The Gems! They have returned!

The last hurrah with my byu girls.

The last hurrah with my byu girls.

Hi everyone! Sarah here -- and I've been itching to be back in this space. I've felt a strong desire (turned near desperation) to return to some genuinely creative pursuits. Sometimes I let myself get totally bogged down in the mundane-ness of my life, and I then I get VERY GRUMPY. But N&L cheers me up every time!

I told Annie I'd resurrect the 'gems' this week. If you are new to N&L, the gems are a set of fun links we publish on Fridays.

Ahhhh . . . the best laid plans.

Sterling and I spent Thursday night prepping for Hurricane Harvey. We braved the grocery store and waited in line to fill up our cars with gas. Then I made the phenomenal mistake of turning on The Weather Channel, where, within approximately seven minutes, I became convinced that the end of the world was nigh at hand. The Weather Channel, I have found, is literally dripping with rhetorics of disaster. And it makes sense. If it's not disastrous -- why would you continue watching the WEATHER???

But now it's Saturday and while disaster is still possible, I'm slightly calmer and feel capable of churning out some links for my favorite audience. You!

First off, if you are a lucky Texas resident (or interested in following Harvey), stop watching The Weather Channel immediately. Instead, point your browser towards Space City Weather -- it's "hype-free forecasts." Their writing style is clear, concise, and straight-forward. There are no headlines like "Houston: In the Crosshairs of Disaster" -- which was literally on the TWC's site when I woke up this morning.

Have you seen this article in the Washington Post?"The narrative we encounter again and again is that mothers are fragile creatures and that the only proper response to our empty nest is dread." This is a slightly different take on dropping your child off at college. I must admit I felt a bit scolded -- like it somehow weakened my position as an independent woman to mourn my children's leave-taking. Mostly, I think everyone (moms and dads) should feel what they feel. Don't tell me how to feel. I already have so many people who are the boss of me.

Do you love Letterfolk as much as I do? They are hiring headline writers (it's just a couple of hours a week). Check it out here.

Little Green Notebook is opening a store! I'm dreaming of a my-fave-people-store tour. Here's how it will go: Magnolia Market at the Silos in Waco, TX, then Pioneer Woman's Mercantile in Pawhuska, OK, then Juniper Studio in Mesa, AZ. Anyone want to come along?

I've tried my hand at a bit of watercolor over the past month, and it's really fun. I'm getting instruction from SkillShare -- which I really, really need. Working on Modern Watercolor Floral Three Ways right now. I'm on a two-month free trial, and I love it already.

Before I head back to Hurricane Harvey watch -- let me leave you with a happy thought: DONUTS! Have you seen all of the donut boards on Pinterest? For Madison's homecoming -- we (and by we, I mean not me) constructed our own version. More details to come.

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That's it guys! I wouldn't mind a few prayers that all of the water stays OUTSIDE of my house. 

P.S. -- Follow our instagram account (@nestandlaunch) for extra pics and fun ideas!

Ahoy! A catch up

Hello, N+L friends. It's been a minute (or a million), hasn't it?!  What a ride January-July 2017 was! Humbling and wonderful and exhausting and faith-blooming and stretchy and rewarding and can-I-do-this and yes.

I finished my inaugural profess-ing semester in May and, between that and our international move and the changes in our family I just now feel like I'm emerging from a cave into the bright sunlight. (I was going to say cocoon but I'm not sure I can claim the majesty of a butterfly at this point.) 

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A quick catch up on the cast of characters in my family life: 

As I mentioned back here, in our new setup G works in DC during the week (with, thankfully, every other Friday off).  Although we thought we would alternate spending weekends in DC and Lexington, G looks forward to getting out of the city so much that we pretty much have made Lexington our consistent home base even when (during the summer) we have both been in DC all week together. He's been traveling internationally every six weeks or so for work which has brought a new dimension to his career. We love our time together--it's definitely helped us to not take the other for granted. Life is good, y'all. Mostly, truly incandescently good. 

Lauren and Patrick live in Atlanta where they've just bought their first home, a condo in a neighborhood they love. Lauren's been doing online coursework toward her sociology degree; recently she's decided to just bite the bullet and go back to BYU for a semester to wrap it all up and graduate in December. It'll be tough to be apart for a few months but I'm proud of them both for making it a priority. She's been teaching early morning seminary and doing some good nanny gigs for several families in the area, too. 

