My mother-in-law just called to tell me about the following, which I took off of Steven Curtis Chapman's official site.
MARIA SUE CHAPMAN, DAUGHTER OF STEVEN CURTIS CHAPMAN, DIES IN ACCIDENT AT FAMILY HOME
NASHVILLE, TN...5/21/08... At approximately 5pm on the afternoon of Wednesday May 21st, Maria Sue Chapman, 5 years old and the youngest daughter to Steven and Mary Beth Chapman was struck in the driveway of the Chapman home in Franklin, TN. Maria was rushed to Vanderbilt Childrens Hospital in Nashville, transported by LifeFlight, but died of her injuries there. Maria is one of the close knit family’s six children and one of their three adopted daughters.
Please be in prayer for this family, especially for the Chapman's teenage son, who was driving the vehicle that struck his little sister, according to our local newspaper.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Thankful Thursday - Birthdays
This week is special to me because three of my favorite people have birthdays back-to-back.
My grandpa turns 90 tomorrow. He's had a hard time with his health in the last couple of months, but he's on the mend. And I'm quite sure that "The Widow Woman" down the street will probably be making him a white cake with white icing sprinkled with coconut. It's his favorite, and The Widow Woman, as my grandpa lovingly refers to our family friend, has made them for him nearly every year since my grandma died 15 years ago.
My husband will be 35 on Saturday. I always love it after Bruce turns a year older each year. Because I'm older than him. And from May to October it sounds like I'm only three years older and not four. It's selfish vanity, but those five months are always a good time to ask me how old we are. We don't have big plans for his birthday, because he has already received his gifts over the last couple of months. But he will certainly have a homemade devil's food cake with cream cheese frosting after supper.
And on Sunday, my dear friend JoElla turns 40. She might not like me broadcasting that, but she shouldn't care, because she doesn't look old. In fact, she's gorgeous. So all you church buddies... wish her a happy birthday on Sunday and really freak her out that her secret is out.
The year I turned 30 I lamented the age increase. Until one very wise co-worker said of growing older, "It's better than the alternative." Why, yes. Yes it is.
I'm thankful for another year with these special people.
Job 14:5
"Man's days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed." (NIV)
Psalm 90:12
"Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." (NIV)
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Woo-Hoo!
Last night, we had us some excitement. And it was good. And it centered around the baseball field.
I think my disdain for baseball is slowly fading. It's amazing how that happens the second your kid does well.
Clay continues to strike out at bat. I hate it for him, but we don't discuss it at length. He's a sensitive boy, and I'd rather he beat himself up over grades or behavioral issues than a ball game, if he's going to beat himself up about anything. And he will. He knows without me telling him when he's done well and when he hasn't.
Last night he did well. In fact, he won the game ball. He strutted off that field like a peacock with its colorful garb in full bloom. I thought it was for my benefit, but I was wrong.
"Where's Spencer?" he asked.
Realization dawned quickly. It was important to him to show his younger brother, who won a game ball last week, that he could do it, too.
The play that won him the game ball came when a slugger got up to bat and hit that ball hard and fast toward the outfield, where Clay has consistently played all season. He held his glove in the air and stretched his body as long as it would go and the ball practically fell into Clay's glove. In a split second I saw him look into his glove to double check that he had, in fact, caught the ball. Still there!
I am normally a very reserved parent at the fields. And it doesn't matter if my kid is doing great in the sport he loves or if he has more interest in the dirt and grass on the field than the game. It's not my style to bellow and draw attention to myself. However...
I jumped up and yelled, "That's my boy!" I felt a few tears, too.
Stupid game. How dare the game I disliked so much a few weeks ago nearly bring me to tears in public. Stupid game.
Aww, but that's my boy!
To celebrate, we got some fast food on the way home. But not just any fast food. We got Burger King.
And that holds absolutely no significance for your average person, but for me, it was a monumental occasion. I had not eaten at Burger King for about nine years. In that time, if I was really hungry but BK was the only fast food restaurant around, I had been known to remain hungry and pass it by.
