In Your Face? Maybe so.

I had a reader send me an email a while back.  She said she thought she might be friends with me, but she was unsure as I seem to be an "in your face" Christian.  I was shocked.  She was basing this on my old side bar that had steps of how to become a Christian.  I was actually tired of that sidebar and had been thinking of changing it for months, but couldn't come up with anything...

Anyway, that sidebar was basically a spin off of the "ABCs" that our church teaches every single child that walks through the door during Vacation Bible School.  Call me crazy, but if it's unoffensive to children, I think that adults can handle it.  Other than maybe kids are more willing to admit they've done wrong and the only way they can ever get to heaven is acknowledging that they have sinned and they need a savior. (Romans 3:23)

But that is not what this post is about.  This post is about conversations at work.  Conversations that perhaps paint me as an "in your face" Christian.

One of my coworkers was asking how to join our church, "Do you have to take a class or something?"  My response led to a discussion about salvation, and my belief that once saved, you can never lose your salvation.  It is always secure. (Romans 8:35-39, and here's a great article on secure salvation) God promises us an eternity spent with Him in heaven...

I guess that's a pretty bold conversation to have in front of a mixed crowd.

Yesterday I had a very trying patient.  He did not want to be there.  He was adamant that nothing was wrong with his dialysis graft, and that we were wasting his time.  I told him that if the dialysis unit was wrong, then he could go gloat to them, but if they were right, he would be glad we saved it before it failed completely.  There were many, many conversations with him that day.  Trying conversations.  Conversations where I struggled to be patient and kind...

When we were back in the procedure room, and I was getting the patient situated with monitors and warm blankets, and asking my last minute safety questions (which I had already asked as soon as he arrived, but we double check in procedure) he began to be belligerent and confrontational saying he'd already answered those questions and he wasn't a liar, so I needed to quit asking the same questions over and over...

The doctor walked in.  "Andi, would you like to do a time out now?"

Translation:  Would you like to do the time out (a safety tool where we all verbalize what procedure is being done and I compare the information with the patient ID band and consent form to be sure we are all doing the right procedure) so you can give this fellow some sedation and SHUT HIM UP?

At least, that's how I interpreted his wink and smile...

So, I gave the patient his sedation.

A few minutes into the procedure I realized I'd forgot to offer up prayer before we started, so I just paused a moment in what I was doing and said a quick blessing over the patient...

Fast forward about 20 minutes into the procedure.  The doctor had failed to mention he was about to stretch open a narrow spot in the fistula.  Or I hadn't heard him say it, which is a real possibility.  Angioplasty in a dialysis fistula is very painful.  There is really nothing I can do to make it not painful, other than a dollop more of pain medicine mixed with some Versed to make him forget he ever felt it...

He woke up when that balloon inflated and started yelling and was very angry because he claims we said it "wouldn't hurt." Which is totally untrue.  We would never say that because, as I said, angioplasty hurts.  You can't numb the inside of vein walls.

I gave him a little more medicine.  He went back to sleep.  And this time I tried to be more diligent about watching my monitor, the patient, and to see if the doctor had the tool out for angioplasty (I do not remember the name.)

I noticed he was reaching for it.  I asked if I could premedicate before he stretched.  "Sure.  I know you don't want to have him wake up again."  Again the wink and smile.

"No.  This is just me being Jesus here."

"BEING Jesus?  What does that mean?"

"Now, don't go thinking I'm being blasphemous.  That's not what I was saying.  As a Christian, I'm to be the hands and feet of Jesus to those around me.  (Philippians 2:3-7) That includes taking good care of my patients and making sure they don't feel/remember when we hurt them.  You know, show the world who Jesus is."

He looked at me slightly askance.

"Testify, Andi.  Testify," the scrubbed in radiology tech said.

And the doctor had no comment to offer to that.

So....

In hindsight maybe I am an "in your face" Christian.  If being an "in your face" Christian means I pray with patients before procedures, and any time I sense they are scared or nervous about results.  I talk about my relationship with Jesus, and what He is talking to me about right now.  I put up index cards with the memory verse I'm working on memorizing next to the computer at the nurses station.  I talk to my coworkers about what Jesus means to me, and I will call us out to "have a little Jesus in our hearts" when we are being cranky and having a rough day.

I guess if you take those things into consideration...I must be a pretty "in your face" Christian.

And I'm okay with that.



As a Christian, I'm called to be like Christ.  Loving.  Gentle.  Compassionate.

But Christ was also honest.  He did not worry about offending people when He called them to Him. 

Sometimes I think as Christians we struggle with sharing the gospel, for fear that we will offend someone.  I worry that they will say I'm being self righteous or judgmental by saying "There is only one way to heaven."  But that is the truth.  The Bible clearly says "No man may come to the Father except through me."  (John 14:6-9) Translation:  The only way to heaven is through Jesus.  And Jesus calls us to confess our sins and profess Him as our Savior and Lord. 

If we claim Christ as the savior of our lives, yet fail to share that salvation message with others around us, then we are failing to do what Christ commanded us to do. (Mark 16:15) If I proclaim Christ is my savior, yet fail to show love to those around me, I'm failing to do what Christ called me to do.  (John 13:34-35)  If I proclaim Christ as my savior, and yet do not do my job to the best of my ability, (Colossians 3:23) giving God glory in every part of it, then I'm not doing what I was called to do.

Christ paid the debt for my sins.  He took the burden of my sins, even though I did NOTHING to deserve salvation, and carried them to the cross.  (Romans 5:8)  Because of His faithfulness and love, I have the promise of eternity in heaven.  He did not promise that the journey to heaven as a follower of Christ would be easy.  He promised me the exact opposite.  The Bible promises trials of all kinds.  And it promises strength to get through those trials.  (Philippians 4:13)

Not an easy journey.  Strength for the journey. (2 Corinthians 12:9)

So.  That's what God is talking about with me lately.  What's God been saying to you lately?

