Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Here's gambling on a great New Year!!

I have a secret. I love to gamble.


Yeah, that isn't something I advertise. In fact, I am not all that proud of it. I began my little relationship playing the odds back on my honeymoon when my husband gave me 20$ to shoot on the slot machines.


Well, you guessed it. I hit a couple of winners and now 20 years later, I still wanna win. I will confess right now that this little hobby is NOT one that interferes in my financial portfolio. In fact, I rarely feed the fire. My father was borderline addicted to the boats which left a pretty sour taste in my mouth. So, I am not one to allow the games of chance too much opportunity in my life. I know myself well enough to know I could get addicted in the same way as my father.


This shot was taken after putting 7$ in a machine and winning 87$. It was a nickel machine and I played for nearly an hour; which was the perfect amount of time to hit a few sevens, hear the machine alarm and feel my adrenaline pumping. I am not addicted to losing money. So, with the small margin of profit I quickly closed down my machine and took the money and ran. Yea! I am a big gambler.

I would like to win more. Wisely though, I am not about to spend anymore money on silly slot machines. My once a year itch has been scratched and I am good for another 12 months or so.

It does make me think about life and the gambles we take every year. I am imagining this school endeavor to be a big gamble for our family. We are pouring out a lot of cash and rolling the dice on a career choice for me that may or may not pan out.

We are gambling on our parenting skills and the way we are raising up our children. We are now entering into the fruit bearing season where we will actually see if our offspring have benefited or learned anything in our homes.

We are at the stage where we regularly gamble with our lives as our 14 yr. old is learning how to drive. This is a high-stakes adventure as he is still very new to managing a vehicle. I am often afraid.

I know that the risk and adventure and fun involved in the slot machine is really masking the fear of losing it all. I catch myself rationalizing and manipulating my mind to let it be "OK" to lose money so carelessly.

I think this is what I do with the other frightening things in my life. I mask them and cover them and repackage them to let them be manageable and livable and "OK". When in reality, the pee is dripping down my leg and I am petrified and nervous and afraid.

AND excited and hopeful and interested and curious. I think that is what gambling does to us. It somehow makes you think you may have a chance and without a chance wouldn't we just give up altogether?

So, this year is another gamble. It is a risk to step out and try new things. Look in the unexpected places for newness and hope. I even think that is what this blog thing is about for me. It is risky to put myself out here. I don't even know who reads this silly thing and honestly, it is OK. I am good.

I am ready to plop down more this year. Maybe the stakes will be even higher. Maybe I will dig deeper and find more about myself, my expectations, my flaws. Maybe I will grow and be changed and be open and transform.

I am betting I do. I am praying the same for you.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Post Christmas thoughts...

Good grief it has been forever since I have posted an entry here! I must confess I have written many and they remain in the drafts pile. I don't feel very articulate these days. Maybe it is because I recently took my brain age on one of the kids DS games and learned that I am only using 8% of my noggin. My son tried to make me feel better by telling me that the game purposely scores you low so you have something to improve on. This did not make me feel any better.

I have yanked down the Christmas tree and cleaned up most of the festive decor in hopes of restoring some level of order back into the home. I am listening to my 7 yr.old daughter sing Dead or Alive with her brothers pounding the drum and guitar to Rock Band. I think this may have been disturbing to me if my first born would've attempted this activity at the same age. I would've felt the lyrics would have manipulated his heart into a ball of hate and disdain and perhaps even led him down a path of evil and corruption. Today I think it is precious that my three children can bond over a silly game and enjoy each others company. I tried to creatively work out the lyric issue by singing my own lyrics instead of the questionable ones in hopes that the children would follow suit and just hum or sing doo's and dah's instead...not sure it will be a popular choice for them. At least they like each other enough that they can play together. I like that.

I feel like I am just now coming down from my sugar high. I cannot believe the unabandoned fury in which I ingested sugar this week. My aunt always brings a giant chocolate sheet cake to our normal celebration and I feel confident that a quarter of it ended up shoved into my piehole. What the heck is that about? Yuck. I am glad the sugar is gone.

I am glad the purchasing is over. I am glad the gifts are put away. I am thankful that the house is relatively quiet and the kids are happy and the year is wrapping up and I am done with school for a couple of weeks. Deep breath in and big exhale out. Life is good. Yes, life is very, very good.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Big day!

Guess who is starting therapy today??
It's me! It's me.
Yeah, I will be the client today. I found out that the other counseling school in town works a trade off for the students. You can attend the other schools counseling center for $5 a session. I thought this would be a wise move for me. I believe the best way I can offer any support or encouragement for someone else is to first consider what business I need to attend to in my own life. Makes sense.
So today in the middle of the most hectic season ever I will take a time out and begin to unravel my soul to a stranger. A possible young student stranger. A therapist that is in training. fun, huh?
I have come to believe that I can learn something from everyone and anyone. Today I get the opportunity to live it out.
I don't really have time for therapy. I am trying to get out of town on Sunday morning for a week long trip with my husband. (This is his move to celebrate our 20th anniversary! I would never have picked December...but ???) I have a giant family history paper due before I leave. I am trying to get my Christmas crud purchased, put out, organized, wrapped, mailed, etc. This is kind of a nightmare. So, let me take a minute to blog about it!
I think this therapeutic window in my life is one that will eventually pay off ten fold. Won't it be helpful to realize all my nasty business before I begin trying to help others through theirs in just 4 months? I say YES.
In fact, the more I have opportunity to gaze into the world of my own upbringing, history and life, the more I am convinced this is beautiful. What a gift to have this window of exposure and revelation at the half way point in my life. I feel like it such the hand of God, gifting me this time to learn about myself and to make adjustments and tweaks and changes. None of this would be happening if I didn't choose to quit my job and head back to school. I know that God is pushing me to examine the pieces of me and see where He can have more room in my life. He is challenging me to lay it all before Him. I believe the therapy window is really the confession booth for me to say outloud what I have been holding to myself and allowing room to fester and manifest in ways that may not be so healthy or beneficial to me or my family.
I am looking forward to today with expectancy. I look forward today with readiness that this is all about sifting and combing through the pieces of me that need to be refined and reshaped and reconsidered.
I highly suspect this will not be a fun experience. From what I know, most growth opportunities are not all that fun. We will see! I can't wait to find out who my therapist is!
What does it say about me if I hope she is over the age of 22? See, I do have issues. I am already trying to control my session!! I need a lot of help!! This is going to be a long process.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

