High Five for Friday

Youguysss. This week flew by.

Here are some highlights of this super fast week:

1. I like doodling.

2. I got my name changed!!! I'm officially a Farthing. (I know, I know. It took me long enough - four and a half months to be exact, but who's counting?)*

3. I went for a run yesterday after not running for... a while. And it was amazing. Every time I run I always wonder why I don't do it more often.

4. My car hit 90,000 miles this week :'( I always jeopardize my life to capture car milestones with a picture. I still don't know why I do this. It's so crazy to think of all the places my little car has taken me since my sophomore year of high school!

5. Thrift stores never disappoint. Seriously, who buys this stuff in the first place?

*I also downloaded A Beautiful Mess's new Instagram app, hence the cute border & doodle in this picture. The app is super fun. Check it out.

I'm linking up with Lauren Elizabeth for this post!

It's Complicated.

My 16-year-old self. Excuse the bad choice in jewelry and sparkle-filled lipcolor.

One time when I was 16ish I had a legitimate conversation with my "friendboy" about changing our Facebook relationship status to "It's complicated." Seriously, I should've punched him in the throat, walked away, and never had that conversation, but hindsight's 20/20, right? Moral of that story - there was absolutely nothing complicated about that relationship (we were dating just too juvenile to recognize it as such). But at the time I thought it was so complex - complex enough that only an "It's Complicated" status could suffice to explain it.

And I feel the same exact way right now.

Not with my relationship status (obvi), but with a career choice. And I think a lot of women face the same dilemma I'm staring down right now. Here's why its complex:

1) I want to be a momma. Ever since I can remember I've dreamt of having babies and staying home with them. This dream hasn't changed. I'm not trying to work 60 hours a week when my babies are 3, because seriously who else is going to feed them mass amounts of carotene-filled food so they have an orange glow and kiss their cheeks so they're slobbery all the time?!

2) When my kids grow up and are in school I don't want to be sitting around twiddling my thumbs and pick up some weird hobby to fill their absence. I can't become an animal hospital volunteer or take basket weaving at the local community college from 8am to 2pm everyday. I just can't let it happen.

I feel this tension between my deep desire to embrace motherhood and the feeling to achieve things outside of being a mom. Granted, I'm young and I just got married. I realize this. But somehow picking a career as a woman just feels so different than I think it would as a man. And don't get me wrong, having the pressure to provide as a man is not something I'm trying to take on.

Maybe you're feeling this too. And if not, that's okay, because I just mega-processed things that've been running through my mind for a few months. If you do happen to be tracking with me, I just discovered, in God's sovereign providence, a woman who is so inspirational and speaks to this divide, Lara Casey. You can read her story about starting her own businesses (yes, multiple!) and being a mama here.

On Being "Best Friends"

Lately I've been thinking about what it means to be someone's "best friend." In second grade (or even through high school for that matter) your best friend was likely someone you spent the most time or had the most shared interests with. And, let's be honest, in elementary school you probably had some sort of puzzle piece or heart jewelry that when united formed a saying like "Best Friends Forever."

But somehow the people I consider my best friends as an adult don't have those same characteristics. We don't see each other every day. In fact, I've found my best friends as an adult are people I typically see three times a month at best. And we don't play on the same sports teams or go to the same church service. And the whole matching jewelry that fits together thing went out of style a looong time ago so we don't have that either.

Adulthood best friends take work. I don't live with these women any more, nor do we go to class together. Instead, we plan weeks in advance to talk on the phone at the end of a long day or meet up for frozen yogurt when one of us is driving through the other's town. And while those things might be inconvenient and out of the way sometimes, its always worth it. I've found my relationship with my adult BFFs is a lot different, but not in a bad way. The time we do get to spend together is cherished more and we just pick up where we left off. It's almost sweeter now for some reason.

Playing House

This past week Miles and I played house. In all likelihood you too played house as a kid. Ya know, the whole I'll-be-a-mom, you-be-the-dad thing with stuffed animals and plastic food. Except this time someone actually trusted us with more than plastic food and inanimate stuffed play things - we were playing house with real live human beings. Four of them, actually.

