Anybody got a coconut bra to loan out?

So the day started out as a giant stress ball. I came down stairs to find Mike on the phone, his eyebrows wrinkled, papers spread out on the counter and huffing his breath. You know that sound. The sound you get from your husband when he asks you how long you've been driving the car with the oil light on and you say, "I can't remember." That huff. But before I tell you what was wrong this time, I need to back up...

The way Mike and Darbi work is that Darbi is in charge of all of the fun, the mess and the stress, and Mike is in charge of the logic, the peace and the cleaning up of all of my messes.

On December 5, 1998 we became man and wife and have had quite a ride getting to know each other through life's ups and downs. But if there's one thing we've learned over the last 10 years it is this: WE NEED A VACATION. We want to celebrate our marriage and what we have been through and are currently going through together. We will leave the kids with the grandparents, leave our computers and phones at home and lay on a beach for 6 days somewhere warm next week and we will LOVE IT. But where?

This is where it gets interesting. We consider ourselves "medium" people. We don't buy new cars or designer clothes. We get a lot of our stuff at garage sales and off of craigslist. Mike cuts the boys hair and his own and I get my hair done at a $15 place. We buy furniture at Ikea in the rare event that we DO buy it new, the rest is hand-me-downs. I've always wanted to go to Hawaii some day, but when we decided to go on this vacation we wanted to go to a "medium" kind of place so that we could do something cool with our money later (possibly a missions trip to New Orleans this summer).

Mrs. Fun (that's me!) got on the computer and found a great package deal for Puerta Viarta, Mike said "Book It!" and we were going! Woo hoo!

Then Mr. Logic (that's Mike) woke up this morning. "Hmmm. I wonder what you need to get across the border. " He thought. His huffing? Passports. Do we have them? No. Do we need them? Yep. Can we get them? Yep. But it'll cost us. Three HUNDRED to over one THOUSAND dollars to MAYBE get them in time for the trip. Mrs. Fun started doing a lot more than huffing. Mrs. Fun needed a drink with her Cheerios.

But friends, I don't want to drag you through my whole trip to the health department, Mike on the phone and computer, Blake and me locking ourselves out of the car at his school, sob story of a day. I want to get to the part where Mike called and said, "Guess what?"
"What?"

"I just talked to the travel agent and you know how the cheapest passport would be $300 and we only MIGHT get them in time?"

"Yeah,"

"Well, it's only $267 to switch our tickets to Waikiki, and you don't need a passport in Hawaii!"

One more word friends: ALOHA!!!!!

I got my mixing bowl back...

For those of you who know me well, one thing is I'm a great procrastinator. I'd rather play legos with my boys than do dishes, or watch 5 episodes of the office instead of folding laundry. Not something I'm proud of. So as far as adoption news goes, the good news is that our packet of paperwork has been sent to the foster agency (yeah!) but the bad news is that it should have only taken a couple of weeks to complete (Note: we got the paperwork in June). Considering the crazy summer and fall we've had, I think the timing has worked out perfectly. However, in order to prepare to add a member to our family and ADD to my responsibilities, I must now re prioritize my to-dos and make sure...REALLY make sure the things that take up time in my life are worth it. We need to be available for whatever foster child God places in our home and I don't want to be busy wasting my time. Got it?

So lets talk about family pets. We get them for our children. Yeah. And they're going to feed them and take care of them every day. Uh huh. So right now in the Johnson household lives Gus the girl cat, Mickey the tree frog, 30 crickets to feed to Mickey the tree frog (yes, they need a separate container, yes they need to also be fed) and thanks to the church carnival, 6 fish: Harry, Gary, Larry, Mary, Joseph and Airport.

I'm afraid to say this because I don't know if CPS checks blogs or not, but my own children are lucky to get a decent lunch on time some days, so you can imagine how often the fish water is clear enough for them to see outside the glass. And when Aunt Kathy comes over, she just gives me "the eyebrows" and says, "Darbi!" She then takes Blake and makes it a FUN project to clean out the fish bowl and feed them and talk to them and tell them about Jesus. (I added that last part to enrich the story).

Here's the thing...In my marital vows nor in discussing the building of a family did I ever promise to clean out three cages, a litterbox and a plethora of food and water dishes (you should SEE a crickets food dish. It's the cutest little thing...) and therefore when they are stinky and cloudy it should not be a reflection on who I am as a mother. Can I hear an amen?

So tonight I put the boys to bed early. Mike is at work so I could have some alone time. I went to check on the frog real quick and he doesn't look so hot. Gary and Airport have already passed away in the last week and I JUST bought 30 crickets. This frog was NOT going to die until he ate all $3 of those little guys. So, I set my freshly made peppermint coffee down, rolled up my sleeves and prepared to clean out frog filth. For an hour and a half I cleaned the frog cage and the cricket cage and all of the tiny parts. I put Mickey in his freshly cleaned home, fed the stinking crickets their yellow goup, and then looked at the fish bowl. Brown stinky water. I can't just leave them. As I walked closer, yep, there was another soldier down...or should I say up? I think it was Airport but I can't be certain. His tattoo was on the other side. And then a voice came from nowhere and said, "flush them all, Darbi. You are downsizing priorities. The fish are unappreciated and the boys will never notice. Besides, you've kept them in your really nice Pampered Chef mixing bowl for over a year now. Don't you want that back? You deserve it." In hindsight I'm pretty sure it was the voice of the devil, but it's too late. I flushed them all. And I got my mixing bowl back. I'm afraid for the morning, or next month when Tyler says, "Where are the fish?" What will I say. I'll tell them they went to see Jesus, but I just don't know if I'll let them know I helped take them there.

Now for the real question...Will I ever use my bowl again for making delicious meals for my family? Not a chance in heck. But I got it back...and I have one less job hanging over my head.