When I set out for Aldi and ended up at Audi

Life is a grand obstacle course.

It starts early: look at what it takes for a tiny human to even get out of his mom's body!

Then notice all the tumbles and bumps it takes for a child to learn to walk.

There's a pretty standard set of obstacles that most children go through at a fairly standard pace. Some, however, face insurmountable obstacles early on, and parents are forced to recalculate and innovate to navigate the course.

At some point,  the obstacles differentiate greatly, and one adult's obstacle course looks very different from another's. 

Some people enjoy navigating through obstacles; others despise it. Maybe it's why some adults manage to appear happy most of the time, while others are plain down grumpy every time they hit an obstacle. In my lenthening experience of being an adult, I've discovered that, on my course at least, obstacles are everywhere. I can either embrace it, or hate my life.

All that to preface how I set out for Aldi and ended up at Audi.

 ......

I planned my day:

Take child to Grandma's,  pick up Walmart order, get a huge amount of buns at Aldi, go home.

Obstacle 1: Thanks to Craig's dad reminding him that we had the Expedition scheduled for some work at the repair shop, my Big Vehicle was absent.  I remembered this when I was ready to load my children into it.

Recalculate.

Plan B: Take Toyota Corolla.  All children to Grandma's.  Get Things. Bring things home. Empty car. Retrieve children. 

Obstacle 2: The children who were supposed to be sitting calmly in the car waiting for their mother were, well, not sitting calmly.

Recalibrate. 

Children exit car. Children wait in line, get in car one at a time. Buckle in. Keep your bodies to yourself. Thank you.

Obstacle 3: Forget to add air to tire. Oh well, it will be okay. It's still plump. It's not that far. It'll be fine.

Execute Plan B.  Walmart? Check. Aldi? Check.

Look at tire.

Oh, duds and bummers.

I can't drive home on a pancake! At least it was a little plumper than a crepe- I could limp somewhere to get air. 

But where

Can I find air?

It's all around 

Yet can't be found. 

"Hey, sir!" I said to the guy parked beside me. "Where is the closest place I can find air for my tire?"

He looked around.  "Go to the dealership across the road. They will have air."

My courage and pride both felt a little wilted at that moment,  but it truly was the best option. So I drove my dusty, rusty, out-of-shape 2007 Toyota Corolla to the Audi dealership, past the blue and red and black grand, brand new vehicles,  and asked for air.

The fatherly gentleman at the desk was very kind, told me where to pull in for air, and served me himself.

"My car feels a bit out of place here," I said.

"Why is that?" 

"I've been driving it a long time!"

"You've gotten your money's worth out of it."

Yes, indeed.

And that is how my trip to Aldi ended up at Audi.

Now-off to face the next set of obstacles!

Our toddler, equipped and ready to face the obstacles!

Chain Cleaning

When I was young, my favorite church service was the monthly hymn sing.  Depending who the song leader was, he would state "We're going to do some chain singing." It was a copout, really,  for the song leader who didn't want to lead the acapella four-part congregational singing, so he could go sit down. That's how my 15-year-old self interpreted it anyway, with an inward groan.

The song leader would say the number of the hymn to be sung, then pronounce the name of someone in the group. That person would pick and lead the next song, two or three steps up or down from the given pitch, and pick the next person to pick the next song. And then the next person would pick the next person, and so on and so forth until 8:20 when the chain was broken and the Amen was said.

One day, I was tidying the house. At least I was making a noble attempt. Like I often do when Clutter has taken over, I just gathered an armful, put the stuff away, and wherever my Putting Away Journey took me, that became the new launching pad. I gathered 10 things, put them away, and wherever I landed, I launched from there, with 10 more things to put away. Pick up 10 things in the living room, take them to where they belong. If the last thing to put away was a cup, it goes to the dishwasher. While at the dishwasher,  make the counter better and gather all the trash. While at the trash can, gather the shoes on the floor and take them to their home. While at the shoe closet, pick up the dirty socks and take them to the hamper in the bathroom.  I realized I was chain cleaning!

Kinda like chain singing,  in chain cleaning, the last place decides the next place, and the stuff in that place determines the next spot to tidy.

The short-term goal is to make a small difference in a small place. 

