Two Shoes

I sent him to school (daycare) today with two shoes on his feet. 

Two different shoes. Not even remotely similar. One blue blinky-blinky, the other brown and usually a "Sunday morning shoe." 

It's been a tough couple of weeks around This House with a Toddler. Messed up sleeping schedules, new bed, eating, napping, family in town. He slept through the night last night, well at least until 5:30 or so when he crawled into our bed and said, "Make room for me, Mama." 

So, when we had a tantrum about the diaper and the shirt and the pants and the location of the favorite blankie and whether or not he could play with "the temperature" (yes, but only with the protective covering otherwise it beeps incessantly, which wasn't acceptable), and then he sat in my lap and undid the velcro straps on his brown shoes, handed them to me and let me put them on him, all without fuss, I was thrilled.  

When he took one off and handed me the blinky-blinky shoe, giggling, I put it on him. He let me put his coat on without drama, too, so I packed up the matching pair of mismatched shoes in a bag for him to carry with The Favorite Blankie, and watched him march triumphantly to the car.  I think we both feel like we got away with something this morning, which is what it's all about sometimes. 

Information, please

I love the idea behind Etsy.
But unless I follow a specific link, I get overhwelmed.
If you've used it, would you be willing to share your favorite artist, or two or six?
Thanks!

In response to a question

Where is the Spirit
Where is God when I...
am
preacherpoet motherdaughter
when I am the woman - the woman -
who cries at a yellow house
but does not. leave.it. behind
(and that is important)
when I am the woman
preacher poet who craves
recognition and a
sense of authority or a sense of feeling
of being known
but blogs anonymously, says
no, CRUMBLES when
challenged where is God
SPIRIT HOLY POWER GHOST
and what are my
yearning my challenges, my
gifts and how am I
true to them
I am pulled, pushed but
am I standing firmproudalive
with who I am, or am I shirking
the gifts that God has given
me? What do I yearn
for to do with a glass of
wine, a book and a pen.
what does this give me
the freedom
to do, from the trappings
of these walls we call
church together apart as
one in the world
what am I yearning and
dare I make plans
cast vision
claim mission
I am preacherpoet woman.

Looking Forward

Things I will love about the coming week:
Watching my folks play with the Kidlet.
Mashed Potatoes, because you know I make them with cream and butter and garlic
Turkey. Hot. Cold. Straight from the fridge.
Gravy. The only time of the year when I figure it's OK. Pants that fit be darned.
Pie.
Remembering Days of Thanks gone-by when we've been alone, with friends, with relatives, or hosting.
Playing cards.

There have been too many moments recently that I've wasted getting angry and frustrated with things that don't really matter. They simply don't matter, and yet they have consumed me and filled me with something no less than rage. I'm not proud or happy with the energy that I have wasted. And yet in the moment, clearly I was not able to extract myself from my own muck and mire.

So I look forward to these things, and pray that in the meantime I'm able to take delight in the things that aren't potatoes and gravy, but instead are things like:

Bedtime snuggles.
Book sales.
A glass of wine.
Being alive and of healthy body.

Words.

250.
Not what I wanted.
Razor-sharp.
Edgy.
Not my hair.
Or my mind.
who knew it would be so hard to find a black cami?
Or that I would use that word with such casual flair.
Dry and crunchy.
Again not my hair.
Kicking.
And scuffing.
Raking.
Obliques.
Band-aids.
Pretty folders.
Lists.
Meetings and water.
Tired.
Worry.
Cash.
Blessings.
A sermon.
Pen.
Piles.
Tins.
Sheets.
Fresh, smooth.
Crabby.
Tentative.
Back and forth.
Fighting.
Silence.

Promotion

I don't usually get all giddy about something like this, especially to the point of shamelessly promoting it on my blog.

But I came across these on a recent get-away, and I love them. Love them.

Of course I'm a sucker for all things pomegranate, but really.

OK, I wanted to find a link, but I can't. Pomegranate Lemon-Aid Mints, by Icebreakers. And they come in the cutest little tin. With a flip-top, so they take up less room in my sweet little purse.

And then I was over the top. I'm done. But when you see these at YOUR favorite T@arget, get some.

First

Just sealed the deal on my first cr@igslist purchase.

A bed for The Kidlet.

Which means we can reclaim our guest bed and have company again.

We've looked and looked and looked.

Because I'm cheap. And I don't like how a lot of things that are cheap look.

I'm also a little irrational about spending money which I get from my mother. It took her years to pick out a sofa, not to mention a new dining room table. I feel somewhat doomed as we now eat upon the dining room table that she replaced. There's a picture of me sleeping on top of the table next to a cake celebrating my baptism. Let it be known, though, that this table is not antique or heirloom worthy.

Maybe my next search will be for a table.

Regardless, there's a new bed being delivered tonight. It was cheap. And it looks good.