a moment in the sun.

We are in the long process of installing our own hardwood floors.
Well, let me say Eric and a friend of his from work are in the long process. But they are both engineers, so best leave it to the pros, right?...
Anyway, I've dreamed of new hardwoods for years now. Years. And they are finally here in boxes all over the house. Strand bamboo. A lovely shade that's not too dark and not too light. Just perfect.
We've been in this house ten years now. The white carpet hasn't been "white" for years...after eight years of Maggie, and almost two years of Sammy, and the pets the previous owners had, and two messy adults and one messy child... No, the carpets are a lovely shade of dirty now.
And let me tell you - it's glorious to see it go. I can almost hear the choirs singing...
Sammy is pretty happy about this new flooring as well.
She gave it a good "test drive" yesterday when the sun was streaming in the front door windows, and that new hardwood flooring got nice and toasty...
I think she's just as pleased with it as the rest of us.
And I think you'll be seeing plenty more photos of Sammy and Max in the sun. :)

the introvert.

It took me over a year. 

We've had her over a year now...

And I've finally figured it out...

She's an introvert.

My introvert self picked out the introvert dog.

Eric picked Maggie long before we ever met, and Maggie was crazy and always had to be around other people. Always. She was glued to someone. Anyone who'd let her tag along.

But this Sammy girl...

It puzzled me for months.

She'd come snuggle on the couch for a few minutes and then hop off and wander away.

I'd eventually get up and find her, wondering where the heck she went - wondering why she would just get up and leave my company. (Okay, yeah, I was kinda taking it a tiny bit personally...crazy dog owner, I know.)

And I'd always find her laying around in the living room, or on the living room couch, or happily hanging out in her kennel in Eric's office.

Perfectly content to be alone.

One night this week she went to bed with Max but when he got up to come into our room (yep, still working that problem) Sammy got out and happily camped-out and slept the rest of the night on the couch downstairs. Maggie would have been whining outside our door all night long if she hadn't been able to go to bed with her favorite person - dad. 

Yep, the extrovert "dad" chose the extrovert dog, Maggie.

And this highly introverted "mom" chose this introvert dog, Sammy Sue.

I get it Samsters.

It's nice to be alone sometimes.

It can be the most peaceful feeling in the world.

this thing lately.

And if I were fearless, 

then I'd speak my truth

and the world would hear this

That's what I wish I'd do, yeah.

~Sara Bareilles~

I've been doing this thing lately...
I've been working on learning to speak my truth.
I've been regularly going to sit on "the couch of angst" as the person I pay to talk to, listen to my story, and provide some guidance, likes to call it. I'll just call her a mentor of sorts - that has a nicer ring to it than that other word.
It's been hard work. Some days I just want to call it quits. I'm so tired of thinking about it and talking about it and ruminating... That couch of angst gets me angsty. It makes me nervous, and I get all red in the face and my social anxiety makes it's appearance again. It'd be easier to just not go.
Speaking your truth isn't easy for a people pleaser / "tell them what they want to hear or just shut-up" person like me. It's scary stuff. To open your mouth and speak truth that might hurt others (okay, that will knowingly hurt others) isn't fun. But it's necessary.
After almost 40 years of living, I've just figured that out: it's necessary.

I know plenty - plenty - of people who just say what they want to say.
No holds barred.
People who unapologetically just speak their truth.
These people amaze me to no end. They sometimes often make me feel really uncomfortable because - oh my good Lord above, did you really just say that in that tone of voice to your husband?! And did you really just call your daughter a brat in front of me?!...
Just saying what you want to say - outloud - is so foreign to me.
I wonder why that is?... I suppose sitting on the couch of angst might help me figure that out. Only time will tell.  I have my suspicious it boils down to that end-all, be-all need to be loved and liked and accepted and wanted and all that teenagey-like stuff. Yada, yada, yada...
Don't get me wrong, I am a master at the internal dialogue.
Oh if you could hear the conversations I have in my head. If you could hear the verbal sling-shots that go unsaid. You'd likely be appalled. You might not even want to be my friend, or read my blog, or friend me on IG or FB. I don't know how you'd react.
And for now I guess I'll never know.
And really how the collective "you" would react shouldn't even matter, right?
Someday. Someday, I hope to be the master at speaking my truth - out-loud.
Even if it stings a little.
And I guess a part of me really hopes that I'll be loved even more for doing so.

But for now, I'll continue to sit on that couch of angst and see how this all unfolds.

(And sometimes just hitting that publish button is scary stuff.)

sammy and her sticks.

She loves her sticks.

I take her out to go potty and she prances around, finds a stick and happily carries it up to the deck thinking she gets to bring it inside.

But woe is Sammy - I tell her to drop the stick.

Momma isn't cleaning up chewed-up sticks around the house.
Poor girl.

It's hard being Sammy Sue.

