1. Monthly "meetings" with friends that have scattered to different corners (schools) will end up being my most favorite nights. As soon as one meeting is over, I instantly look forward to the next one.
2. I can get a neck injury in my sleep. I.am.old.
3. When a toddler starts singing "I'm cleaning the bathroom, the bathroom, the bathroom....." Run. Fast. Bring lots of towels.
4. Wisdom comes in the least likely of places. "If the only purpose you have is to serve yourself, then you have no purpose.". This quote came from Paul Blart; Mall Cop #2. Clearly, I underestimated Paul Blart's heart.
5. Cold medicines that do not contain pseudoephedrine are pseudo-effective.
6. Coffee dates with new friends are super fun, but paying attention to table choice is advised with a toddler who has a overactive bladder.
7. Dang, almond paste is expensive.
8. You Tube had a ton of helpful tutorials. (I was aware of this already, but sometimes find myself amazed at just how much is out there.)
9. With enough phlegm and congestion, I can sound like Kathleen Turner.
10. Hats cover a myriad of hair woes. I need to invest in more hats.
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Monday, November 30, 2015
Not Me! Monday
My last Not Me! Monday post was amazingly therapeutic... and these kind of posts come to me faster than any others. I'm not sure what that says about me or my ability to jump on self-deprecating posts... but I'll just roll with the punches here:
Dave and I do not get out for one date every fall. We are totally a couple who are always socially active, and have the need to be seen everywhere. We would never combine our anniversary (September) and my birthday (October) AND his birthday (November) into one date. Not us! We are a pampered couple, and must have a date night at least once a week in order to feel connected. We always have an unlimited monthly budget for babysitters and social activities. And on that once-every-fall-date, we would NEVER combine it with parent/teacher conferences. Nope! Not us! We are not so cheap that we would only want to pay a sitter for one night rather than two. Heck no! And on this once-a-fall-date, I would not have stumbled on our way into the restaurant rendering my left foot immobile. Not me! I am always graceful, and would never struggle to stand upright on our once-a-fall date! Nothing says "sexy date night" like curriculum questions and a good solid limp.
I am always the epitome of planning ahead, and would never have to quick run to the grocery store when expecting a friend over within the hour. Nope! Not me! I always do all my shopping once a week after combing over our calendar and planning everything down to the most minute detail. And on the took-too-long-shopping-trip that never happened, I did not do the unthinkable and lock my toddler in the car with my keys. I would not have accidentally hit the "lock" button on the toggle while strapping her in the car seat. I would never close all the doors to the car before taking the cart to the back of the van to load our groceries. I would never yell through the window asking BabyL. to wiggle out of her seat only for her to realize she was strapped in too tight and start crying. I did not have to call my friend and ask her to go to my house to retrieve our back up toggle to unlock my doors. Nope! Not me! I am a fantastic hostess, and am always ready for my guests, and would never inconvenience my guests to help me and my distressed toddler. The following picture was never taken: (side note: thanks, Mel!)
Dave and I do not get out for one date every fall. We are totally a couple who are always socially active, and have the need to be seen everywhere. We would never combine our anniversary (September) and my birthday (October) AND his birthday (November) into one date. Not us! We are a pampered couple, and must have a date night at least once a week in order to feel connected. We always have an unlimited monthly budget for babysitters and social activities. And on that once-every-fall-date, we would NEVER combine it with parent/teacher conferences. Nope! Not us! We are not so cheap that we would only want to pay a sitter for one night rather than two. Heck no! And on this once-a-fall-date, I would not have stumbled on our way into the restaurant rendering my left foot immobile. Not me! I am always graceful, and would never struggle to stand upright on our once-a-fall date! Nothing says "sexy date night" like curriculum questions and a good solid limp.
I am always the epitome of planning ahead, and would never have to quick run to the grocery store when expecting a friend over within the hour. Nope! Not me! I always do all my shopping once a week after combing over our calendar and planning everything down to the most minute detail. And on the took-too-long-shopping-trip that never happened, I did not do the unthinkable and lock my toddler in the car with my keys. I would not have accidentally hit the "lock" button on the toggle while strapping her in the car seat. I would never close all the doors to the car before taking the cart to the back of the van to load our groceries. I would never yell through the window asking BabyL. to wiggle out of her seat only for her to realize she was strapped in too tight and start crying. I did not have to call my friend and ask her to go to my house to retrieve our back up toggle to unlock my doors. Nope! Not me! I am a fantastic hostess, and am always ready for my guests, and would never inconvenience my guests to help me and my distressed toddler. The following picture was never taken: (side note: thanks, Mel!)
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Counting Mine {414-426}
414. Easy birthday parties
415. Sleeping in
416. Salted caramel vodka and apple cider (don't judge)
417. A borrowed clothing steamer
418. The cuddly dog
419. Baby A. and how much my Baby L. loves him
420. Baby L's little friend Hadley, and how they shreek and hug every time they see each other.
421. The package coming in the mail at just the right time.
422. Shark week costumes
423. My mom- who spent a lot of time sewing for our costumes
424. For the good coffee
425. A long hot (uninterrupted!!!!!) shower.
426. For sweet Texan friends who send the PERFECT birthday gift.
415. Sleeping in
416. Salted caramel vodka and apple cider (don't judge)
417. A borrowed clothing steamer
418. The cuddly dog
419. Baby A. and how much my Baby L. loves him
420. Baby L's little friend Hadley, and how they shreek and hug every time they see each other.
421. The package coming in the mail at just the right time.
422. Shark week costumes
423. My mom- who spent a lot of time sewing for our costumes
424. For the good coffee
425. A long hot (uninterrupted!!!!!) shower.
426. For sweet Texan friends who send the PERFECT birthday gift.
Friday, October 23, 2015
Uncle Dick
It's been one week since my mom called to let me know that my Uncle Dick passed away.
There are so many different ways you could say it: died, took his last breath, expired, passed away, deceased, called Home. Either way, his earthly body is gone. And he leaves behind a legacy of family and some good memories.
He was my Father's eldest brother- older than my dad by 9 years. The first of FOUR Behm boys. (Oh, my grandmother.... not only raising four boys, but four BEHM boys).
One of my favorite memories of my uncle Dick was at Thanksgiving. All of my childhood Thanksgivings involves my uncle Dick, his wife Aunt Corrine, and all their kids- my four cousins (one boy, three girls- and their significant others). This tribe was together again on Christmas Eve as well.
One thing you'd understand -if you knew a Behm well- is that we're, by nature, button-pushers. Most Behms have harder shells, warmer insides, tend to be a what-you-see-is-what-you-get and are fiercely loyal... but we're also button pushers.
So, every Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve, I would get razzed. Sure enough, someone would start a conversation (usually Uncle Dick) with a twinkle in their eye and a sideways grin. I'd take the razzing with a grain of salt (crying shows weakness... just deal with it with a smile).... and eventually, they'd chuckle and move on to their next prey. I'd get a "you're all right" as they moved on... meaning I rolled with the punches. I could take the heat in stride.
But....
