Take Me Out to the Ball Game!

The night after we got back from NC, we took Ezra out to his first ballgame at the Bricktown Triple A ballpark. Our friend Craig had some extra tickets, and we jumped at the opportunity to let Ezra experience this important American rite-of-passage. We also thought it might help shake off the Missin' MoMar Blues. (Also, we were in the market for greasy ballpark food and an excuse not to cook.)

The evening was perfect and highly documented... by the end of the night I had taken more pictures than the entire week of camp combined. Here are a few:









Ezra loved watching the game and caught right on to the thing by shouting "Throw duh bawl!" at the pitcher every other second or so. What a heckler. We shamelessly tried to get Ezra on the mega-tron screen by lifting him above our heads and shaking him around when we noticed that they were filming people in the stands who were dancing. No such luck.

After the game (which our home team was losing MISERABLY when we left) we walked around downtown for a while and stopped to get Ezra a balloon sculpture. The young guy making the balloons asked us what we wanted and I said, "Whatever is easy!" at the exact same time that Chris said matter-of-factly, "A BOAT."

"A boat?" The kid asked trembling. Sweat began to form on his young brow.

"A boat?", I turned and asked Chris. "Why a boat?"

"I dunno." Chris said. "Ezra likes boats, right?"

"I guess so... but Ezra also likes things like SNAKES and SWORDS, honey."

We stood there for the next few minutes while the poor balloon man attempted to make a boat, using nothing short of 80 balloons to accomplish this feat. The line behind us grew longer. The boy's mutterings under his breath became more frequent. His hands became shakier and shakier. Finally, we had a balloon sailboat. That could also double as a hat. Hopefully the two dollars that we gave the balloon guy will cover the cost of materials he used to make our ginormous boat hat balloon contraption. It is doubtful, however. Very doubtful.

Momma's Home!

Hello, lovelies! Do you remember me? You may not recognize me-- what with the refreshed look on my face and the crisp scent of mountain air lingering in my hair. North Carolina was fantastic! And oh Lordy was it beautiful.

The high schoolers we got to hang out with all week were so sweet and precious and amazing- (it reminded me of the days when Chris and I worked with the high school youth group back in Reno.) We led worship twice a day, and I even got to play them the song I wrote for Ezra a few days ago! And they liked it!

It rained the entire week which basically meant that I wore the only pair of jeans I had brought and the only jacket (that I almost didn't even bring) for 5 days straight. STINKY MUCH.

Ezra had the TIME OF HIS LIFE with Momar here this week. Oh, and he can now say every word in the dictionary. I'm pretty sure his vocabulary has surpassed mine at this point. He is even beginning to display some story-telling skills... He told me about how he and MoMar made cookies and went to the OmniPlex and saw some balls go around and around and then down and then into a hole. RIVETING, I tell you! I smell a Pulitzer in the near future.

So now, we are unpacking our bags (well, actually, Chris had his bag unpacked and his clothes IN THE WASHING MACHINE before we'd been home all of 10 minutes. My bag? Well, I've gotten it out of the car... So, um, progress!) and we're readjusting to the routine of being full-time parents and members of a society that is not in the habit of smearing shaving cream and vasoline on every surface of the freshman girl's cabins. (O8' RULZ!)

Now, some pictures:

Chris and Joel awaiting their Archery Round.


I'm a Pirate Archer. Or something. Arrg!


Shocking Accuracy. Ahem.


If you look closely, you can see Joel got a Bullseye.


My Robin Hood.


No youth camp is complete without a little Guitar Hero.


This is how we do it.


Catch of the day!


Fishing in the rain.


This is Jonathan and Leslie and their
yummy-baby-tummy daughter. They are the
ones who invited us to the camp after we met
Jonathan at Passion 07 in Atlanta.


The Detroit Airport is better than Disneyland.


People Movers.


The Corridor of Peace.
(Probably built to chill you out after
your air travel rage- due in part to now having to
PURCHASE your own in-flight peanuts. Whaa??)


This trip has taught me to open my eyes to the endless possibilities that life throws my way. And it has also taught me that traveling (sans toddler) is the most relaxing experience in the world.

Thank you MoMar for your sacrifice of coming to our house for a week to watch Ezzie Bug! WE OWE YOU BIG TIME!

North Carolina. (Here I Come.)

Hello hello hi hi hello!

Have I told you that I'm going away for a week? WITH NO EZRA? It's true.

