McLife

No, this is not a reference to Grey's Anatomy. I am that one woman on the planet that has never watched it. Wait! Before you declare me unworthy, hear me out. See, I am smart enough to know that if I ever DID watch it, I wouldn't want to stop. I can tell by all the running commentary out there in Blogworld! I've thought Patrick Dempsey was cute since way before he became "McDreamy." Back when he was just nerdy in "Can't Buy Me Love." So I can't risk getting bogged down with one more time stealer.

And there already has not been much time to post lately as the entire past week resembled "rush hour," even despite the fact that none of the kids are in extra-curricular activities right now. So, in the interest of "driving through" quickly and getting on with it, this has been what's on the "menu" recently, in no particular order:

Unpacking and organizing
Reorganizing what the kids move around before I can move to the next thing
REPEAT REPEAT REPEAT
Setting up the trampoline (by myself, to keep the kids from doing above)
Going to the circus on invitation of old renewing friends
Replanting flower beds dug up by neighbors dog (hubby)
Praying for hubby's blood pressure (due to above)
Finally getting our family picture made!
Sad that my youngest is getting his first permanent tooth
Lots o' throwing up (both parents and the young un')
Planning a baby shower for a new friend with no local acquaintances
A cool out of town field trip to a one room school house (my oldest and myself)
Piles and piles and PILES and MOUNTAINS of laundry
Torrential rainfall (LOVE IT!)
Eating out a little more than usual
Boat building and racing (2 of 3 placed second and one required discipline in good sportsmanship - and it WASN'T the one that didn't place)
Marital work
Another forgotten appointment
Discussion with other school Moms about state of education (even in Christian schooling)
Girl date with daughter to a Princess Play
More potential trouble from stolen identity - hence very little money and all the kids in dire need of clothes
Having to watch weight for the first time ever
Researching selling art at local Market or photography job
Watching my daughter invent a new talent (LOVE this idea - she made it up and she is AWESOME at it!! "Scooter Ballet")
Excitement over Easter coming (my very favorite holiday)
A new direction in Bible study - PROVISION
More content with God's grace than ever before

.......SUPER SIZED, with a Dr. Pepper

Sweet Music

My boys are not different from any other siblings in a relationship. Sometimes, they argue. Sometimes one irritates the other purposely and the other feels a need to retaliate because on a worldly level, it's the only way to make things "fair." Of course, sometimes they will defend one another against the flagrant rudeness of an outsider, too. Like the time my mild mannered older son shot a very hard intentional glare in the direction of a 12-year-old who was taunting his then 4-year-old brother and blocking him inside a plastic pod at McDonald's. Both Dalton and I were ready to take this kid to task, I can assure you.

But it's only been in the last year or so that the dynamic between my sons has included just hanging out. Enjoying one another's company. Being brothers. Discovering together what it means to be a boy. Before, Justice was just a toddler, unable to keep up with Dalton. He was just discovering the magic of Blue's Clues at the time when Dalton was needing to assert his growing maturity by proclaiming Blue's Clues was "too babyish." Justice would ride his tricycle around the small invisible space we (his parents) had proclaimed to be safe, while wistfully watching his older brother have free reign of the cul-de-sac on his big boy bike.

I have never been in any hurry to rush a particular stage of growth in my children. I've always wanted to heed the advice of mothers everywhere to "enjoy every moment." But I have dreamed about the day my boys would be true buddies. And I always just assumed when they bonded in this way, it would probably be over something strictly male. Playing football (which they do, for HOURS on end), building forts, or woodworking in their Dad's shop.

I would never have guessed that one of the sweetest moments I'd ever witness between these two would begin with a cheap toy bought yesterday at Dollar General.

Somewhere in a torn powder blue gift bag, I have 2 receipts kept as mementos for the first times my 10-year-old son and my 7-year-old daughter made purchases with their own money. This tradition is a big deal in our family. We'll give the kids opportunities to do chores around the house outside of their regular assigned tasks and pay them accordingly. Things that are not required, but merely opportunities for a "paycheck" if they want save for something special. We show significant pride in that receipt for a first purchase and hang it on the refrigerator for several days. I can still remember that my son bought a calculator and my daughter bought a doll. Both under $5 and legitimately earned.

Yesterday, it was Justice's turn. We were at the discount store so I could quickly grab some laundry soap when he came to me with worry in his voice. "Oh, I REALLY want to spend my money here on something, but I didn't know we were coming here so I don't have my wallet. And there's only one of them left!" Being the embodiment of JOCK, I was surprised when he told me the item he was panting after was a $1 yellow plastic recorder, a musical instrument similar to a flute.

Dalton received a recorder in music class before Christmas and has since been steadily improving at it, adding four or five songs to his repertoire. And Justice just knew that his patient older brother would be eager to teach him. He stood there and admired that little plastic toy like it held all the value of a vault of gold. I fronted him the $1. And I have made it back more than a million times over in watching my little boys practice together.

