Dec 20, 2011

Nothing like an episode of Hoarders to inspire me to declutter

Bobby came home from Afghanistan for Christmas and New Years on Thursday, so to welcome him back I am cooking Thanksgiving dinner, for the second time. While the turkey was thawing, I needed to do a massive de-clutter on my kitchen in order to maximize my working space for a large meal, for a large family, in a small space. A show that always gets me inspired to clean is Hoarders, on A&E. I really admire the people behind the scenes though. The people who have to clean up the messiest of the messes with shovels, or lift heavy furniture onto trucks. The men and women from 1-800-GOT-JUNK.

When we moved from Colorado to Washington, we contacted them prior to moving for a quote, and I was very impressed with their professionalism and rates, but in the end we just did not have time to bring in a team to help us (5 days to make a 1,500 mile move with a family of 6 plus 5 pets will do that to you). However, now I know what we did wrong, and you bet next time we move we will be making a ton of changes. What I really appreciate about 1-800-GOT-JUNK is they don't just take your unwanted appliances, garbage, and electronic equipment to the landfill, but instead donate anything usable to local charities, and their list of products they recycle is quite impressive. That was one of the reasons why we wanted to work with them instead of just renting a dumpster like a lot of people do before they move.

In the end, we ended up making about 10 trips to Goodwill, 4 trips to the dump, and had a bunch more picked up by appliance salvage companies. It was far from ideal, but it worked with our schedule. After my large cleaning spree yesterday, I may just be making that phone call again soon.

Dec 15, 2011

A poem, for my God

I asked God for a daughter. And he gave me a son.
And I praised Him. And I loved my boy.

I asked God for a daughter. And he gave me a son.
He grew in my heart, and not in my womb.
And I praised Him. And I loved my boy.

I asked God for a baby. And he made me wait.
I loved on my sons. And I praised Him.
I accepted His plan, for just two sons, and he filled my womb.

I asked God for a daughter. And he gave me a son.
And I cried. But I praised him. And I loved my boy.

I asked God for a baby. And he made me wait.
I loved on my sons. And I praised Him.
I accepted His plan, for just three sons, and he filled my womb.

I asked God to give me whatever he wanted, I just wanted him/her healthy.
And he gave me a daughter. And I praised Him.
He made her three times as girly. Three times as sassy. Three times as sweet.
And I praised him. I loved my girl. He completed my family.

He filled my womb, which came as a shock. But I praised him.
And I said "PLEASE GOD, MAKE HIM A SON!"
And he did. For God does not give you more than you can handle.

:)

Dec 13, 2011

What might have been

A conversation with a friend today took me down memory lane. I am seriously astounded at the glimpse I saw of our alternate life. If he had not been injured, Bobby would probably have made his E-7 with 14 years in. He would be on his 5th or 6th trip overseas. We probably would not have had our 4th and 5th children, since the reproduction help I needed with Sophia would not have been affordable out of pocket (our old insurance covered it). We may not have even had a 3rd! We were struggling in our relationship and it was the fear that I could lose him that melted the ice in my heart, and if we had pulled through and still had Matthew, he would have missed Matthew's birth by just a few weeks. We probably would have been still struggling with debt, who knows where we would be living. And you know, it just goes to show, HOW much we are given when we face hardships and struggles. Seven to eight years ago was the darkest time in my life. I was struggling with my marriage, with my role as a step-mom, with myself. When Bobby was injured, it was a wakeup call how precious life is, how much I loved my husband, my life, my children. I realized there was no shame in being a mother as a career and how much I truly needed to be in my kids' life, and how important it was for them to have two parents who love them, and grow up in a happy home.

I hate that my husband deals with chronic pain. I would take that burden from him in a heartbeat if I could, and it would STILL be worth every single struggle. I once saw an interview with a young Native American teenager who said he would chose the muddy road over easy street, because only the man who struggled and built his muscles on the muddy road emerges a warrior.