Saw dust
Paper off the copy machine
Permanent Marker
Fresh cut lawns
Clicky ball point pens
Gasoline
Clothes washed w/Downy
Old books
Year books
Well, any book
My Bible
Crayolas
Old churches
Horse Feed
and Office Depot
You?
Remember, you can post Whatev'! Just keep it under 300 words!It's not easy being parents. (can-I-get-an-amen?) I mean, really, this thing called parenting is, at times, challenging, thrilling, complicated, easy, fun, boring, loud, quiet, sweet, bitter, but never old.
It's all of that bundled up in a blanket of love and hope for what is to come. I know so many have gone before and extend to me such wonderful knowledge, support, and wisdom and I am a better parent because of them. (If you're wondering, Robin Meadows is just one of those!)
However, this road is new to me every day. Yes, my kids are pretty predictable, and yes I know them like I no no others.
But,
dude, this can be challenging. Not in a bad way, but in a creative way.
If you don't know much about me, let me fill you in on something. I'm not that creative. It's black and white, linear thinking for me. 2 + 2 is 4 and you always read left to right. Spacial thinking, out of the box thinking, seeing things before they come to be like painting or drawing...not so much. Unless you count My Drawings as creative, then yes, there is some creative juices that trickle down my little river of art.
Now, Pastor JT is another story. That man can create the best learning situations with my kids with a 2x4 and a balloon if he had to. He can see a dresser in his mind and just about make it with his eyes closed, but I don't recommend it because I like his hands. ahem.
Back to his creative abilities with my kids. We try our darndest to instill in the girls the concept of honor and respect for not only us as parents, but to one another. We've told them for years, "Treat your sister better than your best friend." and, boy have we had to revisit that line over, and over, and over, and...
Well, this weekend turned out to be a not so honoring weekend to each other and Dad decided it was time to come up with something "creative" to remind them who they are and what they are called to be. The girls were not speaking kindly nor were they really giving each other much regard. So, he decided they were giving each other poop. And to remedy the issue, you know, give them a chance to think on it for awhile, he came up with something that would do just that...and clean the back yard.
Enter...
Shovels
Buckets
Gloves
And both girls outside scooping the "poop" they gave to each other this weekend.
BRILLIANT!
Goose has some teeth issues. Don't get me wrong, that girl is dang cute, but mercy, did she ever inherit my teeth genes. More like my sister's teeth genes. I had bad ones, but Carrie, bless her heart, they were worse. But, here's mine...
Thanks for taking my polls yesterday. If you haven't, well, darn it, go do it. I need info!
ahem
Well, other than that, we've had an exciting weekend:
1---demolition of existing tile that has left my house with a thin layer of dust resting peacefully in it.
2--hubs workin' like a mad man to get some of this tile down.
3--birthday party for my 9 year old, Goose, that I, um, er, double booked myself and had to slip away and go to a meeting and missed all the opening of presents and what not. That'll make you feel weird to see your kids birthday pictures and YOU'RE NOT THERE!
4. baby girl is cutting four, yes count them, four molars. nice.
5.-- just needed a fifth one to round out the post.
That's an interesting tid-bit about me. If I'm going to have numbers, say, on a volume knob or microwave timer, the numbers need to be either even's or mulitples of 5. So, 3's, 7's, and 9's never see the dial. Weird, I know.
Back to the list. Here for your viewing boredom are some pics from the beginnings of RENOVATION 2009!!!!
Last Friday on The Whatev' Weekend Post I put out a little poll. If you didn't see it, well, just scroll down. Go ahead, it's not that far and I need you to vote.
Now, there is something else that I want to know from all of you that may or may not be a blog post later or a whole dad gum Stiletto Army discussion!
This is simply for me to get some information so that A) I'm know I'm not alone and B) I can go deeper in the Lord with this. Okay, please, just answer the poll questions below. If you didn't answer last Friday's please do that first, please, m'kay, thanks.
Alright! Here it is! This time I'm just doing a poll!
Now, YOU HAVE TO BE HONEST!! Give it a minute to sink and and really think about your answer.
If you're playing along with Mr. Linky, be sure to put your clever title of your post when you put your name in.
