mcdisney family vaca

About this time last year, we [the McMahone side of our extended family] decided we were going to do it. We were finally going to plan our once-every-two-decades Disney vacation. We started in January and planned and researched and made reservations and shopped and packed and made reference guides and printed maps and obsessed over the gazillion WDW blogs out there with more tips than you could read in a very long lifetime. Which is probably why my sister and I ran with excited flailing towards one another right in front of Bay Lake Tower.

I hadn't been since I was seven years old [and probably won't go again for another 20 years so that my legs can be fully recovered], and I didn't really know what to expect. I'd say I embraced it: Cinderella's castle gave me chills, and I felt no shame talking to animatronic characters. And expected a response. I also may have teared up a little during Enchanted Tales with Belle. I mean...it's Belle.  

Even though three of us ended up at the Disney ready clinic throughout the week [praise Jesus for steroid shots and z-packs], we'll remember the amazing fireworks and parades, Audrey completely warming up to characters [it was a Christmas miracle], our bonding moment with the Seven Dwarfs, and a week's worth of memorable family dinners in a 50's kitchen, a Norwegian castle, an African marketplace, a beautiful greenhouse, a Victorian hotel, and the main table in the ballroom at the Beast's castle [right next to the Christmas tree]. 

With all that research, we've got a wealth of now useless tips to share [in .pdf form], but the one I'd say is the most important is to have ridiculously adorable matching t-shirts. We are not a matching t-shirt family. We don't participate. But at Disney, the happiest place on earth, you are practically worshipped for a good family tee. We originally planned to wear them on a shorter day with less photo ops and ended up washing and wearing them two more times. The McDisneys were a hit. 

The one thing that I didn't realize I would love so much is how Disney World is a creative-minded person's dream. There is nothing not designed with purpose: trashcans, drinking straws, light posts, everything. Walt was a dreamer. And those that continue his legacy are too. They encourage details and quality and creativity. Sometimes my head wanted to explode. 

It was a wonderful, hilarious, exhausting, memorable trip. Maybe we'll do it again in another fifteen years. Boudin said we're never leaving for that long again. 

wannabe florist

I have a degree in Sociology. The deeply useful, guaranteed job security kind of Sociology. Also, the imaginary kind.

Through a couple of connections, I got a much-wanted internship in Governor Jindal's office where I felt like I worked hard to stand out so that I would be given a full time position once I graduated. Just like I thought I had done all through high school and college and camp life.

It's all about me here, clearly.

And when a move to South Carolina took away my [at least] four more years of "job security," I felt part "Hello, brave new [creative] world!" and part "I'll be on my couch looking for government desk jobs." That transitioned to me crying on that same couch after no responses to both government job inquiries and asking local florists if I could clean their buckets and sweep their floors. That was May through January.

And on my birthday [January 31st - mark your calendars], I, somewhat randomly, saw a post by the wonderful Sarah looking for an intern. And by the next Wednesday [after a good six days of barely eating because of nerves] I was a part of the wonderful Fern Studio.

Since then, Sarah has taught me things that my hilariously classic floral classes didn't. She's given me opportunities that I never would have imagined. She's trusted and encouraged me into a place where I am suddenly entrusted with my own events at times. My dream job. I can hardly believe it!

It was God's perfect timing and gracious will, an unbelievably generous mentor/boss lady, a patient and uplifting husband, a dad who has told me my entire life that I needed to be in a creative career [which I never believed], and a cheerleader of a mother.

I did nothing. I cried and whined some. I talked about how most goals in life had come easy. And then I remembered [and continue to remember] that my merits and my abilities and my talents are not my own. They were given to me for a purpose. And on my own they are useless. I was given this blessing of a job, and I am so undeserving.

A little day in the life: 

After being picked up from the cargo hanger, before processing each stem. 

The beginning of the design process. 

The inevitable disaster. 

The final product. 

I love knowing a bride will be holding this as she walks toward her groom!  

Packing up [for a small wedding]. 

Not pictured: lots of hauling buckets, dirty fingernails, sore feet, plenty of emails and phone calls, and beautiful venues and wedding parties. It's a dream! 

summer 2013

Since I have been an uninspired blog-keeper this summer, a general update.

This summer has been one of transition. To a new house. To a more-official floral design position. To parenting a new pup. To much-needed involvement. To a hint of normalcy.