Eventually,  the whole house looks So Much Better.

Chain cleaning may not be the most efficient way to clean a house, but it's an excellent way to display the Big Difference that a making a series of Small Differences can make.

Go make a small difference,  somewhere-anywhere.

It just may start a chain reaction. 

Better yet, snag some teammates,  and do some chain singing while you chain clean.

Tra-la-la!

Teeth of Different Value

Two sons each lost a tooth.

One son misplaced his newly lost tooth. "Oh no! Now it will never be part of my collection!" 

One son said yes, his mother could have his newly lost tooth.  And yes, she could throw it away.  "I just like to give it to The Fairy," he said.

The Fairy took the tooth, bent over and gave the son a kiss. Then she flew the little tooth to the trash can.

The End.

image from pixabay.com

The Shoe Saga

Four kids and one mother, all packed into one Expedition,  went on an expedition.  

En route to Destination, it was discovered that one kid had no shoes.

A call was made to another mother of different kids. "Hey, are you going today? Got any shoes? Please?"

Shoes were brought and attached to the unshoed kid.

Much tromping and stomping through woods and adventureland was done and pleasure was experienced. 

Borrowed shoes were returned. 

Four kids and one mother, all packed into one Expedition,  returned from the expedition.

En route to home, it was discovered that three kids had no shoes.

A call was made to the park. "Got any shoes? Please?"

An additional trip was made to the park office a few days later.

"I see some shoes that belong at our house!" said the mother.

"Ah, yes, please take them!" said the lady. "At least you're not the only one!" she said, pointing to the second pair of shoes.

"Those are ours also," said the mother.

The End.

Are adults destined to be Boring, Stale, and Mad About Life?

I had one of those startle moments recently, when I realized that I was almost 20 when Caitlin Clark was born.

I don't usually talk sports, because two sentences in, it becomes obvious I have No Clue what I'm talking about. 

However,  Caitlin Clark became famous while attending the University about 15 minutes from my house, and I know people who have talked to her,  so I started paying attention.  I watched to see who she is and how she plays, and how her teammates reportedly love her- because she's that kind of a person.

I admire Caitlin's enthusiasm about life, her strength,  and her stamina. Her ability to fight well, yet speak highly of the team who defeated them is noteworthy.

I look at her amazing smile, and silently pray that her smile survives- that nothing and nobody is brutal enough to destroy that beautiful smile.

I hope that Adult Life doesn't crush her.  

.....

When I was entering adulthood,  I fought it with my whole being. 

I even wrote a paper about all the reasons I didn't want to graduate into adulthood. I don't remember what words I used, but the idea was that most adults are Boring, Stale, and/or Mad About Life.

A couple decades later, and I think, to the current pre-adults around me, I probably seem just about as Boring,  Stale, and Mad About Life as any adult ever was.

Truth is, I'm tired. Exhausted.  Stale.

I want to sleep and do Really Boring Things, because there's this whole buzz of constant excitement around me all the time. I crave quiet. I read posts from The Dull Men's Club, for fun. A Boring Day is a Good Day- that's my motto!! How utterly boring. 

I try really hard not to (because, amidst all the things I can NOT control, I have to practice what I teach my kids: "Your response is YOUR responsibility!"), but some days, I DO feel really Mad About Life.  Grief has slashed my heart to pieces, and some days, I find myself still struggling to pick up the pieces. Navigating subtle OR obvious special needs of children has kept me awake more nights than you know. I feel so much more fear than I did as a child,  even though my trust has deepened. I feel a lot of emotions about the actions of people who may or may not have a direct effect on my life.  I have to consciously "clean my glasses" so I can see life around me outside the filter of my own experiences. 

I TRY not to let all this stuff make me grumpy, but I am quite certain that, to my former self, I would hit the "Mad About Life" list. On some days, anyway.

Here's my Challenge of the Day-

To the pre-adults: Hug an adult today- they probably need it. 

To the adults: Smile occasionally,  sleep when you can, and remember to clean your glasses.

To all: Be cheerleaders, across the span of age.

.....

One more outstanding thing about Caitlin Clark: 

After being selected as #1 pick for the WNBA, she was asked about her goals. Instead of focusing on the competition and The Win, her answer focused on continuing to enjoy the game, as she moves forward. 

