tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46573495926889242024-03-14T00:45:59.657-05:00Sweet MagnoliasTwo high school sweethearts. Four precocious children. A little bit of insanity and a whole lot of love. Come on in!JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.comBlogger99125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-58580868313360541632023-08-05T19:19:00.025-05:002023-08-05T20:01:56.102-05:00If Wishes Were Horses...<div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWeej_9g8QDezL4C5tmo7mbgtUWQowZzO4Pbxq6LvEGQFTZtnWaw6GM4pGFZ9RDHa6VclW1oTOSZ8lUBLr6bmdXGF7R96vIO9HXDD03_D0BkMAr9krzhJbB_jTmdbvZ8z90-qNEvKSeR6Gr4MSl7Etu1TkBfeYoLrWtcAvZx6NW-Qme7pmzryKbKczg/s1080/If%20wishes%20were%20horses,%20beggars%20would%20ride..png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWeej_9g8QDezL4C5tmo7mbgtUWQowZzO4Pbxq6LvEGQFTZtnWaw6GM4pGFZ9RDHa6VclW1oTOSZ8lUBLr6bmdXGF7R96vIO9HXDD03_D0BkMAr9krzhJbB_jTmdbvZ8z90-qNEvKSeR6Gr4MSl7Etu1TkBfeYoLrWtcAvZx6NW-Qme7pmzryKbKczg/w400-h400/If%20wishes%20were%20horses,%20beggars%20would%20ride..png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I think a lot of people who knew me from middle school on probably aren't aware of or never thought about the fact that the man they know as my dad is actually my step-dad. He and my mom married when I was 6. I call him my dad, he's in my phone as "Dad", and my kids call him Grandpa. For all intents and purposes, he is my dad.</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The reality is that, obviously, he is not biologically my father. That is a man named David. He and my mother married when they were 16 and 19 and had me when they were 17 and 20. So, babies. David, unfortunately, developed a drug habit. My mother finally had enough and, as a 20 year old, found herself divorced and raising a child on her own. <br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">He was in and out of my life from that point on. Sometimes, he was actively using. Sometimes, he was in jail. Sometimes, he was clean and living under stolen identities. And sometimes, he was clean and doing well as himself. Most often, it was one of the first three things though. My mother never restricted me from seeing him. My beloved great-grandmother who I frequently talk about was his grandmother and he always had a home with her if he so desired. My mother trusted her with me completely and he had ample opportunity to nurture a relationship. I know that is something people assume, that my mother prevented a relationship, but that couldn't be further from the truth.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">He popped in and out of my life from the time I was a toddler until I was 19. Once I had kids, I went low contact. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">In early 2006, right after the birth of my second son, he called me for "help". If you're the child of an addict, you already know that help frequently translates to "money" and this case was no different. He and I had a huge blow up where he blamed everything on everyone else and I was done. I went no contact.</span></div><div><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">There's a lot left out of this and one day I will talk about what it's like to be the child of an addict and how that has impacted my whole life for my whole life, but that's enough to fill a book.</span></div></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">One thing to know is that children of addicts struggle with, "Why was I not enough?" We should have been enough for them to get clean. To stay clean. To stay out of jail. To be a present parent. To maintain a relationship. We are frequently parentified and this is a direct result that.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">On October 14, 2021, he was placed<span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> on life support and not expected to survive. Ironically, it wasn't drug related, although I'm sure his decades of drug abuse didn't help. He passed away the next day.
Some days, I struggle with it. There was no closure. He died several states away. His wife didn't make an effort to contact me. I didn't know how to contact her, not that I truly believe she would have spoken to me.
In my heart, I know that h</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space-collapse: preserve;">is demons couldn't be fought by me. I went limited to no contact with him because I knew I couldn't continue to sacrifice my peace. I had to love him from afar because it was too much to love him up close. Too hard, too disappointing, too one sided. Too hard to watch him deteriorate. Too stressful to have him blame everything on everyone else. My mental health was important. My kids' safety was even more important. And to everyone who will "coulda, woulda, shoulda" from the sidelines just know that the cost was too high.
He was stunningly brilliant. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Exceedingly talented. There was nothing he couldn't teach himself to do. He taught himself to play multiple musical instruments by ear. He could literally hear a song, walk over to the piano and play it. He could take anything apart and put it back together and was a talented electrician. He could have been anything. And yet, the drugs had a chokehold on him.</span></span></p><div style="animation-name: none; background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: left; transition-property: none; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">He was an absentee parent. All I ever wanted was for him to acknowledge that he was responsible for that instead of blaming others. The adult in me knows that I probably would never have gotten that. The little kid buried deep inside me held out hope. The irony is that his mother was also an absent parent. But he perpetuated the cycle.
That same little kid that lives in me always hoped for a reconciliation, but that eluded us. What might have been if we'd had more time? </span></div><div style="animation-name: none; background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: left; transition-property: none; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">
I am truly at peace with my decisions and I don't want this to read like I'm not. Sometimes, it just hits me out of nowhere that half of me is no longer here. And despite everything, I did love him. I gave our situation over to Jesus many years ago because that was the only way to survive it. But I will always wonder what could have been if addiction hadn't been a part of our story.
<br /></span></div><div style="animation-name: none; background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: left; transition-property: none; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">He loved Jesus and I can only pray that he did indeed find salvation. I desperately hope he has finally found peace from the demons that plagued him. I hope that we have another opportunity in heaven for all the things we couldn't be on earth.</span></div><div style="animation-name: none; background-color: white; color: #050505; text-align: left; transition-property: none; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">
Addicts aren't bad people. They make bad decisions. They do bad things. Chasing that high is more important than anything else, even the people who love you most. And most of them want to do better, but the pull is too much. I don't want anyone to think I'm saying he was a bad person who wasn't worthy of love. He was so worthy and was surrounded by people who would have done anything for him.
If you have an addict in your life, just know that you can love them and support them but you can't make them clean. That has to be their decision and they have to work at it every single day. You don't have to struggle with wondering why you aren't enough. You can't be enough in the wrong situation and it's not your responsibility to be.
I wish things had been different for us. And if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.</span></div>JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-85222471047173001932023-01-01T12:55:00.001-06:002023-01-01T12:55:20.510-06:002022 In Review<h1 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Dancing Script;"> 2022 in Review</span></h1><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">2022. It was definitely a year. It was a rollercoaster.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">I couldn't wait to see what was around the next bin.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">I couldn't wait to get off the ride.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">I felt like I was on top of the world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">I felt like I was going to be sick.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">And, occasionally, the whole thing reversed course and I didn't know where I was going.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">And, with that in mind, here's 2-0-2-2 in review!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWyoNqYtVUWyDagG5t_pjw83aqMCuzABL0PG2Y-qjJ0D7J9dMjum7LQbs6cUNhnRQsQXh9XE-UV4o928SarwG7cT9PSp0s8fz_nkUUuqa1AFpAZT3S-F-t7y4G1l0-R97nGdSoPreBGMbDzGcWenzzhZknrofELtY3zK0OMmiEiv3jyBdgxj14twA/s500/2022%20review.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWyoNqYtVUWyDagG5t_pjw83aqMCuzABL0PG2Y-qjJ0D7J9dMjum7LQbs6cUNhnRQsQXh9XE-UV4o928SarwG7cT9PSp0s8fz_nkUUuqa1AFpAZT3S-F-t7y4G1l0-R97nGdSoPreBGMbDzGcWenzzhZknrofELtY3zK0OMmiEiv3jyBdgxj14twA/w400-h400/2022%20review.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><b>January</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">My second son turned 16 at the beginning of the month! It's hard to believe that he's almost an adult, but here we are. I can still remember rocking him to sleep and now, he's big enough to rock me to sleep. But then, a few days later, my beloved grandfather passed away. We knew it was coming. He had been battling cancer for several years and was on hospice care at the time, but it still hurt in so many ways. Due to COVID, my planned trip to see them in late 2020 didn't happen (they didn't even know I was planning one) and so I hadn't seen him in several years. It was a very difficult way to start the year. You can read the post I wrote about him<a href="https://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2022/01/our-hearts-are-broken.html" target="_blank"> here</a>.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><b>February</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">My oldest turned 21 and, man, oh, man did I have big feelings about that. I remember bringing him home from the hospital and looking at this tiny bundle and wondering how they just let me leave the hospital with a whole person. That's the thing about parenting, you won't ever really feel like you're prepared for it and by the time you figure it out, they're already on to the next stage. But then, the lessons you learned don't work for the next kid, so you just keep going in a circle. This month, my husband started selling his 3D prints, which has been a fun little hobby for him. He's made things from these light boxes to an entire Ghostbuster's firehouse. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><b>March</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Gas and grocery prices went through the roof this month, owing to the escalation in the Russo-Ukrainian War and COVID. Even with that, I thought we were going to have a quiet month in this household. And, oh, how wrong I was. My mother experienced what we thought was a minor medical emergency, but she actually nearly died. You can read all about that <a href="https://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2022/04/when-you-realize-youre-fully-part-of.html" target="_blank">here</a>. It was a very stressful and scary time. In that post, I talk about being a part of "The Oreo Generation", so if you need a laugh, check out <a href="http://www.jefffoxworthy.com/videos/the-oreo-generation" target="_blank">this video by Jeff Foxworthy</a>. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><b>April</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Because of my mom's restrictions and my sister's school schedule, I became the designated pick up person for my nephews and sweet 8 pound 7 ounce Baby Jesus, if we could not do that again, it would be great. But then, I traveled to Mobile, AL for a conference for the non-profit I volunteer with and had a great time. If you ever find yourself needing to stay near downtown, I can't recommend the Renaissance Riverview highly enough. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><b>May</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">May was a weird one. April 30 marked 10 years since my sister Danielle was killed by a drunk driver. I got the news in the very early morning hours of May 1, and my brain associates that day with it the most. I went radio silent from everyone who didn't live in this house. 10 years is one of those milestones that hits different, I guess. You can read more about Danielle <a href="https://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2012/05/my-sister-danielle.html" target="_blank">here</a>. For the second time, I took over as President for the non-profit I volunteer with. And two of my friends graduated from college! One hadn't been in school in almost 25 years! </span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><b>June</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">In June, my husband flew to Alaska to help out at another location for a few weeks. This is important later. It was a super busy month because it was dance recital month! We had dress rehearsal, stage rehearsal, and the show. I gave up on growing out my hair and chopped it all off again. C'est la vie! Our friend group hosted a suprise 50th anniversary party for the parents of one of our friends. And we finally watched Stranger Things Season 4 Volume 1 so that it was fresh for...</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><b>July</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Season 4 Volume 2 of Stranger Things released and we were all captivated again. My baby girl celebrated her 11th birthday. And the sister of my mom's best friend passed away suddenly. I adored her. She was the person to give my oldest his first haircut. It was very jarring because we hadn't expected. She'd lost her husband to complications from COVID just months prior, so their kids had to pick up the pieces from both deaths. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><b>August</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">I celebrated my birthday! Our kids went back to dance after the summer break. #2 started his 10th year, #3 and #4 started their 9th years. #2 added a new class this year which has challenged him. He's the only one in the class who isn't on competition team, but he keeps up. And he's been doing lifts, which has been a new experience for him too. #4 moved up to Senior Ballet, which is new and a bit harder but she loves it and I think she's getting the hang of it. At the end of the month, my nephew T experienced a scary medical situation. It essentially resolved but there were some words that were thrown around that would give WedMD a run for its money. And my dad finally retired after working since he was 15.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><b>September</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">I started blogging again! And real posts, not just posterity posts of things I posted on social media. I made a trajectory change in my life (more on that in a later post). Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II passed away and it was like the world just stopped. My sister and her long-time boyfriend got engaged. My baby girl learned some tough lessons about friendship. You can read that post <a href="https://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2022/09/thats-their-cup-of-tea.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><b>October</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">My husband and I made it to 25 years of marriage. That's a mileston a lot of people don't get and we were grateful to have done so. My sister and her fiance decided to elope and had a sweet little wedding at a scenic park near here. It was just their kids (5 combined), me and out parents in attendance. We celebrated Halloween and Aidan's dinosaur costume was a hit with the preschool crowd at the Trunk or Treat we attended.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><b>November</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">#3 turned 14 this month. And after traveling to Alaska three different times to fill in, my husband was asked to take on a position there. It was a promotion and he accepted. So now instead of flying out to the Gulf of Mexico for work, he flies commercially to the Northern Slope of Alaska. I made the wedding cake for a friend who found her soulmate (it was another really sweet wedding). I made the most amazing homemade mac and cheese and cornbread dressing for Thanksgiving. And, I buzzed all my hair off again and dyed it burgundy.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><b>December</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">I kicked off the month with my own ER visit. We just couldn't get enough this year, because a few days later, my brother had to go. And we are not ER people, so the fact that 4 of us went this year is unsettling. My non-profit hosted a party for low-income senior citizens and #2 helped me this year. We postponed Christmas until my husband comes home from work, but we still did a little something that day. I buzzed my hair again and dyed it blue black and I'm infatuated with it! And we ended the year with our annual New Year's Rocking Eve Party in Your PJs Spectacular. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">So, whew, what a ride. It was ups and downs. Highs and lows, Twists and turns. Loving and living and feeling all the emotions. That's what life is all about though, right? It's what makes us human.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">But now 2023 can come in and sit down and keep its hands to itself because, y'all, I need a breather.</span></div>JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-20678779411929352662022-09-09T17:08:00.000-05:002022-09-09T17:08:04.785-05:00Do the Next Thing<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">9 September 2022</span></span></div><h1 style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Do the Next Thing</span></span></h1><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Many moons ago, I went through a rough period of life. It was traumatic at the time, of course. As a teenager without the frame of experience or the seeing eye of your future, things tend to look worse than they are. Some of the things happening in my life were indeed traumatic and uncomfortable even to this day. Some were little more than teen angst. Most floated between those two extremes. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;">I confided in my great-grandmother. I told her how hard everything felt and how I </span><span style="animation-name: none; color: #050505; transition-property: none; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a style="animation-name: none; color: #385898; cursor: pointer; transition-property: none;" tabindex="-1"></a></span><span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;">felt I was struggling. And do you know what her advice was? </span><span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Sometimes, you just do the next thing."</span></span></p><p style="animation-name: none; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I remember thinking that was terrible advice. But, she went on to explain that sometimes, you just keep on keeping on by doing the next thing. You don't have to make it better or worse or find up or down or make a decision. Just do the next thing until you are strong enough to do more. </span></p><p style="animation-name: none; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Years later, when my baby boy had open heart surgery and my fear was paralyzing, I just did the next thing. </span></p><p style="animation-name: none; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When that same grandmother passed away and I knew the loss of my best friend, I just did the next thing.</span></p><p style="animation-name: none; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When my sister died and I had to figure out how to live without a part of my heart, I just did the next thing. </span></p><p style="animation-name: none; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sometimes, the next thing is realizing you need help and calling a grief counselor. Sometimes, the next thing is just getting out of bed.</span></p><p style="animation-name: none; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There have been so many times that I've been overwhelmed and heartbroken and anxious and I've relied heavily on the advice I received as a 15 year old girl from a wisened old woman who endured life experiences I can't fathom.</span></p><p style="animation-name: none; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Just do the next thing.</span></p><p style="animation-name: none; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We have 113 days left in this year. And I'd love to say something like, "Make it great!" Or maybe, "You can do this!" I mean you can. You can do it. You can make it great. I believe in you.<br />But if you are struggling, remember that sometimes, you just need to do the next thing.</span></p><p style="animation-name: none; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And that's okay.</span></p><p style="animation-name: none; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none; white-space: pre-wrap;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiekTzCv-y4xkXgk-6BI6NafLq6HCE3r8PMntWc-v2gQaomOxfUd_QXko7bvgmqpAm5w5EtM7BBMd8bPFSZM9SW5DRKMq4iShFewjOIy4sei3ZHidtvG8Po2Cm-qDYA-x4qWuNHzwSjUPrU5zZYYTw6QlcElgrNyEgIagcZQgVF9VkBJ2nrKsy-4Dw/s526/128078799_10158652630180155_4578990734484275453_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="526" data-original-width="526" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiekTzCv-y4xkXgk-6BI6NafLq6HCE3r8PMntWc-v2gQaomOxfUd_QXko7bvgmqpAm5w5EtM7BBMd8bPFSZM9SW5DRKMq4iShFewjOIy4sei3ZHidtvG8Po2Cm-qDYA-x4qWuNHzwSjUPrU5zZYYTw6QlcElgrNyEgIagcZQgVF9VkBJ2nrKsy-4Dw/s320/128078799_10158652630180155_4578990734484275453_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p></p>JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-25960439165040535002022-09-07T10:43:00.003-05:002022-09-07T10:43:17.615-05:00That's Their Cup of Tea<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Oxygen;"> <span style="font-size: x-small;">7 September 2022</span></span></div><h1 style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Dancing Script;">That's Their Cup of Tea</span></h1><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqHj2uZQ3NEav2-8omt9PTk9SG9rQkHa2S7gd0gn5Au2mTm6Xb-sjuEDAf0w1xIEH4CsJ-wiCEKkZ5bHk6dovqYwMXC0tK59iFlVqnExXTqkayUcJqGsIe6SpKCrHRvx3oz5P3HSPLZVm6kTQJl6-SfQ54b33gLPpRi4wtKju6npnLmqTdbOtLUFo/s2500/R%20(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1656" data-original-width="2500" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqHj2uZQ3NEav2-8omt9PTk9SG9rQkHa2S7gd0gn5Au2mTm6Xb-sjuEDAf0w1xIEH4CsJ-wiCEKkZ5bHk6dovqYwMXC0tK59iFlVqnExXTqkayUcJqGsIe6SpKCrHRvx3oz5P3HSPLZVm6kTQJl6-SfQ54b33gLPpRi4wtKju6npnLmqTdbOtLUFo/s320/R%20(1).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><p><span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: Oxygen; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Other people's opinions of you are none of your business." ~ Robin S. Sharma</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: Oxygen; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">My great-grandmother was my bestie. I'd tell her that she was my best friend and she'd say, "You don't want an old woman for a best friend." But, I did and she was. My very best friend. And she gave the best advice, the kind of advice that can only come from a lifetime of experience. </span></p><p style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Oxygen;"><br />Grandma used to say, "That's their cup of tea." And I always thought she was saying it wrong. She surely meant "It's not their cup of tea", right? No. She meant what she said. But, it was only as an adult that I understood.</span></p><p style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Oxygen;"><br />That's their cup of tea. In other words, that's their business. They might feel some kind of way about you, but that's their burden. Other people's opinion of you is not your business, nor are you under any obligation to correct or cajole or otherwise edit yourself to be acceptable to their sensibilities. That's their cup of tea.</span></p><p style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Oxygen;"><br />My girl child is learning this lesson right now. She's 11 and at that stage of life where she's still collecting stuffed animals, but also dealing with real life issues. Recently, a person she's been friends with for a while decided she doesn't want to be friends anymore. My girl is authentic and kind hearted and loyal and fierce. If she cares about you, she'd take a bullet for you. And she's hurt. Real, grown up hurt. And I am hurt for her.</span></p><p style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Oxygen;">So, if find yourself in this situation, let me tell you this:</span></p><p style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Oxygen;"><br />That's their cup of tea. You do not owe anyone a carefully curated version of yourself or your life. </span></p><p style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Oxygen;">You are never going to be enough for some people. You won't ever be pretty enough or smart enough or wealthy enough. </span></p><p style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Oxygen;"><br />You will always be too much for other <span style="animation-name: none !important; transition-property: none !important;"><a style="animation-name: none !important; color: #385898; cursor: pointer; transition-property: none !important;" tabindex="-1"></a></span>people. You will always be too loud or too fat or too silly.</span></p><p style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Oxygen;"><br />Those people? Those people who can't appreciate who you are? Sweetheart, those are not your people. </span></p><p style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Oxygen;">For your tribe, you will be the perfect combination of qualities. You will be the exact amount of enough.</span></p><p style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Oxygen;">Someone else's opinion of you is not your problem. Don't ever let someone steal your authenticity. That's their cup of tea.</span></p><p><span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p>JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-26294642811510037722022-09-06T08:35:00.001-05:002022-09-06T08:35:08.304-05:00Annnndddd...I Did Not Do Better<p> Welp. Been a hot minute.</p><p>I swear, the last 10 posts said some version of "I'm going to be better about posting." My post history has determined that was a lie. Insert a Maury Povich meme right here. </p><p>Hence the title. I did not do better.</p><p>What I have been better about it giving myself grace. I've been giving myself grace on a lot of things that I never would have before.</p><p>Whether it's living life in my 40s or living life with long Covid, I can't say. But the grace is there.</p><p>But now that my job involves blogging, I would imagine that you'll be seeing more of me.</p><p>That's it. That's the update. I've got more, but I've got plans for that content.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2cB184Au7v2FnCCQrkipXDgexmh0CpYbv0Ump-ZgU2PiVKfpBldrwlxOGaHn25CWMvvTTsealHmp6JsOYAlTkA4E3b-tV1L8t_bwq7QvF5GRoopG0Z4NS--fCBCP8iCAoKeWRfSCEu7KK5NmepMIlkHwU64Ddai-yc9uiz6CbvPEKM2WpJB661gw/s1080/59c7ebe899eb39f542892742c2c76925.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2cB184Au7v2FnCCQrkipXDgexmh0CpYbv0Ump-ZgU2PiVKfpBldrwlxOGaHn25CWMvvTTsealHmp6JsOYAlTkA4E3b-tV1L8t_bwq7QvF5GRoopG0Z4NS--fCBCP8iCAoKeWRfSCEu7KK5NmepMIlkHwU64Ddai-yc9uiz6CbvPEKM2WpJB661gw/s320/59c7ebe899eb39f542892742c2c76925.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Choosing Joy,</p><p>Jen</p>JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-14793898704244585072022-04-01T11:09:00.011-05:002023-01-01T11:48:34.759-06:00When You Realize You're Fully a Part of the Oreo Generation<h1 style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;">When You Realize You're Fully a Part of the Oreo Generation</span></h1><div><div style="text-align: left;">Four days ago, my mother experienced what we thought was a minor medical emergency. She's on week 2 of iron infusions, so when she called me and said, "Jen, I was picking up K (my nephew) and got sick. I'm in the office," I thought for sure that she was nauseated. I live 2 minutes from his school, so I took off to get to her. When I walked in, I immediately realized that something was very wrong. <br />The secretary told me that she'd offered to call the nurse and mom said no. I told her to yes, please, get the nurse. Mom was as white as paper, shaky, weak, and nauseated. I have no medical experience, but something told me that her blood pressure was far too low. It was. They couldn't even take it with her sitting up so they put her on the floor and put her feet up. I had already decided we were heading for the ER, but when the nurse told me it was 80/60, I didn't need any convincing.<br />My dad met us at the hospital, so after she was triaged and put in an exam room, I left to take K home. They admitted her just a few hours later. They got her blood pressure stabilized but her bloodwork showed infection. They did multiple cultures, echocardiogram, ultrasound of her veins, cat scan, and she is being heavily monitored and receiving powerful antibiotics. At that point, we didn't know exactly where or what kind of infection. Preliminary thoughts were UTI or bladder infection and possibly sepsis. It ended up being sepsis. She has problems with her bladder and sometimes ignores the early signs or symptoms as business as usual. This time, she was very wrong.<br />So many things had to come together for this to be caught early. My sister was supposed to do pick up that day, so my mother would have just gone to bed and who knows when she would have realized she needed medical attention. If she hadn't gotten sick at the school, I wouldn't have taken her to the ER. Those are all just God movements, because we aren't even ER people, but the first thing my dad and I both said was, "She needs to go to the ER."<br />The hospital was amazing. It gets a bad rap as a "bandaid station" because it's so small. They very easily could have gotten her blood pressure back up and sent her home, but the doctor was determined to get to the bottom of it. He literally saved her life.