There was a Thanksgiving- I was 19. I was the prey...a few of the fellas were pushing buttons, and Uncle Dick was observing. And I threw it back. I pushed buttons in return and took the heat from me to them. It was probably one of my finest hours- where I learned the fine language of "sarcastic" and "snarky" and realized I could rule the conversation with them.
Uncle Dick's eyes got wide(er- he didn't have big eyes to being with), and chuckled to the fellas, "I guess she got you.... chuckle chuckle.".
That night, at dinner, Uncle Dick poured me my first glass of wine. My mom put up the token fuss saying "she's underage....", but he said "she's old enough for a glass with dinner."
I had arrived.
There are so many different ways you could say it: died, took his last breath, expired, passed away, deceased, called Home. Either way, his earthly body is gone. And he leaves behind a legacy of family and some good memories.
He was my Father's eldest brother- older than my dad by 9 years. The first of FOUR Behm boys. (Oh, my grandmother.... not only raising four boys, but four BEHM boys).
One of my favorite memories of my uncle Dick was at Thanksgiving. All of my childhood Thanksgivings involves my uncle Dick, his wife Aunt Corrine, and all their kids- my four cousins (one boy, three girls- and their significant others). This tribe was together again on Christmas Eve as well.
One thing you'd understand -if you knew a Behm well- is that we're, by nature, button-pushers. Most Behms have harder shells, warmer insides, tend to be a what-you-see-is-what-you-get and are fiercely loyal... but we're also button pushers.
So, every Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve, I would get razzed. Sure enough, someone would start a conversation (usually Uncle Dick) with a twinkle in their eye and a sideways grin. I'd take the razzing with a grain of salt (crying shows weakness... just deal with it with a smile).... and eventually, they'd chuckle and move on to their next prey. I'd get a "you're all right" as they moved on... meaning I rolled with the punches. I could take the heat in stride.
But....
There was a Thanksgiving- I was 19. I was the prey...a few of the fellas were pushing buttons, and Uncle Dick was observing. And I threw it back. I pushed buttons in return and took the heat from me to them. It was probably one of my finest hours- where I learned the fine language of "sarcastic" and "snarky" and realized I could rule the conversation with them.
Uncle Dick's eyes got wide(er- he didn't have big eyes to being with), and chuckled to the fellas, "I guess she got you.... chuckle chuckle.".
That night, at dinner, Uncle Dick poured me my first glass of wine. My mom put up the token fuss saying "she's underage....", but he said "she's old enough for a glass with dinner."
I had arrived.
And I knew I had because Uncle Dick said so.
Not in so many words, but with his actions.
Here's a few things I've always appreciated about my uncle:
- He had a great chuckle. All the BEHM boys do.
- He always purchased the most expensive thing on my Christmas list. I didn't realize this for some time, but one Thanksgiving night, he handed me the JCPenney catalog, and said, "don't hold back, now... you hear?". So, I wrote three or four things down, and then for grins I threw in a ventriloquist dummy that looked like Charlie Chaplin. It was a $50 doll. Wouldn't you know it, that's what I opened the following Christmas Eve. I still have that doll. Not because I have any interest in ventriloquism, but because it reminds me of his generosity. I think everyone needs an aunt/uncle like that. The one that makes you feel more special than the others (even if they are doing it for the others too).
- In high school, I was in a biology class that brought us out to a college research vessel on a river. Low and behold, he was the captain of said vessel. This earned me a special privilege of steering the ship for a bit and a little more chatty time in the wheel house. It was here I told him that I feel most at home near or on a body of water- that something about it makes me feel calmer than not. He chuckled, and mentioned that he was the same way. A week later, he brought over a neon pink ship hat (which in the early 90's...no no no to neon....), but the gesture was so sweet, and he had found a way to connect with his teenage niece. I appreciated that.
- He ALWAYS supported my children in their walk-a-thon fundraiser. Every time I asked him for support, he was there. Generously there. Never a "I gave last year, or last quarter....". Always there. That kind of generous loyalty is something to be celebrated.
- Here's my most favorite: he always always always sent a birthday card. Just the card, but he always sent one. Without fail. This year, I didn't get one from him near my birthday, and I thought I should pray for him. It's so weird that I'd miss his simple card. He passed away on Friday, October 16. The day after he passed, I received a birthday card from him. It was funny and simple. And something I'll hang on to for years to come.
- Last, but certainly not least.... my uncle loved God. Faithfully showing up to services as often as he could. Engaging in a family of believers when he could. I love this one because I know... I KNOW that Tuesday's funeral is not good-bye. It's just a "see ya later."
So, thank you, Uncle Dick, for being you. For doing your best. For leading by example. I'm so glad I got to be in your family circle. Thank you for loving God. I'll see ya later.
Monday, October 19, 2015
Not Me! Monday- 2015 version
Yes, friends... it's a throw back to some my favorite type of blog post- the Not Me! Monday. I've had a bunch of self-deprecating blog posts rolling around in my noggin....
.....so, I thought I'd air them out for you.
Let's see if Not Me! Monday posts are like riding a bike:
I did not spend a lot of time getting all dolled up for the first day of MOPS last month. I did not treat it like the first day of school. I did not lay out clothing the night before, and in my true-to-free spirit self, I did not forget to make sure that I had clean undergarments to wear to this not at all important day of the year. I did not get out of the shower that morning to realize that I had zero clean underwear. I am always on top of the laundry situation in our house. I am never in need of clean undergarments (and neither are my kids and husband... never). Furthermore, I am never behind on housekeeping, in general. I have a cleaning schedule, and I always stick to it. I did not end up wearing maternity underwear to MOPS that day. Nope! Not me! Not only do I always have clean underwear in my drawer, I always rotate obsolete clothing out of my closet at the first opportunity. Never would I have maternity underwear in my closet when I haven't been pregnant in.... almost three years.
I would never yell at my boys for using baby-talk to converse with my or their friends. This is not my ultimate pet-peeve. Furthermore, I would never commit the parenting-cardinal sin by talking about my eldest's baby-talking in the kitchen when I did not know his friend was still sitting in our living room. Nope! I would never embarrass my son by speaking about him in front of his friends. Since this conversation never happened, I would not feel like the biggest heel in the world. And later, I would not hope that this faux-pas wouldn't turn into something positive by having said friend pour on some innocent peer pressure to get him to stop baby talking. Dave and I always allow baby-talking in our kids, and we always talk like that to each other. We encourage our kid to talk this way, and do not appreciate all the years sweet A went through speech therapy. We did not work for years and years to get his muscles to move correctly in his mouth only to encourage lazy speech. After all, forty year old men who speak in baby-talk are always the first guys to get the dream job, right?
I would never wear a pair of shoes that always cause blisters on my fourth toes. Not me! I am a sensible girl who always wears sensible shoes. I would never give up comfort for vanity. I did not end up in sock-feet while waiting for the kids to finish singing at church. Nope! I always make the smartest choices for my feet. And I certainly wouldn't scream at the dog the next morning for running across my blistered toe. I would never scream at my dog for something she doesn't understand, and I certainly wouldn't blame my unconditionally loving pet for my own poor leather-bound foot-covering choices.
Well, I'm totally feeling better for my non-confessions. What sort of things did you not do these past few months???
.....so, I thought I'd air them out for you.
