Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Finley Faces: 8 months

Well, try as I might, she refuses to stop growing. So I'll just embrace it- and embrace her. Fin is 8 months now, and she's about 90% total joy, and 10% complete handful. She's so smiley and inquisitive, it's been hard to capture any of her mad faces in her monthly shots, so when she got annoyed during this round, I unapologetically kept snapping. (Tiny, angry T-Rex arms!!)

Fin- I love you when you're happy, I love you when you're sad. I love you when you're squirming out of my arms, I love you when you're yelling for more sweet potatoes. I love you when you pull your sister's jammies (though she might disagree) and I love you when you nuzzle into my neck. 

I've loved you every instant of these 8 months. Thanks for being ours. 


See past installments of face photoshoots here:
1. 2. 3. 4. 5, 6, 7.

Monday, February 24, 2014

Snip

File this under: things I should have done a long time ago...

I'm not a terribly sappy sentimental type of girl (unless you read anything in the archives from a few weeks/months after my kids are born. All sense goes out the window during that time, and I tend to blubber) so thinking about Piper's first haircut wasn't a big deal to me. I didn't intend to save a pile of her locks in a book (for the same reason I won't be keeping any of her baby teeth when the time comes: gross) and I didn't get weepy when I thought about snipping off her baby strands. But- I wasn't exactly in a hurry to go hacking away at her hair either. After all, it has just barely grown long enough to put in ponies, so even if it was getting a little scraggly, I was holding onto the length on principle. 
But eventually, even I had to admit that Piper's mop was becoming a bit of a situation...the words ragamuffin and mullet come to mind...it was probably time for a trim. 

I know nothing about cutting hair, but I also knew that with the current state of her mane, I couldn't exactly make it worse, so I elected to tackle the task myself. I told Piper we were going to play beauty shop, and bribed her with the promise of wearing a fancy cape. I probably should have mentioned "m & o's" (her adorably wrong name for the candy...please no one ever correct her)  but she was in a cooperative mood, so I lucked out. She even let me take some before shots:



I had to work swiftly, so I wrapped her in a towel, sprayed her down, combed it out, and started snipping. I used my giant craft scissors, which is probably some kind of beautician sin, but they are the sharpest ones I have, so I went with it. 




I probably only got about three cuts in before she declared she was "all done!! stop stop stop!!" (and clearly the cape was long gone) but that's all I needed. The rat tail was gone. It's probably not 100% straight, but fortunately two year olds pretty much never stand still, so no one will be the wiser. 

After:

To most people it probably doesn't look any different, but she's slightly less shaggy, and we can still coax it into ponies, so that's a win in my book. It unfortunately seems like she got my hair genes- nice and blonde, but impossibly thin- so we just work with what we got.  As long as we can get her trademark bow in there, I'm a happy mama. (though I did compromise on which bow in this case...the girl has strong opinions, and this day she insisted upon the flower. Guess I'll stick to being her hair stylist and leave the wardrobe- and accessory- selection to the tiny expert.)

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Little Pip-speaks: Volume 5

The Certified Car ride Chatterbox edition.



Pip-speak #1
Hearing me on the phone: What you callin' mom? You callin' my dad?

Pip-speak #2
Making her road trip "nest": comfy now. I got my hands in therrrrrre.... And I nice and waaaaaaarm....

Pip-speak #3
Spotting a dinosaur sculpture: Oh, that's a dinosaur. I see it out my window. Take a picture! I don't have a dinosaur. We'll have to get one. At the store. His name cera-top? I 'member! Dinosaur taking a rest? No. He just hangin' out.

Pip-speak #4
After being "so brabe!" looking at (not touching!) my dad's dog, she couldn't stop talking about it. An overtired Fin was crying on the way home and Piper comforted her:
It's ok fin. The doggie not here. 

Pip-speak #5
I need brush my hair. I a ragamuffin!