A while ago, Justice ran into my room where I lay sick and absolutely beamed from ear to ear! "Justice is here to give you a concert," Dalton proclaimed. I watched as my younger son proudly lifted that little plastic recorder toward his toothless, gapped grin and announced, "Listen, mama! I can do two notes - A and B. Except, of course, in recorder B comes first." Then he glanced knowingly at his brother seeking his respect for having remembered that musical fact. I choked back happy tears as I listened to the most beautiful rendition of two notes played over and over and over. The tender satisfaction in my heart was mirrored in Dalton's face as he watched his protege's performance. He was taking a bit of rightful ownership in the success of a new accomplishment for his not-so-baby brother. A teacher and his student. Loving siblings. My boys.

Blue With Flu

Today I'm stuck in bed (or at least, I should be!) feeling yuck!! This, of course means, I need extra help with the duties I usually perform day in and day out. I don't mind the sickness near as much as the stress in creates in our household. So, I'm feeling a little whiny and overwhelmed at figuring out how to get my daughter to her dress fitting (for her cousin's wedding) and fix dinner when I really just feel like hurling! At least getting that out felt better. Now if I could just get my tummy to cooperate!

Sunday Funnies

My husband walked in yesterday morning and asked to the home populous in general, "Has anyone seen my razor?"

"Not unless it's hot pink," I joked. I had seen the bubble gum colored razor in the children's shower and had JUST FINISHED having a conversation with my 7-year-old daughter about whether she was trying to grow up too fast. I realized after a moment or two that she in fact really did not know where the razor had come from. Then it dawned on me that Grandma must have left it when she visited last week.

"Of course, it's not hot pink; it's black," my husband said. "Do they MAKE hot pink razors?"

At this point, I was thinking, "Lord, I know he's a guy and all and recognizing details is not necessarily their forte, but is he SERIOUS?! OF COURSE he must know that women use hot pink razors!"

"Yes." I said. "I've had one."

"O.K. I don't know how I didn't know about that."

At this point I'm thinking "why would I make an announcement about what color razor I'm using to shave on any given day?"

My thoughts were interrupted by my husband's excitement. "Oh, good, here it is!"

And he held up his slender new cell phone!

I guess if it cleans something, he's the one without a clue. If it runs on batteries and involves invisible energy and cool gadget thingy-ma-doos, then obviously I am the one living in the dark.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later, my husband was busy gathering up supplies to work in the shop with his buddies. They were coming over to build boats for the kids to compete in the "Regatta Race" at our church's Wednesday night children's program.

He turned into the bathroom and shut the door. From the other side, I heard him yell (why, oh why, do people always seem to want to hold a conversation from INSIDE the confines of a restroom?!), "Hey kids, one of you please go get me some toilet paper. We need to have some in here. I've got gas galore!"

???????????????

A minute or two later as he finished up business and walked out I teased, "So glad you gave us the play by play about EXACTLY what was going on in there."

He looked puzzled.

So I repeated what he had said. "We need toilet paper in here because I have gas galore?"

He laughed because he had just been explaining to ME that our son seems to be having hearing issues. Then he corrected, "No! I SAID we need to put some toilet paper in that bathroom because I have GUESTS COMING OVER!!!"

Well, that's much more thoughtful, then.............

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And would you believe, as I typed the above and hit "spell check", that "thingy-ma-doos" didn't get highlighted? HUH!

The One Thing

I have not seen an update yet today from Sarah about her sweet baby, Addison, and her hospital stay overnight. You can click here to find out how things are as I will be doing throughout the day. Please continue to pray.

There is so much on my heart and mind lately I might expound upon, but put simply, I shouldn't. Things I've noticed in others that aren't necessarily right, but that are God's situations to deal with, EVEN when they are unfairly directed at me or those I love. I am to trust Him in ALL things. So I'll offer these words of a song. A song I love. The music is upbeat and encouraging and the lyrics are just fantastic!

The One Thing

by Paul Coleman

Here I am In a river of questions
Can I pour my heart out to a listening ear?
I see this life Its valley's and mountains
And I think of all the roads that brought me here
I've questioned my reasons
The life I'm living
I've questioned my ability
To judge wrong from right
I've questioned all the things that I've ever called certain
My race, my religion, my country, my mind
But the one thing I don't question is you
You really love me like you say you do
You really love me like you say you do
Hold me
Hold me
I've questioned significance
Meaning and relevance
Does the work I'm doing really matter at all?
Well I've questioned my friendships
Alliance, dependence
Who will still be here when I fall?
Only one thing doesn't change
Only one thing stays the same
All I know at the end of the day is your love remains

Please Pray for Baby Addison

Bev at Blessed Beyond Measure has asked for prayer for her grandaughter, sweet baby Addison, daughter to Sarah at In The Midst Of It. Earlier today, Addison was taken to the doctor by ambulance for breathing complications due to RSV and possible pneumonia. Last summer, Addison had open heart surgery and has remained small due to a possible genetic defect, so "typical" emergencies like RSV are potentially more serious for her. I have loved getting to know Sarah online. She is a sweet mommy and I know she would appreciate your prayers.

