Bugged

I'm up late, and that's not good because I'm in this weird sleep cycle where I wake up between 3:00-4:00 every morning, and I can't fall back asleep. I finally surrender and get out of bed in the 5:00 hour out of sheer boredom. I should use that time to go the the gym, but I don't put my gym clothes out the night before because I think, "I woke up at 3:00 this morning, so I really need to catch up on some sleep tonight," and I totally anticipate "sleeping in" until 6:30.

(Rifling through the drawers quietly for gym clothes at 5:00 a.m. is no different than turning the lights on and yelling the lyrics to "Who Let the Dogs Out." If I do either, the entire household wakes right up. Except Scotty).

So, sleep and exercise deprived, here I am,and I have two things going on right now:

Thing 1: I'm tired to the point that I have no energy left to go to bed, so I am just sitting here with my laptop idling the minutes away (fortunately I completed a very stressful assignment for school tonight, so I'm feeling all sorts of accomplished even though I'm no longer being productive)

Thing 2: I'm bugged by something that someone else did today. I shouldn't be bugged, but I am. I don't like that another person's actions and words have such power over me.

If I've learned anything in my almost-ten years of blogging, it is that I should never blog late at night (or any other time of day, for that matter) if I'm feeling "bugged." 

So this is me breaking a rule by blogging, but this is also me not saying what I want to say regarding The Bugging.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go not put my gym clothes out.

My Relationship with Paint

When Scotty and I were first married (and new home owners trying to save a few pennies) I became obsessed with paint. It started when I got the itch to paint my kitchen table. This was in 2004 when no one painted tables. Seriously. I went to various stores asking the "paint experts" about whether it was possible to paint a table without completely sanding it down. No one really knew. They just gave me a best guess which was to try priming it, painting it, then coating it with polyurethane.

I gave it a shot, and my table went from this:

 

To this:

 

It's not very cool in today's world of DIY and Pinterest, but at the time, it was pretty bold. People always commented on my table when they came over, and I even had people who had heard about my table ask if they could come see it. 

Sadly, the paint didn't hold up well, so after a few years I ended up painting the entire thing black. Then one day I saw a little bump in the paint, and I started picking at it. Pretty soon, I'd done this:

Around the same time I painted my table, I painted this table for my niece:

 

I began a hobby of painting things. I loved finding things at the thrift store to re-do.

  

A breadbox I eventually got rid of because it smelled weird.

 

These shelves are still one of my favorite thrift store finds.

 

This is an awful photo, but this table-sort-of-thing was very well-loved in our home for many years, despite the chunk of it that was missing. I re-painted in a few times. The strange curtain-y thing wasn't there long.

 

 I painted this rocking chair for my nephew for Christmas.

I did this dresser for my niece. 

Along with painting furniture, I also painted walls. Scotty would come home to find that I had changed the color of a room. I often used discounted (mistinted) paint. That resulted in a lot of improvising, but when you live in an out-dated house, and you can paint your entire kitchen for $5 on a whim (true story!) why not take a few risks?

(I've had a lot of tacky paint colors in my house).

Some time after I became a mother of two, I stopped painting for fun. I realized it was too difficult with little kids around, and honestly, I stopped enjoying it.

Now that we're doing some updates to our house, there have been new opportunities to paint. My old paint obsession resurfaced for a while, and I started painting several things around my house (the pictures will come someday... maybe). One great thing about taking a break from painting is that it allowed some time for updates in products. The paint available now is far superior to what I used eight years ago.

Revisiting an old hobby has made me realize some truths about my relationship with paint.

Truth #1: I'm not patient with painting.

I want to get it over with as quickly as possible. Part of this is out of fear that I'll never finish. I need to get it done now or it'll end up sitting for months.

Truth #2: I am a lazy painter,

If I can get away with a short-cut, I will take the short-cut. Anything I can skip - cleaning, taping, second-coat, etc - I will. Even if I'm not sure I can get away with it, I will still try.

Truth #3: I am a messy painter.

I drip on my shoes. I spill on the carpet. I lean my back against a freshly painted wall.

So while I have been painting random things around my house over the past two months, I've ruined a few clothing items, namely my only two pairs of decent jeans.

