My Crazy Life

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Anyone who knows me knows that I’m not a morning person. Never have been. Never planned to become one. I’m a night owl. Always have been. Thought I always would be.

Then I had a baby, and life changed drastically. I’ve discovered that I just don’t have enough hours in the day to accomplish everything on my to do list. For the past several months, I’ve been staying up for four or five hours after Micah and Dennis go to bed, working, catching up on facebook, reading blogs, and trying to write. When I lay Micah down in the crib, I head straight to the office and get to work.

But I’m finding that arranging my days this way is draining me of life and energy.

I spend all day every day waiting for Micah to take a nap or go to sleep so I can get something done. Instead of spending some much-needed quality time with my husband after Micah goes to bed, I hole up in the office and work feverishly on stationery orders. After a months-long writing hiatus, I’ve lined up several new writing contracts and projects, but I haven’t had time to really work on any of them. I keep thinking that I’ll write after everyone else goes to bed, but that never really happens, because when I open up Word and try to write, I find that I’m too exhausted to actually pen a single word.

In summary, I don’t get to enjoy time with my family, I don’t write, and I’m too tired at the end of the day to really be productive.

Last week, I wrote an article about making the most important relationships in your life a priority for myMISSIONfulfilled. As I wrote, I couldn’t help but feel a bit hypocritical. Here I was writing about making time with God and family a priority, and I’m not entirely successful about doing it in my own life. Sure, I sit down with my journal and Bible most days, but I don’t do it until I’ve put Micah down for her morning nap, which means that I’m awake for nearly three hours before I even think about speaking with God. I sometimes push work responsibilities aside and spend evenings with my family on the front porch, but that happens far less often than it should.

Something has to give.

Which is why I’ve decided to start going to bed earlier and getting up before Micah. My custom has been to fall into bed around 1 a.m. and get up with Micah between 8 and 9 in the morning. I want to shift the schedule, going to bed with Dennis between 9 and 10 at night and waking up at 6 every morning. That gives me at least two hours to spend some quiet time alone with God and write without fear of interruption. I’ll be able to claim Micah’s nap times as work time, since I’ve already read my Bible and maybe even {wonder of wonders} taken a shower. Since I will be working while Micah is napping, I’ll be able to actually focus on making memories with her when she’s awake instead of letting her play alone at my feet while I scramble to get things accomplished. I’m pretty sure that life will improve drastically if I just get up and get going in the mornings.

Novel idea, I know.

It’s one thing to say that I should get up earlier, but it’s another thing to actually do it. That’s why I’m writing about it. It’s your job to hold me to my word. Today marks the beginning of a new month, so it seemed to be an appropriate time to begin the challenge. This morning, I woke up at 9, but tomorrow I will rise at 6 a.m. Promise. You have my word.

I once heard that it takes 21 days to establish a habit. I’m giving myself 30 days to make this life change. I will rise at 6 a.m. for six days a week. On Saturdays, as a treat for getting up early throughout the week, I’ll sleep in with my family. And I’ll write about my progress once a week.

How does that sound? Seems like a good idea to me. Anyone want to take the challenge with me? Maybe it will be easier if we do it together.

One can hope, right?

Until next time, grace and peace.

{image credit here}

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Baby girl’s first birthday bash is right around the corner, which means that party preparations are in full swing. Planning Micah’s birthday party has meant designing a new party suite for this paper fanatic, and I’ve had a lot of fun planning the little details of her big day. It’s the little things that make an event special, you know.

I’ve been seeing these tissue paper pomander balls all over the blogosphere, and, with a little help from Martha, I turned out a slew of them this weekend. I love how whimsical and playful they are, and I can’t wait to decorate with them in a few weeks. If you’re looking for a fun way to add a little flair to your special event, make a few of these pom-poms. You’ll be surprised at how easy they are!

