Monday, May 6, 2013

mess & worry.

Hi! My name is Emily. My husband, Zac, and I started We are so excited to visit A Little Artsy today! We have been married for almost 10 years and have 3 crazy little girls and a new puppy. We both love design and art - he is a designer and I am a stay at home mom and photographer. I write a little and photograph a lot.


 It's my "thing" to worry. It always has been. Since I was little, I worried about the silliest stuff. I was kind of one of those kids that was 8 going on 40. So when it comes to letting our girls be outside and be messy, I have to be honest and say that it's not something that comes naturally to me. Silly...I told you. I was always a very tidy kid. Zac is the opposite. He grew up outside and in the dirt. He is an artist and likes for the girls to be able to try things and get messy. And while that's not naturally my thing, he's convinced me and I'm doing my best to go with it. I may not always be the one that thinks of things, randomly, like opening a can of house paint and letting the girls have the freedom to paint a bird house with whatever brushes we can find, but I'm doing my best to be a good cheerleader when it happens. We are going to raise some country kids.


I would have talked less and listened more. I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded. I would have eaten the popcorn in the "good" living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.


I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather rambling about his youth. I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.


I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage. I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.


I would have cried and laughed less while watching television, and more while watching life. I would have gone to bed when I was sick, instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.


I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime. Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment, realizing that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle. When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."
There would have been more "I love you's" and more "I'm sorry's"
. . . but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute . . .
look at it and really see it . . . and never give it back.