Champagne Sundays

Did you ever have one of those days where you cry at stop signs?   Okay, so anyone that knows me knows that is a typical day for me, but the past 24 hours seem exceptional weepy.   Honestly, I need to work.   I feel like I have no identity, no challenges, and no successes unless I’m working.   Now I know what many would say, “but you’re a mom, and a great one at that,” or “you should be defined by your heart, not your work,” or “the fact that you’re holding your chin up (most of the time) through all of this is success in and of itself.”   Well … pbltttttttt. I love to work.   I’m excited by taking something and making it better.   I’m excited by brainstorming and the trial and error process.   I’m excited about being right.   I love to work. The thing is; I’m looking at a pile of mess in my house as we’re in the process of painting.   If its work I’m looking for, one would think I could simply open my eyes to the disarray befor...

Change.   It seems to be the word of the week.   Everywhere I turn there’s someone talking about change whether it be in a relationship (you know who you are ... YAY!), in a job status (congrats VR for taking it upon yourself), in waistlines (-50(+) – way to go JS), or even the piggy bank full of change that my son asked to cash in after nearly a year of savings.   Really, I feel right now like everything and everyone is transitioning around me, and I am leading the pack. Someone told me just today how proud they are of me for keeping it all together.   Personally, I don’t think I’ve done a very good job at that, on the inside, but that’s neither here nor there.   As I started to write this, thinking I was going to pour my heart out about personal loss and change for no one to read (a personal blog is a public dear diary entry, right?) I was interrupted by this month’s prayer request email.   Hello reality slap in the face.   Nice to meet you. So ...