a blip

This is Betty, one of Paul's business town cars...

This is how we found her earlier this morning...

I'm sorry, but WHO DOES THIS?!?!?

When I got over the initial shock that someone with nothing better to do on a Friday night happened to stop at my house and chose my husband's shiny black car, as the canvas on which to vomit vulgarity in silver spray paint, I was bummed, then angry.

"Why would one do this? HONESTLY. Who is the despicable jackass who has such little regard for others, no bearing outside of himself, no concept of submission, reverence, consideration or even a shred of common decency? HONESTLY?!?! Who is the arrogant coward who has the audacity to behave so maliciously or perhaps flippantly, in either case, SO disrespectfully?"

Whoever he or she or they may have been weren't considering my husband, my children, my neighbors or me. They weren't considering the fact that this was one of the first Saturdays in months that my husband didn't have to work - that he actually got to relax a little and sleep in - that we made plans to spend the day as a family. There was no regard for the fact that this car is literally a vehicle by which we put food on our table, clothes on our backs and that this unexpected expense is not really one for which we have extra time, room, resource or energy. He or she or they never stopped to think that this "good time" would rob peace from my neighbor's sunny Saturday morning as she shook her head in disbelief pondering - even if just for a moment - the safety and security of our neighborhood. Or did he or she or they think of how it might pierce my husband's heart - even just for a moment - to have "f*** you" be some of the first words written into his life this morning... or how it would break my heart to see a seed of sadness in the eyes of this man I adore when he asked me, "What did I do?"... or how my daughter would experience genuine disappointment as her daddy was heading out the door and she said, "I thought you were going to have breakfast with us today, Dadda."

Well, whoever you are, in spite of your disregard for me, for my family, for my neighbor, for my neighborhood, for my day, for my property (I could go on)... I'm done with you, and I'm moving on.

We're over it, and we're over you.

The paint will come off, your worthless words will be washed away and your miserable life will continue apart from ours. This post is almost over, which means that you are an all-but-forgotten blip on our radar. You will not steal another precious moment from any of us.

I'm going to go enjoy the rest of the day with my family.

blogged

Not sure how it happens so fast, but I'm back-logged... I'm blogged once again.

At least ten posts are dancing around my brain, and somehow, they need to find there way down to my finger tips or off my camera. In time.

It's been a BUSY few weeks. The pace is a lot faster and fuller than I'd typically care for, but lots of GOOD stuff is going on. I told Paul earlier tonight that I just feel eager and excited when I think about life . Opportunities and possibilies are endless. I feel genuinely delighted when I stop to think and to process. It's a good place to be.

How are YOU?

My students just left a bit ago. Class 4 in my Bradley series. I LOVE this class. It's comprised of three totally intriguing, totally diverse couples... each investing time, resource and self to become aware and informed participants... PARENTS (rather than passengers) in childbirth. I still can't believe I get to do this. I get to be a part of something so sacred - over and over again. Tonight was sweet. It was tender. It was funny It was inspiring. It was awesome.

It's 10:35 now, and I'm sleepy. 9+ posts are still stewing, brewing and waiting to be born. Not tonight... ah well.

Nah-night.

closing thoughts

Paul is working, the kiddos are sleeping, the dishes are done, I'm prepped (somewhat) for class, and tonight, my house is still and humming with silence.

A few minutes back, as I brushed my teeth and washed my face, donning jammies and a do-rag, my mind wandered from place to place...

"Today was a good day... hmmm... I have to remember to email my students before class tomorrow night... I should go do that now so I don't forget... OH, I also have to remember to call Sarah about Friday... It was so good to talk to Sara yesterday... so good to see KTB today, too... hmmm.... Maybe I will read a little before I go to be tonight... I'm sleepy, maybe not... I did it!... I finally found a pair of shorts... I wear shorts?!?!... I really like those shorts... why are they so wrinkled?... a linen blend, OF COURSE... I really don't like the light fixtures in here... I'll definitely need to add them to my list of projects for the house... hmmmm... Cole doesn't have a baby book... I can't believe I STILL haven't started it... He's 2... Second children - they really do get the short end of the stick sometimes, don't they?... I wonder if he'll even care... He'll care... I'll add it to my list... Hmmm... Something must be done about my eyebrows... GEEZ, look at these things... Since the tweezers are out, I suppose I should check my chin as well... Oh... oh... oh my, they're back... 1(ow)... 2 (ow)... 3, 4 (ow, OW)... good thing I have dark skin... wait... 5, 6?!?!... That's IT!!! I'M A MAN...
I've got to go write about this..."

