Dejunking: My Life and Home, 2015

One of the most frustrating things I’ve encountered recently is my growing desire for a Big Change.

I’ve mentioned it before here, here, and here, my itchy feet syndrome. My inability to be content with the same place for more than a few years. It has hit again. Hard. Especially towards the end of 2014 when I kept looking at 2015 with hope and excitement. 2015 represents a clean slate, a new start, a tangible end to a crappy year and the beginning of a year that isn’t crappy - in fact, 2015 has the potential to be awesome. It is, of course, what we make it, and I am determined! Determined to make 2015 a Great Year!

Back to my itchy feet. About every three years or so, I get the urge for change. Change of jobs, change of location, change of something. Unfortunately, Scott and I have already made the executive decision that a relocation right now is not feasible. We want to get Cyra through middle and high school without another move. We want to save up money so that in a few years Scott can start his plan to go to brew school. To do that we need to do a few things:

1. Stay on target - with our budget and our long term plans.

2. Keep put - no moving or major life changes.

3. Live modestly - we are planning on living on his salary while socking mine away into savings.

These three things…well, actually, just the second item on the list, put a real kink into my BIG CHANGE and ITCHY FEET plans.

What’s a girl to do?

Well, it all goes back to one of the things I’ve been obsessively googling lately: the Small House Movement. Tiny little portable homes, with tiny little footprints, being all handmade, cute, and minimalist.

I. Love. It.

Scott and I talk all the time about buying land in the middle of nowhere and building a tiny little house, a chicken coop, and a garden. Maybe even a couple of tiny little houses, one for us and then an extra one or two for guests. Ah, the dream of living off the grid and off the land.

But, in all reality, I probably couldn’t go that way, at least with the house size. I like my dvds, crafts, and games way too much. Those three things alone could take up an entire 150 square foot room!! But, I find more and more, as I look around my cluttered home, there is a lot of stuff that I really could do without. I might not be able to reduce enough to live in 150 square feet but I can certainly pare down what I have to live in my 1300 square foot home without feeling claustrophobic.

Now, by no means am I a hoarder. I’ve seen that. I’ve got a family member who is one. But I do have a tendency to collect a lot of crafting supplies. You can see my craftway here. It takes up my entire entry hall (that we don’t use anyway). But with so many crafts (I really do know how to do pretty much every. Single. Craft.) I get overwhelmed with all the supplies. It is time to pare down. I have roughly 60 pounds of scrapbook paper. Who needs 60 pounds of paper? Not this girl!! Not anymore!

So, to alleviate my itchy feet and appease my need for Big Change, I’m down sizing my life. I’ve made a list of rooms, closets, and cabinets I want to tackle and each week I’ll put a dent into my life. That being said, I’m not touching the girls or Scott’s stuff. For one, Scott doesn’t actually have that much stuff and what he does have: books and clothes, are already at a minimum. As a child of military parents, he already has a minimalist mind set. As for the girls, I’m hoping that as they see me donate, toss, and yard sale stuff, they’ll get into the dejunking.

I’ve actually already started. Remember I mentioned my recent weight loss? Well, I’ve donated roughly a third of my clothes and thrown away another quarter. My closet is much more accessible now. And I felt great about getting rid of stuff I never wear!

I think I’ve found the cure for my itchy feet and restless urge for change. Next up: The Kitchen!

Line in the Sand

I’ve never been much for celebrating the New Year. I’ve been to exactly one New Year’s Eve party way back in the early 90s. Staying up and watching the ball drop in New York City is about all the enthusiasm I can muster for what is an arbitrary human line in the sand. Depending on which ancient civilization you favor, the new year fell on the winter solstice, the vernal equinox or some other logical celestial event. The winter solstice makes the most sense to me, but who am I to argue with history winners?

In recent years, staying up to watch the ball drop has become a chore. The older I get the less interested in I am in staying up late and if my neighbors would stop with the fireworks every year, I’d blissfully sleep through the whole thing.

This year though? This year that arbitrary line in the sand is vitally important to me. It’s a tangible moment that will allow me to put 2014 into the “history” category. And Friends, I really, really need to do that. 2014 was a challenge. 2014 sucked spiky, radioactive, guano balls. 2014 just needs to end already.

While I won’t be staying up this year to tell 2014 to “suck it” I’m certainly looking forward to waking up on January 1st with a metaphorically clean slate. I don’t expect things to be magically better though. They won’t be. The same issues that we have been dealing with all year will still be lurking. We’ll still be fighting to reduce some of the shit that has been dumped on us this year, but thankfully, the pile is definitely getting smaller.

