Why my hubby is no longer allowed to use the camera

It's recently been brought to my attention the reason why there aren't many pictures of me on this here family blog. Allow me to explain.

The other night, while the girls and I were decorating the tree, my husband grabbed the camera to take some pictures. Aww!!! How sweet. He's going to document, for the generations to come, that I actually DID exist. Nice.

And so the girls and I set out to transform our barren tree into something that closely resembles Hallmark...thrown up. All the while, trying to appear normal and not overly posed.

Well. The verdict is in. Either my "normal position" is to avoid putting my best face forward OR the photographer's definition of a good picture of me is a little...uh, skewed.


Exhibit A: Here we have a cute, albeit it fuzzy, picture of Charis. And me... sort of.

But hey, what's one booty shot, right? I'll cut him some slack since surely there's got to be a better one of me in there! Afterall, he was taking pictures the entire time we decorated the tree.

*biting my tongue*

Lets just move on to Exhibit B. Shall we?

So...at least here I'm standing in the upright position. That's a marked improvement, eh? But still. You have to wonder. Does he realize that I have a front side? A face? And a smile?

Moving on. Exhibit C...

And before you see it, I just have one word to say: Unbelievable.

I thought, until viewing the following picture, that the others were flukes. You know, sort of giving him the benefit of the doubt and all. Assuming that he was focusing on the "bigger picture" and, by coincidence, I just happened to be facing the other direction. It happens, right?

But...and I'll think you'd agree...THIS picture just shares a different story.

Um. Seriously?

Yeah. 'Nough said. I'll just let "exhibit C" speak for itself. *awkward pause* ...Right. Moving on.

But being the doting wife that I am, I still tried to justify all of the above ones (and the ones that I didn't even post!!) by assuming that he was focusing on the girls. Trying to get a good picture of THEM and completely missing the fact that my face was distinctly absent from view.

But (no pun intended hee hee)...

Even that reasoning didn't fly. Because here I am. All alone. Yep, that's right! Just me and my booty. Does that girl even HAVE a face?!!

So. To sum up. The reason why my blog lacks pictures of me? Because my personal photographer apparently has a "thing" for my backside. ;)

Maybe I should invest in a camera with a timer? Or remote control maybe? Cause I'm thinking the photographer, warped-picture-taking-skills and all, is still a keeper. Even if 90% of these pictures are not.

Be An Elf

Did you know that SOMEONE in your area post office reads the letters to Santa and makes them available to the public?! I had no idea. None. Until now.

You can read through the letters. Pick one. And be Santa (aka. Jesus) to that child-in-need.

For some reason, Blogger is "iffy" about displaying the video on my blogsite. Sometimes it there...sometimes it's the html. Sorry.

Share the brilliance...

I was surprised when other people said that they knew about the garlic oil and breastmilk squirt-fest remedies. Here I thought I ran in Circles of Brilliance. But apparently other people are enlightened as well. Shocking.

In fact, when I read that JavaMamma and CampGirdwood knew about said remedies and didn't have them highlighted in purple on their websites for all to benefit from, I was a little taken-a-back. WHAT? They knew how to help my daughter's ears without paying an arm-and-a-leg for antibiotics? And they DIDN'T tell me?!! The nerve of it all. *grin/wink*

But then I remember that my own informative little blog site didn't have the eye infection remedy posted for all to see either. Opps.

Obviously I'm kidding. We ALL have stored away different nuggets of information, but just don't think to share them. So here's the deal. I'm going to write down all the random tips that I can currently think of (the ones that I've tried and know work). And I'm asking you to do the same. In "Comments" share all the random bits of information that would benefit other ladies. We'll share our brilliance.

I know most of you just read and don't comment. And that's completely fine. But if you do have any jewels of brilliance to share...please do!

And Crystal. I expect you to add the thing you told me about the yeast infection. (she's a midwife in training, who gets to hang out with all sorts of people with a wealth of natural healing remedies). She's who I call when anything happens in my life. And the one that told me about the breastmilk in the eye trick.

Pregnancy Nausea? Take 1/2 Unisom and B12 (my nurse told me this one. and I had HORRIBLE sickness with the first pregnancies)

Infant diaper rash and raw skin due to diarrhea? Use Aquafor and Maalox directly on skin. the Maalox balances out the acidic PH of diarrhea and the Aquafor seals the medicine to the skin. The rash clears up within a day.

Stains that won't come out of clothes and no StainStick? Dawn Dish Detergent takes EVERYTHING out. Even blood. My dad swears by this. And trust me, it works. Just scrub into stain before washing.

Sudden face breakout (acne) and need to get rid of it fast? Put white toothpaste on it. It'll dry it out FAST.

Cracked, dry feet? Put Eucerin (is at Walmart) on at night and cover with socks. It works great! My heels get really dry in the winter and can crack. But this stuff heals it up in a night.

Made cookies? put a piece of bread in the container with them. The bread will keep the cookies from getting hard.

I have not tried these, but they were too interesting not to share:

*Keep apples and bananas from turning brown by placing them on a plate containing a small amount of a lemon-lime soft drink.

*Breast Milk KILLS existing, live Cancer cells!!
Swedish study done and now funded by the American Cancer Society. From what I've read (there's a ton about it), the scientific community is leery to publicize it yet. One of the reasons I read, being that they don't want the milk banks for Preemies to be depleted. But anyway...I thought the study was amazing and wanted to share.

Sleepless nights and Garlic drops...

The last couple nights have been rough. Raegan hasn't been sleeping well. Meaning, WE haven't been sleeping well. I feel like a walking zombie.

In the past few months, she's had at least two ear infections...I was thinking she was getting another one. Thus, the no sleeping theme: You lay her down, she screams out in panicked pain. :(

It's times like these that I don't mind that she reneged on saying my name. All night long, she could be heard crying "DaDa! DaDa!"

Yep, that's right, honey. She's calling for YOU. Go to her, will ya? heh heh




Coincidentally, a few people suggested that we put Garlic Drops in her ears. (can be found at health food stores) And though she smells of Italian bread gone awry, it's helping!!! IE. she's sleeping! So...got a child with ear infections?...you may want to try it!

And since we're on the whole "natural" medicine thing...Got a baby with an eye infection? When you're nursing her, squirt some breast-milk in her eye. I'm not kidding! It clears up the infection in NO time!

And NO, I'm not a hippy-chick. I just happen to have some highly intelligent friends. :)

All Grown up

It happened. My little girl went and grew up. And dubbed herself ready to get her ears "punched." No. I do not speak of boxing rings. I am referring to EARrings.

Now, I'm not sure that I would have chosen to let her get her ears pierced this early. But I know my girl. She hates any and all things painful. So if she feels ready, I'm ready.

