Time, Traditions, Transitions and Pinworms

Time.  So many people tell you that it slips away.  It's gone before you know it.  Turn around and poof...life has warped.  Or time has warped.  They warn against wasting it, thinking you have all of it in the world, and that you should cherish it in the moments.  I believed all of those things to be true.  I reveled, for the most part in the moments as they happened.  Soaked in the memories, the traditions, and the people, children, family and friends, who were a part of them.  The small corner of realist in me knew that time would change things; that with each passing year we were drawing closer to a new era, a new time, with new traditions, memories,  and people to share them with.  The idealist in me, which takes up far more of my psyche, was certain that I would be prepared,  and transition into that era with the grace and acceptance my mother modeled.  Outwardly, I am putting on a decent show of it.  But inside. Inside I'm falling apart,  Inside feels like a weekend binge of Stepmom, Steel Magnolias, Sweet Home Alabama and Homeward Bound, and a long parade of marching bands.

One hundred percent, I thought I had one more year.  I was prepared this year to soak it in, potentially for the last time.  Those traditions and activities that have filled this holiday weekend.  Tree day.  Decking the halls.  I was girded up,  ready to handle each ornament one last time, remembering each circumstance of its arrival to our tree.  I was even ready to grudingly let the kids put the pregnant " Mom to Be" rabbit and kangaroo on this year.  Seriously, an ornament to mark every life circumstance and milestone is in our box!  Pregnant rodents.  Good lord! The Polish glass Santa, a gift from a dear elderly neighbor, my first year in Flushing.  Mittens bought on a weekend getaway,  four  creepy Victorian doll heads, nursery rhyme books, trains, bears, cats, football players, black Santa,  the Big Cheese and a Magic School Bus.  I knew decorating this year might be a bit emotional for me.  I knew there would be some staring, and laughing and some barking of "pull yourself together," which might be hissed  the loudest from my internal voice.  But things haven't gone quite as I had thought or planned. 

Instead of pushing forward with the traditional activities and exhausting demands of tree day, we spent time with wonderful and dear family who rarely visit.  We pulled it together to go get a tree, acknowledging that this would  be the last year, only to pull into the farm to find their sign announcing  "This is Our Last Year."  It seemed fitting.  We were so thankful that we had decided to go.  We had almost chucked the idea.  Some of our St. Paul family joined us, to experience cutting a live Michigan tree.  It was lovely. Balmy and bright.   There was laughing and singing and debating, and some pressure to get a Christmas bush instead of a nicely shaped spruce.  When you get your own house you can put up a Christmas bush or a Douglas Fir, or a Jack Pine, but this last year, this last tree day, I'm looking for a magnificent Blue Spruce to carry me through.  A spruce to remember and mark this passage of time.  A bookend to the first perfectly shaped Blue the light shone on 24 years ago at this very farm.  I didn't say any of that out loud, except  the part about "getting your own Christmas bush," but the rest was all in my head.  And heart.  The rest I was soaking in, knowing it would be the last.  That next year will be different. 

We opted out of decorating on tree day.  We didn't even bring the tree in.  It's actually still outside, laying on the patio, still bound in its red wrap. It will get inside eventually.  I hope,   We spent the rest of tree day laughing and talking too loud and playing horrifically inappropriate games at a home town brewery.   Because we needed time out of the house, because we needed to cherish and take in cousins and in laws and each other.  Because we  all needed to be  fully informed about things like pin worms and how to find out if you have them, and that all of us have a bit of emotional "stuff" we still struggle with. We needed to laugh.  At ourselves and each other.  We needed to let go and not hold so tightly to the traditions of the past, and focus on the time we have right now. Right here. In this moment. 

So today, I am mostly here on my own.  I am forging ahead with a new kind of tradition.  I am slowing down, not racing to get it all done so that everything looks and feels like it always has.  I am reworking, reexamining, revising, as I step across the threshold into a new era a bit before I thought I would have to.  I admit, as I am holding some things perhaps for the last time, and I am doing a bit of weeping.  And laughing. And shaking my head at those damn pregnant rodent ornaments.  But I am also taking my time doing it.  Inclined  to put whatever I am doing aside to revel in other moments of time that are right in front of me.  Although, if any of the people that are a part of those moments want to help me decorate this tree...I'll gladly hand them a bulb, and then tell them where to hang it.

Era of the Surreal

Surreal is as close a word as can be used to describe life currently.  At a point which seems not very long ago, my life was about raising kids,  and it seemed as though those days would last forever; in a good way most of the time…really, honestly.  Well, some days it may have seemed like an eternity in a not so great place, but by and large…good!  I was so fortunate to be home when my kids were growing up, only entering the workforce in recent years.  Even then, the work I have done has kept me close to them, in proximity if nothing else.  The light of the childrearing tunnel has been a distant pinpoint for many years.  One I have not envisaged apparently for a long while. So this week when I dared look up, and around, and forward, I realized that the light has become very large, glaring even, while I hurtle to the conclusion of these parenting days.

I looked up this week because #4, Elsa, the fourth and last daughter, is graduating from high school.  This in and of itself has its own out of body experience tied to it.  She is an anomaly within our fairly bright and intelligent family, standing out as a super achiever, graduating 2^nd in her class of over 300!  This is her shining hour to be sure.  She has embraced all of her years of schooling with an enthusiasm and fervor which has been remarkable to watch.  While her siblings all enjoyed their high school years, Elsa has experienced every aspect of high school possible to its fullest extent, most of the time with her bosom chum Libby alongside her!  AP classes, Student Council, Class Vice President, theater, vocal music, lacrosse, NHS, French Club, Book Club, community service projects, Homecoming dances, court, Sadies, Prom; there are pictures to mark her investment and involvement in all of these things and more!  Just this morning she was honored at a local business club as the Rotary Student of the Month, and it was there that I started to feel overwhelmed with pride in the person she has grown to be.  This 4^th daughter, who I worried would always be growing in the shadow of three older sisters, has clearly not been shadowed by anyone. She has grown, bloomed and flourished while the rest of us have watched her with astonishment and a bit of quizzical wonder through the process.   She will graduate with many honors next week,  and in the fall move across the country to attend college and begin a different journey away from me.  Away from the home where I thought I would be raising her (and her siblings)  for what seemed like so many more years.

Surreal is the realization that this very home, which has been seeping estrogen for so many years, will, for the first time, harbor a more balanced measure of estrogen and testosterone. I have always viewed myself as a mother of girls….and The Boy.  This house is, in many ways, “a girl house,” by color scheme and the feminine paraphernalia that litters every room; e.g. make-up, foundation garments, shoes, scarves, sundry accessories, feminine products, and on and on the list goes.  All this does not preclude signs of the lone male cub here, to be sure, there are many.  Balls for one.  There are balls everywhere.  In the house, in the yard, in the garage, in the trees, and of course the obvious set, which thankfully we do not see but I would be remiss to not acknowledge their existence,  just sayin’.  The sounds in the house are distinctly The Boys.  Train horns. Vines.  YouTube videos.  Episode after  episode of South Park and other such nonsensical shows.  Plates of dried food, and wrappers from said items, scattered like so much trash in an alley.  There are signs. 

