Let's catch up.
How are you? What's new? I love your shirt.
This weekend was round 53 of my parents giving us their purged belongings. I am starting to feel like I'm living in one giant cardboard box of childhood memories. They brought a VCR and all my old favorite VHS movies. I have mixed feelings on all this. It all takes up SO MUCH SPACE, but all my old Disney movies! Gracie's childhood is SAVED. I also found my lost-but-never-forgotten Backstreet Boys and NSYNC CDs. Also, all the NOW That's What I Call Music! CDs I hoarded until I stopped caring (what are they even up to these days? 5,743?). But NOW 5 will forever remain my favorite for one reason and one reason only: Faded by Soul Decision. Go ahead and listen and be prepared to never stop dancing. I've heard that if you listen to it 100 times in a row, your hair is instantly spiked and frosted. Just don't listen to around your mom. I made that mistake back when "I don't even listen to the lyrics! I just like the music!" was still actually sort of the truth (also I was naive and didn't understand a lot of the lyrics). It's been 15ish years and that song still makes me want to drop it like it's hot.
They also brought heaps and piles of my old schoolwork. On Sunday afternoon, I made my whole family listen to me while I read from my second grade "memory book." I wrote about pool parties and class parties, and there was also a jaunty little story about a talking towel named Shower. My creativity, it knows no bounds. Can you believe James had the nerve to fall asleep while I was reading it?
Yesterday was my birthday. We got some very disappointing news Monday night (everything's fine!) that put me in a really special mood for the actual day of my birth. We tried to make the best of it, though. Gracie's present to me was to cry all day long and take a 30 minute nap. Thank you, darling. Can't wait to reciprocate on your birthday! The poor girl is getting more teeth AGAIN and is just miserable. She has declared a War On Naps, and our house is currently a war zone covered in empty coffee mugs and tears. Teething: it's hard on the whole family. And probably the neighbors, too.
Seriously though, her attitude lately can easily be summed up in this picture:
Speaking of naps, she refused her morning nap and then slept for less than an hour this afternoon. I made the mistake of telling James this morning that I was feeling happier than yesterday, and the day took a sharp decline directly after. Once Gracie was blessedly asleep, I sat down with a cup of coffee and a piece of birthday cake the size of my face (if it's not the size of your face, you're doing it wrong). The second I settled into my sacred corner of the couch, the monitor was filled with shrieks from DisGracie herself. I am now typing this while trying to take discreet bites of cake behind the computer monitor so she doesn't see. There is no eating around Gracie in this house unless you're prepared to share.
Anyway, in happier news, we still have nowhere to live. Oh did I say happier news? My bad. We have some decisions to make in the next couple weeks and approximately zero options at the moment and I'm NOT STRESSED AT ALL NOT EVEN A TINY BIT. I'm laughing like a maniac about it all because if I don't laugh I WILL CRY FOR HOURS. Every housing option we touch turns to crap within 30 seconds. Skyrocketing rent, no houses on the market, bidding wars, sellers about to accept your offer for the house-of-our-almost-dreams when a dang blasted cash offer waltzes in at the last second and RUINS EVERYTHING.
It's FINE. I'm fine. We're going to be FINE.
I wrote that post the other day about trusting God and provision and contentment and all that stuff that sounds really good, and then God was like, but do you REALLY believe it? Because I'm about to put you to the test. LOL. It's funny how things work, isn't it? In that book, Elisabeth Elliot says many times that whenever she writes on something or is preparing to speak on something, God always tests her to see if she REALLY believes what she's saying. Well. I feel you, homegirl. I feel you.
So here I am, starting off life as a homeless 27-year-old. At least we have plenty of cardboard boxes around to live in! I'm kidding. Truly. We're not going to be on the streets, not even close. Our situation is not dire. I am just annoyed with all situations, compounded by the fact that my child has been screaming for days. Also, I could really use a haircut.
But really, I'M FINE. And if I'm not, there's birthday cake for that. Also, Soul Decision.