about being young and gray {making peace with my hair}

It happened this weekend. I looked in the mirror and actually liked the hair that I saw looking back at me. The whole story? I’ve mentioned it here and there but I have never put it all together at once. So here’s the scoop: I grew my hair out, longer than it had ever been. And I loved it. But, I was also growing out my natural color at the same time. Which left me with some crazy color variations. I finally had enough and told my stylist to chop it.  

Making peace with my hair has been a bit of a process. I’ve waffled. I’ve cried. I’ve driven my husband crazy.

It all started over a year ago when I decided that I was just about fed up with hair color. I hated the maintenance. I hated the itchy scalp. I hated the smell. And I hated the roots that always showed up much too soon. 

So, in an effort to embrace a more natural me I decided to ditch the dye. Well, I whined about the fact that I was gray an early age (It's because I'm an over-achiever, right?) And I drove my husband to insanity over the wondering and worrying about whether I would instantly look 85 and no longer be the young, sexy wife he knew. And finally he said to me, in all manner of husbandly love and manly practicality, "You're not getting any younger. And anyway, you're smoking hot and I'd say that no matter what color your hair is. You should just be you." 

Okay, decision made. But then I wondered, "Now what?" How does one gracefully go gray at the age of 33? The Internet only proved vaguely helpful, while I found lots of tips on how to make the transition, they were only geared towards women older than me. Which is why I've decided to tell the whole story.

This was a work in progress with my hairstylist. When the roots were about two inches along she did highlights with a fine weave. The goal was not to match what had come in, but to cause they eye to see lighter color everywhere. I was also growing my hair so I wanted something that could be grown into, without an obvious transition. And since then we just reevaluated every time I visited her. In the meantime I learned about color, and realized that a different hair color will require different makeup colors. The book Going Gray, Looking Great has some really good tips, so I read it cover to cover.

Embracing your true, real self is a journey. I remember my mom’s monthly trysts with the color, dye dripping down her forehead and fumes filling the small bathroom. I would watch, and even though words were never spoken I learned. I learned that gray is unacceptable. Loreal is. Every month it was the same, her silver roots indicating that it was time for a rendezvous with dye again. So it’s not a surprise that I followed suit. 

But now? I just feel like I’ve got better things to do. 

And that all brought me to my regular hair appointment a week and a half ago. I came in feeling so fed up with the light ends and dark and gray roots. Here I am that morning, doing the whole inner dialogue about the hair.

I decided to go for it. And while I was thrilled with the cut, I was also shocked. I know in some lights it doesn’t really look that gray, but in others it’s so very obvious. The combo of the new color without the light ends to distract from it and the new short cut, well, I was in full on identity crisis mode.

But something happened Saturday. I liked it. I felt like it worked. And I looked in the mirror and smiled about what I saw. I am finally feeling at peace with who I see in the mirror. Peace about my current place and season in life, peace over who I am-just as God made me. Growing up is tough. But it’s something we all have to do, one year at a time. 

Like it or not, this is who I am. Gray, salt and pepper, or whatever you want to call it. This is me and there is a whole lot of freedom in embracing this version of me, the most authentic version of me there is. I've learned that it's about way more than the color of my hair, it's about me-deep down. Accepting my flaws, accepting my age (35 this year), accepting me for just who I am. It's been a process that I've gone through since the teenage years, and finally I feel like I am there. Unapologetically me. Sure I've got stuff, stuff I don't love about me-stuff that is inside and stuff that is outside. But I am at peace, while still looking to better myself. Does that make sense? I know that my journey in life is just that, a journey. And I accept where I am, with full knowledge that I am still growing and learning, I'm not there yet. It's about way more than my outer appearance. It goes down to the core of me. 


So has embracing my true hair color started a revolution in me? I guess so. Whatever you call it, it's been good. 

now appearing: our new kitchen

Welcome.

