Updating my blog

As most of you know, this is only one of THREE blogs I write and keep up.  I know, I'm a little nuts.  But the past two months I've been secretly working on conglomerating them all and now, it's a reality!  I've had some wonderful help in this process and I'm endless grateful. 

Now, I'm a little worried that the readers I've gained on this blog will not follow me over :(  I worked so hard to make this a great blog full of smiles and info.  My BIG blog will be more of the same, just everything all in the same spot. 

I will have my running updates, photography, sewing, food/recipes, thoughts and adventures with my kids organized so it's only one click of the button instead of three.  I really love my new blog and I know you all will too.  Please join me over there!

I have Facebook page with cute updates and info on up and coming posts, if you have a request for something you'd like me to write on or do so you can see how it's done, you can post it there!

Mommy Hobbies on FB

Hop on over to my new home and let me know what you think!  I have a goal to reach 400 readers by the end of this year.  And I want each of them to be people like you all who enjoy what I do and follow me because you want to, not because someone begged you. 

The New Mommy Hobbies Site!

Writing is my passion and it brings me such great joy to write and read the comments, or notes sent by people who were touch by my sharing a particular story.  Don't leave me now!  We're only getting started :)

Thank you all so much for your support!

Of Food and Love: This Weekend: Be Free

Of Food and Love: This Weekend: Be Free: Catch the full post over here... Be Free

Of Food and Love: Papa & Mama

Of Food and Love: Papa & Mama: I posted on my new blog today...the differences between D and I and how we... Papa & Mama <~~~ click to read the post

You can't hide the truth

I have tried though.  But, in January of this year it became glaringly evident that it was no longer possible to ignore.
I was pulling my hair back, trying to fiddle my fuzz into an acceptable hairstyle when I noticed something.  A hair that was not like all the others.  Need I mention its color?  I think not, because SURELY I am not the only one who has experienced this. 

At first it was only a couple inches in length, and just last week I found it again and, "My! how it has grown!"  Don't know what I was thinking when I, sadly enough, convinced myself that hairs that color just stop growing after a certain length, and, maybe even fall out shortly after their appearance.  I'm not lying when I write this.  Dumb, dumb, dumb.  It's STILL here, much longer, and it reflects the light much differently than my black locks. 

I'm aging.  I can't hide it any longer.  Truth be told, I had visions of plucking it, but then I stopped myself, because I didn't want to be like everyone else.  I just stared at it, wrinkled my brow, cried a little inside and then tucked it under all the other hair that is NOT that color.  (notice, I can not even bring myself to even mention its shade... *grumble*)

Not saying I'm happy about this change in my life...you know, this new color hair moving in, uninvited and all but I'm trying to embrace it.  I even forgot about it for like a month...I'm seriously hoping that they don't all decide to move in at the same time.  I heard stress is the perfect breeding ground for its kind.  Uhm, full body massage, cucumber facial, detox diet and a vacay in Europe please, thank you.

I honestly have the face of a twenty year old.  Cruel joke, Mother Nature.  Rude. 
She gives my family genes a drink from the fountain of youth and when I turn 30 she sticks it to me.  Seriously, people are going to think I'm graying prematurely.
Once again.  Rude.

Whatever, so here I am, 30, my hair is changing, one strand at a time and I'm befuddled.
Who has a face like this and has an easy time convincing people they will be turning 31 in a couple of months?  Oh, yes, that would be me. 

Uhm, anyone else have any dark secrets they'd like to share about their body betraying them?

Let's be honest

If you're a mom, and this thought hasn't flitted through your mind ONCE I might call you a liar...maybe.

But, I'm being honest.  This thought has gone through my mind and more so, just recently. 

I think

I WANT A NANNY. 

