May we find our only tears to be those of joy

(so a little update - after the fact - and after a cheeseburger and chocolate malt to calm my nerves.  I did not spend the evening crying in case you were worried.  Instead I had dinner with a sweet 12 year old and thanked God for the moments of love still in there.  Because I know he can turn on me at any time as well... enter the teen spirit.  But I know that despite the immediate worries that parenting sometimes brings, there is a longer view that I have to take.  And I have to remember that just like me, these kids are a work in progress. 
And yesterday's conversation with the 13 year old that ended in me pulling the car over to the side of the road and giving him the biggest reason I get frustrated.  I think it went something like this... 

I. WILL. PARENT. YOU. TILL. THE. DAY. I. DIE. LIKE. IT. OR. NOT.  

And maybe he laid in his boy scout tent last night and pondered ways to rush that along a bit faster.  But till then.  I'm here.  And I'm present and accounted for.  And committed.  And .... trying each new day to keep up with the duties of motherhood.  So read along below.  This may be the saddest post EVER.)

I've had a discouraging few days.  And I sit here kinda thinking about crying, but kinda thinking about how I don't want to get all that started. 

And I just sent off 3 of my guys camping for the weekend and that always brings me worry.  Worry for safe travel and worry for whatever else I can worry about. And the last image they saw of me was with red curlers in my hair trying to get ready for a date with the kid that didn't go camping.  (Once my husband passed out cold giving red blood cells and the nurse couldn't wake him up.  And interestingly, the images he heard and saw as he lay there dying were of his niece - not of me.  So I guess I needn't worry about my velcro curlers being his dying thought.)

Rough day at work today.  And for that I'm praying for a sense of peace that right now I just don't have.  And my feelings are hurt.  Because that still happens to adults.  

And I think my 13 year old hates me.  Or at least acts like it.  Or maybe he's just acting like I'm stupid.  I can't really tell the difference.  But gosh it's an uncomfortable place to be.  And once again I'm considering crying.  Maybe right now. 

So y'all, this blog isn't always filled with words of inspiration.  Because they're just my words.  And those can be all over the map as blown around by the storms of my days.  And I like to be a big talker about how we're put in this exact place at this exact time for God's specific purpose.  And in my mind I know that's the real truth.  But the circumstances of my right now are yelling lies super crazy loud at me.  Lies that tell me I don't have a clue what I'm doing. 

And I need help remembering that I can only see part of the story.  The bits and pieces of my last few days.  And somewhere hidden by my running mascara eyes, the truth is there waiting for me.  The truth that even the smallest little bit of myself offered for the glory of God can be turned into something huge.  And good.


For your weekend.   May you feel loved.  May you feel important, trusted and valued.  May you know  worth that comes not from circumstance, but from being exactly who you are - a child of an amazing God that hopes and wants and wishes his all for you.  

May we find our only tears to be those of joy.  

Love to you today.

  

And obviously Sears sends along a pack of ants with each new appliance purchase


A friend said that we - as in us, the angels, pirates, thieves and their parents... lead the most interesting lives.  And I think I smiled and secretly thought she must be crazy.  Or maybe I said that out loud.  Because sometimes when I write things on here, I tend to not write things on here - because it doesn't come with a lesson or a meaning.  It's just stuff.  

And we all have our stuff.  Like when kid 2 told me the muffins I just made are disgusting because I used wheat flour.  That's just stuff - from a mom trying to add a few healthy years on to the lives of my kids.  And when kid 1 pushed kid 3 into a wall or closet or somewhere out of my view this morning, and screams followed, that's just normal stuff too.  (Then kid 3 locked kid 1 out of the car and the battle continued all the way to the bus stop. Then I threw them out of the car and drove away as quickly as possible.   You can totally see tire tracks in the parking lot.)

