My Bucket Pales

I don't have a bucket list. 

I think that makes me officially the most boring person on Earth.

This came to me last week as Brad was deciding whether or not to go skydiving with a group from our church.  He told me, "It's always been on my bucket list."  Huh.  I had no idea.

Then I realized I have no list.  I mean, I think of things like, "It would be nice to see the Grand Canyon," or "Gee, I wonder if I could take better photos with a nicer camera," but I don't set those as goals for myself.  Perhaps I should?  Perhaps I'm just stupidly content with life as is?

So my questions for you are:

 Do you have a bucket list?  If so what's one thing that's on it?

Oh, and Brad decided to not go jumping.  It's not because he has back disease (and in my opinion should not), it had more to do with the company's rain check policy.  Instead, he wants us to go on a hot air balloon ride.  I'll join him in the basket, even thought it's not on my list...

photo source

Five Years Ago Today...

I wore this, my mother's wedding dress:

To marry him for the second* time:

It was the very best way to spend a Sunday.

*If you don't know our story, we married at a courthouse that April and then at my church in July. 

perspective

I have mentioned that my hair is an annoyance. I'm trying to let it grow.  Yes, I know that hair grows on its own, but mine was quite short and I'd like it longer. The "let" part really refers to trying to bear it as it grows. It's all mullet-y.

We have been having very windy days.  Yesterday I stood outside for a half hour or so watering my plants.  My hair was beyond comical, also known as all mullet-y if Q-Tips had mullets, when I came inside, and I said to Brad, "Look what the wind did to my hair!"

He replied, "I used to complain about my shoes hurting my feet until I met a man who had no shoes."

I skipped a beat.

Then I looked at his bald head, and I got it.

So Fragged Off!

Oy.

On the way home tonight, it's Friday Fragments time but I'm writing on Thursday, I was listing the things I need to get done, and I found myself pretty certain it was time for me to take a blog break.  It's been a weird week, and I just can't seem to find the time to pay attention to this blog.  May is going to be busy, super so, and I might need some time off.

So these fragments are a look back and a look ahead, and we'll see about the break.

Birthday Fragments:
My husband turned 60 on Tuesday, but I celebrated him all month.

He received a card a day from people who love him and he loved it...

And we had a surprise party on Saturday.  He was really surprised.  But what I found out is...I didn't like keeping a secret from him.  It was too hard.  We talk about everything.  And I had to censor myself for over a month.  Not fun.

Party?  Fun!

Would you believe he wouldn't let me light his candles?  He didn't want to ruin his Portillo's chocolate cake!  Not sure what our Jeanette is doing in that picture.  And...even though I said no gifts, our friend Walt brought a box of "clay pigeons."  Yee ha!  (And other friends brought candy which I've been nibbling on tonight.  So wrong of me!)

Work Fragment:
My student teacher's time is coming to an end, today was her last teaching day, so I'm back in the saddle.  May is so fragmented due to field trips, assessments, art mom visits, read ins, mom's day gifts, assessments, a huge project (they will be shocked those kiddies will), field trips...not a normal day in the month!

Family Fragments:
My son graduates from the MLIS program at LSU in BR LA in three weeks.  Woo hoo!  Can't wait to wear a sundress in May!

My niece is still with us, and she just got a job at Gilly Hicks.  I'm not sure how I feel about her "uniform" of really short shorts and a tank.  Sorry, no photo available!

Fundraising Fragment:
Our annual annuals sale is going on at school, and I'm in charge of that.  Time to figure out what our yard needs...

Flower Fragment:  
One of my tutoring parents gave me five hydrangeas.  Five! Keeping them alive inside has been tough, they're in such little pots they just dry up.  But we're hoping they hold on until we can get them in the ground.  If you live somewhere where hydrangeas actually stay this color, you are blessed!

Fitness Fragment:
And, on top of all this, I've made a commitment to (continue to) exercise.  I purchased and swiftly received (Saturday order, Tuesday arrival) the Brazil Butt program.

The first time I've ever ordered something from an infomercial.  I like it so far, and I can tell if I stick with it (and for three payments of 19.95 plus shipping, I will) there will be changes.  (It takes up to an hour six out of seven days.  Eep!)

Health Fragment:
On NewsRadio 720 I heard a story like this one and the focus was on women who don't get enough sleep, but I couldn't find the link on-line for the exact story I heard.  Basically, I have always been selfish about sleep.  I need seven hours a night, no less.  The facts say it all. Women don't take care of themselves because they take care of others--at the expense of their health. So I do choose to sleep versus blog (as well as other things).

Do you?  Should you?

