Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
A Frump Family Weekend
This weekend we had absolutely nothing on the agenda.
And as busy as we've been lately, I was grateful for the reprieve.
After Jericho's minimum day at school Friday, I decided we needed to clean his bedroom.
It was one of those ginormous jobs that required motherly intervention because it had gotten so far out of hand (and only just since Christmas, mind you!).
His room was...trashed.
Literally. We took out 3 kitchen garbage bags full of trash and other useless junk, because I was ruthless and threw out anything missing parts and pieces or clothes deemed unsuitable to wear anymore.
You know what I'm talking about...broken toys, puzzles with missing pieces, action figure legs not attached to bodies, totally lame Happy Meal 'toys', action figure bodies with missing limbs, packaging left over from Christmas presents opened at our house from everyone who was over Christmas day (which had ended up in his room that day in the hustle and bustle, and for unknown reasons got shoved into his toy tubs and under his bed instead of put in the trash bin), torn, holey clothing, and garbage from last year's school backpack which had somehow gotten overlooked all this time (becauseJericho someone had zipped it inside a giant suitcase which is stored in the back side of his closet rather than take care of it when I asked him to last June). **draws in a big breath of air after blogdom's longest ever run-on sentence**
We didn't finish this delightful task until late that evening.
What. An. Ordeal.
Sorting through the rubble of folded clothing that never made it to his drawers, emptied out tubs of Legos, action figures, matchbox cars and three bags worth of assorted junk is always such a blast.
Afterwards, exhausted, we all retired for the night.
The next morning I walk past his room to see this:
Auuugh! Already messed up. Again!
Meanwhile, little brother's room remains virtually immaculate in comparison. Though he scatters a few things around the floor in there and the living room floor during a typical day, he is generally known to be pretty orderly.
He even cleans up after himself at lunch by putting his spoon in the sink, and his yogurt container in the garbage, and has been known to pick up stray dog food and other stuff that didn't quite make it into the trashcan (like plastic milk jug rings) and throw them in the garbage under our kitchen sink.
It's so good to know at least some of my genes passed on to that kid.
This was how I found his toys yesterday, lined up neatly on the couch.
Looks like we've got a classic case of Felix and Oscar living under our roof.
And Oscar has the audacity to try and blame Felix for messing up his room whenever Felixyanks the baby gate off the door jamb visits it?!
If anything, Felix leaves it neater than he found it!
:: :: :: ::
So early Saturday afternoon, after spending a semi-quiet and luxurious morning of uninterrupted blog and book reading in my pajamas and slippers, the sun came out between downpours.
The kids were getting antsy, and my husband was feeling a little cooped up due to all the rain.
So I sacrificially dragged my carcass to the shower, got ready, and we loaded in the car.
Destination: Fish Hatchery.
We've been meaning to go there for ages so that little Judah could see the "fitheeth" he likes so well.
Because I can't seem to keep a goldfish alive more than a couple of weeks, this is what we do instead. Our surrogate pets, if you will. The big plus being that I'm not responsible for cleaning out the fish tank.
As Jericho has gotten older, our trips to the fish hatchery have become more about taking on the challenge of filling cups with fish food from the gumball machine fish food dispenser there, than actually feeding the fish.
Which in itself is fun, because just your shadow passing over their retaining ponds is enough to bring them schooling around waiting for handouts.
Sprinkling a handful of the pea-sized pellets across the water creates a real splash. A miniature feeding frenzy. That stuff is like chum to sharks.
Judah thoroughly enjoyed every aspect of the trip.
Getting back to that fish food dispenser, that thing has been 'broken' for years. Jericho discovered a long time ago that if you jiggle the knob just so after you put your quarter in, you can fill an entire cup instead of getting a mere handful like you would in a normal gumball machine.
Jericho was able to fill two whole cups for a mere quarter.
.jpg)
It was a proud moment. This is the equivalent to his victory dance.
Unfortunately, Judah didn't get the whole concept of sprinkling food out of the cup, and tossed the entire thing it in the murky depths of one of the fish tanks.
As we were getting ready to leave, Judah spotted the "twacktoe", and wasn't very happy about the fact that rides were not included in this excursion.
There is still such a thing as a free lunch! For 25 cents, this made for a pretty inexpensive and enjoyable outing with the fam.
I was hopeful that after circling the fish tanks, looking for the big ones, and walking the length of that place for a couple of hours, Judah would be worn down enough for a nap when we got home.
I was wanting to get back to working on a story that's been rattling around in my brain for a while now (since, for some unknown reason, my creative juices seem to flow best when I'm running on fumes as far as sleep is concerned, and I have to 'make hay while the sun shines' or risk losing ever getting them written down).
No such luck.
Here he is in a get-up he managed to throw together with things he grabbed from the seat and floor in our car on the way to getting strapped into his car seat, wired as can be.
The pink glasses are an especially nice touch to this ensemble.
But that's okay...this one is so going to be used for blackmail when he's a teenager.
:: :: :: ::
So Sunday evening, our church was scheduled to have a Men's Bake-Off in lieu of our usual evening service.
Here are the baked goods.
Here are the men who just entered their baked goods in the contest.
When we arrived at the church, we found that due to abnormally heavy rains, a flash flood near our church had created a small river, which was threatening to enter a couple of our classrooms on the back section of our church property and wash out our parking lot.
After rounding up a few shovels, and using what we had on hand at the church (black plastic garbage bags), a group of guys from our church and our Hispanic congregation banded together to fill and arrange our 'sandbags' along that side of the property, and create a little rise to divert the river that had broken through the dirt berm we'd had in place before.
In a little more than one hour, this group completed a task which would have cost a small fortune if the classrooms had flooded and we'd had to hire a contractor with a tractor to fix the berm with the inflated prices they always charge after such storms.
I was so impressed that without even needing to be asked, our older son Jericho got down in the muck and cold water with the rest of them, and worked like a farm animal (which was a tremendous sacrifice on his part, considering he happened to be wearing his brand new Vans, lol!) and kept pace with them all.
I was so proud of him and my husband, whose brainchild it was to get the black plastic garbage bags for use as makeshift sandbags. It did the trick.
Later, when their work was successfully completed and they all came streaming in soaking wet for hot coffee and desserts, they wore the cheerful faces of a bunch of guys satisfied with a job well done. While I've never seen such a thing, I'm sure their camaraderie could only be likened to a bunch of guys just finished with an Amish barn-raising...appetites included!
One old guy known for baking the best chocolate cakes in our church won the contest, but in my book, they were all winners...though I still think my husband's homemade oatmeal macadamia nut cookies should have taken the cake.
Jericho came in dripping wet and muddy, his cheeks ruddy, his hands cold, and after flopping down on the chair beside me, picked up my semi-hot coffee, downed it, and announced, "I'm starving. I feel like eating a big steak!"
In his mind, I do believe he thinks he's a man now, and that this was one of his rites of passage. And he's well on his way.
Now, if we could only find a way to channel that same kind of satisfaction in a job well done into keeping his bedroom clean...
:: :: :: ::
When we got home this evening after running a few errands, and fording a few rivers, we pulled into our driveway and spotted this in the headlights on our garage door.
I'm not sure if you can see that very well, but those are garden worms.
Halfway up our garage door.
These are the same type of worms that are known for coming out on the sidewalks after the sprinklers are on in the mornings, or after a good rain...but never in my 10 years in this area have I seen them crawling on vertical surfaces before.
I suppose they were feeling a little 'sluggish' after the recent rains?
Okay, so yeah, that was a really lame.
Which is a shame, after such engaging, riveting news from my neck of the woods, er, I mean, desert.
Heh, heh. I'll stop now.
Good night.
And as busy as we've been lately, I was grateful for the reprieve.
After Jericho's minimum day at school Friday, I decided we needed to clean his bedroom.
It was one of those ginormous jobs that required motherly intervention because it had gotten so far out of hand (and only just since Christmas, mind you!).
His room was...trashed.
Literally. We took out 3 kitchen garbage bags full of trash and other useless junk, because I was ruthless and threw out anything missing parts and pieces or clothes deemed unsuitable to wear anymore.
You know what I'm talking about...broken toys, puzzles with missing pieces, action figure legs not attached to bodies, totally lame Happy Meal 'toys', action figure bodies with missing limbs, packaging left over from Christmas presents opened at our house from everyone who was over Christmas day (which had ended up in his room that day in the hustle and bustle, and for unknown reasons got shoved into his toy tubs and under his bed instead of put in the trash bin), torn, holey clothing, and garbage from last year's school backpack which had somehow gotten overlooked all this time (because
We didn't finish this delightful task until late that evening.
What. An. Ordeal.
