wordless wednesday - sticky love notes from lily

she leaves them around and they are just a shadow of her beautiful little heart.

Three

The morning of Bryson's third birthday, I got in the shower and thought about the Blog I would write for my little man.  I remember how I wanted to describe him, paint a picture, of a crazy monster with the sweetest heart you'd ever known.  A kid that has turned my world upside down and back again, but who can make the very best of all my days.  He made sure I didn't get too high on my parenting horse with his entrance into the world with colic, then his instant heft that would give my back a run for it's money, then his walking at 10 months, then his getting-in-to-everything-and-running-to-the-most-dangerous-corner-of-the-----everywhere.  With his brilliant big smile he warmed my heart and let me know that I had much less control than I thought I did.  Also, more love than I thought.  Again.  

On the day of his Third Birthday, I took the day off work.  That morning, I got the girls on the school on the bus.  The day was in front of us and I couldn't wait to be with my boy the whole day, just the two of us.  It was the first day we'd ever done something fun, just the two of us.  I felt a little guilty about that, but we were going to change that today.  

The day was December 14.  

I got a text message from my friend Carrie while at the new Portland Aquarium.  Bryson and I were trying on shark costumes.  She told me of a shooting in Connecticut at an elementary school.  My heart skipped a beat and after a little back and forth, I learned K-4, 26 dead, I quickly put my phone back in my back pocket.  I took it out twice to take a picture, but I didn't want to know more.  I wanted to enjoy this time with my baby.  Each time he came in for a hug, I held him a little closer.  And each time he ran away, I felt my heart panic, I needed to be near him.  Part of me wanted to race to school to pick up the girls, but I was an hour away, and I knew Addie was already home with our nanny, and Lily only had 2 hrs left of school.  

Bryson and I went to Red Robin, played with play doh and ate lunch.  He picked out balloons, and made a big mess of his noodles, and I let him.  I didn't tell him one time to eat more, or cleaner, like I wanted to, I just drank him up.  Focusing on him, as I fought the urge to find out more.  They sang to Bryson and he loved every minute of this alone time.  

After lunch was over, I needed to get home and be with the girls.  I needed to be physically in our house with my kids.  I saw a message from our Kindergarten teacher that said some of the kids were Kindergarteners.  I didn't want to imagine and I didn't want to think about how or what to say to my kids about this, I hoped I wouldn't say anything.  I got home to excited girls who were ready, happy, waiting for the birthday boy.  They had no idea.  Of course they didn't.  Thank God they didn't.  They were absolutely full of joy and innocence that it hurt to look at them, but I was thankful.  

It was Friday.  TGIF.  A long awaited day for me.  For all the moms of the world. Pizza / movie night, the easiest night of the week in the Herman house.  We get into PJs before 5pm and we eat pizza in front of a movie until bedtime.  We cuddle on the couch and everyone likes pizza so much, we never have to coax a few more bites.  At bedtime, everyone is tired, relaxed, and ready to sleep.  Bedtime is easy.  All weekday long, we long for Friday night when we can collapse in the easy and comfortable and loving.  

My brother and Heather came over for cupcakes before their movie, and our nanny stayed a little late so we ate cake before dinner, and opened presents before getting into PJs.  It was lovely.  

Lily uncharacteristically complained a lot at Bryson's choice of movie, and as I explained to her that it was his birthday, his choice, and she didn't have to watch with us, but I hoped she would because it was her brother's special day.  I was annoyed with her and also filled with love and gratitude at the same time.  Thankful that this was my problem.  What if this wasn't the explanation I had to deliver on this night?  What if this wasn't the thing she felt the saddest about?  Having to watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse instead of Annie.  What if I had to explain that her sister was gone, or that her friends were gone, or to try to make sense of a violation that could never be restored in all of her years.  What if?  

My heart aches when I think about the rawness that I felt that day, the day my little boy turned three.  The day I had so, so much to celebrate.  The day a community lost everything, if not their children, their innocence, their support network, their school.  I have never been so full of fear lurking in the world.  Waiting for me to send my children off to them.  

That weekend I had more patience than maybe I ever had in eight years of parenting.  I drank them up, I memorized their movements, their laughs, their tears.  I knew that whatever emotion I was feeling toward them as they pestered one another, or woke me up at night, I was lucky to be experiencing it.  I felt blessed and guilty.  Guilty for being blessed.  Guilting for it taking another's tragedy to wake me into perspective.  But that's what it takes sometimes.  