That sounds so, bad.  I mean, it's like sacrilege to all stay-at-home-moms.  But, I told you that I'm being honest so, just hear me out and then forget everything I've written.
My house irritates me when it gets messy.  It's nothing a good two hour cleaning can't handle but still.  My mood takes a dip south and I start snapping at people.  For those who don't know, I make these cute PUnk MOnkeys and they take up a lot of my time.  With kids, it takes me close to three days to make one.  Without kids and uninterrupted.  About three hours.  How do I know that?  I had D help me out.  I told him to watch the kids while I timed myself.  Warp speed folks.  Warp speed.
POW.  Then I was overwhelmed with this sneaky thought, what if I had someone to follow my kids around and pick up their messes?  Oh, heavenly days. 

Ok, so, maybe what I really want isn't a nanny but a human-picker-upper.  That's sounds better.  I love my babies, but I need more hours in my day.  Less cleaning and more stitching.

This is me.  being completely honest.  Over and out.

Those friends

Feeling a little nostalgic today.

I think that "true" friends are very much taken for granted.  We all think we have them, but soon discover not everyone is "true" friend material.  Boo.  But let me tell you now, finding that one friend, or two, who will ride out any situation with you is one of the best feelings in the world.  I'm really counting my blessings today for the people in my life who know how to keep your confidence, send you a little pick-me-up note, push you through your weak moments, tell you like it is -- with love, know who you are and what you're made of...

So many people, I've found, have a limit on their friendship.  Eventually, they decide to give up and choose to see the negative or choose to believe a misguided word.  How many times have these unfortunate situations ruined a beautiful budding relationship?  *sigh*  My Sunday school teacher once shared that "a man is lucky to have five true friends in his life".  How hard that was for me to see while I was young.  I mean, shoot, I had friends for a dime a dozen.  We played Barbies, house, cowboys and Indians.  They were my friends, right?  Only good friends let you wear their clothes or give you a fresh pair of underwear when you forgot to bring yours to the sleepover...

Time tells and reveals so much about the character of mankind.  So fickle and flighty.  So conditional and critical.  Good luck finding a brother who will stand by you through the storm. 

Today, I am thankful for the few people I have in my life who have never questioned my character or integrity.  They know me in such a deep way.  They accept my faults and work with me.  They have a smile, a nudge or a whisper to keep me focused.  They see the good in me.  They see the good.  Shame, shame on those who enjoy finding the faults of their brother.  Shame.  Don't tear down.  Lift up your brother in his weakened state, for if you don't, you are no better than he in his folly...

Extend a hand.

Thank you to all of my childhood friends and thank you to those who came into my life in my early twenties.  You are the people who have helped me to become who I am today.

Of Food and Love: This Weekend: Give Up

Of Food and Love: This Weekend: Give Up: "Give up on being critical of your neighbor -- it ruins beautiful things like relationships. Give up on being selfish -- sharing is so much ..."

The Elixir of Life

I remember reading The Trumpeter of Krakow, when I was in high school.  It was a fabulous book and I highly recommend it to anyone who loves reading good literature.  That's where I learned the term "elixir of life".  It's great phrase and very applicable to most of life's problems involving stupidity.

"But," persisted the student, "you seek the elixir of life, do you not?"

"No," answered the alchemist, "although in regard to it I admit that I have much curiosity.  If it is true that all things are subject to change, then one might change from old to young as well as from young to old if one could find the laws to reverse the process of life.  And as to this I do not doubt that the restorer of youth can be found.  Yet I am not interested as are those who have lived vain lives and hope to do better if life may be relived."

Ah, yes, some people seek this illusive elixir and when they cannot find it, their immaturity takes over.  The proverbial cupboards fly open, the mixing and stirring begin to create this "thing" that will give them answers.  How dumb.  I'm sorry, but really.  Why don't you just let life happen?  Quit trying to direct it here and there and everywhere.  That is not to say, "do not have a plan".  HAVE a plan, but for crying out loud, leave certain things alone.  There are spaces in our lives that must not be touched by our meddling eager hands. 

And, there are spaces we must not go, for if we do, it will ruin a good thing.  *sigh*  Yeah, I'm pretty happy right about now for the extra layer of skin I've grown since living here.  Seems like there will never be enough hurt or pain in the world until finally it just all stops.  Something happens in the universe, a star blinks for the last time and then, it's time, time for all the *bad* in the world to go away.

