Though it be madness, yet there is method in it!

Zero Zero Niner

2012-01-25T10:13:00.001-05:00

Did you know that January is the least popular month to get married? December is popular because people get to double-dip on already-decorated-for-Christmas venues to save on flowers (among other reasons) and February is popular because of an alleged romantic holiday that actually began as an homage to a couple of martyred saints bearing the name Valentine.

January is cold and anti-climactic. So, in my opinion, what better time to celebrate a wedding...and subsequent anniversaries? It's kind of like having a birthday in August - where there are no other recognizable holidays. Yep. I do that too.

Today Sam and I celebrate our 9th wedding anniversary. Nine years of wedded bliss (and all of the realities that come with it).

(Because I can't post an anniversary blog post without one of these skinny teen pictures.)

He stuck with me as I went from single teen to teen wife. From teen wife to young mom. He's watched me try on so many hats as I went from college student to part-time college student/part-time engineer to full-time engineer while he finished his Masters degree. We've witnessed the birth of three beautiful and unique children and anxiously await the arrival of our fourth. He has tolerated the mood swings, the tears, the emotional roller coasters that accompany pregnancy, postpartum adjustments, and an unexpected job loss. I can count on one hand, at worst, the number of times I have heard him raise his voice and lose his patience. Some day, I have no doubts, that people will look back on his life and dub him Saint Sam - whether for putting up with me or not, that's up for deliberation. He is supportive, encouraging, and gentle. The kind of husband and father every man should be.

When we first got married, I was a big movie buff. I saw tons of movies in the theater and if I didn't, I saw them as soon as they were released on DVD. As time grew more precious, I stopped watching movies as much (and flushing movie ticket money down the toilet too), but I haven't stopped remembering some of the quotes from the countless movies I watched back then. Maybe it's cheating, but here's a mostly pre-2000's tribute via movie quotes to my awesome husband. (In the form of a quiz - answers at the bottom...because I'm just that big of a nerd.)

Name that Movie:

1. You make me want to be a better [wo]man.

2. In my opinion the best thing you can you do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person will still think the sun shines out of your ~~ass~~ hiney (This is a PG kind of blog). That’s the kind of person that’s worth sticking with.

3. Look, I guarantee there’ll be tough times. I guarantee that at some time, one or both of us is gonna want to get out of this thing. But I also guarantee that if I don’t ask you to be mine, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, because I know, in my heart, you’re the only one for me.

4. Well, it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were suppose to be together… and I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched [him]. It was like coming home… only to no home I’d ever known… I was just taking [his] hand to help [me] out of a car and I knew. It was like… magic.

5. When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.

And as for "Love means never having to say you're sorry" - let me just make one comment: That's wrong. Love means saying you're sorry on a daily basis, if necessary. And that's all I have to say about that.

Sam, Happy Anniversary! When we were newlyweds, I learned how to make sweet tea for you. Today, I finally learned to make Chocolate Delight. It only took nine years. (And it's not even hard.) Here's to nine times nine more years together. (Hey, it could happen!)

The Answers

1. As Good as it Gets

2. Juno

3. Runaway Bride

4. Sleepless in Seattle

5. When Harry Met Sally

State of the Mom-ion

2012-01-24T22:08:00.000-05:00

You absolutely love seeing your precious girls walk side-by-side to their room with their arms around each others' waists when Abby gets home from school, as if they waited all day long just to play together.

One of their favorite games is for Sarah to be the puppy and Abby to be the "master". When Abby tells the puppy to "Go to your cave", she listens. If only I wielded that kind of power over the little pup.

While unloading the dishwasher with her little sister your five year old started chanting "Unc-uh-see-us", as if it meant something. When I inquired as to the meaning she said, "It means I'm doing all of the work by myself....in Spanish."

When your eight year old checked out seven ginormous non-fiction books from the library you were filled with mixed emotions. It's awesome, but at the same time, this means you are subject to an endless stream of facts from books like Science Year by Year and Weird but True.

Your two year old got the ball rolling as the carrier of the winter cough this year. As soon as she got over it, the other two kids contracted it. The problem is, she still wants in on the medicine action. You're praying she just likes the flavor and this is not indicative of any future drug problems.

As your eight year old watched your husband masterfully jump, slide, and fly Mario through one of the Super Mario Wii worlds, he commented at the end, "Wow. That was lucky." Completely diminishing any and all skill involved. Hahahahaha.

When you look at this picture, you see lots of things: the love between two hands-on sisters, the dresses that they procured from the top bar of the closet (how they accomplished that, you don't even want to know), the toys scattered haphazardly about the playroom floor in a show of unbridled kid-joy, and the remote for your bedroom tv on the princess chair. So that's where that's been.

You hear some cabinets in the kitchen and, of course, this is what you find. Two sisters, hand-in-hand, standing on the kitchen counter.

Just look at that guilty, backwards look by the little one -

(Oh yeah, I'm "celebrating" their independence and the fact that they now have no excuse for not helping me put the dishes up.)

"Cheddar Bay Biscuits"

2012-01-23T22:21:00.000-05:00

Yeah, that's right. I used quotes in the title. To insinuate sarcasm.

Remember the list? I took some liberties on #69: Duplicate a restaurant favorite at home using Copykat.com.

You see, since I composed the list in 2009 (dang that seems like a long time ago), copykat.com has undergone some changes. And then there was the advent of Pinterest, which I confess, I still find overwhelming. But thanks to everyone else's Pinterest obsession coupled with my apparent Facebook obsession, I have come across some pretty cool ideas when they share their pins on my Facebook News Feed. (Life wasn't this complicated in 2009.)

So with everyone else doing the work for me, I don't have to ~~waste~~ spend hours wading through everyone else's ideas on Pinterest. Sometimes things just fall into my lap.

Like this little recipe for a knock-off of Red Lobster's Cheddar Bay Biscuits. Ta da! Blog readers, please meet the recipe I used for #69.

I'm not a real cook as evidenced by the fact that I waited over two years for a recipe that included items I keep in my pantry and that could be baked. And also by the fact that I use dry measuring cups to measure wet ingredients. (Oops.)

Tonight, we had these biscuits with our chicken & dumplings. They might not have been exactly like Cheddar Bay Biscuits, but they were pretty good.

Clearly someone liked them since one was missing a bite before they made it to the table.

And since I'm running out of time, I'm pregnant and grumpy, by golly, I'm checking this off the list.

#69 - You have been checked!

Somebody's Prayin'

2012-01-20T22:44:00.001-05:00

On Wednesday nights, for the past year, our pastor has been plugging away teaching through the Bible - we've gotten to Genesis 18. It's pretty in depth, in case that's not obvious. Last Wednesday, we had a sermon on intercessory prayer based on Abraham's conversation with God where he pled for the lives of any righteous people living in Sodom and Gomorrah.

Intercessory prayer is a huge deal in the life of Christians and should be a huge deal in the life of the Church. I think what got to me most was the prayer at the end. Our talented and tenderhearted pastor sang this song, acapella, during the prayer:

Earlier last week, I came face to face with a monumental life decision. I haven't had to make it yet, and I'm still in the process of...well...processing it. Let's just say, before I went to last Wednesday night's service, I felt my heart changing in a big way on something that all of my life I've been dead-set against. After Wednesday night's service, I came to understand...

Someone's been praying for me. I can feel it.

Now I've become one of those people who posts a vague ~~status update on Facebook~~ blog post and expects no one to ask me questions.

I'm sorry about that. I'm just not ready. But I will solicit some more prayers, if you can find time to pray for ~~little~~ big ol' [pregnant] me and my big ol' decision.

Still I went on 'cause there was someone
Who was down on their knees
And Lord. I thank you for those people
Prayin' all this time for me.

I suspect one day, in the not-too-distant future, I'll have a testimony similar to Paul's. I was once a persecutor, only to become persecuted. At least, this is my hope. God is making the way. I think He loves making transformations just like that. Expect the unexpected. He's keeping us on our toes.

Delight yourself also in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass … Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him. ~Psalm 37:4,7

Laughter in Retrospect

2012-01-17T11:09:00.001-05:00

I try not to complain too much. Although, if you ask Sam, I'm not very successful. I can already tell that there is truth to the wisdom that so many people tell me day in and day out - that these times with the kids go by too quickly, to cherish them, to enjoy them while I can, that I'm going to miss them when they're gone.

It's hard to fathom....

That I'm going to miss a bathroom rug covered in green kids' toothpaste just hours after putting it back down on the floor - because I felt industrious enough one day to wash and then hang dry them for the week it takes to get them completely dried.

That I'm going to miss finding piles and piles of crumpled up clothing that may or may not be clean on the floor of both of my girls' closets because they elect to change no less than a dozen times each per day.

That I'm going to miss perfect handprints left by pizza goldfish powder on my clean sheets, that once again, I finally washed, only to be soiled within literal minutes of putting them back on the bed.

That I'm going to miss the incessant inquiries for lollipops, sodas, chips, and "One more show" only to feel like a broken record when 19 times out of 20 the answer is a resounding "No."

That I'm going to miss the rapid deterioration of my body over the course of the day in my 8th month of pregnancy. Though I may wake up feeling like a new woman, by the afternoon I can feel my back starting to hurt, and by night time I'm so achy and sore that I might as well declare it rigor mortis.

Then I think back to that article I read "All Joy and No Fun: Why Parents Hate Parenting" and my subsquent response via blog post about parenting ages ago. The writers contended that studies show parents are inherently less "happy" than their childless peers. You can read how I feel about that if you're so inclined. I won't rehash for you again.

But apparently, at this point, I'm grumpy and dwelling on the temporary unpleasantries of the day-to-day in parenting. And now is when I need to recall the powerful conclusion to the original article. When a psychologist (and also a parent) posed the question:

"I think this boils down to a philosophical question, rather than a psychological one,” says Gilovich. “Should you value moment-to-moment happiness more than retrospective evaluations of your life?”

The awesome thing is that when I think back to the green toothpaste and the goldfish powder and the ripping, aching, uncomfortableness of late pregnancy, the memories will be painted with a different paintbrush than the one I'm holding now. I may or not "miss" these things, but I'll remember them with a fondness that God gifts only to parents in retrospect.

For right now, it's hard to appreciate the retrospective view, since I am in the throes of all of the stages I hope some day to appreciate more. I can think back to Ben's infancy and toddlerhood, but I'm living it with Sarah, and going through pregnancy at the same time, so it's slightly less glamorous than it one day will be. I know this for sure. One day, as I wave through teary eyes to my college-bound child and as I watch my husband walk one of our little girls down the aisle, I'll experience my "Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone" moment, and I'll give anything to have those cheesy handprints back.

I'm reminding myself of this today.

And, of course, all of the moments aren't ones I wish I could forget or hope to remember fondly someday.

We do plenty of laughing "in the present".

Mirth is God's medicine. Everybody ought to bathe in it. ~Henry Ward Beecher

Just another day in Momadise.

2012-01-11T14:12:00.001-05:00

Your eight year old turns his room into a veritable pantheon of projects after Christmas. And it's occupying his time so well, you can't even bear to tell him to clean it up.

Your two year old repeatedly calls you "Jesuit". Maybe not exactly, but it sure sounded like it. All you can think is this a slightly more sophisticated racial slur referring to your excessive frugality. Even your two year old makes fun of you for being cheap.

You didn't think about the implications of washing a Cinderella princess dress in the regular laundry. And then, your whole family's wardrobe was glitter-fied.

It's a bit of an understatement to say that your kids are not "morning people". (Yes, they really are asleep like that on the couch.)

An hour after you put your two year old down for bed, she emerged from her room, footies in disarray with a pronouncement, "I need go potty." Pretty awesome considering you haven't even touched night-time training.

Your two year old spends the better part of her day in her older sister's closet assembling new outfits. Her fashion sense is other-worldly. (Although, her ensembles are still probably better than her mom's full-body-red maternity outfits....even with the socks and sandals on the wrong feet.)

And let's not overlook the "extremely safe" idea the middle child had to sit on the fireplace in a stroller meant for baby dolls. Don't think for a second the two year old didn't try at least twice to push her down during the taking of this snapshot.

When the two year old emerged after breakfast this morning wearing this get-up, your five year old took one look at her, gasped, and said, "Sarah! You looked wonderful!!!" I guess this is all the encouragement she needs to change outfits 482 times daily.

You cannot say it enough, but the friendship between your girls has made every frustration of parenting completely worth it.

Once again, you "relish" your two year old's independence when she brings a gallon of milk off the top shelf of the fridge to you in the living room for a refill.

You told your five year old after school that she could either clean her room or take a nap, knowing full well she wouldn't choose the nap. Five minutes later, you checked on her because you heard some serious snoring from down the hall... Next time you tell her to clean her room at 4:30pm, you'll consider a different alternative choice.

After 2+ hours of "TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP" on our tile floors, you're absolutely certain the gift of the princess shoe collection was a mistake.

You make garlic toast with your five year old. You made a deal - she buttered, you sprinkled the garlic powder. On the last piece, as you waited for her to finish buttering you turned away to do....something. And when you turned back, she had taken garlic powder-ing into her own hands. First item on the next shopping list? Garlic Powder.

I'm Skilled in the Art of Eating Crow

2012-01-07T15:51:00.002-05:00

Of all of the contemptible traits I see in other people, arrogance ranks among the highest, in my opinion. I've always secretly delighted in seeing prideful people get a big dose of humility. That's wrong, isn't it? (Yes.) As I get older, and allegedly wiser, something has occurred to me...

I'm one of them.

I've tried compensating for my pride with overt self-deprecation. That doesn't work. I've channeled my energies into finding things about which I should and can feel insecure, but deep within me, there's just a big belly (literally) full of self-righteousness. It's a self-love that's the exact polar opposite of humility. It's the belief that I have anything to do with my successes at all in the first place. (Wrong.)

On thinking back to my high school, teenaged, naive self, I remember a ridiculous air of haughtiness and the presence of an outward holier-than-thou syndrome. Over time, I learned to temper the forthrightness, and I feel that I've been moderately successful in developing some tact. Tact is important to me.

Tact is the art of making a point without making an enemy. ~Howard Newton

That aside, as I've grown older, I've also learned that life is one big lesson in humility. I have been "100% sure" about a lot of things, only to eat crow later in life. And not necessarily even a lot later. I've scoffed at a lot of things that now apply to myself - like having a large family, breastfeeding, being a stay-at-home mom, making your own baby food, "wasting" one's college education, using Pilates and Yoga as a legitimate workout, and the list goes on...

I am confident that 2012 will afford me some more opportunities to Eat Crow. Maybe even a big, fat, in-your-face opportunity that's on my heart at this moment. This year, though, I'm going to do it with grace and humility. I will accept that I was wrong, and move on. I will not label myself "hypocrite". I hope others will follow suit. I don't like being called names. Not by myself or anyone else.

In light of the sermon on Wednesday night by our teaching pastor, I will welcome these obstacles as an opportunity for God to move.

All of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because, "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble." ~1 Peter 5:5

And piggybacking on teen-sensation, Justin Bieber's hit movie/song:

I will never say never.

Adventures of a Road-tripping Preggo

2012-01-03T18:36:00.000-05:00

I will admit that journeying 12 hours in each direction up and back down the east coast is less than ideal at any given time. Believe me when I tell you it's worse when you're 31 weeks pregnant. If you care to indulge me, I'll include you in some of the all-too-true experiences I've had as a road-tripping, 3rd-trimester pregnant woman. Most of these things occurred somewhere between miles and miles of pine trees on I-95 between Georgia and Maryland (I don't know why I shared that part, maybe that fact might be important to someone).

With less than an hour to go on the trip, I figured it might help if I took my pants off to buy some time before having to stop to use the restroom. After all, that big thick elastic waistband pressing directly on the bladder doesn't help the situation.

I've found that there's simply no way to get comfy sitting in the passenger seat. It's worse in the driver's seat - exponentially even.

By some strange coincidence, I developed ragin' heartburn complete with a pain that shot through my ribs every time I got behind the wheel. And bless Sam's heart, he didn't even think I was faking it. Even I thought I was faking it (but I really wasn't, I promise).

When I was pregnant with Sarah, I went in the back seat to do some work during the 12 hour drive because it seemed like the perfect way to pass the time and clock some hours. Less than 30 minutes into it, I ended up falling asleep.

Hours before we leave, I have to start rationing drinks even more so than usual - knowing that a single sip of water will result in 3 subsequent bathroom breaks less than 30 minutes into the trip.

I stared longingly at the 24-hour restaurant signs on I-95 because, no surprise, I'm hungry at all hours of the night.

Tasks that used to be simple, like reaching a dropped toy or finding some Tums in the toiletry bag right behind my seat, are suddenly acts of congress thanks to my giant bulging belly.

I realize after I get to our destination that I really could have left all of those dressier maternity pants at home because I couldn't possibly care less if the relatives I see twice annually see me in my red yoga pants that, in my opinion, match every shirt I own.

I cried real tears when Sam packed every cubic inch of our van with Christmas goodies, suitcases, clothes, and every other thing under the sun for the final 2.5 hour leg of our trip home. And I couldn't even explain why.

The moral of this story? Pregnant women are crazy. And crazy uncomfortable.

But you know what? The trip was still worth it.

Highlights from Christmas 2011

2011-12-31T23:11:00.000-05:00

Without question, the most important part of Christmas is the reason we have Christmas at all. It's a celebration of the birth of Jesus. What this celebration affords is nothing short of an annual miracle. It's not Christmas morning that makes Christmas magical. I love Christmas morning, but it's all of the other things the season affords that make it truly special. Time with family. Special events. A spirit of giving. Extra smiles.

The Little Moments

Sarah's blatant refusal to sit on Santa's lap with accompanying frown.

My mother-in-law aptly commented that it looked like she was about to kick him in the shins. Wouldn't surprise me a bit.

As I sat in the breakfast area of my mother-in-law's house, I overheard her say from the kitchen, "The nut cake fell." She says this all the time so I scoffed at her "fallen" cake and assured her it would be fine. Then I looked at it....

That was no exaggeration. We laughed and laughed about this. It was a great way to end a very emotionally draining day.

Sarah happily digging into a present in which paper Christmas napkins had been subbed for tissue paper, pulling out the napkin and enthusiastically proclaiming, "I got a towel!" as if that's the thing she wanted the most in the world. And to think, we could have just gotten her some household paper products for Christmas...

While the boys went outside to shoot their new official Red Ryder carbine action bb gun, I watched Abby play a round of catch with a giant Tinkerbell ball with her 84-year-old great-Grandmom & Aunt Janet. (And why I didn't get a picture of that, I will never know.)

Watching Sarah "wink" at Uncle Jon across the dinner table. We're not exactly sure what she was actually doing, but it was definitely really, really hard blinking.

Experiencing cold weather in Williamsburg, Virginia with the kids. Abby declared, "It feels like winter!" And Ben, with amazement noticed, "It's SO cold, you can see your breath!" (We don't get too much winter cold in central Georgia.)

At the tail end of our whirlwind tour of the east coast, we found ourselves at Grandmom and Grandpop's house nearing midnight a few days after Christmas. After the initial excitement wore off, and the kids finally settled down in their beds, around 3am I heard Sarah spinning in disoriented circles in the kitchen crying desperately, "I need Daddy!" It was sweet. Kind of.

Seeing my three babies playing in Net Net's front yard with grass-stained knees, chalked-up sleeves, and indulging in bowls of ice cream with unlimited refills.

Sleeping in until 9:00am. (woot woot)

The adventures in family picture-taking with two year olds:

(That's Grammie bribing lil' Landon with sweet tea to no avail while the rest of the cousins looked on with curiosity.)

That's Ben being charged, yet again, with subduing the most challenging subject, in this case, Jared. His method of choice? The headlock.

After Grandmom insisted on a photo by the tree with all the grandkids, Sarah laid there like a slug. It was her only defense.

Abby's personal serenade at Busch Gardens by two handsome Festhaus crooners after which she was so shocked/startled/embarrassed that she fell out of her chair...typical.

Watching Abby fall out of the chair (again) at Grandmom's house using a poinsettia to break her fall. It was so comical, I couldn't even be upset. She grabbed the top of a the plant and slid down the thing stripping it of practically every branch. These types of things can only be captured in one's memory.

