And they brought Frank, Sense, and Tropicana Gold

Yesterday in Sunday School, our lesson was about the wise men and the three gifts they brought to Jesus- Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh.

I shared with them that the Frankincense and Myrrh both smelled very good and were very special. I pretty much left it at that for their level.

Then we played a simple game. I placed several items in sandwich bags for them to smell-peppermint, soap, a fabric softener dryer sheet, and orange peels.

Later on, during our review, I asked them a few questions...

What town was Jesus in when the Wise Men visited him?

"Bethlehem."

How many gifts did they bring?

"Three."

What were the gifts?

"Gold, Frank and Sense and Myrrh."

Very good, it was Gold, Frankincense...that's a tough word... and Myrrh.

Which gifts smelled really good?

"The oranges."

Comment...er..post of the week.

Well, it's Sunday. Most Sundays I post a comment of the week, but I am throwing caution to the wind. I'm gonna mix things up a bit and post a "post of the week."

Because, people, my dear friend Linda is needin' the love.

Go read her post about Christmas dinner. Leave her some words of sympathy or maybe just have a moment of silence for her poor ham.

Here's to you, Linda, for keepin' it real!



;>)

Consider this my last PSA for 2007.

It's almost time, y'all.




Almost time for Target's 90% off Christmas Clearance.



I was out scouting for some goodies yesterday in anticipation of the markdown. Keep your eyes posted and your calculators ready...

When he cares enough to forget the very best.

Once the stress and hoopla of Christmas pass, there seems to be a new feeling in the air. It is hard to put my finger on it, but it feels like I have been on a roller coaster, about to be sick, and then they let me off and I'm walking around the amusement park with my head still spinning.

Oh, and I've had way too much cotton candy.

I keep thinking I will start putting away some of the decorations or maybe start a new project or maybe even get all the laundry done. Then the Hershey's miniatures and my daughter start calling me, and somehow none of the projects get done. I now know how the Egyptians maintained focus to build the pyramids; they hadn't invented Hershey's miniatures.

We've also had other things going on. It isn't just about the sugar highs.

We have been taking care of our neighbors' dog this week. Caring for a dog is different than caring for a cat. You don't walk a cat.

Well, you could try, but I'd like to read that post.

Plus, cats (whether indoor or outdoor) are easy to care for when it comes to potty issues. You either let them outside, or they go inside in a litter box. If you are lucky like us, you train your cat to go outside in the garage to go in the litter box, but then she has a mid-life crisis and goes inside anyway. On the rugs.

Joy.

Here's another thing about cats. Cats aren't hyper like dogs. Kittens have a lot of energy but then they have their first birthday and they get over it.

As my daughter says, "Maggie looks bored all the time."

I told her that this is how cats look cool. Cats think that dogs look stupid always jumping around and wagging their tails and hanging their tongues out like idiots. All the while, there is a cat on a porch all excited and dying to let it out, but having to stay cool and look bored.

Come to think of it, this could explain the neurosis of cats. They are just big balls of nervous fur.

So we've been feeding and walking the neighbor's dog. The first time we went for a walk, I went prepared with a bag for scooping. We didn't need it. She just walked and sniffed and peed.

The next morning we took her for a walk, it was very cold and I grabbed my husband's coat as we headed out the door. Halfway around the block, our little canine friend decided to leave a little something special in someone's yard. I didn't have a bag.

I started to rummage through the neighbor's trash but decided against it. It was the day after Christmas. They'd think I was a thief. Or just weird.

Then I reached in my husband's coat pocket and found a tiny piece of paper, a list he had taken to the store. Hmmm... not big enough for that. I reached in another pocket and found a Christmas card- for me- still in the Wal-mart bag. He had forgotten all about it. No matter, I had forgotten to give him his, too.

I took out the card and used the bag to scoop the poo. Then I read the card. It was sweet. Heartwarming. Unsigned.

And very timely.

Merry Christmas, Honey. Here's to another Hallmark moment.

What's the rush?

This morning I logged on to read some of the News and they are already telling me how to lose my holiday pounds.

Hey, Associated Press! How about a little Christmas Spirit, huh?

Let me savor the moments of Christmas. The cheer, the peace, hope, love. The fudge.

Yeah, and the Hershey's miniatures. Let's not leave out the little ones.