Okay, the poll.......
I'm saying right off the bat that what I'm about to post about is simply an observation. However, I've observed that I am totally a part of this whole thing.
Typically when I'm around any group of women, any group, there will inevitably be a conversation or twenty about food, weight, weight loss, weight gain, exercise, dieting, and/or what we do or do not like about our bodies. I would go as far as saying it that this topic is one of the main topics within women's conversations.
Again, I'm totally singling myself out here. I'm by far, one of the worst. I'll go on and on about my hormone issues or what exercises I'm doing. But, why do I do that? Why do I/we feel the need to talk about it so much?
I can't think of a time that body images issues or food issues didn't come up in a group. Is it that much of who we are that we can't even not talk about it?
I guess so.
I'd like to be a fly on the wall in a men's group. Now, we all know that there will be many a thing different about our conversations, but there will most certainly be one thing that stands out to me: they won't be talking about their jean size and what they had to eat for the last week and what they need to cut out tonight at dinner!
I'm not sayin' we can't talk about this, I'm just sayin' I'm interested in the fact that we talk about it so much.
Why is this? How much of our culture influences what we talk about, what we think about? How much of our time is spent on thinking about our body image regardless if we think it's an "issue" or not?
Are we top heavy (pardon the pun) when it comes to considering/worrying about our body image? Honesty, I know I am and I'm really seeking Christ to help me stop being so concerned with it and start occupying more of my time considering His body image. (ooo, that was good.)
Thoughts?
I Wonder
What will my kids do with Jesus when they grow up?
I remember
My grandfather's voice and realize that it's because of him that I love to teach.
I understand
That although I may never get it all "right" I am God's Beloved.
I celebrate
the day that He rose from the dead and made all things right.
I hate
those who hurt children.
I find
that the older my children get, the more my heart aches.
I doubt
that I will have the pleasure of meeting my greatest mentors this side of eternity.
I struggle
With loving myself the way Christ does.
I laugh
at a lot.
I cry
when others hurt.
I honor
those who give up the American Way and head for the Nations.
I ache
for everyone to know God intimately and to know His Word crazy like.
I tremble
at the fact that the Living God lives in me.
I bow
at the fact that I am but one woman called by one amazing Savior.
I grin
knowing that my husband thinks I'm the cat's meow.
I pray
that the power of Christ would rest on my children.
I consider
Dave Ramsey and hope to be as cool as he is.
I eat
Oreo's because they are the best cookie hands down.
I love
reading the words of great thinkers who have already walked this thing called life.
I believe
in the wonders of God and in his most thrilling son, Jesus.
It's not a good thing when I have a little extra cash because, well, I like to spend it.
On Friday, Hubs and I got our tax return. After a few pay-downs of some debt, we have some money to spend and, well, I tend to want to run right out and buy something. It's doesn't have to be much, but it's usually the things I wouldn't just go buy like, say, a salad spinner, or a video camera, or new flooring. You know, small things.
So, we have starting floor shopping and to be quite honest, I'm kind of a floor snob. I'd love real wood floors, but I believe that we won't be here much more than another year or so and I don't want to put the money down for real hardwood floors, so we'll just go laminate and be done with it.
Then there is the tile. We're going to retile our kitchen because someone in 1984 thought it would be cool to put in white tile. Seriously...it's the same dude (and I say dude because no woman would do this) who puts fluorescent lights in women's bathrooms and hotel bathrooms.
Really? Fluorescent?
So, this week we're going to go down to the Habitat for Humanity Renovation Station where we can get laminate wood flooring for $.89 per sq. ft. and some sweet tile for about, well, I can't remember, but it's cheap.
Not that I want to give the next owners poopy floors, I just don't want to give them my hardwood bamboo flooring that I'm holding out for. Ya see?
So, as soon as Pastor JT gets all that installed, I'll let you see.
Now, about the tax return. Pastor JT and I had a little disagreement: Do we tithe on it?
