You see what I did there? The actual saying goes, "Nothing new under the sun". But since we haven't seen the actual sun in nigh on 50 days or so, I went in another direction.
There's nothing like over-explaining a lame joke to make it more lame...
I'm going to be honest. I don't really have anything to say. I decided to write down some words because I'm trying to do things to avoid losing my sanity. I hate winter with my whole heart. I have to work hardest during the winter to just be a normal person. Please note, I have to work fairly hard at this when it's not winter. You can imagine why I'm exhausted. Every spring I feel extremely proud if I have any friends left. I've mentioned that I'm a hard person to be friends with. It's waaaaay worse in winter.
Can we pause and let me just tell you that if one of my children gets up out of the bed again tonight, this post will never get published because I will have thrown my computer through the window? Which would be counterproductive in so many ways. I would have no computer and I have serious doubts about whether my children would be in bed. However, they might be scared of me just enough that they wouldn't cross me again for at least fifteen minutes...
I was away over the weekend, leading a retreat for the staff at the preschool. Before you imagine me being a fancy retreat leader, let me say that this is a group of about 15 ladies, most of whom are my dear friends. My former boss indulges me and allows me to share whatever I've been learning or whatever I think might be uplifting to the group. When she asked me to do it this time, I told her no. Please note this is not a woman you say the actual word "no" to. But, I told her I was in a pretty rough spot spiritually. I had nothing uplifting to say. In fact, everyone's spiritual life would probably take two steps back if she let me say anything. I was sad about it, because teaching is my ticket to go on the retreat. Since I'm no longer an actual staff member, I shouldn't be allowed to go. But, because I taught last winter when I was on staff, she asked me back in the fall. And then she asked me again. I don't know. She's a glutton for punishment. Anyway, she literally would not take no for an answer and said, "Well, seeing as it's not up to you, but up to the Lord, I think you are supposed to do this regardless of what state you're in. This will force you into the Word. It will be good for you. So, I'll put you down."
See what I mean? You don't say no. And, as usual she was right.
I definitely want to share what we talked about over the weekend. It's going in the file with the Dominican stories. I have to really muster it up to write about those things. In the meantime, re-entry was fairly brutal. Clearly, my kids were saving up all the angst for my return. Kids do this to moms, you know. You go away and then when you come back you get a little bit punished for the going away. Like they think if things are rotten enough, maybe you'll never go away again. Maybe you'll just sew yourself to them and never leave their side. Maybe you'll get a sweatshirt with three head holes so you can just walk around all together, all the time. I'm kidding. I'm sure they don't really think that...right??
Real life. If you can find HIM there, you can find HIM anywhere!!
Monday, February 10, 2014
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
B-I-N-G-O
When you're a parent, there are some things that you know for sure you're supposed to do. Sometimes those things sound fun. And then you actually do them. In the doing of the things, you realize sometimes you're supposed to do them because it is helping your children become better little people. The goal then becomes my not becoming a worse person in the process!
The sentiments above are how I feel about playing games with my kids.
You can think me a witch. If you do it's because you don't have kids, or you have tiny kids. I know. I was the same. I couldn't wait for my kids to get old enough to play games. I LOVE games. And, I don't want to ruin it for you. But maybe if I give you a little glimpse into reality, you'll be, shall we say, prepared, for your own game playing days.
The thing about playing games with your kids is that it is the most interminably SLOW process ever in the whole world. Not only does it just take kids longer to do everything, they have very small attention spans. Being able to wait a whole round until their next turn is like you and me sitting through an hour long lecture on deep space.
For Christmas my aunt got us a Bingo set. I was SUPER excited about it because it has the cage and the handle and you turn it and the ball comes out the bottom. I know!! It's OK that you're jealous, because who doesn't want their own Bingo cage?
I was excited about this game, because it is really a simple concept. There's not counting of spaces, there's no strategy to teach, very straight forward. I had high hopes that this game would not make me lose my mind.
As the holy scripture says, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick." My hopes have been deferred.
First, when we pull out the Bingo, there is the fighting over who gets to spin the cage. I'll be honest and tell you that it is tempting for me to declare myself the all-time spinner. I fancy myself like the lotto girl who comes on after the local news. If only my Bingo cage were bigger...
