What a Girl Wants...

...what a girl needs...

...is to have her nails done.

In the great shade of Rock N Red.

Favorite Movies

Everything has changed on our computer! I'm frustrated with change.

I'm sure my tech guy (Bruce) is tired of daily hearing about some new glitch that I've found in the computer that wasn't there before The Great Crash a few weeks ago. But bit by bit, my tech guy gets things back up and running, explaining to me along the way how to work anything new.

Right now I'm still waiting for my printer to be linked back up. And I can't download pictures yet from our camera to the computer.

So I can't post about our most recent camping trip. I'll do that in a few days.

But I found this on another blogger's site and liked the idea.



RULES:
1. Pick 15 favorite movies that you have seen.
2. Go to IMDb and find a quote from each movie.
3. Post the quote for everyone to guess the movie from which it originates.
4. Post the movie's title once someone guesses correctly, and post the name of who guessed it.

I'm not sure I have enough people reading this blog for this to work, but play along if you wish. Here are my quotes:

1. "Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies."

2. "Certainty of death, small chance of success... What are we waiting for?"

3. "Sometimes, I guess there just aren't enough rocks."

4. "Mostly I'm tired of people being ugly to each other. I'm tired of all the pain I feel and hear in the world everyday. There's too much of it. It's like pieces of glass in my head all the time."

5. "You think cooking is a cute job, eh? Like Mommy in the kitchen? Well, Mommy never had to face the dinner rush while the orders come flooding in, and every dish is different and none are simple, and all different cooking time, but must arrive at the customer's table at exactly the same time, hot and perfect! Every second counts and you CANNOT be MOMMY!"

6. "My teacher tells me beauty is on the inside." "That's just something ugly people say."

7. "It was a lot different from hugging. Hugging's very different. Hugging, that involves arms and hands; and leaning is whole bodies moving in like this
[leans suggestively]. Leaning involves wanting... and accepting. Leaning..."

8. "The question isn't 'What are we going to do,' the question is 'What aren't we going to do?'"

9. "What do they teach in schools these days?"

10. "The truth is complicated."

11. "Somewhere, some lucky guy's having a heart attack."

12. "I am no one special. Just a common man with common thoughts. I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but in one respect I've succeeded as gloriously as anyone who ever lived. I've loved another with all my heart and soul and for me that has always been enough."

13. "Did you know how bad things were for me? No, because you wouldn't even open my letters. If you had even answered one, just one! Told me what a jerk I was, anything! But you didn't. You took your friendship away without even discussing it with me. So, thank you very much for forgiving me. But I don't forgive you."

14. "I'm not crazy, I've just been in a very bad mood for the last 40 years!"

15. "If you want me to hate her, I will."

Dead to the Modern World

My access to any technology has been severely limited for the past couple of weeks.

Our computer crashed. And Bruce determined we needed a new hard drive, which was ordered quickly.

But this happened within days of when we received our latest telephone bill, in which the phone company insisted we cough up an additional 10 dollars monthly for the services that we use. Important services. Things like call waiting, caller ID, along with long distance and international plans.

And with that, Camel Bruce's back broke.

For years, he has wanted to turn our land line off entirely and have us use solely our cell phones. But because my mom lives in Germany, I nixed that. Having an international calling plan put on our cell phones wouldn't have been less expensive. And I need to be able to call my mom on a whim.

But then along came Skype. And I found not only that I could call my mom for free on the computer but also that, after buying a nifty little camera that sits atop my screen, I can see my mom, live, while we speak.

So Bruce countered the phone company's demand to show them the money by cancelling everything off our land line. No international calling. No long distance calling. No call waiting. No caller ID.

And it's that last one I miss the most. Because, when I'm elbow deep in cleaning toilets, the last thing I want to hear on the other end when I pick up the phone with rubber gloves is a recording of a voice telling me about a "for a limited time only" offer to take advantage of lower interest rates on my credit card.

But to have the loss of my phone luxuries suspended within days of our computer dying... it's been tough. I've been thinking a lot of Laura Ingalls and the Little House on the Prairie lately.

No, really. I have. Because our electricity went off the other night, too. On the same night that "24" comes on. And "House".

So the kids went to bed when it got dark. Bruce and I lit candles that we placed on top of our mantel. We started a fire in the fireplace, and we read books for awhile. But it's hard to read by candlelight. So we went to bed early that night, too.