This normalcy looks like full calendars - a personal [possibly unhealthy] love of mine. So full that is calls for mini family meetings and plenty of time spent plugging in reminders and appointments and events into the calendar. I know that this is a very normal thing in the life of the average American [and beyond]. But for the last twelve months, our weeks have been the bare minimum. When you are a new member of a church or a business or a community, involvement is limited. Read: people-time is limited. This summer I am beyond thankful for the Lord providing us with busy days filled with events that need florals, church ministry responsibilities, dinner with new friends, family that needs celebrating.

This time last year, I was going to the grocery store because it was my only source of human interaction while D was at work. I know now that that was a season with purpose. But these days I wouldn't be surprised if I saw someone I knew in the Piggly Wiggly or Publix or (dreaded) WalMart. A wonderful, welcomed change even if I'm in need of a good hair-washing.

Summer 2013 began with our move to the new house. Things are shaping up, and there may possibly be some pictures soon since I'm learning to rangle the shedding dog and mulching area rug with this and this.

Less than a week later, we headed south for Anna's [who is absolutely "the apple of our eye"] first birthday party. It was all hands on deck for decorations and favors and food. At one point, D was slicing apples and cutting tiny little hearts out of their centers for apple and peanut butter sandwiches. We're rocking his all-boy-family world one birthday party at a time.

June, and then again in August, was peak wedding season bringing plenty of design and learning time. I did my first solo wedding and had the opportunity to assist Sarah with several more beautiful events. We ended the summer with bang: a two-wedding weekend with five venues in two days. I can honestly say that I've never been more exhausted in my entire life. Granted I've never run a marathon or given birth or, you know, climbed Mt. Everest. But I was worn slap out, y'all. And thanks to a poorly-chosen maxi dress, I was shuffling my chaffed self in on my extremely sore feet. Here's to adrenaline and pure creative satisfaction for carrying us through.

A trip to Ruston brought wonderful time with family, a bittersweet cleaning-out of Mamaw Mc's house, fresh Ruston peaches, and a tearful meeting of my best friend's baby boy. The pace at which our lives are moving is overwhelming at times.

We lost D's grandmother midsummer. It was the most sudden of any of our grandparents. And it's still hard to think that she won't be there when we visit this weekend. We had, as always, a lot of sweet family time through that heartache.

August began with a trip to Florida to spend some time with my dearest Ashley before her big move to the Middle East. It was perfectly timed, perfectly planned by a God who cares about details and emotions and friendships. We spent some time on the sand, around the table, at the outlet malls, and [most importantly] in our pajamas. We talked about memories and what life will be like after the move, what is most saddening and most exciting. An unexpected but completely perfect project was taking Ash's pictures and laying out her prayer magnet. Isn't she a beauty? We completely failed in our "no tears, just say 'see you later'" plan. So we cried and hugged and cried some more. And since then, we're thankful for international texting apps and email and prayer.

To wrap up a summer full of busy weekends was Audrey's SIXTH birthday. She's SIX. Impossible. We had a tea party with enough flowers for a small wedding ceremony. That evening, the entire fam went to the birthday girl's restaurant of choice - Chick-fil-A - where it's not difficult to get a table for thirteen on Saturday nights.

Today we are headed south for the wedding of one of D's groomsmen. This weekend will usher in [in my mind] an official beginning to fall bringing with it pumpkin-flavored purchases and LSU football. Here's to looking forward to sweaters and mums and Christmas trees and filled calendars.

meet boudin

Last Sunday, our church had a special Celebration of Freedom service that left us done with our morning by 10:30 which gave us a perfect opportunity to go replace D's soon-to-be-falling-apart khaki shorts. While out shopping, we drove by Pawmetto Lifeline, realized that it was an animal shelter, and held on while D did a doughnut in a nearby parking lot.

About 45 minutes later, we left with Miss Boudin.

You see, we've been wishing for a dog. We're dog people. We spent many hours over the first couple years of marriage trying to agree on what kind of dog we would want to have. We were hoping to build a fence as soon as possible before we got a dog. That was until we fell in love with our girl Bou.