Car Conversations...

I laugh.

A LOT

And I laugh LOUD.

I can't help it.  My family is really funny.

As we were driving to Tulsa on Saturday we had two hysterical conversations.

"Babe!  There is a giant blue gorilla in front of David Stanley Chevrolet!  Let's go there and buy a car right now!"

"Sorry.  We can't go there until they add a giant inflatable crocodile."

Truly Gentle Reader have you ever in your life bought a car where they have a giant inflatable?  And why is it so often a gorilla?  I would like to see the statistics on improved car sales directly proportional to giant inflatable gorillas.

We were listening to Bookworm's iTouch.  We had it plugged into our car stereo, and it was on random shuffle.  Popcorn was singing along to one of the songs from her new Selena Gomez album.

"Do you already know all of the songs?"  I asked her.

"I know every word to every song on this CD" she stated proudly.

Not missing a beat, her dad added "And yet your math facts elude you."

The Early Bird Gets the Worm

I am an early riser.  I have a hard time getting out of bed in the morning, but once I'm up and about, I love mornings. I'm always happiest if I am the only one awake for a while...

My youngest is an early riser too.  I used to struggle with resentment about this.  After all, my early mornings were MY time.  She has driven me to get up before 6am for sure if I want to have a few minutes of total alone time before she joins me.  Now I love the few moments we have alone.  She sits and eats breakfast and gazes around.  Much like her mother.  We have deep conversations about all sorts of nonsense that really isn't deep at all.

My oldest child considers herself a late riser.  After all, she will sleep all the way until 8am at times!  Shocking, I know.  I like that she wakes a few minutes after her sister, as it gives me a few minutes with just her.  She is always full of information.  Recently it's been conversations about the book she's reading called Hunter Brown and the Secret of the Shadow.  Her Aunt Paula loaned it to her, and she is loving it.

I love to get my kids up, dressed and fed early.  Especially in summer.  I find that if I can feed them breakfast on the back porch, they will end up staying outside until close to noon.  Even on hot days.  They gradually acclimate as the temperature climbs, whereas if I wait until even as early as 8:30, they think it's too hot to go play outside.

I am dreading the rejection of toys.  In the early morning they often take their fairy dolls and play with them in the old garden and have an enchanted fairy forest in the overgrown weeds/carrots/volunteer squash plants.  I wish I could plant a microphone on them so I could know what they are saying.  Their childhood is slipping away right before my eyes, and while I love each phase they enter, I will be most sad when they move past the innocence of fairies in the garden.

See the little boy in the picture below?  That is our little neighbor boy.  He is over every time he sees the girls outside.  He is four and drives them a little crazy. However, they are always nice to him and act very interested in everything he has to say.  I think it's really sweet to watch them with him.  I hope it's a glimpse of how they are with the "other" kids at school.
 

April over at Coal Creek Farm is having a month of no TV.  It's a tradition they begin every June.  I'm tossing around the idea of adding it to our July plans.  Other than that, I really have no summer plans.

Just lots of swimming, grilling, and yard work.  Until it's too hot for yard work.  Then I will be bemoaning yard work.  I plan to laze around the house.  Make several visits to my Grandma.  Y'know.  Just normal summer stuff.

What about you?  Do you have any big plans for summer?  Maybe your plans are like mine, to just enjoy it as it zooms by.  Please share!

Mother's Day Conversations

*AHEM!!!*

This post is going to start with a serious case of bragging. Because, clearly, I am a hard worker, and you should all feel slovenly in comparison. So pay attention, people!

On Saturday, the day before Mother's Day I did the following tasks:
Washed windows.
Washed doors.Washed blinds.
Washed curtains.
Cleaned ceiling fans.
Washed every single light fixture.
Flipped mattress.
Washed all bedding.Cleaned my refrigerator. (I think we had enough penicillin in there to treat a third world country.)
Did 3 additional loads of laundry.On TOP of making monkey bread for breakfast, serving leftover hot dogs for lunch and running to Taco Mayo for dinner (where everyone requested bean and cheese burritos, and I wondered why I didn't make my own at home).


OH! And, I made a fantabulous purchase on my way from returning one of the girls' friends to her parents, and I will share that with you later.

But, returning to conversations regarding Mother's Day:

Bookworm is helping me wash the two windows flanking our front door. They are the easiest to wash, as they have no screen and can't be opened, so no yucky track or sill to clean dirt out of...

Dirks Bentley is blaring from the radio..."Gonna get a little bit siiidewaaaays..."


"So, Mom... Am I going to get paid for this?"

Me, looking slightly surprised, "Well, I guess you probably will. I hadn't really thought about it."

"I was just asking."

And she promptly disappeared to her room, where she only had to wash her own window, but she did make me a Mother's Day card...

Fast forward to 7:30. I have been cleaning since about 9am. I am running high on endorphins and bean burrito with a sense of accomplishment. I am hanging Bookworm's freshly laundered, curtains.


"Wow! My arms and shoulders are tired!"

"I bet they are! But, just think, Mom. You'll get all of this work done today so tomorrow you won't have to!"

Good to know, darling. Good. To. Know.

Next, we can consider this morning. Bookworm and Studmuffin got up bright and early and made me pancakes from scratch, with whole wheat flour (not even my recipe, and they were fabulous), fresh strawberries, and of course coffee.

Bookworm: Mom! Breakfast is ready! Only Dad & I worked on it...

And, I saw that to be true as her sister was on the couch under two blankets watching Disney Channel....


