This was not the plan

How many times have we all said that?

This was not the plan.

This wasn't even the plan for this post. I want to have some great insight to offer about how to survive difficult seasons of your life because Lord, it has been a long one. To sit here on my bed, computer in my lap, and say something that will help uplift someone. But the truth is that I am only in my room because I am hiding out. My parents are downstairs and, quite frankly, making me absolutely insane. I cannot watch one more episode of "Pimp My Ride" or the other nonsensical shows that have been playing on a loop without losing my mind. I thought that putting the spare tv in the guest bedroom would encourage them to watch tv in that room. Oh how wrong I was. So rather than biting my already bruised and bleeding tongue, I am hiding out.

Disclaimer: I am very certain that my father doesn't even know I have a blog and my mother might know that such a thing exists, but she certainly has never read it. For those of you who may not have met them and worry that I am offending.

So here I sit, sipping my drink, and contemplating a way to share all of what is going on here in this circus of my life that will include words other than expletives. The long and short of it is, that the only thing to say is that the Ringling Brothers ain't got nothing on this. So I have traded in writing for diapers and bottles and another lap around the house with a fussy baby. And the most exciting thing in my life right now is that I have figured out how to make my Fitbit count my steps when I'm carrying the baby in my arms. For tonight that will have to be enough.

One day, one day, there will be a new plan. A plan with vacations and sand and road-trip sing-a-longs and enough laughter to fuel us forever. But for tonight this will have to be enough.

A tale of two houses

Do you know what the definition of insanity should be? Trying to move with a very active 6-year-old and a fussy 3 month old baby. Even more insane is when you're trying to move everything yourself over the course of a couple of weeks instead of just packing it all up and doing it in one or two days. Originally I thought that it would be easier since I could take things that were already packed and get them out of the way. However, that just means that half of what I need is at each house, and never in the house that I need it to be at in the moment. In hindsight, I might have been incorrect in my assessment of what it would take to move.

This weekend was the final push and everything is officially under the same roof. Of course there are 14 million boxes and my whole extended family running around so it is about as chaotic as you would imagine. There is a distinct possibility that at this exact moment, I am hiding in a closet in order to write. I wasn't even really looking to write anything profound, just get out whole sentences that weren't me trying to figure out what to feed the hungry people around me demanding to be fed.

Not that I am not grateful to those people, because I am. There is absolutely no way that I could have moved without the enormous amount of help from the people that came to pitch in. I am just also incapable of making any more decisions at the moment, even if it's just what we want to be delivered, pizza or Chinese.  So I'm going to sit here in my quiet closet for five more minutes and do nothing in the glorious silence before I rejoin the land of the living. I'd stay a bit longer, but I forgot my glass of wine, and I'm a girl with priorities so I guess I shall have to head back out for now!

Pop-tarts and world peace

Through the years I have found that I tend to go in spurts. There are times where I am really on the ball, writing every day, blogging a couple times a week, checking in with my people often, and keeping everything balanced. During those spurts I feel invincible. All is right with the world and tiny birds hover around me singing as if I'm in a Disney movie. Okay, that might have been a slight exaggeration but it's pretty close.

THIS is not one of those spurts. I haven't sat down to write in well over a month and I'm very certain that I have friends who are cursing my name because I have been terrible about responding lately. (I am so very sorry if you are one of those people. I promise I'll try to get better soon). There are 12,000 sticky notes littering my notebooks and desk, most of which contain things that I have still forgotten even though I wrote them down.

I completely forgot that it was the 100th day of school until the day before; of course I had volunteered to send in fruit loops long before my life got crazy. After returning home from the store (where I got many important things like a new hooded sweatshirt), I realized that I had still forgotten the fruit loops. So we stopped at Kroger on the way in to school where I instantly became the coolest mom ever because when you're 6 years old, pop tarts and a hot cocoa from the in-store Starbucks is the BEST BREAKFAST IN THE WHOLE WORLD.