And I figure...I want to let her make all the decisions that she can at this age. Build her self-esteem. Let her try out her independence here and there. Show her that I trust her judgement.

So when she announced that she was ready for earrings, I didn't argue. I just said, "Okay. One day soon."

"One day" happened Saturday. By fluke. We happened to be at the mall to cash in our "free pretzel coupons" at Auntie Anne's. (Auntie Anne is Jet's cousin) And as we made our way to eat, we walked by it. The Ear-Piercing Counter.

Providence was lining up all the details. There were TWO earpiercing ladies there (so both ears could be done at the same time), which they said was rare. AND there happened to be another little girl getting her ears done! ...I haven't seen anyone sitting in that chair for years! It couldn't have been more perfect.

Charis stood there, fascinated. wide-eyed. intent on the girl's face as they put the earrings in. The girl winced, but nothing more. The mom was crying, but not the little girl. :)

"Mom. I want to do it too! Can I?" Charis was determined.

"Are you sure?"

"YES!"

I look at Jet. He shrugs and says "Why not?"

And so our little girl sat in the big chair. Brave and confident in her decision. Waiting while they cleaned her ears and drew the blue dots.
They told her that they'd count to three. "1. 2. 3...." CLICK. She grimaced a little and then smiled. A lot.
The crowd went wild. Literally. 12 people clapped and cheered for her as she sat on the chair, grinning from pierced ear to ear. You can tell she feels all grown up!! I was too busy clapping to get a picture.
She told Selah, as her voice went up 3 octaves, that it only hurt a "itty bitty bitty bit". ;)


I can't believe the little girl who cried last year when I asked her if she wanted to ever get her ears pierced, now has her ears "punched"! She's grown up soo much in the last month. (2/3 of an inch in height AND leaps and bounds in her level of maturity)!!

If the next 5 years go as fast as the last 5 years, all of my girls will be grown up before I know it!

With thanks to a friend...

I HAD to post this.

In the last entry, I ended the blog by saying that I WANTED to attempt to get a picture of all three girls AND our large doberman, but that I was intimately aware of my limitations. :)

Well...apparently my friend, Nell-Marie, has no limitations. She was able to man-handle my brood into submission. And even shrunk my beast of a dog down to a manageable size....

...with Photoshop. ;)

Thanks, girl! Jet and I laughed hard. For. A. Long. Time.

The unspoken law of Christmas Photos...

Go ahead. Take a picture of one child. An it will, inevitably, turn out great.

Ah, isn't that a winner?! There is a genuine smile. Eyes are focused at the camera. Dresses are down. Underwear is hidden. Hands are controlled.Even the youngest one adheres to the Unspoken Law of when sitting alone, one must smile pretty. Sit up straight. Make eyes at the goofy lady behind the camera.

Then I got daring. I figured, these are an obvious success. So I'll go ahead and add one more child into the mix...

Okay, so maybe one isn't looking at the camera, but at least she's pleasantly smiling. They look genuinely pleased to be having their picture taken, don't they? Cooperation seems to come so naturally.

But then...add the third child. Go ahead. Try it. Something combusts. Panic breaks out. Chaos ensues.

Can someone tell me why this is?! Maybe because I was the lone adult on the scene? Hmm...could this have been my downfall?

BUT Finally...after taking at least 80 more pictures filled with stray arms, exposed bottoms, and wandering eyes, I got this one.

Aren't they cute? :)

I would have tried to get the doberman decked in reindeer antlers sitting beside them, but...I am well aware of my limits... and large dog with nails-needing-to-be-trimmed, delicate Christmas dresses, and lone parent holding camera far exceed them. Wouldn't you agree? ;)

The Dead Raised...

This is a testimony from an old YWAM friend, Lubens. Because my computer is in the process of being rebuilt, I can't scan in a picture of him. Do you ywam-blogger-friends remember him?

I'm going to set the stage before using his words....

Lubens, a Native Haitian, was leading a SST (Season of Service and Training...a ywam summer "camp"geared towards middle- and high-schoolers) to Jacmel, Haiti. The first morning they were in Jacmel, a man came to Lubens asking him for help.

The man was a witch doctor.

His wife was extremely sick, having been cursed by another witch doctor. This man had done everything he could...seen all sorts of doctors, spent all of his money. But nothing worked. Feeling great shame that he could not heal his own wife, he left his town to move to the town of Jacmel.

And now, he was asking Lubens to drive him to the hospital. But Lubens felt the Lord tell him "No." Not understanding, Lubens could only obey. An hour later, the man came back. "My wife is worse. You are the only people in the village with a vehicle, can you please help me?" Lubens desperately wanted to help the man, but the Lord, again, said a resounding "NO."

In Luben's words (via a newsletter):

Later that morning, the students were scheduled to go into the neighborhoods to pray and give out Bibles. One particular group of students entered a house where they found a woman who they thought was "merely sleeping." She looked very sick so they began to pray for her healing so that she would be able to know God.

Never noticing that she wasn't breathing.

As they prayed, she opened her eyes and the students began to share with her the love God has for her. And she chose, in that moment, to receive God has her Savior. While they were talking and praying for her, her husband had returned home and stood behind the door just watching...

The students left and returned to share with us what they thought had happened: That they had prayed for a sick woman and God healed her. They proceeded to explain that they had invited the couple to the church service that evening.

That night the husband came, wanting to share with the students what had really happened. ...and I (Lubens) was amazed to see that it was the same man that asked me for a ride that morning!! The ride that the Lord had clearly said for me not to give. The man began to share:

"When I saw the three of you teenagers praying for people across the street from my house, I didn't realize that you could do something like 'this'. When you reached my house, I called to tell you not to enter. But I guess you didn't hear me.

When you entered, there was a forth person who followed behind you. He was very tall and had wings. And light just flowed all over him. I couldn't get my mind straight and for a moment thought that he was one of the spirits that I used to worship. But then I just knew that there was something different about him.

As you were praying, he stood watching. And when one of you asked God to give my wife another chance, he looked at me. Then walking to my wife lying on the bed, he touched her and she opened her eyes.

When I saw that , I wasn't sure if I was happy or scared. I just feel dumb with shock as I watched you talk and pray with her. I just couldn't believe that she was alive again."

All of us listening were shocked ourselves, as we had thought she was only sick. And here he was saying that she had died HOURS before the students had come to his house. In fact, he had been out looking for people to help carry her to the morgue.

One of the students (a 15 year old) summed it up when he said "If I had had any idea that she was dead, I never would have entered the house. But God used us anyway!!"

Lubens goes on to say:
Many times it hurts when we need to turn someone away because God said to do so. But what we need to know is that our little wisdom is not the same as our Father's. He has the big picture. And it is only He who sees all things and knows best how to order our steps. Jesus knew that by doing God's will it would be the best for everyone.

