This past weekend was a busy one...it was a major concert weekend for that guy that I like so much, our oldest was here performing, basketball season has started and there was just lots going on. We (that guy that I like so much and I) snuck in a lunch and over vietnamese spring rolls (which I can't seem to get enough of...that SAUCE!) sat and stared at each other.
Stared.
He was too tired to even talk. I was too tired to even talk. We just ate, stared, hugged goodbye and went our separate ways for the rest of the day.
Real life is groovy sometimes.
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Our fridge needed a repair and in a moment of 'I am woman, hear me roar'...otherwise known as 'there is no way under the sun that I am going to give away any more money this month', I fixed it myself.
OK...so I changed a few bulbs and now every time we open the doors we are blinded by the light and it seems to be the talk of the town. We're nothing if not dramatic around these parts.
And here's where life takes another little side trip. I've been a bit of a disaster lately...there's just been this heaviness that I haven't been able to explain. Part of it is that life in our little house on our little street is in a place of transition and while I'm feeling prepared, there's this sense of not knowing that's not exactly been easy.
We've got a boy who is in the midst of leaving the nest in a very good but very permanent and faraway way and the timing is literally just a text message away. As a mama...hard.
And for me, it's caused me to think a lot. And question a bit.
I want everything to stay the same...but then again, I don't. I'm not sure that makes sense but maybe to some it does.
So in the midst of a post concert getaway, we decided to spend a late afternoon at the happiest place on earth. Just the two of us, sitting at the Cove Bar, eating lobster nachos and sipping cocktails. We had lots to talk about and in the middle of one story or another a phone call came in that completely changed our little world as we now know it. Again. Because just when I feel like the floor underneath me is strong and my feet are planted...the boards crack.
And this time they broke.
We were stuck. Literally. We needed to get home and couldn't and in a moment of panic called our middle born boy who not only handled the situation but handled it in a way that I can't even explain. That text message that he's waiting for...the one that will tell him to pack his bags and ship out, the one that has me so stressed out because of the change that it will bring, the one that just this morning I asked God (again) when and why and what the heck is the timing on all of this?
It all became clear. He was needed for this moment.
And so now we are once again on high alert here in our little house on our little street, patching together a floor that has fallen out from underneath us. I'll be honest...I'm weary. Weary but hopeful...this parenting gig just never gets easier. If not one thing, it's another...but man oh man, do we have people who love us and our little family.
I'm realizing now that this disconnect I've been feeling...this distance from God that I haven't been able to explain has been a form of preparation of sorts. In fact, it is so clear that it's almost like the new, blindingly bright light in our fridge. He was strengthening me this whole time, getting me ready, waiting. And when the call came that shook us once again to the core, there was this sense of peace amidst the panic.
We've got all the tools to handle this. The floor is cracked but it's nothing that can't be repaired. Those repairs, quite frankly, are not exactly convenient and not exactly easy...but we've got a pretty great contractor heading this whole thing up.
I'm thankful this morning. There'll be some grumpiness that will come, too...pretty sure these boys of mine will never know how much sleep they've caused me to lose. There's work to be done and a team to rally and a character to be molded. All will be well.
Good morning, friends. Let's do this.
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