Yet again, someone has thrown open their cupboard in search of the "elixir" and instead of waiting for it they made up their own version...wrong mixture my friend...wrong mixture, and you just ruined a good thing.

Let's all hold on just a little longer until the time is right, ok?  No use messing up the bigger picture for your stunted version of reality.

Mommy Hobbies: Mommy Hobbies on Etsy!

Mommy Hobbies: Mommy Hobbies on Etsy!: "Yes, I finally did it. Set my fear on the back burner and went for it. I now have an etsy shop showcasing my cute little Punk Monkeys. If..."

I fake dumb

Good lord, what an admission and I really hope my husband doesn't read this.  But, please, ladies, don't tell me you don't do this...

I know how to do a lot of things and then there are things that I just *don't want to do*.  For instance, the bbq.  It isn't rocket science, and I know I can do it, but I just can't help think that my luck would have it for my brows to be singed off, leaving me with a uni-brow-like stain and an unfortunate look about me.  Not going to risk it.  So, I feign stupidity leaving that job to D.

Pulling apart the vacuum to extract all the hair, string and shoe laces from the beater bar.  Yes, I can do it, but I don't want to.  Once again, I am almost positive it's in the book of fate that as my fingers are in there digging around, my little two year old will manage to plug it in and turn it on.  Chop-chop.  My fingers will be eaten and that "unfortunate look about me" image becomes a reality.

Using the riding lawn mower to wack down two acres worth of grass on our property.  Not going to do it.  It doesn't look like fun and who wants to drive in circles anyway?  As a kid I used to love mowing the lawn.  I enjoyed making straight lines in the grass...uhm, but, for some reason the riding lawn mower does not woo me.  And it won't ever.  My hair, and those low branches just won't mix and I won't be pulling an Absalom in my own front yard.

And I can't say that I jump at the chance to put together any type of furniture.  Those instructions are intimidating... just waiting to be wadded up and tossed clear across the room in frustration.  *sigh*  I'm starting to sound helpless, aren't I?  But loading up a poorly constructed book case is a recipe for crash-bang-boom in the middle of the night and a young couple dead in their bed from fright.

I'm sure that there is an ego-boosting factor in this for my husband.  He's just so good at all of these things.  Why mess a good thing up, right?

*Honey, please, don't read this and catch on to my sneaky "fake stupid/dumb" ways... just keep doing all those things, cuz I love it.*

Oh, and to you, who is reading this, snickering...yes, don't lie, you know you do it too.

Atmospheric Pressure

How does your house feel?  What vibes roll up and down the floors and under the area rugs?  What sounds float through the air?  Good, bad?  Lazy, hard working?  Screams of anger, laughter?  Ahh, how the *feel* of our home can affect our mind and the receptiveness to correction or instruction or anything productive, for that matter. 
Our children are used to seeing me clean.  It's sort of like, to be expected.  Cylas knows that if he makes a mess that he needs to clean it up, or he'll inform me that a mess was made and SOMEbody needs to clean it up.  How many times have I found Roma with my spray bottle and a rag in hand scrubbing at the floors and walls.  Too many.  But it's ok!  I take her hand and help her scrub.  I'll squirt the rag, hand it to her and we work together.  The *feel* in our house is busy, happy and peaceful. 
The day starts with me clinking around in the kitchen making breakfast, waiting for my babies to get up.  After breakfast, we clean up and rest for a bit.  Lately, we've been doing school with Cylas.  He loves it. 
Throughout the day we busy ourselves with little projects and lots of "us" time.  Me and the babies.  Them around my ankles as I clean up the kitchen or chop veggies for dinner.  My toes being stepped on as they try to help me make our bed or fold the laundry. 
We're a little unit.  We move around the house like a Ruumba.  It's funny. 
All this "working together", though, makes for a good, wholesome atmosphere that they will hopefully try to recreate when they are on their own.  They both have their own preferences, cleaning and general. 