A bit about my journey

I want to blog today. I really don't have time. I feel like I never have time and yet this is really about me vomiting my heart and if that is the case I should not think about it, I should just do it and release it and not think about if it is grammatically correct or if some random reader should get a hold of it and put some sort of judgement on me or my content so today...I am just dumping. No filter. No prettiness, just release.
I feel like I have a ton to get off my chest. I have this crazy school paper I am working on that is all about my transformative journey thus far. It is supposed to reflect where I think I am in the growth process. Growth is not a quick easy thing to measure. Unless we are taking size and that one is not really going to be addressed on this site. I am not going there. Internal, heart, life-changing growth...that is the stuff this paper is supposed to be made of.
When was the last time you thought about your own growth? How you are changing, developing, becoming a different person....through your circumstances, your interactions, your experiences, your friendships, your family...the word of God or whatever religious lens you use...isn't this an interesting thought???
I have really been unraveling it. It is kinda scary to consider growth in your life. What if there is no growth? What if I am standing here in my 43 year of existence and I am not really developing into the person I would have dreamed becoming? The kind of person I am glad to wake up and be every single day?? What if I don't really like what is becoming me?
I think this would be when I would start to do a lot of plastic surgery, look for a some "things" to begin to fill my life and make me "feel" better about this lack of being content with myself. ( Another term for this may be: Mid life crisis.)
Thankfully, I feel peace about the very imperfect process I am in to become the best version of me I can be. I am grateful to be in a relationship with the author and perfector of my faith who pours out graciously His undying mercy and acceptance of me and for me. This hope is really the confidence I have that is okay to suck. To not be all the things I had wished and wanted and dreamed of becoming and that I am exactly in the place He knew I would be and He is exactly at work in making me become the woman He exacted me to become and I really am okay.
I like the fact that today I am giving myself a break and recognizing that I do not have all my poop in a group. That I am very self-centered, egotistical and vain. I am confident that I have a lot of different pieces of me that like to shield this ugliness and pretty myself up and pretend that it is all good but ultimately, it isn't. I am good with that.
I am good with the fact that I am not going to be perfect this side of heaven and I can work hard and try a ton but it is all for nothing.
Ultimately, I must rest with the confidence that even with all these nasty pieces of me there is some really good stuff in there too. I am honest. I like being transparent. I am glad I can see myself with my imperfections and that I am not trying to live this covert life of inauthenticity.
I love that I ultimately have a redeemer and a hope.
I love that I am going to get the privilege of walking with other people through their seasons of evaluation and self-examination. I love that I am going to understand what it feels like to dig in and not necessarily love everything I see. I am grateful for this season to see that ways that despite my imperfections I have hope. I have confidence in my purpose. I am grateful for a Savior that sees me and adores me and accepts me.
I pray for wisdom to lovingly encourage others who walk their journey without that hope and without that assurance. Today I recognize the enormity of being with people in process and I am humbled and afraid. I alone have nothing to offer another. I am equally as desperate and equally as broken.
I have a long way ahead of me on this journey.....but today I am thankful.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

Internship fun

Next week we meet the different facilities that offer internships for our clinicals that start in April. So, I have to put together my resume and spiff up my pointy shoes and get ready to do some glad handing!
This little placement fair will be the first exposure we as a class have to potential facilities we can serve for our internship. Did I mention we need 500 clinical hours to graduate?
I got panicked this week. Thought I was going to have a mini anxiety attack thinking that I am going to be face to face with clients in less then 5 months. Doesn't this seem early? I am still so green! So inexperienced. So lame-o.
I asked my professor for a teacher-student conference. Thought they should give us some feedback about our readiness for the therapeutic environment. My professor laughed. He thought I needed to live in my anxiety, not worry so much and practice coping and soothing.
This seems cruel and hateful. Do they really want us to SUCK? Cause that is what I feel like I am being set up to do, SUCK!
There are multiple places for us to commit to serving for our internships. I could head to the jail and work with the various felons and criminals there. The word on the street is you always get your hours there. As opposed to some of the other private sector sites that have a tendency to cancel appointments and blow you off. The jail is always a sure thing.
We can work in a battered women's shelter, a place that works with grieving children and their parents, or even a church. I am really interested in stepping out of my familiar route and pressing into a place that is uncomfortable and yicky. I am considering one of the group situations that work with sexual offenders. This would not be pretty or anything that I would want to do long term but I think it would press me beyond my limits. I think I need that. If I am ever going to be exposed to that sort of thing, may as well be now.
Who knows where I will be placed. All I do know is I have to pull together my resume this weekend. How exciting is that? I wonder if I need to include something unique to qualify me to work with the "special" felon population. Do you think being married to an adult juvenile delinquent will qualify me?
He was the guy that tried to steal radar detectors out of police cars in high school. He and his friends used to roll smoke bombs into the fire station garage. They also trashed a golf course by driving the carts into the lake and four wheeling through most of the grounds. You know, once he started dating me, it all ended for him. Appears as if I have some experience with rehab so maybe I should include that in my resume, huh?

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Happy Voting and Happy Halloween!!

Today I made my second trip to the voting center to cast my early ballot. This time I actually got through the front door. Last stop had me rolling down my window in the parking lot and asking a gentleman about the line and he suggested I return later, giant wait.

So, I complied. I follow directions.

At least I thought I did, until I went to a different voting location. This time I followed the obvious yellow dots on the floor through the first room of chaos and upon exiting I got called out by an old friend. Now, the old friend happens to be the brother of my old boyfriend. Our families intersected for a season of life and it was like old times running into him in line. Which is why I jumped in front of him and begin talking nonstop. To catch up AND because I believed the line I was in merged with his. I did this without the slightest cause to question my decision. I chatted enjoying this election process more then any other of my recent past. We got a lot of good information shared in our 7 minutes in line together before I had to move through the various stations independent of him.

Now interestingly, I did begin to wonder why the two friends I entered the voting center with were no where to be seen. I did think it odd that my merge had moved me quickly through the process and my other cohorts were completely absent from my sight.

So, I pressed on happily casting my votes and thinking to myself what a pleasant experience this has been. Ending my session with ease, I took a seat by the front door and waited for my ride.

Well, while soaking in the sights from the front door vantage point I begin to see a trend of a line that appeared out of nowhere and headed into the direction that my room emptied out of right about the location of the merge. I couldn't figure where that line came from. So I asked the sweet volunteer sticker lady about this complexity.
"Where exactly does that line come from? Is there another entrance?" I inquired.

"No, that is the line that you take and swing through and come back up after exiting the first room!" She snidely huffed.

"Oh.." big pause....silence. I just realized the gravity of my merge. Yeah, I cut about 23 people in line including the guy friend from days gone by, without even knowing it. I sincerely believed that this was a merge situation. I did not see the yellow dots directing me through the mini maze. (which honestly was mini or I am sure a revolt would've broken out by the people standing in line!)
Yup, I got to basically smile, wave and bid the entire line I cut farewell as they exited the polls and I sat and waited for my ride who diligently stood in line instead of cutting to cast her vote!!
So, my friends...do not be the WITCH I was on Wednesday, take your turn to vote. (I had to figure out how to include something about a witch on this special holiday post!!)
PS. I did immediately call information to get the friend's phone number to apologize for the cutting business but both of the numbers listed were not in service! So, now I have to live with myself and the reality that he may go on believing I am nothing but a good for nothing line jumper! So much for following directions.

