Irony and Humility

I think God loves irony. I see it constantly, and wonder if he laughs out loud over things I notice. At the very least, I know He can use irony in our lives.

For example, when I was in college, I noticed Bruce at the Baptist Student Union (BSU). He was tall, had nice broad shoulders and gorgeous blue eyes. We had friends in common and went to their house for impromptu Bible studies. I even dated Bruce's friend for a couple weeks before we both realized there was just nothing there.

I met with my prayer sister weekly at the BSU. I vividly remember telling her I thought Bruce was cute and that I'd like to marry someone like him one day. Not him, though, because he was too young. He's three and a half years younger than I am.

A few years later, we were married.

Another example. Early in marriage, Bruce and I discussed the perfect number of children to have. He said two, I said three, but only because we both come from families with three children. After awhile, I switched to his way of thinking, though, and two sounded like plenty.

When we first got pregnant, I prayed for twins. "Oh Lord, please let us have two in one whack with this pregnancy. Then we can be done. And if it's not too much to ask, I'd like one of each gender. You know. If you're taking orders or anything."

Our first pregnancy was a singleton one, and Clay was born. Oh, I loved everything about being a mom. That kid was perfect. Life was perfect... and by the way, did I mention that I was the perfect mom? It felt like that most days.

Because I am older than my husband, we didn't want to wait too many years to think about baby number two, so when Clay was near 18 months old we tried again.

And that's when God blessed us with twins. I got my three children... all in diapers at once. And from the day that Spencer and Allison were born I never, ever felt like the perfect mom again.

You see? Irony.

These past couple of weeks, I've been getting a wave of it again.

I mentioned in a previous post that I was thankful for God answering prayers, even if they aren't the answer we always want. I didn't go into much detail because I had not yet informed others involved of the new direction that God was taking me.

I am not going to be teaching Sunday school along with JoElla next year in the youth department. I love it. I love those girls, but many things have happened in the past several months that have shown me that God wants me to be at home more.

I am a stay-at-home mom. Have been for eight years. How much more "at home" does He want me to be? Just enough to show the difference between quantity and quality.

I was set to tell our 7th and 8th grade girls last Sunday that I won't be there next fall. It was JoElla's turn to teach... and the lesson was on perseverance.

Now, how was I supposed to tell those girls that I wasn't teaching the following year after a lesson on perseverance?

Irony.

This past Sunday was my turn to teach. The lesson was on humility. I could inform our class about my future absence after teaching humility much better than I could have after learning about perseverance! Yay God!

The previous week was a busy one, so I began preparations later than I usually do. And, specifically, after a nice little lesson in humility on the home front.

I mow our yard most of the time. I enjoy it. But there has been one small glitch the last several times I have mowed. The rear left tire on the mower has a leak, so each time before I mow, I have to pump that thing full of air. By the time I'm finished, it's nearly flat again though. There just hasn't been time or money to get it fixed.

I also told Bruce the last couple of times I mowed that he needed to fill our gas containers because the tank was running low. Still, I hopped on the mower, thinking I'd get done what I could and finish the rest after Bruce got home and filled up the gas containers.

I put in the key, pulled out the choke thingie, and turned the key, and then... nothing. No engagement of engine. Hmmm. Okay, let's try again, I thought. BUT THE DUMB KEY WOULD NOT TURN OFF! The lights were lit up, so I knew the battery had its juices flowing, but the engine would not turn over. Not even a hiccup.

Have I ever mentioned that I have massive issues when mechanical things don't function as they should? Deep-seated issues.

I think my irritation comes from the fact that I have no clue how to fix such mechanical items when they don't function as they should. I am deeply insulted when anything with a cord or battery does not operate when I expect it to.

I spent 15 minutes sitting on that mower, turning the key from one side to another. No difference. No engine. Lights were on, battery was flowing. Temper was rising.

I looked up and noticed Spencer and Allison watching me. I told them to get lost because Mommy was about to blow! Something like that anyway. They quickly scurried out of the garage to play in the yard.

A few minutes later, I called my unsuspecting husband and let loose.

"I am sick of stuff not working. I pumped up that tire, and got on this mower knowing I couldn't finish the yard because there isn't enough gas and it's supposed to rain on and off all of next week. Now the stupid thing won't start. I am not mowing again until this thing is fixed. Maybe we just need a new one!"

I ranted. He took it for longer than any spouse should. And then he told me to hush so he could tell me how to unhook the battery so he could look the mower over when he got home.

Bruce and I do not communicate well when I am in a snit and he tries to explain things over the phone. He's speaking Greek and I'm fluently spouting off Grouch. We got nowhere but more frustrated.

And then he hung up on me.

Oh, I could see where this was going. Straight to a dead battery. One more broken thing.

I told the kids to get inside because there would be no mowing that day. And then I stomped upstairs leaving the lights on the mower shining for all they were worth.

When Bruce called back a few minutes later, I did not want to answer. But I did. And he walked me through unhooking the battery.

And then he told me that instead of blogging about all my Christian thoughts, I should spend more time learning how to treat him with respect. Can you believe his gall? I couldn't. Respecting him at that moment was the very last thing I wanted to do.

I had a few niggling thoughts of conscience, but I tried really hard to stuff them down deep. I wasn't finished being mad at the mower for its inconsideration by being broken.

A few hours later, the anger was gone. I realized where my daughter gets her dramatic episodes and that I had just shown her a new way to pitch a fit. I knew I would be apologizing to Bruce as soon as he got home, probably beforehand in a phone call.

I talked to Spencer and Allison and told them I'd blown it and didn't act with any self control. (Again with the irony... how am I supposed to teach these kids self control?)

Then, I sat down to work on preparing for Sunday's lesson. On humility. And here are a few phrases that jumped all over me.

"Many... equate the words humility and weakness. The truth is, it takes a lot of strength and control to be humble.... Being humble is also a sign of Christlikeness.... Christians must wrestle with how to be Christlike on a daily basis."

And then there was a little checklist for the youth to do in their flyers. I always work through their flyers, too, as part of my preparation. The directions said to "Place a check mark next to the items below that display an attitude of humility." And the very first place I checked? "Respecting others."

Can't you see the irony? I usually prepare much earlier in the week, but we were so busy that I didn't. If I had, I might not have been such a dork about the lawnmower. Or at least in how I treated Bruce while I was angry with the lawnmower.

But that's not how it worked out. And in God's timing I got a more meaningful lesson than those girls got on Sunday morning.

It's embarrassing to admit such a weakness to control anger over an inanimate object. But it's real. I'm real. And I am not perfect.

And in all my blogging on my Christian thoughts, if there's ever been any doubt about what a sinful, selfish person I am, then I haven't been giving the correct representation. I think the lawnmower episode pretty much takes care of that, don't you?

By the way, Bruce replaced the whole ignition key area on the lawnmower. And the tire has been fixed as well. We even have a couple containers full of gas, too.

It's probably safe for me to mow again.

3 Random Things

I've been tagged by Anne to post 3 Random Things about myself.

Here are the rules:
1. Post three random things about yourself.
2. In your post, link to the person who tagged you.
3. Tag at least five other bloggers. Let them know you've tagged them by commenting on their blog with an invite to participate.

Scary! I feel like I already post every minute detail. More than I probably should.

But here are my three things:

1. I have pebbles visible directly under the skin of my right knee. The summer between sixth and seventh grade I made a poor decision to roller skate down a very steep hill between my house and my best friend's house. To avoid going down the rest of the hill and into traffic on Main Street, I veered into the driveway of my friend's house... which was gravelled and not paved. No forethought on my part, obviously. I scabbed up both knees with that adventure, and after they healed the gravel remained in one.