Sorting through the rubble of folded clothing that never made it to his drawers, emptied out tubs of Legos, action figures, matchbox cars and three bags worth of assorted junk is always such a blast.
Afterwards, exhausted, we all retired for the night.
The next morning I walk past his room to see this:
Auuugh! Already messed up. Again!
Meanwhile, little brother's room remains virtually immaculate in comparison. Though he scatters a few things around the floor in there and the living room floor during a typical day, he is generally known to be pretty orderly.
He even cleans up after himself at lunch by putting his spoon in the sink, and his yogurt container in the garbage, and has been known to pick up stray dog food and other stuff that didn't quite make it into the trashcan (like plastic milk jug rings) and throw them in the garbage under our kitchen sink.
It's so good to know at least some of my genes passed on to that kid.
This was how I found his toys yesterday, lined up neatly on the couch.
Looks like we've got a classic case of Felix and Oscar living under our roof.
And Oscar has the audacity to try and blame Felix for messing up his room whenever Felix
If anything, Felix leaves it neater than he found it!
:: :: :: ::
So early Saturday afternoon, after spending a semi-quiet and luxurious morning of uninterrupted blog and book reading in my pajamas and slippers, the sun came out between downpours.
The kids were getting antsy, and my husband was feeling a little cooped up due to all the rain.
So I sacrificially dragged my carcass to the shower, got ready, and we loaded in the car.
Destination: Fish Hatchery.
We've been meaning to go there for ages so that little Judah could see the "fitheeth" he likes so well.
Because I can't seem to keep a goldfish alive more than a couple of weeks, this is what we do instead. Our surrogate pets, if you will. The big plus being that I'm not responsible for cleaning out the fish tank.
As Jericho has gotten older, our trips to the fish hatchery have become more about taking on the challenge of filling cups with fish food from the gumball machine fish food dispenser there, than actually feeding the fish.
Which in itself is fun, because just your shadow passing over their retaining ponds is enough to bring them schooling around waiting for handouts.
Sprinkling a handful of the pea-sized pellets across the water creates a real splash. A miniature feeding frenzy. That stuff is like chum to sharks.
Judah thoroughly enjoyed every aspect of the trip.
Getting back to that fish food dispenser, that thing has been 'broken' for years. Jericho discovered a long time ago that if you jiggle the knob just so after you put your quarter in, you can fill an entire cup instead of getting a mere handful like you would in a normal gumball machine.
Jericho was able to fill two whole cups for a mere quarter.
.jpg)
It was a proud moment. This is the equivalent to his victory dance.
Unfortunately, Judah didn't get the whole concept of sprinkling food out of the cup, and tossed the entire thing it in the murky depths of one of the fish tanks.
As we were getting ready to leave, Judah spotted the "twacktoe", and wasn't very happy about the fact that rides were not included in this excursion.
There is still such a thing as a free lunch! For 25 cents, this made for a pretty inexpensive and enjoyable outing with the fam.
I was hopeful that after circling the fish tanks, looking for the big ones, and walking the length of that place for a couple of hours, Judah would be worn down enough for a nap when we got home.
I was wanting to get back to working on a story that's been rattling around in my brain for a while now (since, for some unknown reason, my creative juices seem to flow best when I'm running on fumes as far as sleep is concerned, and I have to 'make hay while the sun shines' or risk losing ever getting them written down).
No such luck.
Here he is in a get-up he managed to throw together with things he grabbed from the seat and floor in our car on the way to getting strapped into his car seat, wired as can be.
The pink glasses are an especially nice touch to this ensemble.
But that's okay...this one is so going to be used for blackmail when he's a teenager.
:: :: :: ::
So Sunday evening, our church was scheduled to have a Men's Bake-Off in lieu of our usual evening service.
Here are the baked goods.
Here are the men who just entered their baked goods in the contest.
When we arrived at the church, we found that due to abnormally heavy rains, a flash flood near our church had created a small river, which was threatening to enter a couple of our classrooms on the back section of our church property and wash out our parking lot.
After rounding up a few shovels, and using what we had on hand at the church (black plastic garbage bags), a group of guys from our church and our Hispanic congregation banded together to fill and arrange our 'sandbags' along that side of the property, and create a little rise to divert the river that had broken through the dirt berm we'd had in place before.
In a little more than one hour, this group completed a task which would have cost a small fortune if the classrooms had flooded and we'd had to hire a contractor with a tractor to fix the berm with the inflated prices they always charge after such storms.
I was so impressed that without even needing to be asked, our older son Jericho got down in the muck and cold water with the rest of them, and worked like a farm animal (which was a tremendous sacrifice on his part, considering he happened to be wearing his brand new Vans, lol!) and kept pace with them all.
I was so proud of him and my husband, whose brainchild it was to get the black plastic garbage bags for use as makeshift sandbags. It did the trick.
Later, when their work was successfully completed and they all came streaming in soaking wet for hot coffee and desserts, they wore the cheerful faces of a bunch of guys satisfied with a job well done. While I've never seen such a thing, I'm sure their camaraderie could only be likened to a bunch of guys just finished with an Amish barn-raising...appetites included!
One old guy known for baking the best chocolate cakes in our church won the contest, but in my book, they were all winners...though I still think my husband's homemade oatmeal macadamia nut cookies should have taken the cake.
Jericho came in dripping wet and muddy, his cheeks ruddy, his hands cold, and after flopping down on the chair beside me, picked up my semi-hot coffee, downed it, and announced, "I'm starving. I feel like eating a big steak!"
In his mind, I do believe he thinks he's a man now, and that this was one of his rites of passage. And he's well on his way.
Now, if we could only find a way to channel that same kind of satisfaction in a job well done into keeping his bedroom clean...
:: :: :: ::
When we got home this evening after running a few errands, and fording a few rivers, we pulled into our driveway and spotted this in the headlights on our garage door.
I'm not sure if you can see that very well, but those are garden worms.
Halfway up our garage door.
These are the same type of worms that are known for coming out on the sidewalks after the sprinklers are on in the mornings, or after a good rain...but never in my 10 years in this area have I seen them crawling on vertical surfaces before.
I suppose they were feeling a little 'sluggish' after the recent rains?
Okay, so yeah, that was a really lame.
Which is a shame, after such engaging, riveting news from my neck of the woods, er, I mean, desert.
Heh, heh. I'll stop now.
Good night.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
More Brain Lint
I remember as a girl learning that some old folks could 'feel' that a rain was coming because of pains in their joints.
So the other day, my knuckles were aching, which was strange, because they never hurt.
At first I chalked it up to the scrapbooking/memory board project I'd been working on, and all the photo cropping and cutting I was doing.
Then a big storm system blew in with rain that turned to snow and back to rain.
And I remembered that the last time it rained, it rained so much that my kitchen floor was flooded on the side of our house that gets a little standing water...and my knuckles hurt like crazy.
Oy, I think I'm getting old.
:: :: :: ::
We were trying to decide where to go to dinner last evening, but couldn't agree on where.
Jeff: "Let's go to that Thai place I like."
Me: "They only ever have one car in the parking lot."
Jeff: "Well, they make good Beef Punang."
Me: "You sure that's beef?
pause
Me: "How about that great Ribs place that moved into the old McDonalds?"
Jeff: Shakes head in disagreement "No, ever since that one time we went there...
(the time where midway through our meal they had to temporarily turn off the water at the main because the job site next door was putting in their plumbing and had sprung a geyser of a leak. Not knowing this, my son and I went to the restrooms to wash barbeque sauce off our hands in the sinks, only to have nothing come out of the faucet. Well, except this really, gross pipe goop that resembled, um, well...snot. Which we couldn't wash off. And then we had to wonder how they were cooking and preparing food without any water back there.) ...I just can't get that out of my head.
Me: Hungry for ribs. "Look, I've got a weak stomach, and even I think I could handle going back. It was a freak, one-time deal, and they always get A reports from the health department."
Jeff: "It looked like someone had blown their nose on your hands! Like someone hawked a loogie in your hands!"
(Older son interjects sound effects)
Me: "Stop, already."**gagging**, covering ears now, "You've got a point. Forget I ever mentioned the place."
pause
Jeff: "Fast food?"
Me: "Too cardboard."
pause
Me: "How about that Ribs place by the district office? They had great food and good prices."
Jeff: "Naw. That's like eating dinner in the waiting room of some...doctor's office or something. It's so...sterile. Not what a ribs joint should look like inside."
Me: Conceding. "And no booths to trap Judah in."
Jeff: "The Diner?"
Me: "Steak and eggs for $6.75?"
Jeff: "They have booths"
Me: "Boys, get your coats on."
Ambiance is everything in a restaurant.
