I had the unique experience of having marble-sized hail begin to pound my car in sunny, 86 degree weather a few weeks ago. At first I was very confused, and so was the guy in the open convertible next to me. Incredible.
Me: Thanks for going to the grocery store with me, Joel.
Joel: Sure, I'll always take care of you, Momma.
Pause while I smile and he thinks...
Joel: Nah! I'm to little to take care of you!
Chuckles and Giggles :)
Me: You take care of my heart by loving me and being you, Joel!
Joel with a note of awe: I do love you, don't I!
The most encouraging experiences when running with my new jogging stroller are the dropped jaws in passing cars. That and "Momma, run faster! Daddy runs faster! Momma, don't stop! Daddy runs longer!" John and I are both training for different marathons and today I think we're crazy.
So, I'm finally reading True Faced and really like it. I had lunch recently with one of the authors and learned that there is a connection between The Shack and True Faced. So... if you liked one, you should read the other. ;)
I hate saying goodbye to friends moving away. It is really horrible. Most of my friends have moved to other states in the last few years and now I'm in a stage of life when it's difficult to make new friends due to time limitations imposed by children. That, and other friends talk often about their travels to visit other friends... that's hard because our travel budget is non-existent. Even when it is existent in small amounts, we have family out-of-state too.
I became an aunt again this week! John's sister and brother-in-law gave birth to Nolan, and I think he is beautiful!
I hate medical professionals who don't listen well and talk down to me. Um, hello! I'm not the child here, my son is. Look at me, listen, and then respond in a normal voice and vocabulary please. I respect your knowledge in your field, please respect my equal intelligence.
Enough "Shards" for tonight. Thanks for taking the time for my brain-pickings!
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
2 Minutes in My Day
Crap, I forgot to move the sprinkler and now I've watered the street as well as my yard! It is freakin irritating when someone spits their gum on the ground. I bet the kind of person who does that is also the kind of person who would get REALLY mad when they step in it too. They're too stupid to even realize the conflict there. "Joel, please don't hit Micah with your drum stick." Dang, I've been meaning to clean up that smear of toothpaste in the hall for over a month. Oh, well. We're late. No time now. Where are my keys. "Micah, don't eat off the floor. Here is your milk. Yuck, that was last night's dinner! Yes, Joel. I'm sorry I called it a drum stick. It's a magic wand today." I COULD NOT handle another baby! Where are my keys? Ah, not my keys, but almost as important... my phone is ringing somewhere. Of course my phone is in the bathroom. Where else can I talk without obnoxious background noise. That's kind of funny if you think about it, but don't think about it. "Hello, this is Christy. (pause) Yes I did receive your application. Your spouse needs to apply before you can move to the next step of the process. Did you receive my email explaining everything? Okay, I'll call you within 48 hours of both applications submitted then. Have a good day." I don't have time for unnecessary questions mister. Breathe. It's too quiet in the house... "Joel, DO NOT take your shoes off. We are leaving. Now! Where is Micah? Micah, No no no no no. Climbing in the shelves is dangerous, sweetheart. Everybody ready? Check keys, purse, phone, diaper and wipe stash, distraction toys, fully clothed children with shoes still on. Go. Out the door. Now! Go, go, go, go, go! Yes, happy feet! I love you guys!" I think I want to have another baby. Keys! Where are my keys? Right in the middle of the kitchen counter. How did I miss them before? Hey, who wants to sing the ABC's in underwater accent?!
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Things I Love
Not listed in a particular order...
Things I Love:
1) The smell of oak trees, especially after rain
2) Baby feet
3) Newborn baby smell
4) Potato soup & rare steak
5) Pretty tableware
6) A good book, usually fiction
7) Old hymnals & music books
8) Hard flooring
9) The sun on my face
10) Rosemary, Lavendar, & Peppermint (not together)
Things I love to do:
1) Swim
2) Sing
3) Camp
4) Read
5) Run
6) Create
7) Play with my boys
8) Sleep
9) Visit
10) Finish
Things I Want :) HaHa & Hint Hint
Jogging stroller
New clothes
Clean bathroom
Minivan - never thought I'd say that
A heart-rate monitor
Babysitting
More time in the day
Patience :) I'm taking a lesson right now. I'll tell you about it when it's over.
