this is really happening!

Guess who is moving to Atlanta today!

Guess who is really happy about it...

And guess what we're going to do!

That's right! High five! And thumbs up!

Couldn't be happier!

Welcome to Atlanta, Duke and Sam! 

They arrive tonight to kick-start a weekend of unpacking, rearranging and merry making! 

Bibers multiplying in Atlanta! Wahoo! 

{doing your best}

There are things you're supposed to blog about, like fun weekends, cool workouts and tasty recipes. 

But what happens when you seem to be overrun my non-blogger-topics, like the new shirt you bought and the chocolate popsicle you accidentally dripped on it?

{this guy!}

Or the sunflowers you bought and forgot to cut the stems so they died right away?

{RIP}

Or maybe the toilet that broke and you couldn't use for four days, so you ran to the coffee shop down the street every time?

{I'll spare you the photo}

Here's what I think you do. 

First, you laugh. Because who spills coffee and a popsicle on a new shirt, day one (did I mention the coffee before? Coffee, too!). 

Second, you say a little baby thank you prayer for bleach. 

And then you realize that life is not perfect. It's a series of highs and lows and in betweens. The lows make us grateful for the highs. And the in betweens make us grateful for the variety.  

Life isn't supposed to be perfect. You spill things, break things and catch frozen bananas on fire when you try to thaw them in the microwave and leave them in there for too long (uh huh). 

And you know what else? Sometimes we really mess up. Like real stuff; not just bananas. We make mistakes at work. We hurt people's feelings. We make the wrong decision. We are immature. Act selfishly.

But it's OK. 

Grace, not perfection.

My life seems to operate in a cycle. First, I say yes, yes, yes! to everything. I can do that, be there, deliver on this and lead that, too. And then all at once I hit a wall. A kind of exhaustion that leads me to dream of a week at the beach without my phone, and then immediately change my mind because I can't bear the thought of all of the things that would be waiting to be checked off when I get back. 

It's at this point that I get it in check. I declare Whitney Wednesdays. Unplug for one night. Say no to approximately one activity. And then I feel under control for a few weeks. And begin again.

It happened this week. I started Monday completely overwhelmed, and we all know overwhelmedness shouldn't hit until at least Tuesday. This impacted the feeling: should I feel like this on a Monday? You're supposed to be recharged on Monday. 

And then began my clean-up regimen:

Cleaning out my purse

Opting out of bible study this week

Saying no to breakfast with a friend Tuesday

And no to leading a new committee at church

And no to volunteering next weekend

And making six lists to organize all of the thoughts in my head

The no's and super organization felt way better. But I was mad at myself. Because this keeps happening. Why can't I get the hang of it? Why can't I just know my limits? 

And then it hit me:

Grace not perfection.

This is my issue. Some people struggle with getting stuff done. I struggle with an obsession with getting stuff done. And this is my battle. This is the area in which I will have to learn, time and time again. And that's OK. I will keep trying until I get it; until I break the cycle and learn that downtime is good. Unplugging is great. Nights alone are beautiful. 

But until I learn it, I will remind myself that it's OK to strike out sometimes. It's OK to say yes just one too many times before we learn to pause and say, "Let me think about it before I commit to that. Let me check my schedule."

And until then, I'll just keep trying - with beautiful highs and lows along the way. Because you know what? The popsicle was worth it. And the flowers were beautiful while they lasted. And the quick trips to the coffee shop? Just meant more excuses for iced coffees. 

{links i love} for all of you who...

For all of my 20 somethings out there. We don't have to have it all together! 

For all of my Atlantans, now that it's finally hotty, hot summer (wahoo!).

For all of my protein-obsessed, fiber-obsessed, healthy food loving friends. Chocolate peanut butter energy bars by Robyn. Need I say more? 

For all my fellow type-A buddies. My simplified planner = my obsession. Emily Ley has all the best ways to keep it in check. 

For those who believe that anything al fresco is the besto. And you're never too old for Twister. 

For anyone else like me who can't ever have enough info about peak season eating. It's tastier, cheaper and healthier! What more could you want? I see you, peaches. 

And for all y'all who believe know that dessert is a food group, should be allowed at every meal and, even though ice cream is king, sometimes it's good to mix it up.

For anyone that wants to wear the boho headband but also wonders if they can pull it off (it's all in the attitude, right?). I feel like this neon bad boy is motivation enough to try it out.

And that's a wrap, folks. 

Because sometimes, everyone else knows how to say it better than me.

{function over form}

The fact that every gym/yoga/pilates/workout studio is typically covered in mirrors is great when:

1. You want to perfect your form
2. You're having a superly feel good about yourself day
3. You threw your hair in a top knot and it just so happened to be so perfect that everyone in the gym - literally, everyone - should see it. (On that note, doesn't this always seem to be the case at bedtime?)

The fact that the gym is covered in mirrors is not so good when you're having the opposite of a good body image day. And we all have them, that's for darn sure. Just like our trouble with comparing our lives to one another, so it also seems we compare our bodies.

And on those days when we aren't exactly feeling your best, how is it possible that we manage to stand by the most fit girl in yoga? And when we're feeling just a little slow and heavy? Of course we get the girl doing intervals on the treadmill next door. 

When it happens to me, I'm filled with one part of comparison (dang, why don't my arms look like that?) and one part stare (I am going to stare at you for the rest of your workout to see if you're doing something magical that no one else in the world knows about. And maybe follow you to the car to see if you do walking pushups on your way out). 

But then I was talking to a friend about it and she gave me a new mantra for when the "why don't my arms look like that?" overcomes me.

Function over form.

So, instead of: why don't my arms look like that?

I think: Function over form. It's so great she has arms to help her function; to lift things and open doors. I am so happy I have arms to help me function, too. What would we do without our arms? 

To focus not on how great her arms look, but how fortunate we are to have functional bodies. 

What I've realized is that over the past few years, I've built an attitude that allows me to beat myself up over my perceived imperfections. That having the bendiest, fittest girl in front of me in yoga can not only impact how I feel about myself momentarily, but can also impact the entire 90 minute class. It can make me shift from focusing on my breath, how I feel and the workout to how I compare in the mirror next to her. 

How unfair to myself.

I've only been practicing the new mantra for a few weeks, but I can feel it changing me. I can feel my posture changing from one of lust and comparison to one of appreciation. They might not be the most toned, but how lucky I am to have arms that can lift my sweet nieces and nephews. And ones that can hug the people I love. And help me write and do yoga and eat frozen yogurt.

To start, it might be a bit of an uphill battle. I've had a lot of practice applauding form over function. Applauding perfect over real; over grace. But as with so many things in life, all we can do is take one step at a time. 

So for today, I'm happy to have legs that take me places and arms that open doors along the way. A spine that lets me bend in yoga and feet that let me jump up and down many times a day. And hands that help me make that every-now-and-then-perfect-accidental-topknot. Because, if there's one thing we do know, when it comes to topknots, form is everything.