Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Midweek Confessions

I spent the early part of this afternoon doing one Back to School shopping, and if that weren't torture enough, I spend the latter part of the afternoon vacuuming dead stink bugs (and various other dead bugs) off my front and back porches. I am:

A) OVER back to school shopping. It was very exciting when my kids were in early elementary. Look!! At all the new notebooks! Look!! New bookbags! And lunch boxes! And erasers and pencils and folders!! However! Over time, I have learned that when my children's teachers require new notebooks, it usually means that said notebooks will come home at the end of the year with between one and possibly ten pages used out of it, but does this mean that I can reuse the notebook (or folder, or what have you) the following year? Nope. Because it is almost guaranteed that the new teacher will require one red, one yellow and one blue notebook, and I have one orange, one purple and one green at home. At some point, I will have enough partially-used notebooks to fully supply my children for the remainder of their school career. 

I mean really. And no, the kindle isn't part of the school supply list, although it would make my son's day if it were. See #D. 


B) OVER outside work. Luckily for me, this afternoon I felt a raindrop on my head, therefore I was forced to retreat indoors. Unluckily for me, the weeds will continue their Rapid Regrowth Project anyway, which will aggravate and disturb me to no end. And in case you didn't know this, dead stinkbugs stink just as much as alive stink bugs, especially when you are vacuuming large quantities up due to the fact that you leave your front lights on all night long (I have remedied that situation, though). Because I was using a shopvac, and it forces air out the back of it at what I consider to be a high rate of, well, forcefulness, I could smell those nasty bugs the whole time I was vacuuming. Leaving me to wonder this: why those stupid bugs even exist. They are useless bugs who offer no function to society, and if there is something else in the food chain who is snacking on these creatures, I would suggest trying to lower the population of flies, gnats and mosquitoes that were flying dangerously close to my head today. Not only was I vacuuming up bugs, but I also discovered that birds have been leaving deposits all over my front porch due to the fact that they have discovered some prime real estate to build on, right on my very own front porch. I do not appreciate this very much, as it will take a pressure washer to remove that, and I was not in the mood to pressure wash today. (There actually is no good day to pressure wash ones front porch). And please don't come up with some "All Gods creatures are beautiful" or some such nonsense because I think we all know that God is actually the only one who thinks that. The Blobfish, for example, happens to be an extremely unattractive creature. Seriously. Look him up. H-O-M-E-L-Y. 


C) OVER Disney and their little Teen Beach musicals and their little Geek Charming movies. Not only is the acting subpar, but the content, which is aimed directly at my kids and their peers, is questionable, with their little "I know what boys like" songs and their little "Sun! Surf! Sand! It's a bikini wonderland!" lyrics. No, thank you Disney, you sneaky scoundrel, you bĂȘte noir, you heel. You have gotten "Cruisin' for a Bruisin'" stuck in my head for the last time. Not only have my innocent children recorded your cute little musical so they can watch it over and over while they sit like catatonic robots on the couch, but they have now asked for the soundtrack. The fact of the matter ismy daughter at an impressionable age and has already hinted at body image issues, and my son doesn't need to be thinking about a bikini wonderland! And what does that even mean, anyway?


And I will close with a final rant: I am D) OVER computers, iPads, electronics and the like.  First this: my computer has a virus, which will cost around $150 and some change to fix. Ugh. And this: if it were up to my son, he would face a screen and play some sort of game all the livelong day, and my daughter would be content to watch TV (see above). And maybe I would be content checking FaceBook and online shopping all day long (not really). But the point is, the weather is gorgeous, the skies are blue, the sun is shining, and instead of riding their bikes, they (we) want to sit and be entertained by things that don't actually exist

(But I don't think I could actually give up my electronics.)

Sigh. 

**I'm linking up with E over at emyselfandi.com, but can't include the link because I'm writing this on a tablet app. See #D. Again. 

Monday, July 29, 2013

All About Me?