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Also, the people at the front office at my nephew's school were great. I wish I knew all of their names.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><div>This week, y'all. It's been long and winding and up and down and stressful and scary and exhausting. </div><div>Let me just tell y'all that raising your parents is hard. I'm about to ground the both of them to the house. They're my hardest kids. </div><div>Let me tell you a little story about my mom. She's going to kill me for putting this on the internet, but she has to catch me first so...</div><div>On Monday when she got so sick, she was really out of it. She said today that she could hear people talking but it's like she couldn't comprehend what they were saying. So, at the ER on Monday night, the doctor said that they were admitting her and she couldn't understand just how sick she was. He's like this is serious and she kept saying she just wanted to go home. So, I guess he warned the nurses that she was adamant about going home and, long story short, Mama is now considered an official flight risk at our local hospital. So, there's that. I'm telling you. Hardest kids are my own parents.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;">My siblings and I are fully in the "Oreo generation". We're raising kids and parents, and the parents are the ones that are testing us! <br /><br /></div></div>JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-83267923428554143362022-01-05T10:44:00.001-06:002023-01-01T10:53:05.631-06:00Our Hearts Are Broken<h1 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Our Hearts are Broken</span></h1><p>This will be a short post, because I need to put words together, but don't really know what to say. </p><p>My grandfather has passed on from this world into his eternal home.</p><p>By my great-grandmother's accounts, he was a precocious child. I always particularly loved the story of him getting into some mischief and Grandma chasing him around the bed, saying, "Don't let me catch you!" and him yelling back, "I'm trying not to, Mama." </p><p>He grew up and saw the world as a member of the US Navy during the Korean War. He was very proud of and humbled by his service. By the time, I came along, he was Rev. Jack R. Weaver. But my favorite title is "Paw Paw".</p><p>Oh, how many people he must have brought to salvation! We can rejoice in that.</p><p>He managed to live several lifetimes in one. I always said he and his brother Bernard were real renaissance men. My second son looks just like a teenage version of him.</p><p>While his miracle was not to be found this side of heaven, we know that he is now free of pain and that will be a comfort to us as we try to find our footing in the time to come. </p><p>Thank you for your prayers. Please continue to cover us in them. Our hearts are broken.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Ah1OFNAZljBYOgR4KFHktD6EHmLNkBvbtyjAdLmiXjsnC0pJy8dQNHPN0So2LOS9JHUmPWvOY-EORs391UYVSwRlJkdq48PdCwnhvyQnBmY14tUE8hEKX1Fl71oiILANcIKfj5_UuQnzPnzB1mYjDcH2L632x7rUMQl17tMORUzZyooKxXvIsY4/s640/271241364_10159547639870155_5220429773126897322_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Ah1OFNAZljBYOgR4KFHktD6EHmLNkBvbtyjAdLmiXjsnC0pJy8dQNHPN0So2LOS9JHUmPWvOY-EORs391UYVSwRlJkdq48PdCwnhvyQnBmY14tUE8hEKX1Fl71oiILANcIKfj5_UuQnzPnzB1mYjDcH2L632x7rUMQl17tMORUzZyooKxXvIsY4/w480-h640/271241364_10159547639870155_5220429773126897322_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-27796502499879450882018-05-09T13:36:00.000-05:002023-01-01T10:53:25.096-06:0010 Things I Have Learned About Grief<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image via http://quotesgram.com/</td></tr>
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Hello, friends. These last 10 days have been something else. Not the good something else either. Monday was the sixth anniversary of the night my sister was killed by a drunk driver (you can read more about that <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2012/05/my-sister-danielle.html">here</a>) and it set up a week of trying to keep it together in front of the world. My husband was out of town with work and tried to check in when he could but I needed more emotional support than that, I suppose, because by Friday night I locked myself in the bathroom and sat in the floor and cried. The emotions surprised me a bit because last year I felt like I made it through the week fairly unscathed. I reminisced and laughed and I felt sad but I felt like there was an acceptance there that signaled that I had turned a corner. 365 days later and I'm the walking embodiment of the phrase "hot mess express". <br />
I've lost people before, of course. My great-grandmother, who anyone will tell you was my best friend in the whole world, died 13 years ago. That was horrible for me, but it was expected. She was 93 years old and her health had drastically declined in the year preceding her death. My sister was the first person I'd been close to that I lost suddenly and that was very young. I had just talked to her a few days before. And the next thing I know, she's gone. And I think that's been the hardest thing. She was just gone. No goodbyes, no I'm sorrys, no I love yous. Just gone.<br />
I feel like I've learned a lot in those six years. I learned a lot about myself, about other people, about society, and about life. This list is not comprehensive, of course, and I'm no mental health professional. Your story might be very different, everyone's is. And grief doesn't necessarily apply to death. This is just what I've observed. If this is your season to grieve, know that you aren't alone.<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">10 Things I've Learned About Grief</span></b></div>
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<b>1. Grief is MESSY.</b> That might be the understatement of the year. There is no messier season of life than a grief season. It's emotionally messy. It's physically messy. And the mess is exhausting. The house is a disaster. You're a disaster. Watching the world continue to turn when you can't even manage to get out of bed is heart-wrenching. And then you feel bad because you feel bad. I hear you. I see you. And you know what? It's okay. Some days, you channel Dory and "just keep swimming". Some days, you just concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. And some days, you just need to remember to breathe. Just know that the mess is real and you're not alone in that.</div>
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<b>2. Grief is NON-LINEAR.</b> There is this thing called the Kubler-Ross Model which lists 5 stages of grief. Many people interpret this to mean that these stages exist in a predictable pattern of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Hear me when I tell you this. IT IS NOT TRUE. Kubler-Ross herself even regretted presenting the stages in a way that suggested they would exist in this pattern. They don't. Not even close. So when you find yourself bouncing from denial to depression to bargaining to anger and you wonder why you can't just grieve appropriately, remember that there is no appropriate way to grieve. You're doing the best you can.</div>
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<b>3. There is NO EXPIRATION DATE.</b> I'm probably about to step on some toes here. At least once in our lives, we've looked at someone going through a difficult season in their life and thought, "She's not past that yet?" I'll admit it. I've done it. Here's the thing though. We grieve as long as we grieve. And that's going to look different for every person and every situation. But don't ever let someone make you feel like your grief is wrong because it doesn't fit into their pre-conceived notions of how long it should take. It's your story, not theirs.</div>
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<b>4. It doesn't get EASIER.</b> Fun fact, my number one pet peeve, is when someone tells someone who is grieving that it gets easier. No. No it doesn't. Your heart will always have this wound there. And, yes, over time, the edges of that wound scar over and you fill your heart with things that make you cope better, but mourning a loss doesn't get easier. You just get better at dealing with it.</div>
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<b>5. You will LOSE FRIENDS.</b> This is a tough one. There are people, especially those who have no real grief story, who will not understand what you're going through. Reference #1. Grief is messy. And that messy grief makes people uncomfortable. Reference #2. You're fine one day and a blubbering pile of human the next and people don't understand. Reference #3. Some people will wonder why you aren't over it yet and you're not fun anymore or can't be present for them. The flip side of that is that you will learn exactly who is in your corner. And those people are beautiful. They love you in your mess and your unpredictability. Hang on to those people. That's your tribe.</div>
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<b>6. You will become an EXPERT LIAR.</b> I can still remember the first time I felt like I couldn't grieve in front of people anymore. I had posted a song on Facebook (scroll down to watch the lyric video). Honestly, there were days that I didn't feel I could put into words what I was feeling and that song said it all. Not long after I posted it, a "friend" posted an update about people milking sympathy. Now, I can't say for sure that it was meant for me but the timing was telling. In fact, mutual acquaintances even messaged me wondering if it was meant for me. I knew then that in order to conduct myself with other people, I'd have to lie about how I was feeling. Should I have been made to feel like that? Absolutely not! Should she have come to me if she had a problem with me instead of Vaguebooking? You bet. And I got really good at lying. Really, really good. I'm not saying you're not going to have to do the same. The world turns and at some point you are going to have to go where people are and, honestly, not everyone cares about you (ouch!) and you're not going to feel up to telling them how you really feel (fact). And you'll smile and say you're fine, which, coincidentally, is the biggest lie in the world. Just know that it's okay to not be okay. Just don't lie to yourself.</div>
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<b>7. You will RESENT PEOPLE.</b> There. I said it. You will resent people. The world will continue to turn and life will go on and it will piss you off. How dare they act like I'm not on the verge of collapse over here? I nearly caused a rift in the friend pool when a friend started complaining about her sister for some petty infraction. I wished my sister was here to complain about and I let that be known. Loudly. With tears. It wasn't pretty. The thing is, not everyone has experienced what you're going through and we see the world through our own lenses. Robert Frost said, "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." And it does. And it's fine if that occasionally makes you want to lose it.</div>
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<b>8. You will have to find a NEW NORMAL.</b> You won't ever be the person you were before your loss. That version of you is gone. You will be a different person, a little banged up, a little worse for wear, but hopefully with a little more compassion for the hurting. Like a phoenix, the old you will burn and a new you will arise from those ashes. (Side note for those who have ever wondered about my phoenix tattoo, now you know the rest of the story.)</div>
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<b>9. ACCEPTANCE is not the end.</b> Much like grief being non-linear, acceptance may not necessarily be the end of your grief. I have accepted that my sister is gone. That doesn't mean I don't grieve for her or for anyone else I've lost. I would argue that the real acceptance is in acknowledging your loss and allowing yourself the grace to realize you will still need to grieve. That's real acceptance.</div>
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<b>10. You won't be stuck FOREVER.</b> If you're in a spot right now where you feel like you may never get out of the hole you're in, stop reading now and ask for help. The best thing I ever did was seek grief counseling. There are amazing low-cost or free options out there. A qualified therapist can help you work through your grief and any issues that arise from your trauma. For me, I started having panic attacks after my sister died and the grief counselor helped me work through that. Regardless of whether or not you feel the need to seek help, just know that you won't be stuck forever. It's okay to ask for help. <br />
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Mother's Day is quickly approaching and I hope that you will remember those who are without their mothers on this day and those mothers who are without their children. Holidays like these and other important dates can wreak havoc on them. Give them some grace this weekend.<br />
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Choosing Joy,<br />
Jen<br />
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P.S. Linking The Hurt and the Healer here. The song is by Mercy Me. Enjoy.<br />
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JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-69079927850843480672018-04-14T17:23:00.000-05:002018-04-15T11:07:29.772-05:00I Did a Thing: A Post on (Hopefully) Aging GracefullyI'm turning 40 in a few months. I know, I know. I'm actually really okay with it, much more okay than I was with turning 30. I feel like I'm at a place in my life where I know myself. I like myself. I'm comfortable in my own skin.<br />
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So maybe what happened yesterday should come as no surprise.</div>
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I've had short hair for the better part of 20 years. Occasionally, I'll get the bug to have long, luscious locks, which results in me spending a year growing out my hair only to discover that A) I don't have luscious locks and B) I don't like hair. Oh well. Back to the salon I go, have a years worth of growth sheared off, sport some short looks for a few years, lather, rinse, repeat. But this isn't really about that.<br />
I started coloring my hair the night before my high school graduation and except for the times I've been pregnant, I have consistently colored since. And mostly, I enjoyed it. I've been every normal color...and a few not found in nature and it was fun. But my end game was to always stop coloring and go gray naturally. Of course, I didn't expect to start going gray at 27. At that time, the magic age was 50. Then it was 45. And now, here I am on the cusp of the big 4-0 and I said, "Maybe the time is now."<br />
And then I second guessed and third guessed it and fourth guessed it because chronic overthinker in the house.<br />
I asked my husband his opinion. And then my 17 year old son. And my mom. And my best friend. And then I over thought it some more. And then I just made an appointment. I figured if I hated it, I'd color it and no one ever needed to know.<br />
Since I'm not afraid of short hair (and honestly, I don't know why anyone is, it's literally just hair), I decided to cut out all the old color and just embrace the gray.<br />