I feel very strongly that we could take a cue from the children in the world.  Can't we cure the world's problems with a nationwide trip to Starbucks and a sugary pastry? It solves most of my problems. And aren't all problems basically the same, just on different scales?  Perhaps someone should let the president know that we just solved that one for him. I mean, it may not fit into the whole fitness plan that his wife has implemented but I think we could all use a little more processed sugar in our lives. Don't you agree?

A year of changes

As we bring 2015 to a close and I reflect back on the last twelve months, I can't help but wonder how exactly I've managed to remain sane. Well sane-ish...I gave up on actual sanity years ago. It certainly has been a year of unexpected changes, some welcome, some not. I've joked with friends that rather than 'Gratitude', my word(s) for this year should have been 'expletives'. It doesn't really matter which one because they've all been rolling off my tongue in rapid fire succession in the midst of the years' events. I have tried to remain as positive as possible throughout everything that has happened. I have failed completely, laughed it off, and poured another drink. Now you all know that I'm a gin girl through and through.

BUT...

Apparently when the going gets tough the tough develop a taste for bourbon. Not that lately I've had much time for sitting and sipping on cocktails. Lately, I've been mainlining all of the caffeine I can handle. Coffee, soda, red bull, you name it, I'm drinking it. I have never been so tired or so full of joy in my life. If you're thinking it sounds like there's a new baby in our house, well, you'd be right.

I'd like you to meet Kinsley Blair Anderson, who we affectionately call KB. She was born the day before Thanksgiving and is the cutest little peanut ever. The story of how she came to live with us is long and complicated and really doesn't matter nearly as much as the fact that we love having her! As you can imagine, Alaina is beside herself with glee at the opportunity to play with a live baby doll.

Aren't they sweet in their pretty Christmas Dresses? Of course, what you're not seeing is me in the picture because 20 minutes of wrestling a newborn into tights left me a hot, sweaty mess. Which was absolutely worth it to see them dressed up together but not something I needed photographic evidence of. Let's just go ahead and assume that the only pictures coming up will be of the tiny humans since we all know that no one has time for mascara around here these days. But that's okay. They're cuter than the rest of us anyway.

Even when they're making crazy eyes at me for taking yet another picture because the one million that I've already taken just aren't enough.

Happy New Year!

Writing and meditation don't mix

November is always a crazy month for me. Each year I participate in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) with the goal of completing a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. Some years I make it, some years I don't but I always participate. The only difference this year is that I jumped in wholly unprepared. No outlines, no character sketches, no research, no prep work. Just jumped. So far it's...going. I'm struggling a little bit because I have little clips of scenes and absolutely no plot tying them together in the least. But that's okay. I'm sure that at some point everything will fall into place and a brilliant novel will emerge. HA! It's far more likely that complete crap emerges and it falls into the garbage can never to see the light of day again. At this point, I've made peace with either outcome.

On the 2nd I started a 21-day meditation challenge by Oprah & Deepak Chopra. Starting a meditation challenge at the same time I am trying to furiously write a novel may not have been the best idea. But we all know that I am not known for my fantastic decision making skills. It's only been a couple of days so I don't have much to report other than I suck at meditating and being still. I'm still waiting for the point when everything quiets and my life is suddenly zen. The cynic in me is yelling that I will never reach this point. Normally I yell back, but right now I am too busy meditating. Perhaps this is working after all...

None the less, I am fully engrossed with these two challenges over the next few weeks and will be sure to share my findings with you, boring though they may be. Hey, I never promised you quality material here. Sarcasm and inappropriate humor are much more my style. It's not too late to join me for either challenge if you're interested...the more the merrier!

Have a great week.

Acceptance

Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change. ~Mary Shelly

Life is funny. Feelings and emotions get wrapped up with rational thoughts and cloud my vision. The things that I could see so clearly, the things that I was so sure of suddenly became hazy. No matter how hard I try to bring it back into focus, nothing is the way that I thought it would be. Today I came to the realization that the thick fog surrounding me isn't going anywhere; it is my new normal. I have been waiting so long to get past the pain but there is no getting past it. The freshness will continue to subside and make way for the dull ache that will never completely leave me. It will be like phantom limb pain; the limb may be gone but the pain still exists and it is real.

