I am process. I am on to something but not entirely there yet. My process reflects my journey. It represents my past and forces me to be present in my ‘right now’ moment. My process helps me look forward to my future. It gives me hope without worry, love without envy, joy without sorrow.
I am process. At times completely stained with mistakes; things I said that I shouldn’t have spoken, actions I’ve done that I wish would be forgotten, decisions I’ve made that could never be rewritten. I am a percentage on route to wholesomeness. I’m on to something but not entirely there yet.
I am process. I wrestle with who I am and who I am becoming. Complex in nature but not at all complicated. Straightforward on my approach and practical in my execution. Unwavering in my focus, and sometimes way too ambitious. I’m on to something but not entirely there yet.
I am process a life light that is radiant but at times dim. Cautiously encouraged by my highs and disenchanted by my lows. I am process. Ascending to the high hills filled with its perilous twists and turns. I’m on to something but not entirely there yet.
What is process? Process is persistence. Process is an investment. Process is being intentional. Process is integrity. Process is time-consuming. Process is bravery. I am process. I’m on to something but not entirely there yet.
A historic moment happened in the Thompson household today. It all started with Instagram. A friend posted pictures of a gem she’s found here in Daejeon. It’s called, Yum Yum Thai; a restaurant that has food that looked so delectable it caused me to make a suggestion. “Babe, let’s have a date night.” A look of apprehension crosses my husband’s face. “It’s authentic Thai food. Just look at these pictures, the food looks so delicious.” I’m talking fast and salivating at the same time. “How about Isaiah?” (Our beloved two-month-old) My husband asked impassively. “We’ll take him with us, duh,” I responded. My husband gives in. “Yes!” I think to myself. “I’m going out to eat tonight. Authentic Thai food. I already know what I’m going to order–this is going to be great!” Mind you; it’s ten o’clock in the morning. When you’re a stay at home mom, just the thought of leaving the house excites you.
Finally, dinner time comes around. We stop by a cafe to pass the time until the restaurant opens. As we sit in the cafe, conversing about general things, joking around with Baba, (Our beloved two-month-old). Baba gives me ‘the face,’ “Oh, no,” I thought to myself. Baba has the contorted look on his face. “Not now Baba. Not here.” Shortly after the thought left my mind, Ppppppaaaabrrah! It happens. Now, my son is just like his father in the fart department. BUT, the gas my son let out wasn’t just no regular blow off. He was letting out a nice wet, extensive, doo-doo. So wet in fact that after he was done blowing off steam, a big smile came across his face. I knew right then and there ‘date night‘ was a passing dream.
The daydream of sitting at a restaurant, enjoying my husband’s company in public with our cute little baby-demolished! Shattered! Done! Not happening! Over! Baba smelled like rotten, moldy, cottage cheese; his clothes needed to be changed, and he just needed a wash badly and fast. Instead of showing discomfort, Baba was in the greatest of moods. “Let’s play mommy!” He cooed. I take him home. Daddy proceeds to the restaurant to order takeout. At least we operate great as a team! Cheers to date night at home with our now restful Baba. Historical moment at the Thompsons. Another memory added to our memorandum.
The Thompson Clan