Update: Thanks for your comments! This was something I had on my heart and wanted to share and discuss. Glad to have your input.
How careful are you about what you post on your blog? Have you blogged so long that you have become too comfortable?
To my knowledge, no one has suffered from a violent crime due to content they have posted on their blog. There have been cases of stalking and verbal abuse. Thus, I would like to share a few tips I have read and some of my own with you, my fellow bloggers, in an effort to remind all of us that we cannot be too careful.
1. Never post your full name or your home address.
2. Never use your spouse's full name.
3. If you choose to correspond with another blogger via email, do not assume they are who they say they are.
4. Carefully reconsider posting your children's pictures. This is hard. We love our kids and we love to share precious moments. Here's a tip- would you put that particular photo on a billboard on the interstate? The internet is just another type of highway. (Remember- more people are reading than are commenting.)
5. How much personal information do you share? Sports and church activities? Times and dates? Locations?
6. Consider past posts while writing your current posts. Have you given out information previously that may be connected with this information? If so, it could fall into the wrong hands.
7. Just because someone comments regularly on your blog, does not mean you KNOW them.
8. If you ever fall victim to a stalker or inappropriate, unwelcomed comments that make you uncomfortable, report it to the police and your internet service provider.
You can also vist the Federal Trade Commission's website for a wealth of information about online safety for parents and kids, as well as other consumer related tips.
Before you leave a comment that I "have put ideas in someone's head," please remember that these people are several steps ahead of us. Offenders and violent criminals outwit trusting victims every day.
These are personal choices that we all must make. Let's respect each other's choices, stay safe, and have fun!
I welcome your comments and discussion on this topic!
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Monday, October 23, 2006
My apologies to my vegan friends.
It's that time of year again. The air is cool. The leaves are falling. Moms are making soup for dinner.
And every catalog known to man is in my mailbox.
I must admit that I enjoy looking at catalogs. My grandmother always had a Sears Roebuck and a Spiegel in her home. We would sit around together looking at bedspreads and drapes from Sears. Sometimes Granny would order some curtains or a pair of pants.
She never ordered anything from Spiegel. She lived in a small town where there was one red light, two drug stores owned by two families, and one place to get barbecue. I had no idea where Spiegel was, but I guessed it was in New York City, on the same street as the Macy's parade. The clothing in Spiegel looked fancy and even odd. Still, Granny bought their catalog every year and we would look and dream.
These days you can order everything by catalog or online. I order online for some things, but I still love to sit on the sofa and flip through a real, paper catalog- the kind that comes from dead trees. So, when Fall arrives and all the catalogs are spilling out of my mailbox, I am in heaven.
Until the other day.
All year I receive mailings from normal stores like Pottery Barn and Chadwick's. This is the season when all of the unique ones arrive, just in time for Christmas shopping. Some of the catalogs are interesting and others are just downright disturbing.
I got a hunting catalog. This particular catalog is a lot like a dark comedy; it starts out perfectly normal and benign and ends up completely dark and sinister. The first few pages are full of lovely adds of fluffy slippers. How innocent and charming. Next, we turn to women dressed in warm, fuzzy sweaters and flannel pajamas. Then, we see male models in completely normal winter attire. For a moment, I thought I was browsing LL Bean.
Then, wham! Jim Carey morphs from the friendly cable guy to the creepy stalker who won't leave me alone. I turn the page and see hunting gear- not the normal camouflage print and bright orange.
Let's digress. I was born and raised in Georgia. My daddy hunted. His daddy hunted. My mama's daddy hunted. His daddy hunted. Every male in my family hunted. But, they were like most normal men who hunt- they got their gear from Sears or Wal-mart. They stayed in the woods for days, no baths and no gadgets. They ate vienna sausages and Spam, and drank coffee and sweet tea from a Thermos. They were, ya know, normal.
My husband doesn't hunt. He isn't against it. He just isn't interested. I am sure if we were stranded in the woods with no food to speak of and all the berries and vegetation were either poisonous or dead, that my husband could kill him a barr (bear). This would be out of necessity, not for sport. (His mother would be proud.)
Which leads me back to the catalog. It was addressed to me or current resident- not to my husband. That alone is almost as disturbing as the merchandise.
This catalog offers hunters things like badger-skin caps, GPS devices (in case you get lost in the woods, you loser!), and even portable heaters for the real sissies out there. There are fancy radios and flashlights, special comfy sleeping bags, and even stuff for your dawg. There are normal items like knives and guns. What's wrong with that phrase? The list could go on and on...
As disturbing and disgusted as I was, I flipped to the very last pages and laughed out loud. The last pages of this yuppy hunter catalog advertise hams and roasts! I guess after you have donned expensive gear, gotten lost in the woods, frozen nearly to death, and driven home empty handed in your Japanese SUV, you have to just pick up the phone and order your meat. You can even purchase gourmet cheese. (I have never seen my daddy eat his venison sausage with a slice of smoked cheddar.)
I considered writing the company to express my mixture of disgust and amusement, but I thought correspondence might encourage more disturbing mail-outs. And, I just don't want to take any chances. For now, I'll throw it out (now that I've posted on it) and lock my doors at night. You never know when Jim Carey may show up in a camouflage jumpsuit and night vision goggles.
PS. I went nuts with the italics (and parenthesis.) Consider me a rebel.
And every catalog known to man is in my mailbox.
I must admit that I enjoy looking at catalogs. My grandmother always had a Sears Roebuck and a Spiegel in her home. We would sit around together looking at bedspreads and drapes from Sears. Sometimes Granny would order some curtains or a pair of pants.
She never ordered anything from Spiegel. She lived in a small town where there was one red light, two drug stores owned by two families, and one place to get barbecue. I had no idea where Spiegel was, but I guessed it was in New York City, on the same street as the Macy's parade. The clothing in Spiegel looked fancy and even odd. Still, Granny bought their catalog every year and we would look and dream.
These days you can order everything by catalog or online. I order online for some things, but I still love to sit on the sofa and flip through a real, paper catalog- the kind that comes from dead trees. So, when Fall arrives and all the catalogs are spilling out of my mailbox, I am in heaven.
Until the other day.
All year I receive mailings from normal stores like Pottery Barn and Chadwick's. This is the season when all of the unique ones arrive, just in time for Christmas shopping. Some of the catalogs are interesting and others are just downright disturbing.
I got a hunting catalog. This particular catalog is a lot like a dark comedy; it starts out perfectly normal and benign and ends up completely dark and sinister. The first few pages are full of lovely adds of fluffy slippers. How innocent and charming. Next, we turn to women dressed in warm, fuzzy sweaters and flannel pajamas. Then, we see male models in completely normal winter attire. For a moment, I thought I was browsing LL Bean.
Then, wham! Jim Carey morphs from the friendly cable guy to the creepy stalker who won't leave me alone. I turn the page and see hunting gear- not the normal camouflage print and bright orange.
Let's digress. I was born and raised in Georgia. My daddy hunted. His daddy hunted. My mama's daddy hunted. His daddy hunted. Every male in my family hunted. But, they were like most normal men who hunt- they got their gear from Sears or Wal-mart. They stayed in the woods for days, no baths and no gadgets. They ate vienna sausages and Spam, and drank coffee and sweet tea from a Thermos. They were, ya know, normal.
My husband doesn't hunt. He isn't against it. He just isn't interested. I am sure if we were stranded in the woods with no food to speak of and all the berries and vegetation were either poisonous or dead, that my husband could kill him a barr (bear). This would be out of necessity, not for sport. (His mother would be proud.)
Which leads me back to the catalog. It was addressed to me or current resident- not to my husband. That alone is almost as disturbing as the merchandise.
This catalog offers hunters things like badger-skin caps, GPS devices (in case you get lost in the woods, you loser!), and even portable heaters for the real sissies out there. There are fancy radios and flashlights, special comfy sleeping bags, and even stuff for your dawg. There are normal items like knives and guns. What's wrong with that phrase? The list could go on and on...
As disturbing and disgusted as I was, I flipped to the very last pages and laughed out loud. The last pages of this yuppy hunter catalog advertise hams and roasts! I guess after you have donned expensive gear, gotten lost in the woods, frozen nearly to death, and driven home empty handed in your Japanese SUV, you have to just pick up the phone and order your meat. You can even purchase gourmet cheese. (I have never seen my daddy eat his venison sausage with a slice of smoked cheddar.)
I considered writing the company to express my mixture of disgust and amusement, but I thought correspondence might encourage more disturbing mail-outs. And, I just don't want to take any chances. For now, I'll throw it out (now that I've posted on it) and lock my doors at night. You never know when Jim Carey may show up in a camouflage jumpsuit and night vision goggles.
PS. I went nuts with the italics (and parenthesis.) Consider me a rebel.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Thirteen Things I Would Add To The Next Season Of Project Runway
1. I would add those girls from the runway Corelle wear commercial. Only, I think I want all of them to slip down so I can see that every pattern is shatter proof. Of course. Ahem, that is the reason.
2. Tim would show up for Laura's delivery in a special edition of the show.
He would walk in and say, "Doctors. Can we gather 'round? For your next challenge, we will have you deliver Laura's baby in the twinkling of an eye, all the while keeping her absolutely free of pain, her red coral lipstick unsmudged, and her red hair neatly coifed. The winner of this challenge wins nothing. The losers will be chewed out by Laura. No holds barred."
3. Each designer would have to design an outfit for a new mom. The mom will model the outfit on the runway, toddler by the hand, newborn baby on one hip, and diaper bag over her shoulder. Let's see who survives that one.
4. Jeffrey would return and have to remake all of those outfits in question on camera. (I know he was found innocent, but I am a cynic.)
5. The models would have to eat the leftovers of a happy meal before each show. ;>)
6. The judges would include 3 random shoppers from Wal-mart, Target, and JCPenney. None of them below age 20.
7. As part of the new mom outfit challenge, the outfit will have baby spit-up, permanent marker, ketchup, and one unknown mystery stain applied. Then the Tide and Gain people can fight over which product works.
8. Stacey and Clint show up as guest judges.
9. Instead of going to the recycling center, the designers must go to my closet and use all of the not so fashionable clothing to create a new design. Good luck.
10. Uli broadcasts her spectacular runway show from Miami, Brandy in the audience and paparazzi everywhere. Her really fun prints make her a household name. She walks out at the beginning of the show and says (in her German accent):
"So, I didn't win on Project Runway. Second is good. They told me to move to New York, that they were tired of Miami. Miami and the Florida lifestyle are who I am. So, here I am with celebrity orders and women flocking to stores to buy my dresses. Hey, Michael Korrs! This ain't New York!"
11. Michael Knight returns as a guest judge and challenges the designers to "Make your design the bomb!" One redneck design contestant misunderstands and actually makes a stink bomb. He is aufed.
12. Finally, Laura has her baby and Tim runs out in his Georgio Armani scrubs and says, "I have an announcement to make. It's a boy! And his name is not Jeffrey or Vincent."
13. The viewers choose the winner of the final 3 (or final 4.) Period. We are the ones buying the clothes, right?
1. I would add those girls from the runway Corelle wear commercial. Only, I think I want all of them to slip down so I can see that every pattern is shatter proof. Of course. Ahem, that is the reason.
2. Tim would show up for Laura's delivery in a special edition of the show.
He would walk in and say, "Doctors. Can we gather 'round? For your next challenge, we will have you deliver Laura's baby in the twinkling of an eye, all the while keeping her absolutely free of pain, her red coral lipstick unsmudged, and her red hair neatly coifed. The winner of this challenge wins nothing. The losers will be chewed out by Laura. No holds barred."
3. Each designer would have to design an outfit for a new mom. The mom will model the outfit on the runway, toddler by the hand, newborn baby on one hip, and diaper bag over her shoulder. Let's see who survives that one.
4. Jeffrey would return and have to remake all of those outfits in question on camera. (I know he was found innocent, but I am a cynic.)
5. The models would have to eat the leftovers of a happy meal before each show. ;>)
6. The judges would include 3 random shoppers from Wal-mart, Target, and JCPenney. None of them below age 20.
7. As part of the new mom outfit challenge, the outfit will have baby spit-up, permanent marker, ketchup, and one unknown mystery stain applied. Then the Tide and Gain people can fight over which product works.
8. Stacey and Clint show up as guest judges.
9. Instead of going to the recycling center, the designers must go to my closet and use all of the not so fashionable clothing to create a new design. Good luck.
10. Uli broadcasts her spectacular runway show from Miami, Brandy in the audience and paparazzi everywhere. Her really fun prints make her a household name. She walks out at the beginning of the show and says (in her German accent):
"So, I didn't win on Project Runway. Second is good. They told me to move to New York, that they were tired of Miami. Miami and the Florida lifestyle are who I am. So, here I am with celebrity orders and women flocking to stores to buy my dresses. Hey, Michael Korrs! This ain't New York!"
11. Michael Knight returns as a guest judge and challenges the designers to "Make your design the bomb!" One redneck design contestant misunderstands and actually makes a stink bomb. He is aufed.
12. Finally, Laura has her baby and Tim runs out in his Georgio Armani scrubs and says, "I have an announcement to make. It's a boy! And his name is not Jeffrey or Vincent."
13. The viewers choose the winner of the final 3 (or final 4.) Period. We are the ones buying the clothes, right?
Happy Birthday, Lori!
Be sure to visit Laurel Wreath today and wish her a very happy birthday. She had oral surgery a few weeks ago and still has her mouth wired. Let's wish for her a very tasty cheesecake shake! (She usually has her favorite cheesecake on her special day.)
Have a great day!
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Mama and Drama
I was reading Mommy Dearest's post over at Home Sweet Home. She tells the story about her little girl, a neon ink pen, and some pretty awesome carpet stain remover. Be sure to check it out.
Her post reminded me of the times my daughter cut her hair. Yes, times, not time. She has done it twice. The first time, she was about 3 years old. As soon as she had done it, she came to me and told on herself. The damage wasn't that obvious until I started to inspect her little head. OH! The stubble of bangs that remained made my jaw drop.
When I asked her why she cut her hair, she simply said,"I was hot."
The next day we went to my hairdresser and my daughter had the most fabulous bob hairdo in her preschool class. And, we also had a very long talk about how every kid cuts their hair once, and this was her one time. So, that meant she was done with the cutting hair rite of passage of childhood. The End.
Not.
It seems there was a sequel to this story and I was not consulted before publication.
It was last year. (I don't tell my child's age now due to safety concerns, but let's just say she is old enough to know better.) I was -yep- on the phone with Mama. You knew that one was coming. Kids always do these things when we are on the phone. The sequence of events went something like this-
Maggie the cat ran in my room and dashed under the bed.
