Goals 2016: Travel

Our 3 year old refused the Captain Wings. He’d been on a plane before. It was no big thing to him. Both he & his sister sat satisfactorily, munching on the strategically packed snacks that would both keep them occupied & help relive the pressure in their ears from take-off. They traveled beautifully, aside from the brief meltdown over a dropped toy or a dead battery. (Also, thank God for iPad’s).

I was a lucky enough to get my Captain’s Wings when I was little. And I got them over & over & over again. My family traveled. A LOT. Belgium. Mexico. England. Paris. Victoria. New York. Alaska. Minnesota. San Francisco. Austin. Maui. I knew I was lucky; my grades held up despite my missing school & my parents viewed my absences for travel as the school of Cultural Reality (we also had an awesomely supportive School District). I think they were right on so many levels. So far I’ve had a new passport for every decade of life.

But what we didn’t do enough of was exploration. We chose to travel far instead of getting to know our own home. We live in Washington State—climate & topography are possibly more variable here than any other state. We even have a rainforest. But for all the miles I’ve banked on the plane or train or car, I haven’t banked nearly enough at the campsite or the National Park or the Bed & Breakfast.

Our kids, right now, don’t know the difference. The elephant at the zoo is just as exciting as an elephant on an African safari. The new friend made at the park two blocks away is equally awesome as the nontraditional nature schooled kid in Maine. Captain Wings are no different than a sticker from the dentist office.

Their cultural inquiries are at an all-time high & the concern about their differences are at a life-time low.

I want them to learn. I want them to know that we are privileged, not because God reached down & blessed their little lives with a fairy wand, but because we happen to work hard & live with a certain zip code at a specific latitude. I want them to realize that the fact that they can recognize letters & sign a few words is more than half the population in this world. And I want them to know, we want them to know, that they are fiercely loved by a God who has bigger, dirtier, bolder plans for them than airbrushed family photos & Pinterest-worthy homes with picket-fences.

And more than telling them about the privilege of their latitude & warm bath at night, we want to show them. We want to show them the National Parks to incite an excitement for soil microbes & sunsets. We want them to see the Wonders of the World so they’ll know, without a doubt, that the Nightly News cannot tell stories big enough to deny this wonder-full world. We want them to feel the tears of the mom who cannot feed her baby (& guide them in supporting her), the splinters in the broken floor boards of the orphanage, & the pulse of a beating heart that  holds so much different & yet so much of the same. We want them to travel because the World exists, an oyster whose beauty is waiting to be seen.

Even if they don’t want the Captain’s Wings.

·      As much as our budget allows, show our kids the World. Because it exists to be seen. And cultures exists to learn from. And to be raised in a bubble of the Nightly News about Brangelina & Kanye, with streak free windows & proverbial heated tile floors is to miss out on the humanity that Jesus came to save.

·      Travel near. Travel far. To the firestation, the salmon hatchery; to San Francisco & San Paulo. This won’t happen in 2016. But foster the curiosity, the culture, the ceaseless learning that their curious minds are waiting for.

·      Learn. Be open to culture, to new. Be respectful of culture, of old.

·      Respect our internal rhythm, our personal preferences; if we find that our kids love their own beds or our zero-based budget doesn’t allow for travel, swallow it & take a trip through books instead.

·      Realize that travel doesn’t always mean away—in all its forms there are so many facets we fail to explore: travel through time with history, through creation with trips to the Pet Store or the River shore, through exploration at the Children’s Museum or Farmers Market. Realize that for as much as travel is a physical act, it should also be one that sparks an intellectual one: learning.

Goals 2016: Education

In tenth grade, a new girl showed up. Growing up in a smaller community, to see a new person either meant they had just moved to town or they were one of those people.

Turns out, she was one of them.

She’d spent the first 16 years of her life learning at home. Her skin glowed. She conversed easily. She was beautiful. And she was in AP Geometry & AP Biology & probably AP Teenagehood. She was homeschooled.

We only had one class together. And I’m sorry to admit that I didn’t get to know her. She was the first normal homeschooled peer that I’d met. She didn’t have frizzy or permed hair. She wasn’t socially awkward. She didn’t wear clothes from 1993 or long skirts. She was, well…normal.

Our kids aren’t grade school aged yet. I’m holding my breath for two more years. From what I’ve heard, school systems & their own red tape have changed a bit from the days of Fourth Grade Knighting Ceremonies & recess time that lasted almost two hours. I’m not sure if kids still knit at recess (oh…you didn’t do that?). Or play with POGS. Or exchange trading cards. I’m not sure if they learn about volcanoes & watch Gilligan’s Island during the Earth unit & build dioramas of volcanic islands & explode soda bottles with Alka-Seltzer and Mountain Dew.

