A Little Pre-Thanksgiving Laugh

I know this commercial has been around for a while, but it still makes me laugh. Especially as I remember celebrating an early Thanksgiving at the beginning of the month with my side of the family and we ended up with a 36 pound (!) turkey a friend of the family had raised. It was HUGE and if raw poultry wasn't still grossing me out so much, I would have taken a picture of Abigail next to the gobbler as it was bigger than her.

Of course, the Thanksgiving that my mom chased one of my sister's around the kitchen with a turkey neck still ranks as the most memorable for me.

No, I don't have a strange sense of humor, why do you ask?

I'd Rather Have a Tooth Pulled

If you ever hear me say that, you'll know it is a serious, serious matter.  Either that or I'm in serious need of having some sense knocked into me.  Let the Spirit lead you.

After having a year and a half of issues with a tooth, it was extracted today.  Two days after I had oral surgery to determine the source of my trouble.  Until today, there were no answers as to why I was experiencing pain, infection, and bone loss.

When the tooth was removed, perforations in the tooth that were never sealed from a root canal were discovered and determined to be the root of the problem.  Pun totally intended.

As the pain medication and numbing agents wear off and I realize I have another two hours before I can take anything, I'm developing a new life strategy.  Having a tooth pulled could be my new motivator.  My new measurement.

For example, would I rather sit in traffic for an hour or have a tooth pulled?  

Or...would I rather spend the night with someone throwing up all over me or have a tooth pulled?

Discover my shirt is inside out after speaking in public or have a tooth pulled?

Puts a whole new perspective on things.  Gotta clean out a freezer that broke while we were on vacation?  No problem.  Match up 40 pairs of almost-identical-but-not-quite socks?  Piece of cake.     

So I'll choose to focus on that instead of the fact that I cannot have the one thing I was looking forward to today (outside of the normal hugging my kids responses) because I'm not allowed to drink through a straw for 24 hours.  

A milkshake, or five, would've made this so much better. 

Slap In The Face(book)

I realized about an hour ago that neither of my phones rang today.  Isn't that weird?  Not even a person trying to sell insurance or cheap medications to any person over 65 in our home.  It was actually pretty nice since I would guess 90% of our calls are solicitors.  

That really has nothing to do with this post, but it did get me to thinking about communication.  Which got me thinking about an encounter I had a few months ago.

So before I begin, let me try to make one thing clear...I don't think it's wrong for you to be on Facebook, but it's wrong for me.  As I've shared some of my feelings about it (see 10 reasons here), I feel I may be a little misunderstood.  Please don't feel like you must give me all the reasons you are on Facebook.  I'm not judging you based on my personal opinions, preferences, whatever.  M'kay?  Please believe me!  And put that list away, please. *wink*

A lot of it boils down to self protection and that of my family.  I don't think I can handle the self discipline, the temptation.  I still feel out of it sometimes, friends laughing over a shared story and I have no clue what they're talking about.  I have to be okay with that and I pretty much am. 

At times I've wondered if I can still be relevant in today's world without joining Facebook though.  And one Sunday morning in church had me questioning where I stood more than any other time.

I was sitting next to a pretty young woman I had never met.  Probably feeling a little self conscious because she was also dressed very stylish and well, I'm usually not.  Anyway, I was really pleased when we had the opportunity to introduce ourselves before the message that day was given.

As we began sharing a little about ourselves, I thought maybe I had made a new friend for the first time during one of those "meet and greets".  She suggested getting our children together to play and grabbed her purse to write down my information.  In the midst of this, she asked if I was on Facebook?

I gently smiled and said, "No."  And that's when it all came to a crashing halt.  

My new friend informed me, "That's too bad.  It's how I keep up with everybody and get to know them. I schedule all our playdates that way too."  She gave a little shrug to say sorry and she pretty much had nothing else to say to me.  I told her it was nice meeting her and then sat there a little bewildered.

Was I missing it here?  Missing potential friendships.  Missing ministry opportunities.  Was I wrong not to be on Facebook?  I began to question God about my decision.

Then I had to laugh inside.  A sad laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.  What have we come to if Facebook is the only way we communicate with one another?  The only way we can be "friends"?  It's one of my biggest issues with social networking for goodness sake. 