When I wrote about the stages of grief, I imagined that acceptance would be like putting the final piece of the puzzle in place. Like it was actually something that could be completed and considered "done" and after that I would be all whole and healed. Perhaps that is not actually the case. Perhaps acceptance doesn't mean that there is no pain but that I am acknowledging that I bear the wounds of a battle hard fought. It means that I am owning my scars, wearing them proudly because they mean I have tried. I didn't just surrender to the grief and pain threatening to completely consume me. I am fighting to dig myself out of the trenches, bit by bit, until I can rise above the pain of the past. I might be an ugly, beaten, bloody, mess but I am still standing. And that is something I can finally accept.

Faithful to Me

This morning I got a wild hair and decided to check my junk email folder (something I never do) and thank God I did. Right there on the very top was an e-mail from Concert Window telling me that Jennifer Knapp had a show tonight. The fact that I had absolutely no idea prior to that just goes to show exactly how deeply entrenched in the dark place I have been this summer. I was ecstatic to see that not only was she going to be playing, she was going to be playing through her Kansas CD. I haven't heard her play most of these so I was really looking forward to watching. By the time 9:00 rolled around I was more than ready to get started.

Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.

I laughed until I was gasping for air as I listened to her tell about playing Christian music in a lesbian bar (not only can she sing, but the woman has a wicked sense of humor). This is the beauty of her concerts; the songs are phenomenal and the stories between the songs are pure gold. I got teary eyed as she played Martyrs & Thieves and it moved me in a way that it never has before. These songs...these songs I know better than I know myself. But every note, every line breathed fresh wisdom into my very weary soul.

By the time she closed out the show with 'Faithful to Me', I was completely undone. I cannot explain what happened in my house tonight. There are no words big enough to describe enormity what transpired. All I know is that it resonated so deep in my marrow that I will never, ever forget it.


Faithful to Me

All the chisels I've dulled carving idols of stone
That have crumbled like sand 'neath the waves.
I'v recklessly built all my dreams in the sand,
Just to watch them all wash away.

Through another day, another trial, another chance to reconcile
To one who sees past all I see.
And reaching out my weary hand I pray that you'd understand
You're the only one who's faithful to me.

All the pennies I've waste in my wishing well
I have thrown like stones to the sea.
I have cast my lots, dropped my guard, searched aimlessly,
For a faith to be faithful to me.

Through another day, another trial, another chance to reconcile
To one who sees past all I see.
And reaching out my weary hand I pray that you'd understand
You're the only one who's faithful to me.
You're the only one who's faithful to me.

Few burdens are heavy when we lift together

We all have the ones we turn to when the skies get rough and we need a safe haven in the storm. Call them your friends, your tribe, your family...I even have a friend who calls them her sluts (which I love and is in no way indicative of their moral compass). I call them my people.


One of my favorite bloggers, Sarah Bessey, calls them her Somewheres. They are the people she turns to for the things that can't be kept in and can't, or don't need to be shared with everyone. I encourage you to go read her post in it's entirety here. It is raw and poignant and beautifully transparent. Nothing I can say about it will do it any sort of justice so please go read it...if you want to read the rest of her posts while you're at it, I promise that you won't be disappointed.


Her words were exactly what I needed to hear today and it got me thinking about my own Somewheres. My girls. My people. The ones I hold dear to my heart and am very certain that I would not make it without. My words are failing to convey the deep and holy place they hold in my heart. Once again, it was music that said it more perfectly than I ever could. For the last month or so there has been a couple of lines in an old Point of Grace song that have been playing over and over again in my head.

If you weep, I will weep with you. If you sing for joy the rest of us, will lift our voices too.

A few days ago I found myself with a house full of people and a desperate need to escape for a minute to clear my head. Every few moments another one of my girls appeared to check on me until there were 4 of us sitting on the floor of my not-so-huge bathroom. As we talked and cried and laughed, I looked around at their sweet faces and felt gratitude overflow my heart. They all left the party to sit on my (less than clean) bathroom floor just so I wouldn't be sitting there alone. How could I ask for anything more than that?

