I am alive.
My brain feels like this:
My drivers license is expired, and I grew a zit on my chin today. There are probably more important things to report, but please refer to the previous picture.
I have looked at so many houses that I will dream about opening closet doors all night long probably.
I like to look at this:
And eat this:
(Except mine was one of those “sharing size” packages, and I didn’t share with anyone.)
That’s all I’ve got.
How are you today?
No, it has nothing to do with family services or anything like that. (Just in case that was your first guess.) I was a hero. Well kind of a bumbling, awkward, and maybe a teeny bit screaming hero, but a hero all the same.
I went to the zoo yesterday with my children, my mother-in-law and 3 nieces and nephews. There was supposed to be a shark feeding, so we headed to the aquarium wing. There’s a display part in the middle that has sharks (not the man-eating kind) and stingrays. To set the scene accurately, they’re all about the size of a standard bed pillow. The tank is open on the top, and probably about three or four feet deep or so, and maybe overall the size of a putting green. A fairly large display. Kids can stand on the side and put their hands in the water and if anything swims near to the top, you can stroke its back. But it’s quite deep and usually the creatures are all out of reach. Believe me, we’ve stood there for hours before because Grant just couldn’t go until he made contact.
Well.
Yesterday, I walked up behind my own children just in time to see a little girl to Grant’s right go up on her tip toes, bend over the glass and reach just far enough that she FELL IN THE SHARK TANK HEAD FIRST! Her feet were up in the air and over the edge of the glass so she was literally submerged upside down and couldn’t get her head back above water. After my tiny (but very brave) scream, I bent over, reached all the way down into the water grabbed under her shoulders and pulled her head up out of the water. Then I lifted her up and out of the tank.
I will try to refrain from social commentary when I say that some lady from the day care she was visiting with looked at me, came over from across the display, walked away with the girl and said NOTHING to me. My shirt and pants were wet, and I was a tad freaked out, but mostly unharmed.
This may not actually sound that heroic to anyone, but just about a month ago I had a slight panic attack while canoeing on the river because I have a phobia of contact with lake and/or river and/or ocean creatures. And I saw Jaws. So I think I deserve some kind of good citizen medal or something for flinging myself into a shark and stingray tank.
Put your house on the market.
Seriously, if you were looking for a way to get out of blogging, making dinner, or any other important life plans or obligations, just decide to sell your house. You’ll spend 73 hours a day priming, painting, cleaning, decluttering, planting flowers, making phone calls, and stressing yourself out of your mind.
Thanks for all your great comments and advice on my previous post. I’m working through my uncertainties, mostly by doing my as-willing-as-I-can-muster-up part and putting the rest in the hands of God. He usually gets it right.
I will post some before and after pictures later and you’d better oooh-and-aaah over them as if I’d just given birth. In the meantime, please be patient with me. The few brain cells I have left are currently being destroyed by paint fumes.
p.s. The second the house is actually on MLS, I’m packing up my children in the van and driving across the country to my parents’ house. Keep my house clean enough for showings at any given moment? *snort* I’m no fool.
oh, and one more p.s.: I know I’m being cryptic about the details– Partly because of privacy/safety and partly because some of the details of the potential move are completely contingent upon selling the house. I don’t want to get ahead of myself yet. I’ll fill in the blanks more a little later down the road.
That’s a fancy way of saying totally unorganized and random.
Cuisine, deconstructed:
Architecture, deconstructed:
Blog post, deconstructed:
So we went camping in the rain anyway (no plan B, remember?), and it turned out fine. The weather was dry when we left town, and it only ended up raining one afternoon. Luckily I’d packed a lot of “in case it rains” items, so we spent the time reading, playing games, having coloring contests, etc. (Only slightly-snarky side note: Matt spent the time napping.) Otherwise, we hiked, played, toured, and canoed on the river. I will not go into the canoe experience because I have an unnatural fear of rivers and lakes and all of the unseen dangers and probably creepy things lurking in the water that is not transparent. and nightmares of my children being swept away in the current while I pathetically paddle in the wrong direction trying to save them. My stint in the canoe was a tiny bit shorter than the rest of the family. I tried, but I probably should have been medicated first.
I’m headed out today to teach at EFY, which always makes me excited and a little bit on-the-edge-of-throwing-up nervous. (Last year, I actually did.) I’ve taught two of my talks/classes before, and two are new material, and I’m just hoping no one throws tomatoes at me.
I am now getting a grip on my summer master plan and, when I get back from EFY, I’ll share more of the details with you. (Since I know you’re just sitting on the edge of your seats wondering “Whatever in the world could Stephanie be doing with her days this summer?” I know. The suspense is unbearable.) It’s an attempt to find a happy balance between scheduled and flexible.
Anyway, in the meantime, I started reading a book by Camille Fronk Olson called Mary, Martha and Me. I’m not too far into it, so I can’t give a full recommendation yet, but I wanted to share a quote I really liked:
“Jesus Christ is the one needful thing. What does that mean amid chaotic daily agendas and anxious uncertainty for the future? The world urges us to strictly follow step-by-step formulas to achieve success. In striking contrast the Savior taught, ‘Come unto me.’ In my life of never-ending responsibilities, I do not need another checklist (derived from scripture or anywhere else) to define the Lord’s role for me. I need Him. I do not need competition that scrutinizes my productivity versus another’s efforts to make me a valuable employee; I need His strength., His wisdom, His grace to perform work that will make a difference.
… The message of Mary and Martha is not a generic, black-and-white answer to align me with one or the other of them. On the contrary, they give me confidence to ask God directly what He wants me –specifically me– to do.”
And, p.s., the summer gods are smiling on me today because it is 7:45 a.m. and my children are still asleep. Yep, you heard right, we passed the threshold of 6 am. Praise be. I just heard beds squeaking upstairs. Party’s over.
Diapers and Divinity 