:: :: :: ::
We watched a cute movie tonight called, GamePlan. With "The Rock" as pro athlete Joe Kingman.
The premise of the movie was that a little girl shows up on her famous father's doorstep with luggage.
Joe didn't know that he was a father.
They're thrown together, forced to learn to adapt and get along, in spite of his famous, self-centered lifestyle, and him as her father learning to meet the needs of an 8 year old girl.
In true Parent Trap fashion, the daughter sabotages her father's date...with a modern twist. Let's just say that an expensive Italian suit doesn't look quite the same when your daughter has 'bedazzled' it, LOL!
And seeing "The Rock" perform a part in his daughter's ballet performance was a riot.
We actually found it to be an enjoyable movie for the whole family.
So the other day, my knuckles were aching, which was strange, because they never hurt.
At first I chalked it up to the scrapbooking/memory board project I'd been working on, and all the photo cropping and cutting I was doing.
Then a big storm system blew in with rain that turned to snow and back to rain.
And I remembered that the last time it rained, it rained so much that my kitchen floor was flooded on the side of our house that gets a little standing water...and my knuckles hurt like crazy.
Oy, I think I'm getting old.
:: :: :: ::
We were trying to decide where to go to dinner last evening, but couldn't agree on where.
Jeff: "Let's go to that Thai place I like."
Me: "They only ever have one car in the parking lot."
Jeff: "Well, they make good Beef Punang."
Me: "You sure that's beef?
pause
Me: "How about that great Ribs place that moved into the old McDonalds?"
Jeff: Shakes head in disagreement "No, ever since that one time we went there...
(the time where midway through our meal they had to temporarily turn off the water at the main because the job site next door was putting in their plumbing and had sprung a geyser of a leak. Not knowing this, my son and I went to the restrooms to wash barbeque sauce off our hands in the sinks, only to have nothing come out of the faucet. Well, except this really, gross pipe goop that resembled, um, well...snot. Which we couldn't wash off. And then we had to wonder how they were cooking and preparing food without any water back there.) ...I just can't get that out of my head.
Me: Hungry for ribs. "Look, I've got a weak stomach, and even I think I could handle going back. It was a freak, one-time deal, and they always get A reports from the health department."
Jeff: "It looked like someone had blown their nose on your hands! Like someone hawked a loogie in your hands!"
(Older son interjects sound effects)
Me: "Stop, already."**gagging**, covering ears now, "You've got a point. Forget I ever mentioned the place."
pause
Jeff: "Fast food?"
Me: "Too cardboard."
pause
Me: "How about that Ribs place by the district office? They had great food and good prices."
Jeff: "Naw. That's like eating dinner in the waiting room of some...doctor's office or something. It's so...sterile. Not what a ribs joint should look like inside."
Me: Conceding. "And no booths to trap Judah in."
Jeff: "The Diner?"
Me: "Steak and eggs for $6.75?"
Jeff: "They have booths"
Me: "Boys, get your coats on."
Ambiance is everything in a restaurant.
:: :: :: ::
We watched a cute movie tonight called, GamePlan. With "The Rock" as pro athlete Joe Kingman.
The premise of the movie was that a little girl shows up on her famous father's doorstep with luggage.
Joe didn't know that he was a father.
They're thrown together, forced to learn to adapt and get along, in spite of his famous, self-centered lifestyle, and him as her father learning to meet the needs of an 8 year old girl.
In true Parent Trap fashion, the daughter sabotages her father's date...with a modern twist. Let's just say that an expensive Italian suit doesn't look quite the same when your daughter has 'bedazzled' it, LOL!
And seeing "The Rock" perform a part in his daughter's ballet performance was a riot.
We actually found it to be an enjoyable movie for the whole family.
Monday, January 21, 2008
A Few Updates
So far, so good...looks like I've somehow escaped the clutches of the flu.
Lord willing we're done with sickness around here for a long, long time...that is as long as the cases of strep throat I just learned about don't make it around to our family.
We're gargling with hydrogen peroxide as a precaution.
:: :: :: ::
I mentioned in my last posting that a couple of my husband's former students were recently murdered.
I hesitate to give many details, because as a mommy blogger I intentionally try to keep things vague as a protective measure.
For several days after hearing the tragic news about the murders, we were gripped not only with shock that such a thing had happened in our community, but that it had happened to people that we knew...young people who still had their lives ahead of them...and in what seemed to be a tragic case of two young people being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
When I last posted, the killers had still not been caught, and we were praying fervently that they would be brought to justice quickly so they would never be able to commit such crimes again.
Meanwhile, our hearts and prayers go out to the victim's families as the details of the crimes will no doubt be very, very difficult for the parents to bear when the evidence is brought out in court.
It's every parents nightmare, having a child precede them in death. Add to this having to endure a criminal trial where gruesome facts must be brought to light as evidence...the facts about what happened to your child during their last hours of life.
I'm extraordinarily thankful to report that both the suspects are now in custody with some pretty convincing evidence against them. From what we've heard, they're looking at spending the rest of their lives in prison.
The sickening thing is that they were young, barely-out-of-high-school adults.
Yet in spite of the circumstances surrounding the crimes, my heart also goes out to the parents of the suspects.
I cannot fathom the heartache-the gamut of emotions-a person must feel when presented with the facts of a case...evidence which proves that their child had taken part in and committed such unspeakable crimes. That their children, who were once sweet little babes in arms whom they had doted on...had grown up and gone so....wrong.
Some are so quick to point fingers at the parents of young criminals, trying to link factors in their parenting that were responsible somehow for such a thing.
While I'm sure that abuse, neglect, racism and other such things could have contributed to patterns of criminal behavior in their children, I don't hold the parents responsible. Ultimately, their children are responsible for their own actions.
Just about everyone I know has had tremendous difficulties in their lives. Obstacles to overcome. Bad things that happened to them during their lifetimes...things that they could have allowed to consume them to such a degree, that under different circumstances, might have led to crimes. But their faith, their moral compass, prevented them from crossing that line. Obviously, these young people lacked that moral compass, the hate and evil in their hearts just spewing out, adversely affecting others, not just for a moment, but for life.
I'm so grateful that my faith in the Lord Jesus Christ has not only given me that moral compass, but Someone to cling to during difficult times in my life. I could not imagine my life without the constant presence of the Lord in it, and the comfort and peace that knowing Him has given me.
That is my prayer for all those closely related to this tragedy. Comfort and Peace in the midst of the storm.
:: :: :: ::
My life doesn't normally have this much drama in it. In fact, when my dad gives me a once a month call, I'm usually forced to admit that not too much has changed since the last time he called...and that we're still running along in the same, well-worn grooves.
I'm learning I should never complain about this kind of predicatability, but should instead be very thankful for it.
:: :: :: ::
Almost unbelievably, since my last posting, we've had yet another death in our church family. Our church is not large. In fact, there are only about 100 regular attenders on Sundays. This constitutes a large percentage of folks there, and has left some very noticable gaps in the pews.
Our dear friend Roberta, a faithful servant of the Lord, has finally succumbed to her third battle with cancer.
After making it through Christmas last year (and even singing in the Christmas Cantata) when her doctor's had not expected her to, our church body held a dinner in her honor at our church. It was a dinner meant to honor her life and her faithful service to the Lord.
Our intention was to be able to say those things to her in person that most people don't say until they are eulogizing at a funeral or memorial service. It was a huge success, and a real blessing to Roberta. These were a couple of pictures I took that evening.
As a church, we presented her with a thick Memory Book filled with pictures and letters and other mementos that let her know how much we loved her and appreciated her.
She was so delighted, and was thrilled to have such a tangible expression of our love to pore over as she spent a lot of time in and out of the hospital and confined to her bed since then.
Amazingly, she pulled through yet another Christmas that doctors never expected her to see. God in His great Mercy gave her more time in which to make precious memories with her family and friends.
During this third and final bout with cancer, Roberta's unbelieving husband came to trust Jesus as his Lord and Savior at long last. This was after many, many years of prayers on his behalf.
It was a glorious occasion, and one which Roberta was thrilled to have been around to see...and the changes in her husband were remarkable. And she couldn't have been happier, knowing that now all her immediate family would one day join her in Heaven. It sort of 'freed' her to be able to go on home.
And now, we are assured that she is not gone forever, but has simply gone on before us...gone onto her reward!
You fought the good fight, Roberta...Congratulations on your new home!
Lord willing we're done with sickness around here for a long, long time...that is as long as the cases of strep throat I just learned about don't make it around to our family.
We're gargling with hydrogen peroxide as a precaution.
:: :: :: ::
I mentioned in my last posting that a couple of my husband's former students were recently murdered.
