Monday, July 14, 2014

Pillow Dreams

It happened to me today.  I heard an ad from J.C. Penny for back to school clothes and when the manicured voice mentioned pillows and pillowcases suddenly I saw my Grace-girl at 18; headed off to college under the burden of pillows and books and buoyed by innocence and hopefulness.  As the young woman turned and smiled at me with confident compassion I felt sand shift under my feet and I thought- What the Hell.  She's barely 8.

But this year marks a big change for us.  We're sending the kids to school so this Mama can go back to work and help this family to financial freedom.

We've been homeschooling this incredible creature for... well... for 8 years I guess.  I taught her to walk, talk, strum a guitar, sing.  I taught her read and write and to love learning.  In many respects this is absolutely the best time for her to shift to the public school arena.  I got to have those fun years with her, those blissed out moments of "Ah Ha!," the sweet shift from single to sister...

But I wasn't expecting the grieving.  Seriously.  I must be the biggest weenie in the world.  Why is this so hard for me?  Because I know.  I know that growing up will happen. I know that there will come a day that she won't look at me with her doe eyes and her dreams on her sleeve.  It doesn't make it easier to face.  I'm not saying school is evil.  AT ALL.  I am saying that I will miss her.  But she's ready.  I'm ready.  I'm on the path to ready.  I'll be there very soon.

Now- don't even ask me about Baby Rain. I haven't started grieving for her yet- for the years I got to hoard with her sister that she'll never get to share with me.  That's a process for another day.  But now- It's time to share these babies with the world.  Watch out world- here they come.  I'll keep you updated on our family adventure, because that's really what it is.  We're being called out of our comfort zone in a new and prickly way.  Never in my life have I shirked adventure, so:  BRING IT ON, WORLD!  We're ready.

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Here's to Great Little Coffee Shops

I've been neglecting my blogs.  It's a sure sign I've been neglecting my writing and maybe even my soul.  All I can think about today is wide open spaces, mountains, oceans and deep, mysterious forests that go on forever and ever.  I've been dreaming about moss so deep you can bury your toes in it and water so clear you can count the rocks at the bottom of the swimming hole.

And then I dream about jumping.

And running.

And flying.

And now I'm not dreaming, anymore.  The reality sets in- the beautiful life I live is enough.  It has to be enough.  The dream storage inside me is so full it's leaking.  This is a problem.   I need to stop and make space for peace.

With every dish I wash and every sock pair I join with joyful surprise (because really, it can be a rare event) I'm trying to go more to a place of thankfulness than despair.  Just to clarify- I've never regretted my choice to be a mom or a wife.  But some days it just isn't all rainbows and sunshine.  Sometimes it's tears and regretted words and hurt feelings.  Some days it's black eyes and scraped knees and we all forget to say please.

And on those days I do my best to channel Ann Voskamp or Bo Stern because, really, what is so hard in my life that I get to complain about it?  But on those days my words feel like wood chips in my mouth.  My tears flow faster than my fingers on the keyboard and I'm stuck in a slough of no inspiration.  Like riding your bike along a nice dirt track and suddenly running into deep, deep sand that just grips your tires and knocks you flying over your handlebars.  Maybe that would be a good name for a self-help book:  "When Life Grips Your Tires and Sends You Flying Over Your Handlebars."  People like self-help books.  It could sell.  But today I don't want to write a best selling self-help book.  All I want to do is disappear into quiet and space and myself and just hide out in my favorite hiding place or a really good, funky coffee shop.

So this post is dedicated to all those great coffee shops out there that allow us to sit in stoney silence and don't admonish us for ignoring the piles of dishes and they don't shun us for running out on our husbands on a Sunday afternoon just "because," and they don't judge us for not shaving our legs or finishing that book club book or trying that new thing on Pinterest... they just let us sit.

Now- before I go I have to say this.  Jesus loves to meet me at that coffee shop.  Sometimes it's the only place I remember to look for him.  So please, please, put down your expectations and go meet him there.  Have some coffee and whine a little about your first world problems.  It's ok, he listens.  And when it's all done you've spared your husband the drama and your kids the unexplained tears and everything feels a little better in your world.  I know it works because I'm sitting here in this great little coffee shop...

I hope I remember to blog more often.  I hope you remember to be you, too.