It's new kitchen time. I have been so excited about this for such a long time, long before we ever set out to actually do this. Even in the dreaming stage I had ideas about how I wanted this kitchen to be. My gobs of Pinterest pins told me I wanted white, I wanted bright, and I wanted simple.

I think we accomplished all of that.

Now, to be honest-this isn't a full on kitchen makeover. We painted the cabs ages ago. We didn't get new appliances. And since we just replaced the floors a little over a year ago, we didn't fuss with those either. Sidenote: after a full year of living on our Pergo laminate I must say I am still in love. They are gorgeous and easy to clean-two essentials as far as I'm concenred. Take my kids- I think they're the bomb diggity, and all it takes is a garden hose to clean them up. Gorgeous? Check. Easy cleaning? Check.

But...back to the kitchen.

She is the kitchen of my dreams. Sure I wouldn't mind top of the line stainless appliances and all, but for what we have and where we are in life I couldn't be any more pleased.

Enough yammering.

We decided on white. Zac installed the white subway tile, which is ever so inexpensive. And our friend helped us with the counters. They are porcelain slabs, with a slight marble pattern. They are beautiful. And so lovely to clean.

The plates I've had for ages, but hanging them above the tile makes them feel brand new to me. Well, as new as old plates can get.

It's not a huge kitchen, almost galley like but thankfully not as narrow. But having it on the smaller side makes everything nearly within arms reach.

I converted this little end cabinet to an open one a while back and found a little basket to hold our oil and vinegar and such.

The lights are one of my favorite things. The large overhead was ordered from School House Electric. She's a beut! And with a 150 watt light bulb we have no issues with it being dark and dreary. Also, we added a pendant above the sink. There was nothing there before so I had to make do with a little lamp on the counter. That was fine, but not ideal. We wished we would have paid an electrician to do this long ago. It was surprisingly easy, and also surprisingly cheap. Win. Win. The pendant was a deal from Lowe's.

The vintage bread box was a gift from a friend. She looks just right at home here, don't you think?

And perhaps the show stopper is our new Elkay sink-it's big baby! Really deep. Like hide an entire meal's worth of dishes inside and you can't even see it peeking over the counter. That is also my favorite thing.

 Isn't she pretty?

Swoon.

And what's a kitchen without coffee?

And those open shelves? I do adore that. Especially with my lovely white dishes. I just recently added beadboard wallpaper to the sides and back-and that is one of the easiest projects I've ever done.

And now we swing back around to our dining area, which is conveniently located near our family room, which is also conveniently located near the front door. We live close together here. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

A few things I learned from this process:

Be patient. I'm so glad I took the time to research and dream for a while, it cemented what I wanted in my mind. And it helped us to source out good deals on certain things.

It's okay to splurge, at least a bit. The sink was nearly a budget buster. But I'm so glad we went with it. Years from now it will still be lovely because it's such a good brand. And the stainless steel is of the stronger variety, which means it's sturdy. That thing is not going anywhere.

Use samples wherever you can. I'm really glad that the tile store let us have samples for an unreasonably long amount of time. Having a few different options for counters was good, but living on the samples for awhile was even better. We learned quickly what wouldn't work for our house and our busy (read, messy) lifestyle.

And finally, don't settle for something you only kind of sort of like. I'm so glad we ran with stuff we loved. It makes the kitchen a true happy place for all. Especially me. And really, as the chief homemaker that's pretty darn important.

And now, let's compare-shall we?

Here is the kitchen, after I painted the cabinets.

And here is the update on that, with fresh white walls.

Also, a little bit on the open shelving conversion-which is long overdue for updated photos. But you see the new version above. So it's all good.

this mother's day, it's not just for the moms

If you’ve ever reheated your coffee three times in one hour.

If you’ve ever answered the question why.

If you’ve ever scaled Mt Laundry, only to find it reappear the next day on the bathroom floor.

If you’ve ever attempted to catch vomit in your bare hands.