In John 11:4 when Jesus heard about Lazarus's illness, his response was: "This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory, that God's Son may be glorified through it."

Lazarus died and four days later, Jesus raised him from the dead. Verse 40 caught my attention when Jesus said, "Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?"

The degree that we believe God is the degree we will see His glory through our lives."

.......

The story goes on. But I just wanted to share that part because it impacted me greatly. You read stories like this in the Bible, but rarely get to hear them from a friend. And the fact that God used these young people...teens were just wanting to pray that someone receive an understanding of the love of God...blesses my heart to no end.

Lord, may we all have that innocent trust in You to show your love in dark places. We don't need to always understand the details...we just need to embrace the fact that You love. And you've called us to, simply, share that love.

...even to the witch doctors.

Little by little, understanding breaks forth

My computer has been on the fritz (as you can see by my blog heading that I'm still trying to rectify). Hubby just took the entire thing apart...unscrewed the whole thing. Piece by piece. And voila! Computer fixed.

For now :)

Today has been a rough one. That, I cannot deny. And just now, as I sat here watching Jet dismantle the computer, I began to wonder...what the heck is he doing?!!

*wink* Okay. So that's not all I wondered.

...This thought, too, crossed my mind:

Is today's emotional onslaught tied, at all, to the vision God allowed me to see last night?

(refer to previous post)

Could these raging ups and downs that I've been battling be at all tied to the fact that, in the Spirit, God released me of any and all baggage that I was carrying? (which by the way, I have to say Praise you, Jesus!) ...and in the process, ALSO stripped away any and all "masks" that I had on as well? leaving me truly feeling vunerable and weak?!!

Is that what I've been up against today!? The stripping of all the things that I've used, in the past, to hide behind? The resulting "nakedness," so to speak?

I really don't know...? As I honestly don't feel like I've been in hiding...covered in pretenses. (Though the Word does say that we don't even know our own hearts) But the whole thing is still very new in my heart; this half-formed revelation. But...it's coming.

Yet, the choice still remains. Do I dance before the Lord in JOY that I am weak...uncovered? Or do I hide, like Adam, in shame and attempt, once more, to cover up?

Lord, I do want to come before you uncovered...undone. So that your strength can be made Perfect....through my weakness. And though I'm yet to truly understand what all this means, I do know that I WANT to chose your strength over mine.

Funny to me that I've been saying for a long time that I felt like God was up to something. But somehow, in my ...was it pride?...thought it'd be a more glorious road. *laughing*

Anyway. There's MY heart on a platter, eh? Completely out there...for all to see. But just keeping it real, people. This journey that I'm on with the Father.

It may not always be glamorous, but it will always be worth it.

Stripped of all...and given a choice.

This is the closest thing to what I saw tonight. The rock faces were like these. Only steeper. Much, much steeper....

As I was worshipping tonight, I saw a vision.

I was rock climbing a 90-degree mountain side. Behind me, about 30 yards straight across, was another steep rock face. Between was a drop...so deep that there was no bottom. It just kept going.... into blackness.

And then from above me, my climbing partner reached down. To say his hand was large would be an understatement. I only saw the top of his head and his hand, as he turned back towards me. Holding a knife.

And then I saw it. A large black "bag" of sorts. Three times my size. On my back. Tied to me. I hadn't notice it, until he, in one swift movement, cut it from me.

At the exact moment that he sliced through the rope which bound me to the "bag", I saw that it was in the process of falling. It would have easily pulled me down with it.

But just at the moment that it was falling, his hand cut me loose.

And then I looked down. Apparently, as he cut the load from me, my outer garment came off as well. Leaving me, essentially, naked.

And then He spoke.

"Now you are left with a choice. Will you dance in freedom like David did (2 Samuel 6)? Or hide in shame like Adam?

For now, I have no words to add. I'm still processing...

The Nightly Chase of Love

These are my girls. The precious ones entrusted to me by God. to train. to guide. and most importantly, to love.

But how often do I focus on the training more than the loving? the leading and blazing the path ahead of them more often than just holding their hand to leisurely walk through the fallen leaves with them?

Have I forgotten to connect with them before I direct them? to establish a relationship before I establish rules?

Honestly, with my being at stay-at-home homeschooling mom, it can become so easy to focus on the discipline part of my parenting. Since it is their fighting, disobeying, and the like that is what demands attention. Rather loudly, at times.

You know the saying "it's the squeaky door that gets the oil"? It should go on to say "...and the dirty laundry, and the empty frig, and the sticky floor..." For I find it's the loud stuff that tends to get done.

But it is love that endures, right?! Yes, discipline and training have their very important place. But it's a balance, for they must be framed and covered in love. Rules obeyed because there is a foundation of love, not of fear. Because there is a relationship to enjoy, not retribution to avoid.

In the not-t00-distant past (read this to say "last week"), it's frustrated me that I, seemingly, was the "main disciplinarian" of the house. Something that occurred out of necessity because I am the one that is with them all day long. While Jet does discipline, he has but two precious hours with them before they go to bed at night. And he, of course, wants to use those hours wisely. So when Jet comes home, he plays.

Traditionally, the girls run and hide as soon as they hear Daddy's truck pull up. He walks in the door (after kissing me) and picks up Raegan and goes off in search of hidden treasures. Which happen to be half-hidden under the dining room table.

Then The Chase ensues.

Jet, with Raegan in tow, chases the older girls around the circular first floor of the house, screaming and laughing. The girls love it. They love playing and laughing and being silly...

And while this is happening, I get dinner ready. Finish cooking it. Setting the table. Dishing it up. I have things to do.

Or do I?

Would everything fall to pieces if I were to stop getting "things" done and jump in on the action too? Would we starve if dinner was set on the stove and served 30 minutes later? Would we fall apart if some clothes remained in the laundry basket for a couple more hours (or days)?

And if I were to do this...to procrastinate in the name of love and choose to put aside the stuff to do in exchange for being silly and playing...what would be the silent message spoken to my girls?

I know what it would be! That they are more important. That they are worth my time. That they are not just "the most important thing to me" in words, but in Deeds. In the way that they currently understand: time spent laughing and playing. precious, never-to-be-gotten back time spent building an authentic relationship with a 8 month old, 3 year old, and 5 year old.

Years from now, how will they remember they're time with me? that I taught them over and over and over again about sharing and picking up after themselves? Or that I was on the floor, first, helping to make the mess? reveling in the moment. laughing in the joy of play.

That I spent large amounts of time instructing them that what they just did was wrong and shouldn't happen again? Or that I spent time getting to know them? embracing their thoughts. their opinions. their inner personality. and sharing mine.

Lord, my focus needs to be shifted a bit. My heart has been like that of Martha in the Bible. Serving...getting things done that I think will bless...

