confession from an "auntie litter" parade drop out

Recently, Matt began a recycling initiative in our house.  This falls under the category of “things I cannot handle”, but apparently recycling is a passion of his and so, whatever… we’ll do it YOUR way!

I have been reprimanded many times since we came under the new law.  It seems that my idea of recyclable goods does not meet his standards.

I heard the familiar crunch of container on cement as he hauled the can up our driveway tonight.  Mr. Eco-friendly came thudding into the kitchen and glared at me.

“You are BANNED from the recycling bin, Amanda.  I mean it!  You may not put anything in it, or even TOUCH IT ANYMORE!”

First of all, I really thought he was going to say “BANNED from s-h-o-p-p-i-n-g”, so I was instantly relieved.  And also? I hate recycling.  I win.  But, I don’t like to be told I can’t do something, so I pressed in.

“What? I’ve been following all your ridiculous sorting policies! Seriously!”

“An ENTIRE CANDLE does not go in the recycling bin!”

Shocked, I began to laugh.   “Are you KIDDING ME? Do you know how many things you can make with melted wax?  Clearly you have never done any sort of craft, ever.”

“Neither have the people at the recycling plant, babe.”

There were other violations cited.  Not to be missed- food, unwanted clothing and Styrofoam. 

So…..I don’t know WHAT kind of system you people have in place… but I see some serious room for improvement.

a life lesson

When Mills and I got home from school today, we snuggled up and started our naptime routine.  But, he just seemed off.  Once I read a list that was something like “Questions to ask your kid so they learn how to communicate otherwise they will grow up to be a big-fat-jerk and fail at life.”

I’m pretty sure this was on that list.  “Did something make you feel sad today?”

His face burned red and his eyes filled with tears. 

(Who knew?? These lists actually work!)

“I pushed Emily today.” 

“You did what??”  I launched into the third degree.  Obviously he’d committed AT LEAST a Class C misdemeanor and I needed to take ACTION.

I was prepared to dole out allllll the life wisdom and set him straight. (or not.  But you’d better believe we won’t have people think we house a push-er under this roof.)

And then I looked back down at my son. 

He smelled like grass and cheese indicating he is a big boy, but his cheeks were all puffed out and that reminded me he is just a BABY.  And I went with that.  I wrapped my arms around him and squished him up to my face and began to tell him that he is so loved.  We talked about how we all make mistakes and the best we can do is try better next time. Enormous tears rolled down his beautiful face and I reminded him he is a good friend and a caring boy.  He picked his head up and said, “I not, Mama.  No I not.” And then he dropped that sweet head down in shame.

In that moment, a few things happened. 

My heart shattered in a billion pieces and I could not take a deep breath because everything was all tight and squeezy inside.  I should be feeding him a bottle right now, not talking about real-live STUFF.

I wanted to personally track down Emily and push her EVEN HARDER for making my child feel this way. (you know, because he pushed her.  #rational)

And, I got a glimpse of how God may feel about His children. 

So...I spent the last 3/4ths of my life thinking God was this stern angry-ish executive-type and generally unconcerned with me until I screwed up.  When I DID blow it, I pictured His blazing eyes burning down from above as he face palmed and said to the heavenly hosts, “Yall! Seriously?  This girl is a train wreck.  Please remove her from my line of vision.”

Until today.  Today, when my child cried over hurting someone else, I felt love.  That is all.  I was so proud of him for telling me his story.  I was overwhelmed with sadness in the wake of his pain.  And also, I wanted nothing more than to help him. 

And if I, with every single flaw and limitation known to man, responded that way… well, I may have this whole, angry-stern-God thing completely wrong.

Mills asked to paint Emily a picture tonight.  I watched him swirl the colors around and move out from under the burden of the day.  And it was beautiful.

express checkout

I am in the middle of writing a blog post on infertility and I just remembered the most hilarious story…

During the first few years of our marriage, people often said, “So, do you have any kids?” in small talk.  

“No,” I would always reply. “Not yet.”

Some of them, feeling especially brave or bored would follow up with, “Why??” 

Most often, I’d shrug my shoulders and mumble some benign response to appease them.  (We want to wait a while, travel, save money…. Blah blah blah!) But sometimes they would catch me right in the middle of a fertility treatment, hopped up on hormones and coffee, and I just couldn’t any more. 

“Because I CAN’T!”

I said that three word sentence time after time. 

And then one day…

One day I was checking out at the grocery store.  Geneva scanned my People magazine, chocolate and six pack of Diet Coke, and began the dreaded dialogue.  After I answered, her hand paused over the register.  “Well honey?” she tilted her head and thought a moment longer, looking puzzled. “Are you sure you’re doing it right?”  I stared at her, my mouth hanging open.  “You know… “doing” it right.” she emphasized while shaking her hips.  (And just trust me on this one, Geneva’s hips DO NOT LIE!)

I learned something from Geneva, though.  First, avoid her aisle at ALL costs.  But also, unsolicited advice is a dangerous thing.  When given recklessly, it becomes a weapon. (or, at best, a terrible sight someone can never unsee.  ever)  So I try and refrain whenever I can.  I think most people are probably already the expert on their situation by the time I enter the conversation.

And also? I wish I could tell you she was the only one to say this to me.  Not true.  So, if you are saying this to random women you meet in the grocery store… STOP IT! 

Carry on.

Some girls have it all

Me watching the Bachelor 

"Ugh! I mean these girls are gorgeous, but don't you think he'd want someone with half a brain??"

Matt

"Well, either way it would be awesome to fly over the Grand Canyon like that."

Me

"Wait- they're in the Grand Canyon?? How do you know?"

