I made a big mistake this week. Actually, it all started as a brilliant idea: yesterday while the kids were gone to Vacation Bible School, I decided I would clean out their rooms and throw some junk away. I filled up two large trash bags with odds and ends from their rooms--wads of bubble wrap, broken pencils, cheap McDonald's toys, used-up coloring books, artwork (which, in Perrin's case, involved mostly stick figures with butts), old birthday cards, empty water bottles. This is the definition of trash, correct? I bagged everything up, and because my hands were full with some games and books that belonged elsewhere in the house, I stuck the bags in the hallway outside the kids' bedrooms and told myself I'd come and get them in a few minutes. That was my big mistake.
After putting the other things away, I remembered I needed to move a load of laundry from the washer to the dryer. Then I took a peek at my work email and realized I needed to respond to something. Then I looked outside and saw that my poor gardenias were turning brown and wilting, so I watered them. While I was outside, I saw that the hummingbird feeder needed to be refilled. It was like a terrible grown-up version of "If you give a mouse a cookie." Then it was time to get the kids.
You can probably guess what happened. The kids saw all of their beloved possessions bagged up, ready for the trash can. Pandemonium ensued. They both sobbed as they attempted to rip open the bags and rescue their treasures. I mentally kicked myself for forgetting the stupid bags. Perrin held up a styrofoam cup with a hole in it and asked WHY I would dare to throw away the megaphone he made five years ago. Clearly, I'm a monster.
Fortunately, a lot of the stuff I'd taken from their rooms was hidden under about fifty sheets of bubble wrap (don't ask... Perrin's a hoarder), so even though I had to dig out a few things that they noticed, I managed to actually get some of the junk out to the trash can. Success! ...Or so I thought. For the next 24 hours, the kids kept noticing things that were missing from their rooms, and the tears would start all over again. Perrin can never seem to remember what he did at co-op or Royal Rangers an hour after the fact, but he apparently had a mental map of every piece of trash strewn about his bedroom floor. "Mom, where is the blue cord? It was very important to me! Mom, there was an envelope sitting on top of my dresser! That wasn't trash! Mom, I liked that crumpled-up paper bag!" I drew the line at the paper bag, but I did end up retrieving some things from the big smelly trash can. FIVE TIMES. I can't decide if that means I'm compassionate or just a big wuss.
I know every parent can probably relate. Kids never want to throw anything away, and as cute as their little drawings and crafts are, there comes a point when you have to say enough is enough. Just take it from me and don't forget to get rid of the dang evidence.
Thursday, June 28, 2018
Saturday, May 19, 2018
The bike bug
A few weeks ago I bought myself a bike, and I've really been getting into it! You know those people you see down on the river trail hunched over their road bikes, huffing and puffing and sweating as they push their muscles to the limit to achieve maximum speed? Yeah, that's not me. I bought a bright purplish-pink cruiser with a basket and a cup holder and giant seat for my big... well, let's just say it's comfy. It has back pedal brakes, just like the bike I had when I was a kid, and no fancy gears to mess with. All I need is a bell, and I'll be all set!
The fun thing is that the kids have really been getting into riding their bikes too. We've enjoyed bike rides along the river trail and to Two Rivers Park as well as daily rides through our neighborhood. Brielle is doing great riding like a big girl (no training wheels), and I think she loves the attention. Everywhere we go, people smile and say "Awwww" when they see this tiny cyclist with her unicorn helmet. Perrin told me yesterday that riding his bike feels like a roller coaster ride. I'm all in favor of free thrills.
Even though the kids like riding bikes, sometimes I'm the one trying to convince them to go for a ride with me.
Me: Hey kids, can we go for a bike ride now?
Perrin: Maybe in a few minutes, Mom. I'm kind of busy.
Me: (Waits two seconds) Okay, now?
Perrin: Mom! We can go soon, okay? Just be patient.
Me: (Whining) I wanna go now!
Thankfully, they're good sports and are just about always up for a bike ride with Mom.
Last night we were biking at Two Rivers and it was starting to get dark, so we turned back. We were nearly back to the bridge when we went through the forest, which was significantly darker than the path we'd been on through the open field where all the deer were hanging out. Fireflies were glowing everywhere--it felt like a magical, enchanted forest straight out of a fairy tale.
I haven't been able to quite put my finger on what it is about being on my bike that brings me so much joy, but I think in a way it makes me feel like a kid again--in a good way. It feels like freedom and fun and energy and exploration. It feels like fresh, clean air and a sense of being alive. It feels like quality family time. And this morning it feels a tiny bit like soreness too. But that's okay. I love my bike.