Let's see if Not Me! Monday posts are like riding a bike:
I did not spend a lot of time getting all dolled up for the first day of MOPS last month. I did not treat it like the first day of school. I did not lay out clothing the night before, and in my true-to-free spirit self, I did not forget to make sure that I had clean undergarments to wear to this not at all important day of the year. I did not get out of the shower that morning to realize that I had zero clean underwear. I am always on top of the laundry situation in our house. I am never in need of clean undergarments (and neither are my kids and husband... never). Furthermore, I am never behind on housekeeping, in general. I have a cleaning schedule, and I always stick to it. I did not end up wearing maternity underwear to MOPS that day. Nope! Not me! Not only do I always have clean underwear in my drawer, I always rotate obsolete clothing out of my closet at the first opportunity. Never would I have maternity underwear in my closet when I haven't been pregnant in.... almost three years.
I would never yell at my boys for using baby-talk to converse with my or their friends. This is not my ultimate pet-peeve. Furthermore, I would never commit the parenting-cardinal sin by talking about my eldest's baby-talking in the kitchen when I did not know his friend was still sitting in our living room. Nope! I would never embarrass my son by speaking about him in front of his friends. Since this conversation never happened, I would not feel like the biggest heel in the world. And later, I would not hope that this faux-pas wouldn't turn into something positive by having said friend pour on some innocent peer pressure to get him to stop baby talking. Dave and I always allow baby-talking in our kids, and we always talk like that to each other. We encourage our kid to talk this way, and do not appreciate all the years sweet A went through speech therapy. We did not work for years and years to get his muscles to move correctly in his mouth only to encourage lazy speech. After all, forty year old men who speak in baby-talk are always the first guys to get the dream job, right?
I would never wear a pair of shoes that always cause blisters on my fourth toes. Not me! I am a sensible girl who always wears sensible shoes. I would never give up comfort for vanity. I did not end up in sock-feet while waiting for the kids to finish singing at church. Nope! I always make the smartest choices for my feet. And I certainly wouldn't scream at the dog the next morning for running across my blistered toe. I would never scream at my dog for something she doesn't understand, and I certainly wouldn't blame my unconditionally loving pet for my own poor leather-bound foot-covering choices.
Well, I'm totally feeling better for my non-confessions. What sort of things did you not do these past few months???
Monday, September 14, 2015
Counting Mine {401-413}
401. Good hair days
402. Acne wash (that works!)
403. Play it again Sports. Making fall and spring sports a tad more affordable.
404. Lots and lots (and lots) of little kids at church
405. Bible studies that go back to original Greek and Hebrew.
406. The husband's patience
407. Purchasing the first four Christmas presents
408. Someone to share tears with
409. Another year of Maddie
410. Friends who share recipes and expertise
411. New friends who are willing to link arms with me in parenthood
412. The pair of good tweezers
413. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.
402. Acne wash (that works!)
403. Play it again Sports. Making fall and spring sports a tad more affordable.
404. Lots and lots (and lots) of little kids at church
405. Bible studies that go back to original Greek and Hebrew.
406. The husband's patience
407. Purchasing the first four Christmas presents
408. Someone to share tears with
409. Another year of Maddie
410. Friends who share recipes and expertise
411. New friends who are willing to link arms with me in parenthood
412. The pair of good tweezers
413. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.
Sunday, September 6, 2015
Counting Mine {387-400}
387. The perfect hymn that stays clear in your head all day long.
388. A completed zip line.
389. Invitations to new friend's homes
390. Excitement over a 100% spelling test after a long week studying.
391. Increased confidence in middle school
392. Mineral foundation
393. Birthday parties
394. The fancy bathroom faucet
395. Air conditioning
396. Clear margins
398. New bedrooms
399. Nightlights
400. Antibiotics and weekend express care.
388. A completed zip line.
389. Invitations to new friend's homes
390. Excitement over a 100% spelling test after a long week studying.
391. Increased confidence in middle school
392. Mineral foundation
393. Birthday parties
394. The fancy bathroom faucet
395. Air conditioning
396. Clear margins
398. New bedrooms
399. Nightlights
400. Antibiotics and weekend express care.
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
Our new normal.
So.... that as an insanely long sabbatical from writing.
There's about a million more behind those four words,
but that sums it up into a nice tidy little package.
For some of you, its like no big deal. People leave churches all the time, right? But... for Dave and I, this church was the one we carefully chose 12 years ago to raise our children in, to grow old in. The one that we chose to spend our time, talent, and treasures in. These people were our non-related family.
I have written this post about a dozen times, and tried in every different way to explain it.... in detail.... in vague terms.... but I had to work through the anger and disappointment before I could put it together in a tidy little package. Dave and I have committed to taking the high road through all of this.... closing our lips when we want to spit venom, praying for those that we are disappointed in.... so, it has taken me this long to write.
In true Pardon My Dust form, I decided to make a list of things I'm thankful for in this process. Because there is always,
always,
always
- For a rock-solid marriage. For a husband who reaches for my hand in the middle of the night just to let me know he's laying awake thinking and praying for our family- just like I am.
- For the perfect hug from my parent's friend at the perfect time.
- For a clear "no, I am not calling you here at this moment in time"
- For old acquaintances who journey with you... and become great friends.
- For time away at my childhood home just to enjoy summer a bit.
- For time to play with my portrait lens.
- For time to sit by the water and pray.
- For the perfect timing of a Godly mentor.
- For the good tissues
- For laughter that makes you cross your legs and makes your abs hurt- the next day.
- For the self-control to NOT send that knee-jerk email and NOT punch anyone
- For the perfect prayer at the perfect time.
- For boys who ask questions while they're processing things and grieving the old.
- For a toddler- who will have no memory of this before/after life event.
- For a new church and school.... who have gone out of their way to be welcoming and inviting.
- For the promise that, "yes... this will eventually feel like home."
- For the large families with lots of kids who make me look like a procreating under-achiever.
- For God to give me some time alone- separated from friends- to process and lean on Him.
- For the surprise "good-bye" to help our boys process.
- For the shorter commute.
- For the all-in mission
- For the burning bush moment
- For the invitations
- For the feeling of peace after worship.
- For open ears.
- For open hearts.
- For closed chapters.
Actually, I was writing, I just wasn't publishing.
To sum up the last 4 1/2 months of our lives:
We left our church.
There's about a million more behind those four words,
but that sums it up into a nice tidy little package.
For some of you, its like no big deal. People leave churches all the time, right? But... for Dave and I, this church was the one we carefully chose 12 years ago to raise our children in, to grow old in. The one that we chose to spend our time, talent, and treasures in. These people were our non-related family.
And we left.
I have written this post about a dozen times, and tried in every different way to explain it.... in detail.... in vague terms.... but I had to work through the anger and disappointment before I could put it together in a tidy little package. Dave and I have committed to taking the high road through all of this.... closing our lips when we want to spit venom, praying for those that we are disappointed in.... so, it has taken me this long to write.
In true Pardon My Dust form, I decided to make a list of things I'm thankful for in this process. Because there is always,
always,
always
something to be thankful for:
- For a rock-solid marriage. For a husband who reaches for my hand in the middle of the night just to let me know he's laying awake thinking and praying for our family- just like I am.