I admit I felt a little rejected at first also, then I had to laugh at that too.  You know what, I just might be worth the extra "effort" to get to know without Facebook being involved.  

If God can remain relevant in this digital world, then so can I.  At least I know I'm in good company. *smile* 

Once again I have to say, "No thanks, Facebook. I'm not interested in what you have to offer. I need more."   

Sunday Confessions

• I turned 33 yesterday. 
• I'm still waiting to feel like a grown up.
• Abigail has been completely weaned for a week now.  After 4 years and 4 months of nursing someone it feels really good.  I'm going to enjoy these next four months of freedom. *sigh*
• When Abigail was born, I tandem nursed her and Samuel for about 10 months.  Something I don't ever really care to do again.  Unless I had twins, of course.
• I can finally eat peanut butter again during this pregnancy.  I'm glad to add it back to my list since I'm still having a hard time with food most days. 
• I enjoy peanut butter the way most women like chocolate.        
• My husband learned how to can this weekend.  His first conquest?  Fourteen quarts of green beans.  Go honey!
• I found a ticket stub to a New Kids on the Block concert while I was cleaning out all my junk prized possessions. I think my eyes teared up when they rode motorcycles in the street before the concert - so close, yet so far away. *cringe*
• In middle school, some friends and I thought we would come up with a female equivalent to NKOTB. The name of the band was Sweet Street Peace Posse. Yeah, I don't know.
• I have now completely humiliated myself.  Must find rock to hide under...

Hope you're enjoying your Sunday!

Somebody

Once in a while someone asks me if I miss the job I left to stay at home with my kids.  And the answer for the most part is an honest no.  I would not give up the opportunity to be with my precious babies to pursue what was a successful career.  I enjoyed it thoroughly, but I've only got this one season in life with my children and this is what God has called me to do in it.

I mean sure, there are times when I get to the end of a day and feel like I have nothing to show for the work I did.  It would be nice to finish something and have it stay that way.  Like a clean room.  Or even a clean child. *wry grin*  But even then I try not to get frustrated, because I know one day I will miss having sticky fingers grab my face to give me wet kisses.

So it's very rare that I feel a pang for that woman who used to wear business suits every day.  My pajamas are way more comfy anyway.

I've been cleaning out our "schoolroom" that has really served as a dump storage space more than anything else so that we can actually do things with less risk of little ones interfering with school work.  More square footage is always a plus.  It has been a lot of work, but has been so incredibly freeing -which is a great representation of what God has been doing spiritually for me also.  As my home is being physically restored, so is my soul. 
 
One day as I was cleaning, I came across some old things from my working life.  Certificates and plaques, old training materials, resumes, and I even dug out some old notebooks that had been tucked away in a deep pocket in a bag I used to carry.  

And that's when I began trying to reconcile the working woman that was with this stay at home mommy.    Who was that girl? 

I found myself wanting to find someone and tell them that I used to be somebody.  Somebody who managed six figure budgets.  Somebody who ran and coordinated a large Dept. of Justice initiative.  Somebody who had the trust of local, state, and federal representatives and other prominent figures in the community.  Somebody who could hold a thought and pee for longer than a minute.

Please don't get me wrong.  I think being a stay at home mom, homemaker (with or without children), or whatever other title you prefer is one of the noblest of professions.  I also happen to think it is one of the most difficult -on many different levels.  And I am having a hard time even confessing these thoughts I was having.

As I began to lose perspective and struggle with these thoughts, God in His loving kindness intervened.  He took me by the shoulders, looked me in the eyes, and said, "You are somebody.  I say so."  I could feel his breath blowing on me, freeing me and giving me life.  Reaching deeper than I am probably even aware at this time.

Reestablishing my identity.  Finding comfort in who I am.  And also in Who I am, for I am in Him.  Things I've known moving from my head into my heart. 

Somebody, it is who I am.  And it's who you are too.
 

He said so.

Name Game

Or more aptly named More Than You Wanted To Know About Names In My Life.