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And from that shot, you're probably like, "Ummm.." because from far away, it doesn't look like I had a whole lot of grey to worry about, but let's take a closer look.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Those aren't highlights and my natural hair has never been that ashen or light before. There are just a whole lot of grays sprinkled around.</span></div>
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The verdict? So far, I love it. It's different and fun and I feel, I don't know, free, maybe? I haven't done any crazy hair colors in a while, so I plan to just keep changing up the cut while I accumulate more gray hair. It's only been about 24 hours, do I plan to update this in three months. And since I know someone will ask, my husband loves it. As soon as I brought it up, he was 100% behind the idea. He's my biggest cheerleader.</div>
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In the end, the decision wasn't really about bucking any beauty standards or challenging the system that says women shouldn't show their age. It was more about putting less of my time, energy, and money into the things that are going to make me look young and more of those resources into the things that will actually make me feel young.</div>
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Going gray at this age is not right for everyone and I don't expect kudos for doing it. The whole reason for writing this post is because I couldn't find any info on graying at 40 and I don't want anyone who is considering this to feel alone. I'm doing what is right for my life right now and if you are reading this and you get anything from this post, please get that point. Do what is right for your life right now. Freely. Unapologetically. But the shoes, eat the cake, say no to the things you don't want to do. You only die once, but you live everyday. Isn't it time to make your own rules?</div>
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Choosing Joy,</div>
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Jen</div>
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JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-22172785446058051662017-01-01T20:34:00.000-06:002017-01-01T20:54:18.220-06:00Word of the Year {2017}<h2 class="T" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"><i>She loves the smell of<br />warm coffees,<br /> bloomed roses<br /> and new beginnings.</i></span></h2>
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~ S.A.</div>
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Wow, it's been over a year since I said I'd be better about blogging. Oops. Life happened, but I guess that's everyone's excuse, am I right? I promise I might try to think about doing better maybe. 😉<br />
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I put a lot of thought into choosing my one word. It's a daunting challenge. This one word acts as your lighthouse for 365 days. The temptation was there to choose a big, beautiful word, something that people would read and think, "My gosh, that woman is a genius. Let us bow at her feet." <br />
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Then something happened. <br />
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I made a post on Facebook about how I've gotten to the point where I really don't enjoy the Christmas season anymore. Overwhelmingly, the advice I got was to "learn to say no." But when I analyzed myself, I realized that it's not "no" I have a problem with. I'm great at saying "no". I could be the great curator of the no museum. No, no, no, no, no.<br />
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I also say "yes" a lot, lest you think I'm some kind of Negative Nancy. I say yes so much that I am frequently overextended.<br />
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But back to no.<br />
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I've always suffered from a bit of mild social anxiety. I'm also a closet introvert. If you know me in real life, you're probably like<br />
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but it's true. For a while after my sister died, I suffered from a more generalized anxiety and panic attacks. For someone who already felt anxiety in social situations, it was really terrifying. I stopped accepting invitations to go places unless my husband went with me. I didn't attend birthday parties, even for my own nieces and nephews, unless I had somewhere to escape. And if I had to drive more than 15 or 20 minutes, forget about it. Not happening. If you wondered why I fell off the face of the earth from 2012-2014, there you go. I liked people, I probably needed to be around those people but I couldn't face the possible humiliation of a breakdown, even though I had a whole one episode in public. That's my deep, dark secret. (I am better now, so if you still love me and want to see me, I will make an effort if you promise not to judge me if I start getting nervous. 😊 ) <br />
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So, all of that was to say this. I am really great at no.<br />
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What I discovered though, was that I'm not so great at "why." And I don't mean in the "let me justify why I just told you no" kind of way. I already do that, even when I don't want to. I'm working on it.<br />
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My One Word for 2017 will be WHY. #oneword365<br />
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Finding my why. Remembering my why. Justifying myself to no one but myself. <br />
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365 days to discover who I am as a person and to grow from it.<br />
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365 days to learn to be as purposeful as possible.<br />
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I'm excited for the journey.<br />
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Jen<br />
<br />JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-43302601274410619642015-06-08T13:42:00.002-05:002017-01-01T20:54:18.225-06:00Comparison Really is the Thief of Joy, Our Journey to Loving the Home We Have<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> "Comparison is the thief of joy." ~ Theodore Roosevelt</span></div>
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For some reason, this is a hard post to write. I have a confession to make. I've been unhappy with my home. Not with the people in my home. Not with my neighbors. Not with the area. Just my actual home. And it's become a problem.<br />
Let me give you a little background on how I got here. My husband and I were high school sweethearts who were married at 19. Several months before my 22nd birthday, I found out I was pregnant with B. I had some complications at 10 weeks and my husband was working over an hour and a half away from home and making the commute daily. I was already discharged from the ER before he could even get to me. At that point, we made the decision to move closer to his job. Kids get sick and hurt and I didn't want to be in that situation again. The opportunity to move opened up the month B was due and we moved over an hour away from our home and families just 5 days before B was born.<br />
We spent the next 4 1/2 years living in a 2 bedroom duplex on the MS Gulf Coast and I loved it. I hadn't lived in a city of any real size since I was 11 years old and even then I lived outside of town. This was a city and it moved! There were options for shopping and dining and entertainment and, ohmygosh, we had pizza delivery for probably the first time in our lives. Country kids in the city for the win! When I found out that I was pregnant with C, we made the decision to buy a home near our duplex and started the search. Then Hurricane Katrina put an end to that plan. Our apartment was uninhabitable. With only 4ish months left until C was due, we made the decision to move back to our home town because that area was not nearly as adversely affected. My husband was working away from home and as long as he could get to the heliport we could live anywhere.<br />
We started the search for a home and closed on our first home 3 days before I was scheduled to be induced with C. It was a 3 bedroom/1 bath ranch house in the country. Because most of our furniture wasn't usable after Katrina, I brought a baby home to a basically empty house. In the next few months, we began to furnish and update our starter home to make it our own. The plan was to stay for three years and move to a bigger house.<br />
Nearly three years into that plan, the company that my husband worked for restructured heavily and because he had no seniority, he was laid off. Honestly, we were up a creek. I was pregnant with A. We had very little savings and a whole lot of bills. Our mortgage company and the bank that held our car loan were great about working with us, but you still have to pay that bill eventually. He found another job three months later but the damage was done. It took us nearly a year to recover financially. We decided to stay in our house two more years and then sell.<br />
In 2010, I found out that I was pregnant with D. We were about to be 6 people in a house with one bathroom and decided that we would start the search for a bigger home but that we could take our time and find something we really loved. My husband was working for a government contractor in the midst of the government shut down worries. To save money, his company had a massive layoff and we were caught up in it.<br />
We'd done better and had some money in savings but not enough to cover a six month period with no work and no prospects. I was having some pregnancy-related issues and we were fighting so hard to keep up. We made the decision to sell our house instead of refinancing since we had no idea when we'd be able to start paying our house note again or worse, losing it in foreclosure. We had no money to handle even the most basic home maintenance so we knew we'd have to wait to put it up for sale when he found work again. <br />
Eventually, he started working again. It was a job he didn't like and it didn't pay as well as his previous job but it fed our family and paid our bills and he sucked it up because he's awesome like that. I called a Realtor friend to come look at the house. "It's not ready," I told her. "We were in the middle of a thousand things when the layoff happened." She wasn't deterred. She asked me to tell her a little bit about the house. A funny thing happens when you've been in a house for six years. You have stories. It seemed like everything in this house had one. C's nursery with it's 24 inch by 24 inch checkerboard walls, the mural I hand painted in the room that became B & C's when A came along, the wallpaper that we almost never got to come off in the master bedroom, the bathroom I painted the night before I had friends coming over and the living room curtains that I hung as they were pulling in the yard, the bushes I planted in the front yard because they were cheap and I wouldn't feel bad if I killed them, the seemingly endless row of liquid nailed apple border I had to remove in the breakfast nook and kitchen, the carpet I ripped up without telling my husband I was going to do it (I don't advise that!), etc., etc., etc. And it wasn't just the house. Three of my four babies came home to a bassinet in that master bedroom and that nursery was their first personal space. I bathed those babies in the tub in that hastily painted bathroom. The carpet I ripped up was ruined by a boxer we rescued who was so near death he couldn't even control his bodily functions and we nursed him back to health. We still laughed about the funky linoleum under the carpet. I started making cakes in that kitchen. Those cheap bushes out front get so big that I have to cut them back every few years (dwarf, yeah, right). I told my Realtor friend I would call her back. I could. not. sell. this. house. Barry would be strong though, right? He'd handle it. Eh...not so much. Turns out he'd been down nostalgia road too. We decided not to sell.<br />
But, we were still left with the 6 people in a 3 bedroom/1 bath problem. We had stuff, you guys. Lots of it. After we put the emotions aside, we started looking at the logistics of staying here. We loved the area. The house could be added on to. We could afford the mortgage comfortably. Those were all important to us. So we started making the house our own again, but this time with a forever home state of mind. Turns out, that is totally different than starter home mentality. We completed some <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2012/04/pinterest-inspired-front-porch-projects.html">Pinterest inspired projects in the front</a>,<a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2011/11/great-flood-of-2011.html"> made an emergency toilet replacement</a>, <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-nursery-reveal.html">finished D's nursery</a>, made a list of <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2013/01/2013-home-goals.html">home goals for 2013</a>, <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2013/03/our-biggest-diy-project-to-date.html">closed in the carport</a> and then had a <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2013/04/a-hopefully-minor-setback-in-playroom.html">setback</a>, I made this <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2013/04/watch-us-grow.html">ruler</a> and this <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2013/04/faux-vintage-letter-tiles-wall-art.html">wall art</a>, we painted the walls green and hated it so we wallpapered in a last ditch effort to keep from ripping out paneling and installing drywall and loved it. I repainted the bathroom the night before a birthday party (what is wrong with me?) and I chronicled most of those things on this blog (highlighted and underlined text will point you to those projects). And then I got overwhelmed with cakes. I wrote about that <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-business-of-cakes.html">here</a>. And then I didn't blog for 2 years. Two. years. I was still completing projects but I wasn't writing about it. And then I got dissatisfied because no matter how hard I work, I never could seem to get things finished in a timely manner. My husband works away from home 21-28 days at a time. I homeschool 4 kids who are in a variety of activities. My days are pretty full. Meanwhile, all these fantastic bloggers I follow are sitting in the gorgeous homes that are more or less done and I'm over here nearly 10 years in and mine is less finished than when I moved in. And I started to really get dissatisfied with my home. Sure, we've made some improvements but by the time I get finished with a project, my style changes. Or the walls need to be repainted because of sticky little fingers. Or the dog gouged the floor. It was like one big hot mess circus and I'm the ringleader. I hem-hawed about planning B & C's birthday party this year until I finally confessed to my husband that I hate our house. <br />
I understand this is a first world problem. We own a home in the greatest country in the world. We have more than enough to eat. We don't worry about how we're going to clothe our children. We don't worry about clean water or deadly illnesses or violent civil wars. We have a pool for crying out loud. Yes, I realize I am whining about nothing important and that makes me feel horrible. Bear with me though.<br />