But I want a heart like Mary's. One that desires just to sit on the floor, completely engrossed in getting to know these hidden treasures that you have entrusted to me. Treasures that aren't all that hidden underneath the dining room table.

Uh, could you read it again? This time with more...feeling.

"Who do you think you are?"

How do you read that question? Is it full of contempt? or full of sincerity?

For years, I studied acting. I loved it. I loved improv. I loved scripts. I loved drama, comedy, tragedy. I just loved theater.

One thing that strikes me about acting is that you can hand a script to three different people, ask them to read the same exact lines, and get three different reads. Some actors will stress the first part of the sentence. Some the second. One will add an accent. The other will add an attitude. Voice inflection. Timed pauses. Body language. Facial expression.

Every aspect adds a depth. a dimension that was not there before. The WAY that the sentence is read breaths life into it. It gives the black and white words a living personality.

So I ask again. How did you read that question? Do you stress the "you"? Do you read with a sneer? Or a smile?

I ask only because it's been said that both the Devil and the Lord are asking the Church the same question. That question. "Who do you think you are?"

One is an invitation. The other an accusation. It's the exact same sentence. But a very different heart intent.

And THIS is what strikes me about the Word. It's "just" a bunch of words on a page. Left up to US, the Believer, to read. So our voice becomes the representation of Christ's.

But how do I read it?

Or maybe I should ask...how do I picture Christ saying it? Do I imagine him glaring? seething? laughing? waiting to prove me wrong? waiting to embrace me? judge me? befriend me? ...How?!

Because the grid through which I read it is the way my heart interprets it. I mean, have you ever talked with someone that has rejection issues? They've been rejected over and over again. And because of this, they have come to expect it, you know? So regardless of what is said to them, they process it through a grid of rejection. Through a heart that interprets their being unacceptable. Make sense?

So what is MY "grid"? Do I have one? How do I think God wants to address me?

When I pray...and I try to imagine the eyes of the Father...what do I see? When I read the Word...and try to imagine the voice of the Father...what do I hear? An invitation or an accusation?

Lord, as I read Your Word...please break apart all "grids". Allow me to hear Your voice speak Life into the words. Read your "Script" over me...so I may be your Understudy. That I may adequately walk in your shoes. correctly act out your words. intimately mirror your cues.

Pick your battles

Not too long ago, the opportunity to pick our disciplining battles presented itself when Selah stated that she wasn't going to eat the food we had for dinner.

Now I admit, there have been times that I have not been in the mood for the illustrious Food Battle. So I, in my desire to not make everything an issue, gave them options. Oh, you don't want the 5 course meal that I've been preparing for 3 hours? Okay. No problem. What's that you say? Peanut butter and Jelly? Sure. Why not?

Alright, so it hasn't been that extreme on our part. But close enough.

Well...recently I decided that I'm done with this. The opinion that once stated food was not an important battle, changed. In part because the self-inflicted "hunger strike" became more and more commonplace at the 3 year old side of the table. *groan*

Thus, we came up with the following: If they don't eat what's for dinner...they can eat it tomorrow. Putting our mass mounds of tupperware to good use.

So...when Selah started the "I-don't-want-to-eat-this" routine not too long back...Jet and I were fully prepared. He laid down the law. Letting her know, very clearly, that if she didn't want to eat it now, that was fine. She wouldn't be getting any more food tonight. But she'd be eating this exact plate of food tomorrow. For lunch.

I sat there, silently taking it all in. Watching the sigh of relief on Selah's face at having been released from eating this food. All the while, knowing full well that she was only catching the "you don't have it eat it" part. And completely letting the "but you will tomorrow" part slide right. on. by.

I watched Jet talk the big talk of how, come tomorrow, the plate would revisit her. All the while, knowing full well that the next day at lunch, he would be sitting safely behind his office desk, while I would be the one dealing with the savage beast of "follow through".

Fast forward. It's lunch time. The next day.

The girls are happily running through the kitchen, laughing and playing some game. When I pull out last night's dinner plate from the frig. Selah stops. The laughter ceases. The smiles fade. And I am left there, in the sudden silence, holding the offending object. Rejected-dinner-turned-lunch.

I RE-explain what Jet recited at least four times last night. Selah burst into sobs, drowning out my somewhat-forced, albeit gentle reminder that she agreed to this last night when she chose to not eat dinner. All the while, wishing that my dear, sweet husband were here to partake of this touching moment, instead of being 20 miles away. Traitor.

Selah runs off to tell her sister the injustices of Mommy in a near-impossible-to-understand language. For her native tongue, orginating from the Whine Dialect, was put to action.

I don't remember much of the meal. I'm sure it consisted of much complaining, negotiations, and indegestion. But we survived.

And apparently got the point across. As NOW, when the girls don't want to eat something, they announce that it'll be lunch for tomorrow. And though the "food fights" haven't gone away...they have gotten much easier. For they know that they either go hungry...or eat it. No more Dinner-Take-Two options.

*Score One* for the parents, eh? And I'm thinking it'll come in handy when we take them to Africa for missions. :)

How do you "encourage" your children to eat their food?

For the love of his girls

Don't these people know that I am a DOBERMAN?!

A dog of noble blood?! A dog that strikes fear into the hearts of all who look upon me?!!

Hollywood knows this. My neighborhood knows this.

Why, in the name of all things sacred, don't these people?!

And now look at me.







Shamed. Scorned. Mocked.

Surrounded by little girls, armed with dress-up clothes. And no sense of canine respect.

Oh, the high heights from which I fall. All in the name of love.

Victory times Two

This is a picture of our tree...two years ago. But eh, who cares?...it's still the same tree, right? :) But the point is to say:Yes. The Christmas tree lights are back on and in working order. Hallelujah! (refer to last post)

Word to the wise. If you, too, own a pre-lit Christmas tree don't use the online helping service. They just refer you to their phone service. Odd way of helping in my line of thinking. "Hello, My job is to direct you to a different person. Have a nice day."

To which I have to say: Do not...I repeat DO NOT...call the listed help line. It's a waste of time and energy. Because they, nicely put, cannot help you.

Sure, they talk with you. Make you feel like you're being heard. like you've just begun a fabulous, understanding friendship. And then before you know what's happening, your new-found friend instructs you to cough up some money and order a new part.

Well, THAT friend comes right back off the Christmas card list. Imposter.

But you CAN call my husband. He fixed what they said couldn't be fixed without buying new lights. And he did it all without paying a dime. So, moral of the story?

You got tree issues? Contact my hub.

On a different note...

Tis the season to be baking, right?

Picture it. Multiple sticks of butter. Pounds of sugar. Egg yellows and salmanella viruses. And enough chocolate to choke a herd of elephants.

