A DAY IN THE LIFE....

Blake started football practice 2 days ago. "Three-a-Days". Since I have been fortunate to have the last 3 days off work, I got to do the early morning drop off and the noon pick-up.
Here was yesterday's "Three-a-day" for this football mom:

6:30 - wake up, get dressed, feed pets, eat breakfast.
6:45 - wake Blake
6:57 - wake Blake
7:00 - tell Blake "you REALLY need to get up."
7:15 - greet 3 boys at the door who have been dropped off for carpool. Hear Kayla complain from her bed that the boys shouldn't ring the doorbell.
7:20- drive 4 boys to practice.

11:00 - drive Kayla to jr. high to pick up school supplies and look around the building.
11:10 - tell Kayla "I am NOT staying here all day so you can socialize with your friends."
11:27 - drive to high school to buy spirit wear.
11:40 - write check for ridiculous amount so we can all look "spirited" in the bleachers. Feel guilty.
11:45-12:10 - sit in high school lobby and watch blinding rain come down, wishing they were selling spirit umbrellas.
12:10 - dash to van in sideways rain, wishing they were selling spirit umbrellas. Had to leave the highscool so the secretaries could go eat lunch.
12:10-12:30 sit in van, wet and grumpy, watching the clock until the boys get in.
12:30 - greet 3 boys as they drip into the van. One is staying in Maroa. Listen to Blake complain about something at home - finally blow up and raise voice at Blake in front of his friends. Tell him I am tired of his complaining as soon as he gets in the van.
12:47 - accept Blake's apology. Tell him not to call people "freak."
1:00 - arrive home - fix Blake 5 scrambled eggs with ham and cheese. Marvel at how much he eats and that he had better table manners when he was 3.
4:30 - wake Blake
4:45 - wake Blake
5:00 - tell Blake "you REALLY need to get up, you don't want your ride to have to wait." Get griped at by Blake for waking him.
6:00 - order pizza for self and Kayla and her friend. Paul is traveling, why cook?
8:30 - greet Blake and notice the mud on him from head to toe. Remember when he was a toddler and loved the mud. Some things never change.
8:45 - watch Blake eat a WHOLE 14 inch pepperoni pizza. Marvel at how much he eats and that he had better table manners when he was 3.
9:15 - hear Blake get out of the shower, yell "good night Mom, I love you."

That was yesterday. Today is pretty much the same. EXCEPT. Add a trip to the hospital for a urinalysis and a trip to the store to buy eggs (see above note about his appetite) and soap and shampoo (3 showers a day for Blake alone.) And a trip at 1:30 to pick up Kayla's friend to take them to the pool. Show up at pool and notice sign on door: POOL CLOSED. Do mental head slap and say "phone first." Oh and since practice is early tonight (4-6:30 instead of 6-8:30) realize I will be driving carpool tonight too since everybody else is still working. What's this about being a STAY AT HOME MOM?

WHO'S HERE...?

Have you stepped outside. It feels wonderful. It is only 81 degrees here at 4:51 pm. That is much better than the 97 it was about 10 days ago. It is a little overcast and breezy. It gives me hope for fall. I LOVE FALL.

And speaking of fall...Paul went to the "all sports parents meeting" at the high school last night. He came home and said "It's going to be an expensive week." Meaning: we register the kids tomorrow and we all know how painful that is. Plus he was wearing a new ballcap sold by the football boosters. It is really unlike Paul to buy something like that so I was impressed. He said he didn't know what to pick out for me but that there would be stuff at registration. I think that was a suggestion to buy myself some spiritwear. Afterall, it is our son's first highschool sport.

And speaking of our son....I was sleeping - yes sleeping just a while ago. Because I had a sinus headache AND my stomach was bothering me, that's why.
Anyway, he came in and said "we're home." Meaning him and Taylor and Ryan. And then he said "Oh, Sarah's here too." "Wait a minute, Blake, who is Sarah?" I ask, hoping he means Ryan's sister. "She's Taylor's girlfriend." Well, nothing gets a mom out of bed quicker than hearing that a teenage boy has a girlfriend in the house. So I change out of my ratty shorts and t-shirt and stumble into my favorite capris, comb my hair and trudge downstairs. I hear 3 teenage males and one female in the basement. And the ping-pong, ping-pong of....the ping pong table. So I think things are safe for the moment. I am fairly confident leaving Blake and his buddies unattended in the house. Well, there was the time that the other parents in the bleachers at the softball game heard me yell into my cell phone "DON'T YOU DARE LIGHT A FIRE IN THAT FIREPLACE!" But usually things are pretty safe. But I am NOT fairly confident leaving Blake and his buddies and one or more girls in the house, even if I am just 2 floors away.

And speaking of girls. In a moment of insanity, I agreed to let Kayla have a back-to-school cookout. She addressed her invitations today. 26 invitations. That means 27 potential guests because one is going to twin boys so they are a "two-fer". Paul was silly enough to suggest he might be out of the country that evening. I didn't say a thing. The look I gave him said it all.

JUICY TIDBITS

I just ate my first fresh tomato of the season. Paul brought it home from a lady at work. I LOVE tomatoes. Each time I eat one I think of my grandpa. I used to stand in his garden and pick a fresh tomato with him. We'd wipe the dirt on our pants and eat them like apples. Then later in the fall, when our apple tree was full of fruit, he'd hold me up to pick the one I wanted. Then he'd pull his pocket knife out and slice the apple right there and hand me slices right off the blade. We'd share an apple right under the tree. This was all back in the day when it didn't bother me a bit to have juice running down my chin onto my neck.
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Yesterday we were at Six Flags. It was 99 degrees. With a heat index of 106. It was MISERABLE. Paul and I spent the day going into shows and sitting in restaurants reading the paper. This was a day for the kids following a big youth rally so it was not like we just got it into our heads to be at a theme park on the hottest day of the year. The kids had fun. Anyway, we had spent the night at the Holiday Inn right by the park and we took their shuttle bus over so we wouldn't have to pay to park. Then at the end of the day, we caught the shuttle bus back to the hotel. We waited about 10-15 minutes for the bus and were with several other people. Just waiting for those few minutes was very hot, especially at the end of such a hot day. When we started getting onto the bus, the driver reached down and opened a cooler and offered each of us an ice-cold bottle of water. We were all thrilled. As each person grabbed his water and said thanks, I was thinking "it's just a bottle of water but look how much it means to all of us." I put an extra tip in his jar. I just thought it was really thoughtful of him to provide that simple gesture that brought so many of us relief from the heat. Now we don't know if it was hotel policy or if he went out and did that on his own; but it was a welcome sight for all of us. I'm going to remind myself of that when I think there is nothing I can do for somebody who needs, well, something. I'm going to remind myself that sometimes the simplest of gestures makes a lasting impression. I'm going to remind myself that "it's just a bottle of water....."

LET ME EXPLAIN

In my previous post I expressed a great deal of anger toward the man who walked out on his wife of 7 months - a dear friend of ours. My anger is not so much at the adultery, although I know that is bad. I know marriages and individuals can heal from adultery and I find those couples and individuals very courageous. My anger is at the verbal and emotional abuse this man was heaping upon his wife. Without an end in sight, that kind of abuse can leave permanent scars. Without any sign of remorse this man, I'm afraid, has forever changed the spirit of his young bride. That's what makes me so angry - angry enough to want to smack him. A couple can move on from a mistake and perhaps come out the other side better and stronger. I've seen it happen. But continual emotional and verbal abuse is an attack that wears away the spirit and leaves the victim nothing but a shell of what she once was. That is what I am praying will NOT happen to my friend.
So there it is. I just felt the need to soften my words a bit.

YEP, THERE'S A HOLE IN MY STOMACH

I have an ulcer. When seeing my family doctor about it, after hearing my symptoms, he asked if I had been taking those anti-inflammatories he had prescribed earlier for something else. Yes, I have. "Yep, I've put a hole in your stomach," he said. I told him I'd forgive him if he could correct this VERY PAINFUL condition.
It's been about 6 weeks since he put me on Nexium and I was seeing some improvement but I seem to have had a relapse. I'm sure vacation didn't help. I wasn't as careful of what I ate, and I took pain relievers for my headaches, and a sleep aid to help me sleep in the hotel. So I am starting all over with trying to heal my stomach. NO chocolate. My doctor said I didn't have to give it up, but it does seem to irritate it. NO soda. NO milk. And probably no caffeine. I had been drinking iced tea in place of soda but I might see if it will help to give that up too. Oh, and I can't take pain relievers for a couple of weeks. Now that is hard because I get migraines and the last couple of days I have had horrible sinus headaches.
Anyway, I ask for your prayers. The burning in my stomach is excruciating at times and I am praying that I can continue healing with medication and won't have to go in for invasive tests. So I ask for your prayers that I can find a helpful diet and that I can be disciplined in following that diet. Also, I just ask for prayers that I can be free of this pain.

Tomorrow my baby boy turns 15. I will probably do a "boo-hoo" type post for that. My mother warned me not to blink after he was born.....

OPRAH STOLE MY MATERIAL

True Confession Time. I read O magazine. Sometimes. I bought a copy to take on our trip to Boston - airplane reading.
Anyway, this month's issue has an article in it about how married couples are more respectful and courteous to others than they are to their spouses.
I've been saying this for years. I've said to Paul several times "the problem with lots of marriages is the lack of common courtesy." What got me thinking about this? You ask.
Well, years ago at a gathering of my family, I was getting up to go get something - probably more dessert - and I asked Paul if he would like something while I was up. He requested a Coke. When I brought it to him, he said "Thank you honey." My cousin's husband said "Paul is THANKING Heidi for bringing him a Coke!!" Like it was the strangest thing he'd ever heard. This was and is just normal behavior for Paul and me but evidently it was not normal for those around us. So I started listening to couples. And sure enough, in some couples there is just no common courtesy. No pleases, or thank-you's. No excuse me's. No "what can I get for you?"

