Archives for 2011

The Cheesecake Factory Girls

October 7, 2011 by Kelli

We sat outside, the twinkle of the white lights giving the night sky a blissful glow. There were five of us, four young ones…and me.

They call me their favorite mom-friend and I take it as a great compliment. Each one of those girls holds a unique and special place in my heart. Each one has impacted me in ways they will never fully understand. Each one has challenged me and given me both a hope and a dream for what my daughter could someday look like.

In a world that tells you teenagers are selfish and obnoxious, these girls are proving that the world is wrong. They are smart and funny and sensitive and sweet. They are aware of the world around them and possess maturity beyond their years. Come to think of it, most of the teenagers at our old church possess these qualities. It is why we had such an amazing body of believers. Because where there are amazing teenagers, there are more often than not amazing parents standing behind them.

This was a parting dessert. I wanted to gather the four of them together at one time, and in one place, to tell them just how much they meant to me and just how proud I was of them. I fumbled with my words. I’m better with a keyboard than I am in person. I’m all awkward and Gen X that way…

You don’t find young people like these four girls often. They are kind, considerate, thoughtful, sweet, witty, smart and they are all drop dead gorgeous on the inside and the out. One of the four asked if she could go to China for her sixteenth birthday so that she could serve little ones in an orphanage. And she did it. The others have served in Haiti, in Mexico and in downtown St. Louis. Not because they had to, but because they wanted to.

These girls have impacted my life by giving me the encouragement I needed on the hard days of parenting. Because I know their parents. I know that the Cheesecake Factory girls are merely a product of God’s grace and firm, loving parenting. And the three couples who parented these four girls are some of the people we most dearly miss. They are the three couples who were at the top of the list of reasons we should not move away.

It’s not that these are abnormal teenagers by any stretch of the imagination. We spent a portion of our evening at the Cheesecake Factory looking for the hunky Australian waiter who worked there. We never found him, unfortunately. But in the looking, I fell in love with the Cheesecake Factory girls even more.

They are regular teenage girls who exhibit grace in extraordinary ways. The Cheesecake Factory girls are a picture of true beauty.

When the world says that teenagers are out of control, I always remember the Cheesecake Factory girls and I take heart. There is hope for me and there is hope for those of you who are currently in the trenches of raising young children.

Why do people say these elementary years are the easy part of parenting? Because they’re not! They are fun years and I am going to miss the young years desperately, but they are not easy. These are the years when all the battles must be won. These years of childhood are the years when it’s the hardest.

But…

If we win the battles now, what delight awaits us! We will raise our own Cheesecake Factory girls…and boys. Teenagers that are fun and delightful and a joy to spend time with. The fun years await us if we’re willing to fight the fight right now. Join with me as we battle for the deepest parts of the souls of our children, won’t you?

This weekend I am thankful for grace, for godly examples and for the Cheesecake Factory girls.

“Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity.” 1 Timothy 4:12

Image credit

Filed Under: faith, Family, Kids, Motherhood Tagged With: Cheesecake Factory, Motherhood, Raising Kids, teenagers, Youth

Swirling life in a cup of tea

October 4, 2011 by Kelli

When I made this decision, I knew it wouldn’t be easy. Staying at home with your children full time is hard. It’s a different kind of hard when you choose to not only be their mother, but also their full time educator. I knew it would be hard going into this.

And I was right.

Evenings are my refuge and my respite. They are the brief moments when all the world stills and my tea cup sings (or…you know…sometimes it’s a wine glass singin’). Evenings are for the dishwasher humming and the stars twinkling and the melodic breathing of settled youth. I only wish the evening lasted a little longer.

I’ve tried to make evening last too long, lately. I’ve tried stretching it past the point of grace and peace and into fatigue. When the tea cup cools and the dishwasher quiets and my brain forgets how to weave words into paragraphs, the evening has long since passed.

This is not wise.

