My 30's are turning out to be my favorite

It's my birthday and I'll blog about it two months later if I want to. That's how the song goes, right? I am still all sorts of jazzed about Christmas, but since I still haven't decorated our tree or house and am seriously stressing out my husband by my lack of motivation and therefore have no pictures to show for it this birthday was extra special I couldn't let it go by without a blog post of its own. Settle in, y'all, this is going to be a long one (and if you just muttered "That's what she said," WE ARE SO BEST FRIENDS).

To start things off, Allie surprised me with a sisters trip to Atlanta and tickets to see Sugarland and Sara Bareilles in concert. Hooray! After making a quick stop at the outlets in Calhoun to pick up my birthday present from Jason (dreamy tall brown boots, thanks hon!), I met Allie at Ikea. This seemed as good a place as any to start the early birthday weekend considering that I had never stepped foot in this much talked about ohsotrendy spot. 

We headed upstairs to the restaurant first so I could try their famous Swedish meatballs. Can I tell you a secret? Lean in....real close now....they're just meatballs. Tres anticlimactic.

Armed with a map and the free measuring tape, we headed off into the vast realms of prefabricated glory. 

I managed to find the couch of my dreams (hello, Hovas couch, you lovely thing you) but as we neared the end of the top floor, my head was swimming. I made it about halfway through the bottom floor when I finally turned to Allie and said, "I don't care how cute or affordable this stuff is, I'm on sensory overload and I WANT OUT." So we booked it to the exit only for me to realize that I'd forgotten to look at a kitchen table, as I'd promised my NYC bestie, Robyn, that I would do. So, back to the top floor went we.

After a fruitless search in the table section, I was ready to turn around and go against the grain of the Ikea-imposed one direction maze and get the heck outta Dodge. My military rule-following sister would have none of it and so we walked through the entire top floor. Again. Have I mentioned I was already on sensory overload and my new anti-anxiety meds had yet to kick in? GOOD TIMES.

We'd gotten to the middle of the stairs leading to the bottom floor when I started looking for a quick exit out. The conversation between me and Allie went something like this:

Allie: There isn't a quick exit. We have to walk through the bottom floor again 

Leslie: WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE'S NO QUICK EXIT! THAT'S RIDICULOUS! THEY HAVE TO HAVE ONE!

Allie: Well, they don't. They want you to have to walk through again so you buy more stuff.

Leslie: NO WAY. NO. WAY. I AM NOT WALKING THROUGH THIS ENTIRE FLOOR AGAIN

{Sidenote: I may have actually stamped my foot at this point. I am nothing if not completely mature when under extreme duress.}

Allie: Well, get over it, Lu, because that's what we're going to have to do. 

{Another sidenote: There was much rolling of eyes at this point.}

Leslie: UUUUGGGGGGHHHH!

Annnnnnnnd, scene.

At this point, the angels smiled upon us and I looked to the right and saw a shortcut exit right next to their childcare center. Hallelujer. Crisis averted, we headed back to the hotel and then over to Phillips Arena for the show. It was, of course, awesome.

This was actually the very last show of their Incredible Machine Tour and so there a few pranks that night (see here and here), but one of the coolest parts of the show was a surprise that a local radio station put together. The last few months of tour took a tragic turn when Sugarland's stage collapsed in Indiana killing some of their  fans and crew members. To give them some encouragement and show support for the band, the radio station gave everyone a sign with some relevant lyrics from their song "Little Miss" and asked us to keep them hidden until that song was performed.

It was pretty cool to see all those signs go up at once.

The obligatory mid-concert shot, of course.

Sugarland always manages to work in cover songs so you never really know what's coming. All you Young Life folks, make sure you listen at 1:11 where Allie and I pay homage to our Mount Tabor YL roots.



Our weekend in Atlanta was pretty fantastic. Allie has a strong record of giving me amazing experiences for my birthday gifts and this one was right up there. Thanks, seestur!

Next up was a fabulous pseudo-slumber party hosted by Christine and Sarah. Hooray for girly time!
The birthday cake? Oh, they nailed it. Well done, friends, well done.

Hand crafted touches were everywhere...

I requested a menu of breakfast for dinner, one of my favorites. And you know what beverage goes perfectly with breakfast?

M'more mimosas, please!

Homemade quiches, Pioneer Woman's cinnamon rolls and fresh fruit seemed to make everyone happy.

And this?

This photo is a tangible answer to a prayer I have prayed for three years. It's missing a few more beautiful faces, but the women here have loved me, cried with me, walked with me, prayed for me, we've laughed together, crafted together, worshiped together and they've allowed me to step into their lives in a way that is such a rich blessing it brings tears to my eyes every time I look at this. They help make Chattanooga home and I am beyond grateful for them all.

Other highlights from the actual birthday...

This hilarious note from my mom explaining why she signed my card with her first name instead of "Marmee". Lordamercy, I love that woman.

Cupcakes from my work study students. Aged to perfection? I'll take it.

A birthday gift from my new friend Renee and a new favorite snack- Dark Chocolate Peanut M&Ms.

DIVINE.

And best of all? Coming home to the love of my life, a decorated living room and a delicious home cooked meal.