But no matter what you feel inside there's no need to pretend...

Whatever one of us is going through, the rest rally around to celebrate or encourage or just sit in the silence. There is no room for judgment or guilt or shame when we are together. We wouldn't dare mar the beauty of the haven we've built with something ugly. It is a safe place for each of us to come and share our burdens, concerns, joy & many, many cocktails. No matter what, day or night, full make-up, or with mud masks on, my people will meet me wherever I am.

Even when that place is a dirty bathroom floor.

I'm still looking up

When I look into your eyes

It's like watching the night sky

Or a beautiful sunrise

Well there's so much they hold

And just like them old stars

I see that you've come so far

To be right where you are

How old is your soul?

I won't give up on us

Even if the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up

And when you're needing your space

To do some navigating

I'll be here patiently waiting

To see what you find

'Cause even the stars they burn

Some even fall to the earth

We've got a lot to learn

God knows we're worth it

No, I won't give up

I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily

I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make

Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use the tools and gifts

We got yeah, we got a lot at stake

And in the end,

You're still my friend at least we didn't tend

For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn

We had to learn, how to bend without the world caving in

I had to learn what I got, and what I'm not

And who I am

I won't give up on us

Even if the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up

I won't give up on us

God knows I'm tough, he knows 

We got a lot to learn

God knows we're worth it

I won't give up on us

Even if the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up...

General nonsense and avoidance issues

I have been a terrible blogger lately, but honestly I've been writing lots...just not posting it. I haven't really been in the mood to talk, I'm still not actually so instead I'm going to post about everything else going on in my life except all the stuff that I really should be talking about. Because I can't. It's just too painful and too raw and talking about it just makes it feel real. And I cannot bear the thought of it being real. So here we go.

1. I've recently gotten an AppleTV and it's like Christmas morning every evening now. Who knew watching Netflix on an actual television and not a 6" tablet was that much better? And should I get a wild hair and want to exercise all I have to do is click on over to YouTube for a video. No laptops hooked up with cables and having to get up every time I want to look for something else on the keyboard. It's glorious. Which leads me into my next point

2. Grace & Frankie is my new favorite show. Fortunately/Unfortunately it's a Netflix original series which means that all of the episodes are released at once for the entire season. This is a double edged sword people. I love, love, love that I get to watch all of the episodes back to back without waiting a week in between. However I finished the entire season in approximately 2 days and now have to wait until 2016 for season 2 to come out. Is it just me or does that seem like it's REALLY far away?

3. I am currently working on 3 different crocheting projects, which is par for the course for me. I tend to get all caught up in a multitude of projects and then get so tired of looking at yarn I can't wait to be finished with them. Fast forward 3 months of not working on anything and repeat.

4. Tomorrow is the first Saturday in forever that we haven't had a soccer game to go to and I couldn't be more excited. Alaina loves going to the kids craft club at Michaels on Saturday mornings and she is beside herself that she gets to go again. I am also thrilled because for the bargain price of $2, Alaina gets to craft/paint/glue/glitter and generally make a mess that someone else is going to clean up for me. Can I get an AMEN?

5. Bathing suit shopping is miserable and really disheartening. I don't understand why it has to be SO difficult. I find it especially sad that I am struggling to find a cute, non-licensed character, 1 piece swimsuit for my child. My daughter who specifically asked for a 1 piece bathing suit because she likes to just step into it and go. If I don't want a bikini or a giant picture of Elsa my options are slim. When did just get an average bathing suit become so hard to find? The adult section is not much better. My choices are tiny bikinis, skirted suits in palm tree prints, or something that is actually cute but costs $200. NO bathing suit makes me feel attractive enough to spend that kind of money.

And I think that's about it for me. I do believe I have supplied you with enough high quality information to last for the weekend, don't you?

Hope you all have a great one.