My daughter walks in. "Mommy, Maggie won't let me brush her."
"Maybe Maggie doesn't feel like being brushed right now. Leave her be."
"But I want to brush her. She won't let me." Whine, Whine, Whine.
"Mama, let me call you back. I need to deal with this."
I hung up the phone and found Maggie still crouched under the bed. My daughter was in the living room.
"It is rude to interrupt me while I am on the phone. Unless you need something or you are hurt, just wait until I get off."
"Mommy, I cut my hair."
"What?!!!! Let me see! Oh, what did you do!? You know you are in trouble."
"I cut Maggie's hair, too."
"What?!!! Why?"
"She needed a haircut. She was hot."
Let me stop here and tell you the cat was fine. Ugly, but fine. Actually, because she is a long hair the gauging and chopping just looked like the cat version of "layers." Apparently, Maggie had been forced into our little apprentice groomer's fun and then ran away. The mad escape is when I saw her run under the bed.
Because my child was chasing her with scissors.
Never mind the "Never run with scissors" 11th commandment. No. We have to amend that rule to "Never run with scissors while chasing the cat."
I was surprisingly calm through the entire ordeal. My daughter had time out that evening, no tv, no movies, no fun. She also had to pay for half of the haircut that repaired the damage. I told her she would have had to pay for all of it if she had not told me. I also reminded her that every kid gets one time to cut their hair and her time had already run out. There was not supposed to be a second time.
When I took her to the hairdresser to repair the massive mess, she told the stylist "I cut my hair. And, there won't be a next time."
Her post reminded me of the times my daughter cut her hair. Yes, times, not time. She has done it twice. The first time, she was about 3 years old. As soon as she had done it, she came to me and told on herself. The damage wasn't that obvious until I started to inspect her little head. OH! The stubble of bangs that remained made my jaw drop.
When I asked her why she cut her hair, she simply said,"I was hot."
The next day we went to my hairdresser and my daughter had the most fabulous bob hairdo in her preschool class. And, we also had a very long talk about how every kid cuts their hair once, and this was her one time. So, that meant she was done with the cutting hair rite of passage of childhood. The End.
Not.
It seems there was a sequel to this story and I was not consulted before publication.
It was last year. (I don't tell my child's age now due to safety concerns, but let's just say she is old enough to know better.) I was -yep- on the phone with Mama. You knew that one was coming. Kids always do these things when we are on the phone. The sequence of events went something like this-
Maggie the cat ran in my room and dashed under the bed.
My daughter walks in. "Mommy, Maggie won't let me brush her."
"Maybe Maggie doesn't feel like being brushed right now. Leave her be."
"But I want to brush her. She won't let me." Whine, Whine, Whine.
"Mama, let me call you back. I need to deal with this."
I hung up the phone and found Maggie still crouched under the bed. My daughter was in the living room.
"It is rude to interrupt me while I am on the phone. Unless you need something or you are hurt, just wait until I get off."
"Mommy, I cut my hair."
"What?!!!! Let me see! Oh, what did you do!? You know you are in trouble."
"I cut Maggie's hair, too."
"What?!!! Why?"
"She needed a haircut. She was hot."
Let me stop here and tell you the cat was fine. Ugly, but fine. Actually, because she is a long hair the gauging and chopping just looked like the cat version of "layers." Apparently, Maggie had been forced into our little apprentice groomer's fun and then ran away. The mad escape is when I saw her run under the bed.
Because my child was chasing her with scissors.
Never mind the "Never run with scissors" 11th commandment. No. We have to amend that rule to "Never run with scissors while chasing the cat."
I was surprisingly calm through the entire ordeal. My daughter had time out that evening, no tv, no movies, no fun. She also had to pay for half of the haircut that repaired the damage. I told her she would have had to pay for all of it if she had not told me. I also reminded her that every kid gets one time to cut their hair and her time had already run out. There was not supposed to be a second time.
When I took her to the hairdresser to repair the massive mess, she told the stylist "I cut my hair. And, there won't be a next time."
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
It's A Meme, But Not Really
I am calling this post Totally Confused Tuesday.
It isn't really a meme, but it sounds like one. I was thinking about things in life that totally baffle my little, lost mind. And, of course, most of this profound cognition was in the car. It is amazing that I actually can keep my mind on the road, since it is usually wandering to other places.
1. When I put things in the recycle bin on my computer, do they end up in cyberspace on someone else's computer? Perhaps as a better, more well-written post?
2. If designers only use anorexic models, then how do they know that their clothes will look good on regular women? Ahem, they don't. So, why do they make fun of us and come up with these low rider jeans and terms like "muffin top?"
3. Why doesn't Martha Stewart ever trim her bangs?
4. If the chef at a fine restaurant uses substitutes in his recipe, then shouldn't my meal be cheaper?
5. Why can't toothpaste have an opening at both ends?
6. If you go to a buffet place for a birthday party, do they put a sneeze guard over the cake before you blow out the candles?
7. I think Santa must be diabetic by now.
8. Before the light bulb, I wonder if people had "candle moments."
9. Why does cat food come in flavors like "tuna, chicken, and shrimp?" Shouldn't it be "rat, squirrel, and bird?"
10. Why does everyone care about some guy named Jimmy Hoffa? I'm still looking for Waldo.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Monday Madness
The last few days have been a whirlwind of events. My husband had his outpatient surgery on Thursday and we have been busy ever since. We started out great, then last night had a turn for the worse. Today has been wonderful and we are starting to get back to a somewhat normal routine. Before I get all sarcastic, I do want to thank you for your prayers!!
Here are a few things I have learned from the last few days-
1. On the day your husband is scheduled to have any type of surgical procedure, do not promise to make caramel apples with your child for her entire class. In the event that you do make this promise, be sure that this is not your very first attempt at making caramel apples.
Tip- The caramel will stick to other objects including your kid, yourself, your clothes, every single utensil in close proximity and your kitchen table. Miraculously, you will have an epiphany in the midnight hour and discover that the hair dryer will melt the caramel so that you can scrape it off the table. You instantly consider this tip as your next Works For Me Wednesday Post.
2. Barbie dolls and stuffed animals become dangerous hazards when in the path of a man on crutches. Be sure to have your child remove them promptly or threaten time out, loss of privileges or bodily harm. Whatever works best.
3. A very fat black cat is also a hazard. The only way to control this is to keep her in the garage for the rest of the convalescent period.
4. Liquid doughnuts from Starbucks (with triple shot of espresso) become a necessary measure for staying coherent and alert.
5. The patient recovering is more important than folding laundry, showering yourself, and blogging. :>)
6. In the event that the patient suddenly has a headache and vomiting, one must go to the ER. Carter and Carol Hathaway will not be there to soothe away the aches. But, down the hall, you can find a vending machine with Pop Tarts. Your daughter will think this is cool.
7. If you become irritated with the ER physician and find his tone condescending, make sure you choose your comments carefully after he leaves the room. For example-
Me- "What he said was crap. (Turn to child) Oops. Sweetie, that is a bad word. Don't say that word. It isn't really a curse word, but it isn't nice. NEVER say it. Mommy shouldn't have said it. I got upset and it slipped."
Child- "Crap. C-r-a-p. Crap."
Husband/Patient- Grin from ear to ear
Tip- When selecting a new spelling word, be sure it is a word that can be repeated.
8. Once you leave the ER, the personnel will give you a hand out about vomiting. It is, in my opinion, quite educational and helpful. (In the tradition of quoting sea monkey manuals, I just have to share. I could not, even with the many shots of espresso and glasses of Diet Coke, make this up!)
Warning. If you are having dinner, put the taco down. Come back later. The material you are about to read may, in fact cause nausea. Or make you laugh taco sauce through your nose.
"Nausea and Vomiting
What is it?
Nausea is a feeling of sickness in the stomach, usually accompanied by the urge to vomit. Vomiting is the forceful ejection of the stomach contents through the mouth.
Who gets it?
Anyone.
What are the symptoms?
The symptom of nausea is a general feeling of sickness in the stomach. Just before vomiting, you may salivate considerably and begin to retch. "
Wow! I don't know about you, but I feel informed. Thank goodness for the person who takes time out of his life to research and write these educational references. And they say patient teaching is overlooked in today's health care system.
I hope that you have benefited from this post. As always, I am here for you. ;>)
Here are a few things I have learned from the last few days-
1. On the day your husband is scheduled to have any type of surgical procedure, do not promise to make caramel apples with your child for her entire class. In the event that you do make this promise, be sure that this is not your very first attempt at making caramel apples.
Tip- The caramel will stick to other objects including your kid, yourself, your clothes, every single utensil in close proximity and your kitchen table. Miraculously, you will have an epiphany in the midnight hour and discover that the hair dryer will melt the caramel so that you can scrape it off the table. You instantly consider this tip as your next Works For Me Wednesday Post.
2. Barbie dolls and stuffed animals become dangerous hazards when in the path of a man on crutches. Be sure to have your child remove them promptly or threaten time out, loss of privileges or bodily harm. Whatever works best.
3. A very fat black cat is also a hazard. The only way to control this is to keep her in the garage for the rest of the convalescent period.
4. Liquid doughnuts from Starbucks (with triple shot of espresso) become a necessary measure for staying coherent and alert.
5. The patient recovering is more important than folding laundry, showering yourself, and blogging. :>)
6. In the event that the patient suddenly has a headache and vomiting, one must go to the ER. Carter and Carol Hathaway will not be there to soothe away the aches. But, down the hall, you can find a vending machine with Pop Tarts. Your daughter will think this is cool.
7. If you become irritated with the ER physician and find his tone condescending, make sure you choose your comments carefully after he leaves the room. For example-
Me- "What he said was crap. (Turn to child) Oops. Sweetie, that is a bad word. Don't say that word. It isn't really a curse word, but it isn't nice. NEVER say it. Mommy shouldn't have said it. I got upset and it slipped."
Child- "Crap. C-r-a-p. Crap."
Husband/Patient- Grin from ear to ear
Tip- When selecting a new spelling word, be sure it is a word that can be repeated.
8. Once you leave the ER, the personnel will give you a hand out about vomiting. It is, in my opinion, quite educational and helpful. (In the tradition of quoting sea monkey manuals, I just have to share. I could not, even with the many shots of espresso and glasses of Diet Coke, make this up!)
Warning. If you are having dinner, put the taco down. Come back later. The material you are about to read may, in fact cause nausea. Or make you laugh taco sauce through your nose.
"Nausea and Vomiting
What is it?
Nausea is a feeling of sickness in the stomach, usually accompanied by the urge to vomit. Vomiting is the forceful ejection of the stomach contents through the mouth.
Who gets it?
Anyone.
What are the symptoms?
The symptom of nausea is a general feeling of sickness in the stomach. Just before vomiting, you may salivate considerably and begin to retch. "
Wow! I don't know about you, but I feel informed. Thank goodness for the person who takes time out of his life to research and write these educational references. And they say patient teaching is overlooked in today's health care system.
I hope that you have benefited from this post. As always, I am here for you. ;>)
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Like Mother, Like Daughter
After watching The Cheetah Girls 2 today, my daughter was working on some art.
This is what it said...
"We Love New York. This Ain't Spain. The Cheetah Girls"
This is what it said...
"We Love New York. This Ain't Spain. The Cheetah Girls"
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Thirteen Things I Love About My Husband
My husband is having outpatient surgery on his knee today (thursday), so please be in prayer for him. In honor of him, I want to share 13 things that I love about him.
1. He has always made me laugh. Not with normal, everyday humor, but with off the wall and sometimes, just odd humor. Hmmm... says a lot about me too.
2. He is the most wonderful Daddy. I say Daddy and not Father. Daddy is just a special word reserved for the best, loving and fun ahem Daddy's in the world. And, to a Southern girl like myself, a Daddy is always Daddy- even if you are 40 years old. I bet my daughter will call my husband Daddy for the rest of her life, too.
3. I respect my husband. Sadly, I don't think some women do.
4. He respects me. (And I try hard not to lose that)
5. He loves and respects God. Ok- Can I say that I should have listed this as #1?!
6. He's smart. We can actually debate each other and laugh later.
7. He is my best friend.
8. He washes the dishes without complaining.
9. He eats my cooking, too. Even the biscuits I made when we first married- the ones where I used plain flour in instead of self-rising. Can you say Hockey Puck? I got up from the table and made another pan. Oh, yes I did.
10. He took me to a Yanni concert, even though the guys at work made fun of him. That is how he is- giving. He remembers little things I have mentioned that I love. (like the wooden cigar Indian- he would soooo get me one if he found it)
11. He accepts that I am not perfect. He puts up with my many moods, my migraine headache days, and all of the little perks and quirks I have- like the post office, the library, and so on.
12. He gave me a kitten as a present- Maggie. We saw her while visiting the shelter one day. He went back and got her days later and brought her home. She was so tiny and unhealthy. She meowed all the way home, and she hasn't shut up since.
13. I know that I can live the rest of my life with him. What an honor.
I hope my thirteen wasn't too sappy for ya'll. I do have feelings, ya know. LOL
My husband is having outpatient surgery on his knee today (thursday), so please be in prayer for him. In honor of him, I want to share 13 things that I love about him.
1. He has always made me laugh. Not with normal, everyday humor, but with off the wall and sometimes, just odd humor. Hmmm... says a lot about me too.
2. He is the most wonderful Daddy. I say Daddy and not Father. Daddy is just a special word reserved for the best, loving and fun ahem Daddy's in the world. And, to a Southern girl like myself, a Daddy is always Daddy- even if you are 40 years old. I bet my daughter will call my husband Daddy for the rest of her life, too.
3. I respect my husband. Sadly, I don't think some women do.
4. He respects me. (And I try hard not to lose that)
5. He loves and respects God. Ok- Can I say that I should have listed this as #1?!
6. He's smart. We can actually debate each other and laugh later.
7. He is my best friend.
8. He washes the dishes without complaining.
9. He eats my cooking, too. Even the biscuits I made when we first married- the ones where I used plain flour in instead of self-rising. Can you say Hockey Puck? I got up from the table and made another pan. Oh, yes I did.
10. He took me to a Yanni concert, even though the guys at work made fun of him. That is how he is- giving. He remembers little things I have mentioned that I love. (like the wooden cigar Indian- he would soooo get me one if he found it)
11. He accepts that I am not perfect. He puts up with my many moods, my migraine headache days, and all of the little perks and quirks I have- like the post office, the library, and so on.
12. He gave me a kitten as a present- Maggie. We saw her while visiting the shelter one day. He went back and got her days later and brought her home. She was so tiny and unhealthy. She meowed all the way home, and she hasn't shut up since.