Because, you see, mornings come all too quickly. They are loud and bright and full of boisterous energy. There once was a time when I was a morning person. I adored the quiet sounds of the day breaking – the applause of heaven as sunlight streaked the darkened sky – the grass that stood tall beneath the drops of dew delicately placed on her blades – the birds that chirped good morning as the heat pushed the cool night air away with the moon.

I loved this time of day.

I still do. I just can’t seem to get up early enough to meet it. This is because I’m too busy flirting with night. And because I spawned three who love the morning more than I and who make it their life’s mission to get up before the sun each. and every. day.

So I continue to befriend the night sky – my tea and I snuggled up inside the quiet. And it’s here that I am trying to find the time to do…everything.

Everything, unfortunately, except the most important thing. The thing that really does need to have its place in the morning, when my mind is most fresh and most willing to hear. There are pictures to hang and walls to paint, books to write and boxes to move, clothes to fold and floors to mop, and all the while three little voices yelling, “Mom!”

There’s a story that my mom tells about my grandmother when she was a young mother living on the mission field with four little ones to care for and more work to do than could possibly be done. When the moment came that she had finally reached her breaking point, she would turn to her demanding little brood and wag her finger. “My name isn’t ‘Mom’ anymore,” she’d say. “My name is ‘Horse’s Butt’ and you’re not aloud to say that so you can’t call me.” And off she’d go, her silenced bunch contemplating the weight of her words.

That is the best. line. ever. Am I right?

I totally get it now. And don’t think I haven’t been tempted to bust that gem out a time or two these last few weeks.

Sometimes all the work needs to wait.

I have a friend who knows me well. She’s one of the Ribbons. And she was knit with me in a special way long ago when we were both newly married and full of love and wonder at God and life. Her mind, like mine, teams with creative energy. Her heart overflows with endless desires. Her children need her fully and her husband craves her attention, as do mine. She knows the pull and the strain of wanting, wishing, trying…to do it all.

And failing.

We are on opposite coasts and yet she still manages to speak Truth and encouragement to me on a regular basis. Through texts, emails and phone calls she reminds me that there is One who craves me above all others. And that One deserves my attention first.

Her text to me today spoke grace completely:

“Take courage today and do the work God has laid before you…What does God desire from you in your heart and in your actions today? Just a thought.”

Swirling hot tea steams before me and my Bible lays open, the magic of the Word waiting for me to dive in. Tonight, I will. Tomorrow, I will try again. I’m thankful for friends from coast to coast who love me enough to keep pushing me forward to better things.

I’m thankful for the Ribbons and for the Ribbon Maker who keeps weaving my life into something grand. I’m thankful for tea and the stillness in which to savor it.

Grant me the ears to hear.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Kids, Life, Motherhood, Moving Tagged With: faith, FRIENDS, Homeschooling, Life, Motherhood

Unexpected Blessings

October 2, 2011 by Kelli

When we began our house search in sunny Florida, we initially told our Realtor we did NOT want a pool. Neither one of us grew up with a pool, therefore the idea of keeping and maintaining one was desperately daunting.

Then we started looking at houses and we realized two things: 1.) Finding a house without a pool in Florida is almost as difficult as finding a house without a basement in St. Louis. They’re almost standard. And 2.) Of the few houses we saw without pools, none were desirable enough for us to get excited.

So we ended up in a house with a pool. And we were nervous. But no need to fear! The owner of our local pool store came out free of charge and gave us a “Pool School,” telling us anything and everything we need to know about pool maintenance. In exchange we plan to give him our business. And that’s the way you run a successful business, folks!

For our part, we are officially glad we got a house with a pool. We have used it every single day and will continue to do so until it gets too cold (we don’t have a heater). The pool has been enjoyable both day and night.

Warning to Grandparents! The following photos contain images of your grandchildren being flung to precarious heights. View at your own discretion…

This child of mine is insane. She is going to send me to an early grave.