I hesitate to give many details, because as a mommy blogger I intentionally try to keep things vague as a protective measure.
For several days after hearing the tragic news about the murders, we were gripped not only with shock that such a thing had happened in our community, but that it had happened to people that we knew...young people who still had their lives ahead of them...and in what seemed to be a tragic case of two young people being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
When I last posted, the killers had still not been caught, and we were praying fervently that they would be brought to justice quickly so they would never be able to commit such crimes again.
Meanwhile, our hearts and prayers go out to the victim's families as the details of the crimes will no doubt be very, very difficult for the parents to bear when the evidence is brought out in court.
It's every parents nightmare, having a child precede them in death. Add to this having to endure a criminal trial where gruesome facts must be brought to light as evidence...the facts about what happened to your child during their last hours of life.
I'm extraordinarily thankful to report that both the suspects are now in custody with some pretty convincing evidence against them. From what we've heard, they're looking at spending the rest of their lives in prison.
The sickening thing is that they were young, barely-out-of-high-school adults.
Yet in spite of the circumstances surrounding the crimes, my heart also goes out to the parents of the suspects.
I cannot fathom the heartache-the gamut of emotions-a person must feel when presented with the facts of a case...evidence which proves that their child had taken part in and committed such unspeakable crimes. That their children, who were once sweet little babes in arms whom they had doted on...had grown up and gone so....wrong.
Some are so quick to point fingers at the parents of young criminals, trying to link factors in their parenting that were responsible somehow for such a thing.
While I'm sure that abuse, neglect, racism and other such things could have contributed to patterns of criminal behavior in their children, I don't hold the parents responsible. Ultimately, their children are responsible for their own actions.
Just about everyone I know has had tremendous difficulties in their lives. Obstacles to overcome. Bad things that happened to them during their lifetimes...things that they could have allowed to consume them to such a degree, that under different circumstances, might have led to crimes. But their faith, their moral compass, prevented them from crossing that line. Obviously, these young people lacked that moral compass, the hate and evil in their hearts just spewing out, adversely affecting others, not just for a moment, but for life.
I'm so grateful that my faith in the Lord Jesus Christ has not only given me that moral compass, but Someone to cling to during difficult times in my life. I could not imagine my life without the constant presence of the Lord in it, and the comfort and peace that knowing Him has given me.
That is my prayer for all those closely related to this tragedy. Comfort and Peace in the midst of the storm.
:: :: :: ::
My life doesn't normally have this much drama in it. In fact, when my dad gives me a once a month call, I'm usually forced to admit that not too much has changed since the last time he called...and that we're still running along in the same, well-worn grooves.
I'm learning I should never complain about this kind of predicatability, but should instead be very thankful for it.
:: :: :: ::
Almost unbelievably, since my last posting, we've had yet another death in our church family. Our church is not large. In fact, there are only about 100 regular attenders on Sundays. This constitutes a large percentage of folks there, and has left some very noticable gaps in the pews.
Our dear friend Roberta, a faithful servant of the Lord, has finally succumbed to her third battle with cancer.
After making it through Christmas last year (and even singing in the Christmas Cantata) when her doctor's had not expected her to, our church body held a dinner in her honor at our church. It was a dinner meant to honor her life and her faithful service to the Lord.
Our intention was to be able to say those things to her in person that most people don't say until they are eulogizing at a funeral or memorial service. It was a huge success, and a real blessing to Roberta. These were a couple of pictures I took that evening.
As a church, we presented her with a thick Memory Book filled with pictures and letters and other mementos that let her know how much we loved her and appreciated her.
She was so delighted, and was thrilled to have such a tangible expression of our love to pore over as she spent a lot of time in and out of the hospital and confined to her bed since then.
Amazingly, she pulled through yet another Christmas that doctors never expected her to see. God in His great Mercy gave her more time in which to make precious memories with her family and friends.
During this third and final bout with cancer, Roberta's unbelieving husband came to trust Jesus as his Lord and Savior at long last. This was after many, many years of prayers on his behalf.
It was a glorious occasion, and one which Roberta was thrilled to have been around to see...and the changes in her husband were remarkable. And she couldn't have been happier, knowing that now all her immediate family would one day join her in Heaven. It sort of 'freed' her to be able to go on home.
And now, we are assured that she is not gone forever, but has simply gone on before us...gone onto her reward!
You fought the good fight, Roberta...Congratulations on your new home!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Nobody Knows The Trouble I've Seen...
Hopefully this posting isn't a total downer, as that is not my intention. It's just been an extraordinarily rough week and a half around here.
Which explains the gap in my otherwise fairly regular blogging schedule.
Here's a rundown:
1. Our toddler son got sick with the flu. In our bed (where else, I ask you?). That evening before bed, he didn't seem his usual self, and complained, "I feel icky". Call me crazy, but rather that not sleep at all worrying he'd puke in his own bed and choke on it while I slept soundly in my own room, I just brought him into our room to more closely monitor the situation.
Mind you, he's never been sick before (except with a case of the sniffles at about 6 months old), so I took this chance figuring that this, too, would be a false alarm. Not so.
He got really sick, which resulted in one of those lovely 2 am work parties, whereby not one, but two grumpy, sleep deprived parents were rousted from their 'slumber' and had to tag team getting our bed stripped of every last shred of bedding, toss it in the wash, all while getting Judah's clothes off of him, running a bath, cleaning the poor kid up, cleaning our mattress off, then getting the bed made up again, our boy dried off, dressed and tucked back in (this time on a stack of flannel receiving blankets as a precaution).
Of course, there was very little point in my even trying to sleep the rest of that night, so I read while Jeff opted to put up with the intermittent 'sleep'.
Judah, who did not know what on earth was happening to him while he continued to toss his cookies every 15 minutes or so ad nauseum (which I'm pretty sure was a latin phrase coined by some parent after just such a night), freaked out, and wanted to hang onto my arm (for moral support, I suppose) and only my arm. Though this kid regularly bypasses me in favor of daddy, nobody but mom would do when sick.
Finally, around 8:30 am, Judah's tummy finally calmed down and we got to sleep for a solid three hours.
We were rudely awakened later that morning by yet another episode of sickness. That was when Judah did something that nothing in all my days of babysitting, nannying and parenting over the last 2 1/2 decades had prepared me for. Judah, my sweet little cherub, was so grossed out by the taste left on his lips that he looked piteously at me and proceeded to spit 'raspberry' style (or zzerbert if you live in the Midwest)...all. over. my. face! Ewww! Lucky me.
Now ya'll already know I don't do puke well. Add to this that I'm a bit of a hypochondriac where germs are concerned. If I even hear of someone getting some illness, and they've breathed the same air I breathed, I'll worry. And fret. And think I'm coming down with it. And take Airborne. And lots and lots of vitamins and supplements. And scrub my hands (or in this case) my face until there could not possibly be a germ left.
I'm also known to routinely wipe down cart handles and door handles with disinfectant wipes, and to insist on each person with me washing hands with baby wipes in the car as a second line of defense. And don't even get me started on the notes sent home from school alerting parents that there have been cases of lice or scabies or some such thing reported at school.
As it turns out, while I did have the characteristic aches of a flu bug, as well as the roiling digestive upset, I never did actually get sick sick. I'm not sure which is worse though...worrying about it and feeling like you're coming down with it for several days, or just contracting it and getting it over and done with in a day or two. Ugh. Lot of good all that extra handwashing did me!
Little Judah, being a hardy kid, seemed to be on the upswing after 36 hours, so we all rallied and ventured out to the grocery store for some supplies. He asked daddy for a cookie from the bakery (where they give free cookies to the kiddos), and happy to see some interest in food again, daddy complied. Judah took a couple of bites as they were walking away, and while Jeff turned to look down each aisle for me, Judah proceeded to, um, toss his cookies (and I don't mean the one in his hand) all over Jeff's shirt and the grocery store floor. Lucky Jeff.
Meanwhile, I'm dashing through the store trying to make short work of shopping, because I'm feeling pretty yucky and achy myself and just wanted to get home to bed, when my mommy radar intercepts an incoming signal.
Or maybe it was just the intercom in the store, blaring "Immediate cleanup needed on aisle 8".
Though my kids have never puked in public before, somehow I just knew that call had something to do with our clan, and that was before our older son Jericho skidded to a stop at the end of the cereal aisle arms flailing, then came dashing breathlessly towards me to give me the lowdown, complete with a very descriptive re-enactment and to inform me that daddy had promptly taken little brother to the car.
We headed straight for the checkout. Where Jericho couldn't help but to keep looking at the scene of the accident on Aisle 8 (where they had cordoned it off with caution tape and cones until some poor soul was brave enough to clean it up).
