My kids are packing pretend suitcases and loading the chair up so that they can "drive" to grandma's house.  Just watching them pretend about traveling and roadtrips makes me happy inside. 

Last weekend I may or may not have had a melt down.  May or may not have climbed into bed with my mom and mascaraed her pillows with my tears.  May or may not have mentally packed my things into boxes, sorting through the areas in town good to live in.  Scratch that, countries good to live in. 

My mama told me to calm my anxious heart.  Tasha, God is not about that.  I know this.  I just need to be told, in a firm voice, told over and over again.  I asked her, If I fail and I am not any good, you're still going to love me right?  And if I end up being a barista for the rest of my life, that's okay right?  Melt down.

Last night after a big presentation to one of my seminars, I was ecstatic.  I feel so good, so free I beamed to the student next to me.  He looked at me and said he gave me a week, my happy would rub off.  He's one of those end of the program, last semester ever, school has stolen my soul types. 

Wait, who am I kidding, I'm one of those too on my bad days.

But right now there's this funny little baby smiling at me while her hair sticks all over and her teething drool drips off her chin.  And she is the best thing.  And two more are playing in the next room.  Packing bags and planning trips and they're only three.

Come on Tasha, get with it. 

Bless their hearts, their suitcases are full of BOOKS.  I'm glad they recognize that when it comes to packing, there is a prioritized list and books are always at the top.

So here's my game plan.

I'm going to own February.  Own working thirty hours a week.  Own my full time class schedule and freakish drive to be perfect.  And I'm still going to go to my kayaking classes (in a swimming pool.  This is what Omaha has done to me) and make a fool of myself at zumba and plan late night adventures with my faithful friends. 

And then I am packing my bags for March.  Heading to the sunshine and margarita place that can only be happy.  When I get back, it'll be biking weather and birthday weather and end of the semester weather.  And then my dear, dear friend is getting married and bam!  Summer!

And oh, summer.  Do I have plans for you.  Such plans.

God is good to me, He is better than I deserve even on my non melt down days.  And even if I end up serving coffee in a no-name shop in the middle of cornfields, He'll still think I'm something great.