Mr. and Mrs. Gore: The Blushing Years (Part 2)

Posted on June 14, 2013 by mrsgore81

continued from Part 1:

“I was painfully aware of him, each moment spent near him adding to my interest and my desire to know him better. Which, praise be to God, eventually came just a few months later…”

Mr. Gore came to our small town that May to take on a summer internship at our church.

A high school graduate now, I was nearly on an equal playing field with this young college boy, even though I still had the summer left before I would officially graduate from the youth group.

Thankfully, in the confines of our tiny town, he was forced to finally take notice of me, and before too long, he even knew my name.

And oh, how he could set my heart to beating!

It was difficult, being under his authority and tutelage, unable to even think about pursuing a relationship, yet wanting so badly to be noticed by him. Our youth group was full of attractive and wholesome young ladies, and at the time, though they would laugh at the idea now, many of my friends were also interested in this new boy; his presence that summer definitely sent a jolt of energy through the fairer members of our small town’s youth group. In fact, I would say the matchmaking mothers were even more atwitter than I was…

But it wasn’t too long before I noticed that, although a summer romance was strictly forbidden, there was an electricity between the two of us that surely I wasn’t the only one feeling. He was admittedly a bit of a flirt…what young, single man would not have enjoyed all that attention?…but when our eyes would meet, we would both begin that tell-tale fidgeting, and although he had to leave me guessing that entire summer what he really thought of me, I could sometimes read in his eyes that he admired what he saw. (And well he should have, the little toot!)

Thankfully, I had a little help in my pursuit of this romance. My bosom friend, Misty, and I concocted a game that summer to gauge Mr. Gore’s interest in me; both of us were back-up singers in our youth group’s praise band, and when we were on the stage during church services and he was in the congregation, I would yawn while Misty kept her eyes peeled to see if he yawned, too. Because, you know, yawns are contagious. Neither of us were very good at math, but that game was genius, if you ask me!…

and I’m sure it didn’t interfere with our worship. Not at all. We were super gifted at multi-tasking.

Anyhow, by summer’s end, after a week-long mission trip to Seattle that pushed us closer and closer together, I would say that I had very much fallen in love with…my gosh, there is a lump growing in my throat!…this most amazing man. I don’t think I could ever make a universal statement on the subject of soulmates and being “made for each other,” but I do know this…my heart, before we ever even went on our first date, was his. Forever.

And so I was absolutely bereft when he returned to college that Fall without ever declaring any kind of love, or even interest in me. We were now very good friends, to be sure, but nothing else. We had even gone to dinner and a movie with a dating couple in our church…not that we actually sat by each other in the theater (and believe me, the awkwardness was palpable when we chose seats on either side of the couple rather than next to one another…how were we supposed to brush hands in the popcorn bag when we were 3 seats away from each other?!).

And for the first time in my life, I truly pined for a man. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I became a bit listless, and even lost weight in his absence. Church became dim, no longer the place where I knew I would see him, but the place where he had been…

And so I can’t tell you how touching and sweet is the memory of the day when I sat at the kitchen table, feeling so forlorn and lonesome, not even aware of my sad countenance or that anyone was watching me, when my Daddy spoke up from his place at the table’s head. “Don’t worry, Lester…he’ll be callin’.”

My head snapped up, his words pulling me out of a fog. I had no idea my Daddy even knew of my secret love; I had hardly discussed it with anyone. “You think so?” I asked, kind of breathless and embarrassed at the same time. “You betcha.” he said, bolstering my spirit considerably, for my Daddy is the best judge of character that I know; if he thought Mr. Gore would call, well then, he would call.

Turns out, Daddy was wrong. He didn’t call.

But he did e-mail me…

And I e-mailed him back.

And he e-mailed me again.

And I e-mailed him back.

And on October 28th, 2000, we met up with my now sister-in-law Amy and one of her friends at a Coach’s restaurant in Norman to watch the OU vs. Nebraska football game. It was one of those “non-date” kind of outings that we actually claim as our anniversary now, because somewhere between our appetizer at the restaurant, the football game, the 30-minute drive to a youth rally where I was singing and our youth minister was preaching, and the 2-hour drive back to my home, we became an item. Love still had not been declared, nor had he even asked me to be his, but believe me, the feelin’ was mutual, and we both somehow knew it…

and “the blushing” had just begun!

Part 3, coming up soon…

Mr. and Mrs. Gore: The Blushing Years (Part 1)

Posted on June 13, 2013 by mrsgore81

dedicated to my husband

How does one sum up the most important moments and events in their memory?

How can I possibly convey the beauty of a story that is really commonplace…people fall in love every day…but paramount in my own life? An event that set my feet on a path that I never could have dreamed of?

The task of retelling my love story is daunting, as it includes a hundred glances, thousands of moments blurring into days blurring into years, a depth of feeling that is unfathomable, and yet it is the billionth verse of the same song that people have been singing since the beginning of time…

We met, we fell in love, we married.

Nothing new.

But so very new to me…

I distinctly remember the first time I laid eyes on him. I was a cheerleader, standing in my usual spot on the football field, doing what I remember doing most of my high school years, constantly moving, and laughing. How I miss that energy…when I think about the girl I was just twelve short years ago, I see a girl who hardly sat still and who thought everything was throw-my-head-back-and-laugh hilarious.

I had one friend who inspired most of that laughter, who on game nights disappeared into a mascot uniform and took her place next to me on the field, persistently slaying me with her slapstick body language and witty comments. We were caricatures of a cheerleader and mascot, making fun by throwing ourselves into our respective roles with major gusto and exaggeration. Spirit fingers were our favorite.