Witnessing some seriously enthusiastic reindeer feeding. In Sarah's case, if the reindeer wanted to actually eat some of the food, they'd need to come inside and pick it out of her hair.

Disappearing around the pond with the new Gator in near-freezing temperatures, a slight drizzle, and nothing but matching jammies on their bodies.

"So long!!!"

"Hey! Get back here...we haven't opened presents yet!"

While there's plenty of time to reflect on 2011, and I suspect I'll do that another day, if there's one thing I will always treasure about this Christmas season, it's that I valued my time spent with precious family. We never do know when that might be taken away from us. Sam's sweet 27-year-old cousin was taken Home a few days before Christmas, and while I'm sure everyone would rather have Adam here with us now, and even though he's happy and whole in Heaven, if there's one thing his death reminded me of, it's that we are not guaranteed another day. I hope I continue to remember this. And I hope you will too.

Hope you all had a fabulous Christmas and wishing you the most blessed 2012!

How to know you're a mom: Christmas Edition

2011-12-19T23:37:00.001-05:00

You are considering leaving the nativity scene out all year. It would serve as a great reminder, of course, but it's also your two year old's new favorite toy.

The fact that your eight year old son said to you, "I had to borrow your Bible because I can't find mine. I got to Genesis chapter 8." was not prompted or out of compulsion, but simply because he wants to read through the Bible means more than words can express.

Your favorite outfit (which is, coincidentally, one of the only ones that fits well) right now is a lime green t-shirt and red yoga pants. You justify wearing it everywhere by saying it's your Christmas outfit. Red and green, right?

Every time you look at the Christmas tree, you are reminded that the kids decorated it 95% of the way without help. You notice because of the solitary branches containing a dozen unique ornaments clinging on for dear life. And the major victory is that you left them that way. That is part of the fun of decorating a tree at Christmas.

The highlight of Christmas 2011 might indeed be watching your sweater-clad eight year old as he stood up in front of a classroom full of young married families in Sunday School and read the Christmas story to a rug-full of children. He's just a little old man in a bigger-than-eight-year-old body.

During your most recent trip to Callaway Garden's Fantasy in Lights as you sat on the beach and watched the light shows of both the actual Christmas story and 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, your ornery two year old loudly declared, "I don't like baby Jesus. I don't like Santa." So, Daddy asked, "Who do you like?" Without a moment's hesitation, she replied, "I like Big Bird."

You have no interest in correcting the inventive lyrics of your girls as they belt out, at the top of their lungs, without inhibition [non]traditional Christmas tunes:

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle All the Way, How much fun in history to ride on open sleigh, Hey!

Frosty the snowman had a very happy soul and two eyes made out of snow and 4-top button nose! Frosty the snowman had a very happy soul. The children know he came to life one day!

Frosty the Snowman was a very happy snow!

While your two year old "napped", your five year old helped you decorate sugar cookies. Long story short, in the time it took you to answer one phone call your entire supply of sprinkles was depleted.

You attended your kids' Christmas parties wearing flip-flops...because you could. And you were really bummed about that. Christmas just ain't Christmas without...temperatures less than 50. (Shoot, I'd take less than 70.)

This year's Christmas-picture-taking session went better than year's past and provided the most fantastic outtakes shots. Though you dread the act of doing it every single year, you never regret the process when all is said and done.

There's the one where the photographer's helper (Daddy) tries to capture the subjects' attention by chucking pinecones at them:

The one where the photographers helper made "tooting" noises much to the chagrin of the man meditating quietly by the pond, but to the riotous delight of three camera subjects: 9125

The one where they all forgot to drink their V8 (remember those commercials?):

The one where the youngest child is clearly put out about something:

The contender for awkward family photo during which your two year old bounces on your five and eight year old like a bucking bronco:

At least there are always a few that are just awesome. Those can be my Christmas present to you, dear blog followers. And since it's not Christmas yet...you'll just have to wait.

45 and counting...

2011-12-13T22:50:00.000-05:00

So December is no NaBloPoMo for me. It's not that I've been overwhelmed. It's just that I've been enjoying December to the fullest - or at least trying to. Full disclosure requires that I inform you that I've been excessively weepy as I enter the third trimester this pregnancy go-round. Hormones and all of that.

I counteract the hormones by staying comfortable and trying to stay distracted. Comforts involve drinking decaf hot tea with honey, wearing my red maternity yoga pants for days in a row (taking them off only to wash them), and taking rests on the floor because somehow my back feels better down there than even in my big comfy green chair. Distractions involve things like cookie baking, advent activity doing, and remembering, in the back of my mind, that little 101 List.

Back on December 5th, the family and I took a trip halfway across the state of Georgia to Callaway Gardens where we, for the 3rd year in a row, ventured to their display known as the Fantasy of Lights. In year's past, it was freezing. That's all part of the experience. You load up your bundled family in a row of the Jolly Trolley where you drive through a display of animated lights set to music.

Well, gee, when I put it that way it doesn't exactly sound quite so magical. Just take my word for it. It's awesome.

Sam and I must really think so especially based on the fact that for the past two years little Sarah was hysterical unless I nursed her. So that I did. This year, there was no nursing. In fact, this year it was warm, not crowded, and we had three children completely captivated by the attraction. It completely "erased" (if you will) any trauma from past years.

The night wasn't perfect, however. Not only did I forget the camera and the DVD of Christmas movies we had planned to watch in the van, but we forgot these....

Those would be the tickets. We remembered them about an hour into the drive. (Luckily it wasn't a problem. They reprinted them for us.)

After I was bummed about the camera, I realized that I didn't take any pictures in previous years either, short of these last year...

Look at those cheeks and that gaping Samuel mouth. CUTE!

No matter, I guess. I've got pictures right up here (as I tap my overgrown noggin').

The point of this post? To let you know that the list item called, "Make Callaway Gardens an annual Christmas tradition" has been completed.

Grand total: 45 out of 101

Slow and steady wins the race?

Commitment: It's not a 4-letter word.

2011-12-08T08:47:00.003-05:00

There's not a whole lot of sticktoitiveness in my generation. I'm not going to lie. We're fickle.

We don't like the degree we graduated from college with so we bounce from career to career without an ounce of loyalty to the employers who took a risk on hiring us. Turns out, they probably shouldn't have.

We don't feel like doing something we committed to, so we make up a lie, feign illness, simply don't bother to show up. Maybe there's a twinge of guilt, but more likely there's the feeling of "everyone does it" to rebuff that.

We back out of our friendships and even our marriages in pursuit of self. We forget that no one is perfect, yet we demand it from others and expect forgiveness when we ourselves fall short. We leave the escape hatch open at all times.

We make demands, cry out against countless injustices, preach from our pulpits (and blog posts) but we sit on our duff and complain when nothing changes.

We say one thing, and we do another.

We think one thing, and we say another.

Catch the drift?

If only there were some place we could look to for guidance on how to act. Some sort of infallible resource that would teach us right from wrong on these matters.

Oh wait...

It is better to say nothing than to make a promise and not keep it. ~Ecclesiastes 5:5

That verse really stuck out to me when I was reading the Bible through this year. There are a ~~couple~~ ~~few~~ a lot of important lessons that I think have been completely lost on my peers (myself included). Maybe it's just simple courtesy, etiquette, common decency, but we're lacking it. I don't claim to be perfect. I don't claim to be high and mighty. I know that I am dead-wrong, off-base, and completely fallible on a daily basis. The good news it that I don't have to count on myself to get it right. I just have to believe that Jesus already did it. It's done. He took care of it. For all of us, forever. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't strive to do the right thing. Even if it's as simple as following through on a commitment. If people can't trust our word, what can they trust?

In the matter of making commitments, the Bible is clear. If you can't or don't intend to follow through, don't even say it out loud. Don't make a promise you can't keep. It's that simple.

Simply let your 'Yes' be 'Yes,' and your 'No,' 'No'; anything beyond this comes from the evil one. ~ Matthew 5:37

This passage is referenced a lot in Christian parenting how-to books. But I think it's applicable on the point of commitments as well, if only for the fact that in a Suess-like way, it simply says- say what you mean and mean what you say - concisely.

That's easy enough, right?

At least, it sure should be. I guess I'll make it start with me.

Integrity.

Here we come an'adventing...

2011-12-04T23:39:00.001-05:00

70. ~~Make an advent calendar at Christmas. (3/3)~~

It is finished.

I feel a bit like I cheated this year, but that's all my mother-in-law's fault. She gave me a beautiful wooden advent calendar last year for Christmas. Honestly, I couldn't wait to use it. Besides, my homemade goodies were a labor of love - and more of labor than of love. After all, I consider myself to be less than craftsy.

So technically Advent begins on the fourth Sunday before Christmas. But, in our house, and for the past three Christmases, we have done the December 1st-25th thing.

The first year I made a paper house with windows and doors cut out from magazines.

The second year I crafted tiny envelopes and hung them from a string.

This year, I used the one that was given to me, but it still involved a little work...

If you didn't read the Mom Things in my last post, you might have missed that Sarah ripped off one of the doorknobs before I even stuffed the activities inside. It got sucked up into the vacuum so I had to dig through a mess of undesirable, unmentionable things that collectively resembled owl pellets. Not pretty. But I found it! So it was worth it...I guess...

Then came the activity-stuffing. To name a few:

~Donate a gift from the Samaritan's Purse Christmas catalog (They chose to provide meals for a week, a blanket, and money towards helping to send a missionary doctor where needed. It was so awesome - especially hearing them wish we could do so much more.)
~Read Luke 2 - The Birth of Jesus
~Buy gifts at the school Holiday Store
~Make cinnamon ornaments

That was today's -

It's a somewhat retro craft. After all, I'm no pinterest guru. In fact, I don't really even know how to navigate the beast. But it's basically equal parts cinnamon & applesauce plus a little bit of glue...to help them dry faster. They smell amazing.

So much so, I guess, that two little girls found them irresistible. They just had to taste them. Check out the perfect bite mark I discovered on this Christmas tree.

Good thing Elmer's is non-toxic.

Tomorrow's activity promises to help us complete another list item.

But I'll talk about that after it happens. In the meantime, #70, you have been checked!

Random Mom Things - Aren't They All?

2011-11-30T17:35:00.000-05:00

For some reason your five year old randomly telling your eight year old, "Ben, you are up for the challenge!" is enough to send him into a fit of rage (because "That doesn't make any sense!!!"). Of course, this is now one of her favorite things to say to him...repeatedly.

Halfway through dinner your youngest daughter stands up and sings a top-of-the-lungs medley of "Jesus Loves Me", "Mary Had a Little Lamb", and other un-discernible lyrics all mixed together. It was enough to entice big sister to join in the singing festivities. Who would have guessed that steak sub night would turn into "Showtime at the Kitchen Table"?

You now know that shopping online for pre-Black Friday deals for your son whilst baking is not the best idea. After an emergency trip to Publix for more eggs, your pumpkin roll is 100% better, or at least, less burnt this go round.

The likelihood of a poop catastrophe is inversely proportional to how late you are running to get somewhere.

Your two year old calls it "Mitch". Your five year old calls it "The Griddle". You and the rest of the world know it as "The Grinch"...and even though it's only November 30th, you've watched it at least two dozen times already. During one viewing, your five year old quipped, "I don't think he likes Halloween or Thanksgiving either."

That loud boom you heard in the foyer was your two year old's forehead hitting the corner of a column. If they ever remake Scarface, you're totally going to make her audition for the role.

Your "favorite" part is the perfect outline of a bandaid rash that showed up overnight while you were trying to control the bleeding. Apparently she's allergic to those. Like her mother.

Last year for Christmas your mother-in-law gave you a super cool advent calendar. When you unpacked it this year, your two year old ripped two doorknobs off the tiny doors before you even had a chance to fill it with activities. Maybe she thinks they're actual doorknobs and need to be twisted.

To make the story even better, she left one of these tiny doorknobs on your floor, which you immediately vacuumed up without knowing. This provided you with 30 minutes of fun digging through vaccum cleaner waste products which all-too-closely resembled those owl pellets you dissected in middle school.

Good news though - you found it. Plus a Box Top for the school collection which starts tomorrow. Hello 10cents for the elementary school. (I bet they'll really appreciate that one. At least you got all of the hair off of it...)

This concludes 30 days of National Blog Posting Month. I'm guessing my posts will be fewer and farther between in the month of December (you're welcome). But then again, maybe not. I'm becoming spontaneous in my old age.

A Humble Brag (if there is such a thing)

2011-11-29T23:54:00.001-05:00

It's no secret Sam and I are frugal. I mentioned it briefly on my Black Friday post, but I am beyond excited about our most recent savings on gas.

I realize prices here in central Georgia are pretty good compared to lots of places around the country, but I have to say, I haven't paid this price since the early 2000's. It's been nearly a decade.

We got this discounted price thanks to ciphering and calculating, and an ingenious plan of Sam's. I made the shopping lists for Black Friday complete with price lists. Just before we left, Sam said, "Let's stop at Kroger and buy gift cards."

That was the ingenious part. We prepaid for our shopping spree with giftcards purchased at Kroger for 4x the fuel points, a promo that they started just before Black Friday. The normal deal is that for each dollar spent in Kroger, you get 1 point towards discounted gas. When you accumulate 100 points, you get 10 cents off per gallon. Right now, for every $1 spent on giftcards, you get four points towards discounted fuel. That means a $25 giftcard earns you 10cents off per gallon. Every $250 in giftcards earns $1 off per gallon (this is the max discount). We managed to get an additional 10cents on top of the $1 because of another promotion for having and using a Kroger credit card to pay for gas.

We took both vehicles and two gas cans, and walked away with every drop of the 35 gallon maximum they would allow us for the amazing price of $1.98/gallon. We saved $38.50 in gas on that $250 giftcard purchase, which works out to an additional 15% savings on top of our mad Black Friday shopping skills.

I'm not sure if you can tell how exciting this was for me. Apparently, saving money is my drug.

I think you should try it.

Writer's Block & Time Management

2011-11-28T21:07:00.000-05:00

Somewhere between writer's block and poor time management, I've found myself in crunch time for my annual Christmas newsletter. For some reason, it's very important to me to include some sort of creative, original newsletter in our Christmas cards. A regular, boring letter simply will not do. The problem is by the ninth one, I'm kind of running out of creative, original ideas. I had a couple of fleeting thoughts that didn't pass the brainstorming test earlier today. And I'm pretty sure this is the latest I've ever thought about it. If only I were back at work so I'd have time to do stuff like this (wink, wink).

Anyway, while I sat at the computer googling "creative Christmas newsletters", I looked up to see this...

I think we have our Christmas picture at least.

They're watching The Grinch (the original cartoon). Sarah particularly loves Max (of course, she's a puppy fanatic). The sound of half of the ornaments falling off of the very tips of each of the tree branches hung with "care" by my girls is drowned out by Sam's traditional performance of "Welcome Christmas" complete with "Fahoo fores dahoo dores" and what nots. That is undoubtedly one of my favorite parts of this season. (I'm pretty simple.)

And with that little bloggy break, I'm going back to brainstorming...

"Welcome Christmas!"

Scatterbrained Sunday

2011-11-27T18:08:00.000-05:00

I don't even know if that counts as alliteration because the beginning sounds are different, but let's just go with it anyway. I'm on day 27 of 30, and I'm just doing what I can to finish! (That's quitter-talk, isn't it?)

We had a great Black Friday experience, a less than great Saturday experience thanks to, most likely, messed up sleeping & eating habits and a combination of hormonal reactions on my part. That's life. Sunday has been a mixture of all of those things wrapped up together. After church and lunch, we've spent the better part of the day decorating for Christmas. Without sounding too grumpy, it's just kind of hard to get in the mood when it's in the 70's and we're wearing shorts and t-shirts. On the other hand, it was a beautiful day!

A focal passage from our Sunday School lesson this morning has been playing over and over in my head throughout the day:

I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. ~Philippians 4:11-13

I'm going tell you, folks, I'm in a season of plenty. And I can tell you this, too, contentment is not always easy!

Here comes the scatterbrained part:

For those of you long-distance friends who've been asking - here's a belly picture at 25.5 weeks. Maybe those cashiers were justified in their horror. Either way, I show you this not because I want to show off my hot pregnancy bod (HAHAHAH!) or because I want you to notice that my belly looks like it is giving birth to my belly button or because I am succumbing to peer pressure (okay, it's that one slightly), it's because at this point with Sarah and the others I'd taken lots of belly shots for posterity. This time, notta one. Poor 4th child!

And to the random man in the hallways at church this morning who told me I looked great and I was beautiful - thank you. I ordinarily don't take compliments well, but today I needed one.

The rest of the night we'll be decorating this tree - which has remained lit, but naked all day waiting for little girls to wake up from their naps and kids to return home from choir.

Plus there's this stuff just begging to be littered throughout the house with Christmas cheer...

Don't you just LOVE this season!!!?? It's truly the most wonderful time of the year!

(And just for a giggle, I got a huge chuckle as I hummed this tune to myself over the Thanksgiving break. I finally understand the part of the song where it says, "And Mom and Dad can hardly wait for school to start again!" wink, wink)

Happy Sunday, all!

Tales from Black Friday

2011-11-26T22:55:00.001-05:00

I'm not going to lie. I'm one of those Black Friday shoppers, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Although, I have certain restrictions. I won't step foot inside of Walmart. I will not "camp out" in front of a store for a certain item, of which they probably only have 2 or 3. And I don't get emotionally involved in my purchases...if it's out when I get there, well, "bummer", and life goes on.

I do it because I love to save money. I do it because I'm not reliant on having to do it. I do it, now, because it's a tradition that Sam and I have started and kept going for years, even if last year we weren't able to go together - we still went, separately. It's fun. And I don't particularly like crowds. I just really enjoy checking things off my list at maximum savings.

This year, we started our escapades at Toys-R-Us. I continue to be impressed with how they run their operation. You have to wait in line outside because they only allow 100 shoppers in the store at once. Then, once they've checked a good many of those folks out, they let more in. You spend all of your waiting time in the cool, refreshing outdoor air watching the folks who just made purchases try to fit gigantic Power Wheels boxes into the trunk of their Honda Accord (they don't fit). I applaud this method.

Because after Toys-R-Us (where we got everything on our list, including one pink Leapster for Abby at $25 that I was positive would be sold out by the time we got there), we crossed the parking lot to get to Kohls. I know all of these store are ginormous and can hold every single person waiting in line to get in without violating fire codes, but they really don't need to do it that way. The throttle-back method would work well here as well. You can walk straight in, grab your items, and then spend your time waiting in line to check out. Apparently, Kohls felt that they needed to crank the heat to 100 as well, so it makes waiting in the sweltering heat (and shopping for sweaters) completely intolerable. Our major score here was a bedding set (paid $39.99, priced at $119.99 - plus an additional 15% off) for the top bunk to match the one I bought last year for the will-be bottom bunk.

Target has the same, let-'em-in-and-let-'em-wait-in-line philosophy. At least it wasn't 1000 degrees in there. They do not seem to have a large amount of "doorbusters" available. So if you don't go there first, you likely won't get the $7 jammie sets (for example), but Target is Target. It beats Walmart on its worst day. (Am I right?)

After these stores we went home - to grab a nap for an hour or so before we got up and went to Staples, where we'd have the most success of our shopping adventures. The major scores there were a color laser printer (50% off) and a shredder ($19.99 down from $99.99). Both of these items (a printer and a shredder) were things that we've lived without for the past several months with anticipation of scoring one for cheap on Black Friday. I'm glad we waited!

The rest of our day's escapades took us to Kmart, Sears, Lowes, Dollar General, Sam's Club, and Bass Pro Shops. And Chili's for lunch (yum). We arrived home around 1:45pm, exhausted but happy.

A couple of other random tidbits: Having made lists of items-to-shop-for before we left, we stopped at Kroger to purchase giftcards for each of the stores we shopped at before we went, allowing us to earn 4x the gas points for discounts on future gas purchases.

The only thing we paid full price for the whole day was a mattress that we bought for the top bunk at Sam's Club. It was half the price of any other mattress we could find elsewhere, so I still consider that to be a bargain.