Now, Paul and I ARE NOT the marriage experts. There are many times where the clod in him rears its ugly head. And there are many times when the shrew in me rears its ugly head. I have a hard time keeping my opinion to myself sometimes about something he has done. I sometimes forget that silence is golden and I just have to let him know....And Paul has a hard time thinking before he speaks (it's ok, he knows this about himself.) Someday I'll let ya'll in on some of his best.....
But. At some point in our relationship we decided that we were not going to treat the cashier at Kroger or the waiter at Applebee's with more respect than we show each other. As a side note: we do try to treat service people VERY kindly because we both grew up with a parent who does not; and it was very embarrassing. Anyway, it's really hard NOT to be courteous to your spouse when he asks if he can get you anything while he's up or when she thanks you for the little things you do. Paul always thanks me when the house has been cleaned and I always thank him for mowing the yard. He is better at all this than I am, though. When I ask him to do anything for me, his standard response is "I'd be happy to." Now how can I top that?

IT'S GOOD TO BE HOME

We returned from Boston on Sunday. It was a good week. Very tiring, though. There is so much to see there and in the surrounding cities that we could have used a few more days.
We were able to catch a Red Sox game, which made the boys quite happy. We also went on a whale watching trip - a 3 hour trip into the ocean to spot whales. We spotted several (hope to post pictures soon) and a mother and her calf made several appearances for us. I can now cross "see the whales" off my life list.
We sat through a witch trial in Salem and our audience voted against history. It was the trial of the first woman to be hanged as a witch. Our audience, however decided (not unanimously) that there was not enough evidence to keep her over for the actual trial.
We also sat in the Old North Church and ate at a great little Italian restaurant reccommended by our first cab driver.
The subway system was fairly easy to navigate and we used it daily. And everyone was extremely friendly. Well, everyone but our 15-year-old son, who basically decided that if we weren't doing exactly what he wanted to do all week, he was going to be downright mean and nasty. The only thing that made him civil was cell phone time with his buddies back home. After talking with some friends who experienced the same thing from their teenagers on vacation we felt a little better; it must be somewhat normal. We only had 2 days left on our trip before I finally ripped into him about his attitude. I thought I held out pretty good.
But all in all it was a great trip.
But I'm glad to be home. I'm glad to be able to cross the street without dodging dozens of cars. I'm glad to walk on our bike path and pass 2 or 3 people instead of 200. I'm glad to be able to run my errands without spending 30 minutes on a train. I'm just a small town girl - Cities are nice places to visit.....
Next year, we have decided it will be a "lay on the beach and do nothing" vacation. It's a big year for our family. I will turn 40, Blake will turn 16, Kayla will turn 13, and Paul and I will celebrate 20 years of marriage. So we are seriously thinking of laying on one of those beaches in Hawaii.

GOIN' TO BEANTOWN

We are all leaving for Boston today for our week of family vacation.
Things we hope to do: Red Sox game, whale watching, the Freedom Trail, Old North Church, Paul Revere's house, Salem, JFK library and museum, Sam Adams Brewery, and all the other great history stuff.
Please pray for our safe travel.

Yesterday three men were severely injured in the plant at the company where my husband works. They all received severe steam burns.
One of the men died last night.
He was not a soldier. Or a firefighter. Or a police officer. And yet sometime yesterday his wife got The Call. It's a call I've feared getting. Not because my husband has a dangerous job. He works behind a desk. But he travels a lot. And every time he gets on a plane I know I face the possibility of getting The Call. Especially since he travels overseas. Like to Peru and Columbia and Pakistan and Brazil and Singapore. And even Great Britain and France and Belgium. Seems no place is safe any more.
But this man had not boarded a plane. He had simply driven to work to do his job in a plant that maufactures sweeteners and other food products. A factory located in central Illinois, surrounded by corn fields and soy beans. And now his wife and the rest of his family are facing a life without him.
And the families of the other men are sitting beside their bedsides waiting and wondering and watching their loved ones suffer.
Please pray for all of these families. Pray for the recovery of the two men who have survived. Pray for the wife and family of the man who lost his life.
And please treasure Today.

IT'S A BLOOMIN' MESS....

THUD. THUD. THUD.
That's me banging my head against the computer screen.
I am trying to create a floral arrangment for my mantle.
When we built our house five years ago, I was lucky enough to find cabinet builders who would also build my mantle (to match my kitchen cupboards). The mantle (or fireplace surround) goes to the ceiling and the designer (a woman) did a beautiful job.
Anyway, I have struggled to find just the right things to set on it. I want something that is beautiful but fairly simple so as not to detract from the beauty of the wood of the mantle piece. I have tried pottery, candlesticks, framed prints (propped, not hung) and they all looked fine, but nothing has taken my breath away. Then I decided what I needed was a floral arrangment. That's it. Just a floral arrangment in the middle with nothing on either side.
I wanted one just like the one I saw in Nashville, Indiana. For 299 dollars. And 99 cents. Didn't get that one.
So happens, Hobby Lobby had floral stems 1/2 off today. So I bought some beautfiul reds and golds (not much green cause I have green walls) I've done arrangements before but never one in so prominent a place so I had put off starting this one.

My mind is picturing exactly what it needs to look like. My hands are not getting the picture. At one point I decided it looked like "Floral designs by Helen Keller."
I have at last decided what the problem is. There's too much. And what was making it "too much?" My favorite of all the flowers I bought today. So when I took out the favorites, the big puffy hydrangea-like ones, it started looking better. I am not ready for the state fair, but I now have hope. It is a work in progress.
Could it be that some of my favorite little things in life are ok by themselves but when put with the rest of it, are just "too much?" Could it be that if I take away just a few favorites, I might find that things will start to look just right?
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It's just a flowery day. Today Kayla received flowers. From her Daddy. Just wishing her good luck in her upcoming softball tournament. Blue carnations and yellow daisies. Team colors.
What woman doesn't love to get flowers???

JUST BITS AND PIECES

We now have two baby robins in our tree that we are keepin an eye on. They should be trying to fly soon - their feathers are getting nice and full.
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Kyle and Mandy are home from Russia with their new son. He is ADORABLE. Very personable and social.
We seem to have lots of little ones close to us now. Our friends with a 0ne-year-old, Kyle and Mandy, and our neighbors with VERY friendly children, ages 5,4, and 18 months. We're kind of in a "been there, done that" phase. They sometimes ask advice about the kids, tell us the different stages they are going through, handle tantrums while we just sit and watch, feeling relieved we are past it all. And I like it. I LOVE being around all these little ones. And I like having a LITTLE bit of knowledge and experience in this area where these families are just getting started. And I miss it. Most of the time.
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I hate seeing my kids hurt. Not only the physical hurt, like a broken bone, or sickness, but especially the kind of hurt that attacks their hearts.
Actually I don't remember Blake hurting in his heart in a way that was brought on by his "friends." Boys just don't do that. They poke and jab - verbally and physically - and then they laugh and move on.
Girls are different. Girls can be nasty. Girls can really hurt with words. And girls remember.
My daughter is hurting in her heart. And the pain is being caused by other girls. All because of a math class. Seems a certain group of girls continues to make a huge deal over the fact that they got into pre-algebra and one in particular asks Kayla every time they see each other if she "made it in." She didn't. Which surprised us, because she's always made A's in math, but that's not the point. She will be in basic math.
So when this happens, I almost turn twelve myself and I just want to ....well, pinch the little snots or something. But I try to think of words to make Kayla feel better. Like, "well, maybe some of them won't be so excited after a couple weeks of the class." Or, "you know, isn't it sad that these girls are choosing to judge others based on ONE CLASS in jr. high. I mean if that's all they have, let them have it." But it doesn't work. Because really, she isn't going to feel better until she gets into the routine of school and realizes that there or lots of great kids in basic math. And when it's not the math issue, it will be another issue with these girls because that's the way they are. That's the way their parents have allowed them or taught them to be. Yeah, I hate to see my children hurt.

WE'RE OUTTA HERE

Kayla is at church camp and Blake is at the U of I for football camp. So Paul and I have a few days without children. Well, tonight we are running Kayla back into town so she can be in her team picture for softball but then right back to camp she will go. So, without having to worry about farming the kids out to friends, we are off tomorrow for a little 3 day get-away.
We are going to Nashville, Indiana. We have friends who have been there and Paul's parents have also gone for a day or two. It's full of shops and historic homes, I guess and I think some musical acts. We are going to stay at a bed and breakfast and just wander around and relax.

We used to go away without children about every 3 months. Believe it or not, it was easier when the kids were younger. Grandma would stay at our house or we'd send them to one of the grandparents and everyone was happy. When my mom stayed with them they lived on Monical's pizza and Fannie May chocolates. And they got to raid the cupboards and make EVERYTHING for which they found a mix - muffins, cake, mac-n-cheese, jello. Paul's folks would take them to the zoo, McDonald's, all over the place. What's not to love?

Now, though, the kids are so busy and hate to leave their friends. They love their grandparents but they now know that neither grandma nor grandpa hung the moon. It is hard work to get things organized to leave when you have to make sure somebody can take Blake to football or wrestling and Kayla to softball or piano. And also, make sure everyone knows the rules - how far can Kayla ride her bike without us? Whose house can Blake be at through the day? Who can be at our house? And that's all fine. This is the phase of life we're in.

So, it has just seemed easier to skip the preliminary work and stay home. But now, we are so excited to be preparing for a few days away this week. Another thing...the kids aren't asking why we're going somewhere without them. They just seem to know now that we get to go have fun sometimes on our own. They also know that they'd be bored out of their skulls on this trip.
So, for those who are interested, I'll give a review of Nashville, Indiana in a few days.

AND NOW I KNOW

I thought the days of my children's births were the most joyous I would experience. And now I know I was wrong. I watched my daughter be baptized today. By her dad. And now I know that the day of my child's REBIRTH is the most joyous I will experience.
As I stood and listened to Paul speak some beautiful words about baptism and about our daughter, and as I watched him first hug her and then lead her into the water, I thought of a photo I keep in the drawer of my night stand. It is just a polaroid taken by an OB nurse minutes after Kayla was born. It is labeled "Baby girl Woolard and Dad." Paul is holding her and looking into her face and it looks like he is talking to her. Thinking of that photo, I realized that Paul held her in the first minutes of her life and now he is lifting her out of the water and holding her in the first minutes of her NEW life.

And now my daughter is my sister.

And I look forward to the journey we will walk together.