He's crazy too. But he had sense enough to know his limits. "Dat's too high, Daddy."

She, on the other hand, came out of the water screeching, "Higher next time, Dad! HIGHER!"

This one has, unfortunately, gotten a little too big for maximum flinging...much to his chagrin.

This week has been full of unexpected blessings. Walking the dog last night, I looked up and the sky took my breath away. Our neighborhood is far enough outside of the city that we get an unpolluted view of the night sky.

Spectacular.

Our neighbors are fun, friendly and have boys who love to play football.

Our house, minor quirks aside, is really coming together and feeling like home.

Home Schooling is going really, really well.

Today were the Powerboat races at Clearwater Beach. With temps in the upper ’70’s it made for the perfect ending to a lovely weekend.

So many blessings.

Front row seats to the race. It's kind of difficult to get a photo of Landon in the water because he's always upside down. I'm pretty sure the kid's got gills...

I pray you all have a blessed October week!

Is anyone else totally freaked out by the fact that it’s October?! The holiday season is upon us, folks. How did it get here so fast?!

Filed Under: Family, Florida, Life, Moving Tagged With: Blessings, Clearwater Beach, Florida, Kids, moving, Pool

Big Foot, Roman Soldiers and the Voices in my Head

September 27, 2011 by Kelli

It is quiet and I am alone. Three children sleep in their beds, the first time all three have slept in their beds since we moved in.

A new house is scary. There are sounds to fear. And other things…

“Mom, I can’t sleep,” he said, coming out for the four-frillionth time. “I’m too scared!”

“What are you scared of?” I ask…also for the four-frillionth time.

“I was just starting to close my eyes and I imagined I was a Roman soldier being killed…”

That is scary.

After assuring him that he would, indeed, not die the violent death of a Roman solider, and also reiterating once again the fact that Big Foot does not indeed exist, we headed back to his room.

“Big Foot is real!” he protested. “I saw it on TV.”

Yet another reason we did not hook up cable.

“Honey, even if Big Foot were real, he wouldn’t live in Florida. It’s too hot here. And there are no mountains or tall trees for him to hide in. Big Foot lives in Oregon…if he exists…which I don’t think he does.”

Silence.

“But you said bears live in Oregon.” God help the poor child if he ever has to live in Oregon. Don’t worry Oregonians (right?), I didn’t pin monsters on you. I told the kids monsters live in Canada.

S’all good.

“Lay down, babe,” I said, brushing my hand across his silky smooth cheek. Would that I could bottle his skin up…

“Let’s find something you can hold on to while you go to sleep so you don’t have to be scared,” I said, looking around his room.

“I can hold on to you,” he replied grabbing hold of my hand and looking up with ocean blue eyes. And I melted…fast. Knees buckled, a mass of goo, I slid under the covers and held his hand. Five minutes later, he slept. All the lights are still on in his room. Because Big Foot doesn’t like light. If he did, we’d have caught him and there would be no need for a TV show.

And now I sit in an empty, quiet, semi-organized room. I believe I have found my writing zone in this new house. I love this front room. It’s peaceful and happy and I feel inspired here. Last night I stayed up, much too late, writing, for the first time focused on my book. The voices of my characters are swirling and moving again.

I’m going to finish it, friends. It may mean I have to spend a little less time with you and a little more time with the people I want to introduce you to. Bear with me as I find my stride. And in the meantime, if you could all be on the lookout for Big Foot and let me know when and if you find him.

I, on the other hand, will continue to keep the air bed inflated on the floor next to my bed.

Something tells me we’re going to need it for awhile.

Image Credit

Filed Under: Family, Florida, Kids do the darndest things, Novel, Sloan, writing Tagged With: Big Foot, Motherhood, moving, New House Fears, writing

Who’s got time to be addicted?

September 26, 2011 by Kelli

"There's another new social networking site that I'm supposed to join?!"

So here it is, friends. I am struggling with the rat race that has become social media and there is one reason for it:

I don’t flipping have time.

