Dear America

It's Thursday, Y'all, and it's been a while. These two statements are not related what-so-ever. 

Y'all know we moved, right? Well, that was a Baker Actable experience (All the Floridians understand!) in which I may or may not write about. I want to and it's hilarious, but the way this blog thing has gone lately...well...ya know. I don't want to just outright lie.

To keep things super anti-boring, which I am, we had some of our favorite Floridians come spend the weekend with us 6 short days after we moved in. Cause we're rollin', and <sing Montel Jordan here or you won't be reading it right> this is how we do it.

There's also this little matter of schoolin' these crazy little world changers! Listen. My kids are 98.4% Grade Awesome and their standard of schooling is, too. They are not members of the "C's Get Degrees" Club, of which I may or may not have been the president. Somebody has taught them nonsense about "excellence" & "quality" & "diligence" reflecting character. It's spectacular, really. This school load is killing me and not even softly. (Do you sing it Roberta Flack or Lauryn Hill? I gotta know.) Plus, they are hogging my Mac. 

Anyway, I digress.

Since it's Thursday and it's been a while, I've got a few little letters for ya. They range from Shallow to Snarky to Jesus, much like your writer. Enjoy.

Dear America,
Pinterest is not for boys.
I pinned a similar folding-table contraption on Saturday morning.
The Spouse & Little Sister took a mad fast run to
Home Depot, came back & did work
on this little bad-boy before, during half-time, and between football games.
For the win.

Dear America,
Chatting with this little lady about a recent tragic event. The ever-present question "Why?" was asked. She said, "I can tell you why. I know exactly why. It's the devil. We need Jesus."
Amen, Sister. Amen.

Dear America,

Miss-chee-vee-uss is not a word.

That is all.

Dear America,
No, Honey. Just no.
The fact that the parking lot is near empty is irrelevant.

Dear America,

This is part of the 98.4% Awesome of the Big Sister. Her assignment was to brainstorm ideas for a persuasive paragraph. Now she could have gone deep about ending modern-day slavery or Creation or something, but she went to sweaty palms & sweaty breasts. She is my child. 

So, let the child lead us to the Classy Place where women no longer put phones in their bras.

<P.S. Views expressed in persuasive paragraphs by the churrin' are not necessarily the views of the parents. I have never told my churrin' that everybody should homeschool. I have, in fact, discussed the disturbance of the bra phone. Yes, I noticed the incorrect "there". I was blinded by the brilliance & I don't correct this jazz in a brainstorm. She ended up going with the "Holding hands in church". She has issues with this that I do not share, but like a good parent, I laugh at hilarity. .>

Dear America,

Lord willing, my next blog post will be sans glasses or contacts.

I am pumped like a Reebok in 1991. 

While I think my little glasses the Big Sister chose are cutesy, 

being able to see is going to be supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. 

So, here they are for the last time. If you think about it in the next few hours, 

go ahead and mention my name to Jesus.

Summer Solstice & the Swimsuit

"Summer afternoon--summer afternoon; to me those have always been 

two of the most beautiful words in the English language." --Henry James.

Yes, Mr. James. Just yes. 

{Good Summer.}
{Photo credit: My Spouse.}

Today is the first official day of Summer. The Summer Solstice. Listen. We have been on unofficial summer mode for a good 5 weeks. Judge not. We love us some summer time over here.

<Singing Kenny Chesney's "Sweet Summertime">

Summer means water: beach, pool, lake, a river, water park, water hose, watermelon- whatever. It gets hotter than a billy goat in a pepper patch in a good bit of this country, so it's a good idea to have a means of cooling off if you are going to be outside for 42 seconds.

<Singing Brad Paisley's "Water">

If you are a summer-loving person, this undoubtedly also means Swimsuit Season. 

Eek! Swimsuit Season.

Two words that cause a lot of women and dads and preachers to develop dyspepsia. 

