In which I celebrate a win and cry over my checkbook...

I did not do a lot of things this month that I had planned. (See: Life is what happens while I'm busy making plans) However, I did accomplish two amazing things - not counting the fact that I and the kids managed to not kill each other this month. That's a huge win... :)

Anyway, the first WIN was my National Novel Writing Challenge. I actually WON! :) It was not really a for sure thing until I got to the 28th. Then, with the AMAZING help of a good friend and writing buddy, I managed to crank out the last of my words. The Novel(s) aren't quite done (See: Last time I EVER try to write five novels in one month) but I've gotten a rhythm going. I think it might stick. (See: Cosmic Joke/Murphy's Law)

The second WIN was the balancing of my checkbook - well, OUR checkbook as it's the hubby who brings in the funds and me who ends up making sure I know where it all went that month.

I have a confession to make. This is the first time in my life that the checkbook has balanced out TO THE PENNY...

In the past, I've always missed SOMETHING and spent a whole lot of frustrating time trying to find the mistakes. Most of the time, I just said, 'Screw it' and quit balancing it.

Now, I think I've FINALLY gotten the hang of it. (See: Bloody, hellish math was never my strong suit) Don't laugh. I can add and subtract. I just can't stand the fact that it's actually a necessity in life. Most of the time, I love things that don't seem to make much sense. (See: Dear Husband)

For now, I'm enjoying my WINS and thanking God that I have a whole year to prepare for another NaNo challenge...I'm also having it out with Him that in order to steward HIS finances, I have to balance a checkbook every month...(See: weekly if I actually want it done right)

Whoever said life was fair, never balanced a checkbook...

Why did I choose to be the nerd in the family again?

In which I realize there's a lesson we are still learning...

I'm thankful for my family. :)

I'm thankful for the friends and support structure we have around us. We may have roots here in the Midwest, but the people in our lives give us wings as well.

Without going into exhaustive detail, my husband and I have been struggling (See: wrestling) with a decision. As we seem to do when life-changing decisions happen in our family, we pray (See: desperation, need, dependence on God), we sometimes fast, and we ask for wise counsel.

We also test God. (See: Malachi) Our whole desire as a couple, as individuals, as parents...is to do God's Will. We don't always do it right and we are far from perfect. However, we want so desperately to stick to His plan. So we call on His promises and we surrender our Tithe (the firstfruits of everything we have...not just money).

Then we wait and see how He provides - answers, abundance, life.

So this decision. We put up the test. Called on His promises...

And he decided to teach us something (See: Reteach, because we are kind of sort of stubborn and thick-headed)

Without going into exhaustive detail, the lesson that keeps coming back to us is this: That WE may plan our way. But the Lord God directs our footsteps. (See: Proverbs 16:9)

I haven't learned yet to Never say Never...

I get why God asks us not to make promises, but just yes and no. Because the promises often come back to bite me in the rear. Yes and No seem to be a bit more flexible for some reason. It leaves us open to God's Will as we are not held to obligations or guilt from broken promises.

It's an interesting idea this planning of our way. I love dreaming up the future and thinking over the big picture. It's just not always smart to keep those as expectations, not just dreams. Disappointment comes when I cling too tightly to my dreams.

All that to say, I think we are the semi-proud owners of a cat...

More details on THAT situation later... :-D

In which I reflect on the state of the union...

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I'm going to go on record and say that if you are not married or you are under the age of eighteen, I would strongly advise not reading past this point. This contains adult material and is not age appropriate for children, though I don't belive there is anything morally wrong with what I say here.

I am a normal, healthy girl with a bit of an above average, highly enjoyable sex life. And that is all I will ever expound upon regarding personal intimacy with my husband. However, for the purposes of this blog post, I wanted to make it clear that I have experience in this topic - not as one who spends her time in erotic novels wishing for ideas to spice up her marriage bed, but as one who realizes that all the erotic fiction in the world isn't going to do squat for me or my husband. In fact, it just may end up damaging our relationship when expectations and objectionable values drive a wedge between spouses who vowed before God to love, honor, and cherish one another for as long as we both live.

I'm sorry. Comparing one's spouse to a sadistic, abusive, controlling, psychopathic freak to "spice" up one's bedroom life is not my idea of a healthy romance.

I will halt my commentary by prefacing something. I have not actually read the 50 Shades trilogy save for the opening chapter of each book. (honestly, even if the sexual aspect of the books hadn't been such a strong turn-off, the poor grammar and context would have had me burning the atrocities) I have read commentaries, news articles, and heard secondhand reports from the readers of "mommy-porn" as to its general storyline. I have perused both the secular and Christian insights into this novelty (yes, pun intended) and have formed my conclusions based on that.