People are crazy on Black Friday. For instance, a random man came up and offered Sam and me $20 when we were at the front of the line to get into Toys-R-Us to go in and buy him some sort of Thomas the Train toy (that wasn't even on sale) so that he wouldn't have to wait in the line. We passed on the opportunity.

During a drop-off at home before we went to lunch, we set up the printer so we could print a coupon for Chili's. That is why I have completely and totally missed having a printer for months! Printable coupons are my friend.

I'm thrilled to report that we could have Christmas tomorrow if we were so inclined and I think that we'd have more than enough for everyone. In a few words, shopping is just about complete! I'm still working on the tabulations for percentages and total amount of money saved. I will be sure to post when I finalize. I don't know how you're going to sleep until I do from the sheer excitement!

Black Friday 2011 = Success for Jennie & Sam

Tradition, tradition!

2011-11-25T20:17:00.001-05:00

There are lots of "turkey day" traditions. You know, the usual - overeating the delicious menu items from turkey & dressing to veggies and pumpkin-themed desserts, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, football, taking the time to voice our blessings out loud to the Giver of all blessings.

In our family, Thanksgiving typically involves a Wednesday night meal with one side of the family at my in-law's house, only to wake up on Thursday morning and go do the very same with the other side of the family at Sam's grandparents' house. Some things never change. Some things really shouldn't. It's one of those treasures that makes it my home away from home.

What does change each year is how the great-grandkids choose to spend their time after the meal. One thing is for sure, whether it's...

...pausing on the swing for a group photo...

...playing in the leaves...

...riding around like maniacs on toys brought over from Grammie's house...

...loving on (or headlocking) some puppies...

...climbing trees...

...or even climbing trees with one hand and still having your finger in your belly button with the other...

...we have much to be thankful for.

An Attitude of Gratitude

2011-11-24T19:18:00.000-05:00

With what may be an entire turkey in my belly and the tryptophan kicking in quickly, I'm taking time this Thanksgiving to reflect on the daily blessings I have chosen to note this month (thus far). It's not too late to start your own month of "Thanksliving" or "Attitude of Gratitude". In the meantime, here are a few of the many blessings I've treasured in my life this November 2011:

1: Today, I am thankful for a completely unexpected season of life that began almost exactly one year ago. I could never have imagined the lessons I would learn about myself, my family, and my faith as a result of losing my job and being at home.

2: Today, I'm thankful for the uninhibited spirits of my two little girls. They are the physical embodiment of "sing like no one is listening and dance like nobody is watching". I could learn a lot from those little whimsical babies.

3: I am thankful for Thursday mornings...Bible study, Beth Moore, friends, food, and fellowship. Perfect combination! Fills my cup weekly.

4: Today I am thankful for a family of in-laws that embraced me from the beginning and love me like I was born one of their own.

5: Today I'm thankful for a husband who is industrious, resourceful, and highly motivated. He inspires me to do more...than sit on the couch, eat snacks, and absorb mindless television.

6: I'm thankful today for the people in my life who are not just like me because they challenge me to think about what I believe and why. Sometimes it's exhausting, but it's always worth it in the end.

7: Today I'm thankful for a sense of humor and a husband with whom I can laugh and laugh about ridiculous things. I think this is one of God's gifts to us to get us through the tenser times in life.

8: I'm thankful today for the privilege of living in a country where my opinion counts. Getting to the polls is a "minor inconvenience" that we Americans take for granted, and one for which so many of our world brothers and sisters have given their lives to procure. (In a nutshell, go vote.)

9: I'm thankful, today, for Sarah's joie de vivre. Even as she daringly jumps from the coffee table to the couch without inhibition, she makes me smile. At least several times daily.

10: I'm thankful today for the way God speaks to me through the leadership at our church, through my friends and teachers at Bible study, and through the little teaching moments I have with my children almost daily. It's amazing how specifically He answers my heart through people who have no idea I even *have* the questions.

11: Today I'm thankful for a weekend escape to a place that always feels like home away from home. We're at Grammie's house! Always thankful, as well, for the servicemen & women who have devoted their lives past, present, and future to protecting our freedoms in this great country.

12: Thankful for a long, late afternoon nap with my youngest baby at Grammie's house while everyone else played outside, went hunting, and watched football. Simple pleasures, indeed.

13: Today, I'm thankful for a husband whose best traits complement my worst. We make a pretty good team.

14: I'm thankful for three well-rested, good-spirited children this morning, as I listen to them spontaneously playing ring-around-the-rosey in the kitchen. I think Ben & Abby enjoy hearing Sarah's giggles as much as I do.

15: I'm thankful, today, for the teachers in my childrens' lives whom they love so much that they consider them extended family. From Mr. Barronton, Mrs. Earhart, and Mrs. Scarbrough at LJP to Mrs. Ruth, Mr. Scott, and Miss Emily at CBC (among SO many others). It's truly a blessing to have adults in my kids' lives who love them like Sam and I do.

16: Today I'm thankful that God is revealing my talents to me, whether they are what I expected them to be or not.

17: So thankful for the gift of laughter. I might be simple-minded and too-easily-amused, but I feel so much better after a deep-down belly-laugh. I'm pretty sure this is why God gave us Sarah.

18: Today I'm thankful for the luxury of being able to rest when I am weary. I'm not one to make a habit out of it, but I really think a few clutch naps have helped me both mentally and physically feel better, and it's a privilege I've never really had before.

19: I think the spirit of gratitude must be contagious - Sarah just thanked me for vacuuming the living room. (Either that or even the two year old was grossed out and ready for it to be cleaned up...)Today, I'm thankful for the excitement of the upcoming week - quality time with the three kids and the rest of the family, at least 3 turkey dinners, the Harvest at CBC, and *hopefully* some Black Friday shopping!

20: Today, I'm thankful for cooperative kids and a clean, purged playroom.

21: I'm thankful for the sleepy moments right after my babies wake up when they're still enough to steal a few cuddles.

22: Today, I'm thankful for the glorious scent of roasted turkey wafting through my home, and for God's provision of food on a daily basis - including, most importantly, the Bread of Life.

23: I'm thankful today for the public library. And kids who love to read.

24: Pumpkin Roll - Take 2. In case anyone is wondering, haste (or, in this case, multitasking) makes waste.On a related note, I'm thankful, today, for second chances, do-overs, and mulligans.

25: "We would worry less if we praised more. Thanksgiving is the enemy of discontent and dissatisfaction."[Harry A. Ironside]

Today, I'm thankful for the Giver of all things - the blessings, the lessons learned through difficult times, and everything in between.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! ♥

And now Abby loves coffee too...

2011-11-23T22:41:00.000-05:00

Sarah started her coffee obsession sometime before age two. It seems now, Abby has acquired a taste for the good stuff as well. She helps me make it. She waits anxiously for the beep that indicates it's ready. And she puts her little mug right next to my regular-sized one and fills them up for us.

She came and got me this morning and said, "I got your coffee ready...but I didn't put any salt or sour cream in it." I was grateful for that.

Yesterday I told her she needed to go jump in the shower and get rinsed off. She took her mini mug of coffee into the shower with her. Apparently, she thinks that's what you're supposed to do with your coffee. I never even knew she saw me do that.

She declared to me when she emerged from the shower, "Coffee is helfy (healthy)." I quickly informed her to the contrary and she was slightly disappointed. Maybe that'll motivate her to kick the habit before it turns into one.

And I'm suddenly realizing that while I'm glad I'm a role model of hers, maybe I should be doing things worthy of copying. Like drinking maybe drinking more milk and water instead.

Tired Tuesday

2011-11-22T22:30:00.000-05:00

You know it's been a long day or three when you delegate bedtime storytime to Harry Potter's little blond sister.

I've made tomorrow's list, which includes brainstorming Christmas card newsletter ideas, making cute Pilgrim Hat desserts, and packing the family for Thanksgiving at Grammie's house - which is definitely over the river and through the woods.

That said, this tired Tuesday farer is going "night night".

Turkey Monday

2011-11-21T23:38:00.001-05:00

I don't know why I enjoy hosting events at my house. I'm not particularly social. I'm not a great cook, but I do have my specialties. For some reason, I like cooking for a crowd way more than I like cooking for my family of five. Figure that one out.

But since I now boast membership in a wonderful, old-as-dirt family with traditions that go just as far back, I wholeheartedly believe I will never host Thanksgiving at my home. I'm coming to grips with that. And I know that probably sounds a little strange for a not-particularly-social, non-cook. The traditions are great, don't get me wrong.

The thing is, thanks to my husband volunteering me to cook turkey for his office Thanksgiving lunch several years back, turkey is now what I would consider to be one of my specialties.

That's random. But that's me.

I remember when he came home that first year, and said he'd organized a Thanksgiving lunch at the office...would I mind cooking the turkey? I almost choked. For a non-cook, turkey is no small task. So I did what any engineer would do - I started my research. I finally settled on a combination of Emeril and Alton Brown's recipes for Roast Turkey brine, consulted the Butterball website for cooking time, invested in a meat thermometer, and the tradition began.

A couple of years ago, after reorganizing their office structure, Sam and his coworkers went out for Thanksgiving lunch. I took it as a personal insult. The next year, they started the tradition back up.

This year, it was the first time I cooked with the three kids at home with me. It was the first time I smelled the turkey for the entire time it roasted instead of rushing home from work to make sure it wasn't over-done. (The smell all day, by the way, was totally torturous.) I have to say, after so many years of doing it, I've got Turkey Day running like a well-oiled machine. Things were going great right down to delivery time, when I realized I still had three kids to get dressed and ready to go. Darn them. That does add "one or two minutes" to the routine.

We got there in time, but with all of the last-minute rushing I didn't get a picture of the finished product. Instead, I got this shot of a practically raw turkey stuffed with butter.

And this really random shot of carrots, onions, and celery for the stuffing...because I thought it was pretty.

While we waited on the dirty dishes from lunch, the kids and I went to the lake down the street and found some Jurassic-sized leaves,

looked out over the water,

and posed for a cheesin'-on-the-bridge photo.

And even if little Sarah absolutely despises holding my hand to get from point A to point B, she'll apparently hold Ben and Abby's hands at any given moment. I guess I have a new strategy to get from point A to point B, huh?

And that's that. The kitchen is clean, the roasting pan is soaking, the kids are tuckered out, and SO AM I. Tomorrow, I move on to pumpkin rolls, gooey cake, a library run, and some 75% off long-sleeved tees at Old Navy. And maybe, just maybe, I'll make the kids do a fun Thanksgiving craft against their will. Bwahahaha.

A Bountiful Harvest

2011-11-20T23:01:00.001-05:00

The spirit of thankfulness and giving is all kinds of rampant this season. In a good way. No. In a great way.

Back in August, our church voted very heavily in favor of proceeding with plans to fund and construct a Family Life Center. Not a "new" one, just one. Period. Since opening the doors to our church in 2005, the people have come. Very Field of Dreams like...in an awesome-for-God's-kingdom way. I wholeheartedly believe God led our church to relocate onto this very piece of 155-acre property in the middle of "nowhere", because He knew that in just a few short years, it would be at the center of one of the fastest growing tracts of land in Georgia. These things don't just happen. (Unless prayer is involved, and there is a master plan in effect.)

This particular tract of land surrounding our church is comprised mostly of a middle-class, young married couples with young families demographic. This tract of land is our mission field. Our church is very serious and committed to reaching lost souls, and what better place to start than on the boundaries of our property?

With that in mind, this Family Life Center will provide classroom space, a gymnasium for expansion of our Upward sports program and the provisions for new recreational ministry opportunities, and a multi-purpose room that will allow for receptions (wedding or otherwise) and youth worship services.

Just a word on the youth (or "students" as our church refers to them) - they rock. Completely. I can't tell you how inspiring and humbling it is to see so many middle and high school students devoting themselves so wholeheartedly to their faith through support from our church members and staff and through such strong relationships with their faith family of peers.

With all that being said, buildings aren't cheap. So a capital funds committee was formed, and plans began brewing. The first step was a Harvest offering that would kick-start the spring fund-raising campaign. It took place today, November 20th, a day when each church member and attender was asked to bring forth an offering above and beyond their regular tithe for the purpose of showing our unity and vision for the future of the church.

We had a one-day goal of $100,000 and a through-the-end-of-the-year goal of $250,000. The church has come close to raising $100,000 in a single day before, but we were hoping to make it happen this time.

As the chairman of the capital funds committee got up to speak at the church-wide Thanksgiving dinner (which was so awesome, by the way), he talked about the amount of money that our kids raised. Each child was given a "piggy-bank" to collect their change over the past month or so.

This morning during each service, the preschool and children's Sunday School classes paraded in to lay their buckets at the front of the church. These kids and their pennies brought forth $1098. He then said, "We didn't meet the goal of $100,000....in fact, we missed it by a pretty large margin." There was a pause. And he finished with the news --- the offerings totaled $260,000.

You know what that is?

That's God.

On the committee, there was a lot of discussion about how to set the goals. Should it be low, so we can meet it and feel encouraged? Should it be high, so we can see God's undeniable glory when the goal is surpassed?

The decision was to do one of each, hence the two goals. Turns out, God took care of it...either way.

You see, what we think seems impossible for us, isn't impossible for God. I think He laughs at the mention of the word "impossible". And I think he treasures the faith of prayerful people who believe that He can do things that are seemingly impossible.

Throughout the campaign, Ephesians 3:20-21 has been a central theme -

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

He did. He did immeasurably more than we could ask or imagine. For that I am most thankful. God is awesome.

I'm thankful for a showing of unity in our church today. I'm thankful for the children who were so willing and giving. I'm thankful for each member of the capital funds campaign. I'm thankful for our church staff, for the men and women who served dinner tonight with such cheerful spirits, for good news, and for The Good News.

I feel like meeting the rest-of-the-year goal in a single day is as good as a divine endorsement.

My prayers tonight have changed - from "Lord, please let us come together to meet this goal" to "Thank you, Lord, for showing us what You can do through us. Help us to be good stewards of the provisions you have given to our church. Please, help us remain united in our vision - to be the Harvest workers."

Buildings are just buildings - it's what happens inside, around, near, and because of these buildings that matters. The fact that lives will be forever changed. That is why we're building a Family Life Center. For God's glory.

And all God's people said...

Amen.

It doesn't take much...

2011-11-19T23:25:00.000-05:00

I know I'm mostly a simple person, but today was a day full of simple smiles that completely filled my smile tank. We're in the middle of a pretty busy couple of days, and even so, there was time to enjoy some of the most regular, run-of-the-mill treasures...

Not the least of which was a popsicle and some swing time between the girls:

It was the best day I've had with Abby in a while. She's always precious to me, but today, she was particularly sweet and helpful - doing all kinds of chores, including cleaning her room without me standing over her micro-managing.

I went back there to check on her progress, and found the place pretty well cleaned up - especially considering what it looked like to start with. Among the smiles I found in there -

A made-up bed, with an extra fleece blanket that came from who-knows-where

Of all the dress up clothes lying around the room, she found a hanger for her brand-new pillowcase/Native American/handmade dress...we can't have that getting wrinkled

And without me telling her to, she picked everything up off of the floor, including her naked Barbies, dirty pajama pants, and shoes. Even if that's not exactly where things go, it's progress. And I took it.

Something else I learned today...a roll of pennies is way better to a five year old than a dollar bill. Any day of the week. (At least it is to my five year old.)

That's it, a couple of simple pleasures, lots of smiles, and a complete day.

Flashback Friday: The difference a year can make

2011-11-18T23:49:00.000-05:00

My biggest fear when I lost my job was that unemployment would turn me lazy. A year later, that's still my fear. Especially, as I was looking over my photos from last November and December and I cannot believe all the things I/we did. Last year, I was in stay-busy-for-survival mode. It was how I distracted myself from losing my job. A daily, overloaded to-do list was how I tallied my worth...even when I only completed 25% of the list. A year ago, I had two little girls at home with me, running circles around me while I organized junk drawer after junk drawer, closet after closet, pantry after pantry. A year later, there's just one little girl, the drawers are back to being junky, the closets messy, and the pantries not so organized. There's a voice in the back of my mind going, "Yup, you've turned lazy."

Well, a year ago, I wasn't growing a human. I should cut myself some slack based on this, but I keep thinking, "With all three of my other pregnancies, I was either in school, working, or both, and I didn't have the choice to be lazy." Maybe lazy isn't the right word - maybe it's just succumbing to nature. It's giving in to the naps when I have a chance. It's getting out of the house for a change of scenery instead of pouring myself into some sort of chore. It's sitting on the couch with a hot tea and Sarah, watching and singing along with Sesame Street or Bubble Guppies, just because I can.

Well I've done the "succumbing" thing for long enough. While I still have a few weeks left in my second trimester, I'm going to kick it up a notch. I'm going to take on some projects, have some holiday fun, make some crafts, bake a lot of goodies, and maybe just maybe I'll even do a little exercising. I have a lot to live up to from last year:

I'm totally getting the list paper out. But this year, it's not to distract me from depression or so I can feel worthwhile. This year, it's because I want to. Bring it, holiday season. This year, I'm going to enjoy you to the fullest!

Thankful Thursday Thirteen

2011-11-17T23:25:00.001-05:00

I was just in bed, almost asleep, praying and thanking God for my blessings when I realized that I hadn't posted today. This NaBloPoMo thing is cramping my sleeping style. But I figured it would be easy enough to do a Thursday 13 - Thankful Edition, since I pretty much already was doing that mentally.

Plus, I'm hardcore. (Not really.)

This is the no-frills, words-only post o' thanks.

Things Jennie is Thankful for this Thursday:

1. Sweet Emily, the nursery worker at church, who (whether lying through her teeth or not) told me that she didn't even realize I was pregnant because I didn't look like it. Bless her heart. I wanted to hug her. I should have.
2. The scent of banana bread that still lingers in the home even as I type this.
3. Thursday morning Bible study...even if this morning marked the last one until the end of January. It's such a blessing and encouragement.
4. Our neighbor who agreed to sit for the kids on Saturday night on a whopping two days notice.
5. The opportunity to go out and see contorting bodies and death-defying stunts at Cirque Shanghai on Saturday night.
6. The blood, sweat, and tears [figurative, of course] that Ben & Abby poured into the "I'm thankful for you" notes that they made for their teachers tonight.
7. Sarah's delight when she found a lovey for the new baby in the basket of gifts from our baby shower. She so sweetly said, "I play with this, please", I couldn't resist. She's sleeping soundly with the little elephant nestled next to her cheek. (Emily, if you're reading this, I promise to confiscate it back for Shep#4 whenever he/she arrives!)
8. The fact that Abby fell out of a tree today, but lived to tell about it with nothing more than dirt in her hair, scratches on her back and legs, and a bruised self-confidence. It could have been much worse.
9. Ben's self-starting morning, whereby he ate breakfast, got dressed, and packed his lunch without so much as a single direction being given by me.
10. A crabcake dinner a la the freezer...and it was awesome.
11. The three little buckets lined up on our fireplace filled with coins by my generous children who have been so cheerfully contributing to the new Family Life Center at church.
12. An hour-long power nap that recharged my soul.
13. The delay of back/pelvic pain thus far this pregnancy. I commented to Sam earlier this week that I can't believe it hasn't started yet...then quickly proceeded to knock on wood and pray, but I consider the fact that it hasn't started yet to be a huge blessing as it tends to be one of my biggest pregnancy "things" (since I'm spared the morning sickness).

And that's that. Easy peasy. It took 10 minutes to crank those out. I could have done a Thursday Twenty-six, but that doesn't have quick the same ring to it.

Take some time, right now (because I'm bossy and I like telling you what to do), to count a few of your blessings. Doesn't have to be thirteen, but I dare you to count five.

Ready, set, go!

Please share them with me!

Happy Thursday!

Gobble, gobble! Thankful for some mo' Mom Things

2011-11-16T23:31:00.000-05:00

I had whole-hearted intentions of doing a proper "edition" (if you will) of Mom Things tonight. Turns out, I'm tired, and four days behind on my Bible study homework, and I still haven't made that banana bread that I swore I was going to make for a bereaved friend in my small group. So what you're going to get, is an abbreviated version. My blog, I make the rules. Which is so dumb because who needs rules on a blog anyway? Only Type-A's create rules for themselves.

