I am sitting here drinking a glass of wine (or two, maybe, who’s counting?) and thinking.  Thinking about how weary I am, how sad I feel, how much I want to shed these feelings of doubt and begin again tomorrow.  Because, you see, I was exceptionally hard on myself today.  The “Chicago Winter” of Texas is here to stay, it seems.  And believe me, it’s JUST as bad as negative temps.  TRUST me.  What little I have left my house this week (thanks to a lovely summer cold) has been spent racing the girls to and from the post office/grocery store/what.have.you without melting.  It’s too hot to swim, too crowded at the mall (cause EVERYONE is thinking what I’m thinking) and just too MUCH.  You do know that it’s been in the triple digits for like 40 days or something, right?  Isn’t that just CRAZY? So what happens when you’re stuck inside with your two small children who can’t seem to stop torturing each other? Two words: Cabin.  Fever. When Elmo is the only thing that keeps the peace you know you have a problem. Ultimately, I took them to the gym, handed them off to childcare, and pounded the treadmill with all the stress and anxiety I was holding onto.  And in my mind, I was thinking I am worthy. I am valued. I am a good mother. I am a cherished friend. I do have talent. I am loved. When someone is whispering lies to you all day – lies that make you believe that you are none of the above – well, it’s very easy for you (for me) to forget these things.  When I raise my voice too many times and scold my children more than usual. When I pass by the mirror and am worried about the next 5 pounds when I should be celebrating the 5 I’ve lost. When I overthink and ruminate and drive myself crazy. When I worry and fret that I might never get THERE – that place of self-acceptance and confidence. When I second guess and don’t offer myself the same kindness I hope I give to others. And so, I am happy to put this day to bed.  Happy to give my sin up to the one who will ultimately meet me where I’m at and say “…Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you.” – Hebrews 13:5. I am here. You are loved.

Well, we are in it…the Texas equivalent to the Chicago winter…oppressive and never-ending.  Y’all, it is so hot.  I mean, fry an egg on the sidewalk kinda hot.  I took the girls to the custard shop yesterday just for a break in the madness at home and you should have seen Baby Ella’s face.  She was beet red and sweating like a house on fire.  Woo, and WAS.SHE.CRANKY.  She’s definitely my daughter: needs her sleep and hates being hot.  And I mean HATES.  So I know I’ve said this before, but I’m terrified of the pool this year because Charlie really can’t swim yet and Ella is all over the place – and really, what’s fun about trying to keep the both of them from drowning??  I know I chose to move back here, and I have no regrets, but I’m starting to figure out that I am really a colder weather gal.  I would much rather have a cabin in Colorado and wake up to the fresh mountain air than a house on the beach in Malibu.  Honestly.  I love being cozy.  I love wearing a chunky sweater that’s just long enough it covers my hands.  I love a hot cup of coffee and a briskness in the air.  I will say that aside from these few months in the summer, the weather has been lovely here.  I was able to walk with the double BOB from October to May.  There were those few weeks in the winter that the roads were icy and scary and the schools closed, but most of the year, you can throw a blanket over your kids and head out the door.  Anyway, the girls had camp last week and I was very spoiled.  It was the perfect balance of productivity and unadulterated me time.  Ah, I cashed in my Mother’s Day massage and took myself to the movies.  It’s a glamorous life, isn’t it?  Don’t envy me too much – this week I’m back in the throes of pre-terrible two’s tantrums and 30 questions a minute courtesy of you know who and you know who.  So today I am in my jammies still (yes, it’s 2 pm) and I’m very busy scouring eBay and procrastinating going to the gym.  I figure these are the lazy days of summer, yes?  Emphasis on the LAZY.  I just keep telling myself the fires of Hades will break soon and one day I will again join the land of the living.  Until then, I will dream of Fall and ignore my children, as usual.

It was weigh-in day today, y’all.  And to celebrate, I ate a huge breakfast.  Whoops. Anyway, guess what?? I’m down 5.6 pounds.  Oh, yeah – I’m counting those ounces. Hallelujer!!!!! I figured things were going well when I tried a dress on in Anthropologie on Monday and it actually looked pretty great.  Yes, there was some potential there. That almost never happens.  The leaving the dressing room happy thing??  C’mon.  You know I’m right. 5-10 pounds on a petite gal really makes a difference!  I mean, it makes a difference regardless of how much you have to lose – it’s the space between sizes.  I’m pleased that I don’t feel deprived – I’ve actually had my fair share of sushi meals and even (GASP) wine – and have still managed to stay “on plan” for a month now.  4 weeks!!  So I’m not done, no way.  Still have work to do.  But I’m getting there. And that feels pretty freakin’ great.

