Heart Burn...

Another keepsake for all the world to see. Except this one isn't as nauseating as the gushing notes Tie and I wrote each other.

My mom gave me this card on February 22, 1995. I was 13 and I really liked a boy.

In discussing it with her, I must have made some reference to her probably thinking it was stupid that I might like someone a lot, being that I was only 13. Her words in the card indicated that she in fact didn't think it was stupid and that she was excited for me. I marvel at how she brought herself to write such words. Excited for me? I hope I have empathy for my kids like Mom did for me. Especially when they're 13. Or a girl. Or a 13 year old girl. Daunting task.

The message inside the card says "Follow Your Heart." Cliche maybe. But it doesn't have to be cliche. If your heart is commanded by Christ, it's never wrong. If He dwells there, your should always trust what it tells you. The it that you hear from your heart is Him. Things may get lost in translation. There may be a lot of background noise. Perhaps the signal won't be strong and there will be static. But when a sponge is saturated, some water will always come out. Saturate your heart with the Word, with worship, with the Kingdom, with His purpose for you. When the sponge is squeezed, the water that comes out will be Christ coming out of you.

Thanks Mom for the card. As you can see by the pinholes (hung on numerous bulletin boards for a while now), your words were special to me. Pretty cool that they're special in an entirely new way so many years later.

These are a few of my...

I've been storing mental post-its about things that really irritate me. I had planned to blog about such. I just can't bring myself to do it. I don't want to post a laundry-list of complaints to the world that could potentially be used against me one day when I'm being nominated for Secretary of Education. I mean, just imagine how these things could be "spun": when people claim to have 20 best friends, when people "complain" (read: boast) about how many weddings they have to go to, people who say they don't have time to watch TV. Can't you just hear the White House Press Corps: "It appears that you support isolation and negative interpersonal skills in children. How could you be Education Secretary with this perspective?" Or, "You obviously feel that consistent, prolonged exposure to television is positive for children. How do you reconcile that with overwhelming research to the contrary?" I'd be up a creek without a paddle. I'd have to withdraw my name for nomination for sure. I'd have to cite "personal reasons" or something lame. So...no complaining for me. I love everyone.

In fact, on that note, I'll just blog about things that I really love/like. Why not? After all, if I'm gonna be grilled about something one day, at least I can go down fighting for things I believe in! So...

1) The e-Trade baby commercials. The one with the group of babies laughing. The kid in the middle of the back row is trying to cry I think but it looks like laughing. I just know he is. I crack up every time.

2) Scout Watkins. Our dog. He rolled his eyes at me yesterday because I was hugging hi too much. I don't care. I love him. I forget his birthday every year and I feed him too many treats and he throws up but I still love him. I clean out his eye boogers everyday and I let him lick my ice cream bowl. He's my favorite.

3) Unconditional love. Great thing really. People love you no matter what you do, ever. No matter how snappy you are or how critical or how stubborn or how indecisive. No conditions. No limits to the love. Nothing will ever be too much for your love. The best.

4) Harper Jane. Best kid ever. God thinks that He pulled a fast one on me. Bringing she and her family into my life just when I was ready to write off the whole kid thing. Ha. I sniffed Him out. She's totally convinced me. Not because my kid will be just like her (the one I'll have later on, not anytime soon). Not because she'll have as cool of a name as Harper. Only because I will regret it forever if I didn't have my own Harper.

5) My family. Ok...I'm getting cheesy. I know. Again, don't care. My family isn't perfect but honestly, we try. And I don't mean we try in a cliche way. I mean, we all love each other more than we love the points we're trying to make or the grudges we hold or the mean words we've exchanged. To me, that's closer to perfect that peaceful family meals or non-competitive family games or relaxing and worry-free family vacations.

6) William Christie. Girl's name and all. Even though he just cut off all of his hair and I can no longer pull out the few grays he has (not when they're short, too painful for him). Too much to type about why. I'll save that for another day when I feel like complaining! :)

Cliff Notes...

I finally had to break down and clean out the guest room closet today. I was having a hard time keeping the door to it closed and I was pretty sure I had lost/casually tossed aside a magazine I wanted to look at. It's also my Spring Break and I have no excuse for not being at least moderately productive.

Just after I stepped on a piece of glass (apparently I broke something before and left it...smart move), found a pack of completely unopened gum in an old purse (still chewable) and tried to lay down in the closet to measure how big it was (not big enough for me to lay down in, long ways or sideways), I found a cigar box that I recognized. See below, box on the right.



The contents of this box include numerous notes Tie and I exchanged during high school. We started dating October of 1999 (big sigh). It was my senior year and his junior year. Actually, all the notes in this box are ones that he wrote to me. I read a lot of them. I was laughing so hard that Scout actually pushed open the door to the closet to see what I thought was so funny. Man, I wish he could read!

Seriously, the notes are about the cheesiest thing you've ever seen in your life. Everyone of them. I love you blah blah blah. You're so great, blah blah blah. I'm your snuggle bug, blah blah blah. Tie was 17 when he wrote this stuff. How did he know I was great? He didn't, in fact (yet).

The box on the left above contains notes I wrote to him. After he got home, I asked him to get some stuff out of the hall closet for GoodWill. But first I had him read a couple of the notes I found. He was mortified. He said they were so douchey (I hesitate to type such crass language but, he was pretty insistent that this was the best way to describe his juvenile professions of love). Anyway, I was giving him grief and he disappeared upstairs for while and returned with the box above. These were notes that I wrote to him. There were 58. I counted. It's a wonder that I managed to graduate because most of the notes I wrote him were 2 pages long. My words were just as sappy and cheesy as his were to me, but I repeated them 2-3 times during one note. I should have tried to sell them to some country music wanna be hanging around downtown. Ick.

I don't know why Tie and I say ick/blah/douchey/sappy now when we revisit our notes. I think it's because we think about how little we knew, understood and even felt really then compared to now. We had no clue what we were doing or what we were talking about. We didn't love each other really. We were infatuated, sure. But not love. But, as I said to Tie, I wouldn't trade those notes (him to me or vice versa) for anything. Even though our feelings then were quite shallow compared to how they've grown, they were a start. We probably wouldn't love each other as deeply now if we hadn't gone through such a state of twitterpatedness (Bambi, remember?) Tie and I are much better at the making each other laugh, challenging each other, solving problems together, planning adventures together and just the living part of love. Good thing we got all that yucky stuff out of our systems!