Stuck in Frump, Striving for Fab

The temperatures in our desert have dropped considerably this past week. We had 90+ temperatures in Early November, and were still getting tomatoes off our vines. But we've dipped into the high 20's at night, and I've actually (finally!) packed up all our summer clothes and flip flops, and have brought out the down comforters so we can all be nice and cozy inside for the winter.

Outside, our beloved dog Raisin has a cozy new bed inside her dog house.

Everyone in our household is snug, warm and ready for winter.

Things would be great...except for one thing.

Birds.

Thieving little birds that think they are entitled to Raisin's food, when it rightfully belongs to her as she is the one who has earned it patrolling the perimeter.

It has gotten to be costly (we currently buying twice the dog food we used to).

It has also gotten to be troublesome to Raisin.

Especially since they have taken to brazenly looting her bowl in broad daylight.

She's taken to lying on her sunny spot bed and keeping watch all day long.

Here she is on full alert status.

She even drug one of the boys toy rifles over to the bowl as a show of force.



It did nothing to deter the birds.

Apparently they are 'onto' the whole meaning of the 'orange tip on toy guns' thing.

They don't seem to worry too much about the dog, either.



"Do you see what I'm dealing with here?", Raisin asks, appalled that things in her little corner of the world have come to this.



But she has not taken this sitting down.

She's finally begun chasing them away with a deep-throated growl.

In fact, she's caught two birds already. And the one mouse.

Yes, our beloved dog has crossed the line from from good citizen dog to serial bird and mouse killer.

When she ran up to Jericho all proud of her conquest with the first bird, he said in disgust, "Get away from me, bird breath!" (In much the same manner as, "Get thee behind me, Satan!")

When we saw that first bird fluttering in Raisin's jowls, I was worried little Judah would be traumatized and warned him to stay back where he couldn't see it.

I wasn't quick enough, however, as he moved to the front of the crowd at our glass sliding door and yelled excitedly, yea even proudly, "She's a hunteen dog now!"

This was not originally intended to be a Thanksgiving post, but something amazing happened back in early October and my heart continues to well up with thanks to God for it so I just had to share about it here.

To start, I must first mention that in the early Spring, my husband was given a pink slip from his school district. Along with 92 other teachers and staff in the district that were among the 'recent' hires.

He's been a teacher for 15 or 16 years now (with a short hiatus in which he worked for a trucking company when we first moved to this area) but when we moved across town a few years ago, Jeff switched to his current school district and this year, was 5th from the top of 'the list' of pink-slips. 5th in line to be hired back if they so chose.

We're currently a single income family, and I would be lying if I said that I didn't feel a little niggle of worry in the back of my mind at the sudden changes I knew were looming on the horizon because of all this. The previous school year, the district had done the same thing, only that time Jeff didn't make 'the list'.

The district was being overly cautious this time around, no doubt due in part to the fact that our entire country was seeing an unprecedented increase in government spending, and frankly, things weren't looking quite so promising as they had the year before.

With all the economic uncertainty, among teachers there was talk of what had happened during another infamous economic crisis in our nation, the Great Depression...when many districts around the nation eliminated high schools because there just wasn't a sufficient tax base to support them.

If that were to happen (God forbid), they knew that the long term teachers would be shifted around among the remaining jobs district wide and there would be a lot more people unemployed.

Around this time, the building boom finally went bust in our area, people began losing their homes in record numbers, and enrollment dropped in our area.

Circumstances didn't look so good, and the situation was never far from our minds.

However, as we prayed about it and trusted the Lord to care for us, that 'peace that transcends all understanding*' settled over us.

We knew that our faithful Lord, who had provided all our needs in years past, would do so again.

And from our experience, it seemed that things occurring during just such times were especially remarkable to witness because they just didn't add up on paper.

With God, the One who owns the "Cattle on a thousand hills"...nothing is impossible.

A couple of weeks after receiving the pink slip, Jeff was honored with becoming "Teacher of the Year" at his school.

I was delighted for him, but the recent pink slip kind of put a damper on things for him. To be told you're teacher of the year material after essentially being told you are not coming back...seemed wrong, somehow.

But we continued to pray.