First, as the Pioneer Woman would say, the cast of characters. You’ll need eight sheets of tissue paper. I used 15×20 sheets for the large pom-poms, 10×15 sheets for the medium pom-poms, and 7.5×10 sheets for the small pom-poms. You’ll also need scissors and floral wire.

Stack all eight sheets of paper and fold it accordian-style. On the largest pomanders, I made 1-inch folds, but on the smallest ones, I used 1/2-inch folds. It’s really up to you. The smaller the folds, the harder it is to separate the layers later, so keep that in mind as you’re folding.

Secure your folded paper with about six inches of floral wire, twisting tightly to secure. I plan to suspend the pom-poms from fishing line, so I left enough wire to make a loop and hang, but do whatever you need. If you don’t have floral wire, just improvise and use some twist ties from the kitchen. That will work just fine.

Trim the ends of your paper with scissors. This is honestly the hardest part. I chose to round the ends, but the pomanders are also very pretty with pointed ends. Trim according to your preference.

After you’ve trimmed the ends, fan out the folded paper and carefully separate the layers of tissue paper. The paper is very delicate, so use a gentle hand when separating the paper. I found it easiest to alternate sides as I pulled the paper apart. After you’ve separated all the layers, fluff and shape the pomander until it looks good, then step back and admire your handiwork!

When you hang these with fishing line, they appear to float in midair, but they also look really cute when hung with ribbon. You can fill a clear glass vase with tiny pom-poms and use it as a centerpiece, or you can use medium-sized ones as napkin rings. The options are really limitless.

I’ve had fun with this little project, and I hope you have too! Happy crafting!

Until next time, grace and peace.

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It seems that every time I vow to do better about blogging regularly, life comes along and shoves me right off track. This time, it’s taken a little while to pick myself, and my baby, up and recover my footing, but I’m back, and I hope to actually entertain you with some of the upcoming posts I mentioned a few weeks ago.

But before I do that, I wanted to share the unpleasant adventure we survived last week. Baby girl endured her first trip to the hospital. It was not pleasant, nor was it fun, and I do not wish it upon anyone. Did you know that hospital cribs look like tiny little baby jail cells?

Twas awful.

Micah caught a nasty little stomach bug {as did I} that threw her little system {and my grown up one} for a major loop last week. She threw up once on Friday and once on Saturday, but Sunday morning the floodgates opened and she couldn’t keep anything down. We stopped in at the hospital when she was so lethargic she couldn’t lift her head if she wanted.

If you know my baby, you know that she’s a bundle of energy. She does not like to be cuddled. She wants to be crawling around exploring her world and playing all. the. time. She hates being held like this:

But she was so out of it that she voluntarily laid her head down on her daddy’s chest while we were in the ER. If you ever go to the emergency room and they usher you to a room immediately, you know that it’s serious. My poor pitiful baby was very, very sick. She was severely dehydrated, and her blood sugar had dropped to 50. Once they got an IV in, she perked up a bit.

But she was still pretty puny. Monday she was able to keep down a bit of Gatorade, so they let us go home, but it soon became obvious that the virus was still ravaging her little tummy. Tuesday morning she couldn’t even keep down a teaspoon of Gatorade. A teaspoon! Do you know how minuscule a teaspoon is?

It was scary. Very, very scary, but thankfully, we finally got the vomiting under control and she’s back to normal now. And let me just say that she’s hungry. Very, very hungry. Which is good, since she lost a whole pound while she was sick. That’s a lot for such a tiny little girl.

Anyway, many of you knew all of this already, but I wanted to write and thank you for all of the prayers and kindness you showed us last week. We needed your help, and you provided in a very real way. We’re more grateful for your love and support than you’ll ever know.

Until next time, grace and peace.

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It’s birthday season in the Jones household. Mine came and went on Saturday, and, shockingly enough, baby girl’s first birthday is coming up next month. I didn’t eat any cake or blow out any candles on my birthday, but I did go out on a date with my hubby, and then we went to Best Buy and drooled over my new camera. OK, so it’s not mine yet. But I have ordered it. And it should arrive sometime in the next century.