So - some How to Know You're a Mom stuff:

You watch your two year old wedge herself between the safety fencing and the giant tube slide in the Chick-Fil-A playground, and you only rescue her when she starts to panic. Amid riotous laughter between you & your husband and your daughter crying out, "I stuck!!!!", you make quite a spectacle of yourselves as you try to un-wedge her from the tight spot. It's uncannily reminiscent of Winnie-the-Pooh stuck in the hole into Rabbit's home. Eventually, you manage to pull her out - for her to run off with a giggle and, you swear, a fist-pump of victory. (If only you'd had the camera....)

As you emerged victorious from the play area, other moms in the restaurant reacted to the riotous laughter you enjoyed at your daughter's expense with mixed reviews. You got a few "Love the sense of humor!" votes and a few "I can't believe you just laughed at your helpless, stuck child" looks. Quite seriously, I'm not sure what kind of mom makes it without a sense of humor.

You watch with a hint of amusement as your wily five year old girl attempts to teach a neighborhood boy how to climb the piddly tree in your front yard. When asked repeatedly "How do you do that?" by the boy, and after showing him exactly how about a half a dozen times, she finally replied with a sigh, "I'm just good at it."

You can't get into or out of your kids' elementary school without your two-year-old having to love on the giant lion in the lobby. Seriously, look at her go. Eyes closed and finger in her belly-button. That is pure bliss.

Your kids have taken up yard work as a hobby without any prompting whatsoever. They even work great as a team...except when there are two girls and only one mini-wheelbarrow.

You thought putting your tow-headed five year old in a braid might bring out her inner Pocahontas, but there's really nothing you can do to make this child even remotely pass for a Native American. Not even the headdress and animal-skin dress help.

Gobble, gobble! (And I'll see you tomorrow.)

My Two Year Old Does Chores

2011-11-15T23:01:00.000-05:00

And she likes it...

(Sometimes it's just too grueling so she needs to take a break to stick her finger in her belly button.)

Sometimes, I feel like I'm exploiting her...but really, she likes putting lotion on my aching feet. I suspect her thought process is something like this, "Unrestricted use of the lotion pump? Yes, please."

In light of another awesome column by John Rosemond today (which I think all parents of my generation should read), I stopped to think about his suggestions at the end. Since becoming a "stay-at-home-mom", I've learned to delegate responsibilities to my children a lot better. It seems ironic to me that now that I have "all of this extra time at home" it's even harder to keep up with everything. Giving kids chores helps teach them responsibility, gives them valuable skills, and helps them recognize and appreciate their role in the family. We all have a job here. Not just Dad who's physically at work. Not just Mom who's eternally in the laundry room and/or dishwasher. The kids ate off of those dishes and dirtied those clothes, right?

Since giving the kids more responsibilities, I've watched them transition from doing things begrudgingly to doing them voluntarily. I looked outside tonight, and Ben and Abby were steadily working away in the yard with a rake and a garbage bag. There were a couple of wheelbarrows involved too. And they were doing it...just because they wanted to.

I love days like these. And I love these children. I hope they know that.

Redeeming Love

2011-11-14T22:37:00.000-05:00

I don't read romance novels. I just...don't. Not my thing.

For the past few years, I've been hearing a lot of buzz about a certain book - Redeeming Love.

Having never read a romance novel before, I imagine this sets the bar pretty high. To sum up, a righteous man falls in love with a "soiled dove" of a prostitute whose heart is hardened completely towards men. After rescuing her from the bondage and physical abuse of her brothel, he marries her and takes her home as his wife. She doubts his love for her, feels unworthy of love, and rejects his love by repeatedly abandoning him whether to return to her old life or seemingly selflessly leave him alone and free to find a more suitable, worthy partner.

It's pretty intense.

The intensity is only magnified by the fact that while it's billed as a historical romance novel, the entire book is a direct allegory for the book of Hosea in the Bible. The book of Hosea, a story about a prophet and his prostitute bride, is an allegory for the love between Jesus Christ and his bridegroom, the church.

Oh boy - a double allegory - for this left-brained gal. And I still ~~liked~~ loved it? Now that's saying something.

Long story short, I started this 500-ish page novel on Saturday night around 10pm. I finished it today, Monday, a little after lunchtime. Almost every page of my borrowed book is tear-stained from the beauty of undeserved, freely flowing love embodied in Michael Hosea, a simple farmer who loves his wife, despite her horrid past and in spite of herself.

I know I'm pregnant, and I'm turning into my mother with a chronic case of tears, but I defy anyone to read this book and not get caught up in it. I double dog dare you.

You'll finish it with more than the warm fuzzies. You'll finish it feeling redeemed, no matter what your past contains.

Thank you, Jesus.

Thanks-Giving

2011-11-13T22:42:00.000-05:00

At Thanksgiving we tend to reflect on and give thanks for the things which we've been given. These blessings run from large and obvious to small and seemingly meaningless to a casual observer. No matter the significance of a blessing in one's life, the fact remains, whether you believe so or not, that gift was given by God.

While I think it's important to give thanks, essential even, I think that it's just as important to give. Period. The holiday season brings out a charitable side from even the coldest of hearts. There are myriad opportunities to drop a dollar into a jar or pack a shoebox or donate new toys or load up bags of canned goods for a food pantry. You get the idea. Opportunity abounds.

I challenge you, "my readers", to find something this next year, not just this Christmas season, into which you can pour your time, money, and resources. Make a difference. Don't just give thanks for the blessings you have been given, but take time to be a blessing to someone else and thank God for the opportunity and fortune he has afforded you that you might pay it forward.

I'm not going to touch on the political implications of the following picture, but I saw it and it resonated with me so strongly, I wanted to share it here. It was a share of a share on Facebook, and I can't appropriately credit the source, but here it is nonetheless:

We have a lot in common in this great, divided nation of ours. We are rich.

Let's do our job and share it. Better yet, let's find a way to invest our wealth in the type of charity that will pay eternal dividends.

Believe me, the opportunities are abounding.

Be Fruitful & Multiply

2011-11-12T23:37:00.001-05:00

If there's one thing I know about Genesis 1:28 - it's that our Sunday School class is obedient.

I'm sure it's the season of Young Married life that we're all in, but man, there are a lot of pregnant ladies in that class at any given time.

Today's post will be quick because:

1. We just got home from a weekend at Grammie's house.
2. I only have 27 minutes left to post on Saturday.
3. I'm looking forward to actually getting to church in the morning which means I need to go to sleep relatively soon.

Today, I will simply say that I am thankful for a lot of things, most of which can be summed up by this picture:

I'm thankful for great friends, good food, big bellies, generosity, the gift of carrying life, the Giver of life, and equally as much, opportunities to just laugh.

Thanks, Melissa, for making the Big Night Out happen. You rock!

Home Away from Home

2011-11-11T22:38:00.000-05:00

Even though we'll be here for Thanksgiving, we took a quick trip to my in-laws' house this weekend so our babies could spend some time with their grandparents. Even though the trip is just a little over two hours door-to-door, the frequency of the visits here and there has lessened over time due to extra-curricular activities, appointments, growing obligations of every variety.

If anything, though, that just reinforces the joy over getting to go to "Grammie's house".

Obviously my kids enjoy it -

4-wheeler rides, a cookout house full of riding toys of all sizes, endless land on which to run and scream without having to worry about disturbing the neighbors, toys that are dragged out by Grammie with the anticipation of the arrival of the grandbabies, treat bags full of candy with their names Sharpie'd onto them before we even arrive.

But it's not just them -

At Grammie's house, I have freedom knowing full well that Grammie & Grandaddy truly desire to hang out with my kids and just enjoy them. Whether they worked all day or they've been off for a week, they have a houseful of youngins who can't seem to stay away. Here, there's always more than one pitcher of sweet tea chilling in the fridge so that it never runs out. There's a jar of pistachios and a tray of cream cheese danish on the counter. I can sit on the couch or in a rocker at the cookout house overlooking the pond with a book of my choice (today, it's Harry Potter & the Goblet of Fire) and just read without distraction. There's the new Southern Living Christmas book on the coffee table for me to thumb through a time or forty while I'm here. There are fresh sheets on the bed. And after the kids spend the whole day outside getting dirty and tracking it all over the house, the motto is, "It's okay. Grammie has plenty of soap and water."

This has become, over the past nine years, one of my most favorite vacation spots. A real home away from home. And even without all of those things I listed up there, this place would be just as special...because of the sincere love we feel when we walk through these doors.

I'm thankful today for this visit - however brief it may be. And grateful for this family that has embraced me as one of their own from the very first day.

What are you thankful for today?

Not On Our Christmas List

2011-11-10T22:03:00.000-05:00

I watch too much childrens programming. I confess. Sarah knows the Dora, Mickey Mouse, and Little Einsteins theme songs by heart. With the shows come the commercials, and those are truly terrible. They seem even worse as the holidays approach. Sarah thinks she needs a matching pee-wee sized pillow pet to match her regular sized one, and so on and so forth.

I can tell you for sure, there is one toy I will not be getting for my child this Christmas.

That's Doctor Drill 'n Fill. Maybe it's my disdain for dentists, but I don't think so. That's just gross.

I know there are millions of "bad toys" on the market. What's something you've seen that caused you to stop and say, "Really???" Come on, you know it'll be fun.

A Joy-Filled Little Girl

2011-11-09T23:29:00.001-05:00

The second trimester is a time of renewed energy, heightened self-confidence, and unbridled joy over your growing belly. At least, that's what the experts say.

I'm pretty tired. And I want to go to sleep, but the heartburn is not letting me lay down. (You really wanted to know that, didn't you?) I owe the lethargy to a particularly energetic two year old who now consistently wakes up at 5am and hasn't napped for two days because she doesn't seem to want to afford her mother a much-needed afternoon mental respite. It's okay. I've endured worse. And, really, I know, someday I'll be longing for the time I got to sit on the floor just outside my little girl's room with my Bible and workbook, doing homework, and reminding her to lay down every 45-60 seconds as she pops her head up and jumps out of bed in protest. That's true, right? I really will long for that twenty years from now, won't I?

I went through the nap nightmare about 9 months ago. It involved a harrowing couple of weeks worth of sitting on the floor outside her bedroom door and doing exactly what I did today - reminding her to lay down at regular intervals. You see, two year olds might be stubborn, but *this girl* won't be out-willed by a toddler. (I wonder where they get that character trait from?) I think this is clutch in parenting. I'm not tooting my own horn. I've shed tears, raised my voice, and all but lost my mind in frustration, but at the end of the harrowing couple of weeks, Sarah was napping in her bed. I won. Consistency is key.

I didn't really plan on blogging about all of that. My bad.

The whole point of this post is to say that even though I may find myself frustrated with this particularly energetic and wily two year old on a regular basis, I also find myself in awe of her spirit. She, not unlike her big sister, has an inherent joy about her that just brings out happiness.

She will find a way to laugh and to make you laugh while doing it.

Today, it was jumping with every ounce of her being (and naked little hiney) from the coffee table to the couch, without regard whatsoever to personal safety (or modesty).

She rocks.

I won't even go into my evolution from helicopter "Don't jump off of the furniture without your helmet and knee-pads on" mom to "Sure, jump from piece of furniture to piece of furniture, just don't expect a lot of sympathy when you bust your face open" mom. I think the difference in me now is that I'm selfish. I want to experience the joy of her experiencing joy.

She just does it so freely. And so well.

Twenty years from now, I might remember sitting on her floor praying she'd just give up and go to sleep, but I hope I remember this face and the uninhibited little-girlness. She's a special princess, my Sarah. And I'm so blessed to have this time with her.

Stream of Consciousness

2011-11-08T21:25:00.000-05:00

I let my mind run away from me several times today. Election Day. Sunday liquor sales. A lawnmower leaving trails of black smoke and huffing and puffing for air as I pushed it along. This picture Abby spotted in one of half a dozen toy magazines:

She dubbed it "a lovely bed". That it is. It's actually a lovely trundle bed for not one, but two dolls. It costs $54.99 at Kmart.

That really got to me.

Especially because I was reminded of a photo-blog I saw on the NY Times back in August.

Where Children Sleep

If you're not in the mood to check it out, basically the photographer went all over the world and took a photo of both child and their living quarters, if living quarters were, in fact, available. They ran the gambit from sad and sobering to over-the-top and excessive.

I'm guessing I know where America fits in when we're buying trundle beds for our kids' baby dolls at $54.99 a pop. But before I digress down that path (again...)...

My mind got away from me as I watched Intervention on A&E this afternoon, mindlessly ironing months worth of clothes and trying not to burn my poking-out-belly, while listening to a two year old outright refusing to take a nap in her room. As my sister so eloquently stated, people with "vanilla" lives like us react pretty strongly to shows like Intervention. I guess she's right.

And after I voted, Sam worked late, and I was home with two precious kids who would so much rather be playing outside than helping me straighten the house after the sun went down too early and one precious child who was doing all she could just to stay awake thanks to no nap, my mind was just tired.

I think Abby could tell I was weary. That's when she said this, "Want to hear a song that rocks? No? Well too bad." And she and her shin-guard protected, flip-flop wearing legs jumped up on the ~~fireplace~~ stage in our living room and proceeded to sing "This song rocks!" at the top of her lungs, at which point Sarah and her flower couldn't help but join in.

It was the perfect combination of silly ridiculousness to snap me out of my nighttime funk this evening.

Whether they know it's their mission or not, it seems apparent to me that these goofy girls are on a quest to help me not take life too seriously. Tonight, they succeeded.

Man is most nearly himself when he achieves the seriousness of a child at play.-Heraclitus Of Ephesus

Radical

2011-11-07T22:13:00.000-05:00

I've always been uncomfortable with the term "radical". It's one of those words that has always carried a negative connotation for me. Then I read this book:

It uses the term in reference to Christianity. And how far American Christianity has departed from the gospel, thanks to the American dream.

...the goal of the American dream is to make much of us, the goal of the gospel is to make much of God.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about the American dream, and how I honestly think it hasn't done humanity a whole lot of favors - by undermining the unrelenting work ethic of our forefathers, by replacing our need for God with the need for more and more and more things, and by exalting ourselves at the expense of, well, anyone else we can trample on our way up. I thought of these things before I read the book, but I didn't think about them in the context of faith.

We are settling for a Christianity that revolves around catering to ourselves when the central message of Christianity is actually about abandoning ourselves.

As American Christians, we celebrate the idea that "all men are created equal." This statement from our Declaration of Independence is grounded in the biblical teaching that every person in the world has been formed in the image of God and therefore has intrinsic worth. It's a beautiful idea.Subtly, however, this equality of persons shifts into an equality of ideas. Just as every person is equally valued, so every idea is equally valid. Applied to faith, this means that in a world where different people have different religious views, all such views should be treated as fundamentally equal. In this system of thinking, faith is a matter of taste, not of truth.......Then I implore you to consider the urgent need before us to forsake the American dream now in favor of radical abandonment to the person and purpose of Christ.

I wrote about our freedom from financial debt last week. The thing about debt is that it nags you. It's a constant whispering in the back of your mind. You can't forget that it's there. We might be debt-free financially, but we are never going to be debt-free when it comes to what we owe our friends, families, and would-be, should-be brothers and sisters in Christ.

The price is certainly high for people who don’t know Christ and who live in a world where Christians shrink back from self-denying faith and settle into self-indulging faith. While Christians choose to spend their lives fulfilling the American dream instead of giving their lives to proclaiming the kingdom of God, literally billions in need of the Gospel remain in the dark.

Every saved person this side of heaven owes the gospel to every lost person this side of hell. We owe Christ to the world - to the least person and to the greatest person, to the richest person and to the poorest person, to the best person and to the worst person. We are in debt to the nations. Encompassed with debt though, in our approach to missions, we have subtly taken ourselves out from the weight of a lost and dying world, wrung our hands in pious concern, and said, "I'm sorry. I'm just not called to do that."

That's just the thing though - we are called to do that. Exactly that. In Jerusalem, in Judea, in Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. In other words, at home and away, with people who are like us and people who are different from us. As Paul says in Romans 1:14, we're in debt to the Greeks and the barbarians, the smart and the foolish.

The population of world (at time of book published): 6,783,421,727. According to most liberal estimates 1/3 of world is Christian. That leaves 4.5 BILLION headed to hell.

This should motivate us. We should be shaken. We should feel that nagging sense of obligation of an unpaid debt. This Thanksgiving season, we need to be thanking God for and giving...the gospel.

And that's just one thing I got out of this book...

....cost of discipleship is great. But I wonder if cost of non-discipleship is even greater.

Fallin' Back

2011-11-06T23:13:00.000-05:00

I used to love the fall time change.

Who wouldn't? An extra hour of sleep? Yes, please.

Then I had kids. And for some reason, it just doesn't have the same appeal anymore. No matter how many times I tell my two year old that she really doesn't need to get up at 5:30am, it just doesn't sink in. And she's so darn happy and snuggly when she wakes up, it's almost hard to be mad at her.

Almost.

If there's one thing I've learned about parenting, it's that you just never know what to expect.

It is now 10:51pm on Sunday evening. As far as my kids' little bodies know, it's 11:51pm. Only the two year old who woke up at 5:30am this morning is sleeping.

I have to say, I wasn't expecting that.

I'm hoping that they choose to utilize that extra hour tomorrow. *fingers crossed*

Until then, I'll brainstorm some actual blog topics. But today, I'm too sleepy to come up with anything more than my lament over one early riser and a couple of night owls. It's not a perfect combination.

Goodnight, world. I can tell I won't be suffering from insomnia this evening!

List Schmist...

2011-11-05T20:56:00.000-04:00

With just 8 months left to complete my remaining 59 tasks, I'm feeling a little daunted. That's okay. Some of them are for sure "no's" at this point. Unless I can somehow manage to donate blood three times in three months immediately after the birth of my March baby, I'm thinking that one isn't going to happen. That doesn't mean I'm not going to give it the old college try anyway. (Unless "old college try" means I'm not going to try hard at all. I actually don't know the real meaning of that term.)

The fact is, I've (and we've) done a lot of things in the past 2 years or so that weren't on the list at all...that were far greater feats than some of the tasks remaining. For instance, we built this beast in our back yard:

And we re-floored our laundry room with tile:

And we were blessed enough to get this good news:

So, in the grand scheme of things stuff like "Grow my own pumpkins" seems a little silly.

That doesn't mean I won't keep on keepin' on.

But it's just like that husband of mine to decide to take on a huge project, both before a baby is coming and before the holiday season. I'm learning to love it. He's the motivated one. While I prefer to sit on the couch and watch singers duke it out for a $5 million record contract or chefs cook with a basket of obscure ingredients for $10,000, he likes to do things like...turn our garage into a workshop so he can build bunk beds from scratch materials while promising to add woodworking to his ever-growing skill-set and ensuring that the quality of materials used is no less than superior.

Sorry, ladies, he's taken.

So that is what we're doing next. I say "we" because I do take some part in the projects, even if it's bringing him a drink or keeping the kids out of his hair. Sometimes I do more than that. Sometimes.

At any rate, our girls are getting new bunk beds for Christmas. I really hope they like them! Knowing my husband, they'll be awesome. I have no doubts.

Flashback Friday: A fateful day in November

2011-11-04T07:00:00.004-04:00

I've been a little weepy lately. I could blame hormones, but that wouldn't be right. I'm pretty much always weepy. I blame my mother. She cries all the time - when she's happy, sad, laughing too hard, you name it. Evidently, I do the same thing - when I hear a beautiful song, when I think about unjust suffering, and, apparently, even when a seemingly insignificant date approaches on the calendar.

Last November was a tough month for me. I hate to dwell on it. When it comes to human suffering, I've not experienced a lot and relative to most, my suffering is puny, at worst.

The thing that rocked my world was this: the week before Thanksgiving, I got laid off from my job.

I'm coming up on the one year anniversary of the day I lost my job. What a ridiculous thing to commemorate. Believe me, I know. The problem is that with the changing of the leaves, the turning back of the clock, and my increasing excitement over Black Friday shopping, the memory of being laid off is attached to each of those things.

