Moving Stories & the Absurdity of Grace.

Hello, Friends! 

So, remember a few weeks ago, we left Houston bound for our Florida home once again?

Well, we made it. 

We closed on a townhouse in a town we had only ever been to a handful of times, 

starting about 6 weeks ago. Seriously.

We were sold on this cutesy little coastal town and these sunsets:

I mean.

Talk about 'fire in the sky'. 

We are absolutely loving our new town. It is small (population of about 35k), 

and the Main Street ends at the marina. It definitely suits us. 

The Lord is so good to us in the most ridiculous ways. Listen. We have made near 'bout every financial, marital, and life mistake you can think of and the God who painted that sunset let us move here and be salt and light in a place with this SALT AND LIGHT! 

It's the absurdity of grace. 

Moving to this dream-like little community comes with some real 

first world problems and stories.

Actually, it's me.

I come to this little community with first world problems and stories. 

Bless these people. I hope they are ready for this crew.

We bought this place with the intention of getting some updates taken care of as soon as possible. 

It's definitely "outdated" by all home-fashion-decor-whatever-standards. This is so foreign to me. 

I mean, I go in beautifully decorated homes and I love it. I appreciate the work it takes to do it.

I admire it and I'm proud of the owners for making a house a home. 

But, I don't want to do it. I want it done. I just don't want to do it, 

nor do I want to spend what it takes to do the extra things. 

Makes sense, right? *I'm shaking my head at myself*

So, first things to be done are popcorn ceiling removal and painting every single square inch of this place. And I mean every square inch. I don't care to have popcorn ceilings removed, but they had to be painted anyway, so down with the popcorn! We decided to "rough it" on air mattresses until we got this part done. We knew it would be much easier with out the furniture. 

Blessing #EleventyFive is that Spouse's relocation package includes up to 

sixty days of storage for our belongings. 

This is amazing. 

Not too bad, right?

Well, in true Melissa fashion, there was a mishap. The second night of sleeping on the air mattress, somewhere around the midnight hour, Spouse turned over to hear and FEEL "SSSSSSHHHHH" right in the face. I'm guessing I over-inflated our bed? Anyway, the air blowing out of the hole was causing the pup to lose his furry freakin' mind. He was going bazooka bat crazy and 

Spouse and I were cracking up. 

The bed was deflating under us and our tortilla-flat pillows and 

we were cackling uncontrollably. I even snorted. 

Also, girls with ample birthing hips are not made for sleeping on hard floors, kids. 

That mattress was promptly replaced.

Spouse spent last weekend prepping walls and doing as much as he could possibly get done in the house before painters showed up on Tuesday. He also was working as fast as he could, since he had to leave town last week. Awesome. 

So, on Tuesday, when the popcorn was being removed and 

our house looked like this, he never saw it:

Our house looked like a scene from Dexter. Think less blood and more paint and drywall. Also, it smelled like an ashtray. The previous owners smoked, and although the house had been thoroughly rid of the smoke smell, scraping that ceiling down just aggravated it. Yuckafornia.

In the midst of all this crazy, my girls had their first day of homeschool classes.

They handled the chaos like pros. Only Jesus.

Let me explain this. I had to be out of the house each day, all day last week while this work was being done. And, I had to take my dog. It's boiling hot out. There's only so much I can do all day. A friend let me come hang out at her house and do my laundry one day (another blessing from the Lord!). 

I picked the girls up from school that first day and we walked in to this mess:

This was nutty. My kids were talking to me but I couldn't hear them.
All I was hearing was the voice in my head:
My Spouse is in Denver and going to sleep in a comfy bed and we are supposed to sleep in this house!? We can't even breath deeply in here! There is no freakin' way. I'm not wanting to spend a lot of money. Well,  get over it. Get out of here. Just go.

Plus, Spouse was feeling guilty so he insisted on it. *Grin*
We took ourselves down to the awesome hotel at the marina 2 miles
down from my house that has pet-friendly rooms and this right here:

Boom. Two nights right here, kids.

I can't believe I get to live here and I'm not even 65! 

So freakin' cool!

Oh. Check this out. Read this story and stay with me. 

I couldn't get my key to work in my mailbox. My cool neighbor came to help me and he couldn't get it to work, either. The girls and I drove to the post office (which my Spouse thinks should be disband all together) to see if they could help me. 