Alright, goodnight.

being transformed

Yesterday was a big day for my family. Not only was it Father's Day and Cole's 2nd birthday, but it was also a day marked by victory and breakthrough for me.

Six months ago, in jest, I stripped down to my skivvies and put myself out there for the world to see. By mid January, with all joking aside, I made a decision that the time for change had come. There was no turning back.

So, eighteen weeks ago, I began a life-transforming journey... a journey that ended (and began) yesterday. I haven't written much - well anything - about it, because I wasn't sure how to put words to it. Actually, I'm still not so sure. The short of the long is that 18 weeks ago, I began the Prism Weight Loss Program.

When I started this program, the daunting task of dropping the 28.5 (not 15) lbs. I picked up over the last six years was before me. What I didn't realize at the time was that my weight had very little to do with the journey on which I was set to embark. The last 18 weeks have been spent releasing a lifetime of baggage - dealing with and truly discovering ME.

Today, I am a new person. I have been freed from a TRUE addiction to refined white flours and sugar (yes, ME). I have been freed from the snares of emotional, uncontrolled and purposeless eating. Today, I am healthy, whole and triumphant. Perhaps for the first time in my life, I have taken total responsibility for my choices and actions, I've changed my perspective, and I've seen positive fruit in my life, my family, my friends and my future as a result. I have beheld and embraced the woman God created me to be, and today, I am closer to her than ever before.

I am being transformed.

Yesterday, when I stepped on the scale for the fifth time since I began this program, 34 lbs and a lifetime of hidden defeat, discouragement, frustration, lies, guilt, shame, negativity, ignorance, insecurity and bondage were gone. Today, His mercies are new, His spirit is here and a new journey of truth and liberty begins.

I am grateful for the 127 days and the lifetime struggle preceding them that have brought me to this point. I am grateful to Kristin, who in passing spoke the word "Prism" into my life over four years ago and to my Father for bringing to mind at the PERFECT time this word that lay dormant in the depths of me. Today, I am grateful for my four dear friends who have recently begun their own journeys.
I am grateful for every other life that will be impacted by each of them.

Yesterday with laughter, tears, hope and gratitude, my family and I celebrated a monumental day of life, love and liberty. It was a day we will never repeat, but always remember. I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings.

eleven days

1 day, 2 days... 5 days, 6 days... 8 days... 10 days... ELEVEN DAYS LATE.

I spent the better part of the week before last absolutely FREAKING OUT as I tried to imagine life with a newborn once again. In fact, I'm having hot flashes and breaking out in hives just thinking about it.

It's not that I didn't love that time. I did, but I'm glad it's over. There was something - many things - SO sweet about those baby days. But for me, there is something even sweeter about watching my babies become persons. I love to watch them walk, talk, play, run, think, reason (sort of)... engage. I loved cleaning out my basement and giving away our baby stuff. I LOVED saying goodbye to diapers the first time, and I CAN'T WAIT to do it again. I have loved discovering the special little things that make Maya, Maya and Cole, Cole. I try to treasure every day, but I am also so eager to watch their lives, their stories unfold.

Well, in case you were wondering, I'm not pregnant.

Cole turns two in eleven days, which means that a week from Sunday I will no longer have a "baby" in my home. Wow.

There is a part of me that still can't believe it and even feels a twinge of sadness about it. But for the most part I feel glad. I feel relieved. I feel thankful, and I feel blessed. I have been given an amazing daughter and an equally amazing son. I have been given 3+ years of the indescribable blessing of parenthood and hopefully, a lifetime to come. I no longer have babies, but kiddos.

At the end of those eleven days, was a minus sign - a sign that affirmed that it's time for my family to move on - to move forward. That feels good. REALLY good.

So, this is what doesn't feel so good. The fact that Cole turns two in eleven days means that I had two babies the last time I had somewhat professional pictures taken of my two kids. It's been a year. A year?!?!? Perhaps it's time to head back to Kiddie Kandids.

Is it hot in here?

straight and narrow.

Long ago, before the day of modern farm equipment, a prarie farmer was capable of plowing straight furrows.

"How?" I asked myself this morning.

At daybreak, he would ascend a hill, climbing until he reached its peak. With the expanse of the praire beneath him, he would drive a stake conspicously marked by flag into the high ground. Then, traveling downward, he would make his way back to his plow.

With an arduous day of work ahead, in the golden heat of early morning, he looked only to the flag. Pressing ahead - a remarkably straight path behind him - he would plow until he reached his destination.

I think that's pretty profound.