Friday, the kids and I were playing on the computer--actually, we were rocking out to the likes of Guns n Roses, Bon Jovi, Surviver, Warrant...and I even threw a little New Kids On the Block in there. (I was trying to show my daughter that One Direction isn't the first and won't be the last.)

Listening to those songs brought back so many memories of junior high and high school, when hanging out with my friends and figuring out how to tease my bangs just a little bit higher were of utmost importance. 


It really doesn't get much cooler than me ;)




During that time, my self-confidence was shakey. I wanted to look better, be taller (or shorter, depending on the day), have better hair, better skin, tanner legs, shorter skirts, better clothes, a funnier personality...in one word, I just wanted to be cool. More than anything. And I was willing to make compromises to be cool. Like avoiding friends who might affect my "cool factor". Or being ashamed that I went to church, or knew anything about the Bible. Or refusing to wear clothes my mom bought me because they weren't the cool brand (I sooo wanted a pair of Guess jeans--actually, I sooo wanted to be Claudia Schiffer, the coolest of cool Guess models). I never allowed myself to think about how my actions affected my friends, my parents, my sister, or anyone else around me. I only thought of one person--ME. 

What the what?


I didn't want to realize it at the time, but making compromises to who I was came with a price. It always catches up to you at some point, and while I've changed over time, I was reminded once again just how self-centered I was as I allowed those memories to wash over me while we listened to those songs one YouTube. With all the good memories came some ones I'm ashamed of, and I wish I could go back and tell that high school girl that one day, high school won't matter, but your integrity, the stuff you're made of--that will.



Living a life that comes with regrets may be the way we think it has to be--after all, everyone makes mistakes. 

I haven't righted every single wrong I did as a teenager and young adult, but I have been washed white as snow by my Savior. My "I'm sorry" may be too little, too late for some, but I can change the way I act today so I'm living out what I believe instead of continuing the cycle of selfishness. It doesn't always happen for me. Some days I want to be selfish, I want to be catered to, I want to make compromises to who I am so I will be "cool". And some days, I don't win the fight (although some may debate if I actually do succeed in being very, very cool). But I do know one thing: at the end of the day, I can look up and ask for forgiveness. I can begin new each and every morning, and while it goes against the grain of what is popular today, I can remember this:

It's actually not all about me

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Living Out Loud

There are some things that my brain refuses to remember. Like, for example, what I did yesterday. Or where I last set down my phone. And there are some things that my brain absolutely refuses to forget, like how I wore a shirt to school when I was in middle school that had the name of Jesus boldly emblazoned across the front. Why does that even matter? And why can I not forget how I confident I felt that day putting it on and how ashamed I felt of my choice once I got to school?


It's not like anyone ever said anything to me, or looked at me funny. (Okay, so they probably did, but that's a middle school kid for you. They simply cannot be explained.) I just remember wanting to be like and look like everybody else. I was (am!) introverted but wanted lots of friends, wanted to fade into the background but also be well-liked, wanted to do the right things but not be challenged on them. I wanted to hang onto my faith but not live outside my comfort zone, which meant that while I was okay going to church and wearing a youth group tee-shirt at home, I felt like I stood out at school.

I haven't changed that much as an adult. I'm still an introvert, although I've learned to be a little more outgoing, I still want lots of friends, I still want to be well-liked, and I still do not want to be challenged on the things I do that seem right to me. I still hang on to my faith but am not that comfortable living outside my comfort zone, even though that zone has gotten a little wider, which means I'm a little more comfortable sharing my faith with other people--as long as the format is plush and, well, comfortable.

The problem is that since my comfort zone has gotten stretched a little bit, I think that I'm living out my faith a little louder and that other people know what I think and how I feel about Jesus. In my mind, I've made perfectly clear where I stand. I mean, I've even told people that I'm reading the entire Bible. Really. Doesn't that say right away how important God is to me??

Does how I live indicate that He actually is my superhero? Does how I live indicate that I really believe that myself??

