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Tuesday, March 25, 2014

It's too early for this

It's amazing how many people are at an airport at 6am. 

It's not exactly something I think about on a daily basis - the sheer number of people that make their way through the airport every day. But it's my world this morning. 

Yesterday involved last minute errands, a grocery store run so Daddy wouldn't have to while I'm gone, and kissing my hubby and kids goodbye. Then a 4 hour drive, dinner by myself at my favorite Mexican restaurant in the world, and a fruitless attempt to sleep. 

*Note to self: A hotel near the airport I Albuquerque also means a hotel next to the Air Force base. Which means helicopter flyovers all. night. long. *

This morning that alarm sounded way too early. But I'm now sitting at the gate with my mocha and my bible, contemplating this journey God has me on. 

This is the first time I've traveled by myself in my life. I'm headed to Texas to spend 6 days with 30ish other women on a guest ranch, seeking the heart of my Daddy. This will be the longest I've been away from my kids, the longest I've gone without talking to my hubby. But my heart and spirit yearn for this time. They ache for the removal of the every day distractions, the things that pull me in every direction but to Him. 

Words cannot express how grateful I am to have a husband who not only allowed me, but encouraged (and sometimes pushed) me to go. For parents and friends who are willing to wrangle my minions. For the sheer opportunity. 

This will be a journey unlike any ice ever taken. But I'm as ready as I'll ever be. 

Friday, March 7, 2014

Catching up


So, here's what this crazy crew has been up to lately:



We've learned about the human body by building them.




Mom went to an 80's party and ROCKED IT!



Madi started gymnastics.



Violet started ballet.



And Nina started jazz dance.



The dog got dressed up...


A few times...


Ok.  This happens more than I should admit.



We officially became sponsors for our favorite balloon crew,


And got to chase/crew for them at two different rallys.



We got all dolled up in support of our favorite team,


Then had to share in the pain of defeat.



Madi confirmed my suspicions that we will need good health insurance for her later in life.



I made chocolate covered strawberries.



Jerome made crepes.



Violet made me cry.
Translation: "God is coming down to me.  I believe in God. One day I saw God, so I'm now in peace and I have faith in God."



The snow (finally!) made me attempt to be a photographer.



And my sweet kitties getting along made me smile.


And I wonder why I'm so tired at night!













I have got to get better at this

I happened to look through my blog posts last night.  

22 posts last year.

1 post this year, so far.  

Whoa.  What happened to the days when I was posting 3, maybe 4 times a week?

Dang.  I better hop back on this wagon.  

But it got me thinking.  Why should I even keep up with this silly thing in the first place? 

I remember, 4 or 5 years ago, when this blog was my life.  I used the funny things that happened to us to escape the pain and the battles in my heart.  To pretend like was all sunshine and giggles and unicorn farts (just thought I'd throw that in there to make sure you're paying attention), rather than being real.  Real was dangerous.  Real hurt.  Oh sure, occasionally I'd write a post that might hint to reality.  But I made sure they were buried deep between the fluff and giggles.  

And I lived in fear of being "that" friend.  We all have that friend.  The one whose life is so much worse than everyone else's, who sucks the air out of the room through their need.  And so, in my twisted view of reality, I hid everything rather than being real and honest and raw.  

But neither extreme is healthy.  We were never designed as relational beings to stay at either end of this pendulum.  We were designed to balance in the middle - real and raw, honest and empathetic, caring and cared for.  

Thank you for sticking with me as I try to find that balance.  My heart longs for this outlet - writing allows me to process and express what, sometimes, I cannot say out loud.  And my girls do some crazy silly things that just need to be shared.  Like this: