Daydreaming

I'm going to warn you now.  This is a bit weird.  I can admit it.  I'm not afraid.

I'm sitting at church working on a few last minute things before our meeting about small groups and I'm daydreaming...about my label maker.  I seriously just "woke up" from a happy little dream with a smile on my face.  I may be the only one, but I have a constant To Do list running in my head. It's like a program that runs in the background of whatever else I'm doing. And it keeps growing - new things pile on top of things I was going to do but didn't complete before the last refresh. (You know...when you start a clean page so it feels totally new but really you just transfer over all the stuff not marked off from last week...) Anyway. On that list is my shoes. My shoes are arranged in individual plastic containers, arranged by color and style.  (I have never been silent about my OCD tendencies.)  I have been planning to label each container but haven't yet done it.

In my daydream, they were all perfectly labeled and my closet was sparkly clean (not a Dr. Seuss book or Strawberry Shortcake in sight).

It was beautiful.

So pretty.

(In my defense, I said it was weird.  Don't say I didn't warn you.)

Fashion Show: Two-Year-Old Style

I love clothes.  They tell so much about a person - how confident he is, what kind of day she's having.  They can make you feel more pretty, more comfortable or more fun.

For kids, clothes are equally as creative and fun; they just don’t know why yet.  If you have ever passed an embarrassed mom in the grocery store followed by a 4-year-old in rain boots, a ballet tutu, baseball cap and a cape, you’ve seen fun at its best.  Although I prefer a more put-together look, my child falls in this girls-just-want-to-have-fun category.  I say this because today has been the Brynna Grace Fashion Show.  (sorry I don’t have more pictures to share)

We started the day in Minnie Mouse pajamas.  When it was time to take off the pull-up and put on panties, the first compromise of the day occurred.  After negotiations, we headed downstairs with footie pajamas crammed into snow boots.

After breakfast and a few good laps around the house, the pajamas were getting warm, so the boots and jammies came off.  The next hour was spent in nothing but Foofa panties.

Since it’s 30 degrees in DC, I thought it may be a good parenting move to make her put some clothes on, so we went back upstairs for the day’s second negotiation proceedings.  This time, I count as a win for me.  We settled on a white t-shirt and black pants with a leopard, fur-lined tiara on the butt.  (Thanks, Uncle Bub and Liz!)

Halfway through Princess and the Frog, my little princess decided she needed pretty shoes like the movie.  (They don’t call her mini-me for nothing!)  She was gone for a bit only to reappear in patent red Mary Janes, singing, “Mommy, I’m pretty!”

We’re now on costume change 4 of the day.  After going up to her bedroom for a book, Brynna just came downstairs in new panties, no pants, the same white t-shirt (because she can’t get shirts off yet) and silver sandals.  The sandals are hard-soled, so she’s currently performing a pantless tap number in my kitchen.

I’ll keep teaching her lessons along the way.  I’ll take a few dozen trips to the grocery store like that mom with the kid in the rain boots.  I’ll even argue with a teen-aged Brynna one day over what’s cool and what’s appropriate.  But today, I’m just enjoying the show.

Not-so-Healthy Sleep Habits

My best friend Brandy recently read and started using the Healthy Sleep Habits approach to getting her little one, Hannah, on a regular sleep pattern.  She said that in the first day she can see huge changes.  It made me wonder...maybe they should write a similar book for adults.  We spend so much time reading, researching, talking and worrying about ways to do what's best for our kids but we totally disregard the advice when it comes to us.  Or maybe it's just me...

When David travels, something inside me happens.  It's like a switch gets flipped and in an instant, I'm convinced I'm a 19-year-old college student.  I make plans like there are 37 hours in a day, stay up late doing who-knows-what and eat like I have metabolism to spare.  By the time he comes home, I'm exhausted.  This week was no different.  I was up late one night catching up on past episodes of Bones, when I finally forced myself to shut the laptop and try to sleep.  Problem was, I couldn't sleep.  Apparently I'm not the only one in my neighborhood who thinks we're in college.  I could hear my next-door-neighbor's TV, music, video game or something.  I couldn't tell what it was, but I knew I didn't like it.  At first it was annoying.  Then I realized it could wake Brynna and I was mad.  So what did I do?  Yes.  At 2am, I marched my 105 lbs. out into the cold to bang on the door of a grown man about 4 times my size.  I'm not saying it was smart.  But seriously.  "You wake her, you take her" - that's my philosophy.  It took about 12 times of alternating knocking, banging and ringing the bell, but I finally got him to answer the door and he turned it down.  What was it, you ask?  Jersey Shore.  Because you need to listen to that so loudly the walls shake.  You don't want to risk missing a single word of that.  I know what else you're wondering and no, there was no apology.  Even the drunk kids across the hall at OU could slur out a "sorrrry."  But, I digress.

Point is, I didn't go to bed before 2am most nights this week and now, at 9pm on Saturday, it has all caught up to me.  I'm so tired.  After a fun evening with friends, I am ready to call it a night before prime time television ends.  I've gone from college to the nursing home!