Anyway, it was just a typical gamenight, Danielle and I cutting up and making those spirit fingers…until I looked up and saw a “new boy” following my youth minister up the ramp to our elevated bleachers. His shirt was namebrand, Tommy Hilfiger to be exact, his hair was red and curly (my Mom’s favorite) and I was immediately smitten.

Now before you melt into the floor at my love-at-first-sight retelling of our story, let me fess up and tell you that, at the time, I was smitten with anyone of the opposite sex, especially at first sight. I was not the brightest bulb in the something (see, I can’t even get cliches right), nor was I the most discerning. I. loved. boys.

Especially this one.

“Danielle,” I exhaled, grasping her arm with my slender and well-groomed teenager fingers. “Who is that?!”

I watched his ascent up the ramp as if a spotlight had landed upon him, illuminating his newness, his spectacular hair and the chiseled structure of his ruddy face, and the royal blue-and-white checkered-print on his shirt.

And for the remainder of the football game, my eyes involuntarily flitted to where he sat at least every five seconds. I couldn’t help it; I was dyin’ to know who this stranger was and what he was doing in my neck of the woods.

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long to find out…

For just hours later, in our church’s youth building, I sat on the floor alongside my youth group and many young people from the town, listening to this young man preach at our post-game Bible Study.

Any interest that had been piqued at the football game was now a full-fledged crush, for not only was he cute as a button, he was Southern Baptist, and even better, he was a preacher, conveniently meeting every major characteristic on my list of standards.

And if you think I’m talking about a proverbial list, then you don’t know Southern Baptist girls. We ALL had a list, a real one, tucked away in some special hidden place, with the must-have characteristics of our future husbands written out, in order of priority.

We’ll ogle over and flirt with anybody (I’m looking at you, Justin Timberlake), but when it comes to marriage, that list is law.

And so my heart was officially atwitter.

Sadly, I didn’t see the young Mr. Gore again until many months later at our church’s Spring Break retreat in Oklahoma City, where we were joined by another church…

but not just any another church.

Mr. Gore’s home church.

By this time I had solved the mystery of why he had come to our small town in the first place: my youth minister, Mat, was previously his youth minister and mentor, and the two were very close friends. And even though Mr. Gore was now a college freshman at Oklahoma Baptist University and no longer in his church’s youth group, I had my fingers crossed that he would make an appearance at some point during the week.

And oh, did he.

He was just as precious and funny and breathtaking as he had been in the Fall, causing those initial feelings of admiration I experienced when I first saw him to clench themselves into my heart and dig a little deeper.

In that half-week retreat, he went from being someone I had seen once and found attractive to being the boy who dominated my daydreams and made my heart pound in my chest. I was as smitten as ever, but for real this time, and almost exclusively. (What? A girl needs more than a week to be cured of boy craziness…).

Therefore, I am loathe to admit that Mr. Gore still did not know I existed. He has no memory of my being at that retreat or ever meeting me (even though we had a riveting one-minute discussion on why Honey Nut Cheerios trumped all other cereals!) which really just eats my lunch, for two reasons:

1. I was in no way used to not being noticed, and

2. I was painfully aware of him, each moment spent near him adding to my interest and my desire to know him better.

Which, praise be to God, eventually came just a few months later…

Part Two, coming soon to Mrs. Gore’s Diary

Miss Sunday’s Birthday Adventure

Posted on June 10, 2013 by mrsgore81

Our firecracker of a second child, Rebekah Sunday, turned 4 years old on Saturday…

I honestly can’t believe it.

It is incomprehensible that the baby girl that completely stole my heart in 2009 has been in our possession for as many years as I was in high school. It doesn’t seem possible! And so, with much sighing and sulking, I continue to be convinced that the more ironically cruel twist in all of nature is that time seems to speed up just when you start wishing it would slow down a little…

But, as usual, I digress.

We had that killer tea party for both of our girls last week, which left us free to relax and enjoy Rebekah’s actual birthday to the fullest. Her entire day was jammed full of special family togetherness, so that, by the time we returned home, my husband and I literally fell on the floor into exhausted heaps of unusefulness. We turned on a movie, ate popcorn for supper, and I think it was a couple of hours before I realized that Betsie was still wearing a swim diaper and had probably been peeing and leaking all over the house…

But, in the midst of all the splash-parking and restauranting and bike-riding, there was definitely one part of our day that stood apart from the rest, and I am so excited to share it with you today.

A couple of months ago, our good friend and brother, Brian, shared a blog post with us. Brian is the music expert in our world and has introduced us to so many richly theological worship songs that have become foundational in our family’s life. One of his favorite artists is JJ Heller, and before you go any further, you really need to go and visit the blog post that he sent for us to read that day (click here).

Have you read it yet?

Shoo! Go read it! Spit spot.

Okay. Welcome back. I missed you.

So that blog and video blew me away.

Especially this part:

“When one woman asked Lucy why she was giving daisies away, Lucy replied, ‘Because you are special.’ I can’t tell you what a proud mama I am. The name Lucy means bringer of light, and from the moment she came into the world, she has lived up to her name.

I’m often tempted to stay in the safety of my minivan; to stay tucked away in my seemingly safe, non-confrontational life. I’m realizing that lives are changed when I have the courage to step into the unknown. The more I know that I am loved, REALLY loved by the Creator of the universe, the more I can share that love with others. Thank you, four-year-old Lucy Love, for showing me how to be brave. By God’s grace, I hope to be a bringer of light too. All it takes is getting out of the minivan.”