2015 isn’t going to be be about new beginnings and changes so much as it will be a return to things I stopped doing in 2014 because it was too much, too overwhelming, too hard to juggle. I’m not one for sticking with resolutions, but I’ve got them this year and I am determined to keep them. Nothing in the realm of impossibility, nothing far-fetched. I’m not planning to take up mountain climbing, become fluent in Latin, and certainly not overcome my fear of sharks by swimming with them. 

Goodbye 2014. Make sure you leave your keys and close the door on the way out.

Hello 2015! Come on in, sit and stay awhile! I've been looking forward to your visit!

The Countdown Is On

There’s a two-part episode of Star Trek Voyager titled “Year of Hell” in which Captain Janeway and her crew suffer a series of calamities over the course of a year. Eventually, through the magic of temporal phenomenon, everything ends up honky-dory, and the Year of Hell never happens. Voyager’s crew continues on their journey unaware of the disasters that befell them or they avoided...I’ve never understood temporal mechanics.

There have been more times than I can count that I’ve wished for a temporal phenomenon to undo this year or fast forward it. My very own, very real, very intense Year of Hell. As science fiction isn’t all science fact yet, that leaves me just waiting for the end of 2014.

Many times, almost daily, I ask myself what right have I to complain. I know people who’ve been through far too much for me to ever complain about anything. How dare I mope when people are starving, when wars rampage across the world, when cities burn, and mothers lose their children! Who am I to lie in bed at night crying? My husband holds me but is helpless to comfort me because I am inconsolable. In those moments, I allow myself to fall because I tell myself that grief is not a contest and there is no measurable way to compare pain, that even though others have suffered far more than I could ever imagine, my anger, sadness, and hurt are just as real.

I count, I breathe, I pull myself together because I have no other choice.

Am I depressed? Yeah. Clearly. There’s no denying that. My one and only solace? I know that my depression is situational. That things are generally shit right now, but it won’t be like this forever. I know that as long as I keep putting my feet on the ground every morning, that someday it won’t feel like such a chore. There are days when my smile is genuine and my laughter is not forced. And those days are slowly starting to outnumber the others.

I’ve said it before that I should have done an anonymous blog, then maybe, I’d post more about my life. Maybe if I had a top secret super blog I’d vent, I’d rant, I’d utilize an outlet that I honestly should have been using: my words. My chaos has been my own this year. I’ve not wanted to share it or talk about it here or anywhere, so even an anonymous blog would have sat unattended this year. I’ve got 31 more days to go in what I expected to be a great year. I have used this year as an excuse for not writing, not crafting, not doing and that’s got to change. Whether I post to a public blog or just jot notes in a journal, writing has always helped me work through my issues and I need to get back to that.

In 31 more days I’ll have survived 2014.

In 31 more days I’ll file 2014 away as a lesson learned.

In 31 more days I’ll jump into 2015 looking to exceed rather than endure. 

 

Scott asked me the other day if I expected 2015 to magically be better. Of course not, I said. But it’s like a clean slate. New Years is a tangible mark, a concrete, albeit human, passage of time. Time allows distance and clarity, healing and hope. Time, right now, is the best friend I’ve got.

This year I fell. Come January 1st, I will start standing again.

Committing to Commitment

I work better, I’ve found, when I have multiple deadlines looming over my head—even if they are self-imposed deadlines. So, I know I said back in October I was back in the blogging game, but then I fell off the edge of the planet again. Go figure. I blame my BFF Sara for that, although she doesn’t know it (then again, maybe she does, she is scary perceptive like a ninja). Sara is in her third trimester and I have gone crafting crazy trying to get my BIG plans completed before Baby arrives! So October passed in a blur of yarn and fabric and emergency poodle skirts. And I’m still not done!

So what does that mean for me? Well, November is going to be busy. As always. I don’t even try to pretend to be surprised. In addition to the crafting and NaNoWriMo, I am going to commit to getting at least two posts a week. They might be short, maybe just be a photo or two. But the more I have to accomplish, the more willing I am to manage my time appropriately and not procrastinate.

And Friends, I am a big procrastinator. If I started a list of all my faults, procrastination would be at the top. I totally blame my family for that one. As the baby of the family, I learned very early on that if I waited long enough, someone else would do my task for me. Heck! My mom and sister still do it! Remember that whole painting my house thing?

