in pursuit of wild things

Today hurt. Today was our last “official” Sunday with our church family. My Sunday School class gave me a lovely blue platter as a goodbye gift. Sparkles received a little cross pin from one of the sweet ladies that always chats and hugs her. I’ll miss these people…more than I know how to express. I managed not to cry at church but blubbered on the way home. I turned up the music so the kids wouldn’t notice. I know that will find another church home and feel very blessed. But I also know that every church is a beautiful and unique expression of the Body of Christ.

We worked on the house this week, finishing the deck. The house inspector also came this week and we are anxiously awaiting his report so we will know what else we need to do before putting out home on the market. I also set a date for the movers. I’ve also hosted realtors, termite inspectors and movers. I feel like our life is being summed up by pounds, flaws, and net worth.

This past week I started working on downsizing some of our belongings. So far I’ve packed about five boxes of stuff to be donated to charity shops. Some things were just too precious to donate and I found beloved friends willing to adopt my treasures into their homes. I also came across some things in the back of my kitchen cabinets that I didn’t even know I owned. I found

two pressure cookers, about a dozen Christmas platters and some of my Grandmother’s canning equipment. I think my mom has been stashing stuff at my house in secret…kinda funny and a little weird.

This week I will continue to purge unneeded items and start giving the house a thorough cleaning. Mostly just the windows…we cannot do too much until after the movers clear the place out. Then I’ll have to arrange for carpet cleaners and clean the house from top to bottom. A part of me wants to hire someone for that job…I’m not looking forward to cleaning the house and keeping my four kiddos occupied in an empty home.

Despite all the meetings and preparations for moving we did manage to fit in some fun this week. I took the kids to meet with friends at the local splash park. Actually, we went twice this week. The kids had a blast and both times I forgot to put Littlest in his swimming trunks! Not that he cared one bit. All this moving business has turned Littlest into a needy little boy. He’s been my constant shadow all week…poor fella.

I had some fun with Sparkles this week. We put in the permanent pink dye in her hair this week. The Kool-aid trick was fun but she wanted something a little brighter and a little longer lasting. This time we bleached her tips so her hair would absorb the dye better and then applied the pink dye. Both times I used the baggie trick and it turned out super-duper cute. She loves it and that is what matters to me. My mother would never do something like that with me and I learned to quit asking at a young age. I remember promising my newborn girl that I would do all the fun things with her she asked of me. My mom used to bury herself in romance novels and my brother and I eventually learned not to bother her if she was reading. I remember getting whipped with a wooden spoon because my little brother needed a band aid and he was too afraid to ask her.  I started learning how to get through life without needing her for anything. Looking back I can see she was just trying to endure a miserable marriage. I guess my brother and I were the chains that kept her prisoner.

I prefer plastic spoons to wooden spoons. I reckon it is because wooden spoons were mom’s choice of instrument for punishment. I keep a few wooden spoons in a container on my kitchen counter. I remember mom when I see them. I remember what it felt like to be an unwanted nuisance to my mother. I never want my children to feel that way about me. So, I keep the wooden spoons as a reminder to never make them feel unwanted. I have my moments when all I want is a little peace and quiet…but as soon as I walk into my kitchen I’ll see those wooden spoons. They convict me and are a witness to my weak moments. I’ll never be a perfect mother. But so long as my kids know that I love them and want them then I am content. I was tempted to put the wooden spoons in the donation box this week. Instead I put them back on the counter. I need them on those days when motherhood is so overwhelming. Children need their mother’s love, they need to know that no one believes in them more than I do. The spoons remind me to be compassionate and to pray. I see those spoons and remember how blessed I am to be a mother.

Linking up with Weird Unsocialized Homeschoolers

Super heroes…