Over the next three years I wonder how the estrogen seeping, girl house will evolve.  I wonder if the whiffs of estrogen that will be left in the wake of the last daughter leaving will linger in corners, swirling at our feet on days The Boy and I are missing The Sisters.  I wonder if we will miss them with an ache, like amputees miss their limbs, or if the years of estrogen will be like a fading memory, pushed out by all the new balance of hormonal ascendancy.   I wonder how quickly these last three years of parenting will fly by.  Actually, I think I know the answer to that.  The last 26 have hurtled by without my realizing the speed at which they were passing.  I want to slow things down.  I want these next years to move like a zephyr, softly and gently.  I want to pump the brakes and relish these last years, much like I cherished the first years.  Soaking up the moments, the small things of everyday life.  Even when I know that many of those small, everyday things will not be centered on the girl-centric things of the earlier years. Fully understanding and embracing that these last years of small, everyday things will likely include Vines, and trains, and YouTube and of course, balls.  

Grief and Raw Humanity

While enjoying a week of solitude and introspection, I awoke this morning to a Face Book post from a dear friend who lost her son on Monday.  Not misplaced lost, but lost forever from this good earth.  He was young, 21ish.  We were pregnant at the same time.  It is not in my schema to even fathom the magnitude of her anguish and grief. 

Being alone these past few days, I have been awash, grieving the loss of my brother over a year ago.  It seems fresh almost daily.  There are days when I feel his absence from my life so keenly I want to curl up and wail.  I rarely do though.  Generally I just muster through, push the memories to the back and keep moving forward.  This week I have had the unfettered time to sift through the vast store of memories we shared together and to weep, speak and laugh and even bitch at him for leaving so damn soon.  

Grief is something many of us never spend a great deal of time considering.  Many people, myself included, believe that losing someone we love is such a distant event that we are blindsided by loss when it happens.  Often we find ourselves lost in a sea of regret.  Not making time, not answering the phone, not seeing the pain or loneliness, not remembering the minutia of the last conversation or not saying the words.  The thing is, regret doesn’t do anything except make us miserable.  And if I know one thing to be true, it is that the people we loved who are gone would not want us to be miserable.  They want us to remember them.  To celebrate who they were in our lives.  To keep their memories alive, though they are no longer.  To talk about them when we see or hear something that brings them to mind and to LAUGH! At least that is what the person I lost would want. 

Today, as my dear friend wades through her sea of loss, I find myself remembering something  Emmett Till’s mother realized  when he was murdered.  She said “I realized that this would be my load to carry. No one can carry it for me, and I will carry it for the rest of my days.”  While this is certainly true, we all carry the load of our grief individually, with our own love and shared experiences completely separated from others, I understand today more than ever that is the compassion and empathy of others in our lives that make carrying those loads bearable. 

People we care about are grieving all around us every day.  Their loss may not be recent, but the pain of it when it surfaces, always feels fresh and raw.  Their grief may not be related to death.  They may be grieving the loss of a dream or a marriage.  They need us to stand with them.  To make carrying their  load bearable even for a few hours.  

The last story my brother told me was about a woman in a veterinarian’s office who saw that my nephew, his heart breaking, was there to put their dog to sleep.  In his words, “She was a behemoth of a woman, there with her little ratty mongrel.  She just lumbered up out of her chair and wrapped her enormous arms around Nate and said, Honey, you just go ahead and cry, I’m so sorry you lost your dog.”  Through his weeping on the phone my brother pointed out that it was such a great reminder of the healing power people had for each other when they reached out in raw humanity to experience and share others sorrows and burdens.    

Who needs you to stand beside them and walk with them today? 

Chapter 1: Introduction

My friend recently made a furtive case for me to begin this book.  He believes in me. He has believed in me nearly since the first days we have known each other.  He believes unequivocally that within me lies the potential for a good (if not great) book.  He believes the stories I have shared with him, and others, are stories that people who don't know me or my family or friends or circumstances, will relate to.  On a human level.  In our recent conversation he also expressed his concern that he worries if I don't begin soon, that my potential for, and I quote, in a thick Scottish accent, "I worry that if you don't get things down soon, that your potential for a positive outcome will run out!!"  

Well!!  All that belief and then WHAM!!  My shocked and puzzled expression did not come close to what I was thinking (OK, and may have said out loud).  "What the hell (may have been a different word) does that mean?"  "Positive outcome on what?  My love life?  My career? (Which I hadn't even begun yet) Life in general?"  I worried that he had some kind of insight into my future which I was not privy to.  I pondered for a moment if this was in some fashion his way of letting me know that my life, as he was observing it, was like some kind of train wreck movie  waiting to happen.  If memory serves me correctly, I think I fired off a myriad of these questions like an automatic weapon.  Calm Scot that he is, he waited for my barrage of questions to cease and then he said calmly (because it's my life that is in danger of a" less than positive outcome", not his), "you are pulled in so many directions, by so many different circumstances and people, and the issues you deal with are not small, and over time I worry they are going to take their toll on you.  Right now you deal with them for the most part with a positive attitude and outlook, but eventually they are bound to begin to wear you down.  A person can take only so much stress and emotional pressure." 

When we had this conversation I laughed at his perspective on my life.  On his perception that "a person can take only so much."  Since that evening though, I have given his words considerable thought and weighed them for their merit. 

This is where I am today.  I am completely sure that whatever my "outcome" is, that my spin on it will be (has to be) positive.  I am completely certain that every aspect of the life I have lived to date has weight and bearing on the future outcome and that along the way there have been moments, both positive and negative. Additionally, I am pretty certain (note the use of a qualifier, just to cover my ass in case I'm wrong and have to admit it later) that much like those which have passed, the moments ahead will also be both positive and negative.  The quality I possess and have utmost hope and faith in continuing, is my ability to view and live in those moments with humor, flexibility, a thick (armadillo like) skin, and hope!  

In the pages that follow I hope to share with you some of these moments, both the positive and the negative.  As I finally commit to penning them down, I am holding on to the hope that some of these stories might carry with them a ring of truth and hope for you as well.   Of course my most sincere and deepest hope is that by writing them now I will perhaps increase my chances for a "positive outcome."  

Friends

When you are preparing yourself and your kids to put the family pet to sleep, there are hundreds of thoughts, memories and emotions that run unbridled through your mind. But the reality is, there is only so much mental preparation which can be done, only so much talking through and consoling, and in the end you are confronted with the task.

There is much about today that I could write about, the conversations, the drive, the scene at the animal hospital, and the torrents of tears that were shed unashamedly. All of those things bear remembering, but tonight the scene and experience which continues to run through my minds eye and heart are the friends who stood beside my children.

Olivia texted me early in the day to let me know that her bon homme, Ally would be accompanying us to the vet. It bears saying that as Olivia's best friend, Ally is no stranger to grieving the loss of a pet with Olivia. In all of the other instances though, she has been notified and sought out for the comfort which only a best friend can offer, after the beloved pets have died. Today she volunteered to go, to watch, to comfort, laugh and weep alongside her friend during the entire event. She watched Heidi's eyes as she drifted off, and dug her hands deep into her fur as she lay on the table, standing next to Olivia and Fiona the entire time. Once home, she volunteered to relieve Fiona as she was digging the hole a bit wider to accomodate the blanket...and again as Noah and Fiona seemed to tire filling it back in.

Noah chose to stay with the neighbor boys while we took Heidi to the vet, but he wanted to help bury her. Arriving back home, I watched as he left their yard, accompanied on both sides by his two chums, Ian and Kyle, ages 8 and 6 respectively. They walked to our house in silence, Ian never taking his eyes off of Noah, and keenly watching his face and posture. While we laid Heidi in the hole, Ian continued to watch Noah, and as the tears began to slide silently down his face, Ian moved to stand beside his friend, putting a small hand on his shoulder and squeezing quietly, while tears slid down his own small cheeks. He stayed next to Noah the entire time, watching him take a turn shoveling dirt into the grave, and only moving to leave when Noah was ready. At that point he walked alongside of him quietly, following his friends' lead as to what they would do next. There were no words exchanged between the two, just unspoken knowledge that he was not leaving, that he was hurting for him and with him.