As a child, we moved a lot. I think in the first 8 years my parents we married we lived in 8 different houses. We only owned homes infrequently and I never had a "me" space. Even my own room couldn't be personalized with more than a NKOTB poster or 50 (that life size one of Donnie though--be still my heart). So now I'm struggling with perfectionism in my own home. I want this to be a place my kids call home. In that, I've lost the idea of home. I'm competing with people who aren't living my life, who get paid to do projects and blog about it, who are given sponsorships and freebies, who aren't homeschooling 4 kids, who have a husband available in the afternoons/evenings/weekends to help with the heavy lifting. Meanwhile, I'm over here like<br />
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Comparison really is the thief of joy. <br />
But I've done stuff! Did you know that D's nursery is now a full-blown little girl's room? Or that I redid C & A's room? Or that the master bedroom got a redo? No? Well, it did. And that playroom is becoming B's room until we finish the addition. We took the window out of the breakfast nook and put in a door. I really do still love this house, but I've lost a sense of accomplishment along the way. I'm putting that to rights today. Just talking about all of the wonderful/crazy/weird/things that have happened in this house with all of you has given me a renewed purpose when it comes to loving the home that we have.<br />
Over the next few weeks, I will be photographing and blogging about some of the projects that happened while I was gone and making an updated list of goals. I hope you'll come along for the ride.<br />
And if you're struggling to love the home you have too maybe this will encourage you to break free of the chains of comparison and perfectionism and really see your home through new eyes!<br />
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Joyfully yours,<br />
Jen JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-57707680251311464462015-04-28T12:40:00.002-05:002015-04-29T00:25:09.356-05:00Stacked Book Baby Shower CakeMy dear friend Robin is having a baby girl! That calls for a celebration. I was asked to make a cake for her as a surprise. She's a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bibliophilia">bibliophile</a> like me so this was the perfect cake for her!<br />
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Each book is chocolate cake with vanilla buttercream that was then covered in marshmallow fondant and decorated to look like a stack of her favorite children's books. The board was covered in fondant and painted to look like the books were sitting on a wooden table. Robin loves owls so I made an owl topper out of fondant.<br />
I can't wait to meet her little sweetheart! Congratulations, Robin and Carl!<br />
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Sweetly Yours,<br />
Jen JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-15236921874667218832015-04-27T14:53:00.003-05:002015-04-27T14:57:34.546-05:00Vow Renewal CakeA long time friend of ours renewed his vows to his lovely wife over the weekend. It was an insane weekend of cakes (at one point I had 12 individual cakes of varying shapes and sizes in my cooler waiting to be decorated) so I didn't get to attend, unfortunately. But I did make a three tier cake for them to celebrate the occasion.<br />
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It was all white cake swirled into peacock colors that was then filled with vanilla buttercream and covered in fondant. All of the decorations were also fondant except for a loop of ribbon on each tier that held a pearl and rhinestone gem. I created the cake topper from purple roses, pearl and rhinestone picks and peacock feathers.<br />
Wishing you a lifetime of blessings and happiness, Jeff and Nikki!<br />
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Sweetly Yours,<br />
Jen JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-8435667907991528932015-04-23T01:55:00.003-05:002015-04-23T01:57:28.275-05:00Multicolor Cake Batter TutorialWOW! I took a break from blogging for a bit and when I came back I had a ton of messages requesting a how to on the peacock cake. It was insanity. <br />
First, let me say that there are two things that I am not. One of those is a professional blogger. The other is a professional chef. To wit, you are probably about to view the least technical and poorly photographed tutorial you have ever viewed. Sounds fun, right? Here we go!<br />
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The first thing you are going to do is whip up a batch of cake batter. I scratch bake but you can also use a boxed mix. I won't judge you for it. ;-) The important thing is that it is white. You can use a yellow cake batter but it will cause your colors to have a yellow tint. If that's not a huge deal to you or if you are using yellow-based colors like orange or green then go for it! If you want a more true color, you'll need to use a white batter.<br />
Divide the batter into bowls. You'll need one bowl for each color. Save just a little bit of white batter in your mixing bowl (maybe a cup or so).<br />
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I was doing another peacock colored cake when I did this tutorial, so you will see those colors being used. I prefer to use AmeriColor gel colors. Can you use regular food coloring? I would assume so. I never have. My only concern would be the amount that you might have to mix in to get vivid colors and whether that would affect your batter. I use gel colors pretty much exclusively. You can order AmeriColor gels online or you can pick them up at Hobby Lobby. Wilton makes a line of gel colors also and you can pick those up pretty readily at Walmart, Party City, Hobby Lobby, and some grocery stores. My only issue with those is that you have to scoop the color out of the container so you need to have some way to measure the amounts for consistency. And it's messy. Ask me about the time I dropped purple gel color down the front of my kitchen cabinets. Not cool, man. AmeriColor has a squirt top and if Wilton went to that I would probably be more inclined to buy those. Also, AmeriColor seems to be a bit brighter and doesn't require quite so much to get a vivid color when coloring buttercream or fondant.<br />
But I digress, per the usual. Cake. Colors. Focus, Jen. I used AmeriColor Royal Blue, Americolor Violet, and Americolor Leaf Green. I used three drops of each color in the corresponding bowl and stirred it very well until the color was even. Yes, I realize it looks a little pastel right now. Just you wait! You should not add anything to that cup or so you have reserved in the mixing bowl.<br />
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You will want to prepare the pan just like you normally would. I use Baker's Joy spray and love it! I have not had one single cake or muffin stick to the pan since I started using it. I don't get anything for saying that, but if they ever wanted to send me something free I wouldn't turn it down! Take enough of the reserved batter to just cover the bottom of your pan. I have made these multicolor cakes many times and every. single. time. that I didn't put the plain white batter on the bottom of the pan the cake stuck. I'm sure it's operator error on my part and I have not attempted it again since I started using Baker's Joy. You only have to throw out so many cakes before you learn the lesson. White cake batter on the bottom of the pan, mkay?<br />
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Here's where it gets interesting! Scoop a bit of the first color into the pan. There is no precision in this step. Glob it out. Let it ripple. Whatever your little pea-pickin' heart wants. You just want a bit of that first color down. Do that same thing with the second color. Do it again with the third color. If you have more colors, add those in one at a time also. Resist the urge to swirl it together. Just add colors.<br />
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When you've gone through all of them once, go through them again.<br />
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Repeat this process until the pan is about 2/3 to 3/4 of the way full (whatever your recipe calls for--some rise more than others). If that didn't quite fill the pan up enough, add whatever white you have left in the mixing bowl.<br />
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Can I be frank with you for a minute? Here's why I say to resist the urge to swirl the colors together. It is VERY easy to overmix the colors and end up with something that resembles, well, vomit. Sorry. I'm just keeping it real here. Don't swirl it.<br />
Bake your cake according to your recipe or package instructions. When you pull it out of the oven, don't freak out. The colors on the top are going to look pretty terrible. <br />
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But watch what happens on the inside! Gorgeous colors, am I right? I've done this with many colors and they always bake up brighter than the batter.<br />
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And there you have it! If you've got questions, send me a comment. Or if you make this cake, I'd love to see the results!<br />
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Sweetly yours,<br />
JenJEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-4727656557076683532015-03-25T22:16:00.000-05:002015-03-25T22:37:32.858-05:00You're Doing a Good Job--My Letter to a Young MotherDear Mama in The Checkout Line,<br />
I saw you well before you got in the checkout line behind me. It was hard not to notice. Your little guy was making his displeasure known and I watched as you walked back and forth and back and forth and back and forth before he finally quieted down enough for you to gather your things and, dare I say, your sanity and walk over to the checkout line of least resistance, the one directly across from where you stopped pacing. <br /><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">B--20 months</td></tr>
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And I saw what you saw too. The people. Oh, the people and their various stages of disapproval. The stares, the flat lined mouths, the whispers, Mama, they weren't lost on me.<br />
Let me tell you something, Mama. I've been there. I've been there more times than I can count. That's why I turned to you and said, "You're doing a great job." Your eye roll said it all, but I felt the defeat in your voice when you said, "It doesn't seem like it." Oh, mama. Girl, I know where you're coming from. "The days are long but the years are short," I told you. "We're all doing the best we can."<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">C--9 Months</td></tr>
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See, Mama, what I didn't tell you was that there have been times, especially in my early parenting years, when I could have used a "You're doing a good job" myself. The time the lady walked up to me and told me that my 6 month old would have horse teeth if I kept letting him suck that pacifier, the time that a man told me he thought baby wearing was cruel, the time that the woman tsked at me for giving my child a bottle instead of breastfeeding, even though she didn't actually ask what was in the bottle, the time that my kid threw up all over everything in a store and not one person, not even an employee stopped to help, the time the lady gave me "the stare" because my child was excited over a display of frogs and kept saying it but it sounded suspiciously like another four letter F word, the time that the guy told me I was what was wrong with the world for letting my kid bring his Gameboy in the pharmacy when I knew it was going to be a long wait and I was sick, the time that a lady told me my newborn was going to have diabetes because he was a big baby, the time that my 2 year old child was having a meltdown in a restaurant and a man loudly exclaimed that his kids didn't act like that and I should beat my toddlers rear end. Don't even get me started about all of the fun and awesome things people have said since I started homeschooling. And mama, the disapproving looks. I've had more of those than I can count. These are all moments that are imbedded in my mind because they are all times when I was made to feel like a failure. Anybody, anybody, could have reached out in that moment and let a young mother know that she was doing the best that she could, but no one did and I was left to navigate those waters alone.<br /><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A--5 Months</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">D--4 Months</td></tr>
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Here's the thing, mama. Sally Sue the Disapproving isn't raising these kids of mine and or that sweet baby of yours.. There are going to be times when you're embarrassed and you feel like a failure. It will happen. And your little guy is, what maybe a year old? Sugar girl, you've got a long time of feeling that way. And then one day you will blink and that baby will be talking about colleges and getting his license and scoping out some pink haired girl in the mall and you'll be like, "What just happened?" Here's what I figured out though, mama. I am doing a good job. Yeah, I'm doing the best I can and it's not perfect. And you may not feel like it right now, but guess what, mama. You're doing the best you can too. And it's a good job.<br /><br />
Peace and Love,<br />
JenJEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-14030668230917745962013-07-17T17:34:00.000-05:002013-07-17T17:34:52.275-05:00Just Call Me Farmer MomIf you aren't already a parent but hope to have little ones one day, then I'm going to give you some life changing advice. Parenting is hard. Okay, so maybe not life changing, but definitely truth. <br />
I've come to realize that parenting is a lot like planting a garden of really slow growing crops. You tend to the crops but the fruits of your labor are years away. In the mean time, you toil and work, celebrating the little growths and being disappointed when the little plants don't grow as they should. As parents, we do the same thing. We work on these little people over the time we have them, but we don't know if we've done the right things for our little "crops" for years. Sure they're growing, but are they thriving? Are we giving them the tools they need? It's hard I tell you, because while there is some immediate feedback, you don't really know for years if you've done it right!<br />
I remember one time my great-grandfather growing an arbor of grapes. He toiled over those things and they never did produce fruit. He was so frustrated. We went to the co-op (do those still exist?) and the library and poured over everything we could find about growing grapes. Finally, he decided that the best thing to do was to cut the grapes back and see what would happen. You know what? When the vines grew back, they actually did produce grapes! It wasn't like he didn't have a hand in it. They still required the right foundation to grow--good soil, the perfect location, a strong arbor, appropriate amounts of water. It was only after he stepped back and let the grapes do their own thing did it happen though.<br />
Being perfectly honest, I'm at that crossroads with our oldest. The "letting go" stage. Baby steps though, people, but letting him go a bit nonetheless. It's hard. I mean REALLY HARD. And it's REALLY SCARY! I've been tending to that little plant, er, um, person for over 12 years now. He's actually closer to adulthood now than he is to infancy. I'm not even sure how it happened. One day, he was climbing on my lap to read stories and the next he's almost as tall as me and starting to grow a mustache (don't mention it though--he's not happy about it). I've got less than 6 years left to make sure I've produced a good human being before I send him off to college. Eeeeekkkkk! Did I mention it was scary? It's scary.<br />