I got an awful case of food poisoning from a Burger King in Texas a long time ago. No gory details will be served up here, except to say that I've had bouts of strep throat and the flu that were more pleasant. And when it comes to food and illnesses, I have a memory like an elephant (for all other important matters, my memory serves more like a sieve.).
But the kids were begging for Burger King. Because Bruce took them there a few weeks ago. I'm sure he knew it would come back to bite me later. He's a bad man!
I looked at Clay and said, "For you, buddy. I'll do it for you."
So far, so good. No signs of a meal replay in reverse. What goes down, thankfully, has not come back up.
I'm softening in my old age. Baseball and Burger King warm fuzzies all in one night. Times they are a changing in our household.
I think my disdain for baseball is slowly fading. It's amazing how that happens the second your kid does well.
Clay continues to strike out at bat. I hate it for him, but we don't discuss it at length. He's a sensitive boy, and I'd rather he beat himself up over grades or behavioral issues than a ball game, if he's going to beat himself up about anything. And he will. He knows without me telling him when he's done well and when he hasn't.
Last night he did well. In fact, he won the game ball. He strutted off that field like a peacock with its colorful garb in full bloom. I thought it was for my benefit, but I was wrong.
"Where's Spencer?" he asked.
Realization dawned quickly. It was important to him to show his younger brother, who won a game ball last week, that he could do it, too.
The play that won him the game ball came when a slugger got up to bat and hit that ball hard and fast toward the outfield, where Clay has consistently played all season. He held his glove in the air and stretched his body as long as it would go and the ball practically fell into Clay's glove. In a split second I saw him look into his glove to double check that he had, in fact, caught the ball. Still there!
I am normally a very reserved parent at the fields. And it doesn't matter if my kid is doing great in the sport he loves or if he has more interest in the dirt and grass on the field than the game. It's not my style to bellow and draw attention to myself. However...
I jumped up and yelled, "That's my boy!" I felt a few tears, too.
Stupid game. How dare the game I disliked so much a few weeks ago nearly bring me to tears in public. Stupid game.
Aww, but that's my boy!
To celebrate, we got some fast food on the way home. But not just any fast food. We got Burger King.
And that holds absolutely no significance for your average person, but for me, it was a monumental occasion. I had not eaten at Burger King for about nine years. In that time, if I was really hungry but BK was the only fast food restaurant around, I had been known to remain hungry and pass it by.
I got an awful case of food poisoning from a Burger King in Texas a long time ago. No gory details will be served up here, except to say that I've had bouts of strep throat and the flu that were more pleasant. And when it comes to food and illnesses, I have a memory like an elephant (for all other important matters, my memory serves more like a sieve.).
But the kids were begging for Burger King. Because Bruce took them there a few weeks ago. I'm sure he knew it would come back to bite me later. He's a bad man!
I looked at Clay and said, "For you, buddy. I'll do it for you."
So far, so good. No signs of a meal replay in reverse. What goes down, thankfully, has not come back up.
I'm softening in my old age. Baseball and Burger King warm fuzzies all in one night. Times they are a changing in our household.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Ten on Tuesday - 10 Movies
Today's Ten on Tuesday list is "10 Movies You’re Excited to See".
This is not a great list for me. I used to be a big time movie-goer, but now I am far more selective about what I watch. And more often than not, any movies we watch are rented and not on the big screen in a theater.
I also generally go to Focus on the Family's movie review site here before seeing a movie, especially one I plan for my kids to watch. We've steered clear of a few thanks to those reviews.
Here are a few I'd like to see, although most are already on video.
10. 27 Dresses
9. Nim's Island (with the kids)
8. Night at the Museum (with the kids)
7. Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed (the documentary hosted by Ben Stein)
6. Thr3e (because I finally finished the book and wonder how Hollywood portrayed it)
5. The Last Sineater (also read the book and would like to compare the movie)
4. Baby Mama
3. The Bucket List (because I am a huge fan of Morgan Freeman's)
2. The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (I bought it but have yet to watch it)
1. The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (although I don't understand why this one was made into a movie. The kids and I are currently listening on audio CDs to the fifth of the six chronicles, and Prince Caspian was my least favorite so far)
To see other people's lists, go here.
Comment here and tell me your 10. Or post your 10 and comment to tell me to check your blog out. Happy video viewing!
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Hear Ye, Hear Ye!
I'll probably ramble a bit before I announce the winner of my blog giveaway for the Karen Kingsbury books. Hold on to your hats. It's going to be a bumpy ride!
Please say a quick prayer for my husband. He is traveling home from Bike Week in Myrtle Beach today. The weather is supposed to be a bit yucky in our corner of Tennessee. I'm not sure about the weather in the other states he'll pass through.
One mixed blessing from his trip... he took our point-and-shoot digital camera. And then didn't shut his storage bag properly. So somewhere on a road in South Carolina lies my camera. Actually, it probably got pilfered before it laid there long. Bruce said he went back to the road where he likely lost it and he and his crew searched for it to no avail. He said it was a rough area and they figured someone snatched it right up.
Well, a big HA-HA to them. That thing was on its last leg. For the last couple of weeks, every time I'd plug a new batch of batteries in, I'd get maybe four shots before it just croaked.
It's just proof that crime doesn't pay. I picture the prospective thief being every bit as frustrated with that camera as I was.
When Bruce gets home, he'll start surfing the net for a new camera... for me. The big, beefy camera is more Bruce's speed. I really thought I'd get into it, but I'm a more impulsive person. I need an impulsive camera. Anybody have one they love that they'd like to recommend?
Next topic. My favorite. Baseball. (I'm rolling my eyes. It's not my favorite topic. Not by a long shot!)
My boys have improved so much these last few weeks. Spencer's team does not keep score, but after every game he runs up to me and says, "Mom, my team won!" That's just typical Spencer.
I noticed a huge difference between him and Clay at yesterday's games. Clay was already on his field, and Spencer was eager to get to his, but I didn't see his coach yet. After a few other players on his team made their way over to the field, I told Spencer I'd walk him over there. We got about half way there and I said, "Go on, buddy. You can run the rest of the way to the dugout."
And he did. Without looking back. I saw him pause once he got in the middle of the field, wondering which dugout was his team's, but without ever looking my way, he shifted in the correct direction and skipped the rest of the way.
Clay would never have done that at that age. Maybe not even now.
No, he'd have made sure I walked with him all the way to the dugout. And forget being in the middle of a field and having to choose where to go from there. He'd have paused and then looked backwards, toward me, and waited for me to get there to point him in the right direction.
And it's not because he's not bright. He's a near genius (and I'm not just bragging. He scares me sometimes he's so smart!). Clay is just far more timid than Spencer. Spencer is all spit and vinegar. It always strikes me as funny that our younger son is more pluck than our older one. But Spencer wears off on Clay, too, and I notice that Clay gets more gumption when he sees that Spencer goes off half-cocked.
Enough about that.
My in-laws came to yesterday's games. Before the boys and I went to the ball fields, Roy and Sharon picked up Allison at our house and took her to breakfast at Cracker Barrel. Nice break for my girlie, who has certainly put in her fair share of time at the ball fields this year.
They arrived at the fields right as my boys' teams started their games. Good thing that their fields were side-by-side so I could watch both games at the same time. Well, that was the idea anyway. But I missed both boys in action because Allison needed two potty breaks.
And Clay actually hit the ball and ran all the way to third base. I realize that sounds like pitiful little to some of you with kids who've been playing forever, but remember... this is not Clay's sport of choice. And up until about two weeks ago, he fussed like crazy every time we went to a game. Since then, he's been practicing in our yard of his own volition with his daddy.