Now, you may be wondering, if I know that I am a messy painter, why did I wear decent jeans to paint in in the first place?

Because I'm impatient and lazy, of course! (See Truths #1&2). But not only that, I can only paint while things are calm at home, and since I never know when things will be calm, I never know when I'll be painting. It's usually a thirty-minute window when Zoe is in a Dora coma and Eva is taking her cat nap. I don't take the time to change clothes because that creeps in on my painting time. I always truly believe that I will stay clean this time, but also, I've painted enough jeans to know how to get latex paint out of them in a bind, so I always have that to fall back on just in case (but then I never get the paint out because, again, lazy).

Yesterday I got this sudden idea to re-do Nicky's dresser. This idea struck me about 30 minutes before Zoe had to be to preschool. I thought, Hey, I'll just get the first coat started now, then take Zoe to preschool, and see if I can finish it while she's gone. So I got the entire first coat finished then dropped Zoe off at preschool. Then I came home and started on the second coat before it was time to go pick up kids (it's another half-hour window. Tragic, really). When it was time to leave, I went to put the lid on the paint, and something seemed a bit off, but I brushed it aside and left for Nicky's school. Then I went straight from Nicky's school to Zoe's school. When I got out of the van to go get Zoe, I put my phone in my back pocket, and that's when I realized why the paint lid looked a little strange...

I'd sat on it. 

I wasn't surprised. This is typical of me. Of course I sat on the paint lid. It's what I do. 

But... I'd just bought those pants THE DAY BEFORE.

I'd like to think that I've learned my lesson. Next time I paint, I'll probably change my clothes. But the time after that, I'll probably think, Oh, it's just a quick coat of paint. I won't hurt anything!

Fortunately (and much to my surprise), I was able to get the paint out, even after it had been there for two hours! I've gotten small amounts of paint out of jeans several times, but never anything quite like this. I feel like the champion of the world! 

Pine Sol and a toothbrush. Impatient, lazy, messy painters be aware.

The Battles I Don't Fight

A lot of people say that parenting is all about choosing your battles. I can attest that this is true. There are a lot of battles to choose between. Which ones do you dive into, and which ones do you retreat from? Sometimes it's hard to know when to stand your ground and when to let your kids have some power. Plus, what's right for one family might not be right for another. Our children have various needs and temperaments, so where one family might need to fight a battle, another family might be able to let go of that battle.

One battle I've chosen not to fight is the Clothing Battle.

Earlier this winter, I was struggling with Nicky over clothes. He hates jeans, so, much to my dismay, I allowed him to switch over to a ward robe that consists entirely of athletic pants and gym shorts. I also lifted my ban on wearing shorts in winter. The rule was in 45 degrees and above, he could wear shorts, but then, after so much fighting about shorts, I sat Nicky down and said, "I'm lifting the ban on shorts. You can wear shorts to school whenever you want, but I am trusting you to make good judgement." We talked about some of the cues that would indicate that shorts might be too cold. The next day, he woke up and put on pants all by himself. He just needed to feel like it was his decision, so I think I made a good call on that one.

The Clothing Battle also extends to my daughters, who are very strong-willed. Even the wee one, who is 11 months old (yes, already!) is very stubborn and opinionated. There are certain aspects of their ward robe that I need to intervene with occasionally (no fire-fighter hats at church) but for the most part, I have stepped back and let them dress themselves. I don't let it bother me if their clothes don't match, and I don't let it bother me that 99% of the time they look absolutely ridiculous.

Daisy in her church dress with denim leggings and Elsa socks. This girl will forever wear atrocious socks to church.

Zoe in a nightgown, a tutu, a Minnie Mouse beanie, rain boots, and a Batman cape on the way to the library (she has to wear a cape because she is "Super Zozo!")
 

I know a lot of people who have chosen to fight this battle, and that's fine if it works in their families, but in mine, my kids really thrive on this form of independence, so it's a battle I no longer fight. Part of this comes from remembering how I felt as a child when I didn't have control over what I wore. It was important to me to be able to choose my own clothes every day, and I know that my kids feel the same way.

What battles have you chosen not to fight?

School Parallels

This week, I'm detoxing.