I am amazed and full with the realization that my children have found friends and their own "people" to experience this life alongside of them. I realize that they are all still young and perhaps the friends will change over time, but for now they have abundance. I am amazed by the empathy and strength I saw in the faces and actions of these friends today, despite their ages or gender, they already possess qualities of character which are sometimes scarce in our world today.

At the end of the long day, I am thankful for these friends, and for mine as well, who called, texted, phoned and did not glaze over, and who stood alongside us when life was difficult and sad.

Top 20

I have been challenged with the task of creating a playlist of my top 20 favorite songs of all time by a friend. Initially I scoffed at the notion, thinking I would never be able to conjure up 20 faves. I didn't intend to compile a list. But as with many things I intend, I found myself succumbing to the idea of ferreting through my past, and began to look for songs that had struck chords with me over the years!

The first song I ever remember hearing on the radio came immediately to mind, as did all the sights, emotions, smells, and relationships attached to the memory. In the summer of 1974 I was 9 years old with a killer bright green polka dot cotton bikini with a little ruffle; my first. Camping and laying on the beach for hours on end with my family and close friends, we listened to CKLW out of Detroit and the song we cranked up was Billy Don't Be a Hero by Bo Donaldson. 7 girls on a beach singing into our blow pops like microphones and rocking our first two piece bathing suits! I can see every face on the beach that summer, and hear our laughter. Wildfire and Shannon were in our top 5 for that summer as well, and without fail, when I hear any of those songs today (which thankfully, is a rarity) I look back on those summer days with a smile and a bit of sadness for the friendships that have waned, and those lost forever.

While listening through songs, I have decided it would be prudent to sub-categorize my list. I could surely fill it with 20 songs from eras or phases of my life or even genres of music. It would come as no surprise to anyone who has known me long that "Taking Care of Business" by BTO is hands down my favorite dancing tune! Duh...how many pitchers of beer I won doing the alligator I will never be able to recount, nor get back the $l00 bucks I had to pay the DJ at my wedding to play it, even though my mom had given him a 50 not too!!! "Respect" by Aretha falls into the same category, and again a wedding memory burned into my minds eye as my brother-in- law Todd and I danced my pups right out of the cups in my dress!!! These songs are fun, but most of my list is more toned down, and make the top 20 because they hit close to my heart in how I live and want to live my life.

"Every little piece of the puzzle doesn't always fit...perfectly" Sara Evans
"Home should be where the heart is, never were words more true." Beauty and the Beast
"Look inside my heart, and be amazed." Bethany Dillon
"She needs wide open spaces, room to make big mistakes." Dixie Chicks

....lines from songs stick in my head and I find that it is small portions of a whole that hit close to home for whatever reason, and with that, the tune has made my top 20 list. Some lines and some songs leave me ragged and drained with emotion, and some still buoy me with hope and the Pollyanna outlook that generally umbrellas my life. The compilation is not yet over, but for today I am finished. This was a far more introspective endeavor than I anticipated, and I am full with memories and emotions and as I have moved through the years dredging up songs I have noticed a very clear pattern. Songs that have stayed with me, or moved me in some way have strong relationship memories attached to them, or speak of longing for relationship of some kind, some human, some with the God who created me to love him first and then others.

Mirror images

January 8th 2009....and February 24, 2011....777 days apart...but mirror images!

I started running again on both of these days. I don't remember how long I kept at it in '09, and I am not sure about this go round, but the similarities in the conversations in my head, that seem to happen more frequently on the treadmill than anywhere else is a bit unnerving to me. I don't remember the details of life 777 days ago, I barely remember last week, but today, in this span of time, my mental conversations are mostly with myself. I am not sure if that is good or bad, and there are more questions than directives or plans. Which currently, I think is gonna have to be ok.

Today I am wondering how I got here? To this place, to this person who I recognize sometimes, but other times, not so much. I am a little jaded about lots of things, a wee tad cynical in areas I never dreamed I would be, and at the middle of it....I wonder how much of that is because of my complacency and inaction in areas I need to be diligent and intentional. I guess I don't really wonder...today on the treadmill I knew...I answered that question...it's just the plan of action to change it that is a little sketchy at present.

Questions about Girls

Tonight Noah and I had some stolen time alone. It has been a really busy week filled with volleyball games, lacrosse games, practices for both sports, early am music rehearsals, appts., and general end of the year mayhem. Anyway...Noah and I came home while the girls all went to the Y, and quickly snuggled into bed to read a chapter or two of Harry Potter. After closing the book Noah said, "Mom, I have a few questions about girls OK?"

I will admit, there was a pit in my stomach...he's eight, but he has 4 sisters...and I tend to answer honestly, which usually backfires on me.

Question l. How come girls don't get pee on the seat when they go?
Answer: ahahhahahahh, snort, ahhaha, ummm, cuz usually they sit down. So no spraying.
Response: He nodded as if he agreed and it made sense.

Question 2. How come the girls always say they are fat, but they eat everything in the house, then get mad if you have the car and they can't go to the Y? (3 in 1 question)
Answer: (Desperately trying to school my features) I think its because of the media's influence on them, they feel like society only values thin women and girls, and they starve themselves all day, and then binge at night, because, honestly, they haven't had a ton of self control modeled for them! (just being honest here) And they go to the Y because that makes them feel better about eating everything in the house, plus I think they feel cool!
Response: "Mom, seriously, do you think I even know what the media is?"

Question 3. How come its funny if the girls call their private parts a "chooch" but if I call mine a "dick" its a naughty word?
Answer: (Laughing openly) I have no idea, it just is buddy.

Question 4. How come they get mad so easily, even when they seem happy?
Answer: Hormones and genetics, plus I think it makes them feel powerful.
Response: I think they are mean and stupid and they don't need anymore power, they already get the car!

Questions 5. Do you think they wish they had..you know...nuts?
Answer: I've never wished that, but I don't know about other girls, you should ask your sisters.

Question 6. Boys and girls both have nipples right? So how come girls have to cover theirs up?
Answer: You asked me this once before dude, are you just wanting to say nipples again?
Response: No, I still think its dumb, I think Olivia does too! (ahhahaah)

I realized after tucking this kid in that life with 4 sisters might be troubling and confusing at times. I love that he feels like he can ask anything, while at the same time I cringe at what he sees and knows and observes. I also cannot help laughing hard, and I am powerless to hide it. I am also praying that I don't mess him up, that growing up with 4 sisters and a mom won't make him some kind of freak.

For now, I think he might be a pretty normal 8 year old boy who pees all over the toilet seat, I think just to gross his sisters out!

The Tightrope is LIVING!!!!

Waiting. Currently, I'm having a difficult time with this verb; or action; or more accurately, this IN-action.

Over the past few days, I have become increasingly restless, emotional, and frustrated. Maybe I've written this before, I don't really know, its been so long since I've sat here, but anyway, here I am with this giant on my back, and I don't know how to shake it, or more importantly, why it weighs so heavily.