There was still that inexplicable sense of Peace. The Lord had always been faithful to care for us in the past...and after directing our focus continually back where we knew it should be, we knew He would continue to do so.

And blessedly, a couple of months later, his job was reinstated...with a pay cut.

However, we were thankful to the Lord for that job even with the pay cut, because a 6.5 % decrease in pay was a whole lot better than the projected 15% cut the district had wanted.

It was doable if we tightened the belt a bit.

And so we did.

And we managed just fine.

In fact, it was during this time that we experienced several substantial blessings...the gift of a camper and a computer among them.

We began to feel that belt tighten, however, and learned that we had been a bit excessive in our spending. Too much eating out. But we continued to express our thanks to the Lord our Provider, and cut back wherever we could.

I was thrilled that I could still stay home with our little Judah and not have to re-enter the work force or put him into daycare.

And somehow, in the midst of our lack of funds, we found ourselves able to give back to the Lord and others in many other ways. And we were blessed in the giving. Abundantly blessed.

Though none of this added up on paper, we always had enough of everything we needed and always had plenty to give.

Then things began happening to our cars that were out of Jeff's realm of expertise.

We had to face facts. Our paid off older cars were beginning to cost us more than they were worth.

Getting them to pass Smog and get re-registered seemed an absurd expenditure when one of our cars was barely limping along and the other needed some expensive work on it.

My long-suffering husband Jeff was also getting weary of spending so many weekends trying to keep the cars in working condition.

We continued to pray for the means to buy a more reliable vehicle. A longstanding prayer of many years, actually.

Always before, the Lord had provided something that always got us through and was generally a step up from the last vehicle we'd had, and, with the exception of our black car (which cost a mere $500), the rest of our vehicles were given to us outright.

We've had a long history with these auto related blessings.

There was the red compact.

The pick-up. Which, like a cat, seems to have 9 lives with us.

The van.

The camper.

Each time, we felt enormously blessed, and thanked the Lord for His provision.

Jeff, self-sacrificing man that he is, always made sure I had the best of the cars to drive, seeing as he didn't want me and the kids stranded around town.

More recently, he was driving the black car. It ran pretty well but is totally falling apart inside due to it's age.

This year, due to the whole "Teacher of the Year thing", Jeff got as his reward the most coveted parking spot on campus...right outside the school office.

However, he'd been a little too embarrassed to park there on account of having to tuck the door handles into the car each time they got out.

They were attached only by the electrical cords that operated the electric windows and locks as there was literally nothing left to attach the deteriorating foam handles back to, short of bolting them through the door itself...a step he wasn't willing to take.

Needless to say, our car situation was really wearing thin for Jeff, but with finances being tight, there wasn't a lot of wiggle room for a car payment.

And so we continued to trust the Lord and pray.

And then, out of the blue...the most remarkable thing happened...and from a source we never ever would have expected!

It was like our own version of the movie Facing the Giants.

This beautiful truck was driven over to our house one sunny Saturday in October.



At first, we were ready to scold the young man and his fiancee who brought it over, because twice, in previous weeks, they had come over to show us their brand new vehicles, asking Jeff, "So, what do you think?"

And both times we'd shared in their joy.

You see, their excitement and joy was bittersweet for them, because they had come into a large sum of money from a life insurance policy which had been paid out when the fiancee's mother was involved in a tragic car accident a couple of months ago. Heartrending events still fresh in everyone's mind.

"It's a beautiful truck" Jeff admitted, adding in his fatherly tone, "But you two need to get in and see a financial planner and make sure you have enough set aside to buy yourselves a home. It's not everyone that gets the opportunity to start their married lives off this way..."

The young woman pulled out her camera. And the young man said, "Actually...this truck isn't for us...it's for you."

And Jeff's mouth dropped to the ground.

"NooOoOoooo..." he replied, shaking his head. "I can't accept something like that from you guys!" He went to hand the keys back. "It's too much!"

The young man held his hand up, "No it's not...it's a gift."

The young man had wisely thought to bring along his grandma (Jeff's mom) as backup. "No, Jeff...this is a gift from him to you...and you need to just accept it as such."