I've been overtaken by junk food lately, so junk food is the first thing I've been trying to give up. The next is facebook. Oh, how I hate to admit that facebook has gotten the best of me, but I've gotten into a habit of checking it a little too often in the past several weeks, so it's time for a break.

The withdrawal hurts. I'm hungry and lonely. That's what stings the most - the fact that, without facebook, I feel lonely. How pathetic.
 
Interestingly, this week in school I'm studying addiction. Even though my addictions aren't quite as dangerous as other addictions out there, I'm very aware that I am a slave to certain things. Every time I study addiction (the topic spans several classes in my major), and I read stories of people who have suffered from severe alcoholism or pornography addiction, I realize that I have a similar problem, just not with alcohol or pornography. I have the habitual tendency to turn to something (like food or facebook) when I feel stressed out and I want to escape. It gives me a temporary high, and then I feel ashamed. The shame causes me to beat myself up, then I feel stressed, and I start all over again.

I don't like the feeling of being controlled by something, and as I study what happens in the brain as addiction is formed, it's a little frightening. Addiction truly takes away freedom, so I am trying to be more aware of the ways I habitually try to escape reality.

This is one thing that is really great about my schooling process. I feel like every class I have taken so far has been relevant to what is going on in my life at the time. Even week by week. For example, last week I was worried about a relationship with a friend. When I started my reading for school, it was all about relationships and how to be a good friend. On Saturday, I confided in someone that I have had a lot of negative emotions lately, particularly anger. I had no idea that when I started my reading on Monday (two days later), I would be studying anger.

Anger and addiction all in one week. It's like my classes were designed for me.

The other phenomenon I experience with school is that I take two classes at a time, and even when the subjects are quite different, they tend to overlap. Right now I am taking Family Theory and Communcation Essentials, and there have been several times during the semester where the material from one class has related to the other, and it kind of blows my mind.

I am also shocked at how much I love family theory. I have learned bits and pieces of family theory in other classes (particularly Family Systems Theory and Stress Theory) and I've always muddled through and never cared for the topic, but now that I'm studying it more thoroughly, I'm eating it up. 

I really feel like God is involved in this process. For reasons I don't fully know just yet, He led me to this, and He is guiding me through it semester by semester.

Next semester I'll be taking Human Growth & Development and Adolescent Development. I am excited (and a little scared) to see what role these courses will take in my personal life, especially since Scotty and I will be channeling our inner pioneers as we play "Ma and Pa" to 15 teenagers on Trek this summer.

(Anyone can parent 15 teenagers for three days while they pull handcarts dressed like this in hundred degree weather with no shade, right?)

Because I'm Not Done Talking About Selfie Sticks

The other day I shared my first experience with a selfie stick.

Last night, Scotty revealed a grave error I had made in that post. It turns out, this photo, dubbed as my First Ever selfie stick photo, was not actually taken by me.



In fact, it's not even a photo of a selfie stick.

Scotty is a purchaser (a "senior buyer" to be exact... whatever that means). When he needs to buy new parts, he often takes pictures of them on his phone. What I thought was my first selfie stick photo was actually a part that Scotty needed to buy for work. It just happened to be the last picture he took before coming home from work on the day that I ripped the phone out of his hand to practice using my selfie stick. The photos ended up back-to-back, making me think that I'd taken the photo with my selfie stick.

We had a good laugh over this, and I received the reassurance that I've actually been a gifted selfie sticker from the beginning.

Well, except for in the wind...

The Threat

I feel like I've spent most of my life trying to overcome the same, old things without much success.

There are character traits that I want to change. I want to be less jealous, less easily annoyed, and less judgmental. I want to be a better listener, and I want to have the gift of making people feel they are valued.

There are habits I want to change. I want to stop eating my emotions. I want to stop getting sidetracked on the internet and stop being consumed by my phone. I want to cease being idle. I want to keep up on laundry and housekeeping.

There are parenting skills I want to acquire. I want to have better relationships with my children. I want to see them as God sees them and love them unconditionally. I want to stop yelling and stop using psychological control to manipulate their behavior. I want to effectively teach them, and I want to trust them.