Here's the deal. Being a "pastor" JT can opt our of Social Security and also we have a housing allowance that is quite substantial. So, we only do our taxes on a certain amount of income and therefore we receive quite the check back from the guv'ment. Well, since they're handin' it out anyway.........by. the. billions.....(okay, enough on that)
Anyhoo! We get a check and then every year we go back and forth on if we should tithe on it. He says yes, I say, uuuhhh. So very Biblically savvy, I know.
This year, however, I prayerfully took this to Christ and here's what I think is going to be a great thing. Instead of putting 10% back to our church, we're going to put that 10% into an account and use it for family missions, or supporting a child, or being able to give out of that account as the Lord leads.
Whaddya think?
JT thought it was a great idea and we have agreed that is how we'll tithe this sweet little check. And now I'm happy because 1) I get to give in a cool, creative way and 2) I get new floors and 3) I get a salad spinner.
I was working out, watching the clouds roll in, listening to my kids play outside and wondering if it was going to get dicey or not.
I peeked out, Nah, I thought to myself. Might get a little loud and rainey, but hey, it's February...no naders.
Boooooooooop
Boooooooooop
(that's the siren's going off)
Boooooooooop
Man! I had just sat down to read and study. I get up, head to the living room, firmly tell Boog to keep a lid on it so I can hear Weatherman Gary tell me what to do.
I'm not kidding, my poor Boog pert near had a panic attack over this whole thing.
Not only did I turn on the TV, but I brought my computer in so I could use The Twitter to tell all my Tweeps what was up.
I gotta tell you: In the 19 years I lived in OK I never took cover. Well, that might have something to do with the fact that the house I grew up in was built into a hill and was made of cement, but whatever. (That's the back. From the front it looks like a one story. My room was the one second from the right on the bottom. Just in case you're wondering.)
Well, yesterday was eventful, now wasn't it? If you don't know what I'm talking about then, here, lemme give you a clue....
THERE WAS A TORNADO TWO MILES FROM MY HOUSE!
Now you know.
What's really funny is that post down yonder about how I lurve living in Oklahoma and how tornadoes beat earthquakes by a land slide. Uh, after yesterday, I'm considering Orange County.
But, more on that later....
For now, I've linked up with SWAK with "We Are THAT Family" for a little bit of lovin' on my hubs for the big V-day comin' up.
All I'm saying is that this guy is the one I want to have all my Valentine's with. So far we're on year 14 with the Valentines and I think I like it!
***UPDATE! Sarah has a rebuttal. When you're done here, go read her reasons why earthquakes win. Pssh, right.***
After much ado on The Twitter (thankyouCindyBeall) with Sarah Markley about Tornadoes vs. Earthquakes, I've decided to do a short, sweet little post on the reasons why Tornado Alley totally blows away Orange County/Earthquake Death Trap. Aaaand, the reasons follow with, (clap now) My Drawings. thankyouverymuch.... (I do realize I made up some words here...)
Tornadoes are Dodgeable
Tis true, you can out run a tornado, I've done it and so has my brother-in-law even though he didn't realize that we was actually in the rain wrap around an F5. Whatever. Easy Squeezy.
Earthquakes are not Dodgeable
Seriously, where ya gonna go? Underground? Death trap. Roof? Death trap. Street? Crack-open-and-suck-you-down-death-trap. In your closet? Need I go on?
The truth is: I'm not much of a planner. I think all y'all know that by now, but let me see if I can help ye understand....
I keep running lists. However, there is a good chance that if I have a list they end up under a stack of other lists that have yet to be checked off. I also do spreadsheets. However, sometimes it can be months, nay, years before I return to the spreadsheet that was to "save my life and rid us of all our financial failures and bobbles".
I have a "My Notebook of Stuff" spiral that keeps all my random thoughts bound up in, well, a spiral. And, I actually have it titled that way in green permanent marker. Sho 'nuf do.
I also have a Big notebook, three ring binder to be exact, that keeps my calendar in it, some lists of blog stuff, usernames and passwords, some financial stuff, and some other lists. There quite possibly could be a recipe tucked away in there for when I'm feeling like I should plan my meals again for a month or so.
I have a financial folder that houses many paid bills, stamps, unpaid bills, and a bunch of stuff that needs to be filed. About my filing system. I have sorta a filing system: manila folders with stuff shoved in them. However, the manila folders do have written on them what's inside.
