Making ends meet

So things are pretty tight financially speaking. I am just grateful that Dan the man is still employed. Others have not been so fortunate and are still trying to dig out. Its grim ya know? Being the optimist that I am I have been trying to scrimp and save. I have been cutting corners and it has been stressful and just not fun. I decided I needed a different perspective on things.

I made up my mind that this frugal new life style was not going to be a burden or a panic inducing. It could be fun. It could be a challenge! I like a challenge. I would see how many things I could do on my own. How much could we support ourselves the old fashioned way? I already do a lot of cooking but there were still things that I could do in that area to pinch a few more pennies. So I decided to take some of my favorite eat out meals and make them at home. I learned to make our favorite Indian dish, some Chinese, and make a pretty good homemade pizza. I decided to whip up some bean and cheese burritos with my own cheese sauce to compensate for Dan's love of Taco Bell. I froze them and the kids and Dan have really devoured them. Tomorrow I am going to do the same with breakfast burritos.

I also learned how to make homemade laundry soap. Now I saw the Duggars make it on tv and I saw some interesting methods on pinterest, but honestly I am too dang busy cooking all day to be melting soap on my stove top. Not gonna happen. Then I came across a powdered version that is just as cheap and takes minutes to throw together. I have been washing my clothes in it for a few weeks now and I am convinced it works just as well as the store bought liquid I was using before. Cha-ching.

The biggest leap by far has been in the area of diapering. I would cringe every time I picked up that huge case of diapers from Costco and those packages of pull ups from Wally world. In case you don't have a little one in diapers or disposable pants of some sort, THEY ARE FREAKIN EXPENSIVE! And the biggest shame of it all is they just go in the trash. I felt like I was literally throwing my money in the trash because mostly I was. Then a saintly friend of mine posted pics of her cloth diapers. I had always thought the whole notion was ridiculous and pretty gross, but after a trip to the diaper store and a walk through of my options I was sold. It is nothing like I imagined and I don't have to touch poop. Well, not on purpose anyway. It was a sizeable up front investment, but I think it has been well worth it to be done with the worry of running out and making a late night diaper run. I have also noticed that there have been zero rashes since we switched to cloth.

Since it was working so well with baby I decided to ditch the pull ups for cloth trainers. I have 2 that still wet at night so this was also a big time cost. I have been very pleased with the cloth trainers and the kids don't seem to mind. I wash a load of diapers and trainers with inserts every day since I don't have enough to last more than about a day and a half. I already do 2-3 loads a day anyway. So what's one more? I am happy to not spend the money and honestly the gross factor in almost nonexistent. Its really not much different that changing a disposable. They are super cute and better for baby and my wallet. They have really come along way. I only wish I had known about them with baby number 1. We could have saved thousands already. We could go to Hawaii.

Anywho, that is what I have been up to lately. Warshing diapers and making as much as I can from scratch. I thought I would try gardening, but that is not likely when I can't even keep a house plant alive. I really can't picture myself in gardening shoes......unless they were all blinged out. Now there is a strange mental image.....

A confession of sorts

My friend recently wrote a blog about confessions. She aired some of her secrets and I found it to be a very entertaining read. I thought I might follow suit with some confessions of my own. I ran them by said friend and she informed me that confessing to having a lack of hair skill and posting the evidence was weak. I had to dig deeper. I had to find something truly hideous to confess and after much deliberation I think I have found it. I may have broached the topic before but here I am ready to be severely  honest with you. I am sure you will all hate me when this is over. I am hoping that last blog on judging has prepped you.

I don't like your baby. Whew! There, I said it. Can we still be friends? Its nothing personal about your baby. I have an equal uneasiness around children in general. I find it easier to deal with the ones who are verbal. I can even handle your emotional out of control toddler better than I can deal with your baby. Let me explain.

Sometimes your baby smells funny. It could be poop, or formula, or whatever they ate. But its weird and I cannot deal. Often your baby is damp and or sticky. Being a recovering germaphobe, this causes me great panic. What is this substance? Please get it off of me. NOW.

Now I know what you are thinking. Don't you have 4 children? How stupid is it that you don't like babies yet you continue to have them? Did you fall and hit your head?

I never promised you that any of this was logical. It really makes no sense. You see, my baby smells like heaven and cake all rolled into one. I change my baby's outfit every time it is blemished. There shall be no remnants of meals, boogies, spit and or any other gross residue on my baby.

Maybe calling myself a "recovering" germaphobe was a bit of wishful thinking.

I go to great lengths and do much laundry to keep my little one spic and span. Now, is this practical? Well, no. Is it even necessary? Again, no. Should I see a therapist?......are you paying?

I get that its weird and horrible and I am an awful loathsome baby hater. I get it. Its really unflattering and I have sooooo many friends with babies right now. And they each think this blog is about them. And its not. Its about my inability to be the baby lover that all women are expected to be. Would this be easier to take if I was a dude? No one really expects them to be all mushy over babies. I just gotta be me.....and not hold the baby.

 I get this intense frantic feeling when someone walks into a room with a baby. Will I have to hold the baby? What if the baby smells? What if it cries? How long do I have to hold the baby? I wish it was like Thanksgiving and someone passed me the green bean casserole. Just a quick "no thank you" and no one batted an eye.