One other preface. I have read both Christian and secular novels with tasteful love scenes. I have nothing against the implications of sex in a fictional work because it is just that - fictional. However, I do take high offense to an author who's made millions on trashy, raunchy porn all because our society clamors for immature, poorly written material to fulfill their sexual fantasies.

It's no better than the pornographic websites we in the Christian world speak out against, and yet many God-honoring people justify it. Why?

An article I recently read is what set me off today. Author of 50 Shades of Grey, E.L. James stated that her novels were meant to be a holiday for ladies from their husbands. In the same article, a woman filed for divorce because her husband refused to pretend to be the novel's main character - Christian Grey. Apparently, her marital bed wasn't spicy or satisfying enough and her fantasies had dissolved into lust for a fictional character whose main goal in life was controlling every last move and thought of his naive and petty girlfriend/wife.

WHAT?

The husband in the newstory was actually hoping to expedite the divorce process for a variety of reasons. I will never condone divorce as an option, but in the husband's case, I almost wish him godspeed in getting out of THAT unhealthy, damaging relationship.

A HOLIDAY FROM ONE'S HUSBAND? Are you kidding me? I have choice words running through my head and none of them are pleasant or "Christ-like". Instead I will say this...

Sorry E.L. James. I don't need a holiday from my husband. Especially to fantasize about an abusive, controlling psychopath in a crappy work of fiction based on another ALMOST equally crappy work of fiction.

My husband is worth a THOUSAND of your stupid, immature fantasies. I will take one night with him over hundreds with the supposed dream guy in your novels. Nothing about that man you wrote is a dream - I'd call it a nightmare of hellish proportions.

I've also seen several commentaries on what the authors called "true BDSM" as opposed to the fudged version in Jame's work. I won't judge another's lifestyle, but I will say this.

My husband was my first and only partner. I have no need of the kinky and pain-filled fetishes and practices of that particular brand of sex to satisfy either of us. We don't need to watch porn or read erotica or participate in bondage and domination to find a spicy, satisfying intimate relationship. And I can tell you 100% that the relationship we have is healthy and pure. We are open and honest with one another, we love each other as unconditionally as two humans can, and our family life proves it.

Are we perfect? No. Are we always lovey-dovey and romantic? Not at all.

But I can tell you that we honor God when we come together and we serve one another before meeting our own needs.

This trend towards fantasy, fiction, and play-acting disturbs me. Mainly because if you can't find satisfaction with your lover alone, if you cannot be content with one another and give to one another without the assistance of a fantasy world - and a dark, disturbing one at that - what else are you unsatisfied with in life? What else drives your discontent and leads you to seek out alternate means of happiness or fulfillment?

In which I reflect on a thousand words...

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My dear daughter has spunk, attitude, and humor. Some would call her contrary (including me when the mood fits) and others would call her a free spirit.

My son is fearless, (except when he turns the vacuum cleaner on and freaks himself out - gets himself EVERY time...) fresh, and flirtatious. Some would call him stubborn (including me when I've had enough) and others call him determined.

I love them. And I love capturing their personalities on camera! So much is forgotten or missed when I don't. All the cute captions and smiles.

They tell stories with their whole heart.

And they both have BIG hearts. :)

In which I change up the routine just a bit...

All right. I have to wonder how many of my 'readers' are actually human beings and not cyberdroids pinging this site whenever key words pop up on their radars.

So I'm going to ask a question to see if I'm just flapping my jaws in the wind - or whatever that phrase is - or if my readers actually care what I write about.

Question: Are you human?

I feel like one of those weird scientist people asking if there's life on Mars and if so, is it humanoid or some other unknown?

In other news, I'm gearing up for NaNoWriMo2012 and if you're a writer and you don't get your hands dirty with this challenge, you ain't worth your salt. :)

No, I'm kidding. I did read on another blog post just yesterday by an editor acquaintance of mine - Jamie Chavez - that some published authors are a bit snobbish when it comes to NaNo. Apparently, it's not worth the time of day or it's an insult to all the hard work they do to think that just ANYONE can write 50,000 words in a month.

I'd say I was insulted, but as an unpublished writer, it just made me laugh really hard. Why on earth would I care what a published author thought about my taking up a writing challenge? To me, it's a great excuse for family members when I ask for more childcare. Plus, I get to mingle with other writers and budding writers on their path to self-fulfillment (See: publication, bucket list completion, general socialization with intelligent life after being stuck in the house with babbling toddlers all day long)

Yeah, that last one is me...so is the first example.