- For the perfect hug from my parent's friend at the perfect time.
- For a clear "no, I am not calling you here at this moment in time"
- For old acquaintances who journey with you... and become great friends.
- For time away at my childhood home just to enjoy summer a bit.
- For time to play with my portrait lens.
- For time to sit by the water and pray.
- For the perfect timing of a Godly mentor.
- For the good tissues
- For laughter that makes you cross your legs and makes your abs hurt- the next day.
- For the self-control to NOT send that knee-jerk email and NOT punch anyone
- For the perfect prayer at the perfect time.
- For boys who ask questions while they're processing things and grieving the old.
- For a toddler- who will have no memory of this before/after life event.
- For a new church and school.... who have gone out of their way to be welcoming and inviting.
- For the promise that, "yes... this will eventually feel like home."
- For the large families with lots of kids who make me look like a procreating under-achiever.
- For God to give me some time alone- separated from friends- to process and lean on Him.
- For the surprise "good-bye" to help our boys process.
- For the shorter commute.
- For the all-in mission
- For the burning bush moment
- For the invitations
- For the feeling of peace after worship.
- For open ears.
- For open hearts.
- For closed chapters.
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
Yearly
Let me start this blog by saying "I'm sorry mom...I know it's not ladylike to talk about the yearly appointment...please feel free not to read."
So, there I was...exactly on time for my yearly appointment that was 1 year and 10 months overdue.
This was my first visit where I could whole-heartedly say that this is no longer my Obstetrician office, but my full-fledged Gynecologist office. I'm good with that.
But never the less, I come in...and since it's an awesome office- the turn over is low. So, I'm seeing MA's and RN's and assistants that have held my hand through pregnancies, ultrasounds, infertility, and everything in between...and they're like old friends. Only the old friends I haven't seen in a while. But still...good to see them.
Even as I was filling out paperwork, the questions came up:
____________________________________________________________________
When was your last period: Friday (sorry, the date escapes me, and I don't have a phone on me so I'm essentially helpless)
How long are your cycles: I'm not sure. But I'm ornery every 3-4 weeks.
Are you currently pregnant: No. (see aforementioned period on Friday)
Are you planning on becoming pregnant soon: No, no no noooooooooooooo
_____________________________________________________________________
I had to snicker to myself. Because I know this is a generalized form, but hey...there are 80 year-olds who come in this office and have to fill out this same paperwork. I can only imagine the rise they get out of the last question.
So...then my name gets called...and it's the part I'm dreading...the weigh-in. It's this I've been hiding from. This is why it's overdue. Because I let that number determine my self worth. And I sit there with nothing but that number in the back of my head all darn day. Week. Month. Year.
So...then I weigh in, and ask to pee- basically because I do have to pee, but also to clear out the numbers on the scale. Because when I came in, there were numbers left up, and I saw how much the sweet little pregnant little lady weighed even with a huge belly. (did I mention little?) And I thought "no one needs to see my number."
Blood pressure: ok. (take that, darn weight)
Pulse: still beating...and good (surprising because it was INSANE to get me here on time this morning, and just less than 15 minutes ago it was racing because I was running to get there on time...and had a cup of coffee...ok, two).
Then she leaves with the instructions I hear every time I'm here
Bah.
Ok...so here's where my real work begins. Because I can never tie those darn gowns. I can get the top one tied ok, but I feel like a contortionist trying to get the middle one...so I'm there- looking like I"m chasing my own tail walking in circles in this 10x10 office...pretty sure I am about to throw my shoulder out of socket.
So, I pull the gown closed as tightly as possible, and sit "quietly" on the paper, and drape the sheet securely over the rest of me. But...guess what.
Because I needed something other than doctor-provided cotton to give me some security. And apparently, sunglasses on my head has become my anchor to prevent me from floating into the sea of Abysmal Unclothed Embarrassment.
And then it hits me....
There is a gas bubble brewing.
I can literally feel it moving south.
COME ON, BODY! Can't you play along nicely- just this ONCE???
The projection that it's moving south is just about faster than the speed of light...and I start to clinch up. I'm weighing my options...
Do I:
a) let it go and pray there's no odor, or if there is it dissipates quickly???
b) keep clinching and pray for the best?
I'm weighing my options:
A) doesn't work. I know I have GI issues...for a while now. There's no such thing as a non-odor gaseous emanation for GI peeps. No.such.thing. They're all bad. And it's just me in this room. No one to blame it on. Just me. Waiting with nothing but doctor-provided cotton cloth and sunglasses.
ok- next option:
B) Just clinch it. It's my only hope. I can pray that it will die down and sit quietly in some corner of my gut during the exam...and pray...and pray.
So, plan b is working well...until I start to sweat. This nasty bubble has made my entire body break out in a cold sweat. I'm sweating so bad that the "gown" is starting to stick to me and I need to wipe my brow and upper lip (sexy, I know).
So, then I'm moving around a bit. Trying to get comfortable. And what do I realize but the sweat episode has now glued the paper sheet to my exposed skin. Anywhere I was exposed, now is covered with concrete paper. Lovely.
Again, my options:
a) sit there and cover the shredded paper with my ample behind and doctor-provided sheet
or
b) quickly redress the bed and throw away the shredded sheet.
Thankfully, the bed was easy to redress and there I am- with new paper on the bed, a few papers stuck to my backside that I'm desperately trying to peel off- standing on the step stool ready to quick plop down when she knocks on the door- because God forbid I sit my sweaty behind down on the paper any sooner than necessary.
Wait...I'm still sweaty- and I'm standing, so I start fanning myself. Dry off, please dry off.
The rest of the story is inconsequential (and also tmi), but other than a "well, you're down 10 pounds from when we last saw you...so that's a start. Keep going."
and my omission of not-saying "well, I'm actually down 24 pounds, but you don't have that documented...so I'm not telling you"
And an examination of a few suspect moles, I am in good health and on my merry way.
So, there I was...exactly on time for my yearly appointment that was 1 year and 10 months overdue.
Yep, I'm talking about the yearly.
This was my first visit where I could whole-heartedly say that this is no longer my Obstetrician office, but my full-fledged Gynecologist office. I'm good with that.
But never the less, I come in...and since it's an awesome office- the turn over is low. So, I'm seeing MA's and RN's and assistants that have held my hand through pregnancies, ultrasounds, infertility, and everything in between...and they're like old friends. Only the old friends I haven't seen in a while. But still...good to see them.
Even as I was filling out paperwork, the questions came up:
____________________________________________________________________
When was your last period: Friday (sorry, the date escapes me, and I don't have a phone on me so I'm essentially helpless)
How long are your cycles: I'm not sure. But I'm ornery every 3-4 weeks.
Are you currently pregnant: No. (see aforementioned period on Friday)
Are you planning on becoming pregnant soon: No, no no noooooooooooooo
_____________________________________________________________________
I had to snicker to myself. Because I know this is a generalized form, but hey...there are 80 year-olds who come in this office and have to fill out this same paperwork. I can only imagine the rise they get out of the last question.
(Note to self: When I'm 80,
write "yes, with God's help."
just to see the reaction from
the doctor).