Slaying the Spotted Cow

The best part of moving out here to our little country neighborhood has been the neighbors! This is our third home together as a married couple and every time we have moved we have been blessed with the best people around us. In all honesty, I have to give my husband a lot of credit for this. I do love to meet people and maintain relationships with them, but I really don't enjoy INITIATING friendships. I've tried to analyze why and I think it comes down to me just not trusting people to get to know who I really am. My way of dealing with shyness is by excessive talking, however strange that seems. And sometimes in all my babbling, I just get stupid. My husband is always encouraging me to "cut up with people" to break the ice, but the truth is that I am by nature more thoughtful and serious and "cutting up" is something I am really bad at. I try, but I usually just end up saying something that comes out ENTIRELY differently than how I intended it.

Meeting Romero and Fidela was different. Their first language is Spanish, and though I studied Spanish for eight years in grade school and college, I am by no means fluent, so they expect me to say everything all wrong. We have become fast friends. Romero and Fidela are two of the most generous people I have ever met. At least one or two days a week, they INSIST on cooking for us! It used to make me feel so guilty, or lazy, but honestly, cooking is my least favorite domestic activity, so it is a treat I have learned to fully appreciate and enjoy. And growing up in Texas near the Mexican border, Fidela prepares meals that hearken back to my time there. She finds it hilarious that one of my favorite television programs as a kid was in Spanish.

Romero and Fidela have routinely helped us in other ways as well. He has mowed our lawn while we were away without us making any arrangements for such. She has had the kids over just to give me 30 minutes alone. Tonight, they gave us about $200-$300 worth of free meat. Romero has a friend with a farm and a pregnant cow who gave birth to a large calf this morning. The problem is that the mother was herself a runt. Apparently the birthing process broke her back (literally) and left her moaning in pain. The decision was made to put her down and the friend, in his own generosity, offered the meat free to Romero. Romero, though, was the one who had to do the deed and haul the meat home. This was no problem to him. He had been accustomed to "acquiring his own meat" back in Mexico years ago when he owned a restaurant.

I remember my father once bringing home some venison that was in pretty raw form when I was younger. So I wasn't expecting anything too neat, obviously. But I also was not expecting - NONE OF US WERE - for Romero to approach the patio table where we had thankfully finished dining, and fling a hairy hoofed leg upon it! Then another. And two more! He had dissected the whole cow into transportable parts before coming home, but he had to leave them as intact as possible to prevent spoiling on the way. Unfortunately the children came out of the house to play just as he was arriving, and they saw it all!

At first this began to bother me. I mean, even Fidela was looking a little queasy. But then I realized that handled properly, this could be a great object lesson. We have only DESCRIBED to our children before that a big purpose behind animal sacrifice in the Bible, was so that the people would be faced with a tangible reminder that another must die for us to live. It was a picture of the sacrifice to come. That the Lamb of God would be slain for us to live eternally. "Without the shedding of blood, there is no remission of sin." (Hebrews 9:22) As the kids gasped and feigned choking, we reminded them of this. This was VERY real. Now they could actually see what they will later be eating, either directly or by way of a store bought replica. They will forever be much less likely to forget that each bite of food they are allowed to swallow is an explicit provision of God. And that provisions are not always pretty. We are so blessed in our society - maybe TOO blessed - not to be confronted with the ugliness of our food preparation. This was certainly my first time! But for centuries people prepared their own meat, and were reminded with each cut to be thankful. Most of us have lived our whole lives with a view of our meals that is so sanitized, we rush our prayers with an attitude of inconvenience, if not outright apathy. I realized that my children, though being disturbed for a moment, were being given a blessing too rare today in our world - a very vivid reminder of THE SACRIFICE we too often forget, ignore, and turn away from, because it just isn't very romantic. GOD HIMSELF, in the form of a man, the ONLY holy and righteous man to ever walk this Earth, shed His blood and gave HIS flesh to be torn. And He did so that we might partake of it - AND LIVE.

A Message

Something I saw today that I desperately needed to - a message on a church marquee:

God Always Answers Knee Mail

Thank you, Lord for sharing that.

Cousin Hugs

Wow! What an exhilarating, mess-making, completely exhausting, fun, productive, blessed week! My mom has left to go home to Texas to help out my brother's family after graciously offering an entire week of her life to help me. She took over my daily duties of laundry, meal planning/preparation and running the kids all over the place while I dug in and tried to make sense of three years of storage and paperwork chaos.

Honestly, I probably only got about a tenth to a fifth through where I need to be for normal life to return to us, but at least with boxes open EVERYWHERE I will be forced to come out of my slump of lacking motivation. Still, God has accomplished His purpose for this trial. I have loosened up and found better balance. In fact, I wanted to take the weekend off even though it was my mom's last day here to help me. My niece was coming to stay with us for the weekend and I wanted to spend all the time we could with her. We just don't get to spend time with her like that near often enough!

On Friday after picking her up, my niece, my mom, my daughter and I went to the salon where we all got French manicures and pedicures in the "color lighted chairs" my daughter has always wanted to try. The next morning, the girls were down the street with my sons at an empty lot building a "fort" with their sandals on, getting mud and dirt under those perfectly painted toenails - and I loved it! I love the juxtaposition of their daintiness and tom-boyishness all wrapped into two cute smiling little figures of innocence. I went down to view their handiwork of tree limbs and tumbleweeds before cooking out a hamburger lunch.

