Updates from Far, Far Away

OK, so maybe not THAT far away.

Things are actually going really well. I'm enjoying my visit with my family. Everything is coming together and even when stress hits I can deal with it easily. I love the Christmas season, it doesn't let much negativity penetrate it.

The services, I'm told, were nice. A true celebration of a life well lived. They're now going to put together an extended famiy tree. We solved lingering worries about land we own and took care of arranging to pay for property taxes from afar. There's a possibility an orphanage will be built on it, and we'll help.

Through the clutter of going through the treasures of another's life, there were so many discoveries. Report cards from hubby's father's high school. Pictures, lots of pictures. So many things to be thankful for, so many memories. For the first time, the hubby got to really speak with someone who knew his father as a friend, they were like brothers growing up. He got to hear stories of his father's childhood, because Gran wasn't permitted to speak of him (to ease Gramp's pain). Gran lived a full, loving life, and was selfless to the end. She truly set the example of a spiritual leader for this family.

Plans for our vacation have changed to include other family members. While I think the trip will now be more tiring, it will be wholly more satisfying. And while we have managed to stay within our budget for Christmas this year, I daresay we'll have to ship some of the presents back. I don't think they'll all fit in the car.

I got my nails done and did some girly-girl shopping today with my mom and my sister, coming home with a few small treasured items. Mom's manicurist even gave us all matching stars on our ring fingers for Christmas, and painted my daughter's nails red in the spirit of the season.

I feel contented, at rest, incredibly happy.

I love Christmas.

Impatient

I'm at a standstill. Everything's packed. The dishes are washed. Occasionally I have to feed a child, so those dishes get washed immediately. The laundry is done and put away. The house is straight, and the kids have been okay today about picking up after themselves.

But that's because I have a great threat. We won't go to Grandma's if they don't. Works every time.

Bryan's grandmother passed away Sunday morning. We're awaiting the funeral date so we can make plans. There's still the possibility that it will be tomorrow, which is why everything's packed and ready to go. We're literally living out of our suitcases in our own home, waiting to hear whether or not we need to drive to Arkansas tonight.

I'm stressed, but I know it will pass. I'm making my list and checking it twice, but it has nothing to do with who's been naughty or nice. It's got the words "socks" and "adjust thermostat" on it. Most things are crossed off, but some can't be done until we know.

So, say a prayer for my sanity as I try to keep up with the house until we know when our two-week trip will begin.

Thank God for bereavement leave, since otherwise we would be in quite a pickle.

Glutton for Punishment

For some reason Houston has an inability to succumb to winter. Today I wore a light jacket over a sleeveless shirt and had to take the jacket off so I wouldn't suffocate in my car.

I'm winding down. I've got my toffee cappuccino in my Power of Pink cup, having just e-mailed out the conference call notes on our current promotions for my team members. I just get all riled up about this company. I love what I do. I wish everyone had the ability to make the amount of money I can make while loving what they do as much as I do. But I think I might have talked too fast for anyone to understand what I was saying. Such is the nature of excitement, eh?

The gym membership is going well. I had my first torture session with a personal trainer on Monday. Even though I was miserable with a cold, he still wasn't nice to me. My arms and shoulders are still sore. Nevertheless, knowing I wouldn't be able to make it in today, I went to the gym last night after putting the kids to bed. I worked my abs and legs. Now, at least, the pain is evenly spread over the entire body. I went again yesterday, even though I'm still feeling relatively cruddy, because I felt better after working out on Monday. I felt better, again, after working out last night. I think I'm catching on to this whole "health" thing. Ha.

I really liked my personal trainer. His name is Kennis, and he's probably too young for me to be comfortable dating my younger sister, if that gives you any idea of his age. But he's personable and encouraging. I swear I've never been high-fived by one person so many times in my life. Plus, he gives me direction where I have none. He knows what to do, and I'm as lost as tofu in gumbo in that gym, lovely as it is.

My husband remarked that there was something terribly wrong. He should have been the last person I ever told I was comfortable with my personal trainer, not the first. Boy, do I have a lot to learn about gyms. ;)

For now, personal training is not fiscally possible. I've decided that if we can get three credit cards paid off we can get them back. Sounds like yet another goal in this princess's world. As if that's anything new!!!






Please say a prayer for us. We're in a sticky situation with relatives who are very ill, and our lack of sick leave and/or vacation days. Timing is everything, and this time we need it to work in our favor so we can be where we are needed. Thanks in advance.

Happy trails to you, until we meet again...

Impulse

I think I've lost my marbles. Gone temporarily insane. I don't know why I did it. It just felt right at the time. Now I'm thinking... Oh, crap. I've gotta tell my husband when he gets home.

So what's this horrible deed I've done? I've joined a gym. Yup, I sold out. I've been wanting to join one for a long time, but it's never been a priority. I went today to deliver a catalog to a customer that works at the new gym near our house, and ended up touring the gym. They gave me a deal that's half the price of the other gyms I've looked at. That's probably because they're new and they're trying to get people in the door. Nevertheless, it's a locked-in unbeatable rate with free child care and free classes. Tai Chi, yoga, pilates, kickboxing, latin dancing, here I come!

Yes, that's right. I said free child care. Quit getting off the subject.

I know you're jealous. It was part of the deal to get me to sign. And it was worth it. I have my first appointment with a personal trainer on Monday. They promised me that if I showed up three times a week I'd reach my target body by March.

Yay!

So... for all you jealous people, I can give each of you a free one-week pass to try it out. And maybe, since I'm also their new Mary Kay rep, I can get you the same deal I got.

Oh, yeah. That's another bonus. Since they're so new, they said I could put a flier in every new guest welcome packet, leave cleanser samples by the sinks, and set up a table on Customer Appreciation Days.

Bonus.

Now comes the hard part. Convincing my anti-gym husband not only that it was a good idea, but that he wants to work out with me. You see, I envisioned this great idea of him meeting me there after work, since it's on his way home. It would still be before much of the after-work crowd since he gets off work at 4:00. We can toss the kiddos in child care and go work out together. Cardio, weights, the sauna. Then pool laps followed by the hot tub. Yeah, baby.

So... pray that he's open to the idea. He's been squeamish about working out in front of others. I'm ready to deal with it if he is. We have until Monday to get our money back, but I'm thinking even if he refuses I'll still go.

'Cause who can beat free child care???

Tough

It just seems like there is a bit of melancholy everywhere. Today at church I spoke with quite a few people. Everyone's going through something, including us. There were some people whose problems made my problems look so insignificant. I guess it's a healthy dose of perspective, but it still breaks my heart that people I know and love are going through these kinds of things.

So many things being lost... relatives, unborn children, houses... Things that make you want to jump out and help, but there is absolutely nothing you can do. It leaves you feeling so helpless and incompetent.

Which led to thoughts about finances. Ours in particular, but in general as well. I consider myself to be quite good at manipulating the checkbook to work to our best advantage, but the things I don't have control over keep catching up to us. Another way I'm left feeling helpless. Sometimes I have to just throw up my hands and say... "Well, I don't know what we're going to do." We're a not-so-proud member of the paycheck-to-paycheck club. What worries me is... what happens if something happens?