Until a few minutes ago that is. After a phone call where I was barely able to hold it together, I hung up and started to break into pieces. Even while it was happening though, I was struggling to understand why, why now, why so intensely is this waiting so hard? Why am I so frustrated by it? Why does it feel so familiar? That's where the truth revealed itself. The familiarity of the waiting. The things I'm waiting on, and waiting for are in large measure out of my control. I am ready to get on with life. I am ready to be doing whatever it is that I am designed to do, or just do SOMETHING. I'm tired of school, and the preparing to be productive. At this point in time, I could do any of the things I am wanting too with the skills and education I have now. I'm sick of the preparation. I just want to scream and get the hell on with life.

And, then there are the other parts of my life where I'm waiting. These areas I have even less control over, and my frustration is even keener. Tonight I realized that I spent a lot of years waiting for someone else's time table to be right. Trips were put on hold until after I wasn't nursing, and then put on hold longer in hopes that I might look better in a bathing suit(not my mandate), and that cycle continued for years....due to the five kids! Then there was waiting to host holidays until the house was perfect, or waiting to make time for others until Jupiter aligned with mars...waiting to connect until......you get the idea? I'm sick of waiting. I waited the first half of my life away, and there are lots of things I regret about that.

I'm tired of waiting. Waiting for the perfect timing, waiting for this person or that person, waiting for graduation....mine, kids.....there will always be something to wait for. But in the meantime, I want to LIVE! Fully, intentionally, and without waiting!

"The tightrope is living; everything else is just waiting!" ----Karl Wallenda

He said this about his life, about what he loved to do, which was first and foremost the acrobatic career he shared with his wife and family. Everything else was just waiting!

38 minutes.....HEAVEN AND HELL

The movie was titled "38 MINUTES OF TRAINS" . The title says it all. Some train junky got out his video camera and spent 2 DAYS in Lansing filming (without narrative mind you) 2 days worth of trains just driving along the east and west bound tracks. CSX's and CN's. I don't know what the frog CSX stands for but CN's are Canadian Nationals. At this point you may be asking yourself..."how does the laundress know this, and why?"

I live with a 7 year old train savant. I am not kidding you, the boy is totally focused on this one thing...anything else and he's like a cat with nip...all over the place...but show him trains, talk about trains...you name it he knows it. He freakishly morphs into a 73 year old railroad buff and starts using words that normal folks don't know, like gondolas, switch engines, sidings, loco's, diesels.... Today he went to a train show with his grandpa and dear old gramps picked up the treasured movie. So tonight when we got home the little would be savant engineer wanted to curl up in my bed, giddy with excitement, just the two of us watching his new movie. Insert here:(I fully recognize that I am selfish and had no interest or desire to watch 3 minutes of trains, let alone 38!)

I realized laying there watching his face beaming beside me on the pillow and listening to enthusiastic and knowledgeable narrative, that while I was thinking I was getting a small 38 minute glimpse of what hell might perhaps be like, this boy I love so dearly was experiencing 38 minutes of heaven. (Actually far more than 38 minutes, because he has already watched it 3 times and he wants to get up early to watch it again before school)

How different we are created. I realized tonight how blessed I am to be surrounded by such diversity of interest and lives. How self centered I can be at times only wanting to pursue and invest in the things that capture my interest. Thankfully tonight I was reminded that my 38 minutes in hell, were Noah's 38 minutes of heaven....and he wanted to share those minutes with me.

Missed Signal

I'm pretty sure I missed a signal today. An opportunity with someone who is dear to me. We don't talk often, usually in passing, a hug and cursory "how are you", but this is the second time in a week that I have been sought out. Last week I was driving in ice on horrible roads and our conversation was cut a little short, today, customers came in and I got busy.

Tonight I am convinced that my friend wasn't really checking on me. I dropped the ball. I didn't pick up on the vibe until a few moments ago, when the friend came back to my mind. Now I am praying (literally) that tomorrow whatever it was that needed saying or listening too today will not be too late.

I also wonder how often I miss opportunities or signals from people who just need to talk or who are hurting but can't put it into words. I pick up on a lot usually, but other times I am convinced that my own verbosity
and exuberance thunder over others quiet needs. I wonder too how often those things override the quiet voice of the One who loves me and I miss out on His direction and prodding. I am certain that happened today. And last week.

Tomorrow....well, actually even tonight, I am endeavoring to be still...and listen!

COMING HOME

For the past few months I have been longing for a good book. Something that I could lose myself in. A life separate from mine, yet somehow still connected to me. I haven't found a book...but alas...tonight...the longing was quenched.

JACK IS BACK!

The new season of 24 started tonight, and as Liv and I (and Savannah by phone) began watching with anticipation....I queerly realized that I felt like it was Thanksgiving or some other holiday, and long lost friends and family were all gathering again...reunited!

Disclaimer: I fully realize that this is a TV show. I fully realize that I might as well be 14 again watching Luke and Laura's wedding, or the Cassadines freeze Port Charles. I also fully realize that in this one wee small area...I am a damn pantie throwing groupie. For some, Rick Springfield brings this out, for others its artists like Tristan Prettyman or Joshua Radin. I fully admit, this is an indulgence and foray into a world not my own. AND I DON'T CARE!

For one hour every week (four this week, with the kick off nights) I can live in a stress free world of international terrorism and global war, with no one to save America from complete and utter destruction but Keifer Sutherland! BLISS!

So tonight, in the hours after the 2009 debut...I sit here relaxed and smiling...and think...welcome home old friend, welcome home!

In my head

Started running again today. Loved it. Hated it. Need it. I'm still trying to ascertain whether its a good thing for me mentally or not though. I tend to over think a few things sometimes, and then put me on a treadmill....and BLAMO! Things rush in and out.....and then I find myself having conversations in my head or writing emails in my mind....and then well, I get kinda ticky.

This is kinda how it went:
Walking, walking, 321...running....SIDESWIPE....thinking...conversation begins, blah, blah, blah....walking again...(lull in mental conversation) 321....SIDESWIPE...conversation picks back up, more heated, more determined, blah, blah, blah....back to walking.....321.....switch to email....typing, typing, typing...blah, blah, blah....

...and things continued like this for me the whole time I ran/walked.

I have two theories on this phenomenon...
l. This is totally healthy and normal and everyone does it, but they never talk about it.(Which in an of itself is neither normal or healthy)
2. No one does this ever and I'm a freak!

Anyway, now I'm home and my mind is mush, my legs are burning, and I am falling in love with my new best friend "the stick", which Penny sold me yesterday to use to "roll out my muscles" instead of stretching.....for $7.95 that little pup is a wee slice of heaven!

STARTING NOW

For the most part, I've never been a big New Years resolution maker. The whole idea seems kinda dumb to me, similar to the "new diet starts on Monday" mantra. In my mind, I have always just thought, hmm..if you want to do something, DO IT! Don't talk about it, put it off, procrastinate and set a point "sometime in the future" to begin. If it's something you want to pursue or attempt START NOW!

So tonight I have been thinking about some things. Things that I want to do "at some point in the future", but they require advanced planning, and maybe a wee bit of dedication and training, and that all important item.....CABBAGE! These items on my list will require some discipline on my part, both in the saving and carrying thru on the plans. These are not two of my strongest areas. Actually, in these areas I suck big time. (Hence my disdain for new years resolutions I'm certain). Anyway....here's my list.

l. Camp in Pentwater with kids for l WHOLE week without technology!
2. Run l 5k race.....possibly the Flushing Road race, but not necessarily.
3. Take RV trip with Barb and Bob and some teens to Cincinnati area..aka Kings Island, The Beach!
4. Take college girls to lunch or dinner at least once each during winter semester.
5. Take some kind of road trip with Fiona....(she's an amazing DJ and great in shot gun for long distances...also doesn't require expensive meals!
6. Get B+ in Spanish, and A's in all other classes.
7. Pass the Basic Skills Test.
8. Write more intentionally at least 3 times a week.
9. Take kids skiing at Nubs Nob with Dad.(which will require teaching Noah to ski)
10. Go to Sleeping Creeper Trail and bike it.
11. Stop rationalizing
12. Learn to ride a motorcycle.