I love blogging. This here little space of mine is where I often times work out what’s swirling around inside my head and heart. I don’t organize and plan my posts ahead of time. Maybe I should, but that’s not really how my brain operates. I process my emotions through the melodic clicking of the keyboard. It’s where my heart flows. And you want to know what?

Sometimes I don’t share everything I write.

Sometimes the emotions are too raw…too personal. But many times I can’t voice my heart unless I’m writing it out. So blogging? I totally get it.

Everything else? Exhausts me.

Amber from Crappy Pictures wrote about why being a mom makes her suck at Twitter. Through my tears of laughter I’m pretty sure I uttered a hearty “Amen” or two as I read her post. I can’t get into Twitter. My posts usually go like this: “I’m baaaaaack. How’s everyone doing to tonight? #finallybackontwitter”

No one will respond to this tweet, of course, because no one knows me on Twitter. And because, unless I’m writing an article that needs to be promoted for someone else, I usually only tweet about once everyone two weeks.

Because that’s all I have time for.

I mean, I guess I could check my twitter stream a little more every day and try to converse, but I never really know how to converse with Twitter followers without feeling like a creepy cyber-stalker.

I like Facebook…because I get it. I know most of the people on Facebook and they know me. I can post something on Facebook and come back hours later and respond to any comments, whereas with Twitter it seems you need to respond right away or else you’re like the rude neighbor who walks away mid-conversation and never returns.

The frustrating part in all of this is that marketers and others who may want to hire your services in social networking or online writing often look at how wide your impact is, and part of that is your activity on Twitter. They also look at how many Facebook friends you have, how many people are reading your blog, how many comments you get and what kind of toilet paper you use.

Hmph.

It starts to feel like a nasty competition and in the midst of all the running, I can easily lose focus on why I’m doing what I’m doing. I’m writing because I love it. I’m writing because I’m good at it. I’m writing because I believe it is a form of praise, an offering back of that which I have been given.

I’m writing because it’s fun. Trying to keep up with the pack detracts from that and every once in awhile I have to tighten the reigns and remember what life is all about. And with so much to keep up with, it helps to simply unplug every once in awhile.

Part of the online madness stems from the fact that there is just so dang much to keep up with anymore. Now there’s Instagram, which sounds totally fun…if you have an iphone, which I don’t so I’m off the hook with that one. No temptation! Guh-lory!

There’s also StreamZoo and Google Plus and LinkedIn (yes, I know I have several invitations to Link up on LinkedIn, but I can’t remember my password so there’s a good chance I’m never going to accept those invitations for which I hereby sincerely apologize), and a whole host of other networking sites that are cropping up and my head just exploded.

I just want to make my kids a sandwich.

And write.

And maybe, just maybe, keep up with the constant flow of online craziness so that in a few years when my son comes prancing in the door and announces he wants to open up a ShowMyLifeToTheWorld account, I’ll know what it is and whether or not I want him partaking.

I’m trying to stay cool, folks! I mean, aside from my rockin’ minivan, I’ve got very little left with which to garner cool points.

So here it is, social media overwhelms me. Sometimes it’s just too much.

What are your thoughts?

Filed Under: Blogging, Random, things I don't need to hear, writing Tagged With: i suck at twitter, social networking, the online rat race, twitter

Buried Alive

September 25, 2011 by Kelli

I’m writing this from beneath a mountain of boxes. I managed to carve a path from the kids’ rooms to my own where I have prepared a bed on the floor for the first to wake up scared and hightail it this way.

I thought packing boxes was overwhelming, but unpacking them raising the bar of crazy to a whole new level. I think I made a dent today. I can see the kitchen counter and I found the table top later this afternoon. It was a glorious sight.

In lieu of the fact that I have nothing remotely interesting or witty to say, I’m going to send you over to my friend Wendy. You might remember her as the woman who gave me the greatest writer’s getaway ever earlier this year. Now it’s time I gave you all a proper introduction.