This is not just a concern for myself, but for my entire generation and the next. We're products of the immediate gratification generation. Don't end up where your parents are, start there. Don't wait on that big-screen, buy it now, with no interest for twleve months! What they don't tell you is that if you don't pay it off they backcharge you interest and then you end up paying twice (or more) what you would have if you'd have just paid it off.

Our entire nation is on a paycheck-to-paycheck basis. How scary is that? Especially with all the layoffs going on! What happens if something happens? A layoff, then immediate bankruptcy because you drown in the debt of things you didn't need but couldn't wait for. It terrifies me what would happen if Bryan lost his job.

So we're inching our way out of this hole. And the devil doesn't like it. He likes for us to live in fear, to not have a safety net. To suffer for years upon years for mistakes we made that we are trying to correct. Because every time we move forward a step, something happens and we're forced back two. I'm sad to say that we didn't meet any of our financial goals this year. Instead, we're worse off now than we were in January. Not because we were silly, but because of CRAP that kept happening. Total and utter crap. Senseless, uncontrollable crap, and that's the worst kind.

What can be done? Nothing, really. Keep trudging along. I know our perserverance will be rewarded. I know our sound financial decisions will be rewarded. I know if we can keep putting one foot in front of the other, eventually we will be free.

And if you want to send a Christmas gift, make it a payment to our credit cards. ;)

It smelled like Christmas today.

Outside the air was cold and crisp. No matter where you went, there was the slight smell of woodsmoke in the air. It's the kind of weather that puts a smile on your face, knowing the best holiday of the entire year is on it's way. It's the kind of weather that makes you want to cuddle up on the couch with a blanket and a good book, hot cocoa in one hand and ginger cookies in the other. It's the kind of weather that made me add graham crackers, Hershey bars, and marshmallows to my shopping list for tomorrow.

My kids have never had s'mores. This is a grievous error that soon will be rectified.

I'm anxious for the holidays. I'm looking forward to spending real quality time with my extended family. I'm looking forward to the sights and smells that have comforted me since my childhood. Grandma's house always smelled like something baking. I'm almost in tears with the joy and the anticipation.

Iz will probably remember this Christmas. She's old enough. I hope it brings her as much happiness later on as my memories have brought me. Even if those memories decided to leave out the names of my fourth cousins (and other obscure family members).

It's weird, after you've seen someone every Christmas your entire life, and you don't remember their name. You're past the point of no return. I can't ask. How embarrassing would that be?

"Ummm... hello... I know I've seen you every year since I was born, but I was wondering if you could tell me your name just one more time?"

Nope. Besides, I remember all the important ones.

The only thing missing will be Grandpa. It will be my first Christmas there without him. The other part of the "anxious for the holidays" is whether or not the villagers will revolt when reality hits. In my head, I know he's gone. In my heart, I can't envision Christmas without him. Especially since I don't carry a knife, so I guess Dad will have to take over cutting the strings on the hay bales, so the kids can feed the cows. I don't have any idea who is going to call them to dinner, though.

*sigh*

Not Michael Keaton!

Thus the tone was set for my Thanksgiving break. It all came about because of arguing who played the voice of Chick Hicks in Cars... which led to an IMDB search... which led to my future brother-in-law trouncing all of us with his superior wisdom. Love ya, Scott!

Yes, yes, yes. It was a time for family traditions, one of which was one bird and ten desserts... much to the detriment of my diet. Luckily, even the pumpkin cheesecake couldn't thwart my new metabolism. I didn't gain anything during Thanksgiving. I know you're jealous.

The Thanksgiving menu consisted of the usual bird, stuffing, green beans, baked beans, southwest corn, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, and homemade rolls. Dessert consisted of pumpkin pie, pecan bourbon pie, pumpkin bread (one with chocolate chips and one without), pumpkin cheesecake, pineapple upside down cake, cherry pie, and ice cream.

If I never see another pumpkin again I think I'd be okay.

Or at least for another 361 days.

We played Uno and watched movies. Uno is a family tradition. We laughed until we cried. I'm not even sure what we were laughing about, but it was probably made funnier by the White Zinfandel. Or the Blue Moon with orange. Yep, wine and girly beers are a tradition, too, at least for the women. This is not insinuating that Blue Moon is a girly beer, but it definitely becomes so with an orange slice dangling off the side like a daquiri. Manly beers are a tradition for the men, so we also had some Fat Tire and Shiner Hefeweizen floating around.

Oh, and Gramma taught the kids how to roll down the hill into the ditch and play in leaves. I still don't know whether or not she knows she was being caught on family-cam.

All in all, good times.

Back in the Saddle Again

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Only going to spend a moment here, gotta do the Thanksgiving Betty Crocker thing and make some pumpkin bread. And pack for our trip.

It's a holiday, and you thought I'd be staying home? Ppppppffffff..... Haahaa!!!

Also gotta find someone to watch the pups last minute, since the person I had to watch them forgot about it and is now going out of town. Not her fault, I should have been better about reminding her so I would've known not-so-last-minute. :(

Busy busy busy and no rest for the weary. Just pray my kids cooperate today so I will still have hair to celebrate Thanksgiving with.

Spamalicious

They're just so funny I had to share!

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Translation, please????

But for the grace of God, there go I...

I've been thinking about this a lot. It's really brought a lot of humility to (what I didn't think was) my judgemental attitude. I didn't even notice I was doing it. But then again, 99% of us don't. A woman in my group today again brought this up, and another commented that you shouldn't ever say, "My (child, husband, self, whatever) would never do that..." for the simple reason that you'll end up learning your lesson the hard way by experiencing it.

It's how I've learned to detect those who don't have children. Those who have never had a child that (we're pretty sure) has ADD. Those who have never had a Houdini child. Those who have never had a child cry all night until you give in and let them sleep in your bed. Those who have never thought that leaving the store when your child starts acting up is giving them exactly what they want.

And they say such hurtful things, even when they don't know you. After my Houdini child escaped from our locked back yard and ran into the street, trailed by my son and our three dogs, one person who helped me round them all up actually said to me, "You need to watch your children." And gave me a horrible You're a bad mom look.

That man either never has had children, never had a child that wasn't stumped by his locking mechanisms, or it's been so long that he has had that child that he has forgotten what it was like. Like forgetting pregnancy pain. I always told myself I'd never forget that pain. But I did.

That is just one example of the quick and the judgmental in this world. How was he supposed to know that I'd gone through four different locks in the past month trying to outwit her? He would've known if he'd asked. If he'd had a little...

Empathy.

Which brings us to our next point. When you see someone you'd like to judge, please put yourself in their shoes. Imagine what that poor, tired mom's day has been like before you judge her on bribing her children to be good for five minutes so she can finish getting groceries. Could that man that snapped at you have lost his job today?

Patience. Empathy. Love. All in a perfect world.


P.S. Thanks for a lovely weekend, Mom. I loved getting to spend some time with you, Dad, and Sis. I'll be praying for your Board notice this week. Love you.

No Children

Today has been... weird. I woke up and got ready for our playgroup at church, only to call my friend who is the coordinator to find out that it was cancelled. So I decided to go to an estate sale instead.

