Bed Shopping

My grand plans to scrub the house from top to bottom were sidetracked yesterday by a relapse with Spencer. Pool little guy is just sick of being sick.

Today is going to be a better day, though. You know how I know? Because I had chocolate cake for breakfast. (I waited until the kids were done eating and had gone upstairs to play, because I didn't want to model poor food choices.) You can't have a bad day when it starts with chocolate cake.

I truly believe Spencer is done now.

But I get to re-bleach one bathroom, re-change out his toothbrush (I'm waiting one more day for that!), and wash another load of laundry. But on the bright side... he got sick that final time before I ever mopped the kitchen floor, so I won't be repeating that little chore when I get to it in a minute.

I'm still keeping him home today though, so we haven't registered for our summer reading program at the library yet. After supper tonight when Bruce is on daddy duty I'll run out and get that done.

It just so happens that on the way to the library is a furniture store that is going out of business. I'm so hoping I can help them clear out some of their stock. Actually, just one bit of stock. I'm looking for a solid oak bed for Clay. Something like this, but in a twin size:

A couple years ago we tried to have our boys share Clay's bedroom and turn Spencer's room into a play room, so we got bunk beds. That just had "silly parent mistake" written all over it.

I have a great many additional gray hairs thanks to all the near mishaps of our kids falling off the top bunk, which they weren't even supposed to be on. Clay was the only one technically allowed up there and that was supposed to be only at bedtime. Hey, you may think I'm crazy (Bruce did), but when the manufacturers suggest that kids 6 and under could be at risk, I take them seriously.

My kids took them less seriously. Spencer in particular enjoyed the top bunk a little too much.

I had bought him one of those wooden popper guns at a craft fair... the kind where a cork pops out of the end when you fire it. Very nice little piece of someone's handiwork. The craftsman even had painted the butt and the tip of the gun a shiny fire-engine red.

One morning, Spencer spent a few moments standing on the top bunk while shooting the ceiling, trying his best to kill it and put it out of its misery. With each shot, a little bit more of our popcorn ceiling came off and landed on the bed (this would later be called "evidence"). When it became obvious that his foe was hardier than he expected, he took to beating it with the butt of the gun. And with each hit, a bit of the red paint from the gun rubbed off onto the ceiling.

Clay's ceiling over his bed now looks naked in spots. And it has a bad case of the measles.

We are slow parents though. It's probably just one more side effect from being sleep deprived. That's my hope.

Because within two weeks, those kids had pulled a blade off of Clay's ceiling fan. I never heard the real story. The steam coming from the top of my head and the fire shooting out of my eyeballs effectively shut my children's mouths to all truth. I'm guessing they tried to hang from the fan.

Evidently, you cannot match a blade from a 15-year-old ceiling fan at Lowe's or Home Depot, or even online for that matter.

The shared-room experiment ended. The bunks became simply two twin beds, divorced and sitting a room apart. Spencer went back to his own bedroom again. There was a doggone good reason that God blessed us with a four-bedroom home long before our twins were born, back when we planned to have only two kids.

But before I could replace Clay's ceiling fan, those little stinkers broke the ceiling fan over the bed in our bedroom. They habitually pulled the little metal link chain to start and stop and speed up our fan, and I think it just died. I feel like dying, too, when they constantly yank my chain.

We replaced our fan within a few weeks. Clay's waited for about a year.

All that was a couple years ago. Since then, we bought a large desk for Clay from my neighbor when she began the process of moving. Clay's room is crowded. And he needs a large bookshelf, which I'm hoping Santa Peepaw will make him for Christmas this year. So the bunks need to be bounced out of there and replaced with a single twin bed.

Don't you find it amazing that I can go from talking about my sick little guy to discussing shopping for a new bed? I'm talented that way. Maybe I'm a tad bipolar? I'll try to make it work for me.

You think if I hit the housecleaning while a manic stage kicks in, I'll get way more done? I'll let you know.

Bleach Mama

Today, I'm taking a break from blogging.

Because I'll be bleaching. Not my hair, but the house.

Isn't that what all good moms do following the scourge of illness in the home?

I think Spencer getting sick was God's way of reminding me that it has been awhile since I mopped. Because, you know, cleanliness is next to godliness.

It's time.

A Friend Indeed

Want to know who your real friends are? Just ask them to pray for you when you have a need.

Thanks to everyone who prayed for Spencer. He is much better... I think it was a combination of prayers and popsicles. God can use those red, white and blue Rocket Pops in a mighty way with a sick kiddo.

Here's another mark of a great friend. She'll speak the truth in love.

I'm thinking of a specific friend. And she'll string me up for writing this, but I'm brave.