Things I Love:
1) The smell of oak trees, especially after rain
2) Baby feet
3) Newborn baby smell
4) Potato soup & rare steak
5) Pretty tableware
6) A good book, usually fiction
7) Old hymnals & music books
8) Hard flooring
9) The sun on my face
10) Rosemary, Lavendar, & Peppermint (not together)
Things I love to do:
1) Swim
2) Sing
3) Camp
4) Read
5) Run
6) Create
7) Play with my boys
8) Sleep
9) Visit
10) Finish
Things I Want :) HaHa & Hint Hint
Jogging stroller
New clothes
Clean bathroom
Minivan - never thought I'd say that
A heart-rate monitor
Babysitting
More time in the day
Patience :) I'm taking a lesson right now. I'll tell you about it when it's over.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
At Once Complicated, Beautiful, and Ugly
The Sunday prior to the 4th of July, I had to work at a church other than the one I usually attend these days. As I was working, I did not get to hear all of any service, but a very dear friend was preaching. I did hear part of the worship and I was more than bothered at the strong patriotism in the songs and in the prayers. When asked by a colleague why I was so bothered, I could not put my finger on or clearly articulate my thoughts.
Fast forward to the evening of the 4th of July.
My family, immediate and extended, attended the D-Back's game together. We had a great time. It was Joel's first time at the ballpark and his first fireworks show. He was mesmerized by both. As I held him in my lap and enjoyed the patriotic music playing, I realized that many of the songs had been played in that church the previous week and like a light bulb I realized why I had been so bothered. Webster defines patriotism with few words, "love for or devotion to one's country." With that definition in mind, patriotic songs are in essence worship music for a country. In church, the only entity to be worshiped is God.
I believe that it is very appropriate to thank God for the blessings we live in, and I enjoy patriotic music. The USA has done some pretty wonderful things. We stood up for different oppressed peoples in many various countries and wars, sustaining compassionate humanitarian organizations global and local, welcoming refugees into our communities. We have managed to protect the freedoms cherished by our Founding Fathers, many of whom were not Christians, contrary to popular belief. We've also done some pretty awful things. We allowed the KKK to practice their bigotry, taking the law into their own hands. We have mistakenly and intentionally bombed civilians when at war. We have violated the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, and allowed Minute Men to take the law into their own hands. We have mistreated POWs and refused aid to countries experiencing genocide. It would be unreasonable to think we could help everyone, or always act perfectly right. It's just nice to have a balanced view of our country's history and current circumstance. Like a person, it's complicated, beautiful, and ugly all at the same time. God, on the other hand, IS perfect and worthy of worship.
I do not want to live any where other than the USA. I would call myself patriotic, just not during church. I support out troops, prayerfully and financially, because they are living a sacrificial lifestyle for my benefit and the benefit of others (by financially, I mean in addition to required taxes). I respect the men and women of the military and are thankful for their sacrifices. I think that I oppose the war in Iraq even though I do not fully understand all the politics and media surrounding it.
Over and over again, I hear the words, "God bless America," and "America has turned her back on God, prohibiting prayer in school, removing scriptures or phrases from national icons, condoning homosexual lifestyles and teenage pregnancy, Hollywood." If this country was founded on Christian principles, the way many so passionately claim, then we should be praying for our enemy. "God bless Iraq." I guess that prayer was not allowed in school when I was a kid, but prayer is a matter of my heart and God's spirit, not something at all governed by others, ever. Prayer is only disallowed in school if you choose to stop your heart.