Sunday, October 26, 2008














































Wow, I have been gone a LONG time!! Doesn't seem that long until i look at the dates and then it is very obvious and very sad. So, in an effort to begin to catch up I will first begin with a few photos. I haven't posted any of those in awhile either and they will fill lots of space and make me "feel" like I am putting up a very noteworthy post. So, this is from the field trip with my daughter's class this past month. The day was overcast but the colors were still vibrant. I am planning on printing a few of these for some inspiration this winter when the gray days take over.
I have been learning lots in school this past month and have plenty to report. I hope to have the time to really reflect and adequately communicate the depth of my new found understanding. This season is such a fun new one in my life. Feel like daily I am being challenged to consider the ways that I will be encouraging clients. I have been significantly aware of the ways I am uninterested in changing. The hard habits I have formed and the cemented style I like to cling to them. These principles must be evaluated and reconsidered. I must be willing to overturn every piece of myself so that I might be more understanding and empathetic of those that sit before me in a therapeutic environment.
Is this ugly, uncomfy, scary and downright unnerving? Yes, dear ones, it is! It is no fun to look at the poop in your life and see how affectionate you are toward it. Why do I like to remain stubborn or short-tempered? Many people who seek counsel are stuck in their ways as well and if I am not clear about recognizing and attempting to move out of my own crudola then how in heavens name will I ever be able to encourage another? Pretty challenging stuff. It is good and nasty and yicky and fun to nestle up next to the places I fall short in life and repent and confess and turn away from and keep doing it, and keep recognizing it over and over and over and over and .....you get the picture.
This process makes me like myself a little more. Because at least I know I am working on it and not hiding it away and acting like it doesn't exist. Will I ever get done with this magical purging process? Unfortunately, not this side of heaven! Gee, that is uplifting. With that I must run and apologize to the child I just verbally accosted for interrupting me for the fifth time. Yes, I have a LONG way to go.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Training for my future

Being a student in the MSFT program is convicting, eye-opening and challenging on SOOO many levels.
This past week we had to look at ourselves and unravel the pieces of us which might hinder our effectiveness as Marriage and Family Therapists.
I asked my family specifically about some of the areas I need to grow in. I would not suggest doing this unless you are ready for brutal truth.
I heard words that did not surprise me. In fact, I may have planted some of the seeds myself by asking questions about my own behavior which prompted a universal swell of agreement and head nodding. So, here is what we came up with...
I am a bit controlling.
Yeah, all those who know me personally are snickering and nodding. This one is not a big surprise. I do come from a long line of perfectionists. I am a first born. I married a first-born. I like order, routine and predictability. So, I struggle a bit with controlling.
Another area may be my opinions. I tend to give them freely without permission. This is not necessarily always evil but it certainly can be less then helpful at times.
So, I have decided to work on training out some of this in my spirit. I have tried to come up with some guidelines to break me of some of my incessant domineering tendencies.
One of the special curse breaker methods (designed by my family) is to fly the "Napoleon Dynamite dove hands in my direction to cue me of my bossiness/manipulating/controlling behavior. They also thought it would be helpful to say, "Jaberwocky" to me. I am trying to receive this correction with humility and grace but sometimes when a 14yr. old starts flying his hands in your face it sparks up the quick need to dope slap him in the side of the head.
I am pretty sure this is NOT part of the training process. Somehow, I do believe that receiving the correction is half of the training practice. So, I will try to fight the urge to respond in my flesh and allow the dove to motivate me to change.
The opinion thing.....as a mother is not easy to curtail. They (the wee ones) truly need the wealth of information and advice that I have been put here to dole out. So, that one is more designed for my interaction with other adults. My goal is to wait to be asked my thoughts instead of just offering them willy nilly whenever I fell lead. Again, NOT easy.
Funny little sidebar to all this, my theory about my upbringing contributing to my nature....
My mom was in town last week when I had class. She was aware that my class ended late and she knew exactly when I should arrive home. After class, some ladies and I stood around in the parking lot and did a little post-game wrap up of the day. I texted my husband to let him know I was safe but running late. About a half hour later my phone rang. It was NOT my husband looking for me, but my MOTHER!!
"Where are you? Aren't you supposed to be home by now? It is really, late. You should be getting home soon. It is never a good idea to stand around in an empty parking lot. When should I expect you??"
Yes, I am 42 years old and Yes, this is the exact conversation we had when I was 18! It is as if I have never aged.
My friends laughed and I chalked it up to mom not getting trained out of her stuff.
See now why I must do this?? It isn't just for me, but for my kids too!

Sunday, September 14, 2008

True Confession

So, this week in class we discussed positive and negative sentiment.
We were responsible for identifying someone or something that we have negative sentiment about. This is what prompts my special photo.
I am not always fond of perfect people. I seem to believe that all people who look like Ken and Barbie are full of crap. That they basically have something major they are trying to hide and that they spend most of their energy and resources trying to cover it up by being "perfect."
This attitude of mine is far from therapist-like. I must instead adopt a curiosity and interest in this "perfect" person and come up with questions that would help me be interested in finding out more. I must decide to invest in the process of looking deeper into the heart and person behind the persona.
This is something I have done on occasion. I don't ALWAYS shun and dismiss the pretty people. But if I do get honest and look into my spirit I judge people on sincerity and authenticity. These are values I hold higher then appearance. Unfortunately, there are beautiful, seemingly altogether people who also do have very genuine hearts and sweet outward focused dispositions.
So, part of the challenge for the week is to identify 2 ways to train into change how I relate to this kind of person. (This is one of the assignments for class this week.)
We talk a lot about training vs. trying in class. I love this principle. I think it makes a lot of sense. But thinking practically about training in the area of relational development is tricky. How can I train change in my spirit toward the perfect people?
One thing I can do is take more risks. Approach them more often. Train myself to initiate coffee or some other conversational opportunity to get to know the true person.
I have memorized a verse before that says, "Man looks at outward appearance and God looks at the heart." I can spend more time meditating on that thought and remembering that I only see one dimension of every person. There is much more beneath the surface and I must be willing to be interested in finding it.
I know this won't be an easy exercise but I love that this process is causing me to comb through my own stuff and face my own biases.
If you have any other training ideas for my process, shoot 'em my way. I am open to growth or I wouldn't be doing this.



Disclaimer***I just reread this and I sound like such judgemental bitty. I am trying to be honest. I do not hate people who are gifted in beauty, please don't get me wrong. Some people just air on the "life is always perfect, things never go wrong, I am pretty, my kids are pretty, my house is pretty, Isn't life grand all the time??" This is the person that I am referring to. Either way, it is a sincere confession, not one that I am proud of...I am responsible for unearthing this stuff in class and since this is my authentic life I am dumping it out here for you too.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Quick note

First up, I do not speak in rhymes often and honestly, I have no explanation for why that last post ended up in a sing song verse. Weird, out of body experience? I am not sure.

Secondly, my daughter informed me as she was eating her off brand yogurt in a tube that it was not very good.

"Mom, this is not good at all. It is made with yogurt NOT GOGURT!"

Okay, so branding is getting the best of my family.

Today is school for me. I am off to learn all about emotional states and attachment theory. It is quite fascinating.

I will confess that currently we are doing mock sessions with a couple of students being the clients and one of us being the therapist.

I suck. If this is any indicator of the things to come I will be a very poor and lonely therapist. I cannot explain how hard it is to listen with intention and thoughtfully try to imagine where both the clients are coming from.

First lesson seems simple...learn to be a L.U.V.E.R
Listen, Understand, Validate, Empathize, Repeat.
Sounds simple, huh?
Try it at home and get back to me. This is so much harder then it sounds.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

This time a RAVE!

I have recovered from the hair rant. Thank you for the kind and encouraging words. I do appreciate them all. Thought I would counter the Rant with a Rave...this one is for ALMA.

Alma is the elderly woman who gracefully masters the check-out line at my local Wal-Mart Super Center. She has single-handedly restored my hope for getting in and out of that place in under an hour. I should back up a bit and tell you how I fell in love with this sweet woman.

I met her nearly a year ago in the wee hours of the morning when I was obsessed with trying to beat the crazy Wal-Mart system and go to the store when I believed it to be less traveled. Was I ever wrong. Wal-Mart is really busy all the time. Just because my watch said 6:15am did not mean smooth and easy check out. No, still the line. Still the one checker. But, alas....this was no ordinary checker. (Music fades in....up comes ALMA's angelic face.) It was Alma.

