Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can't Lose

I started this post over a month ago. I am sad to say it is still just as relevant today as it was then. Have y'all ever seen Friday Night Lights?  The TV series, not the movie.  I stumbled on it on Netflix a year or so ago and binge watched my way through it.  And then I found the movie and watched it. I loved them both. One of the things that has stuck with me ever since I watched the first episode of the show was "Clear eyes, full hearts, can't lose".  It became a mantra that the Dillon Panthers shouted before they headed out onto the football field to play.

Victoria Macey - Dribbble

It also became a mantra I started applying to my life. I'm a firm believer that change comes from within. If I want the world to be a better place, then I need to start with me. Start by cleaning out my baggage, my preconceptions, my biases. View every person I meet knowing that they have their own struggles, their own beliefs, but they were fearfully and wonderfully made.

Fill my heart so full of love that when terrible things happen in the world, I act, and not just speak.  I fully believe in the power of prayer. But words without actions serves me, not others. It can be something as simple as a friend with a sick child, or as terrible as an attack.  Prayer can be my first step, but it should not be my last. Can I take the mother of the sick child a meal? Offer to babysit her other children so that she can get her child to the doctor? How can I help her? Can I give blood to help out when a tragedy happens? Donate supplies to the blood banks to help out the donors when they are far away?  How can I actively show love?

During the movie, Billy Bob Thornton, who plays Coach Gaines, gives a speech. In it he says: 

Can you live in that moment, as best you can, with clear eyes and love in your heart? With joy in your heart? If you can do that, gentlemen, then you're perfect

If we can live in this moment with clear eyes and love in our hearts, we're perfect.  Clear eyes, to see that our world view isn't the only one. To see that just because we haven't experienced something, doesn't mean it hasn't happened. It just means it hasn't happened to us.  Hearts so full of love for mankind that we would listen with open ears to others concerns and make them ours. That we would begin to try and find a way to heal our country together.

Chronosynchronicity

Perhaps those few of you who read this blog religiously realized that I recently changed the name of it. Thirty Minutes of Wonderful never really fit the blog, it was mostly an homage to a quote that I loved from a movie that I still love. Recently, while scrolling through a list of obscure words, I came across this one:

Chronosynchronicity: the presentation of all stages of a person's life in a single piece of art. 

I don't know that I would call a blog "art", but then if these exhibits count as art, why not this as well? At any rate that description spoke to me. When I started this blog it was mostly about my weight loss journey. Which is an ongoing struggle and the one thing most posted about here. But it was also about my family, my kids, my husband, and my extended family. When I began it my mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer, and my world was in a whirlwind. So much has happened and much of it has never been posted here because it is private, personal information. But I want this blog to continue to be a record, if you will, of all the stages of my life. And so I share another stage with you today.

Yep, that's an empty nest.

On May 30th, while hubby and I were on a camping trip my boys moved out. We knew it was coming, it wasn't unexpected. The camping trip had been planned months ago, the moving out only came within the last month. Both boys had recently found jobs about an hour drive from here. And they were tired of making the long trek to work and back daily. So they had begun to look for an apartment in the last couple of months and started seriously saving to move out.

They found the apartment just a few weeks before our trip and chose to move out that weekend because it was the easiest time for them. They would receive a month's free rent at their new place if they were in it before June 1. And it just worked for them. So when we left for our camping trip, we knew we would come home to an emptier house.

The Moody Crew back in the day.

As hubby and I lay in our bed our first night home we were each quiet, lost in our own thoughts. "Whatcha thinkin' bout?" I asked
"I guess I'm just a little down about the boys, I didn't think it would bother me this much."
We snuggled closer and held each other. It's strange when your kids move out. I have to continuously remind myself that they aren't dead, they've just moved out. They aren't gone, they're just... gone.