Monday, February 17, 2014

The "After, After" Tour

This summer will mark six years since we moved into our house. Our first house!
We've done a ton of work on the place since then, and blogged a lot of our updates, but there is a ton that has gone undocumented. I have no shortage of pictures (believe me…no shortage of pictures) but I haven't kept up with posting all of the changes we've made or projects we've tackled. I have a list in my head of things I'd love to share, but that list keeps getting longer and longer, while my free time (and energy, and motivation to do anything besides plop on the couch eating brownies and watching The Bachelor) seems to be shrinking. 

The other day I stumbled upon an old video from the day we closed on our home, and got such a kick out of seeing the day we "came home" for the first time. Then I ventured further down the rabbit hole of my blog archives, and I was reminded we did a follow up video right after we moved in. In case you weren't a loyal follower a half decade ago (or your memory is as fuzzy as mine) here we are, as two young whippersnappers in love- with each other, and our new place: 
(click each video to expand to full screen) 

       


It was so fun to see our house in its early days. I honestly forgot ho much it's changed. And as much as I'd love to have a series of catch-up posts showing off the results of all of our blood sweat and tears over the years, I'm realistic in realizing the odds of that happening aren't great. Our kitchen deserves a series all it's own, (yes, I'm biased, but we- mostly Dustin- worked our fingers to the bones, and I sure do love how it turned out!) and there are about a dozen smaller projects I think would be fun to share. But again- real life, real talk: you and I both know that when given the choice between digging through photo archives to format some how-to html, and eating ice cream while binging on online episode of Real Housewives…well…I'm going to pick the latter.

But I was inspired by those original posts, so I thought it would be fun to do another walk through of our space, cramming six years of missed-opportunity blog posts into one video show and tell. But let me just warn you- yes, we've come a long way from the technology of 2008, but if you're expecting a professional level production you'll be disappointed. What I'm offering up is 12, iPhone quality, sometimes poorly lit, minutes of me rambling, with nary a title slide or transition to be found. Dustin's thumb even makes a cameo or two. But…you know we like to keep it real around here. (Better done than perfect, or something like that.) If this were a design blog I would have shipped the kids off somewhere, arranged everything just so, and dazzled you with my decor decisions. But again...we like to keep it real. So instead- we shot this on a Saturday morning (to get the best light) after the cleaning lady's monthly visit (to not completely gross you out). You'll see piles of our laundry, toys underfoot, and hear me say "work in progress" about 17 times. We filmed between naps (as to not wake anyone up with my yammering) so the rugrats are running around oblivious to mommy and daddy's HGTV dreams. (We do leave Fin "unattended" for a good 4 minutes, but I assure you she was safely playing, and we could hear her happily jabbering the whole time. You can hang up on Child Protective Services now). 

So here's the (relatively) quick spin around our beloved abode in its current state. We have no shortage of ideas to try, projects to finish, or updates to embark on, but we've come a long way baby, and we're blessed to call this place home. Check it out if you're interested in how we really live- or if you just want a couple of cute video-bombs from a couple of Bowden Babies. (and if you spot anything that you're dying for details on, ask away in the comments!)


HouseTour14 from Courtney Bowden on Vimeo.

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P.S. All of this house nostalgia might not have been enough to motivate me to catch up on the DIY backlog, but it did at least inspire me to pull together a digest of our past house posts. Check out the sidebar for a link to our new Our Home page.

Friday, February 14, 2014

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Show Your Real: Lindsey T.

Time for another Show Your Real post...from another Lindsey! One of the things I love so much about this series, is connecting with people who believe in this idea of transparency and community...and sometimes believing in it even more than I do! Lindsey is a constant example of what it looks like to live thoughtfully. She doesn't take decisions lightly, partly because she feels so deeply. I'm so thankful to count her as a friend. 
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I was honored when Courtney asked me to do Show Your Real. It’s always been a concept that has resounded with me. I think you can’t really be known or loved without showing your real. The more I try to hide my real, it seems, the more bad stuff happens in me - it seems like I divide myself between the front I hold up and the actual me. Not showing your real is just a form of dishonesty to me. I truly believe that others can only see Christ in me, when they see my real -- how can they see Christ’s work, when I just try to show I’m perfect already, without being in need of Him? The irony of this post is that it has taken me forever to write it because I am (hypocritically) worried about what others will think of it, instead of simply showing my real.
 
