Mission: Jewelry Organization

 So, I have a slight obsession with jewelry. I have a lot of different items, and didn't have a good way to organize them. I finally found a couple ideas on pinterest, combined with an item from Thirty-One Gifts that perfectly organize all my baubles and bangles!

Here is what my necklaces looked like before:

Just a bunch of necklaces hanging on C hooks that I screwed into the wall. At first it worked, but my necklace collection grew too much to continue to fit! The necklaces became a mess and it was difficult to get them off the hooks because they were over-crowded and getting tangled.

Solution: A jewelry pegboard! I saw the idea on pinterest: 

http://buttonbirddesigns.com/out-of-sight-out-of-mind/ 
but this blog post didn't have any instructions.

One weekend I had it in my head to get this done, but my husband was out of town. I am a very determined person, and I decided I was going to make this thing, even if Joel was gone for the weekend. So, I broke out the power tools and measuring tape and got it done! (Though there was a little bit of frustration when I was trying to find the studs. And I gave up for a few days, but eventually got it done. All by myself.)

We already had a long piece of pegboard, which I had to trim a little bit. It was a few inches too long to fit on the wall. So I got the saw out and cut off the excess and sanded it then spray-painted it purple.

I couldn't just put the pegboard right on the wall because the hooks wouldn't have fit in because the backs are deeper than the pegboard. So, I found a few old bed slats in the garage that were about an inch thick. I put three of these up. One towards the ceiling, one towards the baseboard, and one towards the midway point.

 After the wood was up, I screwed the pegboard into those.

 And then added my hooks - lots of them! I also added a couple longer hooks to hold a shelf up. On the high part of the pegboard I put items that I don't wear often.

The shelf holds a couple of ice cube trays which is filled with all of my earrings. The nice thing about this is that I can always add more ice cube trays, since they are easily stackable. :)

For my bracelets, I ordered a Littles Carry-All Caddy from Thirty-One Gifts (www.mythirtyone.com/sjsvenby). The caddy is only $12 (plus $7 for personalization), and has so many great uses!

My jewelry is now much more organized, and it is easy to find what I need in the morning. I love it! And the plus side is we already had the pegboard, the slats of wood, and the screws on hand at home. I only had to purchase the hooks and the little shelf, which only cost me a total of about $22. Not bad!

(Sorry the pictures aren't great. It was hard to get them because of the tight space in my closet, especially since this is right where the door opens up.)

Cheesy Sloppy Sliders

So I saw these yummy little sliders on Pinterest, but when I clicked on it, the link did not take me to directions on how to make them. But I made these today and they were yummy and so easy to make!

What you will need:

Ground beef

Ground sausage

Velveeta cheese

Slider rolls

As I browned half a pound of ground beef and half a pound of mild sausage together, my adorable sous chefs cubed half a pound of Velveeta for me. 

Once the meet was browned and drained, I added the cheese to the pan with about a tablespoon of milk to help thin it out a little bit. Are the cheese melted into the meat, it was ready!

We served them on slider rolls. I used buttery ones, which were good, but the Hawaiian sweet rolls would be good too! The amount we made was enough to feed the four of us and have some leftovers to spare. 

Even the little sous chefs liked them - and they can be picky eaters!

The seasoning in the sausage provided a nice flavor while the cheese made it creamy and held the meat together a little bit. These were a nice game day lunch for us, and would work well to make ahead of time and put in the crock pot for a party. 

Her life is about to change forever...

The other day my husband said to our five-year-old daughter, "Your life is about to change forever." And that was the first time that it really hit me. He's right. Her life is about to change forever, because tomorrow she starts kindergarten and her life never will be the same again. The rest of her life from here on out will be dedicated to something specific. Whether it be a student for the next  13+ years, or someone out in the "real world" contributing to society and (hopefully) making a difference. Soon the days of being a kid with no plans who can enjoy every second as it comes and not worry about what is to come will be gone.

She's a five year old so excited to start school and every morning she wakes up and she asks "is kindergarten starting?" I wish that she could hold on to that excitement and always have that desire for learning.