Faith Fragment:
Now onto a purer topic, my anniversary present to Brad was a copy of Jesus Calling.  On nights we're both home, we share a devotional.  We'd been using the library's copy, but you know, it's a lending library not a keeping library, and in time even with renewals, they'd want the book back so...

Friend Fragment:
My blog friend Stacy wrote about having blog ruts.  It made me think.  I always have something to write about.  Whether or not it's interesting or relevant to anyone but me is a wonder, but the time thing that's my obstacle.  With work, tutoring, commuting, devotionals, exercising and sleeping I just sometimes feel pressured to blog.  And I don't want to feel anything but enjoyment about this little web destination.

So if I'm absent a lot in May it's because life is good.  Not amazing, but just right and full--you know full of blog fodder I just don't have energy to share!

Thanks Mrs. 4444:

Go check out the other fraggers at Half Past Kissin' Time!

A wish a day...

Brad's birthday is on the 24th, and it's a biggie.  So to celebrate, I have collected some birthday cards and notes to share with him, one a day, to let him know he is valuable.  Today he will open his third card.  The first two have been from me, but the next few...who knows?

I only have eight up so far, but I think the "wall" is going to have to continue on to another door!  Such sweetness arriving daily.

Everyone should feel loved and appreciated.  Don't you agree?

Curly Q--question of the week

I've been mulling over a hair post for a while now.  In my quest to write about things more deeply, it just didn't seem appropriate.  Wait, you didn't sense I was reaching for depth?  It's an internal thing, something I want to do, but haven't really achieved.

Regardless, I have decided to let my hair grow again.  Exciting eh?  About as exciting as watching paint dry is watching hair grow.  Except, my hair is wavy/curly so it may be really thrilling when I get to Q-tip stage.  You know, skinny upper body, long neck and a poof of hair on my head.

Brad doesn't understand it.  He likes my hair short. Of course, he liked it longer and didn't want me to cut it. The man doesn't like hair change. Two years ago, I had my hair cut off to pixie length (it's a '60s thing), and I loved it (he did too).  But after two years of only having that "style", I'm tired of it.  So I'm trying something else.

I console the man by saying, "If I don't like it a bit longer, I can cut it all off again," but that makes him look at me with concern.  I'm not sure what to do with that concern, I will admit.

This week's question, perhaps one I've asked before,  

Does your husband/boyfriend/man of your dreams share his opinion on your look or does he not notice?

Thanks to Stacy for pinning the above graphic.  It made me laugh!  (Sorry it's grainy, I wanted y'all to be able to read it.)  It's so true, women with straight hair often look at curlies with envy.  And we look back with the same.  Sometimes I tweak my hair and make it curl and marvel at how it just does that.  I'm getting to the point of acceptance, it's been five decades after all...

I've written a lot about acceptance over the past number of months--years really--when it came to my weight.  Women are meant to be curvy.  Brad loves me the way I am.  I am God's masterpiece.  All those are true.   So I did work to stop beating myself up. If you've read this blog for a while, you might already know that.  After 40+ years of hurting myself, it was time to stop.

But, around January 3, 2012 when all the diet Pepsi was gone, we decided to not buy more.  We decided, Brad and I, to make healthier choices together.  He has lost weight and is feeling better.  Me?   Two months later, nine pounds lighter, and having exercised more days than not, I simply feel healthier and a little stronger.

Pursuing health feels good on the inside, but there's more.  The surface stuff matters too.   To deny that would be a lie.  A simple pleasure, more things in my closet fit.  Getting dressed no longer slows me down as I try to find pants that fasten without discomfort.  I delight in wearing jeans that I considered donating since they'd "never" fit again.  Reporting to my accountability partner has been a good little shove in a positive direction.

The curves remain, just on a slightly smaller scale!

I am thankful God loves me no matter what size I am.  I cherish that.   Brad loves me no matter what size I am.  I value that.  I had a hard time doing so, but with God's help I had finally got to that level of self-acceptance.  I recognized I was not overweight.  However,  reminders in my Bible about God's temple, make me wonder if I honored Him through my habits.  I've turned to God through this more times than I can count.  Nine pounds ago and now He holds me closer than I can measure because He dwells within me.  I must continue to honor Him.

¹⁹ Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; ²⁰ you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.  
(1 Corinthians 6:19-20.)

These verses pertain to much more than health and weight.  I know that.  I also understand I may fall back into old habits.  He will love me anyway.  But now I choose to celebrate health.  I am so thankful for the healthy food options that surround me.  For the clean water He provides for me.  For a working, functioning, cancer free body.  For good nights' sleep in a safe bed.  For calm.  At 51, I wonder how much longer good health will be a blessing.  I cannot take it for granted.

