• the one about how I am going to be in the photos

    We recently revealed to our kids that we would be taking a trip to Disney World in just a couple of weeks. We were so excited to tell them as we had been planning the trip for months. I wanted to wait until it was a little closer to departure before telling them since they just don’t have the best concept of time.

    I presented them with a large gift bag, and inside the large gift bag was another gift bag. And inside that gift bag was another gift bag. Well, inside the gift bags were also parts of the sentence that said, once put together, “We are going to Disney World!” The girls were at the “we are going to ______” part, and they began to get super excited at the prospect of going to Berry Winkle, which is our local frozen yogurt shop. In my two year lapse in teaching, I had forgotten how truly literal children are, and when you tell them you are going somewhere, you better be taking them right then, and in their minds, the perfect place would be to Berry Winkle.

    So when my oldest, who could read, saw that the card said “Disney World,” she presented me with a face full of confusion and quite honestly…disappointment. She really wanted to go to Berry Winkle. And you see, the grand finale of the present game was a paper chain that I slapped together moments before this spectacle with 18 links of construction paper taped together — one for each day before we leave. Shiloh, who is three years old, kept saying, “That was it? That was it?” (referring to the chain). Apparently, in her literal mind, a paper chain was not the “gift” she was expecting to receive.

    I will chalk this one up to a parent fail. It definitely wasn’t your Disney Christmas commercial where there kids start crying and jumping up and down and the husband and wife hug romantically in the corner. Nope. At our house, we believe that big moments should really be shit shows, and why change our ways now?

    We have all gotten over the initial shock and disappointment (on both sides), and now the kids are super excited to be leaving in a couple of weeks. They happily tear off a link of their paper chain each morning, making sure all three of them are there to take part.

    I am now in the thick of making sure we have everything we need prior to leaving. I just ordered a fanny pack, which I am probably inappropriately excited about. I have started thinking about outfits and meals and all that comes with the planning of a family Disney trip.

    It got me thinking about our last two trips to Disney World. We went once when my oldest was three (I wrote several blog posts about it, too). We went again when my oldest was five. And now we are going when my oldest is eight. I am excited to see how her interests have changed over the years. But mostly? I am excited to take pictures with my children.

    Yes, with my children. Not just of my children. With my children. Because as I was combing through our past photographs, I found a mere handful of photos that I took with my kids on our first trip nearly five years ago, and I didn’t find any of my children with me from our last trip. Sure, I had pictures of them with every Disney character and princess you could find, but none of them with me. They had picture-perfect outfits and exceptionally adorable autographed items and everything was just so…but where was I? Why wasn’t I photographed with them?

    There are two explanations for this phenomenon. The first is that I am the photographer of the family. I do it not only for fun but as a business. So when anyone needs photographed, I am the default person to get the job done. I am also a bit of a control freak and don’t trust my husband’s knowledge of the rule of thirds or composition or honestly just the ability to get the red box in the viewfinder on my face so that I am in focus and the background is not.

    The second explanation as to why I am not in any photos with my children from our last couple of Disney trips is that I simply cannot stand the way I look. There, I said it. Like a lot of women, I battle pretty severe insecurity regarding my appearance. I will take a photograph of myself and critique it up one side and down the other. I will find hairs out of place on my head, zits on my face, a double chin, a back roll, a chubby thigh. You name it, and I will find it. I will see a belly pooch sticking over my shorts or I will detest the way my nostrils flare out when I am really, really laughing hard.

    It’s a sickness. And unfortunately, it has kept me from being captured in time by photographs as I enjoy these memorable, fun trips with our children. My kids will look back on these photos one day, long after the actual first-hand memories of the trips have faded, and think, “Where was Mama?”

    And the saddest, silliest part about it all is that to my children, I AM the Disney princess! They think I am beautiful! All children think their mamas are beautiful! They don’t see what I see. They don’t see stray hairs or a muffin top or a double chin! They see their mama. They love me. They want pictures with me.