I remember arguing with my boys so much when they were home over silly, stupid little things. I miss arguing with them. Don't get me wrong now, I don't want them to stay home forever. I want my kids to move out and start their own lives. I want them to be their own person, making their own decisions. It's just... different. For as long as I can remember I've been a mom. My job has been caring for my kids, and I've slowly been weaning myself off of that while they were here. But it's not just being a mom that I miss. It's the company, the conversations, I even miss the eye rolling and the complaining.

But along with missing them and wishing they were still here is yet another feeling, an anticipation for the new life that is to come. A curious spirit, a wondering. What's next? What will this next chapter of our lives be like? The only thing that I can do now is hope and pray that I taught my children as well as I could. I made mistakes, show me a parent who hasn't. But the one thing my children know is that I love them. I have loved them with all that I am for all of their lives. And I will always love them and be here for them no matter what. So as we all begin this next exciting and terrifying journey, we'll do it together, and separate, and we'll do it with hearts full of love. 

Moving on?

Mama has been gone 1 year, 3 months. That's 10,969 hours; 658,170 minutes; 39,490,200 seconds.  And still I miss her so bad at times that I will spend an entire week trying my best not to cry.  I wonder sometimes if I went to the doctor and told them how I feel if they wouldn't diagnose me as depressed and try to give me a pill to fix it.

Losing mama was the most traumatic thing I have been through thus far in my life. She wasn't just a parent to me, she was my friend. She was the first person I would call when ever I had a problem. And the first one I would call when I had some new and exciting news to share. She encouraged me, listened to me, and prayed with me, and I miss her terribly.

I confess that in the past I've been just as guilty of thinking someone who is grieving should "get over it" already. Your job will usually give you three days. You plan the memorial service, cry, and greet people you haven't seen in years, if ever. And then you're supposed to suck it up and move on. But loosing someone isn't that easy.

The night before my son had surgery on his ankle I wanted so desperately to call her. For her to tell me everything would be fine. I've heard people speak about forgetting that someone is dead so they'll start to call and realize they aren't there. I can't forget. I never forget. Every day it's a refrain that plays in my mind. "She's gone, she's gone, she's gone"  I never accidentally pick up the phone to call her. I know I can't. But I so desperately want to.  So very very badly.

The one thing her loss has taught me is that it isn't fair of me to put a timeline on grief, whether mine or someone else's.  Every single person, every relationship, is different. Whether you grieved a few days and moved on or are still grieving multiple years later, that is your journey. And it's one that we all must take on our own time and in our own way. And I don't want to feel guilty about missing my mama any more. I don't want to feel like it is wrong of me to ache at her loss.  I'll mourn for her as long as I need to, until I can move on.

Parenting Lessons I Wish I Had Learned Sooner

My children are grown. There will be no more muddy hand prints on the front door. The time when they would rush up to me and hug me tight, just because, has left. They still hug me, but now it's when they're leaving.  And sometimes, when I think back over our years together, there are some lessons I wish I had learned sooner.

"They grow up so fast."  Every person who has ever had a child has said this.  You never get it till they're almost grown. Then you desperately try to grab those moments. By the time I realized it my children were teenagers, and felt like I was smothering them; I was.  The dishes can pile up, the house may be a wreck, there will be grass to mow and bills to pay, budgets to balance and money to stress over. You will never get these days back.  Let it all go, and go play with your children.

We cuss, smoke, drink, gossip, and call people names.  And we wonder where our children get it from. You can tell them all day long. They are watching you.  Who you are will become a big part of who they will be. Your actions speak louder than your words. Use their scrutiny to become a better person, and you will, in turn, teach your child to be one.

When I grew up you did what your parents said, unquestionably.  And so when my children were younger I had this same stance. You do what I say, when I say it, because I said to do it. If I told my child to sit on the couch, I wanted them to sit in the exact spot I told them to sit in. And sit, don't lie down.  So many ridiculous battles I fought. What difference did it make which spot they were in or if they were sitting or lying down? The simple fact that they did go to the couch was obedience. Living with me at times was like living with the Borg, resistance was futile.  And when it came to questioning me about anything, that was unacceptable.

