Fragments

My heart feels full today. It's full of a rainbow of emotions, conversations, longings, hopes, disappointments, dreams, things I miss, rage, sorrow, excitement, anticipation....it's full. And as I sat down to write today I only had fragments of each thing I'm holding to express.

One more month of pizza delivering crap. One more month. We can do this.

I read in a book over the weekend that a person who typically binges on crunchy or salty types of foods may have a lot of undealt with anger and frustration that they need to feel and get out. Which explained a lot for me and some of my past habits with food.

I ordered Tommy's birthday party invitations yesterday. And I have a small stash of things as plans go underway for the fun party I'm putting together for him in July. I've been looking at why it's so important for me to "celebrate" him in the ways that I do.

Someone I love said these words to me this weekend: "I want my life back. I don't want to waste any more years." And my heart is so full with that, I can barely contain myself.

Took a new step at church on Sunday. I put myself on a list to be available to mentor/pray for/befriend a young woman just graduating high school and entering college (or something other than college). I'm wondering what this will look like and curious who the Lord will pair me up with.

I've been missing my mom a lot lately. So much that it hurts. And it feels out of the ordinary somewhat for me to ache for her this time of the year as my grief has had familiar cycles when it comes to missing her. Something about where I am in life right now is making my heart ache so. I just long for her to be here with me and she's not and can't be.

Memorial Day felt lonely and ordinary. I did laundry and washed dishes and played with Tommy. I missed the event we have gone to the last several years and knew I could have gone even though Todd had to work. Yesterday just felt sad and empty and I felt the absence of what once was.

"God's scandalous and disruptive response to our hatred transforms fury into gratitude and deadness into life." A quote from the book Bold Love by Dan Allender. I've been thinking where I have experienced God lately there and where I currently hold "fury" and wonder how on earth it could EVER be transformed into gratitude.

Discovered a new addiction over the weekend. An addiction where I go to escape rather than have to feel and experience complete loss - still sitting with that. Though I know I'm not powerless here, I have found it very difficult to do what I need to do to put a stop to it. It comes with a cost and great risk.

Been dreaming about having another baby. And it feels terrifying to let myself dream here....

Trolleys, Airplanes and Cows - oh my!

On Saturday, I ventured out with a couple of friends to the San Antonio Children's Museum. I've never been there before, but the tickets were free and I thought it would be fun to do something out of the ordinary with Tommy.

There were trolleys to steer.
And phone calls to make.

We took a ride on a real airplane.
I made a new friend. (o:
And so did Tommy.
We did some shopping. (And I loved this store because an entire cart of food only cost us $178,000 of imaginary money - according to the checkout girl).
And then we did some cooking. Broccoli, sausage and corn - quite a combo.
Sadly, our experience was a bit tainted by all of the bigger kids running around. Tommy was pushed and shoved (right in front of me) and things were grabbed and taken away from him (also right in front of me!). My inner mama-bear came out and I couldn't understand how older children can be so blatantly mean to kids who are obviously smaller than them. My poor baby couldn't understand why he couldn't play or why things were being taken away from him. I was in tears by the time we left because I couldn't explain why he couldn't do what he wanted.

I think we will try to go back on a weekday morning maybe when it's quieter and less crowded. We did have some moments of fun there though - super fun place to play.

What do you do when you're in a public place with bigger kids who don't play nice?

I've Learned

I've learned that I have needs. And in my neediness is where I have discovered my beautiful desperation for God. I've learned that to be in need is glorious and how I've been created.

I've learned that when you piss evil off, evil comes back at you relentlessly. And sometimes it's laughable and sometimes it nearly takes you out.

I've learned that when you quit believing lies that you always believed about yourself, that when hurts come and you no longer are turning to those lies, there is nothing left to do but just hurt. And that is a whole new level of sucking.

I've learned what it feels like not to hate myself anymore and it feels good.

I've learned what the invitation looks like and sounds like to hate myself again, except I'm no longer accepting that invitation.

I've learned how to choose to feel something rather than to numb out. And I cry more, but I'm not doing damage. And that feels like victory.

I've learned what it's like to feed my body three times a day when it's hungry and stop when it's full.

I've learned that my weight loss is slow, but it's coming. And that is OKAY.

I've learned how to stop and ask myself what's going on when I'm wanting to snack or munch or binge. And when I've stopped to look at what's going on, I've found a lot of anger inside of me and for some reason I've been surprised by that.

I've learned that exercise feels good and what it feels like to be "in shape" and not breathless after a work-out.

I've learned that I love to dance and I'm good at it.

I've learned that I am not just a fighter for me and my story, but all of this is equipping me to help others fight, and fight for others who aren't able to. And exploring what that might look like for me feels overwhelming and good at the same time.

I've learned that I have choices. Lots of choices.

I've learned that struggling is good. Because it doesn't matter how much I struggle, it just matters HOW I struggle. And I struggle well!

I've learned that when I am brave enough to reach out, there is someone there to grasp my hand.