    They don’t know that there may be a part of their future that I will not be a part of. They don’t know that someday all they will have are these photographs. But I do. I do know this — and it is my job to make sure that they have photos with their mama. Thirty pounds heavier than what I want to be. Imperfect skin. Gray hairs poking through. But this year, it’s going to happen. I’m going to be in the photos.

    Here’s a little note to the significant others:

    Take the photo.

    Even when she says, “No, I’m too fat.” Even when she says, “No, my outfit isn’t right.” Even when she says, “No, I don’t have makeup on.”

    Take the photo.

    Take her phone and do it, or use your phone and do it. There’s no excuse not to be documenting what you see — the way her children look at her. The way they giggle when she tickles them or squeal when she scares them or the way their hands look on the back of her neck when she holds them. She will want to see these things. I promise you this.

    Take the photo.

    She may put up a little resistance at first, but 5, 10, 15 years from now, she will love that you insisted that she be in the photos, too. These moments are so fleeting. Appearances are fleeting, too. She may not like the way she looks right now, but it likely won’t be what she looks like forever, and her children will want to remember her this way.

    Please, just take the freaking photo.

  • The one about home

    Wow. It has been so long since I have written anything that I forgot my password for my blog platform.

    I have no real explanation for my absence except that moving out of one house, moving into a new house, showing and selling an old house and setting up a new house have taken up so much time and energy.

    And then you add in the end of the school year? Field trips and awards ceremonies and graduations and art shows. It’s intense.

    But here we are. Here I am.

    I came here without much of a plan of what to write about. I just knew that if I didn’t write again soon, I may never get back to it.

    Yesterday, I received a message on Facebook from a former preschool student’s mother. I don’t know her much beyond what I would see in the drop off and pick up line at the preschool or on Facebook now that they have moved out of state. She messaged me to give me such a sweet message of encouragement and appreciation for my writing and authentic glimpse into my motherhood. She said that my Facebook posts, which often show the chaos and reality of life as a mother of 4, helped her feel not alone in her life, also as a mother of 4.

    This was such a touching compliment because if I can be anything, I want to be authentic. And that message she sent me was just the push I needed to keep going, keep writing, keep sharing, keep putting myself out there.

    So one truth I haven’t shared yet (well this escalated to 6th grade slumber party games quickly, huh) is that when we moved into our new, sparkling, beautiful dream house that we labored over in one way or another for 3 years — I felt depressed. WHAT? I know.

    Yes. Depressed.

    Cleaning out our home of 7 years was more gut-wrenching than I thought it would be. Leaving behind memories of our children at certain ages and milestones in our lives that we can never have back was tough. Painting over smiley faces they drew on their bedroom walls and taking down our photographs and making it look like a busy family of 6 didn’t live there was really sad to me. It should have been exciting. I should have been tap dancing my way out of there. A lot of emotions gripped me, but none of them were the ones that I thought I would be feeling.

    This led me to immense guilt. How dare I not be excited for this new chapter in our lives after I wanted it so badly? How dare I not be thrilled to change our address after we dreamed about it for so long?

    I guess I just didn’t see it coming. It was such a highly anticipated event in our lives, and when the time finally came, I didn’t feel the way I thought I would. My brain never ceases to surprise me.

    I am slowly getting there — to that place where this place feels like home and the other home feels more just like a house that we used to live in. Rugs and pillows and soft lighting helps. Filling our home with family and friends and new memories helps. But really — time helps. That’s the one thing I know to be true from all I have experienced before, that with time, tough things get easier. I just get really impatient.

    My reason for writing this is for you. Just in case you ever have thought you were going to feel one way about a really big, important event in your life, but you actually feel a completely different way — it’s ok. I want you to know that I think it’s ok. You’re not weird or crazy or ungrateful or selfish. I’m no expert to be able to say that, but I do know that suppressing emotions or bottling them up or telling yourself not to feel a certain way is never helpful.

