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2026: I won’t be good at anyTHING (with flashback to my DIY Valentine’s wreath)

January 15, 2026 by Monica 1 Comment

Now, assuming you haven’t left me because of the cryptic title of this post, I’d like to welcome you to the New Year!

I’m so looking forward to a fresh start, a new beginning, and a chance to get things right.

The past year was full of flubs, flops, fails, fixer-uppers, and fun. I pray the fun is what the family remembers…

The potential highlight for our end of year adventures was a long overdue trip to the Festival of Lights at Bull Run. I haven’t had the chance to take the family there since we only had the “O.G.’s” – the original 3, as they call themselves.

Hubby said, ” YOU take June- she’s at the sweetest age- you won’t want to miss this. Well, that sounded like a good enough season to keep her with me ( we had to take two cars down the farm) so we packed everyone up, and we headed off.

All was well, even sailing down 66 West on a Monday night, which doesn’t ever happen. And then, magically, no traffic getting onto the property for the lights. “This is going to be great,” I muttered to myself with emphatic positivity.

Urch. If only….

I will spare you all the details but highlight the ones worth repeating.

Immediately as we hit the park ticket booths, June yelled at an octave most high sopranos have to train years to hit because we took away her IPAD and told her we are at a light show and to actually look up at said lights.
She continued to yell at this level for the entire 20 minute ride for audacious and unlawful things such as a) looking at the lights b) discussing the lights, c) pointing at the lights- yes, she even screamed at baby Riley for this) then finally, d) being quiet.
Also, there was the angry backseat driving and pointing out that I was either driving too close to the car ahead of me, or by contrast- not keeping up with them.

It is at this point, I must mention that I did not keep my cool as this scenario unwound. I yelled back ( such a face-slapping thing to do with a tired toddler) and got quite mad that she was putting me through this. I was wallowing in self-pity and even pictured the scene from “Just Friends”, where Ana Farris drives over the lit-up lawn display and drags ALLL the lights with her- trailing a burning up reindeer – as she dramatically destroys this small town Christmas scene.

Folks, that was almost me. On route 66. On the 29th of December.

I have a vivid imagination, so I pictured the whole thing.

But that is not how the story ended. Thank Heavens.

I did eventually calm down, but I not before lamenting on how poorly I handled the whole scene.

At no point, did I ask for strength and patience from above. So there was my New Year’s nugget- maybe it could be good to ask for more help from Heaven?

Fun (albeit slightly depressing) fact? Over 90% of resolutions made on New Year’s Eve fail by January 12th. The 12th!! Not even two weeks later. Why is that?

By definition- a “resolution” is:

a firm decision to do or not to do something. With synonyms such as: intention, aspiration, and promise.

Folks, I have incredible intentions. I have astronomical aspirations. I have plenty of promise.

But I fail. Over and over again at things. Probably because I don’t have the support, but most definitely because I don’t ask for help.

So this year, I’m going to try something new.

I’m not going to try to knock it out of the park at just one, BIG thing.

I’m going to try to do better with a whole bunch of little things– by inviting God into those moments.

This idea was pressed more firmly in my heart while jamming out to the song, “Steal my Show” by Toby Mac.

From the chorus…

“If you wanna steal my show
I’ll sit back and watch you go
If you got something to say
Go on and take it away
Need you to steal my show
Can’t wait to watch you go oh oh oh
So take it away“

What amazing things could be accomplished each and every day if I lived this way? And not by the way the world measures… my waistline won’t shrink, my laundry pile will probably grow, and the dishes may stay in the sink a little longer- but there would be some serious heart-work going on!

So, this January- I am embarking on a quest. To not be good at just ANY thing. But to be better at the things that really count. Each and every encounter and adventure, each question and conversation- they could all be different. Dare I say, great?

*and they really could be… with God.

Who is ready to rock 2026?

A Second Chance at Joy- and Lots of Singing

December 15, 2022 by Monica Leave a Comment

On any given night in my home these days, there are multiple renditions of the beloved classic, “A Christmas Carol,” being performed. One night, it was with an army of nutcrackers. On another, with Barbies and a cameo from Olaf. Last night, a star-studded cast of stuffed animals. Why is that this year my children are all a-glow with this cherished of Christmas stories?

It could be because we were invited, so kindly by a church member, to see the live performance at The Little Theatre of Alexandria, “Tiny Tim’s Christmas Carol.” It could be the many times they have watched the Muppet or the darling Mickey Mouse version. But, if I had to really put my finger on it- I believe the credit goes to the new movie, “Spirited.” To those of you who have not had the privilege of watching it, this isn’t a spoiler alert- just an old fashioned plug for this new fangled twist on a classic.

My fascination for the story of grumpy old Scrooge came early in my life. My dear father’s favorite movie is the 1951 version with Alastair Sims.

The truly treasured time with my family was not simply in watching Scrooge upon the small Tv screen, rather it was the happiness that was written all over my father’s face throughout. To witness the unfolding of the main character’s crass, crooked ways- turned loving and loyal. What an opportunity it would be! And could it possibly be the dream that haunts us all deep down? To have a second chance at joy?

In the new adaptation, “Spirited,” the premise is taking Ryan Reynold’s stiff, stone-cold, selfish character – marked an “unredeemable”– and teach him that people can, indeed, be changed. You find yourself cheering for him the entire movie to have that true Scrooge moment- when he sees his waywardness, and with repentance and a renewed heart yells, “I’ll change, I’ll change…”

However, his response in a song (yes- there’s SO much singing to my joy- it’s a musical!) has brought upon much reflection in this house…

“So try to do a little good
Maybe give a little more
Work a little harder than you did the day before (Work a little harder)
It only takes a little good
And some doin’ what you can
Takin’ every chance to make the choice to help your fellow man

[Post-Chorus: All]
So do a little good (Hey)
Just a little, just a little, just a little (Hey, hey)

[Bridge: All]
Maybe there’s no magic wand
Maybe there’s no switch to flip (Oh)
Some days you may soar beyond
Some days you may soar beyond
And some days you start to slip

[Pre-Chorus: All]
You can give the world some good
In the daily give-and-take
With every ripple, ripple, ripple that you make”

It it at this beautiful junction that I paint the picture of watching this movie for the first time fireside with the girls and my sister over Thanksgiving and when the words “ripple” were being sung and danced to for five minutes straight- my face was…

And no, dear friends, I certainly did not invent the word. But I did, with the encouragement of my husband and the prompting of the Holy Spirit, write a children’s book about the simple act of getting up out of bed each day and trying to spread a little kindness. And Yes, it is entitled “The Ripple.” But it isn’t just a word, or just a song, not even just a story. It’s a way of life. A decision to “be changed and BE the change.“

The magical feeling we get with any version of A Christmas Carol is watching someone receive the gift of a second chance at life. At righting the wrongs. At finding the joy that can be found everyday.