After breakfast, Popcorn addressed her primary concerns in all avenues of her life: Would she have enough time in her day to play.

"Um, Mom? Remember you don't have to do any work today..."

I look around and see the piles of blankets, sleeping bags from sleepovers and piles of unfolded laundry (I said I did them, not folded them all!) There is window screen (new rolls) on the table along with stacks of bills and papers to file or toss....

"Oh? Are YOU going to do all of the work today?"

Popcorn looks slightly distressed, "I don't know," in a voice barely audible, but with her most wheedling smile firmly in place...

"Well, do you think your daddy will do it?"

She ponders this for a minute...

She leans forward, then whispers conspiratorially, "Why don't we just pretend it's not there?"

I like this kid's style.

So, I am sitting here blogging, my children are locked in their rooms for the day after a fist fight following church (clearly my children are full of the Spirit following worship), and Studmuffin is folding clothes and watching Science channel. Next, I'm off to clean out my closet. Which may lead to cleaning out junk drawers in my kitchen (sadly, I have about five of those...hanging my head in shame here).

Because I want to.

And it will make me almost as happy as all of those things I did yesterday...

Because, sadly, not much makes me happier than a big list of all the things I've accomplished in one day.

I am a dork.

Conversations with Hard Truths

This morning in a random rabbit chasing conversation, we were discussing Santa, and how it drives me crazy that some Christian families make Santa this evil Jesus stealer.  It sort of gets my back up.  Now, I wrestled with the whole Santa issue when our kids were little and Brent said "Did you have Santa as a kid?  Yes, you did.  Did you think Christmas was about Santa or Jesus?  Did you stop believing in Jesus when you realized Santa wasn't real?  Do you really want to steal the excitement and magic of Santa from our kids?"

And with all of those questions with their obvious answers, we decided to do the Santa thing.

And it has been a blast.

Anyhoo, we were discussing the whole "evil Santa," which I was trying to do in code as our little Popcorn has never expressed any Santa doubts, and Brent was ignoring me and making the whole thing OBVIOUS, when Popcorn said, "Why would Santa be bad?"

So, my husband says "Well you don't believe in that whole Santa come down the chimney thing anyway, do you?"

And she replied, "Well, not since you said it that way."  And she gave this horrible little strangled giggle and big wet puddles formed in her eyes, but she forced this big stiff grin across her face and continued to say "It's okay," and fake laugh as I started to cry and berate my husband for being a big ole spoiler, joy stealer, and general Grinch in human form.

Grrr...

So, we talked about how MY MOM did the same thing to me.  She thought I was faking that I believed in Santa, and was appalled when I was devastated by her harsh truth.  Of course, I was like 12 years old or something.

So, all in all it was okay.  She will be sad for a while, but I promised to still give her Santa gifts, and she said she had wondered if he was real, but then figured there was NO WAY we would actually buy her the stuff Santa brought, so therefore he must be real.

And I must say that kind of baffled me, because I always give the big gifts from US and the little stuff from Santa, and Santa only ever brought one gift, not counting their stocking, so that logic doesn't quite balance out in my head...

After the kids went to their room to play Barbies, I told Studmuffin I really needed to do a blog on conversations, and how they can go so wrong.

I still like to spoil my kids by fixing their breakfast in the morning if I have time.  Even if it's making a frozen waffle.  I can spread the peanut butter and pour the syrup and cut it up just so, and they are convinced it tastes better if I do it.  I don't often have time, due to having to leave for work early, but when I can, I still like to pamper them.  Especially as I realize how fleeting their childhood is, and they will be gone before I know it.

Anyway, this week I had been unable to sleep past 4:30am, so I was up, fed, dressed, Bible study done before I even woke them.  I had made Bookworms breakfast, but Popcorn was having wardrobe drama and had ended up coming in the kitchen to slouch in defeat on her stool "I have nothing to wear."  I ignored her lamentation and said, "Do you want hot Grape Nuts, oatmeal, or blueberry waffles?"

"Waffles."

So, I popped her highly nutritious Nutrigrain frozen waffles in and ran to gather up a load of laundry to start before we had to run out the door.  I was in my bathroom sorting the piles when I heard, "Mom!  My waffles popped!"

I came into the kitchen carrying a basket of laundry, found her little body unmoved and still slumped on her stool and said, "Seriously!  Do you know how to spell 'worthless?'"

And without even a hint of a pause for thought she replied, "M-O-M."

And while I might ought to have scolded her smart mouth, I laughed and fixed her waffle with just the perfect amount of peanut butter (which is LOTS) and a small drizzle of syrup, cut it up just so, left the second one plain, as is her preference, and handed her plate to her.

Because sometimes you just have to laugh and enjoy the spirit in which something is said, and know their is no heart behind it.


 And isn't laughter with your kids one of the greatest treasures you can receive?

Car Conversations

Popcorn is not only highly active. She's highly talkative.

Not that I'm one to point fingers or anything, but seriously, that kid can talk...And coming from a self acknowledged chatter box that's saying something.

She is constantly making noise. It may be weird tongue actions with accompanying noises...Can you imagine "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" only hummed with your tongue waggling in and out of your mouth?

Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?

Neither do I.

Anyway, she's noisy.

Studmuffin: Popcorn is like a shark. If her mouth stops moving, she will die.

Nice. Studmuffin. Nice.

And, sadly, it is too true....

On that same car trip we were discussing Bookworm and her sense of drama. One of the ladies I'm in choir with has her in class this year. She is always telling me how sweet she is, and that she just loves her....I looked over at my husband and said, "Yeah. She's quite the little suck up." And we both laughed.

Because it's true.

But that's okay. Because I am too.

