“mom, this is the most important day of my life.”

it was cold and rainy.  there was barking and bawking, shivering and coffee drinking.

it was pet blessing day at our church. kudos pastor renee. thank you for asking what each of us could give and then honoring eliza’s offer to help with a pet blessing. eliza made pet treats for all the animals and talked about this day for hours.

pastor renee blessed each animal, live or stuffed, and eliza gave them a treat.

Lord, may we love all your creation,

All the earth and every grain of sand in it.

May we love every leaf, every ray of your light.

May we love the animals,

You have given them the rudiments of thought and joy untroubled.

- Fryodor Mikhailovich Dosteivsky (1821-1881)

we brought our sally, chubby and the baby chicks. sally was freaked out-clearly. for the week before the blessing, eliza would respond to sally’s antics by saying, “oh, good thing you’re about to get a blessing. you need a blessing.”

this was one of those moments when i saw my children embrace church.

church embraces them all the time. children are given space in worship. children are encouraged to ask questions. children’s voices are allowed. toddlers’ screeching is considered joyful noise. children light candles and take communion and play instruments and drink coffee and wander the aisles. they are embraced for who they are.

and this day i saw my kids hug back. i’m grateful on so many levels.

my, my, my.

i have a friend who tells me that lessons will be repeated until they are learned.

i feel like i was given a cheat sheet recently:

11 years ago i was asked how much i determine my worth by what i do.

uhhhh…99.9%?  i do what i like, i like what i do…is there a difference?

it’s still true…i’m living my dream, i find my work soul deeply satisfying, i get great joy out of adding candles and quilt tops to corners of my house, i like the order of typing the bulletin each week, i like arranging snacks in pretty ways, i will play with my kids when they ask, i add christmas lights to rooms year round, but i’m finally embracing the notion that

i simply am.

just like i tell my preschoolers:

everyone was a baby once. everyone was fresh. everyone was born and just was.

and no matter how things go, no matter which way, no matter how well,

either way we are right.

no way! no way! come here! you HAVE to come here. no way. quick! come!

oh, mr. t…the first one to perch on top of the cage.  sally was excited about it too.

since they were starting to show their ability to take flight, we made them a play pen.

these creatures, with bones like glass, continue to provide moments of pause.  they are sweet to watch. the challenge of getting them to fall asleep in our hands is addictive.  how they huddle together or stretch their necks way out is so cute. minutes get swallowed up each day by watching them. for all of us…

but they are also getting bigger.

unlike our kansas day treat for teachers (here couldn’t be a more perfect gift from eliza!), their poop smells. getting the feed into the feeder is tricky for seven year old early morning hands, so there is often feed on the floor.  the waterer leaks when it’s carried across the room, so there is often water on the floor. and all this takes place in a corner of our kitchen, a corner i call the “utility room” because that feels better than thinking of chickens in the kitchen  (say that 3 times fast). but soon they will join the big girls outside…and join in that drama.

our silly barred rocks go outside the back fence, around the garage and make nests in our pampas grass.  eliza found another egg in there today.  the nest is sheltered and the sun shines on them.  so cozy, micah says. i wish i was her.

we stood and watched for more minutes.

when i saw this poster, i loved it. i love how it reminds me of my life now and life i day dream about. i’m fascinated by the animal family groupings and the jet in the sky. we try to figure out what roles the three males in the picture have…dad, grandpa, son? dad, son, son? dad, son, worker?  jerry thinks i should wear heels to feed the chickens.

it’s big map size poster. copyright from the 50s. i decided if it was $15 or less, i would for sure buy it. more than $15 and i’d have to think about it a little more.

score. thank you, et cetera shop.

“it will be easier going home.”

that’s what i said to micah when we were on a one mile run today (side note: i realize the gift this is).  we were heading west into the sun but also into the breeze. we were on a slight incline and the high today was in the low 30s.  it will be easier going home; the wind will be at our back, the sun will still be on us and we’ll be going downhill.  that was all the motivation we needed.  and it was easier.  it was fun.

that phrase kept floating around my head…it will be easier going home.

what are all the homes for us?  at what point do we reach the top of the hill and then begin the ease of heading down?  or is it like the flint hills around here….with peaks and valleys.  why do we talk only about getting to the top of the mountain?  the climb up is satisfying, with legs that feel alive and cheeks flushed with energy.  but isn’t coming down one of the greatest parts?

i’m living in to the awareness of who i am more than ever before. i’m working to accept and claim my anxiety rather than pretend it is an interruption of who i am. i’ve increased my medicine again…this is a hard thing for me who doesn’t even like to take tylenol. but when i wake with stomach churning and limbs tingling, or when i feel a prickle on my neck and my mind won’t settle, or if i have to think to chew my food and all i want is perspective, or if i am preoccupied with why i feel this way and no one else does, i will do what i can to feel like myself again.  and a pill seems to help.  my body loosens, my mind settles, food tastes wonderful, i’m not worried, i’m able to rest.  it bolsters me for the next incline with a cold breeze in my face.

i’m grateful for the valleys…the cozy ones.  the ones with soft grass and maybe a little creek.  the ones that are the reward after that long climb up and swift run down.  the valleys that let me rest, see where i’ve been, open my heart to be prepared for what is to come…

my aunt heidi died this week.

i heard the message, tilted my head to one side and gave a slight nod.  huh, so this is what happened next.  the mystery is so wide.

some would suggest she went home. i trust, i have to, that in those final moments of her life the breeze was at her back, the sun was shining on her and she was going with ease to a home more complete than we can imagine.

“ooooh, are we having a party?”  ”no, why?” “because you bought a party bulb.”

par•ty  n.  A group of people who have gathered to participate in an activity.

well, in that case…this family is a party.  we gather, we participate, we have activity. it doesnt’ say it has to be fun or satisfying or even tolerable.  it just says that we are a group of people gathering and participating.  all pressure off.  the rest is bonus. i like that.

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mr.t (named for her assertive nature) was found with a bloody eye so got her own private quarters for a few days.

then we moved her back with the aforementioned party bulb.  it’s suggested that the red light helps neutralize things and they won’t peck each other as much.

it worked.

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i was made a dress (fit for a party indeed) with thrifted fabric, duct tape and a repurposed shirt.  i haven’t tried it on yet.

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when i unload the dishwasher, it brings me great joy if there is a complete rainbow.  putting them away in that order increases the joy.  small things.

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i’m seeking sunshine as eagerly as they do on this.  maybe i wouldn’t be as happy in portland as i think.

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martin luther king jr day was celebrated all week at preschool.  i love that week.

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and then there is the after party life.  with things out of place and messes to clean up.  full of good food and memories.  a little cranky from too little sleep. that fits for sure. party on.