I sense that I am beginning to ramble on tangents. My purpose in writing tonight is to make the point that Independence Day is a political holiday, not a religious holiday. Patriotism in church reveals our arrogance as a nation, implies a lesser claim on Christ's love by Christians in other countries, and weakens the spiritual encounter at hand like a golden calf. It is one thing to be thankful to God for our political circumstance, but quite another to blatantly worship a political institution in God's own house.
Fast forward to the evening of the 4th of July.
My family, immediate and extended, attended the D-Back's game together. We had a great time. It was Joel's first time at the ballpark and his first fireworks show. He was mesmerized by both. As I held him in my lap and enjoyed the patriotic music playing, I realized that many of the songs had been played in that church the previous week and like a light bulb I realized why I had been so bothered. Webster defines patriotism with few words, "love for or devotion to one's country." With that definition in mind, patriotic songs are in essence worship music for a country. In church, the only entity to be worshiped is God.
I believe that it is very appropriate to thank God for the blessings we live in, and I enjoy patriotic music. The USA has done some pretty wonderful things. We stood up for different oppressed peoples in many various countries and wars, sustaining compassionate humanitarian organizations global and local, welcoming refugees into our communities. We have managed to protect the freedoms cherished by our Founding Fathers, many of whom were not Christians, contrary to popular belief. We've also done some pretty awful things. We allowed the KKK to practice their bigotry, taking the law into their own hands. We have mistakenly and intentionally bombed civilians when at war. We have violated the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, and allowed Minute Men to take the law into their own hands. We have mistreated POWs and refused aid to countries experiencing genocide. It would be unreasonable to think we could help everyone, or always act perfectly right. It's just nice to have a balanced view of our country's history and current circumstance. Like a person, it's complicated, beautiful, and ugly all at the same time. God, on the other hand, IS perfect and worthy of worship.
I do not want to live any where other than the USA. I would call myself patriotic, just not during church. I support out troops, prayerfully and financially, because they are living a sacrificial lifestyle for my benefit and the benefit of others (by financially, I mean in addition to required taxes). I respect the men and women of the military and are thankful for their sacrifices. I think that I oppose the war in Iraq even though I do not fully understand all the politics and media surrounding it.
Over and over again, I hear the words, "God bless America," and "America has turned her back on God, prohibiting prayer in school, removing scriptures or phrases from national icons, condoning homosexual lifestyles and teenage pregnancy, Hollywood." If this country was founded on Christian principles, the way many so passionately claim, then we should be praying for our enemy. "God bless Iraq." I guess that prayer was not allowed in school when I was a kid, but prayer is a matter of my heart and God's spirit, not something at all governed by others, ever. Prayer is only disallowed in school if you choose to stop your heart.
I sense that I am beginning to ramble on tangents. My purpose in writing tonight is to make the point that Independence Day is a political holiday, not a religious holiday. Patriotism in church reveals our arrogance as a nation, implies a lesser claim on Christ's love by Christians in other countries, and weakens the spiritual encounter at hand like a golden calf. It is one thing to be thankful to God for our political circumstance, but quite another to blatantly worship a political institution in God's own house.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Book Recommendation
I recently read The Shack, by William Young.
I strongly recommend, but not for the weak-hearted. If you begin and question the recommendation, just press on and finish.
That is all I'm going to say.
It's not long. Just go read it yourself.
I strongly recommend, but not for the weak-hearted. If you begin and question the recommendation, just press on and finish.
That is all I'm going to say.
It's not long. Just go read it yourself.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Beyond Disgusting
This is so gross that I debated whether or not to even share with you. If you are sensitive to disgusting stories at all, then please stop now. I will not be responsible for your vomiting...
Micah had the runs today. He pooped during dinner. I was in the other room and heard it. John wasn't home. When I went to pick him up less than a minute after the last sound, I noticed that his diaper had leaked, but not out the side and bottom like a normal diaper. No, his was spilling up and out the top and side and it was puddling in his chair. What I did NOT notice was him grab a fist full of his poopy waistline. I didn't notice until he smeared his diarrhea on my face!!!
