Friday, Friday…

I mentioned sometime last week that Gen and I had gone on an excursion to IKEA so that she could work on a photography assignment, for school. The assignment was to take photos of things at interesting angles/perspectives. She decided IKEA would be a great format to play around with that, so off we went.

It took her this long to email me the photos she submitted, but since I promised you guys I’d show you, here they are. :)

Considering it was her first ever photo assignment and her only real past experience would be the insane amounts of snapchats and selfies that an average teenage girl sends, I think she did fantastic! I am so proud. Today we will be venturing out for her next assignment (contrast of color in a unique way).

On the agenda for this weekend we also have brunch with the boyfriend, family anniversary time and a little Senior Picture shoot. What’s the plan for your weekend?

I’m ok, you’re ok…

photo-1438979315413-de5df30042a1There is a virus, or exhaustion, (or perhaps a virus by exhaustion) making its way through our house, this week. We’ve each got a touch of it, somehow. These are the sort of things which don’t seem to fit into the to-do lists and planners, thus leading to frustration. Yesterday, (which I’ll get more to in a bit) found me waking with a massive headache, 2 hours AFTER I wanted to wake. Sleep had been rocky up until about 3 hours before I actually got up, so that was pretty awesome. I had half an hour to dress and head to a class I am taking, led in video sessions, by Shauna Niequist. Also factor in the emotional and defiant teen, who has been a bit of a struggle this week, and it made for not the best half hour. I showed up, to the class, barely dressed, without make up and crowned with crazy, curly hair. Who knew it would be a class filled with gorgeous, fit, SAHM’s, all so put together I double checked to see if I had walked into a magazine spread shoot.

I made it through the class and breakout session somewhat managed. Yay me. On my way home I had to stop by the supermarket for a cake. See, yesterday was our Family Anniversary with Gen. For those of you not familiar with adoption stuff, it would mark the day (13 years ago) that Gen came into our family. We do something special to mark the occasion every year, usually on the weekend. Even so, Gen and I had decided we would have a little cake or something to mark the day of. So, off I went to buy a tiny cake. And crusty bread, to go with dinner. And bananas, because the other day they were all not the best looking. And Ice Cream, to go with the cake of course. And $70 later, my quick trip for a cake added to my frustration.

Upon getting home, the awesome dynamics of the day, the hormones, the defiance and my headache all meshed together quite lovely, leading me to abandon everything on my agenda and crawl into bed. (Now, the night before I had another class, with my husband. And I was making a delicious dinner for him and his coworker before hand. And that all went downhill rather quickly causing me to melt down into fits of sobs and why me’s… It was incredibly attractive, I’m sure. Yesterday honestly felt more like a continuation of Tuesday and the same sorts of things.) I made a new recipe last night, which the family loved but I just couldn’t stand the taste. When the cake, later, also sat on my palette flavorless I had to admit I’m headed towards needing to take sick leave, only- PLOT TWIST- no sick leave here! So, I kept trucking. I cleaned the kitchen while the family vegged. I woke up early to take care of other sickies, make tea and distribute meds. Nothing major, except that after three days of what feels like minimal rest, I’m feeling achy and done.

This morning I sit in bed, cup of tea (Wonder Woman cup, no less) with my laptop, two classes of homework and my planner all spread out before me. Laundry will not be put away today. I will only get dressed, in yoga pants, when it is time to go take Gen to work and pick up last-minute ingredients for homemade chicken noodle soup. Here’s the thing though, guilt is weighing on me worse than any 3-4 day headache, back pain or muscle ache. Why haven’t I done this or that, which has been shuffled on my to-do list daily. Why is this basket of unfolded laundry sitting here? What is wrong with me, I never had unfolded laundry! Why can’t I simply take care of these things, there isn’t that much! Why have I managed to watch a collective two hours of The Mindy Project on Hulu?  I have friends who work real, actual paycheck jobs and take care of the house and parent the kids and make it work. What is my issue this week?  Truth? There will always be someone who seems to have their stuff together, someone who manages to juggle it all flawless without a strand of hair out-of-place. I think that up until everything fell apart last fall, I seemed to be that person to a few. It’s not that they were wrong, and it isn’t that I was wrong. It is simply that we can’t compare because we all have different shoes, with different tread and walk on different surfaces of life. Who cares if this girl seems to have it all together, and who cares if that girl clearly doesn’t. Let’s not compare and not compete. Let’s acknowledge that in our genuine authenticness we are women and we are beautiful. What makes us beautiful is not our perfect hair, or flawless skin or our airbrushed appearance makeup application. Each of those things can be nice, but none of them equal beauty. When we are stressed, or tired, or alone- there is no amount of product or shopping which will make us look stunning. We wear this in our posture, in our face and in our reactions toward others. Womanhood is beauty. Period. Womanhood is also meant to be sisterhood, which means we are a community of women knit together to help one another, share burdens and love and make it work because one woman’s success truly is another’s.