S

Stitch Fix: My very first fix

Has everyone heard about Stitch Fix?  If you haven't, please let me be the first to tell you about it.  A personal stylist hand selects 5 pieces for you (after reading your extensive questionnaire) and ships them straight to your door.  The box looks something like this:

And then you unwrap the tissue to find all of these little gems peeking out at you from inside. The necklace was off to the side since I was having a hard time not getting glare from the box when I took the picture.

You immediately start geeking out and trying everything on right there in your dining room because the bedroom is just too darn far away and you can't wait.  This was my experience at least, (though I lie and tell myself it's because the lighting is better in the dining room). They even give you a style card with suggestions on how to put your pieces together with things you already own.  For the style-challenged like me.

Here are better close ups of all the pieces that were in my box:

Rosa Tab Sleeve V-Neck Blouse

Cynthia Graphic Print Mixed Media Top

Dita Sleeveless Ponte Dress

Walt Skirt

Mannie Leaf and Triangle Necklace

The $20 styling fee that you pay when your box is shipped is applied towards whatever pieces you keep in the box. If you are completely in love with everything in the box and keep all 5 pieces, they apply a 25% discount to the total. The dress and the tab sleeve blouse were a little dark in color for me to purchase in the spring.  Beautiful pieces but I wasn't in love with them enough to purchase.

The skirt and the mixed fabric top made my heart so very happy...until I put them on.  Neither piece fit me the way that I would have liked it to. There's a faint possibility that I could not even get the skirt to zip. Note, that I do not believe Stitch Fix is to blame as much as Cheeseburger Bobby's. Nonetheless, both those pieces went back too.

Ah, the necklace though. This little gem is layered with an adjustable length chain that I can make as long or as short as I need it to be.  You'll note that the picture above is taken on a person and that is because I have already worn it twice since Friday. I like that it is delicate enough to not be a distraction, but with enough detail to catch your eye if worn with the right shirt.  It is the only piece that I chose to keep out of the box, but I am more than okay with that. I sent back comments about the pieces and am curious to see how the next fix comes out. Stay tuned and I'll let you know when it comes the beginning of June!

Burdens should not have to be carried alone

Sweet girl.

You have been on my mind every second of today.  I can't seem to focus on anything else; every ounce of my being is broken for you.

I don't know what to say.  I don't know what to tell you.  The hurt for everything you are walking through is too great for words.  Tears are streaming down my face because I can't fix it.  Oh, but I would.  If I could just kiss the boo boo, put a band-aid on it and rock you in my lap until you felt better I would do exactly that.

Why are grown-up problems so much harder to solve than kids?  If only we had known then, we might have blown off the skinned knee a little more often.

It's too much.  It's too much to comprehend, too much to try to wrap my brain around.  Over and over and over I run through it all again, trying to think of a way to help you.  I feel so helpless.  It's the worst feeling in the world, helplessness.  Watching someone you love suffering, unable to do a damn thing about it.  Forget fire-filled inferno's, that is true hell.

I know that God is in control, He just feels so very far away right now.

Thank you, for sharing your heart with me.  For finding my home to be a shelter in the storm.  For trusting that your most intimate fears are safe in my hands.  Rest assured that they are, my darling.  I am clutching them to my chest and weeping with you, pouring out unspoken prayers in rivers. Walk a little lighter, knowing that this weight is not on your shoulders alone.

I love you.

I am here.

It will get better.

I really, really hope it's soon.

Sunshine and a clean house make everything better

Rain, rain, rain, hail, tornado, rain....

It has been DAYS since the sun has shown itself.  We have watched countless hours of tv, read every book in the house, played dress up, played lets-stay-in-our-pjs-all-day (that was mostly just me), crafted, cleaned, and generally driven each other crazy. When you trap two very creative type people with one OCD type person under the same roof for an extended period, it creates a vicious cycle of making messes and cleaning.

It goes without saying that I am not the obsessively clean and tidy person in my house.  I'm very certain that I have a vision condition that causes mess to vanish from my sight. N, on the other hand, has the exact opposite condition in which every speck is seen, whether it exists or not.  This combination is about as exciting as you are imaging right now.  Rather than trying to reach a compromise, we decided to get a housekeeper.