2. I must have bangs. No matter how I try to vary my hairstyle, every hairdresser I've ever had has received the admonition to "preserve the bangs" in some state. This comes from being scarred as a child by my mother cutting my bangs to hang about two inches above my eyebrows. It wasn't pretty. I have pictures, but to see them you'd have to marry into the family somehow. And my kids are pretty young, so I'm safe of that shame for a few years.

3. The first boy I crushed on was named Michael, and he's the first boy I ever kissed on the lips. Just once, in kindergarten (But not actually at school. Make no mistake about that). We lost interest in that because he had such cool toys to play with. We'd pull the yellow mushy middle of a daisy out and peer at it under his microscope lens. And he had Barbies. Well, not really Barbies. They were action figures... Batman, Robin, etc. But to me they were close enough to Barbies. Michael had a cat that I was forever trying to catch so I could hold. The one time I caught that beast, I am not sure what he had eaten beforehand, but he... ummm... pooped all over me. The liquid kind. I'm pretty sure my crush on Michael ended that very moment.

That's it. In all its glory.

Now to pass on the baton, I tag Cassie, Kim, who for the love of Pete has had a blog for a month now and has not posted yet, Cheryl, Fran and KC.

I hope that's all good with them.

Treble Makers at Church

Last night, the children put on their singing program at the evening church service. It was sweet. I love seeing all the kids. Not just mine, but the children of my friends. They work so hard and do their best. And then sometimes the funniest things happen.

The littlest kids, preschool and kindergartners, are called the Treble Makers. The kids in first through the sixth grades are called the Joyful Noises.

The Treble Makers sang three songs. Here are the boys. Spencer, in the middle, was playing a little air guitar. I hope everyone realized what he was doing, because at first it looked a little obscene.



And here are the girls. Allison is in purple, on the left.



The older kids performed "Esther-ordinary Faith" about Esther. They did a great job.

Clay's buddy Ben had a solo, and he rocked! Clay was riveted during Ben's performance. Our oldest son does not have aspirations to do solos. In fact, he wasn't even involved in children's choir this year. He told us last year he didn't want to do it, because he doesn't like performing in front of everyone.

I told Clay last night that next year, when I take Spencer and Allison to choir, he's going, too. They'll all be in the Joyful Noises next year, and I don't see any reason to drive two kids there and leave the third at home. This year, there was a time discrepancy between when the two groups practiced, so it was actually easier for us to let him opt out.

Clay sings like crazy at home. He loves it, but he balked when I told him he was going to go again next year. I told him he doesn't have to do a solo and I'd even ask the choir director to let him stand somewhere in the back during any performances. We'll see how this plays out.

Saturday night Bruce and I had a date night of sorts. The Moodys kept our kids for a sleepover so that we could go to a surprise 40th birthday party for one of his co-workers. Dave (the co-worker) used to be Bruce's boss. We camped with his family last fall. They're sweet and fun people.

Dave's wife Maressa had rented a banquet room at the Holiday Inn and had a projector there where she showed childhood photos of Dave. The place was decorated with Over the Hill and other black items. They served a buffet meal and played 80s music. Maressa put so much work into it. Dave's mom died a few months ago and this was Maressa's way of giving Dave something fun to focus on, instead of simply missing his mom. We had a great time.

Baseball Games

Our busy weekend started off with baseball games on Friday and Saturday.

Clay continues to fuss every time we get ready to leave the house for a game. He says things like, "Why do we have to play twice in one week? Can't we skip one of the games?" or my personal favorite, "You are dragging me everywhere around town. I just want to stay home so I can play with my brother and sister." And then there is the variation of that second one, in which he says, "I'm tired of always being gone. I just want to stay home to write books."

Yes, that's my boy. The homebody.

His allergies are bad right now, and I considered letting him skip one of the games. But we went. And today I'll be making a call to our pediatrician to talk about allergy control options. Clay is getting Claritin every morning and Benadryl before each outdoor activity, and he still looks like we've been punching him in the eyes, with lots of swelling and that lovely blue tint in the bags under his eyes.

Once he's on the fields, he seems to enjoy himself.



He's closing his eyes when he bats, which explains a lot. I showed him several pictures just like the one below so he'd realize what he's doing.



In Friday's game, at Clay's first time at bat, he swung and the ball hit his fingers on the bat, smashing them. He didn't make too big a deal out of it, but the coaches said he couldn't play anymore that game. Bruce and I didn't understand that.

I was thinking, "Uh-uh. No way. You get that kid back in the game. Do you know what I had to put up with to even get him here? Unless he's bleeding or something is broken, he can play, by golly."

I am not a huge baseball fan, but after the ordeal it took to get Clay there, I wasn't sure he didn't say something to the coaches to convince them he could no longer play. But Bruce said the coaches said it was policy. Whatever.

Back to Clay's eye shutting. When I mentioned to him what he was doing and asked him why, he said he was afraid he'd get hit by the ball. I just smiled and said, "Well, that already happened now, didn't it? And you didn't make a big deal about it. You didn't even cry. That's the worst thing you can think of happening, and it happened and you lived to tell about it. Next time keep your eyes open, because it won't be worse than that."

I know that's faulty logic in a hundred ways, but Clay smiled and said he'd try. Who needs logic if you can help a child get over his fears?

Spencer is day to Clay's night. That boy loves his baseball. He's not particularly skilled at this point, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm.

I have a question though. What is the difference between the helmet in this photo (Spencer is in the middle)...



...and the helmet in this photo?



Why would they put that gargantuan one on such a small head?

Spencer listens well to his coaches, but when he doesn't understand something, he is not afraid to ask questions.



It's raining this morning and I cancelled our vet appointment to get Dixie her shots. I am not loading an outdoor dog into the trunk space of our van while she's wet and probably muddy. Maybe Bruce can take her Saturday morning while I am at the Extraordinary Women's Conference with Cassie and Christy. Yes, that sounds nice. Bruce can take the dog, along with all three kids, to the vet. He rarely gets those sorts of pleasures that are a part of my day on a regular basis. He'll love that!

I'm hoping Clay's practice tonight will be cancelled. Even if it's not, I might not take him. I haven't told him that later in the season he has four games in one week. He'll love that!

Jane Austen Characters

I recently spent weeks watching every Jane Austen story that Masterpiece Theatre aired on PBS. "Pride and Prejudice," "Emma," "Northanger Abbey," "Mansfield Park," and "Sense and Sensibility." I even watched the old '40s adaption of "Pride and Prejudice" on a different channel, and then watched the PBS version a second time when it re-aired.

"Pride and Prejudice" and "Sense and Sensibility" are my favorites. I think. I really like "Emma", too, but I liked the Gwyneth Paltrow version better than the PBS version.

I've never actually read Austen's books, which is why I wanted to watch the movies so badly. I love the stories. And I'm going to read her books... one of these days.

In the meantime, I could not pass up this quiz.

Take the Quiz here!

You are Elinor Dashwood of Sense & Sensibility. You are practical, circumspect, and discreet. Though you are tremendously sensible and allow your head to rule, you have a deep, emotional side that few people often see.

I'm not too sure that Bruce would agree with the part about being tremendously sensible and allowing my head to rule. Most of the time, I rely on his good sense to help me think things through. It's okay. I'm secure enough to admit that.

Try the quiz if you are a fan of Austen's. And if you aren't a fan... why not?

The Purse

I've known for months that I need a new purse. And while many women salivate over that very statement, I am not one of them.

