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Showing posts from February, 2014

Vivian

It seems only fitting that this week I tell you about Vivian.

Vivian is a little girl that we just started sponsoring through Compassion International.
And Vivian was also my great-Aunt, my sweet grandmother’s sister.

Who died one year ago this week.
I have seen the ads for Compassion sponsorship.


I have read blogs about Compassion trips.
But this post by Emily Freeman did. me. in.

I was sold before the video.
After the video?  I could’ve sworn I’d just seen a glimpse of heaven. (If you didn’t click on the link to Emily’s post,  do it now. If you read the post but didn’t click on the video-- DO IT NOW. I’m serious.  You won’t be sorry.)
I showed the post to Monte later that evening because I wanted him to REALLY want to sponsor a child too,

not just go along with it because of me.
 I said nothing of my intentions that were rapidly ramping up from sponsorship to flying to Uganda and adopting half  a village of children.
I watched him read the post and I watched him as he watched the video.

He s…

My Life In Numbers This Week

It has been some kind of week.

I have had few words this week. (which isn’t normal)
So I will explain my week in numbers. (which is completely not normal for me)



Number of total times the girls in our house have had lice:  3

No. Words.
Number of grey hairs on my head right now that I want to have colored but I can’t until we get clearance from the lice center:  472

Number of times I scared the dog laughing out loud reading this book:  8


Number of times I’d recommend it because of its LAUGH OUT LOUD funny and truth about marriage:  2,239

Number of times this bible study has made me say, “Whoa!":  7


Number of times I’d recommend it because it made me say, “Whoa!":  1,897

It will CHALLENGE the way you look at fear and doubt.
Number of stores we had to look in to find a white dress in February for my daughter’s dinner dance club:  ALL OF THEM

Number of times I’ve asked why she has to wear a white dress in February:  862

Number of times I’ve wanted to scream in frustration at a school …

What Love Is To Me

I am not so much for the hoopla of Valentine's Day.

I did love helping the girls when they were in elementary school create their boxes and cards for everyone in their class

from a purely crafting aspect, of course.

I am not a buyer of the Valentine's Day marketing scam.
I don't like chocolate.
I am not a jewelry hound.
I would not know what to do with a stuffed animal  if Monte were to give me one.
Unless it sang something obnoxious like, "Wild Thing"  then I would know EXACTLY what to do with it.
I don't use Valentine's Day as any type of gauge for my marriage.
Or love in general.
Anyone could buy me chocolate 
(if they didn't know me at all to realize I don't like it--not even a little).
Anyone could buy me a stupid tiger that sings a stupid song when you squeeze its stupid striped gut.
(if they didn't know me at all to realize how stupid I would think it is.)
Clearly I have issues. But none of that is real.
Or personal.


After 18 years of marriage…

We Just Sat There

We have been going to McDaniel's basketball games for over 3 months now.

We have noticed that a trend is in full force.

We get assaulted with intense music during warm-ups.
Assaulted.
Loud, violent, unintelligible noise.
Last night put me over the edge.
I drove a car load of the freshman girls on the team to the high school hosting the tournament.
(Our high school doesn't see fit to provide the freshman transportation  to ANY of their sporting events.  But that is another whole rant for another time.)
The girls decided they needed "pump-me-up" music for the ride to the game.
I braced myself for WHO KNOWS WHAT that meant  to the 14 and 15-year-old girls in my car.
A little shell-shocked as you can imagine  by 3 months of assaulting warm-up music.
They played Jonas Brothers.
And, bless their hearts,  High School Musical's "Get Your Head in the Game."
And oddly enough,  Taylor Swift's "Teardrops On My Guitar."
I have to say, I was not pumped up but I w…

Winter Gone Wild

You know, it seems as if everything is just a bit off kilter with all this snow and crazy cold and the fact that we haven't seen the actual asphalt of our road in over a week.


Or the mouth and eyes of our snowman.

Monte left early Tuesday morning on a business trip.
I asked him what I should do if I spotted a coyote in our yard while Nigel was out there doing what he needed to do.
Without hesitation Monte said,
"Grab a pot and bang on it."

Me: "That's what you would do if you saw a coyote outside right now?  You'd grab a pot and bang on it?"
Monte:"No, I'd kick it."
Me: "You'd kick a coyote?"
Monte:"Absolutely, to save my dog and protect my family."
Then there was a show of muscle flexing and fist making.
I decided to do some research on The Google because it seemed as if everyone in town had pictures of coyotes in their backyard or one very near them.

This problem was real.  And it wasn't going away.

Nor were there 10TV…

Weary and Entertainment Starved

I woke up to the sound of helicopters this morning around 6:15ish.

Half-dreaming, half-awake, I rationalized the obvious circling that the helicopter was doing

over 
and over 
and over, 
what seemed to be RIGHT ABOVE OUR HOUSE,
as a search for coyotes.
Because that is what you do in a city neighborhood when coyotes are starving because the winter has been the coldest and longest and involving so much snow and they start eating little dogs in their very own backyards.

I know.
Can you even imagine?!
It happened. 

I heard it on Facebook.
Or was it the news?
It was definitely in a text from Carisa  begging us to watch Nigel closely  as he does his business outside.
Good thing he is white and blends in nicely with the snow.
Anyway,

my brain made it rational for our local news to "track" the coyote's whereabouts via helicopter.
In the dark. 
For good TV, of course.
McDaniel came in our room and asked if the Russians were trying to bomb us

via helicopter.
Thank you, Monte, for giving…

Play Pretend

I went to my women’s bible study the other morning,

got my cup of coffee,
sat down,
opened my workbook and bible.
I noticed out of the corner of my eye,

someone waving through the small glass window in the closed door to the classroom.
It was the church’s preschool director.

She was waving me out into the hallway.
She explained that she needed to give a new family a school tour but had already promised to video one of the teachers interacting with the students for her student teaching.

That’s where I came in.
I got to video a classroom of 4-year-olds interacting with their teacher.

I wasn’t to speak.

Ahem.
Just keep the camera on the teacher as she explained and observed students

at the pendulum station,
building and knocking down a cardboard brick tower,
playing with a large toy dog,
and then a painfully long 3 minutes of trying to get the CD player to work at the listening station.
“Can you hear it now?”
“Now can you hear it?”
“How about now? Can you hear it?”
I have to admit,

I forgot ho…

Lice, Lice, Baby

Yeah, they came back.

Or, more than likely, they never completely left.
The good news is we actually got to use that $150 prescription strength highly flammable lice shampoo.
If that could ever be seen from any angle, other than financial, as good news.
I kept Ellie home from school because it had to stay on her hair for 8 hours.
It smelled like intense Pine-Sol with a kerosene-like finish.
But worse.
I swear it incinerated every hair in my nose.
The dog sneezed every time he walked into the same room as Ellie.
I started to light scented candles several times throughout the day and had to stop myself, hearing the cautionary words of our pediatrician to not even let Ellie in a room with a hair dryer running lest she burst into flame.
Ellie pulled out some leftover pizza from the fridge for lunch and I asked her if she wanted me to heat it up in the microwave.
She just took a bite of it cold and shook her head a bit and said,
“Kablooey.”
Oh yeah, right! I kept forgetting the constant  threa…