    I remember after having Noelle, even though in my heart I was over the moon and so in love, I cried in the shower everyday for two weeks. I know that my hormones were a large part of that and the crying stopped well within the typical “baby blues” time frame, but I couldn’t believe how sad-lonely-scared I felt following the birth of our first child. A child who came after a miscarriage. Shouldn’t I be on top of the world? Shouldn’t I not be able to wipe the smile from my face? Am I a bad mom? Through talking with others, and through prayer, and with time, it got better.

    So in case you struggle with the same thing — with thinking you should feel one way but you actually feel another, please know that I am with you.

    I am asked often if we are “feeling settled yet.” I usually laugh politely and jokingly roll my eyes with a response of, “Almost!” The real answer is each day, we are getting closer. With each box we unpack, it feels less transitional. With each breakfast we eat at the bar top or dinner we enjoy around the table (albeit a large folding table for now), it feels warmer. With each birthday party or holiday celebration, it feels more welcoming. With each first & last day of school photo on the porch, it feels more permanent. But when that first smiley face is drawn on the bedroom wall? That’s when it will feel like home.

     

  • The one about moving day

    It was 7 years ago.

    Luke had just graduated medical school. Noelle was a few months past her first birthday. We were preparing to move from Indianapolis back to Muncie to begin Luke’s family medicine residency.

    And we had no place to live.

    Other classmates of Luke’s had already found homes. Many of them purchased cute homes in quaint neighborhoods — some of them chose to rent. But at least they all had a place to land. We, however, did not. We were struggling to find something that met our needs, both in location and space for our family.

    We knew we wanted to rent. Afterall, we really did not have long-term plans to stay in Muncie — this place where both of us were born, both of us were raised, and where I went to college. We had experienced Indianapolis, and that is where we called home. We likely would be buzzing right back down the interstate after Luke’s last three years of medical training, and we would resume our lives where we left off.

    Finding rental properties that are not marketed toward college students is a difficult task in a college town. Luke decided to drive around the neighborhoods where we would like to live and call the realtors advertised on the For Sale signs in the yards of prospective homes. He would ask, “Would your sellers be interested in a 3 year rental agreement?” Many said no. A couple said yes. And I knew when we walked in, that this house was the one.

    Tall ceilings. Minimal carpet. Updated kitchen appliances. Large master suite. Cute yard. Great neighborhood. Yes, this was home.

    The realtor explained that the seller of this house would like to keep it on the market until mid July, and if it still did not sell, she would be willing to rent to us for three years.

    Luke’s training had already begun in Muncie by the time July came, so he drove the hour there and back until we got the phone call that the house was still on the market and it was ours to rent. So, we packed up our Indianapolis home and headed north.

    We quickly came to love not only this house but the community we had forgotten about. In the glow of the big city lights, with all the restaurant choices and shopping centers and pretty neighborhoods and high-rise buildings, it was easy to forget about Muncie. To forget about how it warms your heart to see your neighbor (or former student or best friend or family doctor) at the grocery store and stop in the aisle to have a conversation. To forget about how sincerely appreciative the small business owners are when you shop at their spots. To forget about the family-owned restaurants where you actually know the family. To forget about how it feels to reminisce about your friend who used to live on that street or about the park where you used to play for hours or…

    Most of us have a desire to spread our wings and make a life for ourselves. For many, that means leaving the town we have called home for most of our lives and seeing what else is out there. Lots of times, career opportunities are more plentiful elsewhere and the desire for a change of scenery is very strong. For us, it meant leaving for a few years but then returning. It was never part of our plan, but I believe it was part of The Plan.

    Muncie isn’t sparkly. It isn’t shiny and new. There are parts that are dark and scary. You could easily make a list of negatives — if you’re that type of person. You could also do that with any other city in America. Much of what we deem to be location-specific problems are really generational problems or simply human race problems.