By the time I got out to the car, poor Jeff was sitting there, green around the gills himself, and our poor little guy was already strapped in his carseat, half clothed and covered with a spare sweatshirt that was in the backseat, because apparently, our diaper bag was MIA. As in left behind at someone's house a couple of days earlier.
Which meant no baby-wipes with which to wash our hands. Hands which suddenly felt dirtier than usual. Oy.
To put it mildly, Jeff was not a happy camper, and we roared out of that parking the second the groceries were loaded in. He did manage to laugh a bit, telling me about the poor courtesy clerks expression when she witnessed the puke on the floor at Jeff's feet. She looked up at him with a horrified expression as though HE had been responsible, and Jeff had to clarify, "It was my son!" (Kind of like Jerry Seinfeld that time in the taxi when the beautiful woman saw him scratching his nose and thought he was picking it...). She obviously hadn't belived him, as the puke was on his shirt, lol.
But even just talking about this made me feel sicker than a dog, and just like a dog traveling by car, I had to keep my nose glued to the barely open window to provide sufficient ventilation to prevent any cases ofcontagious spontaneous puking from occuring in the passenger side of the car, while still preventing the cold wind outside from getting back to where our pitiful (albeit relatively chipper), if half-clothed toddler was covered only by the extra sweatshirt.
We were a sorry mess.
Late that night, Jeff came down with the flu.
The good news is that here a week later, we seem to be much better healthwise.
2. This past Saturday, we took our church youth group on a sledding trip to the mountains, only to get all the way there and find that nearly all the snow had melted. With the exception of a very small shaded patch on a school campus which some family friends that lived in the area helped us to find (thanks Dean & Amber!).
While on this sledding-trip-that-almost-didn't-happen, two of our teen girls decided to sneak off to the nearby town a couple of blocks away while we were setting out lunch for everyone. They were supposed to be sledding on the hill which was close to where we were, just up around a corner and out of sight.
As you can imagine, this caused great anxiety and concern for us, as the responsible parties, for nearly a half hour before they were finally located. These girls had never done such a thing before, and in fact, in all our years of working with the youth group, such a thing has never happened before.
Oy, did they hear it from my husband when they finally showed up! They're also banned from the next couple of outings and got it from their parents when they got to their respective homes that evening.
3. 20 gazillion loads of laundry (thanks to both the flu and the 'sledding' trip)
4. We've had 5 (that's not a typo...five) deaths in our community that have directly touched our lives in the last 10 days. Three of those being dear old folks that attended our church for many years, and the other two being a couple of young people in our community that were recently murdered. My husband had both of these young people as students in his classes at school over the years.
I managed to attend two of the memorial services, but that was pretty much all I could rally for. Though the two I attended were joyful homegoings for two dear, sweet women that I know are now in Heaven, and who were wonderful ladies that left beautiful legacies of faith and love, I now realize that a person is not emotionally equipped to attend more than one or two of these in a weeks time, especially after recent bouts with the flu, severe lack of sleep, and after pondering at length the senseless murders of two young people.
To say I've been feeling a little bit wrung out is a bit of an understatement.
In the odd hours that I was awake and coherent in between all of these events (and wasn't hauling our older son to and from school or had a toddler wanting me to hold him more than usual), I was just plain too weary to do much by way of blogging.
So I blew through my TBR (to be read) stack of books...the Mitford series by Jan Karon. Well, the first seven, anyway. I still have two to go, but I've decided to slow up a bit, as the books are worth savoring. Discussing with others. Mulling over.
I must say, that these were the perfect books to read under such circumstances. I was swept away to a sunny place, and actually laughed a number of times. Her characters are amazing, and you feel like you know (or would enjoy knowing) most of these people after reading the books. I also felt like some of the themes in that series were particularly apropo.
But of course, getting out to my Bible Study helped, too. For me there is nothing as reassuring as being reminded that God is still on His Throne to help put things in perspective.
Please don't think that I'm wallowing in grief. Amazingly, I'm not. There is something... comforting in knowing that the dear folks from our church were all longtime believers in Christ that have now gone on to their reward. From our perspective, there was a striking contrast between them, having lived long, full lives...and then two young people whose lives were prematurely and violently ended. It's more just feeling for their grieving parents, who never expected their children to precede them in death, and certainly not under such circumstances.
There is much more I'd like to say on this topic, but I'll have to save that for another time.
5. On a lighter note, Judah was just disciplined for not staying at the table with his food, and was crying way more than was warranted for the situation because he's overly tired.
Doing his homework in the kitchen, Jericho commented, "Man, Judah cries waaaay too much."
Hearing this, Judah stopped suddenly, mid cry and said, "Shub-up, Jay-co!"
He's not even 2 1/2 for pity's sake, and already we've moved into needing to settle sibling disputes? Oy. Maybe I'll go start that next Jan Karon book after all.
Which explains the gap in my otherwise fairly regular blogging schedule.
Here's a rundown:
1. Our toddler son got sick with the flu. In our bed (where else, I ask you?). That evening before bed, he didn't seem his usual self, and complained, "I feel icky". Call me crazy, but rather that not sleep at all worrying he'd puke in his own bed and choke on it while I slept soundly in my own room, I just brought him into our room to more closely monitor the situation.
Mind you, he's never been sick before (except with a case of the sniffles at about 6 months old), so I took this chance figuring that this, too, would be a false alarm. Not so.
He got really sick, which resulted in one of those lovely 2 am work parties, whereby not one, but two grumpy, sleep deprived parents were rousted from their 'slumber' and had to tag team getting our bed stripped of every last shred of bedding, toss it in the wash, all while getting Judah's clothes off of him, running a bath, cleaning the poor kid up, cleaning our mattress off, then getting the bed made up again, our boy dried off, dressed and tucked back in (this time on a stack of flannel receiving blankets as a precaution).
Of course, there was very little point in my even trying to sleep the rest of that night, so I read while Jeff opted to put up with the intermittent 'sleep'.
Judah, who did not know what on earth was happening to him while he continued to toss his cookies every 15 minutes or so ad nauseum (which I'm pretty sure was a latin phrase coined by some parent after just such a night), freaked out, and wanted to hang onto my arm (for moral support, I suppose) and only my arm. Though this kid regularly bypasses me in favor of daddy, nobody but mom would do when sick.
Finally, around 8:30 am, Judah's tummy finally calmed down and we got to sleep for a solid three hours.
We were rudely awakened later that morning by yet another episode of sickness. That was when Judah did something that nothing in all my days of babysitting, nannying and parenting over the last 2 1/2 decades had prepared me for. Judah, my sweet little cherub, was so grossed out by the taste left on his lips that he looked piteously at me and proceeded to spit 'raspberry' style (or zzerbert if you live in the Midwest)...all. over. my. face! Ewww! Lucky me.
Now ya'll already know I don't do puke well. Add to this that I'm a bit of a hypochondriac where germs are concerned. If I even hear of someone getting some illness, and they've breathed the same air I breathed, I'll worry. And fret. And think I'm coming down with it. And take Airborne. And lots and lots of vitamins and supplements. And scrub my hands (or in this case) my face until there could not possibly be a germ left.
I'm also known to routinely wipe down cart handles and door handles with disinfectant wipes, and to insist on each person with me washing hands with baby wipes in the car as a second line of defense. And don't even get me started on the notes sent home from school alerting parents that there have been cases of lice or scabies or some such thing reported at school.
As it turns out, while I did have the characteristic aches of a flu bug, as well as the roiling digestive upset, I never did actually get sick sick. I'm not sure which is worse though...worrying about it and feeling like you're coming down with it for several days, or just contracting it and getting it over and done with in a day or two. Ugh. Lot of good all that extra handwashing did me!
Little Judah, being a hardy kid, seemed to be on the upswing after 36 hours, so we all rallied and ventured out to the grocery store for some supplies. He asked daddy for a cookie from the bakery (where they give free cookies to the kiddos), and happy to see some interest in food again, daddy complied. Judah took a couple of bites as they were walking away, and while Jeff turned to look down each aisle for me, Judah proceeded to, um, toss his cookies (and I don't mean the one in his hand) all over Jeff's shirt and the grocery store floor. Lucky Jeff.
Meanwhile, I'm dashing through the store trying to make short work of shopping, because I'm feeling pretty yucky and achy myself and just wanted to get home to bed, when my mommy radar intercepts an incoming signal.
Or maybe it was just the intercom in the store, blaring "Immediate cleanup needed on aisle 8".
Though my kids have never puked in public before, somehow I just knew that call had something to do with our clan, and that was before our older son Jericho skidded to a stop at the end of the cereal aisle arms flailing, then came dashing breathlessly towards me to give me the lowdown, complete with a very descriptive re-enactment and to inform me that daddy had promptly taken little brother to the car.