I’ve been keeping a little secret. No, I’m not pregnant. Good Lord, no.  (Pause.) I joined Weight Watchers. There.  I said it.  I just got sick of complaining about that stupid 5-10 pounds and decided to DO something about it.  I have a couple friends who have done it with great success…so I put on my big girl panties and went to a meeting. I know.  I was so nervous, my palms were sweating. Just to get this out of the way – I know that in the grand scheme of weight loss I don’t have THAT much to lose. But I am a crazy person.  And I was making myself miserable (miserable, I tell you!) with the amount of negative self-talk churning around in my brain. The first step was to log what I ate – which I did, on my new iPhone (I know, we are so behind), for a week.  Every piece of food that went in my mouth.  Turns out this is a really great thing – it cuts out all those Oreo binges I’ve been having in the pantry.  Oh, my pantry and I had  become quite involved. The second step was to make the hardest decision of all – cease and desist all vino drinking during the week. (Silence.) Yeah, I know.  Here’s my problem with wine: I love it.  Too much.  I can’t stop at just one glass.  And, it’s not so easy on the waistline.  Sad face. The third step was to pay my $40, set up my eTools and attend the dreaded said WW meeting.  And you know what?  I was nervous but it was actually really informative and no one threw tomatoes at me.  It’s been 3 weeks, and I’m happy to report that all of my strategies are working.  I think.  We will see next Wednesday when I, gulp, weigh in again.  Ah yes.  It’s enough to drive a girl a LITTLE bit crazy.  And I might have had a LITTLE bit of wine last night.  Whatever.  Back on track today and cutting myself some slack. (She says, rifling through the pantry for the last Oreo.)

I heart Brooke Fraser.  Her second album, “Albertine” was on permanent replay in my car until it went missing.  Vann says that maybe it’s in another CD case – cause, you know, I have a bad habit of mixing up cases.  Ooops. This is one of her “latest” songs.  I think I’ve listened to it about 50 times today.  Catchy, huh??

Y’all.  I am really struggling through something.  I want to shop.  Badly. Nordstrom’s Anniversary Sale starts today.  Boo hoo.  First of all, I recognize that buying sweaters for winter in the dead of a Texas summer is a ridiculous notion.  I do.  I know that whatever I do buy will end up nicely folded up in my closet until oh…OCTOBER.  Maybe even NOVEMBER.  Hmph. Second of all, there really is no money to spend.  We are still knee-deep in moving/buyingahouseandfurnishingit debt.  And it really sucks.  And we didn’t even buy all that much!  We needed a fridge, washer/dryer, couch, and second car.  We splurged on a grown-up bedroom suite.  Could we have done with something a little less fancy?  Yes.  But it’s so pretty! I digress. Vann and I have been so blessed to have no credit card debt up till this point – at least not more than we could feasibly pay off in a month.  So trips to Nordy’s in the fall were never an issue.  When I think back to our life as dual income, no kiddo folks – oh, all the things we were able to DO!!  Gah!!  And even after we had kids, we only had 1500 square feet to furnish, and we knew that someday we’d be able to pick out new things so we just made do with what we had. But we wanted a home, and we wanted to be closer to family, and God opened those doors, and I am SO thankful, don’t get me wrong. And we don’t want for anything.  I know this.  I’m even able to fit in my monthly Whole Foods grocery store splurge. But I’m bummed out.  I’m sick of it.  It feels really overwhelming.  And while I can look around at our home and see where the money has gone, I’m annoyed at our lack of financial freedom these days. I’m doing what I can.  I’m consigning in Divine Consign again this fall.  I’m going to start my fall eBay selling at the end of this month.  And that will probably generate a little bit of shopping money.  But these are the times that I really wish I had some way of generating REAL income.  It would be amazing to be making more of a dent on what we owe. I had an amazing conversation with my friend Rebecca yesterday.  We talked about how our hubbies get to go out and have their work measured and recognized – they get raises and promotions and are able to be out there, you know? Maybe there are mommies who don’t need that sense of recognition.  I’m sure some will say that it’s enough to know you are raising your kiddos to be kind, caring, and accomplished people. Rebecca said, “Yes, on the best day it is more than enough.”  I loved that because it’s so true.  On the very very best day, when your kids are listening to you and loving on you and giving you kisses and falling asleep in your arms – yes, I say, a resounding yes – being a mom IS more than enough.  But we all know how many difficult moments there are throughout our days, and in those moments I CRAVE the thrill of the call sheet, the brand new script at the first read-thru, the first tech rehearsal and those opening night jitters. Because I do want to be recognized for my creativity.  I do want to be recognized for the gifts that God gave me. So this blog.  I am eternally grateful for the people who have lifted me up and loved me along this journey.  I’ve always been a “writer” in my own mind – I have boxes upon boxes of journals from my 20’s.  (Bet THAT would be an interesting exercise, huh?  I should go dig those out and have “Back in the Day” Mondays – or something like that.) I would love to think that God is preparing me for something even greater – that all of this sort of “organic” growth as a writer truly means something.  Because y’all, I really think I could LOVE this.  Like, crazy love.  Could I really be a writer??  And maybe get paid to do it??  And so that brings me back to my original thought.  I want to shop.  Badly.  Boo hoo. Better get to selling.