That evening, we had plans to go to a place that is about 4500 square feet of moonwalk mazes and games. Apparently, though, they have switched over to a Birthday Only facility since I was there last, so we had about a half hour discussion about where to go instead. The kids all became overwhelmed with so many choices. After too many "what if we's" and "No, I don't want to's", my head was spinning. I half-joked that we should just go hang out in the tiny town down the road from here instead of the nearby metro with dozens of kid-friendly attractions, and all of a sudden they agreed! They said they were "up for an adventure." So we went bowling....in a 100+ year-old building that leaned so heavily to one side, you had to adjust your throw accordingly. And we had a blast! Grandma and my niece won the two games. The bowling alley "mascots" were two birds that talk. One of them kept us in stitches for a half hour saying "hello", "goodbye", "I'm Taco" and whistling "Boomer Sooner." My sons LOVED that! As we walked outside, the kids were treated to seeing the train pass just yards in front of them. They always love this, especially right now since their Dad has found a new hobby of train-building with them. Then we went and saw the church camp that Grandma (my mom) first attended as a kid. (This bowling alley was the first one she had ever been in too, which is funny because this is not the area where either she or I grew up.)

Driving home in the beautiful warm Spring darkness, it was easy to soak in the blessings. Good conversation with my mom, one of my very best friends. The freedom to be a stay-at-home-mom without a paid job to be indebted to on this Spring Break. And time with my niece who was creating a game in the back seat with my children.

"O.K. You be me and I'll be my mom and your brother can be my brother and he'll be your Dad...."

They would play their "roles" for a sentence or two, then yell "Cousin Hugs!" and take turns giving each other great big embraces and laughing.

Then Allie started a song they hadn't known before: "We are Family....I got my brothers, sisters, cousins and me......" with all of their giggley little voices joining in the backseat.

How funny! After returning home, my mom and I sat on the front porch and watched the kids play "flashlight tag" in the yard. I did not want our time together to end. A week with my Mom and a weekend with Allie was just too short, but I knew Allie had an exciting surprise waiting for her in Texas and I couldn't wait for her to get to go see it. Her Mommy was coming home after 6 months away at a transplant hospital in Nebraska with Allie's baby sister! As much fun as I hoped to show her at our house, there just is no topping that!!!

God is so good to us.

I Still Got It!

Today has been gloriously devoid of anything resembling serious adult responsibility, except for a quick 20-minute run to the grocery store for hamburger meat to grill out. Because I only needed a few items, yet live a few miles out of town, I went to the store closest to our house. It's one I've never been to before because their prices are generally akin to buying books for college. Oh, what met me there! Literally.

I was serenely perusing the bread aisle in search of buns (hamburger, that is) that would be pleasing to all when I caught the shadow of a tall male approaching me out of my periphreal vision. Almost before I had time to register the source of the figure, a friendly, fast-talking man stood face to face with me. "Hi." He said. "I know this may seem a little forward and all, but I just watched you as you walked in here from your car and I know this may sound a little forward, but you know, I just said to myself that you are a fine looking woman and I just decided the only way to get to know you a little is to just come up and introduce myself and say "Hi."

As he spoke the man was standing a foot or two away from me with his right hand resting on the side of my shopping cart, mere inches from my purse handles. Right or wrong, my instincts told me there was the possibility, given this man was barely a nudge beyond puberty and I am, well, cresting the summit of the mountain of life, that this guy really wanted my purse more than he wanted me.

He continued before I could formulate a response.

"My name is D. and I know this sounds forward and all (for the 3rd time! ha ha), but I just thought to myself, you know, I am 22 years old now and being 22, I feel that I am at an age where, you know, I just gotta assert myself, you know and if I find that a girl is pretty, I just gotta tell her so. Otherwise, how could I at least see if something could maybe go on between us. You know? So, anyway, I know you're probably just a little bit older than me, but I'd like to ask you out. I'd like to show you around a bit. Or, you know, maybe since you're older than me (um, yeah, point taken), you could probably show me a thing or two."

Normally, my chin would have been hanging on the ground in astonishment, but honestly, I couldn't shake the feeling that if I were to divert eye contact for even a split second, I may suddenly lose my ability to fork out the dough needed to feed my family. So I did what I do when I am feeling both suspicious and amused - I smiled. And made direct eye contact. Which I only hope was not egging the whole thing on.

In my friendliest tone I offered, "Well, I would show you to slow it down a little bit, take a little time. Yeah. This is coming on kinda strong. And you otherwise strike me as a very friendly guy, except that maybe you're trying a little too hard." Then we both laughed.

"Yeah. Really, I hope you'll take me for how I meant it. You're just a beautiful woman. And, I mean, I don't know if you're already hooked up or what (to which I'm thinking YEAH, BUT YOU HAVEN'T STOPPED TALKING LONG ENOUGH FOR ME TO TELL YOU) but you know, if you'd like, I'd love to ask you out, you know, if you're not together with someone yet."

"Well, yes, I am happily married and I have three children."