I wish I had answered the questions, why? what? how? I wish I had taken the time to teach them to ask questions, to seek answers; to learn. I had tried harder to encourage their free spirit and strong wills, rather than stamp them into my cookie cutter molds.

In loving memory

I apologize for the delay in my post. We had another loss in the family and I've been dealing with that and the feelings it brought back to me. In memory of those I've lost in the last year and a half.

"Uncle" Pat - July 2012

Pat passed away a little over a year ago.  She was an amazing woman, and my sister-in-law.  When my children were little they couldn't keep Aunt and Uncle straight. So they called her "Uncle" Pat and her husband "Aunt".  The moniker stuck and from that point forward she was Uncle Pat to every kid around her. She was my husbands best friend and confidant and her loss for him was much like the loss of my mother was for me.  Their childhood was not ideal and they only really had each other to lean on.  Through trials and separations they remained close.  She helped hubby through the loss of their brother. His first and closest friend, the one he'd been through everything with. And then she came back into his life again shortly before the death of their father.  She was his rock, and mine too. She had a quick smile and an even faster wit. She doted on her grandson and kept us all laughing with her silly jokes.  And we miss her greatly.

Uncle Danny - September 2013

Maybe you recognize the lady in this picture. That is my Aunt and her husband Danny. I swear that woman amazes me with her strength. After losing my mother barely three months ago her husband died suddenly.  Uncle Danny had fought a long illness and one of my biggest regrets is that I didn't visit them more often.  I remember him much younger than this, with curly blond hair. They had bought my cousin a horse for something, her birthday maybe? And he was trying to "break" it. I can see him clear as day in my mind. On the back of that horse and it bucking wildly. In my memory I'm laughing at the sight. But I don't remember if I was actually laughing at the time or just terrified that he was going to get killed. He didn't, and he did tame the horse.   I remember us going to their house once because they had a pig we were going to slaughter. I remember bits of this, not an entire picture.  I remember seeing a bunch of grown men chase a pig around the yard because it had escaped. Or maybe it was in the pen. I'm really not sure. But it's a funny memory and still makes me smile. When I think of Uncle Danny that's how I'll remember him, wild and free. He always made me think he stepped out of some macho movie. He was Chuck Norris to me before I knew who Chuck Norris was.   I thought he could do anything.

Mama - June 2013

What can I say about mama that I haven't said already? I miss her so terribly bad. I look at pictures of her and I cry. Because I can't go sit and chat with her. I try not to think about it. My way of dealing with the entire situation is just to pretend it did not happen. And then there are those moments when I am forced to face the facts. And they are hard. I swallow the lump in my throat and force myself not to think. To not fall into this abyss that is looming at my feet. I know she is in a better place. I know that she is no longer in pain, and she was in so much pain. I know that she is no longer short of breath or struggling in any way. I want her here. I want her to be better here with me.

The one crappy part about life is that sooner or later you have to say goodbye to the people you love. Whether it be saying goodbye to a loved one who has gone on before you. Or maybe your time is looming and you're saying your final goodbyes.   The only thing that keeps me going is the knowledge that one day we'll meet again in heaven. By the grace of God and the forgiveness of Christ Jesus, one day...

Could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy; and you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields. ~ Khalil Gibran

And then there was one....

Flickr

On August 24th my Shaner will be moving out. He and a friend of his have found a place and he's ready to spread his wings. And again I am torn. My heart is aching and full of pride at the same time.  Having kids is such an amazing and heart wrenching journey.