The camera is definitely one of the best birthday presents ever. Four years ago, my sweet husband coerced our entire family into pooling their money and purchasing me a Canon Rebel XT. It has been good to me, but it’s time to upgrade, so I’ve sold it, and my parents and in-laws once again donated funds to make up the difference. Thanks, y’all!

I’m not the only one who likes presents, right? Let’s be honest. We all like gifts. And packages in the mail. And cards from friends and family. And freebies.

That’s why I’m giving away two sets of custom notecards from Senojal Designs. I’m celebrating my birthday by giving gifts to you!

To enter, simply click through to my etsy shop, browse through the custom notecards, and leave a comment on this post telling me which design is your favorite. It’s that simple! Please use your actual e-mail address on the comment form, otherwise I won’t be able to get in touch with you if you win.

Now for the nitty gritty details. One entry per person, please. Feel free to share some giveaway love and tweet, blog, or update your status with a link to this blog entry. The giveaway will be open from now until 11:59 p.m. on Tuesday, August 17. Two winners {selected by a random number generator} will each receive one set of 12 custom notecards from Senojal Designs.

Now, get to to commenting! And spread the birthday love!

Until next time, grace and peace.

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Hi! Remember me? I’m the girl who used to write here. Life has been very busy lately, and I have been so busy living it that I haven’t had the time to sit down and write, but I have big plans for the future. I’ve had lots of post ideas rolling around in my head over the past few weeks, and I plan on rolling them out over the next several days.

Actually putting that in writing obligates me to follow through.

At least, that’s the plan.

But for now, I just wanted to pop in and say hi and let you know that I’m thinking about you. As the summer days wind down and fall approaches, life should slow down a bit, but things rarely happen as they should, do they?

Anyway, I’ll be back soon. I just wanted to say hi.

Until next time, grace and peace.

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I used to be an avid reader. I devoured books. Inhaled them. I would stay up all hours of the night to finish just one more chapter, which, in actuality turned into reading the entire book in one sitting. I loved books. When I was a little girl, my mom would take me to the library, and I’d max out my library card on Nancy Drew mysteries and Sweet Valley Twins volumes. In high school, my obsession with Mary Higgins Clark novels led me to read every single book she ever wrote. In college, I read anything and everything I could get my hands on.

Then I went to seminary, and my days of reading for pleasure ended abruptly. I had no time to read for pleasure after I finished reading for class. And let me tell you: there was lots of reading for class. We read books and wrote reviews to sharpen our critical thinking skills, and apparently those skills needed lots of sharpening, because I read hundreds of books and thousands of pages for my classes.

During each semester, I compiled a list of books that I would like to read, if only I had the time. But I never had the time. I always imagined that after graduation I would pick up where I left off in my love affair with books.

But it seems that books and I are still taking a break in our relationship. I honestly do not remember the last book I read from cover to cover, and that’s a shame, because we really did have a good thing going back in the day.

I’m trying to repair our broken relationship, but it’s not easy. My attention span just isn’t what it used to be, and sometimes taking a nap is a lot more appealing than opening a book. But I’m trying. I started by purchasing one of the books on my wish list: The God I Don’t Understand, by Christopher Wright. And I’m making progress. Just last night I turned the page on chapter five.

In addition to actually purchasing a book, I have also signed up as a reviewer for Book Sneeze, a book review program offered by Thomas Nelson. Basically, I receive free books in exchange for blogging book reviews. I like free books. Don’t you? I should be receiving my first book soon. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all about it later.

Reading is a discipline that I have neglected lately, but it’s a discipline that’s absolutely necessary for any writer. All good writers are voracious readers. That’s just how it is. You cannot be a good writer unless you are first a good reader. I’m afraid that the drought in my writing life is directly tied to the drought in my reading life. Reading introduces me to fresh ideas and even sharpens my critical thinking skills.