The fun thing is that the kids have really been getting into riding their bikes too. We've enjoyed bike rides along the river trail and to Two Rivers Park as well as daily rides through our neighborhood. Brielle is doing great riding like a big girl (no training wheels), and I think she loves the attention. Everywhere we go, people smile and say "Awwww" when they see this tiny cyclist with her unicorn helmet. Perrin told me yesterday that riding his bike feels like a roller coaster ride. I'm all in favor of free thrills.
Even though the kids like riding bikes, sometimes I'm the one trying to convince them to go for a ride with me.
Me: Hey kids, can we go for a bike ride now?
Perrin: Maybe in a few minutes, Mom. I'm kind of busy.
Me: (Waits two seconds) Okay, now?
Perrin: Mom! We can go soon, okay? Just be patient.
Me: (Whining) I wanna go now!
Thankfully, they're good sports and are just about always up for a bike ride with Mom.
Last night we were biking at Two Rivers and it was starting to get dark, so we turned back. We were nearly back to the bridge when we went through the forest, which was significantly darker than the path we'd been on through the open field where all the deer were hanging out. Fireflies were glowing everywhere--it felt like a magical, enchanted forest straight out of a fairy tale.
I haven't been able to quite put my finger on what it is about being on my bike that brings me so much joy, but I think in a way it makes me feel like a kid again--in a good way. It feels like freedom and fun and energy and exploration. It feels like fresh, clean air and a sense of being alive. It feels like quality family time. And this morning it feels a tiny bit like soreness too. But that's okay. I love my bike.
Tuesday, January 2, 2018
2017--the good, the bad, and the death of dreams
It's been a long time since I've posted anything here. I was thinking today about the past year and how much has happened and what a great year it was. I started forming a blog post in my mind of all the things I'm thankful for from 2017--Trey finally getting hired on full time by BCBS; a family trip to Kentucky and, more recently, Disney World; and our biggest news--a new house. It's been a good year, and I'm incredibly thankful. But as I started forming this blog post in my mind, I realized that it was an incomplete picture of the past year. I'm guilty of the same thing most of us are guilty of--I tend to share only the highlights on social media, which makes my life probably seem much better/easier than it really is. I don't do this on purpose--I'm not trying to impress anyone or paint a false picture. But I'm by nature an optimist, and I simply prefer to dwell on the happy things.
Even so, there's some benefit to acknowledging that my life, like everyone else's, is full of bumps and dead ends and disappointments. Yes, I'm thankful for Trey's job situation and for the family fun we've had and for our new, spacious house and for a million other little things. It would be easy for me to announce the good parts without explaining all the difficulties that led us to those points. Take Trey's job, for example. Working in the IT industry means lots of risk of outsourcing, downsizing, etc. We've been married for nearly 12 years and have dealt with almost non-stop tumult associated with his jobs. For over a year before he finally got hired on to his current full-time position, he was a contractor with no benefits (meaning no health insurance for our family). I won't go into all the long and boring details, but let's just say I was stressed to the max. I'm breathing easier now, and I have a new sense of gratitude for job stability and awesome perks like being able to go to the doctor when I'm sick. But it's certainly been a long, hard road leading to this point, and I harbor no delusions that we'll never experience job-related upheaval again. There's a lot of good to celebrate, but there's been a lot of bad to wade through too.
Or take the situation with our house. I'm really thankful for it, and we're enjoying buying new furniture and getting it set up just right. But most people who hear our good news and see our pictures of it probably have no idea that this blessing is only possible because of the very painful death of another dream. For the past few years, our goal has been to build a house on land we own. We've spent countless hours researching, getting quotes, meeting with contractors, etc. We poured over home plans and spent almost $1,000 working with an architect to design the perfect plan. We spent another $400 or so on a perc test. We've paid hundreds in property taxes the last few years. And all of our attempts to build ended in failure. It seemed like nothing worked out right, no matter how hard we tried. We dealt with contractors who would fail to call us back, or contractors who would meet with us several times to start the process only to tell us they wouldn't be available after all. We saved and saved money only to realize it wasn't going to be quite enough. We tried to sell our house only for it to sit on the market for nine months while we kept it spotlessly clean in hopes that a buyer was just around the corner. We finally admitted defeat, and it was heart-crushing. But I had to let that dream die to see what else God might have in store for us. I'm content with where we landed, but it's not the path I thought we would take, and it wasn't without pain and disappointment. By contrast, the buying and selling process that allowed us to move into our new home a few weeks ago was an absolute breeze, as if the path had been perfectly laid out for us. I don't completely understand it, but this was simply meant to be. It's made it a little easier to let go of my former dream to make room for a new dream. I'm excited to see how God uses us in this house and in this neighborhood. But in the midst of all the joy, there is some sadness too as I continue to release my own plans and desires.