I felt, that day, like I lost my identity. I felt, though, that I would be back at work in no time. I was optimistic that a new job, a better job was waiting for me right around the corner. After all, it was no secret that I was underpaid and underappreciated where I worked - even if I adored my boss and the flexibility that he afforded me. I didn't love my job. That's the truth. I can finally admit it.

And now, a year later, I have some time to reflect on this past year.

I interviewed for two other jobs almost immediately after I got laid off. I thought I had both of them in the bag. I know how silly it is to be that confident, but apparently, I was. I didn't get either of the jobs. It bruised my ego a little bit, but I told myself that these two particular jobs were not part of God's plan for me. What was? I had no idea. That's something I'm still figuring out...

Without giving you a month-by-month play-by-play of the past year, I'll summarize for you. Because the year has been awesome. I've done so many things I wouldn't have otherwise been able to do if I were holding down an 8-5 job. Here are just a few of them -

I watched my girls become the best of friends.

For one week, I got to share my joy of Jesus with a group of 22 rising second graders at VBS.

I've had the pleasure of attending Thursday Morning Bible study, something I've always wanted to do, and finally could.

I got to be an "ambulance driver" when Sarah fell down the steps of our backyard playground in the middle of the afternoon and needed stitches.

I imparted a love of coffee to my girls.

I got to watch God provide for our family despite my loss of income, seeing Sam get a promotion at the beginning of 2011, and kissing our debt goodbye in October 2011.

I found out, despite what I thought I knew previously, that I am not in control. God is.

And that is what I believe this is all about. I didn't lose my identity when I lost my job. I found it. I'm not "the engineer". I'm just Jennie, a lost-but-found wife, mom, and friend who has discovered the ups and downs, joys and trials of being at home...something I've simply never been before.

I'm so grateful for the opportunity. Because I promise you, if it had been up to me, I might never have experienced this.

And, you'd better believe I'm crying again. For a different reason this November than last.

Praise God for that.

Delight yourself also in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass … Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him. ~Psalm 37:4,7

Cheating a Little....

2011-11-03T17:06:00.000-04:00

I've had this post in my pocket for a day when I would be rushed to get a post out. Today is that day. My day started with dropping Ben off for book club (an all-too-appropriate club for him to join) at 7:45am, swinging by Sonic for tots & a cherry coke (a breakfast of champions) with the girls, dropping Abby off at school at 8:20am, rushing home to grab breakfast for Bible Study, getting to church at 9:15am, leaving at 11:45am, feeding myself and Sarah lunch, putting her down for a nap around 1pm, fretting about things I shouldn't have been fretting about, doing some laundry, dishes, and general clutter clearing, and boom - it was 3:30pm and time to get the kids.

Notice there was no blog-time in there. And there won't be tonight either because I am headed to church again for a Ladies dinner with Don Piper as the speaker, who just so happens to be the author of the book, 90 Minutes in Heaven. I'm really looking forward to it.

That said, I have about an hour to crank this post out, put on different pants besides my favorite pink polka dotted jammie pants, and if Sam's "lucky", pop a pizza in the oven for the kids so he won't have to worry about that when he gets home. Luckily the church is about 5 minutes from my house, so I'm not likely to be [too] late.

Here's the entirety of this post:

I've checked off a really easy item from The List. I made my first purchase on Etsy last week. This probably shocks and surprises many of you who have known about, loved, and purchased off of Etsy for years, but I'm slow. And I'm not really patient when it comes to browsing. It's a little overwhelming to me. That said, I knew that I wanted reusable baggies for the kids' lunches, and lo and behold one of the shops on there was having a sale. I got a set for Ben and a set for Abby.

Cute, right?

Now I don't have to feel guilty about running through a box of snack baggies every couple of weeks. (I'm good at finding things to feel guilty about.)

That's all...#46: Buy something on Etsy...you have been checked!

Not too late for Halloween Mom Things. (Because I said so.)

2011-11-02T15:24:00.000-04:00

You opted to skip your two year old's nap in favor of attending your church's annual Harvest Festival. Thanks to an endless supply of sweets & candy, she did great. (Helpful hint: A single box of Nerds can last a long time for a two year old. So she was occupied, and not overly sugared by the end of the day.)

You discovered this Halloween that there has never been a child more appropriately dressed than your very own eight year old Harry Potter. He's a dead ringer, don't you think?

You warned the workers at the games to watch out after they give Sarah a ball. She throws a mean fastball.

You weren't sure what "fluorescent red" was when you bought the can of hair spray for your five year old's Ariel costume, but after you applied it you figured it out. Fluorescent red is pink. Hot pink.

That's okay though, because luckily if people didn't know she was Ariel, she easily passed for a Bubble Guppy.

Thanks to some awesome attractions at the Harvest Festival, your Harry Potter got to experience some Quidditch-like flying conditions. Should've brought his broom...

And the irony of a flying mermaid was almost too much to handle.

There's not much of a climbing tree in the front yard, but that doesn't stop your costume-clad youngin's from trying to climb it before trick-or-treating (and any other time they're out there).

Timing three kids in the air jumping is tough to do. But you got two out of three....and the shot of a floating strawberry is pretty hilarious to you.

Just like her older brother and sister, your two year old will do anything to not actually fall asleep at naptime. This includes howling like a wolf, singing Happy Birthday to each and every one of her stuffed animals, and scaling her closet shelves to find blankets so she can tuck them all in individually after they've been serenaded. (Even though said two year old is not in a crib anymore, you're secretly thinking about putting her back into one and finally breaking down and getting that crib tent after all...)

While your two year old is impressively good at color identification, she apparently got thrown for a loop when you asked her what color crayon she was holding and she replied with "Jelly". (It was green.)

That's all for now - I'm just happy to say I made it for the first two days in a row. Phew. Only 28 more to go!

And better late than never - Happy (Belated) Halloween from a pretty cute strawberry, an all-too-appropriate Harry Potter, and a wild woman Ariel.

Quite a Kickoff...

2011-11-01T18:29:00.002-04:00

November is upon us. That means, my mom is a year older today (Happy Birthday, Mom!), loads of people all over the internet will be counting their blessings as a daily reminder of how very much they have to be thankful for (I'm one of them), and National Blog Posting Month has officially begun (also known as the shorter-but-not-necessarily-easier to say NaBloPoMo). I've never participated before, but I've thought about it. This year I'm taking the plunge.

What does that mean? Basically, I am on a quest to post every single day this month. Perhaps overzealous. Perhaps over the top for other reasons - one being I've been struggling with a case of "writer's block" for a couple of weeks now - another being that I'm not sure anyone really wants to read that much of what I have to say. Regardless, I'm embarking...today.

You might think that with 30 days of blogging on my calendar, I'd start off with a short post and save the one subject I have on the tip of my brain for another day. But if you thought that, well, you don't know me at all.

Each of us has a long list of blessings, whether we recognize them or not. Today, I'm choosing to commemorate the end of a burden as one of my most recognizable blessings this year.

In October of 2009, Sam and I (but mostly Sam) decided it was time to get serious, very serious about our finances. He had found a radio show on XM Radio's Talk Radio station earlier that summer and got hooked. He suggested to me that I listen at work. So I tuned in.

According to the host of the show, "Debt is dumb, cash is king, and the paid off home mortgage has taken the place of the BMW as the status symbol of choice."

The man's name is Dave Ramsey.

I would recommend his book, The Total Money Makeover, to anyone who needs advice with their finances. He doesn't mince words or beat around the bush. If you make a mistake, he calls you on it. His financial advice is rooted in the Word. It's simple, really. Don't buy it if you can't afford it. We are not entitled to nice things. Working hard does not mean we "deserve" frivolities. He recommends getting out of debt the same way you learn to walk: baby steps. You can read all about them here.

Not everyone who enlists the help of Dave Ramsey is in debt. Some are just working to more effectively build their wealth. We fell into the former category. The in-debt one. (You know...I like to be transparent.)

I'm happy to report, that in 24 months time, I am able to call Dave up on a Debt-free Friday and shout into the phone, "We're debt free!!!!" You know, if I were a phone person. Instead, I'll "shout" it on this blog. We have no more student loans, no second mortgage, no car payments, no credit card balance transfers to pay off. (Like Dave says, paid-for vehicles drive a whole lot better.) We refinanced to a 15-year mortgage last year, on which we've paid down a significant amount of principal since that time.

We haven't been perfect, but we've done really well. It was about a lifestyle change. We don't pay full price. For anything. We've gone on trips at a fraction of the cost (paid for in cash) thanks to internet deals, coupons, and off-season rates. We have started cooking at home regularly and not defaulting to a quick meal at a restaurant on nights we just don't feel like standing at the stove. We buy nice things at thrift store prices by shopping at outlets, with coupons and gift cards. Clearance racks are my best friend.

This time last year, I lost my job. We were out an entire income. Our first thought was "How is this going to affect us getting out of debt?" The coolest part? It didn't. I stayed home. We saved on daycare. My grocery trips became more efficient. Sam got a promotion in January of this year. And Sam, oh Sam. He was just our rock. We wouldn't have done it without him.

Through all of this mess, we were blessed. I think that's one of the coolest things about obedience. Now...we're free.

Today, November 1st, I am celebrating with my utmost thanks our ability to say "We're Debt Free!!!!"

And that's just the tip of the Thanksgiving iceberg.

P.S. - Just for some perspective on how big of a deal this is for us. The amount we paid off was more than two times my annual salary. Not too shabby.

Kiddie-tober Mom Things

2011-10-26T10:36:00.000-04:00

You thought it was a great idea to "hide" the Halloween candy on top of the refrigerator - a place that has come to be the safe zone for confiscated toys. Only, you found out that instead of preventing your wily two year old from eating the candy, you just encouraged her climbing skills to blossom even further. As of the time of this post, you have removed her from the top of your fridge not once, not twice, but three times.

While you pulled five bathroom rugs from the dryer in the laundry room in a time span of 45 seconds, max, you emerged to find that your two year old had retrieved a Gogurt from the top shelf of the fridge, secured a pair of scissors from a kitchen drawer, and opened the tip without so much as a half-second's pause to ask your help in opening it. More proof that independence is part of the genetic make-up.

Your eight year old continues to make astute life observations. Your favorite one of late came after watching Aladdin with his little sisters. "Why doesn't Aladdin just get a job instead of stealing from people?" We're doing a good job with that kid. I can tell. Second favorite? After watching Jurassic Park with his father, "How do they know that T-Rexes can't see you unless you're moving?" Excellent question, kid. They don't.

Your five year old laughs hysterically at potty humor. You're hoping this is just a phase. Beautiful princesses shouldn't find the words "underwear" and "poop" quite as funny as she does.

Your two year old has followed in the footsteps of the rest of you and your older kids with the love of reading, to the point that she now requires a few minutes with the light on after our standard two books so she can read herself to sleep. Literally.

You think it's cute that your two year old thinks most fruits are strawberries...watermelon, cherries, actual strawberries. Especially since she says it "strawbewwy". It's only fitting that when you spotted a strawberry costume, you had to buy it for her to wear on Halloween.

You send your two year old after her older brother and sister in the other room for bedtime. She returns to you with no siblings, while eating a chocolate chip cookie. Typical.

You watched with amusement as your two girls tossed a pink clothes hanger across the room at each other for twenty minutes worth of giggles. Who needs fancy toys? The simpler the better.

After developing a mild case of the "wheezes", your five year old asks you not why you are breathing loudly, but "Mommy, why are you breathing?" I don't know - so I can not die?

You live for Red Ribbon Week/Spirit Week at school so you can dress your kids up for your favorite of all school events....(drumroll please)....Tacky Day!!!!

(Plus one little "Boo-tiful" sister who wouldn't stay out of the picture.)

Way back in the beginning of October...

2011-10-25T11:31:00.000-04:00

October 2011 has been about nine bajillion times better than October 2010 was. October 2010 had its highlights, of course, including the annual Destin trip, Abby's 4th birthday, a trip to the pumpkin patch, and some hard, productive work on the backyard playground. But this year, I haven't had the looming dark shadow that was The PE Exam. I haven't had to get up early before work to study. I haven't freaked myself out daily over the prospect of failing and having to do all of the early morning studying over again. I haven't subsisted solely on caffeine.

Life has been different this year. In a good way. But also just in a different way.

This October started out the same as last in one respect - Abby's birthday.

We surprised the kids with a backyard camp-out for Abby's party...complete with a campfire, roasted hot dogs & marshmallows, and a tent. The ulterior motive? It satisfied #81 on The List - Sleep Outside.

The evening can best be summed up with the two Facebook status updates I posted that night and the following morning. (Because, apparently, I am the type to give real-time, inconsequential updates to everyone I'm friends with...)

If you think backyard camping is only for boys, you are sorely mistaken. Tenting with the two big'uns in celebration of Abby's 5th birthday, after a belly full of hot dogs and marshmallows. It's been dubbed "The Best Birthday Ever" by our fairy-winged, footie-pajama'd princess.

Surprisingly not a zombie this morning. The kids were so tired they *asked* to go to sleep after only 10 mins in the tent. Thank the Lord for small blessings - like a refreshing night of tent sleep, warm blankets on a record setting low temperature evening, and a breakfast of chocolate glazed Krispy Kreme donuts. That. was. awesome.

If you can believe it (and I'm sure you can, considering the source), I completely forgot to take a picture of the tent, the children in the tent, or the amount of blankets/pillows/comfort items we took out into the tent. Let me just say, it was cold - for Georgia. We set a record low that night around here, getting down to 32 degrees. Luckily, we were about 10 steps from our house. If someone had been watching me set up the sleeping bags and what not, they might have thought I was planning to pull of some sort of Princess and the Pea dramatization, but this pregnant mom was going for comfort. Thanks to several fleece blankets, one of those egg-carton mattress toppers, three sleeping bags, fleece footie pajamas, and a queen-sized down comforter, Ben, Abby, and I stayed toasty warm in the little tent clear through the morning.

Since there are no pictures of that, here are some of the pre-sleeping festivities.

The family looking very unimpressed by Sam's awesome backyard campfire.

Entranced, I guess.

Abby even opened her presents out by the fire. These were her new beach toys for...

...the upcoming beach trip that Sam informed her about in this picture. (And that I already blogged about here.)

Ben's late-night photography skills.

You can just imagine the rest of the story. Abby is the one sawing logs. Ben is the one laying perfectly still with a Harry Potter book under his pillow. And I'm the one having crazy pregnancy dreams about dementors because I'm not as mentally stable as my eight-year-old son.

#81 - Sleep Outside...you have been checked.

Not So Insignificant

2011-10-18T13:30:00.001-04:00

Whenever I hear Alicia Keys sing about New York, I start to have a little anxiety. If you didn't know before, you will now discover that I'm not a big fan of huge cities. They're fun to visit, but I cannot imagine living in one day after day. I suspect this relates to my fear of confined spaces. (Not that I'm trying to run off to the country either. Just call me Jennie-in-the-Middle.)

There's a part of the song where she says, "If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere." And, it's a "concrete jungle where dreams are made - Oh, there's nothing you can't do."

It's interesting. Whenever I'm in a big city the big lights don't inspire me. I don't start dreaming big dreams with high hopes of achieving them. In fact, it only takes a couple of hours before I feel completely and totally insignificant as a human being. In the midst of millions of other people who are hustling and bustling past me without so much as a glance in my direction, I tend to feel lost in the shuffle, unimportant, inconsequential. Every time.

I know that not everyone feels this way. After all millions of people elect to live in this manner. It's just not for me, obviously.

The thing is, I don't want to feel perpetually insignificant. I'm working on my insecurities, and this is a big deal to me.

But then I start thinking - what's bigger than New York City? The earth. The solar system. The galaxy. The universe. Oh yeah, that's right. I'm going there.

In our universe (this never ending expanse full of heavenly bodies), scientists estimate that there are anywhere between 10 sextillion and 3 septillion stars. That's a pretty big discrepancy, but even at the more conservative estimate, that's more stars in the universe than there are grains of sand on every beach, under every ocean, and in every desert on earth. (Thank you, wikianswers.)

What does that say about my respective significance? Do you realize how big stars are? And how small I am, in the grand scheme of something so large as the universe?

Turns out, I have found the answer. And instead of making me feel insignificant, it gives me security and hope.

He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name. Psalm 147:4 (NIV)

Even though there's an indeterminate number of stars in the sky (by human comprehension), God knows how many there are...because He put them there. He even cares about each of the 3 septillion stars (give or take a few sextillion) enough to call them by name. They were created as individuals. If I sometimes feel insignificant as one in a world of seven billion people, imagine how a star would feel as one in three septillion? You know, if stars had feelings...

And yet...

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Matthew 10:29-30 (NIV)

God knows us so intimately He can enumerate the number of hairs on our head, whether we are one in seven billion or not. He's talking about each of us. We are unique in this universe as human beings. He has given us a soul and the free will to know and love and worship Him.

For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. Ephesians 2:10 (NIV)

This workmanship was celebrated in Psalm 139.

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous--how well I know it. Psalm 139: 13-14 (NLT)

How often I need to remind myself of this! My feelings of insignificance are as good as gone when I stop to remember that I am, you are, and we are created in Christ's image to do good works through Him.

I have my "good friend", Beth Moore, to thank for her amazing words in my Bible study last week to tie it all together. For me, at least. I feel like this post has been one hot, unorganized mess, but I just felt compelled to write it. So I don't risk butchering her words in a paraphrase, I'm simply going to quote her here:

I am absolutely convinced that humankind exists because of the Trinity's holy passion to draw others into Their fellowship. God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit desired the existence of humanity for fellowship. They wanted humans to have a will of their own so that they would choose God without being commanded. They knew that equipping people with their own will would necessitate a plan for redemption, because they would ultimately make some very poor choices. Thus, the plan of salvation was already completely intact before the creation of the world.

"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth." Why does God single out our little planet to so love? Beloved, absorb this into the marrow, because we are on it. As despicable as humanity can be, God loves us. Inconceivably, we are His treasures. His prized creation. He just loves us.

Each and every single one of us. Whether or not we feel significant in our daily lives, we are absolutely significant in the eyes of the One who created us. The One who loves us so.

We are so small. Yet the vastness of His love - so high, so wide, so deep, so long - envelops us as the endless universe envelops a crude little planet God called Earth.

Amen.

My prayer today is that we will stop and appreciate the value we hold in the eye of our Creator. When we start to feel insignificant, that we can remember we were uniquely and wonderfully made. That we will never feel lost in a world of so many others because of the reminder that God knows us so intimately he can report the number of hairs on our head.

When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—
      the moon and the stars you set in place—
what are mere mortals that you should think about them,
      human beings that you should care for them?
Yet you made them only a little lower than God
      and crowned them with glory and honor.
You gave them charge of everything you made,
      putting all things under their authority—
the flocks and the herds
      and all the wild animals,
the birds in the sky, the fish in the sea,
      and everything that swims the ocean currents.   ~Psalm 8:3-8

Thursday 13 on Thursday the 13th: Life's Beachin'

2011-10-13T17:21:00.002-04:00

We got back from the beach late Monday evening (and by late, I mean 8pm - because we're old fogeys like that). With perfect weather in the low to mid-80's all week with bright sunshine, a few clouds, and a light-to-moderate beach breeze, we could not have asked for a better time on the Florida panhandle in October. As we packed up to leave on Monday afternoon, the skies clouded up and the rain began to fall softly on our van as we headed north. It rained almost the whole trip home. It was the perfect farewell because it made it slightly easier to say goodbye. It's been three days, and while I still have the piles of laundry and other random items that haven't found their way from the suitcases to their proper home in our house to remind me that we went on vacation, my tan is already fading and I've forgotten at least half of the the hilarity that comes with spending 6 days in a hotel room in a different time zone.

Before it gets any worse, here I am with Thirteen of my Vacation Favorites for you, courtesy of my crazy kids (of course).

1. Sarah commanding me, not so gently, to go "fwim", no more than 15 seconds after we picked our spot on the beach. Other demands with similar immediacy were, "Jump, Mommy, PLEASE!" (as in, "Let's get in the water and jump over waves") and "I need a snack!" (even though we just ate breakfast about three minutes ago).

