She Resolved to Love Herself, Frizzy Hair and All. (What Happened Next Will Probably Not Astound You.)

There was something freeing about 2016. It was, after all, the year I began to (sort of) fully embrace fullness. 

It was the year I accepted my hair, realizing it will never be smooth or sleek or even curling-iron-curly. But will always be full bodied, always voluminous, often frizzy, never flat. I bought products to enhance those traits, all from the way too expensive but works better than anything else I've found Deva line, products touting Set it Free and Hair in Heaven!

It was the year I picked up the tweezers less and less, wishing I had never picked it up in the first place, to begin the regrowth process on brows that use to be vogue, waxed pencil thin, harsh, but are now so outdated they practically scream early 2000s. I bought products to remedy that too, filling in my misdeeds with ANASTASIA Brow Powder and pomade to give me the currently coveted Boy Brow. My dad would be horrified if I came around with a tattoo, but does microblading even count? I'm imagining if he knew some tattoos come in the form of really realistic looking eyebrows, he might even consider it for his ever so slowly but still surely receding hairline. We could get our first tattoos together... we never actually made it on a skydiving date before I got married and had kids. This suddenly seems like the safer, I'll be home in time to make dinner dear, sort of option.  (Moment of transparency: A few stray brows managed to find their way down to my chin. The tweezers hasn't completely retired.)

It was the year I accepted my legs will never be flamingo-long, but penguins, though one never gushes over their legs, are cute too.

This acceptance of things I can't or don't even need to change, may have been induced by the coming of age. Twenty-five has always been so much closer to thirty than twenty-four will ever be. 

And I'm married, only striving to impress one man now. He makes it easy, I know he preferences. I even listed a pair of comfortable Madewell pants in my Instagram shop, selling them even though I still liked them, simply because I knew he didn't. If that's not heartfelt love, tell me what is? I hope the lucky girl who got them has a husband who appreciates pajama style bottoms that are meant for dressier occasions.

2017, I thought to myself, is going to be the best year yet. It's going to be the year I start being me, and stop worrying so much about what doesn't matter... like smooth, silky hair, and perfect brows and clothes that flatter. 

Ironically, the very first day of 2017 landed, smack, on a Sunday.

I picked out my outfit: a black pencil skirt, oversized red sweater, black tights, and heeled leather booties. The whole look would be pulled together with the only glamorous thing I own, a sparkling statement necklace. 

It was 2017, I concluded. The year I won't spend every Sunday afternoon standing in front of the hanging mirror, putting together horrible outfit combinations that look fine to me any other day of the week. 

I glanced in the mirror, determined it would be a one shot, no more outfits needed, sort of night. 

Wrong.

The proportions were off, I looked like an old fashioned school teacher in those silly tights, and that pencil skirt certainly wasn't elongating penguin legs. Nothing was working.

My husband, the only man I'm striving to impress, gave me a few suggestions. But body-con dresses are never church worthy. Take me on a date, I cry, and then maybe I'll wear that silly thing. Whatever he likes about that dress I will never understand. 

I tried my only maxi skirt. It didn't work either. The last time I tried to wear it, I hung it back up, deciding it too would be listed on Instagram, but this time because I was the one not so fond of it. Back it went, to the sell-when-I-get-around-to-it stack.

Black jeans. That's my Sunday night uniform. Why didn't I think of those in the first place? I would have saved myself hassle. But yes, turns out those Madewell black jeans truly weren't made well. I discovered that on the eve of Christmas Eve, when sitting cross-legged on the living floor at my husband's Amish grandparent's place I glanced down. Skin was showing were skin, when wearing jeans, should never be showing. 

So there I am, still standing in my room, yanking things from the closet and throwing them on, only to throw them off again. 

Well, it looks better than your last outfit, he said, when I finally came out, ready or not, 'cause it's time to go. He dislikes maxi skirts and dresses even more than I do. 

I sort of impressed him, I guess, in my olive pants and white button up.

2017, we are only on day two of you, and already I've broken resolutions to be okay with myself. I'm going to go shopping for some nice church clothes, or, more than likely, just a pair of black jeans to get me through another year of Sunday nights. 

