The thing is.

Do you ever have something to say and you’re just not sure how to say it? Sometimes explaining yourself is the hardest thing of all. I need a starting point.

The thing is:

Will a semi colon help? One wonders. . .

THE THING IS:

I know I worried a number of you when I said I was re-prioritizing and making changes. I got many concerned comments and e-mails, many of which were perceptive enough to know exactly what to be worrying about. Thank you. It means so much that you care.

I don’t want to worry anyone, so here I go. For give the blather likely to ensue shortly. I’m tired and my words just aren’t coming very easily.

The thing is, I no longer want to scrapbook on anyone else’s terms. I’m not finding joy in this. I’m finding stress and an honest desire to not make anything. I am tired of deadlines and worrying about being good enough. And I’m ready to take a break, sit back, and think about something else. Because of this, I quit almost all of my Design Teams. I still work for The Scrapbook Nook, but have renegotiated my contract to be one that does not require me to fulfill any design obligations.

This is the best thing for me right now.

It doesn’t mean I’ll never scrapbook again. I’m sure I will. I just want to make things because I feel like it, not because I am obligated.

(I realize half of my readership just scrolled up to their bookmarks list and deleted me, ha! Sorry about that.)

I need to simplify as much as possible right now, and this is part of it.

You see, the thing is, I really struggle with giving myself credit for what I do. I do a lot. And I have a hard time acknowledging anything that doesn’t make people say WOW or leave tangible evidence as “a lot”. I can spend a day scrubbing the house, cooking for my family, reading to my kids, doing the grocery shopping and taking the kids to the doctor- and I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything at all. I realize that is is not true.

These tasks are extremely important. Raising your babies may not have gratifying moment after moment of contentment, completion and evident value- but it is critical. The sad thing is, motherhood can have contentment, gratification and even completion if you are at peace enough to recognize each beautiful, valuable step in life and embrace and celebrate that. I need more of that.

I also struggle with post partum anxiety. I am not sure if I have ever discussed this on my blog before. Each time I have had a baby I have had a few blissful months, and then I have been eaten alive by anxiety. With Jonas, it was exhausting. With Maggie, it was crippling. She hit a year old and my life stopped. I could hardly leave the house, I couldn’t stand noise, and I thought and thought and thought myself into a horrible, obsessive tizzy until I could barely sleep or function.

There is a ledge between functioning with anxiety and not. I am trying to stay as far away from that ledge as is possible. So far, it is mostly an irritant. Occasionally, I have a really bad day. I don’t tell people about it much, I just muddle through. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I’m just angry that I’m on this train again. And sometimes, I don’t show up physically or emotionally. I am unable.

I’m doing what I can to take care of myself and to deal. I see a therapist. I make sleep and taking care of myself a priority, and so far that is helping. It still isn’t fixed though. The last two times it took several months to get back to feeling like myself. (You know, my usual level of obsessive crazy).

So I’m simplifying.

Most people would say, ‘I’m quitting scrapbooking to pursue other things”. I’m quitting to pursue. . . less. I told my husband I was going to start watching two more television shows a week in an effort to chill out.

Aside: I have a rockin’ husband. I told him that I quit my Design Teams. Since my designing is so closely connected with my paycheck bringing work, he thought I said I had quit my job. To his credit, and I will love him forever for it, he was 100% supportive. There was a very brief flash of “uh-oh” across his face and then he was just there for me. Thanks to that flash, I was able to let him know that I didn’t just sink the family finances- but wow- to know I could have and he loves and supports me anyway? Wow.

So. More TV. More family time. More homework with the kids. More sitting on the living room floor making faces into a mirror with my baby- and all of this without a deadline lingering in the back of my mind. More time to sit, to be still, and to know that He is God.

That’s about perfect.

Also perfect: My birthday is in three days! And I heard a rumor that a very yummy ice cream cake was ordered. For anyone wondering what I might want here is my wishlist. Also, this book, which I couldn’t find at the bookstore today, and cute socks. I’m easy to please. Hee!

(And seriously, no one has to get me anything, but you know. . .just in case).

When we drove home from Utah after our Fourth of July family vacation we, as always, had a very long drive through the very empty state of Nevada. The Nevada desert is dotted with small, rustic towns that are spaced out just far enough to not leave you on the side of the road out of gas and baking under the hot sun. They are, however, spaced far enough apart to frequently leave persons with average to small sized bladders squatting behind tumbleweeds. These persons are all hoping that because Highway 50 is known as “The Loneliest Road in America” it will mean that no one will drive by as they are trying to take their moment pioneer style.