After we decide who the spinner will be, we have to make sure the spinner can actually make the cage spit out the balls. Sometimes I have to hold the base of the cage because the spinning gets too vigorous. Sometimes the spinner will spin the cage in the wrong direction, seemingly deaf to my calm requests that they spin it the other direction. They only catch on when fire shoots out my ears and I scream, "Turn it the other way!!!!!!!!!!!" "Oh yeah," is usually the response uttered. I mean. I just...
Finally, when the spinner finally gets the ball out of the cage, one of the younger of us may have some trouble reading the higher numbers. Which is fine, because said family member is young. What is not fine is the refusal of this person to have help. Also, this same person might fall into fits of laughter in between the reading of every.number. Sometimes both of my children will just completely stop what they are doing and just stare at me! WHAT???? Spin the dadgum cage!!!!!!!! And, of course, the grand finale comes when the loser throws a complete fit as the winner prances around the family room. What? I get excited when I win!
You can imagine that I'm very fun to play a game with.
I wonder how my kids would describe this same game. Probably something like, "Yeah, Mom, she's a nightmare to play a game with. She sooooo impatient. Just chillax already." Just kidding. My kids don't say chillax. I was trying to project into the future and give them a teenage voice. But I suppose teenagers won't be saying chillax by then. It'll be something just as delightful. I can't wait to throw the word around just to annoy them!
I'm counting on the fact that all these hours I'm logging playing games with my kid is like character building double duty. We're working on them, and we're definitely working on me.
If only I could figure out a way to work wine into our game...
The sentiments above are how I feel about playing games with my kids.
You can think me a witch. If you do it's because you don't have kids, or you have tiny kids. I know. I was the same. I couldn't wait for my kids to get old enough to play games. I LOVE games. And, I don't want to ruin it for you. But maybe if I give you a little glimpse into reality, you'll be, shall we say, prepared, for your own game playing days.
The thing about playing games with your kids is that it is the most interminably SLOW process ever in the whole world. Not only does it just take kids longer to do everything, they have very small attention spans. Being able to wait a whole round until their next turn is like you and me sitting through an hour long lecture on deep space.
For Christmas my aunt got us a Bingo set. I was SUPER excited about it because it has the cage and the handle and you turn it and the ball comes out the bottom. I know!! It's OK that you're jealous, because who doesn't want their own Bingo cage?
I was excited about this game, because it is really a simple concept. There's not counting of spaces, there's no strategy to teach, very straight forward. I had high hopes that this game would not make me lose my mind.
As the holy scripture says, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick." My hopes have been deferred.
First, when we pull out the Bingo, there is the fighting over who gets to spin the cage. I'll be honest and tell you that it is tempting for me to declare myself the all-time spinner. I fancy myself like the lotto girl who comes on after the local news. If only my Bingo cage were bigger...
After we decide who the spinner will be, we have to make sure the spinner can actually make the cage spit out the balls. Sometimes I have to hold the base of the cage because the spinning gets too vigorous. Sometimes the spinner will spin the cage in the wrong direction, seemingly deaf to my calm requests that they spin it the other direction. They only catch on when fire shoots out my ears and I scream, "Turn it the other way!!!!!!!!!!!" "Oh yeah," is usually the response uttered. I mean. I just...
Finally, when the spinner finally gets the ball out of the cage, one of the younger of us may have some trouble reading the higher numbers. Which is fine, because said family member is young. What is not fine is the refusal of this person to have help. Also, this same person might fall into fits of laughter in between the reading of every.number. Sometimes both of my children will just completely stop what they are doing and just stare at me! WHAT???? Spin the dadgum cage!!!!!!!! And, of course, the grand finale comes when the loser throws a complete fit as the winner prances around the family room. What? I get excited when I win!
You can imagine that I'm very fun to play a game with.
I wonder how my kids would describe this same game. Probably something like, "Yeah, Mom, she's a nightmare to play a game with. She sooooo impatient. Just chillax already." Just kidding. My kids don't say chillax. I was trying to project into the future and give them a teenage voice. But I suppose teenagers won't be saying chillax by then. It'll be something just as delightful. I can't wait to throw the word around just to annoy them!
I'm counting on the fact that all these hours I'm logging playing games with my kid is like character building double duty. We're working on them, and we're definitely working on me.
If only I could figure out a way to work wine into our game...