It wasn't until a conversation a couple of weeks ago where religion, politics, the Bible, and yes, even Jesus, were being discussed that I realized that maybe I don't live quite as loud or as valiantly as I thought I did. Add that to the book I'm reading (Crazy Love by Francis Chan, which happens to be incredibly challenging for me), and you've got someone who might need to do a double-take on how well she's actually fading into the background.

But I still probably wouldn't wear a bright blue tee-shirt with His Name boldly emblazoned in red with yellow sun rays bursting forth.

At least not the one I wore in middle school.

**Just as an aside, I no longer have the aforementioned tee, and any picture I ever had of me in said tee has either been lost or destroyed, so I simply could not share a picture of me in tee.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Life Is Beautiful

Wasn't I just saying on Monday that a simple life is what I'm after?

Yet here I sit today, frustrated because I can't seem to think of anything to write about. The kids are still sleeping (!), the house is quiet, I have some time to sit and actually think, and my mind is blank. No ideas, no issues (!!), no thoughts to expand on...

I googled images of blank thoughts and some odd stuff that has nothing to do with blank thoughts came up. Don't do a google image search of blank thoughts.

Mind you, it's all there, swirling around somewhere in the recesses of my mind, waiting for me to access the thoughts that keep me up at night. I'll think of them at the most inopportune time, wonder briefly why I didn't think of them earlier and scribble down an unintelligible note that I won't be able to decipher later.

When I woke up this morning, I was still tired and didn't want to get out of bed, so what does one do but check her e-mail and scroll through the FaceBook newsfeed? While I like FB and check it daily (sometimes I don't even know why, it can be a colossal waste of time), it seemed like this morning everyone had a negative vibe. Not what I wanted to wake up to. In my world, though, the sun was streaming in the windows and there was nothing to interrupt the thought that popped in my head: This is a beautiful life. It's not perfect and I've had my share of conflict and struggles, but it's still a beautiful life. Or, said better: Life Is Beautiful.

Rest and be thankful.
{william wordsworth}

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Baby, Get Your Shine On

So shine bright tonight, you and I
We’re beautiful like diamonds in the sky
{diamonds by rihanna}
 
 
There is very little in my day-to-day life that would cause me to say that I shine--much less shine bright like a diamond. It seems easy for Rihanna to say. After all, she's a huge pop superstar, with a beautiful voice and a face to match. This life that I live, which consists of cleaning toilets and taxiing kids around, doesn't make me feel much like I shine. In fact, I oftentimes feel dull in comparison to others. I question my own abilities and wonder if I just fade into the background of the daily grind.
 
This morning I was reminded that my shine just needs a little polishing.
 
"I am the light of the world...
The Holy Spirit who lives in you can shine from your face,
making Me visible to people around you...
Hold My hand in joyful trust, for I never leave your side.
The Light of My Presence is shining upon you.
Brighten up the world by reflecting who I AM."
{sarah young, jesus calling}
 

Monday, July 22, 2013

A Simple Life

As we were driving around on Saturday afternoon, we found ourselves on one of those quiet, windy back country roads where the curves outnumber the houses and the silence explodes into gentle breezes and chirping birds. Green grass seemed greener, blue skies seemed bluer, and the only words that my mind would form out of the loveliness was serene. My husband's question interrupted my thoughts. "Would you like to live out here?" My daughter was the first to answer with a quick "Nope", and my son wasn't too far behind with his "ummm...maybe...", but my answer wasn't so simple. I don't like windy roads (grew up on one) and I don't like not having neighbors, but I am inexplicably drawn toward what seems like a simple life. And I perceive these quiet farm houses with their tire swings and picket fences, far away from noise and traffic and crazy as simple. But is it really? It must take forever to get to the grocery store, and going to the mall must be a pain, not to mention taking all day. So what is this simplicity that I crave?


I have always loved the book The Bridges of Madison County, and not for the main plot, but for the story it tells of Francesca's simple life in her simple house, with her whitewashed walls and curtains gently waving in the breeze (okay, so that's only in my imagination, because her wasn't actually like that in the movie). But her life was anything but simple, as is obvious when her lover comes on the scene.

