Juggling

My intention was to write this post on Sunday.  On Sunday I was still flying high off the fumes from an enjoyable weekend and the stories, still fresh, were just waiting to be written.  You know what they say, though. . . best laid plans. 
So the blog sat idle on Monday, on Tuesday, and again on Wednesday because I was blogging a senior shoot and a cute little family over at SummerK.  Well, that and being a Mom of three. . . and all the other roles so many of us juggle every single day.  I’ve learned that I’m a terrible juggler.  Really, it takes every ounce of effort and concentration for me to keep just one ball in the air–throw in another one and I run around much like a chicken with its head cut off.  (Need I remind you of the 1/4 jar of mayo in the cupboard last week?)  I really admire those expert “multi-taskers” who work best when they are balancing 30 “to-dos”, 23 “to-gos”, and 12 “already-dones”.  On the flip side, I equally admire those who know the importance of “I’ll get to it when I get to it'”. 

I am neither one of those.  My MO is more like oh-my-gosh-I-have-to-get-all-of-this done-and-if-I-don’t-I-am a-failure-and-the-world-will-likely-fall apart-and-my-kids-will-be-damaged-and-my-business-will-fail-and-my-friendships-will-wither-and-my-readers-will-leave-me and. . . you get the point. 

As a trained professional therapist, I could totally diagnosed myself.  However, I’ll keep it in layman’s terms. . . I’m neurotic. 

(I just read that above paragraph to Chad hoping to get a laugh.  However, he just shook his head at me.  He thinks it’s sad.  I suppose it is. . . but it’s funny, too, right?)

Truth is, I know I need to learn how to juggle, or at least to be okay with letting a few of those balls drop.  I think that is the journey I am on right now.  (Admittedly, I’m failing miserably.) Let’s say I’m working on it.  Trying to learn how to let go and relax.  Trying to enjoy the journey, rather than sprint through it.  Coming here helps with that.  It helps a lot.  So here I am on Thursday, rather than Monday. . .

My cousin got married this weekend!  It was a beautiful wedding with a beautiful bride and a handsome groom.  I love that weddings are like a big family reunion–but even better.  We get to dress our best and think about love stories.  I dig that. 

Meadow enjoyed her first wedding, though I don’t think it had anything to do with the beautiful bride and handsome groom.  Nope.  She flirted with a little guy about her age during the entire ceremony.  This one?  No words. . .

I was a bit uncertain about how Miss. Meadow would handle the reception.  I anticipated an early departure for us due to our, shall we say, rambunctious girl.  We visited a bit, we ate, we watched the cake be cut, and watched my cousin dance with my aunt and then we expected to leave. . .

But Meadow had other plans. . .

Girlfriend wanted to get down. . .

Truly.  This girl could not get enough of the dance floor.  She danced by herself, she danced with anyone who would dance with her, she got down on the floor and did the howlowcanyougo and she rocked the place.  It was hilarious.  My girl?  She’s a diva.

I have no clue who these girls are. . . Meadow just joined the party.

And during Meadow’s little dance party she may or may not have tore down the hanging decorations on the dance floor. 

Like I said. . . no words.  I suspect if Meadow could talk she would say, can we go to one of those wedding things every day?  I blame Dancing with the Stars.

Charlie, well, he survived it. . .

After the wedding we were able to spend the night with my Dad.  Time with my Dad is, for me, much like I’m sure a fill up is to an empty car.  My Dad and I sat up and talked through Saturday turning to Sunday and it was exactly what my soul needed.  I wish everyone could have a conversation with my Dad.  Somehow, just talking with him helps me to find perspective.  Somehow, when I talk to him life seems so simple.  That’s why when I see him talking with my kids. . . my heart swells. . .

. . . and things seem simple again.  Suddenly, I am able to see the most important moments are those I might pass by if I’m focusing too much on keeping all the balls in the air. 

Moments of summer fun with neighbor friends. . .

Backyard shenanigans. . .

Quiet moments. . .

Playful moments. . .

Mischievous moments. . .

. . . and all of those in between. 

I’m a work in progress.  (A tough one at that.)  Coming here, though?  Things feel good again.  I appreciate this space and this community more than my words could ever express.  Thank you for visiting here.  Thank you for walking with our family.  This place?  It makes me better. . .

Have a great day. . .