I want to enjoy each step of my journey,  too.

Celebrating the Family of God- 10 things I love about my church

 

The "family of God" is much larger than our church. But these ten things are about our church, in particular. 

1. We meet in an old church building with  stained glass windows.

2. We're an odd mix of traditional, old-fashioned,  and modern.

3. The people make incredible food. Seriously,  the potlucks never disappoint. I think I always take the worst food there 😆 

4. The children have some wonderful Sunday School teachers who have invested many hours into developing a through-the-Bible interactive study.

5. Bible memory is encouraged and rewarded, for the kids.

6. Our singing is a lot better than it was 10 years ago 😉. The building acoustics help, too.

7. Adult Ladies' Sunday School Class. We're working our way through Romans right now, and I am thoroughly enjoying the study.

8. We practice some New Testament teachings that many find strange and many more deem unnecessary. Washing each others' feet. Anointing with oil for the sick. Heads covered for the women. Fasting is encouraged.  

9. We do fun things together. 

10. We serve each other. We have had so many meals cooked for us, through Baby Season, and we've cooked a few for others. There is willingness to pitch in and get things done. Sometimes,  as in most groups, there has to be some extra motivational encouragement,  depending on the project,  but I'm thankful for the work-together attitude. 

There are more things, but there's my Ten Things List!

Celebrating Life on the Farm- 10 things I love about scratching out a living from the dirt

Being on a farm is not where I envisioned myself in my adulthood,  and parts of it I will never love. But this isn't about that; it's about the parts I do love.

1. Wide open spaces

2. Animals

3. Few neighbors

4. Beautiful sunrises and sunsets

5. Quiet places

6. Big skies

7. Fresh air

8. Green things

9. Educational opportunities 

10. The Farmer Himself

Celebrating Marriage: 10 Reasons I Love Being Married to Craig

I wish I didn't feel any hesitation to put this out there for people to read, but I do.

We have single friends whom we honor.

We have friends whose marriages are brutal and broken.

We have friends whose marriage partners have died, and the hole in their lives is massive. 

We also have a marriage that is far from perfect,  because WE are far from perfect. 

Yet, perhaps it is because of these things, I write. 

Marriage was designed to be beautiful,  and, even in its imperfection, I want to celebrate the love of marriage. 

1. I was single for 30 years. I actually loved that life. But it gets lonely after awhile. Loneliness exists within marriage, too- but it's different.  I have My Someone. I love having My Someone. 

2. Have you ever lived with a hormonal woman? It ain't easy (so I hear🤣). But, 4 babies and several miscarriages later, my husband has survived my hormonal roller coaster,  and somehow, he has managed to love me through it. I love that he was my companion through it all, and went with me to every single early OB appointment- I am SO THANKFUL he was there for the hard ones. (We are both enjoying having my hormones a bit more stable again 🙃)

3. If you are a person of wildly passionate thoughts and ideas and emotions, I hope you have a stable person, somewhere, to help keep you grounded and balanced. Craig's name means "rock," and I love that he is my rock.

4. I love that our children run to him with shining eyes and big smiles, when he comes in the door.

5. If you know Craig,  you know that he may not be loud in a crowd, but he holds opinions that are stubbornly unswerving. I love that he has been willing to bend, ever so slightly, on things like occasionally driving a car instead of a truck, and drinking coffee (iced, but it's coffee!😉). 

6. Speaking of coffee, I lived the first 30 years of my life with the delusion that what married people do every morning is have great conversation over coffee. It has taken 10+ years to get there, but I love having someone to converse with over coffee. I'll gladly ice it! It's still not a daily thing for us, like it was (almost) for my parents,  to sit and have a long chat over coffee. But progress is progress!!

7. My favorite of Craig's shirts is the one that says, "Don't panic- Dad will fix it." As a homeowner when I was single, I considered writing a book "On Being My Own Handyman."  I love that my husband is capable of fixing just about anything that can be fixed with a little welding, a little warping, or a little wood. He makes it look so easy.