I'm not giving up, though. I've got my tweezers handy for those migrating brow hairs, but otherwise, I'm going to work on my fully embrace who I really am.

Carson-isms

"Oh my cow!"  The blending of phrases I heard after Carson shot the already mounted deer head hanging on our wall with his Nerf gun. What a good reminder that someone is listening to expressions I say, and quickly catching on. 

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"Mom, I forgot my phone number!"  When he realized he left is toy phone at home.

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He was near tears and frantically tugging at my leg when I hit the power button on our vacuum. As the swirl of the brush began to slow and the roar of the machine died down, I leaned to his level, asking what had happened to make him this upset.

Mooooom," he wailed, his voice quivering, "my puppies! You swept them up!"

We fished around in the canister, looking for those furry, imaginary friends, and surprisingly found them, tucked in against the hair balls and dust bunnies. Carson said they were okay, then I asked him their names. We decided on Selena and Fredrick. 

They were with us the rest of the day, chasing me as I finished vacuuming, nearly getting swept up again. Nipping at my heels while I put away the freshly laundered and neatly folded baby clothes. Somehow they managed to ride along to town too, where grocery shopping and banking and a trip to the car wash were all in order.

We were half way home when I heard it again, that quivering and desperate voice... "We forgot the puppies at the post office! Mooooom, you've got to turn around!"

Those puppies don't even chew on things, yet they were about to exasperate me. 

I reached over, my hand grasping thin air in my diaper bag, and... Tada! There they were, the two naughty puppies Carson thought he had forgotten.

"Silly puppies..." he cooed, when I handed Fredrick and Selena back to him. "You were playing hide and go seek."  It was relief that swept over me. We wouldn't need to alert the Sheriff or the Dog Pound... Our lost imaginary friends had been found.

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Without fail, if I make email (oatmeal) for breakfast, at least one person will request thirds. And if we go to Oak Leaf Cafe for a treat, at least one person will ask for a cookie with brain-kills. (Sprinkles.)

The Fixer-Upper House on the Fixer-Upper Hill

In the past week I've had three different people ask if I've been taking before and after photos of projects we've been working on around our house, mentioning that I need to record them.

I haven't done the best job at getting good photos - so angles and lighting won't be great. But nonetheless, I am going to post them.

Sometimes, when projects take long, and not all is done at once, it can seem as though not much as changed. It's really good for me to pull the old photos out, to remember what our place use to be and to see how far we've come.

I wouldn't have saw the potential in this place had Herm and I been house shopping together. It was a run down and overgrown property. The house smelled of stale smoke, cigarette burned carpets telling its tale. There was still food in the fridge, a fridge that was set to 55* F for over a year. The place was filthy, and felt like the inside of an icebox, with the flooring, walls, and ceiling all in various shades of white or cream. (Even the kitchen counter tops and cabinets blended in, their beige-yellow tones adding no favor.)

But it was because of this house, and Herm's dream of moving to New York, that our paths crossed. The weekend we first met was the weekend Herm had closing on the place, the mortgage now in his name.

Our story happened fast, within 13 months we went from complete strangers to lovers, now married and figuring out what life would look like together.

Every weekend during our first year of marriage was spent on house projects, on cleaning up the yard, building shelving in the closets, painting and repainting. We were broke, to put it bluntly, so the projects were small, we did what we could, when we could.

Over time our savings grew, as did the budget for each project. Herm is a carpenter, so he has the knowledge and the tools needed for almost everything we did. And if you give me a paint brush or drop me off at a thrift-store I can run with it...

Now, over four years later, the transformation is amazing -- and as we dream, our project list keeps on growing, even after so many things have already been checked off.

We're even dreaming about the next fixer upper we could flip together... but until then, we'll keep on creating and painting and thrifting to make this house even more of a home. (I'm currently searching for a large oriental rug, a leather or velvet sofa and two accent chairs, an antique bench and a cow hide rug... so, fellow thrifters, feel free to be on the lookout for me!)