If you’ve ever said some form of “because I said so.”

If you’ve ever mourned over the choices you made when you were young. 

If you’ve ever hid in the pantry while the tiny dictators yell. 

If you’ve ever given yourself a time out.

If you’ve ever cried over a hallmark commercial.

If you’ve ever planned end of life care for your own Mom.

If you’ve ever taught a group of eager learners.

If you’ve ever dreamed of making a picket sign and protesting in front of your own house. 

If you’ve ever hit a child with a popsicle. 

If you’ve ever picked a sleeping baby out of a crib, just so you could hold them a little longer.

If you’ve ever waited in vain for the positive sign on a pregnancy test.

If you’ve ever filled out reams of adoption papers.

If you’ve ever forgotten to fill out a permission slip, missed a school event, burned the dinner, lost your temper, laughed till you cried or cried till you laughed.

If you have ever done any of those, you are not just a mom-you are a life giver.

You are the ones who run and play chase. You are the ones who wait late in the night for teenagers to return home. You are the ones wait for God’s answers when the months go by long and the result is always no. You are the ones who choose to love and mother any way you can-whether you nurture your own children or someone else’s. You can slap a science project together at the drop of a hat, whip out a sort of homemade costume, and relieve a weary friend or daughter of her own offspring for a while. You are the ones who give life; you mentor and you love. Bottom line: you care, whether the ones you care for are your own through biology or through choice. And even when the equation is flipped and the ones you care for once cared for you, still you care.

No matter how you came into this whole gig of nurturing, and even if you’re still waiting for your turn, today I salute you: the moms, the caregivers, the life givers. Today I raise my lukewarm cup of coffee to you. We need each other, sisters, mothers, friends, grandmas, spiritual moms, our whole posse of support. We all need each other. So this one is for you-there is not enough dark chocolate in the whole world to thank you for all you do. 

today: be amazing

image source

Today it is my mission: just be amazing. Be fully here. Slow down and rest. Because May began and already the schedule is full and the days are packed. Those lists are ever long. At least to me. 

And I catch myself in a scurry from one task to the next, checking things off with hardly a memory of actually doing the task. Emily Freeman said it today, and it resounded with my heart: I am not a robot.

I can’t just move from one thing to the next, like I’ve experienced a lobotomy. At least I shouldn’t. I need to pause. I need to breath. I need to let my heart take a moment and just be. 

Because in the busy of the end of the school year and the looming of summer I have nearly lost myself. But the drumbeat of my heart is ever to do less and be more. I know I have to do that on purpose. I have to take a moment; time out, power down, in order to really live that out. 

So today I get dressed and put on makeup. I drink the coffee slow and with patience. I answer the call of the hammock in the sun. I see the dog's pleading eyes, so off we walk. We walk and we pause and we take a collective breath.

I’m speaking at church on Sunday, and I know that the enemy is conniving. He is working. And God is teaching me the lesson that I will need to teach come Sunday morning. And isn’t that always the truth? The teacher must learn the lesson before she can teach it. Because God in me, changing me, is what matters to affect the change in others.

So today, I purpose to be amazing. Even if being amazing simply means taking a nap and soaking up the spring sun. 

mothering is storing up treasures

Did you know those little acts you do as a mom matter? Lately I feel like I’ve been buried by the mundane. The life of picking up and cleaning and feeding and all of that. And with three kids in school all the live long day I can feel like I really am not doing too much as a mom. I wonder if my services could be better used elsewhere. But then they come home and reality kicks in and I remember that my husband works nearly three jobs and if I wasn’t there to put dinner on the table and clean the clothes...well, you can imagine the state we’d be in. And so I realize that, yes, in fact, it does matter. 

It actually matters quite a lot. 

In the mundane, in daily life, in the ins and outs of family life there are lots of moments. And there are those precious ones, the ones where you enjoy your kids, stop to treasure them, those are the ones that mark them. Those are also the ones that mark us. 

