I Want to Run

Any place but where I am
Is where I want to be
I can't make peace this side of green

Fighting demons in my head
Wears me out, wears me thin
I want to run, I want to run
But there's no place, no safe space,
Free from me
I'll always be where I am

Which direction should I take
I never was so good
With knowing east from west
It'd all feel the same and lost,
So lost, is where I'd end up every time

Aimless on an endless path till
Someone catches onto me,
Grabs and holds and won't let go

Strong hands set me right
I want to run, I want to run
Into these arms that hold and
Won't let go

Can I Call My Own Bluff?

So, I wrote a goodbye post last week.

Hello!

I'm full of surprises, aren't I?

The day after I wrote the post, I dropped the kids off at choir and immediately burst into tears. I can't explain how I knew my sadness was related to the idea that I wouldn't be blogging in the foreseeable future, but I did know it. I had thought my well of words had run dry, but when I published that post, suddenly there was a bubbling fountain of fresh words that wanted to pour out as much as those tears were flowing so freely down my face.

I realized that there was a problem, but my solution was incorrect. At least, I think that is the case. This is not a math theorem with a proof. (Please note: I have no idea if that even makes sense because WORD PERSON, so bear with me.) So in my haste to fix, or take a step to fix, what has been causing sadness, I made a quick decision. I'm still trying to figure out what is going on with me (read: I'm wrestling), and I hope to try to work some of it out by maintaining this journal, instead of tossing aside something I love just because of some difficulty.

Brilliant, no?

Plus, there are things I want to remember, yo. And based on the way I forget why I walked into a room from across the house, clearly my mind isn't up to the task of retaining awesome memories forever.

So, Mom, you don't have to look at those durned burned muffins anymore. And if you keep coming back, you'll see a mustache...that isn't even mine!

A Big Dinner

When you are in the process of cooking dinner to deliver to the Sunday evening college ministry in a few hours, this is not the way you want your corn bread muffins to turn out. If Grandma Lillie were coming to dinner, that is one thing...although, I only know about her affinity for black-bottomed biscuits, and am not sure about corn bread.

I even managed to set off the fire alarm.

Once I got the alarm off, I had to decide what to do with the rest of my batter. I chose to make a 9x13 dish of corn bread, and since I don't have two ovens, it was with great fear and trepidation that I slid the dish with what was left of my precious batter back into my moody oven.

The corn bread came out perfectly that time (so much so that I wanted to eat it myself), and by then I was well on my way to a giant batch of white chicken chili.

Do you know what happens when you use vegetable broth instead of chicken broth in white chicken chili? You get orange chicken chili. I was trying to make a small portion for a vegetarian student, so I needed to use the veggie broth...it never occurred to me that vegetable broth would be so, well, veggie colored.

It simmered down, literally and figuratively, after a bit, and I put the chili into two big aluminum pans to heat through in the oven. Suddenly it was 4:06 and I still had to put brownies on a platter, put a lid on the salad (no salad shenanigans...thank you), and get everything in the car to go over to the church, drop the kids off at choir, and deliver the food. I have a great deal of respect for those who cook for large groups, especially daily. Whoa.

Y'all, I didn't even taste the chili before I took it over. I hope it was okay. I did, however, taste the brownies, which were just fine.

I've never had a problem with brownies...making or eating them.

I Have Nothing to Say; Do You Want to Hear It

I spoke with Wendy today and she said,"You haven't blogged in a while." I told her I ran out of things to say. Our days look the same, for the most part. How much does anyone want to see the girls doing math or reading or history? Other than doing schoolwork, the kids are at church, in choir, and once a week Christian has been playing baseball.

I decided to look at my phone pictures, and I did come up with some moments that are mundane, yes, but are also part of what keeps the mundane from becoming seemingly meaningless. From pants twisted around my washing machine agitator (which certainly lives up to its name at a moment like that) to Christian's creative version of being obedient and staying out of the sand pit, these scenes do manage to keep the days from being as monotonous as I might have thought. What are your days full of?

GOBIG

A while back, my sister-in-law sent me an email with a brilliant suggestion. She proposed that the two of us make a plan and she even had a name for it: GOBIG. GOBIG, or Get Our Butts in Gear, would encompass eating, exercise, and household maintenance. 

Considering I ate three doughtnuts today as well as the equivalent of an entire slice of cheesecake from The Cheesecake Factory, it seems that I'm taking the GOBIG philosophy in a direction that is the exact opposite of its intended purpose. 

Two Sundays ago I caught a glimpse of my arm in the window of my van as I was pumping gas. I was quite surprised to see such an arm attached to my body; it didn't look like what I thought my arm looked like at all! When we got home, I changed into exercise clothes and faced off with Jillian Michaels and her assistants. It wasn't pretty, but I got started on the 30-Day Shred without any hesitation. (Seriously? I was in pain for days. My legs, my abs, and those muscles across the top of my chest (pecs? Do I have pecs? Apparently I do.) were so sore, it hurt to erase the whiteboard. I'm not even kidding.) 

I began the exercising, however, I did not make drastic changes to my diet. I did cut way (WAY) back on my soda intake, which I think is a good start. The truth is, I need to stop drinking it altogether. It has no redeeming qualities (assuaging my frustration is not a good quality...I know this) and in fact, has the potential to do great harm to my body (and probably my mind). 

So, I did the exercise video for the first ten days, skipping one day because MY ALLERGIES! WERE! KILLING! ME! and the Rangers lost game #163 and were done for the season. Then I took a break yesterday, and I can't really remember why, but I think I had a reason. Today I did not exercise because I ate half my calories for the day in dessert, and on a day like that, exercise just seems pointless. A waste of time. I can see on the one side that some might make the argument that on a day like that exercise seems like exactly the right thing to do. But those people are clearly not thinking straight. 

Me? I? I am thinking quite straight. I say: Tomorrow is Sunday. Sunday, the start of a new week, is a perfect day to start fresh. Sunday, October 6, 2013, is a great day to GOBIG! 

Which means I will not GO to Sonic for a BIG drink. Nor will I GO to the fridge for a BIG piece of cheesecake. I will do my part to Get One's Butt in Gear, namely, this one Christina Walker! Wendy...are you with me?!