What a week! It's been a roller coaster of a semester and while some days the ride ends with a sigh of relief, a glimmer of hope, and a twinge of excitement, other days I feel like I could puke. This week's ride was one of them. I've been riding the hope train for so long, and every now and then reality sets in and takes the floor out from under you. It brings you back, keeps you real, and redirects your focus from the bad that's so easy to fall into, to the good that's sometimes right in front of your face.
I had experiences like this all week. Last night, after receiving another piece of disappointing news on the job situation, thanks to yet another faulty (lack of) communication by the leadership at UNI, I was sad, scared, and full of anxiety. On the way home, I prayed for peace, for answers, and for the strength to put work away and focus on the two boys waiting for me outside. And when I pulled up the driveway and saw the two of them standing by the grill on our deck, my anxiety started to fade away. I had entered my bubble, my protective bubble, where nothing else mattered but a hug from my husband and a kiss on my baby's soft cheek.
I talked, Beau reassured. I'm the worrier, he's the rock. I don't know what I'd do without him. And this whole time we're talking, I'm watching Cruz. By himself, in his own little bubble of innocent childhood, playing in the rain water that's accumulated in the hood of his Little Tikes car. Oblivious to the hurt, and stress, and disappointment in this world, content in the simple fact that he has parents who love him and toys to play with. I yearned to be in this bubble, to shed my adult skin and just play for awhile. So, I took off my shoes, sat like a pretzel on the driveway, and brought our driveway to life with sidewalk chalk. I pushed Cruz up and down the sidewalk in his car, and taught him to blow the seeds from a wispy dandelion into the golden light of the early evening sun.
For a moment I felt free. Free from the uncertainty of my job and the disappointment in the people making decisions regarding my job. For a half hour in time, I felt this magical sense of Kairos time, where nothing else seemed to matter but sidewalk chalk and a little boy in a bright blue Cubs shirt attempting to walk down the driveway with a bucket over his head.
I am so thankful for these opportunities God gives us. Small moments in time that allows us to see what's most important. They're truly present every day, but they take a different kind of lens.
This week, my Blue Jeans post is special to me. All simple, but happy moments to remember throughout the week.
"5 years. 365 days. 1825 happy moments captured."
Saturday: a trip to Target, with a cart full of love. The perfect pillow for my living room, a cake pan for an afternoon of baking, and some (must-have) supplies for our gardening adventures.
Sunday: Cruz’s first play date and some new friends. It's so adorable watching him interact with Harper. They love each other.
Monday: picking up Cruz from daycare was the highlight of my day. Somedays, I literally hyperventilate when I pull up to his center. I immediately saw him playing on the playground, and couldn’t wait to scoop him up in my arms. The feelings were mutual.
Tuesday: Cruz again. He had his first bowl of cereal with milk tonight, and afterwards, I tried to get him to drink the milk from the bowl. He thought this was hilarious and started giggling uncontrollably (the hiccups kind). Then, he thought it was even more hilarious when Jade (our cat) started drinking the milk from Cruz’s bowl!
Wednesday: Sidewalk chalk with Cruz. And a bucket. On an 18-month-old's head.
Thursday: a peel-off mask on my face and feet on the couch.
Friday: a much-needed teacher work day at Price Lab. A quiet day in the office and Texas Roadhouse catered for lunch (thank you parents).
Yep. That's them. The lights of my life (after Beau just 'lit' his hair on fire after getting too close to his grill). You can't see it, but he cinched it pretty good!
Happy Happy Friday to YOU!