And here is the kicker. I assume you feel the same way about MY baby. I really do, which is partly why I go to some much trouble to keep my baby from being offensive. If you know me in real life I would like you to think about something. Go back in your memory and try to recall one instance where I have ever asked you to hold my baby. Right. It has never happened. I assume you are just as anxious and uncomfortable with my baby as I am with yours. If I don't like holding them why should you? So I never ask. You are welcome.

Then I went to the cloth diaper store and watched them fight over holding babies like they were made of diamonds. It was then that it hit me. No one on the planet seems to have this problem with babies but me. It is even more nonexistent among mothers. Great, I am a monster and I am the only one. Fan-frickin-tastic. My neighbor says she loves them too. Snot, poop, drool and all. I am mesmerized.

Now there are always exceptions to every rule. If I ever said your baby was cute....well I meant it. I will not say your baby is cute or adorable if I don't really think so. I have this thing about not lying. I will hold a baby if I have to. If I like you I will slap a smile on my face and take that little drool bucket while you go to the bathroom. But I won't enjoy it. And your baby won't enjoy it either because they can tell I am trying to determine how much life is left in that diaper and if and when they are most likely to throw up on me. They can see right through me.

So hate me if you must. I won't hold it against you. Maybe the Lord will one day give me a heart for babies. Maybe I will one day work in the church nursery and open my own daycare center. Maybe I will start baby sitting and writing books on the wonder that is baby spit. And maybe I will be six feet tall, and a size 2, and like blue cheese, and wear crocs................

The house with two front porches

I am not sure what the correct real estate term would be for my Grandparent's house. Its a tiny mill house that has been cut right down the center to make two small apartments. Two identical one room apartments complete with front and side porches. I have never seen anything else like it. It sits on a quiet southern street covered with moss hanging from tall trees. The road is windy and narrow, but all the roads are this way in the small mill town.

At some point my grandparents bought the house and it was converted into a one family home. The layout is still strange but my grandparents raised seven kids in that home. Its pretty amazing. Most of my fondest childhood memories are of that house. My parents were two crazy young ministry students trying to work and go to school with two small children underfoot. Most of my time was spent over at my Grandma's house. I loved being there.

Its the only place I have memories of my grandfather. He was a giant in my eyes. He was always ill and his room looked like a hospital room. He had cords running in and out of him most days and was always in his button up pajamas. I remember his room at the front of the house. I remember it being bright yellow. I don't know if that was the actual color or the effect of the sun streaming through the windows. He had these yellow and green love birds that he would let fly around the room freely. I thought this was awesome. He would let me sit on his bed and try whatever Grandma had brought him for lunch. It was usually black eyed peas or butter beans and he always wanted to share.

When he felt up to it he would get up and go for a walk in the yard to check on his tomatoes. He had tomatoes the size of my head. He also had chickens that my brother and I would tease and throw rocks at until one day the chickens turned on us and chased us around the yard. I ran for my life while my grandma and aunts laughed at the back door. The family dog looked like a black horse to me and I was sure the yard went on forever.

Sometimes Grandpa would talk real seriously to me. He would preach me sermons. I remember one of the last times I saw him. He was only slightly lucid. He wanted me to sit with him and listen to his preaching tapes. He even gave me one. I wish I still had it. I was, if I remember correctly the only grandaughter at the time. My older boy cousins would come over to play and we would wreak havoc until our parents came to pick us up. I can still hear my grandpa's voice bellowing across the house "MICKEY!" I never heard him call my grandmother by her given name.

I remember my Great-grandmother who always sat in her rocking chair. She was such a tiny frail woman, but she had so much spunk. She would bite off the ends of french fries and spit them out like they were a cigars. My grandmother would comb her hair and care for her and my grandfather day in and day out until both of them left her. Now she still lives in the same house and her daughters comb her hair and take care of her.

I don't know what the future holds for that place. I miss the Christmases, Thanksgivings, and just the day to day noise and chaos of it. Maybe that is why I wanted so many children of my own. I wanted to recreate some of the warm feelings I had in that odd little house. I moved away from grandma's house when I was little and I never stopped wanting to go back. It was the only place I wanted to be for the longest time. I hope it stays in the family. I hope there are many more pleasant memories to be made there and that the rest of my family loves it as much as I do. I know it has impacted all of us in different ways, but it will certainly stay with me forever.

Shiny happy people holding hands

I think I need a vacation and I am not saying that because I have four kids and homeschool. I am saying that because sometimes this world gets just too intense for my tender sensibilities. I do my best to live inside a well constructed bubble of denial, but sometimes life creeps in and it pops. And this irritates me. I work really hard to be unaware.

There are lots of people who would like me to be more in tune with reality. I would like those people to shut up, bless their hearts. They are just making more work for me in the end. Their efforts are in vain. I just don't like where this rock is headed figuratively speaking. It bothers me.

Now my rooted in the "real world" friends think I am doing myself a huge disservice by filtering and blocking things out. They think I should toughen up and stop being such a big baby. That's me apparently, a big ol thumb sucking baby. But I think that there are benefits to living in my bubble of denial. There are benefits to remaining a softy. After all, there aren't that many of us left.