;>)

You Are Invited

Since the day after Thanksgiving, I've heard it said.

"Happy Holidays."

We've explained a little bit about the saga of Christmas and semantics to our daughter. Each time she sees something written or hears anything other than "Merry Christmas," she mentions it to one of us.

I told her that there are those who say "Happy Holidays" or "Seasons Greetings" because they do not want to offend anyone. But, truly there are those who refuse to acknowledge Christmas because they do not believe in God.

Sure, they want to celebrate something. Winter. The Season. The (your preference here.) Anything not related to religion.

The best analogy I could come up with was this- It is like someone coming to a birthday party wanting a treat bag, but they show up without a gift.

But the truth of the matter is that these guests have no idea that they were invited to the party. They think they are party crashers, when in fact they are not.

They were issued an invitation long ago.

Jesus came over 2000 years ago. He was born of a miraculous birth and lived a perfect life. He died on the cross, punishment for all of mankind's sin. He did this because He loves us. He wants everyone to come to know Him, accepting Him as their Savior.

Every. One.

And if eternal life with God were not enough, the greatest part about this invitation is that you don't have to bring a thing.

Only your heart.

Go ahead and "RSVP." Don't wait. Accept God's Invitation today. Give Jesus your heart this Christmas.

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son,

that whosoever believeth in him, should not perish, but have everlasting life.

For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world,

but that the world through Him might be saved."

John 3:16-17

Merry Christmas

I said, Has anyone seen Flick?*

It is Christmas Eve, the little lights are twinkling, daughter is almost tucked in bed, the kitchen is clean, Norad is tracking Santa and Ralphie is about to beat up Scut Farkus.

Can it get any better than this?

Good night, y'all.

;>)

* A Christmas Story, the funniest Christmas movie of all time.

Random Facts and Some Seriously Good Linkage

1. Did y'all know that my husband is one of the best cookie makers? He is making cookies with our daughter right now. And, yes, I am blogging. Ahem.

2. I have to go to the grocery store. I have lost my mind. I keep thinking of a store that no one may be at, but that will have everything I need. I don't think we have one of those.

3. Maggie keeps hiding under the tree. She thinks she is a present. She is. She is the present that keeps on taking.

4. Mr. Edwards caught another beaver. We have at least two more to go in our pond. More on that later...

5. Roxanne has written one of her best posts about her Daddy and his Sunday best. Head on over there to read it. Seriously, good stuff!

Michael W. Smith- It's A Wonderful Christmas CD Review

I received my free Michael W. Smith It's A Wonderful Christmas CD in the mail several weeks ago. In an effort to really savor the music before posting, I've listened to the CD on several occasions- while putting the lights on our tree, making dinner, preparing breakfast for my parents, and even cleaning house. All of these tasks may not seem very "Christmasy" or even festive, but I found that as I listened, I was reminded of the Gift of the Season.

Jesus Christ, My Lord.

Several words would describe this Christmas CD for me- Reverent, Joyful, and Worshipful. Carefully arranged, the collection takes you on a journey from exuberant praise to quiet admiration.

This CD will certainly be a keeper in my Christmas collection. I look forward to taking it out each year in celebration of the birth of Christ.

Thanks to Provident and Michael W. Smith for this opportunity.

This could be material for a Hallmark commercial.

So, I've been thinking a lot lately about how we all try to measure up, how we compare ourselves to other women, other friends, other people we never even met. We do this as women, and most of the time we make ourselves miserable in the process.

Christmas is the time we do this the most. It is the Big One. The Mother of All Holidays.

We look back at Christmas Past and compare it to Christmas Present. We see ourselves under the tree, in our Scooby Doo pajamas, eating a candy cane and playing with our new Malibu Barbie. All we remember, for the most part, is that Christmas was great. To us, it was perfect. Mama had her act together, or so we thought.

Then there was Grandma. The woman embodied hospitality and homemaking. Hey, she invented it. Truth be told, Grandma was probably just as stressed as you are right now, thinking, "I should be baking cookies instead of reading blogs."

OK. Maybe not.

But I am convinced that Grandma did not get run over by a reindeer. Grandma jumped.

Instead of pretending to be perfect, maybe we should just come clean with our own daughters. Maybe we should tell them that we really wish we could be blogging instead of baking cookies. Just for a little while. Just for a mental break. Maybe they should see us eat the cookie dough straight from the bowl. And then from the spoon, too.