While waiting in the long line, I heard patrons call the employees by their first names. 

"So good to see you, Frank! Thanks, Jim!" Seriously. 

I'm all giddy cause the town-folk are on a first-name basis with their postal crew!? What!? 

(Our mail person at our other house is less than desirable.) 

Anyway, I watched Frank help two people at a time to keep one guy from having to wait in line unnecessarily. So efficient! Not at all typical of any post office I've ever been in. 

Sorry. No offense, y'all. 

So, this lady came out and said, "Does anybody need help with forwarding or pick up 

or anything that is NOT mailing a package?" Hey! Yes! That's me! I walked up, 

tell her I just moved and showed her my key to my box I can't get in. 

She asked for my address and said she'd be right back. 

When she emerged from the back, she said, "Can you go home?"

I'm confused.

"Yes. I can go home. But, then what?"

Are y'all ready for this?

"I'll meet you over there."

"What?! You're gonna go to my house?"

"Yah, I'll meet you over there in a few minutes. I'll go straight there."

Oh. My.

Do you know what this means!?

People who live at the beach are happy people! 

These are happy, helpful people and I LOVE THEM ALL!

She came to my house in 99° heat with her spray lubricant and some tools and dern if she didn't get my mailbox working properly and retrieved the Big Sister's Apologia Science book! 

Yay for the Coastal Postal Service!

Such absurd grace, I tell you!

Amazing, right?!

Now this. This right here is stressing my junk out.

I want my kitchen to look nice and I want it to be inexpensive. 

Not cheap. Just inexpensive. 

And I don't want it to take too long, either. 

I don't have the attention span to drag this jazz out too long.

And, there's the issue of my not caring enough about it.

My struggle is that I'm trying to be forward-thinking and consider re-sale value and 

long-term cost effectiveness. While being a good steward, I also want to be eternally 

minded and guard against the excess trap, ya know?

So difficult.

So, there's a few scenes from our grace-filled past two weeks.

Popcorn is removed. Rooms are painted. Remodeling bids are in progress.

My Spouse has painted so much since flying back in to town late Friday night. This dude works.

I'm watching him roll walls this very second while parked in a camping chair writing these words. 

He is grace.

I've scheduled the movers to deliver on Tuesday, bless their souls.

You know what y'all should do?! Follow us on Instagram @Spouseisms for more goodness.

You know what else you should do? Tell me your stories of absurd grace?! I know you have some!

Love!
Melissa

Snippets & Photos & Not-So-Breaking News.

Sunset Paddle in Englewood, Florida. 

Sweet Blog Reader's O'Mine.

I was hoping that would sound like Guns 'N Roses, so this post is a fail from the start. 

Read on at your own risk.

My last post was June 3rd. I don't even know. So much has been going on I don't even know where to begin. I JUST, as in this very moment, noticed I didn't even finish our road trip series. 

From May. Seriously?

Spazmatic Adjustable Blogger.

In true Spouseisms fashion, I'll bring you all up to speed in snippets 

& the ever-faithful iPhone photo dump.

'Member that time I told you we were downsizing and moving to an apartment? That was about eight weeks ago. I also said something like "I wonder how these plans will change as soon as I hit the 'publish' button?" Actually, it was exactly like that.

The view from the girls' room. Lovely.

A few days after we got moved in, my girls went to Carolina Creek Christian Camp and rocked it.

We've been in training for our second sprint triathlon. 

Our family reward for our first sprint triathlon was a trip to Englewood, Florida to the girls' favorite beach condo. We have gone for many years, but not at all since moving to Texas. We got to sneak out a day early so we were pretty pumped. But. It was an all-nighter. We drove from 3pm til 9:30am on 4th of July. Nuts. 

We got to spend some sweet time with Spouse's grandparents. Sixty-four years of marriage this month. Grandma doesn't know who we are anymore, but she's still pretty witty. She took care of Papa for a bunch of years and now he takes care of her. 

The photo on the left is from their wedding day. Awesome.

4th of July in Plant City with Uncle Jarrett. 'Merica.

We had a fab time at the beach. The water was beautiful and serene and all that is lovely in the world.

Seriously.

There was some Cranium shenanigans.