Numero uno. I can sleep at night. I am usually blissfully unaware that the government is trying to control me through my dishwasher or that some other country is building a bomb to obliterate and my entire city.

B. I have so much more free time to pin things on pinterest or to write these deep profound blogs of mine since I am not listening to Glen Beck or watching CNN. I have time to perfect my brownie recipe and contemplate cloth diapers. In my mind I am somewhere circa 1950 except for the whole cold war thingy.

359. It is easier for me to focus the few things in this world that are good. I am a hopeless optimist and whether you like it or not YOU need me. I have a firm grip on sugar and spice and everything nice. So just when you think everything is in the toilet here I am with a little sunshine to throw your way. I am here for YOU. Its just me and Jesse Jackson keepin hope alive.

So just quit it already. I know whats going on to a greater extent than I let show. Its a perfectly crafted carefully balanced way of maintaining my sanity. Oh and did I mention my husband is a cop. I don't even want to imagine the kind of mess I'd be if I just let my mind stay on that too long. So the rest of you can go on worrying and discussing amongst yourselves the various important and pressing issues of the day. I will make you some cookies to snack on while you debate. All I ask is that someone give he a heads up when the zombies are coming. Other than that lets keep it light. Like marshmallows. Mmmmm marshmallows.

Polyticks

I am not into politics. (Gasp!) I know this came as quite a shock. I am sure that I am probably the worst citizen ever. I don't even watch the news (double Gasp!)
I don't like the fighting and ugliness that happens when seemingly normal people start a conversation over "issues". And they are always current or pressing. I want a brownie. That is current and pressing for me right now.

In light of the whole "lets all hate Rush Limbaugh" thing thats happening I felt the need to visit my most hated topic. Just for a minute though and then I am out.

I don't like Republicans. I do not relate to people in suits with hair that doesn't move that look like they should be reporting the news. I don't like the name calling, pretension and self righteousness I see from the right. That being said, I do agree with a lot of their views on these current and pressing issues. BUT, there is a lot to be said for delivery.

I don't like Democrats. I do not relate to people who are against most things I am for or vice versa. I do not want to be a socialist or hippie and if either of those descriptions is offensive well..... you know I don't watch the news. I don't want to legalize weed. I don't want to pay for welfare. I have a whole different take on all that stuff.

If there is an in between than I am probably it. I am by no means Liberal either. I may be conservative, but not the denim skirt, Crystal Gail hair conservative. I also think there are a lot of people like me who don't want to claim a party because they are all so.......wrong. I want to see people voting because they believe in the person they cast that precious vote for. Most of the time it just feels like the better of two or three evils.

America is cocky......and fat. We aren't the heroes we think we are and if you'd ever been anywhere outside your hometown you would know as much. I am a veteran. So no, I am not military hating, but if you ask most of the people who are active right now they would tell you they are not living the life they want to. The economy is in the crapper so why would they get out? Living paycheck to paycheck is better than being unemployed.

I guess I just want someone who can speak for me and right now there isn't anyone one out there that does. What about you? Is there anyone in Washington who remembers what its like to have medical bills, mortgages, and no money left over? If I wasn't so busy cooking, cleaning and homeschooling maybe I would run. I guess then I'd have to start watching the news.....deal breaker.

Shake that

I hate to admit it but I have caught the Zumba bug. As much as I detest anything trendy I could roll my eyes no longer after last week's aerobic adventure. It was SO MUCH FUN.

I know, I know

Everybody and their sister is doing zumba. Everybody and their cousin is posting about it on the facebook and pinterest.

I know.

But let me tell you, there has never been a better excuse to shake your backside in the name of fitness. Its like a club, but in a gym and in my sanctified state clubbing is a thing of the past. I do miss the dancing, deep in my heart. So now there is an outlet for the tiny dancer inside me. (yes I do love Elton John thanks for noticing)

My friend is super good at it too. SHE has hips. Now I have an ample everything else, but what I do not have is hips. I don't know if you are aware, but hips are the main ingredient in latin dancing. She has the perfect dancing hips and she knows how to work 'em. If I were to somehow receive hips from on high I would most certainly need a booklet or instructional video to master the sway and pop that my friend achieves with hers.

It is a beauty to behold.

And I do. The class is so packed and I am so short that if I don't watch her backside I am more lost than Dan the man in the mall. At least when I watch her I can perform some interpretation of the correct moves. I do have rhythm, you know. Just not hips

So I am gonna go again tomorrow and try not to dislocate anything as I compensate for my lack of womanly shape. I will have a blast as long as I don't look in any mirrors or through the giant window. There are gawkers ya'll. Big meat head gawkers, but I am not worried. They aren't looking at me. They are checking out my friend!

When cousins come to town

So my cousin took the long trek from south kakalaky to visit us this week. It was so nice to hear a southern accent again and have someone agree with me that a shopping cart was indeed a buggy. There is strength in numbers. True to form we had to cram in all kinds of sight seeing because we just have to show our guests a good time. We seldom have house guests so we have to do it up when we are blessed with a visitor. The kids just LOVED my cousin. My son even asked for him last night when Dan the man woke him up to go to the bathroom. Strange, but cute nonetheless.