So...then my name gets called...and it's the part I'm dreading...the weigh-in. It's this I've been hiding from. This is why it's overdue. Because I let that number determine my self worth. And I sit there with nothing but that number in the back of my head all darn day. Week. Month. Year.
So...then I weigh in, and ask to pee- basically because I do have to pee, but also to clear out the numbers on the scale. Because when I came in, there were numbers left up, and I saw how much the sweet little pregnant little lady weighed even with a huge belly. (did I mention little?) And I thought "no one needs to see my number."
Blood pressure: ok. (take that, darn weight)
Pulse: still beating...and good (surprising because it was INSANE to get me here on time this morning, and just less than 15 minutes ago it was racing because I was running to get there on time...and had a cup of coffee...ok, two).
Then she leaves with the instructions I hear every time I'm here
...gown open to the back, sheet across your lap.
Bah.
Ok...so here's where my real work begins. Because I can never tie those darn gowns. I can get the top one tied ok, but I feel like a contortionist trying to get the middle one...so I'm there- looking like I"m chasing my own tail walking in circles in this 10x10 office...pretty sure I am about to throw my shoulder out of socket.
Well...skip it.
So, I pull the gown closed as tightly as possible, and sit "quietly" on the paper, and drape the sheet securely over the rest of me. But...guess what.
I keep my sunglasses on my head.
Because I needed something other than doctor-provided cotton to give me some security. And apparently, sunglasses on my head has become my anchor to prevent me from floating into the sea of Abysmal Unclothed Embarrassment.
And then it hits me....
There is a gas bubble brewing.
I can hear it gurgling in my stomach.
It's loud and angry.
I can literally feel it moving south.
Bless me.
COME ON, BODY! Can't you play along nicely- just this ONCE???
The projection that it's moving south is just about faster than the speed of light...and I start to clinch up. I'm weighing my options...
Do I:
a) let it go and pray there's no odor, or if there is it dissipates quickly???
b) keep clinching and pray for the best?
I'm weighing my options:
A) doesn't work. I know I have GI issues...for a while now. There's no such thing as a non-odor gaseous emanation for GI peeps. No.such.thing. They're all bad. And it's just me in this room. No one to blame it on. Just me. Waiting with nothing but doctor-provided cotton cloth and sunglasses.
ok- next option:
B) Just clinch it. It's my only hope. I can pray that it will die down and sit quietly in some corner of my gut during the exam...and pray...and pray.
So, plan b is working well...until I start to sweat. This nasty bubble has made my entire body break out in a cold sweat. I'm sweating so bad that the "gown" is starting to stick to me and I need to wipe my brow and upper lip (sexy, I know).
So, then I'm moving around a bit. Trying to get comfortable. And what do I realize but the sweat episode has now glued the paper sheet to my exposed skin. Anywhere I was exposed, now is covered with concrete paper. Lovely.
Again, my options:
a) sit there and cover the shredded paper with my ample behind and doctor-provided sheet
or
b) quickly redress the bed and throw away the shredded sheet.
b. GO GO GO.
Thankfully, the bed was easy to redress and there I am- with new paper on the bed, a few papers stuck to my backside that I'm desperately trying to peel off- standing on the step stool ready to quick plop down when she knocks on the door- because God forbid I sit my sweaty behind down on the paper any sooner than necessary.
Wait...I'm still sweaty- and I'm standing, so I start fanning myself. Dry off, please dry off.
Knock, knock.
Plop down, cover up..."come in"
The rest of the story is inconsequential (and also tmi), but other than a "well, you're down 10 pounds from when we last saw you...so that's a start. Keep going."
and my omission of not-saying "well, I'm actually down 24 pounds, but you don't have that documented...so I'm not telling you"
And an examination of a few suspect moles, I am in good health and on my merry way.
But I can say that plan b's worked.
Both of them.
So the long and the short of it is, plan A isn't always the best plan- plan b is usually good. If executed correctly, things can work out...or you could break into a cold sweat, but keep trying anyway.
You'll get through.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
The safe place
There are some big changes coming in our little world.
That's a different story for a different day, though...
(we're all healthy and our marriage is good....just lots of big changes- don't worry- we will update soon)
And how we deal with them, right?
This is a new season of parenting for Dave and I.
Up until now, we have only helped dry tears of skin abrasions and being too tired.
So...my kids are dealing with it in different ways according to the way God wired them.
Both of them are turning to prayer.
On the other hand:
A. is showing a trend to anxiety attacks and OCD issues.
Middle C bottles everything up and shows anger bursts and then nightmares.
When these nightmares hit, naturally Middle C ends up at my bedside; cold, clammy and shaken.
I invite him into our bed- because I know that this is his safe-space. Where he feels loved and safe. He calms down after some time and falls into a deep deep sleep. The kind of trusting sleep that cannot be shaken. The kind of sleep that is balm for a hurting soul.
Then I lay there and listen to he and Dave breathing. Peaceful in their sleep, but I'm awake now...
...my brain doesn't shut off.
...my child is hurting....
....my heart is hurting....
Then I start to pray.
I start by being thankful for all we have, all we have been through, for the times God has called us to be obedient and we have listened. I ask for convicting where I need to be convicted. And, as Middle C blissfully slept in his safe place, I asked for God to show me where MY safe place was.
He reminded me of a conversation I had with my bestie, Gina, more than 20 years ago.
In that 2 a.m. place, God brought to me a 30 second conversation that is
When she described her safe place in times of trouble:
She said that she imagined these HUGE hands of God's cupped and her sitting right in the middle of it all- teeny tiny, but totally protected. Nothing could touch her in that place...there was only peace, love and God's protection.
God used a very old conversation - a mustard seed planted by my friend so so long ago- to solidify and calm my troubled heart this week.
And since that moment, I have been at peace. I am ready to make big decisions, and I am ready to follow my husband's lead.
So...now, in the midst of all this turmoil, I know that I am in a safe place.
The safest place.
Big changes for us, that is.
It probably won't affect many of you as much as it will us.
That's a different story for a different day, though...
(we're all healthy and our marriage is good....just lots of big changes- don't worry- we will update soon)
....because despite what the details are on our changes, this post deals with changes in general.
And how we deal with them, right?
This is a new season of parenting for Dave and I.
Meaning: this is the first time we're helping
our children navigate a heartbreak.
Up until now, we have only helped dry tears of skin abrasions and being too tired.
Temporary things.
This is certainly a "before and after" moment in their lives.
So...my kids are dealing with it in different ways according to the way God wired them.
Both of them are turning to prayer.
All on their own.
And their prayers start for people other than themselves.
(side note: oh, my mama's heart....)
On the other hand:
A. is showing a trend to anxiety attacks and OCD issues.
Middle C bottles everything up and shows anger bursts and then nightmares.
When these nightmares hit, naturally Middle C ends up at my bedside; cold, clammy and shaken.
I invite him into our bed- because I know that this is his safe-space. Where he feels loved and safe. He calms down after some time and falls into a deep deep sleep. The kind of trusting sleep that cannot be shaken. The kind of sleep that is balm for a hurting soul.
Then I lay there and listen to he and Dave breathing. Peaceful in their sleep, but I'm awake now...
