Yay!  It’s my first political post ever!  Are you excited? – You’re excited, I can tell.  Everybody loves politics right?  The way it brings people together, reminds us all of our common humanity, and…oh wait, that’s Thanksgiving.  Scratch that.

Most people barely tolerate politics.  I can understand that and I don’t blame them.  ”I’ll take: ‘Things that piss people off and tear people apart for $200, Alex.’ ”  But in my family, debating politics was how we bonded.  Thankgiving, Christmas, the 4th of July, Sundays before church – they were were mostly an excuse to get together, eat a bunch of carbs, and argue politics and religion.  I remember one specific holiday at my sister’s house when my brother sat down at the kitchen table after all the dishes had been cleared and everyone’s naps taken, and said, rubbing his hands together, “Okay, what are we going to debate about?  Religion or politics?  I’ll play devil’s advocate.”  When mild-mannered Lukus first joined our family, he thought we all hated each other the way we constantly argued and debated and how we occasionally told each other, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”  Okay, I can see how he might have thought we hated each other, but it was our own particular dysfunction which we all understood and accepted.

I grew up in a Christian conservative home – unapologetically Republican.  I believed (though it was never specifically stated to me) that no true Christian could possibly be a Democrat.  Democrats were for the killing of unborn babies, they looked down on stay-at-home moms, they’d sue me if they saw me praying over my lunch at my public school, they hated the American flag and they wanted to control everyone through big government.  So I voted for Bush – both senior and W. and I was proud of it.

Then 9-11 happened.  W went to war with a country that had not attacked us, he secretly surveilled American citizens, and he started the Department of Homeland Security which seemed mostly concerned with placing restrictions on Americans (no taking pictures of your first subway ride in New York and other such nonsense).  Then he placed a federal mandate on public schools across the nation with No Child Left Behind, and by the end of his presidency, committed the height of big government arrogance – he used American tax dollars to bail out big corporations that had taken stupid risks but weren’t willing to suffer the consequences of those risks.  I became less and less enthusiastic for having voted for him.  Slowly, very slowly, I began to realize that George W. Bush was not for smaller government at all, and neither were the Republicans who supported him.  My passion for politics drastically waned as I became disillusioned by the empty rhetoric of both parties.

Fast forward to a hotel room in 2007 (can’t remember why I was in a hotel room, but I remember watching cable t.v., which Lukus and I don’t have).  The Republican debates were on and an alarming number of candidates stood on stage telling cutesy stories that began with such trite pandering as, “My daddy was a hard-working _________, and he always told me, ‘Son, in America, you can be anything you want to be.’”  It sounded like a Miss America pageant, but less interesting because there were no wardrobe changes.  I suspect that if there had been a swimsuit competition, Mitt Romney would have been the Republican hopeful and not McCain.  Let’s be honest, politics aside, Romney’s a hottie.

I sat on that luxurious hotel bed, completely bored with a political debate for the first time in my life – except for one guy, an old dude that sounded completely crazy - entertaining, but crazy.  I couldn’t stand him because he kept talking about these strange principles that had nothing to do with the usual Republican policies.  Each time he spoke (which wasn’t often), I gave a disgusted look toward Lukus, who finally said, “You know, I kinda like him.  He’s a bit strange, but I like him.”  I rolled my eyes.  And thus was my introduction to the man who would ultimately amputate my blind allegiance to the Republican party and introduce me to the basic principles of “liberty and justice for all.”  The debates with my family members would become more serious and heated, new friendships would be forged under intense pressure, and an old passion would be renewed.

This is how I came to know about Ron Paul.

To be continued.

So remember this little corner of my bedroom that I showed you from this post?

I’m about to tell you all about the exciting world contained within those notebooks beside the chair.  It’s a wonderful world – and had Louis Armstrong seen these binders of mine, he would have added a verse along the lines of,

“I see an organized mind

in coordinating binders,

every creative idea

contained by labeled dividers,

and I think to myself,

what a wonderful world.”

Okay, maybe not.  But I’m telling you, my crammed, cluttered, overwhelmed brain is thanking me profusely right now for finally giving it some room to breathe.