But I love that someone thinks we're interesting.  I tried to watch that Duck Dynasty show ONE TIME.  And that's all they got... because all they did was sit in a field and wait for a turkey to shoot.  And there went an hour of my life that I'll never get back.   So I am overly thankful for y'all who give your time to read....our stuff.  I stand amazed in your presence.

So y'all  - last year we had fleas - and I swore I was gonna sell this house if we couldn't solve our pestilence problem.  Which we finally did.  Till now. Since we got a new dishwasher.  And obviously Sears sends along a pack of ants with each new appliance purchase. 

And today I lost all patience and cooked my ants a poison apple pie.  And each person who comes home later, I need to remember to tell them NOT to eat that pie on the counter.   

And over the weekend someone in California used our debit card to the tune of    $500 ish.  And we live in Texas.  So it wasn't me.  Which is the very first thing  my husband asked when I got home from the grocery store.  Did you?  No I DID NOT.  But the bank caught on quickly and stopped any more debit hanky panky on the west coast.  

And earlier in the week - the biggest day of my husband's life - even topping the day he met and/or married me and the birth of our children - was day one of the fire department promotional exam.  For y'all non-fireman readers, it's like the world wide knowledge test of firefighting...where the winner takes all.  And possibly gets a promotion.  

So he was all excited and ready for his mid-day report to duty time - till young Christopher called from school - having just found Daddy's car keys in his pants pocket.  And I have no idea why.  Because he's 12, and he can't drive.  And the middle school is a school bus ride away across town.  Which in a situation like this just seems like a bad choice on our part.  

But a wonderful fireman friend came to the rescue - a friend who drove fireman David to my work to get the extra key - and saved the day -  as the firemen always do.  All in a 5 mile road trip.  

But now we know that the extra key we thought we had only opens the car door.  It doesn't start the car.  And now we know to not send a kid out to daddy's car to look for his baseball pants before school.  And... we saw a wonderful example of true friendship.  And y'all that's the big one.  

And in recognizing who our friends are - I should ask myself some important things. 

Am I a person who gives without hesitation, who shows up upon request no matter the need or time, and acts from my heart, not bound by my over-committed schedule?  

Because when we least expect to be seen in such a light, the bright light of truth - the big reveal - our true character will either shine for good or - not. 

And as good as it is to have a network of folks to rely on and trust,... in order to develop and maintain those relationships, so must others be able to rely on me for the same. So I need to start looking closer at that.  That part of me that I'm not sure I know the answer to right now. 

A friend loves at all times.  Proverbs 17:17




And I'm pretty sure I smelled burning flesh. All in the name of beauty.


Not long ago I had a day of insane hair static and an unseemly rash of Biblical proportions.  Think leprosy.  On my neck and chest so I couldn't hide it or from it.... and the only person who would talk to me while I was out shopping was a lady trying on shoes who didn't speak English.  She wanted to know if some super high heels looked good on her and if I could help her reach down to fasten the buckle.  

We did all that pretty much with eye contact and improvised sign language, language barrier and all.  But she smiled and her shoes looked cute on her and she wasn't afraid of my rash.  And now I love her forever.

And the sad thing about it all is that I may have done it to myself.  Like the episode from the old 1960's Batman TV show where Penguin ties Batman and Robin to the scales of doom to drop to their deaths in a boiling tank of acid - I slathered my sun scorched parts with some new stuff and had a freakish allergic reaction much like the boy scout pot luck dinner incident of 2012.  And I'm pretty sure I smelled burning flesh.  All in the name of beauty.  

Or was it all in vanity?  Maybe.  Probably.  Because fear of aging is a disease that strikes all females of a certain age..... like all of us who know every single song from 1977.  



And those of us that totally dig retro chic dresses like this one.  (And use words like dig in modern conversation).


So another year came and went, which is much better than the alternative.  And a friend hosted a little party for me over the weekend that was very nice and special to be thought of.  And I enjoyed the evening and the cake and the sweet gifts, but more than that, I came away with a certain memory that I will forever keep.... the Happy Birthday song.  Sung by three families of neighborhood friends - to me. 