The annual Beach Family Feet Photo happened.

Because we're brilliant, we ended our triathlon reward vacation with another triathlon. 

It was not pretty, Kids. My spouse went totally beast mode, and I definitely finished. Ha.

Photo cred: Cafe Press

I saw a mom pushing a stroller at the finish line wearing this shirt 

and I decided not to do any more triathlons.

Settle!

I'm kidding!

Ish.

Here's what's up, Kids. [Expect my voice & run-ons.]

That's my oldest in the middle, helping lead worship rally at VBS. Such fun for her! So proud & thankful for the leadership there for allowing her to take part at the last minute. 

 A day before we were leaving we got a little intel that would lead us to make the decision to fly Spouse back home at the end of vacation. The girls and I would stay a "few extra days" to look for a place to live! (What!?) Yes. But, it was all on a "it looks like this could happen in the next 30-45 days" conversation. We knew it was a bit of a gamble, but it made more sense to do that rather than us get home and have to turn around and have to come back in a few weeks. 

So, my girls got to spend a few nights at a friend's house and my sweet friend, Debra, and I went on a House Hunters Tampa Bay adventure.  Spouse and I had been leaning toward an area of Tampa Bay that neither of us had ever even been to before. He mentioned one night when we were in the "dreamy phase" of the possibility of getting back to Florida. We liked what we saw online and started from there. 

Seriously. That's how this went down. 

I spoke with a realtor on the phone and decided to like her. When we met, I decided to just love her!

This photo is just to show my inspiration in house-hunting. *Grin*

'Member that time I was a spazzy house hunter? Not this time, Jack! 

I was on point with "Location, location, location" and Spouse's voice in my head saying, "Book it!"

The first day was about 10 hours of driving and we only went inside two houses. This was the first one: A three-level townhouse in a smallish, coastal town with boat slips available and across the street from the Pinellas Bike Trail. We are definitely not "fixer upper" types, but this one didn't scare me. The next day, we spent a few more hours in the area and looked at a few more houses. Five total. We made an offer on that first townhouse. Spouse signed the contract sight unseen. 

These "few extra days" the girls and I were staying became six days and this man was sure we were never coming back! When the negotiations were over and the home inspection scheduled, he knew we were going to be even longer, so he drove all night to get to us. 

We were so grateful to get to go to church together on Sunday in Plant City.

Church Selfie!

Then, there was more shenanigans and ballyhoo. 

They were crying at themselves.

We got treated to a nice dinner of shrimp & grits by my brother & sister-in-law! So fun! 

I think, since my bum was still sore from that race, I felt we should get a pic with this bicycle art thing.
I don't really know, check out Spouseisms on Instagram for more interesting pics. 

After Spouse got to see the home he had committed to buy and the inspection went as expected, we hit the road to get back home to our Houston family. I was anxious to see them and already felt like I had been away too long! 

See how happy we look? We drove until 4:30 the next dadgum morning and we were not so perky, let me tell ya! Spouse even went to work! He's a champ. I'm not. I checked out and demanded no one speak to me. I can't tell you at all what my children did all day. They could have gotten piercings or tattoos and I wouldn't have known it. But, worse, they watched that ridiculous H2O.

So there's that. We are looking at a tentative closing of mid-August. The girls are registered for several homeschool classes and volleyball. We found some youth sailing classes they want to take (because we are right near the MARINA!), but Spouse says I can't sign up for everything at once. Something about transitioning and home renovations and schooling the children. I guess. If you're in to that sort of thing.

There have been so many lessons learned and ways the Lord has made Himself ever-so known throughout this process, but they warrant their own posts. Hopefully, I'll get to it. 

Confessions of a Snob. Yes, Really.

I loathe pretentiousness. I loathe it. 

It is an inexcusable quality in a person to over state one's own importance. I mean, I know we've all got pride issues, but for whatever reason, this one just gets me boiling.

Then, there's Pretentious's cousin, Snobby. Snobby is always ugly and reeks. 

And, that's me. 

Not about everything. Not about most things, I think. 

But, I confess it. I'm a Beach Snob. I've written about it before and evidently, I have not turned from my whiney ways. 

So, we were in that Gulf Coast season of Sprimmer. Still cool in the mornings and evenings, but warm enough during the day to get excited for the beach.

