Inflating a pool, deflating my pride

You hear a lot of voices while you're inflating the kiddie pool in the high noon sun. Most of them are saying,

You are a moron.

Why aren't the kids helping you?

Was that a wasp?

You are still a moron.

You might even appreciate the irony for a moment, inflating the kiddie pool while standing on the surface of the burning sun, that you paid for a hot yoga class that morning, HAHAH, which is basically the same thing, HAHA, in terms of working out in a sauna and breathing hard. The only difference is that in hota yoga your outfit was cuter and at the end the instructor placed an ice cold towel on your head as she whispered, "Namaste...."

Then there's always this one voice that seems to intone not in your head but in your heart and it says,

Don't be mad about this. Don't be mad about any of this. Don't feel sorry for yourself for one second. This thing you're doing for your kids--

That voice gets interrupted for a second because you just bumped your head on the beach umbrella you were trying to drill into the ground near the sad-looking kiddie pool so that the littles will have some shade.

I know you just hit your head, says the voice, and I know how that feels. But be tenderhearted anyway.

You go in the house and tell the kids you want to share something with them. They look slightly alarmed because you are all sweaty and, "Mom, we were watching Teen Titans--"

"You guys, so I got the pool all ready for you,"

"Yeah, thanks, Mama," they pat my shoulder just to maybe tamp down the crazy I might unleash on them at any moment.

"So you know, as I was out there and I was sweating and getting injured just to do something nice for you guys, I was thinking about someone who suffered a lot doing nice things for me,

"Jesus?" they say.

"Yeah. And how I don't always say thank you. So that was just a reminder of how even Mommy needs to say thank you to Jesus more."

All I have is the Gospel. Again and again I'm fooled by pride that I'm the one making big things happen. But all I have is Jesus and the grace he floods me with, the air that he pours into my lungs each day, which I offer in trickles and spits and poorly inflated pools to the little ones who are on lease to me. All glory is his. Namaste, Peace be with you, and Amen.

As good as I imagined it: Being recognized

It was as good as I imagined it, friends. A woman came up to me at a restaurant and said, "You look familiar. What's your Twitter name?" We proceeded to confirm our social media identities. This transaction took place in front of my children, which is important inasmuch as my children, who believe their mother to be a loser who exists only to buy the Uncrustables and to embarrasses them when she has parent chaplain duty, is actually Twitter famous. We made a mom date, the Twitter lady and I. We talked about writer dork things and compared podcast notes. So I made a new friend and my kids think me slightly less of a loser mom. Win win. Go follow my new friend Bethany on the Twitter. She's fab.

***

Earlier in the day, I had entered a court room. I immediately saw a co-worker, who will remain anonymous. It felt good to recognize someone in a sea of strangers, even though none of us would be anonymous for long. We sat and watched the courtroom proceedings. Names were called. Charges were announced. "So public," my co-worker commented. Some in shackles, some in suits, some in the summer shorts attire. Whatever the uniform, we were supposedly all equals before the law. I stood before the judge of my municipality. He called my name, a name that reminds me that I'm in the South: "Miss Layyy." Miss Layyy. I squeaked, "Present" and stood in a panel of other lawbreakers. We had driven above the speed limit. We had "forgotten" to brake at a stop sign. Our charges were dismissed, however, given our good driving records. "Except for Miss Layyy. Charges will be dismissed but she must pay cost of court. She was speeding through a school zone and that's a no-no." I waited in line with the other perpetrators and handed the clerk my card. I signed my name, she who owned the card, she who did the crime and paid for it, she who wants to be recognized known, just not for a no-no.

5 positive parts about America that the citizenship swearing in ceremony will make you realize

Loverpants got to pledge allegiance to the United States of 'Merica last week, and the whole morning was just pretty keen. My hubs has his own immigration story to tell, but he and his family have endured a lot to call this place home. As for me, I just get to take the pictures and wave the star spangled banner. Here are a few things a swearing in ceremony will either highlight or reaffirm about this great nation:

1. The immigration process is still a careful one. From the biometrics to the interview to every piece of paperwork, the bureaucracy is boss. The process for letting the good guys and gals in is still pretty stinking thorough. I'm sure there are a hundred different ways to outsmart Uncle Sam, but his gates strive to be ironclad and the gatekeepers aim to be good flaggers of criminality.

2. Your new neighbors bring a ton of wealth to this country. So maybe they've been here 5, 10 years. They speak Yoruba, Farsi, Spanish. They celebrate high Hindu holidays. They braid hair and weave baskets and practice law and medicine like bosses. Maybe they are bosses. We just don't always see them gathered all at once on a happy occasion in one room. The swearing-in ceremony will remind you of the riches of language, culture, religion, and racial diversity that the wave of recent immigrants represents. Total jackpot.

3. The Daughters of the American Revolution are still a thing. They make cookies and wave flags and celebrate citizenship at swearing-in ceremonies. Civic engagement for the win.

4. Hamilton the Musical is sold out indefinitely for a reason. The convergence of hip-hop with the brilliance of Lin-Manuel Miranda and colonial petticoats is all pretty cool. But so is our history as a young nation of zealous freedom seekers. It still resonates. I have to believe this is why Judge Susan Lee got all verklempt swearing in these new citizens last week. She says it's her favorite thing to do.

5. There are now 50 more immigrants-turned-citizen in Chattanooga who will be eligible to vote in November, who likely are against building a wall along our border with Mexico, who don't believe America needs to be made great again, since the best is surely yet to come :)