(Another fault, since I’m listing them, apparently I don’t like to take responsibility for myself. But I blame my birth order for that.)

But no one is going to craft for me. And no one is going to NaNo for me. And clearly, no one is blogging for me. So I’ve got to pick up the slack. And by pick up the slack, I really mean, actually do the stuff that I want to do: crafting, blogging, writing.

Of course, there is one teensy flaw in my plan. Work. Yup. Me working, as much as I love my job (and a post is coming out soon about that) it really is putting a kink in my whole time management plan. Although to be fair, there are a few things I can do while I am at work that doesn’t interfere with actually working especially during the slow period, but don’t tell anyone I said so!

I Made It Monday

So last year I made a valiant attempt at chronicling our year in a scrap book. My goal was to go from December 21, 2011 to December 22, 2012. I called it Waiting for the Apocalypse. I got to about March before I stopped. The problem was I take so many pictures that I ended up with an overwhelming amount to go through. I got frustrated and, not a big surprise, distracted by other things that were slightly more pressing than scrapbooking.

But I still liked and clung to the idea of scrapbooking life as it happened. And it was in the course of looking for new scrapbooking resources that I stumbled across a few blogs that were talking about something called Project Life. I traced the links back to a woman, Becky Higgins, who had hatched and sold a scrapbooking system that cut out time consuming layout dilemmas and matching papers.

Project Life is a streamlined system. Something I can take out and spend an hour or two with and put away. I liked that.

I did not, however, like the price tag associated with all the accessories. I’ve got accessories out the wazoo! Paper, stickers, vellum quotes and sayings, albums…and did I mention the paper? I’ve got a lot of scrapbook paper. I’ve got enough scrapbook paper that I’m probably going to have to include it in my will.

The one thing I didn’t have was the nifty photo pages (photo page protectors…what are those things called anyway?).

So I ordered some (FYI - Becky sells her supplies through Amazon). Just a small pack to see how it would go. While I was waiting from my package to arrive I spent my evenings going through my shoebox full of scraps cutting them down to sizes that would fit the photo pages. I spent hours combing through the photos I’d taken trying to narrow the ones I loved down to a reasonable 5-8. Five to eight photos to capture the week. Reasonable and doable.

Once the pages arrived, I established a routine. Oh how I hate routines (more on that later)! But I knew that if I didn’t establish a day to scrapbook, it would just collect dust like the Camping book, the Apocalypse book and the Birthday Fiesta O’ Fun books. Mondays, I decided would be the day. Mondays I go into town and run my errands. I do the grocery shopping, I pick up the miscellaneous things I need from Home Depot or Target. Mondays I would print my photos and Mondays I would scrapbook.

And, my friends, I do. I am. It isn’t overly elaborate or crazy with crafty and creativity but I’m getting what I wanted to accomplish done. And that, my friends, makes me happy. And slightly proud because really right now, I need to show that I can start a project and finish it.

Big Dream One: The RV Life

I’ve always been a big dreamer. I set my sights on goals that are almost unattainable like winning the lottery despite never actually playing the lotto. I dream of sailing around the world in my custom built 60 foot sailboat, The Hyperbole, despite the fact that I get seasick just looking at a boat. I dream of thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail despite my overwhelming fears of aliens, sasquatch, and alien sasquatch. I dream of opening a gaming shop with my husband even though we’d end up strangling each other after the first day or two. I dream of a bakery with Sara even though she isn’t nearby.

I dream Big Dreams.

Two of the most diametrically opposite Big Dreams have been at the forefront lately. One stems from my love of travel and sightseeing, the other from my growing desire to be self-sufficient. A third Big Dream is really the most realistic it's just a matter of pushing myself. 

Today I’m going to talk about Big Dream Number One.

Before I met Sara, home to me was a place. A single location where roots were set down and bonds formed in the community. Home was a tangible, unique space. Growing up, I moved around a lot. Maybe not more than a military family, but it seemed every few years we were up and going somewhere else. I hated it. I wanted a place that was ours and we’d never have to leave. Sara, however, taught me that home wasn’t a place and roots could be transplanted quite easily. Home is my family: Scott and the girls. If I’ve got them, then I’m good. It doesn’t matter where we live. I’m sure I would have figured this out eventually, but Sara, being awesome, helped speed the process up.

The longest I’ve ever stayed in one house was six years. It seems that maybe all that moving around in my youth stuck with me and I get itchy feet every three years or so. There’s a Tom Petty song I love, Time To Move On, and I am fairly certain he meant it to be my theme song because I always have this need to just go. 