Because when it was time to fill in the birthday girl's name in the song, my  name, I heard 3 different versions.  Happy Birthday to ... Kristi ... Mom ... Mrs. Walters......

And it reminded me that these years I celebrate today have filled my life with many different roles.  Always changing as time moves forward, but for now I fill the role of wife, mom, friend, coworker, neighbor, mom of the Walters boys, and all around good gal. 

And time keeps marching on, and knowing myself all too well, I'll probably continue on the anti aging quest of doom.  But the flip side of the story is the good part.  The beautiful part.  The part where getting older brings to mind memories of both good and bad, but of times well spent and useful.  Times of joy and sadness, times of strength, and times of change.  But all in all, times of my life.  

And I am thankful today for those years - and though sometimes I may wish to change the look of them - I wouldn't change for a minute, the feel of them.

Y'all, panic isn't afraid of dreams and plans. But I've found that in my weakness, I find a reminder of God's super strength

So it seems another birthday is coming round again soon.  Another one of those I'm a year older than last year kind of days where the kids - the sweet one anyway - tells me that I'm not old.  And husband tells me I'm still beautiful.  And they all last minute like get me a chocolate cake so I don't have to make my own.   

But bigger for me than a birthday, and what I'm celebrating most this year, is the defeat of a monster.  The slaying of my own personal dragon.  The ugly truth I hate to turn into a pet by giving it a name ... Panic.  

Unexpected, uninvited, unwanted panic.  And with it, strange things happen, and in even stranger places..... like getting my son's hair cut.  Or sitting at a restaurant with friends.  Or on vacation.  Or even at work where I super love what I do. 

And I never thought I'd be that person.  But I never thought I'd scrub this many dirty toilets in a lifetime either.   So if I may quote Forrest Gump here, "Life is like a box of chocolates.... you never know what you're gonna get." 

And my box happens to have anxiety.  Not even chocolate covered.

And for a while I was scared to death that panic was gonna be my new normal.  And that I'd become like the proverbial crazy cat lady and have to wear a medical ID bracelet naming my disorder in case I caused a scene in public.  Because panic and anxiety appear out of nowhere - and can surprise any of us.  And when it happens, and until you can convince yourself that you're not in that very moment about to meet your maker, it can be a terrifying, crippling experience - that I could never have understood till it happened to me.
  

But it's been well over a year now since I got some control over it.  And THAT, my friends, deserves to be recognized and celebrated.  And spoken out loud because someone just may read this honest, tell-all post someday and wonder what the heck is going on with them, too.  The sudden increased heart rate, the shaking, the gasping for air, and too much energy to sit still - that whole fight or flight sensation all moving into your happy place, totally uninvited.  Like you're about to be eaten by a lion. 

And before a giant incident that finally got my real attention, I had a few little hints of things along the way.  And the sweet family of firemen that I love around here, bless their hearts, have made one too many trips to our house to check me for what I swore was a mid afternoon, before dinner heart attack.  Which it was not.  And they just told me to drink a glass of wine.

But a little over a year ago I was on vacation with my family, and actually had a day of shopping and relaxing to myself.  And it happened as if it were scheduled into my day - right after breakfast and before that cute little store I wanted to visit.  And with no way to get in touch with my family because they were having their own manly kind of fun that day.  So I was nameless and homeless, sort of, and scared, and didn't want to be the gal that the paramedics took off to the place where other nameless crazy women go - where I would die all alone.   With a tag on my nameless out of town toe... and never having had the opportunity to shop in that cute little aforementioned store.  

And it upset me to think my family would still be having fun somewhere, clueless to my demise.

Big thoughts and lack of oxygen to the brain made it all seem so real.  And so  incredibly huge.  So I got on the hotel treadmill and ran.  And ran and ran some more.  (Again, far too much like Forrest Gump.  Run, Kristi, Run!)  