Roma: her hands MUST be clean at all times, no exceptions and she must have at least two layers of clothing on ALWAYS including a puffy skirt, at times she will insist on vacuuming.  

Cylas:  He has to be wearing something Spiderman-ish(underwear, shirt, mask, sandals, watch...the list is ENDless).  His room must be clean (this desire varies and is stronger at other times), he goes through phases where he will do the dishes without being asked(this is a VERY messy undertaking), he enjoys vacuuming his room.  Oh, and he likes to prepare fresh snacks for when we run our errands: fresh fruit, cold water and possibly some Sun Chips.

To be fair, I should say that we're constantly picking up.  My house is by no means spotless.  It is clean, but a stray web can be found here and there and pockets of dust I missed.  Hah, yeaaah, I would be lying if I presented my house as being perfectly clean.  Sometimes I drive myself a little nuts with all the cleaning and picking up and I take a day off.  And since it's summer, I take a day off and sit by the pool.  We pack a picnic, grab our suits and chill.  I like those days.  And I like the atmosphere, too.

Gossip

The beauty of gossip is this:  it will either make you or break you.  Gossip, is definitely here for a reason.  Oh, the pain it causes as it rips through your soul and attacks your character.  Now, depending on where the "I know who I am" spot lies, this assault will either reassure you that you ARE who you are, or it will cause confusion. 
And I still have yet to understand WHY people want to gossip.  What good does it do?  None.  What harm does it bring?  Much.  Plus, it makes the mouth-flapper look bad in the end and wasn't the whole point of those slanderous words to make themselves look better?  Ah, yes, that sneaky little thing called KAARRRMMAaa.  Please, don't let yourself be invited over to her tea party.  You might end up with a little taste of your own medicine and MAN, sugar does NOT help it go down.  Not saying I've never gossiped...I tried it when I was younger once and didn't like it.
Since I waved goodbye to my fuzzy-haired teenage years, and said hello to my hi-I'm-the-young-looking-mom-of-two-children years...and unfortunately been the recipient of some major gossip, I've sworn it out of my life forever.  What use is it to me??  So far, all it has done is hurt, frustrated, and wound.

Now, for the beauty of gossip.  Beside all of the horrible things it has done, I've noticed something spectacular.  Through the rips in my flesh and the wounds in my character, I've seen the twinkle of life peeping out at me.   I'm still here.  I didn't curl up and die.  Thank goodness it only made me stronger.  What the gossip tried to use for evil against me only proved that I was, indeed, the opposite.  No gossiping back.  No flappy-lip syndrome.  Not going to use evil to fight evil.  Just patience...patience and the consistancy of being who I really am.

Me.

And if they don't like it...well, sorry folks, but no amount of flappy-lip will make me crumble to the level of gossipy nastiness, too.  Nope.  Nuh-uh.  So flap on, flippy-floppy-lip-lappers.  

Mommy Hobbies: Running: Catch the skirt

Mommy Hobbies: Running: Catch the skirt: "Ran a 5k yesterday. Felt like a million bucks. There were well over 500 racers participating. The biggest race I've run in, yet. I was s..."

The test

I spoke on the qualities of the Proverbs 31 woman a couple weeks back.  Yesterday, I was confronted with a situation and I totally forgot about all of those nuggets of wisdom.  But today during my morning prayer and bible reading my lesson came floating back to the surface.  Haunting me a little.  Mentally, I took a second to rewind over yesterday's catastrophe and I grimaced.  Shucks.  I didn't pass the "perfect Proverbs woman" test, but neither did I fail completely.  So much bubbled behind my lips during the confrontation, but I didn't let it out.  There were a few jabs and snarky comments...kept at a minimum but there, nonetheless.  Being a human is so unforgiving.  We automatically defend ourselves against attacks, but not always wisely. 

As much as I wanted to call names and spit a little something held me back.  I've always held strong to this quote, "There is wisdom in discretion."  And this morning a verse popped up in my reading.