I was forever changed by the horror that happened to an elementary school 3,000 miles away.  I knew I would never forget the pain that I felt in my heart.  I hoped that was the worst thing I would ever experience in my lifetime, and I was sad because I knew it almost certainly would not be.  

And here we are.  Two months later.  Most of us have all but forgotten.  We think about it, we shutter, and we go on.  We make sure that we look at our kids in the eyes and tell them we love them before they get on the bus.  Say we are sorry before they run off for a day out of our control.  But we aren't gripped by the urgency anymore.  Maybe that's because emotionally it is too exhausting to live in that kind of fear.  We can't protect them from everything.  My friend, Melanie, touched me on that first painful Monday, when I had to send them back to school and I didn't want to.  She reminded me that my teachers love those kids as much as I do, and they will do anything and everything I would do to keep them safe.  I thought of my teachers, my friends, and...oh, that is so true.  It gave me comfort and courage to walk through that week. 

And in the weeks since I've prayed and I've thought endlessly about those families, those mamas.  I've read so many good blogs, like - I know what 6 looks like & I am Adam Lanza's mother.  I've read articles that have helped me to understand why this tragedy touched me so deeply, and how we are all victims here.  But I'm scared.  Scared of how easily my heart goes from broken to numb. I hope I can find a way to let this break my heart again and again, not because I want to feel the pain, but because with the pain came such clarity about what matters and what it really means to live in the moment and celebrate my present.   I want it to allow me to feel the compassion and gratitude in that big messy lump in my throat in those weeks after Bryson's 3rd birthday.  And if I'm totally honest, I want to love my kids as much as I did that weekend.  I want to love them so much that I never look away when they are talking.  I want to love them so much that I never grumble at giving another good night hug.  I want to love them so much that the mere sound of their voice gives me delight, every time.  And I will and I can.  As long as I can remember.  I can remember.  I want to remember.  

I'm posting below the things I wrote on Facebook last December.  I remember choosing each word carefully and from my heart.  Reading them again as I prepared to write this blog reminded me that they are important because they are mine.  

Every year, I will celebrate even harder that I have another year with my baby boy, and I will ache for the families out there who are hurting as they think about what should have been.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Matthew 5:4

Dec 14 - Bryson's third birthday - I was expecting this day to be filled with joy and tears but...I had no idea. It was hard to soak in our day and feel joyful knowing many were hurting in ways that I pray I never have to know. I celebrated my birthday boy, memorized his smile, his energy, and loved all my kids so much it ached to look at them and ached to look away from them. I tried to keep my trembling and worried mind at bay by staying in the present, enjoying the moments I have right in front of me. My heart and prayers are with those that lost everything today, and I am reminded how precious each and every life is. I'm so full of love and pain, and I imagine I'm not alone.

Dec 15 - My rockstar kindergartener on the last night of Hanukkah. I delighted in her every move today, every smile, and even in the mean stuff she did to her brother. I gladly gave in to "one more hug" three times during bedtime stalling. I simply can't imagine a world without her infectious laugh in it. I feel a little guilty but mostly so grateful for every single thing that could have gone unnoticed today but was not.

Dec 17 - Hurting like it's the first time I've ever left them. :(

Dec 18 - Jeanine and Carrie, I'm so, so thankful for you both. Laugh with me, cry with me, get angry with me, and love with me. I so needed what you two amazing ladies gave me today. Then I got in the car with Mr. Herman and the rest of my family in our pajamas with blankets on our laps and we looked at Christmas lights and ate junk and drank/spilled hot chocolate and sang songs and laughed, windows down, heater up. That was the other thing I really needed today. Still hearthurting and still grateful.

Jan 7 - Back to work. Back to school. It was still dark out at 8:30am. I miss my babies. I feel uneasy again. Dreary day in the PNW. Whoa. Is. Me.

Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones.  When you have finished your daily task, go to sleep in peace.  God is awake.  ~Victor Hugo~

4999 days

Two things happened this week that made me think of the beginning.  

The beginning of us.  

I saw this great idea for a Valentine's day card.  As I calculated the days of our love I was surprised.  Nearly 5000 days! Wow!