Maybe it’s just me, but as a mom/home-maker/home-schooler/wife/artist/blogger/dreamer, I have about a bazillion thoughts that pass through my brain every minute.  It’s both a gift and a curse – I can cook a meal while holding a fussy baby, telling my 4 year old not to climb on the fridge shelves, offering Lukus ideas for how to outline his economics master’s thesis, remembering to send a birthday card to my niece all while standing on my head reciting the periodic table all within 3.2 seconds.  But I also have to cook a meal while holding a fussy baby, telling my 4 year old not to climb on the fridge shelves, offering Lukus ideas for how to outline his economics master’s thesis, remembering to send a birthday card to my niece all while standing on my head reciting the periodic table all within 3.2 seconds.  Gift and curse I tell ya.

So these notebooks have become my brain.  You’re probably thinking that I’m straight out of 1863 – why don’t I just get an Ipad or some better phone apps or a computer chip in my brain?  I’m telling you, I’ve used my Mac and my phone and nothing compares to ink on paper – so yeah, I’m from 1863, what of it?  Besides, this also allows me to file away magazine tear-outs or hand-outs from home-school workshops, etc.

I used to carry a planner, but after a couple of years, it was jam-packed with everything from recipes to sermon notes, and they just couldn’t be contained any longer.  I realized that there are about 6-7 themes in my life (as you can tell from my blog tabs) and decided that I needed a planner for each theme, not just for personal use, but also to organize ideas for my blog.

So here are my notebooks, labeled for each of my blog tabs:

I saw these binders at Target in these coordinating patterns and grabbed one of each.  The one on the far left is labeled “Thriving Spirits”.  Inside, I have dividers to organize my Bible studies, prayer request lists, contact info for the people in our church small group, and lists of “spiritual classics” I want to read.  In the mornings when I have my quiet time, I open up this binder and I have some direction for how to spend my quiet time.

This notebook does double-duty for “Gypsy Souls & Vibrant Minds”.

Here’s where I house my “bucket list”, accounts of my travels, reading list, random ideas for solving the world’s problems, creative inspiration for art projects and fashion magazine cut-outs.

The brown notebook is for “Happy Bodies”.  The carcasses of many-a-Shape magazine end up here:

It’s inspiration mixed with practical application.  It’s here that I also record weight loss measurements or running progress.  It’s also pretty slim for taking to the gym.

This one, is of course “Artful Homes”.  Whenever my West Elm catalogue or Elle Decor magazine comes, it gets rearranged here without all of the ads for ridiculously priced faucets.

I have this divided by room, and each room contains a list for what needs to be done in that room in our house.  I store favorite paint chips here along with any lay-out drawings I do (something about graph paper and a ruler gets me high).

And finally, “Blissful Families” (I keep my homeschooling notebook separately).

Here’s where I keep Lukus’ neatly typed, very detailed birthday and Christmas wish-lists that he gives me every year, along with magazine or internet print-outs for family fun ideas (‘cuz we all get burned out on Chutes and Ladders at some point).  I have a list of the dates for all our family member’s birthdays and addresses (for those of you who haven’t gotten a birthday card yet, please remember that I only just finished this notebook), entertaining ideas, notes from marriage books and child-rearing books, lists of our Thanksgiving and Christmas traditions as well as new ideas.  I also have a list of friends whom I want to be sure to cultivate a relationship with since Lukus and I can tend to get a little absorbed with life and forget to foster those important friendships.  And I keep here a list of all of our neighbors names and addresses, partly for our neighborhood watch program, partly for general neighborliness, and partly to pray for each of these homes on a regular basis.

I’ll skip the grocery planning clip board for another post and show you the final clipboard (isn’t it cool that they had coordinating clipboards with a built-in note pad?

This is my favorite item.  I keep it by my nightstand instead of in the basket.  On the front, I have clipped an unfinished daily schedule which is nice to have at a glance.  On the inside is a simple notepad for recording my morning temperature and space for random thoughts I get at night that prevent me from sleeping if I don’t write them down.  Write ‘em down and POOF!  They’re gone!

The binders and clipboards were on the pricier end at $6 a pop, but I figured they would not only be a beautiful display, but under $40 is a lot cheaper than what a chip in my brain would probably cost.

So that’s it.  This is my brain.  This is my brain on paper.  Any questions?