At first I decided a hot bath may do the trick but once I was in there I decided I didn't really want to die naked in the bathtub -  think Whitney Houston -  so the treadmill was my next best choice.

So here is all I know about panic attacks....  They may or may not be caused by stress.  But it appears to happen to both women and men, though more often to women.  And hormones can play a part so women in particular stages of life may get to enjoy it more often.  And there are theories that panic attacks or panic disorder is a type of post traumatic stress syndrome - the brain working out the bad stuff.  And each person handles stress and trauma differently.... so you may get an irritable bowel, I happen to hyperventilate.   I actually prefer neither.  


And sometimes I worry that it may start again - popped up out of nowhere.  Or that it might show itself in another form.  And I can't even imagine what that might be.  But I'm sticking with the hope that it wont. 

But I know I won't die from it.  And that's a big step in the right direction.  And I know that when I feel it happening, I can talk myself into a better place.  And it truly is a better place.  Confidence came from it, and a lot of thought and faith building.  And this blog.  Which is so often my talking spot. 

And I didn't really make any big plans to change behavior or thought processes or time management or any of the other theories on managing stress.  But along the way I did back off on some volunteerism with church and school.  And I backed away from being the gal who can't say no.  And for the first time in a while, I said no to lots of things.  Which turned out to be a gift. 

And no big decisions to change much of anything else, either.  No new beginnings or resolutions on health or parenting or faith or much of anything really.  Because y'all, panic isn't afraid of dreams and plans. 

But I've found that in my weakness, I find a reminder of God's super strength.  And for me it usually takes some awkward and sometimes surprise situations to remind me that I'm not the one in charge of everything.  That I can't be the one in charge of everything.  That I am simply the hands and feet of a God that loves me enough to run along side me on that hotel treadmill till my heart rate regulated and my family found me there all weird and worried.  But I didn't run it alone. 

It's another gift of God's amazing grace to take the most unexpected and sometimes unwanted situations and turn them into something worthy of praise.  


Celebrating life's little victories.....  

(I actually began writing this months ago.  And I stopped and started and never published it because the whole panic attack thing comes with baggage.  And it comes with a name tag that I will forever wear once I put this out there for the world to see.  But now I'm okay with that.  And with me.  For who I am, and all that entails.  And it is truly my hope for anyone who has or is struggling with this or similar, that you know that you are not the only one.  You are beautiful and wonderful as you are.  And this little bump in the road is just that.  Not a mountain.  Not a permanent wall or a monster that has to grow any bigger than you allow.  You are seen today - for who you are and where you are - by me.  And by the God that created you to be exactly this.  My love to you on this day for all that you are able to overcome and accomplish.) 

I'm one stomach flu away from my goal weight. The story of our spring break.

One time on vacation Sam got so sick that we had to call an ambulance.  And another trip we spent forever in the tiny emergency room in Eureka Springs, Arkansas to get Ethan diagnosed with after-regular-doctor-hours pink eye.  

And there was that unfortunate trip to Sea World where we medicated poor baby Christopher every 4 hours to get our money's worth out of the expensive tickets.  The VERY SAME trip that David came down with a mystery illness that the doctor thought was a rare and debilitating thyroid condition.  Which it was not.  Just a plain old sickness - not of the rare and debilitating kind.  

And all we ever wanted to do was go on vacation. 

So on day one of this trip  - by noon - my stomach throwing a fit - and me thinking of jumping out of the moving car.... we had already stopped 5 times and only 2 hours from home.  And I resigned it all to a vision of things yet to come.  And little Sam let us know that he can't take this anymore.

But let it forever be known that one stop was totally not my stomach's fault...as we made a dangerous side of the freeway pullover to bring in wet luggage from the rain.  Rain that my husband swore and bet on his first born child that wasn't going to happen. 

So we finally arrived and found our retro-tiny hotel room.  (Like the old Holiday Inn motels that my family would always cram into on trips.  And my mom would spray everything down with a can of Lysol before we could use the bathroom.)  