Monday, February 3, 2014
When the Weekend is Too Long and Not Long Enough
Saturday started with a broken bowl.
One of my real life, grown-up bowls that I picked out before I got married. One of the bowls that I can no longer find because dish companies like to make ladies lose their minds. And buy whole new sets of dishes, but can anybody really do that?
I did not yell. Or freak out. Because the child who dropped it? They knew. And they were really, very sorry for what happened. When I feel like someone really understands why I'm upset, I really am very mild in my reactions. There's a whole treasure trove there just waiting for some professional to dig into!
Saturday is my one and only true day off. Because I work on Sundays and have to be at work at the ever lovin' crack of dawn, Saturday is my only day that I'm not running the gauntlet. Except, by the nature of life, sometimes Saturdays have their own gauntlet. Activities and what not that require I leave the house and be dressed presentable. Ish.
By the time the Broncos got drilled in the Super Bowl last night, I was ready for a weekend do-over. Just one more day. I needed just one more day. And by some miracle I got it! There was an impending millimeter of ice forecast, so school was cancelled! BONUS DAY!
And, people, it has not disappointed. My kids have played together the entire day. No fighting, no tattling, no exasperation. I have had the pleasure of sitting and listening to them play while I manage to be productive. Ish. Earlier today we had our very own NBA draft. I overhead Drew giving an "interview" before he was drafted. I couldn't hear everything he said, but I for sure heard him say, "Oh yes, I was born ready." ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? And then he proceeded to call out the top ten draft picks complete with made up names and the universities they attended. I'm so glad he didn't know I was listening. It was the most entertainment I've had in days!!
Later, Emily came downstairs carrying a few pairs of her shoes. She put them in the shoe basket and told me she was playing shoe store upstairs. A few minutes went by and she called me upstairs. She had actually been cleaning her room. She was thrilled with herself that she had played a trick on me!
I'm really not trying to brag. This does not happen everyday. Or even close. Somedays your good bowls get broken and you scrape oatmeal up off your kitchen floor. Somedays you wonder if your kids will really ever love one another. Somedays you wonder why you didn't move to Colorado and work in a coffee house.
But somedays, you get a day full of grace. Somedays you sit really still, knowing that if you breathe or try to sneak an Oreo, the whole bubble will burst.
Today I'll be sitting here, holding my breath, thankful for the two rascals I get to call mine.
One of my real life, grown-up bowls that I picked out before I got married. One of the bowls that I can no longer find because dish companies like to make ladies lose their minds. And buy whole new sets of dishes, but can anybody really do that?
I did not yell. Or freak out. Because the child who dropped it? They knew. And they were really, very sorry for what happened. When I feel like someone really understands why I'm upset, I really am very mild in my reactions. There's a whole treasure trove there just waiting for some professional to dig into!
Saturday is my one and only true day off. Because I work on Sundays and have to be at work at the ever lovin' crack of dawn, Saturday is my only day that I'm not running the gauntlet. Except, by the nature of life, sometimes Saturdays have their own gauntlet. Activities and what not that require I leave the house and be dressed presentable. Ish.
By the time the Broncos got drilled in the Super Bowl last night, I was ready for a weekend do-over. Just one more day. I needed just one more day. And by some miracle I got it! There was an impending millimeter of ice forecast, so school was cancelled! BONUS DAY!
And, people, it has not disappointed. My kids have played together the entire day. No fighting, no tattling, no exasperation. I have had the pleasure of sitting and listening to them play while I manage to be productive. Ish. Earlier today we had our very own NBA draft. I overhead Drew giving an "interview" before he was drafted. I couldn't hear everything he said, but I for sure heard him say, "Oh yes, I was born ready." ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? And then he proceeded to call out the top ten draft picks complete with made up names and the universities they attended. I'm so glad he didn't know I was listening. It was the most entertainment I've had in days!!
Later, Emily came downstairs carrying a few pairs of her shoes. She put them in the shoe basket and told me she was playing shoe store upstairs. A few minutes went by and she called me upstairs. She had actually been cleaning her room. She was thrilled with herself that she had played a trick on me!
I'm really not trying to brag. This does not happen everyday. Or even close. Somedays your good bowls get broken and you scrape oatmeal up off your kitchen floor. Somedays you wonder if your kids will really ever love one another. Somedays you wonder why you didn't move to Colorado and work in a coffee house.