At the shelter,  they take you through the aisles of kennels and then allow you to "meet with" certain dogs. First, this is heart breaking. Can I take all of them home? After I remembered that I couldn't, I knew I wanted to see the pretty red pup with the curly ears. Especially since I gasped the first time I laid eyes on her.

They put us in a little room. It's like we were waiting for an interview. Please like me. Please please like me. They brought Boudin and all of her fifty pounds of spunk in. She put her butt in my lap and nuzzled us and nearly chewed through her leash. What seemed like thirty seconds later, we were writing a check and subsequently spending our life savings at Pet Smart like overly concerned parents.

A week later, we've started a habit of obnoxiously referring to one another as mommy and daddy. We've discovered that she's a champion sleeper with a preference for extra soft surfaces. She's wonderfully low-maintenance, a great traveler, and mighty smart. I love the way she paws at you when she wants a little more love, and I'm kind of obsessed with her crimped Barbie ears.

Bringing Boudin home. 

Crashing our nightly prayer time. 

Excuse the finger. I have little control of my limbs while running. 

Boudin take the wheeeeeel.

Snoring like a champ. 

true life: i'm living in house denial

Repeat after me: what boxes?

Or bags or piles or suitcases busting at the seams, for that matter.

It has officially been 26 days since we spent the first night in our wonderful new home. And because of Jesus' grace and four wonderful parents, the only things we have to show for it is an organized kitchen, curtains, and an installed washer and dryer set. I did manage to put our duvet inside our duvet cover. That was day 25.

Since we moved in, we've been to Alabama for my precious Anna's first birthday party and dove into wedding season with two flowering weeks in a row. That is not a complaint. Just how I remind myself that it's excusable that our life is still in boxes.

I mean...what boxes?

Our hilariously long project list looked like it could be accomplished in a couple of weekends. Now I'm shooting for 2015ish. A full day to unpack the entire upstairs? Try just our closet. A few hours to build and paint a dining room table? Try 48. So instead of living in the house that has been picture-perfect in my mind for the last eight months, I'm happily living in house denial.

We all know I have plans to post pictures of a deceivingly clean house after I get rid of all those cardboard things in a cube shape that hold all my junk. So for the sake of full disclosure and a little kumbaya-let's-all-live-together-in-hilariously-real-honesty, I give you the before:

Piles of fuzz balls: courtesy of our rug in that new rug molting stage // A very naked fireplace: desperately awaiting a mantel // That lovely gold chair: saying "pleeeeease recover me" // Leftover wedding flowers: perks from my dream job

New dining room table: built by D of which I am obnoxiously proud // Lowe's sacks: full of our life savings (home ownership is expensive, y'all) // Carbon monoxide detector: a very necessary purchase in the mind of my engineer // Piles of other crap: standard these days

A fairly normal looking kitchen (including lined cabinets): only possible because of my two life-saving moms // Orangey wood stools: needing paint - STAT // More piles: still standard

The beloved window seat: currently containing every piece of art/wall hanging I own. And a lamp. And some trash cans. // More of those cardboard things: what boxes?

Stairwell collage: my one and only project thus far // Empty frames: please ignore

Christmas tree stand: attic-bound // Boxes (what boxes?): previously organized but have since been the victims of rummaging // Iron: not used since we've moved

Three sad-looking rooms: waiting to be decorated // Piles of clean laundry: in need of folding (any volunteers?) // Boob light: the last one left after my builder-grade light mass wipe out

Curtains: in desperate need of a meeting with the steamer // Headboard: in desperate need of another  coat of paint // Dried wedding bouquet: the only thing that I'm crazy protective over while moving // The pile of bullet boxes and a gun cleaning kit (not pictured): no longer a surprising find on D's bedside table  

Suitcases: those are the "busting at the seams" ones // New light: looks much smaller in pictures // The heaviest TV there ever was: D's from college and in need of a piece of furniture to house it (since he won't let me put it by the side of the road) // Corner pile: yet another "maybe for a garage sale but just get it out of my freaking house" pile

Color coordinated clothes: this is what I did with the rest of day 25 // Tools: my mess that I didn't clean up after adding fabric drawer pulls // Shoe rack: the greatest Bed Bath and Beyond purchase ever

There she is in all her fuzz ball, dusty, pile-filled, mid-project beauty. Here's to hoping I'm not the only one. If you need me, I'll be unpacking something, somewhere, for the next year and a half.