Ah, the weight of glory sits right there on my counter. In the form of holiday pounds-to-be.

Mocking me. Tempting me. Demanding that they be used. You know, since any and every ingredient closely resembling lard suddenly becomes of key importance when using holiday recipes.

Nice.

So today, as I prepared to bake with the girls, I scanned the internet in search of a healthier way to make Oatmeal Chocolate chip cookies. And I came across what sounded like two relatively good recipes, combined them, and set to work. We mixed. We rolled. We baked. We tasted.

Um. Not as good as my normal butter-laden cookies. These have applesauce. And part whole-wheat flour. Hmm. In theory, looks good on paper. But doesn't sound so appetizing.

Yet, the girls seem to like them! Maybe because their taste buds aren't as refined as my own?
ButI, in my practiced ability to make a decision and then regret it, was tempted to throw some good ol' fashion butter in to the batter. ...yet, I refrained.

And honestly, they aren't so bad! ...in fact, with the extra chocolate chips I put in, you can't really tell the difference. heh heh

What's that you said, dear?!

Growing up, my family had the wonderful tradition of Christmas tree hunting. My older brother and I would make bets on who would be the one to find that year's tree. Oh, the memories!!

But two years ago, my husband and I decided to nix that tradition...as lovely as it is...in lu of practicality. Where we took our family on a little jaunt to the Lowe's Christmas tree farm. In search of a tree of the boxed variety. The pre-lit boxed variety.

Uh-huh. An easy-to-assemble...one price...not-effected-by-drought Christmas tree. Sa-weet.

Except

Last year...right before we boxed up the green beastie...a few of the pre-lit limbs went dark. What? This was not part of the packaged Christmas we bought into!! No sir-ree! So we called up the help-line number. Busy. For an hour straight. Apparently a lot of other practical tree-loving people were not happy with the boxed spruce variety.

So, us, in all of our procrastination glory, decided to take care of it "next year". Funny how fast "next year" comes around, eh? So ...for the past few days, we've been dealing with the beast of not-so-pre-lit lights.

...Allow me to set the stage for you. Our house is cozy. I've been decorating all day. Christmas cheer is spread all around me. Carols play softly in the background. How quaint. When suddenly, my dear husband breaks the reverie and yells from the other room

Jet: "It's no wonder that Christmas trees are of a pagan tradition."

Me: Why?

Jet: "Christmas lights make me want to swear."

Huh. Now doesn't that just ooze of the Christmas spirit...joy, peace, expletives, and all that. ;) That man makes me laugh...

Over the river and through the woods...

...to Grandmama's house we go.



This past week has been crazy busy. Getting ready to go visit family. Helping my niece prepare to leave for a year-long trip. Driving long distances with the rest of the free world in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Eating an unnatural amount of food over and over again. Dealing with the upexpected killer trio of yeast infection, thrush, and my first monthly visitor since R. was born. Too much info? Yeah...for me too. *wink*

But such was the weekend. Fun yet...not. :) Here are some of the highlights.


Jet's youngest brother, Isaac, ran in a 5K race. Here "we" are waiting for the runners to pass us...
The front of the pack on their first loop.
Finally! Isaac was so fast that everytime he came around that I had a hard time getting a picture. On his last loop, I got it!

He finished the race inUNDER 20 minutes! That's a pace of less than 6-minute-miles! and he's only 15!!!! Give him a few years and he'll be kicking everybody's booty. Nah, I'm not proud or anything. ;)

And not to forget our special runner. Santa Claus. The girls went crazy when they saw him. And with his bowl full of jelly belly...he came in dead last. *grin*
the girls with Uncle Ikey.
BAREFEET in November! Thanksgiving Day was gor-ge-ous!
The girls are mesmerized... ...by the string quartet that was playing at the restaurant where Jet's mom is the head caterer/banquet manager. Uh-huh...We got connections in high places. Thanks Kathryn, for lunch. :)

So there you have it. A bit of what we've been up to during the Thanksgiving holidays. Can you even believed that it's already over?!!! I'm off to decorate my house for Christmas!!

I'm trading up

When I lost Asher (@4 mo. preg), this picture really ministered to me.

No, I don't think that my children are now angels. But just the thought of my baby being cradled when I was unable to filled me with peace. I stared at this picture. taped it to my computer. carried it around with me.

Now, over the past few years, I have lost three children to miscarriage. And there are times when I look at our family and feel like children are missing. So though I've yet to meet them this side of heaven, I love them. I miss them. And I feel, as a mother, almost incomplete without them... You need to know this before I can tell you a story.

Not too long back, I was walking on the treadmill when the Lord asked me a rather odd question. One that shook me to my very core.

"Would you trade your three daughters for the three children in heaven that you don't know?"

What?!

The thought so struck me that I started to cry on the spot. Because no, I'd never want to NOT have Charis, Selah, or Raegan. Knowing those three little girls is joy indescribable. They are precious in and out. Yet I DO desire to know and experience the personalities of my other three children.

For I love them. Seren. Jordan. Asher. At least the idea of them because I obviously don't know them in the way I know the three I've birthed and held. But regardless, they are mine. I carried them. I heard heartbeats. I felt kicks. I had dreams for each and every one of them. So they are very real in my heart...and in the realm of heaven.

But what if it had been Charis, Selah, and Raegan that I lost? I never would have known of their sweetness had I lost them instead. So what would life be like had things been different? On and on my thoughts raced as I silently processed this Random Question.

And truly, I have a hard time putting them into words. For, at the time, I had a hard time grasping them with my mind.

But I do remember that the Lord interrupted my thoughts and said, "Is your love for them (the "unknown" children) deep enough that you are willing to sacrifice that which you do know and love (my 3 girls)... so that you can experience your 'heavenly babies' instead?"

My heart broke because I couldn't bring myself to even form an answer. While I'm assuming that knowing the 'heavely babies' would be amazing, I can't make sense of giving up what I do know for something else. For something that only holds promise, but doesn't, at this time, manifest it.

And it became obvious to me that THAT was/is what He was asking me. The heart of it was not to ask if I was willing to swap children for children. But to open up my spirit in the deepest way possible...by inquiring of my love for my children...so that I coul better understand true sacrifice.

Essentially he was asking me:

Is my love for Him...for the unknown plans that He has in store for me... greater than the love I hold for the things that I do know? for my current circumstance's reality? AM I willing to sacrifice that which I know for that which He has planned in secret? Do I TRUST Him to fill my life with unimaginable blessings as I willingly surrender my life as I know it?

"He who loses his life will find it."

It's always been such a "normal" scripture to me. Sure. I lose my life. I die to self...to my desires...to my flesh in order to one day live in paradise with Him. But I think it's more than that. It's more than just ending up in heaven at the end of my life.

