on parents knowing everything & the plants 'round here

I've mentioned before that a very real fear of mine is: when I am a parent, will I know everything in the way my parents do? Will I know what my kids need? Will I know when to take them to the doctor and when to wait it out? Will I know there aren't monsters under the bed and the right advice to give?

I'm not sure, but I sure hope so.

A few weeks ago, when my mom helped my brothers move to Atlanta, she blew me away, as always, with her knowingness. For the most part, our house feels pretty complete to me. We still need some decorations in our living room and I need to finish my frame wall, but on the whole it doesn't feel too empty. My mom, however, saw it slightly differently. While she admitted we didn't need much, she knew we needed another pillow in our desk chair. She knew our porch needed bright cushions in the adirondacks. 

And she knew we needed flowers. 

Now, I've had a very real, very public struggle with horticulture. Most specifically at the Goodwynn.  But my mom assured me I could do this. I'm older now, you know?

And so, we planted. OK. She planted. I documented and listened to her instructions: hydrangeas need lots of water. The soil should always be moist. And if one dies, just cut it off and another one will grow back (who knew!?). And pour the water at the base of the plant slowly so it can drink it.

I told you she knew everything. 

It's been a few weeks and those babies are still alive. I know this is ridiculous, but I'm really proud. Watching them grow has been instantly gratifying. Like vacuuming or mowing the lawn. The fruit of my labor is right before my eyes! And even though there are still a whole lot of things I have to figure out, it feels great to take one more step toward my green thumb. At least in the hydrangea department. 

slow summer, happy summer

I'm a big believer in being intentional my with my time because, when it's all said and done, how we invest our time is how we invest our lives. But during the weekends this summer, I've made an effort to be less intent. Less intent on accomplishing this and that plan in one day. Less intent on checking everything off on Saturday. Less intent on traveling. Less intent on making plans and more intent on slowing down. 

Without sounding too dramatic, I'd like to say that the practice has been transformational. It has allowed me to create more breathing room. To create just enough space to make the busy week-night dance less crazy. To create - dare I say it? - a little boredom. 

And more importantly, it has helped me to be able to say yes more. Instead of having to decline last minute invites on the weekends because of a prior commitment - I can say yes, spur of the moment. And I love spur of the moment, flexible summer life. It is the way summer is meant to be lived, you know?

Thursday, Melissa, Liz and I made impromptu plans to go to Old Fashioneds and Otters at Zoo Atlanta, which is part of the summer series, Wild on the Rocks (and, on that note, I will see you at Winos and Rhinos for sure-os). 

The zoo has been on my Atlanta bucket list since even before my bucket list was alive. We meandered our way through the zoo with Bandit boxes and fell hard for the elephants.  It was the perfect slow, steamy summer night. 

Saturday, Katie was going to be in Atlanta and asked me to spend the day together. She admitted that she assumed I'd say no due to conflicts, since it was a last minute request. My heart was full when I was able to say yes. We went for a long walk, while simultaneously searching for an estate sale, went to the pool, shopped in the Highlands and had patio drinks at Noche with Melissa. 

Everything about it felt right. We meandered. We had no agenda. We laughed over ridiculous conversation, including: did the guy I met at the bar say he was in sales for Jesus or Cheez-its? Because it's a really big difference. And don't you think macaroons are the new cupcake? It was the kind of day that can only happen when everyone slows down - when no one is distracted, hurrying or watch-checking. 

I went to bed Sunday feeling extra grateful. For good friends, for more time, for sweet summer and for the feeling that even though life isn't always following the plan I intended, sometimes, you realize things are turning out even better than you could have planned. 

Happy Monday, friends. 

{three healthy habits}

I woke up on Monday acutely aware that there was exactly one month until my birthday. The day in and of itself almost felt important. One more month until I am 27. One month left of 26. 

In so many ways, the year has flown. I think back to my birthday last year and it feels like yesterday. But at the same time, so much has changed. It was a big year - and things like the rat house and my broken foot seem like ages ago. They seem like tiny dots in an otherwise lovely year - and yet I think of the time we were actually living with those rats, and it felt like each night lasted forever.

But isn't that so often how time goes? It has the ability to both fly by and stand still all at once.

