demon coffee

I may be responsible for single-handedly keeping Starbucks in business since January of 2009.

 I'm not sure how they are going to keep afloat when my husband is home more often and I have more than the voices in my head justifying four-dollar coffees. Who buys those expensive caramel-ball thingies? I do. Who buys a six to twelve-dollar mug every Christmas? I do! Holiday CD? (Remember those?) Yup. Kid's traveling mugs? 

Totally necessary.

 Don't think I don't feel guilty. 

I've added up the numbers a few times. 

It makes my stomach clench.
And that makes me sad.

So sad in fact, that I feel the need for a warm delightful, 

frothy, with-notes-of-smooth-cedary-caramelly-goodness, coffee. 

Tired?  Get a latte. (That one's obvious.)  

Feeling fat? Try the morning bun. 

Feeling fat? Try a, "skinny" anything. 

Feeling fat? Indulge in the 500 calorie pastries, but promise yourself that it's the last time.

 Tight on cash? Aren't we all? Skip buying gas instead. Man can live on high-calorie coffee drinks alone.

Sick of other people railing about American excess? Get a macchiato, AND a bottled water. Five pennies out of that two-dollar purchase will go to help others have clean drinking water.

 (That's like, half a dime! Or one-twentieth of a dollar!)  

On a road trip with five children? Starbucks has the cleanest bathrooms around.

 (Really. They do. Across America, their bathrooms win. Hands down.)

Been home all week with said five children and need to get out, but don't want to get them out?
Two words: drive thru.

 Need some atmosphere? You know where to go. Who else has those cute little worn-wood stools, factory lighting, rad music, and brightly colored poster art of Africa and other countries? 

Want to treat the kids? The cake pops are only $1.50 apiece, and the boxed chocolate milk is ORGANIC. 

 (For me, that's only around $17 in treats for the kids. A steal.) 

Craving humiliation? Take way too long perusing the menu, and then try confidently explaining that you want a 16- ounce specialty-whatever-drink in Starbuck's speak.
Like watching awkward interactions? Watch your husband or father order.
 It's the best.

Then, once you know how to order everything on the menu--just the way you like it; go to the nearest wall and bang your head on it for spending so much of your life flirting with the biggest, baddest, succubus in coffee culture today.

I mean the coffee kind of succubus. Not the sexy-time kind.

Nine Years

    

Nine years of doing the unexpected.

Nine years of thinking outside the box.

Nine years of watching him discover.

Nine years of worrying about his safety. (!)

 Nine years of his ridiculous camera smiles.

Nine years of me having to think outside the box to understand him.

   

Nine years of honor in being called his mom.

Nine years of adventure in experiencing my life with him.

 Nine years.

Authentic

I've had a hard time writing.

There are so many things I wanted to write about.

I knew that this time in my life was special.

So much change. 

Instead, I've spent most of my time like someone who's been spun around--twirled 'til they're sick. I want to write down my interpretations of this or that. But, I'm still waiting for the room to stop moving so I can see. Family life. Home schooling. Adoption. Military life. My understanding of God. 
They're all Changing.

I find myself writing posts and never posting them.

Sometimes I don't like what I see in myself.


I don't like that there is not one easy truth in life. 
Except for Jesus. 
Everything changes.
 Everyone changes.

Blogging can be troubling in more than one way.

Seeing how poor my writing is?  Definitely.

 Seeing the error in my thoughts, my beliefs, things that are close to my heart? 
Even worse.

That's the thrill and the drawback to writing anything that is even remotely from a guarded place in your heart. It's scary.

We grow, we change, we make mistakes, we're horrid, we're kind, we grow...we change...we make mistakes.


I have a new level of respect for the people who choose to document that process.