But somedays, you get a day full of grace. Somedays you sit really still, knowing that if you breathe or try to sneak an Oreo, the whole bubble will burst.
Today I'll be sitting here, holding my breath, thankful for the two rascals I get to call mine.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
The Art of the Matter
Y'all.
I have been rendered useless by Polar Vortex II. Not only is it ridiculously cold, but apparently Nashville is under some sort of snow repellent force field. If it's going to be this freaking cold, I'd at least like to go sledding.
I went to visit a friend yesterday that I haven't seen in far too long. You would think the occasion would call for real pants. Nope. I sent her a text that said, "I'm dressed like a hobo" because I was. I was also wearing the same fleece jacket for about the twelfth day in a row. I am so tired of FREEZING.
I think my children might be suffering from a touch of the SAD as well. Especially Drew. I think the fact that he has been able to play outside two days out of the last, like, 20 is starting to make him moody. He said these actual words today as he stomped off in a huff, "Nobody even cares about my life!" Sun? Please come back? And not just your faker self who looks shiny but emits no heat. I mean real, burn your skin potential sun. ASAP.
When Drew is not suffering from SAD, he does a remarkable job at handling life. Especially for a kid who is highly sensitive. Life comes at him through his senses at 100 miles per hour all day, everyday. This was really tough when he was younger, but he has learned a lot of good coping skills and is a champ at taking things in stride. I'm SUPER proud of him.
But sometimes, as we all do, he has days when things just seem too big. And one of his major hates in life is art class. I know. Is that not the saddest thing ever? Who, at seven years old, hates art class? I'll tell you who. Seven year olds with art teachers who are too intense for their own good.
Drew had this same art teacher last year, and many tears were shed. When I talked to his kindergarten teacher about it I said, "Seriously?? Shouldn't kindergarten art class be the happiest place on earth??" Don't worry. She totally gets me. I can say things like this to her. I never talked to the art teacher about it, because, frankly, I'm not really a talk to the teacher kind of mom. I'm still trying to decide where the line is on that. My mom was very much of the camp where she tried to help us see how we could persevere in the situation. I can't remember a single time that she contacted a teacher when we cried foul.
Lately, Drew has been a stressed out mess about art. ART. In FIRST GRADE. I mean, I can't even. So, every Tuesday he dreads school. We have started praying about art on Monday night and Tuesday morning. Yesterday, we prayed on the way to school. I prayed that the teacher would be in a happy mood. Apparently, he's a yeller. When I finished Drew said, "Why did you pray he would be in a happy mood?" I said, "Well, maybe if he's in a happy mood he won't yell." To which Drew said, "Well that will never happen." Optimism runs in the family.
I took the moment to tell him that you never know what God might do. I think he was skeptical.
So, yesterday afternoon when he got in the car I said, "Sooo, how was your day?" He smiled huge and said, "GREAT!" Well. I did not see that coming. "How was art?" I asked, tentatively. He laughed (!) and said, "We had a sub!! And she passed out candy!"
Sometimes we ask God to do something we don't really believe He'll do. And sometimes He doesn't do it.
Sometimes He does immeasurably more that we've asked.
I have been rendered useless by Polar Vortex II. Not only is it ridiculously cold, but apparently Nashville is under some sort of snow repellent force field. If it's going to be this freaking cold, I'd at least like to go sledding.
I went to visit a friend yesterday that I haven't seen in far too long. You would think the occasion would call for real pants. Nope. I sent her a text that said, "I'm dressed like a hobo" because I was. I was also wearing the same fleece jacket for about the twelfth day in a row. I am so tired of FREEZING.
I think my children might be suffering from a touch of the SAD as well. Especially Drew. I think the fact that he has been able to play outside two days out of the last, like, 20 is starting to make him moody. He said these actual words today as he stomped off in a huff, "Nobody even cares about my life!" Sun? Please come back? And not just your faker self who looks shiny but emits no heat. I mean real, burn your skin potential sun. ASAP.
When Drew is not suffering from SAD, he does a remarkable job at handling life. Especially for a kid who is highly sensitive. Life comes at him through his senses at 100 miles per hour all day, everyday. This was really tough when he was younger, but he has learned a lot of good coping skills and is a champ at taking things in stride. I'm SUPER proud of him.
