For the Love of Ponytails...

I have rekindled my fondness for the ponytail. 

High Pony...

For the past several years I opted for the bob.  I love the bob.  I miss the bob.  But sometimes, you just have to do something different because otherwise people get bored looking at you.  

Should I say that?  Maybe not.  Oh well.  It's true.  If you've had the same hair cut for more than a few years...people are tired of it.  Try something new.  Be fun.


So, in an effort to not bore everyone, including myself, I decided to grow it out.  And really, is there anything more fun than growing it out and then cutting it short?  I think not.  Super fun.


I did have an original point at the beginning of this post...oh yeah...ponytails.

I'm finding that they are WAY cooler in the summertime than my beloved bob. Cooler as in temperature, in case I was confusing you.  




And ponytails are fun...except when they're not.  But mostly fun...especially on this one:

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Julie is Coming Back!

So, I forgot to tell you some big news.  Imagine that.


If you've been around awhile, you might recall that on August 1, 2009 our foreign exchange student from Norway arrived:  Julie.

The same month she arrived, we managed to conceive Lucy.  Not exactly the timing I was going for.  A teenage daughter was new territory for me...and so was a baby one.


I spent much of that year bewildered at God's timing.  I knew I couldn't see the big picture...yet that didn't stop me from complaining about how weird His timing was.  Incessant bewildered complaining about weirdness is not flattering. Trust me.


I still don't have the big picture.  I'm not meant to.  But I have more pieces of the puzzle, and when I look back on events from then until now I can smile at His way of weaving life together.  

Julie and I that November...I'm holding her stomach because her is flat and mine was not :)

Looking back, I can see Julie and I at the college visit we went to at a near by university.  We wandered around that campus that November day, joking about how she could come back here and go to college and of course meet and eventually marry the man of her dreams...her American dreams. ;)   We sat through the financial aid meeting, the question and answer time...ate in the dining hall (which made me want to enroll there and live in the dorms because the food was AMAZING...of course I was preggo so food itself was amazing.)


But I left that university that day knowing Julie would not be back here.  The idea was ludicrous.  College in Norway is practically totally paid for by their government.  And why would she come back to Iowa?  I mean really, have you seen Norway?!?  And if she was to come back to America for college, she'd certainly go somewhere new and exciting.


Looking back I see myself...overwhelmed.  One husband, three boys, one teenage daughter, one on the way, a dog, a ministry, and three bedrooms and one bathroom.  I went into survival mode, but survival mode doesn't often let you enjoy life fully...the way God intends.  


In early June of 2010, I remember standing in the airport with three boys and a 5 week old baby...saying goodbye to Julie.  She had to go through security and then sit on the other side of a window-wall.  We both sobbed.  And sobbed.  And sobbed some more.  I had such a feeling of wanting a do-over.  You know that feeling?  That feeling of knowing if you just could do it again, you'd be so much better at it.  


Late this winter, I got an email from Julie, sharing about how she was seeking out where God was leading her after she graduated from school in Norway.  She'd looked into all sorts of exciting adventures, but nothing felt quite right.  Meanwhile, God was lining up everything to fall into place for her return to Iowa.  


God does such weird things in such a great way, doesn't He?


Now...today...I am fully adjusted to the four-kid thing.  My 3 bedroom, one bath house will soon be turning into a 5 bedroom 2 1/2 bath house...and my teenage daughter is returning.  And this time, I get to be her friend...well a mom-friend anyway.  She's in charge of herself this time.  No curfews, no telling her who she can't date (although I'm sure to have an opinion ;) it's different this time...and I'm excited about that.  That year of craziness had a purpose...a purpose far bigger than me.



One month from today we will pick her up from the airport.  What an adventure.  I'm thankful for God's version of do-overs.








*and if you're new, and would like to read more about the time when Julie was here, you can click on the link titled "hosting" under "Stuff I write about"*

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Soaking it In...

There are many things I look forward to introducing Lucy to...the list is long.