Maddy just returned from Ghana, where she did a 3-month summer internship in microfinance. She and three other studetns lived in a village and traveled around the area, supporting and training small business owners. She had some cool and unique experiences--lively music and dancing at a series of Ghanaian funerals and listening to the fisherman sing as they pull in their nets and gleeful children dancing in rainstorms and navigating chicken soup with every part of the chicken floating in the bowl. She's back at USU this week and has a full semester ahead.

Speaking of Africa, this spring Sam received his mission call to Angola (on the west coast of Africa) and left in July for six weeks at the training center, arriving this last Friday in Luanda. The six months leading up to his mission were unforgettably dear ones. Six weeks in, we still miss him d e e p l y and yet feel simultaneously blessed by and proud of his service. I love our letters back and forth and the window they are to his mind and heart. Still, I'm in denial about how long two years will be. I just don't let myself go there yet. 

I will say this: I miss resident mothering. I have lots of thoughts on this post-parenting transition that I'll share in coming posts. Here's the deal: It's part wonderful and part heart wrenching and part lonely and part exhilarating and all completely part of the process, as much of the motherhood story as baby showers and childbirth classes are--except we don't get parties or classes or what-to-expect-when-you're guidebooks about this side of things. We need more preparation and candor about this part of the path and if I can find the words to articulate some, I'll be happy to plant a few guideposts on the map to help anyone else navigate this liminal space.

Also, I just really miss this. How are you? How's your heart at the end of this summer? What are you hatching and nesting and launching these days? Do tell--I've got a lot of bandwidth to hear about it these days :)

I thought this would be forever

My hopes for this on-again, off-again blog always center around it becoming a resource – a place to learn, exchange thoughts, maybe even be inspired. These are lofty goals for my measly thoughts, but we always have Annie!! Lift us up Annie!!

Anywho, here’s my deep subject for today: Have you ever been shunned by a family member? Because let me tell you, being shunned is the worst.

I’ll admit that I absolutely hate it when people share what they learned from a difficult experience but refuse to give the details. I mean, what’s the point really?

But I’m going to sort of do that here, what with the expansive nature of the Internet and all.

What I can share are my own foibles! And that's info, right? So, here we go:

Last summer, I opened my big mouth and spoke out of turn about a family member. And because I live a charmed life, that judge-y statement made it back to the people I’d judged. When I found out that my terrible nature had (at long last) been exposed, I felt horrible. The tattle-talers had not represented me well. For sure, the re-telling was intended to cause hurt, but I cannot deny that I talked about someone else behind their back. And any way you look at it, that’s just wrong. I was wrong. I freely admit it.

With the knowledge of my wrong-doing clutched tightly in my heart, I girded up my loins and went over to the offendees home to offer up a sincere apology. I really psyched myself up to not get into the particulars, to not equivocate – just apologize. I was genuinely sorry, and I wanted them to know that. I wanted them to know that I loved them and valued our relationship. I did my very best to convey those sentiments. Even now, as I try to evaluate my actions as objectively as possible (is that even possible?), I can unabashedly state that my apology was heart-felt.

I left that day thinking that we could all move on.

But I was sorely mistaken.

Over the next few weeks, the news came to me in drips and drabs that they had not found my apology sincere – that my sin was more grievous than the apology could cover. And still later I learned that there were hard feelings going back for years. I hadn’t been friendly enough at certain family functions. I had not nurtured relationships in the manner expected. My efforts, in their eyes, just flat weren’t enough.

Maybe those accusations are true? I don’t know. Certainly, my failures weren’t intentional. And I could type you up a list of ways I thought I was extending the hand of friendship. But what good would that do?

It’s now been over eight months since the shunning began. There has been extremely limited contact. I’ve re-issued the original apology, much like you’d re-enter a once-denied credit card number. If I just type these Same. Numbers. More. Carefully. This darn thing will work. I’m sure a bigger, more loving person could somehow stop it, could throw enough love and generosity into the mix to MAKE IT STOP. But my little, stingy heart is too hurt. It cowers in the corner.

