The paper lady, I am not

Please tell me I’m not the only one out there to prepare my taxes three weeks before they’re due? And when I say “prepare” I mean get my paperwork in order, sort receipts, and tally expenses for the year… before sending it all off to my tax lady.

She is so gracious.

Every. Single. Year.

I am one of those receipt stashers – they get shoved into a drawer or a file or a shelf to be sorted “later”, which inevitably ends up being in March sometime just before they’re due.

Paperwork really is my nemisis. Filing, accounting, book-keeping. I loathe it all. LOATHE.

But grown-ups can’t really avoid that sort of thing, right?

A friend of mine suggested an ap called Expense Tracker. You take a photo of your receipt, enter in a few details, and there you go. Done. I will definitely be looking into that soon. (By the weekend – yes, I’ve given myself a deadline far before March 2013.)

We’ll see how we go. And by “we” I mean, I.

I’m not very good at “maintenance” with stuff like this. definitely an area I need to grow in.

For now, I’m just glad to have sorted through those mountains of receipts and be done with it for another year.

Here’s hoping the tax lady doesn’t need any more info.

And here’s hoping I figure out how to go digital this year. There are far too many bits of paper in my life.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Do you hate paperwork as much as I do?

 

Love,
A

p.s. I let Levi play in all the throw-away receipts after I had sorted through which ones were actually itemizable (is that a word? uh, nope.) and which ones weren’t. Apparently I had saved a lot of receipts for no good reason…

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.
Adriel also writes (using spell check!) on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos. 

Monopoly

Whenever I meet with young people who are seeking direction, I always tell them not to make big decisions while they are feeling emotional.

That principle has been in my mind a lot this week.

Not that I’m in the process of making any big decisions.

But the number of times I have thought “that’s it, I’m outta here” this week is too many to count.

I’m tired and frustrated and angry and, well, mostly tired. And truthfully? HTe sacrifice of living far away from family just feels too big. It feels too hard.

Rainy season here feels too rainy.

I’ve never liked living here. Not speaking of the base or hte people – our ministry center is amazing and my friends are wonderful (and it really is a privilege to be here – yes, I know this). The city itself is pretty average – not amazing, but not awful either. But around this time every year I begin to think what the heck are we doing here? Seriously.

Of all the places in the world we could be, why are we HERE?

I spend my days cleaning mold off of hte walls, trying to wash clothes adn toys and furniture enough so that it doesn’t grow and destroy everything, (and throwing out things that is has destroyed), and then I rotate everything under fans to dry and get things dry.

Leaving the house is a mammoth effort – getting two babies in the car in the pouring down rain – but they also get stir crazy if we don’t.

This last week has been especially challenging – Ryan away, Judah sick and NOT SLEEPING, Levi cooped up inside.

I’ve been tired nd grumpy and emotional and basically just ready to jump ship.

And then my beloved finally gets home but he, too, is sick. Now he’s hte one in bed and watching tv. (which he needs of course, so it’s totally fine.) But it doesn’t stop me fantasizing that I was the sick one so that I could just retreat to the cover of my bed for a few hours.

Oh yeah, and if you’ve ever lived without a “paycheck”, well then, dang, you know how draining that sometimes feels. (Getting a “paying” job suddenly looks incredibly attractive when those hurdles just. don’t. seem. to. budge.)

If someone handed me plane tickets tomorrow to America to move there na d never look back I would seriously consider taking them.

Only problem is that I know I’d later regret it.

As much as I don’t like it at all here I also know that this is where my family is called to be and serve right now. It might not be forever, but it is for now. So for now I just keep choosing to trust God and believe that this is somehow best.

God is good, so his plans are best. I believe that with all my heart.

But it’s days (weeks) like these that I seriously wish God would hand me a “get out of jail free” pass and let me collect $200 along the way.

If only life were as simple as monopoly.

And if only the sun would come out tomorrow.

STOP.

Q for you: When’s the last time you experienced “when it rains, it pours?”

Love,
A

Chasing cows and investing in young people

Camping was amazing.

Dirty. Wet. Beautiful.

We had an ant invasion (not awesome), ate s’mores around the campfire (awesome), got super dirty (expected), ran out of water (unexpected), and had enough gear to fill a trailer (we’ve given up on trying to fit in our car).

Teaching and ministry was incredible. Ryan and I tag-taught everyday for three hours, and then six hours on Thursday and 13 hours on Friday. (I’m totally serious.) Then we got up at 6:am and baptised about 15 or 20 young people on Saturday morning before we left to drive home.

Did I say amazing yet?

Have you ever been camping with 90ish people? In the rain? WIth babies?

Camping with babies is fun. Tricky, but fun.

