irony & ironing

My 3 pair (or pairs) of jeans, now this is too funny, are a comedy of sizes. I grabbed my scissors and went to cut out the sizes, which, of course, meant that I had to SEE the sizes. Pair #1, the frump jeans and pair #3, the ultimate goal jeans, are the SAME SIZE. Hilarious, 'cause there ain't no way I can get pair #3 over my booty much less button them at this present time. Pair #2 is a size smaller than pair #1 and #3. This tells me something I think I already knew, a number on a tag in an article of clothing may label the pants but it doesn't label me. (Come on heart, start to believe that, please.)

This morning has been a nutty as ever morning around my house. It's been pouring rain for 7 hours in a row, so the backyard is basically a spongy swamp. With two dogs (one of them my giant 180 pound Mastiff) and one boy who left his tennis shoes outside, my house is now damp and doggy smelling. Super. Early morning snuggles were quickly overrun by the tasks that keep me down-to-earth instead of dwelling in my creative, how-can-I-change-the-world fog. Today there were two field trips to pack lunches for, school shirts to be located and stuffed into back packs because the kids are SURE they don't REALLY have to wear them on the field trip, a Chinese hat to hot-glue fallen beads onto (for hat day, of course), not to mention the pair of pants I ironed for my hubby before he left for work. (Poor guy wore his gimpy stretchy waist pants yesterday and I couldn't take it no mo!) Ah, reality. But someone has to live this glamorous life, right? Sometimes I wonder how the Lord can use little old me to do anything. But then he reminds me, just be me. Just do today what he has given me to do today. I can do that. Let me share a small victory from last night.

BlueBell cookies-n-cream is in my freezer right now. I heart it, as you know. But last night, in an effort to (not be "good", see, that is what my brain is saying, ice cream is Switzerland, ack!) make a healthier choice, I forewent the beloved BlueBell for a cup of decaf and about a Tablespoon of chocolate chips. I put them in a pretty little teal bowl I love and settled down for some couch time in front of the TV when girlie started calling for me. She was having a hard night, not able to sleep, sore throat, worrying about life and needing mama snuggles. My first thought was, "but my CHOCOLATE is waiting for me!!" My second thought was, "wanting chocolate probably means I need love", which I had right there clad in pjs squeezing a nubby brown bear. So I snuggled, I soothed and we both fell sound asleep. My decaf sat there in the living room all night, as did my chocolate chips. This morning they didn't look so important, but I'm so glad I had those moments with my girlie.

Ok Lord, I see pretty clearly my food=friend/comforter. I'm gonna need your help to deal with that, because I'm pretty sure that's what you want to be.

Wet dogs are now playing bite-your-face crazily in my living room and it's getting stinky. Time for some towels and air freshener.