THROW EVERYTHING AWAY.

Have you ever played a game of match that lasted a lifetime?

Sure have.

Just did, as I rummaged through my endless piles of unmatched family socks.

What kind of mother houses all the unpaired household socks in a single container?

A mother who has moved too many times in the past few years and frantically considers throwing everything away in the middle of each move.

THROW EVERYTHING AWAY.

EVERYTHING.

Yes, you’ve caught me in the midst of another move, which means the writing gets sidelined as I try to find my breath among all other belongings.

Can you believe our eldest has lived in three different homes in his three short years?

Bless.

His parents like buy fixer uppers.

It’s a sickness, I’m certain.

There’s nothing pleasant about running around your house searching for respectable undergarments that are probably outside in the shed because: so much disorder.

No joke, I had to wear a strapless bikini top under my denim shirt to church this morning.

Sadly, that’s not even the worst.

But lining cabinets is, and I wouldn’t dare wish it on my worst enemy.

Though I’d wish it on my mother-in-law. 😋😋

(I kid. I kid. My mother-in-law is the bee’s 😘).

She did the lion’s share of lining. Give the gal a trophy. 🏆

When it comes to liners, I prefer the clear, contact paper because it’s hygenic, functional, and presents well.

It’s everything I’m not.

But contact paper is the hardest to apply and makes me say things I can’t put in writing on a Christian blog.

Plus, after I spend hours getting a piece perfectly measured to fit the drawer, I anxiously remove the backing material only to have the clear liner partially stick to my face, partially fold in half.

Good news: my stache is gone.

People think they have “real life” problems. But they’ve clearly never lined a cabinet with contact paper.

Because you really don’t know stress until you’re trying to cover a pan-sized lazy susan with your only remaining piece of liner.

It’s do or die.

So.much.pressure.

I hold my breath as I try to place a giant piece over the expansive shelf.

Dimples.

So many dimples.

Much like my hiney, the finished cabinet liners resemble a tin roof in a hail storm.

The mere thought of lining cabinets ever again makes me shudder.

I shouldn’t complain.

Moving has taught me good things too.

It’s certainly taught me about friends and family.

And ours are ah-mazing!

Our families have been incredible.

And our friends?

If you can find friends who will move you more than once, you’ve found friends for a lifetime.

Write that one down.

I think Mark Twain said that somewhere.

As for the mess that’s currently our house?

My sweet Mama tells me it will always be there.

(She encourages me to instead play with my boys.)

Talk with you soon, friend. ❤️

 

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