But not before both of us realized how quiet the house was without electricity. (After the kids fell asleep. It was quiet only then. Because before they conked out, they were all giggling while attempting to sleep together in Allison's room - Spencer, because he was scared; Clay, because the younger two needed him "so they wouldn't be scared".)

No phone luxuries. No e-mail, Facebook, or Blogger. And no light, TiVo, or "24". No microwave to pop popcorn even! And I had to park my van outside that evening when I got back from a meeting, because our electrical garage door opener was dead.

Life has been hard. (I thank the Lord that I was caught up on washing our laundry!)

But, that one night without electricity was nice, too. No computer moaning in the background. No dishwasher churning. No humidifier humming. No heat pump kicking on and off.

Just the fireplace crackling.

It was nice. For one night.

I'm glad the electricity was back on by the next morning. And I'm thankful that my husband, my computer genius, fixed our computer back to its previous glory.

I still miss caller ID.

And I probably always will.

Basketball In a Nutshell

The kids' season of Upwards basketball ended last Saturday. I haven't posted any pictures of basketball until now.

Here are several of my favorites.

This last one of Clay was taken late in the season. I think their last game. At half time, the puppet team from our church entertained the players. What cracks me up here, is that everyone else is looking off to the left, but Clay is still looking directly at the puppets to the right.



This was Spencer's first year to play Upwards basketball. And this sport was a huge hit with our second son. Finally, a setting in which he can burn off nearly all of his energy.









The little cutie sitting with Spencer below is our neighbor, Braeden. He and Spencer have become big buds in the last couple of months. It was wonderful that they were on the same team.



This shot was taken during one of the two games that Spencer and Allison played against each other. Spencer is trying to block Allison.



I didn't think to ask them to place our younger two on the same team at the beginning of the season, but it worked out great anyway. They both got to shine apart from one another.

This was Allison's first time to play basketball as well. Up until the very last minute of sign-up time, she switched back and forth between wanting to cheer and wanting to play. I'm so glad she decided to play. She can always cheer for football, but play basketball. Best of both worlds!

Allison is a worrywart on the court. If she messed up, she constantly did this:



And how could she play ball at her best, after all, when she had to contend with hair static?







The next two crack me up. Allison was passing to her sweet friend Jordan. Their faces are priceless.





We sign them up for spring soccer soon. But for the next two Saturdays, Bruce and I are sleeping in!

Just Call Me "The Enforcer"

We're in a pickle. A tight spot. Between a rock and hard place.

Clay is in class with a little guy who has it rough. He lives with his grandma, not his parents. He packs his lunch himself, according to Clay, which isn't a bad thing for a third grader. Except that he packs chips and candy. And then he doesn't eat even that at lunch time.

When mom was visiting over the holidays, we had lunch with Clay and this little guy sat across from us. And he didn't eat lunch that day either. He is a card. Over-the-top personality. Craving some major attention. Mom and I were actually a bit annoyed because it was hard to have any quality time with Clay with Jerry Lewis Jr. sitting at the table.

But since then, Clay has mentioned other things and my heart just goes out to this mini "Jerry". He was on Clay's Upwards basketball team, too, for the past two months. He's a sweet kid. He just isn't in an ideal situation.

I've met his grandmother, and she seems very nice. But a grandma raising a kid is very different than a younger parent raising a kid. I'm not sure I'd have it in me to spank my grandchild, whereas, I'm A-OK with spanking my kids when they get out of line.

We've been praying for "Jerry". And I asked Clay if he might want to invite him to ride the school bus home with him one Wednesday and then after supper he could go with Clay to Awanas. Clay seemed interested, but he kept forgetting to mention it to the other boy.

I found out through another parent the other night that Clay was going to be losing his play time at school the next day. This other parent has a daughter in Clay's class. Her daughter had told her that "Jerry" was rough-housing with Clay and when Clay told him to cut it out, they both got busted by the teacher.

So I asked Clay if he was really forgetting to ask the other boy if he wanted to come over or if he just didn't want to invite him. Ding, ding, ding! Two points for mother's intuition.

The other boy obviously wants to be friends with Clay, but he's going about it all wrong.

Tonight at bed time, Clay told me some more ways "Jerry" is really bugging him. It centered around lunchtime.

So I said, "I think it's time for you to maybe sit with someone else in the cafeteria."

He explained that "Jerry" is either waiting for him to sit first and then joining him, or he waits on Clay.