Jesus told us to store up our treasures in heaven, but that always seemed so other worldly to me. Like storing up treasures was something for later, not right now. But it is for right now, and the invitation we receive from Jesus, the one that feels like a dare, that one to store up our treasures in heaven actually has everything to do with our lives right now. It is as much about the next life as it is about today. 

Dallas Willard said these words about treasures in heaven: “Invest your life in what God is doing, which cannot be lost.” And that is exactly what storing up our treasures means. It means putting our focus on what God is up to, and it turns the mundane into an opportunity to experience the divine. Willard goes on to say that storing up treasures in heaven means investing in the “good of other people-those around us within the range of our power to affect.”

What does God treasure the most of all? Deuteronomy 32:9 reminds us that the Lord’s portion is his people. 

As mothers we have a very unique opportunity; we get to partner with God as we care for his people, our children. Living this way allows the things we do to count, and even be kept secure. It’s not just about bottling memories, it’s about placing emphasis on the souls we have been called to raise. It’s about valuing them, and seeking to see them from God’s eternal perspective. It’s about realizing that all the daily things we do, the ones that seem unnoticed and unmentionable are the ones the really matter because they are the things that ultimately build their souls.

Storing up treasures in heaven is really about sowing in the Spirit. Galatians 6:8-10 reminds us of this fact:

The one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest...Therefore as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to family of believers.

Our children belong to that family, just as sure as they belong to our own. We know that motherhood is euphoric at best and complete drudgery at worst, but even in the mundane acts of mothering we have a chance to store up heavenly treasures. We have a chance to build what will be kept safe. 

Don’t give up the good work. Don’t think you have better things to do. Don’t forget that eternal treasures are in the balance. And the added bonus is that as we treasure our kids our hearts will be right there behind us-that’s a promise straight from Jesus: where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Don’t give it up. Don’t phone it in. As long as it today, keep on dear mother, keep on. 

when motherhood gives us the blahs

It’s truly how we feel sometimes. It’s really how I feel sometimes. It’s the blahs, the doldrums. It’s a fight against the change of seasons and the growing of children. It’s just down right blah from where I sit.

It seems I can’t find my rose colored glasses anywhere.

And it’s in the monotony of motherhood that I feel as stretched as the day they were pushed from my body. I feel worn and their cries and fighting grate on me like nails on chalkboard. Squeaky tires. A rock in the dryer.

It’s on the days that I feel worn thin that I have to fight really hard to keep the end in mind. The toddler days are behind us but these childhood days, lengthening into adolescence seem to loom ever bigger on my mind. I don’t know how I will see them through.

And then I remember that I don’t have to have the answers. 

I need to have open arms, open for hugs and the embraces of sweaty school aged offspring.

I need to have open ears, ready to listen their stories-their heart-their tales of trials and triumphs and funny and terrible.

I need to have a closed mouth. Because, obviously they can’t talk if I never shut up.

I need to not have patience unending but the perspective that says these days, when the fighting is endless and the nerves are shot, are the building days; the days we build their souls, the days we feed their spirits and love them home.

Because this job, this job of mothering and raising and leading, is absolutely the most important thing we will do. It’s not a life put aside, it is a life fully lived. This career, though it doesn’t supply health insurance or a 401k, pays dividends in the realm of love and joy. Even on the days when we feel stuck in the doldrums. Especially on the days when we feel stuck in the doldrums. 

When no amount of bootstrap pulling can turn us around, we run hard and long to grace and Jesus who says he is enough and will provide everything we need for this crazy job we call mothering. 

And he reminds us that his grace is sufficient and he is more than enough for all that we need.

Because we are not just making humans, we are raising souls. We are raising an army, warriors who fall and fail and learn and then try again. And we battle alongside them, fighting on our knees and trusting God with the people he gave us. 