But sometimes, as we all do, he has days when things just seem too big. And one of his major hates in life is art class. I know. Is that not the saddest thing ever? Who, at seven years old, hates art class? I'll tell you who. Seven year olds with art teachers who are too intense for their own good.
Drew had this same art teacher last year, and many tears were shed. When I talked to his kindergarten teacher about it I said, "Seriously?? Shouldn't kindergarten art class be the happiest place on earth??" Don't worry. She totally gets me. I can say things like this to her. I never talked to the art teacher about it, because, frankly, I'm not really a talk to the teacher kind of mom. I'm still trying to decide where the line is on that. My mom was very much of the camp where she tried to help us see how we could persevere in the situation. I can't remember a single time that she contacted a teacher when we cried foul.
Lately, Drew has been a stressed out mess about art. ART. In FIRST GRADE. I mean, I can't even. So, every Tuesday he dreads school. We have started praying about art on Monday night and Tuesday morning. Yesterday, we prayed on the way to school. I prayed that the teacher would be in a happy mood. Apparently, he's a yeller. When I finished Drew said, "Why did you pray he would be in a happy mood?" I said, "Well, maybe if he's in a happy mood he won't yell." To which Drew said, "Well that will never happen." Optimism runs in the family.
I took the moment to tell him that you never know what God might do. I think he was skeptical.
So, yesterday afternoon when he got in the car I said, "Sooo, how was your day?" He smiled huge and said, "GREAT!" Well. I did not see that coming. "How was art?" I asked, tentatively. He laughed (!) and said, "We had a sub!! And she passed out candy!"
Sometimes we ask God to do something we don't really believe He'll do. And sometimes He doesn't do it.
Sometimes He does immeasurably more that we've asked.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Too Bad About Mondays
Remember my prediction about grumpy, frumpy troll? Yep. She totally showed up today. Don't you worry though. I took good care of her. Every now and then I will have a Monday that finds both my kids in school and me with no pressing under-employment obligations. Today was such a day. I did a total of zero things unless you count sitting on the couch reading and catching up on my programs a thing. My programs. Like I'm 85.
I'm not gonna lie. It was delightful.
I feel like TV went through a slump there for a while. A time when the shows I liked got stale and nothing new was really any good. I feel like, now though? There's been some kind of good TV renaissance. And we mostly have the British to thank. Is anyone else completely obsessed with British shows of all kinds? I cannot resist. Here's some of what I'm watching these days:
Downton Abbey-I mean, do I even really have to say this? Of course I am watching, because it is the best show on TV. As I watched today I tried to figure out why I think it's best. I think because it's kind a slow moving show, and it lulls you into thinking things are just flitting along and then BAM someone dies, or cheats, or drops the quipiest, best character line ever in a show. And, it's about a time period that no other show is really about. And the characters. Seriously? I would say you can't make that stuff up, except THEY TOTALLY DID.
Sherlock-Are you watching this??? Because, it is also a British delight. I think it is a smart show that will leave you completely in the dust if you are not REALLY paying attention. Let's say you are, hypothetically, cruising Pinterest or playing a game while you watch. You're gonna need to rewind. If you don't give it your 100% un-pinterested attention, you're not going to know what in the bollocks is going on. (That's a British word. Who says TV isn't educational. I'm practically bilingual.)
Call the Midwife-Did I tell you I binge on British TV?? This show is also pure gold. I was a little concerned I wouldn't love it because it's about birthing babies. I can remember before having kids how much I loved shows like "A Baby Story". Somehow, though, when you've actually DONE it, you don't really care to watch anybody else do it. Just me? Anyway, there is birthing in this show, but somehow it doesn't take center stage. The characters are great and the show is HILARIOUS. You don't see it coming, do you? No show with midwife in the title screams funny. But this one totally is.
Doctor Who-This show is not currently on, much to the hurt of my heart. This show crept up on me. I am not a sci-fi person at.all. My sister started telling me about this show, and she is much cooler and hip to the scene than I am. I did not anticipate liking the show. I mean, it has crudely designed robots that repeat "Ex-ter-min-ate" in an old-school robot voice. Why would I like that? You know what else I didn't anticipate? Becoming so attached to each Doctor that I CRY buckets of tears at least every other episode. And when the Doctor becomes a new Doctor I go through the seven stages of grief before I can even like the new Doctor, whom I will later mourn with more buckets of tears. If you have steered clear of this one, you should get on Netflix (and set a side a good chunk of time) and watch it. Don't say I didn't warn you!