When they first burst into your life screaming, peeing, never sleeping little monsters you're both amazed and horrified. You can't believe that this little human being lived inside of you for nine months. You take your little bundle home and settle in for a good rest because you're exhausted from the trial of giving birth. And then they cry. They cry when they're hungry, when they're sleepy. They cry when they want held, when they need changed. They cry over everything. And you're pretty sure you're going to go crazy because it's been two weeks since you brought this little angel/devil home and you're not sure if you're ever going to sleep again. But mixed in with these moments of insanity are also moments of intense joy. Like when you're feeding your baby and it wraps it's tiny hand around your pinky finger.  And you marvel at the tiny fingers, toes, eyes, ears, and mouth.  Or maybe the first time they smile at you and your heart feels like it's going to explode inside your chest. In a single year you'll see such a marvelous transformation. Sleeping through the night for the first time, holding up their head, rolling over, crawling, pulling up, walking, getting teeth, begining to verbalize. So much happens and it goes so quickly. And you look back at the end of that year and can't believe how far they've come.

Then they become a toddler and when they aren't trying to climb to the very top of your house you're sure they're trying to kill themselves. They'll stick their fingers into anything that is open, just because they can. Everything goes into the mouth and you're forever saying, "No," and "Stop that!"  And sometimes you forget that this rambunctious little being is the center of your world. Because you're tired and you're frustrated and you just want a break. And you sit down to cry and little hands touch your face and a tiny voice says, "Why you tryin' mama?" And you smile and say something silly to make them laugh. And you realize how much they've grown in such a short time.

Soon they're prepubescent, which is basically a fancy word for 13 going on 30.  They talk back, they're asserting their independence more. And you're ready to scream. You'll gladly go back to that toddler stage and pull them down off the top of the refrigerator or save them from hanging on to the shower head because at least then you ruled the world. At that point in time you were always right and never wrong. And tensions build. But you watch them become young men and women. You go to ball games and scream like a crazy woman. And though they blush and act like you're the most embarrassing person in the world, you know that secretly they love it. So you scream all the louder. You ride bikes with them, play board games. You take walks and talk about things you couldn't talk about before.

Then they become teenagers. And they can do things for themselves, and for you. And it's a wondrous and terrifying time again. Because having their help is awesome. But now more than ever they don't want to be treated like your child. They're "adults" and don't mind telling you. Often and loudly.   And you struggle for that perfect balance of letting them make their own mistakes and still being the parent that they need you to be whether they realize it or not. And you go on date nights. And they confide in you. And they tell you how much they love you.  And you cherish every moment because you know they'll be gone all too soon.

And then they are. And you have to trust that you did all that you could. That you raised them to the best of your ability with the help and grace of the good Lord. And you just have to believe that they'll be ok. And that's the hardest part. The letting go part. Because how do you just let go of someone that you have nurtured and cared for for 18 years or more. How do you set them loose in the world and trust that they'll be ok?  You pray. And you worry, and call, and stress. And they tell you to "chill out mama".

If you're going through hell, keep going - Winston Churchill

~ Standing in the middle of the grocery store
~ Waiting at a red light
~ Doing laundry

It hits me at the most random of times.  I can be fine for days. And then suddenly my chest is tight and my eyes are overflowing.  She's gone. My mama is gone.  And I know as a good Christian I should be happy. She's in heaven, she has her reward.  But I'm not happy. I want her here. Heaven is a fabulous place from all I read.  But it isn't here. I can't go hug her. I can't call her and ask for advice. I can't call her and tell her how my day went or about the things that are worrying me or bothering me.  I can't have dinner with her.  All I can do is remember her. And I miss her.   God I miss her so bad.  And I don't want her back the way she was right before she died. The pale, weak, tired woman who was doing her best just to keep going. I want the vibrant woman who was here just last year.  Just one year ago she was full of life. She wasn't tired or wore down. She wasn't sick.  She was fine.



It seems as if I spent the last nine months always going. Never really taking the time to just be in the moment.  I figured if I stayed busy and pretended this wasn't happening that it would just go away. And it didn't. But my mama did.  I wish so bad I had every single one of those moments back. If I could just go back to one of the many times she said "Sit down and stay a while Julie".  One of the many times I said I couldn't. I had so much to do. So much stuff that needed done. And it all could have waited. Someone else could have taken Amanda to class.  The chores would have waited. I could have asked for more help from my family. I should have insisted on it.  I could have had a cup of coffee with mama. I could have cooked dinner with her more. More than once I told mama I was sorry. I was trying. I just had so much to do. "It's ok, I understand" She always understood. And what I wouldn't give for those moments back.

