Sooooooo, Big News!

Big news peeps! Collectively Chlo is now wordpress!!!!!! I will no longer be posting to blogger. But if you wanna keep in touch, feel free to stop by :

https://collectivelychlo.wordpress.com/

Enjoy this slug friend on my back porch in the meantime.

A Story.

 

Dear friends,

I have a horrifically-outrageous story to share with you. But please bear with me, as I attempt to multi-task between typing and watching Survivor. I certainly can't walk and chew gum at the same time - or in this case, stare at two different screens.

So this story takes place around 10:00 about three weeks ago.

Our family has this heavenly routine of eating ice cream in front of the tv after dinner (sometimes during). And so there we all were... April and Ryan all snuggled on the couch, and I sat in the chair beside them. I had just opened a brand new container of peanut butter explosion - something or other. And I was stoked to devour that sucker. Our show had started and I was waaaaaaayyyy into it. I got down to the very bottom of my mug and hadn't looked once at what I'd been putting in my mouth.

Not once. So I decided to look.

And there in my spoon was a dead but huge-in-my-opinion-camel-cricket.

A camel cricket.

CcCcccCCAaaAaaaaAAAMMmMeEEeELLLL CccCRrrIIiiICCkKEtttttttttt.

I could slide under a rock just thinking about it. And it's been three weeks... I have issues. And they're all wrapped around a stupid camel-cricket.

I had a bite in my mouth as I made the realization that there was a bug in my spoon. So like any normal person, I rocketed to the kitchen sink and spit my guts out. Not literally. But close.

My concerned parentals came into the kitchen attempting to grasp what on earth had just happened. I couldn't speak. Just spit.

After I deep-cleaned my tongue and explained my outburst, Ryan laughed and April "HHHHOOONNEEEEEYYYY......." 'd.

I could've cried, you guys.

But don't you start thinkin' I'm the wimpy kid or something.

I'll kick ya in both shins.

And send ya to the indians.

Kapeeeesh?

Go.

Devote your heart and soul to seeking the Lord - 1 Chronicles 22:19

Go near and far. Go boldly. Go with full abandon.

From the Day - I Am They

Better Than Spanks.

           

Nowhere Man - Paul Westerberg

I remember once when I was younger, my mom took me to Walmart. We were walking across the parking lot and there was a man in front of us wearing a leather jacket. On the back, it read "kill the poor."

Innocently, I asked my mom if we counted as "poor" people. She said no, and I believed her.

I remember when I was six years old, my mom lived in an apartment a block away from Dad's. Our floor was above the barber shop.

The apartment wasn't all that big. At one point, it was my mom and us three kids, one bedroom, one bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen. That was it. At another point, it was my mom and us three kids with one on the way, a step-dad, a dog (that we weren't suppose to have)... all in the same amount of space.

As a kid, I don't think I saw us as poor. I still don't see it that way, in all honesty. We had food in our bellies and pillows under our heads. Life was peachy.

I think about how much in and out, here and there, hello and goodbye we saw as kids. I know my parents did all they possibly could for us. Whether I knew it in the moment or not, I know it now. That's what every parent wants to do though. To give their kids the world. And rightly so. But I think one of the first things I want to teach my kids one day is that you don't have to have a lot to be happy.

People who have little usually have more than they believe. We make ourselves the measurement of all things and compare ourselves to others.

I want my kids to understand that you can't hold onto the world and follow God wholeheartedly at the same time.

Nothing in this world stays the same. It spins constantly. In and out, here and there. I want my kids to have stability. I want them to have something that remains. Something that doesn't change after a year or so.

When I think of me being a mom, I picture myself laying seven kiddos in multiple sets of bunk beds and putting on Nowhere Man and watching them drift off.

I pray that they'll wake with happy and humble hearts. Learning from their mother's mistakes. If not, I'll make 'em peel onions 'til they cry. Better than spanks.