I can't stand for someone to not like me.

Seriously. Everyone must like me. If I think someone doesn't like me, I make sure to be as charming as possible to them.

I need them to like me.

Even if I don't like them.

Gentle Reader, I never denied having issues....

Anyhoo, back to the car conversation.

You see, I was just like her. I made sure all of the teachers liked me. I was friendly. I was charming. I worked hard, and I made sure they knew it I made straight A's. I smiled. I was generally likable...Yep. That was me. Andi the suck up.

So, I modestly said, "Yeah. All of my teachers just loved me."

"When you were in class," Studmuffin answered. I detected a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"What do you mean?" Sometimes I just walk right into his openings...

"You were never in class. You ditched every chance you got!"

"That's not true! I went to math and science. Y'know: The IMPORTANT classes that I actually had to be in to know what's going on...Oh, and typing. I barely squeaked by with an A in that class."

Wait!! Did I just age myself? I fear that my children do not even know what typing is...Much less a typewriter!

"Okay. So you went to math, science, and typing..." Again, Gentle Reader, I know this will distress you, but I felt nearly sure he was mocking me.

"Oh! And Spanish! I loved Spanish class!" You see, Gentle Reader, I was a responsible student! I only ditched classes that didn't matter to my future!

"How on earth did you get away with that? Why did they let you do that?"

"They didn't let me so much...I just needed a lot of bathroom breaks...And it really wasn't my fault if those bathroom breaks lead to trips to the library. I mean, what's wrong with going to the library? And, of course the library often lead to conversations with Mrs. Thrasher. I loved Mrs. Thrasher. I needed to talk to her, and keep her posted on my daily life. I'm sure her day was incomplete if I didn't visit her! And, while I was in yearbook I needed to take lots of pictures to have a good representation of the entire student body. This lead to trips to the art class. And the occasional trip through the grade school building...Where of course I had to catch up with my old teachers! So, clearly, it wasn't so much that I ditched class. That is a very strong statement. It was more a matter of I wasn't necessarily in the class I was scheduled to be in at the time I was scheduled to be there! Then, my junior or senior year, they decided that we had to have a hall pass to be out of class. And that stupid thing had my original/proclaimed destination on it. It was very challenging to make sure Mr. Mills didn't see me and say, 'Hey Jones-ey! Why aren't you in class? Let me see your hall pass.' Then he'd shake his finger at me and make me go to class...How irritating."

"Translation: You were skipping class."

"Okay. But you don't get it. The whole point is the teachers loved me. Bookworm gets that from me...."

Gentle Reader, I fear it is difficult to keep him on subject at times...

More Conversations with Kids

I haven't shared any riveting conversations I've had with my girls lately. We've had lots of fascinating life lessons, let me tell you...but here's a few to start.

We did sleepovers last night. Bookworm had a friend over and Popcorn went to stay the night with someone. Studmuffin was late getting home from work. I made a comment like this "I hope that handsome husband of mine gets home soon." Bookworm followed with "I know what's going to happen then...kissing....and then DANCING!"

Dancing? Dancing? We got The Sound of Music for Christmas. I think she's been watching a little too much. I laughed and said, "Kissing? Probably, but dancing?"

At this point her friend piped up "I'd pay to see that, and I want front row seats!"

Conversation #2
The girls both got up 15 minutes early on Friday morning. This left plenty of time to strip their beds so I could wash sheets before they left for school. It also gave Popcorn all sorts of time to share her vast amount of knowledge with me. Did you know that eating breakfast is important and very good for you? Did you know that if you use stain remover it will just make your stains fall off? Even if you didn't get it treated right away! And you can buy clothes that when you get stains on them, the stain doesn't stick... It just falls off! The list went on and on...Did you know...Did you know...

Me: Wow! You sure know a lot of stuff today!
Popcorn: Yep! I watch commercials!

Conversation #3

Bookworm has issues with piano. She doesn't like to practice songs that are hard. She never wants to be challenged. I blame this on her intelligence. Yes, I know I'm bragging, but I can tell you from experience here...If school has always came easy and required little to no effort to make all A's it's hard to understand why something should not just come to you easily.

I was the same way with piano. Only worse. I would play, mess up, bang my fists on the keyboard, yell "I hate this!" just in case someone didn't hear my little fit, and continue...Strangely, my mom let me quit piano...Wonder why?

I refuse to let my girls quit. And it really is due to school coming so easily. I want them to learn to work for something and persevere even when it's not easy. College was quite a shock to me, and I darn near lost my scholarship my first semester, because I'd never had to learn to study, or even put effort into things. Just being honest here. So, no matter how bad they want to quit (which is really only about once a week, the rest of the time, they practice without complaint) they will take piano until they're 19. Someday they'll realize that this is past adulthood, but don't tell them.

So, all that rambling to say Bookworm did not to practice her song The Weeping Willow. She kept wanting me to play it for her. I played it once, then told her she'd just have to struggle through a few times. This makes her itch. Seriously, when she can't get a song right off, she gets upset and has to scratch instead of playing the piano. This results in me getting exasperated, leaving the room so I don't have to look at her, and mentally counting how many times she practiced each song.

Well, this night was a rough night for her. I know you'd never believe this of a child of mine, but she has a very SLIGHT tendency towards dramatics. Like blown 20 million times bigger than my tendency. (Scary, I know. I'm dreading puberty.) I got so annoyed with her histrionics, I told her go to bed. She stomped away, screamed "NO!!!" And slammed her bedroom door. And began to throw things. Her dad went to talk to her. "You're not spanking me!" She said when he opened the door.