Backtrack to last night... we had another family over for dinner, and we were just cleaning up when I got a phone call that my friend Tom was outside our house. He wanted to make sure we were up before he knocked. Tom has a talent for showing up unannounced, but we love him so we always let him in. He crashed here last night. He's in town for his girlfriend's birthday, so we get to see her tonight, too, even just for a little bit.

So Tom's at my house and I take the kids to the estate sale. I unload the kids, think to myself that it's a cute house, and wonder about the guitar I saw advertised in the estate sale's flier. Since the entire block is full of cars, I'm hoping that being there only an hour after it opens means that I got there in time enough to grab it before someone else did.

I walk the block to the entrance and see several items I might be interested in. I'm counting my money in my head, seeing how much I can spend, since I already see several items I'm interested in. Then, a big glaring neon green sign on the front door.

NO Children/NO Ninas

I stop in my tracks, so much that my daughter runs into my legs. They can't be serious. What kind of people are they???

Instantly two scenarios come to mind:
1. They think all kids are noisy, unruly brats that break everything they touch, wreak havoc and cause trouble for no reason. They think I'm going to wait until they are tired and cranky and then bring them to their estate sale to break things and annoy their other customers. These are usually people that didn't have kids, and for good reason.
2. They honestly think something bad about ME, the mom of the rejected chidren. I'm going to refuse to take responsibility for my kids, I'm going to let them jump on the furniture. I'm going to come in, let them rearrange their preorganized affair and then leave without buying anything.

Both scenarios are obviously insulting. Still, I wanted that guitar. So I tried to stop a lady that was obviously working the estate sale. I stayed outside so that I could be respectful of their wishes. I called to her three times, and she completely ignored me. So I decided they didn't need my money.

I felt horribly for my kids. They're good kids. I actually took them at a time when they weren't hungry or tired or needing attention. They were looking forward to it. My four-year-old daughter kept asking me why we couldn't go in. I didn't know what to tell her.

On the way home I was struck by how much construction was taking place near my house. New roads, new buildings, everything is under construction. And I had a happy thought: property value increase. Yay.

I consoled myself and my daughter (baby boy was taking a nap) with some baby carrots and hummus dip and a huge glass of water. It was exactly what I was craving. Yum!

Note to self: When did I become such a health freak?????

Harvest

Don't have much time to post, but I wanted to give a quick update. Tonight was the Harvest Party at our church. I'll take any excuse to dress up! I went as a fairy. Awaiting a good pic of me in the wings, I'll post it when I get it. See the ears???




Here's the kids. Mine are the pink-haired punk rocker and Superman. Boy, they were cute!



I did my friend Jessica's makeup, too, and I was very proud of it, so here's a pic of it:




Please pray for safe travel for my husband, who will be going to his Aunt Sandy's funeral on Tuesday. Thankfully it's only a day trip, but the whole situation is stressful as it was an aunt he was close to. Pray for peace for the whole family.

Will post more later, I'm going to go spend some quality time with my pillow, watching the back of my eyelids.

My husband would be so proud!

You Are Beer!

You don't need to get totally wasted when you hit the bars. More of a social drinker, you just like to have fun with your friends. And as long as the beer keeps flowing, you're a happy camper. But don't mix things up: "Beer Before Liquor, Never Been Sicker!"

What Alcoholic Drink Are You?

Apparently I'm bored.

Call me Dr. Jen

Guess I don't need to go for my Bachelors after all!!!

You Have Your PhD in Men

You understand men almost better than anyone. You accept that guys are very different, and you read signals well. Work what you know about men, and your relationships will be blissful.

How Well Do You Understand Men?

I Heart Texas

I love living in Texas. I may have been born in Louisiana, but I feel like I came home when I came to Texas. I guess living so close to it all my life, it rubbed off on me.

One of the many things I love is that Texas knows how to run an event. Today we went to a charity event that my husband's company was participating in. In true Texas style, it was a barbeque cookoff. Yep, leave it to Texas to make a charity event out of brisket!

We bought a ticket, which almost all of the proceeds go to the charity (it was a scholarship). There were over 40 tents set up with people barbequeing chicken, ribs, brisket, and countless other things. I have to give a shout out to my Shreveport and New Iberia homies that made gumbo... yum! It was a truly fun time Texas-style, with an entire arena for family activities. There was bingo, face painting, airwalks (four of them!), caricature artists, balloon artists, and a kiddie rodeo. Yes, that's right. The kids got to ride bucking sheep and chase greased pigs. I am not joking. We didn't get to let Princess do it because it was full when we went to register. I'm sure she would've loved it. Notes for next year: get there early to register for kiddie rodeo and get entered as a judge for the ribs contest.

From what I hear, the set-up party is more fun than the actual event...

There's just something about the atmosphere at a Texas event like this that just makes me content and happy. I always have a good time. Reminds me of the Red River Revel (which I loved back in Louisiana), only with barbeque instead of mudbugs. I get that nostalgia anyway with the annual church crawfish boil, though.

So, I'm home. I smell like dirt and barbeque. And loving every minute.

*Sniffle Sniffle*

So apparently we're all sick. I'm not so bad as the others in my family... but then again, I don't have time to be sick and my body respects that. I'm just dealing with a little throat tickle issue and a little more snot than I'm used to, which means a little snot. I don't tend to be a very snotty person. And I'm going to try to put the word "snot" as many times in this paragraph as I can. Snot snot snot!

Have you ever really looked at the word snot? It's a pretty funny-looking word.

Made ya look!

And I think the cold meds are getting to me.

Anyway, there was a birthday party yesterday. The Princess turned four, and in all of our royal splendidness, Her Royal Cuteness celebrated with a party that would make anyone who doesn't love pink have a seizure. But hey, it's what she asked for. She asked for a pink cake and a pink bear, and by golly we gave her both!

My husband took her to the mall yesterday morning and designed a Build-A-Bear with her for her birthday. Her name is Aura (Princess named her). It's pink. She picked out pink panties for it, too. And the frilliest wedding dress they had.

Hey, now... she comes by it honestly, you know.

While they were doing that, I decorated and set up for the party. Yay, me. I made a checkerboard cake with pink icing and a flower mound top. I used up 2 whole rolls of crap paper... sorry, crepe paper (can I say "crap" on here?)... to turn our house into a pink and purple castle. The kids decorated crowns, made wands, had their faces painted, and ate champagne grapes and pinwheels. And cake and ice cream, of course.

Today our insurance lady came by to look at our car. I got in a fender-bender a few days ago. Not a big deal at all, we were in a parking lot and weren't going over 1 mph. It was *technically* my fault (even though it was hers, it's just legally mine). The insurance lady is the nicest one I've ever dealt with, so I gave her a present, an old MK gift-with-purchase. She ended up buying $40, taking a catalog, and promising to give me at least 10 leads before she left. I'm not sure how it happened, I think the response is out of habit now. But hey, that's okay with me.

This afternoon we tried to go see Superman in the dollar theater. Yeah, that didn't work. I ended up leaving with the kids, madder than a hornet, and coming home to furiously clean. That's what I do when I'm mad. I clean. I think this is the first time in months I've seen my kitchen counter.

So, the kids are in bed. I still haven't seen Superman. My back and neck are stiff from days of sleeping wrong. I'm irritated still. I'm bored and not tired. I have too much to do and not enough motivation. But I'll give a million dollars to the first person to teleport here and give me a massage before I go to bed.