But, only believing it’s simply a Christmas classic- is to set it high on a shelf the other 364 days of the year, rather than convicted by it’s true message.

Little things make a big difference.

And, I’m going to say it…

People. Are. Good.

I believe it with every fiber of my being.

It’s why I do love my sweet story so much. It’s full of hope.

And I think it’s why we love all things Christmas.

We have been invited to play a part in this beautiful world- not just on December 25th, but each and every day. To be a ripple and spread kindness, cheer, and “just a little” good throughout the darkness and shadows. What will we say to someone? How will we react? What will we do with our time? What stirs in us, motivates us, moves us? “Goodwill” is a moment by moment choice.

On one day recently running around doing errands with Quinny:

A man at the dollar store built us a box from scratch to hold our items because they wouldn’t fit in the stroller. And then carried the box out to my car. With a smile.

At the grocery store, a woman bought June a balloon because she was reaching for one.

At McDonald’s, the server came running out to grab us as we were driving away because we didn’t have the toy in the happy meal.

We, as humanity, will certainly “take one step forward and two steps back.” But as long as we are moving forward, not relying only on the strength of ourselves to keep on this journey, but continually reaching outward, upwards.

Each of us can live a life of redemption. Every single day.

It’s His gift.

Who’s you ask?

That sweet, tiny baby born in the manger.

He came to bring you the joy you’ve lost, to right your wrongs, to light up the world, to redeem us with love and hope.

Draw close to the tiny hands, that will someday be pierced for you.

Listen to His sweet, soft breath, that He will give up for you.

There is no stopping His love.

He came for You.

To stand with you on your best days and hold you on your worst.

He came to give you a second chance, a third, as many as you need until you come home.

May the 365 days of peace on earth and goodwill towards men start today, with me and you.

Merry Christmas, dear friends.

Mo’vember: a different kind of challenge- plus a BONUS CRAFT

November 18, 2022 by Monica 2 Comments

Hello friends! Just to set the record straight: this is not a post about a good old mustache-growing contest, ( sorry, hunting hubby) but about the idea of MORE.

More hugs, more calls, more hellos, more thank you’s, more “I understand,” more “It’s going to be okay,” more I’m sorry’s, more I love you’s, more hope.

Because with a heart filled with MORE- there is LESS room for the deceiver. Who brings strife, stress, confusion, conflict, chaos, with each door we leave open. And he loves the holidays. We’ll touch on that in a minute…

More can also help us get into gear- the right now– the “I should…”

There was the most beautiful maple tree on fire with color in my neighbor’s yard, and I kept telling myself to stop and take a photo of it. Day after day, I would try to take a moment and soak in awe of its beauty – but I was always busy running around. One day, on a particularly quiet morning, I went out with my coffee, phone in hand, ready to finally take that photo. Only to find that every single one of the gorgeous leaves had already dropped, prompted by the cool nights and hurried wind. I had missed it.

What else are we telling ourselves can wait, but the true moment flies right by? A phone call? A smile to a sad stranger? A letter to a long distance friend?

The devil wants us to think on it, mull it over, add it to the bottom of the list. He’ll push you to kick-start with what can only be seen first… then, if and only if you have time- to tackle the unseen… the interior work of the day… the stuff you believe no one will notice…

But truth be told- those are often times the most important things ever on a list.

I heard this quote the other day and it stopped me in my tracks. I suppose in my case- if I am perfectly, painfully honest-I could end up waking up with a very organized house, with gorgeous pillows and paintings on the wall, but, depending on the day before, with no one actually living in it.

Am I thankful for each moment for the messes my children make? The endless laundry? The sassy attitudes? The dishes left in the sink for me day after day? The conflict a busy work schedule brings between a man and wife?

What if it all went away? The good and the bad? The things I took for granted?

I know many holiday movies are made with the premise of the main character being utterly overwhelmed and making a wish they could live it all over again- because it must be better on the other side…

*in a new home- that is a blinding color of white, complete with chandeliers in every closet and self-vacuuming sofas

*with a new job- one that comes with perks like a corner office of windows and a personal secretary that brings you coffee and shows up with a notebook in hand, and is also your secret best friend

*even with a new spouse- the hunky, high school quarterback that winked at you before the homecoming dance

And at the end of every movie- there is a moment of clarity: that it wasn’t so terrible the way it used to be. The good and the bad. Because it’s what life is made of. And how we charter these waters of imperfection and the ups and downs are what makes us truly live. Our attitude of gratitude can save our souls…

What if we, before it was too late, also had a moment of clarity like the pinnacle of a Hollywood movie? With tearful conviction and heart pounding, that what surrounds us– the things that annoy us, make us frustrated, bring us to our breaking points are many times the things that bring other people on their knees for in prayer?

Will we wake up on Thanksgiving, tummy grumbling, empty and ready to be filled?

I love a good turkey and pumpkin cheesecake-

But what if we arrived on the day of Thanksgiving already FULL … of the REALLY good stuff?

Of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control?

How blessed would our time together be? How great would our GRATEFULness be?

Life changing… and leaving very little room for anything unfortunate to sneak in.

As I read these words, a new perspective is put in place for this day of gathering, thanks and giving.

I pray each of your tables are brimming with turkey and all the trimmings- including a dusting of love, a sprinkle of kindness and a dash of forgiveness. Is there really anything better we could use a little more of?

Happy, happy Thanksgiving to you, friends.

BONUS-

A Thanksgiving Craft- thankful pumpkins

Supplies
All you’ll need to make these cute pumpkins from paper is listed here:
Paper: one sheet of 8.5×11 card stock or 9×12 construction paper for the smaller pumpkin
Glue Stick
Green Pipe Cleaner
Hole Punch

To begin, cut your paper strips. For a small pumpkin (about 4 inches in diameter) you will need 4 strips that are 1 inch wide by 11 or 12 inches long. Write one (or more!) things you are grateful for on the strips.

Glue two strips together in the middle, creating a plus or “t” shape.

Then glue on each of the two other strips at a diagonal. The paper strips should be evenly spaced like spokes on a wheel.

Use a hole punch to punch a hole at the end of each paper strip. Leave about a quarter of an inch between the end of the strip and the hole.