They'll see us as imperfect, but trying our best. Isn't that what we want them to see? It won't matter to them that we didn't evenly distribute the sprinkles on the cookies. What matters is that we have sprinkles. (Wow! Was that profound or what?)

So when you start to stress this Christmas, let your daughter see you twitch a little. Let her see that Mom isn't perfect- just a little. One day, in Christmas Future, your daughter will burn the rolls and break an heirloom ornament. Then she'll look back and remember how well you handled not being perfect. Or not. Either way, she will know that it is perfectly fine not to be perfect.

She'll thank you for it. You taught her a valuable lesson.

And you saved her thousands in therapy.

Prayer Request

Please pray for sweet baby Olivia.

She is two months old and very ill. For more info, visit Big Mama's.

Thank you, Internets.

Pickin' and Grinnin'

Well, I am still here. In body, if not in mind.

I am in need of some time in the stable, but other than that, I could be considered sane. At least, legally.

The last few days have been crazy. The weekend was a cold and rainy blur. Daughter had dress rehearsal for the church music program, a birthday party, Christmas shopping with Daddy, and the music program itself Sunday night.

During the dress rehearsal, one of the little girls (who, by the way, just so happens to be in my Sunday School class) decided that she was going to add her own moves to the music number. While every other child was singing and doing the motions, Katie decided to pick her nose.

The music director yelled out, "Katie! Don't pick your nose on stage!"

Katie stopped and joined in with the rest of the kids, not missing a single beat.

Sunday night, during the real, live performance, Katie was singing her sweet little heart out right there on the front row when she paused and ducked behind her friend.

To pick her nose.

I laughed right there in the pew. When I looked back at Katie's parents, I saw Katie's dad shrinking in his seat, shaking his head.

Don't worry dad. At least she was discreet about it.

So, where's my halo?

Honey, it says I'm an Angel. See? Really, it did! :>)

You Are an Angel

A truly giving soul, you understand the spirit of Christmas.

What Christmas Ornament Are You?

A Meme

Reynie over at God, do you hear this Southern Girl Rambling? tagged me for a meme over a week ago. She has been so patient. Thanks, Reynie!

The rules are that I should share 5 things about me, leave a link to the one who tagged me, and then tag others to play along.

I have been blogging for over a year, so it is really hard for me to think of some things you don't already know. Well, things that I would tell you. (wink wink)

1. I am a Super Model. No, wait. That's another meme...

I have a strange ability to remember TV channels. I sort of categorize them in my head. I also do this with calendars.

Weird.

2. I do not like gadgets.

3. When I was in college, my plan was to open a shelter for abused and needy children.

4. I can make fried green tomatoes, but I am not good at frying chicken.

5. I always liked Scarlett better than Melanie. ;>)

Since it is Christmas and everyone is busy, I am not going to tag anyone. If you want to play along, just leave a note in the comments.

Have fun!

Perhaps you have Yuletide-Imperfectionaphobia

"Charlie Brown, you're the only person I know who can take a wonderful season like Christmas and turn it into a problem." Linus Van Pelt

Every woman I talk to lately is completely stressed out about Christmas. We all seem to be pulled in too many directions with too many cookies on our plates. I would guess that you are stressed out, too.

Like Charlie Brown, the commercialism really depresses me, but I am the one who allows myself to get stressed. Every year I know what lies ahead of me. The gift buying. The cooking. The decorating. The musicals. The (fill in the blank.) All of these things pile on top of what is already a full schedule of responsibilities.

For you ladies out there who work outside of the home and for you homeschoolers, I don't know how you do it. If you are on some special medication, please leave the name of it in the comments, please.

Seriously, it seems like the duties, if you will, of Christmas always fall on the women. Yet, we are the natural nurturers of the family. It is part of God's Plan.

So why is it so hard?

Where are we going wrong?

For me, I know that I take on too much. I have a hard time saying, "no." I have a hard time disappointing anyone besides myself. I also enjoy the decorating and the gift buying- to a point. It is when all of the other responsibilities get in the mix, that it becomes a chore.

Then I hear God's Whisper,"Slow down. Keep your eyes on Jesus."

I think to myself,"I know that God. This just adds to the guilt. I want to keep my focus on you, the true gift of the Christmas Season. I love you, Lord. But, I am overwhelmed."