I want my kids to be able to do those things. I want them to be able to be kids.

Someone much more motherly, much wiser, with so many more kids than me told me once that homeschooling is a calling. I’ve never EVER considered it my calling. But now, at the crux of preschool enrollment, at the bend of what seems to be the road to childhood, we need to make a choice for our family.

The reality is that we have time. Thankfully, we have time. The decision for enrollment is a solid year away. We still have a full year of preschool left, for heaven’s sake.

At this time, I’m both fearful and hopeful of what that year might hold.

Right now, we are the people who just moved to town. We now just need to decide if we want to belong to the other group, too.

·      Be prayerful about what lessons we teach our children.

·      Consider the harder road—the one that will yield the most & the best & the most culturally aware children who love the Lord.  Realize that the harder road looks different for everyone.

·      Make learning a priority, but commit to following their curiosity. Use goals as a suggestion instead of a structure.

·      Be structured. Be spontaneous.

Goals 2016: Education

In tenth grade, a new girl showed up. Growing up in a smaller community, to see a new person either meant they had just moved to town or they were one of those people.

Turns out, she was one of them.

She’d spent the first 16 years of her life learning at home. Her skin glowed. She conversed easily. She was beautiful. And she was in AP Geometry & AP Biology & probably AP Teenagehood. She was homeschooled.

We only had one class together. And I’m sorry to admit that I didn’t get to know her. She was the first normal homeschooled peer that I’d met. She didn’t have frizzy or permed hair. She wasn’t socially awkward. She didn’t wear clothes from 1993 or long skirts. She was, well…normal.

Our kids aren’t grade school aged yet. I’m holding my breath for two more years. From what I’ve heard, school systems & their own red tape have changed a bit from the days of Fourth Grade Knighting Ceremonies & recess time that lasted almost two hours. I’m not sure if kids still knit at recess (oh…you didn’t do that?). Or play with POGS. Or exchange trading cards. I’m not sure if they learn about volcanoes & watch Gilligan’s Island during the Earth unit & build dioramas of volcanic islands & explode soda bottles with Alka-Seltzer and Mountain Dew.

I want my kids to be able to do those things. I want them to be able to be kids.

Someone much more motherly, much wiser, with so many more kids than me told me once that homeschooling is a calling. I’ve never EVER considered it my calling. But now, at the crux of preschool enrollment, at the bend of what seems to be the road to childhood, we need to make a choice for our family.

The reality is that we have time. Thankfully, we have time. The decision for enrollment is a solid year away. We still have a full year of preschool left, for heaven’s sake.

At this time, I’m both fearful and hopeful of what that year might hold.

Right now, we are the people who just moved to town. We now just need to decide if we want to belong to the other group, too.

·      Be prayerful about what lessons we teach our children.

·      Consider the harder road—the one that will yield the most & the best & the most culturally aware children who love the Lord.  Realize that the harder road looks different for everyone.

·      Make learning a priority, but commit to following their curiosity. Use goals as a suggestion instead of a structure.

·      Be structured.

Be spontaneous.

home sweet home. living room.

Design is defined by light and shade, 

and appropriate lighting is enormously important.

Albert Hadley, The Story of America's Preeminent Interior Designer

our theme was "comfortable". the house has a lofty, light feel to it--high ceilings, old archways, original moulding. we didn't want to cram in furniture--but wanted to make efficient use of our space. thankfully, the furniture we already had worked fabulously. 

first the wallpaper had to come down. OH MY GOSH was that a nightmare.

we even discovered a window behind the wallpaper. YES A WINDOW. they'd just screwed up plywood & glued over the top of it. my dad spent a weekend here & was kind enough to mud the entire wall for us. 

come to find out, this little home was one of the first in the neighborhood. and that window gave the tenants a fabulous view of the neighbors living room when building picked up. 

we chose a light gray for the living room--and the contrast between cool colors & warm wood was just what we wanted. i still change our couch pillow covers & shelf arrangements about every 4 months--so we decided to let the color rotate throughout the year in the form of new photos & accessories.

so we went from this:

to this:

and finally to this:

{ehem...i might have gone dumpster diving after a local college got out...OH MY GOSH i'm doing it every year. totally another post for a different time.}

we went from this:

to this:

and finally to this:

***

the entry way was another entity entirely. we wanted it to be a distinct space--but blend in well. as a matter of fact, in taking down the wallpaper, we discovered that the entry way used to be the front porch! the front door used to go straight into the dining room. 

 we chose a slightly darker grey for the walls...& it has since just evolved into a functional, perhaps even fashionable space that actually gets used.

