My Little Tender Heart

You and me...well, we made it.  All the way to the weekend.  Hooray for you!  Hooray for me!  Hooray for Peter Pumpkinhead! (Why not?!...We found this gem at a grown-up birthday party we had the privilege of attending over the weekend.  So fun!  Keep your eye out below for the other gem I found there...the BEST little cola-alternative sugary pop to please the precious little hummingbird in me!)

To be honest, I think I got by on the skin of my teeth this week...and speaking of Crash Test Dummies, I didn’t just halfway dream a few times of the future afternoons I’ll measure out in my pajamas with coffee spoons and T.S. Eliot.  (In fact, I am already kind of practicing that out on Sundays.  I call it resting day.  Today has been a lovely, cozy, rainy one.  I spent it making a stromboli from scratch, homemade salsa, and a ready-to-cook lasagna and meatloaf for the week.  We now have a nice and easy homemade dinners into the sunset.  But I still considered it a "rest" day, because I was happily being creative in the kitchen.  And the stromboli was a hit with everyone, which made it all worthwhile, because that's rare around here!  So...Happy Sabbath!)

So, how was YOUR weekend?  

Me?  Oh...just, you know, the typical: I'm two glasses and two benadryl into my evening-wind-down-routine, just on the verge of passing out, when some crisis arises that requires my full, immediate attention.  So, this time, I ended up sleep-sewing the hole in a stuffed sheep, and pulling out my inner counselor, despite my zombie state, to console my 5yo son, with "soothing" Skillet music and a lovely discussion on death.  Because, naturally, the hole in the sheep led him to think about the fact that someday, his dearly beloved mother will die.  And all he could ask through his sobs is, "Will I still get to talk to you?"   
Through my heartbreak, I (naively) promised him that by the time I die, he will be older, will understand more and will be way more competent to handle the loss.  AND...since I will be with God, I will talk to God.  So, if HE talks to God and I'm talking to God, well...that's kind of like talking to me.  And by this point in my (life and) night, I was just impatiently waiting for the good Lord to go ahead and call me home, because I'm just about done with all of these impossible questions and  difficult conversations.  I have multiplied my opportunities for them exponentially over the years.  Listen, I don't know all of the answers, and there are some things I cannot possibly understand, let alone explain.  But seriously, I am endeared that my children are comfortable asking me and talking to me about ANYTHING.  I held in most of my junk and kept it to myself growing up, and that was a VERY lonely place to be.  If I make their lives a little less scary, a little less lonely, and a lot more confident than my own experience, I can die happy (FINALLY) considering myself the victor.  So, I'll take one for the team. the heat of the moment...I just I found myself wishing Mrs. Alexander were here, because somehow, she just magically seems to make all of my troubles go away.  Kindergarten teachers are amazing.  I learned how much so, as I sat in her classroom, as the counselor, wondering how I was going to turn that chaotic little scene into an eager group of engaged students.

Mrs. Alexander jumped in with slow, careful, pointed words, “Friends...I’m feeling a little sad.  Does anyone know why I might be feeling so sad?”

Evan (cheerfully), “Because we aren’t obeying you.”

Right!  And like magic, the class got it together.

I tried her same strategy at home that night with Evan when he wouldn’t go to sleep.  (This time, just wiggly and ornery.)   I looked right into his eyes and said, "Friends...I'm feeling a little sad."  

It just freaked him out.  "You are NOT Mrs. Alexander.  You are my mom!"  

True.  So, I resorted to back to my own harrowed self, pulled my hair at the scalp and begged in a pleading shout, “JUST GO TO SLEEP!”  

We will discuss the meaning of life and eternity tomorrow, my dear little KINDERGARTENER.  🤦‍♀️🤷‍♀️😭


It's been a short weekend for such a long week. I experienced some frustrations I am not completely at liberty to share, but...suffice it to say, I've got a lot on my plate.  On top of all my severely early back-to-school mom duties and my new counselor role, my beloved work is requiring more and more out-of-home activity.  It's that time of year!  Fortunately, I got my annual home-office organization project done just in time!  Still, I am stressed and anxious, and not fully convinced I can handle it all.  (Oh, of course I can't...we'll pray me through it...just look at what we accomplished last year!!!)

I think I'm just nervous because of my own keen awareness of my bent toward failure.  And I sooooo wanted to do well.  Perfect, even!  To my chagrin, I all too often discover I am not.  For example, I made a resolution at 7:30 this morning, which by 8 am, I had broken.  Typical me.  At least I run in good, biblical company on the whole "what I want to do, I don't do; what I don't want to do, I do" mindset.  

But...thank you, God, for grace.  If my success depended on me and my efforts alone, I wouldn't stand a chance at coming anywhere close.  As it stands, I have to look around me and think I am doing pretty well, if "only" by the grace of God.  

I got this!  Have a good week, homies.  I will be right there alongside you in heart! 💕