But my shopping list is made for tomorrow. And my to-do list. My checkbook is balanced and all the bills paid for this pay period. I've read the materials for my government assignment and done two loads of laundry.

And my house is VERY clean.

The Difference Between Boys and Girls

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have figured it out!

No, really...

My husband is an excellent father. He loves to play with his children, and encourages them to use their imagination. He's also a boy.

When my daughter came to him with a dish towel, he did the "daddy thing" and tied it with a bread tie around her neck. She took it off and said, "No, daddy, not like that!" He was flabbergasted. What in the world was she talking about?

I leaned over and supplied the answer...

Honey, she doesn't want a superhero cape. She wants an apron.

And the crowd roars with laughter.

Image Consulting 101

My daughter has decided to form her own line of fashionable clothing. It's sure to take Paris by storm, especially since these trends make so much more sense than the ones I'm seeing lately! So, here's some advice from our on-trend image consultant:

1. Don't be afraid to be bold and express yourself. If you feel that a piece fits better somewhere else, don't let the fashion snobs tell you what to do with it!!! Freedom is the key to happiness!

2. If you're going to go for the wet look, it probably would be best to refrain from using a sprinkler as a means to achieve it.

3. Headwear is essential to complete the look. Think outside the box!

Yes, that IS a pair of pantyhose she put on her head and wrapped around her neck like a scarf.

Pics of the Kids

Back in late June I promised SP that I would upload a picture of the sandcastle Bundt pan we got from Williams-Sonoma. Sorry it's taken so long, my intermediate-user mentality overrode my common sense, and today I figured out that I have a USB media thingie (yes, that's the technical term) that I can put my memory stick in to upload my pictures until I find the sync cable for my camera. This is why I normally leave the computer stuff up to my husband.

For my family that reads this blog, here's some recent pictures of the kids for you as well.

Ma Vie en Rose

"When life hands you lemons..."

"Make apple juice?"

-Sky High

God's delay is not God's denial. That is the phrase that I took away from our Holiday Workshop. Thank you, Cheryl Banks. For so long I had been upset at myself. Was I not good enough? Was I doing it wrong? Was I never going to make it?

Thanks for setting me straight.

Our sermon this past weekend was about talents. We reviewed Matthew 25 and the parable of the talents. Our preacher then gave a sermon on discovering our talents and using them as God has designed us to use them for His glory. It was a gentle slap in the face. A loving wake-up call. I cried, even though I fought hard not to. For so long I've ignored my God-given talent. Or maybe before now I just never saw it for what it was.

Bert (our pastor) suggested that if we didn't know what our talent was, we should consider what others have told us we're good at. I thought about it, and came up with lots of things people have said I am good at doing. But they all had one thing in common: I was a teacher.

I've had people tell me I was a great music teacher. That I loved my students and cared about them enough to praise them to success, work with them and encourage them and turn out honor band players.

I've had people tell me I should be a marriage counselor. Why? Because I love instructing people on what I've learned about Biblical marriage. And what is a marriage counselor but a marital instructor?

I have been told that I am an excellent financial counselor. I really enjoy getting to know my students, helping them realize God's plan for their life and their money, and instructing them on getting out of debt, making good investments, saving, and teaching their children.

It gives me no greater pleasure than to hear my daughter tell me the phonetic sound of letters as she's learning to read. I taught her that.

In my Mary Kay business, I instruct women on how to apply makeup, take care of their skin (not just on their face, but on their whole body), have better self-esteem, and sometimes even build successful businesses of their own. I have been told that I'm good at it.

What all of these things have in common is that in each instance, I was a teacher. And I loved each thing with every fiber of my being. They are some of my most precious memories. I wouldn't mind doing any one of them as a lifetime career.

So, I recognize my talent as a teacher and willingly embrace it, for in the moments I have taught have I been the happiest. I assume it's a genetic thing. For now, I am going to teach my way into Directorship in God's time (not mine), and then it will financially free up some time for me to maybe eventually take on a few music students again. Here's to making apple juice from lemons...

:)

Leaving today with a smile in my pocket and a contented heart.

Today I feel overwhelmed. Too much to do. Our sermon in church today was about time, and how to invest time. It really convicted me, but I'm not sure where to go from here. Plan your time. Too many questions. Too many decisions.

There have been moments over the past week that I've thought, I should blog about that. Of course, I forget it a few seconds later. So I've had interesting things to say it but no memory to remember to post it. Terribly sorry.

So I'm sitting here on a Sunday afternoon with nothing interesting to say, a child that won't take a nap, too little sleep, another child who will probably destroy the house like she did yesterday, and a to-do list that's too long to remember, or else I'd write it down. I hope I don't forget what I need to be doing because there's so much I need to be doing and end up doing nothing. Believe it or not, that's happened before.

And my heart is heavy because of upcoming finances. Hospital bills, credit card bills. Bills, bills, bills. Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever dig ourselves out of this hole. Just when I start seeing the light at the end of the tunnel something blows up and distracts me from it. Then it takes forever to catch a flicker of that light again.

Sorry it's such a depressing post. I guess I didn't realize what a ho-hum mood I'm in. I'll come back and post more when I'm a little more peppy.

Scrubs Season III

He's home!

He's feeling much better. They're now saying it may not have been meningitis, since you can't actually detect viral meningitis. They're saying it may have been an infection that was intensified and irritated by his liver condition, which produced meningitis-like symptoms in his spinal area (there WAS an infection in his spinal fluid).

Of course, he's being a guy and frequently overdoes things. He is still tired and weak, but if he stays home he feels like he could conquer the world. Like today he was feeling good, and insisted on going grocery shopping with us. Halfway through the trip he was lightheaded and excessively tired. He's hard-headed enough to think he can recover from something like that so quickly.

He had some tests run today and will consult with a doctor tomorrow about what happened. Thanks for all your prayers, they mean so much!!!

Scrubs Season II

Update: It's viral!!!

:)

He'll be coming home tomorrow to get over it. Thank God he can work from home.

Scrubs Season I

For all that haven't heard, my husband is in the hospital with spinal meningitis. Before anyone freaks out...

HE IS OKAY.

We caught it early and he's being treated. Thank you, God, for the awesome doctor on the clinic emergency line who hit the nail on the head without hesitation (we love you Dr. Lincoln!), and to all my family and friends who have called and out of concern and offered help. I'd be lost without you guys.

The most frustrating thing to me about this whole ordeal is the waiting. I am not a patient person by nature, and I think that if they did the test last night we should have answers by now. Until then, I'm stuck, quarantined in my house, out of fear that me and/or the kids might have it too and we could spread it. I would be the most likely culprit, but all I've been feeling lately is tired.

And because we are forced to wait, I had to visit my husband tonight fully scrubbed as a precaution. My poor socialite, affectionate husband is in isolation. When I went to see him I had to wear a gown, gloves, and a mask, and I wasn't allowed to hug him, cuddle him, or kiss him. Funny how he's getting all this treatment and the one thing that would make him feel better, affection, is what he can't have right now. So I did what I could, I held his hand through my glove and sat as close as I could, on the edge of the bed. I brought him dinner and Cheesecake Factory cheesecake for dessert, and cleaned up the room a little bit. I also brought him his laptop and some movies, and tomorrow I'll bring him stuff so he can get cleaned up. Hopefully he'll only be in there a few more days.

