Super Spy

Went to the movies today to catch up on Spy Kid technology.  Those movies always set my children off into a flurry of spy play - the gadgets and toys, the adventure, the potty humor.  Gets them every time.

I myself use one amazingly hightech spy tool. Some might call it a bizarre habit.

 I stalk gift registries. Baby or wedding or just because, Target or Macy's, Crate and Barrel or Babies r' Us, I love them all.  When I learn of (or suspect) a new blessed event on the horizon, I go through my list of most likeliest locations and start the process of entering names of all types, maiden names, married names, parents' names, until I get a hit.  Then I make myself a snack, and read through the wishlist, thinking thoughts like, "Ohhh, I didn't even know they made these!" or "Like anyone would ever buy that!" or "I thought I needed those too until I had to move them five times from state to state!" and then of course, "I wonder what occasion I could come up with to register for something like that!"  I wish I could say it ends there. The spying continues though, and I start looking up names of old friends and acquaintances that I've lost touch with, who perhaps, might be going through a registry-worthy change of life. 

I'm not sure why I find it so interesting to snoop and explore the wishful wants of another.  One thing I know for sure, however, is that it often leads to sighs of dissatisfaction as I pull out another towel that had innapropriately been mistaken as a puppy's teething toy, or set the table with mismatched glassware due to unfortunate dishwasher incidents and spoons that have been caught in the grinding teeth of the garbage disposal a time or two.  Just a furtive glance into the strictly theoretical Target stocked dream house of another (that  probably won't ever exist in reality!) can create those longings.  I'm like the child who WAS satisfied, until he takes his eyes off of the toy he is enjoying to see what is in the hands of another.  He gazes upon that eye candy of a toy, to then erupt into a screaming tantrum demanding fairness and equality and joy which could only be achieved with THAT toy, tossing his own aside to have two hands free to grab the loot.  It's gross really, how quickly one(ok, me) can move from content to deeply unsatisfied, just simply by seeing what's out there.

So now, I just try to stick to baby registries. That doesn't seem to provoke any envy at all. Just sweet memories, that really, I don't want to repeat. 

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus. Hebrews 12:2a

Facebook Addict

The blinking cursor beside the question "What's on your mind?" often makes my brain draw a blank. Do I have a thought? How do I pick just one, and make it concise and understandable and relevant to anyone? And then sometimes, I wish I could just tell the story behind what's on my mind, because let's face it, a twisted path with many extraneous dead ends often leads to a singular thought. I think the journey to that one thought can SOMETIMES be more valuable and inciteful and revealing than the thought itself.

So that is what this blog is about - the story behind the thought.  Me and Facebook. Facebook and Me. And my always growing and everpresent need to be understood.

Thanks for reading!

O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. Psalm 139:1

The Homestretch

The long trip after a visit with family always starts strong. Windows down, music loud, giggling and the most delicious snacks. Inevitably there comes a point, around the 7-hours-with-three-kids-and-my-husband's-music mark,when my brain begins to physically bubble.  Mercifully, as I near this moment of wit's end, I see a road sign to Interstate 79 which causes my energies and spirits to be renewed. I know then, I can make it. We're almost home.

I reached that same critical point in my summer today.  Two weeks of unplanned, unstructured summer togetherness, following two months of frenzied running to soccer games, swim lessons, play practices, speech classes, and theater camps, has felt long and cramping to my soul.  The spontaneous walks and adventures and playdates with neighbors and friends have been healthy and rejuvenating and an amazing use of time, but the path of chaos and clutter that follow my creative children throughout the house result in a tightening in my lungs and a clenching of my fists. Bubble brain.  I could start to feel it simmer.

But then today, I saw that tried and true roadsign of summer.  Today I announced the beginning of the "School Sleep Adjustment Process", because in one glorious week that shiny yellow beacon of hope would be making a stop just one block away.  These weeklong drills of stuffing children into beds at more appropriate bedtimes, despite the daylight which still peers in through the blinds, and waking them to sweet shrill tweeting of alarm clocks at the dark hours of morning are designed (and mother approved) to ensure a smooth start to their blessed voyage into the sunset of another year of education. The cranky, sleep-deprived kids in a vegetative state on the couch at 3pm only confirm the need for this process, and a slightly (some might say) cruel smile curls on my lips as I think, this is the homestretch of summer. I can do it.

Press on my friend on whatever journey life takes you today.

One thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what it ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3:13-14