When the disciples asked God to teach them how to pray. He prayed this: Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Because He desires for us to live DEEP, RICH lives here on earth. In the NOW. And though I don't know the fullness of that reality YET, I do know that I love the IDEA of it.

So I have to ask myself: AM I holding too tightly to the things that I know? to the things that my limited knowledge understands? that my arms can physically embrace? and in the process missing out on getting to know the things that God has stored up for me in heaven? ...and is waiting to release here on earth?

I KNOW that God isn't asking me to give up my children, but rather to embrace His unknown for me.

I have to make that clear to anyone reading this. And I don't even know if this even made sense to anyone besides me. But I had to document it. Because in that moment, the Presence of God was so profound and so tangible that I know He was very serious about the question...about the heart issue behind it. And writing helps me to process...

Now, to embrace "losing my life"...trading what I know for what only He knows...so I may find *life* in Him.

Blogdom come to life

Random picture of me (pregnant with Asher 2 yrs. ago) in front of the carport that we *knocked down*. I post this in HOPES that we get snow soon!!!!

My computer still isn't working well...but I'm giving it a try. You know, typing and not seeing ANY words come up until 30 seconds later. About to drive me crazy, but eh, I figure I'm always up for a challenge. ;)

So here's a random snippet of my life right now:


I've been emailing back and forth with "one of you" guys in blogdom since August. You can identify yourself if you want to, but I didn't feel the liberty to without asking you.

It's been crazy!! In the best possible way, of course. *wink*

At first, I'd say we bonded because of our love of sarcasm. *At least that's the way I remember it* But we pretty quickly started to discuss the deeper things. Questions about why I believe in prophesy, a prayer language, spontaneous healings, etc. Disagreeing a little here and there...then finding common ground once more...talking it out on the phone...asking a booty load (wink) of questions and telling different personal stories...

AND I just have to say that I LOVE it. It's been one of the sweetest gifts AND suprises for me in blogdom. Your friendship.

I love that you feel comfortable asking, disagreeing, and asking again. Your heart to search out the Word...to not continue at the same place just because it's known and comfortable...encourages me. inspires me. excites me. I love our new-found friendship. I can't wait to see where God takes it.

And to see if what other friendships he surprises me with. :)

Stuck

*Computer freaking out. Takes forever to write....hopefully will get that fixed soon*

UPS finally came to my door

Here are two of my girls with Jolanthe's two.... I just don't like to post without some sort of pic. :)

Some of you have asked what homeschooling curriculum we've been using.... To which I have to say. None. Until now.

Because I, the totally inexperienced homeschooling mom, thought "It's only Kindergarten. Shoot! She's already reading a couple of years ahead of her age group. So all I have to focus on is math. And really, how hard can 1+1 be? I mean, come on! I aced advanced calculus. I got it covered."

Can't you just hear my clueness confidence? I mean, sure if I only had one child it'd be fine. (image me winking and giving you the thumbs up) I could spend my days writing impressively creative curriculum.

Well, okay so maybe in a world where I actually liked spending my time doing that. Alas, that world does NOT exist. AND I have three little girls, not one. Plus, a life outside of those little girlies. So free time, interest, and brainwaves have not been available...

And Kindergarten "Unstructured" has been killing me.

I found that our days have been sporatic. My need to "plan" takes up more time than the actual activity itself does. And I just feel all-together disorganized. Which, if you know me at all, you know that I thrive on organization. My brain functions to the extent that my house/life is organized. So yeah. De brain not be doing so good.

I've become an avid watcher of ebay, informing my husband that I was planning on spending an insane large amount of money to aid in this homeschooling thing that God has asked of us. In fact, I think the conversation went something like this "If I can't buy curriculum, then we are sending our girls to free public school because I can't keep doing it like this."

Yes. I, too, hear the tiniest thread of threat in that. Opps. Silly me.

BUT!! I've recently come across a curriculum that I think will be the best for us. Jolanthe's friend loaned her some information...I saw it...and voila! A curriculum that I really think will work well for us. AND the entire package cost $102. (minus the math and spanish that we're doing. I'm still determined that I can use a math workbook bought from Costco and a Spanish workbook bought from Wally-World.)

Geomatter's Galloping the Globe.

We've just started, but already I can tell I'm going to love it. It's a unit study that can be done in a year...OR stretched out to three years. I'm in the process of learning its ins and outs. Tweeking it to fit our girls, since some of it is WAY advanced in my opinion. But I figure we'll be working through it for at least three more years. I'm all for that! Save loads of money AND my sanity!

BUT I have to warn you...as I know that some of you are looking into it...the song CD that comes with it is PAINFUL to listen to. Painful, I say. My dear, laid-back husband even asked me to "turn the thing off!" So yeah...don't expect the CD to be something that you actually enjoy listening to. As I'm currently in the process of trying to sneak ours OUT of the CD changer....

So there you have it. We've officially invested in this homeschooling venture. And why homeschooling, you ask? As a few of you actually have asked. :)

We only do it for one reason and one reason alone. God has asked us to....right about the time that we had determined that we were not for it. :) And we'll take it year by year. Day by day.

I don't claim to be a "homeschooling family." Though I guess we are. We just desire to be an obedient one. And for now, that includes teaching my littles ones at home.

And thankfully that now includes a new found, fun filled curriculum. Thanks Jo...and UPS.

Wrestle Mania

The girls LOVE when Daddy comes home at night. Because it's a guarantee that he'll roll around with them in the floor. Wrestling. Tickling. Little girls jumping from coffee tables and chairs onto Daddy-body-parts laying innocently on the floor below. Little girls who love to feel strong and tough.

But sometimes, to the outside world, it may sound a little extreme. Especially from the mouth of a 5 year old. But allow me to back up a bit.

Yesterday afternoon was a doozy with Raegan. I think she's teething? And the only calming thing was to hold her. Constantly. By the time Jet got home, I was exhausted and ready to hide far, far away from any and all people under 4 feet tall.

So right after dinner, Jet took the girls and went to the grocery store.

Now whenever Jet goes anywhere with his little girls, he always gets mass media attention. I've stood far off and watched as he walks through a store. Strangers watch, smile, point, approach, and/or comment. They get a lot of attention. Last night was no exception. (*following is a story as relayed by Jet)

As Jet was making his rounds through the aisles, an older man came up to talk to the girls. Wanting to make a connection, the man said "Do you guys like to count?" He got a very feeble 'yes.'

Though I know the girls have gotten used to random people engaging them in conversation, there are times where I can see that look in their eye, as they quickly glance at me. A silent "Mom, do we have to talk to this guy!?"

But this guy obviously didn't catch that look. Or the lack of their enthusiasm. He plowed ahead in his quest to make the girls smile. "Well, I bet you can't count like this!" A sudden and loud rush of auctioneer number-calling flew from his mouth.

Silence. Blank expressions. Confused stares.

And yet. On his continues. (You gotta give this guy credit. He's persistent)

"I don't have any girls. I only had boys. Can I take one of you home with me?"

In the spirit of silent and blank stares, Charis just sat there. Studying this guy and thinking. Until finally she speaks, baffling Jet and silencing the man. "My Daddy plays rough with me."

Jet just stood there, mouth hanging open. Wondering how this guy would interpret that little bit of information and praying Social Services wasn't around...

Knowing my daughter like I do, I think THIS was her train of thought. "You are an old man. One that obviously needs to learn to count. I don't have time to teach you. I like to play. Rough. You probably couldn't handle it being that you're so old. But my daddy can. He loves to. And I love him for it. How do I break this to you easy?"

Too bad she just cut straight to the punch. Or was it? I'm thinking the conversation ended there. :) And I'm sure THAT got a smile from the girls.

Lovin' me some Random...

Mary did a "Random Post" on her blog...and in her heart I know she tagged me to do it, too. Since I KNOOOOWW she's all about wanting to learn the random ramblings of my heart. (see, I know you so well, Mary).

So here it is...in my language of choice: Random.

1) I don't consider myself a girlie-girl. Though I'm not sure why because I love massages and painting my nails and fixing myself up for my husband. So maybe I feel exempt from the world of "girl" because I rarely, if ever, wear pink? (Though at least one, if not all three, of my girls will wear the color on any given day. Go figure.) Or maybe because I'm not into diamond jewelry...except for the rock of a diamond my husband gave me. Or maybe because I hate gossip. Eh. Who knows? But whatever the reason, I just don't feel like the frilly type girl.

2) I never would have thought I'd be a stay-at-home mom. I was the girl who went to college as a freshman knowing that I'd at least get my Masters Degree. Suffice it to say, that after 10 years of trying to find an open door to complete it, I finally put that dream (masters) to rest two summers ago. (I found out I was pregnant with Charis after being accepted into one program...found out I was pregnant with Raegan the last time I started to pursue it...and a bunch of other closed doors in between). And since laying it down, my love and desire to be a stay-at-home mom and wife has only increased 100 fold.

3) I tend to be a perfectionist. But don't expect others to live up the same standards I set for myself. I'm a list maker. And I find great joy in crossing things off. :) I used to be an "all or nothing" person. Though I have gotten better at finding the balance over the last few years

4) I love photography. Thus the reason for the almost non-existent pictures of me...b/c I'm the one behind the camera.

5) I want to learn how to use large power tools. Especially since our shed is full of them. But the blades...you know, the one that slices through metal...scare me. For some reason, I just know a freak accident will happen. You know, one where the blade magically produces a personality and jump off its hinge and sever an appendage. Or two.

6) I have driven a dump truck. Once. It's my sole claim to redneck fame. Yes, I do have a redneck side. I keep it hidden. Under lock and key. Right beside the fact that I'd consider getting a tattoo. (have I mentioned that I have an intense hatred for needles? thus the word "consider")

7) I was an All-State Track sprinter for years and held a few records/titles. But now, due to those competitive years, I am sorely lacking in (knee) cartiladge. I'm telling you, running shoes should come with a warning label.

8) I'm annoyed by people who think having children takes away a person's ability to have fun and be youthful. Like the fact that I've delivered a child somehow allowed part of my personality to dry up and fall off. Like the umbilical cord.

The FACE of an angel...

The preciousness of this little one is overwhelming. She's our CuddleBug, one who will not let you leave the room (when she's going to bed) without hugging and kissing her multiple times. She's our daredevil, always looking for the hard way to accomplish something. She's a mysterious mixture of sweet and sassy.

She, truly, has a precious heart...YET is a fireball waiting to erupt. For there is a small streak of "how far can I push this?" that runs through her blood. Obviously gotten from my husband's DNA. As I never would push the limit. (For those of you that know me...zip it.)

But man oh man! when this little "edgy" personality breaks through and mixes with her deep, little voice and big puppy eyes...it's just so hard to NOT laugh.

(Note to self. Laughing while administering correction, shockingly, is not helpful. Apparently, you lose the whole parental credibility thing. Must. remember. this.)

So I was standing in the corner of their room, unnoticed as I was putting away laundry. Just as I looked up, I saw Selah, the precious little angel that she is, throw back her arm to the full extension of flexibility.

Time stands still as my mind processes what I'm witnessing. Surely, she's not planning to hit her sister! Followed by a "Who am I kidding? Of course, she is!" But apparently, the message of "stop her!" sent from my brain to my feet wasn't fast enough.

...And just as she threw her arm forward to hit Charis, out came a repentent and sweet sounding "Sorry!" Immediately followed by a hard *whack*.

Huh. Well, isn't that something? Never read about this situation in my trusty parental handbook. The apology comes before the offense. Nice.

"Selah!!!" Whipping around quickly, her eyes were wide open at the sudden realization that she'd been caught. But this girl's got some mad drama skills. Because the shocked look FAST turned to an "Yes mother-dear? Is there something you need?" facade.

But before I could even say a word, out of her mouth innocently comes "But I said I was sorry."

Eh. Um, yeah. But you happened to say it BEFORE you hauled off and nailed her. You can't say "Pardon me for what I'm about to do."

Really, the longer I'm a parent, the more I realize I'm so not equipped to do this job without a large dose of heavenly wisdom. So I'm signing off...heading out to beg another injection from the Lord.

Need. Wisdom. Now. Before she turns 4 and her abilities to rationalize and strategize become even more perfected. ;)

A little this and that from the retreat...

Here's Jolanthe...One of my roommates for the ladies retreat! :) We somehow didn't get a picture of our third roommate, Crystal?!!?

I truly had THE best time!! For the first time EVER (at least since I've been going), this retreat didn't revolve around cliques. After the meetings were adjorned, people hung around in their small groups (which were four women prayerfully placed together before the retreat)...talking, praying, laughing. It was amazing!

Usually people have exited the conference room within 10 minutes of the meeting ending. But seriously...the ladies hung around talking to people they normally wouldn't have! Mom and I were SO excited!!!! :D I can't even begin to put words on it.

It's something my mom, the speaker, had been praying about for the last 6 months. (Isn't she sweet?!) That the need for comparisons, jealousy, bitterness, self-doubt would all COME DOWN in Jesus Name. And God answered her prayers in abundance.

In fact, she's still getting emails concerning the level of bonding that occurred...the work the Lord did...the releasing of the prophetic in their lives (another reason Mom felt God asked her to speak). I'm SO Excited to see where God takes this!

Still, my heart is so full from all that went on before, during, and after the retreat. I'm simply unable to put it to words. So for those of you that weren't there, I know I'm leaving a lot of holes. But I just can't express (yet?) all that God did.