My mother is flying in tomorrow evening, and Chris and I leave for North Carolina early the next morning. (Flight leaves at 6:30AM. OUCH.) We will be leading worship at a Summer Camp out there and will be gone for seven days. My mom will be hanging out at our house here in Oklahoma to take care of Ezra. For SEVEN DAYS.

I feel very excited about this, but the second my thoughts stray to actually leaving my boy on the ground while Chris and I fly away in an airplane makes me feel sick to my stomach. The last time we left Ezra was when Chris and I went to Atlanta to lead worship over New Years at Passion. When we pulled out of the driveway of my parent's house to go to the airport, Ezra was in my mom's arms... crying his face off and looking confused. I swallowed a lump in my throat and tried not to lose it the whole car ride. It took a good two days of our trip to recover from that parting.

I know Ezra is going to be perfectly fine... probably way more fine than when he's with me... but I'm just going to miss him. He has been so pleasant and funny and sweet the last couple of weeks- it's probably the first time in the past two years that I haven't been itching for a little break, a getaway.

But, I know the time in NC will be so much easier and much more relaxing without an overheated toddler demanding my attention 24-7. I will get to meet some awesome high school kids and sing my heart out. I will get some alone time to write. I will get to eat camp food. Mmmmm.

I have no idea what the communications will be like once we get there. If I am able to send you updates (possibly through Morse Code?) I will do it. Just get to your nearest HAM radio and prepare for indefinite standby. Mmm kay?

Love!

And please, try not to feel too sorry for me.



PS. You know what I discovered at Target yesterday? They make mini wifebeater tank tops for kids! I have seen the light!

Although, yesterday, Ezra came into the office and had somehow managed to become TANGLED in his tank top straps. I almost peed from laughing so hard.

A Clear Mountain Lake.

Ever since Ezra recovered from his last bout of illness, he's been a completely different kid. He smiles and laughs ALL THE TIME, whereas before, cranky McCrankerton pretty much ruled the roost on a daily basis. He's suddenly sweet and snuggly, where he'd never been 'that kind of kid' before.

Even as an infant he was more prone to contemplative blank stares and furrowed brows. You know, ALL SERIOUS ABOUT THE BUSINESS OF BEING A BABY and whatnot. It still shocks me when I get around really happy babies. (like our precious neighbor in the pictures below.) Ezra has never been a smiley, laughy kid. It doesn't mean he's not a happy kid, it just means he shows his love and affection in different ways. Like when he would graciously allow me to sit next to him on the couch. (As long as no part of my body was touching HIS COUCH CUSHION, of course.) Turns me into goo just thinking about it.

ahem.

He is suddenly interested in talking more, and has actually been attempting to repeat words back to me when I ask him to. Before, when I'd ask him to try and say something, he'd look right through me and refuse to make eye contact with me. This was, um, mammothly slightly infuriating frustrating. But now it seems he's figured out that words actually do stuff! Like help him communicate his needs! His very complex needs like JUICE and CAR and TeeDEE! (TV)



I'm so excited to see him blossoming like this. It has seriously been like I've felt all this pressure and weight lifting off of me the last few days... weight that I didn't even know was there.

He waves. He giggles. He wants me to snuggle with him until he falls asleep at naptime.

And I'm falling in love all over again.



When Ezra was born, I was downright shocked (and terrified) to discover that this whole motherhood thing hadn't instantly released the magical 'floodgates of love' inside of me.

Over the past two years I have been pleasantly surprised, however, to discover that this motherly love has been less like a violent tidal wave, and more like a clear mountain lake... one that I can dive into over

and over

and over again.

My Boy, He is Song-Worthy.

I wrote this song last night for Ezra.

This is really rough recording of it... It's called 'A Different Tune'. Enjoy!




**edited to add lyrics**

You're dancing to a different tune
Yes you are, Yes you are.
You're swaying to a different tune
Yes you are, Yes you are.

And all the people in the town will know
there's the boy who walks a different road.
All the children in the street will see
that there's the boy with magic dancing feet...

Because you're dancing to a different tune
yes you are, yes you are.
And you'll lead them in a different tune
yes you will, yes you will.

Don't forget about your different song,
honor it with all your life.
And teach them all a different sway
transforming mourning into light...

This dance will take your life away
to the most amazing place!

This tune will set your life apart-
and it will make room for your heart.

All the lonelies in your path will cry.
Your simple dance will open their eyes.
All the people will gather just to see
the little boy who's lost in jubilee.