It got me to thinking about the early days of our love.  The day we met.  The romance and quick pace of getting to know each other, long distance.  The TWO cards a day I got for the first FIVE months.  The moving in together to soon, the figuring that out.  

It's just neat to remember all this stuff. 

Then a friend posted a little game on FB where they pick an age and you say where you were then and where you are now.  She picked 24.  I thought all about being 24.  I lived in NJ and drove a little honda civic.  Who had your heart? was one of the questions.  OMGosh did Lawrence ever have my 24 year old heart.  Sometimes I wish I could trade our more mature and responsible love for that can't get enough of you love that we had at 24.  It's fun to think of that love, because it's this love, and it's important to remember that. 

To look at each other with fresh eyes and remember why and how we fall in love.  To live out THIS love story, because it's ours and it's good, even if it does get buried under to do lists and karate classes.  

We've been through a lot in the last 4,999 days.  I'm difficult sometimes and he's difficult sometimes, we've been through a lot. Each year adds new prospective and new adventures and new things to love.  

I'm reading the book Love Does by Bob Goff.  It's great.  I'm so blessed to have love moving me each day, that I am surrounded by it and always have been.  To think back at all the little ways he's taken care of me over the past 4,999 days, the very first things that swept me off my feet and the things now that I might sometimes take for granted.  Lawrence is thoughtful and amazing.  I am a very, very lucky girl.  

Happy Valentine's Day, wishing you all a day filled with love.

Addie is osum!

Add caption

You know, I knew it had been a while since I'd blogged.  And darn it, I think about blogging so often that i't hard to believe that almost a month and a half have passed.  Anyway, I'm here now, might as well make the most of it.

Our kindergarten teacher is THE.BEST.  I mean I know there are parents of kindergarten students everywhere you think that, it goes without saying that really FABULOUS people get hired to teach this grade, to do this job.  But ours, is, without a doubt, THE.BEST.

She sent me this text today: And her writing is "osum" too

Weekend News~

In case you can't see the picture, it says: 

I went snow showeng.  Lily ned a caof.  There was a step hel.  I wrk hrod.  I was osum.  

In case you need interpretation: I went snowshoeing.  Lily knitted a scarf.  There was a steep hill.  I worked hard.  I was awesome.  

She's telling the truth about all of it.  

Lily got the grand idea back in October to knit each of us a scarf for this event, so we could all be matching.  She made that happen too.  She got her Grandma to help and her cousin Jayme too.  She even taught me to knit and I produced one of these!  We looked great and she was SO SO proud of the scarves we each wore.  Bryson didn't want to wear a pink scarf but I put it on him backwards while we were strapping on his snowshoes and he didn't even notice.  

Steep hill ahead

We did our Romp to Stomp Out Breast Cancer snowshoe event on Mt Hood this weekend.  All the kids snowshoed.  Lawr pulled a sled with Bryson in for part of it.  It was hard.  It was partially steep. And our kids powered through.  We did too.  This wasn't the hardest year we've done this, but it was difficult to get everyone up and around the course, staying warm and happy, all at the same time.  We have grand schemes and we get tired and frustrated but we have a lot of fun.  Then we get back in the car and we say, wow, we just did that.

With 3 little kids.  Little.  Kids.

Finish line, that's Lawr with the sled and Lily and Bryson.  Addie finished first in the family and you better believe she didn't let ANYONE forget that! 

And we feel proud, and happy, and alive, and we are osum.

Happy New Year!!!

My motto for 2012 was "do not let perfect be the enemy of good", 2011's was "do not wear your blessings like burdens".  Both of those were things that someone else said, things that I'd heard many times before said in different ways, but when I heard them said this way at the time I heard them, they resonated.  

About a month ago my friend Jeanine said, "Jenny, just be where you are".  

It's like she spoke directly into my soul.  I felt my heart jump when she said it.  So I decided today that I've committed my old mottos to my every day life.  I like the way it feels to practice those mottos on a daily basis, for them to be life rules for myself.  

So I decided my 2013 motto is: 

"Just be where you are"

Do I need a motto year after year?  No, of course not.  I wasn't even looking for one.  I could probably take the last two with me for the next 50 years.  

But I really want to be where I am.  

