A decade is simply a word …

I don’t come to And 2 Makes Crazy often — my life in Poland turned into the mundane. My children grew bigger. My sanity slowly returned. And, yet, despite it all, life really hasn’t slowed. Life hasn’t gotten less crazy #worldpandemic, and, truth be told, we are still 2 — 20 years married now (YIKES) — and we still drive each other crazy. Er. I mean, we’re both crazy. Two and Crazy. Hence the title.

But, through it all, as the world spins, and time seems to fade away, my heart still remains my heart. And that will never change.

Even in a decade.

As October’s golden sun and brilliant leaves grace the skies and grounds – and we head into a month of thankfulness, I remain, forever, indebted to the littlest heartbeat of all for soul-crushingly teaching me the truths of life, delicate life, and love that has absolutely no end.

Xo from here to you!

B

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That’s why Moms were invented…

Disclaimer in case you like my husband better than you like me (smile and wink)… he knows I am writing this.

In fact, on the day that it happened, he was batting 0 all day long but my list of “What to blog” kept getting bigger and longer and funnier.

Hopefully I’ll come back to all of them.  But today I’ll start with this one…

The day started with me on the countdown: 3 more days until Richard leaves me in a little farming village and travels to the States for a month.  THEREFORE, I am going to lie in bed past time for kids to get out of bed…and daddy is going to get ALL 3 kids to school.

Now, to be fair to my husband, he is usually the one to feed, pack their bags, and drive them to school.

Wait?  What do you do?

I don’t know, honestly.

Maybe help choose clothes, comb their hair, and provide kisses???

I definitely get the coffee going.

In any case, it seems when moms are around (even if all we are doing is drinking coffee) the house just seems to be kept from burning down.

We notice things.

So, I roll down the stairs at a very lazy 9am.  Kids in school.  Husband back to work in his office.  And that’s when I smell it.

Plastic.

Burning.

On my kitchen table (that I painted, btw).

Yes.  The decade+2 daughter’s straightening iron was piping hot—burning a hole right through my adorable Easter bunny placemat (See, right there—that’s what I do!  I decorate for the Seasons and make the house feel “happy”.  Phew!).

I grabbed the iron, unplugged it (much too late, unfortunately, to save its life as the plastic had now become one with the iron), stuck it somewhere safe, picked up the placemat, got rid of the burning plastic smell by opening all the windows, made sure the wooden table had not yet become victim to the “iron” and walked past my husband saying, “That’s why moms were invented.”

Do you know what he said?

“I didn’t even know the iron was still on…”

Of course not.

Because, while he may be packing their bags, and second breakfast snacks, and feeding them breakfast and taking them to school, I am drinking my coffee and making sure the house is still standing.

And sending them off with kisses.

The best reason why moms were invented.

Now, back to my coffee…

(smile smile wink wink!)

 

The beats of my heart!

Life can be lived in the simple moments of family and nature, enjoying two of God’s priceless gifts.

I reflect, and often, on how my life was once full of sorrow at the hope destroyed of a baby we lost, bitterness at a marriage struggling, fear of a son dying, and exhaustion that it all never seemed to end. Seasons that seemed to toil forever.

Then I see these perfect mountains and I count 3 perfect children and I see a man I admire most on this earth and I realize that time can pull you through all things.

And God was there, steadfast, through it all.

Silence and struggle does not erase quiet, infinite care.

God bless you and yours, our friends, in your seasons of life.

#hisloveenduresforever #greatishisfaithfulness

My husband does not hear my voice. Proof!

  
My husband came in the door around midnight last night after an extremely long day of work.  I was so glad he was home to have a small spot of adult conversation before we went to bed.  You know that kind of conversation, it doesn’t revolve around, “Mom!  Watch me pee!  Mom!!!!  You’re not watching me!”  And since my littles are 3 and 5, this takes place approximately 1,234 times a day.  So, needless to say, even though it was midnight, I was sooooo happy he was home for a brief moment of adult conversation.

Well, that is—-until he started to speak.

You see, the thing is, I had always known my hubs didn’t listen to the words coming out of my mouth.  I just knew it—but his denial or reasoning always made me wonder if I actually said what I could have sworn I said.   

But last night changed everything for my husband.  He got caught.

Rich, the hubs, had to travel an hour home last night, and, so, during his hour, he called his parents.   We’re so thankful for this modern world of Internet and phone calls—you should have seen us in a foreign country during the days of phone cards and telephone booths.  Way different calling home.

Anyway, apparently he had a very enlightened conversation with his dad about something…

You see, we own a rather large plot of land in Poland that we are building into a ministry and retreat camping center.  It has a lot of grass/fields that need to be mowed.  We are thankful the former owner left us his old riding mower—but this thing is put together with tape it’s falling apart so badly.  Therefore, I have mentioned a million and one other ways for my husband to go about finding a good mower.  Including going to Germany to find a sturdy and proper one. 