From what I've heard, though, the recovery process takes a long time. He'll be weak for a while. I'm not sure how this will affect his work. Or anything else, for that matter.

The kids know something's wrong and have been heathens since yesterday morning. Thanks, Mom, for coming to help, I really do need it and appreciate it.

So, if you'd like something to do, please just pray for our family. For my husband's quick recovery, clear tests, a quick homecoming. For my children to calm down for a little bit, and for my sanity. Thanks a lot, you guys are the best.

Please be praying. There is a very very rough week ahead.

Book Tag!

People seem to love tagging me. So, here we go again!

----
1) One book that changed your life:
The Bible

2) One book you've read more than once:
The Princess by Lori Wick

3) One book you'd want on a desert island:
How To Get Off A Desert Island

4) One book that made you laugh:
The entire Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich

5) One book that made you cry:
Chicken Soup for the Christian Soul

6) One book that you wish had been written
Every Question You've Ever Had - Answered!

7) One book you wish hadn't been written:
My Life by Bill Clinton

8) One book you're currently reading: (sorry, couldn't choose one)
Getting Rid of Ritalin: How Neurofeedback Can Successfully Treat ADD without Drugs by Robert Will and Eduardo Castro
Miracles Happen by Mary Kay Ash
The Purpose-Driven Life by Rick Warren

9) One book you've been meaning to read:
More than a Pink Cadillac by Jim Underwood

10) Tag five others:
Potor, Saltwater Princess, Miss Cartier, sekondstory, Kiki

Being a Mom is Work

Yeah... like having a full-time job for each child you have. You can't get anything done. Even the most tame of activities somehow goes awry.

I needed to return a book today. Not a hard job, mind you, but one I dread. As a mom, I hate piddly little errands. The ones where you're in and out of the store. Know those? Yeah, if you're a mom, you hate them too.

I had a whole string of them today. Yuck. Go to the bank. Drive through the car wash. Drop a check off at the church. Mail some bills. Return a book.

These are only hard tasks if you have two toddlers with you. I had to drop the bills in the mail because yesterday my mail didn't come until after 6:00 PM (usually it at least comes before 5) because apparently they were taking the afternoon off for a belated celebration of the Ides of August. On the Ides of August I didn't get my mail at all. But that wasn't their OFFICE party, I guess. You know how the postal system celebrates holidays...

I digress.

I walked into the bookstore with one toddler asleep on my shoulder and the other walking. She immediately walked over and started rearranging books on the shelf. I informed her that she had exactly three seconds to get near my side... or else... because we're not rearranging books unless someone is going to pay us to do it. She chose not to listen. Oh great. I called to her again, which woke up the toddler who until then had been deep asleep on my shoulder for all of 3 minutes. The man at the counter asks me if I have a return, so I go over to him, and he tells me that if I just want to return it and not exchange it that I need to go see the other lady, who has a line of 2 people waiting. So what is that guy's job then?

I finally just have to go collect my daughter from the bookshelf. I finally get waited on, and my precious darling sweetheart baby boy decides to use that moment and scream like a banshee. He then proceeds to throw a Class A temper tantrum, something reminiscent of the Exorcist. I smile apologetically at the woman, who is waiting for me to dig my credit card out of my purse while trying not to drop the writhing child, who inbetween the gutteral sounds and banshee cries is screaming "Down! Down!" Meanwhile my daughter has started rearranging books again.

I make some sort of sarcastic comment about why I usually save these errands until Daddy takes the kids, because it saves so much hair. She doesn't even laugh. I bet she doesn't have kids. Anyone with kids would've found the situation comical. I didn't want to waste my time trying to explain it to her.

Now my son is angelically sleeping, but my daughter has come in four times in the three mintues I've been posting this in order to tell me that she wants something to eat and drink, even though we just finished lunch. Time to get back to the grind, I guess.



Latest Izzy-isms:
"Boys have short hair. Girls don't have short hair. But I have short hair and grandma has short hair and that's okay. Girls have earrings and diamonds and makeup like me."

"Mommy, that lady has a cute baby. Can we have her?"

"Are your eyes tired?"

"Daddy, I want a baby brother again, but I want a girl one."

Artista Barista

Speaking of coffee, this is just insane. And cool. I think Starbucks should implement this into their procedure.

Check out this type of art.

Coffee Yuppie

I have been known to say that a Starbucks coffee is not worth drinking unless it has at least four names. This is what I ordered tonight. Try this one on for size:

Grande Nonfat 2-Splenda Upside Down Caramel Machiatto

Mmmmmmmm.

Unfortunately, the barista said she'd heard worse. I'll have to work on that one.

So what's your favorite?

To Satisfy Your Insatiable Morbid Curiousity

The resounding and unanimous vote was to tell you guys about my horrible night. Weirdos.

Well, Seminar was filled with inspiration, in both the big things and the small. In some cases, the small things made up my mind for the future more than the big things. This is one of the small things.

On our first night at Seminar, we had a formal Christine Peterson Area dinner. My director left to get there early, and I had 15 minutes to get ready and get down there. I had all my underthings on, and felt a little like I was strapped in for a space flight with all the shapewear I had on. I slid the beautiful royal blue gown over my head, and put on my jewelry.

Immediately the brooch on my dress fell off. Dangit!!!

I tried every which way to get that thing back on. I probably would have impressed even MacGyver. But it was no use, it wouldn't go back on. So I left, and turned around halfway down the hall, remembering I was going to a Mary Kay formal dinner and I hadn't put on mascara, blush, or fixed my hair. I also couldn't walk in my shoes with hose on. After taking care of that, I walked out again with makeup and different shoes, only to turn around and go back again for my invitation, since I needed it to get in.

I got downstairs and saw a group of women in formals heading toward a dinner hall. I asked them if this was the Christine Peterson Area Dinner, and they told me yes. They were announcing the consultants as we walked in, like in the old movies. I handed the announcer my card and was announced in. I sat at the special DIQ table and began talking to a girl there. I took pictures of her with her friend, a lady I'd sat with on the bus to the convention center earlier in the day. I mentioned I hadn't seen my Director, or any of the other Directors from my group either, and she replied that they should have been in the line. They weren't. After asking many, many questions, I figured out that this was the Briddle future area dinner, not the Christine Peterson area, even though the girls weren't wrong, since Bridget Briddle is a current National-in-Qualification in the Christine Peterson Area and not quite a National yet. I had to leave, walk back through the line, get my card back, and go find the other Christine Peterson Area Dinner. How humiliating. I had just been introduced with great pomp and circumstance to the wrong Area. I'm sure my face was as red as a lobster.

I finally found the real dinner area, and as I walked up the steps to the entrance to the ballroom, I heard a RIIIIIP. Oh, for crying out loud. My dress had just ripped. It was on the bottom, so I prayed that no one would notice. Dang these 3-inch spike heels!!!

At this point I was more than a little annoyed, but I got in line to enter the room because I was already 15 minutes late. Then some girls came up and jumped in line in front of me. Being on my best MK behavior, I just let it go, even though there were 5 of them that cut, not just one. By this time I was in a bad mood.