I recognize the error of my ways.  I know these are not healthy sleep habits and I'm not a healthy child.  I can't guarantee it won't happen again, but I do know this...I'm about to put on some pajamas and get comfy before My Super Sweet Sixteen starts next door.

Love & New Beginnings

Love.  New beginning.

I’m in this strange place in life where these two concepts are at odds with one another.  Love is when someone knows everything about you – even the ugly parts with no mascara – and they give you freedom to be that person.  Love is learning who you are in your most secret places and being honest enough to let another truly know you.  Love takes time.   To begin anew seems the polar opposite of love.  Beginnings are fresh palettes, clean slates.  Beginnings are a look forward.  Love is the result of history.

I am standing in that place between.  Between looking back and facing forward.  Between Dallas and DC.  I guess that leaves me somewhere around Tennessee. 

But here’s my epiphany of the day…Love would be sad if we only ever looked back and beginnings would never occur if we didn’t have the courage to do something new.  Newness added to love is what makes it amazing.  Love is what fuels the faith to begin.

New beginning are possible only because of Love. 

General Motions I'd Like to Make

Motion: a formal proposal

In official proceedings, suggestions are made by members making a motion and others passing or opposing.  I have a few motions to suggest. 

I move that you have to renew your driver’s license every 5 years.  While it will be annoying for some of us, it will pay off in the long run when those who shouldn’t be behind a steering wheel are removed from play.

I move that you have to take – AND PASS – a test before procreating.  Some people just shouldn’t be allowed to be parents.

I move that shopping malls and retail stores be open until 10pm.  I know this means extra work for some and for that, I apologize.  But putting little people to bed cuts into prime time.

I move that we abolish time zones.  I honestly don’t know what effects that would have socially, economically or meteorologically but it’d help me when dialing overseas.

I move that the price of a movie ticket include a complimentary blanket.  If it’s going to be that cold in there, I need a Snuggie.

I move that the marriage covenant actually be binding as it was designed. 

I move that sick days and personal time be an official part of the stay-at-home mom job posting.  We don’t have to get crazy.  I’m talking 10 days out of 365.  (Who am I kidding?  I’d take 1 day.)

I move that Dr. Pepper be as readily available as Coke.  No, root beer does not suffice as a substitute.

I move that beanie babies (an other such nonsense) be disallowed from automobile back windows.

I move that mall play areas work like church nursery.  I’ll take a number, you ensure my little one is safe and I’ll be at Nordstrom.

All those in favor say “aye.” 

Testing...1...2...3

Today has been a test.  I knew when we started that it was going to be one of those days when Brynna pushes me extra hard.  She’s tired and she misses her daddy.  Even more than usual, she needs to know she can trust who’s in charge.

We are not so different than my strong-willed girl, you know.  On the days we are tired, hungry, lonely or angry, we try God more.  We give him the stiff arm.  We question Him, blame Him and ignore Him.  Instead of running to Him, our adversity often makes us pull away from Him.

Although they exhaust me, I welcome these days.  I trust that on these days even more than the rest, Brynna knows I love her.  When I don’t let her get away with disobedience, I am assuring her that I’ve got her.  When I enforce the rules, I teach her that some things are absolute.  When I discipline her, I show her that even in the hard times, I am strong enough for her to lean on.  I won’t get too tired, too far away or too anything not to be her source of safety.

It must break God’s heart when we hurt and instead of pouring out our pain and letting Him comfort us, we turn into a corner alone.  We go to friends and lament our situation instead of going to the One who can CHANGE our situation.  It’s the bad days especially that He longs to assure us He’s got us, some things are absolute; He’s strong enough to lean on.

I have started talking to Brynna about our showdowns.  In the midst of the arguing and crying, I tell her what’s going on that’s unseen.  “I know you are upset, baby girl, but I love you too much to let you be disrespectful.”  “It makes me sad that you are choosing to sit in Time Out, but you need to know there’s a boundary.”  “You can push.  I’ll keep standing firm.  Push as long as you need to.”  (That one is usually followed by “Like Lionel Richie, baby, I can do this all night long if we need to.”)

God does the same.  He wants us to know how much He loves us, so He asks us to trust Him with what we find most precious – our money.  He tells us to bring the whole tithe (10% of our income) to Him.  (By the way, the “whole tithe” means the WHOLE tithe.  Very confusing, I know.)  He begs us to trust Him.  He says, “Don’t believe me?  Test me and see if I won’t throw open the floodgates to bless you.  I’ve got more for you than you can imagine.  I’ll bless you with more than you can hold.”

I want more than anything for Brynna to know she’s safe, secure and loved.  I want her to know she can trust me.  I welcome her testing me because that’s how she’ll know.  And I know at the end of the test, I’ve got more blessing, hugs and kisses than she can imagine.  I get to shower her with more than her little mind can imagine.

God’s not afraid of your questions.  He’s not dodging your doubts. He knows how hard it is to open your hands and let go of that money you think is your only source of security.  He welcomes you testing Him because that’s how you’ll know.  And He knows that at the end, He’s got more to shower you with than your little mind can imagine.