Not only did I identify so completely with JJ’s own anxieties and practices (I ALWAYS stay in the minivan), my heart absolutely mirrors her own in the way I feel about my own 4-year old daughter…

I am in awe of my little girl. Everything that I am, she is not, everything I am not, she is, and every area where I am weak, she is strong. Brave, unblinking, unafraid, uninhibited. She can go tinkle in the pasture standing up without getting a drop on her. She is the best wrestling buddy her big brother could ever ask for. And she doesn’t think twice about flagging down the waiter at a restaurant to ask for “more ketchup” or “some more Sprite”. I marvel over this aspect of her personhood, and thank God with all my heart for giving her a less timorous spirit than my own.

And I seriously cannot wait to see how He uses her gifts to bring light into to this dark world.

And this is why Brian sent us JJ’s blog post in the first place: “Saw this blog post and video and immediately thought of Miss Sunday in Lucy’s roll. She would have loved that!”

Which got me thinking, after I sopped up my tears from watching the beautiful video that JJ shared in her blog…

Why don’t we do this with Rebekah?

How about, on her birthday, we allow her to bring a little of her 4-year old light onto someone else’s path?

And that’s exactly what we did. On the way to her favorite store (“the baby store”, also known as Pottery Barn Kids), we stopped at Wal-Mart, bought two dozen roses, trimmed them, and placed them in her Easter basket. And once we arrived at Utica Square in Tulsa, we followed behind Rebekah as she passed out flowers to complete strangers, surprising them and blessing them in ways that we would probably never know…

She did experience one moment of shyness when we were about to walk by a sidewalk restaurant. “We can stop now and go to the baby store…” we told her, wanting this to be a good experience for her and not something we pushed her into.

But she squared those little shoulders back and carried on, giving out every last rose in her basket…

Did Rebekah change the world with her roses and kind greetings?

Probably not. But as we walked around the corner on our way back to Pottery Barn Kids, I saw a woman at an outdoor Starbucks table looking at her pink rose, smelling it, deep in thought…

did she feel loved that morning? I hope so.

And when we returned to our van after playing at PBK, the security guard you saw pictured above was waiting for us on the sidewalk (our van was covered with shoe-polish birthday messages – hard to miss!). Rebekah’s light had reached his soul that morning, and he had been so deeply touched by her birthday flower that he wanted to treat her to some cotton candy ice cream at the Russell Stover store!

We drove to meet him across the Square, and after he purchased treats for our children, we conversed with him at a little seating area outside. “I’ve been working as a security guard for 5 years here,” he said, “and nothing like this has ever happened to me…”

Did he feel loved that morning? I know so.

And as I watched my beloved daughter lap up that pretty pink-and-blue ice cream, my heart swelled with love and pride and gratitude, and I prayed that, on her 4th birthday, she not only got a taste of how great it is to be loved and showered with gifts and attention and special treats and outings, but to love others and to bring the light of Christ into their world.

I’m pretty sure the ice cream helped seal the deal…

Happy Birthday, Rebekah Sunday!

You are loved, indeed.

Special thanks to the amazing and beautiful JJ Heller for this lovely idea, and for Brian Barnes for sharing it with us. We are so grateful!

Want to read more about Rebekah? Here are some of my favorites:

her birth story: Small Elephant Remembers Rebekah (Part One) and (Part Two)

My Sunshine at Night

Sunday, Sweet Sunday and (part 2) Wake Up, Little Sunday

My Clothesline Companion

The Wrath of Miss Sunday

A Small Update from Small Elephant

Posted on June 5, 2013 by mrsgore81

Sometimes I forget that I’m pregnant.

And then I walk in front of my vanity mirror. (Seriously, Kate Middleton is 8 months pregnant and it looks like she swallowed a little kids’ basketball. I am 6 months pregnant and it looks like I swallowed Kate Middleton).

Or I open up the refrigerator to retrieve a carton of eggs, marvel over how light it is, and then open it to realize that it contains exactly one dozen cracked-open-and-used-up eggs; I have no recollection of either using them or putting them back in the refrigerator instead of the trashcan where they belong (Momnesia).

Or a spilled drink in the living room leads to a massive hormonal breakdown wherein I lament the loss of “my happy heart”. When my husband reminds me of how happy I felt all weekend, I wail that “it only lasted for…TWO DAYS!!!!” (Which really is quite sad and cry-worthy).

And with these glaring reminders, I remember…

I’m so pregnant.

I keep trying to function as if I am not.

But I am.

Really and truly and undeniably pregnant.

Which explains a lot. The crying. The impatience. The fuzzy brain. My giant, poofy, out-of-control hair. The nearly 80 rough drafts in my blog’s system, waiting to be completed. The unfinished books I am…or was…writing…

On Monday, I shared the following update on facebook:

“I was just working on a blog post yesterday about the peace and contentment that blanketed my spirit all weekend…
and then today I’m like ‘EVERYBODY PIPE DOWN AND LET ME EAT MY ICE CREAM!!!!!’

Pregnancy hormones. I need to start writing my posts in one sitting before the voice and tone in my head changes drastically…I have no idea now how to finish yesterday’s post.”

Which is just so true. It is exceedingly difficult to be a writer…or a blogger…or even a person…when you are a different shade of crazy for every day of the week. The sentimental and tender-hearted sap that you were on Saturday is a raging and frustrated maniac on Monday, and trying to find the girl that you were a week ago is as difficult as finding a carton of eggs in your refrigerator that actually has eggs in it.

Lord, have mercy.

So if my blog seems a bit…erratic…lately, that’s because it is.