An Epiphany.

The past few weeks have been full of confusion and stress. I have been crippling myself with one question:

"Where am I meant to be?"

I have sooo many unanswered questions and concerns bogging down my mind. Questions that go a little something like this:

Are we in the right place?
What if we're not?
Are we missing out on what God has for us by being in the wrong place?
Should being by family take priority at this time in our lives? (Reno?)
Should being in an awesome community take priority at this time in our lives? (Oklahoma?)
What does my gut tell me to do?
Ummmm, Why isn't my gut saying anything?
Are we meant to just stay put?
Why are we both suddenly feeling freaked out about this?

Here's the thing. When I moved to California, I KNEW WITHOUT A DOUBT that I was meant to move there. God practically knocked me upside the head with it. That was good, because I was very young, and probably needed a good, strong WHACK to push me from the nest. And, I didn't have to struggle with all the doubt. woo hoo!

When we moved to Oklahoma, it was more of a CHOICE rather than a specific calling. Believing that God would bless us no matter where our physical address was located (as long as we were ultimately pursuing Him), we decided to take a leap and move halfway across the country- 6 short months after Ezra was born.

Living here in Oklahoma has been the happiest time of my life. I've re-discovered my love of writing and we have become a part of a community here that has changed our lives and perspectives of the world and the church forever. The people here are living the life Chris and I had always dreamed of living... They are people pursuing their dreams with the full knowledge of how desperately they need one another to accomplish them.

Beautiful stuff, I tell you.

We could stay here in Oklahoma and be perfectly happy for years and years to come. So, why this sudden itch? This sudden fear that we might be in the wrong spot and missing out on God stuff?

If we moved back to Reno, it would have to be a very intentional move. We would be moving back to be by family, but it would also be a whole lot more than that. We would be taking all of the amazing things that we've learned about community and pursuing God with one another and SHARING it, LIVING it out among the people in that town... Asking if anyone wanted to join us on our messy, wonderful journey. It would be a missional move. We wouldn't and couldn't do it without the support and blessing of our community here, sending us out.

There aren't really any communities in Reno like the ones that we've been a part of here in Oklahoma or in California. And since most of our families and friends LIVE IN THAT TOWN, the knowledge of that breaks our hearts.

Chris heard some really good advice last night. He heard about a man at our church who was recently listening to his daughter while she processed her fears and worries about buying the 'right house' in the 'right neighborhood' for the 'right price'. She was really stressed out about making the choices that she thought God would want her to make. Her dad basically told her this:

"In all my years of following God, I've learned one thing about making big, life decisions. Your focus should ALWAYS be on RELATIONSHIP first and foremost. The details and logistics (where to live? what career?) are only secondary and aren't ultimately as important as the relationships you choose to pursue."

I thought that was so wise and TRUE. It doesn't mean that God doesn't care about the houses we buy or the jobs we take... it just means he cares about people, relationships, and community more. Chris and I will live ANYWHERE as long as we have an opportunity to be a part of or help build a community that is pursuing Jesus in a real way together.

Ultimately, it comes down to this: All of this worrying and stressing and over-analyzing that I've been doing isn't going to get me anywhere. It's not going to scrounge up any answers. I need to release all of these burning questions and just believe that God will guide me. I need to let go. But as of now, I have a very tight grip. Fear and worry do nothing but complicate something that should be really very simple... TRUSTING GOD. The same God who has been faithful to lead me and love me every single day for the past 25 years.

I trust God enough to tell me if I've wandered way off into left field and am now picking daisies when I'm meant to be coaching third base. Because I believe He is Good to me. And I believe that He loves me.

At least, I believe those things in my head. But something tells me that if I really, truly, waaaay deep-down for sure believed those things in my heart, I wouldn't allow myself to get so STRESSED OUT over all the big question marks in this life. Life is hard. Life is meant to be hard. It is a refining process. It was never meant to be (and never will be) (and would we ever really want it to be?) a smooth, free ride to the end.

So here's the logic... If I really believed God was GOOD and loved me, I would stop begging Him to tell me what to do already. Stop begging Him to 'speak up'. I would trust in His goodness and His ability to speak to me, and I would sit back and enjoy the journey... bumps and all.

He tells me that if I seek Him, I will find Him. And when I do find Him, He will be GOOD to me.

So, the question suddenly isn't "Where should I live?"

The question is "Do I believe God is GOOD? To me?"