You know you always hear that you should treasure your loved ones because one day they'll be gone and you will wish you'd had that time back.  It's so true. It's so unbelievably true. I always thought that was a beautiful sentiment. And I was so sure I was living that way. Till I lost my mom and realized how much time I wasted that I could have spent with her.

Go find your mama, daddy, child, husband, wife, or friend and hug them. Tell them all how much they mean to you. And spend every moment you can with them. Because the moments spent with them are the things you'll remember. And the moments spent in pursuit of the perfect life will be the ones you regret.

On loss and love....

On June 2, 2013 my mother went home to be with the Lord.  She fought cancer valiantly and left a hole in my heart and life that will never be filled.

Mama never had an easy life. But she also never complained. When we were little I remember her always being active. She never sat around. She was always cooking, cleaning, gardening, or playing with us.  She loved flowers and she had numerous flower beds that she would tinker around in while we would run around playing.  Once I decided to help her weed one of her flower beds. I was so sure I was helping her out. I went out and spent about 30 minutes pulling every single weed out of her flower garden. Then I went inside and grabbed her hand, dragging her outside to show her my handy work.   When we got out the front door she exclaimed "JULIE! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
"I pulled the weeds"
"You pulled the flowers!"  And she laughed.
That was always one of our fondest memories. We'd laugh about how I pulled all of the flowers out of her garden and left the weeds. I would tell her that the weeds looked prettier to me. And she'd remind me that she did thank me for trying to help.  And that's the way it was with mama.  Whenever life threw a curve ball at her she laughed and went on. I think it was her faith in Jesus that gave her such strength and inner peace.

Once she was diagnosed with cancer I'm sure she had bad days. I remember calling her one day and asking how she was doing. "I'm fine" She had been crying, but that was always her answer. She was always fine. Even when she wasn't.  And I would playfully tell her "Liar"  And we'd both laugh.  After she was diagnosed my siblings and I went to her house to have a meeting. Sort of an "Oh Lord, what do we do now?" thing.  And I asked her if there was anything that she wanted to do. Any "bucket list" type opportunities or activities that she wanted to get out of the way. "No, " she said, "I've done it all"   I couldn't fathom this at first. How could that be so?  She never lived in the fancy houses that I know she dreamed of. She never had a fancy car. We had talked about traveling the world together. We never got to do that.  But thinking back on it now, all mama ever wanted was time with her kids. And that was enough for her. That was enough to make her content.  As my kids begin to move out I can understand this sentiment.

One month and a week after mama passed away my beautiful baby girl moved out. She had graduated high school and wanted to move in with her boyfriend. She's 17 and I probably could have guilted her into staying home. I could have begged and pleaded, brought up the fact that I just lost mama. And she would have stayed.  But she would have been angry with me. And I don't think it would have made a difference in the long run. Sooner or later she was going to move out and begin her life on her own.  And probably sooner rather than later.  And it would have been just as hard then as it is now.

Yesterday (Wednesday, July 10) we loaded all of Amanda's boxes into my van and I drove her to her boyfriend's house. He lives about a 45 minute drive away and we planned to drop her off when I took my nephew to his therapy, which is about 10 minutes away from her boyfriends house.  I had a week to prepare myself for this, but a year wouldn't have been enough. When she took the last of her boxes into his house I broke down.  I tried really hard not to leave her crying but it was just impossible.

I spent the next couple of hours at therapy, driving, feeding animals, and just generally trying not to think about what had just happened. But when I finally got home and went in my house it was impossible not to think about. Therapy is every Wednesday and most days Amanda went with me.  After the hour ride there, home, and an hour sitting in the waiting room she was always full of energy. The first thing she would do when she came in was start up some music and start dancing in my living room. She'd pester me about working out with her. "You gonna work out with me today mama?" I had a litany of excuses. I was too tired, had too cook dinner, needed to clean house.  I wish I had danced with her more and made excuses less.