So our first outing was to Crown Pointe and Multnomah falls. They are kinda like the obligatory sights when you come to town. The views are breath taking. You can see the the Columbia river and the gorge forever on a clear day. The only problem is that in order to get the lovely view you have to drive up some pretty windy roads. This did not cooperate with my pregnant stomach. I was never more happy to be out of the car and on solid ground then when we arrived at Crown Pointe. The steep curvy roads apparently make cousins sick also. So be warned.

Multnomah falls is just beautiful. It doesn't matter how many times I have seen it I am still in awe of its beauty. I am not one for really admiring nature, but you just can't help but give an ooooh and aaaaah when you see the falls. The kids loved it and Lorelai and I enjoyed an overpriced snow cone while the others hiked up a bit farther to get a better shot. At the end of the day I was so pooped I couldn't stand it. Chasing around a 2 year old can wear you out. She just wanted to walk. Sitting was not an option for her.

My cousin took lots of pics and bought some souvenirs in the gift shop. It was nice to have Dan there to help corral the kids and do the driving. We went lots of other places, but that is a blog for tomorrow. Today we are recuperating from all our running around. The preggo needs a day of rest. And so it shall be. Don't bother calling. We are pretending we aren't home.

My little brother

I have a brother much to most people's surprise. I usually don't talk about him and since most of my family lives on the East coast it doesn't really come up. He is in the army and has been for a very long time. He is always away and has served 3 tours in Iraq. My family is very proud of him and very grateful that he has survived much of the unmentioned conflict.

He never really talks about what he has seen over there. He hints sometimes, but completely withdraws and changes the subject. Its just part of his job. A lot of his life is a mystery. He likes to keep to himself. He has built himself a surrogate family of friends and acquaintances from the military and some from high school. They are his circle and they know him best. All of his blood relatives are left to guess. We know a bit about him from before he signed up. He is an insanely talented musician and has a penchant for flashy clothes. He also has had a substance abuse problem since he was a teen. He has an addictive personality that he gets honest and I wonder if he really knows who he is.

A while back I would get these phone calls in the middle of the night at like 2 or 3 in the morning. It was my brother. He was totally wasted and wanted to have a heart to heart. It turns out he was drunk dialing every family member he had a number for. I was 2nd or 3rd on the list. He would rant about how I didn't know him and I couldn't handle knowing his business. He confided a few things to me that I doubt he even remembers. He would go on about God and our parents like he had the answers for everything, but it was strictly a one way conversation. Any time I would question his motives or actions the phone call would abruptly end. Those phone calls also ended. I don't know why I lost the privilege of being drunk dialed, but it was kind of sad. That was really the only contact I had with him. And now I am back to none.

I skyped with him and my parents the other day. He was amazed to see how much my daughter had grown. He sent them Christmas presents for the second year in a row last year. I thought he might be coming around. He also has mentioned he would visit, but I won't hold my breath. He hadn't seen my daughter since she was four. She is now nine. The only reason he met her then was because we were both in town to visit my parents at Christmas that year. My other children are still strangers to him having never met their uncle.

I know you are probably thinking there is something I could do to reach out to my brother. I thought that a decade ago too. I have emailed, Facebooked, sent letters, pictures and gifts. He is not the least bit interested in being a part of my life or letting me have the smallest peek at his. So I have a brother, but I really don't. I hope he doesn't wake up one day realizing he has a whole lot of family that he discounted. He has ignored us and abandoned us. I also hope his surrogate family of drinking buddies and army friends make him happy. I would like for him to know my children. I am going to have baby number 4 soon and I want my children to be a part of each others lives. I want them to be close.

I don't know why my brother chooses to live this way. I can only imagine he has some issues that he needs to work on. I am not going to chase him down and beg him to make time for me. I am going to raise my kids and love my family. I have done all I could, but life goes on. I do have a life and a very full one at that. But if the day ever comes I think I could make room for a brother.

What have you been doing all day?!

I would describe myself as a motivated person. I like organization and order. I get asked a lot about how I fit everything into a day. How do I do all the stuff I am proclaiming to do? Am I lying? Its not like most of you will drop by my house on a random day to see if indeed there is laundry in the machine and the dishes are done......but you could. Because I am a machine.

Yes I am a machine. I am a homeschooling, house cleaning, cooking machine. I just don't do windows. I have lots of friends who aren't machines though. They struggle with organization or staying on task. They are the ones asking me how my house is so clean when I have three kids home all day. I feel bad for them a lot. Its not that hard when you mindlessly do it. I imagine what it must be like to have to remember to do stuff and fight to keep focused. I want them to know they are good moms. Not all moms are machines. God didn't make us all the same, but you already knew that.

Sometimes I see blogs about machine moms. They give advice about all the things they do without thinking. I wish they would give advice about how to remember. I think that is the hardest thing for my human friends. One thing leads to another and the day is gone and everyone is asking where dinner is. And by the way, my house isn't always clean and I certainly don't do it all alone. No, I don't have a cleaning lady. My last name is not Hilton, but I do have those three kids I mentioned.

I pay the oldest for chores and the middle one hasn't risen to the level of quality I require to get money, but he is only 5. The 2 year old, well she is about to learn how to clean also because baby number 4 is on the way. There will be no slacking. My husband also helps. I am not of the persuasion that I am a failure as a home maker if he has to lift a finger. It is a cooperative effort to keep this place running. I do most of it, but delegation is key.