Broken foot and stitches aside, it was a year of healthy habit making for me and as I strive to keep them up, I thought I'd share. Because if I'm going to chronicle my injuries, it only feels right to share the wins, too, right? 

1. Make self care a priority. I've chronicled the steps I've taken to unglorify busy and you've seen me fail a few times. But I've learned the value of rest - and it's something I will never forget. I will never again prioritize a 6 a.m. workout over sleep when I'm still awake at 1 a.m. I've learned to listen to my body (sometimes you've gotta cut that dairy or eat those eggs!). And I'm learning how to find rest in Christ even when life feels like it's swirling. And it feels good. Really good.

2. Quit the scale. Growing up, I never weighed myself. In fact, even throughout college I could never have told you how much I weighed. It just never crossed my mind to weigh myself. But when I joined my new gym in Atlanta, I had to pass the scale a every time I entered and exited. And what began as a once a week check in turned into a daily - or sometimes multiple times a day - habit. It gave me a very false sense of control, but could also make or break my day. How can a number - a 1-pound change - impact my entire day that much? 

The low point was this winter when I weighed myself on the scale and it was broken and said I was up 20-pounds from the day prior. Instead of believing everything my body told me (my clothes still fit, I didn't feel or look different), I believed the scale and couldn't shake the sadness I felt all afternoon. And then I decided I had to quit. I had never needed the scale to maintain my weight my entire life, so why did I think it helped me now? And golly, it feels so much better living without it. I couldn't even guess my weight today if I tried, but I know my clothes still fit. I'm not out of control without it. In fact, I'm more in control of my emotions and my diet, because they're no longer dictated by a number. 

3. Learn to say no, excuse optional. Saying no is hard. Really hard. And it's even harder to say it without apologizing or offering an excuse - especially to someone you care about. But sometimes you have to let your no be no, simply because whatever you're being asked to do doesn't fit with your life right now. Maybe you're overextended. Maybe you're trying to focus on something else. Or heck, maybe you just don't want to. But sometimes it's OK to simply say no.

And if it's appropriate, provide a reason. But unless you're truly sorry, don't apologize. Because after years of over apologizing, I began to realize that I was doing myself a disservice. I was taking on a burden I didn't need to feel and indicating to people that I owed them something I didn't really owe. Do I still say sorry when I mean it? YES! I am a huge believer in the s-word. But I don't say sorry when I haven't done something worth apologizing for anymore. And what I've found is that when I do say sorry now, it means a lot more, because I mean it very much.

So that's what 26 has taught me about healthy habit making. I can't wait to see what 27 has in store. But first, one more lovely month of good livin ahead!

Happy day to you!

better half

I was talking with a friend recently about a guy she likes, but she thinks he isn't interested. "I don't think I'm wholesome enough for him," she said.

To which our friend Katie had a vehement reaction ("preach!" I said) and Melissa promptly pulled up this pin.

And, although we laughed at ourselves for being complete girls and turning a real-life situation into a Pinterest-situation, the truth is, it's true.

The moment you begin to play the "I am not enough XXX for him" game, is the moment you stop and 180. It's the moment you remind yourself you are enough and vow never to utter those words again. 

There was a guy I dated a while back and I kept telling Courtney, "I am afraid I am going to mess it up." Because I really liked him. And I felt like he was great. And I feared he might be too great and I'd mess it up.

And she'd constantly tell me that I couldn't mess it up. Because when it's the guy you're supposed to end up with, you don't mess it up. He doesn't walk away when you're too noisy or say the wrong thing or are not wholesome enough. Because when it's right, it will be right.

I wish I could say I had learned this lesson the easy way, but instead, I've sat in relationships too afraid to be the full version of myself too many times. Too afraid to admit I did have an opinion on where we went to dinner. Too scared to speak up when I wanted something more - for fear I might be too demanding. Too afraid to admit when I was frustrated or mad - for fear I'd be perceived as unreasonable. 

But lately, what I've learned is that we don't have to be small. It's OK to have a voice and an opinion. It's OK to be the full version of ourselves - in fact - it's better. As Katie so wisely said this weekend, when you meet the guy you're supposed to be with, he will make you even more of yourself - he won't make you feel like you should be less of this or more of that [wholesome, even], he will encourage you to be the full version of you. And together, as one, you will be even better.

And that, my friends, makes my heart happy.