13. I know that I can live the rest of my life with him. What an honor.
I hope my thirteen wasn't too sappy for ya'll. I do have feelings, ya know. LOL
Salsa
Because People Like To Say "Salsa"
Black Bean and Corn Salsa
1 can unseasoned black beans, rinsed and drained
1 can whole kernel corn, drained
1 small onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
3 tomatoes, diced (make sure they are well ripened)
1 sweet red bell pepper, chopped
1 bunch cilantro, chopped (remove as many stems as possible)
1 Tbs olive oil
Juice of 2 limes
salt and pepper to taste
1 jalapeno, chopped (optional)
hot sauce to taste (optional)
Mix and serve with your favorite chips. Garnish with lime slices or avocado.
Monday, October 09, 2006
You Either Have Grace or You Don't*
It happened right in front of me.
The pain. The horror. The pure entertaining, post-worthy hysteria of it all.
It was an average shopping trip to Target. The sun was shining and the sky was a lovely blue. I am sure there were birds chirping somewhere, but since I was in a parking lot sans trees and any substantial vegetation, I didn't hear any meadowlark's song.
There were three of them- three ladies who looked to be in their early sixties. They were all dressed rather cute and looked like they had just concluded a fun day out with "the girls" shopping, laughing, and maybe catching a great lunch at one of those restaurants that offers nothing but chicken entrees on the menu (and fabulous desserts.)
One of the ladies was pushing the cart, chatting with her friend. One was on her cell phone doing some serious talking. The lady pushed her cart up onto the curb in order to unload it into the SUV. Then, in one graceful Rockettes style kick, one leg flew up into the air (she may have even pointed her Keds bearing toes), the other leg buckled underneath her, as the woman's skort caught a gust of wind like a sail on the mighty sea, and her fanny landed flat on the pavement.
One friend ran to her aid. I ran over to help, too as the fallen Rockette pulled herself up, brushed herself off, with her face blushed in embarrassment, and assured us,"I'm OK! I'm OK!"
What was even more amazing is that the friend on the cell phone didn't skip a beat in her conversation as she held the phone to her ear with her shoulder, and helped her friend with the other arm. Then she said,"What we want to know is- Martha, are you wearing any underwear? That's what we really want to know. Mama always told me to wear underwear and make sure they are clean and not torn."
This information is, of course, more important than if her friend had broken anything, hit her head, or scraped her knee. I mean, she wouldn't want to be humiliated by not wearing the proper undergarments while doing a kick line dance maneuver and landing her well dressed rear flatly on the pavement in Target parking lot.
Manners and modesty first. X-rays later.
*Seinfeld- Elaine meets Mr. Pitt.
The pain. The horror. The pure entertaining, post-worthy hysteria of it all.
It was an average shopping trip to Target. The sun was shining and the sky was a lovely blue. I am sure there were birds chirping somewhere, but since I was in a parking lot sans trees and any substantial vegetation, I didn't hear any meadowlark's song.
There were three of them- three ladies who looked to be in their early sixties. They were all dressed rather cute and looked like they had just concluded a fun day out with "the girls" shopping, laughing, and maybe catching a great lunch at one of those restaurants that offers nothing but chicken entrees on the menu (and fabulous desserts.)
One of the ladies was pushing the cart, chatting with her friend. One was on her cell phone doing some serious talking. The lady pushed her cart up onto the curb in order to unload it into the SUV. Then, in one graceful Rockettes style kick, one leg flew up into the air (she may have even pointed her Keds bearing toes), the other leg buckled underneath her, as the woman's skort caught a gust of wind like a sail on the mighty sea, and her fanny landed flat on the pavement.
One friend ran to her aid. I ran over to help, too as the fallen Rockette pulled herself up, brushed herself off, with her face blushed in embarrassment, and assured us,"I'm OK! I'm OK!"
What was even more amazing is that the friend on the cell phone didn't skip a beat in her conversation as she held the phone to her ear with her shoulder, and helped her friend with the other arm. Then she said,"What we want to know is- Martha, are you wearing any underwear? That's what we really want to know. Mama always told me to wear underwear and make sure they are clean and not torn."
This information is, of course, more important than if her friend had broken anything, hit her head, or scraped her knee. I mean, she wouldn't want to be humiliated by not wearing the proper undergarments while doing a kick line dance maneuver and landing her well dressed rear flatly on the pavement in Target parking lot.
Manners and modesty first. X-rays later.
*Seinfeld- Elaine meets Mr. Pitt.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Creativity Escapes Meme
I am so glad that Big Mama was doing a word meme today. I have serious writer's block. I also did not have enough coffee this morning to get me going, so maybe that has something to do with it.
Here goes:
1. Cowboy- My daughter. She loves anything remotely associated with horses and is convinced that all good things come from Texas. This is because her Daddy has had several works trips to Texas and has brought back some pretty cool toys. Cowboy also reminds me of the Dixie Chicks, baked beans, wagons, Wranglers, real hats, boots, and men that have to spit a lot.
2. Lemon- Lemonhead candy, lemonade, sour, yellow. And a clunker car.
3. Peace- Nancy's recent art, Christmas, what I wish for in the world. And the feeling I have in my heart because of the saving grace of Jesus.
4. Change- The thing I don't do well with. The seasons. What my Daddy always had in his pocket, along with his pocket knife and his keys.
Thanks, Big Mama, for the inspirational vocabulary! Happy Sunday, ya'll!
Sorry, guys. I forgot to add four new words:
Biscuit
Crayon
Warmth
Flip
Here goes:
1. Cowboy- My daughter. She loves anything remotely associated with horses and is convinced that all good things come from Texas. This is because her Daddy has had several works trips to Texas and has brought back some pretty cool toys. Cowboy also reminds me of the Dixie Chicks, baked beans, wagons, Wranglers, real hats, boots, and men that have to spit a lot.
2. Lemon- Lemonhead candy, lemonade, sour, yellow. And a clunker car.
3. Peace- Nancy's recent art, Christmas, what I wish for in the world. And the feeling I have in my heart because of the saving grace of Jesus.
4. Change- The thing I don't do well with. The seasons. What my Daddy always had in his pocket, along with his pocket knife and his keys.
Thanks, Big Mama, for the inspirational vocabulary! Happy Sunday, ya'll!
Sorry, guys. I forgot to add four new words:
Biscuit
Crayon
Warmth
Flip
Friday, October 06, 2006
Acts of Kindness Could Not Be More Random
Don't try to connect these. They can't be connected. There really is no telling the fireworks display between neurotransmitters in my brain.
1. In the car today, "Mommy, the name Sasha reminds me of mashed potatoes."
2. Yesterday I was wondering if the FedEx guy and the UPS guy ever drag race.
3. If blogs crossed:
Big Mama + Boo Mama= Big "Boo Boo" With A Cool Band-Aid
This Ain't New York + Living To Tell The Story= Niagara Falls
Laurel Wreath + Grafted Branch= Lovely Natural Floral Arrangement
Created for HIS Glory + The Ultimate Creator= When We All Get To Heaven :>)
1. In the car today, "Mommy, the name Sasha reminds me of mashed potatoes."
2. Yesterday I was wondering if the FedEx guy and the UPS guy ever drag race.
3. If blogs crossed:
Big Mama + Boo Mama= Big "Boo Boo" With A Cool Band-Aid
This Ain't New York + Living To Tell The Story= Niagara Falls
Laurel Wreath + Grafted Branch= Lovely Natural Floral Arrangement
Created for HIS Glory + The Ultimate Creator= When We All Get To Heaven :>)
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Thirteen Words and Phrases from Project Runway: Season 3
1. Serious Ugly
2. Boring
3. Really Fun Print
4. Pageant Dress
5. Couture du Jour
6. Make it work!
7. Angela and Jeffrey
8. Angela's mom
9. Auf
10. Rosettes
11. My design is the bomb.
12. One day you're in, and the next day you're out.
13. Please leave the runway.
Nancy and BooMama- You are right. No way I could quote Vincent on here. I care about you too much. ;>) Some things just aren't worth repeating.
2. Boring
3. Really Fun Print
4. Pageant Dress
5. Couture du Jour
6. Make it work!
7. Angela and Jeffrey
8. Angela's mom
9. Auf
10. Rosettes
11. My design is the bomb.
12. One day you're in, and the next day you're out.
13. Please leave the runway.
Nancy and BooMama- You are right. No way I could quote Vincent on here. I care about you too much. ;>) Some things just aren't worth repeating.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Let's Show Them We Care
School shootings and violence against children have reached every corner of our nation this week, even the quiet, simple region of Amish country.
I am so saddened at what has happened and seems to keep happening to our children. We all need to pray and ask God's guidance on what we can do to prevent more terrible acts of reprehensible violence.
The Today Show has provided viewers with an opportunity to make a donation toward the funeral expenses of the Amish children killed this week. They have posted the address below.
I am encouraging everyone to send Sympathy cards. Making the donation is a personal choice. I really feel that Christians of the "outside world" need to express our deepest sympathy to those in Amish country suffering right now. They are being bombarded by the media and other secular organizations. Christian outreach would be such a blessing to them at this time.
You can visit the Today website for more information. The address they have posted is:
HomeTowne Heritage Bank
100 Historic Drive
PO Box 337
Strasburg, Pennsylvania 17579
If I find another address, I will update you.
I am so saddened at what has happened and seems to keep happening to our children. We all need to pray and ask God's guidance on what we can do to prevent more terrible acts of reprehensible violence.
The Today Show has provided viewers with an opportunity to make a donation toward the funeral expenses of the Amish children killed this week. They have posted the address below.
I am encouraging everyone to send Sympathy cards. Making the donation is a personal choice. I really feel that Christians of the "outside world" need to express our deepest sympathy to those in Amish country suffering right now. They are being bombarded by the media and other secular organizations. Christian outreach would be such a blessing to them at this time.
You can visit the Today website for more information. The address they have posted is:
HomeTowne Heritage Bank
100 Historic Drive
PO Box 337
Strasburg, Pennsylvania 17579
If I find another address, I will update you.
Pillsbury Dough, Plastic Stemware, and Two Giggly Girls
Tonight, my daughter and I dined alone- just the two of us. Sometimes my husband's job doesn't always allow him to be home at dinner. We cherish the nights we are able to sit down together for a meal, but sometimes it is nice to have "just the girls."
For tonight's meal, my daughter and I made pizza. I did not make the dough myself; the little doughboy made it for me. My friend Nancy would probably be twirling her dough up in the air, pounding it, then twirling it again... until it fell in the dog food (but that's another post!)
Ours was a simple pie with the canned dough, bottled sauce and ziplock pre-shredded cheese. My, that does not sound good at all once I write it out! The point was to make it together, be messy, and just have fun. We had salads complete with croutons- a must for my daughter. The best part was our very refined sparkling raspberry/grape juice which we sipped from the most exquisite "glasses"- plastic stemware which is actually intended for the patio. But, hey, I am not letting my child drink from the wedding crystal. Not yet.
She thought it was very special, bubblies and all, and it was kind of nice. Just mom and daughter. Lots of giggles and cheese stringing from our mouths.
Very refined indeed. ;>)
For tonight's meal, my daughter and I made pizza. I did not make the dough myself; the little doughboy made it for me. My friend Nancy would probably be twirling her dough up in the air, pounding it, then twirling it again... until it fell in the dog food (but that's another post!)
Ours was a simple pie with the canned dough, bottled sauce and ziplock pre-shredded cheese. My, that does not sound good at all once I write it out! The point was to make it together, be messy, and just have fun. We had salads complete with croutons- a must for my daughter. The best part was our very refined sparkling raspberry/grape juice which we sipped from the most exquisite "glasses"- plastic stemware which is actually intended for the patio. But, hey, I am not letting my child drink from the wedding crystal. Not yet.
She thought it was very special, bubblies and all, and it was kind of nice. Just mom and daughter. Lots of giggles and cheese stringing from our mouths.
Very refined indeed. ;>)
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
A Mama Daddy Meme
This meme is going around but, unlike the flu, it is quite fun and you don't have to take awful tasting medicine.
I think Barb at Chelsea Morning got it going, but I decided to take Big Mama's challenge to join in.
1. Favorite Memory of your Mother?
It is hard to pin it down to one memory. As a child, I remember making sugar cookies at Christmas, always licking the beaters and the bowl. A good mama always leaves just enough for the "licking." We also made wedding cookies. Yum.
As an adult, I remember driving around Albany with Mama one Christmas Day passing out slices of pound cake to the homeless men who lived down at the train tracks. It was perfectly safe- the tracks are next to the police station and the police allow the homeless men to live there, as long as they don't cause any trouble. I have a lot of memories like that- driving all over town passing out gifts, cookies, or cards to people who may not have received anything otherwise. Mama and I have a special place in our hearts for people who aren't always easy to love, or who tend to be forgotten. I learned a lot about giving from Mama.
2. Favorite Memory of your Father?
My favorite memories with Daddy are all in his garden. I used to help him plant his garden- sometimes from seeds and sometimes from small seedlings. I can remember Daddy tilling the ground, then using a pencil to make a hole to drop the seed in. I would follow behind him and drop the seed.
I loved helping him dig for potatoes. I was the kind of kid who liked to get dirty, but then always ran inside to wash my hands.
3. Favorite Memory of your Siblings?
I am an only child, but I have many memories with my hyper, male cousins. They were both younger than me. When I visited Granny, they came over and we would play outside. Papa played with us a lot. We have a lot of memories shooting the BB gun. :>)
4. What one skill would you like to wake up tomorrow and be able to do (though you'd never learned it)?
I would love to be able to drop 10 pounds per day while gaining muscle mass and holding a donut and a mocha frap. Since that isn't really considered a skill, I will go with quilting.
5. Which one of your dreams has come true?
I am married to a WONDERFUL husband and have a beautiful daughter. What else can I dream of?
I think Barb at Chelsea Morning got it going, but I decided to take Big Mama's challenge to join in.
1. Favorite Memory of your Mother?
It is hard to pin it down to one memory. As a child, I remember making sugar cookies at Christmas, always licking the beaters and the bowl. A good mama always leaves just enough for the "licking." We also made wedding cookies. Yum.
As an adult, I remember driving around Albany with Mama one Christmas Day passing out slices of pound cake to the homeless men who lived down at the train tracks. It was perfectly safe- the tracks are next to the police station and the police allow the homeless men to live there, as long as they don't cause any trouble. I have a lot of memories like that- driving all over town passing out gifts, cookies, or cards to people who may not have received anything otherwise. Mama and I have a special place in our hearts for people who aren't always easy to love, or who tend to be forgotten. I learned a lot about giving from Mama.