Anyway, I'm doing a half-rebel, half-NaNoer thing this November. I will be working on a new manuscript, but I'm also in the process of completely revamping my fairy tale. I'll hopefully be adding updates and insights into my experiences this month. If not daily then weekly at the least. (because I am human and have other obligations)

I'm going to be participating in some write-ins (See: a bunch of adults and teens/preadolescents getting together to stare at their respective computer screens/notebooks and attempt to create word art.), brainstorming with my long-suffering husband, and looking for childcare in exchange for good homecooking (See: blog post about budgeting/debt free challenge)

Along the way, I'll be looking for support in the form of love, prayers, money (See: start-up costs to publishing), and a lot of laughter. This should be great fun and a whole new adventure. I'd love it if I had company along the way (See: as long as you don't expect me to actually be social while my nose is stuck in my computer)

In which I discover that being a parenting pantser is an epic fail...

My daughter's preschool teacher just informed me that DD is rather contrary. As in, she likes to take the position of Devil's Advocate in most of the daily activities.

She's four years old.

In no way am I being disrespectful when I say that she is her father's daughter. Exasperated, yes. Disrespectful, no. I try to laugh when I discover the arguments between my DH and I are all because he decided he wanted to shake things up by taking the opposing side. Even though he agreed that I was right...

GAH!

So I can call my little darling a free thinker, or I can get panicked that she's got a stubborn streak a mile wide and it's mostly my fault.

For one, I've got the same stubborn streak - and it sucks.

Two, I have discovered recently that I've been parenting the same way I do pretty much everything else in life.

By the seat of my pants.

The funny thing is, pantsing parenthood just doesn't seem to work all that well. I mean, who'd have thought that quick reactions, too much flexibilty, and a lack of consistency in routine and disciplien would have such a hugely detrimental effect on a child?

Thing is, we started out pretty good. I remember, I didn't lose my temper with DD in the first two years of her life. Not once. I was calm, cool, collected, and I even did the consistency thing.

Then we stopped moving around the country and settled down in a small midwestern town. I'm amused at the irony of that statement. The instant we get into a stable environment, my carefully planned parenting goes OUT the window.

Of course, it might have had something to do with the arrival of the second child. He did manage to shake our world up a bit.

I'm a writer. I don't really follow a schedule, outlines screw me up (unless I outline after the manuscript is written), every day my writing looks a little different. I'm not one to follow the norm, and I love being flexible with my time and resources. (Hence the getting out of debt so we CAN be more flexible with resources)...

The point is, I'm a pantser. I like not having a plan. Sure, a to-do list once in a while is okay and I don't mind having a vague schedule - especially if there are non-negotiables in the calendar. However, most of these issues are - strangely enough - negotiable, and more like guidelines anyway.

I injured myself recently and don't like the limitations that puts on me. However, I much prefer socializing, writing, playing, and reading to cleaning, appointments, and structure.

I agree, I can take it to the extreme of laziness. For the most part, however, it's just the way I thrive the most. Lost in a sort of offbeat rhythm, each day a different song to sing and dance to. I'm okay with the unknown and I love the excitement of spontaneity.

Parenting, therefore, is a huge weak spot for me. I'm not ashamed to admit it, but it does land like a cold dose of reality in my gut. I wanted to be a mom my whole life, and I don't think I'm doing that good a job at it. In part because of the epic failure of pantsing it and in part because I just didn't have realistic expectations of what my mommyhood was going to look like.

I'm Sarah, and I'm a pantser parent.

HELP!

In which I lament the forced laziness and wonder why I'm lamenting...

As a person whose natural tendencies sway toward laziness, you'd think a two week hiatus from heavy lifting, exertion, and work would sound like heaven.
Note to self: When the desire to be lazy gets overwhelming, remember not to injure myself in such a debilitating way. It's NOT WORTH IT...
I fell in the beginning of October. Some of my readers may already know the story, but I will not be sharing the embarrassing details on this blog. I'm just not that masochistic. The only thing you need to know about this story is that I fell. The resulting impact left me with a bruised and swollen left arm and a bruised and swollen right knee. And some major skin wounds that bled more when the scabs rubbed off on my clothing than the initial period of wounding.
Now they just itch like crazy.
But my arm and leg both still hurt - a LOT.
I'm okay with pain. I just did Tough Mudder last month, I've birthed two almost nine pound babies without the help of drugs, and I was in the ROTC for a short stint in college. I'm not a victim when it comes to pain and I usually don't let it slow me down.
Except of course when it gives me no other choice because it's screaming that its presence is necessary to remind me of the healing process taking place in some important joints and muscles.
Who'd a thunk it?
The first few days I thought, cool! Now DH can't complain that nothing is getting done around the house, because I have a darn good excuse.
Day four rolled around and I was starting to miss sleep. My arm and leg still hurt like crazy and do you know how difficult it is to chase a two year old around when you're crippled? I don't recommend it.
Day seven rolled by and I wanted to tear my hair out with the pain, insomnia, children who take advantage of their poor, injured mother's limitations, and a husband who left thinly veiled rebukes about the dirtiness of the house. Even though he said he understood.
It's day eleven. And I want to go into my garden and rip up all the old vines and plants by their roots...with BOTH hands.
In the realm of human limitations, I can't.
I have never felt so lazy, nor have I felt so powerless and incompetent than I have for the last eleven days...
Did I mention my kids have been sick throughout this whole ordeal? And my DH is working a lot of overtime.
God, if you keep me from EVER harming myself like that again, I promise I will never be lazy or use laziness as an excuse for why my house is not clean.
And I will clean my house on a regular basis too...just to sweeten the deal.