If I'm 100% honest with myself, the answer would be "not really". There is something deep inside of me that feels I need to keep one hand on the wheel at all times. You know, 'just in case' God drops the ball and sends me barreling off of a cliff or something.

I'm afraid to let go. I'm afraid to lose control.

I've got my fearful hands all over the steering wheel while, at the same time, I'm asking God TO STEER.

What would happen if I allowed myself to let go? What would happen if we ALL did? I bet we'd realize that the "cars" we'd been frantically driving around on the ground were really airplanes.

Just waiting for that cliff; for a chance to finally takeoff.

Summer Fashion 101.

Summer Fashion 101 !

Okay, so I've had a couple people ask me about Summer 'style' via my vintage site, and how they can get the look. For the Summer, there are a few KEY items that I couldn't live without. Pairing the right things together can create a whole new look, so I thought I'd do a little tutorial here...on my blog... because, um, wouldn't that be sooo helpful? And also- I'm BOREDY BORED SAUCE.

First, you start off with a very basic dress with a shorter length. For example:

This red cover-all shirt dress
that I just found at the GAP two days ago
for $3.99. THREE NINETY NINNNNNNEEE!



Or, something like this grey dress that I also found
at the GAP... This is perfect because it has that
babydoll fit that is all the rage right now--
tighter around the top and a flowy bottom.




These two pieces are basic solid dresses, so you can accessorize them like crazy without looking too over the top.

Here's what every girl needs this Summer (in my opinion, that is...) :

One good elastic belt that is tight enough to fit snugly around your EMPIRE waist. I've found this handy for using to cinch around the waist of some of my skirts- bringing it up to just under my chest with a tank tucked in... I say, create the mini babydoll look with clothes you already have!

Two lighter cardigans: One that is plain, and one that is funky patterned. These are always the perfect finishing touch!

A pair (or two or threeeee!) of opaque, colored tights. These look great under shorter dresses and make it way more comfortable to wear the mini length at the same time!

A pair of simple black flats. Flats look great with the tights, and boy-oh-boy are they comfy!

One pair of strappy, gladiator-type sandals. These are really popular this Summer, and they complement the mini dresses perfectly! I found some cute ones (shown with the grey dress) at (you guessed it!) the GAP for $14.00.


Here's a couple examples of all these items put together:




I found ALL of these accessories, apart from the shoes, at thrift stores. Thrift stores are THE BEST places to look for accessories. You can almost always find lots of elastic belts, and you can also find some awesome unique cardigans that everyone and their mom won't be wearing as you walk down the street. (don't forget to look in the little girls & little boys section for cardigans-- I've found most of mine there!) I also found this pair of unopened tights (and a pair of hunter green ones too) for 25 cents a piece at a local thrift store and almost died from joy.

Also, I think this look would be completely complete if finished off with an oversized bag. Something like this:
bag is from topshop.


Oh! And, one last thing you'll need:

One silly, pants-less toddler to entertain you and blur your photos while you're trying to snap pictures for all your blog buddies. This last item is very important, because otherwise you might begin to take yourself too seriously. And that's never a good thing.

Room Arrangement: The Office!

I am so utterly predictable.

Whenever I start to feel antsy, I do one of two things:

1. I cut off my hair, or
2. I rearrange furniture like there's no tomorrow.

Since all of you are helping keep me accountable with option number ONE, I had to do the next best thing: Option TWO.

Last November, I was feeling jittery and so I made Chris help me switch the office and Ezra's room (without delay!) on a Tuesday night. This is what the room looked like last November.






Since the switch, I have loved Ezra's new room, but this office / guest room has never felt quite "right" to me. The desk was shoved in the corner farthest from the window, and the couch covered the single air vent in the entire room, so it was always too hot or too cold in there. It always felt cluttery and random in there to me. I am the kind of person who won't rest until a room feels 'correct'- I can't hang out in it or relax in it until it is just right.

Finally, yesterday, I decided it was time to make some adjustments. So, I rearranged the whole office. By myself. During Ezra's nap time. Boo-yah!

Here's what it looks like now:





I removed the coffee table and the rug entirely so that the room wouldn't feel so cluttered. The room feels a lot bigger and brighter because of it. And how cool is that desk?? A friend gave it to us a few months ago-- it belonged to his father and it's an old army-issued desk from way back in the day. Our friend painted it black and changed out the hardware, but had no use for it anymore. We LOVE it! We wanted a more 'modern' feel to this room... less patterns and more sharp lines. Chris wants this room to be "green and black" with no extra frilly froo-froo anywhere. It's getting there!