"Discretion shall preserve thee, understanding shall keep thee:"

Prov 2:11

Perfect.  Just another reminder that not all arguments are worth continuing or contributing to.  There are some battles I'm not meant to fight.  God is.  No matter what this person thinks of me, God is the ultimate definer.  My life on this earth has been witnessed by many people, they've seen me grow, struggle, learn, fail...all of it.  They have shown me love and I wouldn't be the person I am today without them. 
So, for yesterday's battle I say that it was another test to who I am in Christ.  Not perfect.  Still learning.  Clinging to His wisdom yearning after his paths.  This is worth more to me than silly, foolish words exchanged and a well placed jab at someone's expense.   Not going to lie, it felt good to get my two cents in every once-in-a-word, but was it worth it? 

No

That feeling

I really, really hate guilt.  It is so unforgiving and takes a lot out of you...especially when you shouldn't feel guilty -- oh, and being ashamed is right up there with guilt.  How did those feelings get so twisted and manage to attach themselves to parts of our lives without a REAL cause?
The only time one should feel guilt or shame is when they have done something wrong.  How many of us feel guilty about things in our lives and can't really explain why?  There is just an unexplainable heaviness about situations and a lot of doubt in the belief system you've created for yourself.
Thinking about all the time I've wasted feeling this way makes me mad!  It means that I need to take a deeper look inside and shore up my belief in myself. 
If I know something is right, then I need to stick by it and not waver for someone else and their very strong opinion.  It's THEIR opinion (unless there is irrefutable proof they are right) I can't get caught in their mental web.  It's confusing and a complete waste of time...

Leave me alone guilt and shame, there is no room for you here!

Just something that has been on my mind.

Clueless

I have no idea what I'm doing.  Honestly.  I came to that conclusion tonight as I was helping my precious baby girl do her hair.  She was freshly bathed, slathered down with lotion and standing there with her hands in her hair desperately trying gather it up for a pony tail.  She is two.
I smiled and felt a little extra beat in my chest.  That was my love meter going haywire. 
But then I stopped smiling because I felt a little overwhelmed with the knowledge that I have no idea what I'm doing.  I'm just a young woman trying to overcome my own problems while trying to raise another young woman.  So confusing. 
I go through these moments sometimes where I feel the task of good parenting is just too great for me to bear. 
But it's not, is it?  Not if I'm seeking in the right places for guidance and counsel.  Biblical, Godly counsel.  So much to remember, so much to impart.  It's not easy being determined to be the best parent you can be -- even if you have no clue what you're doing.

Grabbing my life by the list

When I was in college, my life revolved around lists.  It had to.  I had a lot of classes, projects, reading assignments and study sessions not to mention I was the mom of a very spunky little boy at the time.  Between school, the house duties, working on the weekends, picking up Cy from the sitter's and being a wife, my mind was in a constant whirlwind. 

You know those nifty little notebooks at Target?  I lived out of those.  Lived.  I would go through at least one little booklet every quarter and a half.  Then, I graduated and Facebook and my lists didn't mean anything anymore.  (Facebook was only a mild form of communicating with my classmates to swap study times and homework info NOT a way to keep in daily contact)

Why did I stop making lists??  Uhg.  I really need them to help keep me focused.  Yesterday I finally broke down and made a list.  It felt fabulous.  Every item, but one, was completed and it was such a rewarding feeling.  I'm doing it again today...making a list.  Must resurrect the habit.

Rite of passage

It's Mother's Day.  (was I supposed to capitalize that?)

I didn't get flowers, or a gift, or a card or have the troops rallied around me to shower me with kisses and praises.   I did however, get eggs benedict, made by the most fabulous husband in the world.  The kitchen and all its dirtiness was taken care of by that same fabulous husband and then we went to church.  

My mother's day actually started yesterday when we went on a impromptu trip to the next town over, then forgot the one reason why we went (we were supposed to exchange an item for his mother but left it at the house. hah).  We decided to stop and eat somewhere since it was close to dinner time.  Best decision ever.  D scanned through his phone and found a place that served gyros.  Some of our all time favorite food.  But it was closed.  Lucky for us, the town was small and all of the restaurants were on the same strip.  Even more lucky for us there was a little town fair in progress so we ambled through.  Cute.

