Boyz II Men Were Right: It’s Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday

February 28, 2014 by Kelli

I’ve procrastinated writing this post. I don’t really know what to say that I haven’t already said. I’ve contemplated a million different ways to wrap up this blog that has been such a joy to write, but none of them felt right.

So I ate a little chocolate and hummed this Boyz II Men song softly as I’ve made my way through my morning.

I find it somewhat apropos that I am writing this final post with my sick daughter laying next to me on the couch. I started this blog a little over six years ago as a means to document this crazy thing called motherhood. When I wrote my first post, I had a 4 year old, a 23 month old and a newborn. I was tired, I was overwhelmed, and I thought that my life would be tantrums and poopy diapers from the rest of all time.

I never thought I’d have a career.

I never thought I’d have the opportunity to travel and develop as a writer and creator.

I assumed myself unambitious, not knowing that I was simply hard wired to thrive on inspiration.

I didn’t know all the ways that blogging would enrich my life as a mother and a wife.

Honestly, when I first started, I thought blogging sounded stupid. Write about daily life? WHO WOULD CARE TO READ THAT!

Here we are six years later. Life is still funny, and a bit surprising. I’m still doing my best to raise these children without inadvertently pushing one of them to write a scathing “Mommy Dearest” memoir. Although this morning I did drag my wrestling and crying six year old out of the house and place him firmly on the school bus much against his will, which should give him at least a chapter’s worth of material to share with the world someday.

Yay me…

It’s also a fitting symbol that my minivan, the one we purchased just a couple of months before I started this blog, is dying a slow and pitiful death. It won’t be long before she will need to be replaced by something…newer. Not better (still a minivan, yo!), but different. A fresh start to drive us both literally and figuratively into the future.

It’s like my entire life has become a symbol!

The new website will be a chance for to continue to expand and grow as a writer, as a wife and a mother, as someone who never wants to grow stagnant in life. There is so much still to see and do. So many opportunities to use the gifts and talents I’ve been loaned to bless and encourage others. Perhaps the biggest lesson this blog has taught me is that this life is so much more fun when it’s lived in service to others.

It’s not about me, and I would never want it to be.

So today will be the final post here on Minivans Are Hot. I shall drive my minivan into that goodnight, and when the sun rises I’ll find myself on a new path. Still in a minivan (hawt!), and with plenty of blog fodder to come.

Ugh…that sounds so cheesy, doesn’t it?

In an effort to wrap this up, I’ve decided to share my Top Two favorite posts from each year I’ve blogged, and I’m hoping you’ll appreciate how difficult it was to choose only two posts from each year!

See you next week in an all new space, friends! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for cheering me on this journey.

2008

Literal Art and the Worst Toy Ever Created – In which my husband made a massive Daddy faux pas.

The Same, But Different – In which my husband bludgeoned a possum to death with a crowbar.

2009

The Master Cleanse: A Review – We tried The Master Cleanse. We failed miserably.

Can I Just Go Back to Bed? – The Haircut Heard ‘Round the World.

2010

Boy and Girl and a Cricket Makes Three – When sharing my love story with Lee, I mentioned the time a voyeuristic cricket had his way with me.

The Day we Spent $127 on Soap – Because Lee and I are dorks and can’t add.

2011

The Debate of Our Generation – The one where we try REALLY HARD to convince you that minivans are hot.

Don’t Go Disrespectin’ – Don’t mess with a mom in a minivan.

2012 – (I couldn’t choose two from this year – it was my favorite blogging year)

Hope is Slow – This post from Tanzania was a life changer for me. It’s still impacting me today.

Rise of the Planet of the Blue Monkeys – An open lunch box in the Tanzanian wild is a bad idea. Bad, bad, BAD idea…

It’s Like He Doesn’t Know Me At All – The day my husband dissed Target and invoked the wrath of the internet.

2013

Mom of the Year: Not Looking Good – In which I sent Landon to school in pants caked with Nutella, and I forfeited my Mother of the Year title.

A Bridge Between Here and There – I responded to my friend Shaun’s post and invoked the dreaded ‘S’ word. *gasp*

2014

Tenting with Shamoo – We went camping. In January. That is all.