I am also a schedule freak. I have meals, naps, and outings all happening at the same time every day. My craziness only allows me one trip out of the house a day. It makes me feel overwhelmed to have more than one appointment or errand. Alas, a drawback. I think I mostly just want the people I know who struggle where I thrive to appreciate their own gifts. I want them to acknowledge their own creativity and our differences. Most of all I want them all to hire a cleaning person so I can visit sometime. Or maybe we could just go out?

Holidays and such......

Its these holidays that get me down. The 4th of July is Dan the man's favorite, but they are mostly the same. We never celebrate like everyone else. Its always on a different day or time. Birthdays, anniversaries and yes even Christmas happen when we get around to them. I kinda feel like a dork being done with the 4th of July before anyone even started, but that's how it goes I guess. I plan our whole life, even federal holidays around his schedule. It doesn't matter if the mail doesn't come or the trash doesn't get picked up. Dan the man will be at work.

Its been like this most of our marriage though. I am kinda used to it by now. I wonder when the kids will figure it out. My oldest thinks we are weird, but I don't think it bothers her. By the time Dan gets normal days off most of the kids will be older and probably think our family get togethers are lame. I am thankful that Dan gets to do something he loves though. Them's the breaks.

So I am sitting here in the 4th of July waiting for him to come home. This is what Christmas, Thanksgiving and every family birthday will be like. Until......whenever. I guess the dates really don't mean as much as coming together as a family. I hope our kids understand that. I hope the folks in our lives don't hold our strange schedule against us either. We do our best. I know its not the same when I show up to parties and stuff with the kids in tow and no Dan. Trust me its no fun for me either, but if I waited for Dan to be off we'd never go to anything. The kids would be stuck in the house all the time and that makes for a long day for me. Most of the time I am a single parent and its really hard. Some days its a breeze and some days its kinda sad. Today is kind of a mixture of both. I hope people realize how hard Dan and the other cops work. I hope today when they are calling to complain about stuff they notice that they have the day off and some folks don't. Maybe be a bit more patient and try to enjoy your holiday without all the drunkeness and crap. Just try.

The drama llama has come to facebook

I recently encountered some cyber drama. Someone.....deleted me on facebook. Now I know what you are thinking. "

Why would anyone ever delete you?

I know I know. But it really happened. Really.

This left me with many unanswered questions. Here they are in no particular order

1. Why would anyone delete me? I am awesome.

2. Who could question my awesomeness especially if we have met in person?

3. What could I have possibly done?

4. Why didn't they just talk to me?

5. Did my profile pic make me look fat?

So while I pondered these questions and stressed about facebook since my life is so small, I came to a conclusion. I may never know. Surely if this person wanted me to know the reasons behind this heinous deleting they would have told me. They would have spoken up. I can only guess and really who wants to go there? I would guess the worst so I decided I would try to guess the best. I would guess things that would not in the end leave me feeling like a loser. Here are a few of my guesses.

1. I am so cool that they couldn't handle my coolness/awesomeness.

2. They have joined the witness protection program

3. Someone hacked into their page.......and only deleted me.......wait a sec

4. I am a dog person and they like cats.

5. They are intimidated by my mad blogging skills

These are just guesses and I am not going to waste anymore of my time worrying about a relationship that obviously wasn't reciprocated. I think I have all but worked this out of my system, but in the future if you decide to delete someone try some empathy. If you are really done with someone at least do the right thing. Break up via text.

The high road

I just finished reading this great book. It has really changed the way I think about people and God for that matter. Its called Blue Like Jazz. The author is as real as it gets. He's from Portland and a lot of his stories are built around the local haunts and college campuses. I went and visited his church recently. He isn't the pastor or anything. I don't even think he was there. It was a strange experience for me. Being surrounded by people who didn't have a churchy bone in their bodies. People who came as they were. I was a little out of my element. It was unfamiliar territory.

The message the pastor gave that day rocked my world. He talked about how we shouldn't judge or try be evil demolishers. He made the point that our small minds cannot possibly comprehend what God may be doing or peer into the heart of a man. In other words, we have no idea. We are just supposed to love people. We aren't out to change them. Only God can do that and he certainly doesn't ask us to do things only he can do. We can't rid the world of all evil, but we can take some soup to a sick neighbor. We can cut their lawn if they are laid up. We can give without abandon or worry to his house and his people because we trust.

I must admit this is really a tough command. Just love. Don't fix, judge, criticize, but just offer love and introduce people to Jesus. They don't have to believe or get saved on the spot. He will speak to them and show himself real. We are just supposed to be that light so that people can see a glimpse of something better here on earth. I want to be that way. I want to love people I don't agree with. I want to love people who have hurt or slandered me. I want to be like Jesus. I want to accept people with all their faults and hope they can overlook mine.

I don't think many Christian people do that. I know I didn't experience that growing up in church and my adult time in church has been more of the same. I don't want to give up on people or on churches. I want to be long suffering like him. He is gonna have to help though. The high road is hard to take. I will need supernatural ability for that one. I can only hope that I get it right, or even close. I will extend grace even when I don't want to. Even though I don't get it in return. Lord help me.