2. Favorite Memory of your Father?
My favorite memories with Daddy are all in his garden. I used to help him plant his garden- sometimes from seeds and sometimes from small seedlings. I can remember Daddy tilling the ground, then using a pencil to make a hole to drop the seed in. I would follow behind him and drop the seed.
I loved helping him dig for potatoes. I was the kind of kid who liked to get dirty, but then always ran inside to wash my hands.
3. Favorite Memory of your Siblings?
I am an only child, but I have many memories with my hyper, male cousins. They were both younger than me. When I visited Granny, they came over and we would play outside. Papa played with us a lot. We have a lot of memories shooting the BB gun. :>)
4. What one skill would you like to wake up tomorrow and be able to do (though you'd never learned it)?
I would love to be able to drop 10 pounds per day while gaining muscle mass and holding a donut and a mocha frap. Since that isn't really considered a skill, I will go with quilting.
5. Which one of your dreams has come true?
I am married to a WONDERFUL husband and have a beautiful daughter. What else can I dream of?
My Testimony
I am a little late posting this. Lauren offered to host a Tour Of Testimonies on Oct. 1. (Thanks, Lauren!) I've been a little busy around here, and I just didn't want to rush through this post. After all, this post is about how Jesus saved my life.
My mama always took me to church. Daddy went too, but it was Mama who always put the fire under us to get out the door. She was the one who shared Jesus with me. She is the one I remember praying with me. Daddy's outward expression of his faith was more reserved and quiet. Daddy is, by nature, more of a quiet man. I know in my heart that my salvation was important to him. He just didn't openly express his concern.
We attended a Southern Baptist church in Albany. Mama was always doing something, teaching Sunday School or Vacation Bible School, or making dishes for the benevolence committee. She also was a stay-at-home mom, so I went with her everywhere. Often we were at the church fixing up her Sunday School room or doing some other sort of project. Most Saturdays, Daddy worked. For as long as I can remember, he worked six days a week, sometimes overtime. He later changed jobs and his hours changed as well.
I was taught a deep respect and reverence for God, His Word and His Will. My parents never had a legalistic view of God. They told me about God's Law, but they always included God's Love. I knew from a very early age that God loved me abundantly. That is a rare experience for children these days, I believe.
Talking about God and church was just natural for our family. It was part of every day living. I can't remember us every having a sit down type of devotion, but I remember God and the Bible just being a normal part of our lives. The Bible was part of our conversations.
Being exposed to the Gospel for years, I finally felt the tug of the Holy Spirit one night before going to bed. I was 9 years old. Mama and I had talked about Jesus and she must have answered a million questions. I remember going to bed and praying right there under my pink gingham canopy. I asked forgiveness of my sins and asked Jesus to come into my heart. It was the most overwhelming feeling. I can still remember it. After praying, I climbed out of bed and went back in the living room to tell Mama. She must have been so excited.
That next week I went to church camp. Many of my friends accepted Christ that week. When we returned, there was an entire group of kids who were baptized, including me. I remember that too. Mama made sure I had on a dress underneath that white robe- something that would not become "see through" after I got all wet. :>)
Years later, high school came along. I have no idea when it happened, if it was overnight or a slow process. For whatever reason, I became the typical backsliden baptist teenager. So did most of my friends. We rebelled while still attending church on a regular basis. What I do know for sure is that school had a huge influence on me.
I went to college and nothing really changed. A new independence seems to fuel the fire of rebellion. All along I knew I was wrong, but I kept pushing that conviction down, way down until I almost didn't feel it anymore.
I married my husband and we didn't go to church. This broke Mama's heart. She told me so. But, I just didn't listen and continued to stay away from church.
It wasn't until I found out I was expecting that I finally decided to return to church. My husband was supportive and we visited churches until we found the "right" one for us. He was raised Methodist, and I don't really know why he didn't want to go to church before, but, now he did and I was thrilled. Many spouses don't understand why their significant other suddenly decides to attend church after so many years.
God was so patient with me. I have no idea why, except that He loves me. I am so thankful that I didn't waste more time away from church and away from His Word. I do regret the years I was away, but I think somehow I have a special understanding of those who have been where I have been. Maybe even a little less critical.
If you are reading this and you have never accepted Jesus, do it now. He died for you on the cross. He was raised again and now lives in Heaven. You don't have to do anything to receive eternal life and you don't have to do anything to keep it. It is a gift from God. All you have to do is reach out to Him, admit you are a sinner, believe He can save you, and tell Him you want Him to come into your life. It really is that simple.
God loves you.
To read more testimonies of how God changes lives, visit Lauren
My mama always took me to church. Daddy went too, but it was Mama who always put the fire under us to get out the door. She was the one who shared Jesus with me. She is the one I remember praying with me. Daddy's outward expression of his faith was more reserved and quiet. Daddy is, by nature, more of a quiet man. I know in my heart that my salvation was important to him. He just didn't openly express his concern.
We attended a Southern Baptist church in Albany. Mama was always doing something, teaching Sunday School or Vacation Bible School, or making dishes for the benevolence committee. She also was a stay-at-home mom, so I went with her everywhere. Often we were at the church fixing up her Sunday School room or doing some other sort of project. Most Saturdays, Daddy worked. For as long as I can remember, he worked six days a week, sometimes overtime. He later changed jobs and his hours changed as well.
I was taught a deep respect and reverence for God, His Word and His Will. My parents never had a legalistic view of God. They told me about God's Law, but they always included God's Love. I knew from a very early age that God loved me abundantly. That is a rare experience for children these days, I believe.
Talking about God and church was just natural for our family. It was part of every day living. I can't remember us every having a sit down type of devotion, but I remember God and the Bible just being a normal part of our lives. The Bible was part of our conversations.
Being exposed to the Gospel for years, I finally felt the tug of the Holy Spirit one night before going to bed. I was 9 years old. Mama and I had talked about Jesus and she must have answered a million questions. I remember going to bed and praying right there under my pink gingham canopy. I asked forgiveness of my sins and asked Jesus to come into my heart. It was the most overwhelming feeling. I can still remember it. After praying, I climbed out of bed and went back in the living room to tell Mama. She must have been so excited.
That next week I went to church camp. Many of my friends accepted Christ that week. When we returned, there was an entire group of kids who were baptized, including me. I remember that too. Mama made sure I had on a dress underneath that white robe- something that would not become "see through" after I got all wet. :>)
Years later, high school came along. I have no idea when it happened, if it was overnight or a slow process. For whatever reason, I became the typical backsliden baptist teenager. So did most of my friends. We rebelled while still attending church on a regular basis. What I do know for sure is that school had a huge influence on me.
I went to college and nothing really changed. A new independence seems to fuel the fire of rebellion. All along I knew I was wrong, but I kept pushing that conviction down, way down until I almost didn't feel it anymore.
I married my husband and we didn't go to church. This broke Mama's heart. She told me so. But, I just didn't listen and continued to stay away from church.
It wasn't until I found out I was expecting that I finally decided to return to church. My husband was supportive and we visited churches until we found the "right" one for us. He was raised Methodist, and I don't really know why he didn't want to go to church before, but, now he did and I was thrilled. Many spouses don't understand why their significant other suddenly decides to attend church after so many years.
God was so patient with me. I have no idea why, except that He loves me. I am so thankful that I didn't waste more time away from church and away from His Word. I do regret the years I was away, but I think somehow I have a special understanding of those who have been where I have been. Maybe even a little less critical.
If you are reading this and you have never accepted Jesus, do it now. He died for you on the cross. He was raised again and now lives in Heaven. You don't have to do anything to receive eternal life and you don't have to do anything to keep it. It is a gift from God. All you have to do is reach out to Him, admit you are a sinner, believe He can save you, and tell Him you want Him to come into your life. It really is that simple.
God loves you.
To read more testimonies of how God changes lives, visit Lauren
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Friday, September 29, 2006
A Pedicure and a Hardee's Biscuit
Can I just say that I will have that pedicure now?
We are getting ready to sell a home while simultaneously living in a rental. Not fun. Especially if there have been renters in said home. I have been painting, cleaning, painting, cleaning, you get the picture. My husband has also been doing minor repairs.
To any honest property managers who may be reading this- God Bless You. Hold your head up high and keep up the good work. Because, in your line of work, I have found that you are a rare jewel.
Do you sense any hostility or sarcasm? You do? You are quite intuitive.
All that being said, I have learned a lot from this experience. Besides the fact that I hope to never ever, not in this millennium or in any other, be a landlord ever again, I have learned that God is in control. Not me. I've also learned to appreciate what I have been given, to value what God has provided for our family, and to always keep track of paint colors. :>)
This morning I dropped my daughter off at school and headed to Lowe's. I was looking my best, in my husband's t-shirt, old shorts, comfy shoes, no make-up and did I already say no make-up? I did? Well, it wasn't pretty.
I can clean up all purty like with the best of them, but, when I ain't made up, I ain't made up. Let's just say it could frighten children and small mammals. I figure if I am going to Lowe's and then headed off to paint, sweat (not perspire), and paint some more, who cares? Right?
I don't know about ya'll, but I have made many a morning trip to Wal-mart dressed in a t-shirt, shorts or sweats, and nary a smidgen of make-up. Most mornings I run into other moms with the same attire. We just nod our heads at one another as we pass each other's carts, sipping our latte's from Starbucks. If you go early enough and wear tennis shoes, you can at least give off the illusion that you are headed to the gym later. After about 9:00 AM, you just look like a slob. This is a secret most women don't know. Consider yourself INFORMED.
As bad as the moms look at Wal-mart in the morning, the men at Lowe's look much worse. Remember- I had not styled my hair, but I had at least combed it. Not so for the male shoppers at Lowe's. But, I did feel quite comfortable knowing that I had not under dressed for my shopping experience.
While waiting for my paint to be mixed and shaken, not stirred, I started up a conversation with a man also waiting for paint. He was dressed as um, "nicely" as I was, and he was sipping his coffee (as was I). But the men at Lowe's have a secret we women at Wal-mart don't know about- They have the good sense to buy their coffee at Hardee's and use the rest of their money for a biscuit.
Now, why didn't I think of that?
Seriously, whether you are getting a "skinny, triple, venti mocha" or a "light, double, organic cappucino", there really is no telling how many gazillion calories are in that recycled cup. And, hello ladies, $4.00 for liquid? And we complain about gas prices?
I have decided that it makes much more sense to buy a strong cup of Joe and a biscuit at Hardee's. Or I could just go to Krispy Kreme for coffee and my all time favorite chocolate custard filled doughnut, instead of drinking a liquid doughnut from a place that has the word "bucks" in the name.
So, to the disheveled, unkempt, male shopper in the NASCAR t-shirt at Lowe's- thanks for the tip.
Now to that pedicure...
We are getting ready to sell a home while simultaneously living in a rental. Not fun. Especially if there have been renters in said home. I have been painting, cleaning, painting, cleaning, you get the picture. My husband has also been doing minor repairs.
To any honest property managers who may be reading this- God Bless You. Hold your head up high and keep up the good work. Because, in your line of work, I have found that you are a rare jewel.
Do you sense any hostility or sarcasm? You do? You are quite intuitive.
All that being said, I have learned a lot from this experience. Besides the fact that I hope to never ever, not in this millennium or in any other, be a landlord ever again, I have learned that God is in control. Not me. I've also learned to appreciate what I have been given, to value what God has provided for our family, and to always keep track of paint colors. :>)
This morning I dropped my daughter off at school and headed to Lowe's. I was looking my best, in my husband's t-shirt, old shorts, comfy shoes, no make-up and did I already say no make-up? I did? Well, it wasn't pretty.
I can clean up all purty like with the best of them, but, when I ain't made up, I ain't made up. Let's just say it could frighten children and small mammals. I figure if I am going to Lowe's and then headed off to paint, sweat (not perspire), and paint some more, who cares? Right?
I don't know about ya'll, but I have made many a morning trip to Wal-mart dressed in a t-shirt, shorts or sweats, and nary a smidgen of make-up. Most mornings I run into other moms with the same attire. We just nod our heads at one another as we pass each other's carts, sipping our latte's from Starbucks. If you go early enough and wear tennis shoes, you can at least give off the illusion that you are headed to the gym later. After about 9:00 AM, you just look like a slob. This is a secret most women don't know. Consider yourself INFORMED.
As bad as the moms look at Wal-mart in the morning, the men at Lowe's look much worse. Remember- I had not styled my hair, but I had at least combed it. Not so for the male shoppers at Lowe's. But, I did feel quite comfortable knowing that I had not under dressed for my shopping experience.
While waiting for my paint to be mixed and shaken, not stirred, I started up a conversation with a man also waiting for paint. He was dressed as um, "nicely" as I was, and he was sipping his coffee (as was I). But the men at Lowe's have a secret we women at Wal-mart don't know about- They have the good sense to buy their coffee at Hardee's and use the rest of their money for a biscuit.
Now, why didn't I think of that?
Seriously, whether you are getting a "skinny, triple, venti mocha" or a "light, double, organic cappucino", there really is no telling how many gazillion calories are in that recycled cup. And, hello ladies, $4.00 for liquid? And we complain about gas prices?
I have decided that it makes much more sense to buy a strong cup of Joe and a biscuit at Hardee's. Or I could just go to Krispy Kreme for coffee and my all time favorite chocolate custard filled doughnut, instead of drinking a liquid doughnut from a place that has the word "bucks" in the name.
So, to the disheveled, unkempt, male shopper in the NASCAR t-shirt at Lowe's- thanks for the tip.
Now to that pedicure...
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Thirteen...
Thirteen Things You Should Know Before Running For Office
1. According to TV ads, politicians play a lot of checkers with old people.
2. They also walk around the neighborhood with one fireman, one police officer (usually the sheriff), and one woman with a baby on her hip.
3. Politicians sit with small school children in the classroom and read Dr. Seuss.
1. According to TV ads, politicians play a lot of checkers with old people.
2. They also walk around the neighborhood with one fireman, one police officer (usually the sheriff), and one woman with a baby on her hip.
3. Politicians sit with small school children in the classroom and read Dr. Seuss.
The kids LOVE IT!
4. The same generation of voters who hides money under the mattress because they do not trust the bank, also believe the politicians will make sure they get a social security check on time, for the right amount. Every. Single. Month. until they die.
5. Babies love politicians. They never cry or spit up when held by the
4. The same generation of voters who hides money under the mattress because they do not trust the bank, also believe the politicians will make sure they get a social security check on time, for the right amount. Every. Single. Month. until they die.
5. Babies love politicians. They never cry or spit up when held by the
President, governor,or congressman.