We headed straight for the checkout. Where Jericho couldn't help but to keep looking at the scene of the accident on Aisle 8 (where they had cordoned it off with caution tape and cones until some poor soul was brave enough to clean it up).
By the time I got out to the car, poor Jeff was sitting there, green around the gills himself, and our poor little guy was already strapped in his carseat, half clothed and covered with a spare sweatshirt that was in the backseat, because apparently, our diaper bag was MIA. As in left behind at someone's house a couple of days earlier.
Which meant no baby-wipes with which to wash our hands. Hands which suddenly felt dirtier than usual. Oy.
To put it mildly, Jeff was not a happy camper, and we roared out of that parking the second the groceries were loaded in. He did manage to laugh a bit, telling me about the poor courtesy clerks expression when she witnessed the puke on the floor at Jeff's feet. She looked up at him with a horrified expression as though HE had been responsible, and Jeff had to clarify, "It was my son!" (Kind of like Jerry Seinfeld that time in the taxi when the beautiful woman saw him scratching his nose and thought he was picking it...). She obviously hadn't belived him, as the puke was on his shirt, lol.
But even just talking about this made me feel sicker than a dog, and just like a dog traveling by car, I had to keep my nose glued to the barely open window to provide sufficient ventilation to prevent any cases of
We were a sorry mess.
Late that night, Jeff came down with the flu.
The good news is that here a week later, we seem to be much better healthwise.
2. This past Saturday, we took our church youth group on a sledding trip to the mountains, only to get all the way there and find that nearly all the snow had melted. With the exception of a very small shaded patch on a school campus which some family friends that lived in the area helped us to find (thanks Dean & Amber!).
While on this sledding-trip-that-almost-didn't-happen, two of our teen girls decided to sneak off to the nearby town a couple of blocks away while we were setting out lunch for everyone. They were supposed to be sledding on the hill which was close to where we were, just up around a corner and out of sight.
As you can imagine, this caused great anxiety and concern for us, as the responsible parties, for nearly a half hour before they were finally located. These girls had never done such a thing before, and in fact, in all our years of working with the youth group, such a thing has never happened before.
Oy, did they hear it from my husband when they finally showed up! They're also banned from the next couple of outings and got it from their parents when they got to their respective homes that evening.
3. 20 gazillion loads of laundry (thanks to both the flu and the 'sledding' trip)
4. We've had 5 (that's not a typo...five) deaths in our community that have directly touched our lives in the last 10 days. Three of those being dear old folks that attended our church for many years, and the other two being a couple of young people in our community that were recently murdered. My husband had both of these young people as students in his classes at school over the years.
I managed to attend two of the memorial services, but that was pretty much all I could rally for. Though the two I attended were joyful homegoings for two dear, sweet women that I know are now in Heaven, and who were wonderful ladies that left beautiful legacies of faith and love, I now realize that a person is not emotionally equipped to attend more than one or two of these in a weeks time, especially after recent bouts with the flu, severe lack of sleep, and after pondering at length the senseless murders of two young people.
To say I've been feeling a little bit wrung out is a bit of an understatement.
In the odd hours that I was awake and coherent in between all of these events (and wasn't hauling our older son to and from school or had a toddler wanting me to hold him more than usual), I was just plain too weary to do much by way of blogging.
So I blew through my TBR (to be read) stack of books...the Mitford series by Jan Karon. Well, the first seven, anyway. I still have two to go, but I've decided to slow up a bit, as the books are worth savoring. Discussing with others. Mulling over.
I must say, that these were the perfect books to read under such circumstances. I was swept away to a sunny place, and actually laughed a number of times. Her characters are amazing, and you feel like you know (or would enjoy knowing) most of these people after reading the books. I also felt like some of the themes in that series were particularly apropo.
But of course, getting out to my Bible Study helped, too. For me there is nothing as reassuring as being reminded that God is still on His Throne to help put things in perspective.
Please don't think that I'm wallowing in grief. Amazingly, I'm not. There is something... comforting in knowing that the dear folks from our church were all longtime believers in Christ that have now gone on to their reward. From our perspective, there was a striking contrast between them, having lived long, full lives...and then two young people whose lives were prematurely and violently ended. It's more just feeling for their grieving parents, who never expected their children to precede them in death, and certainly not under such circumstances.
There is much more I'd like to say on this topic, but I'll have to save that for another time.
5. On a lighter note, Judah was just disciplined for not staying at the table with his food, and was crying way more than was warranted for the situation because he's overly tired.
Doing his homework in the kitchen, Jericho commented, "Man, Judah cries waaaay too much."
Hearing this, Judah stopped suddenly, mid cry and said, "Shub-up, Jay-co!"
He's not even 2 1/2 for pity's sake, and already we've moved into needing to settle sibling disputes? Oy. Maybe I'll go start that next Jan Karon book after all.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
A Blast From The Past
Maybe I'm all alone in my observations, but I was walking through Michael's Craft Store the other day cruising the 75% off Christmas markdowns, when I realized I was humming along with the familiar music they had playing in the store.
The music from my generation, the fabulous 1980's...being played on an oldies station.
Then, Cyndi Lauper's All Through The Night came on.
Whenever I hear that particular song, it brings me right back to my high school P.E. locker room crowded around the mirror with a bunch of other girls, touching up our makeup and hair after Ms. Kemper's gymnastics class.
I had secreted in my Sony Cassette Player Walkman (doesn't have quite the same 'ring' as iPod, does it?), and was listening to a tape-recorded mix of music which I
There around that mirror in our cloud of Giorgio perfume and L'Oreal hairspray, some of the other girls heard my headphones and were saying, "Turn it up, Becky", "Like, this is a totally cool song" and somewhere behind me another girl commented excitedly as she leaned in to hear, "This is Tony's and my song" (to which several of the girls ahhhed in envy).
Ahh, yes. For that moment, I was the epitome of cool, having thought to bring my walkman. As we sprayed our big 80's hair to perfection, we listened. They didn't even seem to mind the poor quality of the radio recording.
But it was because of that garbled, poor quality recording (complete with static) that I never did get the lyrics quite right, and so would sort of just hum along where I wasn't 100% sure I knew the lines, sort of 'winging it' and hoping nobody caught on, because, you know, that would have been totally uncool to be caught not knowing the lyrics.
But see, I had a slight...problem. In our home, we weren't allowed to listen to 'secular' music.
Which meant that figuring out the actual words for my contriband pop songs was a little like the hunt and peck method of typing...it took a long time, and wasn't very efficient. We didn't have internet access back then to help us in our hour of need.
Needless to say, because of these factors, I never did learn most of the actual lyrics to songs from those days, and was often totally and completely in the dark about what they really meant.
So in Michaels the other day, I realized that I'd never quite learned the lyrics to All Through The Night right, and had no earthly idea what the song was about. All those years I just sang along, not even knowning what I'd been singing about.
So I tried to listen while I shopped.
All through the night was clear enough...
I'll be awake...and I'll be with you... Hmmm. Okay, maybe now I see where this is going.
Maybe that was why this particular song was on a secular station, and not the Christian one I usually listened to.
The song goes on to say something about a meter clicking, and it goes running all through the night.
Tell me Cyndi did not write an entire pop song likening, um, you know what to a cab ride? Can we say tacky? Especially in light of we have no past...
But the worst line is the whole, The sleep in your eyes is enough... What a pitiful choice of words for that line!
The meaning of the song, and even the very ambience of that song has now changed for me.
Since becoming a mom I've come to realize that 'sleep in one's eyes' is nothing...favorable, or in any way romantic. Mom's everywhere scrub their kids faces each morning, because nobody wants to have to look at eye crusties.
How in the world was Cyndi Lauper make it to the top 20 with such a song?
Oy. I must be getting old.
But I have to admit that it actually makes me happy when my own son picks up a few snatches to pop songs here and there (because he is not allowed to listen to secular music either), and he, too, is blissfully ignorant as to what these things really mean.
In a world that pushes kid to grow up way too fast, sometimes innocence, not ignorance, truly is bliss.
Monday, January 7, 2008
A Couple of Awards
In honor of having received two recent awards, and in the immortal words from the infamous and teary acceptance speech by our girl Sally Field, I'd like to say...
"...this time I feel it, and I can't deny the fact that you like me. Right now, you like me!"
Okay, so perhaps a little tongue-in-cheek, but hey...it's good blog material, so whatever.
First, I'd like to thank my blog buddy Gretchen over at Good Enough For Now for the all the nice things she said about my blog when she awarded me with the
I'd like to pass this one along to my friend Yette over at Our Cozy Nook.