This dear woman smiled and meticulously began her magic. She lifted and scanned with ease and wonder. She showed no signs of confusion or dismay over weighted items and codes. She knew exactly how to sack with all colds together and breads set apart. This woman seemed to flow with an ingenious competency not known to human hands. I watched in awe as customers were filing away in expediant manners and with pleasant dispositions. Before I knew it I was at the front of the line falling into her spell. Her proficient wizardry had me mesmerized. (It was early so it didn't take that much...but still!) She was good. Like no other I had ever observed. She did not dawdle, slump or complain, she did not frown or moan or call out for a price check. Her masterful hands moved with such competency and flair. It was then, that moment, that I found my love. My joy. My new friend. My Wal-Mart girl.

I knew it that day and kept it to myself, leaving the store a new woman. One with restored hope in the big box store with the low, low prices. Maybe they do care, maybe they do want me to return...they did hire ALMA. That has got to say something, right? I felt spring in my step as I left that day. Hopeful for my return, it is getting better here. Wal-Mart does care.

So, I think I may have been too optimistic as I returned a half dozen times in between and met the fate of my not so distant past, with the cruddy checkers who don't give a flip and they seemed to find me and ask me to be in their lines and I would wait and grow helpless and hopeless for her....until...

Last week I saw her again. She was down in lane twentysomething...so far away. My eyes scanned for short lines and somehow she was there. The sweet little woman with the gray tinted hair....I caught myself moving a brisk sort of pace. It wasn't too pretty, it wasn't a race, but I needed to see her to tell of my story how she is the reason I put up with this gory experience of pain and of suffering so real. But once I got to her lane my head was a flutter, she cast her kind spell and she started scanning my butter.

I couldn't contain my joy or affection ..."Alma, you dear one, do you feel our connection? Your technique is amazing your style perfection. I look for you always and hope you are here. When I see you are checking I run toward you and silently cheer!

I could tell she was flattered and taken aback as the bagger beside her giggled and laughed. I know checkers aren't celebs or famous or not...but ALMA to me is massively HOT>!

We closed down our time with a simple request, "Alma, tell me your schedule, I really must ask."

"I'm here on most days from 6-3." She smiled to herself and winked back at me.

So today is the day that I say with a Cheer, Give it up for ALMA and all who are dear! Tell them aloud, face to face, speak clear, be direct, that you value you and love them and give them respect.

Monday, September 1, 2008

Quick Rant....


Yeah, It isn't nice to finally resurface with a big fat rant but I have to purge my spirit.
Just got my gumption up to chop all my hair off for a cute sassy bob. I know, it is practically out of style by now but I love the way they look. I have secretly wanted that Posh cut for quite a long time now.
The thought of giving up my ponytail for the summer was just unbearable. I am addicted to the ease of yanking it up without any thought. I love that it requires no work, it can be wet, it can be dry. The pony has been faithful. I appreciate that. I just needed a new look.
So, a bob it was! I looked online and found some styles that weren't as drastic as Posh. Still angled a bit but longer and more tolerable for my departure from the pony. So, like any good client, I offered pictures and communicated to the best of my ability how important it was to me to keep the front long. As long as possible and then angle the sides to a shorter back. Not crazy short. Shorter.
My sweet stylist of way too many years pointed out some layering on my sides that may not look good long.
I appreciated the perspective but assured him i wanted to see it long and then slice it back if it did indeed look ridiculous.
So, what did he do?
YES~! He went ahead and cut it off right at my chin. Exactly shorter then I had just requested and then bobbed it pretty much straight across the sides.
As I watched in wonder, my blood began to boil and my hand began to shake. I had just given this man my long locks to work with here. He had plenty of hair to keep it long in front. Yes, it may have looked stupid but who is the ultimate JUDGE...it is ME!!
Oh, this man...whom I have loved for years now...took advantage of his position and gave me a darling mom bob. Yes, it is the simple straight conservative, darling mom bob but I wanted the long front, angled poshish bob. This man just stole my only chance and now what am i supposed to do?
So, as he handed me the mirror to see the sides that showed no angle and looked much like the exact bob I had in 1993, I lost it.
I spat through clenched teeth, "This is NOT longer in front!!"
"Well, you had too many layers, it didn't look good," he replied.
"Who got to decide that?? I have been sitting here the whole time. I asked for longer in FRONT!! I had long hair...there is no angle."
He quickly deduced my frustration and began to repair to the best of his ability. In his haste he cut into the tip of one of his fingers and began explaining how it could not work the other way. He also began soliciting support from the next lucky client to talk me off the ledge.
How is it that something as menial as hair can throw me into a complete frenzy? I wanted to choke the man. Seriously, choke him.
I think there is somehting about him pushing his agenda on my hair. He feels like he knows how I should look and honestly, I believe this is a look he has done on me before. I hate to say it, but we may have to break up. I don't know how to do that because he has been such a faithful stylist for so many years. In fact, he was even asking me that day if I ever had a bad haircut from him.
IRONIC? Well, no.
It is still a good haircut. Just not the one i asked for!!

Monday, August 11, 2008

Intentensive week is over!


Week one of my two year Masters program is under my belt. Hallelujah! It was exactly as they communicated it would be, intense. I haven't sat in a class room for 20 years and being back for 10 hours a day all week was challenging.

This class was really about the basics. It focused on the History of Marriage and Family Therapy, the terms used and the personal responsibility each of us has to being as healthy as possible in order to coach and help others.

A couple of the things that stood out most to me where focused on our perspective. Dr. T walked into class with a poop mask on his face. He danced in to the song..."I got the power..." It was very funny and very engaging to try to figure out what the poop head had to do with MFT.

His point was this....there are uncomfortable, scary, awkward people and situations all over our lives. He calls the people the poopheads. He explained that our natural inclination is to move away from the poopheads in life...and those poophead situations. We have two basic impulses, the strong one which is typically the easiest to respond to, like flee from awkward scary moments. Or the weaker impulse to draw near to it and see what ways we can grow through it. He used the analogy of the poop being uncomfortable, stinky, icky, get away from it now. OR the poop can be fertilizer and grow us and change us and produce new life in us.

So, the poop head illuminated a lot of truth to me. It really was a spiritual metaphor as well. He drew Jesus as an example. That Jesus never was one to move away from awkward people or the poophead people. Instead he always drew near to them, sought to understand them, loved them. He urged us to look at the poopheads in our lives and consider our responses.

I love this analogy. I love the principle of yielding to the Spirit, our weaker impulse over our flesh, stronger impulse. I love the picture of Christ putting others over himself.

Dr. T worked hard to dig up things in our lives that we might be moving away from, instead of embracing. He challenged us to lean into the USA (uncomfortable, scary, awkward). He pressed us about being open to changing our perspectives and being willing to grow.

I learned a lot this week about MFT but mostly I learned about places in my life where I am standing off protecting myself from authentic change and authentic love. I am starting to think this Masters program may be much more about personal growth then me ever helping anyone.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

School DAZE....

Tis' the season of buying school supplies, new shoes, clothes that fit and prepping for the new school year. This year has a bonus feature, I am buying for myself!

Yup folks, tomorrow at 8:30am I begin a 2yr. adventure of earning a Masters in Marriage and Family Therapy. I cannot believe it. I got my textbook, pens, spirals, note cards, laptop and big ol' bag to carry it all in.

My family is so supportive. My daughter asked her VBS group to pray for her mom since she is going back to school and would need lots of help. My mom called to make sure I had a cute first day outfit. My husband is thawing food and planning his meals for the week. It is sweet the way the fam is rallying around the ol' lady heading back to school.

