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It’s a “holiday” weekend here. We have extra kids in and out, overnight, and just popping in. It is really fun and awesome.

I have made bacon, pancakes, and egg for breakfast. It’s cleaned up minus the few extra pancakes I will vacuum seal for when I am feeling lazy and the kids can pop them in the toaster. The dogs have been in and out a dozen times and I have asked the first round to return home to pack things up. My two morning texts have been sent.

As I filled my coffee cup for the third time already I listened to a sweet conversation.

My Daughter: Sawyer [her brother], want to play a game with witches and gremlins and trolls and wizards?

Friend: There is even a wizard hat.

Sawyer: There’s a wizard hat?

I chuckled to myself. There is even a wizard hat. Did he not realize we have had a wizard hat for years?  Was he surprised his sister and his friend would let him wear the wizard hat? Assuming they were actually going to let him… Whatever it was, I laughed.

Then it hit me.

My youngest child, the one who offered the invitation, is 8 years old and a few months.

When I was 8 years old and only a month more than her, I was welcoming my youngest sister who I affectionately called “whatchamacallit.” She was the first child from my mother’s second marriage. I did not like my new dad and I did not like this creature who came along, too. I also did not like that I was warming formula and fixing bottles and changing cloth diapers and as my mom returned to work I was also waking at night to feed the baby and change her. I was 8 years old. I did not even turn 9 until the end of the year. I was mad as hell. I should not have to be a mom to 3 other kids, much less a baby at age 8. And I knew it. I was mad mad mad mad.

Honestly, I don’t even care about all that now. I know now that the care I learned for whatchamacallit and later LD (I promise it is not as horrible as it sounds), was only preparation for the full house I have today. I know that and I am fine with that.

And I am very, very, sincerely with all of my being grateful that my 8 year olds did not have that responsibility to own. They only need to be concerned about who will wear the wizard hat. And Sawyer did.

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PS: I love my sister Michelle. I love who she is and who she has become. And I love my brother, Little David. He is kind and loving, too. I also love my Dad. He was 30 and married a woman with 3 kids and one on the way. And lots of issues. There was no way he could have known what was coming. I love Momma, too. And so no one feels slighted…my other siblings are loved as well.

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My brain is officially over capacity. There is no more RAM, no more GBs or whatever it is a computer runs out of. I only know there is not more room for another app nor another email not even another song. I am maxed out.

I am not maxed out by life. Fortunately, we have made wise choices and even our fullest days are not full, they are well-paced. We just pack “busy bags,” water bottles, snacks and carry on. It is my heart filling up my brain.

There was a post by blogger “Beautiful Life of a Traveling Wife” that struck me once. I think it was titled “I am a cutter.” not a cutter like we think of with people who harm themselves. But a cutter of people from her life. When she gets fed up, she just cuts them off. I am all for that. But that is not what my heart is full about nor my brain trying to manage. Fortunately, I like all the people in our world right now.

I am a fixer. I want to fix things. When people whine or I whine or people complain or I complain, I don’t want to listen to the whining or complaining, I want to fix it. And when people are sad, or I am sad, I want to fix it. I am a fixer.

There has been too much death this past holiday season. Well, honestly, it was probably the same amount of death as in any holiday season. But too much death close to me. See how selfish I am? And I cannot fix death. I cannot bring back to life in full and good health my friend’s husband who is a father to two beautiful children who need a father. I cannot bring back to life our sweet friend who took her own life. I cannot make her family full again with two daughters and a mother and father. I cannot fix the memories of caring for to the absolute greatest degree my friend and her 15yo son have. I cannot fix the memories my friend has of being with his daughter as she died. I cannot fix those things.

My brain has gone into the “beachball of death” as I call the spinning circle on the Mac when it is not responding. I can’t fix those things and my heart aches. No amount of texts, soup, prayer will fix those things. My heart has sent my brain into unresponsive mode. I have to reset it to safemode so I can care for my family. Thankfully, my family is mostly peaceful right now and so in it I find solace. There is nothing to fix here right now. Tweak, yes, but not fix.

I feel better already having downloaded this from my hard drive. Or since my brain is mush, is it a soft drive? I really should not attempt all these computer terms given my technotard status. Life is what it is. And even in this moment, I am grateful.

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Share your moment here and look for others at SouleMama.

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{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Share your moment here and look for others at SouleMama.

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Sunday is a day of rest that does not often seem restful. We could truly do nothing but rest today and we may only rest. Or we may plan and dream a bit, too.

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National monuments/parks/things/spaces are owned by the nation. We are the nation. Go enjoy them! You do not need permission to enjoy what is yours.

I am sitting here thinking and listening, to an Allman Bros tribute band at the Fat Frogg. On a Wednesday. Night.

Relax. I say to myself.

Trust. I say to myself.

It is. I say to myself.

I have faith. All will be well.

Be well. Be on. Heal gently.

Be quiet.

Sit down.

“This brand new Chevy with a lift kit would look a whole lot better with you up in it … Let’s go get it stuck.”

~ Florida Georgia Line

TGIF!