"Wow! D*@#! No, I would not have thought that. I mean, well you're just real pretty. And I don't go for that, but, you know, I hope that even if this can't be that at least, you know, I can at least offer you a compliment that might help your day, because, you know, even if it can't lead to nothing, I think it's still good to let people know what you think and hopefully make them feel good anyway. I mean, if you feel you can give someone a good compliment and they can maybe know they have a reason to feel good, then why not, you know what I mean. So hey, I mean, you have a great day. O.K.?"

And as quickly as his shadow had appeared into the corner of my eye, he disappeared out the front doors of the store. Without my purse. And I couldn't help but chuckle when he left, realizing that was the most awkwardly delivered "compliment" I have ever received!

Or maybe I was just laughing inside at such a funny prospect. I find myself at an age when I can't even figure out if I have just been hit on by some romantically challenged, well-meaning young guy OR - am I finally getting old enough to look like a easily targeted, mentally distracted victim? One thing is for sure. At least I know I still got it! (My purse, that is!)

Standing Up

Sometimes I hesitate to write too many of this kind of a post in close proximity. I don't want to give off the false impression that as a family, we have it all together, praise God with every single instant of our lives (we should, but we don't ALWAYS), and there is never a failure or a fight. But this blog being first a journal for my family and a heritage for my grandchildren, not yet born for many years, I do want to record the many successes of my children for their encouragement and mine. I want to be able to read back through on the hard days, like several of them this week, and remember that slow and sticking progress is being made in the spiritual growth of our beloved children. I want them to be able to look back over our words one day and know the failures were forgotten, not just by God but by us as well, and the victories were proud moments for their parents.

Yesterday I was blessed with two of those moments. On a day when it seemed as though nothing else went according to my desires, when it seemed as though a million efforts on my part and my husband's and my mom's were for nought, when I was accepting such because of all that God has so faithfully taught me, when despite many a detour in the plans, I was O.K. with it, God gracefully gave me a heaping dose of encouragement anyway.

First, my daughter, who has been battling not one but three catty buddy bullies at her school and whose confidence level often seems non-existent, stood up to them. And she did it in the most important way. It seems that the bully gang and one of my daughter's friends, plus a couple of other girls were all pretending to be "witches" as they frolicked on the playground yesterday at recess. The three who normally exclude Faith from their presence offered her turn at being the witch and she told them, "Well, we are lucky to get to go to a Christian school and since witches and stuff like that are evil and don't belong to God, I don't want to play that." Thank You God!!! I honestly was surprised at her spot-on reaction. Her problems with these particular three have reached such a degree that I actually have a conference scheduled with the teacher about it today. And I love God for rewarding her confidence (her step of faith) by having my daughter's friend and another girl agree. "Yeah, we don't want to play that either." Please know that I am not making judgements about just how serious this whole situation was; I am just glad for how it worked out Faith's growth and commitment and confidence.

Then last night, we went early to my daughter's cheer leading exhibition to help out with set up and decorations. My son became bored at having to sit around while we worked, so he jumped in and found out what needed to be done. Apparently during the course of his work, someone remarked to him what a fine helper he was and that was all it took. He spent the next three hours in non-stop service, doing everything from serving the meal (I was SO PROUD of his latex gloves and his smile) to sweeping to stripping the decorations to putting away chairs and carrying out trash. He got dirty and broke a sweat. And before the night was over, people were making specific efforts to seek out his parents so they could tell us what a fine job he had done with joy in his heart. Just that ONE first comment was all it took. It reminded me to be constantly forgiving the bad and actively seeking the good in our children (in everyone for that matter.) He just needed that one assurance that his efforts matter. I know I feel the same way when someone takes the time to tell me when I've been a blessing. It's good for several more rounds of whatever it is that we're facing. I am so grateful to the adults who understood that and recognized my son. It's nice when it starts to come from someone other than just Mom and Dad. I think it validates a child that he is receiving that kind of recognition from someone who doesn't automatically love him already. And it sure does make a parent happy and proud!

Wedding Rituals

I love my niece. She is my niece by marriage, but we couldn't be any closer if she was an actual blood relative. Neither could her mom and me for that matter. My sister-in-law and I don't necessarily talk every day or even for weeks sometimes because we are both so busy raising large active families. But she is still the encouraging, protective older sister I never had growing up. And her little girl called me last Friday night to share something very special with me. I felt so privileged to be one of the first to hear. "Guess what, I'm getting married!"

The truth is that I had already had a head's up from her mom that things were about to take place and it just about killed me waiting to congratulate her! Her fiance did the right thing and asked her parents' permission before waiting five loooong days to make it official in truly romantic style - a photographic trip down memory lane - displayed so beautifully with mushy explanations for what made each of their celluloid moments so special to him. Leo is the guy the whole extended family has wanted to be "the one" for a long time. We were just waiting around for Lindsay to feel confident enough to finally figure that out too!

Lindsay also had some wonderful news for my seven-year-old daughter. (We are three peas in a pod - all of us loving fashion and ceremony) She gets to be the flower girl! Yay! She is over the moon, for sure. However, Lindsay has also tapped my older son to be the miniature groom with my other niece, Lindsay's little sister for the mini bride. And my youngest son has been honored with the Ring Bearer title.