I am tired. My head hurts. I don’t feel well at all. My back is killing me and I just feel worn out. There is nothing wrong with me, as woman/wife/mother/writer authentically stating this. We think there is, because it has been heavily implied that we need to appear as though our crap is together 24/7. If we don’t, (and even when we do) we run the great big risk of internet trolls trashing on our photos/posts/tweets. Let the haters hate, it very well may be the only skill they have. This applies to the ones hiding on the internet as well as the snooty women we cross paths with out in the world. I am a woman, with this one shot at life, I think I’ve decided to do it authentically. Behind on laundry, to-do list ignored, fifty loads of dishes per day and my house looking lived in while I plant myself in bed for an hour to watch Catfish– this is authentically me, from time to time. And that is ok…

Sea glass…

photo-1433162653888-a571db5ccccfI have something that has been weighing heavy in my thoughts, which I fully intended to write about this morning. After the unfolding of this weekend though, I find myself unable to go there quite yet… It isn’t that it was a bad weekend. It was a full weekend. A busy weekend. A surprising weekend.

My beautiful seventeen year old began her weekend single, with not only no prospects, but learning to accept herself in that place. Said seventeen year old ended her weekend snuggling on my couch with her boyfriend, whom she met 2 days before in totally cute and bookish/classic movie sort of way. I will not share the story here as it is not mine to share. The part I want to talk about is related, but more so mine.

Friday was kind of a huge day for that part of me which connects my brain and my heart. I’m sure you know the part in which I speak of… Gen and I, (in case you’re new here, I’ll take a second to point out that Gen is, in fact, said seventeen year old.) went to see the Hillsong movie on Friday afternoon. (on the chance that you are not new here, I know that this part in my chain of events will be of no surprise to you.) (sidenote: it’s incredible and you really should go see it.) There were a few things mentioned in the film which really stuck in my brain. The longer those things stayed planted in my thoughts, the more they grew and the more I simply felt WOWED by life, by divine intervention, by…

One of these thoughts was a reassurance that things are not up to us and we can’t control them. To degrees we can, sure. But there are so many things that we can’t, bigger things… Sometimes really beautiful things, like the unexpected pregnancies during the difficult and tumultuous times. Though this is not a place which I have lived in, I have seen this very thing play out in the lives of my sister, my older daughter and many, many friends. It is the sea of big scary unknowns whose waves crash into something amazingly beautiful and life affirming. These out-of-our-hands miracles which we may not have wanted, expected or believed we needed are the bits of life which reflect the brightest.

A darker reality of this same idea comes in the form of child abuse. Child abuse of any nature is unacceptable and never justifiable. Anyone who has been present in our world knows, however, that it is an epidemic reality. Child abuse victims, as they grow, become one of two people. Have you ever really noticed this? Having worked in the industry of broken children (which is, sadly, an industry here in America) for the better part of a decade and a half, I saw it unfold and cycle over and over again. Option one is the bitter, self-centered eternal victim who will always wear the blue-colored glasses aiding them to see themselves as the one wronged eternally. By friends, family, lovers, cable men, creditors, land lords, employers, their own children, etc. We all know these people, the ones with the lifetime of themes of being wronged somehow. The ones who talk on and on about it. Psychologically speaking, this is a pretty interesting way to live. Though we often get frustrated with these sorts, and due to that, they may wind up alone- they are not entirely wrong. Often they either keep themselves so down that they attract users and manipulators. In the times when they haven’t, however, I personally believe they are simply stuck in a rut. Whenever their childhood wounds happened, no one likely advocated for them. Isn’t that all they are doing those 10/20/30 years later- advocating for themselves, in their own minds anyway? The second option, however, comes less naturally. It is the option of bettering yourself, and going on to impact the world for the better, in some way, because your childhood wounds made you stronger. The two options truly are choices… And though the first part is beyond our control (and I do not believe EVER destined to happen) we can decide how we handle it, and who we choose to become.