A Love Letter to My Husband...

How do I love you? Let me count the ways...
I love that even though you work 50-70 hours a week, you still come home in the evening and play with our kids - who have been missing you like crazy all day long and loudly proclaim it.
I love that you unload AND load the dishwasher when I ask you out of desperation as I'm frantically trying to finish dinner in time for us to eat BEFORE the kids have to go to bed.
I love that you don't say a word when your work pants haven't been washed for two weeks and you still manage to wear them two or three times before I get to the lingering piles of laundry - that you trip over when you come home late from work.
I love that you have been patient with my mood swings, hormonal changes, and depressive phases - and you still want to have more babies with me even knowing what pregnancy does to said hormones and mood swings.
I love that you experiment with making food - and you don't give up until you actually make me something that's edible.
I love that you decided to shave your face until we got out of debt - even though you know I like you better with the facial hair.
I love that you are okay with me staying home and writing instead of using the degree I got into debt to get - so that some day in the future, I might actually bring in an income from the career of my dreams. Even though said debt is being paid off by your 50-70 hours a week.
I love that you said amen at the end of your speech at our wedding. Regardless of how much it made me laugh, it was SO apropos. So let it be...
I love that you are so desperate to be a good father to your daughter and son that you are willing to bend over backwards for them - even when you are tired and worn out.
I love that you don't care whether the housework is done as long as our kids are taken care of and loved - and my writing gets done...
I love that you read my stories - or force me to read them to you. It's good practice.
I love you for your off the wall humor and your visionary, questing spirit.
I love you.

It's Official...

I am now a Tough Mudder. I completed an 11.5 mile course of obstacles - some built for speed, stamina, endurance, and strength. Others were built JUST for the sake of torture and pain. I did it. I accomplished what I once imagined to be an impossible feat - for me - and I conquered my fears. By God's amazing Grace.

Electric wires harnessing 10,000 volts of pure energy just waiting for an unsuspecting fool to waltz through?

Not a problem...in fact, my lower back hasn't experienced any pain or discomfort since. That was almost three weeks ago.

Running straight up a 20 foot tall half pipe that's been drenched in mud and sweat?

Easy. You just keep running and DON'T - under any circumstance - stop.

15 foot drop into a muddy pool of icy water?

After an initial wig out, you just jump and make sure your eyes are closed when you hit the water - which feels like a cold block of marble.

Miles of slogging through dark, smelly mud, some of it up to your waist? Fording a river whose bottom is either not touchable or so slimy you wonder if you're going to get some sort of disease from the muck - so you don't touch it anyway? Jumping into a literal ice bath and actually having to dunk your head under to get past a wooden board? Running uphill in a zigzag fashion as you bake in the sun or shiver in the cool breeze, hoping that you'll lose the five pounds of mud you gained along the way? Choking and hacking through a field of burning hay when your eyes are stinging and your lungs feel like they're being flame-broiled?

Yup. I CAN and DID do that! :)

And I loved every exhausting, exhilarating minute of it.

The only thing I could come close to describing that sensation of accomplishment and triumph was wrapped up in the emotional high I got right after delivering our two beautiful children into the world.

On top of the world. :-)

The best part about this run though?

I contributed to an amazing and rewarding organization dedicated to ministering to Wounded Warriors. Tough Mudder supports fallen soldiers and veterans whose lives have been forever altered by war. Having MANY family members who've served in our military, I can say that this was deeply personal for me. While I may never fight in the frontlines, I wanted this run to be my memorial to the family and friends who HAVE. I actually wrote a poem in honor of my veterans, though for purposes of publication, I cannot publish it on here until after November. I hope to be able to share it with my readers once the rights have reverted back to me!

To my family and friends who've given their all to fight for my freedoms, I honor your sacrifice.

I hope to run again next year! And every year after that for as long as my body allows.