As we anticipate the arrival of our next little one, names (imagine that) are on my mind.  Or at least I'm thinking about names in our family.  Waiting for God to reveal His chosen name for this child.  And for some reason I'm a little impatient right now.

Perhaps because it would reveal the gender of this child.  Maybe because we see the direct connection between the meaning of names and the personalities of our children.  

As we wait, here are some of things that have crossed my mind as I've thought about names.  

• The names of my children have gained one letter in length in succession.  5, 6, and 7...will child number four's name be eight letters long?
• There were 6 children in my family growing up.  All of our names start with the letter "J".
• My first name is Jo and my middle name is Ann.  I was named after my father, Joseph Anthony.
• I love the name Jo, but have gone by Jo Ann for so long it almost seems foreign to try to go by it now.  Not to mention the fact that when I was in fifth grade I asked to go by "Jo" one day and the teacher made fun of it all day long.
• All of our children's names -first and middle- can be found in the Old Testament up to this point.  Not really on purpose, it's just the way it's happened. 
• My Puerto Rican grandmother's name is Jenny and my Anglo-Saxon grandmother's name is Juanita.  That has always cracked me up.

Now that I've completely bored you, do you have anything interesting about names in your family?

 

Morning Glory

I'm what you might call a conditional morning person.  I like to wake up slowly, lie in bed quietly and talk to the Lord.  Prepare myself for whatever I might face this new day.  Get up and soak in the stillness of the house.  Look out the window or even sit outside and watch the world awaken.    

The odds are typically not in favor for me to enjoy this type of morning.  So on the rare chance I do get to have one like this, I feel like I have received a special gift.  A love note straight from God. 

   
A quiet morning soothes me. Refreshes me.  Reminds me once again that His mercies are new for me this day. 

I look around and the day sparkles.  The newness of the day shines forth. 

As the sun reveals its face, God's promises seem so close to me.  Everywhere I look promise and hope are being freely offered.  Reaching out to me.  Inviting me.

And I know that He loves me.  No matter what the day might bring, His goodness is always all around me.

Bless the LORD, O my soul;  And all that is within me, bless His holy name!  Psalm 103:1

Hey Diddle, Diddle

Hey diddle, diddle
Jo Ann really wants a fiddle
The kids are jumping all over the place
The old house laughs at her attempts to clean
And her hips ran away with her waist

Where To Start?

I'm feeling a bit at a loss for words.  I suppose that's the problem with sporadic blogging, I just don't know where to start.  

Maybe I'd start with the story from this afternoon when Samuel and Abigail spilled some sort of green-blue liquid Caleb concocted (he named it poison) all over the boys' room.

Then maybe I'd tell you that Caleb accidentally broke the glass globe to their light when he lifted a toy in the air in frustration while the two little ones were demanding baths since their hands and feet were now stained with the "poison".

Or that unbeknownst to me as I was being cut cleaning up the said glass, Samuel and Abigail snuck out the back door to play on the swingset.  Completely naked.  

Perhaps I'd share the panic I felt in my stomach when Caleb asked where the two little ones were and the non-motherly feelings I experienced as I flew walked outside and suggested (ahem) they come back inside.  In my pajamas.

I could tell you that all this happened in a span of ten minutes.

Instead, I think I'll start with five things I am glad for:
1.  God gives rest to the weary.
2.  There is never a shortage of learning opportunities in our family. 
3.  Caleb
4.  Samuel
5.  Abigail  

If You Were A Fly On The Wall...

in the last 48 hours, you would have witnessed:

• Samuel dressed to go outside in his coat, underwear, and flip flops
• me having to hold Abigail with my legs and one arm in order to administer her breathing treatments for pneumonia...every 4 hours
• 4 loads of clean laundry on my couch
• 4 loads of dirty laundry by the washing machine
• 4 days of dirty dishes in/on the sink, counter, and kitchen table
• and a partridge in a pear a tree..oops, wrong post
• Abigail running out the back door naked
• a woman at the park giving me a mean look because Abigail ran out the back door naked
• the boys killing over 30 flies that are invading our house (gross!)
• good thing you weren't a fly on the wall, eh
• me discovering that Caleb was wearing shoes one and a half sizes too small
• me having to ask someone to repeat very simple directions twice because it was just not registering
• me discovering that Samuel was wearing his pants backward, at 2:00 pm, after we had been in public
• and a whole host of other head shaking things that all lead to one thing...
• me calling on Jesus a whole lot

Some Things Just Beg To Be Written

Out of extreme exhaustion...
Straight from the trenches...
Call it secondhand side effects of nebulized albuterol...
This is my gift to you.

