Wow. It's been a while.
I'm still here. Too busy to be dead - definitely too busy.
I stopped for just a minute today to catch up on emails and a shameless plug for two of my fav artists right now. I like all genres of music because I believe everyone has something significant to say and add to my life; otherwise, why would God have them cross my path? Who knows what you miss out on in life if you get offended by an action or opinion or belief and then shut people out? Artists are each unique and I wish I could be one. Even just for a day. I'd LOVE to travel on the road with a favorite musician.
So, these artists just happen to be Christian artists - the kind of Christian artist I would be if I could sing even a note like these people.
If only there would have been musicians out there like these when I was in high school, my high school life would have been totally different...I like to think that, at least. Maybe it would have been free and fun and fostered an authentic relationship with my Savior. So much time was wasted before setting out to find that.
Anyway... So now, I shamelessly live and promote the music I love. I embarrrass #1, because she's 14 and because I would be embarrassed if I could see myself, I'm sure. God chose ME to give life to so I'll embrace it and love it and live it alive...even when it hurts and life hurts alot. I'll pass life on to those around me until the day mine ends and hopefully, I can pass it on more alive than it was passed to me.
God didn't give us but one gift. Everyone always gets stuck on that one BIG ONE - you know the one, the ticket out of hell. Life, love and free will is a gift; children are a gift; sushine a gift; mosh pits in chapel - yes! a gift (and I love to go to chapel and see the kids enjoy it) creme' brulee is definitely a gift and being able to pass on to the next generation a vibrant, authentic love of the Father is a gift too often squandered.
I love to dance and to be free and to be me. I've just uncovered the joy of free will and living a life-alive in the last several years. So, not being one to live in the past, I live now without concern as to what anyone might think and it's VERY empowering. When you live free in Christ, people get confused and they fear and sometimes you can open their eyes and change their life. Weird, huh, because that too, is a gift - being His hands. With that said, I'll be getting a stud in my nose soon. Just a little F.Y.I.
This blog is often random but so is life...and life is not waiting on me so I must go. Now,
shameless plug #1 and shameless plug #2.
5 Kids 1 Great Journey
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
New Year, New Monsters
Just when you think you have your kids figured out, they turn into full-raging hormone zombies. So you learn to deal. No biggie.
Then one day, you're shopping at Walmart and you see your twelve-year-old, male zombie turn his face and there grows a long, stray hair. You panic - How did I not see that before now? What kind of MOTHER am I? What's happening? Where did IT come from?!? Gross! OMGosh. Where am I? What's my name? What do I do - buy a razor right now or do I wait? Does one, long hair constitute that expense? Do I tell him? Does he already know? Eww. Who is this creature? I wanted to scream, "SOMEONE PLEASE PINCH ME; I'M HAVING A TERRIBLE NIGHTMARE!!" I had a fleeting thought of jumping the Pharmacy counter, shoving the pharmacist, security guard and whoever else got in my way, to the ground and then downing a bottle of Prozac like a raving lunatic.
I was spinning in that Twilight Zone vortex, in the middle of Walmart, having all of those thoughts. Can you imagine? But then...
I had that Aha! moment (you know what I'm talking about) - I'll just pluck it out with my tweezers while he's sleeping and he'll be none the worse for not knowing, right? So, you tell your husband the plan and instead of conspiring with you like you know he should, he tells you you're crazy and proceeds with a puffed-up chest and pride-filled, father-face to reminisce about the day he started shaving. You start reminiscing about smothering him with the pillow while he's sleeping (before you pluck the stray hair off your son's face, of course, because he might wake up and you don't want any witnesses.)
You go buy some Calgon.
It doesn't take you away.
At least you can somewhat understand your fourteen-year-old female zombie...
Three days a week.
So, you're driving home with said female zombie last night after her ballgame. They won and yet she looks really down so you start simple...
So, you won!....we played terrible
Yeah, I noticed your head was somewhere else - you okay?...head nods
Have a headache?...head shakes
Hungry?...more shaking
Tired?...still more shaking
Wanna' talk about it?