That's it....for now...I think there will be more "places to go" that I want to add....and some that are just part of life....and maybe some more mountains to climb myself, but for now....this is my start. I'm planning and starting and setting these things in motion NOW!

The Search

One would think, ne, even assume, that in an abode that houses 4 girls, that a person could easily and readily lay hands on a PONY TAIL HOLDER!!!

But noooooooo. Not in this house. Not this person. Last night as I was quickly trying to sweep my 4 inches of overgrown gray and 4 inches of split fried ends into some semblance of a festive coife, I found myself in need of two pony tail holders.

I began my unhurried search in the bathroom drawers where such items are kept. NONE! Moving on, I searched all the girls dresser tops and ledges next to their beds. (This is a no brainer...they all take out their bands at night) NONE!
Next I moved on to the couch cushions. Everything gets dropped down there, and I have found several there in the past whilst cleaning. EMPTY! At this point I was getting a wee tad frantic, as my ride was coming shortly. I was also beginning to feel just the very tiniest bit of panic sweating beginning......not good with my freshly made-up mug! I rifled through back packs, old purses, junk drawers, and jewelry boxes! ZILCH, NOTHING...NADA! I began to miss the days of barbies and barbie cases, (whose very existence I cursed while that phase was here, and celebrated grandly when the last blond diva with too tiny shoes was gone)Barbies always had extra pony tail holders in their hair or being used to festoon their long ball gowns into skimpy club attire.

You know how it is when you can't find something that you want. How somewhere during the hunt it suddenly becomes a life necessity right up there with food, water and shelter? This is where my need for the afore mentioned hair ties had transitioned.

In a last ditch effort before I moved on to plan B, which may have included kitchen shears and a bowl, I went into the lone boys room. I dumped out his ginormous bucket of trains....and frantically sifted through the rubble.

In a house with 4 teenage girls, I find it curious that the place I scavenged up not one, but TWO pony tail holders, was the 7 year old boys room. The seven year old boy with a BUZZ CUT no less! You see, this estrogen overpowered kid is the McGyver of trains. While trying to load logs and steal on flat beds, he was having difficulty keeping his stacked product on the cars. He needed "ratcheted tie downs." to hold his loads. His mother told him they didn't make them for wooden toy trains, and he would have to just put fewer logs (crayons) on so that they would stay. NOPE! I remember the day he took me by the hand to show me his solution. "See those loads mom?" he said. "Ponytailers work just like bungees...now I'm all set to go eastbound to Chicago."

And now I'm all set to step out for the night.

The concert

I have been looking forward to this concert for weeks. It has become a tradition in our family, as we have choralaries in our midst. This season kick off concert is comprised of The Band, The Orchestra, and the all of The Choirs. Mingled together with ensembles, trios, duets and solos, the evening NEVER FAILS to set the mood for Christmas week for me.

This year the evening opened with an orchestra medley of sacred caroles. I was over the edge with "O Come, O Come Emmanuel". I was able to regain a modicum of composure for the next three or four numbers, but alas...The Drumline. Caught me totally by surprise. The auditorium was surrounded by 20 or so percussionists, snares, basses, xylaphones, and a myriad of others I can't name. The hair on my arms (and yes I admit, my legs as well) was standing on end. It was absolutely incredible, and I was an emotional mess. Savannah, sitting next to me, texted me, and called a DQ while she was laughing. My dad sitting on the end of the row had his hankie out. I'm afraid I may need to start bringing my own to such events.

Pushing me over the edge was Fiona's solo. She came out on the main floor, center, with a 40's style mic in front of her, and slowly and confidently began singing The Christmas Song. It was over the top. I have heard her sing often (duh, as we live in the same house) but this was amazing, and more chilling than the drum line....when she sang the last line ...merry Christmas tooo youu...she was looking right at me. I don't know if it was intentional, but it effectively pushed me over the edge. I am so incredibly proud of her. She has an amazing voice, effortless for her to sing anything.

The concert finished, and after coming home and winding down, I laid in bed thinking about how I have gotten caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season, and have not taken much time to slow down and just live and soak in the season. To be the season to the people around me.

Today I'm in. There is a huge blizzard, a snow day.....and the weekend and week ahead stretches before me with lots of time available to remember why we celebrate this time of year.

O Come, O Come Emmanuel....and Merry Christmas too you!

Cookie Baking

To fully capture this event, I would need some kind of podcast...because much of the atmosphere was created with sound...or din, whatever it is that includes talking over top of each other, singing together and outsinging each other....and laughing, at and with....the perfect combination. The slotted event was cookie making....with friends and food...and way too much estrogen for some people! ( I think this may be why Noah has taken to wearing his Comander Cody costume 24/7). The finished products were works of art, even with the vomit colored icing for the ginger cookies!


While nibbling on the finished products, and yes I said "products" plural, I discovered that all in all, the day was good. There was a moment or two though, I must admit, where I was standing there in the kitchen thinking....in the middle of all that life is right now, how is it that we can still find joy, that we can still laugh, that friendships can remain, when everything else leaves? I don't know how, and maybe I never will, but I am enormously thankful, because without the joy, there would be no hope, without the laughter there would be nothing but tears (or yelling and screaming), and without great friendships, life would be empty.

From Fat Albert, and JIm...to the dwarves cottage

To fully understand the magnitude of the tree debacle, it is necessary to post a shot of last years tree, affectionately known to us as "Fat Albert." We are big tree folk. Actually this final product of FA is a much trimmer version, produced after much pruning and trimming to get him into the corner and to keep the boughs a safe(ish) distance from the dangerously drying flames of the gas log. Anyhoo...as my earlier post stated, we had quite a day procuring this lovely tree, seen below being shortened up a bit, as we had overestimated the height and were about 2 feet too tall for our room. Fiona, the master of the saw, buzzed almost effortlessly through the trunk, cutting 21 inches off. Anyway....after getting him (Jim Murchie) down to a manageable height, Olivia and I hauled him into the house to his place of honor.

While Olivia was single-mindedly fastening the "Best Christmas Tree Stand Ever" to Jim's trunk, the rest of us waited expectantly for Jim to rise to his place of honor....wringing our hands wondering how much additional trimming would need to be done to nestle him into his spot.....

We took a quick break to enjoy a few snacks...we were all tired from the whole ordeal of sawing and stand positioning....and of course the hunger that mounts from all that gleeful anticipation....

.....and then....this! Imagine our surprise...and yes, I will admit, great disappointment when we realized that instead of a behemoth, we had misnamed our poor tree. In fact, our tree would be a perfect little addition to the seven dwarfs cottage. It looks like our tree from last year went to the Bariatric Center and joined the Y! And also had a vertebrae or two taken out....he has been renamed...Matt Roloff! It's so short we even had room on top this year for Santa...(a battle I lost..along with colored lights). The silver lining here is, we can sit in the chair and not get sap on our arms while watching Christmas movies! Joyeux Noel!

O''Tannenbaum

Today we set out on our yearly quest for the family tree. This year it was just Fiona, Elsa and I. It was bitter cold here today...snowy and beautiful...but BITTER COLD!