    But Muncie is storied. It is historic. It is breathing again by way of businesses with prideful owners, community events with dedicated coordinators, a thriving university with an invested president, and a hospital with compassionate physicians (I know because I’m married to one).

    I believe that wherever you go, there you are. Meaning if you’re a negative person, you’ll be negative in even the nicest, flashiest, fanciest of places. If you’re constantly looking for the worst in people, you will do that there, too. If you’re an unhappy person, you will likely be unhappy no matter where you move. If you cultivate drama or a culture of gossip or cliques, you will find that as well, wherever you end up.

    But if you see the good in people? If you make the best out of tough situations? If you can find ways to be helpful where you are needed? If you can be just as thrilled by a beautiful sunrise as you are by a perfectly cooked steak at a five-star restaurant? I bet you will be happy wherever you live. Even if it is in Muncie, Indiana.

    So, almost four years ago, just hours after we left the hospital with our newborn baby, Shiloh, we went to the title company to sign the papers to purchase this house we were only going to rent. We didn’t know what the future held for us, but we knew we weren’t ready to leave Muncie anytime soon.

    And now it looks like we may not be leaving, ever. As I sit here writing amidst moving boxes and rolls of packing tape, it has hit me that this is the last night I will sleep in this house that was the bridge between the life we thought we wanted in the big city and the life we have created for ourselves in our hometown. Tomorrow begins a new chapter for us at the Tree HousE, just ten minutes down the road from our house now and a 22-second car ride to my in-laws’ driveway.

    While we don’t yet have buyers for this sweet little place we have called home for seven years, we know that they will come. Just like with us, I predict that it will not be the family that chooses this house but the house that chooses them.

  • The one about how to unfollow everyone on Facebook

    It was Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, and I was thinking about what I was going to “give up” for 40 days. I have done different sacrifices over the years, but nothing really “changed” me. Now, I am not sure that is the purpose of the sacrifice, to be permanently changed, but it certainly is a nice by-product if that happens. I have given up chocolate and French fries before, but soon after Lent was over, I went right back to my old habits, forgetting completely the sacrifice ever happened to begin with. This year, since I am going through the process of becoming Catholic, I really wanted to give it a good effort.

    I decided I was going to give up Starbucks. Not coffee, just Starbucks. I was going to Starbucks daily (occasionally twice daily). I couldn’t survive without it. I was forcing my three little ones into the car at 7:30 in the morning for the sole purpose of getting mama’s coffee. And then I would add on a piece of 400 calorie cinnamon coffee cake. And cake pops for the girls. And chocolate milk. Anything to make them happy to get in the car and go. It was an expensive and unhealthy habit– one I am almost embarrassed to admit!

    So, not buying Starbucks during Lent would be a worthy sacrifice. Additionally, the money I saved from my daily habit would be turned into an extra donation at church. I am guessing this will be around a $200 savings.

    I thought I had my plan all set when my friend, Christine, who is also Catholic, was telling me about her sacrifice — “unfollowing” everyone on Facebook. Yes. Unfollowing. Everyone. It seems extreme, huh?

    If you were a member of Facebook back when it began, the Newsfeed wasn’t really a thing. Facebook was simply a collection of profiles of your friends, and you interacted with only who you wanted to interact with, and you didn’t have a running commentary of everything everyone was doing at all times. When the Newsfeed became a big deal, it became a way for us to easily compare ourselves to everyone else, whether we really wanted to or not because it was in our faces. It was hard to escape. Everyone’s opinions. Everyone’s vacations. Everyone’s drama. It was all there. All the time. And some of us, like myself, got sucked in.

    I would check my Newsfeed first thing in the morning. I would check it in the car. I would check it on dates with my husband. I would check it when I was supposed to be playing with my kids. I would check my Newsfeed while in bed. I would check it during 3 AM feedings with Leo. There was never a time when it was off limits. Like my Starbucks habit, I, too, am embarrassed to admit all of this.