Gotta admit there is a lot of apprehension in this move. I have not been a student in a long time. I don't know that I was that good of a student when I had all my brain cells and now 3 kids later I am not sure that has improved. I am nervous about how this will impact the daily dynamic in the home front. Thankfully, after this week we meet only one night a week for 5 hours. Later, we add clinicals and I will have to cross that bridge when I come to it.

This is all so surreal. I honestly can't believe I've made such a big move. The financial ramifications are not going to be simple. This is a huge commitment for my family to make. The emotional piece will be complicated since I will want to apply and dissect all the principles at home first. I am convinced this is where God wants me but I am kinda freaking out at the same time.

I believe if God had not used my husband to specifically urge and encourage me I may have been stifled by fear and anxiety about all the uncontrollable pieces of this school puzzle. He has been so convinced that this is where I am to be used by God, that is has propelled me with confidence to move forward.

So, think of me this week as I will be popping some hemis sitting for 10+ hours a day on molded plastic chairs. Or swallowing handfuls of ibuprofen due to the weeping-induced headache I will be sporting from all the intimate bonding and life-sharing I will be doing with all my new bff therapists! I can't wait. At least I will be wearing a cute outfit! Fill you in more later.

Friday, August 1, 2008

It is finished!




















Hallelujah, the basement is done!




This may not mean much to anyone else but to me this is proof that my house is now built on solid ground. Or at least that is what they have guaranteed me to believe.
I got a little bold and asked the young foreman if he was a religious guy. Asked him if he knew the biblical passage about building your house on solid ground. He wasn't sure about that. I told him that in a way he is really about doing God's work by setting peoples homes on immovable ground and not on sandy soil. That the principle was biblical and he was being a blessing. He smiled and laughed uncomfortably and scurried off as quickly as possible.
To me, this is a spiritual metaphor for our family. Our home is the physical part of the foundation that we are building but ideally it is about the spiritual base and girding in of truth that is important. If one part of the foundation is sinking then we need to re-examine our hearts, check out our spirits and ask the Lord to gird us in His truth and promises. I love that in the midst of these men digging holes and literally hoisting our house back into place we have the ultimate cornerstone to build our house on, the immovable rock, our real shelter, our true deliverer! I praise Him for the ultimate sacriface to keep us steady. He is the one to be praised.

Monday, July 28, 2008

Update on Mega Doosie....

First up, it's sad and pitiful that i haven't had time to vomit forth the plethora of fun and ditties that have overtaken my summer. I wish I could linger here longer and regurgitate the details because it really has been a wicked fun summer with the kids. I am sad it is almost over.
Maybe on a snowy day in January I will reflect and post pictures of my special holiday but in the meantime I have to do a little self-therapy which is all about me venting over the worker dudes in my basement trying to jack up the house.
Yes, I promised a follow-up and if nothing else it is really about me requesting prayers that my house might be secured on solid ground. (In the biblical sense and the literal one as well.)
Today at the strike of 8:30 the truck full of qualified jackers showed up. The king jacker came to the door and tentatively extended his hand and greetings to the psycho, freaking homeowner best known as ME!
I promise that this "supervisor" looked to have been pulled from a uterus about 15 minutes ago. I believe he hasn't begun shaving. I almost felt compelled to pull him to my bosom and begin nursing him, he looked so YOUNG!
Yeah, that might be a graphic illustration, but SORRY...this child is going to supervise a mega expensive home renovation project. He is going to see that 19 holes get punched in and around my house with precision and skill.
I thought it best to just ask the babe how old he was,"sir, you look young to be in this business, what are you 15?"
"No ma'am, I am 19."
Giant sigh, now I know he is qualified to lift my house."So, how long have you been doing this?"
"5 years."
YEA!! Now, I feel much better. At the age of 15, one simple year older then my son, he began training to jack up houses.
I believe I need a drink. Not a whimpy one, a serious one with lots of the liquor that makes things happy and fuzzy and not scary anymore.
So, I begin to shrug off all the red flags and blaring sirens alerting me that this is not good and try to ask more intelligent questions regarding the 3 day event.
"Do you think we will really be able to push my fireplace back into place?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"I am pretty worried about this..."
"Why are you worried?" King jacker asks with his best concerned face.
"I really don't want more damage done as a result of the work that you are doing. You don't think you will damage my draining around the house, do you?"
"I don't think so."
"How exactly are you going to get the fireplace back into it's place?"
"We will dig a tunnel and crawl under it and put the jacks under that."
"This whole thing does not sound very safe."
Him smiling, no response.
"Well, okay....anything I need to do?"(besides call every prayer chain in the tri-state region and petition the Lord for His securing of my home, and safety for these workers.)
"No, I think we are good."
I know it was not nice for me to immediately call the company and ask about the King's credentials but I had to know. Is this boy really going to know how to do this job? We went with this company because they guarantee their work and they have been in the business for over 30 years. So, I asked the lady to talk me off the ledge and she kindly promised me that the King is one of the best they have. His dad is the Uber King and he has been training Jr. for this very day. He does know how to read the map and execute the job and I do not need to worry.
Wow, I feel better now or not.
I guess I can learn to like the sweet lulling sound of cement jacking and the air filling with a fine dust. If I just focus on the muted Spanish lyrics on the radio then it will give me the illusion that I am in a foreign Catina. Yeah, I am sure that will do the trick. So, pass me another Corona and we'll talk in the morrow as I try to work this panic attack off the old fashioned way.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

The Weasel Returns!




So much is happening so little time to post it!!

My oldest has been to Boy Scout Camp for 10 days and has returned to the flock finally with a special new Indian name chosen by him for a honorary tribe of the Mic-O-Say dudes. Anyhow, funny part of the story is my husband was trying to find the perfect name for him. This is some weird scout deal where you are to go out into the woods and ponder life and your purpose or something and voila the magical scout name comes to you.

Well, that is sort of hocus pocus because most of the boys know they are going to be tapped into the tribe and they come up with their name before joining. So, my scout wanna-be husband thought it would be great to advise our first born on the clever names to mock the privilege and honor of the Mic-O-Say braves by giving him a name like Mighty Northern Wind, Bent Arrow of the Early Morning, Mighty Wood or Tedious Beaver. (Thank goodness my son doesn't get the Beaver implication yet...)
Have I mentioned that my husband has the humor of a seventh grader? This name thing completely brought it out in him and he was determined to make our scout agree with his "hilarious" name choices.
I didn't think the mockery would really go over as well with the "serious" scouting community. For you unfamiliar with the world of scouting...let me tell you they are an interesting breed. Grown men still don the uniform proudly for days at a time at Camp Bartle. (See picture above!)They even participate in the coveted secret society of Order of the Arrow and the Tribe of Mic-O-say. These men camp days at a time to increase their position in the fraternities. They even go as far as dressing in loin cloths, dancing to drum music and singing weird Indian songs. This is not a crew to mock. They take their scouting very, very seriously.
Thankfully, our oldest dumped dad's suggestion and went with his family nickname, Weasel. I thought it was apropos since we have called all of children our weasels since they were born. I did think he could've spiced it up by calling himself the Spitting, Fighting Weasel or Angry, Nasty Weasel. I guess it is still better then Crazy Ass Ferret or Little Vermin filled with Rabies!

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

The Mega Doosie

Summer isn't just about fun here at our house. No, it is also about the projects. Lots of little cleaning kind of projects. We have already gone through drawers and closets finding the outgrown clothes and toys and donating them on to our dear friends. We have some painting planned and then we have the MEGA DOOSIE project.

