Crazy Keeps Me Sane

I'm a sucker. It's stamped on my forehead. Put me under a blacklight and you'll see it.

Birthday cakes? No problemo.

Kid-watch? Sure thing. (If your kid isn't a pain, and even sometimes when she is.)

Water your plants while you are on vacation? My pleasure!

Chair the fundraiser auction? You betcha! 

Two years in a row? What's one more year!

Oversee the annual float for the town celebration? Whoop! Whoop! 

Work with you to grow your business? I'm here for ya, sista! 

Run the place while you are on vacation? I can handle that. 

Before you dial my digits for a solid, know this: I'm only a sucker for my friends and family.

I do these things out of love. Out of a desire to participate. Out of a willingness to help and make a difference when and where needed. 

Almost three years ago a dear friend I call Crazy told me of a little plan she had. A plan for a business. A plan for a great business that would be amazing in our city. She's not Crazy because she's loco en la cabeza, she's Crazy because she's always doing. Doing, doing, doing. I'm not sure she knows what the insides of her home or her eyelids look like. Honestly. 

That craziness makes her a great friend too. Why? Because she is always up for anything. And so is her hubs. She dressed them up as Elsa and Kristoff for Halloween 2014. Nobody dresses up for our party except kids. Halloween 2015? All the cool adults dressed up. Star Wars theme for most and then there's the new neighbor who purchased a kids-sized gorilla costume for himself, a full-sized man. Hi-larious. Why were all the middle-aged kids dressed for candy collecting? You guessed it. Crazy said so! 

Call them on Friday afternoon to go out that night? Most often you'll get a "Yes! What should we do!?" response. And no matter what you end up doing with the night, they have joy and humor the entire time. They are amazing people. 

So when she hatched this plan for a business I was ready to be supportive. 100%. 

"Great idea!" 

"You'll be so successful!" 

"Let me know if you need mailings and flyers."

And when she said, "Would you be one of our tour guides? You'll love it!" I hesitated and said, "If you find yourself really hard-up for help, let me know!" and smiled. 

And when she called and said "I have a tour I need you to help with." I swallowed my hesitations and fears and said "What's the date?"

And you know what? Crazy was right. I loved it. And somehow I'm no longer strictly a tour guide, but I've snuck into another role. A position with a title that rests next to "Owner's Friend". I'm currently living the stay-at-home mom dream of working part-time from a home office... and doing it in yoga pants if I please. Sure there are days when I snag an event for myself, get all gussied up and lead a tour group of company execs just for the sake of fun. Because I really am in love with my job.

What is this dream job? I'm living it up as the Tours & Events Manager for Omaha Culinary Tours. That's right, food tours. Like five different restaurant/specialty shoppe stops in a three hour tour. All serving you their specialty menu item. What's not to love? A little local area history, an amazing tour guide and a variety of Omaha Original Restaurants. Bam! You have yourself an evening of fun and food!

So day-to-day I shuttle kids, do favors for friends and work a little on the side for Crazy. With Crazy. I'm becoming a little bit crazy myself as I get deeper and deeper into this exciting business. And as I do, I realize how sane this job is keeping me. It gives me a focus and consistency and reliability and a sense of accomplishment. I'm appreciated and that feels so good.

I recently went to Crazy with the fact that C-dub, the little, is going to start Kindergarten in the fall... My baby!!! **tears, sobs,**... I digress... and I needed to either
a) get more hours from the company
or
b) look elsewhere for a job
in anticipation of the date when my nest is empty for seven hours a day. (August 12, 2016.)

(Eeeek!! I like love my job! I don't want a job elsewhere! ...deep breaths...)

Accommodating.
That's the word for Crazy and her business partner... they came up with two ways to keep me and get me the hours I need and maintain my ability to drop off & pick up kids from school, to be the party parent, to be there on sick days and for field trips.
Sanity with the crazy = LOVE!

So for now I'll keep on keepin' on with the hours I have, setting up walking tours and bus tours and finding the perfect fit for a corporate group's private event. I'll contact restaurants and bus companies. Write scripts for tour guides and order cupcake desserts and Cordial Cherries. Pick up kids from school and take care of them when they are sick. On occasion I'll load up a group on a shuttle bus and take them to some of Omaha's finest restaurants. I'll keep my own level of crazy going and in it I'll find sanity.

On a daily basis I'm in love with this new gig I've let myself be "suckered" into. Because doing so keeps me sane.

Crazy keeps me sane. 

164 Days and Counting

Another calendar into the circular file. Its only been there a handful of days, but I'm still finding myself screaming for summer.

June 20. First day of summer 2016. For reals.