2. Yes. Snacks. Sandy snacks in a little red cooler. My kids apparently love these. (Friendly suggestion to other parents, do not anticipate sharing snacks with your toddler or 5 year old. Pack separate baggies for you. Just take my word for it.)

3. We're pretty simple people, I realize, but I had no idea how much joy my kids could find by buying a snack at the dolphin cruise snack bar with their own money. I do believe those were the tastiest Fritos and Doritos they'd ever eaten. And I love them even more after discovering this. My simple little offspring.

4. I guess two hours is kind of long for a two year old to hang out on a boat, but it's a good thing that gate was padlocked because Sarah was determined to abandon ship somewhere out in the Choctawhatchee Bay.

5. Family night at the Melting Pot was a far greater success than I ever imagined. Again, 90-120 minutes for a meal is a long time for a two year old, but because it was family night a magician visited our table and made each kid a balloon puppy. Jackpot. (The key to successful outings like this, also, is to go in with very low expectations. Most of the time, you'll come out pleasantly surprised.) Plus, the dessert is so worth the wait.

6. So Ben's sporting a goofy grin - oh well. We had to take this picture because every year for the past however-many-years, we've taken a picture of the kids in this very boat on this very playground. And I love stuff like that.

7. ^This very playground^ might well have been the very highlight of the trip for all three of my kids. Right behind the playground, there are fountains that shoot up from the sidewalk. I've always loved them. Some day I'll lose my inhibitions and run through them with the kids, but this time, I just took their pictures.
(Aren't you glad I did? I just love these babies.)

I have a photo just like this with Ben leading Abby by the hand into the water. They're growing up SO fast! *sniffle*

Look at that face!!!

8. The hooded towels are my favorite "Mommy's helper", if you will. They don't drop off or fall into puddles. And they're so darn cute. Look at the princess and bunny if you don't believe me. (Ben was a monster...and reaching the age where he's a little embarrassed to wear it. It happens.)

9. The hot tub at the hotel was no less than 300 degrees Fahrenheit. The sign assured us the max water temp was 104. It lied. Even so, Abby declared the hot tub "more fun than the pool". Even if we only let the girls sit on the top step. (And that says a lot because both of these girls loved the pool.) Sarah's face says it all in this picture: "Ouch."

10. Building sandcastles is fun. But moving in on the sandcastle the dude next to us started after he packed up and left for the day is even more fun.

11. Each year it proves more and more difficult to catch a picture of Ben on the beach because he spends 95% of his time on the boogie board, jumping over and riding the waves. He's come a long way from when he used to cry every time we put him in the tub and got a little bit of water in his eyes. (Not that I miss those daily bath struggles or anything, but, man, it feels like yesterday.)

12. At some point during the day, my girls find a way to headbutt/roll in the sand and come home with more sand in their hair and scalp than they left on the beach. I'm not complaining. This is just proof that they enjoyed it to the max. For sure.

13. Even though Ben appears to be asleep, I treasure the opportunity for rare family photos like this one. Being able to hem up all three kids in one spot and snap a picture.

Priceless.

I'm not going to lie, I will miss the unlimited fresh, free coffee in the hotel lobby (decaf, don't worry) and coming back from the beach to a hotel room with clean linens and a neatly made bed. But I also know that if I had that every day, I wouldn't appreciate it. That's what makes it vacation. That, and the thirteen things I mentioned, plus oh-so-many more that I didn't. My soul has been refreshed.

But just like always, it's good to be Home.

Flashback Friday: Cruisin' Together

2011-10-07T22:50:00.002-04:00

Sam and I (and then Sam and I plus a few little critters) have been coming to Destin, Florida at least annually for nine years now. It's a tradition, if you will, that we absolutely adore and look forward to every year. Some years we've been blessed with company including Sam's mom, aunt, cousin and newlywed wife, and grandmother. Other years, it's just been our nuclear family. No matter what though, it's a joy. And not a privilege that we take for granted.

Inside of the yearly beach-trip tradition, we've begun another tradition, that being the Southern Star Dolphin Cruise. Regardless of the month of the year, the temperature of the air, or the number of kids in tow, if it's at all possible, we make reservations to go on a two-hour boat cruise of the Destin Harbor, Gulf of Mexico, and Choctawhatchee Bay in search of dolphins. As an added bonus, the cruise is out during sunset and we get to watch the gorgeous orange fireball set along the horizon of the water. You may know by now that sunsets are one of my things. I think there are very few physical phenomenons in this world that point to our Creator in such a way as the brilliant colors of the sunset (the other obvious one being the birth of a child). Sunsets are a piece of artwork that are undeniably unique and brand new each and every day.

Tonight, we went on this cruise. And each year, the kids get to line up and take a turn at the wheel of the big boat once we get out into the relatively calmer waters of the Gulf. Each year, they sit in the captain's chair and put on the captain's hat, and hesitantly smile at the camera as they "navigate" the waters for a minute or so.

And while you thought this post was going to be about sunsets...you were wrong. Instead, it's about captain's hats. And creatures of habit.

Without further ado, and because these are all of the photos I have access to here on vacation, I give you - Captain Ben, Captain Abby, and the newest addition to the seafaring gang, Captain Sarah.

It's amazing the difference a single year can make, let alone five or six. I count my plentiful blessings that I've had the opportunity to share this time with these precious children. Speaking of the differences a year can make - remember this time last year? I was settling down with my Civil Engineering Reference Manual, a heaping pile of unsolved practice exam questions, intravenous coffee, and a healthy dose of anxiety...while sitting right here - along the beautiful scenery of the beach my family loves so dearly. Never in a million years could I have imagined that my life would take such a dramatic change of direction in just a single year's time....

....but that's a whole 'nother blog post.

For now, the Captains are asleep, and I'm thinking it's a good time for me to turn in too. Next year, we'll have another one.

I can't wait.

Much love, from a Herd of Sheps

Vacationin'

2011-10-05T17:49:00.001-04:00

I'll probably be pretty scarce this week. We've taken our annual beach trip to the sunny shores and emerald waters of Destin, Florida. It's fall break for the kids, and it's off-season so we love the sparser crowds and lower prices. But, we also did this so we'd have an excuse not to go to the Georgia National Fair. What we failed to remember is that we'd drive right past it on the way to and from the beach, thereby reminding the kids about it. (I should mention that Sam and I are not big fair-going people.)

But we are fair people. And by that, I mean, we are pale. Almost as pale as a particularly dear family of "pasty-white redheads" that I know. (I use quotations on that because it's their self-given title, not one that I've assigned to them.)

Needless to say, we're on Day 1 of our family beach-going vacation and after 4 hours of perfect sunny, 80-degree, and breezy weather, each of us has a random sunburn spot (or a dozen) to show for our time on the sand.

My oldest son was kind enough to pose for a picture just to prove that I'm not making this up. (I mean, he "posed" after he told me he didn't want me to take a picture of him and ran into the bathroom to hide for a couple of minutes.)

Poor little raccoon eyes. Or sad clown eyes. Your choice. I do that to at least one kid every year.

At any rate, like I said, I'll be scarce this week because I'll be off being a bad mom and failing to apply complete coverage to my kids' bodies while they baste and bake in the always-blazin' sun of the Florida panhandle.

Of course, my eternally-optimistic husband reminded me that if I were really a bad mom their whole bodies would be red like that.

This is true.

Hope you all are having a blessed week, and that some of you, somewhere in this country, are enjoying some fall weather and colors on my behalf.

See you when I decide I can't not write any longer.

Thursday 13: Pregnancy "Favorites"

2011-09-29T21:38:00.001-04:00

Pregnancy is full of joys and blessings. There's simply no denying it. There's also no denying that the mere sight of a pregnant woman causes, for a large portion of the population, all tact, decency, and sane human behavior to evaporate into thin air. Okay, that might not be an undeniable truth, but in the mind of an emotional pregnant woman, it feels as such. We're not exactly rational ourselves.

I've had the joy of being pregnant four times, and each experience has been entirely different from the others. But even after all these years, I can think back with a chuckle and an eye roll on some of my "favorite" pregnancy memories. You are "lucky" enough to hear about some of them today.

1. The Backhanded Compliment - "You look great! It only took three pregnancies."
2. The "When are you due?" Inquiry - not so bad, except, I had the baby 6 weeks ago.
3. The kind bathroom attendant at the Hard Rock Cafe in Atlanta who, upon the sight of me in my 8th month, insisted that I use the handicapped restroom. Out of spite, I shrugged her off and attempted to navigate in the inhumanly small regular stall. In retrospect, I could have taken her suggestion and been a little more comfortable, but, you know, no one wants to hear they can't fit into a bathroom stall. Even if it's true.
4. The way my taste buds change rendering my favorite foods like meat and coffee inedible and causing the strangest things I've never liked like black olives, red onions, and all things cupcake to be suddenly irresistible.
5. The Predictions - "I can tell you're having a boy because your nose got bigger."
6. The Sage Advice - "Don't bend over and put your head below your knees or your baby's cord will get wrapped around its neck."
7. The clever quips that never cease to be awkward, especially coming from someone like your great aunt or grandmother-type-figure - "You do know what causes babies. Right?"
8. The Touchers...you know, the complete strangers who come up to you in the produce section of the grocery store and start rubbing the belly, as if for good luck. Really...it's not okay to do that to anyone pregnant or not. Probably especially not.
9. The unabashedly vocal souls who find themselves in a state of shock at your mammoth body - "You sure you're not having more than one baby. Whoa!"
10. The Incredible Shrinking Booths - Restaurant booths seems smaller and skinnier with each passing day. I never in my life imagined I'd be one of "those people" who had to sit in a chair because I might not physically fit into a booth.
11. The Loss of Wind - Beginning in the second trimester, I start to feel breathless - and not doing anything necessarily physical - doing things like reading a bedtime story to my four year old and moving laundry out of the dryer and then from the washer to the dryer. A kind friend recently told me this probably has to do with the double amount of blood coursing through my body, causing my heart and the rest of my organs to work extra hard. Yeah. Let's go with that.
12. The Temporary Demotion of your Favorite T-Shirts - It's no secret I like to wear the same rotation of five or six t-shirts and yoga pants 24/7/365. At some point though, it ceases to be comfortable/feasible when greater than 50% of my belly is hanging out of the bottom of the t-shirt. Two words: Not cute.
13. The Fateful Day - Maybe this doesn't happen to every pregnant woman, but in my house - there's the day when I pass my husband on the scale. I have this fear of our house burning down, my legs suddenly not working, and Sam having to carry me out to safety, but not being able to. (These, by the way, are the types of dreams I have when I'm pregnant.)

So maybe it's not that bad. I know so many who would give anything just to be pregnant, and it's a gift I don't take lightly. The thing about pregnancy is...the end result.

You get to take home one of these.

So all of ^that stuff^ can be summed up in two words -

Worth it.

After a brief hiatus from the Mom Things- back with more!

2011-09-28T14:22:00.001-04:00

After a quick survey of the playroom, you consider that if naked baby dolls were currency, you'd have to be among the richest families in the world.

Although you don't exactly enjoy hearing your two year old cry every other time you get into the van, you do find it endearing that she gets that upset when you don't go to church. She starts the inquisition in the garage - "We going to church, Mommy?" If the answer is "no", she defaults to requesting a trip to Chick-Fil-A and/or the library. Can you tell the places we frequent most often?

You applaud your childrens' creativity and hate to squelch it under most circumstances, but when they start using dining room furniture to build an indoor playground, you have to put a stop to it. You know, in the name of safety.

After retrieving an unidentifiable skinny, red object from your two year old's mouth, you ask her what it is, and she happily replies, "It's clock!" Yup. That's the second hand from your cute, miniature wrought-iron table clock. What on earth possessed her to rip it off and taste it? We'll never know.

Whether you ran to the grocery store for milk, spent an evening with friends, or walked down the driveway to check the mailbox, you love that your girls are just as excited to see you walk through the front door as if you'd spent a year abroad.

You find out the fastest way to infuriate your eight year old is to tell him you have a surprise for him. Turns out, he's not into mysteries.

You couldn't help but laugh when your hot-natured-by-genetics eight year old walked out into the oppressive late-September heat one Sunday afternoon and vehemently declared, "I wish we lived farther from the equator!" (Preach it, brother.)

As penitence for a punishable offense, your eight year old was subject to be your personal gopher for an entire evening of chores. After a surprisingly agreeable two or three hours of service to you, he thought it would be clever to begin saluting you every time you gave him another instruction. You can't lie. You kind of liked it.

Although it's been nearly a daily occurrence in your pantry for months, you finally snapped a shot of your toddler's primate-like climbing skills as she endeavored to reach a lollipop on the 4th shelf.

You know that most parents tend to have biases towards their own kids' abilities, but when you pulled the family painting out of your four year old's bookbag, you were impressed. And you felt justified when even her eight year old brother admired the artwork. Kudos to the budding artist in the family. Lord knows she didn't get that from her mother.

(Additional commentary on the painting: That's a black sun in the sky and on Mommy's shirt. Not a mother spider swooping down to rescue a baby spider off of Mommy's belly. And Abby, herself, is not in the photo because she "didn't feel like it". Sam and I maintain she just ran out of room. Too many people in our family already, huh? She's going to have to learn to go landscape instead of portrait. She totally nailed the dark circles around my eyes though. Love her attention to detail.)

Blessings, my friends! Have a Happy, Happy Wednesday!

Filling my cup...

2011-09-26T22:06:00.002-04:00

I've said a time or twenty before how my cup runneth over. I've reminded you, my "readers", that your cups run over as well. It's all about taking the time to recognize our blessings.

In case it hasn't been obvious (in which case, hooray!), I've been a little out of sorts lately. Not sure if it's my identity crisis or my wavering sense of purpose fulfillment or if it's the fact that in this season of my life, I've transitioned from an active state of doing to a much more difficult state of just being.

Sometimes, though, that's what we're called to "do" (for lack of a better word).

Be still and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10

I'm a mover and a shaker and an eternal list-maker. But all that means is that I'm used to being busy. And sometimes, busy is the last thing we need. Sometimes if we don't realize this on our own, God will find a way to make us stop. To force us to be still. And even more simply - force us to just be.

I'm in a Season of Being.

I'm thankful for the opportunity. If nothing else, it's a clear contrast to the lifestyle I'd grown accustomed to, and a distinct chance for me to round out my "life resume", if you will.

While my cup ran over back in the other times, my cup still runs over today. And I've thought about the different ways my cup gets filled. After a particularly great day, I tend to stand in the shower and think at least once, "My cup is full right now." (Unrelated note: in case anyone is wondering, I just broke the Guinness World Record for the number of times the word "cup" was used in a single paragraph.)

Turns out, it doesn't take much -

It can be a couple of hours one Friday night free from the responsibilities of child-rearing thanks to a husband who came home from work and took the three kids and split so I could spend time with my lady friends, whether I've known them forever or just met them, laughing over commonalities, great food, and yearbook pictures. Because, man, we all look better now than we did then. Even if some of us (cough, cough - me) have gained a couple of pounds over the years.

It's the sight of a older, unfamiliar child befriending my Sarah on the playground, whether she needs help or not, just because they have that sweet helpful spirit.

It's a husband who hears my demands for random pregnancy cravings like cracker candy and salmon croquettes and finds his way into the kitchen to make them for me.

It's walking into church and seeing smiling, familiar faces that genuinely care about me and my family. Spending every Sunday and Wednesday and days in between with people who truly commit their lives to being more like Jesus. And knowing that my children would rather be in their company and at church than anywhere else.

It can be the simple victory of not bowing to the fatigue of pregnancy, and instead being productive around the house or taking a walk or even just reading a book.

It's knowing that the reason that Ben has such a hard time getting up in the mornings is because he cannot put his book down in the bed at night.

It's having Thursday morning Bible study to look forward to every week, knowing that I have the unconditional support of friends I may have just met, but won't likely soon forget.

It's things like seeing the unrestrained joy on Abby's face when you tell her that this is the last time she will ever be four years old on a Monday again.

It can be a glimpse of my three children sitting quietly, side-by-side, enjoying a movie we recorded on a free movie weekend, wrapped up in the new comforter on my bed.

And just like that - my cup is filled.

And running over.

How was your cup filled today?

I don't know what I am: Reprise

2011-09-20T16:53:00.000-04:00

In a moment of weakness or insecurity or extreme-open-bookedness (yeah, I know, that's not a word), I posted the original "I don't know what I am" post. Then, that evening, as I opened up my book to do my Bible study homework from Beth Moore's Beloved Disciple, wouldn't you know, my dear friend Beth asked us to do a little self-examination. As a baseline for our present perceived identity, at the beginning of the study, she had us write in our workbook Who You've Discovered You Aren't and Who You've Discovered You Are.

Isn't it funny how God puts these things on our heart first, and then right in our face next?

Everyone on earth fills a variety of unique roles. Me? I'm a wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, grand-daughter. At various points in my life I've been single, a girlfriend, and a married woman, working full-time, working part-time, staying-at-home, a student. I'm a picker. I'm a grinner. I'm a lover. And I'm a sinner.

Sometimes...I'm a joker.

Some days, when my guard is down and I'm feeling especially insecure (and it doesn't help if I'm hormonal and pregnant on top of that), Satan gets a foothold and pushes me down. On those days, thanks to my dear friend Beth's biblical wisdom, I have learned to remember John the Baptist.

He was a man who knew who he was.

I am not the Christ. John 1:20

And who he wasn't.

I am the voice of one calling in the desert, "Make straight the way for the Lord". John 1:23 (ref Isaiah 40:3)

He knew his position compared to Christ.

He is the one who comes after me, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. John 1:27

Yet, on that note, and I underlined this straight from my workbook -

"He understood Christ's greatness and how unworthy he as in comparison, but he didn't see himself as having the value of an inchworm under a rock. His life had value through its connection to Christ." ~Beth Moore

As life goes on, I think it will become abundantly clear to me that trivial things like whether I'm labeled "homemaker" or "engineer" will become less important to me when I put the immeasurable value I have due to my relationship with Jesus at the front and center.

Self-esteem, schmelf-esteem. I've got Jesus. And He is security.

How about you?

A Little Purging

2011-09-16T17:55:00.001-04:00

Question: What is all of that?

Answer: All of the clothes in my closet that I either haven't worn in years, don't fit into, or that I have given up on ever wearing in the next decade. Another acceptable answer would be "An unconscionable amount of extraneous articles of clothing"

Upon taking this picture there were 74 pieces of clothing including sweaters, blouses, jeans in the single digits, skirts, a suede skirt suit, and a way-too-revealing, never-been-worn maxi dress that looked awesome online but less than awesome on my body. I added more to it as I delved into my dresser drawers as well.

Let me tell you, if there is ever a time to purge your wardrobe, the fourteenth week of pregnancy is ideal. I'm to the point that I need to start making room in my closet for my "totally awesome" and equally "stylish" maternity clothes, and I'm also to the point that if something isn't comfortable to wear, I am totally willing to part with it. (See above photo of 74+ articles of clothing.)

So instead of lugging these unworn clothes up to the attic, I am donating them. The best part? This was on my list.

#45 ~ Fit into or give away all of the clothes in my closet.

Done. And couldn't be more relieved. My muscles and bones might be aching a little bit more from my growing belly, but the rods in my closet just breathed a huge sigh of relief.

#45, you've been checked!

I'm not going to jinx it by saying too much or counting my chickens before they hatch, but I'm optimistic that I will be checking off at least one more list item this weekend.

Slightly more light-hearted: The Mom Things

2011-09-14T14:46:00.001-04:00

Because "Mom Things" are more fun than melodrama, current events, and whining...

You celebrate the fact that your toddler is so insistent on helping you to vacuum that she doesn't even care if she's bare-bottomed. Not exactly sure June Cleaver would approve of this.

You find it especially fitting that while vacuuming bare-bottomed your unpredictable toddler pauses to play a tune on the harmonica. SO typical.

Thanks to Facebook's "On This Day in 2009/2010" feature, you have enjoyed more than a chuckle or two at the things your funny kids have said and done in years passed. Among your favorites in recent days - when your three year old took some liberties with the lyrics to Old McDonald - "And on this farm he had a cow - EIEIO - and on this farm he had a horse - EIEIO - and the horse loved the cow!" - and when your six year old scoffed with hilarity at the mention of "Michael Jackson" - "Is that a name or a thing?"