You got me feeling emotions......

I want to talk about your emotions. With the onset of the first trimester emotions have been at the forefront of my mind. Will they overcome me? Will I end up acting crazy like I did the last three times. The answer is.....probably.

I got to thinking though. Emotions are not all bad. I know quite a few Dr. Spock like stoics who are very proud of how little they emote in their everyday lives. I think its mighty sad and here is why. It has nothing to do with comparisons to myself. Yes I am very emotionally expressive. Logic is not my friend, but there should be a balance. Where I may err on the side of emotional show others may err on the side of logic. Neither is trustworthy. For example, everyone knows at least one person in their lives who can justify anything. They have a logical argument for every ridiculous thing they believe or callous way they act out. On the same token you also have that person in your circle who rejects any logic and bases everything on how they feel. They are both unreliable.

If I have read my Bible correctly, and I have, I see that the Holy Spirit is supposed to be leading us and helping us make our decisions. We are supposed to be seeking out answers through prayer and reading the word. It seems odd that I know so many Bible believing folks who eschew emotions. God either created us in his image or he didn't. Emotions are a part of that package. Most of the major decisions in our lives are made based on emotions. I doubt anyone drew up a chart or examined an excel spread sheet to decide if they would marry their spouse, have children, or even come to a spiritual conclusion. We go with our gut or our feelings.

So why do people hold such little regard for feelings? Is it because they can be chemically altered? Logic is just as susceptible to our biology as our feelings are. I think maybe people think they can control their logic. There are a lot of control freaks out there and where you find a stoic you usually find a control freak. Emotions go where they will. You can't help how you feel and when you feel it. It doesn't mean it should be dismissed though. It is part of your divine makeup. It has a purpose and the Holy Spirit uses our emotions as a tool to get our attention. Ever had a gut check or an uneasy feeling about something? That is something divine at work using a built in tool to protect us. We have to learn to listen to both, but most of all our Father who is always trying to get a word in. Maybe if we could ignore feelings and logic long enough we might find some truth entering our hearts.

When was the last time you shared someone else's emotions? We all know the last thing we want to hear when we are hurt or broken is some logic. The word says we should cry with each other and laugh with each other. We are supposed to feel with each other. That is what connects us. It is a bond. You look at someone differently when they have volunteered to take on your pain. Sometimes we need some logic when we are overtaken by a sea of emotions that we can't manage. So if people don't relate to you or "get" you then I would examine how much emotion you are sharing. If people recoil when you start to talk or it seems people don't want to listen then maybe you share too much. We need to learn to relate to each other with some balance and empathy. We are all people and mostly the same. If we all let down our guards once in a while we might all be pleasantly surprised.

Brown thumb

This is my strange flower bed. I think we live in some pre-industrialized neighborhood where they don't know how to make utility boxes inconspicuous. Last fall I attempted to annihilate this weirdo bed as it was overcome with weeds. What I didn't realize was that the previous owner of this home was Johhny green thumb. He had planted a year round garden and installed a drip system. I discovered the drip system as I was passionately hacking away at any and all plant life in the weed laden eyesore. Suffice it to say there is no longer a drip system. May it rest in peace.

So this year I waited to see what survived my massacre. Fortunately some pretty flowers came up and I decided to plant some so they could all be friends. I thought maybe this would somehow make up for the killing of the drip system. I put down all new mulch and weeded and this is what I ended up with. I think its kinda pretty. Maybe if you squint a little you won't see all the utility water obstructions.

This is another view. I managed to only slaughter the bottom layer on the planter steps. The middle and top are safe. Drip system and all! There will be pretty purple flowers in the middle as soon as it gets a little warmer. My tree is pretty cool too, but its still a little nippy out for it.

This is my door hanger. I just can't pass up a good door hanger. It makes things so festive.

This is the best part of my yard by far. I completely scored a snoopy Easter flag. I know, its wonderful. I just love it. Any decoration with a peanuts character is all right by me. I have little flags for all the other holidays too and yes they have peanuts characters. This one is special because it had snoopy. I shall leave it to my favorite child. Yay spring!

If I ever feel better....

I have had a ten year cold. Ok I might be exaggerating, but I certainly look and feel like I have aged ten years. When my little angel tells me I look terrible I know I am in trouble. My baby always tells me how bootiful I am. Not this week though. I feel like I weigh a million pounds. I have no energy and I have a headache that doesn't respond to pharmaceutical remedies.

My daughter has taken this golden opportunity to be in charge. She has declared that she will take care of everything. Translated, she will be bossing us all around. Logan didn't seem jazzed. I didn't have the wherewithal to roll off the couch so she won. She decided she should do the cooking. I begrudgingly agreed to let her make pasta. She can boil water and heat sauce. She did a great job. I may have a full time cook on my hands.

She really rose to the occasion. I had excellent care. Dan could learn a thing or two from her. Its really true about how girls are just made to nurture. Whether or not they like it they are better at it than men. I am still feeling like I just hit my 60 year mark, but things are getting better. This thing seems to be hanging on for dear life, but at least I know that the laundry will get done, the baby will get changed and dinner will be made. Thanks Vanessa.

Why I left my church.