As we made this trip we stopped at the first few stops, fueling up and buying snacks. We enjoyed the drive: I with my book, Chris with his music, the children coloring peacefully in the backseat. It was going very well. We stopped in Ely, took a breather and grabbed some refreshment at a fast food establishment. I, like a fool, got a free refill.

Now, it should be known from the start that I have an abnormally small bladder. No MRI will prove it, as it appears deceptively average, but in a situation where my ability to go long periods of time between potty breaks arises, the truth comes out. It’s about the size of a thimble. When you add to this the fact that I have born three beautiful children, and things are just not what they used to be, most people agree that it is wise and reasonable to just let me go have my moment when I need to have my moment.

As we were driving along I became uncomfortable but knowing we were within a half an hour of Eureka, I decide I could hold it. I let Chris know that we would definitely need to stop in Eureka for a potty break. He said that was alright and continued driving along. Meanwhile, my eyeballs began to float.

Finally, we were at Eureka. We entered the city limits, and before I knew it, my husband drove right on through without even slowing down. I was in pain at this point, but trying to remain calm. I gave him the hairy eyeball, which he didn’t notice, but I didn’t say anything. I saw a settlement about ten miles on the horizon, and I assumed that because my husband had traveled this route so many, many times in his childhood he knew of a good restroom in this outcropping of buildings, perhaps a tidy gas station or a quaint diner. Something. Anything.

I mentioned this to my husband, and he got very quiet. Then he began to apologize and to hope that maybe my toilet fantasy was true. We quickly learned that this outcropping of buildings was nothing more than a barn and some storage sheds.

Now, Austin is the next stepping stone of civilization on the map, but Austin is roughly two hours away. After holding a full bladder for forty-five minutes, there was just no way. And on a drive with three small children, there was also no way I was adding forty minutes onto my trip by turning around.

I am a reasonable woman, a tough, camping sort of woman who can take her moment without the benefit of modern plumbing if she needs to, so after a few minutes of total agony, I told my husband to pull us over so I could take care of things.

At this point, I was in pain and struggling to not have an accident. I threw my shoes on, leaped out of the vehicle and bounded into the desert. I was heading for a rather large sagebrush I saw about 50 yards away from the road; it was just slightly up and over a tiny ridge in the landscape, and just far enough that I figured my bare fanny wouldn’t be highly visible to passers-by. As I hopped awkwardly around cacti and sage I kept a wary eye out for rattlesnakes. I really should have been thinking about smaller problems.

Once I felt I was at a fairly modest distance from the road I started contemplating exactly how this was going to happen. As most of you know, taking your moment pioneer style in a pair of jeans isn’t the easiest thing to accomplish. Judging my lack of dexterity and balance against the distance from the highway, I opted to just remove it all and let loose. After all, I didn’t need to tinkle. I needed to open a flood gate.

I whipped my bottoms off and tossed them on a nearby sagebrush, and then finally, blessedly, found relief.

It was right about now that I noticed that there was a fire ant inches away from my right foot. I hopped to the left, only to discover two more coming from that direction. I hopped back and stepped directly on some very sharp plants. There were more fire ants coming. Inconveniently, I was still having my moment. I knew this was going to be a long moment, so I decided that if I just had my moment on the fire ants, I would be ok. Me against about six feisty little biters. I could do this.

Now, I am not a naturally graceful person to begin with, so you can imagine that hopping barefoot all over cacti and prickly sage trying to both avoid and drown a little brigade of fire ants at the same time (and don’t forget, unclothed from the waist down!) is quite a sight. My husband and children are staring at me. I see therapy bills in my children’s future.

I also see at least fifteen more fire ants moving in rapidly.

Additionally, there is a car slowing down on the highway. They honk at me, and I imagine, they laugh.

I was still having my moment. This is no longer the free refill in action, this isn’t even the orange juice with breakfast. This has got to be the chamomile tea I had at bedtime two nights before finally exiting my body because I have been going for that long.

It is at this point that two things happen. My in-laws, who were driving ahead of us turned around and arrived back at the spot where we were stopped. And I got bit by a blasted ant!

I was now committing an act of indecent exposure in front of my husband’s family and my impressionable children, hopping around in the middle of a wasteland desert, in pain and STILL having my moment. Looking at the silver lining, I was now surrounded by enough fire ants to both carry me off and effectively dispose of my humiliated corpse.

I finally finish, and grab my jeans and my unmentionables from off the sagebrush, shaking them wildly hoping, praying, that there won’t be any ants in my pants. I wriggle into them, and hobble my way back to my ride. When I arrive at my door I stop in absolute shock.