Batting has become something he fears thanks to a minor injury a couple of weeks ago. Still, I think he might actually be enjoying himself. And he might even want to do baseball again next year.
Doggone it!
Okay, now. The winner of the two Karen Kingsbury books ("Maggie's Miracle" and "Gideon's Gift") is...
Cheryl. My Miss Allison drew Cheryl's name from the bunch.
I wish I could climb right into the box I mail the books in so that I could visit with Cheryl in person. She has been a fun and insightful blessing to me in this wonderland of Bloggyville.
I hope you enjoy the books, Cheryl! Love ya!
Thanks to everyone who played and shared their woes of unfinished projects in their homes. I feel much better knowing I'm in good company.
Please say a quick prayer for my husband. He is traveling home from Bike Week in Myrtle Beach today. The weather is supposed to be a bit yucky in our corner of Tennessee. I'm not sure about the weather in the other states he'll pass through.
One mixed blessing from his trip... he took our point-and-shoot digital camera. And then didn't shut his storage bag properly. So somewhere on a road in South Carolina lies my camera. Actually, it probably got pilfered before it laid there long. Bruce said he went back to the road where he likely lost it and he and his crew searched for it to no avail. He said it was a rough area and they figured someone snatched it right up.
Well, a big HA-HA to them. That thing was on its last leg. For the last couple of weeks, every time I'd plug a new batch of batteries in, I'd get maybe four shots before it just croaked.
It's just proof that crime doesn't pay. I picture the prospective thief being every bit as frustrated with that camera as I was.
When Bruce gets home, he'll start surfing the net for a new camera... for me. The big, beefy camera is more Bruce's speed. I really thought I'd get into it, but I'm a more impulsive person. I need an impulsive camera. Anybody have one they love that they'd like to recommend?
Next topic. My favorite. Baseball. (I'm rolling my eyes. It's not my favorite topic. Not by a long shot!)
My boys have improved so much these last few weeks. Spencer's team does not keep score, but after every game he runs up to me and says, "Mom, my team won!" That's just typical Spencer.
I noticed a huge difference between him and Clay at yesterday's games. Clay was already on his field, and Spencer was eager to get to his, but I didn't see his coach yet. After a few other players on his team made their way over to the field, I told Spencer I'd walk him over there. We got about half way there and I said, "Go on, buddy. You can run the rest of the way to the dugout."
And he did. Without looking back. I saw him pause once he got in the middle of the field, wondering which dugout was his team's, but without ever looking my way, he shifted in the correct direction and skipped the rest of the way.
Clay would never have done that at that age. Maybe not even now.
No, he'd have made sure I walked with him all the way to the dugout. And forget being in the middle of a field and having to choose where to go from there. He'd have paused and then looked backwards, toward me, and waited for me to get there to point him in the right direction.
And it's not because he's not bright. He's a near genius (and I'm not just bragging. He scares me sometimes he's so smart!). Clay is just far more timid than Spencer. Spencer is all spit and vinegar. It always strikes me as funny that our younger son is more pluck than our older one. But Spencer wears off on Clay, too, and I notice that Clay gets more gumption when he sees that Spencer goes off half-cocked.
Enough about that.
My in-laws came to yesterday's games. Before the boys and I went to the ball fields, Roy and Sharon picked up Allison at our house and took her to breakfast at Cracker Barrel. Nice break for my girlie, who has certainly put in her fair share of time at the ball fields this year.
They arrived at the fields right as my boys' teams started their games. Good thing that their fields were side-by-side so I could watch both games at the same time. Well, that was the idea anyway. But I missed both boys in action because Allison needed two potty breaks.
And Clay actually hit the ball and ran all the way to third base. I realize that sounds like pitiful little to some of you with kids who've been playing forever, but remember... this is not Clay's sport of choice. And up until about two weeks ago, he fussed like crazy every time we went to a game. Since then, he's been practicing in our yard of his own volition with his daddy.