We were smitten with our church. We loved every minute of it. We woke each Sunday with an excitement. The feeling in the air was electric the second you crossed the threshold. We were sold. We were faithful in attending, tithing, and saying yes to anything we were asked to do. But something changed. Something started to shift.

It had probably been happening all along. We started to notice that some of the faces we had grown accustomed to weren't around. Everything was shrouded in secrecy. We didn't want to be nosy, we just wanted to serve so we didn't ask questions. We started to hear rumors. I have never given much stock to rumors so I let it go in one ear and out the other.

Then things began to change out in the open. The clothes, the music, the messages. It seemed like everything was transforming around us and the only option was to get on board or get out. Change is a fact of life. The way church looks changes about every 5-10 years. Remember when we all had projectors with transparencies? Remember when we sang from the redbacks? Things change and its ok. One generation wears hats and suits to church while another wears ripped up jeans and I don't think either is wrong.

I found myself restless on Sundays. I sang and enjoyed the worship, but when it came to listening to a message I hesitated. I roamed the foyer, I picked up the kids early and sometimes just left. I was losing that excitement for church and I didn't know why. Maybe I didn't want to admit why. What kind of Christian am I anyway? I can't preach? Who am I to be so critical? So I forced myself to sit there.

I decided the answer was to get some teaching outside of church. I listened to tv preachers and downloaded podcasts for my ipod. I started to get charged again and I started to look around. The more of the word I heard, the less I was happy with my home church. Why couldn't I have this on Sunday morning? I started to realize Sunday morning was no longer about feeding me. I had to make a decision.

I never wanted to have a "meeting". I hated that. How could I say all the things inside me? It would hurt people. I might offend. Then I was reminded of how offended people were at Jesus. He spoke his mind. He told the truth and not everyone liked him for it. I had to give it one last chance. I had to speak my heart. Maybe if they heard me and saw my desperation they would change. Maybe if they knew how much I wanted to stay, how much I still loved the place they would change. Or maybe they had already changed and it wasn't what I was after.

I got my meeting.

I got my feelings hurt.

I got stonewalled.

We had to walk away. It is painful to look for another church. I don't want to do it, but I have needs and my family has needs. I have to find a place that is willing to meet them. I pray the Lord will lead us and guide us. I pray for all the folks who are still hurting. The ones who have left and the ones who remain are all good people. I still love them all. I left the church. I didn't leave my friends.

I hope this answers any questions anyone might have about why we aren't around anymore. I pray that our decision would not sway you, but that you would closely listen to what the Holy Spirit is telling you. I believe we were there for a season and that season is over. We hold no anger toward anyone. It will take time to recover. The wounds are still fresh, but my God is a healer so I give it to him.

The ride along

Not every department does ride alongs. I can fully understand why. You go along to observe real police work, but really you are just in the way. People ask a bajillion questions while the officer is trying to drive, use the computer and listen to the radio at the same time. That is how Dan says most people are on ride alongs, all chatty.

I, however, am not. I am a bundle of nerves.

I think if maybe I talk too much he will crash the car or miss something important on the radio. I am not chatty at all. If you know me in real life you would understand what a stark contrast that is to my personality in general.

I mean I blog for pete's sake. I have lots to say.

So I went on my ride along. It has been four years since my last one and I figured I was due. I, under no circumstance, enjoy riding along. It scares the poop outta me even if nothing happens. I kinda feel like its my wifely duty to every so often check in on Officer Dan and take a general interest in what he does all day. I want him to notice the nuances of my tater tot casserole. I guess the least I can do is put on a kevlar vest and jump in the car with him for a few hours.

This time was better. I went into the day with visions of my last ride along. Bloody faced Mexican men fighting over some girl.....who happened to be too young for either of them. Nonetheless they were fighting and on took off his belt and decided to us the metal end to tear up the other ones face. It was a bloody mess. I remember this from four years ago. I think I might have been traumatized, but Dan just wanted to know if I was hungry. I guess he was.

There was no blood this time. Just weirdness. We went to a call where this lady had decided to drop in and check on her home. She had been trying to sell it, so there it sat vacant. She lived a few hours north and since she was in the area she thought it would be good to go look around. It proved to be a great decision because her home had tenants. There were folks living in there. She called the cops. (enter Dan and I) Officer Dan and one of his coworkers started to unravel this long and complicated story.

The tenants said they were renting, they had a contract........with someone else who didn't own the home. If the rent on your house is dramatically below market value and you are not given a key then chances are you are being scammed. Tears ensued and eventually two arrests for trespassing.

Dan asked me if I wanted to go look in the shed. Of course I didn't want to look in the shed. What? Was there a dead body in there or something? It turned out to be a bed roll and some stuff. There was obviously a dude sleeping in there too. I had to laugh when Officer Dan asked the lady if she thought it was normal to sleep in a shed. " I don't sleep in a shed. Do you think its normal for someone to sleep in a shed?". She had no reply other than to ask if I could reach up her shirt and adjust her bra. It was pinching her and she couldn't get to it in the cuffs.

So I am done for the next 4-5 years. I will go out again then when I have completely forgotten what he does for a living. I am thankful that he does it though. Lord knows I don't want to.