Beginning with the top strip, thread the pipe cleaner through the holes on each end of the strip. Next, you’ll continue by bringing up the ends of the next strip and threading them onto the pipe cleaner as well. Repeat with the last two strips to make a pumpkin shape.

Twist the pipe cleaner and create another small loop to secure the strips. Curl the rest of the pipe cleaner around a pencil or your finger. Display and enjoy!

A Labor of Love

September 6, 2022 by Monica 3 Comments

Raise your hand if you’ve ever been frustrated? A tiny bit angry? A tad on the edge of blowing up? A hair away from a breakdown?

If you answered “yes”- then I’m right there with you. If you answered “no” – well, hats off to you! You must have the patience of a saint!

Labor Day can be, in theory, a day off from regular life. A holiday- from work and the demands of a stressful daily schedule. It’s on every calendar and commercial- it’s the real deal! However, I say “in theory” because in my home, this did not actually happen. I can proudly say that I’m 100% guilty of a completely unrealistic goal to have a stress-free day without the normal chaos of motherhood.

I had hoped for a blissful family day, one where there was helping with the dishes after breakfast, a picnic lunch in the backyard, followed by a final swim in the pool and a movie night!

I know, what on earth was I thinking? ( I do this a lot.)

While my expectations were obviously miles off, my husband’s were not. He had a day off from work and a to-do list to start tackling. That’s what he was excited about! Leaf blowing and a garage pick-up. And that makes perfect sense! When else was he going to do it?

But this is where the tension, frustration and slight anger on my part began…

Just because the post office doesn’t deliver mail, that hot dogs are BOGO, and that you can get couches and refrigerators for 75% off doesn’t guarantee a peaceful day in the home. It was quite the opposite! More people, more snack wrappers, more arguing over the TV remote, more “I thought YOU were watching June…” (I’ve seriously heard that 10 times this morning.) Eek.

Ladies- and gentleman…there IS no such day off for moms.

BUT- there also is no such things as a day off for Love.

And I’m just starting to realize they are intrinsically and eternally connected.

Labor- by definition-

verb

work hard; make great effort.”they labored from dawn to dusk” Similar:work (hard)toil, slave (away),grind, sweat, struggle Opposite: rest, relax, laze
have difficulty in doing something despite working hard.

Ahhhh… “to make great effort”, “struggle”, “have difficulty despite working hard”. Wow. I believe that pretty much describes my general day.

When I decided to take a moment (and step outside because I was legitimately throwing a toddler fit that I was ” laboring” and doing dishes by myself and everyone was and “resting and relaxing“) I breathed in and out and wondered what God thought about this idea of work.

So I googled.

And this is a verse that came up.

Okaaaaay, so that was humbling.

God ALSO doesn’t ever take a break. Or get a day off… or relax and rest…when it comes to us and our salvation. He WORKS. ( present tense) Hard. Each and every day- pouring His love into us- even on the days when we don’t quite deserve it. ( ahhhhheemmmm.)

He has also given each of us gifts- unique abilities- that He knows will propel us into a life full of happiness, joy, and for His good. And a Holy Spirit to call on to give that extra boost of patience, kindness and fortitude. Our “labor” can, in fact, be a gift. To our families, to our friends and neighbors, to our Heavenly Father.

Then, for kicks and giggles, I looked up the verse that followed. I thought to myself- if that verse was spot on- I bet there’s some serious wisdom in the following verses.

Mic drop.

So… I think what I’m hearing is that I should put on my big-girl pants and quit my crying.

My life, my children, my marriage, the dirty dishes…( It’s just coincidence that those two followed each other, BTW…) it can all be labored with love. It just takes a little less grumbling and a whole lot more Jesus.

I am off to open my heart, mind, and hands to the work of Him who loves me.

Now, if you’ll excuse me- I need to go find June.

Yes! But, now what?

August 15, 2022 by Monica Leave a Comment

Mary, Joshua, Noah.

Not just known as epic names, but also for their epic choices.

Mary- a teen with a dream. And her dream was shattered with a visit from an angel. Did he deliver news that rocked her world? Sure did! Did she run and hide, tell him to check his list twice, and that she must not be the girl for the job? Thankfully not. She, without so much as a fraction of an idea as to what was coming- the pain, the heart-ache, the loss, the lessons-she agreed. And the greatest love story of all time was set in motion.

Joshua- the chosen one to tag-team Moses and lead a band of newly-freed, desert-weathered wanderers to defeat the impenetrable city of Jericho. His odds? About a million to 1. He had to rally the troops, remind them how mana was still considered food- albeit more Keto than carb-y in flavor, and deliver the good news that the city walls would fall to rubble after they circled the city 6 times in 6 days and 7 times on the 7th day, concluding in a loud trumpet blast and shouting.

But Joshua’s “yes” helped execute God’s somewhat-crazy plan, and just as He said they would, “the walls came a-tumbling down.”

Now, on to Noah.

I feel his story is one overshadowed by a monumental, epic rush of furious flooding, followed by a picture-perfect rainbow hanging centered in the cerulean sky.

But there is a story of a very faithful “yes” tucked in those pages.

From what I’ve come to research, and many sources vary, our main character was a 500-year old farmer, in the desert.

Not exactly Chip Gaines.

But all God needed was a nod and a mustard seed of faith. And approximately 377 days of patience on a the salty seas.

The girls and I love talking Bible stories in our morning Bible and Breakfast. Time and time again, you see a common theme woven in these stories- God loves to take the underdog, the outlier, the smallest, the frailest, the ones you might never have known before- and unleash GREAT things within them.

The key ingredients? A willing heart and the faith to enter into something completely unknown without all the answers.

I took a moment to look up the word “yes” and found its origin to be quite interesting.

I found, “…old English gēse, gīse, probably from an unrecorded phrase meaning ‘may it be so’.”

“May it be so…” When I say those words out-loud, there does seem to be a slight hesitation, but with an ever-present attitude of agreement. Almost as if to say, “Well, ( eyes closed, heart pounding, open arms) here we go!”

I find this to be 100 % how I have always envisioned the stories in the Bible going… Moses, Joshua, Mary, Joseph, Noah, and many, many more. I picture their initial “yeses” to be full of trepidation, hesitation, worry, fear, and doubt. Yet, that isn’t the end of their story. With more faith than fear, their willing hearts help mould them into mountain climbers.

Heading into the school year in just seven short days, I am finding myself plagued with anxiety. When I homeschooled my children a few years ago, I was stricken with the same anxiety, but its reasons- dramatically different. I was about to be home. With my children. And teach them. Every day. Yet, I was only worried about doing it well– not the actual journey. For that adventure, I felt completely called.