you can see a little peek of it in this photo:

and another (ack!) peek in this one:

we 

we already had these shelves...

this was the fall set-up:

and with a little picture hanging, here it is now:

home sweet home. part III.

we'd found it: THE ONE. {well, the one for now, at least}. we were SO EXCITED. and i spent the rest of my unemployed-don't-have-a-car summer browsing blogs & reading about projects. i made a ridiculously long list of "to do's" that i'm too embarrassed to share with anyone. lets just say that it was longer than 6 pages.

and like all first-timers, we had lofty plans. lofty & large--which turned to humble & small after we found out how much home improvements cost. 

it was a long wait to move in. paperwork, signatures, more paperwork, meetings...and then finally one day when our Realtor & official-signing-lady kindly came to the hospital with jon so i could sign the paperwork....

we were home owners. 

the army delivered our stuff a couple of weeks later. 

and then the projects began....after all, this is what we were dealing with: 

{photos w/ little grandma's stuff in them....}

home sweet home. part deux.

so after three agonizing days of searching through houses & coming up empty, i was beginning to lose steam. jon arrived on Wednesday & we didn't waste any time getting geared up for our house hunting safari, part deux.

poor jon didn't know what we'd been through--bullet holes, cat poop, completely dysfunctional layouts. we tried to warn him, but honestly. its kind of like warning myself i might gain a pound for every donut i eat. just doesn't work.

our realtor started off the morning with good news: he had a friend, an old acquaintence, who was planning on putting her house on the market. it was our second stop of the morning. i was excited.

after what seemed like a billion disgusting, poorly planned, poorly cleaned, poorly thought-out houses, we pulled up to a quaint (albeit overgrown) yellow house on a quiet, tree-lined street right near an elementary school.

i almost peed my pants.

and when a cute little grandma waved to us from her car (she was leaving so we could tour her home), i almost melted.

and then we walked in.

jon gagged.

i started crying. literally.

like a big goon in the middle of the dining room, i looked around, did the potty dance & starting crying.

mostly because i LOVED IT. and i finally believed those crazies who told me that i'd just know.

because i did.

things happened fast after that. i was in love with the house. it took jon a few more (okay, a lot more) houses to figure out that the cute yellow one--aptly named the "grandma house" wasn't so bad after all.

that night we made an offer.
that night that cute little grandma accepted.

it didn't take us long to celebrate.


it was well within our budget.
the location was perfect.
the house made sense.
it had character and history and needed a lot of work.
the coolest part? God's hand was totally in the middle of it. come to find out, christian couples have lived in this house since it was built. we'd discover later once we started demolition that God was literally built into the walls of the house.

He's still here.

home sweet home. part I.

so we bought a house. like, months ago. and i've been promising pictures...but one thing has lead to another & i've been sleeping & working & working &; sleeping. and well, it is JUNE, if you didn't know. and you still haven't seen pictures of this little big project we've (ehem...jon's) been busy with.

first, the story:
jon was gone, playing in the giant sandbox across the sea. i was busy applying to residency. and when a little birdie told us that this city would probably most likely chances were good be our home for the next three years, my mind went-a-racin'. let's just face it, world, I LIKE DECORATING. i like crafting and picture taking and creating and re-creating and well, decorating. we'd been talking about a house--a home, really--for year-or-so prior. and not knowing if it was a good decision, economically financially & emotionally, we were hesitant to invest in a long-term home.

fast forward a few months & jon came home. the chatter about a place to live in the then-confirmed location of residency increased. we prayed. we listened to Dave. we reviewed our bank accounts & budget. jlyn freaked out. jon reassured the freaked-out-jlyn. and then, in a fury of boldness, we cashed in our air miles & bought plane tickets for a house hunting adventure.

and adventure it was.

we connected with a good friend, who happened to be a fabulous realtor. he was amazing. like, totally amazing. he found us a loan officer. and suddenly, like the world plopped off its axis, we were approved for a home loan. we spent late nights talking about the logistics, the budget, the reality of it all. we'd been intentional about saving when jon was deployed...& were hoping to find something to invest in.

and then we started looking.

actually *I* started looking. jon had to work, so i went to do some prelim work & narrow down the giant pool of structures to one that was more manageable.

and OH. MY. GOSH. there were some crapshoots. and other excrement, actually, from cats & dogs & bullet holes in the windows. our budget was teeny-tiny--& we were committed to not exceeding it. and the house we thought we'd get for our money wasn't looking like much house at all....

we looked at houses. a LOT of houses.

a WHOLE lot of houses.

some were super. except they had no parking.

or the entire inside was purple. like the entire inside people--trim & all.

bullet holes?
cat poo?
a house the size of a closet?
we pretty much saw it all.

secret upstairs, finished with bedrooms, accessed only via ladder in the master bedroom.

we named each of them--mostly so when jon saw them could keep better track of them.
the bachelor house.
the view house.
the bug house.
the bullet hole house.
the cat poo house.
the kitchen house.
the list went on.

people told me finding the right house was a bit like finding a spouse--you'll just know.

well i DIDN'T just know. i hated each of the houses we saw. and quite frankly, i finished the first three days of house-hunting with a soured attitude & a hopeless outlook that we might have to rent after-all.

moving.