When I'm at work, I need to be at work, working hard.  Not wishing I was somewhere else, wishing something was different.  Getting more done, in less hours.  I need to mentally be there to do that.  When I'm with my kids, they need me to be there, and not just a nodding tired body, but really be there.  The same when I'm with Lawrence, or my mom, or a with a friend, or quiet with the Lord.  Make eye contact, pay attention.  As the electronics of the world make it possible to do everything but.  As the racing mind of a mother with more to dos than hours in the day.   I want to try, I want to really really try.  I know it's the easiest when we are outside.  In the snow, in the water, in the park.  It's easier to be there outside than it is inside.  It's easier to be there when I'm not at home, looking at the things that need to be done.  Multitasking my little brain off.  I'm kind of a home body, I like my home.  But I want to...

Just be where you are. 

It's not always possible.  Just like I forget to not complain about hard stuff that is really a blessing, hard jobs that I'd never want to not do.  Just like I beat myself up for the 1% undone rather than congratulate myself for the 99% accomplished.  But it's a worthy goal.  It's an easy statement to remember.  It resonates.  

Because what happens if I miss this?  

I just can't!

You can't either.  If there is one lofty and worthy goal for all of us to show love and respect to each other and to teach our children to do the same, it's to look into the eyes of the person talking to you, to make them feel like you don't have somewhere else to be, something else to do.  It's to plan ahead just enough that looking at your phone during a 15 minute conversation is unnecessary.  It's turning everything off when you can, as often as you can.

Be there!  

I get excited just thinking about all the things I won't miss out on if I stay true to this one simple and hard to do thing.

Wishing you a fabulous 2013.

The week (or two) and TGIF

I might pay big bucks for this contraption delivered with a stiff drink right about now.

(Ahem) No, I don't have time to write a blog today, but I don't have any other choice.  If I don't do it, I might explode from the amount of pressure building.  How do you like my new blog header, nice, right?  All cheerful and hopeful.  Inspiring me to blog again.  And sing, "one of these things are not like the others".  And remember that when I don't let perfect be the enemy of good, our family can take a pretty darn cute picture.  

Sigh.  

This post was going to be titled, the unlucky Christmas tree.  But it didn't stop there.  There was too much before and after that I have to write more.  This is sure to be a long and boring post, if not slightly entertaining.  When it's not happening to you.  This just has not been my week.  Or my two weeks.

We got home from Joseph on Sunday night from a fabulous and extremely tiring visit for Thanksgiving.  We had a full week ahead.  Laundry and *most* of the unpacking was done by Tuesday.  The part that didn't get done is still piled, almost weeks later, on a table in the garage (now with ornament boxes piled on top of that - I wouldn't go into the garage if I were you).  Every time I can't find a CD, jacket, book, pair of gloves, or charger for something, that has been the magic spot to find it. A few months ago, we got rid of our way-too-big for-the-room-it-was-in entertainment center to make room for our new flat screen.  That left the guest bed piled high with picture frames, wedding albums, nick naks, gifts from all over the world from our parents, and seashells the kids have gathered, mixed with a few creations from Ceramic Cafe.  The bed was three feet high in "stuff".  While we are thrilled to have that huge piece of furniture sold, we totally underestimated the amount of work it would be to redistribute all the goods it housed.

Does it feel like I'm getting off track?  Maybe.  It's all part of the mounting pressure that I need to dump before my head pops off.

There was a lot to do that full week after Thanksgiving.  I had my first Jury duty on Wednesday and we had tickets to go see Bruce Springsteen that night - a friend was watching our kids to be relieved by Lawrence's parents were slated to arrive for 10 days while we were out listening to the Boss.  Thursday we were supposed to have Lawr's company party and Saturday a friends 5th annual holiday dinner party.  So, I had two days to undo Joseph, get the guest room ready, and arrange our lives to have THREE nights out in one week (we are normally lucky if we have one every two months!)  At work, I had auditors arriving on the following Monday, so I also had to have everything ready for that, just in case I was chosen for a trial and would be out of the office more than the one day I already couldn't afford to be out.  Pres-sure cook-ker.  The voice in my head said Jenny, if you didn't procrastinate, if you didn't take time for yourself, if you didn't plan so much, if you didn't say yes to things, if you were more organized, a better mom, a better wife, a better employee things would not be such a mess.  That voice is so mean.

Lawr's party was rescheduled and boy did we need that rest.  I didn't get selected to be on a Jury, so that was a nice day of book reading at the courthouse, and I had the next two days to dot my i's and cross my t's in time for the auditors arrival.