I still want to do everything for him and I find more and more often that I'm reminding myself that one day my boy will be a man *gulp* and he'll have to have the capability to do things on his own. He'll need to be able to take care of himself, think for himself, and make decisions apart from us. I find that, in homeschooling our children, I actually have to be more aware of being a helicopter parent and nip it in the bud. When your child is with you all the time and relies on you for so much, you also have to be the one to provide situations where they can grow on their own and practice what they've learned without you. I don't like it, but thems the breaks, kid.<br />
I will say this though, I'm pretty pleased with the way that crop is growing. And unless drought and pestilence eats it alive during the awfulness of the teenage years, I think my little plant might be okay. <br />
For now, I'll keep providing him with a good foundation, but backing off more and more to let him grow in his own way. And praying along the way that when the fruits of my labor come in, that I've grown him to be the best person he can be!<br />
Choosing Joy,<br />
JenJEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-80696561496964745272013-05-31T19:11:00.000-05:002013-05-31T19:11:24.890-05:00The Business of CakesI'm not entirely certain where to start with this post, so I guess I'll just start at the beginning of this journey. When I started toying around with cake and fondant and what not, I had no clue what I was doing. But I LOVED it. It was so intriguing to learn new things. I had successful attempts. I had crushingly horrible attempts. But I enjoyed it. My husband is a chef and he knows what he's doing. He's "been there, done that" so to speak. Somehow though, he still enjoys the process. Even though his successes are far more frequent than his defeats, he still loves to cook. His satisfaction comes at the end result. I, on the other hand, am a process person. I like the learning and the planning that goes in to the attempt. The end result is just a by product of that. <br />
When I started making cakes for people, 99% of those were friends. They knew that I didn't know what I was doing but they took a chance on me anyway. And those people are AWESOME for that! I got some confidence under me, took on bigger and more complicated cakes. Unless you do this (or something like this) you have no idea how awesome it feels to take a cake somewhere and have everyone literally stop everything to stare at your creation. Your baby. You put your blood, sweat and tears into some of these cakes. Not literally of course, that would be unsanitary, but on any given day, the temperature and humidity outside, the temperature and humidity inside, the precipitation for that day, and more measurements that really only meteorologists and sugar artists give two cents about can affect your canvas. Nevermind the logistics that go into making sure the cake will hold up at the venue. Woosh. It can boggle the mind.<br />
Before I lose you in barometric readings and dew points and such, let me get back to my story. At this point, I started taking on other clients, as in people I didn't know. Here's where the joy started creeping out. It's not that I didn't love the process anymore. It's that then I had to start setting prices and flavor lists and bookkeeping and blobbity, blobbity, blah. The process that I love so much was getting pushed further and further back. It started becoming a job.<br />
And here's the real kicker. Because this is a hobby, I don't charge "cakery" prices. I can't do it. I still don't know what the heck I'm doing half the time. So it's become a job that I'm not getting paid to do. To be perfectly honest, what I charge for a cake barely covers what it costs me to make it. There is very little profit if any (some cakes cost me money) and I make nothing. At this point you're probably thinking, "Charge more. Problem solved." And you're right. That would solve that. But it also undermines what I really want to do.<br />
I have lost sight of the process in all of this. That's no one's fault but my own. I should have learned to say no earlier. The sheer volume of cakes I turn out sometimes means that it's all about the end result and very little about the process. And it's kind of sucked the joy out of it.<br />
I have never set out to have this be a job. At its core, this is a hobby for me. There is so much more I want to learn and attempt. Plus, I have four little people who depend on me as their sole source of emotional support when their Daddy is working out of town. It's unfair to them for me to be tethered to the kitchen from sunrise to bedtime because I couldn't say no to just one more small cake. <br />
I hope this explains why my work load has been decreasing and will continue to be so small for the time being. My favorite cakes are almost always the ones that I make for friends and family and I will continue to do those on a case by case basis. I hope if I tell you "no" that you won't take it personally. Even if this does become a job eventually, I want it to be one that I enjoy doing. For now, I hope my hobby continues to make people happy. And that includes me!<br />
Joyfully,<br />
Jen JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-8617727957758431942013-05-10T15:44:00.001-05:002013-05-10T16:44:40.567-05:00All About Mom...From the mouths of my babes.In honor of Mother's Day, I asked B, C, and A to fill out a little questionnaire all about me. D is still a bit too young to be answering any questions, but she made a fantastic assistant. For you reading enjoyment, answers about me...from the mouths of my kids! To give you a guidepost regarding some of these answers, B is 12, C is 7, and A is 4.<br />
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1. My Mom's name is:<br />
<ul>
<li>B: Jennifer</li>
<li>C: Jen</li>
<li>A: Ma'am</li>
</ul>
2. She is _____years old.<br />
<ul>
<li>B: 34</li>
<li>C: 6</li>
<li>A: Some years happy </li>
</ul>
3. She is _____feet _____inches tall.<br />
<ul>
<li>B: 5 feet 8 inches</li>
<li>C: 6 feet 9 inches</li>
<li>A: Long feet big inches</li>
</ul>
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4. She weighs _____pounds.<br />
<ul>
<li>B: Don't talk about it, son! (Best. answer. ever.)</li>
<li>C: 6</li>
<li>A: This much (holding his hands about 6 inches apart)</li>
</ul>
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5. Her favorite TV Show is:<br />
<ul>
<li>B: NCIS</li>
<li>C: Football</li>
<li>A: NCIS</li>
</ul>
6. Her favorite food is:<br />
<ul>
<li>B: Steak</li>
<li>C: Pasta</li>
<li>A: Salad</li>
</ul>
7. Her favorite thing to drink is:<br />
<ul>
<li>B: Coca-Cola</li>
<li>C: Coffee</li>
<li>A: Milk</li>
</ul>
8. Her favorite thing to do is:<br />
<ul>
<li>B: Be on Pinterest</li>
<li>C: Stuff</li>
<li>A: Eat</li>
</ul>
9. She likes to wear:<br />
<ul>
<li>B: Stuff that isn't PJs</li>
<li>C: Red</li>
<li>A: Red raincoat</li>
</ul>
10. My Mom is really good at:<br />
<ul>
<li>B: Blogging and cooking</li>
<li>C: Working on stuff</li>
<li>A: Driving to Nee Nee's house</li>
</ul>
11. I like it best when my Mom:<br />
<ul>
<li>B: Cooks</li>
<li>C: Buys me a Batman cowl (I think he's dropping a hint here since I've not bought him a Batman cowl yet!)</li>
<li>A: Drives the car</li>
</ul>
12. My favorite thing to do with my Mom is:<br />
<ul>
<li>B: Talk to her</li>
<li>C: Shop for groceries</li>
<li>A: Eat crawfish</li>
</ul>
13. During the day my Mom:<br />
<ul>
<li>B: Cleans</li>
<li>C: Plays ball</li>
<li>A: I can't remember</li>
</ul>
So, so funny! In case you were wondering, my name is Jen. I am 34 years. I am 5'6" tall and we don't talk about the weight! My favorite regular TV show is NCIS but I am a huge football fan (Roll Tide! Geaux Saints!). My favorite food is steak, although spaghetti with meat sauce and a loaded salad with bleu cheese dressing are high on my list. Coffee is my favorite thing to drink. My favorite thing to do is any sort of home improvement project (except installing a new pane of glass--bleck). I like to wear jeans and tees, but my raincoat is red and I was wearing it earlier. Their opinions on what I'm good at, what they like for me to do, and their favorite things to do with me are all their own. I love their answers for their favorite things to do with me because they are uniquely them. I spend time talking to B at night after the smaller kids are all in bed. That's our time and I almost cried when I realized he treasures that time too. That might be my favorite answer of all.<br />
And if you're wondering what I do during the day, well, that's a whole other post altogether.<br />
To all of you mommies out there and to all of you dudes who fulfill the roles of mommy and daddy, my hat is off to you. Happy Mother's Day from our family.<br />
<br />
Joyfully,<br />
Jen (or Jennifer or Ma'am) <br />
<br />
<i>P.S. I found this questionnaire over at <a href="http://www.allfortheboys.com/">All for the Boys.</a> She even made a super handy PDF and you can click <a href="http://www.allfortheboys.com/home/2012/5/6/all-about-my-mom.html">here</a> to get to it! Print some out for your kids and prepare to be amused!</i>JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-34516286700538264402013-04-18T16:45:00.000-05:002013-04-18T17:54:01.565-05:00Faux Vintage Letter Tiles (A Wall Art Project)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I first got the idea for this project from <a href="http://anniethology.blogspot.com/2013/01/scrabble-wall-tiles.html">this post</a> I found via Pinterest. I liked the idea of Scrabble-esque tiles as far as being able to intersect our names, but I realized that what I really wanted was old signage or letterpress letters. I found some fantastic letters online but at $5 a pop, they quickly went out of my price range. As the idea for the <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2013/04/watch-us-grow.html">wall ruler</a> started to come to fruition, I decided I could just make some letters. That way I could get the size and style I wanted and the cost would be significantly less than I had found. Spoiler alert--it only ended up being about $.62 cents a tile!<br />
But...whew! This project had a hard time getting off the ground. Seriously. The first day I had begun to work on it, I stepped into a bed of incredibly ferocious and angry fire ants. I happen to be mildly allergic to those so that pretty much put the kibosh on anything for the rest of the day. Then on the day that should have been installation, A fell and I thought he might have broken his nose. It's scary to see that much blood come out of your child's nose, but he's fine today and has no swelling or bruising, so I think we're okay now. Once I was able to work on this, it was relatively painless and most of the work comes in the planning.<br />
I don't know if this would work with just any combination of names. We happen to have enough repeating letters in the right places. You could also do this with words. The only thing I think you really need to keep in mind are that you don't want to incidentally spell other words when joining them together. For example, I could have put Aidan next to Colin and they could have both used the Ns in my name, but then I would have also been left with "CA", "OI", "LD" and "IA". Clear as mud? If you've played Scrabble, then it might make more sense and hopefully the photos will help as well.<br />
The first thing you're going to need to do is figure out a layout. I found that the easiest way to do that was with graph paper. Once I found a layout that worked, I just counted the tiles I'd need and headed to Hobby Lobby. My original thought was for 4x4 wooden tiles, but once I saw them in person I realized that would be way too big. A 2.5x2.5 would have been perfect but they don't sell those. Then I found these 2.5x3.5 inch rectangles. I hemmed and hawed over them for a while, but realized that they would probably actually be the best thing to get me that old signage look. And at $1.47 for a pack of 4, they were very reasonably priced. I ended up buying two extra packs, just in case I messed up. There are no craft stores in my town, so I didn't want to mess something up and have to make the trip again! <br />
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The next step was to determine exactly how I wanted the letters to look. When I was a little girl, my great-grandpa used to take me to the co-op. I guess nowadays we would call it a feed and seed store. I even got a pet baby chick from there (country girl represent!). Anyway, they used to have all kinds of handmade signs and individual letters. So I wanted to sort of combine those two ideas. The font needed to be really plain so I just grabbed a set of stencils from my craft supplies, but if you wanted something else, you could certainly print out the letters and draw them on like I explained <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2013/04/watch-us-grow.html">here</a>. I just lined the stencil up and drew the letter on.<br />
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Then I colored it in using a permanent marker. I connected the lines to make it look less like a stencil, but whatever floats your boat!<br />
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Then I let the permanent marker set up for a bit and then stained the tiles using the same Minwax Early American that I used on the wall ruler. I brushed it on with foam brush and then wiped up the excess with a paper towel. These were very smooth and thin so I didn't sand them. They also sucked up the stain very quickly so your should probably plan to <strike>wax on, wax off</strike> wipe on, wipe off pretty quickly. One coat would have been just fine but I went back and brushed a second coat on a few just to make them not look so uniform. And here are the tiles after they'd been stained.<br />
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After letting those air out for a night, I put all the tiles in the layout that I'd decided on. I had also picked up some wood strips while I was at Hobby Lobby. They are essentially lattice strips cut into three foot lengths.<br />
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These were used as a sort of "skeleton" to attach the letters to the wall. I placed them on top of each name, trying to figure out the best placement. There was no real scientific method to this. I really just tried to have the least amount of piecing. Once I determined that, I cut all of the strips slightly shorter than the necessary length. This furthers the illusion that the letters are floating on the wall and gives you a little bit of wiggle room in your placement.<br />
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At this point, I also wrote the corresponding name on each strip and drew in where the names would intersect. I measured it both lengthwise and widthwise and found the center. I then went to the wall and found the widthwise center and marked it. Then I measured how far down I wanted it to start and then marked the center there too. Once I had center marked, it was as easy as hammering each strip in with a finish nail on each end, making sure to keep it level as I went. I have paneling under this paintable wall paper so the strips are actually really secure. They're also really lightweight so even if one falls off the wall at some point, it should be okay.<br />