I don’t think you’ll probably find my take-away on this situation inspirational. But maybe you might find it comforting, that is if you find yourself in the position where you can’t control someone else (the absolute bane of my existence). So here goes:

I can’t change the actions or feelings or thoughts of another person. I can only learn from my mistakes and work on bettering myself. I can’t be responsible for the happiness of others (although I’d like to contribute where I can). I also can’t make other people responsible for my happiness. I can only work on me and take responsibility for myself. As my Maddie would say, “You be you, Mom.”  So, this me is working to relinquish the bad juju of this situation. I can’t feel sad much longer. I’m going to have to release those feelings into the wind, point my face in the direction of the sun, and move myself along.

Because what else is there to do?


So, yes -- rather a heavy topic as I re-enter the Nest & Launch waters. But fear not! I'm happy and healthy and ready to share things like . . . how to make watermelon boats and strawberry popsicles and to dream with you over my plan to relocate our empty nest (once it's actually empty, of course) to NYC!! Stay tuned.

A few good gems revival

When we were unpacking after our recent move I found a bunch of journals from my growing up years. "Bunch of journals" sounds like I was a diary writing fiend but really I was sporadic and fickle, switching to new ones midway through the last.

Thumbing through them,  I noticed that every time there was a time gap between writing, I spent the whole next entry talking about how I hadn't written for so long--it kind of crushed the narrative juju, ha! 

So I have good precedent for that habit but I'm going to try not to do it here.  Except to say: Hello, friends, sorry I haven't written for so long!  Nesting and launching are in full sway around here and we have lots to catch up on, you and us.  But it's a Friday so how about we start with a few good gems: 

  • The power of talking sideways to teens. Yep, I second this. Some of the best talks with my kids have been in the car or working next to each other
     
  • Sam shared this music video with me and it's a no-fail, happy-making clip. It came out about a year and a half ago but it's new to me! (I wonder if it helped Emma Stone land the LaLa Land role?)  Even if you've already seen it, maybe this will still brighten your day:
via The Porch Swing Company

via The Porch Swing Company

Or what about a bed swing?!

  • Isn't Edie Wadsworth's kitchen lovely? I love that green hutch, the brass pendants, the light gray cabinets, and all the rest.

Have a fantastic weekend, all! I'm hoping to explore a local trail, grade some papers,  and mostly just cozy up at home to listen to conference together. What's on for you?

Ginger Lincoln and the throng of bands

There's a white lined index card tucked behind a jar on our kitchen counter. It looks like a wacko list of unrelated terms but it represents a mini tradition we acquired a few years ago where we create random future band names from word combinations that come up in our regular conversations. 

For example: One day Sam is especially excited as he broke open a freshly purchased loaf of our usual brand of bread in Australia (Helga's). As he takes out the first two slices he announces, "Oh, I love first-day Helgas!" We look up with a grin and say it in unison: "Band name." It goes on the list.

If future anthropologists discovered the card, I'm not sure what they would make of the kooky random word pairings. Each entry takes me back to the moment: the laugh of recognition, the race to jot it down on the card. It's one of those organic little traditions that have emerged in our midstage family life and I love how it pins down the elusive moonbeam of a moment. When we packed up to move, that little battered card was one of the few documents precious enough to tuck into my journal to bring along with me, in person.  

Here are a few of the bands--you can probably imagine some of the backstories. Others are pretty...situational and need a little explanation: 

  • First Day Helgas
  • Ginger Lincoln
  • Involuntary Doughnuts
  • Defective Tomato
  • 6 a.m. Shanks (This one probably needs a little explaining: Greg had a weekly early morning call with a guy in the US with that name)
  • Dichotomous Key
  • Sticky Figs
  • Downton Abbey on the Sly
  • Rogue Pinky
  • Time Zone Overlap
  • American Dairy
  • Bat Pee Rainstorm (after we made the unfortunate choice of sitting under a couple of trees at an outdoor concert that ended up being the home to a whole fleet of bats)

If I were fancier I'd turn it into a special journal or chatbook but that might make it too precious and ruin it. (In fact, I'm hoping that just writing about it here won't mess with the band name juju!) It's just a battered list on a notecard. But it's also more than just the paper--it's a snapshot of a laugh, an artifact of connected delight. 

What little artifacts do you save that represent aspects of your family life? What tiny, random traditions mean the most to you?