Still, I was just looking at my said manila folder filing system stack, and low and behold, there's Monkey's social security card and birth certificate. Huh, so that's where that was. At least it was "filed."
Now, another thing that I like to do is pretend I'm a stick-to-it kind of girl. But, this time, I'm not pretending. I've actually been quite consistent with exercise, as of late, even though I have not told all y'all because, well, I didn't want to make it all about how I'm SO going to get in shape and then, waddya know, I quit.
But, through Mandy Thompson and Tam at inProgress I found a site that just might help me stick to it. You too, my dear reader, might find this place just intriguing...
It's called "stickK" and it's a website where you can make a contract with yourself to accomplish any kind of goal! Weight loss, write a dissertation (if you're into that kind of thing), move to a different location, try all the chili in the world, etc., etc.
And if you're really crazy, you can put money on it. Like you can "pay" $100 to do something, and if you don't do it, it goes to a charity of your choice, or a friend, or an enemy. But, if you DO do it (I typed do-do), uh, I think you keep your money. I can't remember. But, you don't HAVE to do the money thing. Nope, stickK is free.
THEN, you can have people hold you accountable, journal your stuff, have friends doing it to and on and on.
I'm giving it a go. Maybe the computer people will help me actually complete my goal. I can finish goals, I mean heck! I did a senior college piano recital with NO MUSIC and it was an hour long: Beethoven, Listz, Bach, and Gershwin (to name a few...but I digress into shameless arrogance and self-promotion).
So, head on over to stickkK if you're interested in doing anything on any time line. The only trick is, you have to actually remember to go back to the web site. Huh, this could get tricky.
Iiiiiit's FRIDAY!!!! And that means it's time for the quick and simple...
Remember the little "hiccup" with my husband. Well, after we had our amazing connection's night, I decided to give him a gift. (Not THAT kind of gift! Sheesh, people, this is a family blog!)
Now, my dear husband will do whatever to make me happy; like giving me an office, buying me pens and notebooks, buying me a computer and letting me read his books before he does. And, when it comes my relationship with the Lord, he is the most amazing encourager and wants me so much to grow with Christ as much as possible. That means, I have little nooks to have my quiet time in, like my office or the chair by my bed.
These things are fantastic for me: Bible, journal, coffee, maybe music, usually not. This is where I connect with the Lord. In reading, in praying, in journaling.
Hubs? Not the same. He has always talked about making a prayer room for us. A place where we could disappear and have the whole atmosphere conducive to prayer. We don't have a place like that, and for me, that's okay. However, for JT, let's just say he's more into nature, connecting with God without distraction.
He can't just sit on the couch and pray. I mean, he can, but it's really distracting.
All that to say, after our wonderful night on Monday, I got it. I realized that JT doesn't have the place where he can go and just be with Christ. So, I decided to give him a gift...his own little prayer room. (But...he has to share.)
Can we talk about feet for just a minute? Spring is just around the corner and that means flip-flops are soon to come crawling out of the closet...
...and it frightens me.
People, I have some ugly feet. They are a petite size six-ish, six and a half, but dude, they are a fright. My poor heals could BE the loofa-thingy at the pedicure spa. I could just rub my feet with yours and save you the $35 you'd be giving to that poor girl scrubbin' your feet!
Oh, I do not look forward to flip-flop days because I do not have a handle on these nasty Frodo feet! So, here's what I need from you...what in the WORLD do you do for scary, thick, cracked skin on the bottom of your sweet tootsies? Do you even deal with such an atrocity?
I use Burt's Bees Coconut Foot Cream and it is amazing. That I won't stop using. But, what have you found works best for the scrubbing part? What will get after the rhino-skin and prep my feet for the soon to be flip-flop/open heeled stiletto weather?
I'm thinking if I don't find something soon, I'll have to go out to the garage, find the metal grinder attachment thingy to the drill and get bizz-eh!
Quick, help a sista out!
Last night was one of those nights. I'd been simmering all day and was so glad when Pastor JT called and said he had arranged a sitter and we were going out. I wasn't angry or ready to fight, I just had some things I needed to get off my chest and there could be a good chance tears would follow. You know, one of those nights.