Parenthood-GUH. All.the.emotions. That is all I can say about it. Except one more thing. I LOVE how the characters on this show have evolved. Good, good, good.
Black List-This is the newest show on the list. I watched one episode and I was FREAKING OUT in the best way possible. In the past I have not been a fan of James Spader at all. In general, I hate every character he's ever played. But this one? I love him. And he makes me a nervous wreck. And I feel sure I can't trust him. But I love him. And that's just the one character!! I have pulled Big Dan in on this one. We are a few episodes behind, but I know when we finally binge and get caught up there will be a lot of me saying, "Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh! OH.MY.GOSH!!" I'm a delight to watch TV with.
So, this Monday has been a day of sloth. You can be sure the piper will be paid in some scramble later this week. I'll leave you with a quote from Emily to end your day.
The scene: Emily is sitting on Big Dan's lap when he gets home from work. They are talking and he is tickling her. It gets quiet for a minute. She cuts her eyes at him and says menacingly, "I've been telling my friends about you."
#tinygangster
I'm not gonna lie. It was delightful.
I feel like TV went through a slump there for a while. A time when the shows I liked got stale and nothing new was really any good. I feel like, now though? There's been some kind of good TV renaissance. And we mostly have the British to thank. Is anyone else completely obsessed with British shows of all kinds? I cannot resist. Here's some of what I'm watching these days:
Downton Abbey-I mean, do I even really have to say this? Of course I am watching, because it is the best show on TV. As I watched today I tried to figure out why I think it's best. I think because it's kind a slow moving show, and it lulls you into thinking things are just flitting along and then BAM someone dies, or cheats, or drops the quipiest, best character line ever in a show. And, it's about a time period that no other show is really about. And the characters. Seriously? I would say you can't make that stuff up, except THEY TOTALLY DID.
Sherlock-Are you watching this??? Because, it is also a British delight. I think it is a smart show that will leave you completely in the dust if you are not REALLY paying attention. Let's say you are, hypothetically, cruising Pinterest or playing a game while you watch. You're gonna need to rewind. If you don't give it your 100% un-pinterested attention, you're not going to know what in the bollocks is going on. (That's a British word. Who says TV isn't educational. I'm practically bilingual.)
Call the Midwife-Did I tell you I binge on British TV?? This show is also pure gold. I was a little concerned I wouldn't love it because it's about birthing babies. I can remember before having kids how much I loved shows like "A Baby Story". Somehow, though, when you've actually DONE it, you don't really care to watch anybody else do it. Just me? Anyway, there is birthing in this show, but somehow it doesn't take center stage. The characters are great and the show is HILARIOUS. You don't see it coming, do you? No show with midwife in the title screams funny. But this one totally is.
Doctor Who-This show is not currently on, much to the hurt of my heart. This show crept up on me. I am not a sci-fi person at.all. My sister started telling me about this show, and she is much cooler and hip to the scene than I am. I did not anticipate liking the show. I mean, it has crudely designed robots that repeat "Ex-ter-min-ate" in an old-school robot voice. Why would I like that? You know what else I didn't anticipate? Becoming so attached to each Doctor that I CRY buckets of tears at least every other episode. And when the Doctor becomes a new Doctor I go through the seven stages of grief before I can even like the new Doctor, whom I will later mourn with more buckets of tears. If you have steered clear of this one, you should get on Netflix (and set a side a good chunk of time) and watch it. Don't say I didn't warn you!
Parenthood-GUH. All.the.emotions. That is all I can say about it. Except one more thing. I LOVE how the characters on this show have evolved. Good, good, good.
Black List-This is the newest show on the list. I watched one episode and I was FREAKING OUT in the best way possible. In the past I have not been a fan of James Spader at all. In general, I hate every character he's ever played. But this one? I love him. And he makes me a nervous wreck. And I feel sure I can't trust him. But I love him. And that's just the one character!! I have pulled Big Dan in on this one. We are a few episodes behind, but I know when we finally binge and get caught up there will be a lot of me saying, "Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh! OH.MY.GOSH!!" I'm a delight to watch TV with.