I know that someday in the not-so-distant future I will have to drag her kicking and screaming out of bed, fighting against having to go to school, complaining that she doesn't like her teacher, complaining about homework and tests, but for now, I hope she enjoys it. I hope she enjoys every second of the fun she is about to embark upon. This amazing journey of life and living and learning. And I hope that she can hold on to that excitement and wonderment of going to school. Of seeing the "big kids," learning form them and their experiences. And may she never take for granted the beauty of education.

I guess that's why we start this big change when we are young, when ignorance is bliss. Because if she knew what was in store for her over the next almost 20 years of school and college, would she be this excited? Would she be so eager to put on her uniform and new school shoes and head out on this journey? If she truly knew what was in store for her come middle school and high school, she would not have the eagerness inside her to learn and to step foot onto that school bus and walk through those school doors. But I'm glad she is eager for it. I'm glad she is ready to go to school. And I hope that just like her mother, she gets so excited for that first day of school each year.

What would you do if you knew it was your last day in the status quo? If you knew your life was about to change forever?

As an adult, I understand what this last day of freedom means for her. Her last chances to not worry if she is doing enough, if she is smart enough, if the other kids like her. Of comparing herself to others. Learning that society is harsh on people. Soon she will be seeing what the world is really like, and not the way she sees it now - full of wonder and mystery and things to explore. Of course, all those things will still be there but she won't see the world that way, through the innocent eyes of childhood.

What would you do if you could go back to those days but know what the start of school meant?

I want her to hold on to that love of school, of learning. To never take it for granted.

And of course this year we will hope for a better school picture than last year's. :)

The Roller Coaster of Love

They tell you that marriage is hard. That it is like a roller coaster filled with ups and downs. There is no way to understand just how true that is until you're in it. There are some days that are so hard and everyone in the house is cranky and frustrated and the house is a mess that seems will never be clean. Sometimes on those days I want to throw my hands in the air and scream "I give up! I want out! I'm done!" But then I stop and think: What would my life be like without the chaos? I wouldn't have those moments when I stop and think, I can't believe this is my life. I am so blessed.

I didn't promise to love my husband when it's easy to do so. Through our vows, I promised to love him for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live.

This year has really tested those vows.

There is never enough month at the end of the money, but this year has proven more difficult than usual. We had a car die on us, and we unexpectedly had to purchase a new one, which meant we had to figure out how to come up with the money for a monthly car payment. Plus, the water heater went out and we had to have the repairman come out three times to fix parts on it. Luckily the very expensive part that had to be replaced was covered under warranty!

Not to mention the health issues this year. Emmy had a few visits to urgent care for a UTI, nursemaid's elbow, and a nasty cold with a chest infection, and a trip to the allergist where we learned she is allergic to our dog. Lily broke her clavicle. And then Joel ended up in the hospital for the better part of a week with a nasty attack of colitis. And during that time I ended up with the worst sore throat of my life that just didn't seem like it wanted to go away. That was just about the toughest week I have ever had. I was exhausted, in pain, without my husband, missing work, and trying to balance everything at home and at the hospital. Talk about too many balls in the air!

Because of this past year I have come to appreciate our vows more than ever before. Even more than on our wedding day - when it was easy to make those vows. 

So, Joel, today, on our anniversary, my new vow to you is this:

It is easy to feel my love for you when the days are easy and filled with fun. I promise to work harder to feel the love on the hard days. When the days are long and stressful and the girls are out of control and dishes are piling up in the sink and the house is a mess and the bills are stacking up and there is no clean laundry to be found, I will stop and think about our love for each other. I will remind myself of the beginning. When things were easy and we were getting to know each other and slowly falling in love. When there was time for dates and not hurrying home to pay the babysitter. 

I vow to remember how happy we felt on our wedding day. To remember the love we felt, and still feel to this day and forevermore.

Once a Cowboy, Always an Angel

I haven't blogged in over a year now because life got busy and crazy and stressful (as it tends to do), and I just didn't feel like I had much to write about. Today was different. Today I couldn't stop thinking about an old friend that I miss dearly. My focus at work has been almost non-existent today as I try to remember him.

When you are young, you think you are invincible. Nothing can ever strike you down.
One summer we learned that the opposite is true. Out of nowhere, our friend Brian died when the plane that he was piloting crashed and he was killed instantly. Eleven years ago today, we lost a shining star in our world.