Naps are hard (the tent is hot and bright), but other than that they are so adaptable.

Levi chased cows (and now finally calls them “cows” and not just “moooo”) and threw a million rocks in the creek. Judah got to ride around in the Ergo for most of hte week.

Ryan and I enjoyed doing what we do best – working as a team and investing in young people.

I didn’t have any free time really, so my writing fell by the wayside. (And I’m ok with that.) But I did manage to read two thrids of a book since I was reading while breastfeeding Judah instead of scrolling through facebook or pinterest or blogs or emails on my phone.

And now we are home. Clean hair, clean sheets, clean clothes, and plugged in again.

I’m not finished uppacking but Ryan is repacked and on the otherside of Australia.

I’ve done six loads of laundry and have four more to go. (Really wishing I had a dryer.)

And, as much as it urks me, I’m keeping the boys in disposalbles until I get the camping laundry all finished, thankyouverymuch.

Now it’s just me and the boys.

I managed baths and bedtime on my own beautifully tnight, with both kids in bed asleep by 7:25 – Levi by 7:00 and Judah by 7:25. (Yes, I’m feeling accomplished. And exhausted.)

I think it might take me a week to recover from camping. (So tired.) and then another week to recover from Ryan being gone this week.

But life is good and meaningful and full and happy.

And I’m really glad to not have ants crawling over me in my sleep anymore. But I keep imaging them and squirming anyway.

Ugh.

STOP.

Q for you: What are you glad for today?

Love,
A

p.s. Although I missed a couple of days, I did write while I was camping. I’ll try to post those entries soon, but I’m in no rush. I have my hands full, so when I get to it, I get to it. Just thought I’d let  you know.

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.
Adriel also writes on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos. 

The swearing Malaysian pastor

I had only been in Malaysia a few hours before I found myself in church.

The pastor spoke English in a thick Chinese-Malaysian accent.

I sat a few rows back from the front, straining to listen and understand what he was saying.

The message was about sin, and how it ruins lives.

He began to use an illustration about stepping in dog doo-doo and how that was like sin – messy, smelly, leaving a trace wherever it was tracked.

Except he didn’t use the word “doo-doo”… or even crap or poop. He used the word $hit. He used it over and over and over again.

He seriously used it at least twenty time.s

At first I thought no, surely that’s not what he’s saying. But then, as giggles from the rest of the non-Malaysians began to errupt from my row, I realized he was indeed using a swear word in his message.

I learned something new that day.

Apparently what is a swear word in one culture is not in another.

(Hello and welcome to Malaysia.)

Needless to say I will never, ever forget his illustration abotu sin.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Living in Australia I’m faced with this often – words that are considered rude in America aren’t here and vice-versa, but none make me chuckle like the swearing Malaysian pastor. What defines a swear word to you?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five is a blog by Adriel Booker. | Five minutes a day, unedited. | 2012 All rights reserved. | Adriel also writes on parenting and motherhood at The Mommyhood Memos. 

Becoming Australian | It’s the little things

I’ve lived overseas for most of my adult life.

At eighteen I headed off to Europe to snowboard for a couple of months, only to return over a year later.

At twenty-two I headed to Malaysia for a disicpleship school, where I would discover that my love for travel had deeper, richer meaning.

At twenty-three I went on an outreach to Nepal and India to work among the poor.

At nearly twenty-four I flew to Australia to spend ten months working with a missions organization.

At thirty-four I still live in Australia and work with that same organization.

In between I’ve travelled the globe. I think I lost count at having visited around 35ish nations for one reason or another.

I love the nations and other cultures and all that the world has to offer.

But of course I still miss home. As in Oregon home.

There are so many things about home that I miss. There are the obvious ones like friends and family and—duh—Mexican food.

But then there are the other things I miss like… my favorite brand of deoderant and face soap and moisturizer.

For over ten years I’ve been having my mom send me my face lotion (or stocking up on it when I visit).

Until last month.

Last month I finally found a moisturizer that I love just as much.

It’s nothing fancy, but I like it. (for the record the one I liked from America isn’t fancy either.)

Friends, uyou may not think this is a big deal, but let me tell you after 11+ years of having no brand of face product that I’m loyal to here, I feel like this is a significant breakthrough in my “adopting the culture” process.

Yes, I’m married to an Australian.

Yes, I have two Australian children. (Who are also American of course.)

Yes, I use the words “mate” and “no worries”.

But now I can also purchase all of my toiletries at the local grocery store.

This is a very, very good thing.

I’m feeling more Australian by the day.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Have you ever moved inter-state or overseas… or just out of your comfort zone? What did you miss most about home?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five is a blog by Adriel Booker. | Five minutes a day, unedited. | 2012 All rights reserved. | Adriel also writes on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos.