One thing I'll never be accused of...

...is not including myself in our scrapbooks.  ;-)

I took a selfie and got my 2014 goals in the books.  Remember, if it's not

in the scrapbook it never happened!  So these 2014 goals have

now "officially" happened.  LOL

Webster's pages paper and flower, Elle's Studio journaling cards & wood. 

The teal background is cut using the Cricut Edge to Edge cartridge. 

 

 

Here's another one.  This is from the trip to Port A with some of my

girlfriends last November.  Webster's pages, all but the tag to the left

of the photo (Echo Park).  I used a little brown envelope, also Webster's, to

hide my journaling.  I had a lot to say but wanted it private. 

 

 

Here the journaling is peeking out of the envie.

 

Here is my journaling pulled out of the envie.  It's a trifold card; I just measured

how wide my envie was and then made my journaling into three columns

 in MS Word.  Then I printed it out, trimmed, adhered, and finally scored the

edges to make it trifold.  It's double-sided too; I have 5 "panels" of journaling. 

 

That is all for now.  Thanks for stopping by and leaving love!

 

Blessings,

Martha

One year later

On a more personal note (because scrapbook pages aren't as personal as this-- HA!)......

It's been a year since my kid and I moved back to my parents' house. 

It hasn't been the easiest year.  Nor the prettiest.  Nor the most fun.

It's been a year of embracing trials, like unemployment and having absolutely no funds for anything, when all you really want to do is go running down the street kicking and screaming like a 2-year-old at a candy store who wants it all. 

It's been a year of some loneliness, even while living amongst my nearest and dearest family members. 

It's been a year full of regrets and what if's and why did I do that and what was I thinking and why did I let him get away with that. 

For a long time I was just surviving but as I stop and contemplate where I've been and what I've done over the last year... I find that I am now thriving. 

THRIVING!

I'm moving on, not feeling lonely at all, getting exercise, eating right (better anyway!), working again, still pounding out a path towards my dream job & career, loving my son like never before, and.... big surprise... loving myself, too.  My hope is renewing..... and I absolutely *REFUSE* to live with regrets anymore.  I can't change the past.  I can only learn from each thing it is that I regret.  I will embrace my mistakes and learn from them!  Every single mistake makes me the woman I am today and I will embrace that fully and move on with the knowledge that I survived all the messes and hard times and ugliness and that means I'm strong.  God has seen me through it all and, though I had to rely on His strength most of the time, I made it through.  I am intact, stronger than ever, and smarter because of the mistakes I've made.

I appreciate the trials, appreciate God's work in molding me and planning a prosperous life for me, appreciate just how much He loves me that He has unending patience with me, coupled with heaping loads of mercy and grace and forgiveness. 

 

THRIVING.

 

I wonder what the next year will bring.  More trials, undoubtedly, but following His will, His rules (obedience is key!), and His ways, nothing but His peace will overtake my life.  It's a good path to be on, friends.  Is it a coincidence that I saw my friend Valerie's blog and was inspired to order the Elle's Studio Jan 2014 kit?  It's mostly little embellies and cards but there were two gems in there that I (coincidently) found this morning and promptly filled out.  (And, FYI, I don't believe in coincidences! ;-) )

 

Now I need to get a selfie so I can make a page to include these cards.  Next year I will once again take stock and find out how much I moved forward. 

So, here's to another year of major personal, spiritual, and professional growth.

Blessings and loads of love,
Martha

Musings

Today I was thinking about pictures, about taking pictures, scrapbooking pictures, organizing  pictures, making scrapbook pages, organizing scrapbooks, where all those scrapbooks will go one day.  I was thinking how Project Life simplifies things BUT the idea is to take a picture a day.  I don't have time to take a picture every.single.day; that within itself is a huge commitment.  I think most people that use PL do so because they don't have time for traditional scrapbooking, yet they have time to take a picture every single day and journal about it?

It doesn't make sense.

And then I got to thinking about all the albums I've made.  Who will want them when I'm gone?  Nick is 10 years old and has about 30 albums already (gasp).  I have about 20 family albums, and maybe about 6 albums that are all about me.  Those are all the 12x12 size; I won't even begin to count the mini albums I have of all of us, too. 

OK so Nick will likely want a lot of those when I'm gone.  My siblings might if I go before them.  But my sisters don't have kids, and my brothers' kids, well, I don't know that I would entrust my precious books to my nephews, and my nieces have cut all contact with this side of the family.  Soooo... what happens when Nick is gone?  Are all of my albums and precious scrapbook things going to get thrown away?  HORROR of all horrors!!! 

I was seriously worrying about this today, thinking that all of my hard work is for nothing.  Well, it *is* stress relief for me, I consider paper crafts as color therapy lol, BUT if it's just going to get thrown in the trash one day... should I continue taking a picture of EVERY birthday dinner?  Of every school event?  Of every single activity Nick decides to dabble in (i.e. baseball, piano, guitar, Hot Wheels, muscle cars in general, Lego, Minecraft, drawing, ad infinitum)?  Should I even bother to journal about the transitions I'm going through right now in my own life?  How sorry I am that I gave up my home for a complete loser?  How much I regret this thing and that thing and the other thing... all journaled onto a scrapbook page, most of the time accompanied by a photo?  Of course, I have happy memories and hopes too, but will ANY of it matter to anyone when I'm gone? 