And the words this young man spoke as he hugged us both and told us how much he appreciated our impact in his life brought tears. We were truly humbled beyond words.

This young man is an extended family member who we love like our own. And in fact, one of the two main reasons we moved across country 13 years earlier was to be here for he, his siblings and his mom as they underwent a terrible time in their lives.

13 years ago, when all this stuff was going on in our lives, we just prayed...trusted God and took a leap of faith...and He not only caught us, but provided for us every step of the way. Moving money, a job, a place to rent which was an incredible deal and was literally doors down from their family...we knew it was meant to be and we were happy to do whatever we could to help our family.

We never dreamed that our obedience to God then would, in a sense, lead to such an amazing gift these many years later.

Our wonderful Lord used these generous souls to bless us with that beautiful truck outright.

And let me tell you, once we got past the shock, there was much hugging and happy-dancing going on in our driveway.



It's the newest vehicle we've ever owned...with low mileage and all the bells and whistles plus a full 3 year warranty...which means we can even take cross-country trips in it! Praise the Lord!

As we took our beautiful new-to-us truck for a spin later that evening, we pulled out some CD's (because this vehicle was the first vehicle we'd ever owned that came with a working CD player inside) and as we drove, we sang praises to God at the top of our lungs...astounded and utterly giddy at His provision.

And the next morning, we all peeked out the window and Jeff exclaimed, "It wasn't a dream!"

And Jeff now happily parks in that hard-won "Teacher of the Year" spot at school, thanking Him every time he gets behind that wheel for answering that yearning for a reliable vehicle...beyond his wildest dreams.

The Lord has truly been good to us, and for these and many other blessings I am especially thankful this Thanksgiving.

Every good and perfect gift comes from above. ~James 1:17b

*Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. ~Philippians 4:6-7

:: :: :: ::

It bears mentioning that this couldn't have happened in more perfect timing, as the black car all but gave up the ghost on the side of the freeway yesterday afternoon.



Here was Jeff, administering first aid to the vehicle.

Turns out that running out of gas was the least of the car's problems.



And yes, that is a bowling pin used to hold up the hood of the black car. We're classy that way.

Unfortunately, the black car had to be transported home via ambulance tow-truck, and is now in critical condition in our driveway.

We fear she is not long for this world.

Thankfully our van is still viable, and in a couple of weeks when Jeff completes what we hope is the last major repair on it for a long while, she should be good as new for a long while.

Thankfulness abounding,

Frumpmama

No doubt everyone remembers their first car.

That old bucket o' bolts that was held together with duct tape and baling wire, and which coasted into gas stations on a wing and a prayer?

Or was that just mine?

**blushes**

In any case, most folks have had at least one vehicle which was utterly humiliating humbling to drive.

But they were your wheels, and you were grateful to have them.

As is the case with Judah's first car.



It's missing a headlight (from trick riding on the hood while operating the pedals inside with his hands). Scared much, mom?

The paint job has been horribly damaged by the desert sun.

And it currently has to be pushed around because the battery refuses to charge as it should and we've not been able to locate a replacement.

But they're his wheels, and he enjoys that car regardless of whether or not it moves on it's own.

Note the bow hanging over the roll bar in front of him.

Doesn't every desert dwelling jeep owner carry one of these at all times?

Judah seems to think so.

I'm just thankful that the arrows are tipped with suction cups, because he was shooting them straight up into the air moments before, letting them fall where they may.

And his expression? That was him saying, "Mo-ohm"...because I had just scolded him with that favorite mom-line, "You'll shoot your eye out, kid!"

:: :: :: ::

I just love when we manage to capture moments like these on the camera.

Both our boys kickin' back on the sofa together...hanging out and enjoying each others company.



What could possibly bring them together in such a peaceful manner?

Mostly the fact that big brother was exhausted after his wrestling tournament earlier and little brother exhausted from watching it.

It might also have had a little something to do with the fact that Toy Story 2 was playing on the TV.

I like to think, however, that the feelings of brotherly love had carried over a bit from earlier that day.

That was when little brother seemed to sense that big brother was nervous about his upcoming match...the third one of the day.

And, thoughtful little brother that he is, seemed to know just what would help.



