[Note: Friday gems this week are going to be Saturday gems. A post! On Saturday even.]
As Annie explained in our last post, we've been tossing back and forth the evolution of this little old blog. We are admittedly all over the map, and I think that's because our lives are, in many ways, pinging random-like amongst our family responsibilities, church duties, academic pursuits, interests, and, of course, Netflix. There's no neatly outlined game plan for this portion of our lives, which I find wildly exhilarating and mildly confusing. Some days I'm carpooling and planning birthday dinners and writing. Some nights I find myself in this house alone. ALONE. Can you even believe it? I know I can't.
And right now? Now I'm nesting.
In two and half weeks Sterling and I fly to France to pick up our daughter from her 18 month mission. The plane tickets were purchased some months ago, but now I'm finalizing places to stay, and a car to rent, and googe translating directions. Of course, once Jordan is with us she can be our translator, but before we actually swoop in and claim her . . . we have to rent a car, find our airbnb flat, AND find her mission office. Wish us luck.
I've imagined our reunion with her dozens of times. I think I'll be nervous, which seems ridiculous. There is absolutely nothing to be nervous about. I know I'll be excited out of my mind. Have you seen the YouTube video where the missionary tackles his mom? I'm thinking it might go something like that -- except it will be me . . . flattening Jordan. And then I have a million things to tell her and a million questions to ask. I want to hear about every adventure, and all of the people she has met, and exactly what it is like to be a Texan living in France. (For instance, 18 months without queso. It's horrifying.)
Have I mentioned we pick her up at 9 PM? And that we will be jet lagged?
Honestly, I try not to envision the reunion too much. It's a little too MUCH emotional anticipation even for me. So, I'm nesting. Jordan's childhood room has long ago been taken over by a younger sibling -- all of Jordan's college belongings hastily stashed in an unused bedroom. Two days ago I painstakingly cleaned out the room, dragging its miscellaneous contents into the gameroom. Yesterday the painter came. Now I have a clean, white slate and innumerable Justin Bieber posters with which to begin. (JK on the Biebs re-entering the room.)
I'm hoping for a grown-up, peaceful, eclectic vibe that rejuvenates my weary traveler.
Maybe something like this:
My only constraints are time (two weeks people) and money (flying to France, ahem). I'm heading to Marshall's now. Wish me luck!