I’ll be all lovey-dovey about Mr. Gore one day, and then the next day I’m on a cleaning rampage and am decluttering like Martha Stewart is coming over for supper, and then the next day I’m making promises to revisit the mischievous adventures of Betsie Fair, and then the next day I sit down to write a follow-up post to any of the above series and I go “blink, blink. Who am I? What have I been writing about this week, again? Did I mention something about a June bride series? Did we really have a tea party at my house on Saturday? And where are my eggs, for crying out loud?!…“

But the good news is, I know from experience that, Lord willing, these things will pass, and one fair day I’ll realize out of the blue that…

Sigh.

I’m nice again.

I’m on top of things.

My happy heart is back.

My blog makes sense (sort of).

I don’t look like I swallowed a princess.

I no longer want to rip my quilt in half when the kids are being loud…

Mrs. Gore is back!

Until then, I promise to hang in there, and even to keep blogging, if you promise to hang with me and have zero expectations for me to follow through on anything I tell you I am going to do.

Promise?

Pinky promise?

Me, too.

Now seriously. Where are my eggs?

Coming up next at Mrs. Gore’s Diary…I have no idea!

A “Tea For Two” Birthday Party

Posted on June 3, 2013 by mrsgore81

On Saturday morning at 11:00, after working harder than I think I did for my own wedding, we welcomed guests into our completely-transformed house for a special “Tea for Two” birthday party for our little girls, one of whom was turning 4, one of whom was turning 2…

get it? Tea 4 2?…

How sad is it that I sprang out of bed late one night to write the name of this party down, and then clapped my hands with glee and dubbed myself a “genius”?…

Don’t answer that.

Anyhow, why was our house transformed? Where was our typical and expected party backdrop of the great outdoors?

Four words: Tornado watches. Rain. Oklahoma.

But after my initial disappointment over moving our par-tay indoors, I discovered that this was quite a blessed turn of events, and I was able to spend days setting everything up “just so”, rearranging our entire abode like it was a life-sized dollhouse, cleaning, scrubbing, baking, and decorating like there was no tomorrow. And, by the grace of God, I actually had fun doing it.

Little girls are some kind of magic, aren’t they? I’m still giddy over this entire party, full of sweets and treats and flowers and nostalgic sugar-and-spiceness. Take a look…

(but first, if you want a little background music while you peruse our party, just push play. We love you, Doris!)

I am sorely tempted to leave my living room set up this way…wouldn’t it be nice to wake up to a beautiful dessert table every morning?…

I purchased the old screen at a vintage show in Tulsa a couple of weeks ago, and can’t wait to see how many ways I can use it. The wooden “Tea for Two” letters were purchased at Michael’s and spray-painted a light aqua color, and then hung with crocheted ribbon and twine.

On the treats menu: strawberry cake and cupcakes (from a box) topped with Paula Deen’s delicious strawberry icing, mini Kentucky butter cakes, Paula Deen’s lemon blossoms, strawberry shortbread cookies, miniature buttermilk pies, raspberry tarts, Pepperidge Farm butterfly crackers, and fresh strawberries.

To decorate, I used pink roses (of the regular and miniature variety) and baby’s breath, teapots and teacups, vintage handkerchiefs, doilies, and our typical collection of cake and treat stands. If you have any questions about where I purchased anything, please ask in the comments section and I’ll try to help you locate what you’re looking for.

We came up with the raspberry tarts recipe “on the fly”, but as they seemed to receive more compliments than anything else, I thought I’d share the “recipe”: phyllo cups from the grocery store freezer section, instant vanilla pudding, canned whipped cream, and a raspberry. You are so welcome.

Since the only tea we actually served was iced with lots of sugar in it and guzzled from huge glasses, we put the cupcakes in teacups to go with our party theme. So easy. And the cupcake toppers were made with toothpicks from Cracker Barrel (they have pretty tops), and red twine tied in a little bow. Also…so easy.

We only have approximately 400 cupcakes left…

Inspired by this party, I made bagged lunches for each child with a brown paper bag, craft paper from Michael’s (that somehow exactly matched my girls’ dresses), a white doily and red twine. Inside was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a little pouch of raisins.

Simple and sweet!

We set up a drink station on the vintage rolling cart we keep in our pantry and served raspberry lemonade, sweet tea, and water. The mason jar lids were purchased here (TOO cute!!), and the aqua-striped straws were purchased here.

Any of the paper decorations you see are from the Martha Stewart line of party supplies and were also purchased at Michael’s.

The old buffet in our dining room served as a nice gift table, and a wooden “2″ and “4″ indicated whose gifts belonged where (these numbers were also used in the girls’ birthday pictures)…

This precious birthday-card-download was purchased here. All I had to do was print it on cardstock, cut it out, back it with our extra paper from Michael’s and frame it!

Don’t you think gift tables look especially nice when they are full of GIFTS from loving family and friends?! Me too.

The party schedule was pretty simple. While the girls were having their pictures taken (by my amazing sister-in-law, Amy), Mr. Gore took all the party guests upstairs to teach them a fun birthday song to sing for the birthday girls. When everyone was finished, we set the girls on our barstools and brought all their friends downstairs…

The song was hilarious, and so much fun. Thanks a million, Mr. Gore!

And the girls loved being serenaded by their friends!

Then, before the girls got dirty and sticky like I knew they would, we blew out candles…

First, Betsie Fair…

then Rebekah Sunday.

Lunch was then served on the front porch…

and it was good.