These three ladies did a dance that I SO wish I had on DVD. It was so powerful you could hear women weeping as the Holy Spirit ministered through the dancers.
Their black cloaks removed. The bondages gone. Freedom and Joy replaced. So be it Lord!

There you have it...just a taste of my weekend. :)

The heart of a woman

Over the years, I've heard a countless number of women say that they don't do women's things, like bible studies or retreats. They don't like them. They don't go to them. They avoid them at all costs.

And while I'm sure there are various reasons, I think it boils down to one thing: As women, we just don't feel good enough. We compare ourselves to other ladies: The beautiful. The talented. The comedian. The popular. The extrovert. The athlete. We survey the "line up" and dub ourselves lacking. (Couple that with the fact that, as women, we tend to run in cliques ...and I think it's a dangerous formula for endlessly hurt feelings.)

So women's retreats, bible studies, and friendship circles remain incomplete because so many of us women choose to listen to the voice that says "They don't want you." And we remain on the outside. A spectator, plagued with the accusation of " You don't fit in, so why bother?"

It's odd to me because the times where I've shared my insecurities with friends, the response is usually the same, "I never would have guessed you of all people felt like that. You seem so confident. so with it. so together."

My point in saying that? My closest friends wouldn't peg me to be someone who feels left-out or less-than. YET I, "the oh-so-confident-one", struggle with it too. At times it traps me. Crippling me from interacting with others. Mentally nailing my feel to the floor. Forcing me to remain on the sidelines feeling little more than unworthy. The lies of the enemy are no respecter of persons or personality because I'd guess that every woman faces this battle.

....I just got back from a weekend women's retreat. There's much I could say. So much that is echoing around in my heart waiting to be journaled. But at this point, to put words to what the Lord did would lessen it. At least at this stage of post-retreat processing.

But what I will say is this: I know other women who either didn't come or who came and then fought "less than" feelings while there. One person had even decided to remain in her room for the big Saturday night banquet. BUT she did end up coming because of a single phone call. Someone I know felt compelled to call her up and ask her to sit with her at dinner, not knowing that she was feeling isolated. A simple gesture on one end. A HUGE gift for the person being asked.

Someone else (who I NEVER would have guessed would have felt this way) told me that there have been at least two times that she has pulled up to the church on Sunday morning. And then turned around and left. Because she couldn't bring herself to walk into the doors and face people. She didn't feel good enough. She said she felt she didn't "fit."

Wow. Have we, as the church, become that exclusive? So as one of OUR OWN even has a hard time walking in the doors?!!! Have I become so handicapped by the taunting of the enemy that I've waxed introspective to the point that I've stopped loving on people?

Break ME out of my own "I'm not good enough" mentality! The kind of mentality that compels me to "look out for number one" and to try and find myself a clique to become a part of. All in hopes of dispelling my own feelings of being excluded. Such a violent cycle, isn't it?

A cycle of hateful ridicule from the enemy of our souls...in a desperate attempt to keep us from utilizing the most powerful weapon given to women: Our ability to feel, love, and connect on the deepest of levels.

This year, it's my hope that I will SHUT that voice up (because I know it's demonic) and stop being so introspective and start loving others extravagantly. Regardless of what I think they think of me. Because who knows when my "simple gestures" will be a lifesaving moment for someone feeling completely hopeless and lonely. Someone that I may have thought was excluding me...when in all reality she may be excluding herself because she thinks she's not good enough for me.

God, break the cycle. Show us how much you love and accept us so we can turn around and mirror that lavishly.

Skipping Town!

Jolanthe and I ...and a hoard of other ladies...are packing up and shipping out today. 'Cause it's Annual Ladies Retreat time, baby!

My husband has INSISTED that I leave Raegan (who is still nursing!) with him so I can have some time away. He said if she needs me, he'll drive the 2 hours and bring her to me. Yes, he is that amazing.

But I can't even tell you how hard it's been for me to agree/decide to do it!! I'm praying that she won't reject me when I return home (as I have heard can happen when you leave a nursing baby). Please Lord...?

So I'll be out of blogdom (writing mine, reading yours) for a while now. If you happen to have this insatiable desire to read the thoughts that bounce around in my head....

First, I suggest that you seek help. *wink* I know many good counselors, having once been in that field of work myself.

And then, I have left a few of my favorite "humor" posts to help with the withdrawal symptoms. Uh-huh. I'm some kind of thoughtful, I know. hee hee

I love the suprising community I've found in blogland...you guys are amazing!

http://meandering-thru.blogspot.com/2007/05/working-on-being-tri-lingual.html

http://meandering-thru.blogspot.com/2007/06/little-miss-manners.html

http://meandering-thru.blogspot.com/2007/05/this-is-your-brain-on-children.html

http://meandering-thru.blogspot.com/2007/06/evolution-of-bandaid.html

My wild animals...all dressed up and ready to go

Our town businesses open up their doors for two hours to shower the kids with candy and other treats. The girls, who have never done this before, couldn't get over the fact that all they had to do was open up their bag and someone would fill it with chocolate. :)

So we ran around our town for an hour and then headed to our church's harvest party...
Where they had a climbing wall, craft tables, a moon bounce, and so much more.
At the end of the night, we had over SEVEN POUNDS of candy! ...and that was after we ate some!!! The baby food is in the picture just to show how big that bowl is. No...no one gave out mashed bananas as a treat. :)

Just call me the hired cow

Raegan was following me. Babbling, she came crawling into the laundry room behind me. "Say MaMa." I said, smiling. Completely loving the fact that THIS baby said mama before dada. :)

Looking directly at me, she said "DaDa DaDa"

Aww. How cute you are. "Say MAMA. MAMA. You can do it. Ma-Ma."

"DADADADDADADADADA."

I'll spare you the repeated version. But I'll say this little exchange went on at least five more times. And each time, as if she knew exactly what she was doing, she'd say a very clear "Dada." Seemingly, taunting any request for my name.

Finally, my 5 year old, who's in the other room doing schoolwork, said in an exasperated tone of voice, "Uh, she doesn't know YOUR name." In the tone of "Please woman, would you just stop harrassing that poor child. She knows her daddy. And you, clearly, are not him."

No amount of debate with her would convince her that Raegan does know me and my name. Charis wasn't budging on her view of my identity to Raegan being irrelevant and unknown. Jet of course gloated...his brainwashing of all of our girls apparently complete. *tease*

So yep. It's official. Regardless of the fact that Raegan said my name first and that she spends about 90% of her time with me, she seems to have acquired selective amnesia concerning the identity of that random women who nurses her day and night. For she now only chants for her daddy.

That is, until she gets thirsty. *wry grin*