We had big plans to head to Dollywood Sunday right after Sunday school with our friends the Duncans: Danny, Carolyn, Taylor and Tyler.

Carolyn's Sunday school class of older teen girls has combined with the younger teen girls in the class that JoElla and I teach for the next couple of months. I had bought doughnuts and Carolyn had bought OJ to celebrate some birthdays in our classes on Sunday, including JoElla's.

However, Saturday night is when Spencer started getting sick. I called and got Danny on the phone bright and early Sunday morning to tell him the news and ask if they could swing by our house on the way to church to pick up the doughnuts. I stayed home with Spencer and Bruce went on to church after sleeping in and skipping Sunday school following our sleepless night.

No problems. Carolyn even called later that evening to check on us. She's good like that.

This morning when Spencer was still very ill, I called her to ask her to pray for him. She knows he's a real light-weight and viral stuff hits him hard. I told her I'd call her later in the day to let her know how he was. We again had plans for tomorrow to sign up our kids at the library for the summer reading program.

After noon it was pretty certain Spencer had turned the corner and was doing so much better. I even let him go outside to play for a bit.

I called Carolyn to update her. While talking, I said something along the lines of what time we'd meet the next day to go to the library.

And without pausing one bit, she said, "Well, um, how about we wait until Wednesday?"

I said that wouldn't be a problem. But I wasn't getting it.

I went on, talking in oblivion, "We don't have anything going on that day, so that'd be fine. That'll give Spencer another day to rest up before we get him out."

And she paused only one second before saying, "Well, and he won't spread it to my kids... you know, if he's contagious."

DUH!

I'm normally the mom who over-reacts on the side of caution. I was just so excited to get some summer time fun with my friend that I forgot all about how my recovering Barf Boy could possibly share the cooties.

Sorry, Carolyn, for my short-sightedness.

After we got off the phone, I started laughing while thinking about it.

While my child's illness set her children up for the disappointment of not going to Dollywood together, she was the person I called this morning to pray for him.

And when I didn't even think of passing the gunk on to her children, she responded nicely, instead of shrieking, "Lady... are you nuts?! We don't want what you got. Stay away... for awhile. Please!"

What a friend!


"A friend loves at all times." Proverbs 17:17

Spencer is Sick Again

Please say a prayer for Spencer. He has some kind of stomach bug again and has been vomiting since about midnight Saturday.

He's pitiful. Crying for food, but crackers aren't staying down. Neither has water, ginger ale or Gatorade.

If this continues throughout the day, we may end up taking him to the doctor/hospital.

I'm not hyper stressed... yet. But it won't take much more.

The last time he went this long we had to hospitalize him overnight for IV fluids. For now, he's still hydrated enough to produce tears.

Thanks for your prayers!

Big Boy

...and I'm not talking about Shoney's.

Get it?? Huh? Huh?

Aww, forget it. If you don't remember the days when Shoney's had the Big Boy out front... you're too young. Or I'm too old. Or I'm just warped for mentioning it.

Yeah, I'm thinking the last one, too.

Right now, I'm thinking about my oldest son. Hence the Big Boy intro. I always drive Clay to school, but he usually rides the bus home. But I picked him up from school Friday... his last day before summer.

By now, we're already thick into our summer plans. Finishing up baseball games for the season, preparing for Vacation Bible School, making sure we have plenty of sunscreen for our upcoming swimming lessons, getting excited about Clay's approaching birthday party and picnicking in the park to celebrate Bruce's birthday yesterday.

I have to sidetrack here, because yesterday at the park, I ran into one of my favorite neighbors. I saw her from behind first, and didn't realize it was her. I was too busy admiring her haircut. Then she turned around and I realized it was Jennifer.

She cracked me up when she told me she's been reading this blog. I had to ask her how she even knew I blogged. She was blog surfing from one friend's blog to another and came across mine and didn't make the neighbor connection at first.

How crazy is that? (Hi, Jennifer. This is the blog entry I warned you about.)

Okay, back on track now.

As I drove Clay to school that last day of second grade, I asked him, "Are you excited about summer?"

He said yes. And I'm so impressed because I didn't even get the "DUH!" look that I think I might have earned by even asking such a rhetorical question.

But I chanced asking one more question. Because I like to push things that way.

"Are you a little excited already about third grade, too?"

And that sweet boy didn't hesitate before nodding and saying, "Yes."

I just love his thirst for knowledge and that he still finds school fun. I work very hard to make learning fun for our kids... and to keep them excited about the process. I think it's working. Spencer and Allison ask me every other day how many days until kindergarten starts.