I do not like shopping for clothes, but with enough endless hours at the mall, away from the distraction of my children, I can pony up and come home with clothing. Nothing that will ever be classified as hip. But it'll cover all body parts that should decently be covered, and I color coordinate well. Throw that together with a shower and a blow-dry and you get my idea of being fashionably presentable.

Accessories? Even worse. Shopping for that stuff? I prefer cleaning bathrooms.

I'd rather be barefooted than shoed. But if shoes are necessary, then Birkenstocks are King, because they kick off easily.

The only jewelry I wear consistently is my Citizen watch and my wedding and engagement rings. All purchased by Bruce for me, and each has a function: one tells time and the other says, "I am taken" to all those hunky men out there who would otherwise be hitting on me so much it would become a bother. Eventually.

Purses, while accessories, are also necessary. I just don't have enough pockets on my Plain Jane outfits to enclose:
-two sets of keys (One for my van, the other for Bruce's truck.),
-tissues (It's always either allergy, or cold and flu, season!),
-antibacterial gel,
-Carmex,
-hypoallergenic lotion,
-my container of Coffeemate creamer (Yes. Yes, I do carry it with me always. Because I do not like liquid creamer. Coffeemate is my friend.),
-a calculator,
-wallet and checkbook,
-a small notebook (I keep lists!),
-lots of pens (One might run out. I might have to loan out the second one. The third one needs company, so I usually have four.),
-pictures of the kids,
-a plastic container full of Bandaids,
-several packs of sugar-free Extra (You never know what you'll be in the mood for: something minty, fruity or just plain ol' bubblegum flavored.).

Oh, there's more, but you get the point.

I had to have a new purse. The old one was... ummm... I think, four years old. And it finally broke. Not the strap or anything essential, but it was broken nonetheless.

I put a new purse on my Wal-mart shopping list. Don't shudder! And don't act shocked. I just told you I don't care about purses, so Wal-mart is as good as Vera Wang in my book. (I'm not even sure Vera Wang does purses, to be honest, but it's the first fashion name that came to mind.).

A purse stayed on my shopping list for four months, because at each shopping trip my cart would get full, and other things were more necessary. Like peanut butter and jelly for the kids. Sometimes even meat or fruits and veggies. And we have a budget. That I try to follow. Eighty-five percent of the time.

But this past shopping trip fell within the other 15 percent of the time. I was bound and determined to get that purse marked off my list.

I ran into a friend and her daughter, Christy and Emily, and chatted with them a minute. Then I hit the toiletry aisle and moseyed, slowly, toward the section with purses.

It's just painful for me. Because I have no fashion sense, and I'm highly indecisive. Such a bad combination. I picked up one purse I liked, and toted it around for a bit, before picking up another. I hauled that one in the buggy, too, before I found a third one. I ruled out the first one and put it back.

I checked both ends of the aisle, wishing to see Christy and Emily so they could just tell me which one to buy. (Emily is in the Sunday school class I co-teach. She likes purses. I can tell.) But, no, they were nowhere to be found.

No, on second thought, that third purse was not as cute as the first one. So I traded them out. Now I had the first and second options in my cart. The second purse won out over the first one... because I didn't like the cell phone pocket on the first purse. Finally. A decision.

Shew! I moved on toward the grocery section. But by the time I got to the little girls' clothes, I was wondering if I sold that third purse short. I went back for another look. Nah, I was right. Not as cute. (Bruce often wonders what takes me so long at Wal-mart. It's all the choices I face.)

After finishing up in the dairy section, I ran into JoElla, my co-teacher and wonderful friend. Ahh! It was like seeing manna from heaven.

The first words out of my mouth, my greeting to her, were:

"Do you like this purse? I have to have a new purse and I hate shopping for purses but I just spent 15 minutes over there and I can't go back but I will if you think this one is ugly because there are two other iffy ones even though one has a stupid cell phone pocket but I could make do if necessary so anyway... Do you like this purse?"



And she said the words that just confirm what a great friend she is to me.

"I do like it. It's cute."

She's very concise.

I felt like Abraham after God told him to put the knife down and not harm Isaac. What a relief. I didn't have to go back to the purse aisle.

For at least another four years.

Thankful Thursday - A Homecoming

Tomorrow is the day that my grandpa is finally ready to leave the nursing home and get back to his home. His spirit has been ready to leave since day one, but his body has needed a little time to catch up.

After a bout with pneumonia that started six weeks ago, he was hospitalized for almost two weeks. When he refused a feeding tube, he was sent to a nursing home for physical therapy and a time of recuperation.

I visited him a month ago, right after he was transferred to the nursing home, and I didn't think he was going to make it back home. Ever.

I'm thankful he will.

Here's my grandpa this past Thanksgiving. We celebrated Christmas at Thanksgiving because my whole family was able to be together at that time. Grandpa is watching Evan, my older brother's oldest son, open his gifts.

Evan and his little brother Wyatt live next door to Grandpa, and their almost daily visits will soon resume. Grandpa loves visits from his great-grandkids. And he's always suitably ready... with a gallon of vanilla ice cream in the freezer, Cokes in the fridge, Pringles potato chips in the cabinets, and on the counters, Chips Ahoy chocolate chip cookies and Starlight mints. Is it any wonder the kids love visiting?

Throw in a trek across the farm to see the Angus cattle and the barn cats while riding in grandpa's truck, where they don't get fastened into car seats or even wear seatbelts... it's sheer freedom for the little ones.

And being back home for Grandpa will also feel like freedom, too.

"Remember your word to your servant,
for you have given me hope.
My comfort in my suffering is this:
Your promise preserves my life."
Psalm 119:49, 50

Being Overweight Healthy?

Bruce sent me the following report.

A new report suggests that being overweight is not as harmful as is commonly believed, and actually confers some surprising benefits.

Being five to ten pounds overweight could protect people from ailments ranging from tuberculosis to Alzheimer's disease, research indicates. Those carrying 15 to 25 extra pounds are better able to recover from adverse conditions such as emphysema, pneumonia, and various injuries and infections, states the report.

Thirty to forty pounds of flab could help fend off breast, kidney, pancreatic, prostate, and colon cancer. And an extra fifty pounds on the scale may improve eyesight, reverse baldness, cure the common cold, and reduce global warming.

In general, the report concludes, overweight people are happier, more successful in business, smarter, and friendlier.

The study was funded by a research grant from McDonald's, Burger King, Jack in the Box, Taco Bell, Domino's Pizza, Starbucks, Haagen Dazs, Sara Lee, and Krispy Kreme.

Finally. A report I'm happy to read.

This came from GCFL.net: The Good, Clean Funnies List (A cheerful heart is good medicine... Prov 17:22a. Mail address: GCFL, Box 100, Harvest, AL 35749, USA)

Tool Time With Twins

I know you think these are just ordinary kitchen utensils. But you would be wrong. They are, in fact, tools of terror.

I just found them strewn about on the floor, on the bed and leaning against the wall in our master bedroom.

Most days, the wooden one is our "spanking spoon". Be critical if you must, but it's effective in curbing undesirable behavior. But now Spencer and Allison have figured out that it leads a double life.

Each implement is also a monster masher.

Our five-year-olds try to pull the old, "I'm scared to go brush my teeth by myself. I don't want to be the first one upstairs, because it's dark up there and there might be monsters."

We've tried telling them there are no monsters, but they've seen Power Rangers, so that argument wasn't holding water. I tried telling them that Mommy doesn't let the monsters in, that nobody comes in our house without mommy's permission. But they remember the neighbor's cat getting stuck in our garage, so that argument was dismembered.