H-O-T. Lazy days on the lake. Swimming, fishing, tubing, kayaking, camping, stand-up-paddleboarding, laying in the sun doing nothing. That's what I told the 7 year-old last night as we snuggled and dreamed of life 164 long days from now. (Today is January 8, adjust accordingly dear reader.)

Laying in the sun doing nothing. Do you want know what my little philosopher said about that? "That's not possible mom. You would be doing something. You would be laying in the sun. It's not possible to do nothing. Ever."

I did not argue. If she wants to tell me I'm "doing something" by laying in the sun, soaking up God's goodness and warmth and nature's beauty well, by gosh, I'm going to go with it. So that's where you'll find us this summer. In the sun. Doing.

Yesterday I was treated to an AM coffee session with a wildly versatile friend. Versatile in that she can be serious and spiritual and honest, but she can take a 1/4 turn and be sassy pants and hilariously inappropriate. I love that about her. We chatted about our church book study. We chatted about the kids and life. Then we chatted about summer. Because, I said it once, I'm screaming for it. She scoffed at the absurdity of my passion as she pointed out the window to the grey, slushy, dreariness that is Nebraska in January. But she didn't stop there, she pointed out the number of months before summer actually hits our front doors. Thanks for that, sassy pants.

This little convo over my iced frappe (yes, I realize that's a summer drink... have you heard a thing I've said so far???) led me to spout nonsense that others were sure to snicker over as they cupped their hot coffee mugs. I made a plan for the summer. Plans for fun and carefree days.



1. We will have a pool in our back yard.
Inflatable? Yes.
Manufacturers Max Capacity of 5? Yes.
Backyard Real Life Capacity of 10? For Sure.
Fun? Hell yes!

2. We will have the slip n' slide & the bounce house out.

3. We will have backyard parties, cookouts and sleepovers.

4. We will go to the "real" pool 1x/week or more.

5. We will hang out in the yard and read books.

6. We will have friends over.

7. We will go camping.




















8. We will build backyard forts.

9. We will...

WE WILL!!! We will do what summer is meant for! This...

And the time frame for all this "doing?" This year we get **Hallelujah** 12.5 weeks. TWELVE AND A HALF weeks of summer vaca!! The school calendar writers must have kids in school this year because we start a full week and a half LATER than usual!!!

You can blame my summer fever on Husband. He gave me a SUP (Stand Up Paddleboard) for Christmas. Christmas, ya'll. December. Five solid months prior to lake weather. Because my birthday is in the middle of July... then I would have missed out on a month and a half of the season. He was thoughtful on this one. Except for the "summer fever" part of the deal. He can't help it. He didn't know.

So, my dear friends, while you are busy sipping hot cocoa, making your New Year's Resolutions, going on a diet and vowing to work out I'll be over here planning my summer.

Only 164 days to go...

Sometimes You Gotta Shine

Today I decided to shine. Shine brighter than a shooting star. Brighter than that girl at church camp. I was going to be the face of joy and happiness. And I did. I was bubbly and bright, sunshine and sparkles. Rainbows and unicorn farts, ya'll. Yup. Unicorn farts.

You see, the last few weeks have left me in a bit of a funk. Here, there, everywhere. Busy, busy, busy. And if you know me, you know how much I adore busy. But sometimes, just sometimes, I have to s-l-o-w i-t d-o-w-n. Yesterday I was cranky and funky and a bit of a gruffly stinker. I didn't care and wanted nothing but a rest. And when I whispered to the hubs, "are we going to make them go to TaeKwonDo tonight?" and he mumbled, "I'm not taking them" I sighed a sigh of extraordinary relief. I was done. Stick-a-fork-in-me kind of done. I did not want to shuttle kids another place. I didn't want to watch through the glass as they did the same kicks and punches and obstacle course they've been doing for 7 months. I wanted to be home and do nothing more than be ordinary, everyday me. And to do it in my jammies. On the living room floor. Or the couch.

But today I could feel the shift when I woke up.
Even though our son had slept on the floor next to our bed again, for the 30th night in a row.
Even though we'd spent the day before with him being pricked and medicated and told to breathe hard and x-rayed...
Even though I know my girlfriend is starting the biggest battle of her life...
Even though I wasn't prepared for this morning's book study at church...
Even though my back and my feet and my wrists still ache like always...
Even though...
I felt it. It was a great day to be alive. It was a great day to be joyous. To be wonderful and happy and fun.

So I did. I enjoyed this day like none other in recent history. I've had good days, sure. I've enjoyed the company of others, most definitely. But today the sun was shining, the bees were buzzing (all around my delightful cream soda, mind you) and everyone seemed to be smiling. I visited a girlfriend and she got a great gift in the mail. She makes me smile anyway, but today she paraded around town in a Wonder Woman costume, making a zillion other people smile.