It all seemed to be falling into place, tired place, but place.

Saturday was tree getting day.  Taking my Jewish in-laws to get their first Christmas tree.  

Every year, we get our Tree at Sleighbells.  Every year we have a great experience.  We cut our own tree, the santa is great there.  They tie it to your car, shake the extra needles.  Free hot chocolate.  What's not to love?  All for around $50.  Getting the tree has always been a 100% pleasant experience.

This year, we decided to get a at Hagg's tree farm because they were advertised for $10, how Dave Ramsey of us.  Lawrence had a race there this summer and it was a gorgeous location, only 15 miles out of town, but seemingly out in the mountains.  What's not to love?  $10 + in the mountains. Except everything went wrong.

All seven of us packed into the truck and we headed out to Hagg's.  The truck normally takes 23 gallons of gas, and when we got to the tree farm, Lawrence discovered that the meter said we'd already used 24 gallons.  After passive aggressive hints were dropped around the truck regarding whose fault it was that the lack of gas went unnoticed until now for a while, and finding that all gas cans on the farm were full diesel rather than gasoline, we decided to go get gas now, and come back to get the tree.  You know, so the experience could be enjoyable, rather than stressful.  Ha.  If you've never brought your kids to a tree lot, and then left immediately without a tree, you should try it, especially if you enjoy a lot of whining and worrying and questions while you are trying desperately to find a gas station and you've already used way more gas than your car takes!

Our first (?) mistake was not just going back down the mountain the way we came up, instead using iPhone GPS on the top of a mountain full of unknown named roads to find the nearest station.  After an hour of breath-holding, mother-in-law-arm-squeezing, and pissed-husband-driving-way-too-fast on scary mountain roads, and a lot of praying on my part.  I do mean a lot.  My prayers were answered and we made it to Newberg to get some gas.  We considered cutting our losses and just going to Sleighbells like has been our tradition and given it was on the way home, and we would knew where it was.

But no.

Back to Hagg's and more getting lost and almost dying on mountain roads it was.  Jenny, you are so stubborn and frugal, you are ruining this whole experience for your family, the voice said.

When we finally got back to Hagg's, Bryson was asleep and Lily was mad.  I took the kids to see Santa while we figured out which tree option to do.  It started to rain hard.

Santa was a bust, and I'm pretty sure Lily figured out something funny is going on.  He wasn't a great Santa and she was very suspicious.  Especially when he seemed surprised at how old she is.  How could he know if she is naughty or nice when he doesn't even know an 8-year-old kid when he sees one.  I told Lawrence not to say anything to her until she said something, and that I wanted to talk to her alone.  Two minutes later I heard him talking to both girls about helpers and him giving their list to the real Santa or getting the list back.  Damn.  She hasn't brought it up since but she's been acting more emotional than usual this past week.  I can only think of about 50 things I could blame that on, and this is one of them.  Jenny, what did I say about being a better mother?

So we went to get the tree.  Lawr's parents sat in the car.  The $10 ones were self serve, already laying on the ground.  They don't tie them on, or shake them or bind them or all that good stuff.  We chose what is by far the ugliest tree we've ever gotten.  At this point we were damned well gonna get that $10 tree after all we'd gone through.  Lawr and I were a wet, muddy, pitchy mess by the time we loaded back in the car for home.  I wasn't 100% sure the tree would stay on for the drive home, but it did.  We had to tie it on the back vs the top of the truck because of the box still on the top from Joseph.  So it got even more muddy as we drove along in our white truck that looked like it had been in a 4x4 competition of sorts.  

We got home and got it in the stand and put it on the porch to dry before bringing it in the house.

We didn't decorate it that night because we had a party to go to and it was still pretty wet.  Lily was not happy about this either.

The next day, kids and I went to church, and after some quiet time, we got out the stuff to decorate the tree.  We turned on Christmas music and the house felt nice.  So far, Grandma and Grandpa's first tree experience had been some what of a disaster, thought Grandma did marvel at the beautiful ornaments we had which held special meaning from over the years.