After lunch, the kids were free to partake of the treat table and to play in the designated areas we set up for them, the girls in the super-girly sunroom, and the boys in the upstairs nursery…

It was a beautiful day to celebrate two of the greatest gifts God has given us…

Tea for two…

and two for tea.

Want to remember this idea? Pin it!

To see more of my inspiration for this party from Pinterest, click here.

A Betsie Kind of Day

Posted on May 30, 2013 by mrsgore81

Today our family will celebrate the 2nd birthday of that doe-eyed little baby girl, our beloved Betsie Fair…

The sweetest and most docile baby I’ve ever known, I had dubbed her my “cricket”, my Beth March, my pet. But the above picture is one of my most cherished because that tiny piece of clover in her mouth, right underneath those huge, shining, innocent eyes, represents a major shift in our life, one that we are still dealing with and feeling the aftershocks from these many, many months later…

That was the day that the real Betsie began to emerge, and the clover I dug out of her mouth after this picture was taken was the first of countless – and I do mean countless – items I retrieved from her grasp, whether from her teeth, or her tightly-clenched fist. And that’s when I wasn’t retrieving Betsie herself from the back row of the church van, from the kitchen counter, from the middle of the table, from the church’s soundbooth, from toilet stalls, and, most notably, from the window display at Pottery Barn Kids…

She has become a babbling, singing, nonsensical lightning bolt that streaks past me these days, usually inexplicably naked, and more often that not, I have no idea what to do with her.

You know why?

No matter what kind of mischief she is in, she still looks at me with the same expression that she is wearing in that picture. Naive. Mostly innocent with a hint of impishness. Full of love and joy and wonder…

She may be a lightning bolt, but she is also a ray of sunshine, constantly bringing light and laughter to our household.

As far as birthdays go, she doesn’t really get it, and I shared the following post on my personal facebook page last week:

Rebekah and Betsie are almost exactly 2 years apart (June 8th and May 30th), and so I can’t help but compare them sometimes. By this age, Rebekah was speaking full paragraphs and singing complete hymns, and I felt like we could communicate perfectly. On the other hand, here’s the conversation I had with Betsie today:
Me: Did you know your birthday is next week, Betsie?
Betsie: (blank stare, blink, blink)
Me: You’re going to be TWO!
Betsie: Huh-uh.
Me: Yes, you’re going to be two!
Betsie, shaking her head: No.
Me: Yes…
Betsie: Pancakes.
Me: (blank stare, blink, blink).

None of us ever really know what she is thinking, but as far as we can tell, she is in no way grasping that this grand day of May 30th belongs to her. But I know, and I will be spending the day drinking in the blessing and the quirkiness of my Betsie Fair, counting our memories together and praying for many, many more. Even as I follow along behind her, trying to keep her alive and out of the dishwasher…

Happy Birthday, Pinky!

p.s. You can stop eating clover now. Seriously.

Here are some of my favorite Betsie stories from the archives. And I promise to write more about her in the weeks to come!

Gideon Meets Baby Betsie

I Will Trust in Thee (Betsie’s birth story)

The Birthday Girls (because today is ANOTHER precious girl’s birthday, too! Love you, Abba!)

Following Baby Betsie

A Storybook Halloween (because I still can’t get enough of Granny)

Disneyworld Who?

Posted on May 29, 2013 by mrsgore81

Those of you who follow my blog’s facebook page (because I obviously needed a place on the internet to share more words and pictures!!!…) know that I shared the following status update last Thursday night:

“I understand that places like Disneyworld are magical and memorable family destinations and if we had extra cash laying around, I would be the first in line…

but there’s something awfully fun about declaring a weekend “staycation” and going to the grocery store with your family to buy everyone their own pint of ice cream and their own box of sugary cereal.

I got Ben & Jerry’s Red Velvet Cake Ice Cream and a box of Cocoa Puffs…”

This is true, and I still have the tummy ache to prove it.

But let me backtrack for a minute…

When my parents announced that they would be going out of town with my brother and his family over Memorial Day weekend, my Mom offhandedly mentioned that Mr. Gore and I were welcome to crash with our brood at their cozy little home in the country. She is always and forever making generous offers like this, and so I just kind of brushed off the thought of it, initially.

But as a very hectic week progressed, and as Mr. Gore’s old back injury continued to flare up more and more with little relief, I began to really mull over her offer. Wouldn’t it be nice, I thought, to “get away” for the weekend and truly relax, without really having to “get away”? For my parents happen to live 10 short miles away from us…

I finally mentioned the option to my husband, and before I knew it, our plans were set in stone: a 4-night family “staycation” to our home away from home.

And, as usual, I learned a few things on our “trip” concerning “staycations” in general, and ours, in particular, and I thought today would be a good day to pass them on to you. Because I really do love you, you know. You can thank me in heaven. Or, if you don’t want to wait that long, in the comments sections below. Or both. It’s up to you, really…

1. Seriously. The first night of your vacation, go to the grocery store as a family and buy whatever the heck kind of junk you want. Aside from each of us buying our own pint of ice cream and our own box of cereal, we bought potato skins, fried green beans and cheesecake from the freezer section, chocolate donuts, strawberry cookies (Betsie’s choice), special granola bars, loads of fresh berries, and the first can of Pringles I’ve bought in nearly a decade. I haven’t had that much fun at the grocery store since I was leeching off of my parents and writing checks like there was no tomorrow.

2. The whole point of a staycation is to STAY. So yeah, yeah, I know we broke the rules a little and stayed at our home-away-from-home, but we really had to and here’s why: at our home in town, the phone rings a lot, we have to wear clothes all the time, and our kids have to come inside to use the bathroom. Though my parent’s house is very close by, it is extremely remote, and all of our town rules can be broken. So if you can, staycate in the country, where your kids can swim in their undies and skitter across the pasture to go tinkle.