So, this Monday has been a day of sloth. You can be sure the piper will be paid in some scramble later this week. I'll leave you with a quote from Emily to end your day.
The scene: Emily is sitting on Big Dan's lap when he gets home from work. They are talking and he is tickling her. It gets quiet for a minute. She cuts her eyes at him and says menacingly, "I've been telling my friends about you."
#tinygangster
Sunday, January 26, 2014
The Day Spring Came Calling
My word.
At the risk of sounding 85, can we just take a minute to discuss the weather? Honestly, I have whiplash. Between polar vortexes and unseasonably warm days, I just can't keep up!
Today, the temperature was in the 60s. I wore my flip flops outside. My kids played in the actual out of doors and wore shorts! Tomorrow? Yeah, it's going to be 19 degrees at noon. NINETEEN. How in the real world is that even a little bit possible? I mean, it has to take more than 12 hours to cool down like 41 degrees, right?
Basically it boils down to happy, optimistic, productive today; grumpy, frumpy troll tomorrow. I just want to bury myself in soup and fuzzy socks.
I don't know if you know it, but my kids are hilarious. Well. They are hilarious to me. I'm not exactly sure what they are to others!
Yesterday in the car Drew was giving a talk on height. I say giving a talk because while he asks a lot of questions, I really don't have much to add to most of his topics. He knows A LOT of information about a wide variety of topics. He, like most boys, spends a large amount of time thinking about how tall he will be when he grows up. As he was discussing this topic he said, "I mean, how tall is Emily? Like 2'8"?" To which I said, "I have no idea..." Emily then said, "Yeah, but how tall am I in HIGH HEELS?" Dear divas everywhere-be afraid.
Drew is also SUPER obsessed with sports. Mostly football, but also any other sport. His random knowledge of sports facts has become a favorite party trick in the family. He talks a lot about being a professional athlete when he grows up. We talk about it all.the.time. Listen, I'm not a crusher of dreams. I tell him he can totally do it. Go for it. Work hard. Be smart. And then I tell him that if he always walks closely with God, God will show him what he was made to do. I guess he's been thinking about that because yesterday he said, "Mom. Do you think God wants me to be an NFL player or an NBA player?"
Good to know God has options.
At the risk of sounding 85, can we just take a minute to discuss the weather? Honestly, I have whiplash. Between polar vortexes and unseasonably warm days, I just can't keep up!
Today, the temperature was in the 60s. I wore my flip flops outside. My kids played in the actual out of doors and wore shorts! Tomorrow? Yeah, it's going to be 19 degrees at noon. NINETEEN. How in the real world is that even a little bit possible? I mean, it has to take more than 12 hours to cool down like 41 degrees, right?
Basically it boils down to happy, optimistic, productive today; grumpy, frumpy troll tomorrow. I just want to bury myself in soup and fuzzy socks.
I don't know if you know it, but my kids are hilarious. Well. They are hilarious to me. I'm not exactly sure what they are to others!
Yesterday in the car Drew was giving a talk on height. I say giving a talk because while he asks a lot of questions, I really don't have much to add to most of his topics. He knows A LOT of information about a wide variety of topics. He, like most boys, spends a large amount of time thinking about how tall he will be when he grows up. As he was discussing this topic he said, "I mean, how tall is Emily? Like 2'8"?" To which I said, "I have no idea..." Emily then said, "Yeah, but how tall am I in HIGH HEELS?" Dear divas everywhere-be afraid.
Drew is also SUPER obsessed with sports. Mostly football, but also any other sport. His random knowledge of sports facts has become a favorite party trick in the family. He talks a lot about being a professional athlete when he grows up. We talk about it all.the.time. Listen, I'm not a crusher of dreams. I tell him he can totally do it. Go for it. Work hard. Be smart. And then I tell him that if he always walks closely with God, God will show him what he was made to do. I guess he's been thinking about that because yesterday he said, "Mom. Do you think God wants me to be an NFL player or an NBA player?"
Good to know God has options.
Friday, January 24, 2014
Ugly stools
In case you're worried this is a post about poop, it's not. I think those days, thankfully, are behind me!
This post is about a barstool.