But in this spring break bathroom, if we so chose, we could sit on the toilet and take a shower at the same time.   Maybe one of my kids did.  


David said it looks like a rock band slept here. 

Everyone shared beds and one kid slept on his boy scout cot by the air conditioner.  And Sam went to bed with crackers in his pocket and that was good for at least 10 minutes of commotion.  So day one of travel wrapped up - with all of us watching Paul Blart Mall Cop in our pajamas and everyone beat down by 8:30. 


The forecast highs of 70's were closer to the 50's most days... but the boys braved the pool anyway.  Because they're crazy. 

And they played outside like there was no tomorrow.  Which is what every modern day mom wants for their boys. 

And David and I read a lot, and took walks and discussed things like if we would save each other from a bear attack or a falling tree.  And my selfishness was apparent in this area but husband is totally committed to fighting a bear for me.  And we decided if one of us gets crushed by a tree on this particular walk - the other one probably would too - so no need to speculate there. 

And on day 3 we rented a paddle boat and a canoe and had to return to shore about 20 minutes later to trade out fighting brothers and vehicles.  But out there on the water with me and the kid that usually has only words enough to tell me he's hungry - or needs new school pants - we had opportunity to discuss family, and love and trust.  And I was truly surprised to hear him admit that no matter what he says sometimes, he would always be there for his brothers.  And he even used the uber anti-teen words, unconditional love

Yet somewhere on that third day... as obvious payment for some former evil committed in my life.... my first day stomach virus came back to life like a scene from the Exorcist.  And I almost died, and I cried a lot.  And the people in the next room wished they could move. 

And I think at one point I begged my husband to kill me.  But instead he rubbed my aching muscles and took care of the boys and in his own sweet way, fought a bear for me.

And I hated for my boys to see me in such a low place.  But crammed into tight spaces is where our togetherness is most tested.  And I would've crazy loved an updated Hilton or even better, my own home, at that point.  But in the darkness of those nights, all 5 of us in the same tiny room, when the lights went out, their little hearts came open.  

And I got the rare opportunity to listen in on the nightly routine of my three boys talking themselves to sleep. 

For your week...


Happy Spring Break, y'all.

Not even sure I completely understand what lent is. Because I was raised a church going, worshiping...... BAPTIST

Not even sure I completely understand what lent is.  Because I've never observed it or even much thought about it.  And the whole ashes thing is a total mystery that I'm working to unravel.  Because I was raised a church going, worshiping...... BAPTIST.  
Easter was much like Christmas for me growing up.  It just came.  And went away when the food and decorations got put away.  

 And it meant new dresses and shoes and Easter baskets.  And pictures in the park with the azaleas in bloom.  And we always went to church on Easter morning and then had a huge meal with family that lasted all afternoon. 


And we hunted for eggs - the real kind that we boiled and dyed the day before.   And that no one really wanted to eat.  No plastic eggs, and no sir, there was no Easter bunny at our house.  Never even heard of such till I was a mom and apparently I was supposed to give Easter gifts to my kids.  Which my 13, 12 and 10 year old will tell you they never got.  And they can add that to their list of all manner of ways they've been deprived. 

So growing up Southern Baptist in a small Texas church, needless to say, I never heard of lent.  Or advent.  Because back in the day, Baptists just  celebrated things for one day. 

(And by the way, I'm not picking on the denomination.  I'm still very much a church going, worshiping, hymnal singing baptist - but a different brand.  And where we are now, our church observes all the newness of things that make me curious.)

So I'm trying to learn now, as an adult.  Yet as a child still in my faith, learning how to grow that faith.  Learning how to strengthen the things that are already deeply there, but not sure why.

So just reading a bit recently,  here's what I've learned about lent. (Coming straight from the mouth of an under qualified, non-specialist in the area of almost everything.) Because I want to know, and feel, and understand the full gift I've been given as a believer in Christ... 