As you can see, the house really lacked depth and texture and warmth. When Herm first bought the place, his family blessed him greatly by coming to New York for a long weekend of scrubbing and painting and making the place livable. I've heard horror stories of what was scraped up around the toilet and of the grease coated liberally on the kitchen stove. 

They painted the main living area, and shampooed the carpets. That helped some with the stale smoke smell, though on cold, damp days the odor still managed to seep out of the walls...

The Kitchen:

This was the kitchen before Herm's family came to clean and paint...

And this was after his family spent the weekend painting.

Then he married me, lover of all things neutral, so the entire place was repainted again. I also painted the cabinets and counter tops with a specialty paint from Rustoleum. Because money was tight at the time, I didn't want to spend on adding subway tile for the back-splash, so my talented sister painted the wall to look like it.

Eventually I took two cabinets doors off, so that I would be able to display cups and dishes. And most recently, we replaced all of the flooring in our house with this laminate wood floor. Good-bye ugly linoleum, later disgusting carpet!

The Dining Room:

This was right after we got married.

And this was taken today. As you can see, new paint color, new flooring, as well as a new table, butchers block bar, and bar stools -- all handmade by Herm! We are planning to change the lighting in here, make a bench for the table, and find new chairs too. 

The Living Room:

When it was still a mancave...

We built a fake fire place at one point. But later moved that, along with the TV screen down to our cold, damp, unfinished basement. Out of sight, and out of mind! Best decision ever, if you ask me. My husband doesn't really agree... yet.

I rearrange furniture as though it were a hobby. So the living room has boasted many different layouts. We also added a wood stove, which is our main source of heat. The photo above was taken shortly before we tore out that gross carpet I keep mentioning.

And this is the living room, currently

The Bathroom:

Wooden seat, awful cabinets, and a RUG by the toilet. Excuse me while I go throw up.

Not a great after photo, but it's ten times better. Just trust me. 

The Bedrooms:

Ours, above. Carson's below.

My sister, Kate, painted the mural.

And that's it. At least for today.

xoxo,

Sarah

16. Read a Classic by Jane Austen

I've never given them much of a chance. In my mind books by Jane Austen seemed frivolous and dull and overly feminine, completely not my style. But, as has been the case for a lot of things I had completely written off before actually trying it -- it truly wasn't that bad.

I don't know exactly what made me add reading a classic by her to my 25 Before 26 list. Perhaps it was because several people who I greatly admire recently had been talking about her work, or maybe it was because I knew it would be a challenge for me, something that I needed to overcome. I love reading, but I really haven't delved into many classics, so why not start?

I picked up Pride and Prejudice, a large print, well worn copy, from my library to take along on a weekend trip we were taking to the mountains. My husband's family owns a cabin in rural Pennsylvania. Every year, right after Thanksgiving, we make the trip down there for the opening week of buck season. While Herm and the rest of the guys spend most of their time out in the woods, the ladies and kids stay back at the cabin. Carson and Brooklyn were both very entertained by their cousins, and I got to spend hours curled up near the wood stove, attempting to follow along to a book that was written in Old English, while lots of noise and chaos and conversations were happening around me. 

I didn't hate the book but neither did I love it. 

I've seen snippets of the movie, so I felt like I knew the general story line. And it was sort of what I figured it would be -- prim and proper and a bit stuffy. But there was something about the story, even though it was written in Old English, which is rather difficult to understand, that made me want to keep on going, to know what else would happen. And, before the week was up, I had completely finished the novel.

I might borrow the movie now, to see if that would make me appreciate the book a bit more. 

I'm glad I did read it, but at this point, I don't think I'll be laboring over the rest of Austen's work.

To give you an idea what old English is like, watch this version of a classic children's story.

What about you: Do you enjoy a good classic? What's your favorite title?

That Last Minute Gift Guide

It's ironic, me creating a gift guide, for, as I've mentioned before, I am the worst at gifting. I think some people are naturals at it, always find the perfect thing for each and every person on their list. I, however, am not that person. I over think it; wanting the person the gift is intended for, to love the item and find it useful; and I penny-pinch, hard --I don't have a chance, I was born into a Mennonite family of German heritage, and both Mennonites and Germans are known for being stingy frugal-- which becomes frustrating too, because high quality gifts often aren't cheap.