Yep, this monster is one that nightmares are made of! This Mega Doosie project is worth thousands of dollars and is requiring loads of sweat equity just to prepare to conquer it. It may or may not even work....and it could create more problems by doing it. Have you figured it out yet? I know you are on the edge of your seat with anticipation, huh? This summer we are Jacking our house up!

I know this sounds exciting. We are the proud recipients of 16 cement piers placed strategically IN our house. Yes, this is going to be fun. We get to pull up the carpet of our finished basement and watch the skilled workers punch holes in the foundation of our house and pour some sort of cement pillars into the ground. They use some sort of metal forced thingy to push up on the secure ground and in all effects lift our house up. That sort of reinforcement not only gets placed in the middle of our basement but all along the walls of our storage room that is jam-packed full from floor to ceiling with every tool, Christmas decoration, paint can, Easter basket, hand-me-down, memory book, bull crap item we have ever accumulated since 1972. I am telling you that pulling the crap from the storage is overwhelming enough. I cannot imagine what watching men pound out cement holes all around the inside of my home is going to feel like. I am already nauseous.

So, the big project is happening in just 3 short weeks. It supposedly will allow us to close our bedroom door again. It has happily been ajar for 8 months. It could possibly close up some of the major cracks and crevasses that have formed throughout our house. The damage has already been pretty significant, so the process of jacking may not be any worse then what we are already living with. Sadly, they don't know for sure if the house will take on water after these piers have been placed. They do guarantee that the house will be secure so if there are any more problems they will fix it. And kindly, the warranty will go with the house should anyone ever want to buy it from us.

This is where I insert that this is the house that I grew up in...yes, very Clever familyish. I know. I have been living in this house on and off since I was in 7th grade. We bought it when my folks were moving out of state and our church was relocating in this vicinity. We thought it would be such a perfect fit. And to its credit, it is a nice old house. It has plenty of room and a great floor plan. We have remodeled the first floor knocking out a wall and redoing the kitchen and also finished the basement so it does "feel" like our house and not my mothers. But i will confess, that someday in my life...I would like to live in a different house. I fear if we do not jack this baby up now, I may be here until I die!!

So, today is prep day. I have invited four 14yr. old boys to come and spend a couple of hours dragging all the "stuff" from my storage room up into the garage. It is about 92 degrees today and the humidity is a million so these boys are earning every nickel of the movie ticket I promised them. Part of the deal was that they say nothing aloud about the amounts of trash I have or tell any of their parents what a packrat I am or they immediately forfeit their share of the peel and bake cookies and free movie tickets!

Yeah, the labor is doing its part and we are making progress. I gotta confess I am having a hard time figuring out what to do with all this stuff that has been camping in my basement for the last 10+ years. Finding the bank box filled with cassette tapes from my Jr. High years and the 6,000 VHS tapes that I just don't want to get rid of is causing a bit of a moral dilemma for me. Why....why do i save these things? What about the toys? Stuff is everywhere like the Thomas the Tank engine junk, the playskol parking garage, the 300 Easter baskets, the old clock, the tired lamps, the doll collection, the unused dishes, the albums....I don't even have a turn table. I have a huge box of antique hats from my grandmother. Should I donate these to a local museum? Think I can unload any of this on Craig's List or better yet hit the dumpster?

So there you have it....the Doosie of the summer is in full force. I will take pictures of the actual work being done. They warned us that we may not want to be around on the day that they actually lift the house because it makes such loud popping, busting, breaking sounds and then the dust flies and it can be very disturbing. As if I am not disturbed already. I did mention that my bedroom door hasn't been shut for the last 8 months, didn't I?

Sunday, July 6, 2008

I love the summer....

I love the summer! I love the heat.
I do not love the sweat that pours from every inappropriate spot on my body but I do love the sun that produces the heat that makes me feel warm and reminds me that it isn't the nasty gray winter which I loathe.

I love the water in the summer.
Water that refreshes and gives hydration and tastes better in the summer especially with chunks of lemon and sweet and low. I love the water in the summer. I do love the pool in the summer but only when I find the perfect chaise lounge that is securely located by full-figured women who share my affection for the sun and are relentlessly bold about sharing their bronzed flesh with the world. These ladies are my heroes. They love the water too. They must love summer.

I love my kids home in the summer.
I love my kids when they embrace the flexibility of the schedule meaning they don't care when I leave them unattended for a work-out or a haircut or an errand. When they find ways of entertaining themselves without prompting. I love my kids in the summer when they love being with each other and with the rest of the family. I will miss these days with my kids in the summer. I don't miss the days near the end of summer when they feel the wretch of the school calendar calling them back into routine. I hate the end of the summer when the nights get shorter and the mornings get earlier and I don't get to see my kids as often.

I love grill in the summer.
I love firing up my gas grill and throwing all sorts of meats and veggies out there. I love pretending to know how to grill fish. I love the idea that one of these days I am going to grill the perfect fish. It will surprise me and be delicious and not fishy and nasty and dry. I love the way I use my griddle on the grill. It is such a beautiful contraption that has made me love my grill even more. I do not love the fact that my grill sits directly in the western sun and in July produces lots of the heat that I do love but hate when i sweat from all the not so pretty parts of my body.

I love fresh produce in the summer.
I love to pretend to like all kinds of vegetables in the summer. I love to go to Farmer's Markets and buy produce and imagine myself cooking, chopping, grilling and eating all sorts of vegetables. I love going to the blueberry patch and picking ripe, sweet, crispy blueberries right off of the vine! I love thinking that I am almost a farmer and that the summer is making me healthier and stronger and better.

I love reading books in the summer.
I love that I just read the Shack. I love that I had time to allow the story to steep into my spirit. I love that the book is one that will radically transform my thinking about the Trinity forever.

Ahhh, I love the summer!

Monday, June 30, 2008


Okay, I am so technically challenged. This is the third and final attempt at posting these pics. Wanted you to see the beautiful church we served in. Saint Sans is what they called it. It has a longer formal name that I cannot remember. So, enjoy my last pics for posterity!!

Some pics!





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Here are some of the highlight pictures. I wish I could get a tutorial on how to load these suckers. This looks so trashy but I wanted to show some of the trip. We served at a soup kitchen located in the basement of the church shown above. It also has a school that we worked in which is where I am located when taking the picture. Here are some of the kids trying to get on the L.
So, this a little flavor of the trip!! Thanks again for praying!!!

Chi Dos....the name of our worksite


I AM BACK!!!

Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!! I have returned and recuperated somewhat. Thank you for praying. It made a world of difference. I felt completely covered in peace throughout the entire stretching week.

Some of the most obvious moments of peace prevailed when I headed down Michigan Ave the wrong way and had to hike my 15-passenger van over the median to get out of on-coming traffic!! Yeah, it was a bit harrowing but God is good and He prevailed.

I know He poured out His power when the 47 of us were lost travelling through southern Chicago trying to find our way to the L. I hate it when we lose direction. It was one of the most challenging moments of the trip. You combine that with a few of these doosies and I did have moments of sweaty pits and cussing thoughts!

Doosies:

-HS girl gets shoulder dislocated and has to stay in ER for 6+ hours.

-Different HS girl cuts her finger open in the shopping district and feels like passing out.

-Driving through Englewood, the most impoverished ghetto in Chicago.

-Watching HS girl get stuck in window because she is determined to climb outside to clean.

