Birthday blues

Have you ever had a zit in your nose? Not on your nose or beside your nose, but INSIDE your nose? If not, you’re lucky. If so, you know they suck. I have one right now. The self conscious side of me is happy that at least the blemish is where no one can see it. The practical side of me is miserable. It’s allergy season so I’m a sneezing, nose wiping mess. Every time I sniffle I’m reminded of that pesky little pimple. Ew. Ow. TMI? Sorry.

Have you ever had a sad day? You don’t really see it coming and you can’t exactly explain it but you also can’t deny it? I’m having one of those. It’s not the soul crushing devastation that I’m unable to cover up. It’s more of a subtle nagging in my heart. A little “sad tug”. I can put on a happy face and count my blessings (I will. I. AM. BLESSED) but deep down, I am sad today.

Today my boy turns 8. When we met him, he was 4. This will be the year that he will have spent more than half his life with our family. It’s not like he will be any more “ours” when the scales tip, but I’ve been waiting for this. Now that it’s here, I’m unexpectedly sad.

When we celebrated his 5th birthday we had known him less than a year. On birthday number 6 the “plan” was so up in the air we didn’t know what was going on. By birthday number 7 he was an offical part of our family. And now we have reached the birthday that will mark half his life in our home. It’s a day to celebrate! We will eat cake and give presents and sing and smile and have fun, but inside I will be kind of a little sad too.

Today I’m reminded of the beautiful tragedy that is adoption. Adoption is redemption and love and grace. It is also grief and loss. I don’t know how you get one with out the other. It’s a package deal. Today I am sad because of all I missed those first four years. The more I get to know this incredible kid, the more I am grieved by what I don’t know. I wasn’t there for the first steps and the first words and the first birthdays. And that makes me sad.

I get the feeling he might be a little sad too. Grieving his own stuff. So tonight, after the wrapping paper has been picked up and the candles have been blown out and the wishes have been made, we might talk a little about our sad. Just because it isn’t visible to the world doesn’t mean it isn’t there. You know, like a zit in your nose.


Celebrating Laundry

  I’ve lost my touch in the kitchen. To be fair, I’ve never been a great cook. In the last couple of years, the few skills I had have gone completely down the drain. Due to our work schedules, my husband beats me home most nights. Because he’s a great guy, he has taken over dinner duty. Because he’s taken over dinner duty, I’m out of practice. It’s really not a bad gig and I’m certainly not complaining, but on those occasions that I NEED to cook, I struggle. My current repertoire includes spaghetti, taco salad, quesadillas. That’s pretty much it, except for the really desperate nights when I’ve called ramen noodles and grilled cheese “dinner”. 

I am not a great homework mom.  At the end of the day they’re tired, I’m tired and the last thing I want to do is figure out how to do common core math. Did you know you can You Tube “how to do long division”? Siri is also a valuable tool. She can tell your son why vegetables are important when he has to write 4 reasons and the only one you can come up with is, “I think they have fiber.” I pay my daughter to read with her brother so we don’t have to lie on the nightly reading log. 

I do not have a green thumb. Not for lack of effort. I would love to have a big, beautiful garden. I think it’d be really neat to grow our own veggies. I’ve tilled and fertilized and fenced and weeded and hoed. I grow terrific weeds. And the rabbits really enjoy my green beans. I can keep annual potted plants alive until mid-July most years, then they’re goners. 

So, I’m a terrible cook, a rotten teacher and have a black thumb…but you guys, my laundry game is on point. I’ve had a system in place for a couple of years and it’s still working. It’s not perfect (I don’t believe in things like “sorting” or “ironing”) but it works great for our crew. It goes like this: every night (every. single. night) I gather up all the clothes from all the hampers. They all get tossed in the washer together. Brights, whites, denim, towels, all of it, I do not discriminate. I start the load at bedtime and in the morning it goes into the dryer. After the kids are in bed at night I fluff and fold and start that day’s clothes in the washer, starting the magical cycle all over again. Each kid has a basket for their clean clothes and they’re responsible for putting them away. Guys, it’s beautiful.  I mean, look at this magnificent rainbow tower of baskets filled with neatly folded clothes….


I could beat myself up over my lack of skills, or I can celebrate my successes. Today I choose to celebrate. Laundry. I will celebrate laundry because I’m nailing it. 

What about you? What are you really owning right now? Are you a master diaper changer? Are you a boss at bath time? Are you a gifted organizer? Go ahead and pat yourself on the back for what you’re great at. It’s better than kicking yourself in the pants for what you’re screwing up.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go match some socks. 

Meth, love and other exceptions

 You’ve heard it said, and likely quoted it yourself: “all things in moderation”. It’s true. Sunshine is great but too much and you’ll get a sunburn (says the fair skinned lass over here). Coffee is incredible but drink too much and you’ll get the jitters (trust me). Bacon is amazing but overdo it and you’ll clog your arteries (mmmm…bacon). All things in moderation. Yes, but.

I added an addendum years ago. My version has been “all things in moderation, except meth”. I guess I’m always looking for an exception to the rule. I said it as a lame joke but, duh, it’s true. Kids, meth is bad. If you don’t believe me, I know some folks that can convince you. Addiction is a force that can overpower a person and rob them of their happiness, their family, their life. Don’t dabble in it, don’t test it, and don’t think you’re the exception to the rule. Meth is bad. All things in moderation, except meth.

Today I’m amending my addendum. I’m not even sure if that’s legal or allowed but I’m doing it. I now proclaim “all things in moderation, except meth and loving people.” Meth and love. Opposite ends of the spectrum. Meth=not even once. Loving people=all the time. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? You simply cannot overuse love. It won’t get old or tired or used up or tattered or boring. You cannot overdose on love. You don’t have to be moderate with love.

The bible has much to say on the topic. Love with all your heart, soul, mind and strength. Love your enemies. Love your neighbor. Love fulfills the law. Love never fails. Love each other deeply. Love comes from God. Love is made complete in us. There is no fear in love. Love those who are foreigners. Love the Lord your God. By your love you will be known.

You can’t really mess up loving people. It’s never too late to love people. It’s never too early either. You can love people quietly and subtly. You can love people in big, obvious ways. You can love people from a distance. You can love people right in their face. I think the only way you can really screw it up is to not do it.

Other exceptions fall under the love umbrella. Mercy, grace, compassion, forgiveness. We can give them away freely because we have our own unending supply provided by God. No need to be stingy like you’re giving Halloween candy to greedy teenage trick or treaters. No moderation necessary. You can be as generous as you are with the leftovers at the end of a 2 day garage sale in hot, sticky July. You want some grace? Please, take it. Compassion for you? Here, it’s yours. Oh, you’re looking for some mercy, you say? I’ve got some right over here, all yours, no charge. We don’t need to take names or keep count or determine who is worthy (we aren’t really qualified to determine worthiness anyway, are we?) because it’s love and there’s no need to moderate love.

Here’s the other cool thing about love. God doesn’t hold back either. He calls us to love our enemies. The assumption there is that we will have enemies and we need to figure out how to love them anyway. That’s not how he loves us. He loves us like His children. He loves EVERYONE. Even that one guy/gal. You know the one. And even me. Weird, talkative, opinionated, frazzled, nail biting, stubborn, sarcastic, sinful Abbie. And even you, with all your own quirks and strange habits. We can leak love all over the place because God is constantly refilling us.

All things in moderation can apply to so many things. Sun and bacon and coffee and cleaning and shoes and cars and travel and exercise and spouses (one is all my husband can handle). But not loving people. Get out there and love the heck out of people!!!

And stay away from meth. Seriously.