Could the simplicity I so want really be a state of mind and not circumstances, possible right here in the middle of hectic? Could I work at not being overwhelmed by life and instead work at taking it in pieces, getting my today in order before I worry so much about my tomorrow? What does that even look like???

There are, of course, a few changes I know I can make that will better my mental load. I can stop worrying so much about what I eat and how much I exercise (moderation is key). I can quit devoting so much brain power to how my house looks and how it is decorated. I can avoid thinking about me and what I want and start putting some effort into thinking about others. To be perfectly honest, I don't always want to do these things, so I don't. But the outcome is the same every time: too much me + too much me = a harried, agitated state of mind.

Which is what I've been trying to run away from while searching for the key to a simple life.

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? ..."
{matthew 6:25-34}



Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Love Your Family

Happy Wednesday!!

I'll be going offline for a few days so I can spend some time with my family--and not the kind of time we have been spending together, which has been interrupted, hurried, and a bit chaotic.

Meet me back here on Monday!

What can you do to promote world peace?
Go home and love your family.
{Mother Teresa}

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Project: Magnetic Chalkboard Door

I've been using the back of my closet door in the mudroom as a place to stick random notices, reminders, and general odds and ends that I need to keep for later but have no where to keep them. I had a magnetic dry-erase board stuck on the back of the door, but wanted a little more space to stick my stuff up, so when I came across Rust-Oleum's Magnetic Paint, I thought I had the perfect solution. 


Since this paint is only available as a primer, I decided to try Valspar's Chalkboard Paint as a top coat. I thought it might be cute to have a chalkboard that is also magnetic.


Here's how the door looked before I started:

I took off all the riffraff so I wouldn't embarrass myself with my lack of organization.

Rust-Oleum suggests applying three coats of the magnetic paint. Here's what the door looked like after coats one and two:


I wasn't having much luck getting magnets to stick after three coats, so I applied five coats on the areas I thought I would use the most. Here are some tips if you choose to use magnetic paint:

*First of all, this paint is super-thick, and you have to keep stirring it every so often to keep whatever they use to attract magnets (I use the term "attract" very loosely) from collecting at the bottom.

*Use this paint in a well-ventilated area. I thought my area was well-ventilated enough, but afterwards, I felt like I could taste the paint. Yuck!

*The directions suggest using a foam roller, which wouldn't work as well for my project because of all the grooves in the door. I used a regular paint brush. Be sure that whatever you use to apply it can be thrown away, since it doesn't clean up with soap and water. Also, when you use a brush, make sure you blend your brush strokes well. I found that after the paint had dried, I could still see some bumpy brush strokes.

*After five coats of magnetic paint, the magnets would stick (but only really, really light-weight ones, and they would slide down the door sometimes, especially when I tried to hang a piece of paper up). The pictures on the box suggest that you can hang picutures, papers, etc. up, but I haven't found that to be the case. IF I use two or three magnets, the thin paper MIGHT stay up, but you can forget anything thicker, like pictures.

You can't go much bigger than these tiny magnets, and they don't have much oomph behind them. Be prepared for your magnets to slide down the door!

*Magnetic paint has a very rough texture, which looks just okay, and isn't that great when trying to use the surface as a chalkboard.

*All in all, I wouldn't suggest using magnetic paint. Usually when something seems too good to be true, it is.

The chalkboard paint was much easier to use and has so far turned out exactly how I expected. It doesn't erase all that well, especially because I have the magnetic paint under it, but it looks cute and its serves it purpose on my door. I choose to use two coats of the chalkboard paint just to be sure I covered the magnetic paint.

Here are some tips on using chalkboard paint:

*It has more of the consistency of regular paint, so dip your brush sparingly, and don't paint too thick of a coat on.

*It cleans up well with soap and warm water.