Finally I got in and the evening started. It went pretty well after that, except for my Director dragging me (literally) up on the stage with all the other Directors and dance. Wow. I was looking around, making sure no one noticed me onstage, a DIQ pretending to be a Director. Of course, I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb, but no one said anything, even if they did notice.

When I got back to the room, a roommate asked how my dress had gotten ripped. The whole story poured forth, and when I finished, she said (and to get the full effect, this is a current Director that makes what I'd like to be making) "Girl, you're going to be a great Director because I couldn't even tell anything was wrong. You picked up and kept going like a pro."

And that made everything better.

Immersion

Wow. Seminar was probably the best thing I have ever done for my business, besides starting it.

I had such an excellent time. It was so hard to stay and keep listening because I wanted to run home and work my butt off immediately. Yesterday is not soon enough for me to be a Director.

There is way too much to describe and all of it's great. I'll list a few things and y'all can pick 2 or 3 for me to tell you about. If you want to know it all you'll have to call or e-mail and ask. Too many pics to post and they're all good.

I'm home with a new list of goals, new inspiration, new energy.

AND CHRISTINE PETERSON, MY NATIONAL, IS #1!!!!! Woo-hoo!!!

Possible topics:
1. DIQ/Area Day
2. Formal Dinner in honor of the Christine Peterson Area
3. We're #1! We're #1!!! (The Announcement)
4. My Horrible Night - And Why I'll Be a Director
5. DIQ Training
6. Awards Night

So, let me know what you'd like to hear about. Can't wait!!!

As If I Weren't Confused Enough

Today was both horrible and wonderful. Good and bad. Bueno y mal. It was kinda freaky. My life is a friggin' rollercoaster!

Kids woke up a lot last night, and woke up extra early this morning. BAD.
Tried to exercise. GOOD.
My lunges kept getting interrupted by bad knees and children clinging to them. BAD.
Took a shower. GOOD.
Had both kids in with me at the same time. BAD.
Ran some errands. GOOD.
During an interview the kids started acting up. BAD.
She signed up anyway. GOOD.
Came home to a broken toilet that flooded my office. BAD.
Had only a few minutes to clean it up before I had to leave for a doc's appointment. BAD.
My Director came over to watch the kids. GOOD.
Went to my appointment. I get to be his guinea pig for varicose vein removal for free*. GOOD.
The vein's too big to be zapped by a laser and go away. BAD.
They laser-remove the hair under my arms instead. GOOD.
It feels like someone popping you with a rubber band that's on fire, smells like burning hair, and makes the area swell for 1-6 days. BAD.
But I won't have to shave anymore. GOOD.
It already doesn't hurt anymore. GOOD.
Ate eggs benedict for dinner. GOOD.
It turned out horribly**. BAD.
Had half a Hershey Special Dark for dessert. GOOD.
Don't have the motivation to call my leads. BAD.
I may watch a romance and go to bed early. GOOD.

* A friend's doctor is opening a new clinic and was looking for patients to come test machines while the sales guys are there. The appointment was free, and I could choose varicose vein removal, laser hair removal, spider vein removal, or rosacea removal free the first treatment. Because I'm so light-complected and have such sensitive skin and thin hair, I will only need one more treatment for the hair to be gone completely and for good. No more shaving!!!

** Never try to cook eggs benedict while supervising children. Eggs benedict is an art. It all has to come together at once. The muffins have to be warm and crispy, the potatoes hot, the ham right off the stove, the eggs softly poached and hot right out of the poacher, the hollandaise creamy, and the cheese thinly shredded. My eggs benedict tonight was none of the above.
While trying to keep my children from killing themselves, each other, or my DVD collection, I managed to overcook the eggs, undertoast the muffins, separate the hollandaise because I wasn't stirring often enough, the potatoes were slightly undercooked, and the cheese was too thickly grated to melt on top. The separated hollandaise meant the butter sopped up into the muffin and made it squishy. Eww and sheesh. I'm never attempting that alone again. It usually comes out right when hubby and I work as a team. But then again, when we cook it for dinner the kids are usually already in bed. Apparently I'm an eggs benedict snob. But you already knew that.


P.S. Have you ever really looked at the word "good"? It's a funny word. While I was highlighting I actually had to stop and make sure that I was spelling the darn word right. Maybe I should've gone German. Gut. Gut. Schlecht. Gut.

To clear up any questions, here is a picture of what we ordered.


Yes, a scooter, not a motorcycle. It gets twice the gas mileage and is half the price and this particular model can hold its own on the trek to work. This is, after all, all about saving money, right? Transportation that gets 80 mpg certainly helps. Eventually we will be proud owners of a real live motorcycle, but not now and not for a while. Sorry for any confusion. And we got it in blue, not red.

Boys Will Be Boys

My husband ordered a great new tool for saving us money on gasoline. Part of ordering this is having to buy a jacket, helmet, and gloves. If you need further explanation, please e-mail me.

While they had to order the rest, he got to take his jacket and gloves home. My, my, my, how he loves those things. They are the epitome of cool. He put them on and paraded around the house for an hour, punching walls and running into things, exclaiming about how he couldn't feel any of it. When I asked him to stop, he said he wasn't hurting himself. I think that explaining that I wasn't worried about him getting hurt, but him hurting the house made it worse. He would chase the kids around, playing "Power Daddy." The kids would giggle and run, and my son would imitate his superhero posture.

The jacket looks roughly like this: (Thank you joerocket.com)


When he's dressed in it, he looks like something from the future. Or off of that movie, Spy Kids 3-D: Game Over. And he thoroughly enjoys it.

He even made me put it on. And let me tell you, men's jackets are made completely different from women's. Everything except the hips and chest was okay. It made me look like Rambo on estrogen. No, thanks, I'll get a woman's jacket. But then he wanted me to play in it, too. So he made me run into the room weilding a toilet part as a weapon. I did so just to amuse him, giggling the whole time at how silly I must look. I ran into the room and did my best cop stance, shouting "Freeze!" in my deepest manly-man voice, wielding my toilet part like a deadly rifle. I was a rattler ready to strike. He burst out laughing. Gave me kudos for attempting to lower my voice, but all in all it was a pretty funny sight.

Yeah, that makes me want to do it again.

Not.

In their book Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul, authors John and Stasi Eldredge describe Jesus as the wooer of our spirits. I've been trying to come to terms with this side of my Savior, because when I think romance I think sex. Call it a side effect of the sexualization of my generation, but the two terms have been inseparably linked in my mind. I'm pretty sure that when they said that Christ is romancing me, trying to win me, they didn't mean that He wants to get me in bed.

So I have been struggling to separate the two terms in my media-brainwashed skull. It helps when something like today happens. I'm driving along the highway and get stopped at a red light. On the radio, the Newsboys are singing. It's warm, still pleasantly but nearing being unpleasant. I've got the air conditioning running and a sleeping baby in the backseat. I'm getting tired and I want to go home. Suddenly, a breeze hits the beautiful flowering trees to my left, and my Jeep is sprinkled with white flower petals like snow. The breeze continues for several minutes, too long to be natural, and it's almost surreal. It's gorgeous and enlightening.

And the Newsboys are still singing...

Oh they all fall

Like a million raindrops

Falling from a blue sky

Kissing your cares goodbye...