For the last several weeks, I have been studying the Christmas story in its entirety, trying to put all of the pieces together and prepare for Sunday School lessons. God has shown me several truths and I would like to share one of them with you.

Many times we think of Mary in the stable when she gave birth to Jesus. We pause and think, "Poor Mary. There was no room in the inn. She was forced to have her child, the Son of God, in a stable."

Well, you know what? That was God's Plan. God had prepared the way for Christ before His Birth. He must have prepared for the birth as well.

I am no scholar, but what I truly believe is that God wanted Mary and Joseph to be in the stable, alone with Jesus that night. If they had been in the inn, they would have been surrounded by people and noise and distraction. Instead, they were in a stable, in the quiet stillness of the night. They were alone with their child who was also their Savior. The Savior of the world. In the dark, lonely, dirty stable, surrounded by animals, Mary and Joseph were also surrounded by the Peace of God.

So I am adding one more thing to my list, and I am taking off a few others. I encourage you to do the same.

Each night until Christmas, even for five minutes, go to your quiet place, your "stable" and spend time alone with Jesus. Read your Bible or just spend time in prayer. Lock yourself in the bathroom if you have to. If you miss one night, don't feel guilty. Satan loves to take you on a guilt trip. Just wake up the next morning and ask God to help you stay focused on Him. He will provide the time when your heart is seeking Him. Your few minutes may be in the shower or the car on the way to work. No matter where your stable is, God will meet you there.

Look at your list of things to do. Is there anything you can take off? Are there any duties you can delegate? Any commitments you can let go of? I'll bet there is.

Remember, there was no room for them in the inn. There was no room for Him either. Take time in the quietness of the "stable" with Christ this Christmas.

Christmas doesn't have to be perfect. Christ, in all of His Glory, is all the perfection we need.

What I love about Christmas

Besides the obvious, Savior In A Manger, these are a few of my favorite things about Christmas-

1. I love being out shopping and seeing someone buy a bicycle. It makes me smile to imagine the surprise on that child's face Christmas morning.

2. The Salvation Army bell ringers. They are a reminder that there are good things being done for those in need. The sound of the bell reminds me to give, to love and to be thankful.

3. Bows. I love bows. I love making bows. I like wrapping presents. My favorite times are when I can sit in the living room floor at night and wrap gifts, making special bows for each one.

4. HGTV's White House Christmas. Some may see it as a waste, but I love that our nation's home is decorated beautifully and elegantly for all the world to see.

5. Charlie Brown Christmas. My second favorite Christmas movie/show. Sally's letter to Santa cracks me up.

6. Our tree. Every year I choose a night to sleep on the sofa in the living room. I leave the tree lights on and fall asleep looking at our tree. My husband has come to expect it. Mama even asks if I have slept "under the tree" yet.

7. The Nutcracker. I missed it this year, but we usually try to go. LOVE it! Ballet and orchestra mixed in with Christmas. Wonderful.

8. Seeing children start to get excited about Santa. You can see it in their eyes. Just sweet.

9. Birthday cake for Jesus. We make or sometimes buy a small cake and put candles on it. We sing Happy Birthday to Jesus on Christmas Day.

What about you? What do you love?

I'm guessing Martha never did that.

Last night, I was working on the lights and watching Wheel of Fortune because I feel that one should increase her vocabulary Vegas style while screaming at the Tannenbaum.

The Christmas spirit. I'm feelin' it.

You see, I ran out of lights a few days ago because three hundred of them didn't work. I spent at least three bucks on them. You'd think they would have lasted longer than oh, five years. Go figure.

In a last minute stop to the Big K before car line, I was feeling a little like Martha Stewart. I grabbed two boxes of lights and a few others items and rushed off to car line.

When I opened them up last night to put them on the tree I realized they had white cords. Oh, the disappointment. But I decided to make them work and twisted and turned them on the VERY GREEN tree. And, you know what? The CIA could not have hidden the cords any better.

Just as Pat Sajak was reminding a contestant to use her free spin, the doorbell rang. I was in the middle of cheap electrical wiring and I asked Hubs to answer the door.

It was my next door neighbor. She delivered the fudge that the woman in labor had made for the cookie swap. This woman was in the middle of making fudge, went into labor with her third child, dropped off her other kids at a friends' house, delivered her baby three hours later, then managed to distribute the fudge to all of us two days later.