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You may notice that two words are missing here. D fell asleep and since this is right outside her room, I decided to proceed with the next step and add those in after she woke up. Just pretend those words are there! HA!<br />
Then I just started hot gluing the letters on. Yes...I said hot glue. Like this...<br />
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You'll notice that the letters are centered on the strip. At this point, I might have squealed. And possibly petted it. I plead the 5th though.<br />
Putting the letters on took practically no time. In less than 15 minutes it looked like this:<br />
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And then three hours later (that girl napped a long time today!) it looked like this!<br />
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Kids love personalized things. The boys keep walking past this and smiling. They even showed D her name, so now she smiles when she walks past it too! I feel like it needs something using the "R" in "Barry" to balance it out. I'll be thinking of a word and will update if I think of something. ;-)<br />
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Supplies:<br />
<ul>
<li>Wooden tiles </li>
<li>Permanent markers</li>
<li>Stain</li>
<li>Foam brushes</li>
<li>Paper towels</li>
<li>Lattice strips</li>
<li>Finish nails </li>
<li>Hammer</li>
<li>Tape measure</li>
<li>Hot glue gun and sticks</li>
</ul>
I had everything on hand except for the wooden tiles and lattice strips. My total for this project was just about $25, but may run you slightly more depending on your finishing choices and what materials you already have. <br />
As always, if you have any questions or comments, feel free to leave them here or click the Contact Us link on the sidebar!<br />
<br />
Joyfully,<br />
JenJEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-56922153946123042432013-04-15T17:26:00.001-05:002013-04-18T16:43:27.798-05:00Watch Us Grow! A wall ruler to measure the kids...Moving past the sad sack post about the <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2013/04/a-hopefully-minor-setback-in-playroom.html">damage to the playroom</a> (whomp, whomp, whomp), I been working on a cute, easy, useful, and sentimental project for the hallway. I've always envied people who live in their houses forever and have the markings of their children's heights on the door frame. When our oldest was born, I saw a very sweet giraffe growth chart and planned to DIY it one day. Fast forward 12 years and there is still no very sweet giraffe growth chart anywhere in our home. I guess it's a good thing though because, hold on this will blow. your. mind, kids grow up. Yeah, whodathunk it? And in this bleak forest known as adolescence, giraffe growth charts are not cute. Neither is that pre-teen angst but I digress. About, oh, I'd say a year ago, I pinned a growth chart on <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/">Pinterest</a> that looked like a huge school ruler (click <a href="http://dearlillieblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/little-ruler-project-and-our-give.html">here</a> for Dear Lillie's version and <a href="http://517creations.blogspot.com/2011/04/ruler-growth-chart-pottery-barn-knock.html">here</a> for 517 creations' version) and I was in LOVE! It's completely moveable too, so even though we don't ever plan to move, we could take it with us if we ever decided to. That would have been helpful as renters many moons ago when Lil B was born and we were living in a small apartment.<br />
The first thing you'll need is a super cute assistant with chocolate around her mouth. Check!<br />
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Then you'll need<br />
<ul>
<li> 1-1"x8"x8' board (I like pine for reasons I'll go into in just a second) </li>
<li>Sanding block or sand paper</li>
<li>Paper towels</li>
<li>Yardstick</li>
<li>Pencil</li>
<li>Permanent markers (I prefer Sharpie brand in the fine tip)</li>
<li>Stencil or printed numbers</li>
<li>Stain</li>
<li>Sealer</li>
<li>Foam brushes</li>
<li>Drill</li>
<li>Screws (Wall anchors if your not going into studs!) </li>
</ul>
The first thing you need to do, is cut your board to length. If you have baseboards, you will need to accommodate for those. That meant my board would need to hang at least 5 inches off the ground. I went with 6 inches. From there I measured what I thought would look best on the wall and decided that I wanted it 6 inches from the ceiling also, which meant that my board would measure 7 feet but my ruler will measure 7.5 feet. Hopefully that makes more sense as this goes on! I had Barry cut the board to 7 feet in length. Then I gave it a good sanding and wiped it down with wet but well wrung out paper towels.<br />
While I was waiting for that to dry, I went to the computer and printed out 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 and 7 in a font and size that I liked. I went with Imprint MT Shadown (it's a pre-installed font, at least on my PC) in font size 350 and I set it to only print the outline. <br />
Next, I took my yard stick and measure off every foot, making sure to remember that my 1 foot line only needed to be 6 inches from the bottom of the board. I ticked all of those off and then went back and drew them to three inches in length. Then I ticked off every inch, making those lines one inch and extending the lines to 2 inches long at every half foot.<br />
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Here's the reason I prefer to use pine. For one, it's readily available in my area making it cost effective. For another, it's soft which makes it perfect to distress. It also makes it easy to trace something onto it and then paint it, reducing the need for carbon paper (which is absolutely NOT readily available in my area!). All I did was eyeball the placement of each number and, pressing down very hard, trace the outline of each number and was left with a nifty impression!</div>
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At this point, I just went over all of the lines with the permanent marker and traced the outline of each number and filled it in.<br />
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I know some people are scared of stain and I have no idea why. Maybe it's because I grew up in a home with a father who believed painting wood furniture was one of the seven deadly sins so there's really no mystery in it for me? I believe staining a piece is more art than science. Once you understand how stain behaves, it's really easy. I'd rather stain than paint, to be perfectly honest. I wanted this piece to look aged, so I went with Minwax Early American. It's got that sort of old oak patina to it. You can buy small cans of stain for about $5, so if you aren't convinced in the store by the tiny little swatch, bring it home and slap it on a scrap board. That's also a great way to figure out how many coats you need to get the desired color and a way to practice if you've never stained before. I prefer to stain with foam brushes, but some people prefer to rub it on with an old cloth. Hey, whatever floats your boat!<br />
I shook the can up really well (the pigment settles so either shaking or stirring it is vital!), opened it up and then dipped my brush into it. I put it on kind of sloppily, heavier in some parts, lighter in others because I wanted it to look used. When I stained the furniture in D's room, I went very carefully and smoothly because I wanted it very uniform. I stained the edges first and then the front of the board and immediately went back and wiped off the excess with clean, dry paper towels. I let it sit for a few more minutes and then wiped it down with more clean, dry paper towels. I didn't take a photo of this step because I didn't want to get stain on my camera but if you practice, you'll get the hang of it. And if you want it to look old then you really can't screw it up. You have to wipe the excess stain off. It won't dry for the most part and then you're left with a gunky mess. NOT COOL. Follow the manufacturer's instructions if you need to do a second coat. Some recommend a light sanding or buffing and some don't. You're almost at the finish line now, so don't screw it up by not reading the directions! I didn't need a second coat, so I just let it dry and air out overnight.<br />
I almost always use stain with polyurethane built in so that I can skip the sealing step, but they didn't have the Early American with poly in stock, so I bought a spray on top coat. I gave it a couple of coats, following the instructions for dry time between coats. After that was dry, I let it air out in the sun for several hours and then in the playroom overnight until it wasn't smelly.<br />
To install, I measured 6 inches from the floor and predrilled holes for the screws. I had planned to countersink the holes and then fill them in with plugs, but I found some screws with rounded heads that I wouldn't mind seeing (and they sort of lent to the "this has been around forever" look) and attached the ruler to the wall, putting the screws straight into the studs so that it's nice and secure. That's a two person job, so make sure you have some help!<br />
And ta-da! It's done! I didn't even have the drill put away and the kids wanted to be measured, so I guess it's a hit!<br />
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This project costs around $20 to complete! As always, if you have any questions or comments, feel free to leave them here or click the Contact Us link on the sidebar!<br />
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Joyfully,</div>
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Jen</div>
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P.S. If you're not feeling industrious, Dear Lillie and 517 creations sell
these in their shops. You can click the links in the earlier text to
get there. JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-39401986079170670092013-04-14T12:25:00.000-05:002013-04-14T12:28:27.556-05:00A (Hopefully) Minor Setback in the PlayroomWhen last I left you, I was proud of my shiny new playroom. Something happened a couple of days ago that made it a little less shiny.<br />
I was in my bedroom and I heard our furbaby Hank bark. He's a bassett hound mix that we adopted from the shelter and he's finding his "hound dog" voice right now, which means he sometimes barks just to hear himself do it. He was crated at that moment, but didn't act upset. My cell phone rang (and later I realized my home phone had rang also but I left it on the dryer--who does that?) and it was a friend from high school. Her church does a tent revival every year in an open field across the street from our house so I didn't find it odd that she'd be calling. I answered the phone and she said, "Someone hit your house." The words didn't make sense. It's like if I said, "That grass is pink," and you'd go, "HUH?". Yeah...like that. She repeated it and said that she was walking over so I opened the front door and I see her coming across the street and to my left is a car with its front bumper around the corner of my house.<br />
I called 911 for the first time ever in my life and told them what had happened. We live in the country but along a state highway. I'll say this, I no longer worry about the response time for emergency services. Within a minute of hanging up the phone, a sheriff's deputy, ambulance, and VFD first responders had arrived on scene. Within another minute, two more guys from the VFD, another sheriff's deputy and state police were here. Of course, Barry's working out of town, so I did the only logical thing a grown woman could do at that point--I called my mommy and daddy. HA HA! None of us were hurt, and the people in the car were being cared for, although they weren't injured either. I really just wanted my dad to come over and tell me that my house wasn't going to fall in on me.<br />
It was at this point that things kind of went downhill for the driver. I found out that immediately after she hit the house, she attempted to start the car back up and presumably continue driving, but she didn't seem to be coherent enough for that to be a conscious decision. My neighbor, whose yard she had plowed through before our house, took her keys from her and gave them to the state police officer. After listing some really potent medications that she was on, the driver was detained and handcuffed on suspicion of DUI. I sincerely hope that once they got her to the hospital, the found that she wasn't impaired in any way. If you're a regular reader or if you are a real life friend of mine,
you know that my sister Danielle was killed by a drunk driver (you can
read that post <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2012/05/my-sister-danielle.html">here</a>) so someone choosing to drive while impaired has already made its mark on my life. Thank God no one was injured or killed. My neighbor's kids play in their front yard. My kids could have been in the playroom. <br />
<br />
The damage appears to be minor. The driver hit the corner of the house
and if you'll remember from the interior sneak peak I showed <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2013/03/our-biggest-diy-project-to-date.html">here</a>,
we left the brick columns up, so that's actually what she hit, and the
brick columns are surrounded with Hardiboard, which is supposed to
withstand hurricane force wind. Se was not going all that fast by the
time she hit it either, thanks to her taking out the neighbors fiber
optics box first. We'll have to assess the damage more thoroughly when
Barry gets home but all accounts are that we'll just have to replace the
trim boards. <br />
Here are photos of the damage. It really could have been so much worse. Here's the front of the house.<br />
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And from the side...</div>
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Take a step back and it doesn't look too bad.<br />
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Next project--concrete wall around the house? Moat maybe? HA! Sometimes, you've got to laugh to keep from crying!<br />
<br />
Joyfully,<br />
JenJEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-36427208504264959692013-03-22T21:51:00.002-05:002013-03-22T21:52:08.244-05:00Our Biggest DIY Project to Date--The Playroom AdditionThese have been exciting times around our house. The 4 munchkins are finally getting a dedicated playroom space! Our carport has been closed in and converted into what we're calling the "Kid Cave". Think "Man Cave" for the younger set of dudes. And a dudette.<br />
<br />
A few things first--This is not a tutorial because every home would present a new set of challenges and not only could I possibly address all of them, but I probably couldn't even imagine all of them. Also, I'm calling this a DIY because we did actually do it ourselves with the
help of a friend who was formerly in the construction business. If you don't have a knowledgeable friend who is willing to work for caramel pecan pie (I kid you not!) then please hire out what you can't do. Seriously, this is your home we're talking about and the last thing you want is to DIY this up and then have it fall apart.<br />
<br />
Our county requires permits for this kind of project. Apparently, not everyone who works there thinks it qualifies as an activity that requires a permit so they gave us one anyway because they figure they might as well. To obtain a permit, you simply bring a sketch of the plan and an estimate of materials and they give you a permit. It won't be that easy everywhere, so please do yourself a favor and check into what this type of project requires where you live. <br />