DOCTOR DOOLITTLE

Last year a dove built her nest on our wicker porch chair. At the first sign of the nest, Paul threw it away, but the next day it was back and this time bigger and stronger. So we decided she was here to stay. We went about our lives, coming and going through the front door and that bird stayed still as a statue on her nest - on my wicker chair with the beautiful red floral cushions. We watched through the dining room window as the babies hatched and finally grew feathers. We watched them flutter and heard them chirp when mama was out getting food. Finally we saw them become so round and fat, they literally spilled over the edges of the nest (there were two). Still, at night, or during a storm, their mother would manage to squeeze every bit of fat feathered baby under her and cover every inch. Then we noticed the babies on the porch, and then off the porch in the flower beds, returning at night to the chair to sleep. Till finally one day they never returned. It was about this time last year that she raised her family for us to see. We are hoping she will come again and allow us to enjoy the show.

Also, last year, we bottled fed two orphaned kittens. My mom's cat died when they were 2 weeks old. After being rescued from under her neighbor's house, they were divided up between my sister and me (my mom worked and couldn't feed them all day). One of ours quickly got the name "nibbles" because one of his siblings had nibbled part of his ear off in its desperate search for food without mama. We estimate they were without their mother for about 3 days because that's how long the neighbor said they seemed to be crying an unusual amount. Anyway, we bought baby animal formula and fed them with teeny tiny bottles. I put baby food chicken in the milk and they got the cutest fattest tummies on them. I also taught them how to use the bathroom because the vet said the mother would have done that. So I potty trained those two kittens. They learned to walk with us. I set up the guest bath for them and when we were home, after their feedings, they'd toddle around the house and try to play with our labrador who was afraid of them. When they were tired, they'd go to their little box and fall asleep with the little teddy bear we stuck in there for them. Then I'd close the door and wait for the show to begin again in 2 hours. When they were old enough they went back to my mom's because we already have 2 cats and a dog. But, what a great time Kayla and I had with those tiny fur balls.

Now, we are protecting a nest of bunnies in our yard. Long story short - our dog found the nest and sent the babies scattering. We managed to gather them up, wearing gloves, and return them home. Last night we saw the dog staring into the face of one of the babies, about 3 feet from it. This was after Blake mowed over the nest - I had forgotten to warn him about the bunnies. The bunny was on the outside of her electric fence (on the opposite side of the yard as the nest, which is INSIDE the fence) and the dog was on the inside. Later last night, Paul had to get one of the bunnies out of the dog's mouth. The bunny was completely unharmed. So once again, Paul ran around THREE yards collecting bunnies and returning them to the nest. At one point, I promise, a baby bunny sprung right off his shoe, trying to run from him. Funny though, the first time he picked them up, they squealed horribly. The next time, they didn't make a sound. They just seemed calm and scooted right into their hole when he put them at the opening. But when they did squeal, mama bunny appeared from nowhere following that sound.
Now we monitor the dog, who seems fairly depressed about her missed opportunity, and we go outside througout the day and look in the nest and count six little ears. And we watch from the family room window and see the mother stop by a few times a day.

So, I don't know how I'll do as a mother in the end, but I have managed to raise two doves, two kittens, and.... it looks like 3 bunnies successfully.

DECISIONS, DECISIONS...

Ever think about the choices we have at the grocery store today.
Blake had eaten some ice cream at a friend's house and wanted me to look for it at the grocery store - birthday cake ice cream. Evidently it is pieces of cake blended into the ice cream. Couldn't find it. So I decided to try to get something else he might like. That's when the pressure began. Now when I was a kid, our ice cream choices were: chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, or "the kind with all 3 flavors" (Neopolitan) or orange sherbet for my mom.
Now, I find myself reading labels like: mocha almond fudge, peanut butter chocolate, bunny tracks, moose tracks, coffee, chunky monkey, chubby hubby, cookies -n- cream, cookie dough, strawberry cheesecake, girl scout cookie flavors, candy bar flavors.....

The same is true of soda. First, when I was a kid everything was a coke. If you ordered an orange crush, you still said you had gone out for a coke. Anyway, the soda choices were: Pepsi, 7up, root beer or orange crush. Oh and fresca for my dad. Real Women drank Tab, I guess. Now, when I buy soda, or cokes, (which is not real often) and I think the kids might like something different, I see: caffeine free diet pepsi (the same for coke) cherry pepsi, coke with lime, Coke Black, diet cherry vanilla dr. Pepper, orange mt. dew, red mt. dew, rasberry diet rite, white grape diet rite, red 7up.....and the pressure is horrible. So I go home with a case of diet pepsi and a case of mt. dew.

When is enough enough?

OK, here's a parenting question.
When your child messes up - kinda big, but not huge - do you punish him based on that one thing or do you use previous similar acts to sway your judgment, therefore making the punishment harsher?
Since the previous acts (one in particular) was HUGE and had HUGE consequences, do we consider that in our punishment because it is a "pattern" of behavior? Or, since this act is not so huge taken by itself, do we punish based on it?
Ok parenting experts, I'm ready for answers. GO!!!

WHEN HOME WAS NEVER YOUR HOME

We pulled up in front of the house and I said "this feels more like coming home than going to my own mother's". And it is coming home. And I need it sometimes.
I visited my Aunt Rena today. I've mentioned her before. And I've mentioned her husband before - the one who was my dad when my father wouldn't be. The only thing that could have made the visit more perfect today was if Ivan was there (well and my son but he's busy with buddies). But Ivan's gone and so is a small piece of my heart. I can't imagine how big a piece is missing from Aunt Rena's heart.
So I sat at Aunt Rena's kitchen table eating store bought chicken salad on wheat bread, using a paper towel as a plate and thought "this is the best sandwich I've had in a long time." Drinking diet coke from a can, I realized it was better than the two meals I had at a restaurant this weekend. I savored every bite. And every word and every laugh.
As we pulled away down the alley where I used to play "kick the can," I told my husband thanks for stopping; now my weekend was complete. And then I thought all the way home of how my relationship with Rena has changed.
I know she held me in her arms when I was an infant. I know she changed my diapers. I know she watched all my school performances. I know she bought me Christmas and birthday gifts all through my childhood. I know she took me to the beach in the summer and to football games in the fall. I know she taught my Sunday school class and, even when my mom didn't go, I walked the block to church alone just to sit in Sunday school and be with Aunt Rena. I know she flew to Arkansas to watch me graduate from College. I know I wanted her husband to walk me down the aisle, but didn't ask because they would never have taken that away from my father. I know she held my children when they were just days old. I know she prayed for me after my two miscarriages.
I know she took care of me when my parents couldn't or wouldn't. I know she came dangerously close to raising me because of my parents' actions. I know she helped my brothers and sisters and me take care of our mother when we couldn't and shouldn't have had to.
And now I feel almost like her equal; although, I will never be as good as her. I sit across from her and munch on chips and drink diet coke and confide in her and listen to her. I share her humor, I sense her loneliness and I feel her pain. And she senses my frustrations and feels my pain. She says I made her day stopping by. She says I have a wonderful family and calls me a dear niece. She says she loves me. Little does she know that one hour in her kitchen feeds my spirit. Little does she know that I leave her home feeling inspired to be more like her, which is ultimately to be more like Jesus. Little does she know that dropping by her house is like coming home even though it was never home.

IT'S IN THE BAG

Did I tell ya'll about the mother's day gift I got from Paul (well, the kids too)?
It's a beautiful red leather purse. From Herrod's. Of London. I love red accessories and he did REALLY GOOD with this.
When he first started traveling to London, I asked for just a little something from Herrod's - so I could have the Herrod's sack and say "oh, this is from Herrod's." He has brought me a coin purse and a bracelet. He doesn't bring me something everytime. As much as he travels, it would be just too expensive for gifts from every trip. But anyway, after this purse, he will not need to bring me anything for quite a while. Unless of course he REALLY wants to.
The purse is so cool. The strap fits on five different ways so you can carry it however you want. And I really like it.
The only thing is; I'm afraid he has (stealing a line from the movie "Toro, Toro, Toro") "awakened a sleeping giant". I love purses. Handbags. Pocketbooks. Whatever you or your grandma want to call them. Tote bags. Book bags.
I now keep noticing other beautiful purses. Handbags. Pocketbooks. And I have WAY TOO MANY. I have been teased mercilessly for the usually large purses I carry. But the teasing stops right quick when I pull something out of there that somebody needs. Tylenol, hand gel, tampon, kleenex, BABY tylenol. Uh huh. Who's laughing now, miss Barbie purse?
So, I saw a really pretty bag today that was 60% off. SIXTY PERCENT. I thought it would be perfect for the pool. But. I hate the pool. Or more specifically I hate to sweat. That is why I have been jumping for joy that Kayla is now old enough to be dropped off at the pool without me and I don't have to sit by the pool all day this summer. So I did not get the bag. Nor did I try to think of other uses for the bag. I simply left the handbag deparment and went to the shoes. Where I bought red sandals to match that great red purse. From Herrods. Of London.

I am about to step on some toes here, so I apologize. But here is a pet peeve of mine (and my husband's). Picky eaters. It is very difficult to feed a picky eater. Each of my kids has a friend or two who are picky eaters and it is very frustrating to keep them fed while they are in our home.
We have made LOTS of parenting mistakes, so I do not claim to be an expert. But we knew we did not want picky eaters. So, when our kids were little, we encouraged all sorts of taste testing. When they were 3 and 6 we took them to a Chinese buffet and I offered a dime for each food item they put on their plate and tasted. Chinese food became a favorite that day. When my daughter was 4 she started ordering spinach/artichoke dip as her meal at Applebee's, because we had encouraged her to try it once. My son was 6 when he started ordering seafood enchiladas because he had tasted Daddy's; and he has ordered grilled salmon for a few years now, because we encouraged him to try it once. Oh, and they fight over the artichoke hearts in our favorite Italian salad. I didn't know this was a big deal until some friends commented that our kids had "very mature taste buds". Really? We just never assumed they would dislike something.
Now I don't believe in making kids eat something they hate. But I also don't believe in telling them what they'll hate.
This is on my mind because one of the picky eaters is here tonight. She won't eat mac-n-cheese, she won't eat pb&j. SHE WON'T EAT DONUTS!!!! She won't eat spaghetti sauce, or pork chops, or even shaved ice. She won't eat the barbecue meatballs my daughter wanted for supper. She won't eat most of the things that kids love. I have been friends with her mother for years and love this family dearly. But I know that she vetoed LOTS of lunch ideas when the kids were little because "they won't like it." Another friend and I got sneaky one day and while she was ordering her taco at taco bell, after saying her 3 year old would eat at home, we handed him a soft taco and watched him go to town on it. When she came back to the table we just said, "He loves it."She was surprised but thrilled.
See, these picky eaters sometimes expect to be catered to at other people's homes like they are at their own. And that makes it really hard on the host family. It is one thing to have to be careful of somebody's food allergies. That is a matter of safety. But to have to be careful simply because kids haven't tried foods and, therefore, assume they don't like it. Well, that is just frustrating. I just want to scream "Well, what DO you like???"
So, we will either go out for dinner or I will serve our guest a plate of plain spaghetti and a slice of bread. Which seems very unappealing to me.