Batting has become something he fears thanks to a minor injury a couple of weeks ago. Still, I think he might actually be enjoying himself. And he might even want to do baseball again next year.
Doggone it!
Okay, now. The winner of the two Karen Kingsbury books ("Maggie's Miracle" and "Gideon's Gift") is...
Cheryl. My Miss Allison drew Cheryl's name from the bunch.
I wish I could climb right into the box I mail the books in so that I could visit with Cheryl in person. She has been a fun and insightful blessing to me in this wonderland of Bloggyville.
I hope you enjoy the books, Cheryl! Love ya!
Thanks to everyone who played and shared their woes of unfinished projects in their homes. I feel much better knowing I'm in good company.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Saturday Singing - Give It All Away
I love this song by Aaron Shust. It just reminds me that God loved me first. Before I claimed Jesus as Savior. When I was my most unlovable, He gave all for me.
To turn over my life to Him is an act of worship. All my plans, all my dreams, all my time, all that's mine... it's all really His.
"Give It All Away"
Friday, May 16, 2008
OCD Friends... Unite!
I had to do this quiz. Not because I think I'm all that obsessive, but I have friends who are.
I won't name you guys... you know who you are! But you owe it to yourselves to take the quiz and have a way to quantify your level of obsessiveness.
Don't forget... time is running out to join my little blog giveaway. Go here to learn more.
I won't name you guys... you know who you are! But you owe it to yourselves to take the quiz and have a way to quantify your level of obsessiveness.
You Are 36% Obsessive |
 You tend to have a few obsessive thoughts, but you generally have them under control. Sometimes your worries keep you up at night, though they usually don't interfere with your life. |
Don't forget... time is running out to join my little blog giveaway. Go here to learn more.
Crackpot Kids
My children cracked me up yesterday. And that’s so nice, considering Bruce is gone on a manly-man trip with all his biker buds from work to Myrtle Beach for Bike Week.
I’ll just bask in the sunshine of my children’s humor, and blog it so that when Bruce gets home and reads it, he’ll be so jealous that he missed it. Nah, I’ll never last that long. The very next time he calls I’ll spill all.
Spencer started it off shortly after lunch. He claimed he was still hungry. Well, I’m of the mind that you eat ‘til you’re full at meal time and then you eat again at the next meal time. I’m not a complete dictator… I let my kids have one healthy snack every day, between lunch and supper. I reminded Spencer of his need to wait until snack time, now that lunch time was passed. And he said it.
“Mom, when it’s snack time, can I have like three or four snacks? Because I’m really hungry and I think I’m going into hibernation.”
Cha-ching. My first laugh of the day.
A couple hours later, Allison walked up to me with a pouty look on her face. She wasn’t happy about something and I was about to discover what had gotten her in that state. She hiked up her nightgown (Yeah, it was after lunch. So what? Some days I’m still in my PJs after lunch, too. I know there are others out there like me. Forget that freaky Fly Lady and her suggestion to get dressed down to your shoes each morning. What. Ever.).
Back to Allison pulling her nightgown up. She flashed me a view of her panties. Only they weren’t panties. They were Spencer’s underwear. Well, I just spewed the laughter straight out. I shouldn’t have. She was disturbed by the fact that she was wearing boy’s underwear. Well, I didn’t put them on her. The child dresses herself, which makes it even funnier.
So I asked.
“Allison, why are you wearing Spencer’s underwear?”
And she answered. Vehemently.
“Well, I guess Spencer put his underwear in my panty drawer.”
And then she stomped her foot.
Well, that cracked me up more because I thought, "He put his drawers in her drawers. I just can't make this stuff up." But I got a grip and shrugged and said, “Go change them if it bothers you.”
It didn’t bother me. I wear her daddy’s boxers all the time.
Clay capped the day off nicely once he got home from school. I have no idea what movies some of his peers are watching, but nothing he said rang any bells with me from movies I’ve let him watch.