While all of this is quite exciting for the estrogen-induced members of our household, the boys have been a little more hesitant to say the least. They love their cousin. And more importantly to them, they love Leo. If being in his wedding means they might get to wrestle with him at the reception and throw cake into each other's mouths hoops-style, well, they might just have to consider walking down the aisle their obligatory privilege.

"But" my little one wanted to know, "What is a Ring Bear? Please tell me I don't have to wear a costume."

"No." I replied. "It's not Ring Bear. It's Ring Bearer. A Ring Bearer is the one who takes the wedding rings down the aisle to give to the people getting married so they can give them to each other. And you'll probably be wearing a tuxedo."

"Why don't they just carry their own rings?"

"Because it's just fancier to make a big deal out of the rings by having everyone know that the ring part is about to happen. And wedding dresses don't have pockets."
(It's always good to confuse them with a backup reason so they forget to ask "Why?"

"Well, how will I take the rings down there?"

"On a pillow."

"On a pillow?! What the heck do you carry rings on a pillow for?! That makes no sense. That's just silly! Pillows are for sleeping. Not for a wedding!"

SPOKEN LIKE A TRUE-BLUE RED-BLOODED AMERICAN BOY!

Later we got back on the topic of the tuxedos - after mentioning the wedding is in July and will be held outdoors.

"Mom, that will be too hot for a suit! And PLEASE tell me I don't have to wear a bow on my neck!"

"Well, that's just what's traditional. But Lindsay's pretty stylish. Maybe she'll have you wear white pants and shirt or something."

"Yeeeeaaahh! That would be so cool. Then I could wear my football pants!" (And he was serious.)

And my older son, upon hearing he would be paired up with his own cousin (the one who has a crush on him and justifies it by way of her adoption - just like I did when I was little and had a crush on my adopted cousin) to play bride and groom? Well, I have no idea how his ten-year-old self knew to make a joke about it by bringing up Arkansas, but that is what he did.

So as you can tell, Leo pretty much holds all the man-who-gets-how-to-make-a-girl-swoon cards around here. But then, he had a bubbly, talented girl to get to say "Yes!" And I 'm so glad she did. Congratulations Lindsay and Leo!

Bloggy Break

This weekend I will be without a computer while I spend significant time unpacking and decluttering the "new" house with my sweet mom's help. My hubby will have our (O.K. HIS)laptop with him at a men's conference and my computer will hopefully be at a friend's house getting some long overdue TLC. All that to say, I won't be seeing Blogland until Monday at least. I'll miss checking on things, especially my niece Ashley (which I'll do by phone, of course, if anything significant happens. My prayer is that all will be quiet.) But I will LOVE getting organized! Have a safe and happy weekend!

A Father With Empty Arms And A Reason To Smile Anyway

You absolutely must - MUST - go read this! There is nothing more insightful, more poignent or more reassuring that I could offer today than what this father has written. He is so talented at describing in the most palpable detail, God's changing of his heart through the death of his only child - a perfect little boy named Eliot.

Our Pre-K Crass-anova

A CONVERSATION LAST NIGHT IN OUR LIVING ROOM

My 5-Year-Old: "Oh, my goodness, did you hear that, Dad, that guy said 'She's Hot.' She is NOT hot!"

My Hubby: "That guy just meant that she wasn't cool. I mean comfortable. He was explaining why she was fanning herself!"

5-Y-O (slyly): "I know, but I know what the other kind of hot means."

Hubby: "How do you know THAT?!"

5-Y-O: "Because I just know what it means."

Hubby: "What does it mean?"

5-Y-O (giggling): "It means cute."

Hubby: "Well, that's true."

5-Y-O: "I know because I've heard you say Mom is hot..... But she's not."

Me: "What?"

5-Y-O: "Moms are not hot."

SILENCE

Hubby: "Moms can be hot."

Me: (to hubby): ONLY the Mom you are married to can be hot!"

5-Y-O: "No. Moms are not hot because they have kids."

Me: (to 5-Y-O, wondering how we raised such a chauvinist): "So if you have kids, you can't be cute anymore?!"

5-Y-O: "Yeah."

Hubby: "Why?"

5-Y-O (to hubby): "Because if a lady has kids, she is already married so she can not marry anybody else. And I shouldn't like a girl if she's already married. That's why Mom is not hot. Because she is already YOUR wife. So she can't be cute to ME because I have to marry somebody else."

Hubby: "OH! So you mean she can be hot to me, but not to you!"

5-Y-O: "Yeah. Of course. I can't marry her. She's my mom. But for you she's cute."

Me: "Yeah, to Daddy I better be hot. I better be the only hot Mama he knows!"

5-Y-O Giggles.

He Grows And Roots Ever Deeper Into My Heart

There's always a party flake, isn't there, showing up in body but whose mind is somewhere else? That's me, this week. But I'm O.K. admitting that, because the truth is that my family - my most fun-nest party (of 5) - is into their own festive antics this week, so I'm just going to have to say a quick "hello", get to know the names and faces, and call you back at "home" when I get a chance later. Yes, I've got somewhere better to be right now, but as far as I can tell, this party is full of women who get it. Babies before boas and tiaras.