3. However, if you want to have a romantic getaway, do not sleep in your parent’s room. Or in your parent’s house, for that matter. My most heartfelt apologies, Mr. Gore. I was wrong. You were so right.

4. Keep in mind that staycations can bring with them a fair share of hard work. I told my Mom that I am forever blaming our messy house on all the stuff we own, and the types of floors we have that “show dirt”, but, I learned something during our 2nd day at her house without her there to help me manage everything: It’s not our stuff. It’s not our floors. It’s us. We’re a mess.

And while it was so nice to be away from all of the looming projects that I am constantly aware of in my own home, I still had to clean a lot, do lots of laundry, cook lots of food, shepherd lots of hearts, bathe lots of kids, and I still fell into bed, exhausted, by the end of each night. It put things in perspective for me, though, and helped me to better recognize and come to grips with the true nature of this season of our life, full of the fun and wonderment of childhood, yes, but also full of nonstop work. No matter where we go or where we are. Even on vacation. But especially on staycation.

5. You know what’s awesome? Packing light, wearing your clothes, getting them unbelievably dirty, washing them that night, folding them, and putting them on again the next day before repeating the entire process all over again. I could get used to that, especially for the kids…so this is me, declaring war on their closets the minute I finish this blog post. Or the next day. Next week. Well…just, soon. I mean it.

6. On a real vacation, you usually take your family to places they’ve never been, so on a staycation, it is only reasonable to invest in a few movies your kids have never seen, some games they’ve never played, and maybe some toys they’ve never played with. In our case that meant “Summer Magic”, Go Fish, and a huge box of sidewalk chalk that had vibrant colors the likes of which we have never sidewalk-chalked with.

7. Go on walks. Play outside. Read stories. Take naps. Play games. Watch movies. Dance in the rain. Take your first swim of the summer. Get muddy. And be prepared to bathe your kids no less than 8 times a day as a result.

8. But most of all, get ready to enjoy living and see with fresh eyes the simple pleasures that are available to you every day of the year if you could just take the time to notice and enjoy them. Nature, family, home, ice cream…

it doesn’t take much, does it?

Disneyworld is still on my list of wishes, and perhaps someday, I’ll be taking snapshots of my kids at the Magic Kingdom. But until then, I think we’ll survive just fine in our own neck of the woods…

p.s. the Pringles were delicious.

The June Bride Rejoices

Posted on May 22, 2013 by mrsgore81

I didn’t realize it until this past week, but it sometimes causes me great trepidation that what I share here at Mrs. Gore’s Diary will cause a reader, perhaps walking through suffering or experiencing a life very different than mine, to experience discontentment or frustration with their own life…

And my trepidation is so great that I often hold back for fear of wounding a soul in distress who happens upon my words.

Will the single woman be saddened by my glowing endorsement of marriage?

Will the childless woman feel pain when I describe the more glorious aspects of motherhood?

Will someone mistake my blessings as luck, or worse, God being nicer to me than He is to them?

It pains me to even think of it.

And as a result, I sometimes filter my happiest moments, for fear of adding to the potential hardships of my sisters in the faith.

But the thought came upon me this past week that, while my heart is pure in those thoughts, I might be doing a disservice to the path God has set my feet upon and that, in a world that is ever attacking the family, and marriage, and motherhood, and femininity, I should speak more honestly and comprehensively about my life, even on my very best days. As much as I strive to remain transparent in my struggles as a wife and mother, so I should strive to remain transparent in my joys and triumphs.

If I am going to consider honesty one of the most important aspects of my writing, then…I must be honest through and through, yes?

It was good – or more likely, supernatural – timing, for my heart is extremely full tonight, and for good reason…

Mr. Gore.

Our days with little ones are hectic. Distracting. Busy.

During our courtship, we had little more to do than see every movie that was released and work really hard at not fornicating. But these days…well, we’re wiping kids and looking for missing shoes and strapping babies and toddlers into carseats and peeling and slicing apples and running up and down and up and down and up and down the stairs and breaking up fights and, basically, working around the clock, not only to keep our 3 little ones alive and healthy, but to train them in the fear and knowledge of God and to lead them in the ways of Christ.

Exhausting.

Bringing up children is without a doubt the hardest work I have ever done, and Mr. Gore is right there alongside me, working as hard as I am.

Therefore, on most nights, after finally tucking our ragamuffins into bed, we quite literally collapse into two separate heaps in the living room, me on our old antique settee (with springs that poke me in the bottom), him in our favorite leather chair, and, aided by our favorite sitcom of the moment, we allow ourselves to just relax and melt into the deliciously quiet evening.

And it just happens. The days are so full and the nights become so habitual that…sometimes I forget to think about him.

Oh, I kiss him goodbye and I welcome him home and I laugh at his jokes and I work by his side and I cuddle up next to him at night, but somehow, in the midst of living, I can fail to ponder and relish the gift of…him.

But the other night, I had this dream. I was contractually bound to another man in an old-fashioned betrothal, but I was madly in love with Mr. Gore. And he was in love with me. Separated from him in my dream, and intent on being with him forever, my heart – the real one, not the dream one – must have quickened within me, and as I continued to sleep and eventually view our happy and triumphant ending, my eyes were miraculously pulled out of the fog of our daily routine, and I woke up with an incredibly happy heart, one that was focused and fixated on this man who has stood faithfully beside me through nearly 8 years of marriage.