Wendy is a mother of three rough and tumble boys and she just may have the best Mom of Boys blog on the world wide web. Wendy is always an inspiration to me not only because she’s talented and filled with a depth of wisdom and grace that constantly challenges me to dig deeper. Wendy is also an inspiration because she’s real. She doesn’t pretend to have it all together. She’s just…authentic. And I love that about her.

This blog post on Family Values inspired me to think about our own core values as a family and how we instill those in our kids. Part two challenged me to make the establishment of our Family Values as something special and fun for the kids.

After reading those posts, I guarantee you’ll want to add Wendy to your blog roll.

So while you head off to be encouraged and blessed, I’m going to start digging out from under a few more boxes. It appears that our possessions multiplied inside the PODS.

Good times…

Filed Under: faith, Florida, Moving, Random Tagged With: Love Covers Blog, moving, Unpacking, Wendy

Home

September 22, 2011 by Kelli

“Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do…but how much love we put in that action.” Mother Teresa

“The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” Maya Angelou

This laundry room kind of makes doing laundry sound exciting!

“Nothing can bring a real sense of security into the home except true love.” Billy Graham

Yes that's all our yard. Yes it's that big. Yes Lee is frantically saving money for a riding lawn mower. Yes he has to use the push mower for awhile.

“There’s no place like home.” Dorothy

“Like Dorothy, we all long for home. I think God places this longing in our hearts to remind us of the glory that awaits.” A wise friend

“Home interprets heaven. Home is heaven for beginners.” Charles H. Parkhurst

“One may make their house a palace of sham, or they can make it a home, a refuge.” Mark Twain

The hedges kind of make me feel like I have a secret garden. This makes me happy.

“Where thou art, that is home.” Emily Dickinson

“We’re Home.” Some Mom with a minivan and keys in her hand.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Florida, Moving Tagged With: Home, moving, Quotes on Home

Imagination, Creativity and Flying like a Bird

September 20, 2011 by Kelli

What do you think it’s like to be a bird?

I think it must be thrilling.

Just once I’d like to feel the rush of flying, of spreading the wings and gliding on the wisp of the wind. If I were to be a bird, though, I can’t decide where I’d like to rest my feathers. Would I be a mountain bird, coasting from mountain top to mountain top, the valleys and peaks soaring below in harmonious rhythm? If I were to be a mountain bird, I’d like to be one in Austria for I don’t think you will find more beautiful formations in all the world.

Hallstatt, Austria where one year ago today we stood atop this mountain and I longed for the freedom of flight.

But, I fear the frigid winter air would be too much for me…even as a mountain bird. So perhaps I would be better suited as an island bird. What must it be to glide above the crystal blue waters of the Caribbean, the warm, salty air whipping over me as I coast left to right. If I were to be an island bird, I’d like to reside over Spanish Wells, Bahamas. Because I think that God shines His Grace upon that island in extra measures.

These are things I think about.

There are some days…many days…when I wish I could unplug from it all. I dream of a secret garden where I could escape and get lost in the dreams of my mind. I would wander the twisted flowers and gnarled tree trunks with only the soft padding of my feet in the grass as company. I would lose myself in the romance of the soft setting, dreaming up far off lands where anything is possible. My imagination would no longer be dictated and diluted but would be free to run, to fly.

I would be the bird, the free spirit who never grows up, the romantic who throws her arms around her sweaty man with abandon.

These are things I think about.

This week, the kids and I are telling stories – making them up. We are digging into the recesses of our minds where imagination waits to be stirred. Robots come to life and trees dance in the breeze. The grass is purple and streams are made of chocolate. Grand adventures lie around every corner and over every bridge. Sometimes, when the oldest is telling his story, Bigfoot makes an appearance. And tornados. It’s very exciting.

When the girl tells her stories, they almost always involve a talking unicorn. It is magical.