A NEW PERSPECTIVE

For several years now, summer has meant the end of school and the beginning of a new (temporary) routine for the kids and me. Dropping off and picking up at practices, friends' houses, the pool. Planning a vacation. Cleaning the kitchen 17 times a day. Now Summer is new again. It means a break for me as well.
Today was my last day of work until August 14ish. The college intern starts on Monday.
The 2 Sales Assistants (the only other women in the office) had a bouquet of baby carnations on my desk this morning with a very nice note. One of the brokers bought us Mexican for lunch, and I got to eat in the conference room with "the girls". My boss brought in donuts. A couple of the "grumpy" brokers said they'd miss me and that I really had lightened the work load around the office. Wow. After 8 weeks, I was still having days where I felt like I could not get anything right, and today I walk in and find out that they are actually going to miss me for the next 3 months!! I was blessed today.
Any minute now, the furniture guys are going to deliver our new living room tables that we bought with our tax return. This is one of the few years we have received a return. My husband the CPA has always worked it out so that we break even - no paying, no getting back - so that we can "receive the benefit of all of our money all year long." I am very excited. Also, next week is our anniversary - 19 years - and we usually buy something for the house. I have suggested one of those fire place thingees for our patio.
Tonight we are going to see The DaVinci Code with Pau's co-worker and his wife. I have no desire to see it but in the spirit of fellowship I agreed. Have any of you read the book? Are you planning to see the movie?

A CASTLE IN THE PANTRY

parenting tip: having trouble getting your teenager up for school? call his cell phone. works for us.


Now, it is castle time for our sixth grader. Every year the sixth graders do a medieval unit and they get to build a little castle with moat, murder hole, stable, etc. Blake had to do his alone and I remember helping him wrap little boxes and draw bricks on them.

Kayla gets to work with a partner. So, since Alexis's mom does daycare in her home, our house is the castle house. Yesterday they raided my pantry and fridge for different boxes and containers that would work for the castle. They each ate a cup of yugurt and then dumped 4 other cups in a tupperware container so they could use yougurt cups on the corners of the murder hole and around the wall. Then they emptied 2 boxes of oatmeal into ziploc bags and, after I jotted down the directions, they emptied 6 boxes of Jiffy corn bread mix into small zip lock bags and double bagged them, 3 each into a large ziplock bag, per my instructions. Then they proceeded to paint all the boxes and yogurt cups gray. All of this after I ran to Staples to buy a foam board ( on which the castle will stand, and around which the mote will flow) craft sticks for the draw bridge, tempura paint and a roll of brown craft paper.
So at 5:30 my counter top barely had room for the pizza I ordered because it was still full of the boxes that had not been deemed "castle-worthy". By the way, I am already eager for fall - mainly because the girls dragged out all of my tea and coffee boxes and it made me eager for cold nights in front of the fire place with a steaming cup of something.
But Kayla cleaned the counter, we ate some pizza and headed to the mall to buy shoes and earrings for her spring dance tonight. Thank you, Lord, for Payless. I've gone and blinked again and she is all grown up again for another dance.
Also, my son has twice this week come upstairs and said "mom I've turned out the lights and locked up so you don't have to go back down..." Paul's in London and Blake is really helpful when his dad's gone. Do I really miss the days of bedtime stories and hi-ho cherry-o? Yes.

A "SINUS" OF THE TIMES

Have ya'll bought cold medicine lately? Well, this cloudy damp weather we've been having lately brings on sinus headaches for me. My nose burns like I've inhaled pool water, I have pressure around my eyes and a nagging headache. Over- the- Counter sinus medicines don't usually take the symptoms away; but they take the edge off.

Just a couple of months ago, when you wanted sinus medicine, you had to pick the card off the shelf that coincided with the product you wanted, then take it to the pharmacist. He/she would then hand you the box and you'd pay for it with the rest of your groceries. Now, you have to stand at the pharmacy counter and show them your license, recite your name and address (which is entered into the computer) and sign something stating that you are purchasing a restricted substance. Then you have to pay for the restricted substance at the pharmacy - separate from the rest of your groceries. It is REALLY hard for me to be patient during this. I AM patient during this process, only because I know it is not the fault of the pharmacist that I have to go through all of this just to ALMOST get relief. I really could say something like "excuse me, but I happen to know that my finger prints are on file with the FBI and I believe if there was going to be a problem, I'd know by now. They have, after all, checked my prints THREE times. So you could just give me my box and let me be on my way to the check out." Of course, if the FBI ever does start that extensive criminal check on me, I wonder if I will be listed as a frequent purchaser of Aleve Sinus relief tablets, and what that will do to my reputation.

You know, if they did all that when you bought Brach's chocolate covered peanuts, a Twix bar, or Little Debbie Fudge Brownies, I might break an addiction of my own.

I CHOOSE...

I CHOOSE LOVE...
No occasion justifies hatred; no injustice warrants bitterness. I choose love. Today I will love God and what God loves.
I CHOOSE JOY...
I will invite my God to be the God of circumstance. I will refuse the temptation to be cynical...
The tool of the lazy thinker. I will refuse to see people as anything less than human beings, created by God. I will refuse to see any problem as anything less than an opportunity to see God.
I CHOOSE PEACE...
I will live forgiven. I will forgive so that I may live.
I CHOOSE PATIENCE...
I will overlook the inconveniences of the world. Instead of cursing the one who takes my place, I'll invite him to do so. Rather than complain that the wait is too long, I will thank God for a moment to pray. Instead of clinching my fist at new assignments, I will face them with joy and courage.
I CHOOSE KINDNESS...
I will be kind to the poor, for they are alone. Kind to the rich, for they are afraid. And kind to the unkind, for such is how God has treated me.
I CHOOSE GOODNESS...
I will go without a dollar before I take a dishonest one. I will be overlooked before I will boast. I will confess before I will accuse. I choose goodness.
I CHOOSE FAITHFULNESS...
Today I will keep my promises. My debtors will not regret their trust. My associates will not question my word. My *husband will not question my love. And my children will never fear that their *mother will not come home.
I CHOOSE GENTLENESS...
Nothing is won by force. I choose to be gentle. If I raise my voice, may it be only in praise. If I clench my fist, may it be only in prayer. If I make a demand, may it be only of myself.
I CHOOSE SELF-CONTROL...
I am a spiritual being...After this body is dead, my spirit will soar. I refuse to let what will rot, rule the eternal. I choose self-control. I will be drunk only by joy. I will be impassioned only by my faith. I will be influenced only by God. I will be taught only by Christ. I choose self-control.

Love, Joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. To these I commit my day. If I succeed, I will give thanks. If I fail, I will seek His grace. And then, when this day is done, I will place my head on my pillow and rest.


Max Lucado - "When God Whispers Your Name."
*original - "husband" and "father."

IS THAT PIZZA I SMELL...?

I bought a new comforter set for my bedroom a couple months ago. My quilt was tearing in some spots and it was a long search to find a new set to match my tomato red walls. But I finally found it and I love it. So you'd think I'd be more careful.....

Yesterday was a typical day. Come home from work. Change clothes. Spend 30 minutes cleaning etc. Welcome kids home from school. Then GO!!! It's constant driving back and forth to practices, weight lifting carpool, dropping off at a friend's house that's too far to walk to. Constant answering of the phone to take messages for my busy children (the same thing I do at work, by the way) Constant answering the door to greet visiting friends.

But yesterday Paul was coming home late from a trip to Chicago and I decided that cooking dinner did not sound appealing to me AT ALL. So I pulled out leftover pizza from Sunday night. I even was so mean as to set paper plates on the counter and yell "pizza's done!!" and take mine upstairs to my bedroom where I sat on the bed and watched the news and ate a slice. Halfway through, the phone rang and it was a mom looking for her son...So I get up to go question Blake and when I come back... I can't find my pizza!! Turns out it was under my new throw pillow, which had fallen on it when I got up from the bed. So last night I pulled the covers back and smelled pizza. This morning I made the bed and smelled pizza. It actually is quite a pleasant aroma, but for the bedroom...? I have either hit upon a new romance builder or will be attracting raccoons in the near future. So I am going to try to Febreze it.

GUILT AND GOOFY GIRLS

Why do I feel guilty so easily? I was in line at Wal-Mart this morning before work and I had 3 packs of mini cupcakes from the bakery (for Kayla's slumber party tonight - to be mentioned later) and a man in front of me commented on the fact that I was buying them and not baking them. The ironic thing about this is that I have always been so hard on myself about making everything from scratch and always providing fresh baked items for the kids parties, school functions, etc. I have always insisted on making a couple of dishes for potlucks no matter how busy we are, even when Paul says "let's just pick something up at the deli..."Recently, though, I decided that PRESENTATION IS EVERYTHING. If you take some store-bought cookies, salad, whatever, and put it in a beautiful basket or dish - it goes a long way in making up for the fact that you didn't actually make it. So today I felt very tempted to justify my lapse by explaining that "really I usually bake but it's been a really busy week." Instead I just said, "yep, I picked these up myself right over there in the bakery."
Tonight is Blake's wrestling potluck and I had told him I would bring a gooey butter cake - a favorite family recipe that is just a little complicated because the batter is real thick and hard to mix. Well, I only have 3 eggs and it calls for 4 so I made no-bake cookies instead. Of course, Blake commented that "it really doesn't matter, I guess, but you DID SAY that you'd make butter cake..."And he said it as though he was saying. "Don't worry about me, I just haven't eaten in 6 days and I'm weak with hunger..." So what I was thinking was "is nothing ever good enough..?" Guilt
We got the note about the wrestling banquet after we had planned Kayla's slumber party. So here's the quirky thing. I am going to the wrestling banquet and Paul is taking the girls to the movie and to eat at the mall. People seemed surprised that we are "reversing gender roles." But I told Paul if there is any chance at all that Blake may get an award, or even have something great said about him, then I, as his mother, have to be there to be weepy. He could not argue with that kind of maternal manipulation. Besides I think the banquet will be more relaxing than "Scary Movie 4."
Girls are giggly and loud when two or more are together. Boys (at least here) seem to just settle in front of the video games and appear every two hours to eat the cupboards bare. Occasionally I hear things like "dude...I'm gonna kick your butt." That's it. With the girls, it is opposite, occasionally I hear a brief period of silence and start thinking that thing you think with toddlers "if you can't hear them, you better find them." Usually, with girls, I hear lots of giggles, squealing, and just really LOUD talking. GOOFY GIRLS.

YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME...

I am this close to having an "extensive criminal check" done on me.

Here's the thing. When I started my new job, I had to be finger printed. So I drive downtown to the county sheriff's office (where parking is horrible) and get that done. A week later, my boss comes to my desk with a note saying the FBI had refused my prints as "illegible" and I would have to go again. So I head back downtown and get printed again by the same nice young detective. The next day as I was turning the card in to my boss, I realized the nice young detective had not signed the form. Back downtown I go to get the signature. I was so relieved to get that mailed off and over.
Well, yesterday we received another note saying my prints had been rejected by the FBI as "illegible." I must get another set of fingerprints made and then if those come back unacceptable, an extensive criminal check will begin on me. By the way that black ink really is nasty and the "orange goo" they use to get it off is real gritty and stay under your nails all day...
Also, I have been to the sheriff's office so often, people probably think I am checking in with my parole officer. The detective asked if I wanted to wash my hands today and I just said "oh, I know where the ladies room is, thanks...."
Now, I understand the need for security at a brokerage firm. I understand the need to be cautious. But I work 4 hours a day answering the phone and filing the brokers' backlog of statements. I am a part time receptionist and my mantra regarding sensitive information is "I know nothing..." You know, like that german soldier in "Hogan's Heroes." I cannot give quotes over the phone. My computer does not allow me to access the quote screen. Fine with me. I cannot handle client checks. Fine with me. I am just starting to wonder what all the fuss is about with this fingerprinting and the possibility of a criminal background check (an EXTENSIVE one even) for a PART TIME RECEPTIONIST!!!!!

Oh, also today, I think I might have been sexually harassed. A client asked me how the weather was in Decatur and then proceeded to suggest I get off early to go lay in the sun in my bikini.
What I WANTED to say was:
1. Sir, you obviously have never seen me in person, or you would not even think bikini when talking to me.
2. By the way you sound about my grandpa's age.
3. You must be a HUGE client here to think you can talk like that - but it's just wrong no matter how much stock you own.
What I said was "what broker did you need to speak to sir?"

It's not that I had a bad day or anything. I'm just sayin'....

TO A BROWN EYED GIRL

Happy Birthday Kayla.
Twelve years ago today you entered my world on tears of pure joy and relief. After suffering two miscarriages before you, it seems I didn't breathe for nine months until I heard the doctor say, "it's a girl!!!" I had myself convinced that I didn't care if you were a boy or a girl. In fact, I just knew you'd be a boy and your name was going to be Nathan James. After hearing those magic words "it's a girl," I realized that I really had wished for a girl all along. What a moment!!

You showed your independence early - refusing to nurse at 6 months because you were too busy looking at your world - refusing to let anybody feed you at 8 months; I had to cook veggies and chop them so you could feed yourself - refusing to eat your 1st birthday cake until we put a spoon in each hand. You crawled at 6 months, walked at 10 months, poured cooking oil on the floor at 12 months, opened tooth paste at 13 months, started following Blake around at about 14 months, yelling "and me" so you wouldn't be left out. You wrote your name at 3 1/2 and started reading simple words at 4 1/2. Your favorite phrase to me was "I do it." Tim C. always said you had a huge belly laugh for such a little girl. And you did.

You have always been thoughtful - always putting the first gift under the Christmas tree, always reminding us to buy cards and gifts for Blake's birthday, father's day, mother's day. You always knew when library books were due, or when the movies had to go back to the rental place.

You taught me the true meaning of "breath-taking." I used to stand over your crib while you slept; and when I looked at your ringlets (yes, you had curls) around your Gerber baby face, I literally forgot to breathe. And always the same words escaped my lips..."Thank you God."

It's been a joyful dozen years, Kayla Beth. Happy Birthday.

I love you.

EASY AS A,B,C...

Do any of you out there go through batteries like my family does? Seems we are always looking for a battery, despite our little storage bin that we keep for just that purpose. I blame our batter operated lifestyle on the kids, you know. Walk-man, game boy, etc. Of course there are the recent storms that have made us careful to have working flashlights handy.
Well, Paul turned 40 last week and he got the coolest gift from Menard's. Yes, Menard's. Seems if you have a Menard's card you get a coupon for a neat gift every year. This year it is a great battery organizer with a charge checker on top. It holds several batteries in all sizes - D,C,AA,AAA, and 9V. He hung it in the utility room and was calling out to Kayla how many of each size he would need to completely fill it. I heard him say "3 double A's, 4 C's, 2D's...." I couldn't resist asking if they were buying batteries or bras. Kayla lost herself in giggles.
Anyway, this is a really neat little gadget they gave us and we now feel like there is one tiny little corner of our world that is quite organized. And if you want one of these thingys, they are 9.99 without the birthday coupon.

I HAVE A JOB...OR DOES THE JOB HAVE ME?

Those of you who heard the sermon at Northside on Sunday morning, can hopefully understand where I'm coming from on this. I couldn't really think of something I've been putting on a pedestal above God - as far as things I enjoy. I know there are things, they just weren't coming to mind. Probably because I have been allowing myself to worry too much about this new job.
I've decided that just as our pleasures can come before God, so can our worries.
I've allowed myself to worry about the adjustment period of this job - that time of learning and fumbling through the day that comes with each new job. I've worried about cutting off the clients and brokers on the "golden list"- people who must be put through on the phone NO MATTER WHAT. I've worried about not adapting well to the computer. I've worried about being accepted by the other secretaries. I've worried about the adjustment at home.
After hearing Gary's message, I realized that all those things are insignificant compared to God's love for me, and my hope of Heaven, and the countless blessings He has given me and the sacrifices He has made for me. Those mistakes, when I make them, are rubbish, dung, caw-caw. I doubt any of my mistakes are going to cost a client money. And I KNOW they are not going to affect my salvation (my college roommate's favorite saying - "not gonna affect my salvation.")
I also realized that I was not giving God the true glory He deserved for this job. By worrying and fretting, I have not allowed myself to fully enjoy this blessing. Here's what I used to say about going back to work:
If only a job would just fall in my lap...check.
I'd like to find an office job at a small company, not a lot of stress to bring home, maybe just reception work...check.
Part time would be ideal, with Paul's travel....check
Wouldn't it be great to get summers off, but then I'd have to work at the school, wouldn't I...check.
I AM grateful. I have asked the Good Lord several times what I ever did to deserve this ideal job. I finally realized over the weekend that I wasn't working this job - I was allowing the job to work me. It had me in the grips of worry and self doubt. I guess my self confidence took quite a beating over the past 15 years raising these kids of mine. So now when I make a mistake, I will tell myself: "they need me here," "not gonna affect my salvation," and the most beautiful of all....."it's caw caw."

It feels kinda' weird - this job thing. I like it and all, but I'm surprised at how strange it feels to have this change after 15 years. Every evening something just dawns on me, "oh yeah. I go to work in the morning."

My first day was really long and boring. I spent most of the 4 hours filling out paper work and reading manuals. Since I am working for a stock brokers' office, there is pretty tight security with new hires so the paper work was pretty lengthy. I just finished it up this afternoon with my boss. I really prayed last night that today would be better - more exciting. I finally got my phone at 2:00 this afternoon. I get off at 2:00. But I answered and successfully transferred 2 calls before I left so I at least feel like I can go in tomorrow knowing that I will have work to do. There is going to be so much to learn and I really don't want to feel stupid so I have been praying that I learn quickly, that the staff is patient, and that I feel confident in myself.

I had to report for my drug screen yesterday afternoon. Ok, I usually cannot go 1 hour without visiting the restroom. So I sauntered on back knowing that this was one thing I could excel at. WRONG. It took me 3 tries to give a big enough sample. I had to drink 2 glasses of nasty tasting water. The lab tech was very nice ( I am there a few times a year for blood work so we kind of know each other) and said she's had people take 2 or 3 HOURS before. Finally I knew my kids were getting off the bus so I made myself perform. I felt like a toddler being potty trained, I was so relieved to fill that cup.
Do all of you know exactly where your original SS card is? I thought I did, but when my boss said he needed it to confirm my ID (strict security) I couldn't find it. So I had to go get a copy of my birth certificate instead. I did that before I was finger printed at the sheriff's office. That was fun too. But they have this ORANGE GOOP to clean your hands. If you have boys, you need orange goop. It was magic.

So tomorrow, I think I get to sit at my own desk and start learning my job. Please pray for me - that I will stop being nervous and will feel confident in what I'm doing. And keep checking. I'll probably have some good stories over the next few days. No inside information, though.

The words that struck fear in my heart...

Mom, I want to do summer wrestling. NOOOOOOO! Congratulations wrestling, you have replaced baseball as my least favorite sport to watch - except for 9-12 minutes out of a 9 hour meet. I even told Blake I may not go to all the meets. I can't believe I said that. I always go to my kids things and act as their biggest cheerleader. But summer wrestling? An un-air conditioned gym with 300 spectators and 15o sweaty wrestlers in the middle of July? Well...you go once and then see if you judge me.

