Wednesday, July 27, 2016

in a tent

I'm camping. 
In 100 degree temps. 
In a tent. 
In the dirt.
With my two kids.
Without my husband.
And the bathroom feels like it is 5 miles away.

And I am trying to enjoy every minute of it.
Except the dirt.
And the heat.
And missing my guy.

It's not really all that bad. 
My family is just up the hill.
They are why we are here!
Because my family is fun.
Every single one of them.

And we eat really great food!
Except that I'm trying to be very conscientious about what is going in my face.
Which is hard.
Because we're camping.
And the snacks multiple before my very eyes.

Costco's miniature cinnamon rolls
It's It ice cream sandwiches
Gummy worms
14 flavors of Pringles
Sunflower seeds (currently eating ranch, dill pickle soon to follow)
Tortilla chips with lime
Flat bread dipped in spinach dip
Dove chocolates
Trader Joe's flax seed chips
Slim Jim beef jerky sticks
Cashews ("Please don't feed the bats cashews, they cost too much!" - yes, this was said this evening)
Pirate's Booty
Fruit snacks
And we have tapped into maybe 15% of our snack options...

So, yeah, good things (because I LOVE snacks!)

But it's hot and dirty and my kids are slobs which is evident by the half of the tent that has their dirty clothes strewn all across it despite the fact that there is a pop-up hamper in the middle of the tent. I am not in my element. I don't like living out of an ice chest for 6 days. I don't like having my clothes stick to me. I don't like climbing hills to go the bathroom. And I'm not a fan of public showers...ew. I miss my trailer: *sobbing!!* (For those of you who love tent camping: yay for you!! I do not love it and I am not ashamed of that.)

But I am doing this for two very good reasons. One of them is currently sleeping on my left and the other is sleeping on my right. My 2 kids are having a blast! They could care less about the dirt and the heat. They are running all over tarnation with their cousins (although they are missing the ones who couldn't make it this year) and they are eating all the junk and they are playing games with their aunties and uncles and grandma. 

I will put up with dirt and heat and tent camping if it means that my kids will have awesome memories of this trip with me and will create great memories with their cousins, aunties, uncles, and grandma. Because those things you can't buy. 
But those things you can give. 

Happy Camper,
KC

Sunday, July 24, 2016

words 20 years later

I attended my 20th class reunion a couple of weeks ago (I know you're all wondering how I can be old enough to be attending a 20 year reunion, but it's because I graduated from high school when I was 10 years old...that sounds plausible, right?!) I found it interesting listening to stories and memories from my classmates and how negative many of those memories were...

It's amazing the baggage that we can carry for so many years. We must be so influential during our high school years because those words that were said to us and the deeds done - they stick! They shape us and haunt us for years to come. 

People, it's been 20 years and there are still scars being carried by myself and others who graduated with me. And the frightening thing for me is that, although I wasn't intentionally mean or vindictive as a high schooler, I probably said or did things that hurt others. 

I'm not the same person I was in high school, time and life have a funny way of changing a gal, but I still carry a small suitcase of hurts from that period of my life, and I know I'm not the only one who has that little suitcase packed, despite my maturity (because you'd think I could grow up and get over it, right?!). It's hard to let go. 

Words.

I'm in my mid-30's (I'm going to stay in my mid-30's until I'm 45...) and I am still learning the weightiness of my words. I try to make sure I hear my words through someone else's ears. And I try to be clear and concise in my wording. (Please take note of the word "try" because I fail a whole lot despite my efforts!) 

So here's my thought for today: Speaking should always require thinking first. 

No matter how old you are, no matter who you are talking to, always try to use tact. Because you never know what scars you might be creating for someone else. 



KC



Tuesday, July 5, 2016

holding me up

Today I held my 7-year-old son in my lap with his long arms tucked into my side and his gangly legs spilling over my lap while he sobbed. It was the sob of frustration and heartbreak that only a 7-year-old boy would cry about: a video game.

Or so I thought. 

When he had calmed down, he revealed his tenderheartedness. He was frustrated with himself because he had wasted his money on an app that ended up being one of those games where you have to keep purchasing the next episode in order to continue playing it. And as I tried to console him, I asked if maybe he'd like to do something with me, like play a card game and he said, "no," and started sobbing harder. He told me later that he was crying so hard because he had said no to me and thought he had hurt my feelings and felt so bad about it! 

Heart melted.

But I share all that, not because it's important to the story or to help make my point. I shared it because it was just too sweet not to.

And to my point: as he sat in my lap, it crossed my mind that this child would always be my child, even when he becomes an adult. I realized that someday I might hold him through a devastating loss or immense disappointment or dibilitating disease. That's heavy to think about. And I'm not sure I'm built to handle it. I'm certain I'm not. The thought of dealing with such deep loss for either of my children is beyond me.

But the worry doesn't consume me like it has the potential to do. Because looking back through the variety of things I've been through, I've always come through stronger on the other side. Not because I'm amazing or awesome or even close to great.

Only because I've never had to deal with the heavy on my own. Whatever I have needed, God has provided. 
When I couldn't understand the things that plagued me, He gave me perspective. 
When I couldn't handle the sadness, he gave me comfort and peace. 
When I've been at my wit's end, He's given me gentle reminders. 
When I didn't want to get out of bed, He gave me reasons.
He has always provided. Sometimes a lot, sometimes just enough.

So when I see glimpses of what the future might hold as I hang on to my children's hearts, and it looks scary, I just look at the past and know that I can handle that future, because I'm not doing it by myself. He's holding me up the entire way.

KC