6. Whenever you run for office, you have to sit on a white porch with someone and drink tea. Be sure to wear a tie, but roll up your sleeves.
7. While campaigning with "the little people", wear a chambray shirt and khaki pants. If you don't have time to change, just take off your sportcoat and throw it over your shoulder.
6. Whenever you run for office, you have to sit on a white porch with someone and drink tea. Be sure to wear a tie, but roll up your sleeves.
7. While campaigning with "the little people", wear a chambray shirt and khaki pants. If you don't have time to change, just take off your sportcoat and throw it over your shoulder.
(Hold it with the tip of one finger.)
8. Every single politician always tells the truth. But the other guy is a liar.
9. Women who run for office stand with their arms crossed a lot.
10. They are never seen playing checkers, but they do sit and read
8. Every single politician always tells the truth. But the other guy is a liar.
9. Women who run for office stand with their arms crossed a lot.
10. They are never seen playing checkers, but they do sit and read
Dr. Seuss to small school children.
11. Women who run for office usually wear a navy suit and have helmet hair.
12. If you are the politician who tells the truth,
11. Women who run for office usually wear a navy suit and have helmet hair.
12. If you are the politician who tells the truth,
make sure you say the other guy is running a "smear campaign." That'll show 'em!
13. As a last resort, have people hold campaign signs at busy intersections and wave. Drivers will honk their horns, but I don't know if they honk in support or in opposition...
13. As a last resort, have people hold campaign signs at busy intersections and wave. Drivers will honk their horns, but I don't know if they honk in support or in opposition...
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Facing The GiantsFacing The Giants opens this weekend in selected theatres. The film is about a football coach who strives to honor God while facing the obstacles in his life. It was produced by a church in my hometown- Sherwood Baptist Church in Albany, GA. The crew worked as volunteers and the costs were funded by donations.
Enjoy a family outing at the movies without worrying about language and other negative influences! I really pray a movie like this can make an impact on the industry.
Visit the link for trailers and information: Facing The Giants
See Shannon for more tips!
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Proof that they read my blog...
My mother-in-law sent this postcard to our daughter. She sort of "warned" me about it before it arrived. I laughed out loud at the mailbox...
I would like to ask for prayer for them as they travel abroad. Since none of you know who they are, where they live, and how long they will be gone you can't share this info with BooMama's band of thieves in the dark green turtlenecks.
So, I guess your prayer would go something like this...
"Dear Lord, we don't know Melanie and we don't know her in-laws. We aren't even really sure her name is Melanie or that she ain't in New York. But, whoever these people are, you know them and you have even counted the hair on their heads, so please protect them in their travels."
"The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore." Psalms 121:8
Monday, September 25, 2006
Mama: The Sequel
Mama is the one who encouraged you to play outside, not to sit too close to the TV or it would ruin your eyesight, and fed you hot dogs and Little Debbie's, while simultaneously handing you a Flintstone vitamin.
And, you thought I had gone sappy on you...
Mama is the first one to praise how wonderful the Thanksgiving dinner tasted then tell you that you cooked way too much food. What a waste of food. How are we going to eat all of this food?
Mama tells you how much she loves your new haircut. She didn't want to say anything before, but she didn't think your old style was very flattering.
Mama is the only person who will tell you that you have bad breath. Then, she will reach in her purse and offer you a Tic Tac, Lifesaver, or a piece of Big Red.
Your mama was the one who told you that you take after her, inheriting the tendency to gain weight in the hips and thighs. Bless your heart.
Mama said that all the women in the family turn grey early. You aren't alone.
Your mama will always let you use her nice crystal punch bowl whenever you host a baby shower. She is the first to tell you the very best punch recipe to use, depending on whether it is a boy or a girl..."Why don't you use that pretty pink punch with the cranberry juice, the one in last year's Junior League cookbook? You know the one. Shirley Johnson submitted it, but it isn't under "Shirley," it's listed as "Mrs. Bobby Johnson,"or you could always go with the lime sherbet punch. You know green is unisex for baby showers, but, if you make the pink one, make sure you put enough sugar in it. It calls for cranberry juice and the last time you made it, I just couldn't drink it. It was too tart."
Mama always says how beautiful you are, especially if you could lose those extra 8 pounds that you gained at Thanksgiving.
Mama will stand by you no matter what. She sticks with you through thick or thin. She is the only one who would bail you out of jail, using the secret stash of money she has hidden somewhere in the house.
Mama will sit there in the courtroom every day of the trial. She will sit where you can turn around and see her sobbing. She'll dab at her tears of disappointment with a Kleenex, but she'll never blow her nose. (Mercy, no! That would be embarrassing!)
When the trial is all over, and the judge reads the guilty verdict, Mama will still be there for you when everyone else has abandoned you. As the bailiff escorts you off to Attica, Mama will stand and wave her Kleenex, "I love you, baby. Mama knows you didn't do it! I'll come see you every day! Call me when you get there."
And, you thought I had gone sappy on you...
Mama is the first one to praise how wonderful the Thanksgiving dinner tasted then tell you that you cooked way too much food. What a waste of food. How are we going to eat all of this food?
Mama tells you how much she loves your new haircut. She didn't want to say anything before, but she didn't think your old style was very flattering.
Mama is the only person who will tell you that you have bad breath. Then, she will reach in her purse and offer you a Tic Tac, Lifesaver, or a piece of Big Red.
Your mama was the one who told you that you take after her, inheriting the tendency to gain weight in the hips and thighs. Bless your heart.
Mama said that all the women in the family turn grey early. You aren't alone.
Your mama will always let you use her nice crystal punch bowl whenever you host a baby shower. She is the first to tell you the very best punch recipe to use, depending on whether it is a boy or a girl..."Why don't you use that pretty pink punch with the cranberry juice, the one in last year's Junior League cookbook? You know the one. Shirley Johnson submitted it, but it isn't under "Shirley," it's listed as "Mrs. Bobby Johnson,"or you could always go with the lime sherbet punch. You know green is unisex for baby showers, but, if you make the pink one, make sure you put enough sugar in it. It calls for cranberry juice and the last time you made it, I just couldn't drink it. It was too tart."
Mama always says how beautiful you are, especially if you could lose those extra 8 pounds that you gained at Thanksgiving.
Mama will stand by you no matter what. She sticks with you through thick or thin. She is the only one who would bail you out of jail, using the secret stash of money she has hidden somewhere in the house.
Mama will sit there in the courtroom every day of the trial. She will sit where you can turn around and see her sobbing. She'll dab at her tears of disappointment with a Kleenex, but she'll never blow her nose. (Mercy, no! That would be embarrassing!)
When the trial is all over, and the judge reads the guilty verdict, Mama will still be there for you when everyone else has abandoned you. As the bailiff escorts you off to Attica, Mama will stand and wave her Kleenex, "I love you, baby. Mama knows you didn't do it! I'll come see you every day! Call me when you get there."
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Mama
Your mama is the lady you looked up to when you were knee high to a junebug. She is the one who shared her Mary Kay lipstick and her Coty face powder, even when she knew you would make a mess.
Mama is the one who got up at night, sleepily rubbing her eyes and trying to sit up, rocking you back to sleep after you had a bad dream. She kissed away all the pain from a skinned knee and layered on anti-septic and a band-aid. Then, she hugged you, kissed your salty tears, and gave you a popsicle. Your favorite flavor.
Mama is the one who understood when you wanted the red prom dress that cost a little more. She is the one who saw the twinkle in your eyes when you saw it. She is the one who helped explain the price tag to Daddy, and then she figured out a way to juggle the budget so the family could afford it.
Somewhere between falling off of your bike and learning to drive, Mama started to drive you a little crazy. Call it an itch for independence. Call it spoiled. Call it normal. But, one day you decided that you didn't need Mama anymore. You were on your own.
Then, you got a job, got married, and got over it.
Later on, you found yourself about to become a Mama. And there was Mama. She sat next to you at your baby shower. She gave you a beautiful heirloom dress for your little girl, or precious blue booties for your baby boy.
She looked at you, smiled and said,"You just don't know what is in store for you. Being a Mama is something special."
That day came. Your baby was born and you knew in your heart as you looked at those tiny toes that Mama was right. The love for your child filled you until you felt it lump up in your throat. A love you could never imagine before.
And now your little one calls you Mama. She gives you pretty crayon pictures and half dead weeds. Beautiful. He comes in from playing with dirt from head to toe, smelling like the puppy he brought home.
You pace the floor when he has an ear infection. You doctor the scrapes on her knees. You try to explain whysome children are mean and sometimes grown-ups are, too. You tell her about Jesus and Heaven, and how to tie her shoes.
You tip toe in her room while she sleeps, watch her breath, and see the baby expression she once had. Then, you kiss her forehead, tuck her in, and move her favorite friend close. She rolls over and gives her bunny a snuggle.
You smile, tip toe out, and quietly close her door. Sweet. Wonderful. "Mama."
Mama is the one who got up at night, sleepily rubbing her eyes and trying to sit up, rocking you back to sleep after you had a bad dream. She kissed away all the pain from a skinned knee and layered on anti-septic and a band-aid. Then, she hugged you, kissed your salty tears, and gave you a popsicle. Your favorite flavor.
Mama is the one who understood when you wanted the red prom dress that cost a little more. She is the one who saw the twinkle in your eyes when you saw it. She is the one who helped explain the price tag to Daddy, and then she figured out a way to juggle the budget so the family could afford it.
Somewhere between falling off of your bike and learning to drive, Mama started to drive you a little crazy. Call it an itch for independence. Call it spoiled. Call it normal. But, one day you decided that you didn't need Mama anymore. You were on your own.
Then, you got a job, got married, and got over it.
Later on, you found yourself about to become a Mama. And there was Mama. She sat next to you at your baby shower. She gave you a beautiful heirloom dress for your little girl, or precious blue booties for your baby boy.
She looked at you, smiled and said,"You just don't know what is in store for you. Being a Mama is something special."
That day came. Your baby was born and you knew in your heart as you looked at those tiny toes that Mama was right. The love for your child filled you until you felt it lump up in your throat. A love you could never imagine before.
And now your little one calls you Mama. She gives you pretty crayon pictures and half dead weeds. Beautiful. He comes in from playing with dirt from head to toe, smelling like the puppy he brought home.
You pace the floor when he has an ear infection. You doctor the scrapes on her knees. You try to explain whysome children are mean and sometimes grown-ups are, too. You tell her about Jesus and Heaven, and how to tie her shoes.
You tip toe in her room while she sleeps, watch her breath, and see the baby expression she once had. Then, you kiss her forehead, tuck her in, and move her favorite friend close. She rolls over and gives her bunny a snuggle.
You smile, tip toe out, and quietly close her door. Sweet. Wonderful. "Mama."
Friday, September 22, 2006
100 posts, but who's counting?
Well, this is it. We've all been on pins and needles. I know you have just lay awake at night anticipating when Melanie would post the big one- 100. Boy, I know I have.
I jest.
In the spirit of Ye Ole Bloggy Traditions, I shall post 100 Facts and Attempts at Funnies About Me. I will try to make this as quick and painless as possible.
Hold still. This may sting a bit...
1. Chapter One: I'm Born
To begin my life with the beginning of my life, I recall that I was born.* (What movie? What book?)
I was born and raised in Albany, Georgia.
2. Chapter Two: I rolled over.
3. Just kidding. Couldn't resist.
4. I grew up in Albany as an only child
5. with loving parents, wonderful grandparents, cousins
6. a dog, a cat, and a rabbit, but not all at once.
7. I loved to make mudpies,
8. play Charlie's Angels
9. and watch Fat Albert every Saturday morning.
10. My favorite kid food was Spaghetti-O's and Roller Coasters.
11. I remember Vacation Bible School and Backyard Bible School.
12. Our VBS didn't have any cool decorations or wacky themes.
13. We ate cheap cookies and drank Kool Aid for snack.
14. On Friday, we had hot dogs.
15. Middle School (known as Junior High) was pretty uneventful, except for the Jordache jeans and add-a-beads, and Mr. Rick Springfield. Notice the "Mr."
16. High School was full of 80's drama, teen angst, Molly Ringwald, "Farmer Ted," and the Brat Pack.
17. I think I was in love with Kevin Bacon and Ralph Macchio.
18. I had a lot of perms, blue eye shadow, braces, and Bill Cosby sweaters.
19. Dare I say "acid wash?"
20. I always knew I would leave Albany.
21. I went off to college and met my wonderful husband.
22. He is a gift from God.
23. My first "real" job out of college was as a social worker,
24. managing about 500 AFDC and Food Stamps cases.
25. Pretty good for someone who hates lists and organization.
26. That job taught me a lot-
27. To plan well,
28. prioritize,
29. always be empathetic
30. but not naive
31. and always aware that one day I could be sitting on the other side of the desk,
32. needing help for whatever reason- the loss of a job, sickness, or personal problems.
33. That job taught me about compassion.
34. I married my sweet husband after living on my own for a while.
35. I think every woman should be independent before she gets married.
36. Some of my other opinions and not- so- valuable advice are:
37. Treat others as Jesus would treat them.
38. Never go anywhere you wouldn't take Jesus.
39. Because He is with every believer all of the time.
40. Expect a gentleman to open the door,
41. But thank him when he does.
42. Learn how to change a tire.
43. Keep some things to yourself.
44. Make friends and keep them.
45. The world can never sell you what God can give you.
46. Keep your chin up, and your knees bent. Pray, pray, pray.
47. I am Southern by birth and saved by the Grace of God.
48. Now, on to some of my favorite things... like Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream
49. Drug store make-up
50. The smell of Noxzema
51. Raw cookie dough
52. Old linens and fine china
53. Having my hair washed at the salon
54. Looking for worms in mud puddles after it rains with my daughter
55. Playing and getting dirty
56. Then getting all clean again with good smelling soap.
57. Giving a gift to someone when they didn't expect it
59. Watching Seinfeld reruns with my husband and Spongebob with my daughter
60. Listening to Aretha Franklin on a road trip
61. Catching up with an old friend.
62. Some things I hate are- going to the post office,
63. Libraries (but I love book stores!)
64. Loud women
65. Rye bread
66. Broken promises that could be avoided
67. The usual stuff like evil, cruelty, bad manners and vinegar in potato salad. :>)
68. Did I mention my love for mayonnaise?
69. Some things I do pretty well are- removing strange stains
70. Encouraging others
71. Starting mission projects
72. Whimsical, toll painting
73. Doctoring boo boo's
74. Washing socks
75. Changing the cat box
76. making chicken salad
77. (all things that SOMEONE has to be good at- why not me?)
78. Things I am not so good at- anything athletic
79. Like snow skiing (note to self- must post that story!)
80. Remembering notes to self
81. Staying on task and organized
82. .... now what was I writing about???