The tree was a little crooked, leaning just a tad.  I looked at it fully decorated, with it's lights and it's meaning, and I decided that it did not have to be perfect to be beautiful.  And I was sure that I was right about that.  Do not let perfect be the enemy of good, Jenny.  It is leaning, but it is beautiful.  Lily went straight to work, making gifts for everyone and putting them under the tree.  She helped Bryson make some stuff, more gifts under the tree.  Sunday was a beautiful day.

Monday, I worked 12 hrs in the office for the first day of the interim audit, and went to bed at midnight.  5am, Lawr wakes me.  I was wrong, our imperfect tree was not only not beautiful, but now it was on the floor.  It had tipped during the night and spilled water all over all of the gifts Lily had made as well as broken the stand.  With only 5 hrs of sleep, I got ready for work, had some coffee and waited for the kids to wake up so I could break the news gently and make sure they focused on how lucky we were than none of our ornaments were broken.  The tree leaning haphazardly on the wall with a towel wrapped around it to keep the pitch at bay, and half the ornaments on the wet carpet.  

Tuesday was a brutal day of work, I just could not focus, I was exhausted.  I felt loopy and drunk.  I got upset by simple questions raised by the auditors.  I came home in time for dinner and Hanukkah, we exchanged gifts with Lawr's folks.  If there is one highlight of my last two weeks, it was the pure JOY on my kids faces as they opened gifts that they wanted.  A glow in the dark soccer ball for Lily, a carpet car track for Addie, and a Spiderman costume for Bryson.  The smile he had when he saw that costume was gold.  GOLD.  Each of them were overjoyed at receiving.  I felt proud of how gracious my children are.  You are doing something right, Jenny.  I loved sitting and watching them play, Bryson running and sweating and smiling under his spiderman hood.  Addie chasing him, Lily snuggling with me reading the back of her new Annie soundtrack.  High point of my weeks for sure.  Those smiles.  Those hearts.  That's what makes ALL the rest of this worth it.

Wednesday, another long day with the auditors.  Since I normally work 2 days a week from home, 3 days in the office in a row feels like a lot.  I am always reminded of what a blessing those days at home are when I don't get them for a week or two.  I hadn't seen the kids much in the last few days and today was no different.  I was babysitting for our friends, as a trade for them watching our kids during Springsteen.  Their 2yo son wasn't thrilled to have me there, especially during his transition from crib  to big boy but big sis was a big help.  They went to bed late, and got up a few times, but nothing too hard, no screaming or carrying on.  But there were also a lot of pet things to do, I'm not used to so much commotion after I get kids to bed!  I had cats making noise upstairs and on my lap and dog paws to wipe after letting him out and worrying to do about said dog getting into a skunk.  If you know me, you know what an animal person I am. Read: I am not an animal person.  But I am a friend person.  Our friend knew how bad my week had been, and they knew I hadn't seen my kids much and they offered me an out, but I didn't take it.  I wanted to do this for them.  They deserved it.  They appreciated it.  They have dropped everything for us.  We are both are without family close by to help out in a pinch and we have become that fill in family when we can, when we need each other.  Sometimes a favor is worth being tired over when you know the person receiving it not only needs it but they are truly grateful for it.  It was a chance for me to feel like I was doing something good, something right.  I needed that.  

Thursday, I'm feeling a little run down, but my day is going along okay, until I got out of a meeting with 5 missed calls and a few missed texts from the girls school.  This made me panic.  Everything was fine, and there was only a little confusion about whether Addie was riding the bus or getting picked up, but I panicked just the same.  She was fine, her AMAZING teacher knew that she would be upset if she had to wait in the office, so she brought her to the classroom to wait, and she said Addie had a little skip in her step at being a special helper.  But I felt defeated.  For missing those calls, for being at work, for not reminding my in-laws to pick her up, for....feeling like not enough in too many places.  You see, Jenny, no matter how much you do to prepare, something will always slip through the cracks, and this time, it was Addie.  The voice in my head, just won't let me be enough.  

I left work at a reasonable hour, I got home in time for the kids' bedtime, and then I got to bed early last night.  I got 9 hours of sleep.  Twas amazing.  I woke up this morning feeling renewed.  TGIF.  Only one more day of this.  I got ready for Lawrence's work party tonight, a little more makeup and high heels than usual, I got emails for work sent from home, I played with Bryson a little extra before I got in my car and headed downtown.