Sometimes it's not so much that they're there at that pivotal moment in life...but the fact that they care.

That they will love you no matter the outcome.



And that they'll be cheering for you all through your match, pulling for you to win, but loving you anyways even if you don't.

And that they'll be proud-to-busting when you take home the 2nd Place medal for your weight class at the tournament.



Admittedly, it might also have had a little something to do with the fact that big brother shared his Gingerbread shake with you at Red Robin after his big victory. Even if you did eat the lone gingersnap on off the top.



In any case...I like it, and want to see a lot more of it.



"Be kindly affectionate to one another with brotherly love, in honor giving preference to one another." ~ Romans 12:10

I recently went in for my bi-monthly Hairapy appointment.

Though I've been experienced the pain of a bad haircut in the past, I think, like childbirth, that I usually forget all that pain by the time my next appointment rolls around.

Somehow, the moment I cross the threshold of a salon, the sights and smells seem to contribute to this renewed sense of hope that this time...this time it's going to be the 'best haircut ever', I'm going to love it and I'm going to walk out of the salon feeling like a new woman.

I was a bit overdue for this appointment.

This old gray mare just ain't what she used to be.

The old 'touch-up-the-grays-with-a jumbo-black-Sharpie' trick no longer works for me.

Mostly because having a daredevil five year old son has caused grays to come in at an alarming rate of speed.

Adding insult to injury, it was this same son who announced quite loudly and excitedly in church one Sunday not long ago, "Mama...you have lots of sparkly hairs!" Thanks a lot.

Which was why I was there to begin with.

Seriously, I was so embarrassed I wanted to dye.

And die. But only after the aforementioned son pulled half a dozen spinning stunts like this one while at the salon:



Apparently cake doughnuts and vanilla milk from Starbucks (which I had bribed him with earlier to sit still) had gone straight to his bloodstream, resulting in hair salon gymnastics, pulled cords, and fallen hair styling implements.

The stylists were all very sweet, and brought out paper and markers hoping to save their salon for him to draw.

Which kept him busy for a while. Three or four minutes at least.

The cars and action figures I had in different parts of my purse were each cast aside after about ten minutes.

Which left a considerable amount of time to contend with such antics.

Why, oh, why and I thought it a good idea to bring him along? And why did I get him Starbucks and not some happy meal with a toy?

Anyway, so I'm sitting through the whole process, trying to keep a close eye on the boy by playing endless games of "I Spy", while sitting beneath that brain-cooking, hair dye 'setting' whole-head hair dryer and flipping through some hairstyle magazines...when I was overcome by the smothering heat.

Heat which caused me to toss aside the hairstyle book and say to myself, "Nah...I think I'll just explain to the stylist what I want. They never get it just like the pictures anyway."

I think the hair dye must have had some instantaneous affect on my own blood stream or the fumes from the dye were getting to my brain, because I actually felt confident in my ability to explain the look I was going for to her verbally. There are dozens of celebrities wearing longish layers, after all.

That I'd overheard a couple of other stylists sidle up and ask if she could do their hair when their shifts were over at various points while under the dryer seemed to speak well of her ability.

Now my hair grows super-slow. It's taken a couple of years worth of those trims (you know, the ones which are supposed to help it to grow longer) to finally get past my shoulders, and the last thing I wanted was for her to cut off any length.

She explained that with my texture of hair, she'd probably use a razoring technique to get rid of the split ends and give a little more volume and better blending for the layers.

It was then I took note of her own beautiful medium length style and her impeccable taste in clothing, and decided that I trusted her implicitly.

After shampooing and conditioning my freshly dyed hair, she asked me a few pertinent questions to be sure we were on the same page, and got to work.

When she finished, I noted that the front had shaped up rather nicely.

It wasn't until she handed me the mirror and spun me around for a look at the sides and the back that I recognized the celebrity she'd apparently been going for:



No, not her...him!

David Cassidy of The Partridge Family fame.

Though the lyrics immediately popped into my mind, I couldn't say "I think I love you" and I certainly couldn't bring myself to "C'mon get happy...". Because I was neither.