Finally, I stuck a slotted spoon in each little hand and just told them to smack the monsters silly if they see them. Amazing how brave they can be when they're told they actually have parental permission to hit something.

Problem solved!

Until supper time. And then I'm on the hunt for my utensils.

Spicy Enough For You?

Here are two things that just don't mix well.

1. Skyrocketing grocery and gas prices.
2. The need to replenish your spice cabinet.

Every now and again you'll see, either in the newspaper or on a morning television show, a story in which you are told that you should occasionally check the expiration date on your spices. Because their potency goes downhill after that date stamped on the bottom.

Here's my tip for you. Don't do it right now.

Not when complete strangers start conversations in Wal-mart with you with this: "They used to say that if you had to pay for your prescriptions, you couldn't afford to feed your kids. Now, if you have to pay for gas, you can barely afford to feed your family." A sweet old man passed me in the cleaning supplies aisle and told me that little tidbit last week.

He wasn't just whistling Dixie either. I had just filled up the gas tank in our van.

I made two trips to Wal-mart that day. And I never left the parking lot. My cart was so full with BIG necessary items that I just didn't have room to finish shopping. Dogfood took up the entire bottom shelf. A 9-roll package of Mega Charmin took up a great portion of the buggy space. Throw in several boxes of cereal and canned items and I was at maximum capacity. I went through the line, paid and took my stash out to the van. I considered going home and calling it a day, and returning to Wal-mart the next day.

Then I remembered what I'd shelled out for gas. I trudged back in there like a trooper and finished my shopping, but went through a different line to pay. It just would have been too embarrassing to go through the very same cashier's line. He was a young man, probably single. I'm sure the first time I went through he thought I was feeding an entire elementary school classroom for a week.

Some time in the following days, I heard that news report. The one about checking the expiration date on your spices.

Because I am diligent about such things, I turned over one jar of cilantro... and very quickly turned that thing right side up and placed it back inside the cupboard. On the shelf. And I shut the door. I was hiding the truth from myself. I was afraid all of cilantro's spicy friends were equally as outdated. I didn't check.

By all reports, the jar should have ended up in the trash. But I have maybe two recipes that call for cilantro, so the jar was still full. I paid four bucks for that thing... awhile back, evidently. I don't care how much less its strength is the next time I need it, I'll still use what's in that jar. I've never heard of anyone dying from eating impotent cilantro.

But just to be certain... have you?

First of the Season

We considered this year whether or not to get season passes at Dollywood again. We originally planned to get them every other year. We had season passes last year, and then went to Disneyworld near Christmas, so I thought we were due a season off.

But then I got the flyer in the mail a couple of months ago and Dollywood had added a new area, so I was intrigued, but not exactly convinced. Bruce argued that we probably would be camping in the Pigeon Forge area more than once during the season, so we should get the season passes again. So we did.

Yesterday was our first visit of the year.

Here are a few pictures.

Bruce with Allison and Clay on the Lumberjack Lifts. I had already had my turn... twice. Once with Allison and then once with Spencer. I was done. You just shouldn't have to work on an amusement park ride. But our kids love that thing.

To get a better close-up of some of these shots, just click on the picture and a larger image will appear on your screen.




Spencer, enjoying the newest attraction, River Battle. We didn't let the kids ride it, thinking they'd get wet and it was a bit chilly yesterday. So much for that idea. The boys were soaked simply standing on the sidelines shooting the water guns at those who were riding.



Clay getting his soaking, courtesy of the River Battle.



Allison got wet, too, but she had a less enthusiastic response than the boys had. She cried.

Me and the kids.



Allison dreaming big.



Each time last year that we tried to ride the Dizzy Disk, it was shut down, literally as we came to stand in line. Three different times. And each time because lightning was spotted in the area. Yesterday was overcast, so I thought it was a lost cause, but Clay and I actually got to ride it. Bruce kept grinning at me while Clay and I waited in line, thinking that I had gotten the raw end of the deal. And I was getting apprehensive. But it was a complete blast! We loved it.



Spencer and Allison simply MUST ride the Veggie Tales Sideshow Spin every time we are at Dollywood. It's a tradition.



And the Shooting Star is also a must. We can't get Clay to stop doing these dorky poses.



We didn't get home until 10 p.m.

Bruce is the only one who didn't sleep on the way home... and he had to get up bright and early this morning while the rest of us slept until almost 8 a.m. Then we had a mad morning trying to get Clay to school on time, but it was worth it.

Spelunking, Babysitting, Drawing and Mrs. Noah

Friday was, of course, busy.

Clay had a field trip to Appalachian Caverns, and I signed up to chaperone. We all woke up earlier than usual so I could get Spencer and Allison to Miss Brenda's house to be babysat.

We left the house late, and don't you know it was inevitable that as we approached the train tracks between our home and Miss Brenda's, I heard a train whistle. Two minutes of waiting. Clay was bouncing in his seat, saying, "We aren't going to make it back to my school in time."

I was in Miss Brenda's house less than two minutes and then Clay and I got back on the road. Surprise, surprise! Same train track, different train going in the other direction this time. Two more minutes of waiting.

I got Clay to school in the nick of time, and then rushed back out to the van to run an errand. That morning I realized the batteries in the camera were kaput. And while I wasn't sure how well pictures would work inside a cave, I felt compelled to attempt a few.

I got the batteries at a convenience store and was sweating by the time I got back to Clay's school.

The field trip was really neat. I learned all about bats and bat poop, which is an ingredient in certain makeup, by the way. Another good reason to just skip that step in my daily regimen. Not that I do that step most days anyway. But it's a good reason to stop feeling bad about it.

We saw several little bats in the cave, and I wasn't one bit freaked out by it. I didn't see any bugs at all, which was one thing I was concerned about. I didn't want to embarrass Clay by screaming and running from the cave while pushing small children out of my path.

Here's a picture the guide took of me and Clay at the beginning. The little fella between me and my son is Clay's friend. He just popped between us right before the picture was clicked. Stinker!

I'm not sure what's up with all the spots. I was having major issues with that camera all day. Probably what my husband calls an "ID ten T" error. See. "ID10T". He's very nice to me most days, but occasionally my spouse likes to point out my deficiencies with all things technical. I just point back that it's what I married him for. Who needs know-how if you have a know-it-all. Um... I mean, someone who is in-the-know. Yeah. That's what I meant.



Before we even left the classroom, the boys' teacher told them that under no circumstances were they allowed to play Star Wars. I'm not sure what all that entails, but I'm pretty sure this qualified.



Boys!

After the field trip, I picked up Spencer and Allison and we headed home for a nap and some light cleaning before picking up Miss Amber, who was our babysitter for the evening. Amber is the teenage daughter of a good friend of mine.

I love that girl. She's the first youth that reached out to me (albeit with sarcasm, delivered with a sweet smile. I like sarcasm if it's served on a silver platter like that). God used Amber to show me that I could be around youth and not want to strangle them. (Don't act all holy, like you don't know what I mean!) Anyway, through Amber, I accepted God's leading to teach in the youth Sunday school department. And, boy, has He blessed me with those sweet 7th-8th grade girls.

Anyway, the day was rough because while I saw more of Clay than usual, I saw less of Spencer and Allison than typical. And we've never had a babysitter twice in one day.

Friday was also a BIG DAY for me, because it was the first time I had hired a youth babysitter. We are so blessed that Bruce's parents live close enough to watch our kids for us often. And when they can't, or I feel like we've asked too much and can't put them out again, Miss Brenda has been our sitter. She's a grandmother who attends our church and has kept kids in her home for years. My kids love her and often call her Aunt Brenda, even though there is no relation.