In one ear and out the other.

Then my husband has one conversation with his dad, walks in at midnight, and declares, “My dad has a great idea!  I should look in Germany for a riding mower!”  

Poof and proof!

I knew he didn’t listen to the words coming out of my mouth.

But at least he still listens to somebody, eh?!  

Now, thanks to Grandpa George our Retreat center may actually be on its way to manageable one day.

No thanks, obviously, to me (smile and wink).

But, really, I’ll end with this—Ladies, just when you think they aren’t listening (yet again), be encouraged, “They aren’t.”  So if you really want to be heard, just get a man to say it.

The proof is in the mower.

Does anyone else out there have that husband problem????

Okay, seriously…Like I may be 41—but in my mind I am still some smoking hot babe…41 in wisdom, 25 in beauty and 18 in youth!

And then I go to my mirror…and I’m like 41???  51????  WHO IS THIS WOMAN?!

Reality registers.  Oh, yes.  It’s me.  Brooke Heidi.  I know me.  I have been me for a whole lotta years now.

Then I go into the other room and fresh out of the shower comes some man.  He has a lot of wisdom in his hair—which, in my wife-y opinion, makes him even WAY WAY WAY hotter!

And then he is dressed to the 9.  LIKE HIS STYLE IS SO AWESOME.  And he is just like, “Who me?  Oh, I just got out of the shower.  No big deal.”

It’s like a magazine cover walked into my home and here I sit—FEELING 18, THINKING 25 Hot Babe, and LOOKING like the extinct dinosaur.

How is it, Women?

Does anyone else out there have that husband problem—or is it just me?

Now some of you may say, “But, Brooke, you haven’t changed at all.”

STOP RIGHT THERE!

I’m not sure I take that as a compliment anymore.

Have I always been this frumpy?  This messy?  This wildly out of control?

Has this always been me?

Have I been blind sighted by my own wild imagination?

HAS MY MIRROR BEEN LYING TO ME ALL OF THESE YEARS???

So with those words, I shrug them off and say…

It’s all my husband’s fault.

Isn’t that the mantra of marriage anyway????

(Smile, smile…wink, wink!)

***

With that humor, I’ll sign off and say HAVE A GREAT DAY!

xoxo always,

The true half of crazy (B)

Record the delights in your heart

I pulled out a journal that my mom sent me for my 40th birthday the other day.  There is so much for me to write and see and say, and I wanted to begin to record.

But pulling out my journal brought me back to the last several years of my life and marriage.

If you have followed this blog since its inception 3 years ago, you would know that my husband and I have had to work really hard at our marriage.

One point, while we were receiving professional help, my husband was journaling.  It was a good thing.  Yet is was a VERY depressing thing.

While it was both cathartic and healing—it was just SO SAD!

And every time I read it, it was hard to read.

Hard times in life are hard.  And we need to share them with someone we trust—but that doesn’t make it easy.

So when I pulled out my journal…during a hard day of just being me, being mommy, being wife, I decided to do something different.

I decided that I was going to write about the joys of my day.  And while my children sat screaming and crying and throwing fits, I remembered that ONE moment of the day where they were pure joy—

And I wrote that.

And I giggled while I wrote.

And I shared with my husband what I wrote.

And we smiled.

Through the tears, through the difficulties, through the hard—we smiled…because, really, there was something to smile about.

Take for example, my family photo above.  My 2-year-old delight (sarcasm inserted here) cried and pouted and shouted throughout our entire photo session.  She was tired.  She was sleeping.  And she is two.  TWO.  That, in itself, is an answer for everything 😉

She did not want to smile for any photo.  It was impossible.  And as much as we tried, we just could not get that ideal and dreamy family photo that I had envisioned on the drive to the palace gardens where we were taking photos.

So we had to come to the conclusion to either leave her out of photos or just go with the flow.

And we did both.

When she wasn’t in the photos, we clicked magnificence.

When she was, we just had so much fun with her two year old pouty expressions…capturing not perfection but real life.

At the end of the day, when the gardens were about to be locked up, we wandered to the exit and just let the children run and play.  After all, they could get dirty now that mom had what she wanted.  That is when the sun actually came out.

No, dusk was on the horizon, but our 2-year-old Josephine ran and played and laughed and smiled.

And that is when my husband took back out the camera that he had already packed away and started to shoot.

And that’s when we saw her smile.

You know…It’s good to record life.  The ups and downs and all arounds.

But sometimes we especially need to record the joys—because they remind us to smile!