Directly before my passenger seat door is the biggest anthill I have ever seen in. my. life. Easily two by three feet wide and at least a foot tall, this is a mountain of fire ants. I ran directly through this mountain in my haste to get out of the car. There aren’t any other ant hills near us, and my husband and in-laws both say they’ve never seen fire ants on this trip before. Somehow, I managed to have Chris pull over in front of the one and only fire ant volcano on Highway 50. Figures.

Even though I picked at least twenty cacti and sage slivers out of my feet and only had about three fire ant bites, my feet were so swollen I couldn’t walk the next day.

And through all of this- I laughed my head off. Painful, embarrassing, a little dangerous. . .but all the while- I mentally blogged and knew, someday this was going to be one funny post.

Proof that there is more than snow in North Dakota.

I have been telling Chris that I wanted to put family pictures up on the wall for about four years now, and right before we left on vacation we pulled it off! When we moved into this new house I ended up with a stack of mixy-matchy frames shoved between the couch and the wall. They sat there for months looking sloppy while I considered possibilities, vetoed ideas, and arranged the 15 frames in various positions trying to create something that looked nice- without having to run out and spend a lot of money on new frames.

Keep in mind, we’re military. We move A LOT. And while I like to have as finished looking a house as possible, it is totally imprudent to completely redecorate and buy all new curtains and frames and fixtures and furniture to match the home we are currently in. So I try to do most decorating projects on a dime, so to speak.

I feel so moved in! The Air Force is now welcome to give us orders. I have hung both curtains and pictures, so I think this means we should be re-assigned soon. Please?

(Oh- the quote on the lowest frame is from Joseph B. Wirthlin. It says, “Come what may, and love it”. I love this concept, and think that for our family especially, this is a great attitude to have. Whatever comes- choose to love it. Choose happiness. Choose positivity. Make your own peace.

I have a horrid virus. And a wicked sore throat. And a messy house. But those are all just minor annoyances because:

I’ve been invited to be a part of the fantastic Lilybee paper company design team! WOOOO!

I. Am. So. EXCITED.

And, as if that weren’t enough, tomorrow I am getting up very, very early to brave (and I do mean brave) three airports with three small children to go back to the beautiful prairie that I love and which runneth through my veins continually- Fargo, North Dakota! I haven’t been home in four years. Maggie was a baby. Jonas was three.

I get to see my Grandpa! And old friends who I miss! And new friends I’ve made on the internet! How cool is that? In fact, if you’re local- drop me a line- maybe we can all hook up at Lindenwood or something.

(They were THAT little last time). Ok- and beautifully, unless the plane literally falls from the sky- it will have to be a smoother trip than the last trip home part one, part two, part three. (Only read if you want quite the adventure). Oh and how we got home. (good gravy, how long have I been blogging? I must never shut up.)

Yup- this will be A PIECE OF CHOCOLATE LAYER CAKE.

I’m so stoked I don’t know how I’ll sleep tonight.

Sadly for you, and strangely for me, these slacker-guilt feelings are producing absolutely nothing from me. I have an ounce of scrapbooking mojo and just a tish of inspiration that could blossom into more- but I have decided that given the last year or two. . .I’m going to wait until that tish turns into the full blown URGE. Bear with me. I am focusing on my family. And the grime that lurks in my closets.

Now, when I say I am taking it easy- it should be clarified that I am still working my job. I am still raising three children. I still have several projects going. I’m just not doing the extras. My mother told me on the phone that my slacker is more people’s normal. I’m insane like that, and need to learn to take a step back. I’m working on the balance thing.

Let’s talk baby! Gabe just turned five months and it is just awful how fast that happened! He is unequivocally the cutest baby I know. He can roll both ways, he says “dada”, he bounces like a maniac in his jumper and he started solids yesterday. I was going to hold off longer on the solids, but the boy was HUNGRY. So I fed him. Rice cereal is gross, beans are blah, squash is a step up and bananas are goooooooood. He also has his daddy’s hair, not in color but in texture, thickness and anti-gravity qualities. Poor thing. This is going to be a problem as he grows up, but on a baby? Cuuuuute!

Jonas finished summer school, much to his dismay, and we are now doing school at home per his request. He is inhaling workbooks at a slightly slower rate than the first few weeks of summer, but only because he finished all the first grade books and is now doing 2nd and 3rd grade level books, and he has to think for 1.2 seconds before writing in the correct answer, unlike the 1st grade books where the knowledge leaped straight out of his ear and onto the page before he could even pick up his pencil. This is good. His reading is taking off, and the only problem he really has at this point is confidence. He keeps telling me how he just can’t read something, but he is actually 100% able. I think this all exploded so quickly he hasn’t really registered that he can.