Mornings were full of finishing packing lunches, yelling down the hallway seventeen times "Are you sure you brushed your teeth?!", and maneuvering through the carpool line at school. Days were quiet with only a little Kate with me and Miles at work. Then afternoons were crazy with more carpool lines, homework, snacks, and on Wednesday a quick trip to TCBY for Wafflecone Wednesday (obviously).

After two and a half days with four kiddos I learned a few things:

-Being a parent is no joke. It's hard work. And tiring. Miles and I were asleep each night by 10:00 p.m. from exhaustion.

-It's super fun and rewarding. Even though bedtime can be tough, its so sweet to snuggle a little girl til she's in the midst of a sleep stupor only to have her wake up when you leave to tell you goodnight and that she loves you. Pretty sure my heart melted in that moment.

-And most importantly - those kiddie carts at Target are MASSIVE and about as easy to maneuver as an Army tank (just guessing). I'm pretty positive I knocked over several Essie nail polish displays with that thing. Sorry, Target.

Cup Bump

In talking about marriage, Mark Driscoll says that it doesn't create sin, but rather exposes it. Like two cups bumping together, only to reveal whatever sin gets sloshed out of the cup. I think the same principle is true for general character, personality, quirks, etc. in marriage. So far I've learned a few funny things about both myself and Miles since being married (once again, its been four months so we're pros at it, obviously).

1. Mutual weirdness.
We are both weird. I'm pretty sure we were weird before we got married, but for some reason having a covenant with someone makes you feel free to let all your weirdness hang out. For instance, I now refer to Miles as "Freddy." Where I got this, I'm not sure, but he rarely gets called Miles by me anymore. And he rarely talks to me in a normal voice. Maybe for the first few minutes after he gets home, but that's just because he's still in office mode. Once the office wears off, he talks in all sorts of crazy accents. Being weird is fun. ...And weird. Duh.

2. Procrastinator.
I never realized I procrastinated on everyday things until we got married. I'll say I'm going to do something (example: brush my teeth, do the dishes, get ready for bed, etc.) only to put them off with snuggling, talking or doing something totally unrelated to the task I just announced I was going to complete. This probably is revealing of some major character flaw I have that I don't know I have. Excuse me while I psychoanalyze myself...

3. Homegirl.
I've found I'm a ridiculous homebody. Miles will get home, after being away from our house all day, and squirm and ask if we can go somewhere because he just needs to get out and do something. Me on the other hand, after being home all day long, will want to do anything but go out. I just love being at home.

Best Mom Award

In my mind, I'm going to be a pretty awesome mom. That's probably because I don't have kids yet.

I like to think I'll be a great disciplinarian and ride the line between friend-and-parent just right. But, let's be honest, I know all my idealism about parenting is probably gonna fly out the window once I have a sweet, snuggly, squishy-cheeked baby burrito in my arms.

Right now Miles and I talk about disciplinary techniques, how we're obviously not going to do the whole Santa thing, and we dream about fun vacations we want to take once we have little babies running around. But I'm sure the once the rubber hits the road, we're going to realize the whole parenting gig is simultaneously more difficult and more sweet than we ever could've imagined.

And speaking of rubber hitting the road, we're keeping four (yes, you read that correctly - four) girls and a puppy for two and a half days while their parents on a staff retreat with our church.

Aaand here are said children attacking Miles. This is gonna be an eventful few days :)

We are excited to spend time with these sweet girls + puppy, but I'm pretty sure after seeing my "parenting" skills in action over the next few days I will likely have to revoke my self-awarded Best Mom (To Be) Award. Excuse me while my ego shrivels a bit... 

That Time I Realized You Were Human

This weekend was full of painting our hutch (finally!), eating Monuts (what else is new?), going to church, and perusing the Farmer's Market.

Near the Farmer's Market there's a little path with a bridge and a cute turtle and cardinal. It's actually the spot where Miles and I had our first conversation. I, being sentimental, said something to the effect of, "Oh we have to take a picture! It's where we had our very first conversation!" Only to hear Miles say, "Yeah! It was the first time I recognized you as a human being!"

....What?

I'm not sure if he thought I was a robot before that conversation or if he just hadn't noticed me, but whatever it was, my trivia about North Carolina's state bird and reptile worked like a charm. I'm pretty positive there was no more nerdy way to start up a conversation with him, but it's par for the course.