Undone.

I am a starter.

A big ideas girl.

The finishing of things?  Not so much.

I need an assistant that can be my finisher.  My details person.  I could probably pay them in smiles and hugs and snarky asides when people are annoying them.  I’d be an awesome boss.

I have a million things undone right now and it’s making me nuts. 

What is a girl to do?  Start a NEW project which involves tearing apart the living room and painting everything.  Woodwork.  Fireplace brick.  Walls.  Ceiling.  Madness?  Probably.  Just wait until you see it.

That bed up there all pretty and made?  Don’t let it fool you.  It’s the only thing put together in the room.  Just at the foot of the bed is two baskets of laundry that needs put away, a box of books that Tate has strewn everywhere, and a dresser piled high with stuff.  That print?  It’s the only thing currently hung.  Did I mention the bedroom remodel was two years ago?  But this spot is a happy place.  It makes me smile.

It’s a start.   Now who wants to be my finisher?

This Kid.

Yesterday, he told me that I was the best Mama. He was buttering me up because he wants to buy his lunch. Don’t you go thinking that it’s all sunshine and roses over here. I called him Eddie Haskell and yes, of course, I let him buy his lunch. I’ll take those best Mama comments any way I can get them.

He is a total freak of nature and I can’t get him to be serious for anything.

He tries my patience on a daily basis. Always, always, always pushing. Testing. Using logic to try to get the outcome he’s looking for.

The tooth fairy stopped at our house and brought five gold dollar coins. The rest of his teeth are only valued at one dollar each, the first is special. She made this very clear in the note she left and told him not to eat too much candy.

He wears a tie at least once a week with his uniform, not one other boy in his class does.  OK, it’s because he wants to be like the FBI agent on White Collar. 

He sings things like Call Me Maybe and makes up words to songs that he only knows the melody to. Tate dances along and he sings louder. I put on Jay-Z or Justin Timberlake {yes, that is my ridiculous music of choice} and he dances his ass off with me in the kitchen.

He makes us laugh when we should be stern.

Weeks of us showing him how to tie his shoes and him watching, trying it and getting frustrated. Then, one day, he sits down all on his own and just does it. He just says, “I tied my shoe,” like it was no big deal as I sit there mouth agape.

This age is really, really cool. And maddening. And frustrating. He’s becoming his own person, this kid.

  

 

Roo.

Today, my sister Rachael is moving half way across the world.

To Palestine.

I’ve  been holding off writing about this because well, it isn’t really mine to tell.

Not going to lie, it has been hard. For everyone. For her mom. My dad.  Her dad. Our siblings. For Rach especially. It’s not a decision that she thought she would be making and not one she took lightly by any means. Moving to another country is difficult.  When it isn’t a westernized culture, you don’t speak the language, and it’s an occupied territory, it’s even harder.  She is fearless, that sister of mine.  She is leaping with both feet, smile on her face, knowing she will be caught on the other end. 

I, on the other hand? Did the ugly cry.

Oh yes, yes, she’ll be back for visits.  {OFTEN, I hope.} It just won’t be the same without her, she is irreplaceable.

She is loved, that Roo of ours. SO loved.

 

Friday Notes.

If you are married, thinking about it, or just committed, you should read this.     

Dear Davester, Does your suit fit properly?

Want to know what to do with all those orchard picking spoils?  Apple crumble.

An oldie, but a goodie.  Everyone should start their day like this:

And do you guys watch Scandal?  We were late to the party, we started watching it over the summer, but we are HOOKED. 

Hope you have a great weekend!

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