He was gyrating around, doing some kind of fight scene that only a mutant Ninja could love. And then he said, “I’ll fight for our garbledeegook.”
Huh? I could have sworn he said, “I’ll fight for our clothes.”
I asked. “What did you say, Clay?”
“I’ll fight for our claws,” he replied.
Okay, that makes more sense. But not really. One more time, I had to ask, “What are you saying?”
And he said, “I don’t know. I think it’s some kind of Iraqi word.”
Iraqi word? How would he know any Iraqi words?
Finally, I realized he was trying to say, “I’ll fight for our cause.” So I explained the whole thing to him.
But he wasn’t finished tickling my funny bone.
His make-believe fight scene continued. And the next thing I heard did me in completely.
“Freeze, you gum bags.”
I didn’t tell him about scum bags. I was laughing too hard.
But I better explain it soon before he tries that phrase out on the school bus or something. That just begs for exploitation by the neighborhood bully.
I’ll just bask in the sunshine of my children’s humor, and blog it so that when Bruce gets home and reads it, he’ll be so jealous that he missed it. Nah, I’ll never last that long. The very next time he calls I’ll spill all.
Spencer started it off shortly after lunch. He claimed he was still hungry. Well, I’m of the mind that you eat ‘til you’re full at meal time and then you eat again at the next meal time. I’m not a complete dictator… I let my kids have one healthy snack every day, between lunch and supper. I reminded Spencer of his need to wait until snack time, now that lunch time was passed. And he said it.
“Mom, when it’s snack time, can I have like three or four snacks? Because I’m really hungry and I think I’m going into hibernation.”
Cha-ching. My first laugh of the day.
A couple hours later, Allison walked up to me with a pouty look on her face. She wasn’t happy about something and I was about to discover what had gotten her in that state. She hiked up her nightgown (Yeah, it was after lunch. So what? Some days I’m still in my PJs after lunch, too. I know there are others out there like me. Forget that freaky Fly Lady and her suggestion to get dressed down to your shoes each morning. What. Ever.).
Back to Allison pulling her nightgown up. She flashed me a view of her panties. Only they weren’t panties. They were Spencer’s underwear. Well, I just spewed the laughter straight out. I shouldn’t have. She was disturbed by the fact that she was wearing boy’s underwear. Well, I didn’t put them on her. The child dresses herself, which makes it even funnier.
So I asked.
“Allison, why are you wearing Spencer’s underwear?”
And she answered. Vehemently.
“Well, I guess Spencer put his underwear in my panty drawer.”
And then she stomped her foot.
Well, that cracked me up more because I thought, "He put his drawers in her drawers. I just can't make this stuff up." But I got a grip and shrugged and said, “Go change them if it bothers you.”
It didn’t bother me. I wear her daddy’s boxers all the time.
Clay capped the day off nicely once he got home from school. I have no idea what movies some of his peers are watching, but nothing he said rang any bells with me from movies I’ve let him watch.
He was gyrating around, doing some kind of fight scene that only a mutant Ninja could love. And then he said, “I’ll fight for our garbledeegook.”
Huh? I could have sworn he said, “I’ll fight for our clothes.”
I asked. “What did you say, Clay?”
“I’ll fight for our claws,” he replied.
Okay, that makes more sense. But not really. One more time, I had to ask, “What are you saying?”
And he said, “I don’t know. I think it’s some kind of Iraqi word.”
Iraqi word? How would he know any Iraqi words?
Finally, I realized he was trying to say, “I’ll fight for our cause.” So I explained the whole thing to him.
But he wasn’t finished tickling my funny bone.
His make-believe fight scene continued. And the next thing I heard did me in completely.
“Freeze, you gum bags.”
I didn’t tell him about scum bags. I was laughing too hard.
But I better explain it soon before he tries that phrase out on the school bus or something. That just begs for exploitation by the neighborhood bully.
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