You are elated to enjoy the fruits of a long hard labor - one of which is your soundly sleeping toddler, in her bed, with nary a resistance. In case you don't recall, there were days this time last year when it would take hours to keep her in her bed, calm, only to finally fall asleep.

On a related note, you tell every new parent you meet, that the best things for your children and your family are rarely the easiest. If it's easy, you'll likely pay for it some day.

After a long summer of water play in the back yard and a few weeks of no activity back there, you decide to put the pool away and let the grass grow back in that crop-circle-looking area off of your back porch. Of course, this would the very same day that temperatures plunged into the 60's and your girls decided to don their bathing suits and have a water fight.

In case it's not obvious, the superior weapon did Sarah little good. Abby kicked her tail with nothing but a cup.

You let your eight year old watch the George W. Bush 9/11 Interview because of his unfailing curiosity about the events that transpired that day. When it was over, you asked if he had any questions, and he said, "I have a few." Bracing yourself for some big ones, you wait. His first question? "How did they make it look like the president was just floating in a black room in space?"

Guess he wasn't all that traumatized by the footage...but the camera tricks? Those blew his mind.

Birthday parties are guaranteed to get out of hand at Grammie's house. Thanks to his Aunt Star this new eight year old had a jug of Hawaiian punch all to himself.

After spotting your toddler with a Dorito in one hand and a chocolate chip cookie in the other, there is simply no denying it...she is your daughter.

While cleaning up her room, your four year old proudly announced, "I'm just going to hide the little stuff behind my door!" You almost hated to spoil her brilliant idea by telling her that was unacceptable. She was so proud of her plan.

September 11, 2011

2011-09-11T13:50:00.002-04:00

Ten Years.

Wow.

We will likely always remember where we were (my freshman dorm room), what we were doing (sleeping in before my first 10:50am Tuesday class), and how we reacted to the news (my roommate came back from breakfast, turned on the tv, and we stared at it in silence with our hands on our faces in shock). Though I don't know anyone who died that day personally, the sights and sounds of that morning will never leave my memory.

I shy away from politics, for the most part on this blog, though most people who read it, I suspect, know my leanings. September 11 is not the time to discuss politics. Today is a day of remembrance for the lives who were lost. Yes, even those lives who masterminded the whole thing.

I will say this. As I watched the George W. Bush 9/11 Interview on the National Geographic Channel, I remember how so very grateful I was on that day and I remain to this day that we had a leader like him at the helm of our nation. Not even a year into his presidency, George W. Bush encountered a crisis the likes of which most United States presidents pray they never have to face. He did it with grace, with gumption, and with determination. And I remember thanking God for his leadership.

If you were unable to watch the interview, it's showing again today at 3pm (EST), and if you can't watch it then, allow me to offer you some excerpts courtesy of a man who showed unwavering resolve when I have no doubts many of the rest of us would have crumbled:

After receiving the news that the second tower had been hit while he sat in a classroom of children in Florida -

I had been in enough crises as governor to know that first thing a leader needs to do in a state of emergency is protect calm. I hastily scribbled a statement and walked into a classroom of parents where they were expecting to hear "Man, what a great reading program you have" and instead they were going to hear the president say, "America's been attacked."

I remember thinking that the first plane was likely an accident, the second one was an attack, and the third plane was a declaration of war.

After being whisked away from the elementary school and prepared to board Air Force One at the Sarasota airport -

The stewardess was at the top of the stairs sad, concerned, and frightened, and I remember giving her a big hug and saying, 'Everything's gonna be alright.'

This, to me, shows where his heart is. Here this woman stood, likely terrified to be flying with the president, and he took the time to stop. And comfort her in the midst of unthinkable tragedy when he was no doubt preoccupied.

There was a lot of sadness on Air Force One. We saw the images of people dying and I just knew the heartbreak was ravaging families. The most powerless I ever felt was when I saw people jumping to their death on TV and there was nothing I could do about it.

It became apparent we were facing a new kind of enemy. This is what war was like i the 21st century.

You really don't know what it's like to be a war-time president until the moment occurs. I never campaigned on "Please elect me, I'll be the kind of war time chief you'll be proud of." The war came upon us unexpectedly, and at that point in time we just deal with the issues. There's a certain gravity, of course, that comes when you start making decisions that involve life. It's one of these moments when you can't weigh the consequences or think about the politics - you decide. And I made the decisions as best I could in the fog of war. And I was determined. Determined to protect the country, and I was determined to find out who did it and go get 'em.

From speech at Barksdale AFB in Shreveport, LA -

Freedom itself was attacked this morning by a faceless coward. And freedom will be defended.
.....
The resolve of our great nation is being tested. Make no mistake. We will show the world that we will pass this test.

From Offutt AFB in Nebraska where he learned at a National Security Briefing that it was likely the work of Al Qaeda -

I made the decision I'm going back to Washington against the objections of just about everyone else. I'd had it. I said I need to get home. A lot had developed. It was important to wrap the day up with a presidential speech assuring people that the government was functioning and responding and that we would take the appropriate action as necessary to protect our country. And I damn sure wasn't going to give it from a bunker in Nebraska. I wanted to give it from the Oval Office. I didn't want the enemy to have the psychological victory of a president speaking from a bunker in the heartland of our country and not speaking from the capital that had been attacked. So I told the secret service, I'm coming home.

I felt I needed to strike the right balance between comforting and grieving and going on the offense.

The Oval Office speech was as close to a declaration of war as we could get without declaring one.

One of the things that changed on September 11 is the notion that we were protected by oceans. In the past, conflict would happen in remote lands. We were protected at home. The shock was profound.

On September 14, George W. Bush flew to Ground Zero -

From the air it looked like a giant scar, but when we actually got to the site...it was like walking into hell.

There were firefighters, police men and women, rescue workers lining the way in. I decided I was going to shake every hand. I looked in everybody's eye, I could see bloodshot eyes from people working overtime. As I worked my way down, people started saying, "You get 'em", it was kind of a palpable blood lust. These workers were interested in finding out whether or not we were going to go find that enemy and bring 'em justice. That's what they wanted to know.

As I got on top of a pile of rubble that ended up being a destroyed firetruck, somebody handed me a megaphone. I didn't have any prepared remarks, but I knew I could cobble something together in front of the crowd that would comfort and reassure them. "I want you all to know, that America today is on bended knee in prayer for the people whose lives who were lost here, for the workers who work here, and for the families who mourn."

(We can't hear you!)

"I can hear you, the rest of the world hears you, and the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon."

The terrorists never won. They may have thought they won. They inflicted terrible damage on people's lives and our economy, but they were never going to defeat America. They just didn't understand us. They didn't know that we were a nation of compassionate, kind people who are courageous and who would not yield to their barbaric tactics.

May 1, 2011 -

President Obama called me and told me that Osama Bin Laden had been killed. And my response was I congratulated him and the special operators that conducted a very dangerous mission. I was grateful. I didn't feel any great sense of happiness or jubilation. I felt a sense of closure and a sense of gratitude that justice had been done.

Eventually September 11th will be a date on the calendar like Pearl Harbor day. For those of us who lived through it, it'll be a day we'll never forget.

Yesterday, George and Laura Bush, VP Joe Biden, Representative John Boehner, and former president Bill Clinton went to Shanksville, Pennsylvania to honor those who died heroically on United Flight 93.

In the remarks George W. Bush gave, he quoted one of the most well-known speeches in our American history - the Gettysburg Address. It was chilling to note the parallels, however un-similar the events that prompted the address -

We can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. ~Abraham Lincoln, from the fields of Gettysburg, PA, November 19, 1863

Today, I'm going to remember how deeply loved by God each of us are. You, me, the misguided souls who devoted their lives to destroying the lives others, the men and women who were simply going into work for another day of their lives to never come again, the countless rescue workers who either lost their lives or devoted their lives to helping in the aftermath, and to the men and women who guard our freedom in this country day in and day out. If there's something more uniting than the horrible aftermath of a tragedy, let it be this. We are God's children. Every single one of us.

I don't know what I am

2011-09-07T13:08:00.000-04:00

I got a letter in the mail the other day. At first it made me chuckle, and then it made me a little sad.

But first, a bit of a preface...

This time last year, I was consumed with the impending Professional Engineer exam. You may remember. Aside from working 40 hours a week, doing all the normal work involved in raising three children, and attending a 2-day-a-week boot camp, I was waking up at 4am to study for the exam before I started my day.

I got by with a little help from my friend.

October 29th rolled around and I sat for six of the most mentally exhausting hours I can remember in my well-examined life. Less than one month later, I was laid off from my job of five years, a realization that was as painful for me as it was for my boss.

Just after the New Year, I got a thin envelope from the testing company. In two short, but oh-so-sweet words, I passed. The irony was so thick it almost dripped out of the envelope. All that I'd worked for in my past five years of the "real world" and the prior four years of engineering school had finally come to fruition. I had attained my license as a professional engineer.

And I didn't even have a job.

Fast forward to now.

I walked back from the mailbox with a letter in my hand from the Georgia Society of Professional Engineers addressed to my whole formal name, complete with my PE license number, inviting me to a dinner and reception in honor of the new professional engineers from the October 2010 and April 2011 exams.

I'm not sure why it startled me. But it did. Here I am, nearly a year later, feeling as though that was a lifetime ago. And, honestly, I don't know what I am these days.

Whenever I have time to kill (aka - the breather I catch from a 25 minute episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse), I sit down to fill out internet surveys in exchange for swagbucks so I can trade those in for $5 Amazon.com giftcards. This is how I "earn my keep". If I don't make a salary, I can at least earn $5 Amazon cards, right? (So silly/ridiculous/unnecessary, but this is how my mind works.)

On almost every one of those surveys, it asks my employment status - full-time at home, full-time out of the home, part-time at home, part-time out of the home, self-employed, full-time homemaker, currently unemployed, retired.

I never know what to pick. Am I a homemaker? Or am I unemployed? At this point, I have settled into my role at home, but I still think of myself as unemployed because had I not been laid off, I would absolutely still be working. I haven't given up on going back to work, but I am also a realist who knows that civil/environmental engineering jobs are not exactly plentiful in central Georgia at this time. On top of that, we are now having little Shep #4 in March, so I have a desire to put the hardcore job search off until then, especially if I pursue teaching.

I don't know what I am. And when I stop to think about it, this is incredibly frustrating for me. I have always liked to put people in boxes and categories. And I don't seem to fit into one right now.

I've always had an all-or-nothing perspective on life and accomplishments. Maybe it's time for a paradigm shift. I can't expect myself to be everything to everyone all of the time. What I need is to be who I can be, as best as I can be, with no excuses. And if I do that, who cares what box I fit into?

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men. Colossians 3:23

P.S. - It might not hurt to wake up and say to myself, "You is kind. You is smart. You is important." Who's with me?

Sarah - The World's 8th Wonder

2011-09-04T00:40:00.002-04:00

Some things never fail to amaze me - like the fact that someone saw the potential for glue-making out of a horse, the fact that my favorite beverage of all time was at some point developed because someone looked at a coffee bean and said, "I bet we can drink that", and the fact that we have successfully sent human beings into outer space to walk about in a climate unfit for human life and lived to tell about it.

One of the closer-to-home wonders in my life is really close to home.

It's Sarah.

As I watched her jump off the diving board into the deep end of the pool today where she wholeheartedly trusted without so much as a second glance that I would be there to catch her, I realized it. She is phenomenal. I mean that. She's a pretty cool kid. Exhausting, yes, but awesome too.

I ran through her recent accomplishments - scaling the pantry shelves, catapulting herself onto every horizontal surface in our kitchen with one reach of her incredible legs, and successfully reaching board games and footie pajamas from the upper-most reaches of her closet.

There's simply no stopping her once she's made her mind up.

Then I remembered something.

I never really blogged about our trip to Virginia back in July. Now it's September and I've forgotten most of the specifics. (Not surprisingly.)

But I did remember a pretty awesome Sarah story - and that's why I'm here after midnight. (That, and I'm waiting for freshly boiled peanuts to cool off so I can put them in the fridge.)

One of our destinations in Virginia was Busch Gardens. We went there several times over the course of the week, usually at night because it was just smokin' hot the whole time we were there and hanging out in the long lines with no chance of cooling off at the end in 100 degree temps is no fun, especially with a two year old.

Overall, the park was pretty kid-friendly. While Ben and Sam ventured off on the serious thrill rides, the girls and I took the tamer route and rode the safe-for-toddlers rides. We tried the miniature sleds that go around and around, the log flume, the swings, and the carousel. They were great, and Abby could sit by herself while I ~~wrestled~~ sat with Sarah.

Then there were the rides where there are no parents allowed. The first of which were the hot air balloons. Abby sat across from Sarah. The seatbelts were really snug, one per kid, and required the attendant to unlock them at the end of the ride. So basically, there was no chance of escape. As long as Sarah got on last, and didn't have to wait long for the ride to start, she was golden. But I was still a nervous wreck watching from the other side of the wrought iron fence. Lo and behold, it was a success. No permanent injuries sustained.

We moved to the next ride.

They were the gliders. You could sit next to a partner or lay on your belly. I opted to let Abby and Sarah sit in a glider next to each other. It's the kind of ride where you pull the lever to adjust how high in the air you go. The seatbelts went across both of their laps, so they had to share it. There's no getting that snug enough. I had only been shuffled out of the gate for about 10 seconds when I turned around and saw Sarah standing up, waving at the kids behind her, completely free from the seatbelt. The ride attendant didn't seem to notice. And it was only after the kind gentleman next to me shouted at the top of his lungs to let me back in, that she sauntered over to unlock the gate and let me rescue Sarah from certain death.

Let's just say Abby rode that one alone.

We moved on as a family unit of five to a playground with a ton of kiddie rides around the perimeter. You know the kind. They have the same ones at every amusement park/fair/beach I've ever been to. Cars/boats/airplanes that go around in a circle. I'll spare you most of the details, save for the boat experience.

These particular boats were two seaters. One person in the front, one in the back. The boats were enclosed by a mesh screen that snapped into place after the kids were buckled into their grocery store cart buckles inside. Between each boat was a wall of plexi-glass that prevented the kids walking along the railing from falling into the water.

Abby sat in the back and Sarah sat up front. They behaved until the ride got started. That's when Sarah unbuckled herself from the not-at-all-sophisticated seatbelt and traded seats with Abby while the boats circled the pool. I'm not sure how many people have had experiences this, but watching your young daughters play musical chairs inside of a moving carnival ride is a little unsettling to say the least. It didn't stop there. Sarah ripped the mesh snaps off and proceeded to hang her head out of the side of the boat like a dog out of a car window. Just as she approached the potentially-decapitating plexi-glass, she pulled back inside - then she repeated.

The best part? The ride attendant had NO idea this was going on.

The worst part? Every single parent watching did notice.

Even worse? I did not want to claim them as my own children. I thought about joining in the discussion. "Yeah, look at those wild and crazy girls. Their parents need to get a handle on that!"

It took the ride attendant no less than 45 minutes (okay slight exaggeration) to park those boats between the plexi-glass barriers, all the while Sam and I were trying to verbally instruct Sarah not to jump out.

She was finally allowed to get out, and, here comes the best part, she helped Ben unsnap the mesh because he couldn't get out of his boat.

Miss Independent. There is simply no stopping her when she's made up her mind to climb/jump/eject herself.

Impressive doesn't even come close.

She's a phenomenon.

Who? Me?

Good thing she's cute.

Oh, and if you thought you couldn't hurt yourself on the carousel. Think again. Abby managed to skin two knees changing horses. After exiting the ride, a helpful member of the janitorial staff contacted a medic who came sprinting across the park Baywatch-style with a duffel bag full of bandages. After signing 10 minutes worth of paperwork promising not to sue Busch Gardens as I was (once again) wrestling Sarah, he finally applied a couple to her bloodied knees.

What's the phrase I'm looking for here? Oh yes. Never a dull moment.

Our next adventure - Destin, Florida: October 2011. The gulf might be experiencing Tropical Storm Lee right now, but they need to start getting ready for Hurricane Sarah.

Patience, Humility, and Other Life Lessons

2011-08-31T10:46:00.001-04:00

I'm not sure who coined the phrase "The Lord works in mysterious ways." (So, I looked it up. It's based on a hymn written by William Cowper - the first two lines of which are "God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform". There you go. Your fun fact for the day.) I do think we aren't always aware of God's "movement" in our life and how He has a hand in molding us through our circumstances. The good and the bad.

I think, for me, a lot of molding has been done since I became a mother. (Could I possibly talk about this again? Yes. Yes I can.)

You see, Sarah has been the answer to my prayer for patience. Patience isn't a gift you're handed, it's a virtue you learn. And it's not even a virtue that I believe someone can come to on their own. Patience is a fruit of the Spirit. Love and joy, those are easier to embody, especially once you have kids. Patience, however, is something I personally have had to rely on to come from the help that lies Deep Within. Sarah has found sure-fire ways to test my patience, and I find my reactions dramatically different on days when I wake up and remember to ask God's Holy Spirit to guide me versus days I think I can handle things on my own. Long story short - I cannot handle things on my own. No matter how good I think I am.

And I have to tell you, after having three kids, I think I'm pretty good. Seeing as how Ben and Abby were and remain to this day complete and total opposites both in looks and in personality, I thought I had all of the bases covered when it came to parenting. We have the strong-willed (aka "stubborn") academic type in Ben. And we have the boundlessly energetic, whimsical, more-dramatic type in Abby. Both of which required totally different parenting techniques. We learned and we adapted. And we were really good at it.

We had it all figured out...

...then we had Sarah.

She has taken their personality traits and combined them into a dangerous combination of strong-willed with boundless energy and she's topped it off with an excessive dose of independence. We're still learning and adapting, but I'm not sure anyone really knows what to do with this type of personality in a two year old. She's awesome. Don't get me wrong. But she's not easy. And I think she is a gift given to me from God for this purpose:

Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted. Matthew 23:12

Zing. Turns out, we have a lot to learn. And I know I've been humbled.

Turns out, my kids have taught me a lot. And here I thought it was my job to teach them. I'm not off the hook - it still is my job.

As they get older and start to feel influences other than from their (so humble) righteous parents, I get to pull out my biblical wisdom and share it with them, just like my dad used to with me when I thought the world was unfair and I was looking for commiseration. (I rarely got it.)

When Ben asks why he has to be good when everyone else is being bad, I can tell him:

Because if we know what's right we're duty-bound to do what's right.

Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins. James 4:17

When Ben asks why teachers have higher expectations of him than some of his classmates, I can tell him:

Because he was blessed with the ability to know and discern and achieve more.

But the one who does not know and does things deserving punishment will be beaten with few blows. From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked. Luke 12:48

When he asks why we have "so many rules" and (in turn) consequences?

I can tell him because we love him enough to discipline him. (Minor soapbox here: I don't really think we have "so many rules", but I do think that many parents choose not to have any, which I am sure does make it hard to understand for a seven year old.)

No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. Hebrews 12:11

I guess children are a gift in way more ways than one. An unexpected benefit is how much more I've been convicted about what I believe through my relationship with them. It's like God giving us a small glimpse of what it's like to be our Heavenly Father. We love these kids unconditionally, even when they're far from perfect, and even when it seems they don't deserve it.

That's it for today, folks - I have to go because Sarah is currently scaling the shelves in Abby's closet. She is determined to play Hungry, Hungry Hippos. Right now.

"Lord, give me patience." (wink, wink)

#55 - Read the entire classic works of Dr. Seuss to my children.

2011-08-28T23:03:00.003-04:00

Finally.

We had to wait for May 2011 (not 2012, geez, what year is it anyway?) to finish this task from The List because the last book, I Can Draw It Myself, was out of print and unavailable until then. By some sort of Dr. Seuss-reading miracle, it was re-released this summer. Someone out there knew about this list, I'm sure of it. I definitely have that kind of pull, right?

I don't remember where I got the list of the collection of classic Seuss works. I'm pretty sure it's not comprehensive, and it also includes several titles written under the pseudonym of Theo LeSeig. But whatever. It's the list I found, and the list I used - with 63 titles. Ben, Abby, and I read them all together -

Excepting One.

