Overcoming resentment...

Let me start here- I know I'm lucky. Lucky to have a strong husband who stands beside me. Lucky to have two beautiful children. Lucky, even, to have good, healthy genes. I do not forget any of these things. However...

I am continually hurt by the comments made by several women in my life. Comments about how "lucky I am that I don't 'have to work'" Comments about how it "must be nice to stay home all day". Comments about how it "must be nice" to have the TIME to read, bake, pray, etc.

I am lucky. Lucky that my husband and I share like views and priorities. Lucky that we are both willing to make the type of commitment and sacrifices necessary to enable our home to run the way that it does. Lucky that I can rest easy each night knowing that I truly feel that I am doing the very best I can for my family as wife and mother with where I'm at in my journey. And, yes, lucky that I DO take the time to pray so that I may continue to grow in this role and evolve into a stronger example of wife and mother.

I cannot avoid these comments as they come from my husbands' sisters. I've tried to ignore them or even to handle it with humor (i.e. "yep, it's a nice life, sitting around eating bon-bons all day!"). But I"m left feeling bitter. And hurt. And insulted. I struggle to take comfort in the knowledge that I am pleasing my husband and serving my family. More, I am pleasing myself! But I pray for guidance in letting go of my resentment. I wish I knew how other women did it, for I know I am not the only one who receives these unsolicited comments...

I am SUCH a girl... is that bad?

As I slicked on my new rose lipstick this morning (free, thanks to CVS... oh happy day!), my husband reminded me he'd be taking my car in today to get new tires. I don't think it ever even occurred to either one of us that I could take it in... he just always handles the "vehicle stuff". Kind of like he always takes the garbage out. Meanwhile, I always do the laundry. I always bake the cookies. And so it goes...

I don't really think either one of has real "gender stereotypes" in this house. And that makes me wonder if we're too "stuck in our ways". Or is it more to the point that if it ain't broke, don't fix it? I've been fascinated lately to read many other blogs with varying viewpoints on women's roles. I think that's what has gotten my wheels turning...

Turning my black thumb green...

I am KNOWN for my black thumb. My family teases me about it. I don't even GLANCE at the beautiful potted plants at stores. I've resigned myself to not attempting to keep anything but my children and cat alive! It's not that I don't like plants. I really do. Especially the indoor variety that doesn't involve much in the way of insect encounters. My track record is just horrible.

But I've set out to change that. Several weeks ago, I planted herb seeds in little plastic cups and lined them on my kitchen window sill. I have dutifully watered them and every day I look for signs of growth. I have been rewarded with tender green sprouts of basil, parsley, and chives poking through the soil. I cannot begin to express the simple joy this brings me!

Now that I've had just a tad of success, I'm ready to move on. I've requested a tomato plant for Mother's Day. The idea of a gift that will bring such pure joy, will save money for my family, and will help me have some quality control over our food sounds like just the ticket!

Wish me luck... I still worry my thumb could turn black again at any point...

A home-baked morning

My kitchen faces west, making it the darkest room of my home in the morning. Nonetheless, there is little I enjoy more than donning my apron and pulling out baking supplies every Tuesday and Thursday morning as my 3-yr old joins me. He eats his breakfast before heading off to preschool and keeps up a steady conversation while I knead and mix and measure... Daddy and the 2-yr old keep snoozing, and I cherish this time with my son. When I'm pressed for time, I often just bake up some quick beer bread and call it a day. The scent of fresh bread baking fills the home and reminds me to cherish the little things.

When my husband heads off to work and kisses me goodbye, I am proud to stand in my ruffled blue apron, with flour on my hands and my hair in a ponytail. I know that the man I married understands what it means to be Deliciously Domestic. And I have many women as my mentors and I continue to grow on my path...