Amber promises me that the evening went smoothly from her end. And the kids rave about the good time they had with her. She scored big points with Clay when she let him text her boyfriend (another youth from our church, who I have had a special place in my heart for for years, since Bruce and I co-taught his second grade class. I pray for that one bunches!).

From our end, we had a good evening, too. We went to Bruce's Sunday school class teacher's house for a class-wide adult game night. We played Win, Lose, or Draw and ate pizza. Lots of pizza.

I drew "Egypt". And Cassie guessed it correctly. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but that makes one of us... actually both of us... pretty amazing. Egypt!

But there was just no place to go when I got "horoscope" during the lightning round. And, sadly, the men won. They are very proud of themselves.

Today was another busy day... but mostly just for me. I got up way early to meet some buddies for breakfast at Perkins. I saw the most beautiful sunrise as I left our subdivision and I had to turn the radio off for a bit to just talk to God about that sunrise. He just deserved some props for that! So I gave credit where credit was due.

Breakfast was so fun. We spent two and half hours talking, laughing and making sure we all had each other's cell phone numbers programmed in our own cell phones. Because, you know, who actually memorizes phone numbers anymore?

I discovered that Babysitter Extraordinaire Amber and her family will be at the Outer Banks the same week our family will be. That's what prompted the cell phone number swap. We're going to hit the beach together some while there.

We have never vacationed with friends. We've been to Myrtle Beach once with Bruce's parents and once with my brother and his family. But never anywhere with friends.

I'm not sure we're those kind of people. (I don't mean that to sound snotty. Just pointing out that many people vacation often with friends.) I love my friends. And they know that. But my vacation time with my family is exclusive, mostly by choice. I've talked to two of my closest friends this year about having our families vacation together. Both of them understand that, with us, that would mean that we meet for a couple hours a day but the rest of the time we'd be on our own with our respective families. But our family vacation dates didn't mesh.

So, I'm excited about the Millers being at the beach while we are. I think it'll be fun.

After my early morning breakfast, I made a very necessary trip to Wal-mart for groceries. I got back home in time for Bruce to rush Clay out the door for his first baseball game of the season. They came right back in the door 15 minutes later. Clay had forgotten his glove. His lefty glove, so it's not like he could have borrowed someone else's easily. They were so late by then, they just stayed home.

A few hours later, I was off to church for our Ladies' Spring Banquet. We had great food, great fellowship and a wonderful speaker named Jackie Pegram. She was fun, and came to us as Mrs. Noah. No first name, because, as many of us women, she's known mostly because of her association to her spouse... Noah... of "The Ark" fame.

She talked about living by faith and not by sight. She said something very profound. We need to live with direction, but not necessarily with clarity. If we are always clear on God's plans, then we won't live in faith. We have to do what He says, even when we don't understand why.

Mrs. Pegram also acts out skits for Eve, Hannah, Esther, Leah and Naomi. She dresses for the parts as well.

If you live anywhere within traveling distance of northern North Carolina, I highly recommend booking this lady for you next church function. She's making a trip to South Africa for six weeks in May and June, and when you hear her talk about the orphans there, you'll witness her passion. You can learn more about her ministry here.

Say a prayer for her, too. For safety on her trip. For more money to purchase additional socks, shoes and toboggans for those kids (and for co-travelers to help take those items to their destination). And for understanding of God's message in the hearts of those she comes in contact with.

Flashback Friday - Pages from the Past

During a recent foraging in my grandpa's basement, I found a box marked in my mom's handwriting with the words, "Tanja's children's books and memorabilia". I needed to get on the road back home, so I quickly checked the contents to confirm that it was actually my stuff inside, and then put the box in the van to look into further when I got home.

Here's one thing I found inside.


That's my handwriting. Back when it was still legible on a regular basis. I was probably 14 when I wrote that list of words. (Let's face it, at 14 is there really any reason to rush - ever? No wonder my handwriting was better then!)

I'm not sure why I jotted those words down, but I also marked them in increments of 100. There are five sheets. I wrote on the front and back. Nearly 1,000 words.

It was probably a list of words I wanted to look up to learn their meanings. I must have felt I had a lot of words to learn. Perhaps this was the first sign that I'd end up doing something with writing in my life.

I'm happy to report that after 20 plus years, I now know the meaning of most of the words on that list. Words like: benevolence, fastidious, lackadaisical and cessation.

But I still have work to do. I have no idea of the meanings of other words on that list. Words like: verisimilitude, lugubrious, panegyric and empyrean.

I need to schedule some time with my trusty dictionary.

If you want to see another Flashback Friday picture, go to Cassie's site. That crazy lady put a picture of me on there. It's not overly flattering, so when I see her tonight I'll have to work on a forgiving heart.

That's a joke. I do think the picture is... ugh... but Cassie's still cool.

Thankful Thursday - Answered Prayer

Today, I am so thankful to the Lord for answering prayers. And more, for even hearing my prayers.

I've been praying about a certain matter since October. I'd waver back and forth between what I wanted and what I thought God wanted. My old companion Indecision joined me for the battle.

Then my grandpa was hospitalized, and I made an unexpected trip to see him.

The realization that I have limited time with my littlest ones before they start school constantly nagged at me in the back of my head.

And family time is being challenged in my home. Quiet, renewing family time. The ADHD-type of family time is becoming too common. Run here, run there. Quick questions here, short answers there. Meals on the run. Memorizing Awanas verses on the go.

Everything became clear, and I had a peace about the direction the Lord wants me to take. And even though there is a big part of me that does not want the path that He wants, I'm grateful for His leading.

And for his listening to my petitions.

"Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."
Hebrews 4:16

A Real Princess and A Big King

On my date night with Bruce on Saturday, we hopped, skipped and jumped over to Books-A-Million. Because I secretly fantasize that it is my home away from home.

I love everything about the place. The lighting is fantastic. It's quiet. It smells good in there, meaning that there's a noticeable absence of offensive odors related to smelly socks, food left too long in the sink without being ground through the garbage disposal, or hits and misses in the bathroom by the male children in our home. (Names are omitted to protect the guilty.)

Books-a-Million obviously houses fresh books, too; ones without the spine all broken, the cover all scuffed and the pages all dog-earred. I betcha money, if there were mirrors in that place, I'd look skinnier, too.

I can't help myself. I'm in love with BAM.

You know what's hysterical... to me anyway. BAM are my husband's initials, too. It's kismet, I tell you.

On Saturday, I roped my honey into buying me a book I've wanted for many months. It's called "His Princess: Love Letters from Your King" by Sheri Rose Shepherd.

Here's the devotion that I read today.

"My Princess,
You don't have to fit in. I know you want to be accepted by others, but you were not made to fit in. You, My Princess, were created to stand out. Not to draw attention to yourself, but to live the kind of life that leads others to Me. Remember, it's your choices that will pave your path to life. I will not force you to do anything. I have given you a free will to walk with Me or to walk away from Me. I want you to know that you can put on your crown at any time and let people know that you belong to Me. You have a royal call on your life. I want you to remember you wear the crown of everlasting life, and through you I will do abundantly more than you would ever dare to dream.
Love,
Your King and Crown Giver

'Am I now trying to win the approval of men, or of God? Or am I trying to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ.' Galatians 1:10."

When I first read that, I thought about the 13- and 14-year-old girls in the Sunday school class I teach. Oh, that longing to fit in when you are a teen. That odd mixture of wanting to blend in so that you don't stick out in any negative way, but to still be an individual, someone unique and special.

I'm a grown woman who still seeks to fit in. But I don't need to. I don't have to blend. And I'm not even called to.

