the world is rated R

Day 17 of 31 Days of Blogging & Doodling

“The world is rated R and no one is checking IDs.
Do not try to make it G by imagining the shadows away.
Do not try to hide your children from the world forever,
But do not pretend there is no danger. 
Train them.
Give them sharp eyes
and bellies full of laughter.
Make them dangerous...
And when they’ve grown, they will pollute the shadows.”

--N.D. Wilson


bellies full of laughter

chomp chomp chomp never -- Day 16

 
 
I bought a scale for the first time in my life
and thank God.
i was just living like some animal before,
no one to tell me how to feel
what mood to be in,
whether I'd go running or not that day
what to eat,
whether to eat,
how to feel about what i ate yesterday, and maybe even last October.
 
yeah, things are really getting on track now that i have you, Chevelle (that's my scale's name).
sometimes i wake up happy,
but you straighten that out immediately.
"sober up, Charo.  things aren't that cheerful." 
sometimes i think i might finish that new book --
but you remind me to hit the pavement instead.
those wings were delicious last night,
"yeah, enjoy 'em...all week long, Mofo."
 
Chevelle's a real bitch.
 
i weigh exactly what i weighed when i started stand up comedy;
which means if i gain even one more pound
i'll have to start doing it again.
it is my fat camp.
and i really don't have time for that.
so instead, i'll just keep reading this quote I've plastered into my journal
like a Gregorian chant:
 
 


 
 but if I get healed of that and the anxiety,
i'll just be some normal person
who's pleasant to be around.
that would suck...
for no one.

Day 14 - You can never be too warm

a lot of bloggers were supposed to blog everyday for 31 days www.write31days.com
that has not exactly happened for me.  but here's Day 14 of 31 Days 

 
 
 
I like to sit as close to a fire as possible.
Like close close.
Like singe yo' arm hairs close...or back yo' cold winter-bottom into the flames close.
All last weekend, camping in the rain, I just couldn't get warm enough.
The only thing that helps is the idea that you could get COMPLETELY warm...and then start over, you know?
Like take a hot bath, sit in a hot car, shoot the hair dryer up your sleeves before you have to go back into the cold.
And the entire time I camp, I just find myself thinking I'm so thankful that I'm not homeless. 
It's good for my character, but nothing I'd put on a brochure:
"COME TO OUR PLACE THAT WILL MAKE YOU THANKFUL YOU DON'T HAVE TO STAY AT OUR PLACE!"
But seriously and f'real, the cold is coming.
I guess we should be thankful for what we've got, and help where we can.
If you ever want to help people who have to live outside year round in Greensboro, look up Shannon or Gary Arnold or Eric Trundy on Facebook.  If you have stuff you want to give, they can get it to the right folks. 
They all help people who never get quite close enough to the fire.
 

 
 

Day 7 - Camping in the 7 Levels of Hell

Day 7 of 31 Days of Writing & Doodling

Just back from 3 days of nature...and by nature I mean rain.
Camping in the rain.
So hell, basically. 
Without the damnation and what not.
That's not funny.

(okay it's sort of funny).


I'll be honest, I can't even write about it yet.  It was that muddy and wet and irritating.  When we saw the forecast Friday, the other families backed out except for one.  And even they left after the first night. 

But my husband is a determined camper.  He says things like, "Why would we leave after ONE night when we drove so far to get here?" or, "It's just water; it always rains when you camp - doesn't mean you can't have fun."
I think he said these things; all I heard was "blblblblblblblblblbl" because the rain was hitting his lips so hard.

We also got shuttled to the top of a mountain and rode 17 miles down on bikes - didn't I mention that?  My husband likes to create an adventure-within-an-adventure...a tiered-adventure, if you will. We dragged our kids along too.  One really loud, wet screaming one.  (That's what Chris said anyway.  I wasn't with her because I ditched them ASAP on the trail.  My son said, "Do you think that's them calling us to wait up?"  I said, "I only hear thunder and shrieking lightning - pedal faster or you're grounded."

Each night around 3am my daughter woke confused, roamed around the tent muttering incoherently and tried to roll people out of their spots. 

The second night, I went outside to use the bathroom, and stumbled into a row of chairs my husband had built as a bear barricade.  Because even though a bear can rip a door off a minivan, that chair puzzle was going to deter him from our tent full of Nutter Butter crumbs.

Once I fell off my bike while it was standing still and sustained multiple abrasions.
Wasn't even riding it.
Just fell over.
Because God disciplines those He loves.

Which is why camping exists at all I suppose.

Day 5 - It's hard to be a Lyon kid

Day 5 of 31 Days of Writing & Doodling



it's hard to be a Lyon kid at swim team...just hanging out with your abacus and your parents' lame principles

flail not! Day 4

Day 4 of 31 Days of Writing & Doodling


yesterday I was in High-Flail-Mode.
when I get overwhelmed, exhausted, and hit the wall hard,
I panic, then lie on the carpet face down and rant to God,
get up, wipe the dog hairs off my face,
call my husband and rant to him,
and wait for someone to fix everything.

I'm a fairly excellent flailer.
I have super long arms, and it creates a pretty good effect.

eventually I wear myself out and a calm comes over me.
the whole family breathes a sigh of relief.
"ah, mom's out of flail-mode; back to Minecraft."

yesterday, while the creepers were creepin',
I kept mulling this over:







flail not, little bird
you are not an orphan
none of us are-
you are
kept,
watched over
loved
cared for