I also understand this struggle, though wrestled hard, is nothing compared to what many others face, and for that I am thankful too.

For Aubree, sort of (Q of the W)

Last week, I made note on facebook that it was the fifth anniversary of Brad coming to my classroom to propose marriage. My stepdaughter-in-law Aubree commented that she hadn't heard that story before, so I briefly retold it.

It makes sense she didn't know it, she wasn't yet in the Seaman family then.  And, to be honest, though it's romantic to us, I've told it here, it's not something we gleefully shared with his family, and mine wasn't as into the cuteness of it as my friends seem to have been.

Truth be told, I don't know her proposal story, either.  (Just realized this!)

Anyway...technically, though he said he wouldn't, he DID ask me a fourth time.   And looking at this picture, I can tell you I should have said yes in the restaurant, I was dressed better...(see, you just have to go back and read our story!)

Aubree's facebook comment of last week has propelled me to ask this week's question:

How did your husband/fiancee propose?  

What's your story?  

Was it a romantic popping of the question?  

Did you both just decide? 

I can't wait to read your comments!

Church

I loved the church that helped me find my way back to God seven years ago.  (Turns out, He was right here.  All the time.)

I love the church we attend now.

At both, I was called to serve.  At the first, I served in many capacities, including speaking from stage.   At my current church, I've had a tougher time finding where I fit.  I only do one "little" serve.

Over the past two weekends,  I spend some rich quiet time reading Crazy Love by Francis Chan.  It was an easy read, but a challenging book.  What I took from it is the idea that I have to serve everywhere.  Everywhere. 

Brad tells me I serve with this blog, and his speaking those words touched my heart.  You are my church. My students know I am a believer, it's hard for me to hide things from them, and so, they are my church. My friends at work will come to me with prayer requests from time to time, so they are my church.  But now, I'm praying for ways for God to use me in my community, to serve others--and there are so many with less--right here in Aurora, Illinois.

The first message of the new year at The Compass was delivered by a pastor who doesn't normally do the teaching.  It has stayed with me.  He asked us, challenged us, "Whose ending are you going to change?"  I have been told I have the gift of evangelism.  This church doesn't baptize like my old church did, but I can still teach about God.  I can still do good works in His name.

After I hit "publish post," I am going to write to a friend who is also quite invested in God and helping others.  He works for the mayor of this city.  I'm going to make Him an offer.  I think it might be what God wants me to do...I'm not sure...but I know I'm being prompted.

Church, I want it to be who I am.

Kitchen Twitchin'?

My last post was a heavy duty one, and I was blessed by the comments and personal messages I received in response to it.  Blessed and wonderfully overwhelmed.

However, so you still know I can laugh...

I ordered and finally got this from The Pampered Chef:

I've wanted one for a while.  I can't wait to use it.  When I told my friend Megan I was awaiting its arrival, she said, "Does Brad know it can't be washed?"  Well, um, no.

My husband, well, he's kind of a "Mr. Clean."  (If you just clicked there, ignore all the soda, we're now a soda free house.)  All my friends know.  I'm not complaining, he cleans the whole house every week and does 99% of the laundry.

When the stoneware arrived I read outloud from the directions, "do not wash with soap."  He paused, then he said, "You really should have talked with me about this first..."  I think he was kidding.  I'm not sure.  I mean, he wasn't twitching or anything.

Tomorrow night, pizza.  With my new stone.  We'll see how he does with the clean-up.

So Long Soda Pop Redux

Last March, I wrote about all the reasons I was going to stop drinking soda pop (with regularity).  I did for a while.  Then, because he loves to please me and he knows what I like, Brad kept buying it. He tends to buy in bulk, by the way. Then he started drinking it, and I continued.

I am a fraud.  (Picture me first sighing and then hanging my head. I would take a picture of myself doing this, but you would see my roots, and, well, they're just not pretty.)

Before Christmas, I did get to the point of only drinking one diet Pepsi a day.  That was good.  But it wasn't what I said I was going to do.

Then, over winter break, Brad saw a video on-line about NutraSweet (aspartame) and how such artificial sweeteners trick your body into making you more hungry and storing fat.  Though I had explained all of those facts to him last spring, this time the video did the trick. We finished the little bit of soda pop we had around, and then he didn't buy any more. 

I've gone 14 days without pop.  I've lost about three pounds.  I'm not missing it (the pop nor the pounds) much.  It is easier to do this when he is on board too.  My students have noticed I only drink water at school.  That's a good thing.  At home I drink, water, club soda or iced tea--black.