Recently, the former White Power Ranger, Jessica Rey, gave a talk on the "Evolution of the Bikini". She is now an entrepreneur and modest swimsuit designer asking the question, "Who Says It Has To Be Itsy Bitsy?" This video has been sent to me several times this week, likely because I have mentioned on occasion how we are at war in the fight for purity for our kids and ourselves. We are. 

She is articulate and adorbies and God-honoring and worth your time.
Spot on.

Then, I've got this little article about embracing bikini season and our imperfect bodies floating around in my head, too. So, I'm struggling. And, this makes sense cause I'm a girl. A girl who is also at war with her thighs.

Do you see my plight here? Fighting thigh spread and purity and a man's prefrontal cortex!? On the same poolside?! {Thigh spread: Sit down, thighs spread. Stand up, they don't.}

Dang. So I figured I'd just give you a few of my personal momisms and girlisms and my best internal hypocrisies about the dreadful/beloved swimsuits. This little list might just give you whiplash, so brace yourself. I doubt I'll take the time to organize it, or it would never get published.

• You need to know: I'm so schizophrenic about this. My views have changed over the years and are directly related, I'm sure, to my own insecurities. Meaning, I've absolutely spoken out against the appropriateness of the bikini when really I was just bitter that my body would have been inappropriate in a bikini. Legalism and insecurity usually hold hands.

• Power Ranger Jessica is on point with that science of the prefrontal cortex. We have to know this. This isn't about men being creepers or pervs or anything other than XY chromosomes with good vision.

• If I believe that, and I believe that as a Christian and a wife and a friend, I have a responsibility in how I treat another person's brain function, this would require action on my part. (Comma much?)

• This isn't solely about a bikini to me. This is about the heart. What is the intention with the bikini? What is the intention with the skirt, the shorts, the jeans? This changes how we carry ourselves in any given situation. 

• I have seen with my own eyes a young girl conduct herself quite sensually wearing a very modest, youth minister-approved covered one-piece swimsuit. I have also seen a young lady (and been) in a bikini and conduct herself (myself) with respect. Again, it's a heart issue. I know you have similar stories.

• Switching gears: I like to get a tan. Period. This is not a secret. Of course, a two-piece bathing suit helps in this situation. That said, even in my most fit seasons, when I have worn a bikini, I have NEVER felt comfortable in it. Never. Could this be because I wouldn't feel comfortable running around in public in my underclothes? Ughhhh!!

• This is just another situation in which we need to just be intentional. Be intentional. Think about the company you'll be in, the activities you'll be doing. One piece bathing suits at the water parks, Kids. If a group of girls are going to be at the pool tanning and just laying around and all your parts are covered, I don't really have a problem with a bikini. If you are going with a coed group to play volleyball and whatnot, perhaps a tankini or one-piece would be best. Are y'all tracking with me here?

• I would love to not draw hard lines here, but let me just say there are some of your parts that ALWAYS need to be covered up. Always. For instance: 
• Breasts. All of them. The whole things. Cleavage and all, bikini or not. 
• The crack of your rear end. This low biz is deeesgusting. There is a reason you can't see your own rear end. No one else needs to see that junk either. 
• With all sensitivity and directness, let me include the "spare tire", "back cleavage", the...um... striae. Listen. I'm not judging the cellulite or the stretch marks (except my own!). If having babies means stretch marks for you, well, babies rule so Stretch, Skin, Stretch! Just have a little self respect and save the bikini for uber-private situations and rock the tankini otherwise. 
• Be sensible, People. We don't have perfect bodies, I know, but just do the best you can with what you've got. We all need to be thankful for our bodies and do the best we can with it. 

• We need to come to happy place with our bodies. Being in a place of satisfaction with our appearance doesn't mean we have to "flaunt it if you got it". At the end of the day, I don't want to be remembered for how good or bad I look in a bathing suit. I want to be remembered for the evidence of Jesus in me. 

I don't really see us all coming to agreement on every little point here, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. I'd really love to hear the male perspective.