No meshing allowed. We're supposed to fly our freak flags... but, um, make sure it's your Jesus Freak flag. You can keep your other freaky things to yourself. Well, unless they glorify God, too. You get the idea.

I'll probably share this devotional with my youth girls.

The second time I read it, though, the words hit me fresh in my heart.

My favorite part of the letter from my King is near the end. That part about having a royal call on my life. And that God is going to do even greater things than I dare to dream.

I'm struggling with plans for the future right now.

All my kiddos will be in school in the fall. I'm wondering about what to do with myself in the upcoming year. I'll admit the idea of having some extra cash flowing into the home is enticing me to consider going back to work, but only part time. It's been eight years this month since I quit my last paying job, working in PR for the Texas Society of CPAs.

I did not like that job. The pay was excellent, but more days than not, I was bored.

Newspaper reporting, which is where I have most of the experience garnered following an English/journalism degree, was not boring to me. The pay was only slightly above pitiful, but I loved it. It's erratic, challenging, exciting, always fresh and new.

Some days I yearn to work in newspaper again. Other days, the thought of it makes me want to toss my lunch. Because it's erratic, challenging, exciting, always fresh and new... and I'm not sure how that will work with my personality type and my roles as both wife and mother.

I'm not the same person I was eight years ago. Having babies changed me. Moving to Northeast Tennessee, and the idea that it quite likely is my last move ever, has changed me. Being married even longer to Bruce has grown me (LOTS!). And deepening my love for my Savior has vastly altered my outlook.

My priority in considering working outside of home will always be to keep my family first. But no matter what ideas I have floating around in my head, He's got plans to do things even greater than what I dream. Abundantly more than what I think is "good stuff."

Doesn't it just blow your mind sometimes how good He is to us? In even the most piddly of decisions, He's considering what's best for us. He knows all the possibilities that we don't even have the sense to consider. And He works it out for our good. We really are Princesses, loved ever so sweetly by our King.

I leave you with this from Ayiesha Woods' song "Big Enough"



You turned water into wine - how extraordinary
Gave sight to the blind - and still I carry
My own load when you told me
To take your yoke ‘cause yours is easy

And even though my issues seem trivial
You alone are never too imperial
It's just the way that you love me
It's enough to convince me

And I don't wanna box you in
You've been doing big things since the world began
Sometimes I just don't wanna believe
That you're big enough - but you're big enough yeah!

I don't wanna box you in
You've been doing big things since the world began
Sometimes I just don't understand that you're big enough
But you're big enough Jesus!

You turned darkness into light - keep my lamp burning
And you are my everything
There's no denying, your love is so amazing
And even though my problems seem typical
Nothing for you is ever too difficult
You never have reservations - love without limitations

And I don't wanna box you in
You've been doing big things since the world began
Sometimes I just don't wanna believe
That you're big enough - but you're big enough yeah!

And I don't wanna box you in
You've been doing big things since the world began
Sometimes I just don't understand
That you're big enough - but you're big enough

Oh, no matter how I try to get around it - I'm reminded
Wherever I go I'm totally surrounded
It's all about you - I can never doubt you
Even if I wanted to…

And I don't wanna box you in
You've been doing big things since the world began
Sometimes I just don't wanna believe
That you're big enough - but you're big enough yeah!

And I don't wanna box you in
You've been doing big things since the world began
Sometimes I just don't understand
That you're big enough - but you're big enough

That you're big enough
That you're big enough

That you're big enough
That you're big enough yeah!

Weekend in Review

We stayed home from church this evening because Miss Allison's tummy is upset. That and she was a humongous grouch, not fit for Sunday services. I finally put her in bed for a nap, and she slept passed the time we should have left for church.

Our busy weekend probably led to her breakdown.

As is becoming typical, we rushed around on Friday. The second grade at Clay's school put on a show, so that afternoon I took Spencer and Allison to watch and to give Clay some support. He worked me over big time that morning before school to let him stay home.

"Mom, my stomach hurts."

"My throat hurts."

"I have a head ache."

And then he got the thermometer out and took his own temperature, which was normal, although I'm sometimes not certain my child is. He still said, "I can't believe you're sending me to school sick."

Yep, that's me. No mercy for stage fright.

His whole grade did great. I laughed. I didn't cry. I've never seen Cats, so no comparison.

After the show, it was close enough to the end of the day that I took Clay home with us. Just enough time for snacks and a little play time before heading to the ball fields for Spencer's practice. And then home in time for showers and bed.

Saturday the kids were outside all day. From after breakfast until bedtime. We even skipped lunch, but that was sort of an accident. I took Clay to have his baseball pictures made while Bruce continued working on our deck project. I figured he'd feed Spencer and Allison while we were gone, but he was a busy bee and didn't take a break.

Since the ball fields are near the county library, Clay and I swung by after his pictures were made. And that's when I realized that Bruce and I had had a bit of miscommunication during the week. He'd checked out three movies while I was in Cookeville a couple weekends ago, and they were due back in one week... not four weeks later like the audio books on CD. I turned those things in five days late one morning before the library was even open.

And on Saturday, when we went to check out our new stack of books and DVDs I was told we owe $12 and that she couldn't check out anything to us until the fee was paid. All I had with me was my key ring that had our library card on it. She had to re-shelve six books and four movies while I had to leave with one very disappointed boy. I'm not sure which one of us was less happy.

Those libraries are very serious about getting their DVDs back... on time. Or else.

We got home in time for me to shower for my date with my husband. We dropped the kids off at Bruce's parent's house. Bryan and Alondra and their kids were visiting, so our kids got to have some cousin time. Sharon said they stayed outside until dark and didn't give her a bit of trouble going to bed.

Bruce and I went to eat at Riverfront and then walked around the park afterwards with Bruce taking pictures now and then. I heard geese honking as they flew overhead. It made me think about the year we lived in Stuttgart, Arkansas... The Rice and Duck Capital of the World. Really. The sign as you are driving into town says so.

It's a small, Mayberry-type town, with a population just under 10,000. Bruce and I reminisced about some of our favorite things about living there. Every Thanksgiving they have the World Championship Duck Calling Contest. The town population swells for that week to near bursting. And the hunters come in droves.

The huge downfall to the town is that, in order to grow rice, you must have flooded fields. That sort of water attracts some mighty pesky bugs.

The state bird is jokingly said to be the mosquito. The town of Stuttgart actually has a mosquito control department. In the summer if you take a quiet stroll down the sidewalks off of main street, you will get hosed by the junk they spray to keep the mosquito population to a minimum, which means very little. We raked leaves in November the year we lived there and I looked like I had chicken pox the following week thanks to my sweet blood and some thirsty mosquitoes.

And the rice dust that floats around town chips in with the humidity to attract monster roaches to the area. We had a monthly contract with a bug spraying company. And I made certain each appointment was kept. I became diligent soon after we moved there when I was certain I heard a mouse walking across the hardwood floors of our home... and then saw it was a roach... nearly the size of a mouse. I am not making this up. I heard that sucker scurry across our floor.

But I loved living there. We met some fine folks, had some wonderful experiences and were members at a great church. And I got to hear geese honk on a regular basis. It was nice.

Shew! That was a big digression. Back to the weekend.

After church this morning, we had lunch at my in-laws' house where we picked up the kids. On the way home, we picked up a friend of Spencer's for a play date at our house.

Spencer and Cade had a great time. Here's a few pictures.







This last one is my favorite. Too cute!

A Little Plug

I'm still without photo capabilities, or I'd do this myself.

