I love this shirt. It says, "CALIFORNIA" all in caps. I feel like every summer I have a t-shirt that is THE shirt of the season. The shirt that eventually ends up faded, with a bleach spot, and stains from the normal everyday life of a mommy. The shirt eventually makes its way to the bottom drawer of the dresser transforming into a "sleep shirt."
Why do I love THIS shirt?
I discovered it on the sale rack at Old Navy. What's not to love about a sale?
It was marked "$6.99" which was acceptable, but rang up at $4.99. I loved it even more.
Its a bright and cheery orange. Perfect for summer.
The shirt makes its debut...
I wore the shirt on Thursday to a playdate at my new friend Lilli's house. She originates from California and I think she appreciated the shout out. The shirt now makes me think of new friends.
I wore the shirt the next day. Yes, I wore the exact same outfit unwashed, 2 days in a row-no shame. I wore it to honor my dear friend who is moving to California in 17 days. I think she liked my tribute. The shirt now reminds me of her.
I knew this shirt would be special when I found it on the overflowing sale rack. I even tried to find one or two more so I could share the love. The combination of the jam packed clearance items I was attempting to rifle through, and my 3 year old wildly pushing a stuffed dog in a doll stroller in circles around the sale racks (that is a story for another day) prevented me acquiring additional shirts.
I wanted to find a shirt for Michele to take on her journey to California. I wanted to find a shirt for Angie.
The shirt made me think of how she lived in California and loved it. I thought of her birthday next week, and how this shirt would make her smile because it will be a tough birthday for her without her grandma. I'll just have to find another way to make her smile.
Basically this IS the shirt of summer. Have you found your shirt yet?
Its Wednesday. Its 12:57 AM, and I am asking myself "WHY are you still awake!" I am restless. Tired for sure-but feeling restless has left me asking lots of "whys" while typing as quickly as I can so I can beat that clock and get to bed before 1:00AM. As if going to bed at 12:59AM will leave me more rested than going to bed at 1:01AM. I think 1:15 is more realistic. I read my bffs"No Not Me Mondays" list, inspired by MckMama, and sat here realizing, by the middle of the week-Wednesday I've got a whole lots of "whys." Wish I could trade them in for some "wise" answers, but oh well. I'll settle for getting all the "whys" out so they are not pounding away in my restless mind. Please join the "WHY" parade. Why, you might ask? Why not?
MY WEDNESDAY WHYS AT 1:00AM:
Why does anyone send their gold through the mail to “Cash4Gold?" Please tell me I am not the only one who has pondered this after this tempting commercial offer. And when you do send in your gold that turns out to be worth $1.34, do they really spend more than that in postage to mail out your “earnings”?
Why do people spend precious time, energy, and money to make beautiful creations and then post these creations on Etsy in blurry, horrible photos?
Why don’t I just call my landlord so he will come out and fix the leaky pipe underneath my sink, instead of emptying the small pool that has gathered in my collection bucket to then replace it for another collection?
Why is coffee on my mind more than water?
Why do people like Adam Lambert on American Idol so much?
Whyam I so judgmental?
Whycan't I stop thinking about that package of boneless, skinless chicken I trimmed last week that had 2 feathers on it?
Why do I stay up so late?
If we are in the “same boat” as moms, Why don’t more moms know we are rowing together?
I have not set an alarm clock for a few years now. Who needs to hear that annoying, startling, obnoxious beep or a strange song on the radio that somehow creeps into that dream you are having, when you can wake up to a little voice saying "OK mom, lets do snuggles and cuddles!" While it is super cute to have this face wake me up each morning with a cheery little greeting, I admit that many mornings I am wishing the greeting came at least an hour later.
This morning my 3 year old morning greeter chose a different approach. I started to wake up when I heard the familiar sound of a small set of feet creeping into my room. Instead of her usual proclamation of "snuggles and cuddles," I was met with, "Mommy, I have a surprise for you!" I slowly opened my eyes, curious and concerned at what "a surprise" might entail. There was that smiling, cheery little face with no pajama pants on and a naked butt, standing right next to my bed holding up a single square of toilette paper very proudly. She continued, "Its a little square! For you to wipe my bottom." Lucky me. I could see how proud my little morning person was of herself for taking off her pants, going to the bathroom, and delivering that amazing single square of toilette paper to my bedside. Even though wiping some one's butt is not my idea of the ideal "wake up call," I'll take it today.
Piles. LOTS of piles. A full weeks-plus of throw-up, diarrhea, fevers and sickness has put us a little behind schedule in the "keeping up on things" part of life. Before that it was strep (Happy Easter) and before that ear infections and fevers. So basically April was a blur. It actually sort of blurred together into one giant "sick day." And so the piles I began back in the beginning of April, the "we just moved" and the "unpacking" piles are still in their temporary homes, a month later. Only to be joined by piles of you name it-papers, laundry, items to distribute into other locations, items that need a home and have not yet been given one...etc. Why does it feel like the"we just moved and are still trying to get settled and unpacked" excuse seems to have an unofficial expiration date of 30 days? I feel like it should have a full year until expiration, so I have gone ahead and taken the liberty to renew it for 11 more months.