You can thank me later.

Boogies, Boogies, Boogies

Boogies, boogies, boogies,
Boogies everywhere;
In your nostril, on a finger,
Maybe in your hair.

You never know what you'll get,
Yellow, green, or brown;
Some boogies stay put,
While others drip down.

Some are fresh,
Some are old,
Some like them in the pot
Nine days old.

Sticky, crusty, or gooey,
Boogies just the same,
Parents wipe them,
Kids hide 'em as a game.

Use a tissue,
Go ahead and pick,
Just whatever you do,
Please don't flick.

Do you roll it on your finger?
Does your mom suck out your brain?
Will they ever stop coming?
When can we get off this boogie train?

I'm drowning in boogies,
A living nightmare;
Boogies, boogies, boogies,
Boogies everywhere.

They Haven't Kicked Us Out

Yet.

Which is great news because we love the library. I mean love it. Like love love it.

If you're not utilizing your local library, you are missing out on a beautiful thing. If you homeschool and don't use your local library, then you need your head examined.

How's that for winning friends and influencing people? I think I have what it takes...

So, why would I consider the fact that our family is still allowed to patronize our library anything but normal? A good question that surprisingly does not involve outrageous late fees or ruined books.

I think.

And at any given visit it could involve loud children and running, but we've really been working on that.

Note: This post ended up longer than I thought it would so I'll have to share our other library stories another day...

It began many moons ago at one of their kids' book club meetings. The leaders of the club had decided they were all going to meet at a local park to observe wildlife after the regular reading time. A trip, by the way, that we were not joining. They were discussing this trip and talking about the things the children might do while enjoying nature there.

This would be about the time that my man cub piped up with the charming answer, "We could trap rabbits and kill them. Then we could use them for food."

In my defense...which does not include the fact that there are large rivers of testosterone flowing through this child...we had just finished reading The Sign of the Beaver by Elizabeth George Speare. A book in which a young boy is left to protect his family's homestead and fend for himself. A book where the young boy has to catch and kill his own food. It spoke to the inner survivor and provider dwelling inside my son.

And judging by the looks on the faces of the two volunteers, I needed a defense. They were visibly shaken by my son's answer. This might be a good time to mention that I don't think they have any sons between them. It might also be worth noting that I think they could be members of PETA.

Oh, and they happen to be more than slightly influential in our area. Especially when it comes to getting banned from children's activities in various venues across town. Wonderful...

One was speechless. The other vigorously disagreed, went into a speech about the importance of not harming animals, and quickly wrapped up the session.

I was already feeling a bit awkward because we were the only homeschoolers and these are the people we left choking on the dust at the elementary school as we embarked on our homeschooling journey. So naturally, I felt like they were already looking at me like I had two heads and leprosy. After that comment, I was upgraded to two heads, leprosy, and a pair of horns.

The funny thing is, it was their fault. After all, the book did come from their library. And they encourage children to read.

So, like a good mother, I graciously collected our things and we went home as planned.

Then I ordered two books about trapping rabbits in the wild.

A First Time For Everything

Sunday marked an unbelievable day for me. I'm still shaking my head over it.

It was the first time in my life I ever wished there was not snow on the ground. Ever, I tell ya.

Except maybe when I was a teenager who was just too cool and HAD to be somewhere. But that doesn't count due to hormones and lack of common sense.

I'm a snow lover and this has been the best winter. It's what winter was made for. I was also able to tolerate the cold very well this year because I could see all the white stuff.

Isn't it so awesome how God made all four seasons. All so different, yet wonderfully enjoyable!