Lent is the 40 days leading us to Easter.  A nod to the 40 days that Jesus wrestled in the wilderness with the devil.  40 days of an open ended story - leading us to the final happy ending of the resurrection.  


It is 40 days for us to place ourselves in the story and wrestle with our own doubts, insecurities and losses.  Beginning with Ash Wednesday, which in simple Kristi terms, appears to be an opportunity to humble ourselves before God, admitting our weakness and need for him.  Showing humility in the presence of the power of God.  

So lent is much like a 40 page unfinished book that we are left to wonder the outcome.  But really, most of us already know.  And that's exactly why the season of lent is a huge part of the story.  Because there can be no ending with true meaning and impact till we understand the characters and events that brought us there.  There can be no rejoicing till we have seen the despair.  There can be no fullness till we have experienced loss, and there can be no peace till we have suffered heartbreak.   

I never understood the debate of what to give up for lent... a diet coke, maybe? It seems like the sacrifice should be something of true value - a little piece of ourselves - material or otherwise - that every time I reach for it and have to deny myself, I have to ask for strength from God to let the temptation pass.  Again, another nod to Jesus' days of wrestling with the devil.   


But I think the value of sacrifice is to give up something of ourselves so we can focus on what is truly important.   Giving in a small way, ourselves to God, so we can take the focus of life off of us.  And re-focus on the importance of the life of Christ as it was offered for us. 

So today we begin 40 days of waiting for the ending.  Of waiting for the light to shine again in a world covered in darkness.  40 days of wanting something that we don't yet have  - so maybe we can love it more when we receive. 


And I really don't know what my portion or participation may be this time around.  Probably not much.... can't teach old baptists dogs new tricks, as they say....  But maybe on the inside something is finally breaking free for me.  Some part of me ready to set aside Kristi, and pay attention to the days ahead remembering that they were lived especially for me. 

Meet Naked Cowboy. He might be on to something.


I ran into this guy the other day.  Just a guy out working hard trying to earn a living.  As a naked cowboy.  Which I found fascinating and had to have a photo op.  I also suggested to my oldest, the guitar playing son, that maybe he can earn money for boy scout camp this way.  


And this afternoon I'm wondering if naked cowboy may have life pretty easy out on the range.... could be simpler out there just naked, playing the guitar... than being on a snow day stuck in the house with three kids.  He might be on to something.  And I might ask if he needs an assistant.

So right now one kid is in the corner.  Another kid is in the opposite corner.  Because all *&%$ broke loose around here.  And there was at least one headlock and several mixed martial arts moves involved.  And one kid is in the bathroom pretending to take an extra long time so maybe someone else will carry out the trash. 

And there was actually no snow at all today, but the schools closed anyway.  Creating havoc and distress city wide among parents.   And I know that all around town, parents are nodding their heads in agreement that we need to look into a good military school.  

So post fight, we went with time out corners - like toddlers.  And I am currently taking ideas in the comments section on other unique and useful ways to break up fights with 3 bigger than mom boys. 


We've had screams loud enough to scare the dog, pillow fights with my expensive Pottery Barn pillows, football throwing in the living room, lego throwing at the brother in the opposing corner, and a full wrestling match over who ate the most muffins.  


I've heard who is -  and who will one day be -  a better football player, a better baseball player, whose head is biggest,  and that we're all gonna get sick because the milk wasn't fresh.  And I quit listening around the time the conversation pointed toward the world revolving entirely around them.  

(And it happens to be 22 degrees so it would just be mean to throw them all outside.)

I'm the first to tell them when I don't like the things they say or do  -  or in the case of homework and chores, the things they don't do.  But then I'm their biggest cheerleader in telling them that there's nothing they can do to make my love change.  I may have to take a short shopping trip or walk around the block to rekindle the flame, but it's always there.   