I would go to every meet and love it if they went something like this:

Sign in. "Oh, the Woolards. I hear Blake is one of the best wrestlers out there. And quite a handsome man. And is this Kayla? I know she is the up and coming softball pitcher to look out for and even prettier then my own daughter. And is this Mrs. Woolard or your older sister? Mrs. Woolard, have you lost weight?" Then somebody would PAY ME for going in to watch.

Notice Rules Board.
1. No cussing. If you need a thesaurus, ask. But please expand your vocabulary.
2. No making your kids feel lousy. Anybody caught doing this will be made to wrestle that really big coach from the team in the yellow and black uniforms.
3. No yelling "down in front!" Look around you remember where you are.
4. No saving a whole row of seats. You are not in 7th grade anymore.
5. Leave your babies at home. We love babies but they are miserable here. If you need child care, see Mrs. Woolard.

Meet nicely dressed college prep - type guide and listen to him/her say "Welcome, here is your pager. It reaches to the Wal-Mart on this side of the gym or the Target on that side. We will page you exactly 22 minutes before your son wrestles. Both stores offer 20% discounts to wrestling moms. If you choose not to leave the building, please enjoy our mothers' lounge. There you will find 3 years worth of People magazine and 2 big screen televisions. One will be showing Dr. Phil all day and the other will be showing Denzel Washington movies. Except Man On Fire because we don't like him so sad and haunted. Oh, and that Mrs. Fields counter over there - it's free. At noon we will bring you a chicken salad on croissant and a diet pepsi in a styrofoam cup with crused ice. Also, our starbucks opens at 9:00. It's also free. If you decide to take a nap, just dial 9 on the phone and leave instructions for a wake-up call. Any questions? Well, I know your son will win. And did I mention how thin you look?"

See? It could all be so simple....

these boots weren't made for running...

Is it true that if your feet stay cold and wet, then you'll catch a cold? If so, I will be sniffling until July. My feet have been cold and wet for two days. Wanna know why? Cause I delivered papers in the blizzard.
On the day of the blizzard I war my new snow boots. I bought them late in the season (50% off!) and also bought Blake some because his old boots are a size 9 and he is wearing a 14 now. I also bought Kayla some because....well, we found some cute ones on sale for her too. Anyway, mine are realy cute - Land's End, suede, mid calf length, and they zip up the back (not quite so handy after all) But they are comfy and look pretty good with my pants tucked into them on a snowy day. But. They are not made for running. I wore them in the blizzard, and the day after for the paper route, and I ran alot to get done quickly. Well, yesterday I noticed a big blister on my heel. By last night it had popped and my sock was sticking to it. So yesterday and today I had to wear my tennis shoes, which left my feet cold and wet. It still hurts to walk - I am kind of walking like this: step, ow, step, ow, step, ow. Today I did no running; not necessarily because of the pain but because I noticed Blake wasn't running. Well, if this 14 year old athlete doesn't have to run then his 39 year old mother who has a blister on her heel doesn't have to run either.
So there. And the good news is....Paul gets home tonight and I don't intend to get up for this paper route tomorrow or the next day. No Alarm clock. As my mom used to say on Friday nights "tomorrow morning, I'm gonna sleep 'til I wake up!"

I kinda just want to eat my dinner and go.....

Kayla and I just ate and Texas Roadhouse and my cheeks hurt from smiling and being polite to the wait staff for an hour.
See, when Paul travels, I usually take the kids to dinner one night. Well, Blake could not squeeze us into his schedule so it was just us girls and Kayla picked roadhouse. I know I'm getting old because I think that place is just too loud. Anyway, we walk in and the kid gets the rolls and then I know the script. He will lead us to our table and while he is walking he will turn backward(which, by the way, could be dangerous) toward us and ask "Have you been here before?" I wonder what would happen if I said NO. Would he stop and scream "Hey everybody we have a first timer."? Would I get my meal for free? Would we be hazed in some way. So when we say YES he will say "welcome back."
Thank you, I'll say. Then the waitress will come and say "Have you been here before?" Yes. "Great. Then you know about our homemade bread, our salads, homemade dressing, our steaks, and our fall- off- the- bone ribs...?" Yep. Know all about that. "Ok then, can I get you a drink from the bar?" (Well, if this questioning keeps up, probably) No, just iced tea and a diet pepsi. "Ok, then how about an onion blossom?" No, thanks.
I know, I know. They are just trying to be nice. But really, don't most of us know how to behave in a restaurant? Don't most of us know to look at the menu and let them know if we want an appetizer? Aren't most of us smart enough to order the drink we want without being reminded there is a bar in the restuarant? I mean, I have never heard a person, when asked if they'd like a drink from the bar, respond with "oh my gosh, you have a bar here? I had no idea. Thank goodness you told me. Yes, please bring me a cocktail!" It just seems like such an effort to be polite and keep smiling when it takes 15 minutes just to get to the point of giving our order. Even Kayla said about the waitress "she is really perky!"
And it's not just restaurants. Seems you can't make a purchase anywhere without being asked "do you have our rewards card?" "Would you like to sign up?" "Would you like to receive a free subscription to....?" "Would you like a special low interest Visa to save even more at Sears?"
Arrgggggh!! I just want to give you my money and take my purchases home and hear somebody say "ya'll have a good day." Simple as that.

Kayla has been invited to go to Harding's Spring Sing. A wonderful young woman at church has invited her. My first thought was that she'd get bored for three days with nobody else there who is her age. Now we have found out that some friends from here in town are also going.
Here's the thing. I dread letting her go. I totally trust the person taking her and I know she will have the time of her life. It just seems that about six weeks ago she started having the same busy social life as Blake. I'm not trying to hold her back. It just seems to have snuck up on me and said "Boo!!" - this growing up thing she has done. For a couple years it was just a way of life - that Blake was on the go all the time and Kayla was home being the little sister that never got to do anything. Now. Whammy!! She's on the go too. She has always loved to go places and spend the night. When she was 4, she stayed with my mom for a night. Well, it started out for one night but she called about 6 times in one evening trying to expand her visit. I finally said "put Grandma on the phone." So I told my mom that she should quit letting Kayla call me - it was running up her phone bill. Grandma said "I didn't know she'd been calling you...." Yes, Kayla had learned her phone number and used it quite nicely to turn her one night trip to Grandmas into 3 nights. So I know she will have a great time. I took a poll at lunch today and my two best friends said let her go. So I guess we will. She will be gone on Easter Morning, but she doesn't seem to mind that. She will turn 12 two days after she gets home. She doesn't seem to mind that either.

get your mind out of the gutter....

OK. First let me say that my son's science teacher is a pretty sweet young woman. I came to this conclusion last summer when she was my son's chaperone on a 4 day trip to Washington D.C. with about 50 jr. high students. She happened to get the group of kids (about 12) who got stuck in Chicago overnight on the way home. They were broken into 3 travel groups and they came back on 3 separate flights. Wouldn't you know my son was one that got the extra night away. This poor woman looked as though she had been through a war zone when she got off the plane. She was exhausted. But she was very complimentary of the kids and said how patient and repsectful they were and how they handled all the mishaps with great attitudes. The kids were just coming down from some sort of caffeine/sugar high. Seems they discovered Starbucks in the airport and decided to use the last of their money buying one frappucino after another. So Mrs. C has earned my respect and admiration.

That is why it has been hard for me to confront her on a couple of issues. First my son wore a sweatshirt to school that said "one night at fight camp..." it is a wrestling sweatshirt. He came home and said she told him not to wear it again. So when I asked her about it she said that the phrase "one night at band camp..." comes from the movie "American Pie" ( I think) and it refers to something sexual. Well, we didn't know that and I really believe Blake didn't know that. So we won't let him wear that anymore. Now Blake has come home and said he got in trouble for naming his paper airplane, which was a science class project, "The Pocket Rocket." She told him he could either write an essay on the inappropriate nature or...something else...I can't remember. He said, "Mrs. C I don't know why it's wrong. It's the name of an actual motorcyle on the market - a mini bike for kids." So she dropped it.

Now I don't fight battles my kids don't want me to fight, but Blake feels wrongly accused and I don't blame him. So I have printed off a picture of the "Pocket Rocket" motor bike and enclosed it with a (hopefully) very respectful letter to assure her that it is a legitimate product and his name for his little airplane came from just innocently copying from that. Maybe he is in violation of copyright laws but I don't think his mind was in the gutter.

I am not naive enough to think that teenage boys don't love potty talk. But in this case I think Blake was misjudged. When he first told me about this I thought "well, she needs to get her mind out of the gutter and stop assuming everybody else's is there too." But I'm sure dealing with jr. high kids on a daily basis can make one pretty cynical on occasion. So I don't want to judge her too harshly either.


So that's that.
Now to my favorite world traveler; I hope you are having a good trip. We miss you. Our circle doesn't quite close when you are gone....

If you don't have anything nice to say.....

I am not going to blog today.
Because I don't have anything real nice to say and I think I would complain too much. So I am not going to blog.
If I did blog today I would probably tell everybody:

I got a new job yesterday after 15 years as a stay-at-home mom and my husband was flying across the ocean and couldn't share the excitement/fear with me. I don't blame him at all but I sometimes get really tired of dealing with life's big deals (and little deals) alone.

I delivered papers in a blizzard today and disappointed my son because we were 30 minutes late. Later I found out the office left a recording on their line telling customers the paper may not come at all. You mean I didn't HAVE to get out in this weather? I didn't even have to pull out of my driveway, let alone drive those country roads? So, paper customers...since you really didn't have to get a paper at all today, let's see some big TIPS on next month's statement!

I drove into somebody's yard today because I thought their circle drive was smaller than it is and I couldn't see a thing. I really hope the snow and wind picked up after that to cover my tracks. Of course, it was the home of the "hot girl from Warrensburg" who Blake talks to on the phone. So I guess if you have tire tracks in your yard you can ignore that TIPS comment.

Note: the preceding two items occurred before dawn today.

I talked to my mom last night and she shot about 12 verbal poison darts at me for not contacting her over the weekend. I gave a baby shower for 70 people on Saturday and spent most of Sunday in Bloomington (the best part of my week) and my husband left for London yesterday so I kind of wanted some time with him. But no matter how many times I apologized and she said "oh, it's ok..." she kept coming back to the fact that none of her four kids called, she didn't come to Decatur because I didn't return her call, blah, blah, blah. I have 2 brothers and a sister. I say spread the guilt evenly.