 

My husband Mike and me in Japan this summer. What the photo doesn't show is how sick 
we were of smelling stinky pickled sea creatures and how we longed to get back and eat 
normal, American food (I know how annoyingly uncultured that makes me sound - but that's real). 


During the course of the past 4 years, God has freed me from a host of fears, stereotypes and small-thinking and I now have a pit bull, 2 tattoos (which feels weird even typing), a motorcycle license and a Vespa that I enjoy riding (when it’s not broken down). I never pictured that for me - I was straight-laced, never drank, and was honestly, pretty judgy of the above life-choices. I used to think that loving people, maybe even just loving a few people who are easy to love, was just a part of following Christ and now I know that it is all life should be about, next to loving Him. I feel like I can’t show my real, without sharing how my real is so different now than it was just a few years ago, because of Christ’s freeing work me.


This is me faking a smile/trying not to cry/crushing Mike's hand/scared to tears getting
 my tattoo done - don't let anyone lie to you - it hurts like CRAZY to get your foot tattooed.
 And if you wake up the next morning and cry about what other people are going to think - 
that's a good thing - it will make you change what you think of others.

In the past 3 years, my real has been totally different than I ever expected it to be.
  • 3 yrs ago - I was shamefully and painfully fired from a secure job I didn’t particularly enjoy, but that I believed was supposed to be my career track.
  • 2 yrs ago - I was being led out of the pain of the ego blow of being fired and had gained hope. I decided to go to grad school for my MBA because I found I was passionate about business and potentially having my own someday.
  • 1 yr ago - Mike and I decided we were moving to Raleigh after I graduate school.
  • Currently - I graduated last month and I am interning at an advisory services company, which I received through God’s awesome provision. Mike and I are planning on moving in about 2 months and seriously considering opening a cafe in Raleigh when we get there.


After I’ve let go of significant fear (fear about debt for grad school, fear about moving to a new place, fear about learning to ride a motorcycle, fear about what others think of me since I have a tattoo - and let’s be real - I still struggle with these), my eyes have been open to all the possibilities God has. Life can be so much bigger than I ever thought. My existence can actually change huge, significant things - like the life of a co-worker or the lives of thousands of impoverished people around the world).  Focusing on the small and petty led my life to be so small and petty - but focusing on God and the potential He has for my life has led me to see so much potential.
Our very sweet, paradoxically-tough-yet-constantly-seeking-a-comfortable-spot Pitty

I feel like now is a perfect time for a dose of reality. Seriously, it’s not like I’m free from fear and now my co-workers are all encouraged by me and I’m flying across the globe to free people from the modern-day slave trade -- though I hope both of those are true someday. I’ve always enjoyed reading about people’s “typical day”, because I like seeing how different and similar we are - and that no one wakes up and has tiny birds and mice help them get ready in the morning - even though they might look like it. Unlike the majority of people, I have not had a “typical day” most of the past few years (I’ve had 5 jobs in the past years - most were part-time). However, since obtaining a steady internship - my typical day looks like this:


  • 6:30 - 7:00am - Wake up - dependent on whether I showered the night before
  • 7:00 - 7:45am - Read Bible & get ready while Mike takes care of Macie (our pit bull)
  • 7:45 - 7:55am - Mike drives me to work while I eat breakfast, we pray and talk, he drops me off and goes to work
  • 7:55am - 12pm - Work like a cog in a machine and become excited if someone actually has a real-life conversation with me
  • 12 - 1pm - Lunch, at my desk, while I write some personal emails, work on personal projects, read news, etc.
  • 1 - 5pm - Work again and usually scramble to try not to take work home
  • 5 - 5:30pm - Mike gets off work, picks me up at work and we go home
  • 5:30 - 7pm - Change out of work clothes, Mike and/or I make dinner, take care of Macie
  • 7pm - 9pm - Spend time with family or friends, run errands, work on the house, pick out clothes and prep lunch for work tomorrow
  • 9pm - 10:30pm - Talk, watch TV or read with Mike, sleep