Exposing the Real Issues in Sochi – This was an important post to me. I’m so thankful it got the traffic it did.

The In-Between: A Repost

July 9, 2012 by Kelli

We are almost a year to the day since leaving St. Louis. This has been, by far, the hardest year we’ve experienced as a family. It’s been the hardest year of marriage, the hardest of parenting and simply the most uncomfortable we’ve felt. But there have been miracles along the way. They are victories that are meant only for us as a family to experience, but I can share without a shadow of a doubt that this hard, hard year has been a miracle in itself.

As we drove into St. Louis a couple of days ago and I navigated the streets so familiar to me, I realized what a blessing it is to know that my heart can be fully present in two places. St. Louis is home, but Tampa is home, too. And so is Texas! Our lives are richer and better for knowing the people we’ve met through the years in the different places we’ve lived. Perhaps that is our miracle!

This was published on July 24, 2011.

He didn’t want to try it. Fear prevented him from true joy, from enjoying to the fullest that which stood before him. The vibrant blue waters of the pool were enticing and he tasted the joy when he stepped into the water.

But fear held him back.

He couldn’t bring himself to put his face in the water. The fear of the unknown was too much and so he simply watched in longing. Every once in awhile he put his chin beneath the surface, delighted to feel the cool water – such a contrast to the blazing heat of the sun. If, by accident, water splashed into his eyes he cried and dashed for a towel, wiping it away before realizing how refreshing it could actually be.

I wondered if he would ever overcome this fear. I wondered if he would ever experience the miracle and joy that comes with taking the plunge and diving beneath the surface. I wondered if he would ever realize that conquering fear leads to freedom.

And then one day he did it. He stepped off the edge and took a leap of faith. Faith that he wouldn’t sink, but would indeed return to the surface as promised. Faith that fun awaited if he just took a chance. And do you know what happened?

Photo courtesy of my sister-in-law, Becke'

Inexplicable Joy. Freedom. And he hasn’t looked back.

We’re stuck in the in-between right now. We’re in Arkansas for a week visiting family, which simply feels like any other vacation. I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that we won’t be going back to St. Louis from here.

We head to Clearwater to stay in my parent’s condo until we either find a house or decide to rent. That, too, will feel like a familiar vacation, which in the past has always ended in us returning home. But Florida is home now. It doesn’t feel that way yet, but that’s what it is.

Mark Twain once wrote, “Change is the handmaiden Nature requires to do her miracles with.” I so hope for miracles as we make this move. What does a miracle look like? I don’t know. Maybe it will be something big and measurable. Maybe it will be something that can’t be seen but only felt…realized only upon looking backward after time has propelled us past this unsure moment.

Maybe the miracle is our willingness to take the plunge – to face our fear of change and dip our head beneath the cool waters of the unknown. We would have been fine splashing in the waters of familiarity, but then we might have missed out on the joy and freedom that comes from taking a plunge beneath the surface.

Maybe the miracle will be my children suddenly waking up each morning with smiles on their faces and nothing but kindness on their lips. Maybe the miracle will be my children sleeping past 6:30 every morning!

I can dream can’t I?

Change leaves your heart and spirit in a vulnerable place. When you’re cut off from the passivity of the familiar, suddenly a whole new world of options are opened before you. There are no schedules to keep up with, no obligations to meet. Those will likely develop quickly, of course, but in the beginning, when life has finally, mercifully, slowed down the prospects of a clean slate leave me excited. What will we finally do that we’ve been dreaming of but lacked the time? What lies in wait for our fragile hearts?

It’s terrifying and exciting and wonderful. A tightly woven ball of “What if?” What if we had the time to finally do that? What if we were closer to finally participate in this? What if we finally set aside the resources to accomplish that dream? What if we watched in grand expectation and looked for the miracles?

While the in-between has given me a touch of vertigo, unsure of which way to turn, it’s also left me excited. I love what ifs. I love to see miracles happen and for the first time in a long time, I’m finally watching for them.

“Change is the handmaiden Nature uses to do her miracles with.”

Have you seen any miracles lately? Let’s share and all join in the excitement!