<br />
So far, we've been asked several questions over and over so I'll address those. <br />
<i>1. Where will you park?</i><br />
We haven't used the carport for car storage in years. In 2008, we moved the furniture that we'd be using in A's room to the carport to stain it. Since then, one DIY project after the other has gone on out there and eventually it became less of a carport and more of a workroom. Also, I drive a Ford Expedition now and it wouldn't fit anyway. Believe me when I say that a playroom is a much better use of space.<br />
<br />
<i>2. What's that on the outside? Wood or vinyl?</i><br />
It's neither. We went with a product called Hardiplank. It is more costly than vinyl siding in the short term but is worth it in the long run, at least to us. I could extol the wonders of Hardiplank but I think they do a super job of explaining why it's a great option so just click <a href="http://www.jameshardie.com/homeowner/whyJamesHardie.shtml">here</a> and learn more! <br />
<br />
<i>3. Why didn't you put a window in the front?</i><br />
When this project was in the early planning stages we had planned for it to be a bedroom and that's really the only wall where we could put a closet<i>. </i>As it evolved into a playroom, we found that the front wall was still the only place for toy storage. And sure, we could put a window there and just cover it up but we could never decide whether the window should be the same size as the living room window (which is the largest window in the front of the house as well as the window closest to the front of the addition), or larger to be the new "main" window, or the same size as the other windows on the front of the house. But all of that fretting was really for nothing once we realized that the existing header in the carport would mean that any window we put there wouldn't be the same distance from the overhang as the other windows and I knew that would drive me nuts. Moving the header would mean some serious structural engineering and we weren't down for that. In fact, you may notice in the photos that the window next the the ones on the side of the addition is a bit higher than the new windows. We're unsure of how we plan to handle that yet and aren't terribly concerned since the laundry room will be overhauled at some point. We'll make that adjustment (if one is even made) when we get there.<br />
<br />
We still have some finishing to do and we still need to paint the addition as well as the trim, but here it as of right now. The inside is still being worked on so that will be another post. Barry hung the drywall and I'm finishing it. I'll have that post up as soon as we get it painted...if we ever get there. It's not a sprint, it's a marathon (or at least that's what I'm telling myself--don't burst my bubble if I'm wrong!).<br />
<br />
Before:<br />
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After (At the point we're at now):<br />
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A little side by side comparison of the before and after: <br />
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And how about an interior sneak peek?</div>
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My sweet nephew asks me every few days if it's "done already". I guess I better stop typing and start texturing some walls! ;-)</div>
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Joyfully,</div>
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Jen</div>
JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-42574178937630035472013-03-14T10:59:00.000-05:002015-04-23T09:08:46.205-05:00Gabe and Rachel's Wedding Cakes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My cousin Gabe and his girlfriend of 4.5 years made it official last weekend in a fun and relaxed wedding at their home. I knew pretty early on in the planning process that I'd be making a wedding cake. Rachel chose a peacock theme for the wedding. At first, we had some pretty bold ideas for the cake but Rachel's mom thought classic white was the way to go so Rachel and I hatched a plan...classic white wedding cake on the outside but beautiful peacock colors on the inside. My husband refers to it as a "mullet cake", you know business in the front and party in the back. Just replace front with outside and back with inside! HA! So here's the business side of the cake:<br />
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And here's the party side of the cake:<br />
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Fun fun fun! And it elicited oohs and aahs when everyone saw the inside which is always cool! The cake was white vanilla cake and the frosting was vanilla buttercream. I colored the cake batter and swirled it in the pan. If anyone's interested, I'll put up a tutorial on how to do that. (That tutorial can now be found <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2015/04/multicolor-cake-batter-tutorial.html">here</a>.) Thanks for stopping by.Just message me or post it in the comments! The cake was covered and decorated in marshmallow fondant. The topper was not edible (those were real feathers!) nor were the ribbon bands and diamond buckles on the bottom of each tier.<br />
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For the groom's cake, I knew I wanted to do something different. We tossed a few ideas around but I was sold pretty quickly on a cheesecake bar. We used a no bake recipe and put the cheesecakes in 9 oz. cups and served them with cherries and chocolate so that everyone could customize their cheesecake in their own way. These went like hot cakes (cheesecakes?) and were terribly easy to make. We served them from the cupcake tower that I made.<br />
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I was a bridesmaid and the morning of the wedding, I found out that we'd be dancing down the aisle as would Rachel and her mom. I'm sure it was quite a sight to behold and I'm pretty thankful I haven't seen any video of that yet! I'll leave you with the song we danced to though. I'd also like to apologize to Bruno Mars in advance if the dancing was as terrible as I'm fairly certain it was! ;-)<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Zlv1rdcpS9M?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />JEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-5582909776562096442013-01-17T23:09:00.002-06:002013-01-17T23:10:02.053-06:00My Word for 2013<i>Thanks for all the sweet love on the <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-woman-i-would-have-her-copy.html">"The Woman I Would Have Her Copy"</a>
post. I had no idea so many people (men and women) had the same issues
that I had. So many people said that they needed to hear that so I'm
happy that you were touched by it.</i><br />
<br />
This is going to sound like it's going into two completely opposite directions, so bear with me.<br />
<br />
I've been seeing people all over blogland name their word of the year. If you're unfamiliar with the concept, it's a word that is your theme for the year. Something to inspire you or something you want to accomplish...that sort of thing. I thought long and hard but I really couldn't come up with anything. No word or phrase struck me. I couldn't think of anything I wanted to strive to attain. I mean, I have goals, of course, but that's about as far as it went.<br />
<br />
I told you this was going into two directions. Stay the course, people! I'm getting you there! The other day, I asked for a recommendation from my Facebook friends for a local optometrist. Our new insurance gave us several different options and those were totally different than the ones on our previous insurance. Several people recommended this one optometrist in particular. I had used her years ago. I won't say how many but it was in my teen years. I racked my brain for an opinion on her from that time and I couldn't come up with anything. I realized that probably just meant that I hadn't had a bad experience with her. The dentist who started pulling my tooth before I was totally numb? His name I could tell you. I could probably pick him out of a line-up, even though I was in junior high when that happened (I was one of those people who still had baby teeth in junior high--don't judge me!). The point is that because I had a negative experience with him I remember him.<br />
<br />
It's human nature, right? I would imagine that most people probably have that same perception. We remember the negative because it keeps us safe. When you're a child and you touch the stove and it burns you, you remember the next time not to touch the stove because that hurt. Then you notice all of the other hot things around you and realize that they will also burn you. It's got to be a subconscious thing though. I know I didn't purposefully hold back any positive feedback on this particular doctor. Interesting, isn't it, how the mind works?<br />
<br />
Forget my first statement. We're diverging yet a third way. Oops. All of that "why do we remember the negative" introspection made me realize that I'm holding onto a lot of negative. Why? Because it keeps me safe. If you don't completely trust, no one can break it. If you don't completely love, no one can hurt you. I could list more examples, but it would just be to say this. We build walls to protect ourselves from the hurts of others. I realized that I'm holding onto to hurts from 30 years ago, 20 years ago, 15 years ago, 5 years ago, etc. I thought I had let most of that go, but I'm really just entrenching myself in those hurts. I'm not really healed of those things. I put up the walls and put it out of mind, but if you can recall those hurts, then it's taking up some of your heart space. It's emotional clutter. And I don't know about you, but I would prefer for my heart space to be filled with good things and those negative things are taking up some pretty valuable territory.<br />
<br />
Roads are coming together. I told you to just stay the course. My word for 2013 is "Uncluttered". I want to be uncluttered in my heart, my mind, my soul, and my home this year. I know things will still be crazy, but the good kind of crazy. I'm sure I'll post about it since pouring my heart out is ultimately pretty cathartic but also makes me feel like an awkward pre-teen on the first day of school.<br />
<br />
I'll update again at the end of the year and let you know if I was successful in becoming uncluttered!<br />
<br />
Joyfully,<br />
JenJEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4657349592688924.post-90462744744371756492013-01-11T12:21:00.000-06:002013-03-28T12:23:02.790-05:002013 Home GoalsOur homeownership anniversary just passed. We've been homeowner for 7 years now! I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but when we bought our home it was supposed to be our starter home. And at the time is was the perfect size for a mommy and a daddy and two kiddos. It's a three bedroom, 1 bath ranch home that's as old as my husband and I are. We planned to stay three to four years and then upgrade. Wouldn't you know it though? We fell in love with this too small house and it's location. It's got potential, people! So we moved from the starter home mindset to the forever home mindset. For one of us, it lit a fire under us to get it done and for the other person, it meant we could take our time. I'll let you figure out who's who. The big layoff in 2012 put that to a screeching halt though and being able to save our home became the priority. It also made us realize just how much we really did want to be here. So, with seven years of living here under our belts, we've made a list of projects we'd like to accomplish. Some we'll finish this year, others we won't and that's okay! We don't plan to go into debt so some big things, like the kitchen reno, will take more time. This is just an interior list. Exterior is a whole other post.<br />
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Living Room/Hallway <br />
<ul>
<li>Cover/disguise/hide window looking into carport.<strike> </strike></li>
<li><strike>Paint ceiling in living room and hallway.</strike></li>
<li>Hang wallpaper in living room<strike> and hallway.</strike> (I'll be posting a tutorial on paintable wallpaper in the future!)</li>
<li>Beef up moldings in living room <strike>and hallway</strike> and caulk and paint them.</li>
<li>Repaint board and batten wainscoting on living room walls. (This actually turned into taking down the board and batten and redoing it.)</li>
<li><strike>Replace or restyle light fixtures</strike>--DONE! We took the two hallway lights and the ceiling fan down and repainted them in oil rubbed bronze. The whole project cost about $10!</li>
<li>Paint cabinets next to mantel? Paint mantel? I'm playing this one by ear until the room comes together.</li>
<li>Replace hinges on front door. Possibly replace front door eventually. It's a standard 6 panel steel door right now and it's okay. We'll reevaluate that once some other projects are completed.</li>
<li>Window treatments.</li>
<li>Reupholster ottoman.</li>
<li>Area rug. </li>
<li>Wall decor, throw pillows and other accessories.</li>
</ul>
Dining Area<br />
<ul>
<li>Repaint ceiling.</li>
<li>Convert window to patio door.</li>
<li>Repair wall from conversion.</li>
<li>Hang wallpaper and paint.</li>
<li>Beef up moldings and caulk and paint them. </li>
<li>Replace flooring.</li>
<li>Sand and stain dining table.</li>
<li>Build and upholster dining benches.</li>
<li>Buy two new dining chairs. </li>
</ul>
Kitchen<br />
<ul>
<li>Renovate. I'm not even sure what we'll salvage. I say scrap it and start from scratch though. ;-)</li>
</ul>
Carport<br />
<ul>
<li>We have plans to close the carport in this year for a playroom for the kids. We're calling it the "Young Man Cave." Will post more as the time draws near! (We offered the room to Lil B and he said he'd rather continue to share a bedroom with his brothers in exchange for a really awesome playroom, so we aren't forcing him to continue to share.)</li>
</ul>
Craft/Laundry Room<br />
<ul>
<li>We must figure out a better washer and dryer placement. It's terrible right now and there is so much wasted space. If nothing else, we will have to move the dryer vent because it blows out onto the carport now.</li>
<li>Organize craft supplies.</li>
</ul>
Nursery<br />
<ul>
<li>Toy storage. Other than that, I'm calling this room "done" until she moves in to a big girl bed.</li>
</ul>
Boys Room<br />
<ul>
<li>Reconfigure sleeping space. Not crazy about bunk beds, so this will require some real planning.</li>
<li>Paint ceiling, walls, and trim.</li>
<li>Bedding.</li>
<li>Window Treatments.</li>
<li>Steam clean carpets. </li>
<li>Replace closet and entry doors as well as door hardware.</li>
</ul>
Master Bedroom<br />
<ul>
<li>Paint ceiling, walls, and trim</li>
<li>Replace closet and entry doors as well as door hardware.</li>
<li>Bedding.</li>
<li>Window Treatments.</li>
<li>Flooring. (You can read about why it needs new flooring <a href="http://jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.com/2011/11/great-flood-of-2011.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</li>
</ul>
Bathroom<br />
<ul>
<li>This room also needs a full reno. Paneling in a bathroom--need I say more? We also desperately need a vent fan in this room. </li>
</ul>
<br />
I will update as projects are completed and I'm sure I will think of things to add as time goes on too! Any home goals for you in 2013? <br />
<br />
JenJEN@jenssweetmagnolias.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12610354289461633124noreply@blogger.com0