Instead, I'll just give a plug for my friend Cassie. Last Friday, she started doing what she called Flashback Friday, where she posted an old picture of some friends camping. She's very creative, so I asked her to consider doing a little header that others could borrow and join in her fun.

She did it, and here's the nice job she came up with.



I told you she was creative. Nice vintage-looking header, huh? Try not to be jealous of her obvious talent. (It bugs me, too! Where's my share of creativity, I often wonder?)

Anyway, feel free to use her header and join in all the reindeer games... uh, whatever.

And while you're at it, if you have a minute, go to Cassie's blog and check out her latest Flashback Friday pictures. Too cute.

Yummy

I don't often share recipes on here. As a matter of fact, this may be a first. But this is just too simple and too yummy to keep secret.

Spencer, Allison and I have been slowly getting our appetites back after our recent bouts will illness, and just nothing sounds good. And then I remembered a recipe I had dog-earred in the current issue of Taste of Home's Simple and Delicious magazine. I had even bought all the ingredients before we ever got sick, which really only required one extra item above what we normally have on hand anyway.

Plus, this has the added benefit of being mostly healthy and so yummy my kids finally ate (drank) something in its entirety for the first time in awhile. They took their time though.

Want to see my highly professional photograph of this tasty concoction? Sure you do.

Okay, technical difficulties. I'll have to put that inspiring picture up later, once Bruce gets home to smack some sense into this computer. I can't hit it hard enough. Actually, we had computer problems earlier this week and he's had to re-install everything, but evidently forgot about our camera software.

On to the recipe.

Chocolate Banana Smoothies
1 Cup of milk
1 Cup of vanilla yogurt
1/2 Cup of chocolate syrup
2 medium bananas, halved
8 ice cubes

Put it all in blender and process until smooth. Pour into chilled glasses and serve immediately.
(And to make sure I'm giving even further credit, this recipe was sent in by Renee Zimmer of Tacoma, Washington.)

I even got the coveted phrase "You're the best, Mom!" from one of mine for making these. And really, does it get any better than that?

Thankful Thursday - The Birds

I love the sound of birds singing outside my bedroom windows, especially early in the mornings. I have since I was a kid.

There is such a constancy there. I realize that no matter what goes on in our house in any given day, the birds still sing outside.

Birds singing remind me that God is always God. He doesn't change. Our circumstances might, be He stays the same. I try to think on that every time I'm faced with something that seems insurmountable, hopeless or harder than I want to deal with.

I thought about God's constancy during my ride home from my weekend trip to visit my grandpa in the nursing home a couple weeks ago. That was just hard. And even though it threw me into a mental and emotional tizzy, God was still God. Everything was going to be okay. Different maybe, but okay.

I thought about it this week as I tried to sleep in my bed with Allison next to me. Me and my two younger kids were worn out from the stomach flu. Spencer had gone to his own bed for naptime.

Our neighbor's across the street are having a new roof put on, and the hammering was going full force. I thought, "What are the chances that they'd stop hammering for a few hours if I ask them nicely?" (Chances were good, considering they probably would have fallen off their ladders if I showed up making any request while wearing old pjs I'd had on for nearly 48 hours, with unkempt and unwashed hair. But I was too tired to get out of bed.)

Then Allison reached across the pillows and touched my face. When I looked at her, she said, "Mom, I love hearing the birds sing outside. It's so pretty."





We fell asleep hearing the birds, not the hammers. And we slept long and hard, which was just what we needed. It was a blessing from the Lord.

I love that about God. No matter what goes on in our house on any given day, He's got it all covered. He doesn't change.


"God is not a man, that he should lie, nor a son of man, that he should change his mind. Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfill?"
-Numbers 23:19

Almost Better

We are on the mend. Yipee!

A friend from church left me an e-mail saying her sweet daughter had the crud, too, so we're both certain our church is just sharing the love right now. We're missing Awanas tonight, but not out of fear of catching it again. Well, not entirely, anyway.

Spencer has always taken stomach bugs very hard. He's the child I spent a night in a hospital bed with when he was 18 months old because he got dehydrated after a stomach virus. He's just so doggone skinny that he has no calories to spare. He eats better than my other two, but burns it off as fast as lightning. I know that's not news to anyone who has seen him in action. And he hates vomiting so much that when an episode hits, it takes forever to convince him he's over it. He'll get himself so riled up, he literally makes himself vomit again. Pitiful! Anyway, he's still a bit puny.

Allison and I have bounced back better. She slept in today and then took a long nap this afternoon. Other than that and having less of an appetite than usual, she's back to herself.

I've been cleaning all day. First, the kids both got a good scrubbing. And, my bathroom's had been defiled; I needed them back in order. A stomach bug will kick me out of procrastinating a cleaning spree faster than anything. It's that whole "ick" factor.

Here's the lowlights of my 24-hour bug. Other than the obvious, which I will not go into detail about because that would not be nice.

1. If there's any way to foresee the stomach bug, do not pick the day beforehand to start running again. At church Sunday I saw the same friend I mentioned above (This means you, Miss Tracie). I haven't seen her in a bit, because I'm clear over across the street, teaching in the youth building. In any case, I'd heard she was running, but on Sunday I saw that she'd been running. She has crossed over into Hot Mama territory. I felt inspired. So on Monday morning, I hopped on my dusty treadmill and ran for 30 minutes. Well, okay, actually it was just 20 minutes. And truth be told, it was more like two minutes of walking for every minute of running. But I did it. And when the stomach bug hit, I regretted it. I just couldn't tell what part of my body hurt from exercise and what part hurt from heaving. Yes, I'm sadly out of shape, but don't kick a girl when she's down!

2. What really stinks... what really chaps my hide... what really just makes me mad... that stupid scale of mine didn't even have the decency to budge one stinkin' pound after my 24-hour ordeal. That's just not right!

3. Just because I called Bruce to come to my aid, and he left work early enough to pick up our third pitiful child from school does not make him some Sir Galahad. He made himself and Clay scarce the rest of the day. They hung out outside, fiddling with the camper, until supper time. Bruce did slap together a PB & J sandwich for Clay before sending him with my in-laws to his baseball scrimmage. And then he ran like a scared girly-man to lead the Financial Peace class at church. I washed Allison's bed yesterday, in between sleeping sessions, but he did make it. But this morning when I came down to the kitchen, it was a disaster. Not that it was his fault. It was a mess before I got sick, and I had big plans to clean it before everything hit.

Okay, because I know I'll feel bad for blogging anything negative about my Bruce, I'll say this: I don't hold it against him. Under normal circumstances, he would have not only taken out the trash but also loaded the dishwasher and maybe even the washing machine if I asked very nicely. But he had to pack for his business trip. And I know he didn't want to touch anything that might contaminate himself before he boarded that plane and spent a night in a hotel room.

So he still gets to be my knight in shining armor. This time. But I'm telling you, he's walking a fine line!

Have I mentioned how much I miss him already? He's been gone for only 12 hours. Twelve more to go, too.

Not that I'm counting or anything. Gosh, I wouldn't want to look easy!

Sick

Three out of five people in our house are currently sick with the stomach flu.

Spencer started yesterday evening, Allison began before dawn this morning, and I followed and was sick before lunch. We three haven't done anything today except watch TV, get sick and sleep. My bones hurt from sitting so much in the recliner.

I actually called Bruce around 1 p.m. to have him pick up Clay from school, because I was not fit to drive. Clay's allergies were bothering him, and his teacher had called twice. In my stupor this morning I forgot to give Clay his Claritin.

