My Mother’s Day Six Pack (of donut holes)

I think if a person writes  a long post about faith on the upswing, it’s only fair to write a post about faith on the downswing. So.

Life stays messy, and part of faith is acknowledging the mess and then taking some deep breaths and moving forward in the decision to remain content instead of living in the feeling of discontent. I will now take this opportunity to step away from the “we” and reclaim the “I”, since J has no idea what I’m about to write and may or may not endorse these feelings as his own. Probably not, because it involves sitting in the Lowe’s parking lot on the day after Mother’s Day with a six pack of Dunkin Donut holes (I said holes, babe! Not entire donuts!) and a kid-size cup of caffeinated coffee. In moments of high stress, I like to place as few demands on myself as possible, which means eating whatever I want and watching back-to-back DVR episodes of Revenge or something. Let’s get crazy.

The day after Mother’s Day, I continued to not be knocked up despite our prayers and hopes, and also that tiny little piece of us that clings to the could instead of the is. Denial or Optimism? Who knows. Either way, it should not be shocking, but somehow each time it still is. And each time this happens, I find myself telling myself: Fine. You don’t care about me? I don’t care about you. Especially you, adrenals, which I have been so diligently protecting since last fall. About every 4 weeks, I feed them donuts and caffeine. And also, Tangeray and tonic and some of those tiny cookies from Whole Foods by the handful.  Then I feel very sorry and tell myself I didn’t mean it. I buy myself annuals from Lowes and reschedule an appointment or two to get my shiz together, plant some flowers, water the yard, drink my kid-size caffeinated coffee, do some abdominal breathing, and take some walks. I confess everything to J that very night during the middle of some sentence about how I feel so fat, and he doesn’t judge. He says: Yeah. Sometimes it’s okay to do those things. I browse through some Prayers for a Privileged People to recalibrate my perspective (I am privileged. You are privileged.) and some tequila Anne Lamott to take the edge off. Then, eventually, I drag myself back to the salad train and resume normal life.

This process ranges anywhere from 3 hours to 3 days.

Sometimes a Dill Weed incident happens. You know things are bad when someone in the house opens the pantry door, and the Dill Weed falls out and shatters, and that person makes a joke about Dill Weed and laughs, and then you explode, like, 8 minutes later to the Dill Weed person, because your computer died and you blame it on the Dill Weed spill. Displacement much? In our house, we now call each other Dill Weed. We also apologize to guests for our lack of screens on their windows and make references to buying children instead of screens. We would very much like screens, but we have to purchase a child first.

Operating Instructions: First year of Marriage #18: If you can make each other laugh, you’re already through it.

The point to all this is that: a) coffee and donut moments exist even when you know that you know that you know God is good. It’s okay. Just try not to get stuck there; and b) God sometimes moonlights as a DJ. When I was sitting in the car at Lowe’s that Monday morning with my mini-coffee and my 6 holes, nurturing the disappointment in a way I can only do all by myself, because all by myself is the only place I’m comfortable grieving something that never was, God sent another song to me on the radio. I’ve heard this song a thousand million times, but it especially mattered that morning, and filled up all those tiny holes inside the coffee and Dunkin were pouring through.

 

I’m not real sure how to wrap this up except to say that sometimes donut holes in parking lots carry me to the next place God will meet me, because He always does show up.

Fun with BGC kids

I really am trying to get back into the habit of posting consistently. By trying, I mean definitely thinking it in my head and sometimes making post-its. For now, you’ll just have to settle for some summer highlights with the BGC kids.

The first is a video I caught of the McCormick kids singing in the van. Note, especially the enthusiastic singer in the lower right corner, and the girl who just ignores us in the lower left corner.

Next is a series of pictures from the penny pitch carwash we did with WOWO- thats, AMradio, if you didn’t know. Ronnica and I were the only ones who showed up at 7am:Photobucket

Here is how we spent most of the morning.
So… are there supposed to be cars to wash or something? Anybody want to donate to the boys and girls club? Anyone?

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Our local celebrity

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By 9am, we made $170 and 2 boxes of donuts.

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The next is a series of Ronnica dancing for the carwash guys in the name of the BGC

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And me attempting the same moves, not permitted to be in any way associated with BGC or Ronnica, who had a crush on Andy, the carwash guy

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The next two are Girls Weekend Out with Janelle…

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And my personal favorite: BLAZES OF GLORY- win or die trying.

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I love these guys. I love this place. It will be a sad day for me in three weeks, the closing to a decade-long chapter here. Boys and Girls clubs, you’re my heart.

Got Carrots?

Imagine yourself driving along—its sleeting and snowy out—you pull up to a stop light, turn to your left and see a convertible full of rabbits. You try to look away, but they just keep honking and yelling things like, “Happy Easter!” and “Got Carrots?” and “What’s up doc?”

Can you picture it? Here, let me help.
The one yelling “Got Carrots?” was me— the cute one in the back.

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The other bunnies were Denise (founder of CFI) and Becky (our Belize Team 14 leader), both long-time friends of the family, and Lisa’s daughter, MacKenzie, also a good friend of the family who I happen to be staying with for the weekend.

Denise has been dressing up in rabbit suits and driving around the city in a rented convertible, hand-delivering Easter treats to friends, family and strangers for 20 years. I’m not sure how I got roped into it this year.

I mean—I’m not sure how I got to be blessed with this fantastic, unique Easter experience.

Step One: Bunny Prep

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Umm. Does this outfit make my tail look fat?

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Step Two: Car Prep

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Step Three: Dunkin Donuts

(It’s important to start the day off right.)

(Oh, and its even MORE important to NOT spill your entire cup of coffee down your right bunny leg and into the tub of eggs. I’m sure you guys already knew that.)

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Step Four: The Open Road

We drove out of Dunkin Donuts armed with signs, candy, eggs, toys, stuffed animals and donut holes, and we made it as far as 10th & Emerson before we were followed into the Dairy Queen parking lot for a picture with some lady’s son.

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We made a few house calls to friends (Ashley & Pulfers: hay-ay!)

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At about noon (sorry, I have to mention it), Denise looked at a girl in shorts and said, in all seriousness—That girl is wearing shorts and a T-shirt in winter. Is she crazy?

We had to remind her that she was the one dressed like a bunny in a convertible with the top down in the snow, and also she was honking and yelling. We had a nice laugh.

Kenzie and I (frozen in the back seat) “hopped” out just in time for the afternoon matinee of College Road Trip—I think Raven and I could be good friends, just like I think Jennifer Garner and me and Sarah Jessica Parker and me, oh, and Sandra Bullock and me could be—and then we spent the rest of the afternoon with Sprink-a-docious and BabyGap at the Fashion Mall.

Here are my most recent purchases for Baby Lily.
(Note: I am the coolest aunt ever)

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Other weekend happenings of note. We made Easter cookies. They were cookie-licious.

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I also dragged Sprinky and Kenzie to the Black & White store, tried on the dresses and settled on the black one for my dad’s wedding. I had a private goodbye with the white one and promised to come back for it when I was older, financially secure, and could assure it a good life. Boo.

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Anyway, Happy Easter!