I guess the professors knew what they were doing when they forced us to read.

But I will never forgive a certain church history professor for making me read all 736 pages of Creeds of the Churches. Never. I’m just saying.

All of this thought about books has made me wonder what everyone else is reading these days. What’s on your nightstand? What should I add to my reading list? Go on and tell me. I want to know!

Until next time, grace and peace.

{image credit here}

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My baby girl turned 10 months old Saturday. As she gets older and starts looking more like a little girl and less like a baby, it’s the little things I want to remember.

Like these chubby little legs.

This excitable nature.

And this sweet little spot on the back of her neck.

This innocent delight.

And, of course, these bright blue eyes and two tiny teeth.

I could go on and on. At 10 months old, Micah has a fearlessness that I envy and a mischievousness that gets her in trouble. She plays peek-a-boo with us, crinkles up her little nose and snorts at us, follows us, and climbs all over us. She’s on the verge of walking and takes every opportunity to practice standing up. Though she started out as a picky eater, now she’ll eat anything we put in front of her, but she has a fondness for Cheerios and bananas that can’t be beat. She’s sweet and funny and easy-going and happy and as delightful as a little girl can be.

As she grows up before my eyes, It’s the little things I want to savor and remember. Soon her mouth will be filled with lots of tiny little teeth. That sweet spot on the back of her neck will be covered with blonde curls, and the chub will fall off her little legs. But her eyes will always be bright blue. And I pray that she’ll keep her innocent delight and sense of adventure. Right now, the little things are the precious things in our lives.

Until next time, grace and peace.

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Yesterday, Micah and I traveled to the big city so I could shop for a new swimsuit. Let’s just say that after giving birth to a child, my old suits are a little {ahem} inappropriate. It was time for a new swimsuit.

I hadn’t exactly been looking forward to the task, but white water rafting and log flumes are looming in my future, and it was now or never. I chose now.

Because I had to return a pair of sandals to Target, I decided to start there, and after getting Micah settled into her stroller, I promptly selected about 207 items to try on my post-baby body. I made my way to the fitting room, where the attendant looked horrified at the mountain of clothes I had piled onto the stroller’s handles. I assured her that I would only take six items into the room at a time. She handed me my number tag, and I wheeled the stroller into the narrow walkway between the dressing rooms.

Which is where I discovered a few things.

First: the stroller wouldn’t fit through the stall door.

Second: if I somehow managed to wrangle the stroller through the door, I wouldn’t fit in the stall. Which would defeat the purpose of getting the stroller into a fitting room.

Third: the handicapped stall was occupied.

I decided to wait it out. When a little blonde girl about as big as my pinkie finger finally left the handicapped fitting room, I wheeled the stroller in and settled into the task of finding a flattering suit. Imagine my shock when the first tankini I tried on was a winner! I was even more pleased to discover I needed a smaller size.

I flipped through the pile of swimsuits I had hauled into the fitting room to find the smaller size {because I always take at least two sizes of the same item into a dressing room with me}, but I was out of luck. So, I pulled on one of the swimsuit coverups I had selected, left behind my clothes, and strolled out of the dressing room. I quickly retrieved the size I needed, made my way back to the fitting rooms, wheeled the stroller into the hallway, and opened the door of the handicapped stall.

And startled a half-dressed college girl.

Oops.

I quickly closed the door and asked tentatively, “Umm…are my clothes still in there?”

“I guess so,” she replied. “I’ll be out in a minute and switch to another room.”

“I’m so sorry!” I answered. “I didn’t realize you were in there.”

And then the awkward silence followed, during which I wondered, “What is it with these girls taking the handicapped stall??”

When she hurriedly exited the stall with an armload of bikinis, I avoided her eyes and scurried back inside the only room that would hold both me and the stroller. I shed the too-big suit and tried on the smaller size.