We'll see if this time around is life changing.

And I swear, our decision had nothing to do with this...

Interrupted--question

"An open book in my hands is a challenge for your father to start a conversation." 

Alice E. Stewart, aka my mom

The funny thing is, it became immediately apparent after I married Brad that in this way I had "married my dad."  I find a moment to read; he has to talk.  And, yes, he knows I am posting this.  He thinks it's funny.  I, of course, don't always!

The question:   

What activity do you do that your husband or kids feel the need to interrupt?

Come on, there must be something.

(He also closes drawers and the pantry door when I'm cooking or baking, but since me creating anything in the kitchen is a  rare occurrence, I won't kvetch about that...much!)

Mitch Again Wedding...shoes

Last weekend, we went to a wedding in Michigan.

To get to the ceremony site, we had to ride a ski lift.

We were behind our friends, the dad and mom of the groom.

Brad made me take my shoes off so they wouldn't fall to the ground!

This is what we saw from the top of the hill.

The ceremony spot.

The entire wedding party, even the bride and her father took the lift!

Picture perfect!

The groom thought so too.

After a hilltop cocktail hour, we went down the hill to the Mountain Flowers Lodge which had a gorgeous patio outside.

And inside,  we spent the evening together, my good friends, my handsome husband and I.

In these shoes, I made some important memories.
I brought home some MI dirt to prove it...

Linking with Dani again!  
Check out her post today.

Not a Game Name

I am the fourth child and first daughter of the late Allen and Alice Stewart.

My parents chose to name my eldest brother James Allen, they had two more boys, but then they waited for a girl to truly name after Dad.

He was Allen Vance Stewart.  They named me Ellen Vance Stewart.

I love my name.

When I married the first time, I took my husband's last name.  I missed being Ellen Stewart.  It was a short lived marriage, and when I divorced, I took Stewart back.

Years later, I married Brad.  He was fine with me staying Stewart.  Plus, there was another Seaman in our school building, and two Mrs. Seamans might get confusing.  So I stayed Ellen Vance Stewart.

But four years later, I'm wondering if I should change my name.  My students and their parents tend to call me Mrs. Stewart.  It gets a little weird being called the wrong name--I'm not Mrs. Stewart.  But...if I changed my name, the best I could do would be to hyphenate it to Ellen Stewart-Seaman.  And Mrs. Stewart-Seaman is a mouthful.  And, I hate how people say "Seemen" when it is SeaMan. Come on folks, it's phonetic.

Funnily enough, we went to a wedding this weekend.  Some former LWS kids were there, and they called Brad "Mr. Stewart."  Perhaps he should just change his name?

This is so not a post about losing myself.

What should I do?

A Sweet Little Q of the W...

     Sometimes I tutor at Starbucks.  As I worked with Anna on Saturday morning, a young couple came in. After they got their food, they sat across from each other and held hands.  It was so sweet. 
     I'm a toucher.  When I sit near Brad, I just have to touch him. (He says that's why he married me!)  When we're out to eat, if we can, we usually sit next to each other.

The Question of the Week:  

When you're out with your significant other (sans children) how do you sit?

Photo credit to my friend "Art."  

I didn't even remember her taking this on our wedding day, though it's obviously a posed snap.

Anniversary Photos

     Yesterday's party was fun, and I'm tired.  Friends are coming over in a few minutes, and I have yet to shower.  Later this afternoon, we are going along the Fox for a bike ride--if it doesn't rain.  So thankfully I have some photos to share, and I can stop typing...

Taken by our friend and photographer Debbie Benjamin,

along Naperville's Riverwalk

Friday, July 8, 2011

Simply Put Saturday Night...and Into Sunday

     I am asking for your prayers.
     God has been working on my heart to get me to do something, or at least to attempt to do something I just don't want to do.  It's not life or death, but it's kind of multi-layered.  And did I mention, I don't want to do it?  Oh right, I just did.
     He's been talking to me while I read His word.  He's been talking to me while I do the laundry.  He's been talking to me while I'm in church.  He's been talking to me when I run.  I'd really prefer it if I wasn't hearing Him so strongly.  But God, my God, He's LOUD and CLEAR.  I keep giving Him reasons why I don't think He's right, yeah, I've got that nerve.  Yet...He won't shut up. 
     Boy, do I want Him to.
     For about a month now He's been showing up too many places telling me to do the right thing.  I think I've been intentional in doing the opposite just because I can't imagine listening to Him on this one. 

