heath bar lizards

We might look like weirdos in twelve layers of not weather appropriate clothing, but we're cracking ourselves up anyway.

The girls think they can leave the house and wander the neighborhood whenever they want, by themselves. They think it's weird that Mom won't let them "go explore" everyone's yards, cars, porches and patios, windows, pets, and "make friends".  Lily thinks its weird that mom told her it was weird to keep asking every person we passed at WalMart today if they go to CrossPoint Church, because SHE is going to CrossPoint Church tomorrow, and might see them, if they do. (seriously, I was so embarrassed and so blessed by this girl in our lives all at the same time.)

Nora thinks she really wants to sit in a different seat that DOESN'T have a carseat in it, because being tied down is weird, and not something good mommies and daddies do to good kids. Sofie wants to know what it would take to get Granny's rice and beans at lunch time, Lily wants to do absolutely every single thing we see or pass or someone mentions. NO ONE knows what to do with no one coming at breakfast, lunch or dinner, and when the manager of the house came for charcoal and stayed for cake and chatted for an hour, well, no one thought that was weird one bit. We can talk to and feed strangers for hours, this Ayars crew.

The weirdest thing of all, hands down, is NOT "doing this, until we have to..." or not having to hurry because then _______.  "What are we doing today?" being answered with, "What would you LIKE to do today?"...THAT's weird.  It's weird that a loud sucky thing, which only Lily could name, is in the closet for sweeping the carpets instead of a broom.

It's weird that dinner doesn't take 2 hours to cook, and that I don't need to think about it at 3 with unprepared panic.  It's weird that clothes are washed and dried in under two hours, and that they can be washed at night, no laundry pins up and down required. It's weird that if we eat that bacon this morning, freely, and it DOESN'T mean no more bacon for several months, rationing it out. It's weird that washing dishes is six plates and a pan, not twelve pans and pots and bowls and peelers and measuring cups. It's weird that Matt's not on his way out the door, always, it's weird that toes are cold and that socks have a function and that you can't run through neighbors yards to climb their trees or chase the "tree rats", as Nora is calling the squirrels.

It's weird that no one has to cook the milk first, weird that there are places to go and things to do, but no places we HAVE to go or things we MUST do. It's weird that you can call a stranger and they will bring you dinner if you pay them, and that the dinner you get brought doesn't have to be the same as the dinner your sister wants. It's weird that you can stand in a store and want warm socks, trash bags, and another bag of clementines, and you can go GET them all. Right there. One store. One day. Without having to wait weeks for anyone to come bring you one of them.

It's weird that someone we've never met made us an amazing cake, that someone we don't know thought through stocking the little house with children's books and crafts and playdough and fresh fruit and cereal and stuffed animals and a play kitchen and children's movies and coffee. It's weird that ladies I don't recognize the names of sent gift cards and pointers for Panera 1/2 price bagel day and Ruby Tuesdays kid's eat free and Wal-Mart and Chick-fil-A cards, for no reason other than love for the Lord. It's weird to be receiving. It's weird to not even give back. It's weird to just...to just be loved, I guess.  It's weird to not know anyone.  It's weird to not know EVERYONE.

"It's weird that the bucket in the shower is really big and white and shiny and doesn't move, and you can swim all day," says Nora.

It's weird that on a Saturday, you can put socks on your hands and a blanket in the stroller and go hiking. Which is weird, too, because going hiking as a family was always such a normal thing for my family growing up...and yet such a rare and bizarre treat for my family now. "Where are we trying to GET?" Nora wanted to know, sure we were heading to church, except that she was still in airport pants, and everyone knows you can't go to church in pants!

Nora thought it was weird that Daddy kept yelling at the big sign of pictures that Mommy wanted a Heath Bar Blizzard, because everyone knows it's not "BLizzard"....it's LIZARD, and everyone knows Mom doesn't like those.  It's weird that the things mom and dad sometimes talk about are suddenly in cases of millions.

It was totally bizarre to the oldest two that when SO MANY people live with no electricity, not ever, and that suddenly there is a trash can, not just with a cord coming out of it plugged in...but ALSO with solar panels on top. Inside a building. Inside solar panels. On a trash can. Plugged in.

"What does this DO?" they kept asking, walking around the trash can over and over and touching every surface while everyone waiting for their flight tried not to stare. "What does electricity in a trash can DO? How do even the TRASH CANS in America have electricity and solar panels, and none of our friends have ANY? What does this DO?"

We have no idea.

It's all weird.