I asked if his teacher was aware of Clay's feelings. He said she was.

I'd been thinking of going another round of having lunch with each kid again on different days in the cafe, so I told Clay, "I'll just join you for lunch some time soon. Okay?"

And he said to me, "Good. That should take care of it."

I was thinking, "Really? You think just having me there is going to solve this long term?" But I didn't say anything.

Evidently Clay thinks I'm going to chew out this other boy.

Because then my son said, "But try not to break his heart, mom. He already doesn't get to live with his parents. Let's not make it worse on him."

I didn't laugh, but I promised him I'd "be good".

I feel for that other boy. I want to love on him and just make it all better. If only it were that easy.

I told Bruce when we first got married that one day I'd like to own a farm. Not to do any farming. But because when I was a kid I always brought home stray pets, and I figured, if we had a farm, I could just keep them all.

I'm over the pet thing.

But I get the same feeling when I see how hard some of my kids' classmates have it.

And how exactly do you show Jesus to someone when your son just really wants some distance from that person?

We're in a jam.

But we're still praying for him. Even Clay. Even though he's bugged by "Jerry".

Much Ado About the Mundane

Forewarning: this post is for my friend Kim, who said she was worried about me because we haven't talked a lot this past week. And she checked my blog and saw that I hadn't posted much. So she prayed for me. Because she figured my kids were sick.

My kids aren't sick. And nothing is wrong. We've just been busy. But at the same time, nothing really exciting is going on.

The kids haven't said anything particularly fun or silly for me to share. And since last week, I haven't had any Bible-upside-my-head moments either.

Still, this is for Kim (and anyone else who wants to slog through reading it.). A post about the little nothing things that can happen in a day.


I went to Wal-mart. All boring stories start at Wal-mart, don't they?

I was on a mission. To buy a birthday present for a soon-to-be 9-year-old boy. And I thought I might pick up a DVD of a yoga workout.

Not just any yoga workout though. I like to consider the source. I don't want some guru trying to fill my head with Zen junk. My mind doesn't need to be expanded. I'm more interested in becoming stretchier in some place other than the skin on my belly. Flexibility in my legs was my goal.

Did you know that Wal-mart no longer stocks exercise DVDs? Now what am I supposed to do when I feel guilty about not exercising, but I'm not quite ready to commit to the no-pain, no-gain philosophy? Passing that section made me feel like I was almost ready. And it sometimes kept me from buying Hot Tamales and Twizzlers during my bi-monthly grocery shopping.

I didn't have any luck in finding a birthday present for Clay's friend either. What do 9-year-old boys want? After searching through the toy section, I decided cash would work.

But I needed a card in which to place the cash. Coincidentally, I had a list of all extended family member birthdays in my pocket. I went to peruse the card aisles.

But today, three was not a charm. The "three strikes and you're out" theory was in full force today. No DVD. No birthday gift. And no decent birthday cards.

Birthday card writers irritate me. Maybe that's what I need to do when I go back to work. Foist myself upon Hallmark.

Every single card sounded like it was for some mythical perfect family.

"You are the best brother ever. I always wanted to be just like you."

"You are the sweetest niece ever. You just shine on others around you."

"You are the greatest sister-in-law ever. I couldn't have picked someone better myself."

Where are all the cards for people who deal in dysfunction? It is nearly painful to find a card that isn't chock-full of trite compliments.

So I bought a pack of blank cards. And I'm going to write my own cards.

They'll say something like this:

"Big brother, remember when you were going through that punching phase and my friends and teachers wondered if our parents were abusing me because of the bruises on my arms? Good times! I love you. Have a great birthday."

"Little brother, I'm so glad we've grown past the point of me locking you in our second-story kitchen and not letting you out until you drank the entire, full, carton of milk from which you had just sipped instead of pouring your drink in a glass like civilized people do. Have I ever apologized for almost making you puke? I love you. Have a happy birthday."

I can even do one for Bruce and his brothers.

"Isn't is wonderful that neither of us owns a cat for a pet after that time we decapitated the one who was so fast we couldn't shut the door quickly enough to keep him out... until that last attempt where we got it half right. Oh well. We're dog people anyway. Have a super birthday."

See. That's how a card should be written. It still has all the love. It's just more real.

That's right. When you care enough to send, if not the best, at least the most honest.

You can contact my agent if you'd like to hire me. (Um, I'm my own agent. Just so you know.)