Summer Cottage Time Capsule

The day started off like any other except I managed not to fall asleep until 5:45 am only to be awoken from my slumber at 6:03am to the chime of a text signaling the departure of the senior class on the senior trip.  I'm on my spring cleaning kick in June and my son is single-handedly sabotaging my efforts.  He has outgrown the counter space in his room and has moved all newly captured specimen to the living room, kitchen, and anywhere he decides is a cozy spot for eat particular creature.  Chloe remains ill and in bed.

The SUMMER COTTAGE

Today the trim carpenters came to the house to finish out Chloe's playhouse, or as it is fondly known in the Stricker household, "The Summer Cottage Time Capsule."  "Summer Cottage" refers to the cost being equal to that of a summer vacation for four to the Hampton's and "Time Capsule" refers to the size of the air condition unit Thadd purchased for the house that will cryogenically freeze you now for a thaw in one hundred years.  All in all, we've spent at least as much as the ones you buy on the internet that are delivered and built, but it will be a great place for her and her friends to have their own space when they don't want to entertain Brett AND it could work out as a great hiding place for me this summer when my kids say, "I'm bored!"

Chloe left the bed twice to inspect the work being done on her playhouse and Ruby bit Buster again.  Twice actually.  Luckily she only removed fur and didn't cut the skin.  You would think he would've learned the first time.  I thought Schnoodles were supposed to be smart.  I guess it's a boy thing.  They like to get their nose all up in the girl's business.  Literally.

ok, these could tempt me...they are APPLES!!

I made an afternoon visit to the chicken coop where I discovered no more chicken feed and one of the eggs that had been under my chicken for two weeks was pushed from the nest and eaten.  I was so sad. Chloe had secretly been allowing the chicken to incubate the egg and now it has been devoured by the other chickens.  I almost had another chicken tragedy last night.  This morning when I went to let the chickens out, one of my girls was out and about pecking the fresh morning bugs off the ground.  She must have found a spot to occupy for the evening that is NOT in the coop.  Let's hope I locate her spot this evening and reprogram her little chicken brain to go back in the coop each night.  I am not a fan of the headless strewn chicken body come morning.

Tonight I've decided to sleep with a broom under my pillow.  If the tooth fairy comes for teeth, the cleaning fairy comes for brooms and cleans your house while you sleep, right?  I wish the closets would organize themselves and all of the small shoes, socks, shorts, dresses, skirts, pants would separate themselves in to labeled bags.  Doesn't that seem like it should just happen?  Cleaning out my closet is actually a little easier and less stressful than cleaning out children closets.

This is how I looked in my head

After Chloe was born I was able to fit in my size 4 clothing, but after Brett was born I ballooned to 200 pounds before I was able to take control of my life.   I'm certain God played a huge role in all of the weight loss.   I was a size 4 in 2004,  size 12-16 in 2005-2009, 12-14 in 2010, 10 in 2011 and 2012, and I'm an 8 this summer.  Cleaning out my closet is much more joyful when I know the sizes are going down.  There is no better way to lose weight than to care about what goes in your mouth.  No chocolate cupcakes with sprinkles every week.  Moderation, listening to your body, and somehow figuring out a way to stop the aging process.  I'll let you know when I figure out the last one.

Last night I realized that in my head I was never 200 pounds, I was always 120 with a tiara on waving at the crowd.  It hasn't mattered what I actually looked like because my brain remained in a state of denial.  If you asked my neighbors during the 2005-2009 years when I had a pool in my yard, likely they would tell you that my bathing suits  should NOT have been made in my size EVER.  Without a care in the world I would prance out to the pool in my barely there strapless swimsuit.  You know how I feel about strap tans; NOT A FAN.  I lived on five acres, but I feel quite sorry for whomever caught a glimpse of all of that woman, because in my head I was still someone else.

If you are my neighbor now, you will find a slightly less offensive display of a strapless swimsuit with full coverage, rain boots, a ponytail in my hair and my polarized shades from the school's lost and found.  I am not the size 4 that I once was, but I am fully aware of my woman-ness and am thankful that my neighbors find entertainment in my absurdity instead of offense.  Please understand that I am not upset with the woman I am or with my body, I'm accepting and aware of what I have and NOW (finally) I wear appropriate swimwear.  Your WELCOME!

Oh wait, I forgot I found my swimsuit!!!

Some of you might remember last year's swimsuit shopping saga, CLICK HERE to view the blog post.  I still have photos on my phone of all of the really pretty swimsuits that should NEVER make a public appearance.  EVER.  It is a reminder of the woman I am now and of the importance of dressing for my actual physical(and emotional) self instead of for the size 0 DIVA in my head.  I suspect I will shop for swimsuits again this year, but last year my husband found my strapless swimsuit to make me look saggy (I offered a solution) and then tried to cover me with a towel in the one that held everything in it's proper geographical location before children.  Ahhh summer.  You bring such heavy emotional baggage.

I am thankful for the "Summer Cottage Time Capsule" because I need a quiet place to read a book.(Day 154).  Goodnight Friends.