We’re pinching our pennies for date night these days, so I was excited to remember I’d bought movie passes on Groupon months ago.
A free movie + conversation over steak tacos = a win for budget date night!
Which gave me a great idea! Because our entrepreneurial income tends to fluctuate throughout the year, I think I’ll buy myself a movie gift card and refillable cash card when times are aplenty, and save them for when times are lean.
BOOM!
I’m full of great ideas.
11:00pm
I think we stumbled across a new Zug Family tradition this year.
After a party and game night with some friends in the Belltown area, we parted ways with the group and wandered into The Lucky Diner to wait for the Space Needle fireworks.
We sat in the corner booth, surrounded by huge windows that made people watching in that buzzing neighborhood a most fantastically entertaining feature of the evening.
11:30pm
The kids ate Lucky Charms and I shared a Black Butte Porter milkshake with Bryan. It was totally low key, but it felt nostalgic and special.
We never eat cereal. We never stay out late. Everything about it was a treat.
11:45pm
Thomas is the night owl. He was chatty all evening & even during the car ride home.
Ruthie is an early riser, and despite an afternoon nap, she still didn’t quite make it.
midnight
Just before midnight we stepped across the street for a better view of the Space Needle. And also, Thomas wanted to hear the [insert Thomas making firecracker sounds].
After a month surrounded by lots of people and busy activity, an intimate family evening out on the town hit the spot.
Happy New Year, everyone. 2012 is already the best ever.
Medium on the lid, dark on the fold, light on the brown bone.
While most midlife crises involve sports cars or diamonds or younger men, mine apparently involves eye shadow.
My whole life it felt like the entire world knew how to apply eye shadow, but I just couldn’t make it work. My eyeballs bulged out like Marty Feldman, the skin above my eyes folds down funny over my lids, and I had no deep sockets or crease to work with.
I’d go to the make-up counters at the mall for advice, but everyone there put eye shadow on me the same way they put eye shadow on everyone else.
So I pretty much gave up on eye shadow.
Then for some reason when I got my bangs cut in October, it launched me into an obsession with eye shadow. I don’t know why, but I went from the Wake Up And Put My Hair Into a Ponytail Girl, to the Wash, Blow Dry, Style, Get Dressed Beyond Yoga Pants, & Wear a Full Face of Makeup Girl.
The trouble is, I still haven’t figured out how to wear eye shadow, and it’s because of that damn fold of skin and my bulging eyes.
So last night I went down the internet rabbit hole of makeup tutorials and came across all this. Four hours later at 12:30 in the morning, I was more confused than when I started.
Here’s why:
I did my makeup after midnight last night because 1) I’m on vacation, and 2) If I didn’t try *something* after reading all that research I might never have fallen asleep.
Today I’m wearing enough eye shadow to paint the town.
Somebody… please save me from myself!
I love my kids.
Some days I have to convince myself more fervently than others, but the fact remains: they’re pretty awesome.
I say this tonight in particular because, well, it was one of those nights, and I need a little reminder that they do things other than yell at me and say they want to live somewhere else where they can do whatever they want.
(By the way, if you’re inclined to let them do whatever they want, I’ll drop them off on Thursday. They’ll be ecstatic.)
Finally I shut the whole thing down and put them to bed at 7:30. Which is awesome, because their room is still not clean and we’ll have to do this all over again tomorrow.
But still. They’re pretty cute.
Right?!
Kind of excited about my latest techie adventure. A few days ago I shot two video clips on my iPhone, then I downloaded the iMovie app and edited the two clips together.
I think I’m inadvertently amassing a diversity of skills and tasks I can perform while in my pajamas watching 30Rock, and having an iPhone makes this much easier.
If I wanted to, I could have published the finished video to YouTube right from my phone, then posted it to my blog using the WordPress app…. RIGHT FROM MY PHONE.
But I wanted to add intro titling, and the iMovie app doesn’t have this function so I downloaded the edited video to my laptop and added the titling there before posting to YouTube.
Pretty fun. Except I have no idea why the size formatting is off. Will have to figure that out for next time.
Every Tuesday the silly boys go to a Cub Scout meeting so Ruthie and I get some crazy serious girl time. And as you can see, monochromatic pedicures are for the not exciting people.
And when our toes were properly polished, Ruthie set to work on a new “tattoo,” and she told me she wanted to be a tattoo artist when she grew up.
First of all, Duh.
Then I was all, “You know you have to draw what other people want on their bodies, right?” because she’s not so much about design collaboration.
All I got was a shrug.
Halloween always reinforces my love for public school. I know it sounds like a strange correlation, but it’s one of the only times a year that I realize just how rooted we are in our neighborhood.
There’s nothing quite like the squeals of third grade girls as they run into friends on their ghoulish walk from house to house, or the look of surprised awe when they realize a teacher lives in their neighborhood.
Thomas couldn’t get over that one. It’s like he thought all the teachers slept under their desk or something. “You mean she LIVES here?!”
We even scored a pair of shoes for Thomas that a neighbor’s son outgrew. It’s not every day you get a pair of Keens in your trick or treat bag.
Encounters like these are one of the reasons we chose public school – we wanted to connect with our community. And every year I know more trick-or-treating faces, and every year I know more of the neighbors who great us at their doors.
I love that Bryan balances out my Control Freakishness by having the kids design their own pumpkins. They had some awesome drawings that involved teeth and scars, and I kept hearing Bryan say, “I’ll see what I can do.”
He did great, of course.
Carving six pumpkins made for a bit of a crazy Saturday night, but so fun.
I just noticed I matched the wrong pumpkins to the wrong drawings in a couple pictures below, but you get the idea.
The Mop.