I have always been a piler. As a child, teen, young adult, college student, full adult-I have always had to pile everything on my bed to clean my room. Its just what I do. I pile everything on the bed, which becomes the mass distribution center. From there I usually form smaller piles on the floor until I am left with a few totally random and annoying items-you know the ones.
I always end up with a pile of papers and mail. I have a perfectly wonderful filing cabinet that is the eventual home of most of my "paper pile," but most of the organized items originate in the pile. I am not ashamed of this piling mentality. Its who I am. I am a piler. In college my roommate/bff and I regularly had a room filled with interesting and not so interesting piles. Random passerbyers often liked to comment on the "situation" especially around the dorm check time of the semester. They often shared blaringly obvious insights-"Wow, you have a lot to pick up..." You think? I will admit that many times the piles became a bit large, but we passed every single one of our dorm checks, unlike some of the neigh-sayers. Eat it dorm check trash talkers! Why? Because we knew how to clean...most of the time! I will admit we at times, had to take drastic measures and form piles in hidden locations to be dealt with later when time was of the essence. But for the most part, we are both excellent cleaners. We may not be the tidiest or most consistent cleaners, but we can clean circles around anyone...when we chose to, of course!
The thing about piles, is that you have to deal with them eventually. Sometimes things pile up, and I think that's ok. Piles happen. Its dealing with those heaps, and how you deal with them that's the important thing. There are certain piles you don't mind taking on. They are quick and easy, you know you can break them down fast...and then there are others that you are constantly putting at the bottom of the list because they feel huge, overwhelming, you get a headache just thinking about going through them. It doesn't matter how nicely you hide them or temporarily store them, because you know they are there. Until the pile is un-piled, it remains a pile.
I was thinking about what that means in my heart and mind. What do I have stored away, piled up that needs to dealt with? I can think of a few things. Sometimes its hard. Because sometimes when you start to go through a pile to sort things out, things get messier before they get better. The great thing is that we have access to the best professional organizer ever! He's even better than that guy on Oprah, Peter Walsh. I am always forgetting that He's (God, not Peter Walsh) pretty good at prioritizing, organizing, and dealing. Why is it so hard to really ask God to help us clean house, to sort through the piles, to deal with the mess?
I was listening to this Beth Moore videocast the other day, and the speaker was talking about hearing God's voice, and knowing His voice. She was comparing it to how it feels when that person in your life calls you and you just KNOW its them. By the ring, by the way they answer the phone. You just know. But you only know that, because you know them. You have spent time getting to know them, getting familiar with them and their voice.
I think I put God in this little box and then expected Him to do huge things on demand, and when its convenient for me. I don't even know what to say but that, but that.
"Jesus never reacted in anger to sinners who knew they were sinners. He confined his anger for sinners who thought they were somehow exempted from judgment because their particular vices were hidden in their religiosity. It's just not the case; neither is it for us. May we vigilantly guard our hearts! May we constantly come back to the Lord and ask him to wash us clean, make us pure, and make us wise. And may we never lose the simplicity of one heart pouring itself out in love onto its Beloved..." -excerpt from interview with worship leader/song writer Aaron Keyes
(This is what I was listening to when I wrote this. Great idea Ang, since I am always listening to someting!)
I am in pain today. I have a throat infection. It hurts so bad to swallow. What started out as a small sore in my throat has slowly crept across my whole throat. It hurts. I even got tested for strep today which came back negative. So, I have been gargling salt water, drinking tea, poppin' advil, and swallowing through the pain. I wanted to write something today about my cute little 3 year old admiring the "daniel lions" in our front yard, but the truth is that I cannot stop thinking about my pain. I know it is mind blowing to imagine me, someone who has insanely been staying up until all hours to get things done to get sick. But I am human. Living in a human body, with human consequences.
I think sometime we feel invincible, especially when things are going good. But sometimes we can crumble so quickly when something painful or unexpected arises. We can become fixated on the pain and it can consume us. I think it is amazing to hear from people who are grown, successful adults, who are STILL holding on to childhood hurts. Clutching the pain fiercely but wanted to be rid of it so badly.
I think we are all dandelions at some point in time. Masking the weeds inside us with a false beauty, trying to blend in with the other flowers out there, but its all a facade. That bright and cheery yellow is sometimes masking deep wounds, sadness and pain.
Isn't funny when we look for every remedy, every validating philosophy, ever "cure" for our own pain instead of just looking to the ultimate pain manager, the ultimate pain alleviator for help? I do it all the time, which is why I am writing this. Because I need to hear it. I need to remember where real relief comes from. The relief is not always immediate, and it can be a process. But in the end its worth it. The real cure.