Speaking of reading. . .Maggie is starting to do that. She has picked up a few things and I now find myself reading bedtime stories and having her say, “STOP! Did you just read “yes”? Where was it?” And then she scours the page until she finds the word. She seems to get a new word almost every night, and I don’t know where she’s finding them. I have been gearing up to homeschool Kindergarten with her next year (we were going to do pre-school, but based on her skills. . .we already did that unschool style. We also did two-thirds of Kindergarten, for that matter, but I’m going back to fill in the blanks). She has a learning style that is totally unlike her brother’s, and so I am learning as much as she is. These kids are like deciphering code. They have similar system functions- but every process and application runs differently (and crashes differently, for that matter). It is at once beautiful and terrifying as you learn all this at the same time while worrying that you are completely messing up this innocent little human being.

Ok, that’s all for now, so slacker-Leah has a little something to offer you - call it a peace offering for having a stinky blog this month: Two give-a-ways before the end of the month. And they are good ones, if I do say so myself!

Has anyone else noticed that my blog has been blinking in and out of existence this month? Makes updating rather tricky. Blogsome had a server crash, and then the server they transferred it all to got overloaded and it took a few days to fix that as well. If you combine the days the blog was missing to the days that I’ve been totally blahhhhh. ..it doesn’t make for a lot of posting.

I tend to have a cycle where I go a million miles an hour and accomplish a lot, but then I have a day or two where I just plain crash and I can’t do anything I usually do without feeling completely aggravated and perturbed. When this happens, I take a step back, read some books, cook stuff, do projects outside of the world of paper crafts, clean things and sleep. I walk away from normal and get into a different groove, and usually, within 48 hours I’m back on track doing my usual thing.

It’s been 48 hours. In fact. It’s been 72.

It has also been 89, 107 and 196.

It’s been over three weeks.

I am blah.

I am unmotivated.

I am tired.

I want different things, and I would like all of them to come with a nap on the side and a dollop of someone else’s life, if that’s possible.

As strange as it sounds, I don’t feel depressed or hopeless. I just feel like change would be good.

I am a maniac who has to have a three projects underway and I’ve spent the entire week on a picnic blanket with a book. I looked out the window at all of the Moms in my neighborhood who I see sitting on lawn chairs accomplishing absolutely nothing but watching their kids run around the yard and staring off into space and I thought. . . “I think I’ll try that”.

It’s messed up.

What’s wrong with me?

I have a theory.

I think I am burned out.

But multiply burned out by about 20.

I think I made myself go for so long without ever hitting that total-wasteland-pooped-out place while I was pregnant and Chris was deployed and working 3 jobs from home and three kids and life life life LIFE that required me me me ME that I have now hit a WALL. A BIG, BRICK RETAINING WALL. The kind of wall that holds back mountains, is earthquake proof and can only be toppled by crafty trolls and grouchy ogres.

So.

I have decided to spread my picnic blanket at the base, plant irises, pack some fried chicken and a book and camp out until said mythological woodland creatures come knock the wall down.

Because that wall?

It casts some nice shade.

Hi! Remember me? I know, this is serious blog neglect. We took a very last minute road trip to Manti, Utah for the fourth of July. Chris had the leave, then didn’t have the leave, and then he had it again so we hopped in the car and drove off before the Air Force could change their minds! Chris’ family is based in Manti, so we have many reasons to head back there- great grandparents who needed to meet Gabe, a brand new house that’s nearly built for my in-laws, our family cabin up the mountain and the gorgeous, wonderful, my-favorite-spot-in-the-whole-wide-world Manti Temple.

*SIGH*

Beautiful.

I was married there.

To this guy:

Gabe did alright on the road trip. We got an extremely early start the day we left, thanks to my over-excited firstborn who popped out of bed a mere 4 hours after going to sleep, and made me get up and start driving at 2am. I was totally thrashed, but we did have the luxury of sleeping children and almost no traffic, so it wasn’t a bad thing.

We had a beautiful time seeing family and friends and enjoying fireworks over the temple and cozy nights at the cabin, and then we turned around and headed home.

Upon arriving home, Chris and I both got sick. I also had a ton of work that I was behind on, not to mention laundry and all the life stuff that was on hold. I’m in over my head, for sure.

At any rate- it was a lovely little escape from reality. I even broke my cell phone so it was nearly technology-free, and I could use more of that in my life. I would kill for a month of silence and quiet and no buzzing phones and demanding e-mails. . .I suppose I would need to keep my camera around though!

Wouldn’t you agree?