On the Subject of TOO MANY STUFFED ANIMALS

So here's a lighthearted post, and a Christmas Break idea for my friends with kids. I love stuffed animals. My younger friends can tell you about Schnurgle, Eyelash, and Radar and their escapades. My kids can add stories about Pax, Dinglehopper, Radar's Minions, Slurpie, the owls, Dwibbles… yeah, there are a lot of stuffed animals in this house. Heck, I have a heating pack shaped like a stuffed owl! My kids like to BUY me stuffed animals, because they're awesome kids that love to get things that their mama likes. But I don't need more stuffed animals. Because reasons. And space. And downsizing. So about a year ago, I decided that I'm going to hug the stuffies at the store. That way they know they're loved and not forgotten, before they find their forever homes... but I can leave them there, rather than bringing them all home. And this works for my kids, as well. Now when I'm out, I'll detour through the toy department to hug any stuffie that looks like it needs a little love. (I DID mention that I love stuffed animals... RIGHT?!?) I was at the store a week ago getting dog food, and hugging every plush puppy when a younger boy asked what I was doing. So I told him quite honestly that I was giving the stuffies hugs so they wouldn't feel unloved! He asked if he could help, and his mom 'rounded the corner to see her son hugging stuffed animals with a crazy 40-something woman. She asked what we were doing, I explained my ENTIRE reason, and SHE started grabbing stuffed animals! There we were, strangers, in the toy aisle, sharing love with inanimate objects... so we wouldn't have to bring them home and clutter our homes further. We hugged every critter in the store, wished each other well, and left happier. With nothing added to our carts. It was a happy moment. That cost nothing, and unexpectedly brightened two other people's days as well. It is worth repeating. Possibly every time I buy dog food. And just maybe, it's worth sharing with my friends. Because reasons. Or space. Or downsizing.

Word of the Year: Stretch

(We have had months of various internet issues lately, so I'm posting a few VEEERY late posts.)

Last year's word of the year was Psalms. I read them, studied them, wrote them out, (still working on that - my hands are worse than I'd expected) listened to them, colored them, embroidered them, (arthritis again - I finished ONE piece, not 12!) drank from a mug covered in them... and by July I was wholly and utterly tired of them. It's not a flattering truth, but while I knew that many of the Psalms were more plea than praise, I hadn't actually thought through the fact that a full HALF YEAR of Psalms would be spent absorbing a plaintive, oppressed, pleading David. Did I enjoy my year in the Psalms? Yes. Did I learn and grow? Absolutely. Would I do it again? Yes, but not like this. From now on I will take my Psalms in manageable chunks. Lesson Learned. 

For this year, my new word is something that has been embedded into every aspect of my life lately. For 2018, my word is stretch. 

It's not an obvious word for someone who is constantly trying new things and lives with a genetic disorder whose calling-card IS hyper-flexibility... but yes, this year I need to STRETCH. 

In my faith I am developing and stretching new muscles. After more than 25 years of working with young children, I am being led to work with adults; younger women, and newer mothers. This is not my comfort-zone. This is not what I have "always known" and this is not where I have trained since I was 10 to work. But this is the direction I am being led, so I will become more flexible as I learn new ways to share.  

Within my family I am no longer the Amazing Mama who is needed for bandaids, bedtime snuggles, lessons in long division, or how a caterpillar becomes a butterfly. Nor am I a "retired" mama whose hatchlings have flown the nest. I am both, and I am neither. I am the mama who is helping her daughter learn to work from home as her body is falling apart faster than we can keep her together. I am the mama whose son works 5 days a week, yet can't remember to check the temperature before heading out the door in layered pants and a winter coat on a 50F day. There aren't parenting books for this, so I am breaking my own path as I stretch to fill the new needs of my children. We are all stretching to fill the gaps that his new career is leaving at home. 

And with my health - yes, I need to stretch more. Arthritis and joints that now dislocate 30-60 times each day (lately as often as 30 times in as many MINUTES!) are leaving a once hypermobile mama with increasingly less ability. I cannot eat what I have always eaten. I cannot walk as long as I want. I cannot bend to tie my own shoes, let alone lie on the floor and scratch my chin with my toes looped over the back of my head. I am not who I used to be, and the new me is in constant pain. So I will learn new ways to stretch. I will flex new muscles. I will grow in different ways. To quote a favorite television show...

Last year we completed two 5Ks. I now know that I can "run" 3.1 miles in one hour with my wheelchair. THIS year, along with another 5K, (or two) I will be completing a 10K. My goal is to "run" a 10K in two hours.

It's a stretch. But I was literally born flexible.