...my brain doesn't shut off.
...my child is hurting....
....my heart is hurting....
....the future is uncertain.
Then I start to pray.
I start by being thankful for all we have, all we have been through, for the times God has called us to be obedient and we have listened. I ask for convicting where I need to be convicted. And, as Middle C blissfully slept in his safe place, I asked for God to show me where MY safe place was.
And He answered.
He reminded me of a conversation I had with my bestie, Gina, more than 20 years ago.
In that 2 a.m. place, God brought to me a 30 second conversation that is
OVER TWO DECADES old.
Two decades, people.
(side note: how did I get this old?!?!?)
When she described her safe place in times of trouble:
Right in God's hands.
She said that she imagined these HUGE hands of God's cupped and her sitting right in the middle of it all- teeny tiny, but totally protected. Nothing could touch her in that place...there was only peace, love and God's protection.
God used a very old conversation - a mustard seed planted by my friend so so long ago- to solidify and calm my troubled heart this week.
And since that moment, I have been at peace. I am ready to make big decisions, and I am ready to follow my husband's lead.
So...now, in the midst of all this turmoil, I know that I am in a safe place.
The safest place.
I am held.
I am protected.
I am safe.
I am ready.
Friday, May 8, 2015
Counting Mine {364-386}
Friends, this is a therapy post. It's for me. Feel free not to read.
My MOPS mentor mom - even though she was absent from our meeting yesterday- still found a way to bless me and God used her and her circumstances to pierce my heart. She left a gift for each of us at our table...and followed it up with an email reminding us to be thankful...in all circumstances. That has always been a motto of mine as well, but as soon as the sh*t hit the fan this week, I failed.
I forgot to be thankful.
So, in an effort to calm my heart amidst the storm...I need to focus on what is good.
(More on the storm later...but if you could pray for me, my family, my friends, our school and our current church body...that would be great.)
364. Lori. For who she is. For what she does. For listening. For praying. For keeping her eyes on God while caring for your husband. Her grace does not go unnoticed. (And if you would pray for Lori and her husband, Dave, that would be wonderful too)
365. For the sisterhood of steering.
366. For laughter that was balm for my soul.
367. #helpishelpful
368. For the superfruit cosmopolitan. (It's essentially healthfood, right???)
369. For Barb. Oh, my heart loves Barb. She is steadfast. She is supportive. She is an ear. She offers help. She has the gift of hospitality (dude...seriously....). This woman's heart...I just love her. I'm so so so thankful for her in my life.
370. Hugs.
371. Cappicino Crunch Ice cream (a very very small bowl...but it was so good).
372. For a silent hand-hold in the middle of the night.
373. For other parents to link arms with during this journey of parenthood
374. For boundaries. And understanding when and where they are needed before they are crossed.
375. For wise pastoral counsel
376. For just the right speaker to come in at just the right time.
377. For someone to send me the perfect pin at just the perfect time
378. For breakfast dinner
379. For a clearer defination of the words "righteous anger" and the separation between that and "sinful anger"
380. For punching bags
381. For obedient hearts
382. For history. History in small circles. Circles that you didn't realize overlapped.
383. For fast drying toe nail polish
384. For release. Freedom.
385. For the "I'm sorry"
386. For the forgiveness.
My MOPS mentor mom - even though she was absent from our meeting yesterday- still found a way to bless me and God used her and her circumstances to pierce my heart. She left a gift for each of us at our table...and followed it up with an email reminding us to be thankful...in all circumstances. That has always been a motto of mine as well, but as soon as the sh*t hit the fan this week, I failed.
I forgot to be thankful.
So, in an effort to calm my heart amidst the storm...I need to focus on what is good.
(More on the storm later...but if you could pray for me, my family, my friends, our school and our current church body...that would be great.)
364. Lori. For who she is. For what she does. For listening. For praying. For keeping her eyes on God while caring for your husband. Her grace does not go unnoticed. (And if you would pray for Lori and her husband, Dave, that would be wonderful too)
365. For the sisterhood of steering.
366. For laughter that was balm for my soul.
367. #helpishelpful
368. For the superfruit cosmopolitan. (It's essentially healthfood, right???)
369. For Barb. Oh, my heart loves Barb. She is steadfast. She is supportive. She is an ear. She offers help. She has the gift of hospitality (dude...seriously....). This woman's heart...I just love her. I'm so so so thankful for her in my life.
370. Hugs.
371. Cappicino Crunch Ice cream (a very very small bowl...but it was so good).
372. For a silent hand-hold in the middle of the night.
373. For other parents to link arms with during this journey of parenthood
374. For boundaries. And understanding when and where they are needed before they are crossed.
375. For wise pastoral counsel
376. For just the right speaker to come in at just the right time.
377. For someone to send me the perfect pin at just the perfect time
378. For breakfast dinner
379. For a clearer defination of the words "righteous anger" and the separation between that and "sinful anger"
380. For punching bags
381. For obedient hearts
382. For history. History in small circles. Circles that you didn't realize overlapped.
383. For fast drying toe nail polish
384. For release. Freedom.
385. For the "I'm sorry"
386. For the forgiveness.
Friday, April 10, 2015
An update of sorts
My friend and I exchange bullet-pointed emails a few times a day.
Possibly because we are too busy to form a well-structured paragraph.
Possibly because we are both ADD.
Possibly because it's the easiest way to get a bunch of information out in a short period of time.
Today, you get a bulleted update:
- My house is on it's way to being officially organized. (notice I didn't say squeeky clean...no one has time for that). Seems like every spring break we do this...to find a lost library book.
- I have not found said book.
- Yet.
- My boys gave me a gift at my parent's house on Monday and vaccuumed out our van.
- And then left the light on, and I ended up with a dead battery.
- I worked with an amazing team coordinating our school's auction.
- It was an amazing success- thanks to so many who are willing to open their hearts and wallets and support our little school.
- The last 10 minutes of the night were my favorite. Where so many people raised their numbers to sponsor a child for a month's worth of tuition. My heart still swells when I think about it. Pure, un selfish, generosity.
- We decided not to go anywhere for an extended period of time during spring break so I could potty train baby L. Four days in, and she's toileting herself (or asking to go if we're out and about) without accidents. Awesomesauce.
- Truth be told, she was probably ready 6 months ago. But I was too busy running around to do anything about it.
- A has had a growth spurt. He is only a few inches away from being eye-to-eye with me. I know this is part of his growing up...but my heart is not ready for that.
- C has decided to give baseball a try this spring. We made a deal with him- if he played fall soccer, he'd try baseball in the spring. My mom-gut says he's going to get bored in baseball and miss soccer. But at least he will have tried something new...but I do believe he's a soccer player at heart.
- Dave remains busy, busy, busy. Which makes me so so proud of him. After 12 years of business, he has maintained a busy schedule solely by word-of-mouth. Well, that's not entirely true...he had two weeks in there...one week when C. was a baby and one week when baby L. was small...where he had only small jobs....but he worked on the Love Shack, and then things got crazy again. So...I'm still proud.
- I am starting a MOPS group at our church this fall. If you are the praying type, I covet your prayers for this new group: that God would bless the moms who sign up with the same type of community I have found at my local MOPS. My life wouldn't be the same without it.