I bought new work clothes yesterday and beat myself up because they weren't the size 4 or 6 I wore when Kayla was 2. I am on 2 medications that have made me gain weight but, believe me that side effect is better than the problem. I have 2 friends who went off one of these meds because of the side effect. Fine, be miserable. At least I feel good everyday. But there is still that wistfulness......And shame on me for letting it matter.

My house is a wreck.

So, I am not going to blog today because that is all I would talk about and none of it is really positive.

They like me. They REALLY like me....

Well to those of you who read this blog (yes, both of you) - thanks for your thoughts and prayers regarding my job interview. I was offered the job and I will start on Monday. He wanted me to start at the end of the week, I think, but I told him I had some loose ends to tie up. What I really meant was that I need to get my hair colored and go shoe shopping.
I have to be finger printed and drug tested next week. I also have to get my references sent to him.
My husband is on his way to London. It's kind of lonely coming home with such news and have nobody to share it with. But at the same time, I haven't felt this validated in a LONG time. My husband is tremendously supportive and respectful of me, but I guess to feel valued by somebody else just feels a little better than it probably should.
So. I will be hanging up the blue jeans and sweat suits and tennis shoes and looking for some professional attire. Frankly, I kind of dread it. I'm not a fan of skimpy and tight so it may be a little tough to find something that does not look like something my mother would wear.

On the bummer side of life - We might be getting a snow storm tonight. That is good if you are sleeping in and missing school. But we have a paper route. This will be our first time to run the route in bad snowy weather. Blake has given his notice, though, so we only have a couple more weeks. So, if we are snowed in tomorrow (after throwing papers) I will spend the time cleaning out my closet. That could turn into a week-long series so keep checking in.

Ok, you know those people at funeral homes who tell you where to park your car and direct you inside and tell you where to stand, when to blow your nose, etc....Well, do ya'll think they get paid extra to be snotty?
We had a man yesterday at the funeral of Paul's grandma who was downright rude to us. He ran up as soon as we pulled up and said "Grandchild?" "yes." "Well, then you need to park in the driveway." No we could not leave the van at the end of the driveway or move it after going in to let Paul's parents know we were there. It had to be moved NOW. When Paul asked if this really had to be so complicated the man said "yes it does sir, we have people to get to the cemetery." And he wasn't polite about it. I told Paul later he should have broken down right there in a sobbing heap and started wailing about his poor lost grandma. I say families pay these folks alot of money to bury their loved ones; these people should be willing to dress up and come jumping out of our cars like so many clowns in a circus act.
I know, I know.. not all of them are like that but some of them are so uptight; they act as though the funeral has to be run like the academy awards - when you hear the music you must stop your crying and exit stage right.

Also, we got a call from Blake's paper supervisor today. Seems we missed a customer the other day. Yes it was on the sheet the next day "customer found no paper." But this customer warrants a separate call because he is the publisher of the paper. Something does not seem right here. If he is the publisher of the paper and works at the office; when he misses a paper, do we really need to take him one the next day or COULD HE PICK ONE UP AT THE OFFICE WHEN HE SHOWS UP FOR WORK?????? So the supervisor says to be sure and leave this guy a paper because after all he is the publisher. Well, we are an equal opportunity family and he is no more important to us than our family dentist, or our home builder, or Blake's math teacher, or the 95 other customers to whom we deliver (and who have no access to a hundred free papers at their places of work)

So...a couple people have irritated me a little bit these last couple of days.

COLOR ME LUCKY

Here is my cell phone conversation with Paul from yesterday:

H: Hi. I am at Dollar Tree and they don't have the napkins I need for the shower and I won't be home in time for the kids if I run to the party store. Can we stop by the party store on our way out of town?
P:Sure. But I'd be glad to stop by and get what you need as I pass it after work.
H:Great. Write this down. I need a pack of luncheon napkins in green - think John Deere Tractors. And a pack of luncheon napkins in yellow...
P:what should I think in yellow...?
H: Sunflowers. And a pack of beverage napkins each in the same green and yellow. Also, beverage napkins in blue - Navy blue. Not trojan blue*. Also, beverage napkins in red.
P:(jotting things down ) Noooot trojjjjjjan bluuuue. Naavy. Now for the red, just red...?
H:Yeah, just red. Thanks. I love you.

30 minutes later at home:

P:I am at the Party store and I am having napkin issues.
H:well, then forget it, honey, I'll do it tomorrow, no big deal.
P:No, it's fine. They don't have any John Deere or Sunflower napkins in luncheon size, they only have dinner size. They are a total of 2 inches bigger.
H:That's fine. Get those.
P: Do you know HOW MANY colors of napkins and table covers they have at this store?
H: yeah, isn't it fun.....? That's why I had to say John Deere and Sunflower....

*Trojan blue is royal blue. Trojan is our school mascot. Could we have a WORSE name? We are actually the MF Trojans.

So this is the kind of guy I have. I occasionally ask God why I was blessed with him. Whatever I did to deserve him, I'm tickled pink.

Yikes! Maybe this job interview thing isn't such a good idea. I'm working on my resume and it is hard to make 15 years of raising children sound impressive to most of society.

My career pre-children was pretty exciting. I was responsible for the care-plans and admission records of 127 mentally ill residents - most of them schizophrenic. I made it through state inspections from the Department of Public Aid and Department of Public Health. I butted heads with my boss daily if all 127 beds were not occupied. No resident- no state payment you know. She had never heard the old "can't get blood from a turnip" thing I guess. If there is no mentally ill person needing our services out there today, then where should I find one...? Anyway, I really liked that job most of the time. My field work for college was in the VA hospital in Little Rock. I worked in the Primary Care Clinic and the Oncology clinic. So I HAVE done important adult work in my life. But now...

Most people aren't interested in the daily grind of life for a homemaker and mom. You know,
balancing two sick kids on the day you are responsible for organizing and serving lunch for 60 school staff members and your husband is in Toronto. Or sending one kid in for surgery to finalize the repair of his broken finger, the day after the other kid breaks hers on the softball field - while your husband is in London. Two kids with casts on their hands at the same time looks a little suspicious - but anyway...
How about feeding and controlling six hungry 13&14 year old football players after practice LOTS of times (try walking into Blake's bedroom when they are all in there before their showers......whew!)
How about driving a van load of kids EVERYWHERE because your house is the kool-aid house and it just seems natural now that every seat will be full. ( Has NOBODY thought of putting a sound proof shield between the front and back seats??? Are none of those engineers parents?)
How about being called at 11:30 one day and hearing "Mrs. Woolard, Mrs. Beal's class has no Valentine Party organized for TODAY at 1:00 - could you throw something together and come in...?" Now that's organized AND brave.
How about french braiding 4 girls' hair in 15 minutes because they had to look alike for their volleyball game. Now that's staying calm under pressure.
But all this - as all mom's know is hard to put down on paper. You just gotta live it. And I know it's not just stay-at-home moms who juggle and struggle. Working moms have it worse I'm sure. I have just finally come to that point in my life where I really feel like I have to justify the last 15 years of my life. That's hard to do on a one page resume.
I wonder if they'd like to see my photo albums..........

This road we call life...

I loved High School. I got straight A's. I had lots of friends. The teachers liked me. I had a social life. Every week in senior calculus, my friend Janie would pass me the same note -
"Are you going to the game Friday? Want to do something afterward?" And then we'd make our plans, either to ride the fan bus to the away game or to meet for the home game. Basketball or Football. It didn't matter. Just so we met and spent the evening with our group of friends. Living in a home with a clinically depressed single mother, school was my safe haven. My place to be what I was supposed to be - a teenager with lots of potential. At home, I was often the parent, the youngest of four kids who had the responsibility of being my mom's companion and making sure things were always ok. I still carry that responsibility, but that's another blog.

I was reminded of my love of high school this weekend at that state basketball tournament. The student section was awesome. Some students gave up their seats on the floor to move to the top section to sit with other kids. They were great. There was every imaginable combination of blue and yellow clothing, hair color, jewelry, socks, shoes. They were all just thrilled to be there showing their support and enthusiasm - and individuality. They were truly just delighting in the happiness of being together. What else was there that weekend? Nothing. Nothing but their perfect teenage world.

Then on the way home Friday night, we got a call from Paul's parents. His grandmother was dying. So we fed the kids and got them settled with friends and drove to Pana to sit with his parents in the hospital by Grandma's bed. We had gone from the breathless, giddy joy of youth to the dying breaths of a precious 95-year old mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. We stayed for a couple hours and were told to go on home - nothing we could do. We offered to send our kids to the tournament the next day with friends and come back to spend the day on Saturday. No, his parents said. Enjoy the day with your family. There's not a thing you can do and you need this time with your kids. We enjoyed our day with the kids and on the way home at about 8:30 last night the cell phone rang. We knew. Grandma had passed at 7:17. I know one thing for certain. My mother and father in-law decided not to call when they knew we were in that stadium. They had decided not to call and take away Paul's joy of the moment. They were very SELFLESS in that. One other thing I know for certain. My mother would not have given me that gift. She would have made sure the sadness and misery were spread as soon as she had them in her hands. I will always appreciate my in-laws for that; for thinking of Paul and for loving him enough to allow him every last drop of joy before flooding him with the sadness that we knew was coming. And now, after canceling a business trip to Belgium, Paul will be their pillar. I know he will. That's just the kind of man he is. I hope I can be his pillar.

What's with this unity thing, anyway...

It's everywhere in our little community. All generations - preschoolers to grandparents. People are missing work for it; school has been cancelled for it. Tears have been shed over it.
You know...School Pride.
We head to the state tournament tomorrow. Another check written for tickets, more money sent to school for yet another "school spirit" t-shirt. Fresh yellow and blue ribbons bought for the braids the girls will wear. Vans all over town with their windows painted with our school colors, favorite players' numbers, basketballs, megaphones. You know, all united for the cause.