It fit! Yay for finding an appropriate swimsuit so quickly! But I had other items to try on, so I took off the suit and laid it on the bench.

Which is when I discovered the poor girl’s undergarments. That’s right. Undergarments. Plural. Bra and Panties.

As if I hadn’t already exchanged enough awkwardness with the girl, now I had to tell her that she left her underwear behind.

Who in the world tries on bikinis without their underwear?? The thought makes me shudder. Seriously. Who does that??

The crazier thing, when I knocked on the girl’s stall and told her she had left her underwear behind, she denied it!

“No, I didn’t,” she said. “I’m wearing my panties.”

Umm…no you’re not, I thought to myself. I know because they’re in a pile in my dressing room.

“Maybe I left my bra in there,” she said.

Yes, you did, I thought. And your panties!

“Well, you’ll probably want your stuff before you leave. Just wanted to let you know that it was in there,” I muttered.

I tried to finish up and get out of there before she did, but I was unsuccessful. When we met in the hallway, again, I stepped aside and let her grab her undergarments. Plural.

Funny thing. The panties that weren’t hers disappeared from the bench.

Now why would she go and take someone else’s underwear?

I’m just saying.

Don’t you wish you were me? Needless to say, when I got home, I promptly threw my new suit into the washing machine. Wouldn’t you?

Until next time, grace and peace.

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I grew up eating watermelon and shooting fireworks on the Fourth of July, but when I married Dennis, I was introduced to another brand of Independence Day festivities. What could be more exciting than watermelon and fireworks, you ask? Catfish and turtle races.

Every year, the fine people at Cato Baptist Church host a catfish fry and turtle race to celebrate the Fourth of July. It’s always an event to remember. Not only is the catfish amazing {so I hear, I’m not a catfish connoisseur}, the turtle race is also a source of delight for both kids and adults.

The hunt for turtles begins weeks before the race. In years past, my father-in-law has been known to drag the pond to catch a slew of turtles. For a couple of years, the Jones family supplied many a kid in Cato with a turtle to enter in the race. We always had a winner, since we held a couple of practice rounds in the yard before we headed off to the race.

That’s not cheating, is it??

But this year, there was no pond dragging. Micah and her cousins had one turtle to share between them. Lauren {my niece} dubbed him Rufus. We painted his name on his back, loaded him in a bucket, and headed off to church, sure that he would give the other turtles a run for their money.

Not so. Rufus didn’t move. At all. The race began, and other turtles scurried to the edge of the circle. But not Rufus. He stayed put. Never moved a muscle.

So much for our winning streak.

There’s always next year, right??

Until next time, grace and peace.

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I have declared today to be a day of rest. We have been going nonstop for the past few weeks, and last night I crashed. Literally. I fell into bed at 9:30 p.m. If you know me at all, you know that an early bedtime is incredibly unusual for me. I tend to stay up very late. I always have. But last night, my body told me that it needed to get horizontal. So I listened.

Thankfully, my sweet child slept all the way through the night and only woke up when I went to get her at 9 this morning. We ate breakfast together and played for a bit, but when naptime rolled around, I got her settled and crawled back into bed myself.

For two more hours.

I feel much better now.

Now it’s naptime {again}, and I’ve managed to clean the bathroom and take out the trash. It may sound kind of crazy, but it was a relaxing activity. I’ve been so busy with Senojal Designs lately that I’ve let housework slide. Finally tackling the ring around the bathtub gave me a sense of accomplishment. Thank goodness that I finally eradicated it. Now I can actually soak in the tub without worrying that I’ll catch some kind of communicable disease.

I don’t have much more on the agenda today. When Micah wakes up, we’ll play for a while, and I’ll cook supper, and we’ll have some family time before it’s time for bed again.

It hasn’t been a very exciting day, but it’s been a good day. Everyone needs a day of rest sometimes. How do you relax??

Until next time, grace and peace.

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