It was the best decision EVER.

Last night I came home from a particularly long and heinous day to a sparkling, fresh smelling house and it was glorious. There was nothing that needed to be done except...nothing.  I sat on the couch and enjoyed all of the nothingness all evening, completely guilt-free.  Gone was the nagging feeling that there were things that needed to be done. This morning for the first time in a week, the sun was shining bright and early with not a cloud to be seen.  I could actually hear the birds chirping as I was getting ready.  All I needed were woodland creatures gathered around as I burst into song and it would have been a scene from every Disney movie ever created.

The sunshine my be short lived (like the state of perfection in my house) but I'll take it and enjoy for as long as it lasts.

One space...or two?

I would like to give a shout out to my sweet friend Christen (Mississippi for those familiar) for messing with my head before double digits this morning.  Everyone who knows me at all knows that unless it is vital that we speak immediately, it can wait until after 10:00.  Try as I might, I can't get the tiny human to understand that 6:30 is not an acceptable time to wake mommy up.

This morning, she asks me if I put one space or two at the end of my sentences.  Two.  NOPE, she says.  Just like that.  And you know what, she's not wrong.  To be fair, I am not either because it seems that this is just like the color-of-the-dress drama where both sides are vehement and no one can agree.  I am more distressed at the fact that I have missed this debate completely somehow.  I am not up on a lot, but I usually am ahead of the game when it comes to spelling, grammar, and all things nerdy.

Immediately, I turned to my most trusted source, Google, to see what the rest of the world thinks about the great space debate.  Oxford and Chicago say one is better.  MLA says that as long as it's consistent, it is arbitrary whether you use one or two.  All day, I have been trying to type with only one space but I can't seem to make my fingers match.  Too many years of typing has my thumb in the habit of hitting the space bar twice at the conclusion of my sentences.

Am I the only one that learned to type this way?  I'd love to hear what your thoughts are about it...really, I do want to know.  Which I believe just goes to show how exciting my life really is these days.

Nobody's Cuter Than You!

If you do not have your copy of Melanie's new book, I command you to go out and get yourself one immediately.  Yes, I called her Melanie like we're best friends because after 20 some odd hours listening to BigBoo podcast archive I feel as if I already know her.  Hopefully I will get the chance to meet her at dotMom this fall and make a complete fool of myself as I try to refrain from babbling and trying to koala hug her at the same time.

I digress.

Her book is amazing.  To say that it is about friendship feels like an understatement.  But anyone who has ever been deeply blessed by a good friend knows that there aren't enough words to describe how wonderful they are.  Melanie captures this in a way that leaves me breathless from laughing even as tears are pouring down my face.  It is so beautiful and you will be better for having read it.  I am THRILLED to say that you can find this in your local Wal-Mart (I got the last copy in mine!) or you can order it from amazon or barnes & noble.  If you must, you can also download it to your kindle or whatever you're reading on that is not a book.  I don't understand this because you cannot smell the pages through a screen, but I know I'm one of the few rare true book nerds left.  The point is, however you want to obtain your copy, do so with a quickness.

Oh and Sophie is the other one on the podcast and her newest book is next on my list along with Tina Fey's Bossy Pants.  Head over to her blog and check her out as well.  I promise that you will not be disappointed!

He'll meet you wherever you are

Last week was not an excellent one.  There was one day in particular that just got started off on the wrong foot. I was tired, grumpy and generally not feeling like I was exhibiting my best self.  I'm sure none of you are shocked by this, but I think it's important to be honest about the state I was in.  This carried on through the better part of the day and I was SO looking forward to going home as soon as I helped the last person in front of me.  My plan was to get Alaina from school and let her watch as many cartoons as she wanted while we snuggled on the couch.

I imagine that God likes to laugh a lot at the plans I make.