And it just so happens, it was, perhaps, my most favorite book of them all. (That's a tough title to give though, since I'm such a huge fan.)

It was this one:

(picture from Wikipedia)

Maybe this story was particularly endearing to me because of my own Lady Godiva. You might know the one:

But the more likely reason is because it was Dr. Seuss's only book for adults. Of course, it was an immediate failure, released in 1939, mid-Great Depression, and totally unappreciated in its time. (The good ones always are.) I would hardly say it's on Dr. Seuss's list of most popular books, but I feel lucky to have gotten a re-released version on Interlibrary Loan. I ate that book up. Against my better judgment, I read the naked ladies book to Ben, who had a few questions and totally didn't appreciate the brilliance of Dr. Seuss's unmatched wit.

In a nutshell (from my favorite source Wikipedia):

The book recounts in prose the tale of not one, but seven Godiva sisters, none of whom ever wear clothing. The explanation for their nakedness, even when walking in snow, is that "they were simply themselves and chose not to disguise it." The story opens with the sisters' father, Lord Godiva, deciding to leave for the Battle of Hastings on horseback. This upsets the sisters, as horses are wild and untamed animals. Sure enough, before Lord Godiva even manages to leave the castle walls, he is flung from his horse and killed. As a tribute to their father's fate, the Godiva sisters agree to never marry—despite the fact that each is courting one of seven brothers named Peeping—until they can warn their countrymen of the dangers of horses. The book then follows the sisters as they set out on individual quests for "horse truths", which turn out to be well-known sayings involving horses.

Apparently, given the reaction from the readers back then in the Depression Era, Dr. Seuss decided to stick to writing children's literature because they are "more appreciative". This is when he coined his popular phrase, "Adults are obsolete children, and the hell with them."

While I'm elated about his kid literature, I can't help but imagine what he might have written had he stayed in the adult realm.

This is already waaaayyyyyy too long and only about one of his awesome books. So, of course, I will default to a brief list of my remaining favorites from the list of 63. I know you're all going to run right out to the library and borrow them.

Not surprisingly, I most enjoy the ones with the moral at the end (and the middle and the beginning). That's just the kind of gal I am.

Jennie's Top Nine Favorite Dr. Seuss Books in no particular order

(because I already counted The Seven Lady Godivas)

I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew

Thidwick, The Big Hearted Moose

The Lorax

The Sneetches and Other Stories

Horton Hears a Who

Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are?

Oh The Places You'll Go

Oh Say Can You Say?

How the Grinch Stole Christmas

So there's your challenge. If you haven't read them. Go do it. Yes, I'm being bossy. You won't regret it. (And if you do, that's your prerogative. Different opinions are what make the world a fun place to live, right?)

But you'll take away this kind of wisdom:

When you think things are bad, when you feel sour and blue, when you start to get mad… You should do what I do! Just tell yourself, Duckie, you’re really quite lucky!

I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind. Some come from ahead and some come from behind. But I’ve bought a big bat. I’m all ready you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!

So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact, and remember that life’s a great balancing act.

I love it. #55, you've been checked. And it was awesome.

Sunday Fundries

2011-08-28T14:39:00.001-04:00

Sometimes after church, we race the thousands of other church-goers in Warner Robins to a restaurant for Sunday lunch. Mostly we frequent the type of restaurant that provides crayons and coloring pages for the kids, because, hello, we have three of them.

A free salad bar for children two and under helps too.

And unlimited wipes available at the table are an additional bonus.

Sarah occupies herself by using her sophisticated sampling stick (sometimes known as a french fry) on each of the variety of barbeque sauces.

While we pull out every trick in the book for keeping a tired, cranky Sarah from climbing out of her high chair and taking laps around the restaurant, our older two kids contentedly entertain themselves with the aforementioned coloring pages.

Sometimes, these are real gems.

Apparently, Abby's favorite thing about a baseball game is when it gets rained out.

And she doesn't have to go.

And that, ladies and gents, was a short-but-sweet smile o' the day.

Flashback Friday: Remembering a bit of it all

2011-08-26T23:23:00.001-04:00

While I was getting nostalgic over my birthday, I decided to go all out and reminisce about everything. I tend to do this more regularly as I get older, as we grow our family, and as significant days come and go on the calendar. Today is one of those days. August 26, 1919 was the day my beloved grandfather was born. He got married on August 26th, as well, to the love of his life, my grandmother, whom he adored just as much on their last day together as I'm sure he did on their first. I've written about him a lot. A great man, he was. And on this day, every year, I miss him a little extra than I do on every other day of the year.

I remember when I found out that I was pregnant with Ben. We had lost Grandpop just two months earlier. After he was born, I remember feeling sad that my children would never know him. The same can be said for his wife (my grandmother) and my maternal grandfather, who passed before him. But as long as I remember him, I'm going to tell my stories about him. Because, well, he was awesome. And the kind of man every man should be.

As our family continues to grow, I'm brought back to that same place of realization - that my kids will never have the privilege of knowing their great-grandfather. And he will never have the chance to meet them.

Now I am a parent, not even a grandparent, and I have that strange honor and joy of watching my sweet kids grow up in the blink of an eye. Grandpop always used to say we were growing up too quickly. I now have a small understanding of that - thinking back on each of their sweet lives and remembering how quickly it all goes by, and praying that they turn out to be people of character, just like my grandfather was.

I remember each of them as a tiny infant - in my arms - so wholly reliant on Sam and I to care for them.

There's the joy of seeing them become independent two year olds - so vivacious and ready to take on the whole world, just like Sarah is right now.

Before I know it, they're off to school - and facing their 5th birthday, just like Abby is at present.

Then, what feels like a few days later, they're about to turn eight, mature and confident, independent (more so and in a more timely manner than when they were just two years old), and just as amazing as the day I first laid eyes on them. And I wonder - where has the time gone?

While my grandfather doesn't know my babies here on this earth - I do. And I'm thankful for each and every day I have with them. Even, and sometimes especially, on the days they drive me absolutely insane.

The days are long, but the years are short.

No matter how old you are.

Flashin' back to every day before now that I've had the joy of being "Mom" to these beautiful babies, remembering with gratitude the time I shared with Grandpop, and feeling blessed to be the bridge between these two incredible generations.

What greater thing is there for human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to be with each other in silent unspeakable memories. ~George Eliot

Mom Things: Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy!

2011-08-24T15:26:00.000-04:00

If there's one thing you've forgotten about potty training since your last experience it's that among the accidents and other unpleasantries there is one happy, naked, chocolate-covered little girl.

You remember one time, twenty minutes ago, when you had a clean floor. You know, right after you mopped. And the kids were asleep for the next twenty minutes.

You look forward to every afternoon pickup with your school kids because you get to dive into their agenda to see how they behaved for that day. Upon first glance, you open your pre-k child's agenda to find a lengthy note home. For a split second you dread what her offense was, until you read it: Another student spit out a Cheerio at snack time and your daughter picked it up and ate it. You know what? If that's the worst to happen, you chalk that day up in the "Win" column.

Your 2nd grader found a Make-Your-Own Word Search online thanks to his spelling homework. Needless to say, you received a book of customized word searches for your birthday. Your favorite was the "List of Things Mommy Likes" one.

There's this thing about reading - big bro might be "too cool" to be read to but he's not too cool to read to his little sisters.

You think it's sweet that your 2nd grader would rather be in the gardening club than the running club- his rationale being because he can "just run with you" anytime. (Guess you better dust off the old running shoes.)

The day you realize your toddler can reach light switches is the day your electric bill goes up significantly. You never know when fans and lights in random rooms are going to go on and be left on indefinitely.

There's nothing your third child can't do naked - complete puzzles, eat lunch, yell into the fan, scale pantry shelves. The sky is the limit. Literally.

Your toddler has taken crib-hoarding to a new level. Instead of sleeping with books, she's resorted to sleeping on books.

While the older kids are off filling their minds with knowledge you put your toddler to work doing hard physical labor. First job - mow the back yard. You didn't start early enough with the other kids doing chores - here's your chance at redemption.

Have a blessed Wednesday, everyone!

Thanks again for reading!!!

Half a Lifetime Ago

2011-08-22T20:14:00.000-04:00

I don't know what it is about my birthday, but it puts me in a retrospective mood. Last night at dinner, Sam commented that he thinks it's weird that kids born in 1990 can now legally drink. Yes. That is weird. And it made me feel old. Then I realized I am getting older, and so I thought about where I was half of my life ago.

My first thought - Seinfeld (arguably my favorite show of all time) has officially been off the air for half of my lifetime. Now that blows my mind.

I know that I'm relatively young, and certainly too young to be having memory troubles, and yet, I had to resort to a scrapbook in my 257 degree attic to get the memories flowing. I still have no idea what half of the things in there are all about, but I remember a few things, and they made me smile - mostly.

Seriously - why did I save this?

According to the back of it, it qualified me as a member of the "Traced Name Club". No recollection of that. At all.

And this?

I vaguely remember this being a "funny" thing one of our teachers said. No idea why.

But this? I saved this as evidence from my half-life-ago to prove to posterity that I am and always have been a super nerd.

Apparently, memory problems plagued me even in my earliest days because, as I flipped through the scrapbook I found that one of the comments on my Farewell to 5th Grade paper on which each of our classmates wrote a memory about us, my 5th grade teacher quipped, "I will miss how you always forgot what you were going to say, your sweet smile, and your constant generosity. ~Miss Ryan" So, yeah, I've always been a bit of an airhead, I guess.

Regardless, it was a fun exercise to think back to my 14-year-old self.

On August 22, 1997, I was about to start high school. I had come off of a summer of volunteering at the VA nursing home at the hospital complex over which my dad served as the maintenance engineer. I got over 50 hours in that summer, doing things like refilling water pitchers, wheeling patients to the canteen to make purchases, doing crafts, and just chatting. I met one of JFK's body guards during my stint there. He was a particularly grumpy in-patient who grumbled every time I brought him his Ensure to drink between breakfast and lunch. Encounters like that are the kind that make you almost famous by association. I may as well have been present at the assassination.

By the time my birthday rolled around that year, I'd already endured a couple of weeks of early morning field hockey practices, during which time I either demonstrated enough skill or was lucky enough to have joined the team when there was an unusually low number of upperclassmen and found myself one of two freshman on the varsity roster. I don't have a record of how we fared that season, but if memory serves me correctly, we couldn't have won more than two games, and our coach rounded out the season with a bona fide nervous breakdown.

About a month into the school year, there was an electrical fire at the high school rendering the entire building unfit for use. The resulting solution was for the middle school to share their facilities with the high school. Half days for everyone. It was a sophisticated operation, and one that we freshman were less than thrilled about. We'd just gotten out of that school. We sure didn't want to go back (even if our entire school day was then about 4 hours long instead of 7.5). Just in time for the homecoming game and dance, JHS re-opened.

I remember the things that plagued me back then. The biggest troubles in my life were "so major" like whether to be in band or play sports. In my mind, they were mutually exclusive. You simply couldn't do both. As a freshman, I was in band for two semesters. Betcha if you didn't know me back then (or even if you did), you wouldn't have guessed that I was a flute player. During the first semester of freshman band, I apparently caught the eye of our director and was invited to play in a small group of wind instruments aptly dubbed "Chamber Winds". The nine of us had the privilege of performing for the school, at a church concert, and at our school's Blue Ribbon Awards banquet for distinguished Maryland schools (back when JHS was still a pretty awesome school).

In the spring, I played lacrosse. Basically, I was copying whatever my sister did in high school. I didn't even buy my own equipment - just used her old stuff. This time I was the lone freshman on the varsity team, and I'm pretty sure I didn't belong there. One of my most vivid memories is when the coach would pair up an old guy with a young guy to practice passing. One of the "old guys", in particular, would always pick me as her partner just so she could throw the ball as hard as she could right at my face. I suppose she thought she was doing me a favor by forcing me to catch the ball. I suppose she actually was. But she didn't have to have that scowl on her face while she beamed it at me.

I didn't know, at the age of fourteen, what adversity or troubles even looked like. I hadn't lost a loved one that was close to me. Teen pregnancy, drugs, alcohol, the heartbreak of a first love - these were all things that I only read about in young adult novels or the newspaper and things with which I certainly didn't have any first hand experience. My life experiences were limited to those of my small, metro-Baltimore suburb - population: 14,700. My friends were coasting through life in a similar fashion. Being 14 was, in a word, easy - simple.

A lot would change in my life in the next fourteen years. (Don't worry, I won't start singing Tim McGraw here.) That's just what happens in this crazy ride. Cumulatively, it's what has made me "me" at 28 years old - a former full-time engineer turned housewife of three, soon-to-be four, kids in a suburb of central Georgia, a member of an amazing Christian church, with a circle of friends that can't be beat. But I still forget what I was about to say all of the time.

The good news is that I finally look my age. You know, as opposed to the 12 years old I looked when I got married.

Or the 8 year old boy I looked like when I was a freshman in high school.

Yikes.

Pretty sure I'm thankful to have aged.

Thank you, God, for all of my blessings, big and small. Old and new. Including those wrinkles, hard times, and these precious children that have made me look every bit of twenty-eight. (About time.)

Simple Pleasures: Reading in Bed

2011-08-18T16:57:00.002-04:00

There have been a lot of traditions I have tried to start with my family that have fizzled out over time. One tradition that I am happy to say I have been ridiculously committed to, however, is the bedtime story with each of my children.

For those years when Ben was a solo child of mine, we read book after book at bedtime. We let him persuade us into reading more and more of them. We knew it was a stall tactic, but we didn't mind. Those were precious moments, and we knew they wouldn't last forever.

When Abby came along, we limited bedtime to two stories each. It was amazing, still, how much longer it took with just one more little child.

Just before Sarah was born, there was a short period of time when I was able to cheat and I would read one "boy" book and one "girl" book to both of them together, as we laid Abby - Mommy - Ben, side-by-side in Abby's double bed.

Then Ben started reading to himself, those big chapter books, and he didn't "need" me anymore.

And, really, I was okay with that because while he didn't need me to read to him, he was still reading. And that's what we were trying to instill all along - a love of reading.

Besides it came just in time for me to start reading to baby sister, Sarah. This girl is third in line of three kids who love to read. She'll grab any one of the books we've amassed over three children, and she will ~~bring~~ throw books to at anyone who might remotely look like they're able to read and sit in their lap before they know what hit them.

Following in the strong-willed steps of her older brother, I find her resisting sleep in favor of devouring a good book in her bed. Even if I don't actually witness her doing this, the evidence is clear -

She's got no less than a dozen books in her bed on any given day. She rotates them out from a giant stack she has shoved underneath her bed. (Apparently the bookshelf is just too far away.)

I love this.

I should be upset that she's staying up late and straining her eyes, but the truth is, it's in the genes. I did this when I was a wee one. I kept 3 or 4 novels under my pillow and read by the dim light of my nightlight so that I wouldn't get caught by my mom for staying up past bedtime.

This is about as rebellious as goody-two-shoes get.

I still love reading at bedtime. It seems to be the only remedy for insomnia I've found guaranteed to work.

Today's simple pleasure is knowing that all of these children of mine love to read - at bedtime or not. Though, the fact that it happens at bedtime reminds me of my childhood when I looked forward that precious time with a good book.

TV. If kids are entertained by two letters, imagine the fun they'll have with twenty-six. Open your child's imagination. Open a book. ~Author Unknown

Sharing this at Dayle's Simple Pleasures Party today - better late than never!

What kind of things? Mom Things.

2011-08-17T09:16:00.000-04:00

You realize that laughing might have been the inappropriate reaction when your son (in complete monotone) tells you "Sarah just broke a toy with her bare hands."

You turn the corner of the hallway to find a trail of toys from one end to the other. Your oldest ~~son~~ inventor informs you it's all part of his plan to lure Abby into a "booby trap" in his room created especially for her. Later, he thought better of letting her fall victim to it because "it was way too painful for her". Geez. (Good thing she had no idea what all of those toys were about after all.)

Your husband took each of the oldest kids out for an individual date night on Saturday only to find out that your four year old is scared of Smurfs (her quote when the movie started "This was a bad idea.") and that going to an all-you-can-eat buffet before a playground results in a short stay...because nature calls.

The first time your daughter got in trouble at Pre-K was (in her words) because the kid next to her wouldn't be quiet. Apparently he was making weird noises just to bother her. (With an older brother you'd think she'd be used to that by now.)

On Saturday mornings, everyone in your family tries to pile into your queen-sized bed to watch cartoons. If only you'd known that throwing a couple of pillows on the floor in the shape of a "bed" could be so much fun, you could have been catching a few extra's zzzz's all these years.

When your toddler emerges from her big sister's room wearing a different colored sock on each foot and on each hand, you hesitate to see what's become of the sock drawer.

As much as you love routine, your toddler waking you up every morning by jumping on you, shouting "[Little] Ensteins!" in your ear, and subsequently demanding, "Milk!" is not your ideal start to the day.

Now that the older brother and sister are back in school, you and little miss have been known to ~~occasionally frequently~~ regularly have chips and string cheese for lunch. That's half-healthy, right?

After teasing with your daughter that they weren't going to let her in school because she was dragging one morning, she asked what would happen then. You told her she'd just stay home with you, to which she replied, "Well that would be bad." She's quite the little encourager. Good thing you are mostly secure in your mom-abilities.

After having two kids who get embarrassed when you catch them playing pretend, you finally got one who is not ashamed to be "caught" playing with her toys. Her favorite exchanges between the toys (typically Barbies) - "What you doing here?" "My turn next!" "We're flying, flying, flying!"

Dennis, I mean, Sarah the Menace

2011-08-16T18:16:00.000-04:00

I have always said that age three is "worse" than age two. By worse, I mean that the "Terrible Two" thing is nothing compared to the "Thunderous Threes".

Then I had Sarah. And I learned what the terrible twos are about. It's not that she is terrible. She's just very...passionate. About everything. Some might say she's got all of the characteristics of someone diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Particularly the extreme highs and lows within nanoseconds of each other.

The terrible twos, in my opinion, are the direct result of a yet-undeveloped means of communication. She says lots of words, but mostly nouns - not adjectives. So it makes it harder to describe how she is feeling. That makes life challenging to say the least. And the result is a violent reaction. Thunderous even...a year early. She's so advanced.

So in the times when there is a calm, I should know by now that mischief is abounding.

And yet somehow, I find myself so relieved for the calm, that I enjoy it for thirty seconds, a minute, maybe even two. And then...

I find her.

Sometimes she's digging in the refrigerator for string cheese or pepperonis. (Are two year olds supposed to be able to open the fridge unassisted? Do we need to sign her up for the World's Strongest Girl competition?)

Sometimes she's quite literally scaling the pantry shelves in a quest for lollipops or other candy.

Sometimes she's buck naked jumping on my bed.

Sometimes she's coloring on Ben's bunk beds with markers that are available only in his room. (The same bunk beds, I might add, that I grew up sleeping on, and that for the past twenty-some years, have existed with nary a single marker mark on them. Thanks, Sarah.)

And sometimes, she finds something new, something exciting...

Something wet.

Like...overflowing the bathroom sink, but only after dumping an entire bottle of kids shampoo into it...and smearing her soapy hands all over the mirror.

"Uh oh"

What you can't tell from the picture is that there was quite literally half an inch of standing water on the counter top, a cupful of toothbrushes tipped over and filled with the soapy water, and thanks to the non-existent overflow hole (which is something that's always troubled me) in our "fancy" sinks (which, by the way, came with the house when we bought it) there was also enough water to fill the two drawers under the sink, and wet every towel in the cabinets underneath.

That's talent, ladies and gentleman. (And apparently, I'm a neglectful parent. Moral of the story: Two minutes of Sarah-unseen is two minutes too long.)

Come to think of it, I don't think that this is an example of the Terrible Two's at all.

I think it's just Sarah. Period.

I'm pretty sure she's kin to Dennis the Menace. (And here we thought Abby was our mischievous one.)

Just goes to show you - you can never get comfortable in the parenting role. Because then God will give you a situation - or, in this case, a whole new kid to rock your socks off.

And that she does. She rocks them right off.

I love this little girl. Menace or not.

(And we're having another one of these??? Ha! Bring it on.)