Even if one of those "babies" really isn't anymore. Yesterday, Dalton and I spent a really wonderful evening at his very first "Troop Recruitment Fellowship," for Boy Scouts. Troop Recruitment is very similar to sports recruiting in that the boys visit a variety of different organizations in meet and greet style, getting to know the current members while they give their best spiel on the specific philosophies unique to them as a group. They in turn get to know our boys and what they want to achieve through Scouting.

Watching Dalton interact in this process just blew me away. I don't know why I was so surprised by his high level of professionalism. Dalton has always been a very kind and responsible, very smart boy. But that's just it. He has always been A BOY. A kind and responsible, smart and rowdy, silly and immature little boy. Last night, I saw something in him I have always known he had the potential for. It just seems like that potential was being fulfilled so very much sooner than I would have anticipated.

After the fellowship time, when the official meeting was being called to order, I took a seat in unfamiliar territory at the back of the room. No longer was I sitting beside my son for support. Instead I watched with bitter sweet emotions as he walked boldly forward to take his seat amongst the men. A boy, decidedly younger-looking than the muscular teen-aged scouts not far from graduation, but then he took his turn at speaking. With confidence and humility, he explained what he has enjoyed most about scouting, how he plans to use his growing knowledge to succeed in life (he wants to be a pilot), and how he would use his scouting experience to influence others. He said his goal is to aim for the highest Eagle Scout rank, but only if he can do so while putting God, family and school first! I sat in utter amazement, knowing my son has always strived to make God and us proud, but never quite so aware of this depth of thought going on inside of his heart nor the eloquence with which he could explain himself!

During the question and answer session, several of the boys raised their hands to offer somewhat rambling stories of limited relevance to the topics being discussed. As parents, we are used to this. These are elementary aged boys after all, and my son has not been immune to this in the past. But as I sat there, almost out of body, and witnessed the Troop leader and members marvel at the thoughtfulness of my son's questions, I was equally as impressed. Had he been someone else's son I was watching, I still would have taken notice. How proud he made me to call him my son! This "child" was teetering somewhere in the middle between the rowdy goofiness of a school boy and ,at that moment, an ermerging young man. My heart was bursting with gratitude and pride at the smart and assured manner with which he was handling himself. As he finished his visit with eye contact and hand shakes, he turned to me and nonchalantly offered, "I love you, Mom." I think I melted in a puddle right there! As my little boy grows and matures, there are days I find myself fighting the inevitable sadness of letting go of the innocence of baby days gone by. But to temper that, God gives me glorious glimpses of new accomplishments and decisive victories of a young man I am so very proud to know!

In the end, I don't think this is probably the troop with which Dalton will align himself and we both agreed on that. They were friendly and capable and helpful, but they probably just weren't "it" for reasons unrelated to their character. But I am convinced that when Dalton does make his decision, it will be to the benefit of the Troop he selects. I say that not just as a proud mom, but as someone simply blessed to be able to know him. Blessed to be consulted as he begins to form goals and excercise his growing independence. Blessed to watch him grow into the person God intends for him to be. Blessed to there for him on the days when he wants to slide back into the safety of boyhood. Blessed to watch him become someone very special, apart from his place as the first born child of our family. Blessed to watch first hand as God molds him into a leader, a loyal friend, a successful Scout, and a fine YOUNG MAN!

To all of those who left such sweet comments of good wishes toward my daughter, Thank You for your kindness. She did stay home from school today with a fever and slept for most of the afternoon, but she is a good patient and we hope with all of the rest, she can return to school tomorrow or Thursday. Then don't be surprised if I stop by your blog for a while!

Cute Blog Party Humor

I have received such friendly comments for the Ultimate Blog Party and I am looking forward to visiting your sites soon. Today, though, I'm taking care of my very favorite little lady, who is feeling yucky and bored and in need of company.

In the mean time, I'll share a cute joke my grandmother told me that my nephew told her (or vice-versa; I'm not sure, but I want to give them due credit):

Three couples were at a dinner party one evening enjoying a time of fellowship together. One was a newly married young couple, one was middle-aged empty-nesters, and one was a sweet older couple married almost fifty years. As dinner was presented and the couples passed around serving dishes, the starry-eyed newlywed groom leaned in closely to his wife and whispered cleverly, "Would you please pass me the chicken, DUMPLING?" She blushed with a grin and passed him the chicken. Now the empty-nest husband saw the other lady's pleased reaction and decided a little flirtation with his own wife might impress her. So he said, "Would you please pass the me the honey, MUFFIN?" She sighed wistfully at her hubby for being so romantic after all their years together. Now the elderly man had witnessed both of the other couples enjoying this little game and decided he would take his turn at wooing his wife, also. He looked her in the eyes and smiled lovingly with his polished dentures. "Would you please pass the tea, BAG?"

Now isn't that just too cute?