Usually we cut our tree on a huge 900 acre farm.

This year, we drove by a lot near my parents house that had some lovely trees. And by lovely, I mean, it would be lovely to not trek out in the BITTER COLD to hunt for a tree. We just popped out of the car, the men working the lot pulled the trees off of the ropes, stamped the snow off of them, and we mulled and pondered. It took about 10 minutes. Not including the time it took for the K of C guys to tie the bad boy to the roof of our car. (And I use the word "tie" loosely")

On the way home, Fiona's job was to "watch the tree". While I looked in the rear view mirror and watched cars swerve off the road anticipating my tree torpedoing thru their windshields. The thing seemed to have ADHD up there. It rolled to the left, right, front, back...you name it....but it stayed on.

Once home, I came in and laid down on the couch and promptly fell asleep. (what can I say except that the drive was harrowing) Eventually though, I ventured out to unlash it. After cutting the twine, I turned the stump end so that I could slide the bad boy over the edge of the van.....BIG MISTAKE...HUGE! I was nearly gored as the beast slid of its own volition off the roof of my van.

After all of that...I was unable to drag Jim, (that's what I have named the tree, Jim Murchie, after a behemoth of a man whom the tree looks amazingly like) into the house. He's well over 8 ft...actually more like 10...funny how they look so short and trim in the out of doors, and soooo much larger in the confines or your garage or home! (not Jim the man, but Jim the tree) Anyhooo....stay tuned...tomorrow will see Jim snugly in his spot of honor by the fireplace...decorated and twinkling Christmas cheer into our home...I cannot wait!

Over thinking, over feeling...and other musings

Emotionally, I am all over the map today. I got up early and said good-bye to the person I never want to say good-bye too, and as he drove out of the driveway, I turned around and ran back to bed. To avoid breaking down, to avoid feeling what i didn't want to feel right then. Fortunately, he called me at 9:45 and woke me up again so I could jump out of bed and get ready to go to church.(He just didn't know he was waking me up!)

On the way I started to think about all that has changed over the last few years. The friends that have come and gone...the mountain tops and the valleys that have been climbed and crossed. Walking in alone, I started to feel incredibly sad. For a number of reasons, my kids hate coming to this place that they once loved being a part of. They are now more inclined to worship across town with their dad and his brother and their cousins. (Not really sure how I feel about that...well, actually I do know, I'm just being respectful and not saying) For reasons of my own making, I am not feeling as connected with the people here in this place these days either, and that made me sad. I chose to sit alone, not for lack of acquaintances or a couple of friends, but I just didn't have it in me this morning to put on a face. I sat and as the music began, I could not stop crying...I couldn't sing....I just sat and prayed....for my kids, myself, for all of those I wished were still there and aren't and for my heart....which somehow has become a little hard and brackish.

Throughout the service and the rest of the day, I have been seeking clarity in my vision, in my purpose. Somehow I find myself in a place where I don't even recognize who I am anymore. In some ways I have drifted so far from who I was and who I want to be that I wonder if I will ever get back to her. Maybe getting back to her isn't what God wants for me either. Maybe, possibly, if I am willing to put myself back into His hands, maybe He will help me to be something better, or at the very least different in a good way. Because after talking to a friend today, we both agreed, we have to be forward thinking....even if looking back makes us smile. Those days, and the people we were, the person I was, are long gone now.

At the end of today, the thing I have come to as being the most pertinent is this.....I don't want to continue along the path that I am currently on. I want to be more like who I was, only better, wiser for where I have been in the meantime......and for tonight I still need to weep....because the journey to that person seems incredibly difficult.

Sometimes I pretend

Things happen for a reason. You just need to "find your place with it and figure our where to file it." Words I have heard often, (and often laugh about) from a dear friend.

I'm not sure I believe the first part....sometimes I think stuff just happens. Not exactly randomly, but just....cause/effect...handwriting on the wall....or just plain HAPPENS. Sometimes it is in our grasp to understand, sometimes not. Sometimes and some things I don't always want to "find my place with" let alone "figure out how or where to file it." Sometimes I want to pretend that life is perfect and there just isn't any "stuff."

Tonight I'm pretending lots of things. Like for instance, that there are not 5 loads of clean laundry waiting to be folded. I'm pretending that Alice just ran to the market and will be home soon to fold it all. I'm pretending that the person I love most will be here soon, (like tonight soon, not next week soon) and we will have homemade chicken soup and crusty rolls together. I'm pretending that my BFF is just down the road and that if I need her or if she needs me, that either one of us can be fully present together in under 2 minutes! I'm pretending that I don't have kids at a movie theatre and that I will not have to leave my house and go out into the rain and cold in 2 hours to pick them up. (on that one I'm actually pretending that they are still too young to be dropped off to see a movie alone with 3 friends...and BOYS!)

Tonight I'm pretending and not "filing" or "finding my place."

Tonight I'm just trying to get through it.

175th Anniversary

Yesterday was the 175th anniversary of the church that I grew up in. This was a big deal, especially for my parents, who are Presbyterians of a sort that are not often seen. Fully dedicated to the local church....fully and completely sold out to Jesus example of being servants.

Over the years, I have been known to scoff at my Presbyterian heritage....my "religious" and "spiritual" training was dubious at best. I of course, in hindsight, take much of the responsibility for being, at the time, somewhat unteachable...if not out and out belligerently opposed to all manner of instruction. Yesterday, sitting in the place where I spent every Sunday from the time I was in 2nd grade until I graduated, I realized that there were some foundational things that actually did permeate into my heart, mind, and soul...way back then.

Sitting in the padded pews before the service started, I spent some time just looking...taking in the visuals. Stained glass windows of a sort that I am certain are no longer produced, with sunlight streaming in, creating the warm lighting that welcomes all who are illuminated by it. Tipping my head back, I marveled at the ornate painting which outlined the coved ceiling, it is bordered by slightly ornate wood, not exactly baroque, yet not gothic either. It was all warm and familiar, and as the new reverend began to talk to all who were gathered there, many like myself, not "regular attenders" any longer, he asked us to take a moment to reflect on the memories we had of this place.

At this point I was nothing, if not slightly uncomfortable, realizing that many of my fond memories, if brought fully into the light, might bring down lightening and fire from on high. I was thinking to myself, "if he only knew", and then felt a head turn and look back to my right...when I looked over, my eyes, and memories were locked in sync with someone who, all those years ago, was very much a central figure in those memories, and somehow knowing I wasn't alone in my reverie (however irreverent) made me smile. Broadly.

Not at the memories, or even the shared connection, but mostly for how God has chosen to work in my heart despite my choices. I smiled then and even now, in gratitude to my parents for the experience of it all.....if it were not for that, I don't believe that I would have ever known Jesus when I finally was able to hear him and see him in others.

I had forgotten what a pipe organ sounds like, fully throttled up, and being played heartily. I had forgotten what it sounds like when 300+ voices sing the doxology and the gloria. I had forgotten that I knew "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing", or that in the last verse there is a key change and a big ending. I forgot what it sounded like to hear 70 something sopranos singing the descant parts. (who am I kidding, I forgot what 70 somethings sound like singing period.) I had forgotten too, what it felt like to be sitting in a pew with my parents and family, feeling the pew shake when things start getting "dusty" for my dad, and how he looks when he presses his neatly folded hankie to his eyes in hopes that no one notices his emotions!

I sat there hoping no one noticed mine.