Oh, Gentle Reader, she was heading towards trouble...big time. She knew, we knew it, and yet she continued to throw her fit. Do you know what the root of this fit was? You see, when I told her to go straight to bed, she had NOT YET BRUSHED HER TEETH!!! That's right, this whole explosion was over missing brushing her teeth!

We had a not-so-gentle discussion about whether any of her actions of the night were going to get the results she wanted (teeth brushed, no spanking, etc.) She conceded probably not. She is grounded for 2 weeks from tv, computer and video games. I forgot she was grounded when I agreed to the sleepover, and didn't remember until the friend was already here. She has one week from tomorrow left for this punishment to be up.

Actually, I hadn't planned on sharing all of that. What I was going to say is this: She commented last night, "Hey! I like this song! It doesn't make me itch any more!" And she played it extra....for the fun of it!

Be still my heart.

Easter Weekend Conversations

Could someone please tell me what these lovely flowers are that appeared under my peach tree this year?

Yesterday we did "date" day with our kids...

Since Studmuffin has been taking Bookworm to softball 3 nights a week, he has individual time with her, and of course that means that I've had lots of time alone with Popcorn. Saturday I needed to go to the store and Studmuffin wanted to get some stuff at Lowe's, so we split up the kids and decided to take them out to eat after.

Is this the face of a kid dying to have her picture posted, or what? But, ain't she a beauty?

While we were eating at Arby's, a family of 4 came in. The mom was in quite the mood. She griped at her kids nonstop...It was one of those weird, uncomfortable moments where you just really want to go and ask her if she can hear herself, but I was also uncomfortably aware that there have been times when I've been that woman. Cranky for no reason. Irritable with my kids for no reason. It made me a little sick at my stomach...

We got in the car and I said "That woman was so awful to her kids. I'm sorry that I get cranky and talk to you guys sometimes that way."

Bookworm leaped to my defense. "Mom. That woman was RUDE. You are never that bad!"

Dear Lord, I pray she is right. But, even if she was lying to make me feel better, I appreciate the effort.

Now, this is the face of a kid willing to butter up her mama.

While Studmuffin and Popcorn were out eating, they went to Panda Express....

"Dad, I like orange chicken and sesame chicken. The sesame chicken is the one with hamburger seeds in it..."

"No, sweety. Hamburger seeds are baby calves."

"Yuck. I don't want to think about that."


Then, this evening as I was saying prayers and tucking in, and discussing the fun of egg hunts, Popcorn asked me if she had ever seen my natural hair color.

"No. I don't think so. My natural hair pretty much matches my eyebrows."

"Oh. Then, I've never seen it. Wouldn't it be weird if your eyebrows were curly like your hair?"

"How embarrassing. I would cut them then."

She replied without missing a beat. "Nah. If you had curly eyebrows, everyone would have curly eyebrows, so it would just be normal. Like a nose!"

Now. Is that a wild hair OR WHAT?

So, one last conversation for your reading pleasure.

I accepted a friend request on facebook from a friend in choir. We had briefly discussed that I really don't go there, but my boss wants me to do farmville, blah, blah, blah...

It turns out her husband used to be very active in farmville. She said he'd say things like, "I need to go tend my crops." Or, "I think I need to plant my watermelons."

I relayed this story to Studmuffin tonight as I was accepting her friend request. I had just gotten back from pulling some clothes from the washer to the dryer and grabbing some salsa....Because, seriously I have an addiction, and I love a good jar of salsa in the evenings...The chips are just a vehicle to get the salsa to my mouth.

I sat down and noticed that he had opened Evony Forever in a new tab...

Studmuffin said, "It's not like you can even eat those watermelons. By the way, when you're done with your blog, I need the laptop. I need to get my amulet on Evony..."



Yep. He's just a big ole kid at heart.

Conversations with Kids

Heard while driving down the road with my girls in the backseat.....

Bookworm was singing "How high can you go? How high can you go?"

Popcorn cut in, "It's how low can you go, not how high can you go."

Bookworm answered, "Well, how low can you go is the limbo, but I'm singing the HIMBO and it goes: How high can you go? How high can you go?"

Conversations

Wednesday was a lovely fall day.  The kids asked me to take them to the park.  Now, I have to admit that when we go to our park, I tend to just turn them loose and sit on a sunny bench and read.  However, it was too brisk to sit on a cold concrete bench, so I decided to join them on their adventure.  You see, our park has a little forest.  I was so pleasantly surprised at how lovely the little trail was!  It is definitely a photo opportunity.

Anyway, Popcorn found one of those pods with large seeds in them that some trees have.  I don't know what they're called.  But, no, they're not locust trees.  The pods were about an inch wide and the seeds were bigger than lima beans...Anyway, one of the seeds was sprouting.

"I'm going to go home and plant it!  Then we will FINALLY have a climbing tree at our house!"

"Honey, it takes like ten years for a tree to get big enough to climb."

"Fine.  Then I will wait until I'm 19 to plant it."

So that was odd reasoning...

"Why don't you just plant it now, and then when your kids are growing up they can climb it?"

"Ufff!  Fine!  Then I will have to be overprotective and go out and watch them...It will be so ANNOYING!  Gosh!"

And I burst out laughing.

Her brain is weird.

Peeps On a Stick

 Last week we finally fetched my girls from their grandparents after being away from home for eight whole days.  We met my dad at a nearby lake.  As we were headed out Studmuffin asked what we were doing about supper, "Because we will be getting there about 6 and you know the girls will be hungry."

So, we threw some drinks and condiments into an ice chest, grabbed a bag of charcoal and chips then ran into the store to grab enough hot dogs to feed a small army.  After all, my 16 year old nephew and one of his friends was going to be there too, so I figured it wouldn't be possible to have too much to eat.