So what is paralyzing me this year? I had a full on panic attack in my sleep last night. I dreamed of having the perfect Kindergarten classroom, but I couldn’t find my planbook. I looked and looked, even sat down to a meeting with my colleagues equipped with a sharp pencil and fresh notebook, all to be disrupted and never writing a thing down. Now, I’m no dream specialist, but I gather that I’m having trouble with the idea that I cannot predict, plan or control how the upcoming school year will go for each of my sweet babies.

They can be as prepared as can be- have all the right clothes, all the best school supplies, even with their math facts tucked into their new jean’s back pocket. But will it all be okay? Will they have enough friends? Will they get into a bit of trouble? Will they remember what 7 X 8 is? Will they help out when kindness is needed? Of that, my friends, is what we cannot be 100% sure. This is where our faithful, “may it be so”, comes in.

Our children are loved- certainly by us but also by our Heavenly Father. And when we cannot hold their hands, pick them up, whisper encouragement and positive reminders, HE can.

God isn’t asking us to let our children go this year… He’s asking us to let Him GO into their lives. Full charge, each morning, bus-rider and walker, kindergarten and senior, Geometry and lunch…no bars hold. He’s all in.

But are we?

Today I am working to breathe more, hug more, smile more, declutter the backpack closet without losing my mind, and focus on my favorite verse…

A lamp. Not stadium lights- illuminating all things near and far. Rather, His word is a hopeful, glimmer in the dark, with a warm glow, guiding me on my path. My children’s paths. One small step, then another.

So, it is with my eyes closed ( teary as they be), my heart pounding, my tired arms open, that I say- with more faith than fear- “Yes, Lord.”

And now, let the greatness begin…

Motherhood: A whole lotta laundry, a surge of soap and a courageous cacti

May 3, 2022 by Monica 3 Comments

Funny motherhood quotes. | Quotes about motherhood, Mother quotes, Mom life quotes

Funny Mom Quotes That Will Have You Cry-Laughing | Reader's Digest

Ha- did I get your attention with this blog post title? It came to me in pieces, but the final part was on a neighborhood walk… keep reading for that story…

Now, Motherhood. What job on earth compares? Not many, I dare say. I love the memes and images that come up when you google Mothers.

A few of my favorites: ( seriously get ready to spit out your coffee)

https://www.boredpanda.com/funny-mom-memes/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=organic&utm_campaign=organic

I chose the title to highlight a few things about Motherhood that have been on my heart. Two truths and some encouragement.

A whole lotta laundry: I was fighting with the laundry the other day ( the clothes were winning) and as I struggled with a sore back and aching arms to successfully move what seemed to be 30 lbs of soaking wet pants, soccer shirts, underwear and towels from the washer to the dryer, something smacked me in the face. And it wasn’t a loose baby sock. Each time I leaned in to transfer the heavy load from one machine to the other, I found myself mumbling, “I do NOT remember putting ALL this in here… jeesh, this is utterly ridiculous…and it’s HEAAAAVVVYYYY.”

Okay, am I alone on this one? Has that happened to anyone else while unloading the washer? I think I reached in 10 times and pulled out everything our family owns. How did it all get in there? I know I don’t love to sort, but I can’t imagine throwing all of that in. In fact, the washer can’t wash and the dryer can’t dry if it’s overloaded… See, Adam, I do listen when you talk :O) The “chunka chunka” noises coming from my laundry room are certainly sounds of a something extremely hardworking, but also the very sounds of something that could break at any time…

ooooooooo.

You see what I did there? Huge metaphor for Motherhood. Right. In. Front. Of. Us.

We don’t always realize the burden and weight of all we’re doing until it comes down to the wire. The machine buzzer, or in Mom terms: the child who asks us to find their favorite shirt as the bus is coming down the street, the email asking for one more of your already-packed hours, the shopping list that keeps building, the overdue library books, the gym membership that’s collecting dust, the Amazon order you were counting on thats now somehow “lost”… and I could go on and on.

It’s a lot. And it’s heavy. And it certainly didn’t start out that way, did it? We had really good intentions. But we’re only one person.

Matthew 11:28 - “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, a...

On to the next metaphor…

I was cleaning the bathroom the other day, ( another highly relatable moment in a Mother’s life) and I was refilling the beautiful soap dispenser I had recently purchased from the Magnolia section at Target. Full disclosure- sometimes I go there and sit on the couch and pretend Chip and Jo are sitting next to me and ask for my help on their next project. Then, someone throws something at me and wakes me up from that dream….

So, I slowly and carefully tipped over the extra-large refill container and started to gently squeeze and let the soap flow into the pretty one. All went well, I filled it perfectly! Then I went to put the dispensing top on and the soap erupted like a volcano on all sides. Now I had a huge mess. I may have added the perfect amount of soap, but I had forgotten to leave room for the most important part…

Lastly, some encouragement.

I went on a walk in my neighborhood yesterday and I was stopped by the sweetest older gentleman. After exchanging “Good Mornings”, he pointed up his driveway and asked me to watch the cactus sitting by his porch.

I took off my sunglasses and stared at it intently. The sweet man smiled and let out a little chuckle. He told me that he didn’t mean watch it right now, but be on the lookout for what would happen soon. He went on to tell me that this particular, amazing cacti only blooms once a year and when it does, its only for a day.

Once a Year These Cacti Will Flower for 24 Hours » TwistedSifter

This, my friends, is our challenge and blessing all in one.

Motherhood- a vocation, a load that is heavier than we thought it would be, a life where we are overflowing with our commitments to our families, our communities, our world. There are many times when no one will even see us at our best, how hard we are working behind the scenes. Most will walk right by and only see the pokes and spikes of our un-showered, un-caffeinated exterior. We will be tempted to measure ourselves by all that we’re not. But rest assured, you have a greater purpose. There is a beauty in it all, and we can bloom nonetheless. You are brightening the world- one day, one heart at a time.

Happy Mother’s Day!

I am who I am

April 14, 2022 by Monica Leave a Comment

I once found myself stuck on the floor of my oldest child’s bedroom, completely paralyzed between two squeaky floorboards. This was all after my forearm was caught behind her pillow for ten minutes as she had put the tooth fairy pillow on the wall side of her bed. My hand was completely stuck holding a teeny, tiny envelope with a teeny, tiny letter inside with teeny, tiny handwriting and an origami dollar bill. Once freed from that ridiculous position, I tried to quietly exit the room with ballet movements I had only seen in movies. When all of a sudden, as I was almost home free, I stepped and heard a creak so loud my daughter’s head popped up. I hit the deck like a spider monkey- spread out on all fours, hovering above the rug and loud floor. Sweat was dripping down my furrowed brow, as I contemplated my next move. But the light from my bedroom was illuminating my whereabouts so I couldn’t slowly crawl and with each new movement I made- hand or foot- some new creak came out. The creaky floor boards were multiplying..is that even possible? Instead of crawling, I decided to channel something I had seen on Bear Grills about being stuck in quicksand… I laid completely flat on the floor to distribute my weight and tried to shimmy like a snake out of the room. I barely made it into the hallway before the snorts of hysterical laughter hit as I wondered what had gotten me into this mess.