It was so hard to hear that someone so young and full of life and on the verge of realizing his dreams was gone forever.  In those moments, life seems to freeze. Nothing else matters. But, like it always does, life continues on. You grow, you change, you move on. And it hurts when you look back at what could have been and what should have been. Brian should still be here, flying planes, probably married with cute little kids running around in cowboy boots and hats, living out his dreams. But instead, he earn a different set of wings.

As time passes, you start to forget things. There is always that missing piece, the hole that can never be filled inside your heart and inside your mind. But some of the details start to slip away. The conversations you had, the times spent together. But with Brian, there are some things that can never be forgotten: the cowboy hat and boots, the flannel shirts, his love of God and others, his way of captivating a room, and his smile. No matter how much time passes, I will never forget Brian's smile; it's impossible. It was infectious, and it still is. Still, when I think of his smile, it makes me smile. I can't help it. Thinking of his smile reminds me of everything Brian was. A young man full of life, energy, love, and faith. A positive influence to everyone around him. Someone who was here to help build God's Kingdom on Earth, and he sure did!

So here is to you, Brian - you'll always be our cowboy!

A Funeral for a Fish

Who knew a little Betta fish could mean so much to a 4-year-old? I didn't - until tonight, that is. On Saturday afternoon, we came home from a family outing to see that Fred the Fish was dead in his bowl.

When Lily got her fish, she was so excited. Joel took her to the store to pick it out and she came home with a big grin on her face. She loved watching him swim, and really loved feeding him! On more than one occasion she gave him a little more food than he should have had. And whenever it was time to clean his bowl, she always helped daddy get it done.

A few times between Saturday and today, I mentioned to Lily that we needed to either flush him down the toilet or bury him. She wanted to do neither, so I let it go for a little while. But today as I looked at Fred sitting on the bottom of his bowl, his bright blue colors gone, and his tail starting to disintegrate, I decided we finally needed to do something; I told Lily that we needed to flush him.

She did not take the news well. The tears began immediately, but I scooped Fred out of his bowl and put him in a little dish with some water so that Lily could hold him. We went into the bathroom and stood next to the toilet with Lily sobbing. She just stood there, holding the little dish with Fred in it for so long, sobbing. She didn't want let him go. I kept thinking, It's just a fish. There are so many more at the store. I even briefly left the room at one point.

As I sat there, going absolutely crazy, while trying to be calm and patient, the obvious finally dawned on me: this is her first experience with death. She doesn't know what it means, and she doesn't know how to handle it. This is one of those teachable moments in life. I'm realizing that with the busyness we have created in our world and lives, we miss out on these teachable moments. We worry about moving on and getting to the next thing on the to-do list. We are exhausted, yet still have so much more to do before we can rest. We need to take the time to stop and embrace those moments, for some day we will wish we had taught our children when we had the chance. And that is when I thought of this:

Lily may not have been using words, but she was definitely trying to tell me something. I had to listen to what she wasn't saying, wasn't understanding. This was my child's first time ever having to deal with death. To her it didn't matter if it was a person or just a fish. He was her fish and she loved him; that is what she knew. Once I calmed down and sat next to her, she finally starting talking. She expressed her concern of not seeing him again, of his broken tail, and fin on his back, and would Jesus fix him?, and could she get another fish, another blue one? She finally was able to dump him into the toilet, but we continued to sit there while she cried and cried, refusing to flush. We told her that by going down the toilet, that's how fish get to heaven.

Finally, Joel had the brilliant idea of sending some food with Fred on his journey. Lily went and got his food and stood there, next to the toilet, holding onto that little bottle of fish food. It was as if she knew that if she put some food in with him she would really have to say goodbye and it would be over. There must have been something comforting about that fish food though, (we did tell her that he would eat the food when he got to heaven, and Jesus fixed his tail and fin) because she wasn't crying anymore at that point. She eventually gave him one last goodbye and flushed the toilet.

She looked at me with sadness and a little bit of disbelief in her eyes, and I gave her a big hug and told her, "I know that was hard to do, Lily. But I am proud of you. You did a good job; you were very brave," and I just held her while she cried. Most days I am going crazy because she doesn't listen, and can't keep her hands to herself and stay out of other people's space, but my Lily is such a sweet girl with such a big, kind, and warm heart. And it is moments like these that I see her true self; the compassionate little girl that feels other people's pain, and doesn't know what to do with her own.