Both my husband and I were at that crossroads, in our youth. We had to decide which route to take and upon our early days of meeting and getting to know one another, we both spoke the words aloud about how we wanted to provide a home to kids who needed it because that had been done for us. Over the 23 years which have followed, we have been foster parents, been a shelter home, housed teenage runaways, and become the parents of three of the most awesome, not-from-our-womb kids we could have imagined. Our home has also been the temporary home of quite a few young adults who became a part of our little rag-tag family. There is no way we ever could have orchestrated any of that, but we would not change a thing. The absolute ugly of our young lives was turned into the most amazing things in our grown ones. The stormy waves crash, again and again, making something beautiful. It is like the origin of sea glass, or the unearthing of shipwrecked treasures…

Sometimes we simply go to work a little lonely, on a friday night and then wrap up the weekend holding hands with a cute boy on the couch whose path yours likely crossed with many, many times before…

My September Pocketful of Sunshine…

This weekend, as I mentioned yesterday, Gen and I had the opportunity to do a few cool things. Girl’s weekends are kind of great, from time to time. She’s taking a pretty cool photography class and so, on assignment, we ventured off to IKEA so she could get some shots. The photographer in me bloomed with pride when I watched this girl insecurely talk about how she couldn’t find any angles, and she simply can’t do it, when I knew she could. I helped her find her vision for a while and then she was off. She was so into shooting pretty much everything, that she ran her camera battery completely dead and then took over with her phone. Can we say Potential Family Business? *grin*

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After a while, armed only with my phone, I found myself staring at my feet a lot, not knowing what to do.

Complete with ice cream and great Autumn classics like Practical Magic and You’ve Got Mail, our weekend continued in a much-needed cathartic fashion. Honestly I was just grateful for the time with her, and the fluke fact that Gen had the entire weekend off. (this NEVER happens!)

On Sunday, (9/11) we were invited to attend a Tiger’s game. This was a majorly awesome thing for me. I grew up going to local softball and baseball games religiously, and attended a minor league game whenever I had the chance. I’ve kept attending an MLB game at the top of my wish list since I was 16 and all I have to say is, it was worth every ounce of anticipation. I’m not a fan of televised sports. They lack the energy that a live game has, and Sunday did not disappoint. Despite living in Detroit, I have to say the Tiger’s aren’t my favorite, but I could really start to love them. It was so amazing, so thanks to my friend who generously shared her tickets!

The fact that it was 9/11 and they did a beautiful tribute to our local first responders was easily the highlight. Those things always choke me up, and to be there for that and honoring those men & women was a privilege, to say the least.

Top of my Christmas list, this year, will be Mariner’s season tickets for sure. (oh yeah, and I guess a swanky Seattle loft to go along with it.)

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This Morning/Mourning…

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A crazy heat wave seems to have engulfed the midwest. I totally want to complain about how it’s such an inopportune time, but for such matters of weather there isn’t likely to be a great time, is there? School has been cancelled, for some, leaving several moms exasperated and taking to social media that their personal time is once again over run with Crayola markers and screaming, restless kids. What about their Pumpkin Spice Latte’s and unaccompanied hours, dreamed about, in the Target aisles? Oh I get it, minus the latte thing anyway, (because, for one, it’s not my flavor- and two, hello??? Heat Wave! Forget your latte and grab an iced tea!) I have to admit, however, it is a little gratifying to be home working while my high school senior is a few feet away, in her unicorn onesie, independently doing her own school. We begin the day with a tasty beverage or smoothie and just see how it unfolds. I really want to be intentional as these last days, with her home, tick away. I want to savor the moments, the laughter and the love. I’m not ready for them to be over, but that is not reason alone for me to wallow in the passing of time or my self sadness. I want her to be the very best she can be when that cap & tassel day comes.

Life has been extra heavy, within our family, for a while now. Marital issues, kid issues, financial issues, health issues, emotional issues, moving, moving again and then moving yet again. (for me personally there were a few other smaller “moves” tucked in there.) Do you have any idea what I’ve come to realize I hate above most things? Moving. When my beloved dog Paisley passed away a couple of weeks ago, leaving a part of my already bruised heart feeling absolutely decimated, I had to ask what else could happen… Unfortunately, a few days later Chw flew to Seattle to spend time with his dying father. (He also got to spend time with our son and his beautiful family, which I’m super jealous of, btw) Sadly, after a whirlwind road trip weekend (which left him totally exhausted), Chw’s dad passed away on Sunday. Suffice it to say, I am not asking “What else?” anymore… No. Bad, crappy and unjust things will come. I’m just going to sit here and cherish the minutes I discover, where peace, rest and joy will thrive. When those moments aren’t around, I’ll try my best to function in those things intentionally. The sun will always rise, and set again. This is our guarantee.

This morning I am up much earlier than normal. I am not sad about this, in fact I am grateful. In all of the chaos, I’ve fallen behind in my quiet time. (why is this always the thing I cut when time is short?) I was able to spend some good time this morning and now I am off to Target to peruse the aisles and grab a few necessities before my little unicorn-onesie clad student awakens to begin her day… No latte for me, but I will certainly be thinking of the mom’s out there suffering in inclement weather days and keep my fingers (and toes) crossed that this isn’t a sign of how the whole school year will go.