SHADY

Noah: Mom, what does "shady" mean?

Me: What do you think it means buddy?

Noah: Dad says you're shady....because you don't do things that you should. I know what that means. You stay in bed and don't fix your small children breakfast.

Me: ahhahahahahahha....well, that's not exactly shady, just lazy...and I'm trying to teach you patience and responsibility. AHAHAHHAHHAHAH.

Noah: Dad said you're shady because you laugh at God. But I told him you laugh at everybody.

Me: That's true, I do laugh alot...but not at people.....and definitely not at God. I prefer to think of all the stuff I laugh about as laughing with people...even God I think. What do you think?

Noah: Well, you're still in bed...and I'm not laughing....and I'm hungry...so I just think you're being shady again!

Me: AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA

Dreamers

Dreamers. There are two types I think.

There are those people who dream about goals and achievements. These can be financial goals, physical goals, career goals, status goals. Mostly these goals and dreams are in some way physically tangible. There can be a sense of checking off the list and moving on to the next one.

Then there are those people whose dreams are based more relationally. I have heard these people described as "Utopian" thinkers and dreamers. These people do not have goals so much as visions of how things, mostly relationships, will be or could/should look. They don't have to be personal relationships, but lots of times about how people engage with one another and live in community together. They can be personal too. These dreamers cannot usually check things off a list.

I have great admiration and respect for the first group of dreamers. I love the idea of attaining something that I have worked hard for....or finishing something that I have started. For the most part, I never have. (That's a thought for a different day)

I fall into the second category. Recently, I believe a dear friend kindly referred to my thinking and dreaming as delusional. Oddly, I wasn't offended. The friend was right. Lots of the delusional dreams that I have in respect to relationships, both personal and on larger scale, will never play out the way I see them in my head and feel them in my heart. This, I have come to realize, is because Utopian dreams, as they relate to people, take far more effort emotionally than lots of people are willing to invest. They also require mammoth proportions of blind faith and gut instinct, and in today's world, most of us need tangible evidence and guarantees and mapped out plans, before we hang ourselves out there emotionally or personally.

I'm not sure why I feel like I need to write about this today....I am not making a comparison between the two types of dreamers as a judgement in any way. It is just a reminder for me I suppose, that while the kinds of dreams that I can push for and believe in, are not always going to play out neatly. The kinds of delusional dreams I have going on depend in large part on others with similar delusions buying in....and risking.

I guess I am comparing the two in some way. Because I am also sitting here wishing I had a list today with some things I could check off, or write off...and try as I might...I can't conjure one up. Well, that's not totally true either...I can conjure it...(with a little eye of newt, and old hag's cackle) but I can't check the things (or people) off.

Here in the aftermath....

There are not many days in this life when we are allowed the privilege to experience (whether we want to or not), every emotion, flashback memory, or glimpse into the future that our limited human forms are capable of experiencing.

Move in day for your first child in college is one of those days.

Today was my day to experience it. Actually not just mine, it was our whole family's day to experience. All of us. Seven. Even though we don't live as a family of seven now, for this brief time, there was respite from the drama that divorce and all of its ugliness brings, and we moved Princess into college together. I say together, but actually, Noah and Elsa said their good-byes yesterday...so today it was just Princess (Thing one), Fiona, Olivia and Mark and I. Plus two car loads of "stuff", college necessities and the like. Of course it was us and about 500 other students and parents with dollies and flatbeds and futons and mini-fridges and long lines and one incredibly slow moving elevator!
But that's a side issue.

What I feel compelled to say now is how it felt. How surreal it all seemed to me, and I think to everyone else too. It started last night for me when her two best friends came home from their respective colleges for the weekend and spent the night here playing board games, laughing too loud and talking about incredibly inappropriate things. I wanted so badly to sit at the table and counter with them...to laugh and feed them...but every time I tried to come downstairs I was overcome with emotion. I couldn't hold it back, and since they are ruthless, I was certain I would be harassed mercilessly by them. (They have learned the fine art of that from me, hence my certainty). So instead I laid in bed listening, laughing, and crying....and remembering lots of other nights like it. Then this morning we were up and showering and everything was in the living room....I felt like I should be making a big breakfast, some kind of grand gesture send off...but I also felt totally paralyzed to mark this as an occasion. (Some might call this DENIAL). Instead we waited for Mark to arrive to pick up some of the gear, and we loaded up the cars and drove south. I rode with Princess. Even the task of driving seemed daunting to me. I just wanted to soak up the journey. I wanted to have a meaningful conversation, to say things that she would remember and cherish. I wanted to tell her how proud I am of her and how much I love her. How excited I am for her, and how much I will miss her.

I didn't. Every time I started to formulate the words, they just stuck. In my throat and in my mind. I need more time. That was something I kept thinking today. I need more time to teach her, to help her, to invest in her. But the time is up. The hourglass is empty on that one.

I am left to wonder if I said enough. If I taught her the right things. If she will make good choices because she will remember how to evaluate situations. I wonder if she will remember Who loves her more than we do, and that He is with her always. I wonder if she will miss life here, even though she will be loving the life of freedom somewhere else. (And even if she does, I pray she won't want to move back).

The actual leaving was difficult. She told us we could go..that she would be ok to finish up....and then we each had to say good bye. Each of us had to hug her, and one by one we all crumbled. The four of us leaving and walking away, even though every step seemed wrong...Olivia described it best. She said " I feel like we just left a puppy in a box by the side of the road and drove off." At our cars, Mark reminded me that this is what we have been working for from the time she was born. That we have prepared her the best that we can....and that this is how it is supposed to be....even though it doesn't feel like it. (This is hard for me to admit, but I know he is right!) lol.....

Sitting here tonight with Fiona and Olivia...and the letters that princess left for each one of us on our beds....well, its hard. Really hard. Now is the time I truly have to let her go, to trust that He is there with her, and also here with us. Here in the aftermath of college move in day.

From the trail

So I found myself again on the trail today..taking a much needed walk to just be still and listen. To be away from the things pressing in and the endless list of things to do was a welcome respite. In the quiet I realized a few things, in no particular order.

l. Lots of people don't pick up their dog poop...and I would like to rub their noses in it.
2. Just when we think we are alone, God sends the perfect friend to do another 3 miles.
3. Old people still fall in love.
4. Some people think smoking weed and riding their bike is excercise.
5. God is always there, but sometimes I get soo busy, I don't listen or talk to Him.
6. If your toe feels like its being rubbed raw in your shoe...IT IS!
7. When things are quiet in the woods, a woodpecker can sound like a damn serial killer!
8. I don't get out into nature enough!
9. Time alone to think and pray and listen and just be, is probably one of the most important things ever.
10. It would be nice to walk the trail with the person I love.

Vacation Letdown

I am feeling a wee bit blue tonight. After the BFF asked, I realized that much of my emotion is post awesome vacation let down. Then I realized that I hadn't really relived the vacation like I normally do. Perusing pics, laughing at the days events, feeling it all over again. Isn't that what great vacations make you do...want to re-live them...and possibly not ever leave them?

