Birthday weekend.

2:02 PM

   We'll forgive the Mr. for taking pictures of me while I'm sleeping because it captured a moment like this.  Cue hashtag about heart eyes.

   Well the big 3-0 has come and gone, so i guess that sort of makes me 31 now?  Because I celebrated having lived 30 years, and so I'm already beginning my 31st......Ew.  In any case, it was a good birthday.  Randy was good to me as always, and we made the best of the circumstances.

   Circumstances being, that we had planned a little 2-night getaway in Portland (and baby too) and it was going to be a nice motel and leisure shopping and quiet and bliss and a break from two active preschoolers that I desperately needed.


   The universe had other plans when our little ones caught colds and it wouldn't have been fair to them (and mostly it wouldn't have been kind to Grandma, let's be honest) to leave them for that long.  So we just went up to Portland for the day and did a little shopping and ate at the Portland City Grill before returning home.  Randy had secretly planned for a few couples of friends to join us, and that was so special!!  One of the couples even made the trip down from Seattle, so it was such a sweet surprise.  He's thoughtful like that.

   I didn't get any cool pictures of the restaurant but it was beautiful, with a stunning view of the city.  I snuck this one off the internet:


   My actual birthday was Sunday and the colds were not much better.  If anything, they were a bit worse and I was coming down with one too.  So we stayed home from church and I was a little surprised at how I just couldn't seem to shake my bad attitude.  I was so disappointed over our "ruined" plans and that we were stuck at home, and that everyone was a little bit sick, and blahblahblah mememe.  It was so self-centered and ridiculous and not at all like a very mature 30 year old should be acting.

   I hate missing church.  Which is a sign of a good thing, really.  I so enjoy the fellowship and the worship and the good sermons, and it's all just a shot in the arm for the rest of my week.  It would probably take the measles to keep me home, but Randy is good at encouraging us to take things slow and get our rest when we need it.  And like usual, he is wise.

    At one point in the afternoon, Randy watched the kids (all 3!) so I could get out for a little while by myself, and I'm not sure who was more relieved, me or them.  I needed time to think, clear my head, and hopefully get a fresh perspective on things.  It helped.

   My moodiness made me think of Mom.  She always lectured me on being too much like Anne of Green Gables.  One minute I'm on the Mountaintop of Delight and the next I'm in the Depths of Despair.  She tried to live her life mostly in the plains, avoiding such frivolities as mountain peaks and valleys low, as far as emotions go.  And I suppose, for the most part, it's somewhat safer that way.  I'm sure I would save myself a lot of trouble if I aimed to be that way too.  But I never could quite shake the feeling that I WANT to be like Anne-with-an-E.  I like her, in spite of all her flaws.  Maybe even FOR them.  And I like her volatile disposition.  Makes life interesting.  It is annoying to feel ALL THE THINGS sometimes, but I suppose I am glad that I feel them.  Passionate anticipation.  Keen disappointment.  The key is to know how to respond to them.

   During our shopping in Portland we were finally able to find a rug!  And by we I mean me, and by "find" I mean, "make up my mind for like the billionth time over an option I thought of months ago".  So our bedroom floor is a lot cozier now.  I love it, but I kind of feel like she needs a name.  And try your hardest not to see it as a poor, sweet cow that fell from the top of the Empire State building or something, because once you do, you can't unsee it.

   I feel like I'm starting to discover my home decorating style, and I feel like I would get along famously with Mother Bear.  Like this quote from a recent post on Amelia's Instagram:

 "Ralph watched a lot of Little Bear while he was sick this week, and I took notes on mothering from Mother Bear.  The woman operates on maximum coziness levels, always talking about hot soup on the stove and pies that will be ready after naps, and I'm pretty sure I want to be just like her".  

   I usually just browse mindlessly through Instagram but every once in a while something stops me in my tracks and resonates with me for hours.  Sometimes it's over something quite profound, other times it's over a little silly bit of nothing, but sticks with me just the same.  And so it was with this quote.  I find myself asking, "What would Mother Bear do?" which I realize is rather silly, but still.  I want to operate on "maximum coziness levels" too.  And that is how I want to approach my decor.  Simple, but not sterile.  Clean, but not cold.  Lots of textures and textiles and layers and coziness.  Or at least that is what I'm working towards.

We're still a work in progress over here.

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