So, a couple of weeks ago, we decided to load up and give it another go on the Texas Gulf Coast. I can't tell you how many times we have heard, "Oh, y'all are from Florida? Don't go to Galveston." 

But, I'm desperate and stubborn. Stiff-necked, if you wanna go Old Testament. 

I was so hopeful! So excited! 

Until we drove up. Then I was a snob again. But, I'm a nice person, okay!? 

I love Jesus and people and cheering people on and I'm hospitable and welcoming. 

And, I'm sorry. I really am. This is not a sorry not sorry deal. 

I'm embarrassed that I had to fight back real, actual tears of sheer disappointment over it in front of my friends.

Now, I need to qualify this experience and say it was a super windy, chilly day. The sun I was hoping to get was overtaken by the need to wrap up in a towel. None of this is Surfside's fault. :) Spouse, Big Sister, and our friend all had a great time attempting to surf, despite the frigid water and choppy water. I was content to be discontent in the littered, caramel sand looking at the murky water, freezing. I will say, though, it was hilarious. We were giggling about the absurdity of our surroundings and my attitude. I knew it was bad enough to warrant being made fun of even then. Ridiculous.

I don't know how they did it. That water was about 64°.

I was really making a concerted effort to find all the positives in the situation, so I made the decision then to respond to any questions about our beach day with, "I really enjoyed hanging out with our friends!" That's good, right?

Not really. My people are smart, they would keep pressing about it and before I knew it words like "Ugh...brown sand...gross water...junk all in the sand...never again" were falling out of my mouth. 

I mean free falling. 

Just. like. that. I sound like a snob.

But, you know- being me and all- I was not going down like that. 

"Never again" lasted all of six days. I kid you not, the very next weekend I suggested we go right back. Cause Surfside and I WILL, at the very least, be courteous to one another.  We don't have to have share recipes and have a secret hand shake, but we will be polite, daggumit. 

I've seen the Instagrams. I know there are nice places!

Off we went. This time, we took Maverick.

I mean. Really.

There was a bit more sunshine and not as much wind. Yay! That water was, of course, still freezing, so I didn't get in it. The Little Sister and the Pup took a little nap. That was cute.

Spouse even got a little ride or seven.
Of course, the better the wave was, the less prepared I was to catch the shot.

Someone made the comment "poor Maverick's first trip to the beach is here", but he didn't seem to mind it a bit.

For the record, it wasn't me. One of the girls, I can't remember. 

Seriously, though, he was loving it.

Really.

That right there is an adorable view.

Exhausted.

We weren't down there for too long, but it was a win. I got a little bit of sunshine and I didn't once want to cry. 

It may take a bit before Galveston and I are far enough along in our relationship for a weekend getaway, but I can say that I would meet up for lunch again sometime. :) 

I think I'll bring a rake next time. Evidently, the seaweed has gotten to the point it would make a good Alfred Hitchcock movie. 

Alright. Go on. Chastise me, if you need to. 

OR, go ahead and confess your snobby bone.

5 Things Homeschoolers Do That Are Not Awesome

I love, love, love the homeschooling community. Love it. These are some of the most inclusive bunch of independents you'll ever meet. Most of us love to include newbies and prospectives in our lives and convince them "You can do it! But only if you want to!" And it will look different than any other homeschool.
"You can!" is our motto. Patience is not a prerequisite! Someone say, "Amen!" Right now. Say it!

Also, homeschoolers, by and large, have a bit of a rebellious streak, a quality you need in order to go against the grain and I dig that junk. It takes guts to do life differently than the norm. Again. I dig that in people. A lot of homeschoolers parent well, too. They aren't perfect, but they are doing the hard stuff and that's worth something in my book. I'm not talking about parenting the way I do. I mean parenting their way, well.
People takin' Deuteronomy 6 seriously? I'm all about it.

But, let me tell you something. There are some thangs about my own kind that are just not awesome. And, I'm man enough to look inward and call us out on the screen for it! (It's a short list; most of what homeschoolers do is on the pro-awesome list.)