Because she had done such a great job with the dyeing, I couldn't bring myself to let on that I wasn't happy with the cut. I plastered on a smile and resigned myself to a future of ponytails.

I still feel a bit put out that I now have 1970's man hair! Couldn't she at least have gone more the direction of Farrah Fawcett?

Seriously...no matter how I style it, and no matter how much product I use...within about an hour...I look just like David Cassidy.





I know 'retro' is in, but c'mon... feathered hair?

**Sigh**

I'm so done with trying to achieve a celebrity style.

Never quite works out for the way I expected.

Oh, and as it turns out, "I Spy" worked quite well for entertaining him for the rest of our time there. In fact, they even gave Judah a helium balloon for being such a "good boy".

It had been a pretty rough couple of weeks in our house.

Jericho's coach needed another guy in the 120's weight class, and so Jericho had to drop a few pounds to make weight.

For a lean and wiry guy like him, this was no easy task.

It involved switching to a low-sugar, low-carb, high protein diet for a few days, and running a couple of miles each morning and night on the treadmill.

Because he usually takes a pretty good size lunch to carry him through from breakfast to the end of his after school sports practices, eliminating the carbs was like torture to him.

And because I was the one packing those lunches, I was the bad guy.

It's hard to hear your kid say, "I'm starving, mom...my stomach growls all day long...I need more!" The accompanying pleading look of desperation almost did me in.

But the goal was in sight, and we knew it was important for his own personal discipline and training that he see this thing through to the bitter end.

We gave him plenty of fruits and veggies between meals to help fill the void.

And discovered that spaghetti squash makes a pretty good substitute for a pesto dish when you can't have all the carbs in the usual whole wheat pasta version.

The night before the big meet, about 8 pm, when Jericho was once again ravenous and foraging in the fruit bowl having already burned off his dinner from two hours before, I heard him rhapsodizing, "...and when the meet is over tomorrow...I'm gonna have a big ol' spoonful of peanut butter! And two hardboiled eggs! And milk! And...and...bread....I miss bread!"

Poor kid didn't even remember all the candy he got trick-or-treating, lol.

Nevertheless, after all the coaxing coaching him along to meeting this goal, by the morning of the big weigh-in we were all on pins and needles.

After weighing himself that morning, Jericho came walking into the kitchen, arms upraised in victory and yelled excitedly, "I get to have raisin bran!"

I never thought in a million years that I would ever hear my teenager utter such words...ever, lol.

Ha ha, nothing like a strict dietary restrictions to really help him get his priorities in order.

Apparently those raisins were like ambrosia after two weeks of nothing but 'health' foods and very little sweet stuff.

Anyway, despite the 85 degree temps in November (seriously...when is fall going to arrive in our desert, anyway?), the day was gorgeous.

Here was a beautiful crimson tree on his school campus which really popped against the blue, blue sky.

Love. The. Fall.



Frumpmama that I am, my crochet bag comes along to all meets. Having something to do to pass the time helps to keep my mind off the discomfort of those hard wooden bleachers.

And the little girls nearby who, along with Judah, love to play with the hilarity inducing Flarp for the entire two hours.

But when it's Jericho's turn to wrestle...I feel this unusual transformation come over me.

Truly, a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde kind of transformation.

I go from the cool-calm-collected-crocheting wrestling mom to the drop-everything-and-cheer-like-a-crazy person version of myself.

"GO GET 'EM, JERICHO!"

"THAT'S MY BOY!"

"WooHOOOOOOO!"



Those few minutes your kid is on the mat feel like an eternity.

I bob and dodge and strain to the left and right just as keenly as though I were the one on the mat, praying all the while that the other guy (in red) not hurt my baby.



Jeff, too.

That's him in the upper left corner in the blue shirt.



He's assistant coach and has to keep the book during each meet, and does a great job of it.

But when his kid gets out there...he, too, feels that transformation come over him.

He's like a crouching tiger...and it's all he can do to restrain himself as coach, to hold back and let the head coach do the yelling and to not show too much extra enthusiasm or partiality when he has an entire team of boys to encourage along.

But we needn't have worried.

This was about two swift movements before Jericho pinned his guy. "WooHOOOOO!"



Wow...that's exhausting!