That’s it. I’m done. My experiment with long hair ran its coarse. I’m getting my mop chopped. I no longer do anything to it except braid it or put it up, so what’s the point, really?
WHAT’S THE POINT?
Below are some examples of hairstyles I pinned to my Pinterest board. Help me figure out what to do!
My criteria for any hair cut is simple: LOW MAINTENANCE. I hate fussing over my hair, and I can’t afford to get it cut every four weeks, so it has to be practical and have longevity.
I’m willing to blow dry it daily, but curl or flat iron only occasionally. I’d like to avoid hair products altogether.
I know. I KNOW. I’m a grown woman with a twelve-year-old tomboy mentality.
Option #1:
I basically see the two hair cuts above as the same, but one is blown out and the other is flat ironed. This is my favorite style inspiration so far, and the one I think looks most like me.
However: bangs.
I haven’t done that in, oh, I don’t know, fifteen years? Doesn’t one have to have one’s bangs cut often? This seems out of scope for my low maintenance criteria.
Unless: hair clip. That might give me some longevity between cuts.
Option #2:
This is another option I’m considering – keeping it longish but cutting some bangs.
But again: bangs.
Also: I’m tired of my long hair.
In conclusion: this is cute, but I think I’m over it.
Option #3:
I love, love, LOVE the cut on the left. I used to have hair like this and it really worked for me and I loved how easy it was.
However, when my hair was cut like this my face was more… how shall I say?… svelt. Yes, svelt. In fact, all of me was a little more svelt when my hair was cut like this.
Lately with my increased roundness, I’m not sure I’d like myself as much in this hair cut.
Also: I don’t know how to put on eye liner, and this chick looks smokin’ hot with her sassy hair and dark eyes.
And I love the idea of the haircut on the right, but I can imagine that with my blond-ish hair color and lack of texturizing hair product I might look a bit like the end of a Q-tip.
Or it would resemble a football helmet like Sally Field in Steel Magnolias.
Sooo….
What say you? I lean toward Option #1.
Listing Photo, 2003
We moved into our home eight years ago this weekend.
During that time we’ve had a dozen people live with us and hundreds come through our doors for parties, play dates, counseling, Bible study, and whatnot.*
Guests have stayed with us from as close as Portland to as far away as Australia.
I’m thankful for God’s provision for our home. We afforded this house on one income, made it through a few layoffs, and fed a lot of people with our fishes and loaves.
If it were up to me and Bryan, I think we’d prefer to live at the end of a deserted mountain road or at the top of a secluded condo building. We’re introverted by nature, and some might even say Bryan is a hermit. But Jesus called us into community and hospitality, and His influence in the lives of the people around us is unmistakeable.
Hard conversations around the dinner table.
But instead of living in seclusion, our home is where people gather.
Neighbors drop in, friends swing by, and kids swarm. There’s always an extra plate or two at dinner, and I’ve taken to stocking up on snacks. God transformed my heart and my budget to live hospitably in this home.
One of many game nights.
As we consider moving sometime in the future, I wrestle. I feel it’s what we are to do, yet our roots seem too deep here to survive a replant. But I recognize that hospitality is a state of mind, a way of life. It’s not a house.
No matter where we are, God will bless our home.
—
*The “whatnot” may or may not include the time lightening struck as a handful of lusty housewives watched the Justin Timberlake HBO concert special on my giant HD tv.
Lately I’ve been experiencing a creative conundrum.
You see, I have it made. I’m one of the lucky ones. And no, I’m not talking about my hair. It’s amazing, to be sure, and the world is generally very jealous of my thick and gorgeous mane, but I am talking about my lifestyle.
It’s amazing that I get to write for a living. It’s amazing that I get to work from home. During school hours. And that I don’t have ongoing expensive day care costs. This luxury is not lost on me, and from a working parent’s perspective, this is a perfect arrangement.
But it also means I work alone, which can be lonely. And uninspiring. And depressing. And did I mention lonely?
Amazing things happen when I’m in the same room as my creative team. The creative process is sometimes internal, but most of our best ideas happen in collaboration, and most of the time that collaboration is ambient, meaning it happens organically as we’re crossing paths in the hallway and not necessarily during a scheduled brainstorming session.
The watercooler conversations, if you will.
Anyway, back to the conundrum.
I like that I’m in control of my schedule, that I can be highly productive in my pajamas and use my laundry cycles as an excuse to stretch my legs and take a break (it’s better than smoking!). I like that I can be a “working mom” without compromising my affinity for being a “stay at home” mom.
But I hate that it sucks the creative life out of me to work alone.
I’m certain there’s at least a handful of solutions to my conundrum, but I can’t think of one that doesn’t involve compromise – either by me, my family, or my team.
Really, I just want to have it all. Even more all than I already have, apparently.
Okay first of all: the swim suit (ever the eccentric). Second of all: the crazy bad hair “fix” after she chopped it all off herself. And finally: the fact that she looks and sounds exactly the same, except she can’t seem to get the words out around those huge cheeks!
I was reminded of this 2007 video of Ruthie “speaking sign language” today, as she stood on our front porch speaking to our (new!) Mexican neighbors in fake Spanish.
Yes, you heard me. And yes, it’s as embarrassing as you’re imagining.
“Hola!” she said. Then fired off a long string of “nodocomalannoporrolucawanna….” etc.
“Your hospitality is inspiring,” I said. “Way to welcome them to the neighborhood. But I’m not sure they’ll take your… um… Spanish in the spirit you intend.”
Fortunately, my new neighbor is awesome and has a sense of humor.
This Spring I pruned a bush that smells like oregano when you rub the leaves. My kids thought this was so awesome that they tried to sell branches on the street.
So there they sat.
And sat.
And sat.
They didn’t have any customers, but it kept them busy and argument free for most of the afternoon!