83. Oh Yeah! Stuff I am not good at! Like following rules of grammar
84. and not having run-on broken sentences with no punctuation at the end
85. Misc. stuff- I have always wanted a Wooden Cigar Indian
86. I hope to go to Greece.
87. I performed on the drill team of my college band at half time for the Atlanta Falcons.
88. I consider myself anaerobic.
89. I am an auditory learner and rarely took notes in school.
90. Coming up with 100 oddities about myself has proven difficult,
91. and since you are still reading this,( goodness knows why), I will just
92. drag it out until one of us falls asleep
93. or runs from the monitor screaming...
94. By the way, you are either really tough or really bored.
95. I had planned on posting a photo of myself for this post,
96. but Tom said we had just finished that photo spread in Vanity Fair.
97. Oh, did I mention I loved Top Gun?
98. And Dawson's Creek?
99. I just hope that the tradition for 200 posts doesn't include 200 things about me.
100. I am so done. ;>)
I jest.
In the spirit of Ye Ole Bloggy Traditions, I shall post 100 Facts and Attempts at Funnies About Me. I will try to make this as quick and painless as possible.
Hold still. This may sting a bit...
1. Chapter One: I'm Born
To begin my life with the beginning of my life, I recall that I was born.* (What movie? What book?)
I was born and raised in Albany, Georgia.
2. Chapter Two: I rolled over.
3. Just kidding. Couldn't resist.
4. I grew up in Albany as an only child
5. with loving parents, wonderful grandparents, cousins
6. a dog, a cat, and a rabbit, but not all at once.
7. I loved to make mudpies,
8. play Charlie's Angels
9. and watch Fat Albert every Saturday morning.
10. My favorite kid food was Spaghetti-O's and Roller Coasters.
11. I remember Vacation Bible School and Backyard Bible School.
12. Our VBS didn't have any cool decorations or wacky themes.
13. We ate cheap cookies and drank Kool Aid for snack.
14. On Friday, we had hot dogs.
15. Middle School (known as Junior High) was pretty uneventful, except for the Jordache jeans and add-a-beads, and Mr. Rick Springfield. Notice the "Mr."
16. High School was full of 80's drama, teen angst, Molly Ringwald, "Farmer Ted," and the Brat Pack.
17. I think I was in love with Kevin Bacon and Ralph Macchio.
18. I had a lot of perms, blue eye shadow, braces, and Bill Cosby sweaters.
19. Dare I say "acid wash?"
20. I always knew I would leave Albany.
21. I went off to college and met my wonderful husband.
22. He is a gift from God.
23. My first "real" job out of college was as a social worker,
24. managing about 500 AFDC and Food Stamps cases.
25. Pretty good for someone who hates lists and organization.
26. That job taught me a lot-
27. To plan well,
28. prioritize,
29. always be empathetic
30. but not naive
31. and always aware that one day I could be sitting on the other side of the desk,
32. needing help for whatever reason- the loss of a job, sickness, or personal problems.
33. That job taught me about compassion.
34. I married my sweet husband after living on my own for a while.
35. I think every woman should be independent before she gets married.
36. Some of my other opinions and not- so- valuable advice are:
37. Treat others as Jesus would treat them.
38. Never go anywhere you wouldn't take Jesus.
39. Because He is with every believer all of the time.
40. Expect a gentleman to open the door,
41. But thank him when he does.
42. Learn how to change a tire.
43. Keep some things to yourself.
44. Make friends and keep them.
45. The world can never sell you what God can give you.
46. Keep your chin up, and your knees bent. Pray, pray, pray.
47. I am Southern by birth and saved by the Grace of God.
48. Now, on to some of my favorite things... like Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream
49. Drug store make-up
50. The smell of Noxzema
51. Raw cookie dough
52. Old linens and fine china
53. Having my hair washed at the salon
54. Looking for worms in mud puddles after it rains with my daughter
55. Playing and getting dirty
56. Then getting all clean again with good smelling soap.
57. Giving a gift to someone when they didn't expect it
59. Watching Seinfeld reruns with my husband and Spongebob with my daughter
60. Listening to Aretha Franklin on a road trip
61. Catching up with an old friend.
62. Some things I hate are- going to the post office,
63. Libraries (but I love book stores!)
64. Loud women
65. Rye bread
66. Broken promises that could be avoided
67. The usual stuff like evil, cruelty, bad manners and vinegar in potato salad. :>)
68. Did I mention my love for mayonnaise?
69. Some things I do pretty well are- removing strange stains
70. Encouraging others
71. Starting mission projects
72. Whimsical, toll painting
73. Doctoring boo boo's
74. Washing socks
75. Changing the cat box
76. making chicken salad
77. (all things that SOMEONE has to be good at- why not me?)
78. Things I am not so good at- anything athletic
79. Like snow skiing (note to self- must post that story!)
80. Remembering notes to self
81. Staying on task and organized
82. .... now what was I writing about???
83. Oh Yeah! Stuff I am not good at! Like following rules of grammar
84. and not having run-on broken sentences with no punctuation at the end
85. Misc. stuff- I have always wanted a Wooden Cigar Indian
86. I hope to go to Greece.
87. I performed on the drill team of my college band at half time for the Atlanta Falcons.
88. I consider myself anaerobic.
89. I am an auditory learner and rarely took notes in school.
90. Coming up with 100 oddities about myself has proven difficult,
91. and since you are still reading this,( goodness knows why), I will just
92. drag it out until one of us falls asleep
93. or runs from the monitor screaming...
94. By the way, you are either really tough or really bored.
95. I had planned on posting a photo of myself for this post,
96. but Tom said we had just finished that photo spread in Vanity Fair.
97. Oh, did I mention I loved Top Gun?
98. And Dawson's Creek?
99. I just hope that the tradition for 200 posts doesn't include 200 things about me.
100. I am so done. ;>)
Who Can Find A Virtuous Woman?
I'm feeling a little down. Sometimes it is just not a Proverbs 31 Woman kind of day. But, with God's Grace, tomorrow is another day...
It is less than an hour from our normal dinner time, and it would make sense to start cooking and stop blogging. But, I am having a not-so-creative moment. It is way past time to "riseth while it is yet night, and giveth meat to my household, and a portion to my maidens" so I'd better type fast and whip up dinner. (I still can't find those maidens, for the life of me!)
Never mind that I need to go to the grocery store because I have not "brought food from afar."
I haven't considered a field, much less bought one.
My candle was burning at both ends, so it went out pretty quick.
Clothing of tapestry, silk and purple? How about a cotton Hanes tee and some capri pants?
I would normally stretch out my hand to the poor, but since I haven't put my hands to the spindle, planted a vineyard, or brought food from a-near or afar, I don't have much to offer.
The one thing I can say is that my husband and child still arise up and call me blessed, I mean, Mom/Wife, ummm....that lady that stays on the laptop too long while we wait, hungry for dinner.
Now, where are those maidens!!!
P.S. After posting this, I went to the cupboard and just gave up. Unless Rachel Ray and McGyver showed up at my house, we just weren't going to eat.
So, I considereth Ruby Tuesday because my child praises their mac-n-cheese. En route, I reconsidereth-ed, (something like that) and we went to Chili's, being that Chili's actually lists the mac-n-cheese as "Kraft." I did openeth my mouth with wisdom and we went to the place afar that has Kraft mac-n-cheese, "OOOHH, MOMMY! You mean the powder kind?!"
Turns out, Chili's is sponsoring a rather awesome fundraiser for St. Jude's Hospital, so we did actually stretcheth out our hands by coloring a chili pepper and donating a dollar! (I am not making light of this; it was pretty cool! And, my daughter loved that she was doing something for another child.)
Chili's wasn't quite from afar, just a few miles; we stopped at Barnes and Noble, but I didn't find any flax or wool.
:>)
It is less than an hour from our normal dinner time, and it would make sense to start cooking and stop blogging. But, I am having a not-so-creative moment. It is way past time to "riseth while it is yet night, and giveth meat to my household, and a portion to my maidens" so I'd better type fast and whip up dinner. (I still can't find those maidens, for the life of me!)
Never mind that I need to go to the grocery store because I have not "brought food from afar."
I haven't considered a field, much less bought one.
My candle was burning at both ends, so it went out pretty quick.
Clothing of tapestry, silk and purple? How about a cotton Hanes tee and some capri pants?
I would normally stretch out my hand to the poor, but since I haven't put my hands to the spindle, planted a vineyard, or brought food from a-near or afar, I don't have much to offer.
The one thing I can say is that my husband and child still arise up and call me blessed, I mean, Mom/Wife, ummm....that lady that stays on the laptop too long while we wait, hungry for dinner.
Now, where are those maidens!!!
P.S. After posting this, I went to the cupboard and just gave up. Unless Rachel Ray and McGyver showed up at my house, we just weren't going to eat.
So, I considereth Ruby Tuesday because my child praises their mac-n-cheese. En route, I reconsidereth-ed, (something like that) and we went to Chili's, being that Chili's actually lists the mac-n-cheese as "Kraft." I did openeth my mouth with wisdom and we went to the place afar that has Kraft mac-n-cheese, "OOOHH, MOMMY! You mean the powder kind?!"
Turns out, Chili's is sponsoring a rather awesome fundraiser for St. Jude's Hospital, so we did actually stretcheth out our hands by coloring a chili pepper and donating a dollar! (I am not making light of this; it was pretty cool! And, my daughter loved that she was doing something for another child.)
Chili's wasn't quite from afar, just a few miles; we stopped at Barnes and Noble, but I didn't find any flax or wool.
:>)
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Questions, Questions
"Mommy, do we have orange spray paint?"
"No, why?"
"Just wonderin'. Actually I was going to make a pumpkin."
"Why do you need spray paint?"
"I was going to spray a cotton ball orange and make a pumpkin."
"And, Mommy, if we go to California beach, we can make a kelp necklace. I will just poke holes in the kelp and tie it together and make a seaweed necklace and stick my head through. Would you let me bring home seaweed, too? Where's some yarn? That purple yarn that we use?"
I think we just broke the World Record for the most questions in less than a blink of an eye.
"No, why?"
"Just wonderin'. Actually I was going to make a pumpkin."
"Why do you need spray paint?"
"I was going to spray a cotton ball orange and make a pumpkin."
"And, Mommy, if we go to California beach, we can make a kelp necklace. I will just poke holes in the kelp and tie it together and make a seaweed necklace and stick my head through. Would you let me bring home seaweed, too? Where's some yarn? That purple yarn that we use?"
I think we just broke the World Record for the most questions in less than a blink of an eye.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
BLATANT PRODUCT ENDORSEMENT!!
I just bought a Dyson Pink vacuum cleaner. I have wanted a Dyson since they first came out,but I always wait a few years after a new product has been introduced. The price usually goes down and it takes that long for the manufacturer to work out all of the "kinks." Product testing only goes so far. Consumer reporting always reveals hidden problems. So, the product usually improves after some tweaking. (This is true for new cars, too!)
Let me say, I love this machine. I was actually demonstrating it to my husband. Yes, I was. The really cool thing about the Dyson Pink is that part of the proceeds ($40) goes to Breast Cancer Research!
So, if you are considering a Dyson, THINK PINK!
See Shannon for more tips!!
Blue Light Special
We have many educational moments while riding in the car. Maybe it is because I have my daughter's attention or because there are so many things to see that prompt a question. We have worked on reading using road signs, colors using traffic lights, and I have even taught my daughter a few traffic laws.
Yesterday we were waiting at a red light and my daughter asked,"Mommy, why do cars have to have license plates?"
I didn't even try to explain paying taxes. She is just now starting to understand sales tax. But I did tell her that when a policeman is about to pull someone over, he calls a person on a little radio, reads the license plate number, and then he knows who is supposed to be driving the car. If the driver is dangerous or has done something really bad, he knows to take them to jail.
Then she asked, "How does he pull them over?"
So, I explained the blue lights, the siren, and so on, and that everyone should pull to the right if a policeman is behind them with his lights and siren on. Most of the time, if a person is speeding or has run a stop sign or something, and they see those lights, they will know the policeman is trying to pull them over. Then, the policeman gives the person a ticket, and it isn't a good ticket like for the fair or the carnival.
She said,"No way! It's not a ticket to Disney World!"
I laughed, of course, and chalked that one up for another educational moment in the car.
We have always taught our daughter that policemen are the good guys. I have never threatened to "call the policeman over" when she has misbehaved in a store. I really hate that. I want her to respect the police and not be afraid. They are her friends, especially if she is ever in trouble and needs help.
That being said...
Today my husband picked her up from school. He must have been listening intently to the exciting details of our daughter's day, because he totally missed the speed limit sign. (I'll just assume that is what happened. :>))
You guessed it. He checked the mirror and had a lovely squad car offering a police escort over to the side of the road.
My daughter realized what was happening and said, "Who is going to take me home?"
Hubby said, "I will."
After a polite conversation with a deputy sheriff, my husband received his present- a nice, fat ticket. And, no, it wasn't to Disney World.
When it was all over, my daughter said,"I'm hot."
Hubby replied, "Well, I'll just turn on the air conditioning."
She said,"No. I was sweating. I was scared he was going to take you to jail."
Another educational moment in the car. And a reminder that Mom and Dad need to explain things a little more clearly. And slow down.
I'm just glad it wasn't in a construction zone where "workers are present." :>)))
Yesterday we were waiting at a red light and my daughter asked,"Mommy, why do cars have to have license plates?"
I didn't even try to explain paying taxes. She is just now starting to understand sales tax. But I did tell her that when a policeman is about to pull someone over, he calls a person on a little radio, reads the license plate number, and then he knows who is supposed to be driving the car. If the driver is dangerous or has done something really bad, he knows to take them to jail.
Then she asked, "How does he pull them over?"
So, I explained the blue lights, the siren, and so on, and that everyone should pull to the right if a policeman is behind them with his lights and siren on. Most of the time, if a person is speeding or has run a stop sign or something, and they see those lights, they will know the policeman is trying to pull them over. Then, the policeman gives the person a ticket, and it isn't a good ticket like for the fair or the carnival.
She said,"No way! It's not a ticket to Disney World!"
I laughed, of course, and chalked that one up for another educational moment in the car.
We have always taught our daughter that policemen are the good guys. I have never threatened to "call the policeman over" when she has misbehaved in a store. I really hate that. I want her to respect the police and not be afraid. They are her friends, especially if she is ever in trouble and needs help.
That being said...
Today my husband picked her up from school. He must have been listening intently to the exciting details of our daughter's day, because he totally missed the speed limit sign. (I'll just assume that is what happened. :>))
You guessed it. He checked the mirror and had a lovely squad car offering a police escort over to the side of the road.