Sneaking around boots fence GIF - Find on GIFER

I am Me.

That’s why I was in this mess.

It’s why I’m always in a huge mess.

I truly believe I can be all things, do all things, complete every task at hand, and nothing will fail.

It’s a blessing and a curse, really- my obscure and sometimes out-of-touch positivity.

And in the case of the “stuck in spider monkey position on a child’s creaky floor at midnight,” it’s definitely a curse.

The other day my husband, bless his heart, had enough of my hi-jinx, ( this time- a late St. Patrick’s eve debacle with a Barbie pool being filled with green food dye and green glitter…) and looked at me with his sweet eyes and said, “Monica… this is ridiculous. We can’t be everything. It’s Santa, it’s the the tooth-fairy, it’s the Easter bunny, it’s the elf, it’s the wishing owl ( something I made up, of course, with a creepy fake owl on a farm fence post…) Honey- you can’t keep doing this.”

Ouch.

Wait, did it hurt because he said it? Or did it hurt because it’s true?

Probably the second one.

Why is it that us moms feel the need to BE all things? It’s not humanly possible, yet we try with all our might. It is that we feel our worth is riding on all those titles? The imaginative and the real-life?

Not only are we fairies and elves, but we’re volunteers, directors, drivers, chefs, nurses, party-planners, politicians, and every other hat we can fit on our heads.

And it’s draining. On us, and on our families.

So, if we can’t do it all, then who can?

No, dear ladies- the answer is not our husbands. Try as they may, they are incredibly prone to being “fast fixers” but they are certainly not fairy material…

GUEST COLUMN: A Review of The Tooth Fairy — Every Movie Has a Lesson

And it’s not our neighbors, friends, or co-workers either. Although asking for help is a bold, beautiful thing. See post from many years ago….

The Bare Necessities…The Simple Bare Necessities

The answer, I’m learning, is God.

He can be, and always will be ALL things.

If we let Him…

My children and I watched the movie Prince of Egypt the other day and something hit me like never before. Growing up well-versed in all the Bible stories, Moses and the burning bush was certainly not new to me. But watching the scene in that movie connected to something I had just heard in a sermon just days before.

An expert on the explanation of Exodus 3:14…

The phrase translated “I am who I am” in Hebrew is ehyeh asher ehyeh. The word ehyeh is the first person common singular of the verb to be. It would be used in any number of normal situations: “I am watching the sheep,” “I am walking on the road,” or “I am his father.” However, when used as a stand-alone description, I AM is the ultimate statement of self-sufficiency, self-existence, and immediate presence. God’s existence is not contingent upon anyone else. His plans are not contingent upon any circumstances. He promises that He will be what He will be; that is, He will be the eternally constant God. He stands, ever-present and unchangeable, completely sufficient in Himself to do what He wills to do and to accomplish what He wills to accomplish.

https://www.gotquestions.org/I-AM-WHO-I-AM-Exodus-3-14.html

When God told Moses, “I am…” he was stating his complete power and perfection. Last time I checked, I could not be summed up with that same statement. When I begin with, “I am…” I usually follow it with “mother”, “wife”, “friend”, “sister”, “diaper changer”, “temperature-taker”, “dog poop picker-upper” and these days-and I quote “mean mom who won’t give an 11 year-old an I-phone 13.”

By stark contrast, in a beautiful sermon I heard at the funeral of a dear friend’s mother, the pastor went on to say that what follows when God says “I am,” is everything. “Father”, “friend”, “comforter”, “leader”, “guider”, “provider”, “the Way”, “the Truth”, and “the Life.”

And even though I go through my days willing my plans and relying on my own strength, (all to the tune of, “I want it that way…” by The Backstreet Boys playing in my head), I know that I have a choice, every single day.

There will always be disappointments, letdowns, changes, losses… battles we can’t win with our #tweens.

There will always be more to sign up for, places to be, things to achieve, titles to hold.

But, again- the question is- Where is my worth?

How can I answer, “Who am I?” without all the madness above?

I’ll leave you with this short scene from one of favorite recent movies.

I highly recommend viewing the entire movie, especially as a family.

The next time you have a chance to answer, “Who am I?” – resist temptations to define yourself through your achievements, titles, accolades, or prove yourself with your last post-able picture. And ignore the world telling you that you are only as good as your imperfect parenting, worst flaw, or classic short-comings compared to unreal expectations.

Slowly, take off each of those hats, one by one, and then take a moment of quiet.

When you find yourself wondering what is left when all else is gone, listen hard to hear His gentle, comforting, life-saving words. The only words that truly matter.

He is whispering, “I am.”

Easy as 1, 2, 3

January 30, 2020 by Monica 2 Comments

My middle child, Mattie, received a magic kit for Christmas. It’s awesome. It has all these little trinkets that create wonder and inquisition for her, and in theory- her audience. I just love watching her perform- she’s a real drama queen- so no show is without its large scale production.

At one point during the first of such shows, I could clearly tell she was struggling- as in the ball was not exactly disappearing. To her credit- she just kept trying and trying, all while wearing her best smile and convincing me something amazing was about to happen.

Well, it didn’t.

I then decided to ask her, “Mattie, did you read the directions that came with the kit?” ( I’m a huge direction person- I’d like to think it goes hand in hand with my obviously HUGE sense of humility that I really don’t know much…)

She quickly responded with a very confident, “No.”

Okaaaaaay.

There was about another 5 more minutes that she struggled – and throughout that time, I got to see the ins and outs of the actual trick. So, when it came time for the BIG reveal- I smiled back at her and allowed myself to fall fully into her theatrical and magical debut. I was marveling at how she, too, was falling fully into her acting, believing 100% that she had unleashed powers beyond imagination.

I love children.

They really do encompass an innocence when it comes to believing. And I was re-reminded of this while watching Mattie and her simple yet constant “one, two, threeee!!!!!” Nothing like a good ol’ fashioned magic trick to showcase how easy it used to be and should be to “believe without seeing.”

Could it actually be that in my life, I am making things a lot harder than they should be? Harder than they were intended to be?

