The 7th Quirk

I forgot something. And it's important. Like a really big deal important.

I HATE THE BURGER KING MAN!

No, seriously. He is a creepster. And I'm not alone. Being in the advertising and marketing industry, I get professional journals and one of them recently listed the most hated company icons. Burger King Man rated right near the top. Had I voted, he would have been first because I would have voted over and over until he won.

If I see him on TV before going to sleep, I have to watch something else to take his image out of my brain. If I don't, I can imagine his huge plastic face peering into my bedroom window. I would have horrible dreams.

And the commercial where he's in bed with someone? My worst nightmare. I am not kidding. If I woke up and rolled over to see that, it would be the last face I see before I see the face of Jesus. I'd have a heart attack and go on to my reward. And trust me, I'd be right next to the throne for my trouble. Anyone who wakes up with the Burger King Man and dies from shock would have God's deep sympathy and be ushered right to the throne.

How do I know this? Jesus hates the Burger King Man too. He gives Kings a bad name.

My 6 Quirks

Only 6? I'm sure I have more! But, my daughter tagged me to post 6, so here goes:

1. I don't know why, but when I eat snacks (pretzels, peanuts, grapes, etc.), I always take an even number. Yep. Give me 2. If I get 3, I have to take another. It's weird, I know.
2. I never step on sidewalk cracks. The proverbial breaking of my mother's back is a deep-seated fear. And it applies to painted parking stripes too, btw.
3. Can't stand to leave trash in my car. If there is a cup, a wrapper, a straw cover... it goes in when I do. Period.
4. NO ONE can write in my Bible or my notebooks or on my stuff but ME! I hate for anyone else to mark on my things. My husband has horrible handwriting and I think this started when he began "booggering up" my stuff with his crummy penmanship. He now puts all of my papers in a file and scrawls my name across the file (so I have to throw it away after I clean it out, of course) because if he writes my name on my papers, I hate it. He'll use a red pen or something ugly and mark on something decent and then it's ruined. Can't take it. So, now I am ultra protective of my stuff. No one mark on it or you are toast.
5. My counters are a quirk. I wipe them down constantly. No crumbs, no stains. If you clean the kitchen and don't wipe down the counters, you didn't clean the kitchen!
6. The "no toilet paper panic" quirk: if you're ever trapped in a horrible crisis and can't find any toilet paper, call me. I have some. I'm sure of it. No matter when it is, I have extra rolls in my house. I must have been through some kind of toilet paper roll outage as a child because now I want to make sure I don't run out. I store it in every bathroom and always have a huge supply from Costco's in the closet. I'm set. I don't have to worry.

There are others - like keeping a glass of ice water nearby at all times so I never get thirsty (and it helps my diet) - but you already think I'm weird enough. If you only knew....

The empty, full, empty nest

Marriage is an interesting journey we each experience. The bookends are empty nests. The part in the middle is full of children, school work, activities, sports and family events.

There are some great things about being at the "second bookend" of life. We are right where we were when we got married - time together, no demands on our time, no race to get home at night, no bedtimes... Such a shift in our thinking. It's hard to believe that we can actually do whatever we want to now. Stay up late, skip a meal, eat any time, sleep in, do less laundry and not worry about homework deadlines. That part is wonderful.

What is also wonderful is realizing we are still best friends. We love being together, even it's just "being".

Adjusting to the Empty Nest

I wait for her car to drive up the driveway at night, but it doesn't. I listen for the door to open after she gets off work, but it doesn't. I look to see if my bed fills up with teenage girls on Friday nights, laughing and talking about the game... it doesn't.

Some days feel so quiet. Most days. The daily news of who dates whom and who called and who is coming over and who is meeting at Starbuck's doesn't come either.

I like not having to get anyone to school in the mornings, not doing as much laundry, not worrying about fixing healthy meals (or pizza!)... but I'd take all of that to have her back here with me.

She is so happy now. And I'm truly happy for her. But I miss her.

Letting Go

I'm not good at it. I never have been. I don't let go easily and I don't give up. I keep churning things over in my mind and thinking of ways not to let go. But I have to now.

My baby is going off to college... in another state. I won't know where she is, who she's with or what she's doing. I won't be there to remind her to study, remind her of appointments, remind her to get gas for her car or remind her to eat properly. She's going to make mistakes. I did. I just hope they are minor ones.

I've been praying a lot. And yet, it's still difficult to release my daughter and go to a position of total trust. I suspect kids going off to college is as much about the Lord working in the parents' lives as it is about working in the children.

And I have a lot to learn.

The Happiest Sad Day

Our family just climbed out of the pool after a day of grilling out and relaxing together. Seeing my husband play in the water with his darling grandson was such a blessing this year. Our baby boy has blessed us all and this first Father's Day for my son-in-love was wonderful to observe.

Last night, I wrote a tribute to my dad for an academic web site where his career is to be highlighted. Daddy died 22 years ago this month and I recently surprised myself by crying over his death again. I'm always amazed that the grief is still so close to the surface after all of this time. And yet, when I consider how much I loved him - and still do - it makes sense. He was very relational, witty, smart, loving and unconditional in that love. He taught me how to adore my children because he adored me. I learned so many valuable character traits from his life and I had the privilege of being a student in his university class. He was an unusually gifted teacher - always well prepared and inspirational. Whether he was teaching me a new word at the dinner table (no wonder I became a wordsmith!) or teaching me how to sing, he was diligent and patient and ever the teacher. He never let a teachable moment slip through his hands.

One thing he said to me many times - and repeated in class - was "the world is full of mediocrity and you don't need to add to it." Throughout my life, people have told me I am an over-achiever. On this Father's Day, I am thinking about the fact that I have come so far because I had a Dad who challenged me to set high standards and attain them. I've had a loving family, successful career, volunteered in ministry and gathered an array of trusted friends, coworkers and family members who have blessed my life.

I'm not mediocre, Dad. Thanks.

In a good place

The changes in our lives are sinking in. Bob is home full-time now, off for the summer if he doesn't go back to teaching halftime in the fall. Otherwise, he'll look for another job opportunity to help pay that college tuition for Ellen. He's enjoying projects in our pool house (like putting a stucco-like covering on the walls) and being productive at home. I'm working part-time and able to help contribute to the family income while spending time with Bob and my kids - and grandson! That is a wonderful experience that warms my heart. Elle is feeling better and working to make college money. She seems happy and healthy. Spiritually, we're all seeking the Lord for what's next in our journey. But we trust him.

Sometimes, I just feel good about life. Blessed. Like now.