SHE deserves a badge!

Somebody needs a nap. Or a valium.

1. Remember this kitty? Well, as it turns out "it" is a girl and the neighbors have confirmed my suspicion that she is well-cared for and not homeless. Still, she insists on sleeping on our porch at times.

Daughter has named her, "Pilgrim." The other night Pilgrim was lounging on the wicker and daughter peeked through the window to say,"Good night, Pilgrim."

2. We have hired Mr. Edwards to humanely catch and release the beavers. Over the weekend, we snared us a critter.

The next door neighbor called us to share the news. We all gathered 'round with the kids early in the morning and watched the beaver sit on the bank and await his fate. (Don't worry. He was fine.)

It was riveting.

The beaver sat there, really still, with his back to us all and thought to himself, "I hope I don't end up on someone's blog."

3. Maggie has lost her ever lovin' mind. I found her on the kitchen counter! EWWW! I draw the line at counters and tables. I honestly think she is headed for the Paris trip at any moment.

4. I went on a field trip today with my daughter's class and if I had been heavily medicated, it may have been mildly entertaining. But since I was not, it was, to say the least, a fiasco.

The person giving the chemistry demo kept confusing an acid with a base. A few of us kept looking at each other like, "Um. Is somebody going to say something?" Daughter's teacher is very diplomatic and reserved, unlike myself, so she didn't say anything. I suspect she will go over the material with the class later.

Eventually, somebody did say something. Guess who that was.

Yep. Me.

But in a nice way, I promise.

5. Later, we had a picnic lunch and my daughter's friend found the one spot in the entire park where the largest dog known to man went poo. Then somebody ended up helping her dig it all out with a stick.

Yep. Me.

I had to. She was so sad about her shoe. Bless her heart.

6. I later went to the grocery store and, no kidding, the bagger was so slow that there was actual moss growing on his little vest.

And I am very patient, people. Really. I used to work in retail. But with the acid and the base and all the dog poo, I had reached my limit for the day.

7. On the bright side, the little lights are finally twinkling.

;>)

Cookies and Internet Goodness

I am sitting here listening to Big Mama and BooMama's Big Boo Cast and eating cookies from the cookie swap. The TV is on mute so that I can pay close attention to two of my favorite bloggers.

Hubs just came downstairs and said,"What are you doing? Watching TV and watching something on the computer?"

"Nope. I'm not watching TV. You can turn the channel."

"What are you watching on the computer?"

"I'm listening."

"To what?"

"Big Mama and BooMama."

"Who?"

"Big Mama and BooMama."

"So, who are they? Two talk show hosts?"

"No. Two bloggers."

"Ummm. 'kay."

(You bloggers out there are laughing out loud. You know you are!)

Back to the cookies...

I went to the cookie swap this afternoon. My neighbor invited me and, as it turns out, I knew half of the eight ladies invited. It's a small world. We were supposed to have a total of nine ladies, but one couldn't make it. She had some lame excuse that involved, oh, I don't know, labor of her third child.

Sheesh. People will do anything to get out of the kitchen!

So now I have 8 dozen cookies. Eight different kinds of cookies. Let me tell you that we do not need 8 dozen cookies in our house.

That would be 8 dozen.

In case you missed it.

My husband will not eat foreign baked goods. He would eat lead-based paint from China before he would eat the baked goods of a stranger. He is my Howard Hughes.

My daughter would eat all of the cookies, given the chance. Sadly, so would I, so I have decided to keep my neighbor's cookies and share the rest with the local fire station. All the cookies are so nicely packaged and delicious as well.

Well, maybe I'll hold on to the peanut butter cup cookies. Sorry, Mr. Fireman.

Comment of the Week #10

This week I give Jennifer the um, not-so-distinguished award of Comment of The Week for the following comment on the Camping Trip.



"My Girl scout experience happened when I was 7. I stepped into an ant pile and had bites up to my knees. I also got sick from the marshmallows. Nevermind that I had eaten about 14 of them. And I stepped in deer-doo-doo. After my scarring experience, I decided girl scouts was not the place for me and haven't camped ever since. But, I should have gotten an ant bite, barfing and doo-doo badge for all that I endured. Just to show I was a survivor."



Girl, if I knew of any such badge, I would send you one. Yes, M'am.