But this season I'm trying to loosen up a bit, not over thinking it, and, without breaking the budget of course, learn to be okay spending a bit more to give quality.

So here are a few simple ideas that I think would make lovely gifts for any person in your life. If you're like me, never knowing what to give, maybe you will find this list useful too.

For the ladies:
Hammered Circle Earrings // fashionABLE  *I own these and LOVE them!
The Broken Way // Ann Voskamp *currently reading this
Commissioned Art Work // Esther Weaver  *she's cool
Fringed Crescent Necklace // Noonday Collection *on my wishlist

For the kiddos:
Wooden Sling Shot // Etsy
Curious George Treasury Collection
Wooden Camera // Etsy

For the men:
Shawl Neck Sweater // AE
 Leather Billfold // Parker and Clay
Granite Drink Dispenser 

What about you: do you have any fun gift ideas, link them in the comments below!

Twenty-five Before Twenty-six

Photo by LYNDSI Photography

I've had well over a year to think about this, and I did, somewhat.

But of course, I leave it to the last minute, two nights before my birthday, to sit down and hash it out, deciding what will make it on the list.

You might remember, back when I was a young thing, barely twenty-three, I came up with a list of twenty-three things I wanted to accomplish before I turned twenty-four. As the year progressed, I worked my way through the list, blogging about each item as it was crossed off. I didn't have a 100% success rate, but I did complete most of those items. That year stands out, prominent, in my mind, as fun and rewarding and fulfilling.

So here I am, back at it again, working on perfecting "The List".


Like last time, I want this to be a set of realistic goals, some fun and free, while others challenging, seeming a bit more like work.   And also, like last time, as I accomplish each of these goals, I'll be blogging about it.


1. Take a Sabbath from social media one day per week for the next three months
I love social media, but I do spend too much time on it. I'm going to use Sunday as my day off from it, not opening or scrolling through any accounts from 6 am - 9 pm. My goal is to be present with my family, or truly resting during that time. (Ultimately, I want to do this for an entire year, but I'm starting out small.)

2. Participate in a group workout with an instructor
This was on my 23 before 24 list, and sadly, I didn't complete it. We're giving it a try again. I'm thinking Crossfit and maybe a class of Barre too, if I'm up for it.

3. Write more love notes
A good marriage doesn't just happen. I want to be more intentional in telling Herm how and why I love and admire him.

4. Memorize three passages of scripture with Carson
We're almost through our first, Psalms 23. The two I plan to add are The Beatitudes from Matthew 5 and the Christmas Story from Luke 2.

5. Attend a writers workshop
Because my dream of being a published author will never happen if I don't make it happen.

6. Set up and follow through with a zero based budget
Hello Dave Ramsey, I'm coming to you!

7. Take dance lessons
So as not to look so Mennonite on the dance floor of every wedding reception we attend.

8. Try a new dish
Maybe with my foodie friends, or maybe just for us. It's got to be something I've never made with ingredients that are new to me.

9. Take the kids to the Strong Museum of Play in Rochester 

10. Write a handwritten note to someone I greatly admire
Maybe include a good bar of chocolate + locally roasted coffee.

11. Sew an outfit for Brooklyn
Top, bloomers, and a headband. And if I'm feeling super ambitious, make something to match for myself. Well, not the bloomers.

12. Teach Carson to swim
Either in group classes or by myself. This is something I want him to know soon.

13. Hand copy the book of Proverbs into a notebook *

14. Take a personal retreat
I deeply love my family, but it's always good to get away for a bit, so I can be refreshed to love them well all over again.

15. Teach Carson the entire alphabet
He's got a good grasp of this already, but I want him to recognize upper and lower case letters and be able to write them out.

16. Read a classic by Jane Austen
I never gave these a chance. Maybe it's time.

17. Channel my inner yogi by mastering a headstand

18. Visit a new country *
Two years ago I included this as well, thinking it wouldn't happen, but it did! I'm adding it again because I have a passport and am always eager to travel.