*sniffling, eyes blinking holding back tears*
Everything okay with you and Billybob*?
No. We broke up. *sniffling, quiet sobbing*
Of course now I start sniffling and blinking back tears, driving with blurred vision.
We talk little the rest of the way home and I respect her space. In time, I suppose... or they could get back together tomorrow. We get home and she showered, ate, read a book, did homework, watched TV; all the normal things but now with a somber look on her face. It's killing me. I look at her and like those commercials, see her three years old with strawberry-blonde pigtails and freckles, sad about a stuffed toy that the dog tore up. Ah.
Of course, I'm still wanting the details; to know what happened.
So, G comes home, we converse quietly in the kitchen and he goes in and tucks her into bed (which she normally doesn't request anymore) and they talk! Booger!
He decides that pulling her out of a class today and going for ice cream might help the sting fade faster. He always gets all the fun *sticking out tongue*. Maybe I should teach our male zombie how to shave. Ha!
I live with a house full of monsters...and I love it.
So, what's up with you? Dish.
*name changed to protect the little punk. :0)
Then one day, you're shopping at Walmart and you see your twelve-year-old, male zombie turn his face and there grows a long, stray hair. You panic - How did I not see that before now? What kind of MOTHER am I? What's happening? Where did IT come from?!? Gross! OMGosh. Where am I? What's my name? What do I do - buy a razor right now or do I wait? Does one, long hair constitute that expense? Do I tell him? Does he already know? Eww. Who is this creature? I wanted to scream, "SOMEONE PLEASE PINCH ME; I'M HAVING A TERRIBLE NIGHTMARE!!" I had a fleeting thought of jumping the Pharmacy counter, shoving the pharmacist, security guard and whoever else got in my way, to the ground and then downing a bottle of Prozac like a raving lunatic.
I was spinning in that Twilight Zone vortex, in the middle of Walmart, having all of those thoughts. Can you imagine? But then...
I had that Aha! moment (you know what I'm talking about) - I'll just pluck it out with my tweezers while he's sleeping and he'll be none the worse for not knowing, right? So, you tell your husband the plan and instead of conspiring with you like you know he should, he tells you you're crazy and proceeds with a puffed-up chest and pride-filled, father-face to reminisce about the day he started shaving. You start reminiscing about smothering him with the pillow while he's sleeping (before you pluck the stray hair off your son's face, of course, because he might wake up and you don't want any witnesses.)
You go buy some Calgon.
It doesn't take you away.
At least you can somewhat understand your fourteen-year-old female zombie...
Three days a week.
So, you're driving home with said female zombie last night after her ballgame. They won and yet she looks really down so you start simple...
So, you won!....we played terrible
Yeah, I noticed your head was somewhere else - you okay?...head nods
Have a headache?...head shakes
Hungry?...more shaking
Tired?...still more shaking
Wanna' talk about it?
*sniffling, eyes blinking holding back tears*
Everything okay with you and Billybob*?
No. We broke up. *sniffling, quiet sobbing*
Of course now I start sniffling and blinking back tears, driving with blurred vision.
We talk little the rest of the way home and I respect her space. In time, I suppose... or they could get back together tomorrow. We get home and she showered, ate, read a book, did homework, watched TV; all the normal things but now with a somber look on her face. It's killing me. I look at her and like those commercials, see her three years old with strawberry-blonde pigtails and freckles, sad about a stuffed toy that the dog tore up. Ah.
Of course, I'm still wanting the details; to know what happened.
So, G comes home, we converse quietly in the kitchen and he goes in and tucks her into bed (which she normally doesn't request anymore) and they talk! Booger!
He decides that pulling her out of a class today and going for ice cream might help the sting fade faster. He always gets all the fun *sticking out tongue*. Maybe I should teach our male zombie how to shave. Ha!
I live with a house full of monsters...and I love it.
So, what's up with you? Dish.
*name changed to protect the little punk. :0)
Monday, January 5, 2009
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Wishing You A "Doghouse-Free" Christmas
This was forwarded to me today and it made me laugh.
http://link.brightcove.com/services/link/bcpid1370868150/bctid3130509001
http://link.brightcove.com/services/link/bcpid1370868150/bctid3130509001
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Blindfolds and Blankets
What is it with my kids recently?