Being the mother of these two little rascals has put me through the ringer.   Both of my children have distinctive personalities that try me in different ways.  I'm still alive.  My rite of passage was given and passed.  My children make me better.  I love them unconditionally.  Truly I do.  But I digress.

Back to the tiny little town: The food.  This is where the fun and memories started.  It made me anxious for my children to grow older so I could see how we would all interact.  It was just funny!  Poor D was suffering miserably from allergies so our whole meal was punctuated with his sneezes and "excuse me"'s from the table as he ran to blow his nose.  Thank God he didn't stuff tissue up his nose...but I know he was close to it.  

The kids were in their regular form, a little cagey and disappearing at odd moments.  More than once that evening I found Roma down by my feet and Cylas peering over the booth to spy on the other patrons.  

Everything was funny to us.  But the ultimate was when D asked for a box to take our food.  And then told the busboy that it was for our chickens.  I was mortified.  Really?  The kid just stared at us hoping we were joking then smirked.   When he left, we both bust out laughing.

Danville will never be the same.  

The Kelbas came and left their silly little mark in the minds of those surrounding them that evening.  I'm just glad I'm a Kelba.

Conscious Decisions

Irritated. 
It's no secret that I have had a hard time adjusting to living here...but I'd like to think that I'm living a pretty motivated lifestyle, to say the least.  Since we moved here, a little over three years ago, I have checked off more than half of my "I am going to do this before we leave" list.  That's a lot to be proud of.  But it seems like people hang on to the fact that I don't care to live here.  There is a multitude of reasons I could give as to why, but that is neither here nor there.  Frankly, I just want people to STOP caring about my preference and enjoy being my friend instead.  

There was a conscious decision made, on my part, to support my husband in this move out here so he could get an education.  I know this.  Please don't act like I'm the ONLY person on planet earth who has made a decision and had to find a way to live around the "uncomfortable" parts.  I've not been a complete saint and kept my grumblings to myself, but I eventually learned to turn my frustration into motivation.  Thank God, because I was driving myself nuts!

Bottom line, I am VERY thankful we moved here because I have learned so much about myself, good bad and the ugly :/ , grown stronger through trials, gained irreplaceable knowledge and created friendships with precious people.

Just asking people to forgive the fact that I'm a die-hard for California.  If you dare to ask, I will tell you where my heart is...but don't hold it against me.

My competition

I've decided that I'm officially, seriously, nervous about Cylas going to school.  Watching other people's children and their behaviors makes my nerves jump.  A lot of them have horrible habits that are only fueled by our society. 

My job is to put as much as I can into my boy before he leaves my four walls to sit next to children who might have a bad home life, teachers who are hell-bent on stuffing non-truths and sick ideologies into his innocent head.  

They are my competition.  They will have my kids for hours and hours at a time.  The "real-world" pulls no punches, they cock back and let it fly.  So that means I have to too.  My philosophy has never been to use God a a batter ram, but to show my child all of the wonderful things in God.  

If Cy is mean to his sister I don't ever say, "God doesn't like that."  I don't want him to fear God, well, not like that at least.  But I want him to understand His goodness.  

I explain God a lot differently than most.  Here is a perfect instance:  some days we talk about sharing with others, how it "makes your heart feel good" and how when "you do good, others want to do good, too."  It's very simple.
God isn't my go-to beating stick, he is the icing on the cake.  And that's what I want Cylas to see.  God isn't this big bad, bearded creature dude sitting up there with lightening bolts, no, he is our compass, the little censor light that blinks on and off to tell us when we're not doing the right thing.  And if I can equip my kid with this knowledge, he will be just fine.  His "God light" will shine brightly and guide him through the day and each situation.  Then, he'll come home and we'll discuss any thing that troubled him.  

I admit, my approach to God and parenting may be a little different than most, but I've seen what God becomes if he is presented in a certain form.  

People can yell and shout at me, but I really don't care.  God is the ONLY one who can protect my child from what this world is offering.