Don’t ever believe the lie that society tells you, the one that says you’re just a mom. Sure you make meals and fold laundry and roll through town in your minivan, but you are doing the most important job on earth. Don’t ever forget that.

And when those doldrums roll around we make the choice to get up, shake the routine and dance through the house with the rag tag, drive us crazy sometimes bunch the Lord has given us. And we say it is more than just okay, it is good. Even when it’s hard. Even when we want to fake our death and run away. Even when the bedrooms door slam and tempers flare.

He saw you and knew you’d be just the mother your kids needed, so he gave you to them. And you really do have what it takes.

Sometimes we just spend too much time focusing on what’s overwhelming us that we forget to see the wonderful that surrounds us. Or maybe it’s just me? 

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On a similar note, this pulling out of the funk comes by shifting my perspective to God, to his love and his grace and the fact that he stuck me here-and I have a mission.

Also, read In Praise of the Stay at Home Mom. You'll be reminded that mothering is the best job ever.

And finally, I'm really just talking about the blues-not serious depression. That is something different, something that takes more than just shaking yourself out of it. If that's you, seek medical help.

no-poo for my curly hair-the all important update

About the hair.

I know, you’re all dying here for all the all important hair update. I had a Facebook conversation with a friend over the weekend all about the whole no-poo routine. So it seemed like good timing to revisit the whole thing.

A long time ago I talked about going no-poo. And I still can’t get over it. That whole phrase, no-poo. It’s like my hair is constipated.

I know that isn’t even possible.

But it still is happily no-poo. 

It was February 2012 when I first posted about it. Lordy, over a year ago. 

Here are the details on my no-poo adventure? saga? journey?

I decided to try going no-poo after I started growing out my hair, and alas! it was curly. I was just as surprised as could be about the waves that developed in my hair-I had short hair for so long I had no idea what my hair was capable of.

I figured I needed to do something to care for my hair properly and was thrilled to find The Curly Girl handbook. And now, 15 months later, I am still abiding by the no-poo rules. 

I rinse out my hair, carefully, in the shower. I scrub my scalp to loosen dirt, product, and other junk first. Then I cup the curls in my hand so they’re not hanging down my back and getting all stretched out while the water is running through it. Yes, this is possible. And no, I had no idea. Then I grab some really rich and moisturizing conditioner and scrunch it into my hair, avoiding the roots. Right now I’m using something called Ren Cleansing Conditioner. I love it. It really does the trick. While the hair is loaded with the conditioner I use my fingers to comb through the tangles. Then it gets all rinsed out, I flip my head upside down and give it a good shake. Then I squeeze and scrunch all the extra water out and wrap it in an old t-shirt. I don’t rub it, and I don’t use a towel-both cause frizz.

After I’m out of the shower I work in a moisturizing curl cream and dry it with a diffuser with my head upside down. And because I love hairspray, I finish with a blast of that. I am a child of the 80‘s after all. 

Now and then, sometimes I feel like I need a good deep cleaning, so about once a month I use a sulfate free shampoo on my scalp. Or, if I’m feeling especially adventures I’ll go straight up baking soda and vinegar. Not together, that would make some sort of explosion. I mix about one tablespoon of baking soda to one cup water. Rub it through my scalp and rinse. And then mix about one tablespoon apple cider vinegar and one cup water, I rinse it through your hair, but not the roots. I actually premix this and keep in condiment bottles in the shower. And that is that.

In other hair news, I decided to grow out my color during this process-but that’s a whole other story. The short of it is: I have lots of gray. I’m tired of coloring it. I grew it out. End of story. 

(and here you have exhibit A as to why I always have my hair up these days)

Bottom line: I love my hair routine. I “wash” it once or twice a week. And usually at night so I can wrap the curls up and just go in the morning. The rest of the days I usually just refresh the curls with a water sprayer and let them air dry, or blow dry with the diffuser on low to speed things up. Lately I just pull it up into some sort of updo, to hide the crazy color transition. And that is all there is to say about that.