A block away from the house I heard, cu-clunk, cu-clunk, cu-clunk. I stopped and looked and one tire was all the way flat.  Shit!  Seriously, week?  So I got back in the car and slowly pulled it around the block and back into our driveway.  I sat in the car for a few minutes thinking of a way I could get to work, to deal with the auditors for the last day without asking Lawrence's parents for a ride.  But there wasn't, so I went in, to tell them about yet another thing that is wrong with a car of ours.  They were fine with it, and they gave me a ride to work, I played with Bryson as we drove, and they made it back in time to pick up Addie, in just the nick of time.

I rolled into work after 10am.

And I didn't have time to write this blog today.  Jenny, this is how you get yourself into trouble.  This is why you end up having to work late. 

But I needed to.  Write this long and wordy account of the pressure that has been building since we pulled away from Joseph at the end of November almost 2 weeks ago.  Notice I didn't even mention any of the every day stuff? The stuff that is already hard and already stressful every day.  This was all the on top of that stuff, stuff.

Does it feel better, now that I had my writing dump?  Maybe a little.  I'm taking deep breaths and putting it in perspective.  I could have had a scary blow out on I-5 last night in the dark and rain.  Instead my car is safely in our driveway.  We could have had the opposite problem, where Addie was left off the bus to a locked and empty house due to some confusion, rather than safe and sound and unruffled with her favorite teacher.  We could have ran out of gas, or worse, gone off the mountain, but instead we were fine, if just a little anxiety ridden.  We could be in a situation where we couldn't afford a $10 tree or gifts for our children, but instead we have more than 93% of the world.  We could wish for a square of space to put our not-so-beautiful-beautiful tree rather than having a warm and roomy house to put it in.  Do not wear your blessings like burdens, Jenny, remember, you always say that.  You are blessed to have clothes to make laundry, and children to feed, and a house to maintain, and cars to drive and then repair. 

We work hard.  Really hard.  It feels like I'm running on empty all the time.  So is Lawrence.  We are doing our best.  Trying to make good memories, do favors for friends, help our neighbor, keep up with obligations, be good hosts, be good parents, be good children, pay the bills, keep the marriage alive, be good employees, maintain a nice home.  But we can always look around and see what is left undone.  We need no reminder that the garage is unorganized, that the blower is broken, that the engine light is on, or that the dryer doesn't turn off.  We know this.  Some things are new things and some things are old things.  But it is impossible to do it all.  Even if we wanted to, we just can't.  We do what we can with the time and money we have.  And on most weeks, I think we do a pretty good job.  

So we chose our priorities.  But more importantly, we must, I must hear the voice in my head that says, Jenny, you can get a flat tire, even if tires are the newest thing on your car. You are enough.  You have enough.  It is enough.  

That's not what the voice says so often though.  Not when stuff goes wrong, and the world is not perfect.  Not when people feel neglected or point out your shortcomings or the auditors question your intelligence.  Not even when no one says anything or questions anything.  The voice is really mean.  

It's not the Voice of Truth though.  That voice is the only voice that I should listen to.  And that's the reason I have to write it all out.  Laugh about it, remember it, love it.  I want to look back in 20 years and remember this two weeks.  Remember Bryson's sweaty head that night as we cuddled and he told me about how much he liked to be "pidoman".  And I don't want to just remember it, I want to long for it.  I want to know without the shadow of a doubt that I have the life I wanted.  

When I write all this out, here on my blog that no one reads anymore because of my infrequent posting, I can't end it on a bad note, or a stressful note.  I want to end it on a tied-up-in-a-real-live-and-imperfect-bow-with-ribbon-fraying-at-both-ends note.  

Because this is it.  This is the one life we get.  And so today, for the rest of this day, I choose to notice all of the things that we are doing well, and ignore the things that are falling apart.  The things that matter are happy and standing strong.  So I choose those.  I choose the things on my thankfulness list from last month.  

Christmas Tree from Hagg's Tree farm - $10, Gas for the Truck - $70, New tree stand to replace the one that broke - $25, A new tire - $50.  A shitty week and a blog to remind you that you have a life that is full of love and worth living, Priceless.  

And wa-lah.  I don't feel like I am going to explode anymore.  Thanks God, for the Voice of Truth, and for the voice you gave me.  Thank you for reminding me to use it when I needed to.  Thank you. 

Wordless Wednesday - exactly 3 years ago today

It was almost time and I couldn't wait to meet him.