Recognizing Full

Every night I sit down to dinner with my plate before me and I eat. If I liked the meal, I will get seconds. And I realize that I’ve trained myself to think I need more food than I really need–that I don’t even recognize what full feels like.

Every day I live my life the best I can; I play with my children, I clean the house, and I try my hardest to show my husband how much I love him. But every day I have thoughts that swim in my mind, showing me a future that’s a little better. The future when we’re out of debt, the future when the kids are a little older and slightly less crazy, the future when somehow Matt’s work/life balance is more manageable. And I realize that I’ve trained myself to think that the next stage will be a little better…I will feel full.

I fight this feeling because I know that I have everything I need right now to feel full. I’ve just stuffed my face so long with good things that I’ve stretched out my stomach, wanting to put one more bite in that will leave me feeling satisfied. Satisfaction is here. I have enough. I am full.

Linking up with the Gypsy Mama for her 5 Minute Friday where we write for 5 minutes straight without editing. I have to admit–I really want to cheat this week and edit this post, but I’ll stick to the rules.

Grateful

“I’m going to visit Ms. Wendy this weekend,” I told him as we sat on his bed, straightening up his room a little.

And he looked at me, eyes wide and then downturned. “But I’m going to miss you!” he cried, tears instantly streaming down his face.

I hugged him tight reminding him that our time away would not be long.

“I know,” he interrupted, having already calculated the time. “It’s two days. But I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” I said and kissed his head.

And I felt grateful, so grateful for this little boy who lives with his heart wide open, who’s not afraid to show every emotion he’s feeling (regardless of whether or not I want to see every emotion he’s feeling).

And I’m grateful for his daddy who will watch three little ones without protest, knowing I need this time away, knowing how important it is to me.

And I’m grateful for a Nana and Pop Pop who will make one day pass quicker with Chick-Fil-A and cow costumes and sleeping bags.

I have so much for which to be grateful.

And today, I’m especially grateful for a friendship, a friendship which spans both joy and sorrow. A friendship which no distance can sever.

For what are you grateful? Linking up with the Gypsy Mama for her 5 Minute Friday before I head out for the weekend.

Wonder

I’m linking up with The Gypsy Mama for her “Five Minute Friday.”The rules: Write for five minutes flat without tweaking or editing.

GO:

We lay in bed, two separate twin beds, three children crammed in sleeping bags between our beds, at the foot, beside us. And I looked over in that dark room at you, a tall man in that small bed, and you said, “You can come over here.”

And I excitedly climbed over kids to cuddle next to you, if only for a minute before we drifted to sleep. In wonder I lay as you wrapped your strong hands around me, wonder that you who had driven until three in the morning, tired and uncomfortable, loved me so much that you would exchange a good night’s sleep for a sleep holding your wife.

It was then that I knew how much you truly loved me; it was then that I knew I would be safe in your arms forever.

STOP:

We are on vacation for a long weekend, but I figured I could muster five minutes of writing! I was very distracted by a two-year-old who has suddenly developed separation anxiety–as in I cannot be more than 24 inches away from her at any given time without a meltdown ensuing. Nevertheless, I wrote what I could, and I look forward to reading and commenting on your posts later this weekend. Thank you for stopping by!

Contrary to Popular Belief

Today I’m linking up with The Gypsy Mama for her ‘Five Minute Friday’–a chance to write for five minutes without editing or changing around my words. I’ll just write, and you should, too! Come play along!

The topic: Every day

GO:

Doctors will tell you that kids need a schedule. I know all about schedules–they’re how I survive. I cleaned better when I had a schedule, and I get more accomplished when every slot in my schedule is filled with a task or meeting that needs to be completed. But the last few weeks, I’ve proven the doctors wrong.

Contrary to popular belief, kids do not need a schedule, at least my kids.

Every day since summer started, I’ve heard a little boy crack open his door and sneak downstairs to catch a few minutes of Jake and the Never Land Pirates. Every day I’ve hit snooze on my alarm, got to reading my Bible a little later, writing blog posts and sometimes not finishing in one sitting, and so I’ve let my little man sneak down those stairs while I scurry to throw on a pair of shorts.

Every day we’ve eaten breakfast at an hour that would better serve brunch. Every day three little kids round the table in mis-matched outfits or wrinkled pajamas from the night before.

Every day we’ve thrown our schedule out the window. Shall we go to the gym? Sure! or maybe not today.

Every day is a surprise; every day is full of laughter; and these every days are perfect.

And I say schedules are very overrated.

STOP:

I could’ve kept going with that one! What about you? Do you typically operate better with a schedule as I, or are you a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of person? Have you ever found freedom or enjoyment in trying to operate the opposite of how you’re hard-wired?

On Forgetting

I can’t remember anything. At least, the events I’d like to keep stored away in my mind. My mom will ask, “Jennifer, do you remember the time we went to ___ and you did ___” and I will answer, “No, mom; you know I have a horrible memory.”

What’s funny are the things that I do remember. I remember the time the boy in 7th grade made fun of my hairy arms (which incidentally, I never notice anymore but looked at in horror almost every day in my youth); I remember every argument my husband and I had while planning our wedding–conflicts over the guest list and comments that were made–yet we had never argued before.

And I wonder, if I could remove these negative memories, would I have more room for precious times like this…

and this…

The Baby Phat Coats — Mom tried to buy us coats for Christmas and bought us the exact OPPOSITE of what we'd like

Linking up with the Gypsy Mama today for her 5-Minute Friday where we each have 5 minutes to write on the assigned topic. (And now we all have proof that I’m one of the slowest writers in the world)