~Unschooling.
I'm just gonna come on out with a bang here. Fire the cannons. I know my deal is that I just don't understand it, but I just don't understand it! I am a pretty relaxed homeschooler. As in, our schedule is quite flexible. Hellerr!? Homeschool perk. But, I just can't go lettin' these yayhoos direct their learnin'! (Ya like that? Stellar writing.) They would direct their learning to Netflix! Now, when they were little, we were more flexible with this, for sure. They got all into horses, we did a unit study on horses. But, I still directed the process. I guess that was unschooling, but as they get older and college preparatory material, we've got to cover some historical facts that they would never "direct" themselves to. No on the unschooling here. Yes, on the relax.

Frankie says "Relax. Don't do it."
You clicked the link, didn't you?

~Not telling the ugly truth.
I've said before, I have made it my goal to put it out there. The good, the bad, & the ugly of homeschooling. Yes, homeschooling has been great for our family, and I'm grateful for it. Most days. But, I'm not going to paint this serene picture of peace-filled schooling every day for five years now. There have been more than a few days when I would've let these students be schooled by the Manson family. I don't believe that has one thing to do with homeschooling. That is a result of a houseful of sinners living under the same roof. (Church word alert: Sinners- those who are born selfish, temperamental, prideful, mouthy, prone to anger, & otherwise jacked up. Ex., your writer.)
That said, it gets more and more peaceful the longer we do it and the girls get older. The early days years? Yah. I quit every month.

I just think this is hilarious. Plus, are his glasses the cutest?!

~DEFENSE! DEFENSE!
Why are we so defensive about homeschooling? People are curious about homeschooling as a lifestyle. There are still folks (in Texas, no less) that aren't even sure homeschooling is legal! I have straight up seen with my very own corrected eyes mommas get a total panty wad over someone asking genuine questions about homeschooling. "How do they take the STAAR test?" is not the same as asking, "Is your kid too stupid for public school?" Be gracious. Good Lord, just like people. Come to think of it, this probably isn't a homeschool thing. Just a personality issue. These are probably the same people that complain about food and service and restaurants all the time. GAH! I can't deal.

Moving on...

~"Oh, Alexander Graham would be in 7th grade, but he's really a junior in high school." Listen. Listen. Listen, Linda. (I crack myself up.) I know, as homeschoolers, we tend to be a little non-conformist. I love it. But, when you sign Alexander Graham up for co-op or Sunday School or whatever, if he is the age of a 7th grader, he's in 7th grade. Tell him to humble himself and answer truthfully when someone asks him what grade he is in: 7th grade. Unless he's Doogie freakin' Houser and has a degree to prove it, he can hang with the peasants his own age every now and again. Also, if you or Doogie are always having to tell people how smart, mature, gifted, gag he is, he probably isn't as gag as you think. If he is, in fact, as wicked smaht (#BostonStrong) and mature as y'all think, the rest of us are smart enough to figure it out and make adjustments accordingly. Let other people notice the mature prodigy you are raising and offer to "promote", if that's even the right word.

POTUS or Doogie. Either will work. :)

~Being apathetic to current events, news, even some pop culture & trends.
I'm all for not assimilating to the culture. I get standing apart and all that biblical language. But to brag about not knowing about world events is just...Jerky McGavin. You shouldn't brag about not knowing about special elections or current news, you should apologize for it. I've had to do it. "Oh, goodness. I have not heard anything about that. I have been so self involved lately that I haven't seen or read a bit of news. What is going on with that?" Also, I have to chuckle when someone who uses social media (!!) claims not to know Harry Connick, Jr. is a judge on American Idol. Shut it. I'm calling Bull Honky. I get that you are trying to avoid all things "idol" cause it's a Commandment and all, but do not think for a split second that I believe you use Facebook and didn't know that jazz. See what I did there?

Anyway. That's it. If I say any more things that get on my nerves I'll be talking about the junk that goes on just outside this bedroom door. Ha! Like none of these goes on in this house!? Psshaw.

What about your own kind gets your goat?

This Is Not My Little Pony's World

{Source}

Bullying is never okay. Never. Ever. Let's get that straight from the get-go.

Here's the topic of today's discussion:

Little 9 year-old Grayson takes a liking to My Little Pony and carries a MLP lunchbox to school. Then,  as expected (not saying right, just expected), he was picked on and bullied.
So, school officials saw the lunchbox as a distraction and asked him to discontinue using that lunchbox at school.
There are so many layers here.
I'm sure my southern, no-nonsense upbringing is rearing its head.