Don't feel too sorry for her.
She gets plenty of time on the couch when dad is out of town.

the box of shame.

A few weeks ago our microwave broke, so we got a new one. And since I was done with white appliances, and chose a black microwave we kind of had to get a new black oven/stove top. And then since it was driving my husband crazy to have two black appliances, a stainless fridge and a white dishwasher, we bought a new black dishwasher to match. (No new fridge, we just got that one last year.)
Anyway, he installed the dishwasher and we were left with a big cardboard box. And everyone knows that kids love big boxes, right?
So my Maxwell - what does he make? A box of shame. At the time he had been on a kick of watching Despicable Me - and if you've seen it you know the scene where the girl is in the "box of shame" at the home for girls.

So Max made a box of shame. And quickly proceeded to get Sammy to go in it. And then quickly proceeded to convince Gma to help hold the box closed so Sammy couldn't get out, but could only peek through the "window" in the box. Yes, he even used a lot of tape!

She looked so sad in there. Staring up at Gma as if to ask, "Why are you partaking in keeping me in this box? What have I ever done that's so awful? I'm not a bad dog."
It was cute and pathetic all at the same time.

And a week later Max got in the box. Grinning from ear to ear at that point because it had become the office in his huge fort made of couch cushions and blankets.

But it got me thinking - especially after reading Daring Greatly and The Gifts of Imperfection -
how many of us recognize the difference between guilt and shame?...
There is a difference. I didn't realize it until I had read Brene's books above.
Guilt tells us we DID something bad. Our behavior was bad.
Shame tells us we ARE bad. That as a person, who did something not so good, that automatically makes our entire being and who we are - BAD.
See the difference? Guilt is about behavior. Shame is about our very being and who we are as a person.
HUGE difference, huh?
Guilt makes us feel bad about something we said or did.
Shame slowly erodes at our sense of self, our sense of worthiness, and sense of whether we are lovable just as we are - good, bad and ugly combined.
Shame leaves us wondering if we are really "enough."

I'm the first to admit that it's quick to make the jump from "your behavior was bad" to "you are bad."
I've put Max in that box.
I've put my husband in that box.
I've put friends and family in that box.
And worse yet, I continue to willing put myself in that box, and label myself as the bad mom/wife/friend/daughter/sister/photographer/etc.
"You yelled at Max - you're a bad person."
"You weren't patient with Max - you're a bad person."
"You snapped at Eric because you're in a bad mood - you're a bad person."
"You yanked on the dog's leash because she's taking forever to go potty while you stand in the pouring rain - You're a bad person." I've shamed myself to the moon and back, ten ways till Sunday.

Think about it. Really think about it...
How many times have you mistaken poor choices in behavior of others as them being bad.
We do it all the time as parents, right? We've all said to our kid, "You're a bad boy/girl. Don't do that again!" When we really should be saying, "Your behavior was not nice/uncalled for/disrespectful/(fill-in-the-blank) Please do not BEHAVE that way again."
See the difference?
Big difference.

That box is still sitting in our living room. Part of me wants to toss it. Burn it even, as a symbol of telling shame where the heck it can go. And part of me wants to keep it around as a reminder of how often I put others and myself in that box.

And if you are a parent or spouse or sibling or daughter/son or friend to anyone on God's green earth, I highly suggest you read Daring Greatly. And then read it again.

My deep thoughts for Monday.
a.

lazy daisy.

So the other day Max suddenly decided that maybe we should have named Sammy, Daisy. And I actually had a "that's kind of a great name for her" moment. Solely because then I could call her Lazy Daisy.

She's a lounge dog. Or maybe it's the laid-back, California girl in her. But this dog, at not yet two years old, has the fine art of lounging around the house (on the couch when dad is out of town...much to his dismay) down pat. She's a professional, friends. I may learn much from her about getting my lazy on in the coming years.

I present to you - Lazy Daisy Sammy Sue.

happy sammyversary!

A year ago this Sunday, we brought our sweet little Sammy home! She's been such a fun addition to our family. Gentle, silly, a lover of the belly rubs, an odd under-the-bed sleeper, a little bit cat-like in her pouncing abilities, an occasional  howler, a snuggler who just loves her dad to pieces - if only you could see her go crazy when dad gets home! We are way past the accidents in the house phase (thank goodness!), and pretty much past the chewing on anything and everything phase, and let's not forget the bickering with big brother phase - glad that one seems to be over. The siblings get along just wonderfully now. Max always gives his little sister a big hug before she leaves his room after story time.

Who would have known she'd fill that lonely hole that was left in our hearts when Maggie left us, so perfectly and with so much love.

Love you, Sammy Sue!

favorites of 2012

I thought I'd post a few of my favorite photos from 2012...

Lots of photos of Max. And a few photos of other things. Hahaha...

Happy New Years Eve, friends!
Wishing you many blessings in 2013.
Thanks for stopping by here and reading.
xo