My daughter realized what was happening and said, "Who is going to take me home?"
Hubby said, "I will."
After a polite conversation with a deputy sheriff, my husband received his present- a nice, fat ticket. And, no, it wasn't to Disney World.
When it was all over, my daughter said,"I'm hot."
Hubby replied, "Well, I'll just turn on the air conditioning."
She said,"No. I was sweating. I was scared he was going to take you to jail."
Another educational moment in the car. And a reminder that Mom and Dad need to explain things a little more clearly. And slow down.
I'm just glad it wasn't in a construction zone where "workers are present." :>)))
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Like Coming Home
My husband was away for a few days visiting some family. We have been apart before, for much longer than a weekend, but this time I missed him a lot. There is just something about seeing my sweetheart walk through the door with his bags over his shoulder. It is like I am coming home, too.
Welcome home, to my sweet husband. It is nice to have our family together again- Daddy, Mommy, daughter, cat, fish, sea monkeys... and whatever else shows up at the door hungry. :>)
Welcome home, to my sweet husband. It is nice to have our family together again- Daddy, Mommy, daughter, cat, fish, sea monkeys... and whatever else shows up at the door hungry. :>)
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Friday, September 15, 2006
Bigger Fish To Fry
Maggie has moved on to bigger and more frightening things.
It seems that Carol and Howard have started to keep up with their socks.
This is Maggie's latest catch.
This is Maggie's latest catch.
There should be some sort of Project Runway Anonymous or something.
I think I have watched too much Project Runway.
Last night, I dreamt that I was on the Today show and I won a design contest. My model was Naomi Campbell. The winning outfit was pink and Naomi's make-up was pink. As part of the contest, I was able to design my very own signature perfume which was, yep, pink.
In the dream, I was hanging out with my gal pal Naomi, sitting in a director's chair with Ann and Matt. I phoned all of my relatives from the show to tell them I had won.
More proof that I have become too involved in PR-
Tears started to well up in my eyes when Laura won the other night. I am one of her biggest cheerleaders since she announced her pregnancy, although, I would like to see her wear something besides that black dress. Do any of you southern girls out there join with me in the joy that Laura has protected that porcelain skin from the sun? I think she must be southern somewhere in her background- tan free and coral red lipstick.
I would like to see Laura win, but I have a feeling the winner will be Michael. The judges act like it's Christmas every time Michael's model struts the catwalk. (He is very talented.) To paraphrase Michael Kor's comments on Michael's designs- "Oh, I love the way he thinks about everything." I never knew fashion designers minored in philosophy.
Maybe Laura will end up designing a fabulous line of maternity wear. She can appreciate the need for comfortable and fashionable clothes. Goodness knows expectant mothers would love to see something in the stores besides big bows and those awful t-shirts that have a huge arrow and the word "Baby"- like we couldn't figure that out.
My bet for next week- Uli is voted off. I'd like to see Jeffrey go. Too much attitude. What do you think?
Last night, I dreamt that I was on the Today show and I won a design contest. My model was Naomi Campbell. The winning outfit was pink and Naomi's make-up was pink. As part of the contest, I was able to design my very own signature perfume which was, yep, pink.
In the dream, I was hanging out with my gal pal Naomi, sitting in a director's chair with Ann and Matt. I phoned all of my relatives from the show to tell them I had won.
More proof that I have become too involved in PR-
Tears started to well up in my eyes when Laura won the other night. I am one of her biggest cheerleaders since she announced her pregnancy, although, I would like to see her wear something besides that black dress. Do any of you southern girls out there join with me in the joy that Laura has protected that porcelain skin from the sun? I think she must be southern somewhere in her background- tan free and coral red lipstick.
I would like to see Laura win, but I have a feeling the winner will be Michael. The judges act like it's Christmas every time Michael's model struts the catwalk. (He is very talented.) To paraphrase Michael Kor's comments on Michael's designs- "Oh, I love the way he thinks about everything." I never knew fashion designers minored in philosophy.
Maybe Laura will end up designing a fabulous line of maternity wear. She can appreciate the need for comfortable and fashionable clothes. Goodness knows expectant mothers would love to see something in the stores besides big bows and those awful t-shirts that have a huge arrow and the word "Baby"- like we couldn't figure that out.
My bet for next week- Uli is voted off. I'd like to see Jeffrey go. Too much attitude. What do you think?
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Thirteen Trivial Things You Never Wanted To Know About Me
1. When I make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for myself, I always mix the peanut butter and jelly together in a bowl first. And, I prefer apply jelly, not grape.
2. I have no desire to go to the moon. Really.
3. I love Tom Petty, but I don't think he can sing.
4. It has never been confirmed by any diagnostic tests or anything, but I am fairly certain that I am double jointed.
5. Clowns freak me out.
6. One of my favorite lines from Forrest Gump is, "Sometimes, there just aren't enough rocks."
7. I was one of the few people who actually liked The English Patient.
8. When I was little, I wanted a steak and baked potato instead of the kid's hamburger at Western Sizzlin. I know. Weird. (Don't worry. I didn't eat all of it!)
9. I've never had a pedicure. (that I didn't do myself)
10. I have always wanted a Corvette.
11. I think every woman should know how to bait her own hook.
12. I read phone books when we are on vacation to see if there are any people in town with our family name. I don't call them. I just look it up. Oh, and I read the dictionary, too. My husband thinks I'm weird.
13. Whenever you suffer insomnia, I recommend you read this list again. :>)
2. I have no desire to go to the moon. Really.
3. I love Tom Petty, but I don't think he can sing.
4. It has never been confirmed by any diagnostic tests or anything, but I am fairly certain that I am double jointed.
5. Clowns freak me out.
6. One of my favorite lines from Forrest Gump is, "Sometimes, there just aren't enough rocks."
7. I was one of the few people who actually liked The English Patient.
8. When I was little, I wanted a steak and baked potato instead of the kid's hamburger at Western Sizzlin. I know. Weird. (Don't worry. I didn't eat all of it!)
9. I've never had a pedicure. (that I didn't do myself)
10. I have always wanted a Corvette.
11. I think every woman should know how to bait her own hook.
12. I read phone books when we are on vacation to see if there are any people in town with our family name. I don't call them. I just look it up. Oh, and I read the dictionary, too. My husband thinks I'm weird.
13. Whenever you suffer insomnia, I recommend you read this list again. :>)
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
The Winn Dixie Music Collection: Volume 5
Today was a day that could change my life forever. Some people are discovered at the soda fountain, some on American Idol. But, for me, it was Winn Dixie.
I love to sing, and it seems that the grocery stores and the drug stores play the best music. They should sell collections late at night on QVC. Really.
In the baking goods aisle (I may or may not have put a box of brownie mix in my cart), I was jamming to Ain't No Mountain High Enough. I tried to keep my voice down to a modest hum, but my head bopped a lot. I think I may have looked like a hen pecking feed.
I always seem to hear some Sail Away or If You Get Lost Between The Moon and New York City at some point during my shopping trip. Today was a special treat. The music took me back, waaayyyy back. Back to the days of stirrup pants and Bill Cosby sweaters. It was a Solid Gold moment.
Hard To Say I'm Sorry.
Ya'll, I tried. I really did. But, you just can't hum to that song. You have to get it out, because all of us had a boyfriend in high school that we picture every time we hear those lyrics. We are either still trying to tell him we are sorry, or wishing he had told us he was sorry.
That smooth voice of Peter and The Band just made me wanna sing. And, I did. Oh, yes I did. It was karaoke time in the deodorant aisle at Winn Dixie.
I was crooning with Chicago, my friends...
Hold me now.
It's hard for me to say I'm sorry!
I just waaaaannnt you to stay...
After all that we've been through
I will make it up to you
I PROMISE TO!
And after all that's been said and duh-yun!
You're just a part of me I can never let goooo...
Oh-woaa-woaaa.....ooooo
If I had been wearing a collar, I would have put it up. Oh, yes. I was cool. Rockin' in Winn Dixie. No one was watching, except for the security people who, as we speak, are probably calling the local radio stations to play my performance for the morning talk show.
Rock on.
I love to sing, and it seems that the grocery stores and the drug stores play the best music. They should sell collections late at night on QVC. Really.
In the baking goods aisle (I may or may not have put a box of brownie mix in my cart), I was jamming to Ain't No Mountain High Enough. I tried to keep my voice down to a modest hum, but my head bopped a lot. I think I may have looked like a hen pecking feed.
I always seem to hear some Sail Away or If You Get Lost Between The Moon and New York City at some point during my shopping trip. Today was a special treat. The music took me back, waaayyyy back. Back to the days of stirrup pants and Bill Cosby sweaters. It was a Solid Gold moment.
Hard To Say I'm Sorry.
Ya'll, I tried. I really did. But, you just can't hum to that song. You have to get it out, because all of us had a boyfriend in high school that we picture every time we hear those lyrics. We are either still trying to tell him we are sorry, or wishing he had told us he was sorry.
That smooth voice of Peter and The Band just made me wanna sing. And, I did. Oh, yes I did. It was karaoke time in the deodorant aisle at Winn Dixie.
I was crooning with Chicago, my friends...
Hold me now.
It's hard for me to say I'm sorry!
I just waaaaannnt you to stay...
After all that we've been through
I will make it up to you
I PROMISE TO!
And after all that's been said and duh-yun!
You're just a part of me I can never let goooo...
Oh-woaa-woaaa.....ooooo
If I had been wearing a collar, I would have put it up. Oh, yes. I was cool. Rockin' in Winn Dixie. No one was watching, except for the security people who, as we speak, are probably calling the local radio stations to play my performance for the morning talk show.
Rock on.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
More Fascinating Observations
Have you ever noticed that the shoppers in Target are wearing either flip flips or clogs? Well, I am here to share another sociological study with you.
Do you ever get on your knees and thank God that you know me and have access to my dementia? (points for whoever guesses where that quote is from!)
I used to be a Wal-mart and a Target shopper. But lately, I have left ole' Sam in the dust and embraced that cute dog with the red circle around his eye. BTW- Doesn't he look like Petey from Little Rascals?
The Wally World near us has just turned into chaos. I am not a Target snob; I still love Dollar General and hello! The Dollar Tree! But, when I have to venture into a 100 acre discount store, Tar-zzhay is for me.
I can see that you are at the edge of your seat, so let's proceed to The Very Important Sociological Observations-
Picture this. A mom and three boys at the end of the day. You can imagine how tired the little guys are after a long day at school and who knows how many Capri-suns. Now mom is trying to shop. Is she insane?
This is what I overheard from a few aisles over. (The great thing about huge stores with high ceilings and tile floors is that any sound magnifies to like 1000 times.)
"AAAAAAHHHHHH! "
"STOP IT!!!"
"Mom!"
"Boys!!! Sandwich! Tape!"
This is the part that cracked me up. I have heard of "Zip it," "Hold a bubble in your mouth," and the all time favorite "I'll give ya somethin' to cry about." But, Sandwich Tape? This one is new. I must have missed that Supernanny.
My first thought was, Sandwich- the kid imagines closing his mouth like you put the two pieces of bread. Then, I wondered if you stuff the sandwich in the kid's mouth, then put the tape on. That would work. ;>) What kind of sandwich does the kid imagine? I decided to go with a peanut butter sandwich, the kind that sticks to the roof of the mouth. As for the tape- gotta go with a classic- duct tape. This is all virtual and not literal, of course.
Either way- duct tape, scotch tape, peanut butter or ham, the "Sandwich! Tape!" method didn't work. The boys kept screaming and doing what brothers do- torture and tease each other in public.
That poor mom was at her wit's end when I heard her say, "Atticus! Enough!"
Yes, the kid's name was Atticus. I don't know what is funnier- A kid imagining a PB & J and duct tape to stay quiet, or a kid named Atticus. Bless his heart. He is destined to become a lawyer.
This was my day. Full of unbridled excitement. And peanut butter sandwiches.
Do you ever get on your knees and thank God that you know me and have access to my dementia? (points for whoever guesses where that quote is from!)
I used to be a Wal-mart and a Target shopper. But lately, I have left ole' Sam in the dust and embraced that cute dog with the red circle around his eye. BTW- Doesn't he look like Petey from Little Rascals?
The Wally World near us has just turned into chaos. I am not a Target snob; I still love Dollar General and hello! The Dollar Tree! But, when I have to venture into a 100 acre discount store, Tar-zzhay is for me.
I can see that you are at the edge of your seat, so let's proceed to The Very Important Sociological Observations-
Picture this. A mom and three boys at the end of the day. You can imagine how tired the little guys are after a long day at school and who knows how many Capri-suns. Now mom is trying to shop. Is she insane?
This is what I overheard from a few aisles over. (The great thing about huge stores with high ceilings and tile floors is that any sound magnifies to like 1000 times.)
"AAAAAAHHHHHH! "
"STOP IT!!!"
"Mom!"
"Boys!!! Sandwich! Tape!"
This is the part that cracked me up. I have heard of "Zip it," "Hold a bubble in your mouth," and the all time favorite "I'll give ya somethin' to cry about." But, Sandwich Tape? This one is new. I must have missed that Supernanny.
My first thought was, Sandwich- the kid imagines closing his mouth like you put the two pieces of bread. Then, I wondered if you stuff the sandwich in the kid's mouth, then put the tape on. That would work. ;>) What kind of sandwich does the kid imagine? I decided to go with a peanut butter sandwich, the kind that sticks to the roof of the mouth. As for the tape- gotta go with a classic- duct tape. This is all virtual and not literal, of course.
Either way- duct tape, scotch tape, peanut butter or ham, the "Sandwich! Tape!" method didn't work. The boys kept screaming and doing what brothers do- torture and tease each other in public.
That poor mom was at her wit's end when I heard her say, "Atticus! Enough!"
Yes, the kid's name was Atticus. I don't know what is funnier- A kid imagining a PB & J and duct tape to stay quiet, or a kid named Atticus. Bless his heart. He is destined to become a lawyer.
This was my day. Full of unbridled excitement. And peanut butter sandwiches.
Monday, September 11, 2006
That's My Girl!
I bought a new outfit for my daughter- a cute Fall top and peasant skirt. The peasant skirt had an ecru background with lots of pattern and color. Very funky and girly, with a little bit of western and a little bit of Hawaiian print all at once. I call it "Lilo meets Jessie in Macy's."
The bag was on the back seat when my daughter hopped in after school. Sometimes it's nice to have a surprise. She opened the bag, pulled out the outfit, and immediately said,"Oh, Mommy! I love it! Love it! Love it!"