This IS Real

Please take a few minutes today to go read my friend Libby's post. It will be worth every minute of your time it takes to read it. Please don't turn your head the other way - I've realized how I can do that a lot with things that feel this enormously tragic.

Seriously: This is Real

I am joining her in raising awareness about this issue and am prayerfully considering what I can do to do help. There are simple and tangible ways to come alongside others who are helping here.

Thank you.

The giant-scary-scorpion-monster

When Todd and I got engaged I told him that there were a few things he needed to know about me if he was going to marry me and commit to the forever thing. One of those things was that I absolutely hated doing dishes and he might have to do them on occasion (or all the time). And another thing was that I absolutely, positively hated bugs. And that he was going to have to take care of any and all bug situations that would invade our married life. (And yes, there were other things of more deeper and transparent nature, but those things are kind of none of your business.)

So that being said.....

It was an ordinary Monday night. Todd was still out delivering pizzas and I was home alone as usual. I decided to do my work-out and then watch the re-aired episode of Real Housewives of New Jersey. (So addicted to that drama).

I was minding my own business and had just gotten out of the shower when I saw this in our big garden tub.
Pretty sure I screamed out loud all by myself.

I ran to get my phone and called Todd to let him know there was an emergency at home and he needed to leave immediately and rescue from the giant-scary-scorpion-monster. He was close to being off, but he assured me that there was no way the scorpion could climb up the tub and it probably had climbed in through the drain in the tub.

Those words weren't exactly comforting and I'm officially never taking a bath in there again lest some scary thing come crawling out of the drain to kill me.

While on the phone with him I decided to spray it with something. I found our wasp and hornet spray and figured if it could kill a wasp, an extra serving of it might take care of a scorpion. After I sprayed, I screamed again, this time in Todd's ear who is on the other end of the phone. And I just pissed it off and it started running around acting like it was drunk. Sadly, wasp and hornet spray will not take care of a scorpion if you wanted to know.

I wasn't convinced that it couldn't climb out of a bathtub so I grabbed what I needed out of the bathroom and made sure that sucker was going to stay in there.
Yes, that is a towel covering the opening of the door. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

When Todd got home he did his heroic thing and killed the giant-scary-scorpion-monster and proceeded to tell me that he's seen them bigger and this was nothing. (Well, I've seen them smaller and this one was GIANT in my book of scary bugs!)

I'm grateful that he's living up to his bug-killing commitment. Otherwise, we'd have some serious problems - like not being able to get into our bathroom.

My Waterboy

Tommy has been a water baby since he had his first bath. Now, he is a water boy. He LOVES the water.
And fortunately, his birthday falls smack dab in the middle of summer. Perfect for lots of water related activities. His favorite thing these days is manning the water hose and getting himself soaked in the process.
And mama is officially in party-planning mode. My lists are made. My ideas are carefully planned out. I've thoughtfully selected my invitations and plans for everything are underway. Last year's theme was the wild, wild west. And this year....I'm thinking wet n' wild.
(Maybe my newest, most favorite picture EVER).

The Buzzcut

So here's the thing.

Tommy's hair grows really fast. We got his first hair-cut when he was nine months old, and since then, we've had to go get it cut almost every other month to maintain the massive amounts of hair this kid can grow.

But. Do you know how pricey kid hair-cutting places can be? After all is said and done, including tip, it's $20 every time I go. And I'm pretty sure we spent more money on his hair cuts last year than on my one trip the salon. *sigh*

And here's another thing.

I choose to go to the pricey kid-hair-cutting places because Tommy hates getting his hair cut. He acts like someone is trying to kill him, and the whole process is a horribly torturous experience for him. We have yet to be able to get through to him that no one is hurting him. And even though I could take him to some cheapie place and pay under half the price for what I pay, I figure that at the kid-hair-cutting places, they are used to screaming toddlers and fewer people will look at me weird.

So yeah. It's kind of all about me and being self-conscious about what others are thinking about my screaming-bloody-murder child.

All this being said, Tommy was in need of another hair cut. And $20 to spare - have, we did not.

(Why I felt the need to say that last sentence like Yoda, I have NO clue.)

SO. We decided it would be a grand idea to give it a go ourselves. We've been parents for almost two years. We've got this, we thought. Todd manned the clippers and I held my 35 (all muscle) pound child on my lap.

And oh heavens.

To start, we used the wrong size clipper extension. And it was too short. And sadly, once you start, you can't stop. Doing it ourselves was way worse, because now we were the bad guys and not the ones rescuing him from the mean hair-cutting people. Now we ARE the mean hair-cutting people. AND I was covered from head to toe in his hair by the end of it. *sigh*

So yes. Mildly disastrous and I'm not so sure we'll brave this again. At least until he's over his fear of hair cuts and clippers.
He is practically bald. Though we did save $20 and only at the expense of our sanity.
I am however, very grateful that his hair grows super fast. In two weeks time he will look like a normal boy again and not like he's about to enlist in the army.
And if you'll excuse me, I've got to go find a hat or two for my son. (He will actually wear them and keep them on). My budget for those hats you ask?

Yup. $20 bucks.