Relishing in His Goodness: Don't Fret. Smile More. Give Thanks.

Being a parent teaches you the art of diversion, don't you think? You won't hear me bragging much about myself (my mama raised her girls up on plenty of humble pie) but I have to say that, after having four biological kids and many bonus babies, I'm confident in the field of diversion. I caught on quickly when my first-born learned to throw tantrums in her toddler years. Nothing says "It's time to get out the bubbles." like a two year old throwing a tantrum.

Jacob had a moment of missing his daddy, come on quite suddenly, this evening. These moments are the most difficult for me because nothing hurts worse than seeing your baby hurt with such dismal woe. He wasn't in the mindset to articulate his feelings this time around so I soothed my boy the best way I knew how and told him that his mama needed to dance. "I sure would love to have myself a dance partner! Know anyone who wants to boogie with his mama on this make-shift dance floor?!" A few minutes later, Ray Charles was singing about having a good woman way over town while my boy and I danced his sorrow to sleep, for the night, and laughed until our bellies ached.

When we finished I said, "Shoo, I don't know about you but my soul feels so good after that! Thank you for making this memory with me tonight. I sure did appreciate that!"

A few minutes later, he asked for my hand. With a proud smile on his face, he slipped a broken key chain on my smallest finger and told me that he was going to love me forever. Oh...my heart. It seems as though my baby boy has become pretty good at the art of diversion himself.

After a thankful hug, Rollercoaster by The Bleachers filled our space with a welcome invitation to another memory making silly dance and we happily obliged. I live for moments like that. It's the stuff that makes my world go round!

Please fill my life slap full to the brim with moments, just like that one, Lord.

I recently started taking a class that focuses on meditation and spirituality and energy. I'm taking the class with my oldest adult baby. It means so much to me that she and I are doing this together. Since the class, I'm more conscientious of my own energy and what I'm putting out into the world. It's no surprise, to anyone who knows me well, that I have a diagnosed chronic case of anxiety. Mostly social but not limited to. My thoughts tend to run rampant and tirelessly. This has heightened with the pandemic and, of course, after the trauma of how covid personally affected my family, last year. I find myself apologizing incessantly for the inconvenience that my anxiety may cause to other people. I hate this aspect of my life and of my mind.

But...I'm CONSTANTLY working to improve upon this. I acknowledge when my thoughts go awry. I do so much talking to my Father. Furthermore, I have some of the most precious people in my life, who are a constant support to me, as well. The fact that I am blessed beyond measure is not lost on me. And the class...taking that first class made me very much so aware of how damaging my anxiety has been to my esteem and happiness. How much it has hindered my spirit. I spend a tremendous amount of time attempting to create this world of love, security, balance, and happiness for my children, in spite of my mental health issues. But, I've neglected to do the same for my own mind and soul. I am looking forward to seeing how my soul continues to navigate itself through the perspective that this class will surely bring.

"There is no passion to be found in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living." -Nelson Mandela

I've been meaning to post these pictures. I was soooooo sick of the kids bathroom. It was a horrible beach theme that I regretted almost immediately after completing. It was a themed request from our two youngest children, however, after one really fun week at the beach. It stayed like that for a couple of years and shall never return! Bye bye, beach! Hello Farm-ish!

Kudos to my oldest boy for helping me complete this project! He's my best big boy. :)

We were behind on our Universal Yums boxes so we did two boxes at the same time. Our July box was India and our August box was South America. We enjoyed the latter of the two, the most. Everything was delicious in the box from South America! These are just a few photos from those boxes.

It's a right of passage for fifth graders, in the U.S., to get lessons for the thing that every parent dreads. The plastic recorder. The good Lord knows I love me some music. But, a plastic recorder being played, for the first time is, dare I say it?...an obnoxiously loud sound.

But just look at my baby. I'm gonna plaster a smile to my face when that baby tells me that he wants to play a song for me...even if it's the only song he currently knows and he's played it for me two hundred times in the course of three days, already. God bless the many music teachers who work tirelessly teaching fifth graders how to play the recorder!

Gotta share something that made me laugh. After a trip to PetSmart, one morning recently, I had myself a hankering for an iced coffee, so I ordered one online (online ordering is perfect for a person with social anxiety! I love it!). I went through the drive-thru, a few minutes later, and was handed my iced coffee by the sweetest young lady, who was just as pleasant as can be. I didn't even notice the sticker that was placed on the lid of my cup, when she handed it to me, until I started to put the straw in. The same lid that contained the straw hole. Such a bummer! "No worries", I told myself. "Easy fix." I pulled into the nearest parking spot and proceeded to peel the sticker away from the lid but, as luck would have it, peeling the sticker only pulled the top layer off and left the sticky layer separating me from my craving while my anxiety separated my brain from the normal rationalization that would have told me to simply go in and ask for a new lid. I skipped getting the new lid, unsurprisingly so. Instead, I took a few satisfied gulps before returning the stickered lid, to keep my coffee contained, and waited the thirty-five minute drive back home, in what felt like deprived agony, before finishing that piquant cup of iced Joe. I call that a lesson in safe driving and strong will, y'all.

I was looking through Darrell's Bible and spotted several verses that he had highlighted throughout. I loved this one in particular. I wish that he would have written notes in the margins, just so that I could read his thoughts, but I was grateful for what he left nonetheless.

I reluctantly cleaned out his side of the closet. I didn't get emotional until I got to his military jackets. That's where we began. He looked so handsome in his dcu's. Seeing the collected dust on the shoulders of his jackets hurt. I cleaned each jacket off with a lint roller, fastened every button and then placed them into a dress bag. They went right back into the closet beside the many works shirts that I'm unable to part with. Each shirt reads his name that is neatly embroidered on the right side and the company logo to the left. Also still on his side is the hanger that holds seven or eight of his work hats. I donated all of his shoes and gave the boys what was left of his jackets/coats and dress shirts/pants.

I'm gonna close with a quote that my oldest girl sent to her mama on a day when I needed it most. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.