- We hosted our families for Easter afternoon. With our annual Easter Egg hunt. I love watching the kiddos run for it. My heart love love loves these guys.
- We took our annual Easter Well-head family picture. Which I wasn't going to post...because the picture is not the greatest, and my pose is very weird...but whatevs. When you're running back through dog-poop-land-mined gravel down hill in heels to beat the timer, you'll have that.
- The boys have spikey hair now. They were growing it out, but the shaggy got to me. While A is still obedient enough, and I can still manipulate C into submission, I decided to bite the bullet and take them to get their hair cut. First time in over 2 years I've paid for a hair cut for them. Not too shabby. Although, I about choked on my saliva when she gave me a total.
- There is more to say here, but I have a little one who is showing me it's time for attention on her. So, that's another post for another day. Hope to see you before next quarter!
Possibly because we are too busy to form a well-structured paragraph.
Possibly because we are both ADD.
Possibly because it's the easiest way to get a bunch of information out in a short period of time.
Today, you get a bulleted update:
- My house is on it's way to being officially organized. (notice I didn't say squeeky clean...no one has time for that). Seems like every spring break we do this...to find a lost library book.
- I have not found said book.
- Yet.
- My boys gave me a gift at my parent's house on Monday and vaccuumed out our van.
- And then left the light on, and I ended up with a dead battery.
- I worked with an amazing team coordinating our school's auction.
- It was an amazing success- thanks to so many who are willing to open their hearts and wallets and support our little school.
- The last 10 minutes of the night were my favorite. Where so many people raised their numbers to sponsor a child for a month's worth of tuition. My heart still swells when I think about it. Pure, un selfish, generosity.
- We decided not to go anywhere for an extended period of time during spring break so I could potty train baby L. Four days in, and she's toileting herself (or asking to go if we're out and about) without accidents. Awesomesauce.
- Truth be told, she was probably ready 6 months ago. But I was too busy running around to do anything about it.
- A has had a growth spurt. He is only a few inches away from being eye-to-eye with me. I know this is part of his growing up...but my heart is not ready for that.
- C has decided to give baseball a try this spring. We made a deal with him- if he played fall soccer, he'd try baseball in the spring. My mom-gut says he's going to get bored in baseball and miss soccer. But at least he will have tried something new...but I do believe he's a soccer player at heart.
- Dave remains busy, busy, busy. Which makes me so so proud of him. After 12 years of business, he has maintained a busy schedule solely by word-of-mouth. Well, that's not entirely true...he had two weeks in there...one week when C. was a baby and one week when baby L. was small...where he had only small jobs....but he worked on the Love Shack, and then things got crazy again. So...I'm still proud.
- I am starting a MOPS group at our church this fall. If you are the praying type, I covet your prayers for this new group: that God would bless the moms who sign up with the same type of community I have found at my local MOPS. My life wouldn't be the same without it.
- We hosted our families for Easter afternoon. With our annual Easter Egg hunt. I love watching the kiddos run for it. My heart love love loves these guys.
- We took our annual Easter Well-head family picture. Which I wasn't going to post...because the picture is not the greatest, and my pose is very weird...but whatevs. When you're running back through dog-poop-land-mined gravel down hill in heels to beat the timer, you'll have that.
- The boys have spikey hair now. They were growing it out, but the shaggy got to me. While A is still obedient enough, and I can still manipulate C into submission, I decided to bite the bullet and take them to get their hair cut. First time in over 2 years I've paid for a hair cut for them. Not too shabby. Although, I about choked on my saliva when she gave me a total.
- There is more to say here, but I have a little one who is showing me it's time for attention on her. So, that's another post for another day. Hope to see you before next quarter!
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Just sayin'
So...C is on a preventative inhaler for his asthma.
It costs a lot as far as prescriptions go, and every time I have to pick it up, the pharmacy tech always says, "This one has a higher co-pay. Are you prepared for that?"
I always shake my head sideways and say, "Yes. I know what my responsibilities are."
Anyways....
C's inhaler count was running low.
I call the pharmacy to refill.
"Ma'am, there are no more refills for this. You need to call the doctor to have them call in a new prescription."
Call the doctor
"Yes, but he's due for an asthma/well-child check up. We won't refill it until we see him."
"I understand. But we only have 3 puffs left, and I can't get in until next week. And I really don't like coming in for well-child check ups during cold and flu season because our well-child check-ups expose us to sickness, and we end up getting SICK from the WELL-child."
"Well, I suppose we can call in one refill for you to tide you over until we see you. We'll make his appointment for first thing in the morning so you won't be exposed to a waiting room full of people."
Appointment made.
Script called in.
I pick it up: wrong inhaler. They called in the rescue inhaler...not the preventative.
(There's $46.87 that we cannot return....ahem)
More phone calls...one month's worth of new inhaler ($186.14), and we're on our way.
So, we head to the doctor for our well-child/asthma check up first thing Tuesday morning.
We stand in our corner of the waiting room...no one touches a chair (they have been taught this).
Get to our room.
Doctor* comes in. He's sick. Congestion, flushed face, coughing...
So...today- 48 hours after said well-child visit...C wakes up with a fever, congestion and coughing.
Baby L. is complaining of her "forehead hurting."
Seriously.
Just sayin'
It costs a lot as far as prescriptions go, and every time I have to pick it up, the pharmacy tech always says, "This one has a higher co-pay. Are you prepared for that?"
I always shake my head sideways and say, "Yes. I know what my responsibilities are."
Anyways....
C's inhaler count was running low.
I call the pharmacy to refill.
"Ma'am, there are no more refills for this. You need to call the doctor to have them call in a new prescription."
Call the doctor
"Yes, but he's due for an asthma/well-child check up. We won't refill it until we see him."
Sigh.
"I understand. But we only have 3 puffs left, and I can't get in until next week. And I really don't like coming in for well-child check ups during cold and flu season because our well-child check-ups expose us to sickness, and we end up getting SICK from the WELL-child."
"Well, I suppose we can call in one refill for you to tide you over until we see you. We'll make his appointment for first thing in the morning so you won't be exposed to a waiting room full of people."
Appointment made.
Script called in.
I pick it up: wrong inhaler. They called in the rescue inhaler...not the preventative.
(There's $46.87 that we cannot return....ahem)
More phone calls...one month's worth of new inhaler ($186.14), and we're on our way.
So, we head to the doctor for our well-child/asthma check up first thing Tuesday morning.
We stand in our corner of the waiting room...no one touches a chair (they have been taught this).
Get to our room.
Doctor* comes in. He's sick. Congestion, flushed face, coughing...
Lovely.
So...today- 48 hours after said well-child visit...C wakes up with a fever, congestion and coughing.
Baby L. is complaining of her "forehead hurting."
Seriously.
Just sayin'
*This is where I say that we do love our doctor...just not necessarily on days he is sick.