• Sunglasses should be at least 1/2 the size of your face:  Check

She's a quick study.

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Not Irish...

Monday Ben and I marked our 13 year wedding anniversary.  I tossed around several sentimental ideas for blog posts...but who am I kidding, I'm just not very sentimental.  Or gushy. I love him, I think he's the best, and it's been a crazy-fast 13 years of goodness.  It works for us.


Monday morning (anniversary day) I got a call from Ben while I was watching Jake at swim lessons (or as Jake calls them:  Pool Lessons) that the cement guys had shown up.  We both said to each other, "HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!"  Seriously, it made our day.  


That's how we roll.

Later that day, Ben was out chatting with the cement guys, and came in to tell me that it sounded like the foreman guy had an accent...it's no secret I'm totally enamored with accents.


Remember Julie?  And while I'm sidetracked for a moment, did I tell you all that Julie is coming back from Norway to Iowa on August 1st to go to college near by me?  Seriously, have I mentioned this, because I can't remember...


Back to the other story:  So yesterday Ben was home on break and went out to talk to the cement guys again and I tagged along (because it would be weird for me to go chat it up all on my own, after all) so I could listen to his accent.


While him and Ben were discussing whether or not the old wall to the basement may or may not cave in, I couldn't help but blurt out, "Where are you from originally?!?"


I, in all my infinite knowledge of accents, was guessing it sounded Irish.


He's from Yugoslavia.  


And he has quite the story of how he arrived in America...and it made me think (again) how everyone has a story.  I just wish mine had a cute accent to go with it. ;)


That's my story.

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Only Boring People...

Source: piccsy.com via Sarah on Pinterest

I've said this to my children approximately one hundred bajillionity times so far today.


If only they thought I was as clever as I think know I am.


I found this on pinterest.  Of course I did.

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Hooked

Last week a blog friend turned facebook friend introduced me to Pinterest.


Oh. My. Word.


I can't even come up with words to describe how much I love love LOVE this sight.  I am hooked.  


Many of you are probably familiar with it already...I'm the last to know about cool stuff sometimes. :) But, in case you are like me...you should go check it out.


It's visual organization to the extreme...and I love it.  


And it's simple.  WAY simple.  


Do you love it?!?

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Two Dollars

It's Friday.


{Deep inhale...deep exhale}


I'm so glad.  I love you, Friday.


Anyways...I do have a point to this post.  Sorta.  Last week, at the crack of dawn, I was lamenting to my running buddies about how sick I am of my summer tank tops being so low-cut.  I rarely wear tank tops alone...unless it's 100 degrees out (because my triceps are, well...missing), but I do wear them under low cut t-shirts and dresses in hopes of maintaining some sense of modesty.  I am not a fan of the cleavage.


(I  just had to actually click on spell checker for "options" on how to spell cleavage because I tried several versions that didn't work...see, not a fan ;)


So I came up with a genius plan.  At least it seemed genius at 6 am.  My plan was to shorten the straps of my tank tops, just tack them a little with the sewing machine.  Easy peasy.  Turns out, not. so. easy.  The material on tanks is streeeetchy, and doesn't stay together when trying to cram it under the sewing machine pedal thingy.  I thoroughly ruined about 3, and the other 3 look terrible, but I decided to wear them anyway.


But here's the good part.  Wednesday I ran into the local CVS (and by local, I mean 10 miles away) to get some {insert item I can't remember} and passed the seasonal stuff only to find THESE:

The neckline is PERFECT!  When I look down while carrying around a one-year old, I see no boobs.  Yipee!  Even better, they're $2 a piece.  TWO.  Yeah baby.


They do run a little small...which then made me think maybe they're made for a 10 year old...but I don't care, I'm totally wearing them.


Hello, my name is Sarah, and I buy tank tops at CVS.  


Good times.


Enjoy your weekend lovely blog friends...I'm heading to IKEA with some friends...perfection.

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