My cup runneth over.

Cynicism. It’s what’s for dinner.

They called for snow. “Massive storm coming in from the west,” they said. They waxed eloquent about the high pressure and low pressure fronts. They used their bright graphics and catchy slogans and assured us that we needed to prepare. “Head to the store now!” they said.

Ha.

I scoffed. I mocked them. Because the last time they said all that? Nada. A few flakes and one day of missed school for not much more than maybe a quarter of an inch of some stuff that didn’t even stick around for the afternoon sunshine.

So I didn’t make a trip to the grocery store {or Walmart, as the case may be. The one near the foot of the mountain is just fabulous, in case you were wondering.} I didn’t stock up on milk or bread or anything, really. I spoke in patronizing tones to my kids when they eagerly speculated about an early start to the weekend in the form of a snow day. I won’t lie, I hurled insults at the perky weather channel meteorologists. I giggled when Nashville { a mere two hours from us} went ahead and cancelled school the night before when the temperatures had hovered in the 50’s all day and not a drop of precipitation in sight.

Cut to today at 11:30 a.m. and my headmaster whispering to us as we entered the lunchroom, “We’re dismissing early at 1 p.m.”

Huh. Hmm. All righty then.

I gathered my kids back in the classroom, broke the joyous news to them and started the Friday packing up process. And then what to my cynical eye should appear but snowflakes. SNOWFLAKES. Falling slowly at first and then faster and faster. Before I knew it, it looked like this…

Not bad, right? And it was melting as soon as it hit the ground. So while I was a little worried and figured I’d better stock up on a few essentials, I didn’t exactly speed over to Wally World. Actually, I couldn’t have done that even if I wanted to because the fine drivers of Chattanooga interpreted snow melting on the ground as OH DEAR LORD, I NEED TO GO TWENTY MILES AN HOUR! THE MOISTURE! THE MOISTURE! Eventually, Jason and I met up, moseyed through the aisles, all the while planning to head over to Sarah and Kyle’s for dinner.

And then we walked outside and hit the roads only to find this…

Awesome. For the record, I did not take these while driving. Jason and I started out in separate cars but it became clear pretty quick that my Honda Accord didn’t have a chance when it came to getting up the hills around The Shore House. So we left mine safely {I hope} stowed away in a parking lot and proceeded to spend the next hour and a half trying to drive what should have been two miles to our house. In Jason’s 4-Runner, we were fine. That thing took a steep curving hill like it was just another sunny day in Chatt. And Jason? Never broke a sweat. Love that man.

So dinner plans cancelled, I watched Knox romp in the snow…

…took an evening stroll with my love and my freckle-faced monster in the falling snow…

 

…and ate a heaping plate of oven baked cheese fries. Hey, walking through four inches of snow will make a girl hungry.

Truly, I am giddy with delight and surprise over the afternoon’s turn of events. See? Cynicism pays off after all. Hoping you and yours are warm and snuggly tonight!

No seriously, I’m still here.

I’ve been pondering this post for weeks. Weeks, y’all. I’m not really sure why it’s taken me so long to write because it’s all good things that I want to write about. Perhaps because it’s a post that walks the line between honest and holding things close that need to be held. Maybe it’s that it has been so long in coming. Whatever the reason, it’s just taken me longer than I thought to finally get back here.

And then a sassy little friend facebooked me {yes, I just made Facebook a verb} and asked, “So, when are you going to get back on your horse named Blog?”

Ahem. Right. Climbing back on.

I’ve missed my little piece of the internet but the time I’ve spent away from it has been necessary and good and fruitful. The short version {to be expounded upon later, let’s just get all this out first} is that, to start with, the lifestyle change has resulted in forty pounds lost, a running habit regained and is still going strong. Well, reasonably so. I cooked a fair amount of Pioneer Woman recipes over Christmas and New Years that have played havoc with what you might call “healthy eating patterns”. But the Cheesy Artichoke Bread? TOTALLY WORTH IT.

In December, our time at The Mountain House ended and a move was made to a delightful area of Chattanooga proper just north of the Tennessee River. While I miss our amazing neighbors terribly, I’m not going to lie- I do not miss driving up and down the mountain or the thirty minute commute to school. The Shore House is our side of a darling duplex and I’m discovering that apparently I do better with smaller spaces. Nesting has been easy and quick and something about having to get creative with less space has kicked up the “decorating on no budget” juices.

But bigger than all that has been the reason I took a sabbatical from blogging last September. What I couldn’t tell you then but can tell you now, is that Jason and I were separated through the autumn months. Divorce seemed imminent, papers drafted but never signed. It was a hellacious time for everyone involved and I’ve never been more grateful for my family and friends. However {and how often is there a “however” in stories like these?}, there is a happy ending-in-progress.

God did a miracle, something I didn’t think was possible. He brought Jason and I back together. Our story is still being written and there is probably more of it that I will share down the road when the time is right. But this part, this little piece, I wanted to share with y’all. I am starting the new year with my husband by my side and with a marriage that is on a completely different trajectory than the last three years. And that? That makes it a very happy new year indeed.

God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.

Ephesians 3:20, The Message