*Lowe's has tintable chalkboard paint, tintable in 10 different colors, like green, pink, purple, navy blue and apricot. I initially chose pink tinted paint, but quickly found that it would take too many coats to cover the black magnetic paint, so I scrapped that idea and traded the pink in for black. However, any of those colors would be super cute! Just make sure you buy chalk that you can see on whatever color you choose. I only painted a section of my door pink, but here's a close up of how the pink looked on top of the black.


*The can suggests waiting 24 hours in between coats and before use, so plan on making this a weekend project (or a day longer if using the magnetic paint).

Here's the final product:

Monday, July 15, 2013

Sweet Little Ones

Honestly, I thought to myself. This is ridiculous.

The fact that my children take no more pride than they do in cleaning up is ridiculous (to me, anyway). They are old enough to know better than to leave empty granola bar wrappers laying on the basement floor, and certainly old enough to hang their own clothes up in their own closets (and not leave them all over the floor of her closet, which is the habit of a certain someone...). It's probably mostly my fault, because it's easier to do it myself than to have them give a half-hearted "try". They don't want to, and I don't make them often enough.

They can be so frustrating sometimes.

So I was looking forward to having a few hours to myself to clean and do some chores around the house while my kids were at the movies with their Grandpa. I'll do laundry and change the sheets and clean the kitchen and it'll be nice and quiet,  and then I'll go to the gym and I won't have to feel guilty about not spending time with them while I'm cleaning. We said our good-byes (Grandpa sweetly invited me to go along, but I was uninvited by my sweet little ones), and out the door they went. I walked back into my quiet house...and my quiet house seemed empty. No running feet, no Mama, will you play dollhouse with me, no idle chit-chat.



Dirty clothes on the floor, candy wrappers in the basement, toys strewn from one end of the house to the other...in the moment, I am exasperated and annoyed, tempted to speak firmly (a.k.a. yell, but we don't yell in our house...) to move them into action and to be aggravated at their procrastination, spending all our time at odds with each other. But as I moved some flip-flops to their proper home, and moved a toy back downstairs, it hit me suddenly how much I enjoy and value my relationship with my children, and how much I miss them when they are gone.

 



Parenting is hard. It's exhausting. It's irritating. It's joyful. It's fun. They bring a smile to my face and they make me laugh. It's the most important job I have. Bringing up kind, loving, responsible human beings isn't easy. It's a huge responsibility, and sometimes I don't feel like I'm up for the challenge.



That's when I have to turn to Someone whose shoulders are much bigger than mine, Someone who can love me so I can love my kids, Someone who can be patient with me so I can be patient with them, Someone who can take my mess and failures and turn them into good...Someone who can show me what being a good parent is all about.

Friday, July 12, 2013

FMF: Present

Linking up with Lisa Jo over at lisajobaker.com for Five Minute Friday!

Present

Well, I'm not gonna lie, the first thing I think about when I see this word is presents. As in gifts. As in I like'em A LOT. It doesn't take long looking at a new Pottery Barn or Restoration Hardware catalogue to wish I had more (or maybe just different) stuff. Before long, I'm in a reverie about what I like, what I would do differently, what makes me happy. I think stuff makes me happy. And I really do like to be happy. The problem is, the happy doesn't stay, and then I need more stuff. Like my kids, I'm never quite satisfied with what I have, and can't wait til the next birthday, or Christmas, or the next major (or minor) holiday to gather more stuff.

I'm reading a new (to me-I think it's been out for awhile) book called Crazy Love by Francis Chan. Within the first chapter, it hit me: it's not all about me. Never was, never will be. {gulp}

It's always good to be reminded of this. Even though I already knew. I think I have gotten wrapped up in me. Again.

Kindof like in Job where God asks "Where were you when I laid the Earth's foundation? Tell me, if you understand." (Job 38:4), I realize that my happiness and my wants are not at the top of God's to-do list.

It's okay. I do know who it is all about.

The heavens declare the glory of God;
    the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
    night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
    no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
    their words to the ends of the world.