So, to my baby girl, I say, “You won't know until you test me.  Go ahead.  I can handle it.  I am enough for what you need.”

                                               

To you, God says, “You won't know until you test me.  Go ahead.  I can handle it.  I am MORE THAN ENOUGH for all you’ll ever need.”

Home Is Where the Heart Is

It’s after 1am and I can’t sleep.  David is on a plane bound for London, so no one is here to acknowledge how nuts I am for still being awake.  In my insomnia-induced haze, I’ve been reading old posts on my blog.  (We’ll talk later about whether that’s just weird or strangely narcissistic.)  Bottom line: I am sniffling.  Mascara isn’t running but I should probably blow my nose instead of continuing to wipe it on my shirt sleeve.  (I know, gross.  Sorry to be graphic.)  Anyway…it’s rare that I cry, so a sniffle is pretty significant.  It’s sad snot.  I miss home.

I made a commitment not to call Dallas “home” as a show of acceptance that DC is now our home.  This is not a temporary move or short-term vacation.  We live in Virginia, no longer in Texas.  And for the most part, I’ve stuck to that verbiage.  But when I talk about DC Metro (our new church), I sometimes catch myself saying “you,” still referring to the way “we” do it at Fellowship.  When I am in need of adult conversation instead of toddler-speak, I can’t help but think of the differences in cost of living and wish I were “home” where daycare was more affordable.    When I’m panting at the top of the 3^rd floor, I miss my house with more room than we needed and no stairs.  When I don’t know a new place to eat or can’t get to an unknown location without my GPS, I find myself pouting a little, knowing I could get anywhere in Dallas with my eyes closed.

I am so blessed to have started some great new friendships already.  Tomorrow, Brynna is going to spend a couple hours at Esther’s house with her little people, Samuel and Reagan.  I’m so grateful for that, but unlike leaving BG with Kim, Jami, Stephanie, Janay, Deb or a plethora of other people, I feel a little guilty for asking. 

I was told when I arrived that I would most likely form a small allegiance to one grocery store – you’re either a Harris Teeter, Whole Foods or Giant shopper.  For convenience and one-stop shopping, I fall in the Harris Teeter fan club.  (Let’s not get into that name.  It took me a good 3 weeks to overcome it and the subject is still touchy.)  But even though I can get free-range eggs, shampoo and Easy Mac at the same place, sometimes I’d still just prefer Central Market.

But mostly…I miss my girls.  I want to go shopping with Tania for the settee I’m planning to add in the kitchen nook.  I want to go to the park and talk to Kim while BG swings with Jackson and Laila.  I want to laugh with Yanci after church ‘til there’s no one left in the atrium but Brynna, Sterling and Kingston running in circles.  I want to go to the Arboretum with Jami, Eisley and Beck.  I want to hold Malosi and Colton.  I want to sit on the porch swing under a blanket with Mikele and Cheri.  I want to spend this week David is out of town in Tulsa with Hope and Brandy, hugging Hannah, playing with MacKie and hearing all the new words NiNa can say.  I want to go to lunch with Janay.  I want to go shopping with Janay.  I want to watch stupid TV with Janay.  And my little girl – let’s not even start – I want to hug Taylor.

So now the sniffles have officially turned to puddles about to spill over my tear ducts.  (Yes, I am so annoyed to cry that I choose to describe it in this way.)

My resolve has not changed – I know God sent us to DC, and I am grateful He trusts us enough to use us.  I am honored to obey Him.  I am blessed this is my home now and I will continue to put down roots. 

But tonight (or this morning…whatever), I miss home.

Signs

Zoe Regina.

My niece.

My namesake.

The meaning of her name is “life” and “queen.”

God created her to live a royal life.

God doesn’t make mistakes.

He uses the imperfections of our world to show grace, do good and bring glory.

He gives us SIGNS and wonders…

Signs.

Two years ago.

A shiny, bald head, peeling fingernails and pale skin.

Wouldn’t – and couldn’t – eat, no matter how hard we tried.

So skinny.  Too skinny.

Burned.

Scarred.

Afraid.

In pain.

Tubes and machines.

Signs of disease.

Signs of hurt and need.

Signs.

Last week.

Arguing over combing her hair.

Hair that almost touches her shoulders.

Giggles.

Races.

Climbing.

Appetite.

Asking about dinner in the middle of lunch.

Tanned skin from swinging in the sun.

Skinned knees from running and playing.

Jumping in a bounce house.

“I did it, Gigi!”

No back brace.

No evidence of disease.

Clean scans.

Signs of healing.

Signs of joy and restoration.

Signs…and wonders.

Signs I promise not to forget.

Signs for which I will forever be thankful.

Signs I don’t ever want to take for granted.

Not by the hands of men.

Not by hard work or strong will.

Not by any one of us.

Signs.

and Wonders.

Therefore, in Jesus I have found reason to boast.

 I won’t tell stories of anything but that which I’ve seen firsthand – lives changed

by His signs and wonders.

 But because I’ve seen it, I have to shout it

so those who don’t know Him can see

and those who have heard can understand!

Romans 15:17-21*.

*paraphrase mine