Right now, I'm on a hiatus from Facebook, the reasons are not overly spiritual and have nothing to do with how my heart is affected by Facebook. The reason is solely based on the fact that Facebook, for me, is giant, sucking time vortex. Because I'm the world's nosiest person. Ever. So, me and the FB are on a break.
I have not taken a break from Twitter however, because it is not a time suck for me. So, the other day I was rummaging around Twitter and a pastor I love put up a link to a post his wife wrote. I have a soft spot for a pastor's wife, so I clicked the link and started reading the article.
Basically, the article was about how this woman had a stool in her kitchen-an ugly stool-and it had sort of just stayed in the kitchen because she didn't really notice it anymore. She had not meant for it to stay, but she got used to it being there and stopped noticing. She made a big point about how ugly the stool was. And then she went on to talk about how often times we have things in our life that are ugly, but we sort of stop noticing them. It implored us to get rid of those ugly things. The next thing that came up when you scrolled down the page was a picture of the ugly stool.
IT IS EXACTLY LIKE THE STOOLS I HAVE IN MY KITCHEN.
I am the proud owner of not one, but TWO ugly stools!!!
Well. As you might imagine this brought up all sort of feelings in me. Knowing that I was the owner of two stools that had been used in an illustration about SIN ISSUES is likely to stir some emotions. Seeing this made me feel a few different things.
First, I want to throw a comment grenade into her comment section. I wanted to say in all caps I HAVE THAT STOOL. TWO OF THEM. Then I thought I might leave a scripture reference about the shallowness of material things. And a Jesus juke. (Do you know what a Jesus juke is? If not, you need to be reading more Stuff Christians Like.)
Second, I wanted to call Daniel right away and demand we go stool shopping that.very.night. No one wants to be the owners of the stools of sin. A little less funny is the feelings of shame I felt about my stools. My face got red! I mean, if that doesn't point to some issues I don't know what does.
I didn't do either of those things. Instead I just sat in the middle of how it all made me feel, had a couple of good laughs, and walked away thinking I might need to do some digging about why it made me feel that way.
In case there was any question there will no interior design posts coming soon. Clearly it's not my gift. Too bad you can't decorate your house with sarcasm.
This post is about a barstool.
Right now, I'm on a hiatus from Facebook, the reasons are not overly spiritual and have nothing to do with how my heart is affected by Facebook. The reason is solely based on the fact that Facebook, for me, is giant, sucking time vortex. Because I'm the world's nosiest person. Ever. So, me and the FB are on a break.
I have not taken a break from Twitter however, because it is not a time suck for me. So, the other day I was rummaging around Twitter and a pastor I love put up a link to a post his wife wrote. I have a soft spot for a pastor's wife, so I clicked the link and started reading the article.
Basically, the article was about how this woman had a stool in her kitchen-an ugly stool-and it had sort of just stayed in the kitchen because she didn't really notice it anymore. She had not meant for it to stay, but she got used to it being there and stopped noticing. She made a big point about how ugly the stool was. And then she went on to talk about how often times we have things in our life that are ugly, but we sort of stop noticing them. It implored us to get rid of those ugly things. The next thing that came up when you scrolled down the page was a picture of the ugly stool.
IT IS EXACTLY LIKE THE STOOLS I HAVE IN MY KITCHEN.
I am the proud owner of not one, but TWO ugly stools!!!
Well. As you might imagine this brought up all sort of feelings in me. Knowing that I was the owner of two stools that had been used in an illustration about SIN ISSUES is likely to stir some emotions. Seeing this made me feel a few different things.
First, I want to throw a comment grenade into her comment section. I wanted to say in all caps I HAVE THAT STOOL. TWO OF THEM. Then I thought I might leave a scripture reference about the shallowness of material things. And a Jesus juke. (Do you know what a Jesus juke is? If not, you need to be reading more Stuff Christians Like.)
Second, I wanted to call Daniel right away and demand we go stool shopping that.very.night. No one wants to be the owners of the stools of sin. A little less funny is the feelings of shame I felt about my stools. My face got red! I mean, if that doesn't point to some issues I don't know what does.
I didn't do either of those things. Instead I just sat in the middle of how it all made me feel, had a couple of good laughs, and walked away thinking I might need to do some digging about why it made me feel that way.
In case there was any question there will no interior design posts coming soon. Clearly it's not my gift. Too bad you can't decorate your house with sarcasm.
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