Sunday, March 8, 2015
Counting Mine {343-363}
343. Teamwork. When the team is ALL working toward a goal.
344. Thinking outside of the box. Even if it's realatively uncomfortable, it means movement is happening.
345. Walking into Bible Study knowing you did all the homework.
346. Touching base with old friends that you haven't heard from since you were eight.
347. Generous spirits. Is there anything better?
348. Humility. Those that have it, those that strive for it.
349. Good, solid leadership.
350. Useful phone apps.
351. An unsolicited back rub
352. Finding ibuprofen....just before your head explodes.
353. Well-timed movie events.
354. A good night's sleep
355. The parents at our school. Seriously.
356. Successful sleep overs and late night giggles. (but not too many!)
357. The look of pride on the boys' faces when they have a good day at school.
358. A happy-dance in the kitchen with all three kids.
359. New faces at church.
360. Old faces at church
361. Baby L's belly laugh.
362. Baby-head smell. Sigh.
363. The perfect dinner. When no one complains, everyone eats something, and no one comes up to be 5 minutes later and says, "I'm hungry."
344. Thinking outside of the box. Even if it's realatively uncomfortable, it means movement is happening.
345. Walking into Bible Study knowing you did all the homework.
346. Touching base with old friends that you haven't heard from since you were eight.
347. Generous spirits. Is there anything better?
348. Humility. Those that have it, those that strive for it.
349. Good, solid leadership.
350. Useful phone apps.
351. An unsolicited back rub
352. Finding ibuprofen....just before your head explodes.
353. Well-timed movie events.
354. A good night's sleep
355. The parents at our school. Seriously.
356. Successful sleep overs and late night giggles. (but not too many!)
357. The look of pride on the boys' faces when they have a good day at school.
358. A happy-dance in the kitchen with all three kids.
359. New faces at church.
360. Old faces at church
361. Baby L's belly laugh.
362. Baby-head smell. Sigh.
363. The perfect dinner. When no one complains, everyone eats something, and no one comes up to be 5 minutes later and says, "I'm hungry."
Thursday, February 5, 2015
HAPPY 2015! (you know...a little late)
I'm going to go ahead and start this year of blogging like the year is just beginning here. More than half of my blogging friends are slowly returning to their blogs now, and I find myself driving around town with a blog post or two running in my head. Perhaps it's my time to return as well.
In our house, we usually decide to look forward to the next year as opposed to lamenting that another year is behind us. Each year, we usually try to find a word to focus on and make that a theme for the year. For so long- during the early house years, my word was "patience."
Over and over and over,
Anyway, this summer, I received a fun chalk board from a friend, and we thought we'd all pick a word to work on for the year and write them up there. (and now I need to find a new place to put C's memory work!).
Each of us chose something different:
I don't know why he chose that word, but it literally fell off his tongue without a moment's hesitation. He didn't explain it to me, or what he was going to do with it this year, but I can't wait to see how God moves him. You all already know I'm his biggest fan, but I also respect that man as the spiritual cornerstone of our family. His humility and care with our children's hearts is something I'm so so grateful my children have. So, compassion fits well here.
I started seeing this word everywhere went starting in September, and I knew God was calling me out of my "patience" era with the house. Joy. It's an interesting word to define, isn't it? Here's the thing, I was letting things steal my joy. .
Worries, comparisons, STUFF, worries, anger, hard-heartedness toward people (this is where I struggle most currently) , worries, insecurities....they were all stealing my joy. So, when our school year had a theme centering around Joy, and the auction I'm coordinating has a theme around Joy, well...I'm going to work on getting the joy down in my heart. :) Wouldn't you know it, though...as soon as I declare it a theme, satan works harder on me than ever. But I'm onto him...and I'm fighting him. Satan, get behind me because there is joy to be had.
I actually hesitated a bit when he said this. Again, a quick roll of the tongue as if he didn't even think about it, this was God speaking through him. Dave and I talk to him all the time about self-control. My boy is growing up, and in the phase in life when he's bathing in testosterone from time to time, and sometimes needs to remember that a little self-control goes a long way when anger bubbles up. I can see his wheels turning from time to time, so I know it's in his mind. To have a grasp on that at 11 makes my mama-heart all warm and fuzzy.
Yes, my second grade, 7 year old came up with this. All on his own. Well, not necessarily on his own...he's in a Christian school where concepts like this are discussed often. I turned to him and asked him if he knew what it meant, "Yes, dedicated to Christ. Dedicated to God."
(sigh)
Whoop, there it is. Again.
Actually, in all honesty, when we asked her what she wanted for 2015, she said, "Pizza!" Which we're turning into patience. :) So, there it is again...because- well, she's 2. Need I say more?
Happy 2015!!!
(insert cliche' "Where did the year go??? thought here...)
In our house, we usually decide to look forward to the next year as opposed to lamenting that another year is behind us. Each year, we usually try to find a word to focus on and make that a theme for the year. For so long- during the early house years, my word was "patience."
Over and over and over,
year after year...I chose patience.
Spoiler alert: I'm moving on from that word. :)
Anyway, this summer, I received a fun chalk board from a friend, and we thought we'd all pick a word to work on for the year and write them up there. (and now I need to find a new place to put C's memory work!).
Each of us chose something different:
Dave- compassion
I don't know why he chose that word, but it literally fell off his tongue without a moment's hesitation. He didn't explain it to me, or what he was going to do with it this year, but I can't wait to see how God moves him. You all already know I'm his biggest fan, but I also respect that man as the spiritual cornerstone of our family. His humility and care with our children's hearts is something I'm so so grateful my children have. So, compassion fits well here.
Me (Sandy) - Joy
I started seeing this word everywhere went starting in September, and I knew God was calling me out of my "patience" era with the house. Joy. It's an interesting word to define, isn't it? Here's the thing, I was letting things steal my joy. .
So many things.
Worries, comparisons, STUFF, worries, anger, hard-heartedness toward people (this is where I struggle most currently) , worries, insecurities....they were all stealing my joy. So, when our school year had a theme centering around Joy, and the auction I'm coordinating has a theme around Joy, well...I'm going to work on getting the joy down in my heart. :) Wouldn't you know it, though...as soon as I declare it a theme, satan works harder on me than ever. But I'm onto him...and I'm fighting him. Satan, get behind me because there is joy to be had.
A- self-control
I actually hesitated a bit when he said this. Again, a quick roll of the tongue as if he didn't even think about it, this was God speaking through him. Dave and I talk to him all the time about self-control. My boy is growing up, and in the phase in life when he's bathing in testosterone from time to time, and sometimes needs to remember that a little self-control goes a long way when anger bubbles up. I can see his wheels turning from time to time, so I know it's in his mind. To have a grasp on that at 11 makes my mama-heart all warm and fuzzy.
C- consecrated to Christ
Yes, my second grade, 7 year old came up with this. All on his own. Well, not necessarily on his own...he's in a Christian school where concepts like this are discussed often. I turned to him and asked him if he knew what it meant, "Yes, dedicated to Christ. Dedicated to God."
(sigh)
Baby L. - patience
Whoop, there it is. Again.
Actually, in all honesty, when we asked her what she wanted for 2015, she said, "Pizza!" Which we're turning into patience. :) So, there it is again...because- well, she's 2. Need I say more?
And also, pizza is served in the PMD house every
Friday night for Family pizza/game/movie night.
You're welcome to join us!
*with enough warning, of course!
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