19. Visit another National Park

20. Become friends with someone different than I *
In age, nationality, and/or religion

21. Learn how to make something new *
In other words, take crafting lessons from my sister or learn floral arrangements from my sister-in-law.

22. Interview and write about my Grandparents' lives

23. Re-read a book by Janette Oke
It was her Love Comes Softly series that made me fall in love with what I thought of as a chore, reading.

24. Do something about those wisdom teeth

25. Blog regularly
At the least once every other week


*subject to change because they were all on the other list

Currently

Reading: This summer the stack of books I was trying to work my way through, More Than Enough by Dave Ramsey, Uninvited by Lysa Terkeurst, Present Over Perfect by Shauna Niequist, were all but discarded, for every time I would curl up on the couch with the intent of reading, a cute little boy would snuggle in next to me, reminding me that it was my turn to read Curious George or Richard Scary's Busy Busy World to him -- for the tenth time over.

My love for audio books has greatly increased as a mom; it's in those mundane rituals of laundry folding and toilet scrubbing and dinner making where the magic of "reading" happens now. I use the app Overdrive to borrow audio books from my library. I can download them onto my iPhone, listen to them, and returns happens automatically - no fines for books overdue!

This week I downloaded Small Great Things, by Jodi Picoult.

Picoult is known for tackling sticky issues, things that make most of us uncomfortable, this book is no exception -- it is about Ruth, a labor and delivery nurse, who was banned from caring for an infant because of her skin color. The father of the child is a white supremacist who doesn't want any Person of Color near his son.
In the course of events, the infant dies in the hospital, and even though there were others on staff as well, Ruth is the only nurse who was taken to court and tried for murder.
The author weaves three points of view through the book, that of Ruth, the African-American nurse, that of Kennedy, Ruth's lawyer, and of Turk, the skin-head father.
It's an eye opening book, and with everything that 2016 showed us about racism and how it's still so prevalent today, I encourage you to read it... I'm guessing it'll show you biases in your own life, and hopefully give you understanding into why this is such an important topic to work through individually and as a nation. I highly recommend this book.

*Book does contain explicit and offensive language


Loving: Leg day... or rather, the definition I've been noticing after months of "leg days", where I challenge myself with lots of squat and plié and barre workouts focused on my thighs + butt.

Since Brooklyn was born, I've gotten out for a few runs, but not the 3-5 runs per week that use to be my normal. It seems as though at least one, if not both of my kids, start complaining and crying when strapped in the stroller or I don't have enough time between naps and errands or, or, or... I make excuses and running suddenly isn't priority.
 I miss it.
However, I've been opting for short, intense workouts 3-5 days per week -- then, if I have the time or energy to get out for a walk or jog with the kids several times each week I do. Although, to be honest, I also count cleaning and chasing after Carson or going to get the mail as cardio too. :)

I love knowing that even just 15 minutes per day is completely worth the effort, and if done right, you will notice results. You don't have to be a gym rat to be fit or have muscle definition. I promise! Just add a bit of HIIT (high intensity interval training) into your routine.


Dreaming: The year I did my 23 before 24 challenge --where I created a list of 23 things to do before I turned 24-- was so much fun. I'm turning 25 next week, and I'm dream up a new list to work on this coming year; things like sew an outfit for Brooklyn, reach a new fitness goal (headstands? run 20 miles? try Crossfit?), take a writers workshop, memorize more scriptures with Carson, etc.

It's sort of daunting, coming up with 25 things to do... And I'm open to creative ideas. What should I add to this bucket list of sorts?


Wishing: Be warned, if you have a little girl to dress, Etsy is a black hole, which leaves me wishing for all the things. Like this and this and this.

You're welcome.


Thinking About: Dinner. Or rather, what's for dinner? I wish I had a better system in place for planning and preparing meals... It's one of my least favorite yet most important tasks each day, and I have zero creativity with it. Have you ever used Prep Dish or a similar menu planning service? Please, please comment with all your menu planning tips and tricks. I'm begging of you!
My husband would be most grateful.


Listening to: The belly laughter of Carson and the bear-like growls of Brooklyn as they are playing together post nap. I'm going to assume all is well... because with those two you never know.


What are you currently up to?