I woke up in love.

And my, it felt so good to go about my regular duties with a lovesong in my heart, one that saw beyond the work I was doing and was intentionally and singularly focused on one of the greatest gifts God has given me.

My husband.

My partner.

My best friend.

He knows more about the ugliest parts of my heart than anyone else on the planet, and he loves me anyway. He has seen me at my most raw and vulnerable and he doesn’t scorn me the next day. He has heard my grittiest confessions, and he freely forgives, every time.

And, though human and as prone to failure as the rest of us, he strives to love me as Christ loves the church.

And that is my favorite part of our love story, and one that I am now committed to proclaiming, not that we’ve stumbled into some kind of Disney-prince-and-princess-happily-ever-after, but that our faithfulness to one another and our enjoyment of our married state points to something far more beautiful than the fleeting and emotional love that this world seeks so doggedly after and always fails to find…

it points to something higher. Something truer. And something very, very lovely.

Redemption.

Salvation.

Sanctification.

Grace.

Because, without the grace of God, and built on anything other than the truth of Scripture, our marriage would be nothing more than a roll of the dice, hinging on how we woke up feeling that day and whether or not we had a good dream during the night.

It is that great grace, undeservedly given, that enables us to choose to love each other. For life.

I don’t know about you, but I think that makes the story of Aladdin and Jasmine seem kind of lame in comparison. Magic carpet ride…meh.

That lovesong in my heart only continues to increase as our 8th wedding anniversary draws nigh.

A couple of days ago, I watched my favorite movie with my kids, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, and the “June Bride” song that our entire wedding was built around brought back so many cherished memories that I was practically a puddle of sentimentality by the time the movie was over.

And so if you don’t mind, I’d like to revisit some of those memories here in the weeks to come.

Not to make you gag.

Not to make you pine.

Not to make it seem like my life is all sunshine and flowers and roses…

but to recount how faithful God has been to two people who were conceived in sin and came into this world hating the Light.

Let us all start cherishing and celebrating our marriages, not because we are “lucky in love”, but because they can be one of the most beautiful tools used to point a dying world to a very living Savior.

Especially those of us who married in June…

My Sweet Home: Junk Be Gone! (Part 3)

Posted on May 15, 2013 by mrsgore81

After an entire week of procrastination, I’m finally posting the next installment in this “decluttering” series, and I’m going to hop right to it!

In my last post, I shared some principles that are motivating me to simplify our home and our lives…

Today, I want to share with you some practical tips that are helping me accomplish my decluttering goals, but I have to be honest first: I’m just now getting there. For instance, this is our living room…

It has been pared down and simplified to bare bones and is a DREAM to keep clean. In five minutes, I can completely tidy the room up, and that includes sweeping.

This, on the other hand, was the hallway outside of our kids’ nursery, taken after I removed every toy, blanket and extra article of clothing that was littering their floor and piled it up for sifting and sorting…

Night…mare. But I received a shipment of pretty storage containers shortly thereafter, and this room is being completely defeated. I promise to finish it, and I promise to share my progress here!

I share that to assure you that I am learning these things right alongside you, and that I am most certainly not an expert. However, I am determined to grow, I am determined to develop a better attitude of hospitality and servitude in my home, and I am passionate about encouraging you in your journey, as well.

And so here are my personal tips for getting rid of the excess that already resides in your home:

1. Make sure you are sufficiently motivated.

This might seem redundant in light of my last post, but it’s foundational: the most important tools for defeating bad habits and giving up worldly excess are godly motivation and biblical principles. Until I have an eternal purpose for doing things, I have trouble really caring much or persevering.

2. Read housekeeping blogs and articles and do what they say.

Most of the things I’m doing in my home were not my original material and have most likely been gleaned from others. Some books and blogs that have helped me along the way:

Simple Country Wisdom: 501 Old-fashioned Ideas to Simplify Your Life. I love this book, not only for its charm, but for the common sense that is found within its pages. Click on the picture to find it at Amazon:

Living Well Spending Less: I have only just discovered this blog, but I am already a huge fan and am finding guidance and encouragement for my clutter-conquering journey, as well as a good dose of transparency.
The Time-Warp Wife: Another blog I have only recently discovered, I LOVE the faith-based principles that serve as its foundation, as well as all the handy (and cute!) printables and charts. I can’t wait to read and learn more!
The Fly Lady: I came across this blog from my internet friend, Leslie. It is chock-full of tips and help, not only for decluttering, but for cleaning and developing good homemaking habits.

You would do well to learn from these ladies, each of them far more experienced than I am when it comes to housekeeping and decluttering. They will cover all the important steps for you, and now I’ll just share a few things I have personally picked up along the way…

3. Make lists.

Before you start, make itemized lists of what you really need and intend to keep, and be determined to get rid of what is not on the list. With my list in hand, I knew going into my kids closet exactly how many sets of playclothes and pajamas I intended to keep, how many toys they would be allowed to keep, how many pairs of shoes they needed for church and play…

Preparing beforehand when you are not actually looking at your stuff helps you to be objective.

4. Try to find time to declutter alone.

It is nigh until impossible to sift through excess when you have little hands and voices nearby, and I have found that this kind of work is best done when my children are out of the house. Don’t have any baby-sitters available? Do a work swap with one of your friends. She’ll keep your kids one day so you can work, and then you can return the favor.