But this post is about my big boy. When I picked up Clay on Friday, he jumped in the truck and his first comment was, "Mom, Mom! I got a 1 on self control!"

A 1 is a good thing. A 2 is a bad thing. He's had some 1-.

But he has worked so hard this year to overcome his impulsiveness, which leads to things like talking out in class when he should raise his hand. We've been encouraging him all year to step up to the plate and act more maturely. (Yes, I know he's only seven. But I constantly think back to the youth conference I chaperoned months ago where the speaker told the teenagers that they needed to be mature and stop being childish. We do our kids a disservice to allow too much silliness in places where maturity should be... I'm done now.)

I am so proud that his efforts have paid off in a way that he can see visibly. We knew he could do it.

Academically, he's great. He's reading on the level of a sixth grader in the first month of school.

His teacher sent home the following awards (this is for the grandparents, folks. Hit your snooze button otherwise):

-Best All Around Student
-Excellence in Reading, Math and Spelling
-Most Beautiful Handwriting
-Most Creative
-Best Paper Constructions & Creations
-Best Sense of Humor

That handwriting one... he worked for that! At the beginning of the year, he was throwing down some chicken scratch for writing. I told him if his teacher can't read it, she was going to mark it wrong, even if he had the right answer. Well, that bugged him. He likes to be right. And when he's right, he wants people to know it. (He is Bruce made over!)

Then the class started working on cursive... which he learned in kindergarten when we homeschooled. All of a sudden, he was kicking out these beautiful loops and slants.

His teacher, Mrs. Smith, sent home the following note on the last day:

"Dear Clay,
I have really enjoyed having you in my class this year. You are so much fun Clay, and I really loved your creativity in the classroom. I believe you could make something out of anything. I appreciated you always doing your very best and being a good leader. You were such a great helper to me, too. You were one of our top AR readers. Keep reading. I hope you will read some BIG books this summer, full of adventure. I love you very much and I will miss you. I know I will hear great things about you in the future. Come and give me a hug anytime. Have a wonderful summer."

Now, how could you not love a woman who writes that about your kid? Well, no problemo there. We love her!

And while my Clay is more like me about handing out hugs, I know she'll get one probably the first day of the school year next fall. I may even have to hunt her down myself!

Multiplication tables... here we come!!

Baseball Love

I am hoarse.

From cheering at today's baseball games. I lost all self control. One notch higher and I might have embarrassed my kids. Bruce even told me to tone it down a bit, because I was distracting Clay.

He mentioned that more than once. Probably because I didn't listen to him.

You have to know the history. And I'm not talking about all the smack talk I've given the sport of baseball in the last few weeks on this very blog. (That's not history. I'm sure I'll repeat it again next year.)

No, I mean immediate history. After Clay's game Friday night, as we were walking to the truck, he told me, "Tomorrow we play the Rockies. That's Parker's team. They're the only team to beat us this year."

Parker used to go to our church. He and Clay go to the same school and were born one day apart nearly eight years ago.

Parker is athletic.

Very. Athletic.

And his parents are rabid baseball fans. His grandparents are, too. (I'm writing that knowing that they'll see it. They can't deny it! Daddy Don coaches the Rockies, and I heard Momma Amie cheering louder than me. And I'm pretty sure I've seen those grandparents at every game... so there!)

This is a word picture of Clay. Taken from today's game. During three different times that he was in the outfield, he spoke directly to me. (Spencer was also playing today, so I stood in my spot between the fields so I could cheer for both boys.)

Here's Clay's first statement: "Mom, I heard June bugs. They're coming back."

His second statement: "There is a nest in the dugout."

His third statement was also not remotely related to baseball. By this time of the game, he was hot and sweaty and had taken his hat off his head. "Mom, I think I have head lice."

He scratched his head for emphasis.

I'm sure every other parent on his team who overheard was thrilled that my son was sharing batting helmets with their son.

He does not have head lice.

He does have issues with focus. A lack thereof.

It was a great game. That is the highest praise you'll get from me about baseball. Each team's score went back and forth the whole time. For a bit the Rockies would be winning, and then the Rangers would pull ahead for awhile.

The teams were well matched. Both teams are coached by men who love the sport, teach the sport, and love the kids. Both teams as a group know what to do and when to do it. The Rockies are the only other team that I've noticed this season stealing bases, aside from Clay's team.

Finally, the last inning. Clay came up to bat with two other players on bases. The Rockies' score was 9; the Rangers had 8. There was already one out, and all I could think was, "Thank you, Jesus, that my son does not have this whole game on his shoulders right now."

Because he has consistently struck out every time he's been at bat the last several times.

And he did it again at that moment. Again, I was crushed for him.