Looking through the pics I laughed hard at the memory of Noah mouwing through the salt and vinegar chips while his sisters slept unaware. (I didn't realized that my headphones could double as a "headgear" in the event he ever needs one). Elsa spent much of the week practicing the fine art of barrel walking....and Olivia practiced being a constant 'big foot" sighting in every ones pics!
One of the highlights of the week for my kids at least, was the rock jumping. They had no fear..which is scary...and I was lucky enough to get a shot of the oldest and youngest jumpers of the day launching off together! (Kevin and 5 year old Noah). We did all kinds of new stuff for Michigan folk...river swimming, trail hiking, train track walking...complete with killer bee swarm and sting fest for Noah and I....but I got a great shot of the tracks...that's what counts! It was so fun and relaxing just to hang out at Kevin's with the kids, talking and playing in the yard and jumping bikes in the driveway. I was fortunate to capture a rare photo of Captain Underpants as well...oddly, he looks strangely like Kevin's son Sean! It was a great week that flew by all too fast. I wish we were all cramming into a living room tonight to watch a great movie together with brownies and ice cream and ALL the toppings! Now that I really think about it, my BFF was totally right. I am feeling a lot of vacation let down....mixed with a little bit of wishful thinking about life being very different....and filled with lots more pictures like the one below!

SERVICE ENGINE SOON

SERVICE ENGINE SOON----now there are three words you don't want showing up on your dash on the tail end of a week-long family vacation! But alas, yesterday, they did show up on mine...along with a revving noise and temperature gauge rising fast, in the middle of BFE Ohio, Beaverdam to be exact. Nothing there except a couple of truck stops and a whole lot of corn!

The kids and I coasted into the T/A Truck Stop( and honestly, T/A? could they not think of something a little less idk, suggestive?)...popped the hood, and then I proceeded to check dipsticks and fluid levels, trying to ascertain what exactly was up. A cursory inspection turned up nothing suspicious....at least to my untrained eye...(seriously, what the heck did I think I was gonna do if I actually did find something wrong...I certainly couldn't drop down and "weld" anything). While talking on the phone to my personal "car expert", a behemoth of a truck driver ambled up and stood quietly by until he could offer his services. Turns out he noticed my Michigan sweatshirt and actually lives only about 15 miles from me...he diagnosed some transmission issues with a quick look at the fluid color...(brown when it should be bright red), and found me a service station on his GPS. All the while, we talked about his truck driving career...which he started 5 years ago after a young woman broke his giant heart. He thought, wrongly, that driving a truck would help him forget how much he loved this woman. He didn't plan for the endless hours alone to think and rethink every aspect of the relationship, and the lonely days with little or no companionship at all. I didn't have much to say about all of that....except that you can't run from how you feel, and even when you want to change it, sometimes you can't.

Then I was off to the service garage...which didn't service anything but "big rigs". I thought my full mini-van should qualify...but nnooooo! The mammoth bald, tattooed skin head behind the counter did offer to call a couple of locals for me. Both of them were "just on their way to Sunday night church, but they would be glad to stop out in a couple of hours, after prayer meeting." The guy behind the counter snorted and kinda scoffed at that. He mused a little under his breath something about that being the thing about "those christian religious people" that didn't seem quite right. To his way of thinkin, helping someone with a need was what "those people" were "supposed" to do, isn't it? I treated the question as rhetorical.....but shoved off on my way, since apparently Jesus wasn't gonna drop by and turn my brown transmission fluid into wine anytime soon.

I made it home. But on the way, I thought alot about those two conversations. The first man was trucking because he was running from the pain someone else had inflicted, and he ended up more lonely than before, because he finds himself totally isolated and alone. The other guy doesn't claim to be a "religious" person, but seemed to understand what Jesus was about more than the folks on their way to Sunday night service. It made me think again about how He created us to be really....in relationship with Him and other people...to help other people along their journey when they need it...to just plain journey together with other people, some that we are closely intimate with and some who may just cross our paths occasionally. I found myself hoping and praying for more opportunities to just share life, and for the ability to discern the difference between "Sunday night church" activities and living the life He wants for me. The whole thing has made me think about how much my own engine needs servicing.....personally speaking.....all in all, my little car trouble is turning out to be a good thing for my heart....which has started to need some overhauling these days too!

Trust...Confidence..and Assurance

Trust.

Implies instinctive unquestioning belief in and reliance upon something.

Confidence.

Implies conscious trust because of good reasons, definite evidence, or past experience.

Assurance.

Implies absolute confidence and certainty.

Curious how these three words are intertwined...and in many ways build upon each other or reinforce each other...either in a positive way, or when they are lacking, negatively.

I wonder sometimes if life and its circumstances lump events together to test our beliefs or abilities to hold fast to mindsets or convictions, or if these things happen in clumps just randomly and without purpose. Possibly, it is that when I am evaluating or questioning my own judgement that everything seems to fall under the same umbrella of stupidity.

Being naturally wired to trust without question, to rely on people, things or circumstances with confidence, assurity.....I often find myself in the middle of the negative repercussions that happen when those things are ill placed or ill deserved.

I am finding more and more that I am viewing people and situations with a little more cynicism, skepticism and lack of faith. Questioning my own instincts is becoming second nature to me....and to be completely honest....I CANNOT STAND ANY OF IT!

I long to be able to trust people and situations to do and say what they say they are doing or will do. I long to be able to believe in and rely on guidelines and protocols to protect and provide in the ways that they should. I long for the day when doubt and uncertainty do not enter my mind.

And I am reminded that my only certainty is in the One who created me. My assurance comes only from Him and rests in Him. In this world, there will be uncertainty, that people and things and systems will falter and do not deserve my unwavering trust.

....still....I hope and long for utopia...at least my utopia!

Unexpected grace

There are sometimes moments, or pauses in the everydayness of life, when I am confronted with a memory or an emotion that I didn't realized I had or felt. Which kinda doesn't make sense...but last night/today I was awash with just such a moment.

After a harrowing few days of worry, driving, praying and hospital sitting....I found myself home at last with my oldest daughter....healing from an abscess on her tonsil which landed her in the hospital for a couple of days. Driving to the drug store to pick up her prescriptions, I was blindsided by a song, which for some reason unleashed the floodgates of all the emotions that I had desperately been trying to stuff inside for the last few days.

More than the release of tension from this event came out though. I found myself thinking of her, my oldest, and how blessed I am to have her...(and the other 4 as well). I remembered vividly a time before she was born, when I believed that I would likely never have children. Because of a series of bad choices I made when I was younger (understatement), I had come to believe that God's consequence for my actions would certainly be to withhold a family from me. I believed this, and actually had accepted it without anger or bitterness....I believed, like many others sometimes do, that I would get what I deserved.

Then I found myself pregnant with Savannah....during the whole thing, I waited for something to happen. Something bad. And it never did. During my pregnancy...one day alone in our apartment, I was reading about God and his forgiveness, grace...and a quote from a teacher about His grace being a free gift that we don't deserve or ask for...unmerited favor! In that moment I knew that I wanted this grace...I wanted to believe in it, to believe that God wanted me to have it....from Him...a gift. I knew in that moment Who I would follow my whole life....and that He had already extended His grace, in the child that He had created inside of me. That was my first glimpse of His grace....and today....in the car the choices that I had made so long ago came flooding back over me....along with the very real knowledge that He had extended grace despite them. I don't often look back with regret or remorse....but today I experienced sorrow and a sense of loss for a child that I never had....and huge joy, to be here in this moment with the 5 that came later.

Sometimes it is easy for me to forget and get caught up in the busyness of life and single parenting.....and feel overwhelmed by the responsibility and just straight up hard work of it! Sometimes it is easy for me to forget and get caught up in the everydayness of life and I forget Who is guiding mine. Fortunately on days like today, He gently reminds me exactly how much He has loved me, and how much He always will. He reminds me of how huge and endless His grace is.....and that He extends it freely....especially when we don't deserve it!