And maybe you have one or more in a corner somewhere.  Maybe you also have one that likes to hide out in the potty.  But this I know for sure.... that we all have our mom moments no matter the age - theirs or ours.  And I thought it would get easier the older the boys got..... and I will say that much of it has.  But then they surprise me all over again and again and again.... and I am still, this many years into the game, at a loss for what to do.  

And this is why I write about motherhood..... because it's always there.  

Thankfully. 


So I read in the news this week that Kim Kardashian's butt won't stop growing. And I'm worried for her.

So I read in the news this week that Kim Kardashian's butt won't stop growing.  And I'm worried for her.  But news like that makes me take comfort that my problems seem small in comparison.  Here's our end of the week recap... for inquiring minds....  

Did you know there's an eye disease where the eyeball tries to turn itself into skin?  The good news is that my son does NOT have that.  And neither does he have pink eye.  It just looks like it on occasion.  He has some other odd body thing where the immune system thinks something is going on when it's really not, and the body attacks itself - in this case, the eye.  So we're on it now.  Now that we finally have our health insurance restored after the unfortunate clerical error with the insurance company.  Eye condition non contagious, by the way, just weird, so you are free to kiss my kids now.

And the whole eye exam/glasses purchase for me turned into a circus of anxiety producing proportions.  Not at all interesting enough to write about...


but I did end up at another great optical place in town, small, long standing, locally owned - and walked out all Hollywood like in these great Prada frames.  

Husband was nowhere near to comment or complain and he has already promised to never shop for glasses with me again.   Problem solved. 

And to finish out the week.... I met a certain young lady in the grocery store parking lot.  And none involved drove away happy.  (And I almost didn't publish this particular post  - but then thought about it again.... it's one of those crazy world we live in situations that I have to tell someone about for it to fully make sense in the brain that it really happened.)  And yes, my friends.... it really happened.  And yes, there are people in this world that, though made in God's lovely image, are not putting their happy faces forward.  So I'm sharing.  Read on and gasp in disbelief.......

All because of the lower salt fritos.... that my kids didn't like....

I decided that if I smothered them in ground meat and cheese and called it frito pie, the boys would eat it and it would make for an easy Friday night meal.  And I wouldn't be wasting a perfectly good bag of fritos. 

So I drove into the grocery store parking lot - going the CORRECT direction down the lane of traffic, and met a young lady head on driving the WRONG direction in the lane of traffic.  I like to call her stubborn girl.   

And she apparently wanted me to be the one to back up.  And I was thinking no to that-  feeling  newly empowered by my awesome shades.  So stubborn girl sat there and pretended to check her manicure.  And waited.  And blocked traffic.  And waited some more.  And I looked in her car at her unbuckled children climbing all over the place and decided I could wait also... now that I was trapped in there anyway.... The ground meat would still be there in a few.  So we called it a car to car showdown.  

And traffic backed up behind me because no one could drive forward past stubborn girl.  And finally a concerned citizen went in to find the grocery store security officer and we all still sat.  All while my kids were at home, hungry and playing endless video games without my supervision.   And I wondered if maybe they might get hungry enough to just eat the low salt fritos. 

So the store manager came out along with concerned citizen and told stubborn girl that the police were on the way.  Stubborn girl tells concerned citizen to load her groceries in the car and mind her own business.   

And after a lengthy grocery store stay where I ended up with absolutely no food whatsoever, the young lady decided it best to move her car.  And she still never buckled her climbing toddlers into seat belts.  And my kids ended up eating grilled cheese.  

(And yes, my husband does frown on me mixing it up in parking lot situations....) 

Showdown complete.  Who won?  Absolutely no one.  



May your week bring you warmth, sunshine, healthy bodies and positive experiences all around.  May you spread your beautiful light around as the hands and feet of God in a world full of craziness and anxiety filled moments.  And wishing you a weekend of togetherness, rest and peace in knowing that no matter how stressful the days can be,.... we are held in the hands of the one that loves us and cares for our every thought.  

Y'all, let's spread some good stuff out there.
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