I rebounded quickly as his teammate came up to bat. All pressure was on that child, a great kid. He is, however, several pounds overweight and runs slowly because of it. He has struggled all season long to make it to first base after he hits the ball. But he does hit the ball. And with other boys on base, who cares if he can make it to first base? He just needed to hit the ball.

He went up to bat and quickly got two strikes. I think he was just milking the crowd, but what do I know?

Next, he hit the ball. And he did make it to first base. And he also got his other teammates to home.

The final score was Rangers - 10, Rockies - 9. I've never seen Clay's team so excited.

On the way back to the truck, I noticed a Rockies player giving Clay a really dirty look. I felt bad for him. Because they played great! So I told him so. His look didn't soften any, but his mother's did.

Now, for a bit on my other two children.

Spencer has taken to sliding into home base. Only his timing is off. He runs over the base, is technically home, and then starts his slide a couple feet past the base. It's a riot.

He picks himself up from the dust, checks the damage to his uniform, sports a self-satisfied smile and struts back to the dugout. He dusts himself off only after he is in the dugout.

That kid is crazy funny.

Allison has an admirer.

Bruce walked over to Clay's team's dugout at one point in the game, and Allison followed him. A teammate of Clay's piped up with, "How old is she?" Clay told him five. Then Mr.-Eight-Year-Old said, "She's pretty."

My thoughts?



Wrong game obviously, but it's apparent to me that Clay is not the only person on his team who lacks focus.

So I gave our sons a talk about their sister when we got home.

Because this is what I heard after dropping Clay off at school one morning this week. (Listen to it. It's short.)

Great stuff!

I told my sons that as Allison gets older, any boy who shows an interest in her should know they have to get through three men to have a chance to date her... her brothers and her daddy.

She already thinks she is a princess. A boy should be ready to treat her that way.

I'm just saying.

Saturday Singing - For the Chapman Family

I had another song picked for this week's Sings My Soul Saturday, but the family of Steven Curtis Chapman has been so much on my heart, I'm switching. Please continue to pray for the family after the loss of their young daughter in such a tragic manner.

Just a few of his songs that have ministered to me throughout the years, and their meanings to me.

This first one is one of the first SCC songs I remember from my years as a newborn Christian. It was wonderful to me to hear someone sounding like it was fun to be saved. I never hear this one without jacking up the volume and making some noise along with it.




This one was sang at our wedding 14 years ago. I'm positive we're the only ones in American to ever have this sung for our nuptials. Because we are so original that way.




This one I included in a lesson that my great friend JoElla and I taught in our Sunday school class of 7th-8th grade girls. The lesson came from Vicki Courtney's study "His Girl" and that week we were discussing self worth. This song fit perfectly.




This one is my all-time favorite SCC song. We are free. We aren't slaves to sin anymore. Jesus came to give us life... in its most abundant, filled-to-the-rim-of-the-cup kind of way.



There are so many other Steven Curtis Chapman songs that have meant something to me at some point in my life. I just wanted to share these because they are so personal to me.

Successful Completion

On Tuesday, Bruce led the final Financial Peace University class at our church. I missed again, to take Clay to ballgame.

It has been a huge sacrifice for Bruce and me for him to teach this class. He already is MIA on Thursdays while he works toward his master's degree, so one more night away from home has been hard on him. And while I originally attended each session, this last month has been more about baseball for me and the kids than finances. And taking all three to the ball fields without Bruce is not always a joy.

Bruce was so excited after coming home Tuesday evening. He told me the numbers. The whole class had dropped an average of nearly $20,000 of debt. One couple from our church is completely out of debt... and I anticipate for this couple that their next step will be toward purchasing a home since they've been apartment dwellers for years.

Two other couples from church are working the FPU system with a vengeance. I know personally because I've seen it in action. I told Bruce the other night that the Hite and Allen women put me to serious shame when we went to the women's conference together a few weeks ago. Cash only, at every meal. (Way to go, girls!) I shamefully whipped out our debit card a couple times.

There are two other couples from our church who, in my mind, are newlyweds still because they've been married less than or nearly five years. When Dave Ramsey talks about gazelle-like intensity, it fits these two couples to a tee. I think about the legacy they'll pass on to their kids, which is another thing Dave points out early in the lessons.

The past 13 weeks have been worth it. For them and for us.

It's made an impression on our family, too. And I don't mean simply a financial one.

The other day, Spencer told me he was going to be a policeman when he grows up. Because "they know so much" (tell Kevin that one, Christy!). And in his spare time, Spencer plans to go to the swimming pool a lot.

And he wants to teach Financial Peace on the side.

If they can just get an understanding of money and its proper place early in life, what a blessing that will be.