I respect your time (after all, time is more valuable than money, so you better be sure whatever you spend your time doing is worth it - if I learned nothing else in business school, it’s that) and so I’m going to wrap this up. A while ago, a pastor at our church said “We should eat change for breakfast” - because we should be constantly changing and improving. It’s a concept I whole-heartedly agree with (after all, we wanted a pit bull to change stereotypes about them, we wanted our fixer-upper house to improve it), but is also a concept that is completely hard and terrifying. A constantly changing life is one of adventure and spontaneity and never knowing what the next day holds, but it is also a life of risk and uncomfortableness and danger.  That’s why the change has to be what God has, the risk has to be worth something, I will find change and adventure emptying if I seek it for fulfillment in and of itself.

Me. Through the lens of friend and photographer Anthony Barlich.

In moving soon, without having jobs or a house in Raleigh, it’s so hard for me to trust God in this place - when I have to step off of solid ground and just wait for my feet to hit something. It feels exactly like a trust fall.  The best part is that it holds all the hope of something new. There is no hope without change - and so I want to eat change with a heaping mound of hope every morning. Seriously, as much as change can be hard to chew through, I’ll take it if I get hope. Like how I used to eat steak as a child if that meant I got dessert.

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Show Your Real is a series of guest posts centered around the concept of authenticity. The goal is to encourage each other to expose the reality of our lives- good and bad- and to foster a sense of community that goes beyond the often suface-cy interactions of social media. We invite all of you to participate! Please comment, link, and hashtag to spread the showyourreal love. If you would like to contribute a guest post in this series, please email me! 

Thursday, February 6, 2014

I'm awesome.

"Comparison is the thief of joy."
I've read it, pinned it, repeated it, and pinned it, but somehow it still just doesn't sink in. I can't stop the urge to compare; seeing the lives of others and lamenting how much blank-ier they are than me: Prettier. Craftier. Funnier. Organiz-ier.  (Wordsmithier?!)

It's so so easy to compare. And so so easy to feel like you're coming up short. I'm not against elevating others, or applauding true talent, but how did those ideals transform into a culture where it's not ok to elevate ourselves once in a while? Somewhere along the line it became a crime to show a little pride. (Unless your a Kardashian. Or a rapper. Or a rapper married to a Kardashian.)

Have you tried to brag about yourself recently? It's kind of hard. Even accepting a comment graciously can be tough sometimes. It's difficult to spout your accomplishments without sounding like a self-absorbed jerk. I'm not advocating a life of shameless self-promotion, or oblivious bragging (see: Kardashian) But having a healthy self image, with the guts to say it out loud? I believe that could be a very good thing. 

For me though, it can be a struggle to simply say I'm good at something, without feeling like I have to be the best at it. It's like the minute I claim a talent, imaginary critics are going to crawl out of the woodwork shouting "Imposter! Wanna-be! I've seen better!" That imaginary fear makes me feel like I can't truly be "good" at something without an outside endorsement to prove my worth. And so often for me- that validation is tied to accomplishments, money, or accolades. I don't want to be a money-grubbing, "likes"-counting, social-climbing, striver, but sometimes it's hard to escape the way our society tends to set up rewards and strata. Our value is based on how we stack up against others. Our worth is measured against each other. 

I'm not a real blogger until I get sponsored. 
I might be crafty, but I don't have an etsy shop. 
Sure, I'm good with the computer but I'm no graphic designer. 

And even if we can get past the titles and outside endorsements, it's still so easy to make it a comparison:

Eh, I'm ok at that, but lots of people are better. 
I'm good at that I guess, but it's not really a big deal.


Well I'm sick of that. 

I want to be brave, stand tall, and shout it out loud- or at least type it out loud: I'm good. A something. At somethings. Lots of things. Maybe not the best. Definitely not perfect. But it doesn't matter. I am still talented, interesting, and unique. Not in comparison to someone or something else. Just as a fact. 

So I present, the official, if incomplete, List of Things I'm Super Steller At:
  • Math
  • Snuggling 
  • Brainstorming
  • Singing harmony
  • Storytelling
  • Making babies smile
Whew. 