I pause here for a resounding, “YES!!!” from anyone who knows me.

Let’s quickly and very on the surface, evaluate how how I start a typical day over here in crazy town.

I wake up, well, do you actually get to say ” wake up” if you never really feel asleep?

For arguments sake, I’ll say I wake up-but we all know I haven’t slept since the 80’s.

No really, this is me at 7 am.

On a good day.

I never have been, nor will ever be, that mom who looks amazing at drop off. I wish I could say I rock a baseball cap and huge sunglasses well, like a celebrity when they go “au-natural” and are trying to be fashionably incognito -but even then- I’m pretty sure the kid’s school thinks there’s a homeless guy staying with us half the time.

But back to my lack of rest.

I have only recently made a huge mind-blowing connection with the fact that I can’t fall asleep or stay asleep with being a control freak. It may sound obvious to you- but I had always associated my insomnia with my creative juices flowing when it was finally quiet.

But, through the second go around of my weekly bible study’s book- my mind and heart were opened to what is truly missing in my life. And it’s not just a good set of ZZZ’s.

Faith.

Trust.

Peace.

Yup- turns out a lack in those babies is a surefire way to the no-snore-zone.

For me.

Why?

Oh, my friends… I’m so glad you asked….

It might be as easy as 1, 2, 3.

One- It’s DONE!

This, my friends, is referring directly to my inability to let go of the past. I hash out the parts of my day- things I’ve done and said- NOT done and NOT said- ugh, I’m actually exhausted just typing that out. But it’s true. 100%. I feel like I’m watching the unedited movie version of my past from the nosebleed cheap seats, and throwing popcorn every time something pops up that makes me embarrassed, confused or want to throw up.

If I would simply have more PEACE in what my day has brought: done and undone- said and unsaid- my head could possibly hit the pillow with a deeper sense of ” it is Good.” Not PERFECT, but Good. As in, how it should be.

And the reality is- there’s not a whole lot that can be changed or solved at 1 am, anyway.

On to Number Two- Go YOU!

I have been attempting to be more present in my life- on a daily basis. With technology and my ever growing addiction to signing up for things and staying busy-it makes it hard to Just Be. And Be HERE. And Be Here NOW.

The phrase Go YOU is also referring to being a cheerleader in people’s lives. My closest people. I want to listen, support, aid, guide, teach. But I can’t do it all. All the time. I need to put down the pen and clipboard a little more, and revisit my commitments. I want to be the best I can be. At those things. NOW.

And some times the best thing you can do is just Show Up.

Image result for martin luther king jr if i cannot do great things"

On to Number Three- You’re FREE!

In case you haven’t guessed it- this one relates to the future.

In hindsight and much agonizing reflection, I have come to terms with the fact that THIS part is what I struggle with the most. I DESPERATELY want to know what’s coming. I want to be prepared. I want to tweak it and shape it and form it into, well, what I want. I’d prefer to guarantee fewer worries. Fewer failures. For my husband. For my kids. For my friends. For me…

Bare with me as I make a connnection to my age old FAVORITE movie series as a child- Back to the Future.

Now, if you’re not going to take MY word for it- that having all the answers and seeing things written on newspapers 10 years ahead does NOT, in fact, bring peace, happiness and joy- than take it from Doc Brown and Marty McFly.

They’re time traveling experts.

Image result for back to the future gif"

I’m convinced, thanks to these fine gentlemen who dared to dream and create the fluxcapacitor- that if I HAD all the answers, HAD all the things I hoped for, KNEW why and when things were happening… there would not be an increase in peace and joy in my life. Rather it could leave me with MORE questions, MORE wonders, and striving for MORE control.

( reminder- NOTHING good came from that Sports Almanac!!!!)

There simply needs to be MORE Trust.

**************

On the days when I’m finding it especially hard to understand, or Believe without necessarily seeing the writing on the wall… but I really want to…I feel like the little boy in the movie, The Polar Express.

Standing in the North Pole, in the presence of Santa Clause, but unable to actually see his face. Sweet bells are ringing all around, and yet he is also deaf to their harmony. He spies a lost bell, fallen by his bedslipper, picks it up and rings it. Only to hear nothing.

He sees the others rejoicing, singing, experiencing -sure of it all.

He wants to trust that its there.

Mustering up all his credence, he firmly closes his eyes and mutters slowly, “okay…okay…” Followed by, “I believe…I believe…I…BELIEVE.”

He shakes the bell again, assuredly releasing its sweet victorious sound.

JOY.

And as the book states in its beautiful last line, “as it does for all who truly believe.”

*****************

When I hand up my future,

I am Free.

Free from fear.

Free from perfection.

Free from knowing it all.

Free from holding it all.

Free to experience the sights and sounds of peace and joy.

One step at a time.

One day at a time.

Image result for thy word is a lamp pintrest"

And now I’m Free to rest.

So, my sweet friends- could it, should it, be that easy?

Life isn’t exactly like a child’s beginner magic set.

But, as I tuck my children in to bed at night- and watch them calm and cozy, not a worry in the world; happy with the day behind them and excited for what’s up ahead next… is there any harm in having a little more faith and believing like a child?

Confidence- in my past. (1)

Assurance -in my future. (3)

Seems like the only thing left to do is to go live my life.

And live it well! (2)

Let’s do this :O)

**************************

God Help Me

by Plumb

There is a wrestling in my heart and my mind
A disturbance and a tension I cannot seem to drive
And if I’m honest, there’s quite a bit of fear
To sit here in this silence and really hear You

What will you ask of me?
Will I listen to your voice when you speak?

Help me to move
Help me to see
Help me to do whatever you would ask of me
Help me to go
God help me to stayI’m feeling so alone here
And I know that You’re faithful but I can barely breathe
God help me

Sometimes things, they are black and white
Sometimes they are not and it leaves us torn inside
And in the middle we are left to wonder
Who we are, what You want and where we’re going
Oh such a mystery
I don’t always understand
But I believe

Help me to move
Help me to see
Help me to do whatever you would ask of me
Help me to go
God help me to stay
I’m feeling so alone here
And I know that You’re faithful but I can barely breathe
God help me

I don’t know the future
It’s one day at a time
But I know I’ll be okay with Your hand holding mine
So take all my resistance
Oh God I need Your grace
One step and then the other show me the way
Show me the way

Help me to move
Help me to see
Help me to do whatever you would ask of me
Help me to go
God help me to stay
I’m feeling so alone here
And I know that You’re faithful but I can barely breathe
Oh God I can barely breathe
Oh I can barely breathe
God help me

Source: LyricFindSongwriters: Tiffany Arbuckle Lee / Christa Wells / Luke SheetsGod Help Me lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Mike Curb Music

When God Sends a Sleigh

December 6, 2019 by Monica 4 Comments

Years ago, when I lived in Maryland, in a house full of fabulously fun teachers, I often walked to the nearby mall and grocery stores whenever I needed anything. It was great exercise and I loved being outside. However, time and time again, I would get lost in the land of shopping- grabbing Costco-sized items and making myself proud with all the steals and deals. It was at the moment when I pushed my cart outside that I realized my only transportation getting me home was my pair of Uggs.

