What the current contents in my purse say about me...

I was in middle school when I carried my first purse. It was a neutral color with a long shoulder strap and not very big. I didn't carry much: a brush, mirror, coins because I rarely had any cash, Bubblicious Bubble gum (think 80's and blowing big bubbles) and a picture or two.

Ya know that joke where the older you get the bigger your purse gets? Well, in my case, it is more like the older I get the more stuff I haul around in my same-sized, medium purse! I just can't bring myself to buy a bigger purse. And so the purpose of my bag is no longer about feeling grown up or a fashion statement or to hold my driver's license and ya know, tampons. Yes, I used the "T" word.

The contents in my purse as I write this?...

The usual

A wallet, brush with hair-ties, keys, sunglasses, cell phone, a mirror, women stuff, receipts, and lip gloss.

The necessities when I launched my professional career

A pocket calendar, paper pad, pens, breath mints, Tylenol, hand sanitizer, oil blotting paper, lotion coupons/gift cards/ or point cards.

Surprise necessities...around 2007 

1. An Epi-pen for when a wasp or bee decides to sting me.

2. Powdered sunscreen or some organic kinds: My skin is allergic to something in most sunscreens available.

The I wouldn't have ever had this in my purse before kids contents:

     1. Crayons/Activity books-need I say more?

     2. Hand wipes (for sticky moments and the mysterious white crud around my kid's mouths). 

     3. Sugar packets...for those moments when an unhealthy need for a pick up arises, just kidding. The packets were actually for a cup of coffee I had and wanted to sugar it myself so it wasn't so sweet. They are still in there from a week ago.

     4. Tissue- snotty noses and boogers, of course.

     5. Band-Aides

     6. A pacifier (when they were younger) and now? A car or action figure!

     7. My kid's insurance cards/information for the doctor, etc.

     8. Snacks such as granola bars, bananas, or cheese sticks.

     9. Occasionally, a pair of socks, a diaper or gloves have taken a ride.

     10. A "Mona Lisa" flashlight. Yes, you read that right. I am artsy and it was a gift given to help me find items in my purse when it is dark and or to see the lock at my door when it is dark.

UM, now it is actually another toy to entertain the restless natives at the store.

So, as you can see, I am almost prepared for any kid-like or kid-inducing event! The days of the young woman trying to anticipate and be ready for the cute guy or to be efficient at work is long gone.  Enter the super-adapted momma...ready for gunk, stickiness, owies, germs, hubby's headaches, boredom, and hunger pangs. Ka-pow!

Okay, your turn...what do you have in your purse that well, you know you wouldn't have had even a year ago?

   

Mama Knows...Five Minute Friday

5 minutes on what momma did that made her my momma. (Join the blog party here: FMF)

Ready, Set, Go!

Momma Knows

Momma knows when I am withholding something from her. I know she can't read my mind, but somehow she read my unspoken words. Even up to her sudden passing, she was always willing to open her arms and hold my hands because even through her unhappiness and sometimes hurtful behavior towards me she loved me and my hands...no, she adored my little hands. The crooked pinky too.

I've never doubted her love for me. 

Sure, she struggled with loyalty, praise and kind words but not her love. I felt her deep love. Her longing to fix what she knew she broke. I was her youngest, her baby. I held that place in her heart and no one could take it from me.

My mommy laughed and made it a daily habit to involve others in the laughing. Even in the midst of the pain of losing her own mother, she found humor! We kept receiving chicken dishes: fried chicken, casseroles, stuffed; all the ways one could cook chicken was brought in a kind gesture. Momma couldn't contain her thoughts or her humor. When the doorbell rang she smirked and sarcastically said, "I don't want anymore chicken. If it's chicken, tell them, no thanks."
  

She helped us find joy in something so benign.

It took awhile to desire chicken for a meal. My hands have never looked the same. 

I've found that I share my mother's ability to see life's quirks with the same pair of eyes.Thank you momma for what you did...

In which I think I am ready to jump

My palms are sweaty, my heart's racing, while fear courses thru my heart and veins. There's never a moment that I think of jumping out into the sky...of letting it all go. He has strapped me to him. He has a parachute and so do I. He's got my life literally in his hands and well, he knows it is okay if we jump. Gulp. I don't desire it. I can't do it. He says I can. I don't want to, thank you.

Instead, I would rather be strapped to my chair until I touch ground. It's safer on the ground. My feet can touch and I have some control. 

To make matters worse, I have to jump twice. Um, yeah. Twice!

What if's run through my head. I ache. I am torn. What if I am hearing it all wrong? What if the jumping leads to injury that's permanent? One that I feel for sure I can't recover from. At least that's how it feels right now.

My first jump involves my first born child. He's five. School is looming. Decisions, deadlines, meetings, paperwork and defining choices hang in the air. Every inch I move toward the inevitable makes me ache. Like pushing through deep snow with a layer of ice on top each step stings. I've entertained home schooling, half-day kindergarten and we are signed up for popular schools with lottery systems.  I am not sure what is best for my child. Not entirely anyway. Some of of this I can't control and this is good. No control means God is in complete control.

This is what I really want.

 For God to be in control. Complete control. Here's my recent conversation, "God, you can go ahead and do all the work. You can go ahead and make the decisions for me. I will just sit back and be the chicken, wimpy mommy I am. Okay? Great."

        I also realize that not being ready to send my child off into the world without my hovering, without my protection isn't wrong. In my opinion, it is great. It makes me a loving mom. Okay, yes, I know eventually I have to let him grow up and grow away from me, but how long can I hold that off cause I only think I am ready to jump.

MY SECOND JUMP? It has more consequences than the first. Really!

It involves letting go of relationships where the two involved don't respect me. Where their selfishness gets in the way. They are volatile, unsafe and toxic. I mentioned in a post recently that I don't know why I hang on. This jump feels raw. It feels severe and yet, necessary. There is no point in keeping relationships with family or anyone where there is no reciprocating. Where investing only leads to more hurt, more agony. I haven't even spoken to one in over two years. 

I think I am ready to jump. I hold on tight as the wind of fear slaps me in all directions. God holds me close and whispers, "I know what is best for you and for your family. I hold a parachute of truth you can trust. Hold onto me, jump and I will catch you, always."

I close my eyes...

Your turn, is there some area of your life where you need to jump?

Happily linking up at Jen's Soli Deo Gloria