Do you know how many things I had to run through in my head to get a measly handful of things for my list? So, so many. For each thing I thought of, I automatically came up with a disqualification, or even worse- all I could think of were things I'm bad at! (It's crazy how many things I struggle at, that came to mind. Even when I'm trying to think positive the negative is so easy to see.)  I had no trouble thinking of ideas, but even when I allowed myself to admit I was good at one, when it came time to put it down, I had to suppress the urge to put a qualifier afterwards. It seemed too bold to just write a word, and leave it out there, without a justification, or clause. It takes guts to put it out there- to own an entire category, and say unequivocally- "Yes. I can do that. No if, ands, or butts. No waffling. No watering it down. That thing? I got it. Give it, I got it."

And even harder than that, was resisting the urge to deflect the attention with sarcasm. It's my style to joke, and I'm a master at a self-deprecating quip (can you claim to be a master at saying you're not a master? Is my circular reference tearing a hole in the blog continuum?) but that tends to be the easy way out of the uncomfortable act of tooting your own horn (an already uncomfortable phrase). I wanted to write "Eating the entire box of macaroni and cheese. By myself. Off of the big spoon." just to make sure everyone knew I didn't take myself too seriously. But I resisted that urge (kind of. But lets be real, you already knew I can't resist the blue box.). Sure it makes me relatable to share my faults and follies, but hopefully it's inspiring, not aggravating, to occasionally see me honestly profess my pride.


I'm awesome. But I didn't make this awesome graphic. 
Original image source unknown. Credit the awesome world of Pinterest.

So I have a couple things to hang on my hat on. A few categories that I will unabashedly say, "You need someone for that? I'm your girl!" 
But what about you? 
What's your thing? What awesome stuff is on your list? What makes you puff up your chest and say "Aw, yea-yah, boiiii" (or some equally confident "I'm the man" type saying)?

You may be tempted to ask for help landing on your list. And I'm sure there are no shortage of people who would be happy to spout off your glowing list of successes (after all- You da man!). But I'd encourage you to come up with your own list. Yes, it's lovely to have someone pump you up and take notice of your special qualities. But it's valuable to be able to look inside yourself, identify your skills and be brave enough to tout them on your own. 

So if you're thinking "yeah, but my thing isn't really my thing, and even if it was, everyone can do that, and even if they can't, it's probably because they wouldn't want to anyway....mope, mope, mopey-sauce" I would challenge you. I'd poke you in the chest (really high so it didn't get awkward) and say: 

Nuh-uh. That's a lie. A lie that takes away your sparkle. 

(Bachelor reference; another thing I'm pretty awesome at. Or "another thing at which I'm pretty awesome", if you're a grammar enthusiast). Sure, there are talents that are more common than others, but there is no one thing in the world that everyone is good at, and even if there were, that shouldn't discount the pride you feel if that super common thing happens to be right up your alley. 

So lay it on me. Tell the world. Claim your fame. Share what you're awesome at. Without the caveats, and self deprecating add ons. No disclaimers, or watering it down.
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What about you? Scoot over into the comments and boast: 
What's your thing? 
(If commenting isn't your strong suit, find me on your favorite online haunt: instagram | facebook | twitter | pinterest)

P.s.  Here's a note on feeling ordinary, and bit more about who I am....and who I'm not.

Monday, February 3, 2014

El Bache-LOR

A couple years ago, Dustin joined a Bachelor pool at work. That sounds wild, but let me clarify- he wasn't part of some Bradley Cooper, secret society of male debauchery. It was about THE Bachelor. The terrible "reality" show I force him to watch season after season. A few people talked at the beginning of the season, threw in $5 each, and submitted a bracket of predictions about the order in which that season's Chosen One would send home his harem- I mean- pool of potential wives. 

I, of course couldn't be left out of the fun, so I joined as well, and even after a terrible showing (not noteworthy enough to be actually last, but probably close) was hooked. When the next season rolled around and it didn't look like there was going to be an office league, we took matters into our own hands, and organized a competition...after all, the show must go on. Even (especially?) when that show is a petty small time gambling ring based on judging strangers on television. But let's face it- I was guaranteed to watch each season no matter what, at least this way I could rope some others into my addiction to trash TV and maybe even make a little cash. Because in the immortal words of my Grandfather, "Anything worth doing, is worth doing for money." (A sentiment that Bachelor contestants may have gotten confused with, "Anything worth doing, is worth doing half drunk and in front of millions waiting to mock you.")