-Seeing HS boy scale a building over 13 feet high.

-Finding a pregnancy test box in the girls trash (learning later it was a prank from boys!! not funny!)

-Never having a moment to myself from 6:30am until 11:30pm every day!


See, it was a memorable trip. I am sure I am still missing some highlights. I just wanted to give you a broad glimpse at the week. Plenty of drama and fun and also a beautiful spiritual element as the girls I work with opened up with new amazing questions of faith. They invited deeper accountability and showed such grace and maturity when they invited me to be prayed for after our foot washing ceremony. It was amazing to hear them intercede on my behalf. I was blessed.

So, all in all, Beautiful Chicago memorable moments. Am I sad that this is the farewell tour? Gotta confess, yes and no. Yes, I am going to miss the opportunity to see God's powerful influence in student's lives up close and personal. No, I am not going to miss sleeping on floors, dressing in closets, doping up on caffeine and mothering the masses. Until they ask me to go as a parent volunteer!!

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Prayer Requests...

I leave for Chicago in the morning for a mission trip. I am driving with 40 some odd high school kids in vans to the inner city. Can you hear the energy in my voice?

This is my final mission trip with HS students. It is a beautiful bittersweet moment. Beautiful to be part of watching God's transforming hand touch and shape students eternally through the opportunity to serve and extend beyond themselves. Bitter being the oldest person on the trip!

This is an amazing privilege. A joy and gift. I want to grab and suck the marrow from but instead all I can think about is: will they have coffee?

Does that question reflect my spiritual maturity? I hope not. I am thinking it just reflects how chronologically mature I am. I am the old lady obsessed with finding enough mattress things to sleep on so my back won't hurt all week. I am so old I went by AAA to make them show me the best route to Chicago. (*I am glad about this one since all of Iowa is flooded and we wouldn't been in detour heaven.) I have packed my own food filled with fiber so I wouldn't get all backed up while traveling. (does that sound like your grandmother??) I packed my little eye covers so I could block all the light in the gym that we will be sleeping in. (and I have the matching ear plugs!) Let's see, I also carry a magic bag with everything from band aids to Gas-x. Yes, I have become my mother!

I remember the trips I took when I was young and carefree. I looked forward to staying up all night with the girls whispering and telling stories. Now, all I can think about is: will there be anytime to catch a moment alone to refuel and refocus? I loved driving forever, singing with the students and telling our life stories. Now, I am so worried about safety and protection of the students. I clench the wheel so hard my wedding ring is the shape of a triangle. I have so much to trust Christ with for the week, I invite you to pray for us.

So please pray for:
Safety and protection out and back to Chicago.
Pray for students to radically be transformed by the powerful influence of the Holy Spirit moving in their lives.
Pray for more of Christ and less of me. less and less and less of me.
Pray that our team of students would extend to the ones that are new to our group. That they would have servant spirits, joyful hearts and sincere love for one another.
Pray against a spirit of opposition or division...that would like to distract and destroy the work that could be accomplished on behalf of Christ.
Pray for those who we will be ministering to, that they would be open to the Holy Spirit and that the Lord would be glorified.
Pray for my spirit, that I would not be the bitter old lady on the trip.

I hope you hear from me sometime next week after I recover. For the record, I packed my own light Starbucks coffee, in case you were wondering! Thanks for praying. Have a good week! We'll miss you JULES!!

Saturday, May 31, 2008













If I ever do come back in a reincarnated form (which I fully do not believe will happen) I would like to be a photographer. Not one of those wedding photog types. No, I was a wedding coordinator a lifetime ago and I can whole-heartedly say I would rather have my teeth pulled one at a time then go on the wedding circuit.


No, I would be the Ansel Adams lady. Yup, just travel the world with my trusty camera and capture life as it happens. Would that be so fun?


It would require some education in the finer art of photography. Maybe some classes on lighting and staging. It would be cool to take a Photoshop class and learn how to edit and manipulate the pics too! I wish I could say that is a priority right now, but it is not. Neither is storing my pics in organized books with creative captions and pretty pages. No, that ain't happening either.


I am simply about the shot.


I have recently done a wall with some of my prints. I would like to say that are all really snazzy and cool but honestly some are grainy and a little too dark, but they are a piece of the creative me. The part that rarely comes to surface.

I used to paint. I was terrible but i loved the act of quieting my spirit and spilling colors all about a canvas. They were not pretty, abstract, or worthy of display, but they were the demonstration of the discipline to create.

I think the creating thing must be innate to all of us, huh? We were wired this way from the Master creator. Doesn't everyone have a creative, artistic side to them? They surface in different and unique ways, all worthy of appreciation.
How 'bout you? How do you express your inspired self?

Friday, May 23, 2008

Mother's day surprises!



I haven't had time to post about the amazing gifts I got for Mother's day. One was this handmade box designed by my darling little ten-year old boy. The teacup and saucer were hand-crafted by my 7 year old daughter. My husband took me to see Wicked and my oldest gave me a card.

The most unique surprise goes to my sweet baby girl who used her heelies to fly down a debris infested hill to land squarely on her face. The ten stitches above the eye really was the gift. I thought she swiped her nose completely off her face the way she tripped over the twig and slid down the blacktop. It was frightening.

Have you done the head wound thing before? If not, think blood, lots of blood. I have seen this in action and so, I was not surprised as I lifted her off the pavement to see her face covered in the red velvet goo. Thankfully, it was only the eyebrow. God clearly grabbed her little face and protected her from complete reconstructive surgery. This I am certain.

Guess I had to put a little space between Mother's day and now to relive the dreadful moment. I think I feel guilty that I enabled the accident. Because she is so skilled on the wheeled shoes, I have never been fearful of an accident. The child is a master. She could totally earn Olympic gold on those silly things. So, I confess when she begged to go up a hill before bedtime, I conceded. Of course, no problem. 15 minutes to the park and back. No worries. In fact, she even had her nightgown on with sweats over it because this outing was to be so short and sweet.

Did I mention my older son was with us? He was propped high on a 8 foot brick column at the foot of the hill his sister ascended. He was the one I originally worried might break his neck. He was the one who had the phone to call dad. He was the one that chimed, "Well, that was a good idea to go down the hill, MOM!"

2 hours, 10 stitches and 100 bucks later...we were back at home. Thanking God for one of those Mother's days that will go down in infamy. The one that years from now will be replayed by the kids as the year mom dragged little sis to the giant hill and forced her to roll down face first into the blacktop. I can hear them now. Happy Mother's Day!









Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Junior High days....ah...the memories.