When the youngest tells his stories they almost always include the words “booty” and “toot.” It’s hysterical.

Imagination is the best way to see one of the greatest traits of God Himself – creativity. For inside the mind’s eye, the creativity of the Creator indwells each one of us with the ability to see a little beyond that which is before us. Mathematicians see formulas that take us to the moon. Scientists see developments that allow us to see life from a different spectrum. Poets allow us to hear nature through the fluidity of their pens. Musicians discover harmonies that speak to our souls and take us beyond the present.

Imagination is where the Creator left His greatest imprint on us…His Image Bearers.

It is inside the recesses of our minds that God gave us a grand bit of Himself. After all, He had the greatest imagination of them all. And when we open kids up to this process of creativity, we let them truly come alive. The challenge is to quiet the Earth around us. And what a challenge it is.

Would that I could lose myself inside imagination every day where life is not confined to only that which I know but is instead wide open, limitless in reach. Technology has dulled my imagination, and even that of my children. But it’s always there, imagination, waiting to be tapped and used. Imagination leads us into some place new and unknown.

Where I can fly.

These are things I think about.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Homeschool, Kids, Motherhood, Random, writing Tagged With: Creativity, faith like a child, God, Homeschool, Imagination, Kids

Like welcoming an old friend

September 18, 2011 by Kelli

I got my good camera back from the shop the other day.

It was like welcoming an old friend back home again.

I immediately pulled it out of the box and ushered the kids outside for an impromptu photo shoot. They were thrilled…can’t you tell?

I’ve been in a funk these last few days. Sad. Discouraged. Frustrated at everything and nothing. Unsettled and just altogether irritable. This phase of life we’re in has left me vulnerable. Doubts start creeping in like the waters of the beach. They slide up and over my heart and then quickly retreat leaving me unsure of myself.

I doubt my ability to parent well.

I doubt my ability to pen anything worth reading.

I doubt my ability to love well.

I doubt my ability to exhibit grace.

So much doubt.

I know these are lies. I really do. I can see it and feel it and call it out by name. The frequency with which I’m having to identify and put behind me the lies, however, has begun to wear me down.

And I started to believe the doubts.

Do you know what happens when you start to believe the doubts? You compare. I’ve compared myself to everyone these past couple of weeks.

No good can come of that. I know this and I’m constantly fighting against it. Sometimes I just get battle weary.

So when I got my camera and took the time to slow down and observe life happening through the lens, I found myself suddenly encouraged.

I am not a great photographer. I know this very well.

But there is something about snapping a picture that fully encapsulates a brief moment in time.

It’s Grace. Grace. Remember how I told I’m learning about Grace? It’s a daily walk.

A sunset. A giggle. My toes buried in the cool sand.

A house awaits us. This week we will finally begin to set our stake in the sand. After two and a half months of transition, we will begin to start anew. Forward motion.

Our beach side transition is coming to a close. It has been a true blessing to be able to stay here. It hasn’t been easy…on anybody. My parents have given up their space and their peace and their privacy for two and a half months as well.

They’ve never complained. Never made us feel unwelcome or unwanted.

Grace.

Thank you to all of you for supporting us and loving us.

For loving me.

Thank you for the emails and the phone calls. I’ve had communication from perfect strangers, from friends I haven’t spoken with in many years, from friends so dear to my heart that I sometimes physically ache for their presence.

Your love and support have carried us through the moments of funk – the moments of doubt when we questioned every decision, and every ability.

Grace.

Thank you all, my friends both online and off, for showing that to me unfailingly. I am deeply, deeply grateful.

One more...just for fun. Dang, he's cute.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Florida, Life, Moving

Me them then…or is it them me now?

September 15, 2011 by Kelli

I engaged in a bit of retail therapy yesterday. After a day on the battleground called motherhood, I escaped for a few hours into the Mecca of all home furnishing stores. Did you know the power that four simple little letters can wield?

IKEA.