With a gorgeous February day teasing us to come out and run, this mommy really wanted to be out there. Not all that unreasonable since snow has been covering the ground for at least three weeks now.
But, I'm also just a little bit excited about gardening season being around the corner. 'Cause I want to do this:

Can you smell the freshly turned ground? I cannot be held responsible for my actions around this stuff. Last year I wanted to lay down and roll in it. I may just go for it this year.

I can't help it. It's in my blood. It calls me.

Resistance is futile.

And I can't wait to see things like this:

I love seeing our family work together. The boys were (usually) more than willing to help plant, rake, and harvest. The way we bonded over small victories against voles, groundhogs, and rabbits. All vying for position through the summer as public enemy number one.

Every time I use something we've put up for the winter, I smile. There's a sense of satisfaction. Of accomplishment. So deliciously wonderful.

Remind me of that this summer when I sweating buckets preserving our bounty.

On second thought, don't.

Oh The Temptation

Unbelievably, this not about pan gravy. Because pan gravy is always on my mind these days. If it weren't for fear that the small percentage of my waistline that remains would abandon me, I'd probably be eating that stuff every day. I know, I know, it's sad. Somebody send help quickly. Please.

But like I said, this isn't about gravy or even anything breaded. It's about my ongoing conflict with the "F" word. Facebook.

I've mentioned a couple reasons (or ten) why I have shunned the networking superstar before, but I find it's not always easy to resist its lure. Crazy how left out you can feel by not joining. All the things you're missing out on. *sigh*

I feel weird even admitting that.

So once again I find myself toying with the idea of signing up. Am I just being ridiculously stubborn about it? Would I be able to connect more with the people in my life? You know, maybe even feel like I have tons of friends.

The answer is probably yes to both of those questions. Yet, I still have to pass on the whole thing. It's kind of a matter of survival for me. I just do not want another thing consuming my time. Now, I've tossed around the idea of Twitter, just to be silly every once in a while, but I really don't want to use it for any other reason. Am I allowed to do that?

I just know that Facebook would steal way more time than I have to give. Or rather, I would allow it to steal way too much time. I've spent the last couple months working hard to minimize my time on the computer and don't want to get sucked back into the neverending vortex of cyberworld. You know, there's tons of great stuff and people out there, but I can only be inspired so much. There comes a time to put your inspiration into action. Otherwise, what's the point.

I'm not sure if it will make sense, but it kind of feels like a sacrifice. Maybe that just shows how much I kinda-sorta-wanna be part of the "in" crowd. *smile*

So, I find myself with no choice but to continue to exercise my one show of self discipline and remain out of the loop. Resting in the knowledge that it puts me closer to where I truly want be and the things I really want. Family. Simplicity.

For now I'll remain "on the outside looking in".

If only I could show this much self control with gravy.

Potty Trained...Finally

Words that I began to wonder I would ever be able to say when it came to Samuel. Because this whole potty training thing has been going on for so. very. long. In fact, here is when I first thought we were on track to getting him out of diapers. In June of 2008.

He was doing so well and then he just lost interest. And then I may or may not have gotten lazy with it. As time passed, I began to get desperate. I even broke out good old bribery. And he still wasn't interested. What can I say, I guess he was holding out for better deals.

Out with the bribery and in with the begging and pleading. The boy was immune. Not even a mother's tears could send him to visit the porcelain throne. Knowing his friends were using the bathroom did not sway him either. Where do you go when peer influence holds no persuasion?

The kid is good. Maybe even Navy Seal good.

Needless to say, visions of graduation parties and diapers were dancing in my head.

I had been praying about the situation, but not really on a consistent basis. And it probably involved additional begging and pleading. Then after earnestly seeking God about our dilemma one day (okay my dilemma, because I was so over changing his diaper), it all came together.

One morning Samuel asked to go to his favorite restaurant, a local pizza place that we all happen to love. That's when what some might call genius, I call it divine inspiration, struck me. A potty party. A pizza potty party.

We got to go celebrate his latrine success that night with his very own pizza potty party. And unlike Caleb, I didn't care who knew what our celebration was about. I was celebrating! I mean, I even had a Dr. Pepper. It was that serious.

So, we kept celebrating. We had potty parties every night until it just became part of his natural routine. Chocolate cake. Candy corns. Oh, the glorious fruits of positive reinforcement that he reaped.