 

 

 

I’m just a little drama…that’s all.

I was dying today talking about my life with friends that I only have the immense love & privilege of seeing one time a year when I fly from Poland to the States to see and be with my parents and family.

DYING…

Like…I was on such a roll—sometimes I don’t know how I pull myself off of the floor and actually walk around in this life-like motion at all.  I should be more like Walking Dead Momma—and my kids should be GRATEFUL for that momma.

Anyhow—it totally dawned on me today that I am just a bit of drama.

You see, I thought my daughter was all of the drama.

I thought she got it from her daddy.

He is the Drama King.  I made him a crown.

But today when I was recounting all of my guilt trips and psycho parenting moments with my children and my HOW DARE MY HUSBAND SAY THAT stories, my peeps…my tribe…those that will ALWAYS tell me the truth told me that I was the drama.

SAY WHAT????

I literally had no clue.  HERE I WAS—blaming ALL of the drama on pretty much EVERYONE else in my family.

It’s kind of like those that have problems with everyone they meet—turns out it is THEM!  Yep—the ones with all of the problems.

Apparently, out of the mouth of true friends, I am that THEM.

But, please, please, please, please…let’s totally keep this a secret from my husband.  I still need him to think that it is ALWAYS ALL HIS FAULT!

I need this.

It is what is best for the family, right?!

(smile smile wink wink)

When you possibly share too much in marriage

So.  My husband and I share an iCloud account.  That means when he saves something, I get it===and vice versa.

Which also includes Apps.  You know.  Like on phones or tablets.

When he downloads an app, I get it.  And I get way too many.  He is always finding a new app for taking care of our money or making a calendar for a calendar or some random thing that this very tech-not-savvy woman has no idea how to use.  Unless it’s text messaging or shooting a photo, pretty much count me out.

Therefore, he was REALLY impressed when he saw a new app on his phone called LIFE.  He thought, “Awesome!  Brooke got us an app.”  And immediately he began to check it out.

It went something like this…(hilarious)

How much do you weigh?

Pounds or Kilograms?

He was thinking—awesome—maybe this is an app that will benefit me.  Perhaps a workout app.

Then it asked when he was to start.  He told them Monday, thinking Monday was a good day to start working out.

Then it asked when his last menstrual cycle took place…

That’s when it hit him…perhaps not all Apps should be shared.

Unless, of course, he wants to prepare to BEWARE!

Although I don’t believe any man can REALLY be prepared for that.

😉

 

Husband for Sale. Discount today only!

Did you happen to read yesterday’s post about the husband who says too much?  If you didn’t, I hope you’ll go back for a fairly decent laugh.  If you did, then this story, you will see, continues to compliment the ongoing humor in our marriage.  Enjoy!

So, this morning, after not sleeping all night due to two rotating toddlers switching non-sleeping schedules, my husband saw my scar where I had my C-Section.  He then proceeded to say, “Wow!  You can hardly see your scar.”

I looked down at my belly.  He was right.  It’s nearly invisible two years after my 10pound 10ounce baby’s birth.

But Richard—being Richard—didn’t stop there.

“Yeah.  It blends in now with the rest of your belly wrinkles.”

I looked at him and died laughing.  I said, “Oh no you didn’t!  Let me read you what I just wrote!”

And proceeded to read him the blog When Your Husbsnd Says Too Much!

He was, at this point, rolling.

After we all stopped laughing, my husband said, “Well.  Are there any takers?”

Where we began to laugh again.

Friends—

Yesterday he was For Sale.  Today he is free.

I’ll set him by the curb.

Beware:  He comes with a wicked sense of humor.

Oh.  And he eats a lot.

Come quickly, though, because it is cold outside.

When your husband says too much

My husband just arrived home from Taiwan.  I tried to look cute for his arrival.  I won’t say as cute as possible, because by the time I got my daughter out the door to school, let the dogs out, took care of the morning coal furnace, took a quick shower, and dressed/fed/watered two toddlers, I was already running behind for my hour journey to the airport.  I did my makeup in the car and actually went without coffee because I didn’t even have time for that.  No, the world did not end—in case you were wondering.  I suppose I can live without coffee if I must 😉

And we reach the airport a tad late.  No one’s upset. All happy.  Then we head home.

So exciting.  Lots of cuddling and chatting on the couch.

Then out come the fun selfies.  Yes.  I take selfies.

We, being the parents, were being silly.  Goofy selfies left and right.  Then we did what most do—we scrolled through the results.  That’s when my newly returned husband went from being my sweetheart to my nemesis, for this is the selfie, and then I’ll share what he said…

“Oh my!   How many chins do you have there???”

Really, Richard?  Really?

Needless to say, I have one husband for sale.

Any takers?