The biggest plus to this new arrangement, however, is the fact that now, as I sit and type this, I can gaze out my window into my backyard and feel the sunlight on my face. I can watch the squirrels run across the telephone wires and then make kamikaze dives onto nearby branches.

Geesh, that's nerve-wracking.

Something about rearranging furniture really calms me down when I'm feeling all amped up. It makes me feel centered and calm, and since yesterday I have wanted to do nothing but sit in this room and write. How can such a small act change my entire emotional state? I don't know the answer to that question, but I do know this:

I'm running out of rooms to rearrange, and the scissors are calling out my name.

Must... not.... cut...hair!

WILL... REMAIN... STRONG!


*hides scissors in the very back of the top desk drawer*

*knows full well that this will do nothing but frustrate husband when he is looking for scissors later*

*giggles to self.*

*hits 'publish' button.*

*goes and makes a sandwhich.*

*is stopping the obnoxious running commentary now...*

*...promise.*

You Talkin' To Me?

I NEVER get hit on.

I know, I know. I'm married. But, sometimes it makes a girl feel good to get hit on or stared at every once in awhile, you know? I have married friends that get hit on alllll the time. Me? NOPE. I don't think it's ever really happened to me. Not once. Chris and I started dating when I was 16 years old, so I never really 'went out' with my girlfriends to the bar scene or anything.

In fact, the other night I went out to some bars with my friend Amy, and she took me to a couple DIVE BARS that, as she described them, "were full of toothless old men and young sorority girls." As we were entering the second bar, I told Amy that if I didn't get hit on by someone in a bar like this, I WAS GOING TO BE SOOO PISSED.

You can guess what happened. Let's just say it was a humbling experience.

I will admit that I am not the most observant person in the world, so maybe I just don't notice if I'm getting attention. I look at my feet and the pavement right in front of me A LOT. Eye contact makes me nervous. Also, I don't leave my house very often without a toddler clinging to my neck like a rampageous monkey. So, I don't know, maybe that has something to do with it.

Maybe I just give off a super strong "taken" vibe.

Oooor maybe I look like a troll.

Whatever "it" is, it took the night off. Because tonight, at Barnes & Noble, I GOT HIT ON.

Don't get too excited, though. This man? He was older. And not exactly 'attractive'. Alright, allow me to be blunt: He was a creepy weird nerd man. With a strange cowlick on top. But, (oh bless his heart!) he totally tried to work his nerd charm on ME! Meeee!!!

I was sitting in a chair trying to decide between a collection of 'The Greatest American Short Stories of the Century' or 'The Complete Collection of Short Stories by Ernest Hemingway'. (Now who's the nerd?) I finally made up my mind to get the Hemingway book, so I got up to buy it and be on my way. Just as I was leaving, this guy said "Whatcha got there?".

I was taken aback, but smiled and told him it was a collection of short stories.

He asked if I was taking a class, and I told him "No, I just really like short stories" ... yadda yadda yadda bibbity bobbity boo.

A few awkward moments later, and after an even more awkward parting, he went his way and I went mine. It didn't occur to me that I'd just been hit on until I reached my car in the parking lot a few minutes later. I was on top of the world!

Hey! He may have been icky old nerd guy with a weird cowlick on top and glasses that were thicker than a dictionary, but it was something!

Of course, I joke... My husband's loving attention is all I need and more, thankyouverymuch. He makes me feel beautiful every single day, and I'm incredibly thankful for that.

But still, I'm curious... Do any of you get 'hit on' on a regular basis? And if so, what gives?!

I'll bet it was
the new birthday shoes...

Birthday Madness: a Recap!

Thank you all so much for your sweet birthday wishes! You are all so kind and you've made twentyfive pretty awesome so far. You're the best!

The day of my actual birthday started off kinda poopy, though. I was stuck at home with my sick son and spent a good part of the AM cleaning up toddler puke from all over myself, my son, the kitchen floor, and the kitchen cabinets. With bleach! Weee!

The day may have started with puke, but (thankfully) it ended with a big bag of gifts from my hubby and a lovey-dovey date. Somehow, the troubles of my day instantly melted away as I started unwrapping my presents. Can you believe that? It was miraculous! Chris and I went out and had coffee and truffles at a local chocolate bar here in town called 'CoCo Flow'. We sat and talked about life and Reno and family and our dreams. It was a really sweet time. (no pun intended.)