Yette lives in the Philippines and keeps a very interesting blog about her life there. She is a stay at home, homeschooling mom, and I especially enjoy reading about the ordinary, every day happenings that are in many ways so like my own, and yet filled with all the different and colorful customs and traditions so unique to the Philippines. Yette has a very sweet, well-spoken way about her, and includes lots of fun pictures of her family and her life there in the Philippines which make it a delightful place to stop off each day while blogsurfing.
Second, I'd like to thank my sweet Blog Buddy Lisa at Kentucky Woman for the
Award.
I'd like to pass this one along to Cathy at Keepin' It Real at 66 degrees North Latitude.
Cathy keeps a very interesting blog about her life in Kotzebue, Alaska, and loads it with her remarkable and beautiful photography, much of which documents the life she and her sweet son have carved out for themselves in the great white North. Her blog is always a really great place to visit.
Congratulations ladies!
"...this time I feel it, and I can't deny the fact that you like me. Right now, you like me!"
Okay, so perhaps a little tongue-in-cheek, but hey...it's good blog material, so whatever.
First, I'd like to thank my blog buddy Gretchen over at Good Enough For Now for the all the nice things she said about my blog when she awarded me with the
I'd like to pass this one along to my friend Yette over at Our Cozy Nook.
Yette lives in the Philippines and keeps a very interesting blog about her life there. She is a stay at home, homeschooling mom, and I especially enjoy reading about the ordinary, every day happenings that are in many ways so like my own, and yet filled with all the different and colorful customs and traditions so unique to the Philippines. Yette has a very sweet, well-spoken way about her, and includes lots of fun pictures of her family and her life there in the Philippines which make it a delightful place to stop off each day while blogsurfing.
Second, I'd like to thank my sweet Blog Buddy Lisa at Kentucky Woman for the
Award.
I'd like to pass this one along to Cathy at Keepin' It Real at 66 degrees North Latitude.
Cathy keeps a very interesting blog about her life in Kotzebue, Alaska, and loads it with her remarkable and beautiful photography, much of which documents the life she and her sweet son have carved out for themselves in the great white North. Her blog is always a really great place to visit.
Congratulations ladies!
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
A Little of This & A Little of That
**Bear with me, please...part of this recap is for the sake of readers from my side of the family who all live far away and weren't able to spend this Christmas with us this year, including my sister Johanna who is currently in SPAIN. ("Luckyyyyy")
Aside from our doggie drama, we've been super busy over this break
Here are a couple of my favorite shots from Christmas morning.
I love when Jericho is so loving with Judah. Here he's thanking him for the gift Judah gave him.
Judah is apparently no longer afraid of Elmo's eyes. "Tank you, Gwamma~ gift card".
Judah especially loved his new Cowboy gear, and insisted on wearing it all day over his footed pj's.
:: :: :: ::
After Christmas, we took off for a couple of days for a 'turnaround' trip to Sandy Eggo, CA (as our older son used to call it).
The first afternoon there we saw the Dead Sea Scrolls.
Aside from the fact that the exhibit was a tad overcrowded, we enjoyed it immensely. I loved the technological gadget they had at that museum...these cool little listening 'wands' that were sort of like cordless phones, where you could walk around and punch the number of the exhibit you wished to know more about into the keypad, hold it to your ear and it would narrate all the information to you on demand.
I so wish I could have taken pictures while in the exhibit, because it was all so interesting. Beginning with the photo enlargement of the nomadic shepherd that found the Dead Sea Scrolls. The photo was taken years later (1964 or so) when he was a grown man with a son of his own. He might have looked like a typical Bible times shepherd from the dusty sandaled feet and the long tattered gown and traditional head covering... except for the fact that he wore a double breasted suit blazer over his clothes, lol. Well, that and the fact that he resembled a dark haired Kevin Costner.
There was a very interesting computer animation commissioned for the exhibit, which showed what life might have been like in the ancient fortress-like settlement of Qumran (near the caves where, where the Dead Sea Scrolls were believed to have originated). Some very convincing 'evidence' found linking the settlement with the scrolls included a couple of inkwells found in a room believed to have been where the scrolls were copied by scribes on long stone tables that could have accomodated the open vellum scrolls. Also, the clay pots the scrolls were found in were of the exact composition as the broken pottery that was found at the settlement. Wars and other threats on their settlement probably led them to hide copies in caves throughout the region for safekeeping. There may even be more out there somewhere.
The video was fascinating, and suggested the place to be a fortress of sorts, with an elaborate pool and cistern water collection system capable of sustaining a couple hundred people, livestock and such out in the middle of the arid desert in it's heyday, and likely supported the work of the potters and scribes. In short, we thought it would have been a really cool place to visit back in the day...almost like an ancient Palm Springs, CA.
After seeing the before and after photos of the botched job of preservation on the part of the initial owners of the collection of the vellum (cured lamb or goatskin 'paper') fragments and scrolls, the scrapbooker in me cringes.
Because, unlike old family photos stuck under non-acid free photo album pages, many of these vellum fragments were almost irreparably damaged since their discovery back in the 1940's, having been placed for posterity between glass plates, the edges of which were sealed with Scotch tape made before the time of acid free stuff, which was enough to gelatinize the ancient vellum, blurring and nearly destroying some of them.
It was fascinating to see what the modern day curators have done to preserve them and reverse and repair some of the damage. The elaborate lengths they've gone to. The sorted and organized collection of fragments are now very carefully sewn between nearly invisible mesh screens which are made of poly something or other and placed in protective frames, where nothing but this mesh touches the fragments or scrolls, and keeps them flat and well protected. They are kept in climate controlled cases as well.
Whew, it's mind boggling the process of putting together of all the fragments of pottery and scrolls into the proper order. It was amazing to see these ancient copies of sections of the book of Psalms and other Old Testament passages and documents dating back to Biblical times.
All this to say it was well worth visiting the exhibit.
:: :: :: ::
That evening, we weary travellers stayed over at Jeff's sister Karen's house about an hour or so away. The following morning, we got up early, and headed for the San Diego Zoo.
Oy, the hills!
So. Many. Hills.
But they do have a great collection of animals. I never knew before that anteater babies ride their mother's backs for most of their youth. Or that a doctor began the park for the children of San Diego. Or that many animated movies have been drawn after the artists have observed animals there at that zoo or it's sister facility, the Wild Animal Park.
While we enjoyed our last visit there when our oldest was about five...this time was different. You'll see why.
This is the last in a series of pictures of this creepy albino Burmese Python in the reptile house spotting our son, then coming down off the limb to get a closer look at Judah (who regarded it warily, clinging to my neice Nicole).
(Click to enlarge.)
It was way creepier than even this picture could convey. I felt like it was feeding time at the zoo, and he was sizing Judah up as his next meal!
**shudders**
Then there was this croc, which I think was nicknamed the 'Needle Nose crocodile' or something, but this was the look it was giving our older son Jericho. Kind of makes a person feel a little strange, even with the glass between us.
Then later in the Orangutan exhibit, a young orangutan seemed to single Judah out of the crowd gathered around the window. It gave me the willies.
Aside from our doggie drama, we've been super busy over this break
Here are a couple of my favorite shots from Christmas morning.
I love when Jericho is so loving with Judah. Here he's thanking him for the gift Judah gave him.
Judah is apparently no longer afraid of Elmo's eyes. "Tank you, Gwamma~ gift card".
Judah especially loved his new Cowboy gear, and insisted on wearing it all day over his footed pj's.
:: :: :: ::
After Christmas, we took off for a couple of days for a 'turnaround' trip to Sandy Eggo, CA (as our older son used to call it).
The first afternoon there we saw the Dead Sea Scrolls.
Aside from the fact that the exhibit was a tad overcrowded, we enjoyed it immensely. I loved the technological gadget they had at that museum...these cool little listening 'wands' that were sort of like cordless phones, where you could walk around and punch the number of the exhibit you wished to know more about into the keypad, hold it to your ear and it would narrate all the information to you on demand.
I so wish I could have taken pictures while in the exhibit, because it was all so interesting. Beginning with the photo enlargement of the nomadic shepherd that found the Dead Sea Scrolls. The photo was taken years later (1964 or so) when he was a grown man with a son of his own. He might have looked like a typical Bible times shepherd from the dusty sandaled feet and the long tattered gown and traditional head covering... except for the fact that he wore a double breasted suit blazer over his clothes, lol. Well, that and the fact that he resembled a dark haired Kevin Costner.