    It was a true addiction. So Christine’s idea of “unfollowing” everyone on her Newsfeed was intriguing to me. A lot of people give up Facebook for Lent, but I had issues with doing that. One – I use Facebook for my photography business. I post photos for clients, and I was worried about controlling myself enough to use my Facebook only for business purposes. Two – I use Facebook to chronicle my own life. I enjoy looking back on the photos I have taken or the memories I have discussed on my Facebook page. I also use my Facebook to share and communicate with family.

    Giving it up completely didn’t seem like a good idea, but removing every person, page, and group from my Newsfeed sounded like a great option! When I think about the negative side of Facebook, it all goes back to the Newsfeed. The waste of time, the mindless scrolling, the creeping on people’s posts, the gossip and drama, the envy, the black hole Facebook stalking… it would all be better if I didn’t have it in my face on the Newsfeed all the time, right?

    So, that day, I figured out how to “unfollow” everyone. It was pretty easy. It took just a few minutes to do. I instantly felt a weight lifted off my shoulders. The only person who I could see on my Newsfeed was…me! I also kept two bloggers who I find inspiring and helpful, and my daughters’ school Facebook page for communication purposes, but that’s it.

    My family. My best friends. My husband. Unfollowed. Additionally, I turned the notifications off, meaning that my phone no longer displays a red bubble with a number in it when someone comments on a photo of mine. You know that anxiety you feel when you see those red bubbles, indicating there is something you “need” to respond to? I don’t feel that anymore because those bubbles aren’t allowed.

    I did the same for my email. I have over 95,000 emails (yep, you read that right), but I turned the notifications bubbles off and now I don’t feel that throat-tightening, itchy feeling that I used to feel when I saw that number in the red bubble.

    Lastly, I turned off the sound notifications for text messages. I changed my settings so that my phone would only vibrate one, quick time when I received a text. It doesn’t make a noise. It doesn’t interrupt me. It doesn’t control me. I get to my texts when I can, and sometimes they have to wait.

    It sounds incredibly stupid to say that “my phone doesn’t control me,” but for the longest time, it did. I was a slave to those red bubbles and alerts. I wasn’t disciplined enough to ignore them when I was busy. I would often stop what I was doing and answer them. I learned this from Allie Casazza — just because someone knows the digits to make my phone ding or chime or vibrate does not mean that they have the power to interrupt what I am doing. I say that with love — as I know that most people have no intention of “interrupting” me or demanding my attention when they text me — and I am just as big of a “texterrupter” (I made that up!) as anyone. I love to send texts. However, I also want whoever I am texting to exercise power and control over their own phones and respond when they feel like responding. If I have a pressing, emergent issue, I will call. I should not expect a text message to be answered instantly. The same goes for people who text me. If there is an emergency or something that requires immediate response, please call. Otherwise, you may not hear from me right away.

    Lent is almost over, and I have already noticed HUGE improvements in my life, all because I “unfollowed” everyone and turned off my notifications.

    I am more productive.

    Without spending tons of time scrolling my Newsfeed and getting sucked into Facebook, I have so much more time to get things done. I am staying on top of my house (also due to decluttering). I am getting to tasks on my list that have been there for months. I used to spend far more time than I care to admit watching videos of women put on their makeup. I mean — fascinating, yes! But when I have a list a mile long of things to accomplish, I should probably put the makeup tutorials on the back burner.

    I am more creative & original.

    When you are constantly looking at what everyone else is doing, you are subconsciously being influenced. You start to think how others think. You start to do what others do. You start to wear what others wear. You start to like what others like. It’s just a herd mentality that we are naturally inclined to have. I noticed that my creativity was starting to fade and my inspiration was lacking. I was not coming up with new ideas to write about, and my mind was starting to feel stale. By not being influenced by others, I noticed that my own creativity started to skyrocket. All of a sudden, my mind was racing with new ideas — so much so that I had to start writing them down in a notebook so that my mind could rest at night.