So when I came into my now empty house (my boys were both gone to friends for the night) it hit me full force. My baby was gone. She wasn't going to dance around my living room anymore.  She wasn't going to needle me into working out with her or unload the dishwasher while I started dinner. And so I cried.  Thankfully my son saw a post of mine on facebook and called. "You want some company mom?"
 "YES PLEASE!"
He and his girlfriend came and spent the afternoon with me. They left about 10 minutes before my husband came home and he held me while I cried myself to sleep.

This morning I went into her room to check out what she'd left behind.  I saw the fuzzy robe that I had given her, the clutch that we had found that went perfectly with the dress that we bought for the winter formal. The one she never got to attend.  And I kept thinking things like "She'll never get to wear  her fuzzy robe again" and "We just bought her that bed a few months ago so she would sleep better." Suddenly I realized that I was acting as if she were dead. Like she was gone and I would never see her again. And I realized that I never really grieved for mama.  I have been sad and I have cried. But I haven't allowed myself to think of her as gone.  Because if I actually acknowledge that my mother is dead then I have to face the fact that I will never again hug her. I won't playfully chide her about not eating enough.  She won't laugh at my silliness and tell me I worry too much or I work too hard.

And Amanda moving suddenly made all of this clear to me. I was grieving her as if she had died because I couldn't bring myself to admit that mama had. I couldn't handle the thought that my mama was gone and she wasn't coming back. Mandy moving is hard, I miss her fiercely. But I can go visit her whenever I want. I can call her every day. She's still here. She's just not living with me anymore.  My mama is gone. I'll never again be able to call her and gripe about my husband, my children, or that woman in the grocery store who was rude to me.  I can't go sit in her living room and talk to her about everything and nothing at the same time. I won't hear her laugh over some silly joke I made that no one else found funny.  We won't be able to watch movies together and cry. And we'll never travel the world. And it hurts.  It hurts to the very core of my being. And I don't say anything because I don't want all of the looks of sympathy. I don't want people calling me all the time to check on me. I just want to grieve. I want to miss my mama and cry and I want it to be ok for me to do that. Because when people call to check on me, then I feel like I'm pitying myself.  I feel like I need to get over myself and my need to grieve. Lots of people have lost their parents. I'm not the first, I won't be the last. Why should I carry on so?  But when people leave me to it I can cry. I'm not depressed. I'm not wallowing in it. I am missing my mama.

Teenagers~

I have this plaque hanging above my recliner.  I don't think I could find a truer saying if I looked for the rest of my days.

My children are now 20, 19, and 17 years old. And let me tell you, they know everything. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not being sarcastic (ok maybe I am a little).  I'm straight up telling you, there is no subject that you can bring up that one or all of them is not an expert on.



My 20-year-old has a difficult time saving money. And that is putting it lightly. He is living at home still and works around 30 hours a week. I'm ok with this. We're going to be going on what will probably be our last family vacation soon and he's waiting till after it to start applying for a position in law enforcement.  All of this is fine with me. What is not fine with me is that the child can not save money!  I swear if he gets a dime it burns a hole in his pocket.  He lives paycheck to paycheck and he has no bills! Really?  How hard is it to save money when the only thing you pay for is your cell phone?  Apparently very hard. There are just so many games he wants!  And of course he has no bills, so he can afford them. I can't seem to get him to understand that he needs to be saving towards the day that he will have bills.

My 19-year-old is a smart mouth. I think I made him this way with my smart-alec remarks over the years. But lord is it coming back to bite me in the butt now!   I'm a firm believer in the fact that there is a time and place for everything, including sarcasm. But he just hasn't learned that the time isn't all the time.  There are moments when his quips crack me up, and moments when I would gladly throttle him.