A lot of this contemplation was brought on by the fact that I don't have a proper scrapbook space and about 1/4 of my scrapbook stuff resides in piles in my bedroom and to get one single page or project complete I spend more time digging than I do creating.  I was just thinking, what's the use.  Plus, I hate, absolutely HATE, having a mess.  I like things super organized and easily accessible.  I know that one day I will have proper scrapbook space again, but right here, right now, I don't and I absolutely hate it.  I hate how I got here, too. 

But then while organizing my things and searching for pictures that might inspire me away from negative thoughts, I found these pictures of me and the Nicksters in our apartment, where we lived for four years.  I had pre-made pages that fit the pictures perfectly (from an embellish it! kit) so I added them and called it good.  And then I sat and thought about what I wanted to write and I realized how many GREAT memories those pictures invoked, memories of my baby growing up, memories of the things we did together there, how we lived, the pets we had and loved, how I felt about living there, the company I kept, the mistakes I made during that period in my life that I wish I could take back.  I wish I had appreciated that tiny apartment more because I'd give just about anything right now to have it back. 

I mean, just look at those kitties and our puppy.  <3

In the end, the positive thoughts won out and I decided to keep on trekkin'.  The flood of good memories those pictures invoked makes it all worth it.  So I will keep on taking photos and keep on preserving that which I deem important, and have loads of fun in the process.  After all, if nobody wants what I create when I'm gone it won't really matter to me at all, will it?  :D

Any thoughts? 

El 16 de septiembre

Today is one of Mexico's two independence day celebrations, this one celebrating independence after three centuries under oppressive Spanish rule:

 "In the early hours of September 16, 1810, father Hidalgo, accompanied by several conspirators –Iganacio Allende, Doña Josefa Ortiz de Domínguez-   rang the bell of his little church, calling everyone to fight for liberty.  This was the beginning of the Independence War, which lasted 10 years, and this is the moment that every 16^th of September is re enacted in every plaza or zócalo of Mexico, and commemorated by Mexicans all over the world."  (from http://www.inside-mexico.com/featureindep.htm)

This is know as el Grito, or the cry of independence, where everyone yells,
-QUE VIVA MEXICO! (long live Mexico)
-VIVA!!! (live)

Why am I sharing this with you all today?  Well, you see, I was born in Mexico.  Though my parents & four older siblings lived in Chicago, my parents being "resident aliens", my Dad had an incredible boss who gave him two months off every summer (every.summer!) to go to Mexico on vacation.  Early in their marriage, my parents had built themselves a house just outside the city where they are from, and those two months every summer is when my parents and my older siblings spent their days, alongside the rest of our extended family.  I was born in August-- when they were down there on summer vacation.  On September 3, 1976, I was *almost* one month old, it was just before Labor Day, and we crossed back into the US because my siblings started school right after Labor Day back then.  I immediately became a resident as my parents and sisters were residents and my brothers, both born in the US, were citizens. 

By the age of 19 I didn't care much about renouncing my Mexican citizenship and becoming a US citizen, but the local news announced that the price to become a citizen (all the paperwork and such) was going to rise from $100 to $500.  Knowing that I might one day regret it, I decided to go ahead and take the plunge.  I did the appropriate paperwork, dotted all my i's and crossed all my t's, and then I waited.  And waited and waited.  It wasn't until I was 21 that I got notice that I had to take a citizenship test.  Being that my entire education had been in the US (I was 21 and already had my Bachelor's degree!), well, I aced that test.  Matter of fact, after the third question my interviewer said, "I think you know all of these answers and we just shouldn't bother.  Is that ok with you?"  Um, yeah!!!  A few months later, I was already 22 and I was sworn in as a citizen. 

But the funny thing is, at the swearing-in ceremony, which consisted of at least 300 people in a huge auditorium, so many others were celebrating.  They had cakes of the American flag, they were waving around little American flags, taking pictures, hugging each other and carrying on.  Some were even crying tears of joy.

I went by myself to the ceremony.  There was no pomp and circumstance.  It wasn't exciting to me.  I felt like I was betraying Mexico in some way (even though I retained dual citizenship).  When I got home, my parents patted me on the back and said it was the right thing to do but I didn't really *get* it, and the day went on like any other.  My parents had become citizens the year before me and nobody made a big deal about it then, either.

But then I grew up!  The US is where I live.  This is where I'm making my living.  This is where I have always lived and *WILL* always live.  This is now where my son was born and where he will continue to live and carry out his days, God willing.  And it is an AMAZING thing to be a citizen of the United States of America.  I am part of a privileged group of people, most of whom don't even KNOW they're privileged, much like I was before.... when I had my head stuck in the sand!  Those people at the swearing-in ceremony KNEW, they KNEW (!), what an honor and privilege it was to become a citizen of this great country.  Many of them must have struggled and endured many hardships to get to that ceremony, but since I had always lived in the US, well, it was just any old thing to me.  It wasn't special, it wasn't important, and I didn't really care either way.

How stupid I was.

And I don't even have a single picture of the event.  NOT ONE SINGLE PICTURE!

Now I understand, and though I can say "ARRIBA MEXICO!" and celebrate their independence, because my blood is Mexican, I know at the end of the day that my heart is American.  If it came down to it, I know which side of the line I stand on and who has my undying, unending, unbreakable loyalty.  The United States of America.  My home.  My son's home.  My immediate family's home.  This country which has given me so much opportunity for advancement- seriously, how did my Dad never attend school for a single day of his life yet I'm an M.D.?!  And my mother only made it through the 5th grade!- and now those same opportunities are there for my young child.  The possibilities are overwhelming.  You just have to set your mind to it and get 'er done!  :) 

Still, in that one little corner of my heart that bleeds green, white, and red, I say QUE VIVA MEXICO!  VIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!