Mother, May I? (Be REAL?!)

Can I be honest with you?

Will you offer me that permission?

Sometimes, when life has been flat weird and situations have been heavy, I need an escape from my head.

Sometimes I just need to be gut honest about the heaviness, and other times, I just need to place it at the feet of Jesus and walk away.

Walking away often feels like abandoning my worries, but then, isn’t that what He wants?

When I’m trying to abandon my doubts and poisonous thoughts, I tend to think of utter randomness.

Much like the title of this post… the children’s game (do kids even play that anymore?) came to mind as I was swirling the idea of permission in my brain. I’m often as odd as it gets.

Today, those sporadic thoughts are what you get to see.

They’re things about me you may not know or even care to know. My thought file should often come with a warning:

Enter at your own risk.

Even if you don’t love me after reading this, Jesus will, so it’s all good….

I’m a born Texan who claims Mexican (a Texican) and roots for the Oklahoma Sooners. Oops.

I would rather eat a bag of chips than anything sweet, but I could eat a tub of sugar cookie dough like nobody’s business. I’m actually eating sugar cookie dough this very minute. This particular dough is eggless, but I honestly don’t even care to eat it when it’s egg-full. Rebellious.

I’m addicted to Carmex, Bath & Body Works Menthol lipgloss, and hand & body lotion. I slather them all the day long.

I don’t eat chicken. EW. But, I will eat exactly four chicken wings from Hackett’s Hot Wings in Joplin, MO. Don’t ask why I can eat the wings and not any other chicken ever, because I don’t know. Maybe Hackett’s has a spell on me… it’s the dang hot & honey sauce… and I don’t even care.

Snuggling makes me nervous.

The smell of skunk spray makes me feel at ease. Like a child at home. No clue why… don’t judge. Now, if I had to smell it all the time, I’d gag.

I can’t swim underwater without plugging my nose. Which is probably why being in water over my head is not my thing… at all. Just no.

And while we’re on the subject, I really could care less about getting in the water at all. I adore being around water. It soothes me. The ocean is my happy place. But I’m perfectly happy with my toes in at the shore, and that’s about it.

I will listen to pretty much any type of music except country. Well, there are those few songs my teenager has talked me into tolerating.

I enjoy watching pimple-popping videos. I probably should’ve done something with dermatology, but… nah.

I like naps. Way more than I should. On Sunday afternoons, I’m practically crawling to nap time.

My parenting style is nothing like I imagined it would be prior to having kids.

My kids are nothing like I imagined they would be prior to having them. See a theme? But I’m not unhappy about it. I like the way we are… it just weirds me out a bit when I think about it too much.

As a young child, I was painfully introverted. And then I forced myself to become an extrovert. Now the older that I get, I find myself reverting back to my introverted ways. What is this? I’m a little of both (I guess an Ambivert), but I definitely relate more to the introverted side lately. Strange.

I have apocolyptic dreams at least twice a month. I have for years now. I should probably be writing fiction.

I write nonfiction but would rather read fiction.

I am obsessed with books. I had to suppress that obsession during my children’s younger years, because they would have been taken away due to neglect had I not.

I cannot watch scary movies, but I prefer to read darker, thriller books. Bronte sisters? Yes, please. Gillian Flynn is my jam. I also like quirky reads and classic novels.

While we’re on books, I dream (everyday) of owning a quirky little book shop one day. *sigh*

I am a texture eater. Much of what I like or don’t like is because of texture. Oh well.

The closest I will ever come to wanting to punch someone in the face is when I can hear them chewing. I’m clenching my jaw now at the thought of it.

I’m hot-natured. I use to freeze my husband out at night when we first got married, until he realized it was best for him to just use extra blankets. Heat and I just don’t mix well. Summer? No.

Autumn is my favorite season, but I refer to it as Fall because I know several women named Autumn and it feels weird to say it.

I don’t have a college degree. And I’m really okay with that.

I still like to play dress-up. My husband and I love to go overboard on Halloween costumes, mainly because it’s an excuse.

I drink enough water to be a fish. I always have. But after my second child, who didn’t sleep a full night until he was over a year old, and still doesn’t sleep all night (he’s 11), I became slightly addicted to Coca-Cola. With extra ice. I know it’s bad, but whatever.

I would be a nomad if I could. There are too many places I’d love to live. The irony in this is that I used to hold a grudge against my dad because he was a nomad and moved us constantly. Mostly because he was unstable. But if I could be a stable nomad, I would. I’d settle for traveling often. But that takes money that most ministry families just don’t have, ya know?!

I can be easily aggravated, but not easily offended.

I miss playing Barbie’s with my sister. She’s the only one who ever played the right way. Our way.

I pray that my mansion in heaven is surrounded by pineapples, coconut, pears, honeysuckle, barbecue, and freshly baked bread. Those are my favorite smells. Oh, and freshly cut grass. YES.

I adore vintage trailers. I adore vintage “trash.” Maybe I’m Vintage Trailer Trash?

I gag every time I brush my teeth.

My feet shrunk a size and a half after having my children. So did my boobs. Oh well.

There ya have it. A frappe of stuff about me. Some sweet, some sour, and yeah, some a tad bit weird.

I’m just me. And I’m okay with it.

Just be you.

Own it, sister.

Tell me about you. Tell a friend something about you that she doesn’t know.

Let’s give ourselves permission to just be us, and be honest about it.

God knows we’re all a little bit of a mess, and He loves us anyways. Grace, honey… grace.

I’m sure He probably shakes his head at me sometimes… maybe even lets out a chuckle… as He whispers, “That’s my Crystal Sunshine.”

Today, let’s just give ourselves permission to be who He created us to be, not who the world wants us to be.

You in?