Small favor... please pray that Bruce does not get this. Of course, I don't want Clay to be ill either, but Bruce has an early flight tomorrow to Wichita for business. His return flight will get him home in time to get to his evening class Thursday. It would not be pleasant for him to visit the airplane restroom as often as most of the rest of us have had to today.

He'll be sleeping tonight in Allison's freshly laundered bed, while I sleep with one or more sick kids in our bed.

He's afraid, very afraid.

He should be.

And to you moms whose kids are in Spencer and Allison's Sunday school class... sorry. I haven't had them anywhere else this week, so I'm thinking they got it there, and likely shared it as well.

Oh, and here's the irony... Last week's post on whether to feed the folks I love soup beans that had fallen onto the kitchen floor before they were soaked? Of course I did! I washed and rinsed them quite well before deeming them edible.

Last night, before all this stomach junk started, we had them for leftovers.

I think I'm being punished!

More likely, the good Lord doesn't like pinto beans either. He is all knowing, after all.

Mowing Time

I mowed the yard yesterday.



Maybe a more apt description would be to say that I bush-hogged the jungle.

While most of our neighbors have mowed at least once or more by now, we procrastinated. I like to think we saved money by not filling our gas tanks yet, but in actuality, we've just been too busy.

There are three houses for sale that directly border our house or yard. The timing of that doesn't show that we're bad neighbors. Our dog isn't even a big barker (our kids on the other hand....). Seriously, one household is undergoing a divorce, another has bought a lot in a new subdivision nearby, and the third one is being sold after the death of a spouse.

I told Bruce if we put off mowing long enough, there was a good chance one of those three would consider our yard such a bad reflection of the neighborhood that they'd mow it for us. I could have held out a bit longer, I think.

But the weather was so gorgeous that I couldn't resist. Besides, it was either mow or clean house. That was the easiest decision I made all day.

I'll procrastinate just a bit longer on house cleaning, but the hubby and I have date plans for the next two weekends, so the house will get a good scrubbing before the sitter comes. Sometimes I just need some good motivation. (No silly comments about how my family should be motivation enough. I know where several of you live and I know how to use toilet paper appropriately and still make it look like someone from the youth group did it!)

Back to the yard. I love mowing. I started doing it a few years ago, mainly because I got jealous of Bruce coming home from work and immediately heading out after supper to mow while I got to continue my harrowing day with three preschoolers. He'd sit out there, gently bouncing around on the seat of the riding mower, headphones on, listening to his MP3 player. I'd glance out the window in between chastising one child for this and wiping something sticky off of another child, and I'd think, "Something is not right here."

I never got to mow when I was growing up. My brothers did the mowing and probably didn't care for it. But within the sole daughter in the house beat a heart that was longing to mow.

My jealousy of Bruce's solitude provided me the motivation I needed. So one day, I asked Bruce if I could mow instead of him. He seemed relieved. Crazy man didn't quite understand the nuances of what he was getting into when he said, "Sure."

It was wonderful. I didn't even take the MP3 player he offered to loan me. Are you kidding? I'd had noise bouncing around in the house and my head all day. The drone of the mower was all I needed. White noise, here I come!

I've been the mower in the house for a while now, and it works for us. On days like today, when I "bush-hog" Bruce comes home and uses his handy-dandy "sweeper" attachment that hooks onto the back of the mower, and he picks up all the mounds of grass left behind. We use the clippings as mulch.

I get a tan, too. It's a farmer's tan, but I'm not in a bathing suit enough for anyone except other vacationers to know my secret. What do I care if they think I look like a hick?

I have it so good. I mow, I get cheap mulch and a bit of silence, and I tan.

When Good Surveys Go Bad

I demand a recount.

How can it be? It's not possible that a person who does not care for the beach in summer time should be classified as a flip flop.

It's true. Here's proof.

You Are Flip Flops

You are laid back and very friendly. Cheery and sunny in disposition, you usually have something to smile about. Style is important to you, as long as you can stay casual. It takes a lot to get you to dress up! You are a loyal and true person, though you can be a bit of a flake. You tend to "play hooky" and blow off responsibilities a lot more than most people. You should live: By the beach You should work: At a casual up and coming company

Ohh, silly survey. I don't care one whit about style.

I do, however, take great pride in my flakiness. It keeps me sane.

And I have lived at the beach. For two years when I was in the fourth and fifth grade. And for 10 weeks when I did summer missions during a break from college. Same beach, even. Myrtle Beach, S.C. I liked it much more as a kid than I did as an adult.

One super fabuloso thing about flip flops that I love is that you can slip in and out of them in an instant. And no socks. Yipee!

Take the survey.

What Kind of Shoe Are You?

Five Thoughts

This post is going to be a bit of everything. My brain is zipping around with information this morning. I'm not saying any of it will be useful, or even entertaining, but it's there and it must come out. This is the best place for that to happen. Poor Bruce can only take so much, you know what I mean?

First, "Rendition" was a decent movie. Good, even. Violent though. And it had some distinct political undertones that left me wondering if it wasn't just one more Hollywood attempt to diss our current president. But other than that, there was one point in the movie, near the end, that Bruce and I both sat up straighter, glanced at each other and went, "Whoa! What just happened here?" And he and I both appreciate a movie when that happens. If you watch it, though, pay attention from the get-go. There are a bunch of characters to follow.

Second topic, my grandpa. He seems to be getting better. My dad says the coughing from the pneumonia is calming, finally. Grandpa is allowed to drink straight water again, and not strictly that thickened version that he detests. His appetite seems to be improving because he's asking my dad to smuggle him in some beans and 'taters. Still, he continues to belligerently ask to go home. I asked Dad to get grandpa a phone hook-up so that maybe he'll calm down a bit about being there. He can't see to watch the TV, and he can't have his radio in his room because he has to listen to it so loudly to hear it that he'd disrupt everyone's day. A phone seems like a good distraction. Plus, I'll be able to call him again everyday.

The one area that seems to be a problem right now is that grandpa is very weak, and he has tremendous pain in his knee from arthritis, so he's not doing his physical therapy. And if he doesn't do that, he won't be on his feet any time soon, which means he won't go home. He's getting a cortisone shot today, so hopefully that will help.

Third, I'm very excited about the new Beth Moore Bible study, "Stepping Up: a Journey Through the Psalms of Ascent." I'm going to lead it this summer at our church. I have not delved greatly into the Psalms, and I'm making myself wait to look over the material until closer to the date we start. Otherwise, I might spend a whole day doing nothing but that study, and my family needs to eat sometime.

Plus, I need to prepare for Vacation Bible School first. It's the week before the Beth Moore study starts. It's best that I pace myself.

Fourth, since I've already plugged one of my favorite Christian women, I'll do the same for another. Karen Kingsbury. I just finished her latest book, "Someday". Super, as always. I can't say enough good things about this author. Her books are so realistic, the characters become your friends (but not in the strange way that you might actually talk to them when nobody is watching. I do think about them for days after finishing a book though.). Kingsbury puts in the perfect dose of faith. It's realistic and inspiring without being preachy. If you haven't read any of her books, start with the first book in the Redemption series, which is called "Redemption".

Fifth, right now I'm reading "THR3E" by Ted Dekker. Bruce said, "That doesn't seem like your typical read." And he's right. I actually bought the book for him, but he's too busy right now with school reading to read for pleasure. I like to shake myself up a bit on occasion, and this author was recommended by some of my favorite authors. I'm thinking this will be more like a Frank Peretti book, but I'm not far enough into it to tell yet. (When I was a new Christian, I read several books by Peretti and they are eye opening in regards to spiritual warfare.)

Okay, there's still more stuff floating around up there in my head, but it's time to get this day started, so it's off the computer I go.