Then, on Saturday morning, we borrowed our neighbor's bikes and their buggy thing for Ezra to ride in, and we headed out to the lake by our house. We rode bikes on the trails around the water, but it was really hot and, have I ever told you guys this? I PRETTY MUCH HATE BEING OUTSIDE. I'm definitely not your 'outdoorsy type' of girl, so doing things like riding bikes and hiking and, well, being outside are very trying for me. Outside there are bugs and no A/C. Outside, you get all sweaty and you walk somewhere only to have to turn around and WALK BACK. I just don't get it.

Chris was laughing at me the whole time we rode our bikes because, apparently, I had my 'miserable face' on. I was hot and weak, and those bike seats? They chaff. Ezra had a blast, though, and he also got real sweaty. As shown here:



I really wish I was more of an outdoorsy-type of gal. My whole family is 'outdoorsy', but I guess I didn't inherit the gene. I know Chris loves the outdoors. It makes me feel totally lame when I am miserable being outside while everyone else is having a blast... Walking. In the heat. Knowing full well they will have to walk back the same way again to get to their cars. And still smiling.

Being this way somehow makes me feel like less of a woman or something... like I'm just a squee-ish little mall girl that gets her biggest thrills from getting all gussied up to go hit the Pac Sun on Saturdays. (ugg. hate that store.) I don't want to be this way... I want to enjoy hiking and camping and rafting and biking, but I just never have. Actually, I do love camping and rafting and rock climbing, but it's the getting there that ruins it for me. The walking. Or biking. If someone could just carry me to the fun place, I'd be golden!

Anywho, tonight we are going up to Guthrie with some good friends to eat some birthday cake and watch a drive-in movie. I'm so excited, it's going to be a blast. Luckily for Ezra (but unfortunately for us, I suppose), 'Shrek 3' is the movie playing tonight. Shrek THREE? And, have you heard? Get yourselves ready for 'Shrek the Halls' coming to your TVs this Christmas!

Hey, DreamWorks! Just so you know, I'M ALL SHREK-ED OUT. But, thanks!


Here's some pictures of a couple of birthday gifts I got:

my husband has...



impeccable taste and...




knows me all too well.



My friend Joel bought this print for me from this talented girl. All the proceeds from her artwork go towards helping her sister adopt a child from Ethiopia, as well as to an orphanage called AHOPE in Addis Ababa that cares for HIV+ children. Go check out her stuff, it's amazing!


Also, my wise and foreknowing mother bought me an EXTERNAL HARD DRIVE! Now I can spill all the coffee I want and never lose all my preshus-weshus data! woo hoo!

I should really have birthdays more often.

Twenty Five.

me.



Twenty Five RANDOM Things.

1. it's my birthday today. i'm twenty five years old. oh holy hell.

2. i've never been freaked out by an age until now. in fact, between ages 22 and 24, i got completely confused and often told people i was older or younger than i really was.

3. i don't like chocolate ice cream. i'm actually not a big chocolate fan in general.

4. every night, i turn ezra's blind UPWARDS because I am convinced that it blocks out more light. every time chris puts ezra to bed, i sneak in there and twist the blinds the correct way, facing up, because i can't sleep unless i know that i know they are in the right position. oh, and my closet curtain can't be open AT ALL, or i won't sleep. it makes the room feel "messy".

5. soooo, yeah. i'm a crazy person.

6. i could eat banana deserts 3 times a day.

7. i feel like i'm right on schedule for my 'quarter life crisis'... you know, the one that makes you feel like you have to have everything figured out by now, and you have to hone in on EXACTLY what you want to do with the rest of your life because it's getting to the point where ypur decisions have some permanency...

8. my hair is in my eyes right now and i think i'd rather blowtorch it than get up and find my headband.

9. i really liked 'LOST' and then i really hated it and then i was all into it last season, but the fact that i have to wait 9 months to see the next episode makes me kinda hate it again.

10. i'm ready for a change. a leap.

11. the other day, out in my garage, i found a spider that was like a mini tarantula. it was hairy and HUGE and its two front legs were black. then i died and went to heaven. (ooor maybe i almost blacked out with fear.) it was right where i needed to be standing to take pics for my vintage site, so i spent an hour getting up the courage to scoot it somewhere else. (it was dead, but FRESH DEAD. Not CRUNCHY DEAD. it was limp dead, people. like it could have gotten up and crawled away at any moment.) I tried to move him with a piece of paper but only pushed him closer to the wall and then died a thousand more deaths and ran inside to take a shower.