    I am less envious.

    By the simple fact that I am unaware of who is on a vacation in Mexico and who got an amazing new car or whose husband surprised them with flowers “just because,” I am far less envious of other people. When it comes to this, ignorance is bliss. It is not that I am incapable of being happy for others, or that I am ungrateful for what I have, but it is amazing how jealous I can feel of people I barely know or interact with in real life — all because I am seeing their best, shiniest moments on Facebook.

    I am spending less money.

    As silly as it sounds, my Facebook Newsfeed was tempting me to spend money. Not only were well-placed advertisements capturing my interest, but hearing about the makeup, clothes, and household items that other people loved was subconsciously making me want all of those things! And there is nothing wrong with that…in fact, I love sharing what I love with my friends and realize that may tempt some others to want what I love, too. If that is bothering you, or if you are in a time where you need to cut back, please…”unfollow” me! I completely understand.

    I don’t have FOMO.

    Some might say, “but you miss out on all the news!” Or “You didn’t see that Sarah had her baby!” Or “What if you don’t see something that’s important?” Or “Don’t you want to feel connected?”

    Well — I am still informed of what is going on in the world because I have my news shows on in the morning (sometimes…). It has been refreshing to have a break from political commentary and criticism. I am not saying we should bury our heads in the sand, but a little break from all of “the news” can really be great for the soul.

    I am certain I have missed out on a few babies being born or awesome job promotions or fun events in the area, but I am learning to be OK with that, and it feels good to have power over FOMO.

    “Important” is a relative term. What is important to you may not be important to me, and that is alright! In my season of life, my children are too young to be involved in a lot of extra things, so our family just doesn’t need a ton of outside information and updates. We don’t feel like we are missing out by not seeing every event, program, camp, club, or sport registration. If a friend of mine is going through something that is really difficult or requiring a lot of prayer and support, I am sure I will learn of it via a call, text, or personal conversation. If I don’t know about it because it was only posted to Facebook and not personally communicated to me, it likely was none of my business to begin with.

    As for feeling connected — remarkably, I haven’t noticed any change. I don’t feel like I am out in outer space. I don’t feel alone (or any more so alone than I was already feeling seeing as how I don’t see many adults on a daily basis). I still have friends who I text with and see at my daughters’ school. I am still involved in my organizations and get to catch up. In fact, I am able to focus more on the connections that really matter to me, and thus — I quite possibly feel more connected!

    I have heard some say that they just selectively “unfollow” the people on the Newsfeeds who they don’t have an authentic connection with, who they aren’t friends with in “real life,” who annoy them with their dramatic posts, etc, and that is one way to do it (and I have done that before), but the mindless scrolling can still happen, and that was my Achilles Heel. It’s not that I was just wanting to ignore all of the people who may annoy or frustrating me. It’s that I was also wanting a break in the temptation to over-absorb myself in the lives of the people I care a lot about.

    There are many ways to “control” your phone and your Facebook, as opposed to letting them control you. The point is to take action. Just do it. What began as a 40 day Lenten sacrifice may very well turn into a permanent lifestyle change.

    Interested in “unfollowing?” Here’s how to do it:

    Note that you need to be logged into Facebook on your Internet browser, NOT the app.

    Step 1: Click the down arrow at the top right of your screen and click on “News Feed Preferences.”

    Step 2: Click on “unfollow people to hide their posts.”

    Step 3: Click on every person, group, or page that you wish to unfollow. You may have to go through the list a couple of times since it will repopulate after each “batch” you unfollow.

     

  • the one about what I have learned from building a house

    This dream began years ago.

    We were going to buy this beautiful 40 acre property just a couple houses down from his parents’ home. We were going to renovate the 75 year old house that sat upon the land. We would live there and be happy.

    The end.

    No. That’s not what happened.

