We were laughing thinking back to our trip to New Jersey in April....I shared in a post a little bit about our time in the Newark airport. But I did not share the full story. Because it was not funny at the time. Thankfully it is now. After that sweet encounter with the girl from Morocco, and getting to be reminded of life being bigger than my own little world, I quickly jumped back into a much smaller, skewed perspective. The girl went back from her lunch break to work, and I sat there a few minutes, a very few minutes before Matt came up with some news. That our plane to KC that had been delayed several hours was actually cancelled due to weather. That we were instead, supposed to BOOK IT through security (with stroller and car seat and baby and paraphenalia) to a flight to Chicago where we were to stay overnight before getting on another plane early the next day to KC because that was our only option if we wanted to fly out of NJ for the next 5 days (all other flights being booked apparently). So just to review the situation, my peaceful rainy afternoon at the airport with my family now entailed a "Home Alone"-like run through the airport to try to catch a plane to Chicago with our 6 month old, where we did not have lodging (nor was the airline responsible to help us find any), where our luggage would not be (because it was lost in the bowels of the Newark luggage system), where I only had enough diapers and formula in the carryon to last us through the evening, and where I had not planned on going. I know that I can be a little high strung, but these events caused me to lose it. In the security line where many other people were also in similar predicaments. It caused me to cry hysterically. And to act in a childish, frustrated tantrum, mostly out of concern for how we were going to take care of Ruby in these circumstances - maybe slightly justified? I also think these hysterics won me a trip through the new-fangled x-ray machine in the security line, that I only found out later can apparently see through your clothing. It is probably a good thing I only found this out after I had passed through it, or I might have created even more of a scene, which probably would not have helped anything. (The end of the story involved 6 more hours at the airport before being booked on a flight to KC for the next day and getting to stay one extra night with my mom - everything worked out in the end). But thinking back to my tears in the security line caused Matt and I a good chuckle this week. And I told him that I had only told you about half the story that day, as I met the young woman on her lunch break - and we agreed that the other half of the story should not be forgotten either. I am very thankful to the Lord that memories are usually funnier, or gentler, or less unkind to us than the original situation. At the time - not funny. Now - funny.
I also only shared half the story of Matt being gone on the Kearney trip. Because Ruby and I did pretty well most of the weekend with Matt gone. A little lonely. A little bored. But it was Sunday night, after I had posted that I had another moment - on my way home from church, when I had decided that I had earned the right to a lovely Reese's cup concrete from Sheridan's for my hard work over the weekend. And Ruby decided that she was tired of being in her car seat and began to fuss. Strongly. To the point where it was either my daughter's happiness or my sweet tooth that were going to win out. And I believe I made the right mom decision by just going home and foregoing my concrete (which my husband took me for the next night anyway). But I was angry at that specific moment when I had to keep driving instead of heading to Sheridans. A week later, definitely not a big deal. How is it though that in the moment, feelings can be so strong, decisions can feel so enormous? I don't really like admitting the other half of my stories sometimes, especially on our blog. Our friend Jami would strongly applaud the sharing of the other half. Being indecisive, it is hard for me to decide what to share at times, what would be interesting, what we will want to remember some day, what to allow others to see of our lives. I guess what I am praying that I learn right now is something I was reading the other day, that I should behave or make decisions as I would wish I had when I am 80.... which "in the moment" is not always the easiest to do. Working with 80 year olds three days a week makes it a little easier to picture what I hope I turn out like if the Lord chooses to let me see 80. Guess I just wanted to share a little glimpse of my thoughts with you.