And for a brief moment I felt what it is like to be wooed by Jesus Christ, the Savior of my soul, who is always fighting for my attention and love, waiting patiently and yet impatiently until I give it. He's the neverending romancer.

Yes, Lord, once again you have my full attention.

So I'm Sarcastic...

Is that truly a bad thing? And besides, I prefer to be called witty.

My humor is sometimes sarcastic. I blame it all on my husband and his family, where sarcasm is the humor de jour. Spend too much time around them and you get drawn in, too. And I married into it, so where does that leave me??

My son had a birthday party today. He's two. The big... umm... two. Yes, yes, on Independence Day exactly two years ago, I was saying, "Please, dear God, if you have any mercy let me have this baby today!!!" Which, of course, in our sarcastic family meant that he came bright and early the next morning. At least he didn't dilly-dally around once he decided he needed to be born.

My mother-in-law attributes my short labor to all the walking I did trying to induce myself. My husband attributes my short labor to all the... ummm.... brisk activities we engaged in trying to bring about labor. Some of my friends say it was the 10 days of pre-labor contractions I had, and some claim it was the entire gallon of parsley tea I drank. So what if that sounds disgusting? It was, but at that point I was grasping at straws and I embraced every new "for-sure" labor inducer that I came across. My due date had come and gone by almost a week, and I was in so much pain!

So today we celebrated with friends this strange development from baby to kid. That wasn't in the manual for babies, and it's kinda like realizing that your cute little kitten is going to become a cat. It just makes you sit back and go, "What the heck am I getting myself in to?"

I didn't sign up for this whole kid thing, you know. I signed up for the baby thing, and he was supposed to stay that way. My parents always threatened to make me wear books on my head to keep me little... I wonder if that actually works...

Luckily as of now I have escaped the baby bug. You know, that pesky little thing that bites when you realize your kids are growing up, and you think, "I sure would like another baby..." As if we're still in denial about the whole baby-kid transition.

There's too much to do before baby #3 is born. I'm looking at two years minimum to get it all sorted out. I need to finish my education, become a Director (preferably very stable, where I've opened in other countries as well), we need a new car and to fix up the house, and we need to get out of debt. I told my husband that I wanted to be six months away from getting out of debt completely before I would consider getting pregnant. I want it to be a sure thing. No more albatross for us!

The party went well. We had cupcakes and a sandcastle cake. I put brown sugar around the bottom, sprinkled a minimum of powdered sugar on the top, and filled the middle with strawberries and blueberries. I will post a picture tomorrow, Bridget, I promise! The theme was Animal Planet, and so there were pictures of animals making funny faces on everything. Also on the menu were the kid-friendly favorites of pineapple-BBQ sausage, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, potato salad, kettle corn, crackers with cream cheese and Pickapeppa, and a lovely summer fruit salad that had white peaches, apricots, plums, apples, pears, bananas, and grapes. We didn't really play games, just let the kids play on their own, did cake and present time early, and then let the kids play with the birthday boy's new toys. Luckily one doesn't have to do much to make a toddler's birthday fun.

Totally random thought: I should post an old English essay here. I had to write a comment on some Poe, and one of the options was to write a story that was similar. I'd love to get your opinions on it, since apparently it was quite a hit at my Mom's school. I'll have to look for it. I tend to be highly critical of my own work, so I didn't think it was all that great, and reading it sometimes is embarrassing. Sort of like, "I wrote that? Oh, geez. How corny."

AND... I'm helping to plan a wedding. Well, as much as I'll be allowed! Happy happy, joy joy!!! I love weddings. I hope I don't try to take control, because I tend to get excited and have a lot of ideas. And sometimes they don't go over, and my excitement deflates like a popped helium balloon. KABAM! Oh, well, that just means I need to be careful about how pushy I get. You can pray for me if you'd like, because the last thing I want to do is turn this into something stressful for the bride!!!

Apparently I'm a Kleptomaniac

Stealing once again from Tonya:

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4.
Thursday, you stayed late folding the bulletins.

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What can you touch?
Our dresser.

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?
The opening credits to Wallace and Gromit as I started it for my kids.

4. Without looking, guess what time it is:
5:30 PM

5. Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?
7:14 PM (Holy crap! Where'd the day go???)

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
My kids playing with their nesting cubes in the livingroom, the air conditioner.

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
Around 4:30, and I was walking the last of our birthday party guests to their car.

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
Dishes that once were dirty that now are clean.

9. What are you wearing?
Black and heather gray sport-style shirt, capri jeans, black flip-flops

10. Did you dream last night?
Yes, but I don't remember them.

11. When did you last laugh?
About 20 minutes ago, my son was on the office chair behind me playing peekaboo over my shoulder.

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Hanging file, phone, a cross I decorated as an art project in MOPS, the embroidered quilt we were given as a wedding present.

13. Seen anything weird lately?
Not really. Everything's normal schnormal.

14. What do you think of this quiz? Finally, I don't have to answer whether I prefer Coke or Pepsi!!!

15. What is the last film or video you saw? All the way through? Pride and Prejudice.

16. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?
I'd pay off debt first, then the first thing would be a nifty 2006 Odyssey with all the bells and whistles. Then a paramotor, and then a new house.

17. Tell me something about you that I don't know.
When I was a kid I wanted to be a vetrinarian until I found out one day that sometimes vets had to put animals to sleep or do surgery on them. I'm not good with blood or needles or animal death, so that ruled out that profession.

18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt, or politics, what would you do?
Promote a common goodwill and end violence.

19. Do you like to dance?
Most of the time, but especially when no one is watching.

20. Comment to George Bush:
I don't have a lot of comments on politics, I keep most of my political opinions to myself and then just VOTE.

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Ummmm... my first child WAS a girl.

22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
But my first child wasn't a boy.

23. Would you ever consider living abroad?
If it weren't permanent. Maybe a few years.

24. What do you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
Well done.

Only in Texas

I've really enjoyed myself the past few days. I've been indulging in simple pleasures, and like the small stuff, it's paid off in a general happy attitude.

This past weekend we visited my in-laws. We went swimming on the lake, and got chased out of the water by a snake. Scary. I can handle snakes that are meant to be pets. I can't handle wild ones. We then watched an armadillo frolicking in the front yard before my father-in-law killed it. First time I'd ever seen one that wasn't dead. Didn't last long. They'd be cute if they didn't carry leprosy and rabies.

I actually got to counsel my little sister yesterday. That was so cool. It was an honest to goodness woman-to-woman talk. That also kinda freaks me out, because I still have this vision in my head of her in pigtails asking me to play Barbies with her. Yikes. I feel so honored that she felt like she could talk to me, and that she wanted my opinion. I'm afraid that just made my head get a little bigger.

Today I actually got to go into Williams-Sonoma, shop for a while, and leave with a big bag of goodies with no guilt. This is because this shopping expedition was compliments of my mother-in-law for our anniversary. Thanks, Mom. There was one big thing both the hub-meister and I wanted, so we each got that and then divvied up the rest on little things. We got a sandcastle bundt pan (mine), four mini springform pans for cheesecakes (his), a NICE set of mixing bowls with pour spouts, four spatulas, a multi-purpose scraper like they use at ice cream shops, an egg timer that you leave in the pot with the boiling eggs, and a book on cheesecake recipes. It was astounding.