Despite my slight lack of preparation I threw myself whole-heartedly into this morning's book study at church and I feel like we had another day of incredible discussions. And it seemed, to my overly bright and bubbly self,  that everyone else at church for this morning's study was a little more bubbly and bright today too. The prayer requests were mostly of praise. The conversation was full of zest and vigor. The chatting was incessant. And the happiness was tangible. Real, honest-to-goodness happiness. Joy.

The joy I felt made me want to extend it to others, so I let my kids play on the school playground for a bit before taking them to the park to meet friends and play. For hours. Hours. I had no idea we had managed to dilly-dally away nearly two full hours at the park. Because I was enjoying this day more than any other lately. My heart is bursting today and I can't help but share.

So here's a bit of sunshine for you today. I pray that your day be full of the joy and giddiness that can only come from God. He wakes us each morning with the blessing of a new day. A day to live life fully and awesomely. With the freedom to smile at everyone we meet. To wear a costume around town. To make up words to describe how we feel. To live and love living.

Go into this day with a smile and a heart bursting with love for this life.
It's yours.
Live it.
And live it wildly, crazily, amazingly.

Because sometimes you gotta shine.

A Wrinkled Heart

Ella came home from school this week with a wrinkled heart...

Her heart wasn't hurt or sad or even lonely. It wasn't lost or feeling blue. It wasn't even a little bit damaged that day. There are certainly days where it is, but that day she brought home a wrinkled heart for all of us to see.

What she brought to us that day was a paper heart. A wrinkled paper heart that now hangs on a door in our home where my kids will see it zillions of times a day. A heart that reminds us how tender our real hearts are. A heart that reminds us that our words have the power to wrinkle and crumple.

Not only was her heart wrinkled, but her heart was also torn. A sign of what was to come this weekend. I can't begin to tell you how thankful I am for that heart that came home in a backpack. It gave us a place to begin a discussion that was overdue, because a heart in our home was wrinkled and beginning to rip right down the middle...

Cassius: "Ella will be so happy when I go spend the night with Auntie S and Uncle K."
Mom: "Why do you think that? I bet she'll miss you!"
Cassius: "Because she hates me. She always says she hates having a little brother. She hates me... "

If you can't imagine that conversation with a broken-hearted 4 year old, read it again. Read it with pure sadness. With a wrinkled heart. With a heart beginning to rip right down the middle.

"Because she hates me. She always says she hates having a little brother. She hates me. She's not going to miss me, she'll be happy I'm gone."

Oh the wrinkling and tearing that went on in this momma's heart that moment. The wrinkling and tearing that I felt for him. His tiny little heart that loves his sissy. The heart that is excited to see her after school each day. The heart that wants to be sure he gets her a sucker from the grocery store or a sticker from the bank. The heart that makes her pictures and bracelets and thoughtfully picks out her birthday gift months in advance. That little heart was wrinkled, crumpled, stomped on and torn. Right. Down. The. Middle.

When the vice grip on my heart loosened we had a chat and some hugs and loves and reassurances that she does love him and so do daddy and I. That he isn't hated, but loved and cherished and treasured and adored. I smoothed as many of those wrinkles as I could. I got out the tape and patched the tear... but that's not so easy to do.

When his heart was starting to smooth I sent him to the lunch table with daddy and called sissy to her room. I sat on her bed and waited. And I cried. He was hurt and I was hurt. My disappointment and tears of sadness flowed easily but tenderly.

She needed to understand.

She needed to know the damage done.

Her overwhelming feelings of regret were immediately obvious as she listened to me tell her how her brother was feeling. The hurt he shared in three simple words: "she hates me". The sadness he was feeling and the tears that he had cried. The wrinkles she had put in his heart.  The tiny tear that was spreading into a big rip right down the middle.

I reminded her of the wrinkled heart she had brought home from school. The heart that was no longer just a whisper in her ear. A sentiment that wasn't intended just for the classroom but all the hearts she'll ever encounter...

That little girl's heart began to wrinkle right at that moment. The moment she realized. The moment she knew the hurt she'd caused.

The fixing is coming along slowly but surely. This morning in church as Cassius sat on my lap and Ella snuggled up next to me he put his arm around her shoulder and she reached up and held his hand.

There are daily reminders to give love. Because to give love often means you shall get love.

The bathroom door between their rooms bears a wrinkled, crumpled, ripped and tattered reminder of what our words mean to others.

Ella came home from school this week with a wrinkled heart... and it is beautiful.