Why isn't it that way for the Church? I don't know how many times in the last 18 months I've been asked "isn't that the church that....?"
You know, some churches have praise teams, some have a song leader. Some sing songs 300 years old, some sing songs 3 years old. Some let women pass the plates, some let women only work in nursery. In some, a man never sets foot in the nursery unless it's to serve communion. We interpret the scripture this way, they interpret the same scripture that way. Our kids wear jeans to morning services, only "church" clothes allowed in others.
All the differences aren't a problem until....we judge each other and declare each other wrong.

How can so many of us - all from different economic, religious, educational backgrounds come together to support a basketball team, when only a small portion of us even have a child on the squad? Because we want to show our school spirit, our community pride. We want to show that we support what this coach and these students have done.

But, even those of us who are huddled under the same umbrella of church names, can't unite for The Cause. The cause of Jesus - showing Him, living Him, being Him. So what's with this unity thing anyway and why can't we get it right?

A HISTORY OF MY THEOLOGICAL DISCUSSIONS WITH BLAKE

note: I eventually answered all of these questions, I am recording here my first response...

Blake (age 3): Mommy, those men who nailed Jesus to the cross....will they be in Heaven?
Mommy: UHHHH

Blake (age 4):Mommy, you do know that Daddy can NEVER fall in love with another woman...?
Michael (his 4 year old friend): Yeah, cauth thath, adultewy and that'th a thin.....
Mommy: what have you two been talking about in pre-school anyway....?

Blake (with hands on hips, age 6): Mom, if drinking alcohol is wrong for some people, why did Jesus turn water into wine at that wedding....?
Mommy:UHHHHH

Blake(age 8ish) Mom, what kind of girl will I marry?
Mom: I hope you marry someone who loves Jesus as much as we do.
Blake: well, yeah...I'm not gonna marry a girl who prays to a gold cow like those people with Moses.

Blake(age 8ish again after a sermon on gambling...yes gambling): Now, what are we gonna tell Grandma about those lottery tickets she buys...?
Mom: giggle, giggle

Blake (age 14 1/2): Mom, do you believe God made everything? I mean everything in nature...trees, plants, animals?
Mom: yes, I do Blake.
Blake: then, what possible reason could he have had for creating marijuana?
Mom(somewhat smugly because she thinks she knows this one): well, marijuana has some medicinal purposes, such as fighting nausea in chemo therapy patients. It probably started out as something to help us and like so many things God made for us, once man got hold of it, it was abused.
Blake: ok, what about tobacco....?
Mom:I KNOW I had some chapstick in my purse.......

another priceless moment

It happened again last night. Strange how so many of my happy times seem to occur at a sporting event. I AM NOT IN THE LEAST BIT ATHLETIC. But you go where the kids go at this phase in life so....

We were in Bloomington last night to watch our varsity team WIN the super sectional game. We now advance to state. Because of the way the tickets were sold, we had to sit as a family. Kayla was not with the "sixth grade rowdies" and Blake was not in his usualy front row spot with all of his buddies. We ate dinner out first and then sat as a family. The kids not only tolerated us, they seemed to enjoy us. I could tell that Paul and Blake were having a great time together and Kayla even "high-fived" me as we won in the last second. She did, however, have to instruct me when to sit down and when to stand up so that I would not embarrass her ( I guess she assumed I was off duty in that regard in my job as mom) so I did my best to follow directions. I could hear my friend behind me getting similar instructins from her daughter "uh, mom, you need to, like, stop jumping...."
Anyway, for the game on Friday, Blake got smart and found a way to get a ticket in the student section - no adults. And Kayla has asked to bring a friend. She will sit with us but will not have to acknowledge us except to ask for money and perhaps to give me the sit or stand command. That's ok. That means I can sit by Paul and gently admonish him to stay calm.

Yes, Paul got rowdy last night and yelled at the refs; something about how they were making each other look like fools out there. I told him he was close enough to the floor that they could eject him. Now Paul is a very gentle man who is kind and tolerant and patient....but something about a bad call at a game brings forth a demon. He says even the most godly of men get this way at sporting events ( I started listing off men who I thought would NEVER behave that way)
Is this true? Of course, I know it's not just men. I saw some women flailing their arms as they screamed. And, I promise you, at a wrestling meet recently one of our team grandmas was yelling "KILL HIM, KILL HIM..."

And, honey, if you're reading this - I knew you wouldn't mind because you're such a good sport.

be careful what you wish for....

I have a few friends who were stay-at-home moms and had jobs fall into their laps. People sought them out and basically said "you'd be just right for this position..."
I've always said I want that to happen to me. Well, I think it did today.
A friend called and said her husband is looking for a phone receptionist part time just until summer. YIKES!!!! She gave me his office number and told me to call and let him know if I was interested.

Here are my concerns:

I have not worked outside the home for 15 years. I feel totally ill equipped to handle a job in an office today. I just want to say "you have no idea how incompetent I probably am...."

I went to church with this man for 12 years. He is an elder at this church and I was pretty close to his wife. Is it good to work for somebody that I know that well? Also, he and his wife are not at all shy about saying things like "when are you going to get tired of driving that distance and come back to church with us?"

Kids still get sick even when mom only works part time. If Paul is in town, he can do the pick up thing. But if he is out of the country (which is often) it will fall to me. I will have to be sure that any employer will not have a problem with me running to pick up a sick kid in the middle of the day, at least until we come up with a plan B - perhaps ask a neighbor if she'd be willing to do that for me should the need arise.

Paul and I had just decided I would not go back to work for awhile. He just took a new position that will require MORE travel and we decided it would be best for our kids for me to still be home full time.

Here are the positive things about this opportunity:

How fortunate to be able to work for a good Christian man who I know will expect good work, but is still kind hearted and a decent human being. Paul says he does not know anybody more professional than Bill. Of course there will be others in the office to answer to also.....
I doubt church will be mentioned in the work place (see comment on professionalism) at least not in the context of urging me to return.

It is part time and temporary. It will be a good way to get my feet wet and re-enter the work world gradually. It will be good to be done by summer. My kids are too old for a sitter, but I don't want them home alone all day every day through the summer.

I will be bringing home a paycheck - not a big one, but a contribution to the family finances. And with college less than 5 years away......

It will build my self confidence, if I succeed at this.

Is this God speaking to me - telling me that this is that opportunity I've been waiting for?

I guess I will call him tomorrow and get some more details. I will pray about this tonight and ask for your prayers and also any advice/comments.

aaaaaahm! I'm telllllllllling..........

Reading Beaner's report on the puppy made me think of our first few weeks with Cookie. Kayla was four. She spent the first 2 weeks standing on a chair crying any time the puppy was around. Not a good sign. She soon became best buddies with her though.
One day after she was (we thought) completely housebroken, I was ironing in my bedroom, Kayla was playing on my bed beside me and the puppy was just bouncing around. Then Cookie just came up beside me and made a mess right there on my bedroom carpet!!!
Now before I go on I will tell you that our kids were taught that certain words were naughty:
stupid, idiot, shut up...
Ok, so I grabbed that puppy by the collar and dragged her down the hall toward the garage door grumbling through gritted teeth something like "you STUPID, WORTHLESS, IDIOT puppy, no good...bad doggie...." I put her in her crate and said "NO, NO!" Well, Kayla heard Stupid and Idiot and she looked up at me and shook her finger and said "I'M. TELLING. DADDY. EVERY. NAUGHTY. WORD. YOU. JUST. SAID. And, mommy she's not stupid, she's just a baby and doesn't know any better." Anybody ever feel teeny tiny like that...?

AHA!!!!

I decided last night, after talking to a couple of ladies from church, that I will go to the retreat after my son's wrestling meet, assuming nothing really big happens to prevent it. I may not get there very early; and, sorry to say, I will probably miss Chris's presentation. But I will get Saturday evening and Sunday morning for fellowship and fun. Blake's meet is only about 10 miles from the retreat center so Paul will drop me off afterward and I will catch a ride home with one of the ladies. Woo Hoo. Paul is happy for me too and has tried all week to help me find a way to work this out. Seems so obvious now. I guess I felt like I had to make it an all or nothing thing. I have made another decision based on this one. I will not try to avoid sugar anymore this week; I will start that again on Monday. In the name of fellowship, and being one with my sisters in Christ, I will plan to partake of all the chocolate and fresh cookies. Anything for unity. I think I saw a brownie mix in my pantry; why wait 'til Saturday....

Please pray for Paul and his parents. Paul's grandmother (actually his stepdad's mom) was put into a nursing home this week after suffering a cracked vertabrae. She is 95. His parents hope to bring her home to care for her soon, as they did with my mother-in-law's dad for 3 years. Paul loves Grandma dearly and has been so good to her over the years, as she has been to him.
I know his heart is heavy and he worries about her and tries to find time in his crazy schedule to go down and visit him.

Well, we did it. We bought the van. It is a painful experience, perhaps second only to buying or selling a house. All that paper work. All that schmoozing. We kept being reminded of the "report cards" we would get in the mail to evaluate our service and how important it is to give them high marks. Our paper work was not ready when we got there, even though we were told it would be. At the end, we started to hand over the title to our old van and the man says "UH, I don't show that you have a trade in." My mind was saying "are you KIDDING me?" So, we did every paper over again.

I showed them, though; I had left my kids plus a friend of Blake's in the lounge with the free fountain soda. Uh huh!!!! Never put Blake and free soda in the same room. When we got back, Kayla was giggling. Blake had drunk 7 sodas - alternating between Diet Pepsi and Mt. Dew, and was on his second cup of coffee. I'm pretty sure his eyes were moving in circles. Then we went to dinner and he had 2 or 3 Diet Pepsi's. He is just like his dad, though; he goes to bed and sleeps like a baby after all that caffeine. If only he had drunk about 750 more cups at the car lot we could have had the rear bumper paid for.

Kayla has entered an art contest for Doctor Appreciation Day. Her objective: to show on a poster how she feels about her family doctor. She worked hard and I sure hope she gets some recognition. My objective today: find a place that can make a copy of her poster so we can deliver it to our doctor before the contest; and then deliver the poster to the art gallery.

I will Thank God today for:

1. My good report from the doctor
2. My husband (DO NOT get me started on this wonderful man)
3. Our new church family (DO NOT get me started on the change this congregation has made in our lives)
4. My healthy, active children (and the public school where they attend; I can love them from afar just as easily)
5. the fact that we were able to replace the van
6. whatever else comes to mind at that moment