There was a very interesting computer animation commissioned for the exhibit, which showed what life might have been like in the ancient fortress-like settlement of Qumran (near the caves where, where the Dead Sea Scrolls were believed to have originated). Some very convincing 'evidence' found linking the settlement with the scrolls included a couple of inkwells found in a room believed to have been where the scrolls were copied by scribes on long stone tables that could have accomodated the open vellum scrolls. Also, the clay pots the scrolls were found in were of the exact composition as the broken pottery that was found at the settlement. Wars and other threats on their settlement probably led them to hide copies in caves throughout the region for safekeeping. There may even be more out there somewhere.
The video was fascinating, and suggested the place to be a fortress of sorts, with an elaborate pool and cistern water collection system capable of sustaining a couple hundred people, livestock and such out in the middle of the arid desert in it's heyday, and likely supported the work of the potters and scribes. In short, we thought it would have been a really cool place to visit back in the day...almost like an ancient Palm Springs, CA.
After seeing the before and after photos of the botched job of preservation on the part of the initial owners of the collection of the vellum (cured lamb or goatskin 'paper') fragments and scrolls, the scrapbooker in me cringes.
Because, unlike old family photos stuck under non-acid free photo album pages, many of these vellum fragments were almost irreparably damaged since their discovery back in the 1940's, having been placed for posterity between glass plates, the edges of which were sealed with Scotch tape made before the time of acid free stuff, which was enough to gelatinize the ancient vellum, blurring and nearly destroying some of them.
It was fascinating to see what the modern day curators have done to preserve them and reverse and repair some of the damage. The elaborate lengths they've gone to. The sorted and organized collection of fragments are now very carefully sewn between nearly invisible mesh screens which are made of poly something or other and placed in protective frames, where nothing but this mesh touches the fragments or scrolls, and keeps them flat and well protected. They are kept in climate controlled cases as well.
Whew, it's mind boggling the process of putting together of all the fragments of pottery and scrolls into the proper order. It was amazing to see these ancient copies of sections of the book of Psalms and other Old Testament passages and documents dating back to Biblical times.
All this to say it was well worth visiting the exhibit.
:: :: :: ::
That evening, we weary travellers stayed over at Jeff's sister Karen's house about an hour or so away. The following morning, we got up early, and headed for the San Diego Zoo.
Oy, the hills!
So. Many. Hills.
But they do have a great collection of animals. I never knew before that anteater babies ride their mother's backs for most of their youth. Or that a doctor began the park for the children of San Diego. Or that many animated movies have been drawn after the artists have observed animals there at that zoo or it's sister facility, the Wild Animal Park.
While we enjoyed our last visit there when our oldest was about five...this time was different. You'll see why.
This is the last in a series of pictures of this creepy albino Burmese Python in the reptile house spotting our son, then coming down off the limb to get a closer look at Judah (who regarded it warily, clinging to my neice Nicole).
(Click to enlarge.)
It was way creepier than even this picture could convey. I felt like it was feeding time at the zoo, and he was sizing Judah up as his next meal!
**shudders**
Then there was this croc, which I think was nicknamed the 'Needle Nose crocodile' or something, but this was the look it was giving our older son Jericho. Kind of makes a person feel a little strange, even with the glass between us.
Then later in the Orangutan exhibit, a young orangutan seemed to single Judah out of the crowd gathered around the window. It gave me the willies.
But then, that could have been because of the story of the Tiger Maulings in the San Francisco Zoo a day or two before.
:: :: :: ::
That evening, we visited this home in Murietta, CA
As you can see, the owners have gone to elaborate, Griswold-like lengths to create a fantastic light display, literally encrusting their home and lawn-and their neighbors homes and lawns on either side-with lights. (Not that I'd complain if the neighbor offered to decorate my house for Christmas and foot the electric bill.)
The husband, a retiree, told us he had over 180,000 lights, 90 extension cords, and had covered his lawn with all manner of lighted displays, which required adding an additional electrical panel to his home to accomodate it (and a substantial electrical bill, no doubt).
The star (not including the tails) below was over 5 feet tall, but looked small from where we stood.
Oh, and carefully sewn together quilt batting completely covered all the yards to resemble snow.
They had even thought to include a snow-making machine that would spew snow into the air every few minutes for the "White Christmas" effect.
It was quite elaborate (if gaudy), but fun to see nonetheless.
Jericho commented during the light show, "Wow, I'd hate to have to take all this down when it's all over!", and later, "I wonder where he keeps it all when it's not on his house?!" I'm inclined to agree and wonder.
The man's wife had decorated the inside just as thoroughly (it, too, was open to the public), with a massive Christmas Village collection, lots of lighted, decorative garland on every surface and the bannister railing, several trees as well as numerous details in every nook and cranny around the place, including this little scene on the way in the front door. A large antique doll (Chatty Cathy?) making angels in the quilt batting snow.
The man of the place had synchronized the light show to some music on his computer, and included a powerpoint photo tribute to our troops, law enforcement and rescue personnel from the area.
Which made it very Christmassy and Patriotic, but I appreciated that the final, focal point occurred when the garage door lifted up at the end to reveal a giant Nativity scene with a Bethlehem backdrop.
The kids and I really enjoyed it, however, and it definitely topped our "Christmas Light" excursions for the year.
:: :: :: ::
We returned from our trip to the doggie drama of my last posting, and had our neice Samantha stay with us for a couple of days.
Here, Jericho, another cousin Kody and Sami are all trying to look big and bad while modeling their assorted Nerf weaponry.
Naturally, little brother tried to get in on the action (that's his "Helmet of Salvation" worn on his head backwards, lol).
:: :: :: ::
While all this was going on, I was working on one of our year-end organizational projects using my humdinger of a new Christmas gift. My Christmas surprise.
I must retract my former statements suggesting that my husband was not working hard enough to pull off a surprise, because for my Christmas gift he managed to not only purchase it online without my knowledge, but to have it sent to his mom's house and get it wrapped and under the tree for me Christmas morning without my having had a clue.
He also managed to get a higher quality version than the one I'd had on my list for half off (which ended up being less than the price of the low quality one). It was a great surprise and a great deal to boot! (You da man, Jeff!)
And that wasn't even half the fun! Plugging the USB cord into my laptop and cataloguing book collection using the online program LibraryThing almost made up for the fact that I'd recently culled over 100 books from my collection.
I know. It's sick, isn't it? That we're this anal that we have to catalog our books?
It's really for my sanity's sake, because between us, we own boxes full of publications and books we reference for everything from Jeff's school lessons to Bible Study, to nutritional info or recipes, among other things, and because we don't have room to store them all in the house, this little program, with it's system of tagging each book however you wish, has revolutionized our method of looking up which box in the garage or shelf in the house has what book (which prevents us from buying duplicates) and will allow us quick access to just the one we need.
Playing library with my barcode scanner, by the way, was almost as much fun as playing post office when I was younger(the stamp and mail version, not the old kissing game).
:: :: :: ::
For some reason, this toy (which Judah got for Christmas) has become a toy in demandaround this house.
It's a cheap echo-chamber thing, but when you sing "The Star Spangled Banner" or "Amazing Grace" into it, no matter how bad your voice, you can sound like a country music star. And it's a lot more fun to hold while singing than a curling iron or the handle of the vacuum cleaner as I did when I was younger.
Ahem. You understand, of course, that I know this strictly from my observations. LOL.
:: :: :: ::
Overheard today between my sons:
Jericho (age 11) "Stop messing with my toys, Judah!"
Judah (age 2) "Step off, Jay-co!" he throws defensively over his shoulder in passing.
I'm thinking perhaps our family has seen a few too many viewings of the movie School of Rock.
:: :: :: ::
When we drive anywhere as a family, especially if it's a long trip, we usually start off with a prayer for safety and other things going on in our lives.
If there is the slightest pause in that prayer, Judah will pipe in "Amen!"
So we're visiting Jeff's brother's church on Sunday morning (after bringing the dog to him), and the Pastor goes on and on in a lengthy prayer, and pauses (to catch his breath)...at which point Judah calls out in true Baptist style, "A-men!"
Even the old folks in that church heard that one and got a real kick out of it. Though they did their best to supress chuckles, we still saw several quivering shoulders.
And then later, Jeff had to take Judah into the foyer because he wouldn't sit still and got too noisy. A few minutes after being taken out, Judah got loose (during the middle of the sermon) and went charging halfway up the aisle, much to the pastor's surprise and the congregation's amusement.
We actually had folks come up to us and say how delighted they were to have us visit!
:: :: :: ::
I love technology. While we were at the San Diego Zoo, Jeff's neice was showing me how her new Blackberry worked, and we were able to look up my blog on it.
How amazing to have that kind of technology at my fingertips.
Of course, it's really better that I never get such a thing. I'd probably be dangerous (and rude and inattentive) if I had access to the internet (and my blog) anywhere but at home. Even I am aware of my limitations.
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