When crazy becomes the norm...

I was telling someone the other day about my internet BFF. (This would be someone who doesn't actually know me, but I know her through her hilarious writing, and I know we could be best friends if we knew each other. Not to be confused with Karen Kingsbury, whom I have actually met, and who has actually told me that I am her BFF. Which still counts even though she may or may not have been prompted to say that.) Her name is Ree and you can find her at her Pioneer Woman website. Anyway, I was telling someone about her and explained her something like this.... She has 4 kids, homeschools, lives on a ranch, and seems to have the craziest things happen to her. My friend responded by saying, "So, you have alot in common then?" Hmmm... I don't see anything in that list that we have in common (unless he knew about my secret desire to homeschool, which is doubtful). In answer to my completely dumbfounded look he responded, "You both seem to have really crazy things happen to you." I didn't really know what he was talking about.... but then I started to reflect a bit... and I realized that he may be onto something. In the the last few weeks, I have had a handful of "crazy" things happen, but they just seem normal to me I suppose...

Like when I raced back into town from a basketball game just as the much anticipated Christmas Parade was starting. I had to swing by the house to grab a cake we were bringing to our little parade party, and in my haste I dropped it in the entryway. Only about a quarter of it fell out, so I simply scooped up the part that was hanging out, left the rest, and ran back to the car. Didn't seem that odd to me, except for when someone questioned me later about what I did with the spilled part of the cake. "Um, I just left it there." I responded. Seemed to make sense at the time. Although coming home to the sticky mess was not much fun.

When Jakin saw one of our Haitian friends at church and yelled out, "Look! It's one of Daddy's basketball players!" I realized that we needed to address the stereotype that all black men play basketball, or just expect these embarrassing public outbursts whenever we travel outside our little town.

When the kids disobeyed while riding their bikes, I had Mikaiah in my arms, while trying to assist both crying children in their pitiful effort of walking their bikes back to our house (since they had lost the privilege to ride. Going into the street without Mommy is a no-no). A woman in her mini-van actually PULLED-OVER to ask if I needed any help managing my crazy family.

I asked Brian if he thought I was totally crazy or if it was just having kids that made our life crazy. He thought about if for a bit and said that while the kids added a bit of chaos, he thought I had pretty much been this way since we got married! And here I thought I was keeping the chaos to a dull roar...