     He's right of course, but that doesn't mean I don't want to be right too. Except we're having completely opposite thoughts here, and only one of us can be right, and, you know, He's God.  He wins.
     But I'm not ready to give in.  I'm wrestling with Him.
     So, if you'd pray that I'd humble myself to Him, which will mean humbling myself to others.  Which will mean no more complaining or gossipping, which will mean working at making peace, which will mean allowing myself to open to be slammed again...oh wait, that's me wrestling again--see, knowing that this will most likely hurt, quite a bit, makes me not want to do it.
     Enough already, El.  Shut up, me.
     Will you just pray for me please? God knows what I'm writing about here.  Knowing you are praying will hold me to being accountable to listen and do what He is telling me.

Our Second Fourth

Four years ago, I married this man for the second time.

Happy anniversary Bradford.

 

We danced to Selah's version, but I like this one too.

Marriage

     When I heard about Maria and Arnold splitting, I became sad for them. My heart breaks at the idea of a marriage ending. A pastor I know once told me it was only second to the death of a child in emotional pain.  I was sipping breakfast (Slim Fast), and snuggling on the couch with Brad when GMA covered the story yesterday.  Twenty-five years of marriage, ended.   I looked at Brad and said, "That makes me sad; it also makes me sad to think of your marriage to Debbie ending."  He said, "That makes me sad too."
     You probably know that both Brad and I were married before.  He for three decades and me for a short time a long time ago to Mac's dad.  I don't mean to make light of my situation, but it was a breeze compared to most divorces.  Mac's dad stayed in the picture, Mac saw him, and his dad paid child support without one glitch.  We are not friends, but we respect each other a great deal.  I refer to him as "Mac's dad," versus "my ex" because his role has always been to be a good father to our son.  I was then single for 19 years, happily single, before meeting Brad. I really didn't think I wanted to get married again, but when I became aware of God in my life, I started thinking I would make someone a good wife.
     I would pray for two things, 1) a husband and 2) if that wasn't God's plan, to have him remove the desire from my heart. About a year after that, I met Brad.  He wasn't who I thought I wanted, but God does know best. Our marriage is strong.  We are a kind to each other.  He is my best friend.
     Brad's story is his to tell.  His divorce occurred a few years before we met, and his first wife has remarried.  I have met her, and she seems very nice.  His children, I believe, thought that this--this us--was a fluke, a blip, and that we wouldn't last.  I wasn't really welcomed.  A huge part of me understands that.  How do you accept a new person in a parent's life?  When Brad and I became engaged, one of my very good friends said, "I am so happy for you, but it makes me sad to know a marriage of such duration can end." 
     I felt the same. 
     There are so many layers to families.  Brad's family is far from him, but so close in his thoughts--always.  Mac is far from us, but truly loves us both and he expresses his love, we talk with him at least once a day in some format or other. Sometimes I wish Brad's family would care for me the way Mac cares for Brad, but mostly I'm okay with their distances from me. At first, they were guarded and I was cautiously open, but their walls caused me to create boundaries too. 
     When I'm with my friends, I sometimes joke about this, and I'm darn funny. But I'm not so sure that's fair.  I'm certain  if I wrote the way I sometimes find myself thinking, my following here would grow, but that's unkind and disrespectful.  Mean is popular, but it's not who I am.
     I am a woman who is thankful for her son, her son's father, and her still newish marriage.  Brad said yesterday he was sad to think of his first marriage ending and how it changed his family, but from that he met someone sweet.  I liked that. Truth be told, under my sharp edges, I am sweet.  He knows me.
     So I don't gloat or feel like I've scored from loss.  But I am thankful.

Arnold and Maria photo source

Get a Giggle Friday

Two clowning on a bench.  

One is the man of my dreams...the other is a fashion don't.

Both have "hearts" of servants' gold.

The one with less hair was having a birthday.

On Sunday, we served dinner at Ronald McDonald House in memory of Vicki Miller.

We are blessed to have this opportunity to take care of others, but we miss Vic so much.

Yesterday, two of my girls presented me with this gift.  I found that sweet considering I'd just posted here about gifts for teachers.  They know I like Charlie Brown and friends and baseball, so...

Charlie Brown up to bat.  I do like a smiling bald male...

Speaking of mine, Brad's still working on the downstairs.  Nail pops, casings, all replaced or repaired and patched. New can lights installed.  Somewhere, my knitting is to be found:

Can you see the drywall dust on the hardwood floor?  Like Easter basket grass or Christmas tree needles, it's EVERYWHERE!
But the room will be gorgeous in time. Painting has begun!
He's doing this while working on a few closings and communicating with new clients as well as dealing with his chronic back pain, so there's no rush from this side!

Thanks for stopping by!

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