8. Touch is a touchy subject with me. I wasn't touched much for 30 years.  Sometimes, I like being touched; sometimes, I don't.  With four kids, by the time Craig comes in, there are days that every single one of my touch receptors is on fire, and I don't want to touch or be touched.  I love having access to touch when I need it; I also love that I'm allowed to say, "Not right now, please" when I need a break. I especially love having a foot warmer. 😁

9. Being married to a man who is able and willing to do just about anything for just about anyone is wonderful- and hard.  I love that he's that kind of man, even though I get kinda selfish about sharing him sometimes.  I have a whole new appreciation for, say, pastors' wives, who constantly share their husbands all around the community a whole lot more than I share mine.  I love that he's willing to help others when the opportunity arises- it's why we're here.

10. Craig and I are very different persons.  It's not a bad thing.  Both of us have expanded our minds and grown our hearts a little larger, because of the differences in our fields of knowledge and interests.  He reads more, sings more, and pulls the keys more often than he did 12 years ago.  I know a whole lot more about cattle and tractors and how things work than I did 12 years ago.  I love working with him in our meat business, because we sharpen each other's ideas- I work mostly with the marketing part of it, and he designs and builds heavy duty carts to haul the grills and freezers.  I love being married to my teammate, and I love that we get to each help the other become a better person.

After we became engaged, people came out of the woodwork to tell us that marriage is hard work.  I mean, they weren't wrong, because relationships just ARE that way.  Almost 12 years later, I'm still saying that LIFE is hard work, and I'm so thankful to have someone to do the hard things with.

And THAT is why I'm celebrating marriage.

p.s. Yes, I had Craig's permission before I said all this stuff about him 😉

Photo from our wedding day, August 25, 2012.

Many thanks to Portraits by Jeanna and all the others who helped preserve our memories from that day!

Criticism

 I'm digging up an old word sketch tonight.

Actually,  it's a song I wrote probably two decades ago. 

I don't remember the specifics of why I wrote these words, but every now and then, they echo through my heart.

...........

There are those who criticize

I cringe beneath condemning eyes

I want to run away and hide

Or scream, and tell how hard I tried 

Search me, oh God, and know my heart 

Search me, oh God, examine every part

Search me, oh God, and see if there be

Some wicked way in me

Opinions and expectations 

Can multiply life's frustrations

Whom should I please? What should I do?

Oh, God- I want to please you!!

Search me, oh God, and know my heart 

Search me, oh God, examine every part

Search me, oh God, and see if there be

Some wicked way in me

Word Jewelry, and foot-tapping insecurities

I want to write more. 

At this season of life, I don't really care if anyone reads what I write, and I don't care as much as I should care, what they think if they do stumble upon my words. I'm not really writing for anyone else; I'm writing for me. It's what I do for fun (I'm weird that way).

Some days, however,  I let myself wonder if I could get paid for my "word jewelry" (strings of words that have been fashioned into something of beauty and value). 

It's only when I start thinking about writing for other people that I start to feel insecure about my writing. While I typed that last sentence,  my left foot started tapping frantically.

I want to write for money, but I don't want to have to care about what people think about what I write. 

Solve that!!

Out of these insecurities,  I wrote this:

---------

If I would write

Would I write right?

Would the words be worth the read?

Would the reader wonder why I wrote,

Or read what I wrote, with wonder?

If I would write, why would I write?

And why would I write what I write?

Because the words in my head, they just might explode

If they're trapped there forever, with nowhere to go.

I can write what I cannot speak,

When I write, I can delete.

When my brain fires faster than my tongue can translate,

The mords get wixed up as they fly out the gate.

But as I write, the jibberish brainwave jello starts to mold,

I can leave it and come back 'til I get the story told.

I'm terrible at following the rules of the words-

There are so many, it's really absurd.

 

I Capitalize As I Please,

Because Naming Things is one of the Small Glees

Of life that I choose to savor,

At the risk of taking me out of favor

With the Word Lords.

I mix meters and metaphors and poetry forms.

(I also think forms should rhyme with worms.)

Who writes these rules, anyway?

Must I keep them? Who's to say?

Sometimes when I write, I pull out the stoppers.

I verb-alize nouns, and scandalize Propers.

I comma with Oxford, AP or, random.

Some things I write are really quite dumb.

 

But I write, 

Because the words I write might

Make someone's day bright

Or help someone see 

Something differently. 

But mostly,  

I write for me.

The End.

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