You know, I'm going to have to consider throwing a party the next time I'm tired of any, shall we say, poop in my life. Just start celebrating until I find breakthrough.

Anyway, I'm proud to say that a month later, he is still going strong. No pun intended.

Thanks, God, for caring about all the things in our lives!

My Winter - A Poem and A Recipe

Good Winter

Much Snow

Happy Faces

Warm Hearts

Paula Deen

Snow Cream

Oh My

Love Handles

Because I'm all about sharing the love...handles, this is the recipe from the Food Network website (courtesy of Ms. Paula Deen) that we've been using to make snow cream this year. It's super easy.

You will need:

• 1 tsp. vanilla extract
• 1 can sweetened, condensed milk (14 oz.)
• 8 cups of snow

Put the snow in a large bowl and add the vanilla extract and condensed milk. Mix until all the ingredients are combined. Enjoy!

I've used more snow than it calls for so it isn't quite so sweet and because I've found the recipe doesn't yield the portions that my crew consumes. I've also frozen some and made milkshakes with it. Yummy!

Humiliation Nation Goes International - Part 2

Go here if you missed the first part of this glorious story where I have one of the more humiliating moments of my life...

If the toilet could have swallowed me up, I would have gladly flushed myself. I could not believe that the entire team was waiting on me. That the entire team knew I had...had...well, you know what I had.

I begged. I pleaded. Leave without me. Let me stay in my room and get through this "issue" myself. And they would not consent. Now only had my situation become public knowledge, but now they were running late because of me. Could this get any worse?!

They would not relent and somehow missed the concept of what I was going through. Not understanding how these people could not comprehend or sympathize with my predicament, I unhappily collected myself, desperately praying that I could make it on the bus ride to our destination without some sort of accident.

I walked swiftly to the bus with my head lowered. I could not look the 20+ people (a few local pastors had joined our group now and were also aware of my problem) in the eyes knowing that they knew. Knew that I had held them up while I took care of business. I quietly answered their questions concerning my well being while my stomach continued to declare mutiny.

I sank into my seat wishing no one could see me and that this would all go away. I closed my eyes and began to just worship God. I soon found peace...in my soul and stomach. I still had some discomfort, but I knew I was safe until we reached the host church.

I sat listening to the others and continued to collect myself. Maybe they would forget. At the least they wouldn't mention it. I could put this behind me. (No pun intended.)

As someone began to engage me in conversation, one of the team leaders came over. A loud man full of zeal. He ordered me to stand up so that he could pray for me. Why hadn't I tried to flush myself?

I stood up feeling defeated. He began praying. Loudly. The others got quiet. And I...I was not feeling very spiritual at all. I have never not wanted someone to pray for me as much as right then. I fought through my emotions and tried to be thankful that these people cared.

And I was thankful.

Right up until he began yelling about my bowels. My bowels! Commanding them to function properly. My head began to swirl. My stomach began to hurt all over again.

Just when I couldn't have been more humiliated, he drove the nail in the coffin. This could not be happening. Why was I not waking up from this nightmare?

Eventually the prayer ceased. I managed to squeak out a thank you and lowered myself into my seat, thankful that the bus was dark and no one could see my face.

I love passionate people. I love to hear passionate people pray. Just not when it involves screaming about my bowels. I'm picky like that.

Humiliation Nation Goes International - Part 1

It's time. I am so overdue at sharing something completely humiliating. It's what makes me tick.
Not really, but who doesn't enjoy a good laugh? Plus, it sure does help keep me from taking myself too seriously.

I was on my very first international missions trip. It was such a huge deal for me. A dream I've had for years. One I still possess. I had packed my suitcase with great care. Including my Pepto-Bismol. Something I never left home without and usually the first thing I packed making any trip.

On the final night I realized that I managed to make it through the whole trip without a single, um, digestive problem...if you know what I mean. I used to have a very sensitive stomach and was very concerned that I would be plagued throughout the trip with numerous runs to any available restroom.

Which given the country, there weren't going to be a whole lot of options when we were out. If I was lucky (or should I say blessed since this is about a mission trip? *wink*), a communal outhouse would be available.