Now, you may be saying to yourself, there’s absolutely NO WAY I did this more than once.

Uhmm. Sorry to lay it to you straight, but I’m just that out of it sometimes.

Image result for oops i did it again gif

So, back to my story.

I mustered up the hand strength, and grabbed my 8 bags of groceries and started off through the woods. I sometimes had to stop a time or two, but mostly I decided that if I kept going, ignoring my blue fingers and screaming shoulders, I could make it. I always did make it home. And I prided myself on never getting caught struggling in the streets. Until the one day I got caught.

I had been ignoring Adam’s texts dinging in my pocket – OBVIOUSLY I had no way of reaching my phone. And he knew I was out shopping. Being the smart lad that he is, he had spun by the house, seen my car and then FIGURED I’d try something less than intelligent like walking home with 20 lbs of groceries.

Can you see why we are married?

I’ll never forget the the snicker I heard coming from his car window as he slyly pulled up behind me. I swear he had been trailing me for half a mile and just let me suffer.

But here’s the kicker. As relieved as I was to see him, I didn’t let him help me.

I gave him some excuse about how my fingers would fall off if he tried to un- bag them with his manly ways, and I convinced him that I could make it the 2 blocks home. And he reluctantly agreed. But not without trailing me… with more snickers. And some Country music.

And then we got to the house, and I was so mad at myself with the worst pins and needles in my hands EVER, and I think I remember yelling at Adam for something about never being there for me.

I feel I should give you the time now to give me some kind of virtual slap.

I needed it.

I was so bent on being independent and relying on my own strength that it blinded my judgement. And didn’t allow the help to actually help.

It amazes me sometimes that I could be that dense.

So very, very long ago.

Oh wait. I’m still doing it.

I am still putting 20 lbs of groceries in my hands, not literally any more- THANK HEAVENS I’VE LEARNED ONE THING- but figuratively.

I still think I will be given some kind of magazine worthy award if my house is super clean, or my laundry is all caught up, if I chaperone a field trip, or buy all my kid’s favorite foods for lunch and dinner.

But the reality is, I’m not not being given any earthly award, or bonus points for those things. And the problems begin if I put all my hope, faith and joy IN those things.

Each of them can be taken away at a moments notice.

The house gets trashed in 10 minutes after the kids get home from school.

The laundry quickly doubles and overflows.

I can’t help out a school anymore for one reason or another.

And suddenly, the girls have changed their minds on what flavor mac n cheese they like- so now I have 25 boxes they won’t touch.

The bags are breaking.

I can’t hold them anymore.

The hope, faith and joy are gone.

But it isn’t meant to be that way.

I heard in a Sunday sermon that we are ” hardwired for hope.” I like that saying. We as a people, are certainly hopeful. Especially this time of year. But what are we hoping in? Where is our faith?

Christmas “miracles”?

The fact that my kids will behave and cherish the spirit of giving and be changed by the Season?

That my house will emulate what I see on Instagram with bloggers that have perfectly flocked trees in every room?

That traditions will stay the same… and that even though my kids are growing up, they will still want to make me happy by build gingerbread houses, decorate cookies and singing Jingle Bells in the back seat on the way to school?

Or that the never ending list of to-do’s comes to a halt and my husband and I can enjoy a quiet evening together by the tree?

The Little Somethings can be great, too.

They can turn into Big Somethings.

Things don’t always have to be what we Hope for and expect.

Only one thing can be truly worthy of our Christmas HOPE.

I’ll leave you with a story I heard a character tell recently in a Hallmark Christmas movie… it is a spin-off of “The Drowning Man” story you may have heard at church.

***************************************

There once was a man caught in a snowstorm. He hunkered down in his house and prayed that God would save him.

There was a knock at the door, and it was a stranger driving a sleigh. The stranger told him to get in.

But the man replied, “I’m waiting for my God to save me, I have Faith.”

So the stranger left.

The snowstorm continued.

There was another knock at the door.

It was another stranger driving a sleigh. The stranger told the man to get in.

But the man replied again, ” I’m waiting for my God to save me, I have Faith.”

So the stranger left.

As the snowstorm worsened, there was a pounding at the door.

It was a stranger driving a sleigh. The stranger asked the man get in.

But the man replied a third time. ” I am waiting for my God to save me, I have Faith.”

Well folks, the man died in the snowstorm.

And when he reached Heaven, he quickly asked God why he didn’t save him.

God calmly replied, “I sent you three sleighs…what else did you need?’

***********************

Did God send Adam to scoop me and my broken fingers up 15 years ago?

Possibly. And probably.

I do wish I could have a do-over for how I reacted. But I can’t.

Does He continue to send “sleighs” each day, without me even noticing?

I’m 100% sure of it.

My only suggestion: when God sends you and me a sleigh, or two… Maybe we might want to push aside our pride, foolishness and imagination on what we think we’re waiting for… and take a step in.

After all, it’s the only sleigh that can truly and HOPE-FULL-y carry it all.

Merry, Merry Christmas to you all.

From my heart to yours.

Turbulence

October 8, 2019 by Monica 4 Comments

I recently had the privilege of flying out to see my sister while she was vacationing in Maine. I was pumped about the trip- 3 days of bonding time without the kiddies, in such a scenic spot. I even brought my Thanksgiving turkey pants so I could stuff myself with lobster.

But I don’t love to fly. Never have.

In order to combat that fear, I surround myself with as many creature comforts as I can to take my mind of this idea of possibly crashing. No, seriously, this is how I think.

So, I wore my comfiest clothes, so I wouldn’t be cold on the plane, I packed really good snacks from home – so I wouldn’t break the bank at the little newsstand store ( I am such a mom,) BUT I always splurge on an extra large warm fru-fru coffee drink. ( which is not always the best idea to have that much caffeine..on a plane. Just remember that for later) But I think I look very put-together and cool when I’m carrying a coffee. Like it says “see, I am so put-together, that I had time to grab a coffee- not just one from my house in a to-go- mug… but from a real, live coffee shop…so there.”