Matt

Blank stare. 

"I'm just glad I got a girl with 

beauty AND brains, babe."

grocery run

I made a massive grocery run the other day and was feeling super domestic-ish. When Matt came home, I wanted to let him know what all we had.  After guiding him through an extensive tour of the refrigerator, freezer and pantry, I noticed that he was standing in the middle of the kitchen blinking too much.

“Are you going somewhere?” He was sort of squirming and looking around with darty eyes. “I mean, are you sick? Are you leaving? Leaving US?? Oh my gosh, what’s wrong? Are you leaving?”

This, people, is my husband’s response when I show up with groceries.

And this is the exact reason I am winning mother and wife-hood! I win.

Gray Matters

This week, rumors of an impending local protest have restarted the barely paused conversations of the Ferguson trial and all that surrounds it. Hash tags came back in full force pitting #alllivesmatter against #blacklivesmatter.  As arguments brewed on news forums and social media, I sat on my bed and in an instant,watched socially correct fall away and hate arise. Though I desperately want our city to be a changed place and our society racially friendly, when issues like this surface the facades fall away. 

I am certainly someone who feels ALL the feelings… and it is a temptation to jump on a side of an argument and FIGHT! In my earlier years, I’d be willing to go on a warpath, leaving bodies in my wake strictly to make a point.  But, now I have a different lens. 

My family isn’t “white” anymore.  And we aren’t “black” either.  We are both.  I’ve been given a gift of entering sacred ground where I can see a bit of both sides. Not just from a racial stand point, but in all areas of my life.

And I’ve learned that it’s in the gray where things change.

In life, there are times where we feel so passionate about an issue, that we would do anything to see change.  I know.  I’ve been there.  And although my friends and family didn’t necessarily understand or even agree with the issue, they loved me and therefore supported my cause. 

It’s sort of like when your boyfriend played a sport in high school. You didn’t give a rip about soccer or sports or all the athletic-y stuff, but that boy had your heart.  So, you never missed a game.  Were you a soccer fan? No. You were a boyfriend fan. 

I’m learning we can either support issues or people. Some issues may never change while we are here on earth.  But people… our PEOPLE are all we have. We belong to each other.  So, if someone I love needs to take a stand for something I don’t understand? That’s ok. I will stand too. Maybe I don't even agree with them. That's ok too. Because I know that some day soon it will be my turn, and when I look back, I’ll need them behind me saying "I'm with her. Her voice matters." I'll need them to believe in me, in spite of their beliefs.

I learned a new word this week.  It’s called the Mandorla.  This is an ancient symbol of two circles coming together, overlapping one another to form an almond shape in the middle.  It symbolizes the interactions of opposing worlds and forces. To step into the Mandorla is to move beyond "either-or" thinking - even beyond ideas of common ground or compromise - and stand in the tension of opposites long enough for something new to emerge.

I just keep thinking about what a difference we could make if we were brave enough to step away from our “side” and towards the middle. What if we let go of a stand, and held on to our neighbor? Even when it didn't make sense?  What if we let down our guard, surrendered our right to be “right” and boldly waited in the middle.  I don't think we'd be alone for long. I'll bet we’d look across and see others slowly walking toward us….entering the middle circle, willing to believe in change. Willing to believe in gray.

my kid doesn't have to be good for santa

I was finishing up therapy the other day and went to check out. Ok, fine.  I was at Target. But, I’m pretty sure even my therapist would tell you this is a recommended course of treatment when used correctly.

Mills was with me, and the lady helping us said to him, “Santa is WATCHING YOU, you know… you’d better be a GOOD BOY! Mama, is he being GOOD?”

I started sweating. For the first time, my child- my baby- was being launched into to the goodenough gauntlet.

“Well of course he is! But what a ridiculous question!” I sputtered. “He is Mills! And he has been exactly who he is supposed to be every day of his life! You should really stop leaning over the children and asking them the scary things!”

Both Mills and Miss Target were giving me the “you’re so crazy” face, so I wheeled out and shoved all of us into my car.

What are we doing? Far sooner than we’d like to admit, our children pick up the monologue some may never be able to shake…
-am I good?
-am I good enough?
-do I deserve goodness in my life?
-do I deserve punishment?
-do I measure up?
-AM I ENOUGH?
-... and on and on and on.  If you are anything like me, I am still trying to untangle all those thoughts and put some better ones in my brain.

Am I going to speak an identity over my child of good vs bad that may be a temporary fix for behavior but could lead to lasting shame?  Am I going to lead him to believe that God, also, is watching and judging him… making a list and holding record of his wrongs? AND let random Target ladies in on the torture? NO WAY.

I looked back at my little wide-eyed-feisty-headstrong-loving-rowdy-rough and tumble-sensitive-spirited-beautiful boy and said this:

“Mills,
Your Papa and I are so proud of you.  Today, right now, after you threw your cookie at me and tried to spit in my diet coke, I love you more than I ever have.  I want you to grow up and be kind and brave and responsible and all the things.  But I want you to know above it all, YOU ARE ENOUGH!  Right there in your car seat, you are enough.  In the trenches of your middle school years, you are enough.  In the highs and the lows, your behavior will never merit our acceptance of you.  We are delighted in you.  Ok?”

He got really still and nodded.  And then he threw the rest of his cookie at me.

So many times I need Matt to remind me that I AM ENOUGH too!


author's note: mamas... you know that my heart is YOU! the above statement reflects me alone.  if you need santa to get you through the holidays, you better believe I will dress up like the angry elf MYSELF and come get those babies in line for you!  it's all about making it through the day.  we are in this together!