In my three short years of motherhood, I have been pooped, peed and spit on. They have burped and spit up right into my mouth. I have dealt with mud and blood and messy meals. Or snacks that shouldn't have been snacks; like the time that Micah ate a cricket. Flooded toilets, clogged drains, and unidentifiable moldy things. I thought a month-old sippy cup of milk was bad. NOTHING compares to diarrhea on your face. Oh, the stench...! Gag me with a sewer brush! I am unashamed by this blatant plea for sympathy. I will accept flowers or contributions toward the cost of a facial.
Micah had the runs today. He pooped during dinner. I was in the other room and heard it. John wasn't home. When I went to pick him up less than a minute after the last sound, I noticed that his diaper had leaked, but not out the side and bottom like a normal diaper. No, his was spilling up and out the top and side and it was puddling in his chair. What I did NOT notice was him grab a fist full of his poopy waistline. I didn't notice until he smeared his diarrhea on my face!!!
In my three short years of motherhood, I have been pooped, peed and spit on. They have burped and spit up right into my mouth. I have dealt with mud and blood and messy meals. Or snacks that shouldn't have been snacks; like the time that Micah ate a cricket. Flooded toilets, clogged drains, and unidentifiable moldy things. I thought a month-old sippy cup of milk was bad. NOTHING compares to diarrhea on your face. Oh, the stench...! Gag me with a sewer brush! I am unashamed by this blatant plea for sympathy. I will accept flowers or contributions toward the cost of a facial.
Expounding on a Few Slivers
A few asked for more thoughts on some of the "Slivers" posted a few weeks back. I have decided to accommodate.
I recently discovered a new author I really enjoy, Jodi Picoult. I have read several of her books and would recommend any of them, but in this post I will focus on "My Sister's Keeper". (It bothers me that I can't figure out how to underline the title.)
The primary question raised by Picoult in "My Sister's Keeper" is the ethical status research. She places the debate into the minds and hearts of child characters, two sisters. Do the benefits of stem cell research outweigh the downsides, or the other way around? Without giving too much away, I can tell you that one sister was conceived invitro for the specific purpose of donating cord blood to her perfectly genetically matched sister who suffers leukemia. What is the unpredictable fallout from such a situation? If good ethics support justice, how can justice possibly be served for both sisters?
I am, admittedly, uninformed on the stem cell research debate. My initial reaction is that it errors too close to playing God, whatever that means and as if that is possible. I understand that the benefits of research in this field are noble in that every advancement relieves pain and suffering. I do not believe that I give to much away by saying that Picoult leaves the debate open, a wise choice that does not alienate either party. Her book simply raises many questions and creates empathy in the reader for both sides. Her characters are well rounded, full of love, hate, self serving habits, history, and conflict.
A tangent thought as I read this book through the lens of my own parenting experience was how difficult it is to watch our children suffer. The parent of a cancer child suffers unimaginable pain vicariously through every needle, pill, test or procedure. My experiences with Micah have been minuscule compared to what is described in this book. And yet our heavenly father watches us suffer, and suffers with us, without numbing our nerves to the pain. He desires that we feel no pain, yet he loves when we draw near to him through it.
Now I will quickly change the subject to something more light-hearted. Out little flood in the house a few months back provoked a domino line of home projects. One of those involved moving Micah into a twin bed and creating a bedroom for the boys to share. I still have some work to do in this room because I think the walls are too stark white, but here are the pictures. I'm sewing pillows that look like rocks to put on the ground around the tree. I'm also looking for a "tree stump" stool / chair. I'm open to any creative suggestions in the jungle theme. I built a tree in my house and I'm very proud. The pictures don't show the dimension very well... it's not really that dinky... and now I'm sounding insecure despite my claim of pride. Oh, well.
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