12. Then, a couple hours later, I looked out there and saw a beetle thingy that was monstrously hugenormous.

me lost in helmet.

13. i then vowed never to step foot in the garage ever again.

14. i don't like bugs.

15. i know they are good and necessary and the world would fall right off of its hinges if they didn't squirm in my garage or whatever, but i'd almost prefer a de-hinged world over having to see them with my eyes.

16. my brother jaxon doesn't believe in killing bugs.

17. the last time i saw him, i clobbered a wasp to death with my shoe. right under his nose. he didn't say anything, but i felt like a murderer the rest of the day.

18. is it just me, or is 25, like, old? somehow a whole lot older than 24?

19. five years from now, i'd like to be ___________________ haha just kidding I have absolutely NO IDEA. but wouldn't i sound all grown-up and fancy if i did?

20. twenty twenty twenty gallons of boogers have come from my son's nose the past week. if i never see another booger again, it will be too soon.

21. i started flossing a week or so ago... not because it's good for my teeth and gums, but because i have a dentist's appointment in a few days, and i don't want the hygienist lady to scold me for not flossing. because those hygienists are all psychic and somehow know when you haven't flossed in three years. or maybe the big giveaway is that my gums bleed whenever anyone so much as looks in their direction.

22. is this post really gross? it feels like everything i've said so far has been really gross or sort of gross. i'm not usually all gross and stuff. my apologies.

23. i plan to live brave.

24. i've always thought i was a homebody at heart but i'm starting to think that i'm actually a nomad. in homebody's clothing.

25. and... i think i'm growing up. (the scariest thing i've ever typed.)

i still make this face.

The DMV.

I take a number, I find a seat. We are all sitting in rows- like school without desks. I spy a sign on the wall. "Do NOT rearrange chairs." The chairs are lined up to face a brick wall. I've never felt so bullied by a piece of paper in all of my life. The sign seems to scrape away at my dignity.

I sip my coffee and read my book and hum to myself- slightly kicking the air with my crossed over leg. Someone smells like dog shampoo.

The man in the front row of chairs hobbled in on a walker with a full leg cast. He clumsily sits down with the help of his wife and immediately starts telling the teenager sitting next to him that he should never, ever, ever drive a motorcycle. He speaks loudly so all can hear. Six weeks in the hospital. Seems a motorcycle tore off his kneecap. The Boy looks frightened but listens intently. When the boy's number is called, he stands up sharply, looking a little pale, and says, "It has been nice talking to you sir."

I cannot help but notice the desperate love this injured man and his wife share. She pinches the sleeve of his shirt in between her fingers as if to hold him on the earth. She looks at him as if he's a man back from the dead. I think it's beautiful.

The A/C hums loudly above the rows of our heads. The legs next to mine have a nervous shake rumbling through them that distracts my eye. It stops. Then it starts again.

I can easily pick out all of the sixteen year olds who have come to take their first driving test. They all look like they might throw up.

Phones ring. I wonder about the people who work here- day in and day out. How do they come to a box-of-a-building day after day, demanding two forms of valid identification over and over and over again for years upon years? A life of repetition. Primary! Secondary! Primary! Secondary! Day upon day upon day. I am floored by their will power.

There is a paper in my hand that has a number on it. Six hundred and ninety seven. I am five numbers away from being called. How similar to my life this system proves... I clutch my number in my hand and wait. I wait for my turn. I sit in a row, I stare at the wall, and I wait to be called upon. I don't want to go through life as a number taker. My number was called the moment I was born and the longer I sit here, the shorter my life gets.

I want to be one who takes a number, then throws it on the ground- jumping up on my chair to lead the room in a chorus or a dance or a conversation. Someone who forces life into dead places. Someone who can say, "Hey! Remember how we are all alive and brimming with stories and wisdom and grace, but we'd never allow ourselves to know it because we're all so terrified of each other?"

We'd all bond and then pour out into the parking lot together like a gaggle of geese- laughing and patting each other on the back to brush off all the 'personal space' that has built up (like grime) upon our shoulders.

I snap back from my dream as another number is called, and I realize that I have a long way to go towards being the woman of my daydreams. I know this because instead of sitting tall and writing all of this boldly in my journal, I have been covering up what I've been writing with my 697 number tag. My usually tidy handwriting is sloppy and hard-to-read, only for fear of neighbor's eyes finding this page I write on and deciphering my honest words.