Dream Number One would help to alleviate those feet. If I had any assets to liquidate, I would do so immediately, buy an RV (I really like this one and this one) and take to the road. I would love to travel the back roads with the girls and Scott exploring every nook and cranny this country has to offer. How cliché, right? But how very cool would it be to wake up in the morning and say, “Hey, let’s go check out Montana” and just go? How freeing is that? Today I feel like…New Mexico…Next week, how about Ohio?

If I RV’d my life I would certainly have to make some major changes. And maybe they’d be for the best. The appealing idea here is that not only would I get to travel the country, but I would have to, by the very nature of living in an RV, downsize my life. Go minimalist. I am the first to confess an attachment to my stuff: books, craft supplies, gaming supplies, bakeware, all my Christmas decorations! Gack! Just thinking about not putting my Santas out on display makes me squirm in my guts. But like wiping a blackboard clean, there is something very appealing about getting rid of everything. I’m not anywhere close to being a hoarder. I’ve seen true hoarding and trust me, it keeps me in check! And surely anything that I could not bring myself to part with would find a home in storage until I needed it again.

Maybe after a few years or so driving the road, I’d yearn to plant myself firmly in one spot.

Twelve for Twelve - Check In 3

Twelve For Twelve

Check in #3

1. Write every day.

-  Blogging counts. I mean I am putting down words and ideas. That’s not nothing.

2. Post to my blog at least once per week.

- I win! I declare this goal met! At least for right now.

3. Resume my daily exercise routine.

- Doing better on this but the exercise is still a bit irregular.

4. Better eating habits.

- Cupcakes are good for you, right? Milk, eggs, flours…all the food groups covered? And dinner is optional. 

5. Lose at least 50 pounds.

- Another three pounds down. How that happened with the cupcakes and skipping meals I’m not sure. Maybe it has to do with mowing a nearly two acre lawn with a push mower.

6. Organize my photographs chronologically.

- N/A 

7. Scrapbook more.

- I haven’t scrapped at all this month. I’ve got photos developed so there is the move in the right direction but as far as pulling stuff out. Ugh! I don’t want to clean up afterwards so I haven’t been willing to make a mess in the first place, which is actually going to be a problem because I have scrapbook I must finish before August that I haven’t even started on yet!

8. Write actual letters to friends and family.

- Win! Mostly. I’m still writing but not as much or as regularly this month. I also need to add some family into this as I am mostly focused on writing to friends.

9. Reinstitute Family Game Night.

- Still a work in progress at getting an actual regular night but Friday’s for some reason seems to be working out the best. A combination of no school or homework and a later bedtime probably has a lot to do with this.

10. Backyard homestead.

- Really proud of this one. In an effort to save money on building raised beds, I converted my old milk crates (that I used in my classroom) into planters. I’ve got six so far plus a few containers I had previously sitting around filled with tiny green things. The girls and I stuck to growing from seeds so we are just getting some tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers and peppers popping up plus a scant dozen flowers planted. I am really happy with this for right now. I’ve recycled and I’m growing things!

11. Get my favorite recipes organized.

- I added a few new recipes into my personal book: A shepherd’s pie and scones. I’m not very focused on this for right now, though.

12. Travel.

- I am sad to say, but until someone gets a job (hint: It’s ME) travel is going to take a back, back seat - let’s just put it in the truck - for now. The fact is, the car needs new tires, gas is too high and we are tightly budgeting to make sure we stretch every dollar. It sucks, but there it is. Finding a job, much to my dismay, is a high priority right now. Maybe once I get that settled then I’ll be back to this goal, but until then, I am taking this off of my check in list.

I Made It Monday

A craft that helps me keep in touch with friends? Sign me up! I've been making plain cards pretty with my vast collection of stamps and inks. A quick and simple way to brighten up some one's day!

Do you see that smudge?? I hope the camera fairies bring me a new camera soon!

I think that I'll color in some of the stars to give it a little pop!

On some I decorated an envelope to match.

Seven Hours and Four Days Later

Seven years ago, I was diagnosed with Pulmonary Embolisms (PE). Turned out that what I thought was a back ache was my lung slowly dying. Turned out that the excruciating pain I was having when breathing was my body screaming for oxygen, not walking pneumonia.