    Sometime in 2015, we entered into an agreement to purchase the land and home. At some point in 2016, we began meeting with a general contractor and an architect and decided that the house would be better off demolished and built new as opposed to renovating the existing home. By the end of 2016, the contractor we had been working with for 8 months dumped us, leaving us confused, angry, and hopeless. At the beginning of 2017, we had a new plan, and we were the general contractors. The old house came down, a new one started to go up, and now, at the end of the first quarter of 2018, we are about to move in. For real. It’s happening.

    While this is very much a new beginning, it is also an ending to a very tumultuous 18 months. To say we have “learned a lot” through this process is the understatement of the year. We have learned an incredible amount of life lessons, and I’d like to take the time to reflect on them.

    1. Subcontractors are human beings, too.

    Probably not what you expected me to say, huh? It is no secret from past posts or my Facebook that we have had a heck of a time with some of our subcontractors. I have complained and vented so many times about them that I have literally grown tired of doing it.

    We were warned that this would be a difficult aspect of managing the project on our own, and all the warnings were correct. However, we are all human who are capable of making mistakes and doing wrong to others. You and I probably do it everyday. While we have had people fail to meet our expectations and quite honestly do things that we could probably seek legal restitution for, we are choosing to accept that these are instances of human error that we will forgive. It is for our own sanity and peace of mind that we let these injustices go. When humans build houses, there will be flaws. Things will not be done perfectly like they would be done with a machine or a computer. There is a certain amount of imperfection that we must accept. The unprofessionalism is a little harder to swallow, but we are working on it.

    2. Everyone has “a guy.”

    In our quest for the perfect subcontractors, we solicited a ton of advice from friends and family, both in person and on Facebook. What we found was that everyone has “a guy,” meaning that everyone has a person who they swear by…a person they would recommend for the job. We took many of those recommendations seriously and reached out to “their guys,” many times just to have no-shows, poor service, or terrible experiences. How could that be possible? How could our very reputable, solid friends and family have a positive experience with a person, recommend that person to us, and then we have a completely different experience? It seems to be that construction is finicky that way. While crowd-sourcing and getting a lot of opinions from friends and family can be reassuring and almost addicting, it can sometimes lead to more confusion, hurt feelings, and dead-ends. Many times, your best friend’s “guy” or your dad’s “guy” is not any more reputable or professional than the “guy” you find on your own.

    3. Your marriage will be tested.

    People joke all the time, saying, “Well, you guys have built a house and are still married, so that’s something!” And that’s the truth. That is something. I would say that Luke and I have a very solid relationship. We have been together for 17 years now. Our bond has been tested many times. We attended separate colleges. We endured all the financial, physical, academic, and emotional stresses of medical school and residency. We have four children and have had two miscarriages. And of course, there’s all of the other “normal” highs and lows of a young married couple.

    But nothing, and I do mean absolutely nothing, prepared us for what we would go through while building this house. It isn’t just disagreeing over paint colors or wanting different finishes on the counter tops. It’s dealing with unexpected setbacks with added expenses, and wondering where that money is going to come from. It’s managing panic attacks and anxiety and stress and putting on a brave face for each other, even when we are completely and totally faking it. It’s seeing your husband for an hour after work before he turns around and goes back out to the house until midnight. It’s shouldering disappointment and sadness from the children who rarely see their dad in the evenings and on weekends, and feeling personal resentment for all of the date nights we don’t get, the trips we don’t take, or the conversations we don’t have out of pure lack of time to be together. It’s snapping at each other over wanting the other person to recognize how hard it is to (fill in the blank: manage an entire home project, work a full-time job and then work at night at the house, do bedtime with four children alone, manage all of the household tasks and chores alone, etc). We have had many difficult conversations, emotional outbursts, angry door slams, and times where we have said, “I wish we never would have taken this project on to begin with.” But, here we are. Together. And we are going to be OK.