{psalm 19:1-4}

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Unpolished

It was the summer of 1990, and my youth group was on a much-anticipated trip to Busch Gardens in Williamsburg, VA. My mom helped me carefully pack all my clothes, toiletries, and odds and ends. We didn't have much discretionary income, but she took me shopping for new clothes anyway, and we prudently chose sale items that would work for a self-conscious, thirteen-year-old me. Including a pair of black shorts, which I chose to wear the day of the Busch Gardens trip.

That day was thrilling. My youth pastor set us loose in the park, only asking that we stay with a partner and meet back at a specific time. No parents telling me where to go, what to do, or what to eat? And roller coasters, rides and shows to keep me entertained all day long? And a "boyfriend" (who I really liked) to keep me company? For me, it was one of the best days of my whole entire thirteen years. So you can imagine the devastation I felt after I got off a water ride and discovered that my new black shorts, which my mother had not washed before I wore, had run little black rivers all down my legs and left little puddles of black on my perfectly positioned white crew socks and white off-brand Keds shoes. I was aghast, completely mortified, and sure that the entire park full of people was looking directly at my black-and-white striped legs. My friends did the best they could to help me wipe the black off with paper towels from the bathroom, but it stained my legs a weird gray-ish color, and there was no hope for the socks. My already fragile teenage confidence was shaken, and my insecurities surfaced full-force.

Sometimes, I still feel like that unpolished thirteen-year-old girl, with all her insecurities, all her awkwardness, all her gawky, ungraceful, floundering moments all wrapped up in an adult body. And I've noticed that when I start to feel uncomfortable, insecure or awkward, my first line of defense that I rely on is staying really, really quiet and concentrating really, really hard on how I look. But perfect hair and make-up, matching and coordinated clothes and accessories, or even staying perfectly skinny only masks what I'm truly feeling inside: like I'll never be enough, I'll never get it quite right, and that other people will not want to be around me if they knew the real me.

When it comes right down to it, I realize that I have a faulty operating system that defaults to an unhealthy attitude every time an uncomfortable situation arises. To set my world (and my security) right when I'm feeling off-kilter, all I have to do is remember where my security lies, and that's in the truth of God and His Word. Then I am reminded that I am the apple of His eye (Deuteronomy 32:9-11) and His crown of splendor (Isaiah 62:3).

It's not easy to reprogram a system that has been operating the same since before 1990, and my automatic default memory management routine needs some serious updating. But every time I take a step back-even for a second- and remember my God and His love for me, then my default is disrupted and a new order of business is written.

Do not conform to the pattern of this world,
 but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.
{romans 12:2}

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

No Strings Attached

It's been awhile, hasn't it??

I always expect summer to be this long, lazy, I'm-so-bored-I-don't-know-what-to-do type season (and my kids probably DO think this way), but for me, it's anything but long or lazy. Which leads me to this problem: I have no time to sit down and write my thoughts out. Which leads me to this problem: every good blog post I think of stays stuck in my head, only to be forgotten at the first mention of laundry or dishes.

I recently watched the movie Limitless about a deadbeat author who finds this miracle drug that allows you to access your entire brain instead of the small percentage we are accustomed to.  Urban myth or not, I'm fairly certain my brain doesn't perform at 100% all the time, which frustrates the heck out of me. In the movie, Bradley Cooper's character Eddie learns a language in 45 minutes, but--and this is a big one--if you suddenly stop taking this miracle drug, you'll die. Quickly. I'm not much for dying, or dying quickly, so even though I wish I could be at the top of my game all the time, I'll have to settle to just plain me.

Is just plain me a bad thing?

I feel like we are always striving so hard to improve--intelligence, power, looks, athleticism, energy, money (the list could go on, couldn't it?)--that sometimes I think we forget that being ourselves is okay. Good, even.

My daughter was really excited about Independence Day this year. She wrote a little "book" on why Independence Day was special to her. Now, mind you, my little scholar wrote nothing about why our country celebrates this holiday, but to her, it didn't really matter so much. What does matter to her, on July 4 and all the days after, is that she can be herself.