I brought a book to entertain myself; I am ready to independently read, but if someone happens to strike up a conversation with me- I have a bunch of one liners and interesting facts in my back pocket ready to go.

I do consider myself to be the ultimate airplane seat buddy.

Well, fast forward to actually being on the plane:

We are all buckled in, I am paying incredible attention to the instructions in the pamphlet in the seat back in front of me as well as by the 100 year old stewardess. ( I even give a quick smirk to my seat buddy- who is otherwise immersed in his phone during such important information – like I am going to save his life in supposed emergencies b/c I am paying such excellent attention to where the exits are…)

All my creature comforts are put away- I am a super rule follower- and am super distracted by the fact that across the isle a man in a suit has not ceased tinkering on his laptop and I am convinced that his Wi-Fi is going to interrupt the pilot’s signals from the main tower and we are going to crash . Because of him.

Alas, I try not to judge or hyperventilate as I tighten my grip on the soft outer layer of my outfit, currently being used as an adult blankie.

The pilot starts speaking lots of altitude facts, and I am attempting to find comfort in his calm and steady voice. It’s a nice voice, He probably leads a Yoga class when he’s not flying. He seems like he knows what he’s doing. That’s good.

5 minutes into the flight:

Okay. we are taking off- oh gosh I really don’t like this…

I wish I had a window seat, so I could see…

Wait, maybe I don’t want to see.

No, I like knowing where I am.

No surprises.

Ah, my stomach feels weird.

It’s probably better that I look straight ahead.

No window.

Gosh, Adam is right- I am indecisive.

We are up in the air now.

Phew. We’re still alive.

10 minutes into the flight:

We are “cruising” now- although the choice of aviation vocabulary has me puzzled- I sure don’t feel like I’m relaxing in a convertible, seaside, with the salty wind blowing in my hair.

I feel like we are 30, 000 feet up in the sky and might plummet any minute now. I am anything but relaxed. In fact, my heart is beginning to race… nerves… oh- and that extra large coffee…

15 minutes into the flight:

The pilot has given permission to take out toys and such- so I grab my book. Hands are shaking a bit. Jeepers what did they put in that Dunkin’ Latte?

It’s a book on parenting, so I’m pretty sure my seat buddy is going to think I’m a great parent just sprucing up my already great parenting skills.

25 minutes into the flight:

I’m super engrossed in my parenting book- the funny thing is… wait for it… it turns out I’m not such a great parent…

So, as I am head deep in my book- studying like I have an exam coming up, foot steadily tapping up and down, my death grip begins to soften.

And just as I begin to sit back a bit and I uncurl my sweaty fingers from the spine and covers of the book, we hit a pocket of air and the plane bumps.

Now, out of the corner of my eye, as if dislodged from the slight turburlence, I see the little homemade rainbow-colored bookmark that Quinn drew for me- starting to sliiiiip in slow motion from the pages of the book.

******Now, in order for you to understand the insane irony of this upcoming situation, you must know something about me. ******

I have terrible reflexes, and they have honestly only gotten worse over the years. For instance, do you remember the card game, “Slap Jack?” When everyone wold hit the table every time a Jack showed up in the deck? Well, imagine Monica slapping the table 30 seconds after the Jack was spotted. Got the visual?

So, back to the plane ride.

As the Quinn-draw-rainbow bookmark is slooooooly sliiiiiping out of the pages of my book- the extra large coffee has hit me 100% and I ninja-like LUNGE after the falling memento. I managed to grab it before it fell to the floor, but now awkwardly find my hand in my seat buddy’s lap.

Yup.

That happened.

He quickly glared at me. How dare, he right? Just kidding.

I returned my hand to its proper place on my side, turned the darkest shade of crimson and mumbled an apology. I pray he heard me. I then quickly threw my head back into my parenting book.

Feeling pretty terrible as a parent and now as a human being – I remember that I chose the wrong deodorant this morning. I picked the one that smells good but not the one that works.

Ugh…how much longer is this flight…

30 minutes into plane ride:

The beverage/ snack service is beginning,

It has now dawned on me that I need to go to the bathroom.

Of course.

Darn coffee.

I’ll wait. I can wait. I’m good at waiting….I have three kids.

Why AM I always waiting?

My kids should be better at listening…

Well maybe it’s that I should be better at parenting…

It’s probably a bit of both…

Kinda depends on the day…

…. Oh, right- that’s why I’m reading this book…

because there’s a crazy person in my head.

Who has to go to the bathroom.

I feel sorry for my husband.

40 Minutes into the flight:

The snack/beverage cart has left and I now have the world’s smallest bag of pretzels and some Ginger Ale in a plastic shot glass.

Why did I get a drink you ask?

Because I’m a giant pushover and have trouble saying “no” to people. Even complete strangers.

I totally practiced saying “No thank you…” while I saw the cart coming closer and closer. But when the 100 year old stewardess asked me if I wanted anything to drink , my hands were clammy and I blurted out, “SURE!” as if we’d be best friends now that I said yes.

I have serious issues.

45 Minutes into the flight:

I’m back reading my parenting book to distract me when I start to get hungry and my home snacks are not cutting it. Now I think I know how my kids feel…

I spot my miscroscopic bag of pretzels under my magazine on the tray table.

Yum. I do love a pretzel.

Wait, how the heck to you open this thing?

Oh, here’s the little cut tab…

*****Spoiler alert: its about to get awkward again….******

Just as I break into the minuscule pretzel bag ( with a caffeinated surge ) I realize- a little too late-that I am opening it from the bottom.

Hundreds of tiny salt pieces plus broken pretzels fly all over the place, including all over my seat buddy.

How on earth did they fit all of that in a tiny little bag?

I was contemplating this when I noticed my seat buddy had actually turned to me this time and was glaring. Not a side glare. A full on scowl.

I am going to throw up.

I don’t like it when people are mad at me.

I KNOW I said sorry this time, quite loudly and repeatedly, but for some reason it didn’t seem to be helping.

It probably did not help that my attempt to clean up my tray table, which was an aggressive and furious sweeping motion, is simply sending more salt and broken pretzels his way, littering his tray table and lap.

Dear Heavens, help me.

*************************************************

Now, I share this ridiculous story with you so that do ( hopefully) laugh a little.

But also to share that no matter how you “prep” for your day or plan an experience- there will more than likely be some bumps– ups and downs. A bit of “turbulence” you didn’t see coming.

And you may even explode and fall to pieces just like my misconstrued bag of pretzels.

But please try to remember one thing: there’s always tomorrow.

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