I'm going to go in with my sweet sick daughter now to watch Little People, Big World and Home Makeover - Extreme Edition (I have NEVER made it through an episode without crying) while painting our nails. We hardly ever watch TV and these are two of the few that are appropriate anymore. Thanks to everyone who has stopped by to say "Hello" and just know I will swing by your place as soon as I can.

Have a great evening!

The Ultimate Blog Party - I Made It! I'm Here!

Oh, Hi, everybody! Hi! Where do I put my coat? I'm sorry I'm so late. I couldn't quite figure out the directions to get here. Krista showed up with a map and I am so grateful to her for helping me find the party. But I needed to help my three children with some chores before heading over. I'm so happy to finally be here. It's nice to meet you all. I already noted a couple of your wonderful recipes while making my way in. I haven't tried them yet, but they look delicious! Have you met our hostesses, Janice and Susan? Isn't this a fabulous party they've organized? I have met a few wonderful people already. Just tap them on the back on my side bar and tell them "Hello." In the mean time, I am going to mingle. I'll catch you soon so we can introduce ourselves. Bye!

Oh, and if you've inadvertantly dropped in on the conversation and don't know what's going on, feel free to join us! Our hostesses have kindly set up a list of blogs that want to mingle and "meet" each other online! Just clink the link above to add your name to the list and join the party

Better To Get Dirty And Wash Than To Miss The Muck And The Hugs In The Trenches

What a weird evening and morning. As I type, my two youngest children are watching a cartoon whose characters sport thick British accents, and for whatever reason, I'm finding it both wildly amusing and a little annoying. Anyhow, Faith threw up this morning (albeit minutely and with no other symptoms at all - I think it was more of one of those choke on your breath kind of things), so I've let her stay home from school today. Maybe an extra day of watching Mom do nothing but laundry will cure her ailment, which is possibly nothing more than a case of misplaced embarrassment.

After cheer practice last night, the director told me discreetly that the neighbor girl she brings with her to practice has lice. I am close enough to my friend to have been able to ask her "why, oh why then, didn't you tell us when practice first started?!" She is a hair stylist by trade and, she explained, had just discovered the problem for herself a couple of minutes earlier. In hindsight, I am glad. I am afraid I might have had more of a more knee-jerk reaction had we known any earlier. Apparently the girl's mother either didn't know - or more likely, didn't care. The little girl in question, C., is so very sweet and eager to please and so undeserving of her home life, or rather lack thereof. We coaches have the humble honor to be C.'s chosen adopted mother figures and I want to protect her little heart even more than I wanted to protect my daughter's beautiful blonde hair. The girls continued to play together as we talked and Robin assured us they probably had not had enough contact to be affected. I, on the other hand, had been so sweetly hugged several times earlier in the evening. We give hugs almost habitually. It's not that any one of them is particularly meaningful individually, but relenting at an embrace would have been. Finding out about the lice late in practice allowed me to reason that any transfer, if it were going to take place, probably already would have. It gave me a chance to temper my reaction thoughtfully. So after practice ended normally, Faith and I went to the store to buy treatments, just in case. The shampoo was smelly and I believe Faith probably had a case of self consciousness when she got up this morning, even though the smell is now barely detectable.

It's been a difficult year for Faith, realizing all on her own that the world is marred. I don't tell her about C.'s problems, but she figures it out. We had a long discussion last night about C. and how to handle the blunt details she sometimes offers about her family. She's not one to act out, but instead to just spill matter-of-factly what's happening - divorce, neglect, and a lot of fighting and frustration - stuff a lot of seven-year-old girls aren't yet familiar with, precisely because they shouldn't have to be. I find myself walking that fine line between wanting to protect my daughter's fading innocence and wanting to protect a precious little girl from not having the friendships she so desperately needs. I don't ever want to be too hasty in pulling my daughter away from her. If God had not allowed our ignorance last night, I might have been.

C. is the stunning product of some spiritually desperate parents and a God who almost tangibly fathers her on their behalf. She is so proud of her Jesus and I am proud of her. Sometimes I wish there were a shampoo that would wash away the "sins of the fathers." I guess there is. I just have to try to persuade people to read and believe it. Then my hope would be that we ALL would rinse and repeat daily!

What If?

Not a lot of time to post today, but I thought I would instead share some song lyrics that hit me over and over each time I hear them. I wish I knew how to download the music. Seeing them merely written doesn't quite do them the same justice, but they are profound food for thought.

This is sung by Nichole Nordeman

What if you're right?
And he was just another nice guy
What if you're right?
What if it's true?
They say the cross will only make a fool of you
And what if it's true?
What if he takes his place in history
With all the prophets and the kings
Who taught us love and came in peace
But then the story ends
What then?
But what if you're wrong?
What if there's more?
What if there's hope you never dreamed of hoping for?
What if you jump? And just close your eyes?
What if the arms that catch you, catch you by surprise?
What if He's more than enough?
What if it's love?

What if you dig
Way down deeper than your simple-minded friends
What if you dig?
What if you find
A thousand more unanswered questions down inside
That's all you find?
What if you pick apart the logic
And begin to poke the holes
What if the crown of thorns is no more
Than folklore that must be told
And Re-told?

You've been running as fast as you can
You've been looking for a place you can land
For so long
But what if you're wrong?