Jenni, over at One Thing, just had a baby (and live blogged her labor. She is the original bad mutha) and wrote a couple of lovely posts from Baby Xavier to God. Seems X is not so sure about Earth Camp.
Earth Camp. I loved this when I first read this post, thinking it was a clever little twist on the mommy- authored, from-child-perspective writing. Jenny did a Christmas letter or two like that and I got such a giggle out of them. But as I read this post today and the Truth hit me like a bolt from the blue. This is Earth Camp for all of us.
Wow. Talk about a light bulb. I've been raised in the church, so I've always sort of known that there is more than this, but it's been nebulous and sort of theoretical. Somehow the notion that this is camp makes so much sense to me. It's fun, messy, a little painful sometimes, and this odd, slight sadness I sometimes feel? I'm homesick.
I need to live like this is camp and that I'll be going home some day soon. The more I extend the metaphor the cooler it gets. Does this mean my kids are like my camp projects? I better do a great job. I sure want Dad to be proud.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
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Welcome to My World
It's a crazy one. Here's the guide.
Mr. Clairol: My darling husband and love of my life. He's a mechanic, dyes his hair platinum blond and drives to work on a Vespa. I swear he isn't gay.
Drama Queen: My fourteen year old daughter who is frighteningly brilliant and gorgeous to boot. Of course, I am her mother.
Missy Hoohaw: The four year old daughter. She loves animals and roughhousing and earned her name by being a 28 year old Marine in a preschooler's body. No, she doesn't swear and drink. But she can run twenty miles in the rain and give a mighty Hoo-rah.
Big Red: Our toddler son, who is redheaded and proud of it. He's got a healthy temper and the sweetest smile this side of the Mississippi, so it evens out. I was worried about defending him from his sisters at first. Now, I worry about the girls.
The Beast: Our dog, who is a mutt, heavy on the Great Dane. He's named after a heavy metal guitarist in my husband's all time favorite band. This says it all, believe me.
This is my life. Try not to be too jealous.
Mr. Clairol: My darling husband and love of my life. He's a mechanic, dyes his hair platinum blond and drives to work on a Vespa. I swear he isn't gay.
Drama Queen: My fourteen year old daughter who is frighteningly brilliant and gorgeous to boot. Of course, I am her mother.
Missy Hoohaw: The four year old daughter. She loves animals and roughhousing and earned her name by being a 28 year old Marine in a preschooler's body. No, she doesn't swear and drink. But she can run twenty miles in the rain and give a mighty Hoo-rah.
Big Red: Our toddler son, who is redheaded and proud of it. He's got a healthy temper and the sweetest smile this side of the Mississippi, so it evens out. I was worried about defending him from his sisters at first. Now, I worry about the girls.
The Beast: Our dog, who is a mutt, heavy on the Great Dane. He's named after a heavy metal guitarist in my husband's all time favorite band. This says it all, believe me.
This is my life. Try not to be too jealous.
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4 comments:
I love that! Earth Camp! I'm going to use that phrase from now on!
I love that analogy! I'd never thought of it like that, but it sure puts things in perspective, doesn't it? That's my new way of thinking - thanks.
I love this!!!!
I absolutely love it. That is so true. Earth Camp...I can't wait to tell hubby.
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