I spent a lovely week in ICU. I survived and went on a regiment of blood thinners and a diet sans most green things (although occasionally, I just cannot resist a good Caesar salad or tender asparagus). In the back of my mind, I am constantly scanning my body for any odd quirks or twinges that might signal something serious.

On Monday, after a weekend of intense deep cleaning of the house (we had a buggy issue) I woke up with a slight twinge in my back. While annoying, I attributed it to the weekend work and a possible muscle strain. I went on with my day. I brought the girls to zoo camp. I spent a quiet child-free day puttering around the house.

On Tuesday, I woke up feeling yucky. My back hurt a little more, I was still tired and groggy. And that was after I had actually gone to bed at a decent hour. I brought the girls to zoo camp and spent the day running errands. That night, still feeling gross and now mildly concerned about my back I vowed that I would get back into good habits and back into a healthier lifestyle. That night I blogged about my goals and promised myself to make changes in my life.

On Wednesday morning, around 3:30 am I woke up, still in pain and unable to get comfortable in bed. A warning sign flashed behind my eyes as I lay in the bed trying to go back to sleep. “Danger! Danger!” it flashed. You remember this kind of pain, my brain told me. I wanted to ignore my brain. I really did. But dutifully, I filed a Post-It note right in my cerebral cortex with big bold words in red: IF Deep breath=Pain THEN Go to Doctor ASAP!! Proud of my mental filing system, I got out of bed (there wasn’t anyway I was going back to sleep) and walked the dog.

After that, I felt ok. Not great, but not…panicked. Until…

My friend from work was hosting a Tastefully Simple party and as it sounded fun and as it involved food and being child-free, and as it was good company, I went. About halfway through, my early morning wake-up call caught up with me and I yawned. Big. Deep breathe in = Sharp stabbing pain.

My mind ripped through my mental Post-Its and landed on the one I wrote that morning. Refusing to panic, I acknowledged the symptoms that were so reminiscent of what I went through seven years ago. I went home. Told Scott and made arrangements to go the ER the following day.

On Thursday morning, I brought the girls to zoo camp and made the decision that I would wait until after I picked Cyra up to go to the ER. I was afraid of how long the testing would take and that Cyra and Ashleigh would be stranded. Obviously, I had people I could call, but I did not want anyone to panic. (I’m considerate.)

So Cyra and I headed to the ER. Scott met us there. And after seven hours of testing I left with a clean CT scan, a clean chest x-ray, a bruise from the I.V. line, and a diagnosis of “undetermined back/chest pain.” The doctor felt that it is most likely muscle strain, but that it was good that I came in because my Coumadin levels were too high. And as he said, “Pulmonary Embolisms aren’t something to play around with. And while there isn’t anything wrong with you, it is good to know that you are listening to what your body is telling you.”

Today I woke up after very few hours sleep, comforted in the knowledge that I woke up at all, pleased in my desired lifestyle changes and motivated to get started!

Back into the Routine

A couple of years ago I lost a good amount a weight. This past year, I have regained every single pound I lost. I feel disgusting and tired all the time. A recent blood test revealed a possible problem with my thyroid that I didn't have two years ago!

It is time for me to get serious again about getting healthy. So to that end, I announce publicly to the world, I will get into better shape! I have set a goal to lose 100 pounds. I realize that a goal of such caliber is daunting, but I know that it will take time. Obviously, the healthiest way to go about this is to be responsible and safe. A goal therefore of 2 pounds a week, according to research, is manageable and will be my aim. I know that at some point I will plateau as I did before. Hopefully, I will be able at that point to push through it and continue on to meet my end goal.

Dieting doesn't work for me. I've tried it. Blech! And truly, my problem is not with food (although I do overindulge in sweets about once a month). However, I will start counting calories again. And most importantly watch my portions. Counting calories and following protion guidelines worked really well last time. As before, I will not deny myself the craving, but I will make sure I take only a small portion as I have found that when I deny myself what I crave I end up binging on it later.

Also, as I did before, I will step on the scale every morning. I know that it isn't recommended, but it worked for me. It was motivational and made me confront my weight every day.

The biggest problem, though, is exercise. I don't. All of the activities I enjoy, reading, crafting, writing, involve sitting. I've never really be they outdoorsy, exercise girl. So making myself get up and get out is where the real challenge will be. It is really about motivation. I almost feel like I should make a reward chart for myself...if I do one hour of exercise, then I get...something. Not sure what, but something.

Anyway, I figure putting this out there keeps me more accountable then I was before. So on to tomorrow and a healthier life!

Cheers,
Heather