Anyway, I have more to say about our trip to the lake, or rather to SHOW you about our trip, but today's post is not about the lake. It is about Peeps.

Or rather, S'mores made out of Peeps.  

 

Perhaps we should call them S'Meeps?

Why do all of my posts begin with topics that are irrelevant to my actual post?  Gentle Reader, it is entirely possible that you should pity the people who are frequently inundated with my circular conversations.

 So as we were dashing through the store, grabbing all beef hot dogs and buns, Studmuffin caught site of some Peeps.  "We should make S'mores out of those!"

 And so we did.

Hello! I'm finally back! A wire had rusted loose on our satellite, so alas, no internet for almost a full week. It feels great to be back...

Anyway, here's an inspiration for a blog I had while I had no internet. I had multiple inspirations, and jotted them down, but I'm afraid they will be stale by the time I can actually do them....*sigh*

Do you have problems with your snooze button? I do. Every dad gum morning my alarm goes off. Every morning I immediately hit snooze, and this is what follows:

"Dear God, yes, I know I need to get up. I hate getting up. I hate mornings. Help me change my attitu...plemppfjlsple..."

BEEP! BEEP!

Wham! I hit the snooze button. Again.

"Okay, God, I know I really need to get up so I can get my Bible study in before I start the business of the day. Help me have a good....zzzz"

BEEP! BEEP!

Wham!
"Seriously, I know I've got to get up. Help me be your hands as I care for my patients today. Help me serve them with...aaah"

BEEP! BEEP!

Wham! (do you see a pattern here?)

"Oh my goodness! I'm late! Dear God, help me to get around in time for work (I dash to the bathroom.) Help me manage the rest of the morning wisely (getting dressed and dashing to the kitchen to throw bread in the toaster.) Yes, I know I had plenty of time when my alarm beeped the first time (throwing whatever I can find into my lunch box.) Forgive me for my laziness (slapping on eye shadow and mascara, while trying to brush teeth.) I will do better tomorrow (kissing Studmuffin goodbye, waking the girls and kissing them goodbye, grabbing purse and dashing out the door.)

And so it goes. Every. Single. Morning. Whether I'm going to work, or need to get my rear in the yard to weed and mow and water and whatever else....I hit that blasted snooze button 3 times too many....

Okay, so maybe moving the alarm across the room sounds like it would help. Wrong. I actually tried this. I simply would get up, hit snooze and fall right back into bed...At least when it's on my bedside table I only let it beep twice before hitting snooze. And if Studmuffin's alarm is going off, I elbow him at the first beep to hit his snooze. Poor guy.

Well, there you have it. My conversations with God around my snooze button. Isn't your day better for knowing that totally pointless info about me?

Conversations and random facts

Today I was pulling Popcorn's hair up in a pony tail. She had one of those pony tail holders with the big balls on either end. She was swinging it around on her finger pretending that someone was getting shot out of it like a giant sling shot...I was having a hard time understanding all of the details, so I asked "Are you pretending it's a sling shot for your Barbies?"

Popcorn, with a sigh of patience and a roll of her eyes: No, Mom. I'm pretending there's bad guys after the Barbies....Barbies can never be the bad guy when you play. They are always smiling.

Oh.

Silly me.

And now a section of informative facts for your enlightenment....

It has been raining for 10 days straight.

We have had no clear skies, as determined by the National Weather Service since April 21.

It is supposed to "clear off" this afternoon.

It is supposed to rain again tomorrow.

My garden has a beautiful batch of grass growing in it....

I refuse to weed in red clay that sticks to your shoes like glue.

Going to the laundromat can actually be a very liberating experience....You have no excuse to be doing anything but reading because it's not like you can clean house while you wait for the clothes to finish washing! I think I just heard an amen from a few of you out there.

Many people said we'd have a black president when pigs flew. They were wrong.

100 days in to Obama's presidency: Swine flu....(Go ahead, laugh, you know it's funny)

Reading the Old Testament prophets is actually pretty fun.

Until you get to Isaiah and he is preaching judgment for all nations.....But I'm holding fast until I can get to Chapter 25 (I peaked ahead in desperation) when he resumes praise and promise of redemption....

My dog hates to be wet.

My cat hates to be wet.

Studmuffin's dog is even getting tired of being wet.

Popcorn has been playing outside in the puddles every time I turn my back.

Bookworm is reading Charlotte's Web for the umpteenth time in desperation for distraction from the endless rain.

Studmuffin is considering joining the YMCA so he can be guaranteed an available shower...

The YMCA is 15 miles away.

Today is National Nurse Day.

Stick a fork in me...I'm done for now.

Conversations with Bookworm

The other day I was listening to Bookworm reading to her sister....

"Oh look! How cute is that miniature pen snitcher?" Bookworm chirped.

"Oh, I love it! I wish we could get one."

"Mom, can we get a miniature pen snitcher?" Bookworm asked.

"Well, I'm not sure, let me see what it is..."

It was a Miniature Pinscher!

I had a good laugh about that one....And the answer was no.

Studmuffin is Half Samoan

Are you surprised?

My sister isn't. She realized that Studmuffin was "different" from the rest of his family at our wedding. Of course, hers was a strictly visual judgment. You see, Studmuffin's brothers have red hair. And they are both fair complected. She knew his father had died when he was growing up, so she just decided that he must have had a different dad than his brothers. That was a completely wrong assumption. They all 3 share the same 2 parents.

But, despite their completely shared heritage, Studmuffin is half Samoan.

That's right. Not only is he 25% veterinarian, he is also 50% Samoan.