I've been thinking a lot about this "death of a dream" concept because it seems that most people I know are experiencing it too in some form. Maybe someone is desperate for a new relationship or a baby or a new job or a house or some other good thing. Maybe it seems like everyone else has it, whatever "it" is. I can think of an area of my life besides the house thing where I'm struggling to let go of another dream. This particular dream may come to fruition someday, but for now it seems to be the wrong timing. Letting go of it for now doesn't mean I'm letting go of it forever, but it's still hard. But like I said, I'm an optimist. And sometimes letting go of a dream means allowing room for doing whatever God wants me to do or being wherever He wants me to be right now.
So, yes, 2017 has been an amazing, wonderful year. And it's been a painful, difficult year. And probably 2018 will be more of the same. I'm trying to hold my dreams loosely and be flexible because the coming year almost certainly won't go as planned (for any of us). So here's to 2018 and all the great unknowns! May we forever be thankful for every dying dream that leads us to exactly where we're meant to be, and may we trust the One who holds our dreams, sees our pain, and knows better than to give us everything we desire.
Even so, there's some benefit to acknowledging that my life, like everyone else's, is full of bumps and dead ends and disappointments. Yes, I'm thankful for Trey's job situation and for the family fun we've had and for our new, spacious house and for a million other little things. It would be easy for me to announce the good parts without explaining all the difficulties that led us to those points. Take Trey's job, for example. Working in the IT industry means lots of risk of outsourcing, downsizing, etc. We've been married for nearly 12 years and have dealt with almost non-stop tumult associated with his jobs. For over a year before he finally got hired on to his current full-time position, he was a contractor with no benefits (meaning no health insurance for our family). I won't go into all the long and boring details, but let's just say I was stressed to the max. I'm breathing easier now, and I have a new sense of gratitude for job stability and awesome perks like being able to go to the doctor when I'm sick. But it's certainly been a long, hard road leading to this point, and I harbor no delusions that we'll never experience job-related upheaval again. There's a lot of good to celebrate, but there's been a lot of bad to wade through too.
Or take the situation with our house. I'm really thankful for it, and we're enjoying buying new furniture and getting it set up just right. But most people who hear our good news and see our pictures of it probably have no idea that this blessing is only possible because of the very painful death of another dream. For the past few years, our goal has been to build a house on land we own. We've spent countless hours researching, getting quotes, meeting with contractors, etc. We poured over home plans and spent almost $1,000 working with an architect to design the perfect plan. We spent another $400 or so on a perc test. We've paid hundreds in property taxes the last few years. And all of our attempts to build ended in failure. It seemed like nothing worked out right, no matter how hard we tried. We dealt with contractors who would fail to call us back, or contractors who would meet with us several times to start the process only to tell us they wouldn't be available after all. We saved and saved money only to realize it wasn't going to be quite enough. We tried to sell our house only for it to sit on the market for nine months while we kept it spotlessly clean in hopes that a buyer was just around the corner. We finally admitted defeat, and it was heart-crushing. But I had to let that dream die to see what else God might have in store for us. I'm content with where we landed, but it's not the path I thought we would take, and it wasn't without pain and disappointment. By contrast, the buying and selling process that allowed us to move into our new home a few weeks ago was an absolute breeze, as if the path had been perfectly laid out for us. I don't completely understand it, but this was simply meant to be. It's made it a little easier to let go of my former dream to make room for a new dream. I'm excited to see how God uses us in this house and in this neighborhood. But in the midst of all the joy, there is some sadness too as I continue to release my own plans and desires.
I've been thinking a lot about this "death of a dream" concept because it seems that most people I know are experiencing it too in some form. Maybe someone is desperate for a new relationship or a baby or a new job or a house or some other good thing. Maybe it seems like everyone else has it, whatever "it" is. I can think of an area of my life besides the house thing where I'm struggling to let go of another dream. This particular dream may come to fruition someday, but for now it seems to be the wrong timing. Letting go of it for now doesn't mean I'm letting go of it forever, but it's still hard. But like I said, I'm an optimist. And sometimes letting go of a dream means allowing room for doing whatever God wants me to do or being wherever He wants me to be right now.
So, yes, 2017 has been an amazing, wonderful year. And it's been a painful, difficult year. And probably 2018 will be more of the same. I'm trying to hold my dreams loosely and be flexible because the coming year almost certainly won't go as planned (for any of us). So here's to 2018 and all the great unknowns! May we forever be thankful for every dying dream that leads us to exactly where we're meant to be, and may we trust the One who holds our dreams, sees our pain, and knows better than to give us everything we desire.
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