When I reached the end of this trip without any issues, I was thrilled. And thankful. You can question my faith, I just know that this was a reality for me for years. Throw on top of that an extremely sketchy food and water system and some unsanitary and unsavory conditions. Then add other team members afflictions and you can't help but wonder if you might be next.

I was thinking on this personal "miracle" as I dressed for a special goodbye service at our host church. And that's when it hit. I started having abdominal cramping and knew what would soon follow. I informed my roommate (a very dear friend of mine) that I was not feeling well and quickly moved to our hotel bathroom. Where I remained for the next twenty minutes.

I could hear the rest of our team gathering outside the hotel to load our bus and my roommate was urging me to make haste. Not exactly something that I felt was in my control. I prayed. I cried. I writhed as only one on a toilet can writhe.

By this point, the whole team, all 20 or so blessed people, knew my "condition". Several other team members gathered to encourage me to just get on the bus. They all knew. Twenty men and women knew I was stuck on the pot. I was mortified.

To be continued...

Farewell To Summer 2009

Last year I posted a few somethings that happened during summer 2008. So I thought I'd share a few somethings from summer 2009. Makes sense, right?

Maybe not, sense may or may not be something I'm accused of possessing...like when I put a wig on my baby. It still makes me snicker.

Until I think of my baby being compared to George Costanza's mother (Seinfeld).

My summer somethings. Version 2009.

• Something I found - a love for the Waltons tv series, I had never watched it until this summer
  
• Something I lost - a lot of vegetables in our garden to our abundance of town wildlife
  
• Something I learned - when Samuel draws on himself it releases an inner tribal instinct, complete with grunting and muscle making
• Something I wish I could forget - seven toys can fit in my toilet drain, it's now a known fact
• Something fun - staying up all night playing board games with my brothers and sisters
  
• Something not so fun - getting up at the crack of dawn with little ones after playing games all night with my brothers and sisters
• Something I worried about - Samuel's broken arm
  
• Something that drove me to my knees - the direction of our country
  
• Something sweet - the flowers and gift already waiting for me at our restaurant table on our anniversary
• Something ugly - my dental bills and the work I still need to have done
  
• Something I coveted- a Jersey milk cow (and land, still)
  
• Something scary - when Samuel almost drowned!
  
• Something that made me happy - my sweet, wonderful babies (all 3)
• Something unexpected - Caleb's unending appetite when it came to reading
• Something I finished - unpacking all the boxes from our kitchen renovation (from last summer)
• Something I tried - cloth diapers and I think we're ready to commit
  
• Something I made - canned goodies, like pickled peppers, peach jam, pasta sauce...

Goodnight, Jim Bob. Goodnight, Mary Ellen.

Goodnight, summer.

Face Value?

In the last several months, God has been peeling layers back in my life at an intense rate. I'm left feeling like an onion...exposed. Vulnerable. It's all good. Painful, but good because it's all about conforming to Him. Some of it, I haven't been able or even ready to share, but I've had one specific revelation about myself that's pretty in my face.

Most of my adult life, I have been pretty uncomfortable without wearing makeup. Especially when others around me have it on. I know that's insecure, etc., but the truth isn't very pretty. I'm not even sure when this thing got such a grip on me.

For the record: I am not saying make up is bad. But the reality for me is that I typically only feel good about my face when I am wearing some. And that's bad. For a number of reasons of which only one I'm going to get into.

What I've come to realize in the past two weeks is the impact that this issue of mine has or could have on my children. Enter the revelation. As the primary example of a wife and mother to my children, what exactly am I saying through this?

All I can say is...ouch. We were each wonderfully and fearfully created by Almighty God. Handcrafted by Him. I want my children to know that truth, to rest in that truth. And I have not been exhibiting this truth very well.

I want my boys to look so much deeper than beauty when contemplating marriage. And Abigail, my sweet Abigail. That she would be confident in God and who she is in Him and that she doesn't need anything else to make her beautiful. That my kids would know that the true beauty is His redeeming power and love in themselves.

Maybe this is a case of having head knowledge, but not having the full heart knowledge. I don't know, but here's to reestablishing my "image" in Him.