So, Pastor JT gets home and we piddle around, not really talking, not mad, but aware that there are things to be discussed while we wait to leave. The time rolls around for Monkey to go to bed and our sweet sitters (married couple) show up and hang with the big girls for awhile.
Everyone is tucked safe inside the house and we head out.
You see, in a marriage, if you're not continually deliberate with communication it can break down. Slowly, over a period of weeks or months, things can get left unsaid, heart-moments are passed by, and the marriage isn't "connecting."
This is where we were last night. No big problems. No major events. It's just our connection needed to be plugged back in, and that meant a "talking" date night. No movie (which we both love) just talking.
So, he asked me to start sharing...and I did....but it was more like the "You always..." and "You never..." instead of, "Honey, let me tell you what's going on with me."
Well, that didn't go well. He got defensive and I got tearful, okay weepy, and a I decided to take good look out the passenger window for a good ten minutes. Yeah, that'll show him. *sniff, snort, snot, sniff*
Let me just say this: Pastor JT and I are not yellers. We never have been and so a "fight" for us is just tense talking. As so it was.
The next thing said was, "What do you want to drink?" Starbucks saves the day!
And then a miracle happened. THE event that turned the whole night around...he drove through Arby's.
It's amazing what a little food on a tense moment can do. Within fifteen minutes, I had shared my deepest spiritual thoughts that were tucked away over the last few weeks with Pastor JT while munchin' on a Jr. Roast Beef and curly fries. And for the next hour and a half we sat, talked, drove, talked, filled up the car, talked, drove around the state capital, and reconnected all over again.
It was a great night together, and one we needed for awhile now. Next time I feel tension rise between the hubs, I think I'll hold up the hand of silence and say, "Honey, before we go any further...I'm thinkin' Arby's."
My house has all the normal things, living room, bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, office. There's nothing fancy, no extreme bells and whistles. There's five people who live here and often times there is (as Brennan Manning calls her) my Impostor walking right next to me.
She will follow me from room to room doing many a mischievous thing: a critique, a nag, a reminder of what I don't have or what I think I need, a jab, an applause, a telling of an old story of what I used to do. She's not my friend. She's my Impostor, but I live with her and she with me. We cannot be separated...or can we?
Come on over to Stiletto Army and read more at...
Little churches scattered over this country have just clicked on their heaters for another Sunday. They are small, old churches that echo and smell of fresh brewed coffee. I can hear laughter and greetings of attendees who have walked through the same double doors for decades.
Coats and ties, pantie hose and slips. Someone is playing an organ as the members come in the doors, shake hands, and take off their coats. Just down the hall are a few Sunday School rooms. One has an old piano dedicated to the old lady who used to play it. A few dusty Bible's sit on top of it. There's a picture of Jesus holding a lamb. One room has a few toys and a wallpaper border of clowns and blocks.
There's thousands of little churches getting ready for this morning. Communion cups are filled. Bulletins are printed. Offering plates at the ready. Pastor's looking over their notes one more time, praying that You would come and change someone today. Men like Robin Sigars, Adam Turner, David Cook, and Jim Witcher have readied your Word. Bless them, Father. Speak through them.
These churches are not full of perfect people or programs, but neither are the big ones where thousands attend. Each have those who would die for You and those who can't wait to get to lunch.
I have been both.
They have those challenged and enraptured by Your Word and those whose eyes are weighted like cinder blocks have been clipped to their eyelashes.
I have been both.
Stomachs growl. Hearts break. Minds wander. Giggles suppressed. Tears fall. They are full of worshippers and mockers, lovers and strangers, lost and found, old and young, those with plenty and those with nothing.
Your churches. Your people. They gather for one reason --whether it be out of habit, compulsion, conviction, guilt, force or joy--they have gathered for You.
Be in their midst, dear Jesus. Touch them all deeply with you love. Speak through the four year old teacher, the tired minister, the old hands of the greeter. And, receive their worship. Receive it from the cries of the infant to the applause from the sanctuary. Be blessed, dear Lord.
We gather for you.