5. If you don’t have adequate time to completely finish a phase of sorting, don’t even start.

I can’t tell you how many times I have randomly started going through a drawer or a toy box, organized everything into piles…and then it’s time to start supper. Or the kids wake up from their naps. Or I just run out of steam. When I return the next day to finish the job, it has been scattered to high heaven, and all of my work is left undone. Thus, I have learned to schedule my decluttering, and I no longer start jobs I know I can’t finish.

6. Enlist a helper.

Two are better than one, and while I personally find more success when I declutter alone, some of you might need a buddy. For instance, my Mom has a lot of trouble getting rid of things because, once she holds an item in her hands, she immediately wants to keep it. Now that she has enlisted me as her sifting buddy, though, I hold her clothes up for her from across the room, and she can objectively decide if it is something she needs to keep or not. In other words, do whatever it takes to conquer your excess…even if it looks a little like an intervention.

7. The cardinal rule: if you don’t love it or use it, get rid of it.

There are, of course, exceptions to this rule, but for the most part, this is the best way to determine what you should keep and what you shouldn’t. Stop holding on to the things that don’t make your heart go pitter-patter. (Important side note: this rule ONLY applies to things, not people…). My husband and I just narrowed down our movie library to the truly defining and timeless ones, transforming our entertainment center into a treasure trove of films rather than a place where we store all the cheap movies we’ve bought over the years. It’s crazy what a difference these sorts of simple changes can make in your home, bringing meaning and fluidity into what was just random and pointless and hoard-ish before.

8. Make designated piles.

Sometimes it can be so overwhelming when you are staring at a mountain of stuff and you don’t know what to do with it; narrowing your items down to “keep” or “don’t keep” can be impossible. So create specific piles (or bags…or empty diaper boxes…), and be as creative with them as you want to be. Here are some I frequently employ:

Keepsakes – some things just need to be kept, and that’s okay. Put them in a safe box and store them forever in your attic and let your kids deal with them after you die.
Family, Friends or Church Nursery – I often remove toys and play-clothes from our house and take them to my Mom’s where all the grandkids can enjoy them…and oftentimes, our kids are much happier giving up their toys when they know they’ll be going to someone they love. This is also true of the church nursery, a perfect home for your excess (but not junky!) toys, books, outgrown diapers, and play clothes, for those times when kids at church have ‘accidents’. I have a friend who used to take her son’s stained or outgrown playclothes to the local daycare for that same reason, and I thought that was such a good idea!
Purgatory – I have learned the hard way that my children either completely forget about crafts they made or junky toys they’ve acquired…or they ask for them out of the blue and I discover that they loved that item more than anything ever in the entire world and now I’m the bad guy who threw it heartlessly away. Thus, rather than trashing those types of items immediately, I have a special box that I call “purgatory” where they can secretly hang out for a couple of months until I know for sure it is safe to send them out the back door. This box has served me VERY well.
TRASH! (My favorite). So easy. So quick.
Garage sale or Goodwill. I don’t keep a separate pile for Goodwill, because if is is not quality enough to sell, it is not quality enough to donate. If you wouldn’t sell it, trash it immediately. Goodwill (or anyone else) doesn’t need our t-shirts with the armpit stains. Then, whatever I don’t sell at our garage sales goes immediately (like, that day) to Goodwill or to someone else who could benefit from it. Just don’t under any circumstance bring that stuff back into your house!!!
Consignment. I have a special section of my garage sales dedicated to consignment quality clothes, with firm and appropriate prices. It is easier to give up quality clothes that I don’t wear when I know I might be properly compensated for them. Or you could make it even easier and actually take them to a consignment store! (I just like cutting out the middleman…)

Your piles might look completely different than mine, but…you get the point. Make lots of piles.

9. Declutter often.

Sad news. This kind of work doesn’t last as long as you think it will. You have to stay on top of it, and expect decluttering to be at least a monthly, if not a weekly, chore. Yay…

10. Put kids toys up. The higher the better.

Best thing I’ve ever done. Organize most of your kids toys into separate bins (with the exceptions of their stuffed animals and such), put them somewhere out of reach, and hold the key to what gets played with, when. The benefit of this is at least threefold: a) Their room stays clean, except for daily maintenance like making beds and putting away clothes, b) they actually play with the toys you get down for them rather than getting everything out at one time and wandering around aimlessly in the wreckage (I know you know what I’m talking about!), and c) more often than not, they wind up using their imaginations instead of relying on toys for entertainment. And guess what? You don’t have to clean up after imaginations! Just when I was looking for the courage to take this step, I came across this blog post: Why I Took My Kids Toys Away (and why they won’t get them back). And I have to concur with everything the author says: this really works, and our entire family has profited from it.

Again, nothing new or revolutionary here, but if it any of the above tips help you in your decluttering process, I will be so pleased. And if you have any tips or ideas or blog posts to share with us, please do so in the comments section – we’d love to hear from you!

Coming up soon in the “My Sweet Home” series…”Junk Be Gone: When You Live with a Hoarder”

Spring, Spring, Spring!

Posted on May 14, 2013 by mrsgore81

While you all are waiting for me to FINALLY finish my series on decluttering (I promise, it’s coming soon!), I wanted to take a minute and share our Spring photos from Benjamin Grey Photography. These pictures are dear to me, already, and I’m so grateful to have such talented and generous photographers in my life, always nearby to help document my children’s growth and innocence. (I’m thinking of you, Amy, Ben, and Leslie!).

It should also be noted that Baby Betsie threw up a couple of hours after this photo shoot, which immediately explained her uncooperative behavior and her notable absence from most of these photos.

Oh! And it should ALSO be noted that my nieces were having their pictures taken that day, too, hence the cousin photo at the end of this post.

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