My 17-year-old is probably the worst at any given time. She is our only little girl, and she is fond of saying that she is my "mini-me". I'd like to deny it but if you spend more than 30 minutes with the two of us you'll think so too.  We often say the same thing at the same time. We will react the same way to any given situation. Which sounds all fun and cool, but seriously would you want to put up with yourself as a teenager? I feel so bad for my mama and daddy now. I know the Hell they went through, because I am living it daily. My little angel has informed me about 75 times over the course of the last two years that she will be moving out as soon as she graduates high school. Now how she is going to accomplish this with no money is still a puzzle. She's going to "save money".   She saves every bit as well as her 20-year-old brother.  And every time I try to give her advice she says "I know mama.  17-year-old here, I'm grown up now, you don't have to tell me"

That is so frustrating, let me tell you.  I've given up though, I would do better to have a conversation with a brick wall.  When she's 30 we'll discuss this again. Somewhere around there is where I figure I'll start being right again.  But you know what? Even though they drive me nuts, I wouldn't trade one minute with them for anything else in the world. The time is quickly approaching that they will be out on their own. In those moments when they are drivng me nuts I remind myself that it won't be like this for long.  One day my house will be empty and quiet and I will miss all the little arguments that we had. And all the laughs.  I'll probably have to go annoy them at their homes then. ;)

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go...

Well I suppose that should be all his bags are packed and he's ready to go. My husband flew out Sunday morning to Michigan on his first ever business trip. Last week was insanely busy because neither of us has ever flown. We had no idea what to expect, how to pack, or what to do at the airport. I spent the greater portion of the week online reading what could and could not be packed. Asking my Facebook buddies for tips on what and how to pack. And buying all the little things we didn't have on hand for him.  And then came the big day that I had to drop him off. 

Photo by: RatRanch

Between learning all we could about airports, flying, and what you take, packing his bags, and last minute shopping for him it was a really stressful week. And this week hasn't been much better. Without my big snuggle bug in my bed I am not sleeping well. And he's not fareing much better. We have been able to talk for a few hours a night on the phone and that is helping.  I decided Sunday when he left that the only way I could get through this was to stay busy. And so I decided to dig out my room.

My husband is a bit of a pack rat.  Scratch that he's a HUGE pack rat. Think "Hoarders".  I have confined his pack rat tendencies to our bedroom at least, but lately we had a path to walk in our room and that was IT.  The closet was full of boxes, the drawers his clothes were supposed to be in were full of junk. Every single shelf or place to put anything, save my 3 drawers, was full of junk. It had really started bothering me. All of his clothes either sat on the desk or shared my drawer space and frankly I was tired of it. 

So I told him that while he was gone I was going to box all of this stuff up into cardboard milk boxes.  And when he gets home we will go through those boxes one at a time and decide what we'll keep, sell, or toss. But what we keep is going into storage (with a few exceptions).  It will NOT be going back in my room. I'm just sick of it.  He agreed so I have spent the last 3 days trying to sort out our closet and room. I'll finally finish tonight with the exception of putting his clothes away. But hey, at least I have drawers to put them in now!   God I didn't realize he had so much CRAP piled into our room. I think we have enough video cards and processors to supply a small country.  Tools, books, random scraps of paper with every conceivable thing jotted down on it, grease rags galore, and tons of shoes.  Of which like 3 pairs are mine.  I'll be so glad once we get through these boxes and I finally have my room back. It's going to be a big job, but sooo worth it.  And from now on, I am just gonna have to insist that when he brings something home, it goes in the place we designate for this stuff. Seriously, enough is enough!

Tomorrow morning I will be picking him up from his job, where he will return after his flight home.  Between now and then I need to clean the rest of the house which I neglected in my efforts to get my room under control. I also completely rearranged our bedroom. I like it better and I only hope that he will as well.  So basically it has been an extremely busy week and we're going to have quite a few more of those while we get through all the boxes that are now stacked under the desk and in every conceivable hole in our room.  Wish us luck!