First #4 decides it would be a good idea to walk through his room, toys scattered everywhere, with a blanket covering his head. This is why some people think we evolved from monkeys.
*Boom!* Falls right on the corner of his wooden bed, with the impact to his eye area. His hands were caught under the blanket so his eye took the brunt.
No stitches but a big black eye for Halloween and a $30 visit to the pediatrician to check out his orbital plate. Results inconclusive but, Eureka! $1675 worth of xrays later, he's declared normal as can be...for a kid that likes walking blind. Thank goodness for Blue Cross and Blue Shield.
Three weeks later.....
#3, #4, and #5 decide to play a game. #1 who is babysitting doesn't think twice about blindfolding them all for the game; after all, it'll keep them quiet, right? I would have acquiesced, as well.
They all go tromping around the family room, crowded with family room stuff, building supply stuff and master bedroom stuff (we're remodeling). #3 *thinks*, "hmmm...I MUST be right by the sofa so I'm going to fall down and make everyone laugh."
Problem was she was actually right above my cedar hope chest.
*Boom!*
We're in the thrift store checkout line, enjoying our Saturday when we get the call. Everyone's calm so hubby says to put a wet washcloth on it and put pressure on it until we get home.
Five minutes later we walk in the door to a trail of blood leading to the bathroom and Molly holding back sobs. I take one look and there's no doubt she's getting stitches...again. This is the fifth or sixth time for her; we've lost count. I drive her to the Women & Children's Center at the hospital, walk into the pediatric ER and we're the only ones there - unbelievable.
$50, two hours and ELEVEN stitches later, we're on our way home for Motrin and some rest.
The bruising and swelling actually got worse until today. Thursday the stitches will come out at the pediatrician's office. That'll be $30 more. You'd think for $50, the ER could take the stitches out, as well.
There's been absolutely no horsing around for several days at our house now, per Mom's orders. It's been absolutely freezing outside so something's gonna' have to give in the next few days; hopefully, it's the weather.
First #4 decides it would be a good idea to walk through his room, toys scattered everywhere, with a blanket covering his head. This is why some people think we evolved from monkeys.
*Boom!* Falls right on the corner of his wooden bed, with the impact to his eye area. His hands were caught under the blanket so his eye took the brunt.
No stitches but a big black eye for Halloween and a $30 visit to the pediatrician to check out his orbital plate. Results inconclusive but, Eureka! $1675 worth of xrays later, he's declared normal as can be...for a kid that likes walking blind. Thank goodness for Blue Cross and Blue Shield.
Three weeks later.....
#3, #4, and #5 decide to play a game. #1 who is babysitting doesn't think twice about blindfolding them all for the game; after all, it'll keep them quiet, right? I would have acquiesced, as well.
They all go tromping around the family room, crowded with family room stuff, building supply stuff and master bedroom stuff (we're remodeling). #3 *thinks*, "hmmm...I MUST be right by the sofa so I'm going to fall down and make everyone laugh."
Problem was she was actually right above my cedar hope chest.
*Boom!*
We're in the thrift store checkout line, enjoying our Saturday when we get the call. Everyone's calm so hubby says to put a wet washcloth on it and put pressure on it until we get home.
Five minutes later we walk in the door to a trail of blood leading to the bathroom and Molly holding back sobs. I take one look and there's no doubt she's getting stitches...again. This is the fifth or sixth time for her; we've lost count. I drive her to the Women & Children's Center at the hospital, walk into the pediatric ER and we're the only ones there - unbelievable.
$50, two hours and ELEVEN stitches later, we're on our way home for Motrin and some rest.
The bruising and swelling actually got worse until today. Thursday the stitches will come out at the pediatrician's office. That'll be $30 more. You'd think for $50, the ER could take the stitches out, as well.
There's been absolutely no horsing around for several days at our house now, per Mom's orders. It's been absolutely freezing outside so something's gonna' have to give in the next few days; hopefully, it's the weather.
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