I’ve found the only non-plastic-wrapped couch cushion & am sitting in a sea of boxes.

THE PACKERS CAME YESTERDAY…and the movers come to finish the job today.

The sky is threatening rain—which is totally ironic but no surprise as all, as we danced in the thunderstorms (more like monsoon’s actually) last year when we packed up the PODS after waving goodbye to Jon for a year.

A whole year. Was it really that long? It felt long. And short. And medium. All at the same time.

And today? This summer feels the same way. I want to know who stole July—because surely it can’t be the end of the month yet. I’m not ready; not ready to move or start over (again) or umm…care for people. I don’t feel ready, like, at all.

I didn’t feel ready for the single-man-packing-show to arrive on our doorstep yesterday & stay for 10 hours, boxing up our memories of this state, this place, this life into cardboard containers labeled “this end up” & “handle with care”. Yes, PLEASE!, handle with care I wanted to scream…THIS IS OUR LIFE!

But we are both making every effort to remember that we’ve got a new life waiting for us. It is scary & exciting & horrifying & thrilling & long-time-coming & stressful & well, new.

So here’s to newness. And moving. And “handle with care”. Here’s to bike rides & river rafting & actually skiing in the winter; to crisp autumn mornings & cool summer nights. Here’s to long hours working & short days together & date nights & mountain hikes & hopeful trips to the lake. Here’s to close-by family & oh-so-amazing-friends & new church’s & Jesus meeting us there. Here’s to scraping paint & stripping wallpaper & Jlyn learning how to paint once-and-for-all; to gardening & harvesting & canning & preserving in the “Grandma House’s” garden. Here’s to unpacking memories & to ripping the tape off fresh ones like a bandaid.

And most of all, here’s to growing up.

spring pillows.

well, here they are :) new bright green pillows to welcome in the spring season! it was a bit of a stretch for me & i surprised myself when i walked out of the store with green fabric...but i LOVE THEM :) {lighting is really bad...sorry!}

we invested in high quality pillow "fillers" at Pottery Barn right after we were married. now, each season (or month, depending on how ambitious i feel!) i either buy new covers on clearance or make them to fit the "fillers". we don't change anything else in the house (except around christmas time) so it is actually a wonderfully inexpensive way to decorate!

this fabric was, again, on sale & totalled about $30 :) i finished all of them in under 4 hours!

when it all comes together.

i got a lovely early christmas gift from my husband...& the best part was that i asked for it months ago. which not only meant that he listened to me but that he remembered it!!!

a few months ago i was struggling with the concept of scrapbooking. the frivilous paper & embellishments all seemed so wasteful--not to mention the time that it eats up. but after lamenting about all the money i'd wasted on supplies, i opened a box of old photos & couldn't remember the names of half the people in the pictures muchless where we were & why we had pink boa's on with facepaint at mid-teenagehood. which is when i had a moment of slight epiphany that i could document these memories in a way that didn't require a huge time commitment or a generous trust fund from some unknown relative to back my paper purchases.

since i'm too cheap to buy photoshop, i downloaded free software from the internet that allows me to change the size of my photos & replace the original 4x6 print with a mosaic of resized photos. i then plan out my pages (the most time consuming part) so that by the time i'm 30 i won't have 57 volumes of "Our Family Album". costco uploads my pictures & delivers them to my door within 3 days. i pick one weekend each month to forego studying & spend all day Saturday (after morning cleaning) working on piecing together the already-planned pages.

i've actually found that i'm having fun again :) and the best part is that i've given myself no size, photo, or layout restrictions; i only promise myself to stay focused on the photos + words & not make pages about how my pant size keeps climbing or how my dryer eats all my black socks. it is JUST THE IMPORTANT STUFF.

in the past two months of my alloted time for these projects, i've managed to make enough layouts fill up this entire scrapbook...maybe i should have told jon i wanted 2 :)

the most satisfactory part of this whole process is that jon supports it totally. once i had the new book filled up, he sat down for a good 20 minutes & looked at pages that span across our last year together...i think i even got a few smiles from him ;)

{i've created a new album in my Flickr account titled "scrapbook pages" for those of you who want to see more...}