I like it when our family gets together because we can just be ourselves.

We don't have to put on airs of any kind, or be something we are not. We are loved, regardless of how many languages we can speak or how athletic we are. There is a grace offered by our family that allows for mistakes and mishaps, and that accepts the members of the family--no strings attached.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Midweek Confessions

I'm linking up with E over at E, Myself and I for Midweek Confessions!!


 
First of all, I must start this confession off with the truth: sometimes it's a lot easier to come up with all the ways I've fallen short over the past week than to come up with a smart, clever post on, well, anything else. Plus, I think Elizabeth is hysterical, and reading other people's posts on where they fall short makes me feel a little better...and anyways, I've been severely lacking in the consistency area when it comes to writing blog posts, anyway, because I seem to have forgotten how to manage my time.

And speaking of time management. I have a hard time with the whole concept anyway (just ask my father-in-law, who has patiently waited on me--and our time-oblivious family--to show up at a determined time on several-okay, many--different occasions). It's not that I don't care; it's that I don't pay attention to how long a task takes, therefore putting me at risk for running late more often than I'd like. But anyways, having my kids home for the summer, while fun and carefree, is a bit overwhelming for me, especially as they get older. It seems like I cannot get the things done that I want and need to do, but at the end of the day, I could not even begin to tell you why or what I've done with my day that prevented me from cleaning or whatever. Time is like this elusive shadow that slips away unnoticed--until you need it. Then it's G-O-N-E gone.

In other Confessions...

I truly do wish I had my very own lane to drive in. Like all the time.

Sometimes I eat my kids gummy vitamins rather than swallowing a vitamin in pill form because the gummies taste A LOT better. Sometimes I take both {gasp}.

The other day I was having a discussion about cuss words (and BTW, if you think your kids don't know them, think again. I knew my 10YO would know words like damn and bitch, but when the F word came out of her mouth--she was just telling me all the words she knew--my own mouth fell open, but I could not actually form any intelligible words) and why they couldn't listen to certain songs on YouTube. My son was arguing with me, asking which words this particular song said because he didn't hear any words that were inappropriate (of course not), so I just told them, outright, what words they said. "See why you can't listen to this song???" I asked, trying to prove my point. "Well, mom," my son said, "I only knew two cuss words, and you just taught me a third." {deeeeeeeeep sigh}

And lastly was this: it's not really a confession of my own as much as it is something that someone told me (this woman should have her own confession!) but I had to share because I thought it a bit...odd...I was working in the concession stand during one of my son's baseball games, and a woman came up to buy a hotdog--and also to let us know that China controls the weather (everyone knows this, according to her) and have been doing it for years so their crops will grow, which messes up our weather and makes it nasty here. (Wondering why we don't control our own weather so we don't have those big tornados...)

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Amber Alert

*UPDATE: I got word that this sweet girl has been found! I don't know any of the details, but I am glad she is safe with her family. Thank you so much for your thoughts and prayers.

In lieu of a blog post today, I wanted to share with you an urgent prayer request I got via e-mail this morning. A friend of a friend has a daughter who has been missing since last night. Apparently, she went out to the garage and never came back inside. While I don't know this girl or her family, I do have children and can only imagine the pain and fear she must be feeling right now. Here is a picture of the sweet baby who is missing:

Photo: IMPORTANT!!!My daughter Jade went out to the garage at around 9:30 tonight and never came back in. If anyone knows anything or has heard from her, please tell me.***
 
Her name is Jade and she is 13 years old. She is missing from the Quakertown area. Her mother and family are sick with worry and fear. I ask that you stop for a second and say a prayer for Jade and her family.

Monday, July 1, 2013

Revolution From Home post

Ok, folks, I don't normally do this BUT I could not help it, I HAD to share this post with you! I'll warn you now, it's long, but totally worth reading to the very end...and I need to thank Beth for daring to post her stretch marks--on the Internet!

Revolution From Home