Say it slow. Let it roll off the tongue.

I-K-E-A.

I rolled a cart through the golden aisles, little fairies giggling and blowing pixie dust on me as I danced past. When I entered the showroom, a beam of light appeared from nowhere casting an ethereal glow across the cheap, yet terribly stylish, furnishings.

I actually think walking through there made a few of my wrinkles disappear.

I found something I loved in every room. I bought Christmas presents for Tia and resisted the urge to grab the arm of the woman in yellow beside me and shake it in excited glee. Oh the organizational wonderment to behold!

I ate Swedish meatballs in the silence of my reverie, all while visually digesting the wonderment that stood before me. It was like being at the spa, only no strangers were touching me and it didn’t require the sacrifice of my first born to afford it.

I left with a few treasures in my basket and a considerable amount of satisfaction at how much I got for the amount. I piled my treasures in the back of my (smokin’ hot) minivan and off we drive toward the glowing orange orb in the sky.

It was as beautiful an evening as one 30-something could possibly experience.

As I made my way down the road, I slowed to a stop at a red light (always a good idea). I glanced in my side mirror to see a truck in the lane to my left stopping next to the car that was directly behind me. Inside the rusted truck were two girls who didn’t look old enough to be wearing makeup, much less operating a vehicle. They motioned wildly at the older gentleman in the car next to them so he rolled down his window.

“Hey there, Grandpa,” the girl in the passenger seat yelled, smacking her gum with the force of a perturbed cow. “You’re pretty cute.” Head thrown back. *giggle, giggle, giggle*

The poor old man shook his head and rolled his window back up. The girls drove forward and pulled up alongside me. I had my window down and the radio blasted all the current Christian hits of today. I bobbed my head up and down to the beat and drummed my fingers on the side of the car. I rarely drive with the windows down these days, but last night was so perfect I couldn’t resist.

Giggle tweeny bopper looked my way and I tried to ignore.

“Hey,” she called, still giggling uncontrollably. It was the silly giggle that reveals complete and total immaturity. I turned her way and smiled.

“Hey,” I said back with a grin. “How are you guys doing tonight?”

The driver laughed. I briefly contemplated asking her to give me proof that she was indeed old enough to drive. “We are, like, so. great.” She said. Her words were emphasized with two smacks of her Hubba Bubba. Whoa…they were doing great.

“So what are you up to?” Giggly asked. And just then the light turned green and the line of cars began to slowly move. I waved as the Silly Mobile pulled forward with a squeal – was it the tires or the girls?

And then I laughed. It was the knowing laugh that completely solidifies you as a full blown grown up.

The total lack of respect for others aside, those girls reminded me a little bit of myself. I remembered the day that my best friend Lindsey and I, also both barely legal to drive, made the trek from our house to a friend’s out in the sticks of St. Louis. We had the windows down and our music blaring and we hung our heads and arms out the windows laughing uncontrollably and altogether reveling in our youth.

Life was a joyride. It was a wind in your hair, laugh at the world adventure. We were silly and crazy and completely free of the responsibility of adulthood. There weren’t children or husbands or mortgages or bills.

I can honestly say that at that moment in my life, the very last thing I wanted to spend my hard earned money on was a kitchen scrub brush and a watering can.

Home furnishings weren’t exciting. Freedom was exciting. The wind whipping by as we headed to the Lake was exciting. Life was a grand adventure just at the tip of our fingers. And as those girls peeled out, shrieking with laughter at…um, nothing…I shook my head. They are me back then.

And as I glanced at the IKEA bag glimmering in the evening sun next to me, I let out another laugh. I am them now…or not long from now. The wind still whips through my hair and my music is still loud. Only, more often than not, the music is sung by talking vegetables and my minivan is loaded with practical things like kitchen scrub brushes and watering cans…and place mats. Really, really cute place mats.

Life is still an adventure, isn’t it? I think it might even be a little more grand.

Someday those silly little girls will understand.