designnarrative

Well, I’m not desperate or a housewife.  I am however a bit of a frazzled home maker.  Today I started more laundry (we won’t discuss the three loads in my living room yet to be folded) before work, worked all day, ran errands at four stores, picked up kids, grabbed dinner on the go, and back to school for a parent meeting, and back out for McDonald’s teacher night.  Yikes- I just want a hot bath and enough time and energy to really scrub my kitchen floor (so dirty, you could eat off it).  The point being, I need to let go this expectation of the pristine home while working and babies and life.  I want to do it all but I do many things moderately.  A few balls always get dropped in the daily juggle.  I would love to have time to read more, exercise, even just dye my hair but for now I will settle for clean babies and a knowing that this season will pass.  Just as up all night with newborns, diapers, and high chairs have past and I long for the sweetness of that young babies stage while glossing over the exhaustion and smelly bits.  I am thankful for our blessings that include never-ending laundry, for active kids to chase, and for the opportunity to make this place a home  even if it is a less than perfect one.

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I am fond of creature comforts:  hot showers, climate control, my Keurig.  The stillness of camping with our little tribe of four brought something to surface in me.  I felt a contentment and peace that is very evasive in my life.  For once, the to do list and cleaning and shopping and laundry and work and demands just stopped and I realized that the wonder of God is everywhere if I’ll just be still enough to look.  I am by no means a true “granola” kinda girl but I think our family will be doing more camping.

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odd ball, strange, and weirdo-beirdo kind of day

a person showed me a picture of her new pot-bellied pig during my TEAM evaluation

another person said “scally wag” and “baby daddy” in our meeting while explaining her new engagement but not so finalized divorce- alrighty then

a random, don’t know you from Adam,  guy at the drug store choose to show me a photo of his two-year old “booty dancing” as he put it

then he invited me to visit his pawn/music shop

I smiled and gripped my kids hands tighter and walked quickly to the door

yikesy frikesy!

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It was the perfect pumpkin,

garage door painting,

rock smashing,

book reading, lazy fall day.

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my ears go snap-crackle-pop every time I swallow

there is green-gray goo coming up from my lungs

I have a oozing, just won’t heal, sore on my ankle where I tangled with a bouncy slide at a birthday party well over a week ago

oh, and to top it all off- I’m reading Jen Hatmaker’s book 7

hot mess? oh, yes

I’m really thinking crazy thoughts like, maybe God cares more about making me holy than making me comfortable

and maybe the ever elusive American dream is not such a great thing to spend a life time chasing

and maybe I should move to Africa, but I really don’t like heat and mosquitoes and my only valuable skill is conducting educational assessments and maybe crafting around

and last time I checked, Africa was not in dire need of psychoeducational evaluations and the plethora of paperwork associated with said evaluations

or crafts, haven’t heard that Africa needs more craft projects

and maybe I should make such decisions when Joe is home and I haven’t consumed way past my daily allowance of caffeine and sinus medicine

but really 7 has me wondering if Jesus would have attended a posh, well-funded suburban school or an inner city one with all the baggage

and since he was born in a stable in a major city to semi homeless young parents, I’m thinking it would be the under performing inner city one

and maybe I should go to sleep instead of pondering the school zoning of Jesus

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