As I was helping her, we were talking a bit and I could tell that a heavy burden was being carried.  I listened to her telling her story and my heart broke at the same time my brain was wondering how she was managing to get up every morning.  The counter between us seemed like a ridiculously large barrier so I walked around it to stand next to her.  As she continued talking, I felt very strongly that she wasn't the only one speaking to my heart.  God's voice was right there, telling me to pray with her.

I am firmly rooted in my faith and have no trouble whatsoever expressing my beliefs.  I also have a firm grasp on the fact that not everyone believes what I believe.  The office is not a place where I feel the need to speak to people about the Romans Road or ask if their name is written in the Lambs Book of Life.  Asking a complete stranger if I could pray over her while standing in the front office was not on my list of things to do.  Ever.  But that is the thing about being called by God; He doesn't so much care if it was on your to-do list.  He knows you better than you know yourself and He is going to use you exactly where you are.

I had to dig the words deep from my gut and force them out.  But I asked her if I could pray with her and she said yes.  I have no idea what I said, but it didn't matter.  If God could use me as a vessel, He could make the words tumbling out be what she needed to hear.  I am very sure that there were some very surprised co-workers who were wondering why the lesbian girl that is sometimes a little rough around the edges was crying and praying in the front office.  One of them asked who she was...I responded honestly that I've never met her before in my life.

I am so, so imperfect.  I make mistakes and less than loving decisions often.  But I cannot, CANNOT ignore very clear convictions about something I am being called to do.  Even when they don't make sense to anyone else.  Even when they don't make sense to me.  I don't know why I was called to pray with this woman on this day, but I walked away with a renewed sense of wonder at the awesome God we serve.  We live in a world that loves to judge and tell people that aren't "good Christians" that God hates them.

THAT IS NOT TRUE.

Just like an earthly parent, God wants nothing more than to lavish you with love and joy.  He may not always think you're making the best choices, but He NEVER stops loving you.  He NEVER stops listening if you want to talk.  There is ALWAYS room in his lap to curl up and let yourself be comforted.  So wherever you are, please hear that today.  Tune out all of the noise around you from other imperfect people and listen to the voice of the One who matters.

Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord - Romans 8:38-39

Watch out Mia Hamm

The stars aligned, mother nature smiled down on us and the sun shown through the clouds just in time for Alaina's first soccer game on Saturday.  As a mama, I couldn't wait to see my girl in her first organized sports game.  As a realistic human, I was pretty skeptical about how 8, 5-year-olds were going to play when the first practice was held 30 minutes before the game.  Which, by the way, was precisely why we like this league; we do not have time to be messing with another weeknight event.  My sweet girl has never really been super competitive so I was shocked to see how quickly she morphed into MY child and dove right into the game.

Look at this sweetness with the little teeth gap and pigtails.  Who could have guessed that ten seconds later the monster would be unleashed and she would look like this?

Leader of the pack...though the little girl to her left really is as tiny as she looks and is absolutely adorable.

It was alllll good until the collision.  Then came the waterworks.  But look at those pigtails flying in the air!

Stretching in between rotations.  Gotta make sure those muscles stay warm and limber!

And my favorite.....watching with glee as her team scored another goal!  I don't think that they keep score but if anyone was...we lost but played with great heart, if not great coordination.

I have to say that I officially felt like a "mom" sitting on the sidelines cheering from a camp chair.  It's a really different feeling from having a baby.  Knowing how fast the last (almost) 6 years have gone by and that in another 6 she's going to be almost a teenager.  Excuse me while I go have a mini stroke now.

Till next week...

Luck of the Irish

Is there anything more charming & adorable than the innocence of a child?

Last night before we went to bed, Alaina informed me that we HAD to make a leprechaun trap.  Seeing as I have an unnatural love for St. Patricks day, I was a thousand percent down for this adventure.  She used a Kleenex box with a tissue over the top of the hole and put a shiny coin on top to lure him up there.  Her logic was that he would walk on the tissue to get the coin, fall down inside and be trapped.  I'm not gonna lie to you, I was pretty impressed with my five year old for thinking the whole thing through.  And she didn't even use Pinterest like her mama would have.