My oldest son is in the throws of adolescence. He is treading through the dreaded days of Junior High. I have been reliving my own moments through his sincere effort to find himself in this space and time.
He has been spending lots of time texting young ladies. It is a bit disconcerting for me, the momma. He sits beside me and sweetly requests advice on how to best tell his best friends love interest that he does not want to sit by her at the movie because it may hurt his friend's feelings. To which she responds, in some typical pouty jr. high girl way touting depression over how all she wanted was to "hang out!" He gets worried and tries to text back. "I think we should invite more people and make it a big party." She whimpers, "then I will never talk to you." He counters, "It's just the end of the year movie. We won't be able to talk anyway." She doesn't respond. He feels bad. OMGoodness. This is so JR. HIGH!
I appreciate so much that my son is trying to spare the feelings of all those he cares about. He sincerely wants to work all details out to please everyone. Which in Jr. High is never going to happen.
I remember the days of brooding in my room littered with glowing candles and playing the Heart song, Dog and Butterfly over and over and over again. Instead of texting we would linger for hours on end on the phone. (Which honestly, i think made our generation a much better communicative generation then these up coming ones with all their impersonal technological gadgets to speak through, text, im or whatever. )
The issues still haven't changed. Relationships. They are complicated. Boy likes girl. Girl doesn't like boy. Trouble ensues. Life sucks. Boy likes other girl. Girl still doesn't like boy. Now the first girl is interested in the boy who has since given up on that girl and is spreading vicious rumors and life still sucks. Insert your own silly scenario. Drama, oh the drama. When will it end?
I know I went through lots of candles and melancholy music in my junior high years. I know I was just like the girl my son texted last night on the phone. I worked hard to find my identity through dating the perfect boy at the skating rink.
My man ended up being several years my senior. He was mature and seemed to have it all together. In retrospect, all he had was the uncanny ability to skate backwards and the authority of being a "skate guard" which in those days was quite the varsity status. His greasy black hair and lack of intellect did not seem to factor in when I invited him to one of my babysitting jobs to hang out. Now, you may wonder who was lacking the brain power since every good teenage girl knows you are NEVER, EVER supposed to invite friends, especially BOYS, over to the houses you babysit, right? Well, apparently if you have been sucked into the Junior High "Boy" bubble you shape shift into stupid and that is not where my brain power ended, it gets worse. I leave the children unattended and proceed to make out on the side of the house with the slimy skate guard. Yes, this is very irresponsible. Yes, I am completely mortified that I did that. Yes, it is a turning point, one that will forever alter my moral compass and impact the rest of my life. Did I get caught? Heck yes! I was in my own neighborhood for pity sake! The guy next door was washing his car and saw us, told the family and they called my parents. Nice, huh? Proud moment. Not really.
So, I take that special memory and turn it into a teachable moment. I am reminding my sweet son that there are wacky girls just like his mom looking for sweet boys to give them their identity and build their self-confidence and he must proceed with caution. All the girls in his circle of life are doing the same thing he is and that is trying to find out who they were created to be. They tread through this season in trial and error in hopes of finding their skate guard moment. The pinnacle place when it all comes together and they release who they are NOT.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

It's spring and you know what that means....shorts and sleeveless tops are coming back in~! Yes, I love that! I am so psyched to expose my pasty legs and arms to the world. So excited in fact, I have been regularly trying to tighten my loose skin up by hitting the gym a little more regularly.

Gym life is interesting. If you have ever been a regular you know what I am talking about. People join clubs, gyms, athletic centers for a mirad of reasons and often the place you join explains why.

The "club" I work out now is not the typical gym. I have done the Bally's, Club LeFemme, Planet Fitness, Dales Athletic club...just to name a few. Each club has its own sort of environment/vibe, if you will. Not all gyms are created equal. I love to sweat. So, no matter what my size I have always been a gym rat. I love it.
In my young pre-children days I went to Bally's. It was mostly singles and it was high cardio/ big business. It was loud and fun. Then I had a couple of kids and gained some weight and didn't want to subject myself to all the tight tiny singles at Bally's.
I moved on. I felt safest at the all womens club. It was great from that aspect. No men, no judgement. Less self-loathing. I tried to believe that they would be able to care for my children during my one hour...but after hearing a child scream bloody murder through an entire class I decided we needed a change.
After the 3rd kid and a choice to homeschool (for a season), I joined the family gym with the awesome childcare. It was a place filled with all shapes and sizes. (Did I mention that I love to take classes? My high social need continues to propel me into all sorts of group fitness classes). I met some fantastic people at Dales. It was great for a season. Then my kids quit going and the club started feeling less and less homey and I begin to resent the old equipment and mildewy shower. That is when I stepped up my game and made ME a priority.
I joined the snotty club with the day spa and food court included. It is by the far the most glamorous gym I have ever been in. The lockers are made of cherry and have their own locks built in. They provide everything. No more lugging my hairdryer, shampoo or conditioner. It is such a splurge. But with the beauty and majesty of the amazing gym comes the beauty of those that can afford it.

Today while spinning my legs off in my cycling class. I peered around the dimmed room to see all these teeny little butts looking back at me. Of course there is NO way in hades I plop my giant anus in the front row for all the little ladies to stare at. No indeed, I stay in the farthest corner and think to myself "I believe my entire hand is the same size as this little woman's rumpus." It is nuts. I know these gals all have children too. They talk about them. I see them walking to their cars. It is CRAZY>! Today one of the waifs pulled her shirt off in the middle of class I nearly gasped, "dear child, I can see your ribs through your back!!" I almost dove off my bike and began searching through my gym bag for a protein bar or a buck so she could go buy a nibble to hold her over.
Now, the question is...how did Brenda end up in a place like this? Can you hear the song? One of these people doesn't belong here?
My goal in staying at this gym is to really educate the little people. I feel like I add a certain level of motivation for those itsy bitsy folks. I work hard to break the stereo types that thick people can't keep up or full-figured friends don't have the same cardio capacity. I am keeping it real for all those little people.
I will confess that I have told the Lord if he would ever allow me to be a teeny butted woman that I will never take my shirt off and I will always stay in the back row and I will never flaunt my washboard abs and ass of steel. This is my covenant. You can keep me true.

Friday, May 2, 2008

It's Business time....

Ok friends...this video link is one that I find completely and utterly hilarious! I will confess it is probably not that funny to anyone who has not been married for over 15 years. So be warned.

We made the mistake of showing it to our lifegroup friends and several of them are newlyweds. I thought they looked a little saddened and disgusted by the complete disregard of romance and sincerity. I had to giggle inside and say a little, "just you wait...you will see how funny this is in just a short little decade and a couple of kids later..." Instead, I tried to stifle my instinct and act a little put out by the irreverence of the whole thing.

All to say, this one is real life funny to me. If you need a little giggle give it a shot. Let me know what you think. If the link doesn't work just look up flight of the conchords on youtube. It's under Business time. :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WGOohBytKTU

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Spring Fun.....

















Here is my spring! I am all about running after my beautiful children enjoying each of their fantastic activities and ending up with a house that looks like this... nice, huh?
Sidebar: Wish someone could help me figure out how to format pictures correctly!!
Anyway, some of you dear ones have been wondering what I have been up to and clearly, it is not cleaning my house. This is just a little glimpse of the kitchen. My son stood beside me while I loaded these and he suggested I take some pictures of the cleaner areas of the house so I would not be so ashamed. How authentic would that be??

This season is filled with mayhem. The good mayhem that you will look back upon fondly and wish you could recapture. Today is silly mayhem. Three kids, four sports, 3 scouts, campouts, tournaments, women's retreat, graduations, award assemblies, talent shows, field trips and a baptism. All these are beautiful, special, fun events of this once in a lifetime moment that we are sharing. But up close and personal it is kicking my tail.

What kind of mother subjects herself and her family to all this stuff? The kind of poorly balanced woman who doesn't want her kids to miss out on a thing? The kind of woman that cannot say No? The kind of woman that uses the refrigerator for not only a bulletin board but also a medicinal friend? Who is this woman and how did I become her?

I wish I could be quippy and cute and respond in some way introspective verbage that would reflect the depth of my character and the magnitude of my self-awareness but alas, I am not that cool.
All I know is this is a beautiful season in life. My path will only cross here once and if it means filth runs rampant and my hips are wider then I like...so be it. I am about enjoying every minute of seeing these sweet treasures spread their wings and fly in any and every direction they want to try.