Mom is spot-on for backing her son. There are times when you just need to take things to a-whole-nother level just to show your kids you are on their team. In a few years, when he's fourteen and sure his momma is out to make his life miserable, she'll have this little episode in her back pocket to pull out. "'Member that time..."
Mom is also 100% correct in saying that it is "flawed logic" to say that "saying the lunchbox is a trigger for bullying is like saying a short skirt is a trigger for rape." Absolutely.

At the end of the day, I don't care if the boy wore a dadgum princess shirt to school, that doesn't give any one the right to put their hands on him. Ever.
Please, for the love of Tonka Trucks, let's not test this.

I can't completely blame administration, though. I don't know what steps the school administration had previously taken to curtail the bullying prior to asking Grayson not to bring the lunchbox to school. I would imagine the teachers and faculty really were looking out for his best interest. Let's just make this easy on everyone and skip the lunchbox. The teachers I know would have offered to buy him a new one to make his life less miserable! These are [likely] not mean-spirited people. Most teachers I know are just trying to go to work, make a living doing something they love and help raise up world-changers as best they can. I'm sure they never saw this hullabaloo coming. Still, he should not be punished for his lunchbox. Bullying should be dealt with to the fullest extent. Period.

Like I said, I don't know what steps the school administration took, but I'd like to know what was really the "distraction" here? The lunchbox or the bullying?

That said--I have two girls. No boys. Although, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have allowed my 9 year-old to take the lunchbox to school. I may have [theoretically] even used some very old school, non PC phrases to make my point about MLP being primarily for girls. I can't say for sure, but I feel like I would have nipped this jazz before it went this far. I can say for sure that Spouse would. I can't believe Mom didn't see this coming. This is on the tails of another North Carolina boy's attempted suicide for being bullied for almost the same thing! 

When Big Sister was headed to second grade, Nana got her a really cool pencil box that had a light-up star on it. Although her teacher requested a pencil box on the supply list, I knew that a light-up pencil box in second grade could be a distraction for little girls. She was in no danger of being bullied over this box, but I know how simple things become a distraction in elementary school. I made it clear to Big Sister that the box can't cause any problems and then her teacher said it was fine with her until it caused a problem. *Grin* It was never not fine. The pencil box survived second grade. The point is, as parents, we need to have the forethought that our kids won't have. Understand that it's not always about triggering bullies, it's about triggering distractions.
This was not the Sister's classroom. She needed to respect it as her teacher's classroom and her teacher doesn't need any distractions.
The school is not My Little Pony's World, nor is the real world, and kids need to know that.
Not everybody learns to be friendly at the end of the story.

Another story. One of my favorite man-children (he'll be fifteen in a few days) was into a lot of pink when he was a wee one. He liked the pink Teletubbie, the Pink Power Ranger, and had a pink GameBoy. He was about 4. It drove his daddy nuts. But, they let him do it and it was good parenting. Because they knew [hoped] he'd outgrow it. (Right, wrong, or indifferent, that's what we were all going for at the time.) He did and he's very masculine today. However, I know that I know that I know, that at 9 years-old, scar this child as it may, that he would NOT have taken a pink Teletubbie lunchbox to school! Again, I call that good parenting. Now, at fifteen, this kid could rock a pink anything. Cause Real Men Wear Pink, right? Incidentally, we inherited the Pink GameBoy later on. :)

Now, I have discussed Grayson's story with my girls. I am not, as I said, advocating bullying by any stretch of the imagination. The discussion with my girls was about loving people, period.

I do, however, think that this whole thing could have been avoided at the kitchen table at home. This comes down to parental discernment. And, I don't know, maybe it's a hill worth dying on for this mom.

Let's hear it. What do y'all think?

New Community!

I've recently joined the moms over at Houston Moms Blog as a contributor. I'm excited to be a part of this diverse group of women: work-outside-of-the-home moms, stay-at-home moms, work-at-home moms, moms of multiples, step-moms, adoptive moms, and everything in between! I know very well I did not cover all the mom flavors out there, but you get the idea.

So, today is my first post! Eeek!

I hope you'll click on over there and see where I'll be spending some time!

Happy Friday!