And because we Bowdens know no other way, a quick $5 pick 'me has turned into quite the ordeal. We're now in our  3rd season managing this Tom (Dick and Harry) foolery, with no sign of slowing down. This season's bracket has over thirty participants- coworkers, family, friends of friends,...Turns out no one can resist the siren song of Made on TV love. Or the chance to win a quick $100 or so just by spotting levels of crazy in the eyes of 25 ladies' online headshots. 

But the real draw of this for us isn't in the money or the bragging rights (though Dustin is pretty impressive at the predictions- he's usually good for a second place finish) it's in the process. You see, this entire competition is a combo of social fun and extreme dorkiness- which is to say- right in our collective wheelhouse. Dustin gets to flex his Excel muscles, making an epic spreadsheet fill of dropdowns and automatic calculations. And I get to project my sarcastic ramblings to a group of like minded viewers with weekly recaps. Plus we host a viewing party each week to allow us to mock the entire thing in real time. I'm a firm believer that emotional train wrecks are meant to be enjoyed in the company of good friends.  


So I thought it would be fun to share this week's update here. I won't promise (or threaten?) I'll post these every week (no sense in bringing something heavy like "commitment" into the world of The Bachelor) but I thought it would be fun to share the snark occasionally. 

So are you watching? Do you love you some Juan Pabby? Do you hate Sharleen? Are you utterly positive that JP is going to end up marrying some backup correspondent from Entertainment Tonight versus one of these girls, rendering all of this drama moo? (It's like a cow's point. It's moo.) Good. We can be friends. (Best friends if you caught that Friends reference). 

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Grown Sexy. 


Can we just…marinate on that for a minute? (ew.)

ABC produced two hours of television last Sunday night, of which at least 52 minutes was discussion of this made up concept, between two "virgins" (I know, I know they're waiting until their wedding night to be together.  But where these two hooligans have been in the past was left intentionally fuzzy). Sean needed some help defining what exactly this (invented) term meant, and Catherine did her best to cobble together enough adjectives to stop his questioning. I, for one, wonder less what "Grown Sexy" refers to, and am more worried about the need for the "grown" qualification at all. What other type of Sexy is Catherine concerned might break out at her nuptials? Immature Sexy? Wee, Baby Sexy? #grosssexy

But as much as I make fun of this stuff, (which is so, so much), these Bachelor producers still know how to play my heart like a fiddle...somehow by the time they got to the vows, I had genuine, non-ironic tears in my eyes. And that's what keeps me coming back for more. The thought that somehow, 14 (or whatever) weeks of bikini-clad, wine-soaked, motive-questioning, vocabulary- stunted frivolity, will eventually miraculously transform into sweet, deep, real, elephant riding off into the Thai sunset love. Grown sexy love. Sponsored by Neil Lane. 

xoxo, 
Court

P.s. Oh yeah. There was also an episode this week with Juan Pablo. Though not the best, right? Maybe it turns out there is such a thing as too much fake rave dancing as a means of finding a wife? This show is constantly teaching me new things. 

But on the bright side, it did give us a whole 'nother host of Sexys to experience. Notably: 
Asian Foot Fish Sexy. 
Jealous (sososo jealous) Sexy. 
Faulty Role Model Logic Sexy. 
Seoul Spice Girls Sexy. 
I Just Threw Up in My Mouth but Will Still Totally Make Out With You Sexy. 
Awkward Opera Sexy. 
My Full Time Job is Dog Lover but My Part Time Job is Being a Sleepy-Eyed Catty B*, Sexy. 
I Don't Even Have a Kimono Sexy. 

And my personal favorite: 
Lying About Wanting Kids In Order To Get a Rose Sexy

Stay Classy, Bachelor Fans. See you in Vietnam.