-these 3 things-

My year of rhythm pushes me.  Like a bull in a china shop, its eagerness to be not only present but so center stage in my life is cantankerously obnoxious and mannerly out-of-bounds at times.  I am hard at work on riding the waves of life as they ebb & flow. But, those lots of responsibilities as a homeschool mama and perpetual to-dos of a designer and hormones and a full-time-hard-working-head-coach-of-a-husband tend to get in the way of my rocksteady efforts from time to time.  Ahem.  

This place I call home for my thoughts-turned-words deserves truth.  I am not joyous all the time.  There are moments when I want to explode; moments where I can hear my mother's words, "I hope your face doesn't freeze like that." all too loud in my internal ears.  There are moments when I would like to call in a substitute mom for my boys complete with those great heavy worksheet laden sub-plans as I fill out my sick leave and/or personal day form.  Goodness knows, my boys would enjoy a sub-mom on the days when my ebb & flow meter is askew.

So, I write this post for honesty's sake.  Honesty to you, but mostly for the woman I see in the mirror every morning.  And, I know that my smile is still here even in those days when I feel like her or her. How do I know?  Those 3 examples above.  Yes, these brought me joy this week.

Olde Cape Code Toasted Sesame Soy & Ginger salad dressing I want to pour it in a shot glass or sip it  on ice. I love it that much.  I actually have a small canker sore in my mouth from the acidic overdose of  salad ingestion from just this week.

Shiloh Season by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor  This is the book I am reading to the boys aloud. I read Shiloh  to them last Spring.  I love that the dialect is West Virginia country and I love that the topics are hard ones about a love that works through tough lessons about life with bad people.  I love getting lost in my boys' eyes as they are glossy and transfixed on every word aloud read from my lips.  I love that they beg for me to read more as each chapter finishes.  Joy is here in these precious times reading to my heathens.

OPI's Sweetheart nail color.  You know my joy is grading out at a good C- when I am choosing natural tones for my nails.  This color is soothing my ever-lovin' soul right now.  I am not gonna knock it. And,  yes.  Nail color is important.  It is if you're Meghan Alicia Cobble at least.

Gotta scoot.  I am off to find a padded cell.  One that fits a 5'9" woman of athletic stature.  You'll know who she is when you see her.  She has this sour scowl on her face almost as if it's frozen there.  Her nails look great though painted in the sweetest natural hue.

.mac 

Broken

My sweet little one.  May I be reminded of your strength.  Moreover, your courage.  With gritted teeth, elephant sized salty tears and those high pitch shrieks calling out for me, the damage was done.  Accidents that seize the heart and stop time of the ways we know as normal.  My mama meter's read out was hesitant at first.  Processing your anger and the shock.  May I remind you that you and your brother are all too often the epitome of roughandtumble.  Thus, our visits to the land of falls and scrapes are frequent.

But, you clenched my hand and your eyes peered into mine a distinct delivery of discernment.  One that pressed into my heart and pierced it just the same.  Anger filled my presence and prayers begin to follow.   Our pursuit to your prognosis was now::  Daddy, Mama and you.  I will remember your Daddy's fervor over your comfort and your closeness to him.  His loss of memory when asked for your birthdate by the emergency room clerk percolated into my motherhood role of task mastering and his papa bear hold on you.

Your serenity secured us.  Mama and Daddy watched on as your courage and calmness collected us.   As if you were there for our comfort.  Your manners were present and profound; your patience unwavering.  Contorted and twisted, you remained strong and steadfast for the x-rays to confirm.

It was broken. 

Your collar bone.
Our hearts.

My sweet little one.  Thank you for your poise.  Thank you for your attitude of optimism and healing.  For this tackle accident between you and your brother has stopped our normal for but a time.  And, has reminded your mother of God's grace and miraculous healing.  A sling for six weeks and your bone will shift on its own and grow completely back together good as new.

You are His.
And, He is so very present in you.

For being broken, I give thanks to Him. In so many ways.

Mama

A Pep Rally

Let's talk real, shall we?

I mean I am all about some real.

Real life. Real stuff. 

Ever have times where you so wish you could walk into a gymnasium only to find it full up of band members dressed in their most dramatically ornate uniforms? You know the kind with the fringy shoulder cuffs and feathered tall caps?  Yes, that kind.  And, they were playing a high bass kick-to-the-beat-don't-stop-get-it-get-it rhythm line for you?  And, the drum major was all high steppin' in place with his spirit baton staff waving obnoxiously in the air.

And cheerleaders?

Don't forget the cheerleaders.

Like 4 squads of them with rockstar ponytails flippin' and twistin' like slinkys all over the hardwood and cheering your name.

By now, the fans in the stands would have formed a human tunnel just so you could make your grand entrance to center court.  Each one with tee shirts on that boasted your name and positive sayings about you.

Yeah.

That don't-stop-get-it-get-it beat.

Well, that's what the shoes above are for me.

Reminders.
For when I need a beat.

Got these baby dolls in a Nashville Goodwill.
Paid $4.00 for them.

The moment they met my eyes,  I could hear my name being called out of a megaphone.

I.AM.SERIOUS.

And, as for talking real...

• My nose is raw and red and a wet-like kinda crusty.
• My head is swimmy.
• Water rains out of my nose.
• I am sneezing a minium of 10 times an hour.
• My children have decided to jump on beds.
• They're talking back too.
• My clean, unfolded laundry pile is about to become an art piece on our kitchen couch.
• I cut my nails off and haven't painted them in 2 weeks.

I mean I am all about some real.

And, I'm all about these shoes getting quick-like on my feet.

Cause this mama is in need of a pep rally.

Oh, drum major?  Where are you??

.mac

Brief Relief

Thick.
Compacted.
Impairment.

Stuffed.
Stuck.
Compromised.

Agony,
Annoyance.
Ailment.

Desperate.
Drugstore.
Decision.


Miracle.
My nose.
Mucinex.


.mac :)