How do I get to that place where I can throw my book open and can say to my neighbor, "Here! Take! Read!", and then meet them full in the face with an emboldened smile and an alive heart?

I want to fear nothing.

... Nothing but the walls we slap up to prevent ourselves from sloshing over onto an unknown pair of shoes.

Misdiagnosis.

I am one of those people who is never late for things.

I am ON TIME, if not early to every meeting or appointment or gathering that I am a part of. If I am ever running behind, or cutting it close, I turn into a crazy ball of stress-on-a-mission (just ask my hubby), and I can think of NOTHING ELSE but the fact that I am soooo late and how I'd much prefer it if the world would just fall down on top of my head and squish me out of existence.

So. There's that.

Yesterday, I had a doctor's appointment set up for Ezra at 2:00pm. I planned my entire day around this appointment- putting Ezra down for his nap early and having his lunch and juice ready to go in the fridge and hiding all his new toys in the corner behind the piano so that I could easily whisk him out of his bed and straight into the car around 1:40pm with no meltdowns. I'm a planner, I am.

So, at 1:40ish, I went in and scooped Ezra up and transferred him to the car no problem. I felt like I was cutting it close, so I tried to make good time getting to the doc's office (AKA speeding). When I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed that there were no cars parked in front of the door, and I thought, "That's kinda weird! Where is everyone?"

That's when I looked at the clock in my car and realized it was only 12:55, not 1:55 like I'd thought. I couldn't believe it. How could I have been an hour off?? I figured everyone was still out to lunch, and that's why their cars were all gone, so now I had an hour to kill.

I'd forgotten my cell phone at home. I'd forgotten baby wipes at home. I'd forgotten extra diapers at home. And Ezra was in the backseat making 'the poop face'.

Things were falling apart fast.

I decided to go to Target and pick up a small pack of diapers (non-existent) and a travel pack of wipes and kill some time letting Ezra wander through the toy isles. Ezra was feeling miserable and has had a splinter lodged in the ball of his foot for a few days now, so he was slowly limping through the isles... looking like death warmed up.

I changed him and got him some juice and we wandered for awhile longer, and then I felt like maybe we could go back to the doctor's because we'd wasted about 45 minutes of time. We finally got back to the office and my clock now said it was 1:45.

I hauled my son out of the car along with a bag of toys for entertainment (Our pediatrician's office is STERILE and has NO TOYS whatsoever to entertain the kids with. None in the waiting room. None in the examining rooms. Not even any BOOKS for gosh's sake... HOW IS THIS LOGICAL?) Also in my hands: my purse, my coffee, and a sick toddler holding a juice box. I tumbled in through the door and went to sign Ezra in.

The receptionist looked at me harshly and said: "Name?"

I told her my name and then she said, "You do realize your appointment was at 2:00, don't you?"

"Yes!", I replied. "Why... what time is it?"

"2:50."

I think I almost blacked out from the crushing blow.

I. WAS. LATE.

I tried to explain that I had been here on time, but the clock in my car appeared to have been lying to my face so we'd just been wandering around Target to waste an hour and ohLord I'm so sorry do we needtorescheduleahhh?!?!

She looked at me over her wire rimmed glasses and said, "No, no. We'll fit you in. This time."

I slunk back to my seat and felt like a malfunctioning robot. Before they called our name to go back, Ezra managed to squeeze most of his juice box all over my tank top. It was not my day. They did get us in pretty quickly, wherein the doctor seemed to become convinced that Ezra had a horrible cough even though I was trying to tell him that NO, Ezra did not have a cough, not at all actually... he was just plugged up and I was worried about his ears.

This doctor always seems to get some idea in his head and then he's off and running with it and there's just no reasoning with him or bringing him back after that point, so he proceeded to prescribe Ezra some cough suppressant and some ointment to treat nausea. Nausea!? Huh? Who said anything about nausea? The only time he's thrown up is because he can't breathe from all the goo in his head and he starts to gag. I tried telling him this. Speaking to a wall. I kept asking the doc about his congestion and he said "Oh, just some over the counter stuff will be fine."

Great. Thanks.

I think it's time to find a new doctor, hmmm?

Turns out, Chris had changed the battery in the car the day before, so the clock was completely off.

At least I had been completely unaware that I was running so late to Ezra's appointment yesterday... If I had known it at the time, my head might have completely exploded right off of my body.

And then the doctor might have had to prescribe some cough suppressant for me as well.