He has to be. That is the only rational explanation for some very interesting facts. First, there's his complexion. He has brown hair, eyes, and has dark skin. When we were dating, and he spent many hours driving a cabless tractor he was as brown as a berry. His teeth and whites of his eyes practically glowed in his face. However, now he has a desk job, so he will never reach that level of tan again. Of course, I don't have a picture of those days, but I do have this picture:


Now, if that isn't the face of a Samoan, I don't know what is!

The second piece of evidence I present to you is this:

Studmuffin's parents went to Hawaii. I have seen the coconut they mailed to the kids. I have seen the photo of my mother-in-law with a handsome dark complected man who placed a suspicious necklace of flowers around her neck. Studmuffin was born the year that this trip occurred....Coincidence? I think not, Gentle Reader. I think not....

The third piece of evidence I would like to provide you with is this:


You see, Studmuffin has an unusual midnight snacking habit. Whenever he wakes up and is unable to return to sleep, he wanders to the kitchen and grabs his favorite midnight treat. He eats cans of pineapple. That's right. Pineapple. I find this totally bizarre. Who gets up and eats pineapple?

What about cookies? Wait. I don't buy cookies. Over the lips, onto my hips and all that jazz...Scratch the cookies.

What about ice cream? Wait. I don't buy that either. His cholesterol is sky high, so we buy strictly sherbet or frozen yogurt.

What about a bowl of cereal? Yes! We do have cereal! And it's whole grain, so that can totally lower those vicious LDL scores that are so frighteningly high....

But, no. He chooses pineapple. Truly, it's a mystery of epic proportions....

One that can only be explained by one answer.


My husband is clearly half Samoan.

Don't you wish you could be fly on the wall for the completely insane conversations we have in this family?

I mean seriously, I can't be expected to watch them at all times!!!

Remember my family went camping last weekend? It was so much fun, despite my being sick on Saturday. Both my sisters and their families were there, and my brother was able to come. Unfortunately, his kids are teenagers, and they chose a concert over a camping trip. We were bummed they couldn't make it, but I guess I understand the whole teenage thing...And, of course, my parents were there. My Uncle JimBob & Aunt Christina even got to come and show us all thier new camper!



Anyway, my family was the only one who didn't have a camper to sleep in. We had originally planned to stay in our tent, but since I had bronchitis the week before, we decided that Paula's kids and my kids could stay in our tent, and we would sleep on the couch in Paula's camper. The kids were nice and toasty with air mattresses, electric blankets, sleeping bags, and more blankets just in case. Plus, we had placed our tent between Paula & Dawn's campers, so that helped block the wind. The first night I worried myself sick that they were cold. It was getting down to the low 40s every night. Finally, at about 2am, I got out of bed, put on my coat, and decided to go check on the munchkins. I was immediately bombarded by our dogs. I had tied them near the tent, and they thought it was a great time to play. I stood outside their tent, they made no peep, and I decided that since I heard no coughing or sniffling, they must be fine. After all, it's not like I wanted to risk unzipping the tent, waking them up, and then everyone deciding that, yes, they were cold. So, what exactly I accomplished by standing outside their tent freezing my cheeks off, but it sure made me feel better, and I was actually able to sleep.



I had one simple rule while we were camping. Never go anywhere by yourself. We got there before Paula and her family, so that day the rule was that the girls were to always be together. After all, I had people to see, conversations to have, and games of Sequence to play. I certainly can't be expected to watch these kids at all times! They were free to ride bikes and scooters and play at the playground, and visit my folks' friends, who were camping there too, as long as they were together, and used good manners when they showed up at meals and bummed some hot dogs, marshmallows, and hot cocoa, I was happy. Yes, please and no thank you are the magic words as far as I'm concerned...Since my social obligations made me unable to watch kids at all times, it comes as no surprise that each and every morning I woke up, left the camper, and the above sights met my eyes... Yep. That would be 4 children. At the shore. By themselves. Fishing. Before the sun is even up. Is there anything wrong with this picture? Good. I didn't think so either. The basic rule was being followed: Nobody was being left behind. I didn't have any argument for that. By the way, my nephew Logan is the only one actually fishing. The rest of them are simply climbing on the rocks right next to the freezing cold water...Oh! And Logan caught a huge catfish one morning. His line got tangled up in somebody's line that had been broken, and there was a live catfish on the other person's line! How crazy is that?



Hey, and here's a question for you: Does every family bring a keyboard, microphones, amplifiers and guitars camping? Ours does. And we had a great time entertaining anyone willing to listen. We had a sing-a-long Friday night. Here's Popcorn singing "The Witch Doctor," by Alvin and the Chipmunks. This was actually after she stood on the table and shook her booty while my nephew sang....


"Hound Dog," by Elvis. Complete with hip gyrations...It was hilarious. Yep. Those 2nd children sure are shy!

Well, that's all I have to share with you! Unfortunately, I don't have pictures of me climbing into the lake to help my brother in law get his little Sun Dolphin off of the rocks as it was about to sink. With my baby on board! Hmmm...Maybe climbing in a 50 some degree lake is what led to my relapse?

I don't have pictures, but Bookworm was the only one who caught any fish to speak of. One evening my dad was coming to shore with his boat, and my brother was going to check his jug lines. Bookworm wanted to go out, so my dad agreed to go with her and David. It turns out they hit a school of fish on the way to the jugs, and she reeled in 6 big bass! Do I have pictures? No. I was cooking chicken at the time she came in with her catch, and by the time I wanted to take pictures, they were cleaned...And I didn't even think to take pictures of the big fillets they made. Pfpfpfpfpfpf...

Oh, and for anyone who's wondering, I'm a kazillion times better today. I left work early yesterday, and slept 2 hours in the afternoon, then slept all night. Then, I took another nap today. I feel like my old self right now, if I can pretend that my old self can't hear out of her right ear at all, and have a continuous whistling in that ear.