She went to the window and just stood there looking out as if she was checking to be sure that Fred had made it to his destination. I pointed up to the sky and said, "See the clouds up there? Fred is way up above the clouds in heaven. Jesus has fixed his tail, and he is enjoying the food you gave him." She wanted a pink airplane so that she could go see him, but I picked her up and laid her in bed next to Joel, the bottle of fish food still in her hands.

Lent: Bettering Myself (and My Relationship with Lily)

This is a post that I have been meaning to write since Mardi Gras, but as always, life gets busy and it's hard to find time to sit down and write. I always struggle with giving something up for Lent. The purpose of giving up is to recognize the sacrifice that Jesus made for us on the cross. When we are "suffering" because of our "sacrifice" we are supposed to be thinking of His suffering. But to be completely honest, the only thing that ever crosses my mind is my own suffering for having to give something up; I'm not thinking about Jesus. I think about Him on a regular basis (I mean, I do work in a Catholic church, after all) and think about His ultimate sacrifice, and I thank God daily for all of the gifts I have been given, and am given on a daily basis. Instead of giving up I try to do something to improve myself, to become more what God wants me to be. This year I was having a hard time thinking of something to do (no, I'm not saying I'm perfect, but who likes to name all the things wrong with herself?). But God spoke to me on Mardi Gras and I instantly knew what I had to do. (He always does help just in the nick of time, doesn't he?)

It was Lily's first day of swimming lessons. She was so excited for them to start, and she had so much fun hanging out in the pool and making new friends and just splashing around (she is a little fish, and very daring - she kept wading out into water that was chin-deep). When lessons were over and everyone was out of the pool, Lily was still in there, all along, walking around in the chin-deep water. The teachers were trying to get their next classes ready to get in, and I am standing there with Emmy on my hip, trying to get Lily's attention to get her out of the pool. How embarrassing!! Obviously, my frustration level was starting to rise. I finally got her out of the pool and then tried to get her into a shower to rinse off. More frustration as she would not get in the shower. Then I had to get her dried off and dressed, which was another battle. Keep in mind, I also have Emmy with me this whole time, so I'm trying to keep her near me and not wandering off while I'm dealing with Lily not listening and fighting against everything I want her to do. At this point my frustration level was very high.

As we walked out of swimming lessons, and keep in mind, my frustration level was already high from her behavior inside, she isn't listening and was just wandering and meandering. She was playing in the bike rack (one of those newer, squiggly ones), and insisted on walking through the snow, and Emmy is getting heavy on my hip and starting to slip down my jacket. My frustration level was growing even higher, and I was about to snap. But in that moment I had an epiphany. It suddenly hit me; the Spirit spoke to me. I need to try to see the world the way she does - full of awe and wonder. I need to slow down and take in the things around me, and allow her to do the same. There are so many things for her to see and figure out what they do and what their purpose is. She is only going to be a child once. She is only going to see things for the first time once, only going to learn about the world around her once. When I see her soaking in something new, I need to stop and have patience with her. I don't want to force her to grow up too fast, the world will do plenty of that for me. (That being said, I know she needs to learn how to listen and behave properly, but I don't want her spirit to be squashed either.)

So this Lent, that is what I am working on. Seeing the world through Lily's eyes and letting her do the same! So far it has been wonderful. I still have my days where I wish she would move a little faster, dawdle a little less, but that's Lily. It's just the way she is. I know that she needs to learn to listen and be on task, and we are working on that, but I want to just let her be a kid because in no time at all she will be all grown up and I will be looking back wishing I could remember her as she is now. The fact that I have been choosing my battles a little more wisely with her has really helped with her listening skills. She seems to be much better about doing the things that I ask, just because she gets a little bit of freedom at other times. We have had less time battling and more time rolling around on the floor having fun and giggling. What a joy it has been for me to experiencing more of that with her! This is definitely not just a 40 day change, this is a life change. I want my dear, sweet girl to grow up to be kind and patient. Where is she going to learn it if she doesn't learn it at home?

God bless! 0:)