Sunday Morning Rush

Yesterday the creative juices were flowing so my husband and I stayed up until 1am. Definitely not the best idea we’ve ever had. Then this morning the cat decided he wanted to get into Moriah’s room at 6 am. Usually she will sleep until 7 but of course the one night we stay up late she is going to wake up early. This chain of events threw off our whole morning. We woke up early but some how we were running late. In the spirit of being efficient I got the baby bundled up as fast as I could while my husband put on his coat and shoes. I passed off the baby and he left to strap her in the car while I got my boots and coat on. Hurry, hurry, hurry!

I slipped my foot into the first boot and stopped my rush. Something didn’t feel right. I pulled my boot off and turned it upside down. A stream of Cheerios made their way out of my boot and onto the floor. “How did I get Cheerios in my boot?”

A big pet peeve for my husband is my things laying around. It drives him crazy. sometimes i remember to put them away but most of the time i don’t. My purse, the diaper bag, my coat, and specially my shoes all get left sitting where I take them off. He will never understand why I can’t take the time to put my shoes in the closet or hang up my coat. After all I just have to open the door to the closet and put them inside, but I rarely ever do this and he loves me anyway.

I proceeded to shake the boot to make sure they were all out and then I dug in the bottom of the closet to find my second boot. I found it, grabbed it and slipped it on in haste. But, it didn’t feel right. I stopped my rush again, slipped off my boot and turned it over. And what do you think fell out? Another stream of Cheerios. Okay, my husband is playing a trick on me. “Alright I get it. I left my boots out again.” I thought to myself.

I grabbed my coat and headed out the door. As I got in the car I looked at my husband and asked “did you put Cheerios in my boots?” With a chuckle he said “nope, guess I’m not the only one that noticed you didn’t put your boots away again.”

Gah! She got me. I guess Mama needs to learn to put her boots away! Maybe someday, but probably not anytime soon. 🙂

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The Old Brown Recliner- Happy Birthday Dad!

Christmas 1985. The last year that I got to put the angel on the tree because then Bek was born. :)

Christmas 1985. The last year that I got to put the angel on the tree because then Bek was born. 🙂

When I’m feeling sad, I find myself snuggled up to my “Daddy” in the old brown recliner. This is where I feel safe. I know my mother is cringing right now because I don’t think there was ever a piece of furniture she hated more than the old brown recliner. When I was young, I remember sitting on my dad’s lap in the old brown recliner. I was safe there and there was nothing that could touch me. No brothers would pull my hair or try to wrestle me to the ground. In the old brown recliner in my dad’s lap, I was safe from any chaos in my life. This is where I go when I don’t feel safe in my adult life. I go right back to sitting on my “Daddy’s” lap in the old brown recliner. I say “Daddy” in quotes because I don’t want my readers to think that I go and snuggle up on Gordy’s lap in a recliner at 30 years of age. No, I sit on God’s lap in the old brown recliner. It is my safe place to fall when chaos shows it’s ugly face.

There are so many things that I am eternally grateful for in my life: one of them is my Dad. I don’t think I’ve ever given him the true props that he deserves so I’ll do my best here. I’ve always considered myself to have a really good grasp on who God truly is: His Grace, His Hope, His Love, etc. He has always been someone I can count on and who will never abandon me. I know I can trust Him. Through my interactions I’ve learned that not every young woman has the same outlook on God as I do, and I know why.

5 months old and surrounded by my favorite things: my dad and a kitty.

5 months old and surrounded by my favorite things: my dad and a kitty.

When I was growing up, I was never told that I was ugly or worthless by my dad. At least once a day I was hugged and told that I was beautiful and could do anything I set my mind too. Even when my math homework wasn’t sinking into my brain, my dad met me with patience rather than anger. When I couldn’t remember my memory verse late Saturday night that I needed to remember for Sunday morning church, my dad sat in the old brown recliner into the night and helped me break it down to learn it. Of course, I had to do the dishes for a week because I SHOULD have memorized my verse months ago, but the punishment fit the crime and I learned self discipline. The only time my dad ever yelled at me (to my knowledge) was the day I spooked the cows and they went running the opposite direction from where he was trying to put them and then through the fence. Again, the punishment fit the crime and I had to run the furthest to get them rounded back up and help fix the fence. That day, I learned to respect others. My point being, I didn’t grow up with a push over dad that let me walk all over him. When I did something naughty or disobeyed, the punishment fit the crime. I wasn’t torn down and told that I was worthless or stupid. At the end of the day, I could always feel safe in my dad’s arms. And for this, I am eternally grateful. I was blessed to have such an amazing dad. He’s not perfect because he’s not God, he’s a man. A man who’s not afraid to admit when he’s wrong and whom I respect more and more each day because of his imperfections. I learned from him to be self disciplined and have a high sense of self worth, I also have an amazing vision of who my Savior really is. I know God is always there for me. I can lean on Him and He will never abandon me. He loves me in spite of my flaws and inability to keep cows in a pen or calculate simple math problems in my head. He loves me for me. I have strengths and I have weaknesses, but nothing will ever change that I am loved beyond my comprehension. Should I ever need a safe place to fall I can always find comfort in knowing that the old brown recliner lives on in my imagination. (Since I’m pretty sure mom burned the actual one.)

Happy Birthday to the best Dad in the whole WORLD!!! I am VERY fortunate to be your daughter!

P.S. I could have told Dad’s favorite story for his birthday but I already posted that here.

My wedding day...

My wedding day…