On a Lighter Note

Friday's post was heavy.

Sorry about that, but sometimes life is heavy.  And I feel the need to inflict it on you.

One day last week I was whining to my husband about one of the cases we had.  However, I was also expressing relief that it was during normal business hours.

Oh, did I mention we were chatting about this at the dinner table?  Aren't you jealous that you aren't at our dinner time conversations?

Anyway, Popcorn wanted to know where these drains were at that I was so stressed about.  Bookworm immediately said, "I don't want to know!  Just stop talking about it!"  Popcorn voiced that it must come out the ear...

"Not quite," and I chuckled.

"Oh.  I get it."  And she squirmed in her chair.  "How awkward."

"What?  Where do you think it comes out, then?"

"PLEASE!  I'm eating!  I don't want to know!"  Poor Bookworm.

Popcorn squirmed in her chair again, and said "You know..."

I started laughing.  "Not out of your bottom!  Is that what you thought!?"

"Well, if it doesn't come out of your ear or your bottom where does it come out!"

So, I explained that they drill a burr hole in the skull and thread a tube down into the brain to drain the blood accumulating.

I think she thought the bottom would be less horrific.

But she still ate a second bowl of chili, so it must not have been too horrific for her.

Conversations with Kids

I'm better now. I took a nap today, and when I woke up at about 2pm, I was a new person. Well, not really new, but my head no longer feels like it's going to explode. And I was actually able to taste my food at supper. Studmuffin picked up some Joe's Crab Shack for me as a belated birthday dinner. I didn't have to cook it, or do dishes, so it was delicious.

So, I haven't told you any kid stories lately. I know you're life has been sadly lacking. So, here's a story for your reading pleasure.

Well, the Christmas season is upon us. This has gotten our little family thinking of all sorts of Christmasy things. I know. You need an example....

"Hey, Mom? What's a virgin?"

Okay, I was rehearsing a song for a Taste of Christmas for our church, and Bookworm asked me this profound question in the middle of my song. I kindly asked her to wait until I was done, and then I would answer her. This allowed me to wrap my scrambling brain around a good reply....And ask for divine intervention to give me the proper words. My brain was whirling. Unfortunately, the song ended way too soon.

Me: Bookworm, do you know where babies come from?
B: Yes. (She points down there. Hey, she's a nurse's daughter, and she's seen kittens be born.)
Me: Ummm, yes, but do you know how the baby gets in the mommy's tummy?
B: Yes! God puts it there!

Okay, now I'm starting to sweat a little...

Me: Yes, but first the Mommy and Daddy have to make the baby. They have sex, and that makes the baby.

Yes I did! I said sex to my 8 year old daughter! I know, in hind-sight I'm wondering why I didn't use another word....like....making whoopee, or mating, or.....or.....anything but sex!

B: Oh. So, what does that have to do with a virgin?
Me: You see, Mary was a virgin. This means she had never had sex before. God's Holy Spirit put the baby Jesus in there, and she and Joseph did not have sex until after Jesus was born. So, Jesus was born of the virgin Mary. It was truly a miraculous birth.
B: Oh.......
Me: Do you have any questions? (Please, Lord, I really don't want to have THE TALK with her tonight. Give me words.)
B: Just one.....
Oh great, here we go...
Me: Okay, you can ask me anything.
B: Can little kids say "sex?"

Okay, not the question I was expecting, but I gotta say, I was relieved.....

Me: Yes, if you're asking me about sex, you can say it. But, you don't need to mention this conversation with any of your friends, or talk to them about sex. Come to me so I can tell you the truth. And, your friends' parents need to talk to them about it, just like I did you.

B: Okay.

End of conversation.

I gotta say, I've been expecting follow-up questions, but none have come.

Yet.

It's a girl thing.

I sent Bookworm to take a shower after her sister. They stood in the bathroom and talked. And giggled. And squealed.

"Bookworm! You need to get in the shower!"

"She can't get in the shower because her sister is in there," my wonderful man stated.

"What do you mean? She can shower while her sister is in there!"

"No, she can't. When they are in there together they just stand around. Or sing. Or fight. Or whatever. But they don't do what they are supposed to do." He seemed very frustrated by this behavior.

"It's because they're girls. It's how we bond. We bond in front of the mirror while we try silly hair styles, or paint our nails. It's what we do. You're just going to have to get over it. I think it comes with having ovaries. Or a uterus. Something. Anyway, it's normal. Don't worry about it. Some day they will have their deepest, most earth shattering conversations in the bathroom. Trust me. It's a beautiful thing."

He still doesn't get it.

Poor guy.

Conversations with Bookworm

Bookworm had a scrimmage last night against a 10 and under softball team (she's on an 8 & under team.) On the way she said, "Are you sure I'm supposed to be in my uniform? If no one else has on theirs, I'm not getting out of the car."

I said, "Honey, if anyone asks why you have it on, then say, 'My mom doesn't know what she's talking about, she made me wear this.' But I think everyone will be wearing a uniform. How else will you know who's on your team?"

Okay, that was a dumb statement...It's softball...Either you're on the field or at bat. DUH.

Well, we pulled up to the field and all of the other team wore their uniforms, but nobody on her team was wearing one. A little girl named Haley (she has 4 Haleys on her team) ran up to her. The first words out of Bookworm's mouth were, "My mom made me wear my uniform," before the kid could even say "hello." Then she looked at me like I was the craziest person in the world.

I swear, I'm clueless as a mom sometimes....It's a burden I'm sure all moms must bear....

Or is it bare?

Bear?

Bair?

Heck...who knows. It's a burden that I have...I know I spelled that correctly!