We then spent quality time with friends this afternoon, which is something we haven't had the time to do in quite a while. What a wonderful way to celebrate the 4th! Thanks to all my friends for good food and good company!

And to top off the evening, I check my friends' blogs on MySpace and find out my great friend and composer Mark is moving back home!!! Which isn't here, but closer to here than where he is. He's now going to be close enough to warrant a visit every now and again for a weekend. I can't wait to see him once things settle down.

I'm off to catch up with the laundry before it takes over my house. I think I've heard my daughter's underwear plotting revenge with my bathrobe, and the mutiny has got to stop! And I need to do the dishes because the hubby has informed me that he's going to scour the kitchen tomorrow to get rid of our ants. And just when we were getting to know each other so well...

:P

Happy Fourth of July!

Oh say can you see

By the dawn's early light

What so proudly we hailed

At the twilight's last gleaming

Whose broad stripes and bright stars

Through the perilous fight

O'er the ramparts we watched

Were so galantly streaming?

And the rocket's red glare

The bombs bursting in air

Gave proof through the night

That our flag was still there

Oh say does that star-spangled banner yet wave?

O'er the land of the free

And the home of the brave?

And one for Texas:

The stars at night, are big and bright

Deep in the heart of Texas!

The prairie sky is wide and high

Deep in the heart of Texas!

The sage in bloom is like perfume

Deep in the heart of Texas!

Reminds me of, the one I love

Deep in the heart of Texas!

Fort Knox and Popcorn

I guess this blog should start out with an apology for not being very good at posting regularly. I apologize. I haven't posted because when I sit down to the computer I have nothing to say. Oh, I have plenty to say during the day, and some of it is quite funny. I think to myself, "I need to blog about that." Then I promptly forget it.

You see, women experience what is called "pregnancy brain." This is a term used to describe the complete loss of short-term memory during pregnancy that results in many frustrating moments. This condition is also suspected of being the cause for my incessant urge to put the chips in the fridge and the milk in the pantry while pregnant. Luckily this debilitating condition left me with my major motor skills most of the time.

After each child, in theory your mind is supposed to return to normal. But it has been my experience that just as the body is forever changed by bearing a child, so is the mind. I never got that darned short-term memory back completely, and it looks like it's going to be MIA permanently.

This explains why earlier today I decided to make my children popcorn. I placed the bag in the microwave, set the timer, and immediately went to wash dishes. Why? I don't know. It seems to be a side effect of the condition, that at random moments I lose the ability to reason. After all, it rarely takes more than one and a half minutes to cook a snack-size bag of microwave popcorn.

About two minutes into the cooking of the popcorn I begin to smell something. Remembering my horrible error, I go and rescue the popcorn, but it was a lost cause. The poor thing was so burnt it was smoking.

Smoking? Arrrrgggghhhh!!! Now my kitchen smells like burnt popcorn, a smell which I hate. And I smell like it because I was the one who handled the smoking bag. Got a good lungful of it, too. Had to repop a new bag, and this time I made myself stand next to it and not be such a darned multitasker. Because multitasking sometimes is NOT a good thing.

So I reach for some Glade and can't get into the cabinet. Why? Because we've had to make our house tighter than Fort Knox because of our daughter. The incessant curiousity that always gets her into trouble. Recently our baby boy has shown her how to open the cabinets with the locks. So we had to change the locks. These require a key of sorts. It's now my job to try to not let them see me open the doors. Because my little Houdinis will know how to get in if they can watch me once. That is also the reason we had to install new doorknobs at 6' level on my office and the pantry, and change both front and back door locks to double-key locks and hang the keys to where we almost have to stand on our toes to get them. Because I've watched my daughter pull up her chair, balance her drum on the chair, and climb up after the key.

I know you're so jealous 'cause my kid is so smart. Right?

Well, sometimes it's not all it's cracked up to be. Imagine a very smart kid with no impulse control that's faster than a speeding bullet and hasn't yet grasped the concept of "dangerous." (And not for lack of trying to explain it.) Yup, welcome to my life.

BUT... this weekend I'm going to see my in-laws, who in the great tradition of my family are very close and I love them to death. I can hear a night out for our anniversary and Williams Sonoma calling my name, and every minute gets me closer to the break. Because going out of town for me is a break because there are other people to help. Not just me. It makes the 4-6 hours in the car to get to our family worth the drive every time. And, of course, it's nice to see them, too. :)

KID-ISMS: via my daughter
This morning...
Mommy: "Baby, if you can't keep the popcorn in the bowl, I won't let you have popcorn anymore. Look at this mess!"
Baby girl: "He did it!" (Points to Baby boy)
Mommy: "It doesn't matter who did it, there is still a mess and you both need to help clean up."
Baby girl: "Okay, Mommy. Brother, let's be chickens." (Kneels down with hands on waist and starts pecking at the mess)

Last night, at bedtime...
Baby girl: "Daddy, let's sing the duck song."
Daddy: "I don't know the duck song."
Baby girl: "It goes like this... Nonny nonny nonny nonny!! The duck sooooonnnggg... and you see the duck, the duck is cryiiiiing... in the waaaaterrrrr... nonny nonny nonny nonny nonny!!!"
(In reference to a painting of a duck splashing in the water that is hanging on her wall)

A Message

It's been on my heart for a few days now to post the following lyrics by Casting Crowns, apparently there is someone that reads this blog that needs to know them. A lot of people that read this blog already know this song, because it's one that is sung at our church often, and it's also one that plays on the local Christian radio station. The message is for me, too, I've discovered, but even after I took it to heart, it was still on my heart to share it. So for those of you who don't know the song...

Blessed be your name
In the land that is plentiful
Where the streams of abundance flow
Blessed be your name

Blessed be your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be your name

(CHORUS)
Every blessing you pour out I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord, still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be your glorious name

Blessed be your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's all as it should be
Blessed be your name

Blessed be your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be your name

(CHORUS)

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be your name!

MoneyMoneyMoney

So much in life is centered around money. People devote most of their lives to making it, commit crimes to obtain it, get divorced over it... you name it, people have probably done it in the name of more money.

Does this make money a god?

Yes, that was a hypothetical question.

Money is the most common idol that we as Christians take. And unfortunately, I have fallen into this trap. Because I'm a worrier, I worry about our finances constantly. What can we do to make more money? We need more money to pay off our debt, we need more money to give our kids the things we want them to be able to have.

I don't remember the exact verse (someone please point it out to me), but there is a verse that says that you cannot serve two masters, you will love one and hate the other. You cannot serve God and money.

And, since this is the year of revelations for me, I am constantly coming to the conviction that I need to just stop worrying and hand it to God. I work myself into quite a tizzy when I worry over money, because the numbers don't add up. It's scary.

You know, Judas sold out Jesus for money.

There are also about 2,350 verses in the Bible that talk about money and the way we should handle it. Wasn't God awesome to forsee what a huge impact those little green pieces of paper would have on our lives?

So, I've asked God for peace in our financial crises, as they are, and He's been very faithful in delivering that peace. I know if I remain faithful to my duties as a steward, everything will fall into place. But I'm not a patient person, and I don't like waiting.

Which is something else to work on.