This morning she was so excited to check and see if she caught a leprechaun (which she was planning to keep as a pet, by the way.  I'm not sure she truly grasps the concept of the Irish faerie but I wasn't about to spoil it for her).  The glee on her face when the coin was missing almost made me feel guilty for what was coming next.  She lifted the tissue and her jaw dropped when she saw the empty box.

"He's not in there!" She frantically picked the box up and turned it over to shake it out.  "Mom.  It's empty.  There's nothing in there.  But he took the coin...(wheels are turning)...maybe he's hiding somewhere else!"  For the next 10 minutes she proceeded to check every nook and cranny she could think of downstairs but he was no where to be seen.  She even checked her backpack on the way to school.

My explanation of faerie magic and that he probably didn't want to be someone's pet fell on deaf ears.  I shutter to think of how many traps we are going to need to set next year...

Wishing you all the luck of the Irish today.  And should you find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, feel free to send some back to me!

Has anyone seen my marbles?

These days my brain is just not functioning quite the way that it used to.  I feel like I need to be taking some sort of Ginko or St. Johns Wart or whatever it is that is supposed to help your memory.  Though at this point I'm in such a sorry state that I am fairly certain I am way beyond help.  It's really bad.

Alaina has been obsessed with marbles lately.  Had Santa realized that the $2 bag of marbles was going to be her favorite gift, he might have gone a different route with some of the other things he brought.  But isn't that just the way it goes with children?  I thought we had passed the phase where the big gifts were overlooked for the thrill of box hats and bubble wrap, but apparently I was wrong.  Mental note for next year I suppose.

I digress.

We have had a problem with keeping the marbles put up after they're done being played with.  Since none of the people under our roof are particularly graceful, a floor full of things to trip on is pretty dangerous.  Sunday, I had enough and cleaned up the marbles to a ziploc bag and hid them.  When she asked for them, I politely explained that if she had been the one to clean them up as asked, she would know where they were and could play with them.  Because I had to, we were going to take a break from the marbles for the afternoon.  Later in the day she asked for them back and I went to get them from where I hid them.  Or at least where I thought I hid them.  After an exhaustive search they were nowhere to be seen.

Guys.  I lost my marbles.  Literally.

I have been steadily looking for them in my free time over the last couple days and I still have no idea where they are.  It doesn't feel possible that in the span of a few hours, I would have completely forgotten where I put something so specific.  But if it can be done, I will find a way I suppose.  At this point I feel very strongly that it might be worth the $2 to buy some more marbles and chalk it up to a loss.  Sometimes you just have to know when to call it quits and throw in the towel.  I'm pretty sure losing your marbles is that point.

Hope you all have a thrilling Thursday!

Procrastination...or lies I tell myself

Ah procrastination.  You are a friend of mine.

You so sweetly remind me that there is no need to rush to the dishes when my toenails so clearly need to be painted.

It just makes no sense to do the laundry until the dresser drawers have been reorganized.  And the closet has been purged to make room for the clothes I'm going to buy  that will be clean and ready to put away.

I can't get up when the clock says 5:08 because I only get up on the quarter hour.  I'll just close my eyes until 5:15.  Whoops, now it's 5:17,  Guess I'll just have to wait until 5:30.

Friends really don't stay in touch enough these days.  You should definitely sit down to send some e-mails before you start dinner.  While the computer is out and fired up you might as well go ahead and order those new wedges for summer.  The sale might end if you wait too long and that's just not fiscally responsible.

Hop on Twitter.  You'll only be on for a second.

Walking to the mailbox totally counts as your exercise for today.  You don't have to break a sweat for it to be effective.

Taking a nap is absolutely necessary.  Don't the doctors keep saying how important sleep is for your health?  Better yet, have a glass of wine before you lay down.  Between that and the walk you're practically a new person.

Reading a new book is exactly the same as sitting down to work on yours.

As is writing a new blog post.  Especially if it's about procrastination.  Because everyone reading needs a reason to procrastinate themselves.

You're welcome fellow procrastinators.