Around the house

I have been project crazy for the last few weeks. Its not even spring and I am organizing at a break neck pace. I bought a hard drive so that our computer wouldn't be left out either. Maybe I will relax now that I have so many projects under my belt.....but I doubt it. Anywho, here is what I have been up to.

Well its official now. My baby is not a baby.I didn't expect it to happen this quickly either. Here she is snoozing in her toddler bed. Yes, toddler. That word doesn't roll of the tongue in quite the same way that baby does. I guess they all grow up, but that is because no one consulted me.

,

Much to my dismay, Logan is also growing up. Here he is with his new bed. It was a craigslist find that I just couldn't pass up. I would have loved a bed like this when I was his age. He loves it too. One bajillion mom points for me.



This is my most recent project. Its our homeschool room. I love it. The table is ikea furniture that Dan the man "modified" to create my vision. I couldn't be happier with it. This is the room that was meant for a formal dining room, but we ain't formal people. We are edjumacted people.

Logan, of course, is always up for a photo shoot. He just can't help himself. The boy loves the spotlight.

Now I need to get to the paint store because I have been sitting still too long.

The way I am......was

I always thought I had a good definition of what a good mother and wife was. I have always known what moms do and how wives should behave and it never crossed my mind once that there was a different opinion out there......until about 8 years ago.

8 years ago I moved to California. I was very much looking forward to the sun and beaches you see on tv. What you don't see on tv is that all of California doesn't look like 90210. Where I lived we had rolling hills and cows. Clearly this was a shock. The surprises didn't stop there. I began to meet other moms and wives and discovered that I had it completely wrong. West coast ladies and East coast ladies have precious little in common. Of course we love our husbands and kids, but the way we go about it is drastically different.

I remember the first time someone asked me if I would be making baby food for my in utero baby. "Who makes baby food? Don't you just buy it at the store?" I balked. Little did I know that every product in the store would soon give me cancer and if I loved my family like I proclaimed then I would immediately buy a food mill and start churning my own butter. I needed to breast feed my baby because she would certainly end up retarded and on welfare if I gave her formula. It was a very scary and unsure time fore me. I was inundated with all these new opinions and information. I was lost.

I also learned that appearance was not truly important. I had to look gorgeous without looking like I tried. How does one use 30+ beauty products and look natural? Where I am from you are shaming your family if you go to Winn Dixie without your makeup on. Here you can just roll out of bed, throw you hair in a ponytail and run the 10 miles to the store. You can show up all sweaty and red faced and no one bats an eye.

Oh yes, I almost forgot. The running
I was so mesmerized by how many people I saw out running, walking, biking and exerting themselves outdoors. The farthest I would walk was to the mail box or maybe around the mall. And forget about running. Unless someone is chasing me with a weapon it ain't gonna happen. I got my fill of running from my Air Force days. I couldn't believe it was trendy to exercise, eat organic and be fit. I have been looking for almost a decade and have yet to find a fish camp.

You are a good mom in the south if you teach your kids manners and respect. You are a good mom here if you teach your kids to recycle and turn off water and light switches. Here you respect the earth and bring your own shopping bags to the store. Its been a really strange ride, but I have found myself somewhere comfortably in the middle. I eat some organic and yes we recycle. I even have a ton of those grocery bags that I take to the store when I can remember. I still wear lots of makeup though, even to the store. Some things are ingrained.

I like how the west coast opened me up to a whole world of information I may have never encountered. Some of it is bad, like how many things are acceptable right out in public. Right up in your face ALL THE TIME. Then there are some great things like learning to be healthy and exercise. I think I can teach my kids to respect me and the planet. It has made me a better mom and wife. Information tends to do that. I still am not running anywhere anytime soon, but I will walk to the gym and eat some veggies. Not today though. We are having pizza.

Get over it

Over the past weekend....or week I have learned a few things about myself. I learned that I am a fan of Lisa Bevere. I am so glad I heard her speak. She was very inspiring. It really got me thinking too. The events that transpired over the week/weekend where somewhat stressful. I felt overwhelmed. I felt betrayed. I felt unappreciated. I needed cake...or fries would do. I needed to stop medicating myself with food........tomorrow.

I thought about all these things. I would even say I pondered them in a biblical fashion. I think that maybe God might have known what he was doing when he put together my temperment. I took everything that happened to me, and then some, very personal. I was hurt, maybe even wounded. I felt my feelings, which I always do. I don't stifle. They are always right there. Just ask Dan. He will tell you about all my feelings and how intensely I feel them. He gets to hear it all. Lucky Dan.

In a few days they are all gone. I am left mildly irritated and resolved. I let my emotions wash over me and I let them go. I am not a grudge holder. I may freak out, but rest assured it won't take me long to come back to some reason. I think I am at the tail end of my stress filled week. I am feeling more forgiving, more resolute. I am thankful that I am made this way. It works somehow. The things I am skilled at are not something you can disconnect from easily. To do them well I have to be fully engaged which means sometimes getting my feelings stomped on. But God has given me the ability to get up, look folks in the eye and keep on going. I don't need closure from them because God has granted me acceptance. I in turn can pay it forward.

Lisa B was right this weekend. God uses what he already placed into your hand. He uses what you are good at. So I will let him and I will move on.