Then, she noticed the ecru background (thinking it was white) and said, "Can I wear this after Labor Day?"
A girl after my own heart. My grandmother would be proud.
The bag was on the back seat when my daughter hopped in after school. Sometimes it's nice to have a surprise. She opened the bag, pulled out the outfit, and immediately said,"Oh, Mommy! I love it! Love it! Love it!"
Then, she noticed the ecru background (thinking it was white) and said, "Can I wear this after Labor Day?"
A girl after my own heart. My grandmother would be proud.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
I Choose To Remember
Remembering September 11, 2001
The Shock, The Sorrow, and The Fear
My grandparents could tell me where they were the day of Pearl Harbor. My parents could tell me where they were the day Kennedy was shot. Now, I will tell my daughter where we were the day her world changed, September 11, 2001.
We were traveling home from a visit with my family. It was a long drive and we decided to spend a night in a hotel en route. Traveling in the car for long periods of time with a little one is not easy.
That morning, my husband had already returned from breakfast. I always either go down for breakfast later, or my sweet husband brings breakfast and coffee up to our room. He has done this since we first married.
He was in the shower when the first plane struck. I was watching the Today show. Katie and Matt detailed the facts they had at the time- that a plane had hit one of the towers of The World Trade Center. No one knew why or how a plane could collide with a tower in broad daylight, on a clear day. Cameras were rolling as smoke filled the air from the crash.
I yelled through the bathroom door and shared the awful news with my husband.
"Must have had been off their IFR," he said.
Then, it happened. The second plane hit. I was sitting at the end of that hotel bed and just began to sob. I told my husband the news. By then, we both knew this was no accident.
My daughter was very young at the time so, I was able to watch the news without her knowing what was truly happening. I just kept sobbing and sobbing, and praying. Those poor people.
I remember going down to the hotel lobby and watching the news with the other guests. We were sipping our coffee just like any other morning. But, even then I think we all knew that this was something big, something bigger than we had ever experienced in our lifetime.
I asked my husband if it was safe to be on the highway again. What would happen next? How do we know what is going on? How will we know if it is going to be safe on the roads? He explained that we were probably safer on the road, than in a hotel- full of people- a prime target for an attack.
We packed our things and headed home, listening to the radio to the rest of the terrible news. The Pentagon. That Pennsylvania field.
The image that will never leave my mind is the photo of the person pushing a grocery cart full of small children, running away from the towers to save their lives. I will never forget that.
I will never forget the events that took place that day. I choose to remember. I choose to remember so that I can learn from what happened, and by remembering, I can one day tell my own daughter where I was September 11, 2001, the day my world changed forever.
But it goes deeper than that...
I have to tell her what it felt like to be afraid of strangers who looked different from me. I have to tell her that I felt guilty for those feelings.
I will tell her how I was afraid to open the mail, and that I would always wash my hands immediately after getting the mail from the mailbox.
I will tell her how the military sprang into action to protect our President, our air space, and our own lives.
I will tell her that I was afraid to go to the mall or downtown, for fear of another attack in a public place.
I will tell her that many people died as a result of these attacks. Some of them died that day. Others died years later in Afghanistan and Iraq while protecting our freedom.
I will tell her that the attacks on September 11 were an act of religious war, no matter what people say.
I will tell her that Jesus Himself said we would be hated for His Sake.
And I will tell her that our God is a God of judgement and soverignty. He is also a God of Love, and because of that Love, He sent Jesus to die on our behalf. Once we ask forgiveness of our sins and ask Him into our hearts, He will dwell there forever. He died for all people- for me, for her, and for Osama Bin Laden. But, we choose to receive His gift or turn it away.
To live in fellowship with Jehovah God, we must take the only path He has given us- through the blood of Jesus Christ. Then, and only then, can a person live and die in peace. Once Jesus dwells in her heart, nothing will separate her from God. No bomb. No war. No man. Nothing.
"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8: 35-39
A Meme for Kids
I was tagged for the Snapshot Meme by Laurel Wreath. The purpose of the meme is to found out something about your kids that you may not know. You might be surprised by their answers. Here is what my little girl said-
1.Something I Do Well- "I'm good at drawing and doing cartwheels."
2.Something I'd Like to Improve On- "Doing handstands."
3.My Favorite Food-"grapes (she is eating them right now), and fish"
4.Three Words that Best Describe-"very nice, funny, loves animals" side comment- "Why are you doing this?"
5.My Happiest Moment- "My first loose tooth."
6.The Most Important Thing in my Life Now- "everybody and every animal"
7. Then to the moms: Were you surprised by any of the answers? I was surprised about the loose tooth. But I also remember that it had become sort of a contest to see who had the most teeth missing in her class. I wasn't surprised about the animal answers. She was very interested in why I was doing this, so I told her we were playing trivia. :>)
Now tag someone with interesting, hilarious, mysterious or spunky children! I tag Big Mama.
1.Something I Do Well- "I'm good at drawing and doing cartwheels."
2.Something I'd Like to Improve On- "Doing handstands."
3.My Favorite Food-"grapes (she is eating them right now), and fish"
4.Three Words that Best Describe-"very nice, funny, loves animals" side comment- "Why are you doing this?"
5.My Happiest Moment- "My first loose tooth."
6.The Most Important Thing in my Life Now- "everybody and every animal"
7. Then to the moms: Were you surprised by any of the answers? I was surprised about the loose tooth. But I also remember that it had become sort of a contest to see who had the most teeth missing in her class. I wasn't surprised about the animal answers. She was very interested in why I was doing this, so I told her we were playing trivia. :>)
Now tag someone with interesting, hilarious, mysterious or spunky children! I tag Big Mama.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Dear OSHA,
Every day I pass a construction site. Like most construction sites, the sign above is posted for all to see. I used to think this sign was to encourage safety, especially when the workers are so very close to the road...future road... eventual flat surface.
The other day I had one of my epiphanies- The Men Working sign is not for safety. It is displayed in bright orange in an effort to convince me that indeed there are men working nearby. Because, let me tell you, if they are working at any point during their 8 minute day, it's not while I am driving by.
The construction site is near a traffic light so I, the nosy, I mean observant person that I am, sit there many times watching the complicated, yet unrefined dynamics of this sociological group. (My parents sent me to college for something. They're gonna be just puffed up with pride about this one.)
This is what I observed, objectively and scientifically, of course. ;>)
Total men "working"- 14. I counted. The light was red.
One man was standing next to the Men Working sign.
Another man was watching the man standing next to the sign. I concluded, based on the scientific method, that he is some sort of "sign supervisor" or "sign trainer" and the other guy was the "sign apprentice."
I didn't see Donald Trump anywhere, but, I think if you are fired from the "Men Working sign watcher" apprenticeship, you are demoted to the "Slow sign holder" position.
Apparently, the Slow sign does not have its own stand. Over in Mississippi somewhere there is a Slow sign stand factory where there is a Men Working sign displayed because roughly a dozen or so men are working on Slow sign stands.
Ok. Here is another thing I am confused about. If the Slow sign is used to promote safety and encourage drivers to indeed Slow down, then why is there a man holding the sign- you know- directly in the path of the speeding cars? This is perhaps some sort of secret construction worker initiation.
I digress.
Let's continue with this highly regarded sociological study...
There was one man who actually looked like he may be breaking a sweat. He was operating the crane.
There were four men standing on top of a pile of lumber next to the crane. One of them was waving his arms. I think he was saying,"Hey, guys! Here comes a lady in a car. Look like you are working. I don't think she saw the sign."
The rest of the study group stood off to the side, leaning on things that looked really mechanical and important. They were the construction version of the Baptist Committee on Committees. I think one of them was wearing Fonzi's jacket.
I still don't have a clue why I have only observed the Men Working sign at construction sites. Surely there are many more hazardous work environments.
Does the DEA display an "Undercover Agents Working" sign outside the crack house just before a drug bust? Sounds pretty dangerous to me.
And why doesn't the state trooper put an "Approaching Unknown Crazed Speeder" sign outside of his squad car before he approaches said crazed speeder? Walking up to a lunatic on the side of the freeway with cars racing by at 75 mph, is, oh, I'd say pretty dangerous. By the way, if anyone needs the Slow sign, it's the state trooper.
How about the Kindergarten teacher on the first day of school? Doesn't she deserve some sort of sign? Like, "Please, for the love of Pete, someone help me!" or "Early Childhood Educator Ahead- Use Caution" or how about "Classroom Full of Five Year Olds With Attention Deficit Disorder and Poor Hygiene Habits." Oooooo... that gives me chills just thinking it.
What OSHA hasn't required is the Mom Working sign. According to some blogs, being a mom can be quite hazardous. There are rocks drying, poo flying, and sea monkeys dying on a daily basis.
And they think this job is for sissies.
Blogger Beta
Dear Blogger Beta Buddies-
I keep trying to leave a comment on your blog but the blogger powers that be just won't let me.
Is this the blog version of being excluded on the playground? I will go back to the monkey bars now with the other geeks in the class.
;>)
I keep trying to leave a comment on your blog but the blogger powers that be just won't let me.
Is this the blog version of being excluded on the playground? I will go back to the monkey bars now with the other geeks in the class.
;>)
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Towanda is back and she's got her big girl pants on!
Look out, world! Here I come!
This is the kind of day I have been having...
This morning while I was turning left with a green arrow, a man pulled out in front of me. He had a red light, mind you, and he was waving his arms muttering something at me. Thankfully, we did not have an accident. I was able to brake early enough to avoid hitting him.
I was driving my daughter to school, and for some reason when she is in the car with me I take my driving and that of others very seriously. I go into Mama Lion mode. I am like, "Bring it on, honey." This morning's driving incident was no different, ok it was a little different.
I promise you that all I had to drink was regular Folger's coffee and that I am not on hormones, stimulants, or any other mind altering drug. But, for the love of Pete, when that man pulled in front of me, all I wanted to do was rear end that old Honda with my Camry.
Really.
And, the ironic thing about it is that I felt quite calm.
It wouldn't have bothered me so much if 1) My daughter had not been in the car, 2) I was not turning on a green arrow, and 3) He had not started flailing his arms and muttering at me.
I realize this hit and run method of coping is not the most Christian way to react to things. But, I have to be honest with you. The temptation was there; I just didn't give in.
All I could think about was Towanda and how she hit that little VW bug in the Winn Dixie parking lot over and over. It was priceless. I could just see myself coming home and telling my husband about it.
"Melanie, what I can't understand is how you hit someone six times by accident."
"Oh, no. You've got it all wrong. I hit that guy's car on purpose."
"Why?"
"Because I am the Mama Lion. And he was getting mouthy."
Yes, this is completely not how Christ would respond. Not to mention, it is insane. Sometimes I think it helps to share that we are not perfect, we do not always walk in love, and we do not always bear the kind of fruit that would glorify God. What matters is that now I have to choose the right way to grow from this experience.
Today was a reminder of why I need to stay in God's Word, listen closely to His Voice, and strive to walk and sometimes drive in The Spirit.
This is the kind of day I have been having...
This morning while I was turning left with a green arrow, a man pulled out in front of me. He had a red light, mind you, and he was waving his arms muttering something at me. Thankfully, we did not have an accident. I was able to brake early enough to avoid hitting him.
I was driving my daughter to school, and for some reason when she is in the car with me I take my driving and that of others very seriously. I go into Mama Lion mode. I am like, "Bring it on, honey." This morning's driving incident was no different, ok it was a little different.
I promise you that all I had to drink was regular Folger's coffee and that I am not on hormones, stimulants, or any other mind altering drug. But, for the love of Pete, when that man pulled in front of me, all I wanted to do was rear end that old Honda with my Camry.
Really.
And, the ironic thing about it is that I felt quite calm.
It wouldn't have bothered me so much if 1) My daughter had not been in the car, 2) I was not turning on a green arrow, and 3) He had not started flailing his arms and muttering at me.
I realize this hit and run method of coping is not the most Christian way to react to things. But, I have to be honest with you. The temptation was there; I just didn't give in.
All I could think about was Towanda and how she hit that little VW bug in the Winn Dixie parking lot over and over. It was priceless. I could just see myself coming home and telling my husband about it.
"Melanie, what I can't understand is how you hit someone six times by accident."
"Oh, no. You've got it all wrong. I hit that guy's car on purpose."
"Why?"
"Because I am the Mama Lion. And he was getting mouthy."
Yes, this is completely not how Christ would respond. Not to mention, it is insane. Sometimes I think it helps to share that we are not perfect, we do not always walk in love, and we do not always bear the kind of fruit that would glorify God. What matters is that now I have to choose the right way to grow from this experience.
Today was a reminder of why I need to stay in God's Word, listen closely to His Voice, and strive to walk and sometimes drive in The Spirit.
The Binky Fairy
This is not my idea. I took it from The Supernanny- one of my favorite shows. I saw this idea Monday night and immediately knew it would be my "Works for Me" for this week.
A little girl on the show was having a hard time giving up her pacifier. Supernanny helped the child put all of her "binkies" in a bag for the binky fairy. It seems the binky fairy needs pacifiers for little babies who don't have any. They hung the bag full of binkies on a tree outside. Overnight, the binky fairy came and collected the bag. The next morning, they found another bag in the tree- with a very special present.
The little girl was so excited! She had a new doll from the binky fairy.
I thought this was so clever and sweet! And I thought there was only a tooth fairy. ;>)
Visit Shannon for more tips.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Remembering Steve Irwin, The Crocodile Hunter
Celebrity deaths don't always get to me, but this one did. Steve Irwin has been in my living room, along with his lovely wife Terri, on many occasions. They always brought the most fascinating animals with them. It is sad to say farewell to a real legend. Irwin taught us about animals, respect for all wildlife, and how to pass this down to our children more than any other person since the days of Marlin Perkins.
More than The Crocodile Hunter, the role that made him famous, Irwin was a husband and father. That is truly what we should remember today.
My heart goes out to Terri, a real mom just like me. She is now left to raise her two lovely children without their father.
Please remember the Irwin family during their loss.
Now go hug your own husband and kids.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Friday, September 01, 2006
The Ultimate Sacrifice
Lest We Forget
Captain John E. Tipton
Army Captain John E. Tipton, 32, was killed in an explosion while conducting combat missions in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. He commanded Headquarters, Headquarters Company, 1st Battalion, 16th Infantry Regiment, 1st Infantry Division, Ft. Riley, Kansas. Tipton was a native of Ft. Walton Beach, Florida. 
To Captain Tipton and his family- we honor your sacrifice.
"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." John 15: 13
*sources: Dayton Daily News, Miami Herald, United States Department of Defense
*photo: www.army.mil
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