There is knowledge I want to gain. I want to truly know, understand, and apply the scriptures in my life. I want to be familiar with the teachings of the prophets, both modern-day and of old. I want to internalize everything I learn on every subject, both secular and spiritual.

I feel like I'm incapable of change because I see very little progress. Day to day, I struggle with the same things. I resort to the same sins, the same failures, and the same bad habits.

I've often asked Heavenly Father through prayer how I can become capable of change, and the answer always comes to me through Boyd K. Packer's quote, "The study of the doctrines of the gospel will improve behavior quicker than a study of behavior will improve behavior."

I get it. I do. For me, the answer will always be...

STUDY YOUR SCRIPTURES!

And I do.

But the problem is, I always go in bouts or I study for a lesson or a school assignment. I don't study for myself as often as I should.

Lately I've been really hard on myself, and the funny thing is, if a friend of mine felt about herself the way I feel about myself, I would tell her to stop. I would tell her that she's not giving herself enough credit. I would tell her about all of the things I see her do that are amazing. I would say, "Please don't talk about my friend that way." I would do anything I could think of to help her see her worth because I don't want my friend to think that she isn't good enough.

Why is it that I won't let a friend be hard on herself, but I have no problem running myself into the ground?

It's Satan, of course. Every time he whispers in my ear, I fall for it. I know it's Satan, and I still let it happen. I let him convince me that I'll never be enough. That people don't like me. That I'm doing everything wrong. I let him walk all over me.

The fact that he's working so hard on me must mean that I'm a threat. If I were to feel good about myself, there's no telling what I might accomplish and who I might drag a long for the ride. I need remember this as I meddle through life.

I'm a threat.

Van Necessities

Exciting news for the Brittish household... we got a new van!

Honestly, I feel a little guilty about it. Did we need a new van? Heavens, no. Except maybe we did. I don't really know. Our old van had a few problems that we didn't really want to deal with. The fobs never worked, for one thing, and what joy is there in having a Mormon mobile if you can't push a button that unlocks the doors? Also, it made a noise that made me nervous (and a little embarrassed). I kept thinking I would end up dead because of that noise... whatever it was.

We started looking at new (used) vans last August (I blame an assignment for my money management class that required me to find and compare two vehicles with loans and interest rates). After doing the assignment, I was totally set on getting a new van, and I'd even found "the one." Scotty went to look at it the next day, and it had sold. We watched for something similar to come up, but everything was too expensive and the wrong color (I would have bought the wrong color at the right price, but I never found one).

After a month or so, we stopped looking so diligently and accepted that we would spend some more time with our original van, the Gold Nugget. Then last week, I got an itch again, and lo and behold, we found "the one," and it was a better color than "the one" we found in August, so it was obviously meant to be.

I look at our new van and pray that we'll be diligent in keeping it tidy. As much as I claim, "No food in the van" it always gets sneaked in there somehow. Yesterday I looked back at Zoe and she had a bag of goldfish. How is it that my kids are starving all day and whine about how there's no food in the house, but the second we're in the van, they produce a buffet from their jacket pockets?

Anyway, having a new van gives us a bit of a fresh slate. Since the van is nice and clean(ish) (there are already traces of dirt and mud from a little adventure we had on Sunday), I've been slowly putting necessities inside. Here are some of the things I consider "van necessities:"

• A stash of diapers and wipes
• Emergency supplies (roadside kit, small first aid kit, etc)
• Picnic blanket
• Book of Mad Libs
• Scissors and tape (Someone out there has to know how crucial these are. Anyone? Anyone?) 
• Napkins (My mom always stashed napkins in the glove box, so I adopted this from her. We only made it a few minutes from the car lot before we needed a napkin, and there wasn't one!) 
• Tire gauge
• Garage door opener
• Mailbox key
• Small bottle of lotion 
• Pens
• Book of Mormon

My list is a little longer in the heart of winter when I haul around an ice scraper, ice melt, a small shovel, a traction strip, and a few extra blankets (I'm not sure if I should put my winter stuff in the van or not. We seem to have a freak snow storm every April, so perhaps I should be prepared).

So what do you think? Do we have similar lists? Is there something unusual you insist on having in your vehicle at all times?

{Photo from our first van adventure 3/6/16}