    4. Penny wise, pound foolish is a thing.

    We set out at the beginning of this project thinking we would be the ultimate thrifters — we could find things at bargain prices, utilizing closeout sales, overstock companies, and flea markets. That sounded like a great way to save money and add character to our house. However, we learned the hard way, many times, that sometimes saving some money up front meant having to ultimately spend more money in the end. I believe the phrase is “penny wise, pound foolish,” and I saw this come to life when we bought tile at a closeout store in Kentucky. We spent an entire day driving to this store, only to find that the warehouse was unexpectedly closed. Somehow, we begged someone to let us in. We had about an hour to make a decision on floor tile for several bathrooms in our house. We chose something that we thought was a good deal and went on our way. Even though the tile was a good price, we discovered when it was time to lay the tile that a large majority of it was damaged and could not be used. We ended up having to buy new tile for our master bathroom. I haven’t done the math (because I don’t want to know) on how much money was wasted on the damaged tile. Sometimes, it is better to just buy items from a store or specialized company so that you know you are getting a good product AND you have recourse if the product is damaged. Buying from a closeout place is tempting because of the prices, but if you have damage or any issues, they will be of no help to you.

    We purchased our stove and fridge from an appliance store in town that was closing. We got the items at a great price, and they are very nice appliances, but we have no recourse if the items do not work. So far, so good, but we had to order additional parts for our stove because we bought the floor model and a couple pieces were missing. What we thought would be $20 parts online ended up being a couple hundred dollars’ worth. In the end, we probably should have purchased from a store that was not going out of business, but the temptation to get something at 50% was too great for us to resist.

    Let’s not forget that your time is very valuable — literally, it’s priceless. So on the day that we spent messing around with buying the tile at the closeout shop, we lost about 12 hours of time that we couldn’t get back. When I think about assigning a monetary value on our time, it makes the cost of that tile all the more expensive and therefore even more worthless when we couldn’t used the majority of it. Time is not free!

    My husband initially did not make any allowances in our budget for paying painters or people to lay the tile. He figured these were jobs we could do ourselves to save money. We eventually decided to pay people to do these jobs (even though our painters left a lot to be desired and lot for us to touch up on our own) because we realized that the time we would spend doing these tasks would not only take away from the precious time we have with our children, but they also would pull my husband away from his job (which is loss of his vacation time) or prevent him from taking on moonlighting opportunities (that would cover the expense of paying a professional to take care of the jobs for us). Additionally, when you aren’t a professional, you typically have to buy a lot of extra tools and supplies that you don’t have just to get the job done, whereas a professional would have those already.

    It all adds up. Tools, supplies, time, etc. Sometimes it simply isn’t worth it (financially, emotionally) to DIY everything.

    5. Gratitude will make up the difference.

    When I think back on the past 18 months of our lives, I sometimes struggle to find anything positive to say. The big, major setbacks we have experienced seem to stand out most prominently, and they tend to be the first things I think about. However, if I can move those roadblocks out of the way, I find so much to be thankful for. When we have been at our lowest, most anxious, most stressed out, most down-and-out levels, I have had to dig deep to find my gratitude.

    First off, the opportunity to build a dream home is something to be thankful for. I honestly never thought we would have the chance.

    Thank you.

    We have worked with some really great, professional people, despite any who have let us down.

    Thank you.

    We have learned so much about ourselves as individuals and as a couple as a result of this process.

    Thank you.

    Thus far, this project has been the single, biggest stressor in our almost 11 year marriage — and in the grand scheme, that is pretty minor.

    Thank you.

    Our children will grow up surrounded by trees & dirt, a night sky filled with stars they can see clearly without ambient city light, and they will hear the birds and the wind and a coyote or two. They will have a memorable, happy life at their new home.

    Thank you.

    So for all of the shortcomings, the setbacks, the challenges, and the letdowns, I will let gratitude make up the difference.

    Thank you.