a read day in my real life (unedited or proofread)

this morning i had to be out of the house by 6:30am. i don't do vertical before like 8-ish...so this was already a challenge. i haven't slept past 6:30 yet this week, and was even up one day at 4:30 to meet my new hour long commute head on.

so i left the house in a hurry, but was still able to hear hubby say he didn't check the fluids or get gas in the car that let me sit briefly just yesterday. i am out the door and on my way. my time with god in the mornings has been quite sacred. so vivid i find myself telling him jokes and laughing out loud as i am amused by the thought of his amusement with me. all of the sudden i look down and there is no gas...the gauge is apparently very unreliable and we don't let it go much below 1/4 tank as we don't know when empty actually happens. well folks, we are well below 1/4 and i can never gauge distance to my next destination without gps, even if i have been somewhere 3 times already that week.

i am already concerned the car will putt out on my way... (i bargained yesterday,that if it had to break down it should happen on the way home. i got my wish!) now i am driving on fumes of faith too. more laughing out loud with god. i requested that the next gas station be a sheetz (they have my favorite chocolate milk in this area). next station...sheetz by only a parking lot, there was a sunoco or something next door, life is good. i pull the car to the wrong side of the pump and have to drive around, but got it on the first time, which is rare. i head in, get my chocolate milk, a bottle of fuel injector cleaner, some smokes (i told you i was a jerk) and pre-paid for my gas.

i dropped off my goodies on the front seat of the car and began pumping. part way through, i realize i have not put the cleaner into the tank...(yes, this is a real decision a 32 year old woman made today)...i put my gas nozzle on the ground and go rummaging on the front seat for the cleaner. it's not there! my eyes are darting back and forth from the nozzle on the ground, to the pre-paid status on the pump to the front door of the sheetz. i can't rehang the nozzle, i don't know what happens when you have a credit card paid-pre-paid pump nozzle before i have finished pumping. i flash back to all of these sticky labels on the pump "ALWAYS REPLACE NOZZLE" "DANGER"

i know my choice is a bad one, but highly warranted in this situation. in a moment of glory i barrel back towards the store where the clerk (who has probably seen the nozzle resting on the ground) is coming towards me with my bottle of cleaner. i grab it and thank her graciously, then run back to the car/nozzle crisis i have created. the man pumping gas beside me seems to be in some state of disbelief. he is looking at me like someone would a mentally disabled child who is beating himself in the head with a stick. he just can't seem to wrap your mind around the concept, and "alls" he knows it just "ain't" right.

the bottle of injector cleaner spills out over the side of the car, the nozzle is still laying on the ground and all i can think about is "when i get in the car, i want to smoke and not light myself on fire". (i don't know what is in fuel injector cleaner, but it smells pretty serious) i finally resume pumping which brings some relief to the grimacing pumper beside me. i replace the nozzle and sniff my fingers, mary kathrine gallagher style of course...it's official i am a fire hazard. i grab a napkin from the glove box, but it was of no real value to the situation. i look and behold....(enter angels singing)...you know that thing hanging on the pillar in most gas stations with the window squeegie? i dip my hands in the water, surely infested with insect parts and the like, and begin cleaning my hands. after a few dips and rubs i see my fellow pumper is pretty disgusted. he is looking at me like i have disrobed and am sponge bathing with the bug water squeegie and all. i pat my hands dry with the complimentary paper towels provided, probably for windshields and fluid checks (quite absorbant) and am on my way. leaving a story for my perplexed pumper friend to share at his next destination.

i arrived at work with only a few putt and pops. the day was...ugh...no desire to talk work! but to give you an idea, one of the people i assigned to this huge account i am trying to save POOPED HER PANTS AT WORK...get the picture???

end of the day, hop back in the car...exit the freeway to continue my final 28 miles til home....putt putt putt, sputter, sputter, sputter...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. i am officially broken down at the side of the road. cars flying by, hot, after a week that would make a grown man cry like the rolling stones.

a tow truck, free cup of joe from the nice lady in the farmer's market beside my car's preferred resting place, a call or 11 to hubby for a ride, an hour drive to pick up annie at camp, the song from the red robin restaurant chain stuck in my head and this obsession to use an old man voice and say all of my S-sounds with a whistle (possibly a sign that i have finally lost my mind) and we are home safe and sound (minus the mind)

and this friends is a real day in my real life

Jesus Christ, get off the road!

This is just too good to pass up.

Is that a Tic-Tac in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?

I came across this article.  I was impressed at the many creative ways to describe the severed and poorly preserved penis of a French ruler.  Makes me want to write a limerick.

Napoleon, you'll never believe this
The doctor's clipped off your little penis
Like a gerkin too far
From the pickle jar
Your "jerky's" made all of us curious

When I grow up, I want to be a unicorn

Last week I took a trip with my lovely mother-in-law to Longwood Gardens.  I saw this amazing display of Bonsai trees.  My first introduction to Bonsai was through Mr. Miagi.   These trees were perfect, with branches and roots and bark and leaves, but only stood 2 or so feet tall.  One dated back to 1906.  I had no idea what an art this was and naturally I began to think "maybe I should take up a Bonsai tree hobby". 

Let's stop here.  In my house there is a certain unfortunate condition plants tend to succumb to.  It's called "Failure to Thrive Inspite of Serious Neglect" or FTISN for short.  I don't even remember to water a plant and I think I will dedicate all of the time and conscientious effort required to carefully pruning a Bonsai?  A few days later, one of the plants which has been unfortunate enough to end up in my house was browning.  I remembered the Bonsai, took out my kitchen sheers and began snipping.  'Til I was done, there was little plant left , BUT I had satisfied the Bonsai desire in me. 


Then, this past weekend I was volunteering at an African Festival and got the grand idea, "Maybe I should take African dance lessons and join the Nbonye Dance and Drum Ensemble".  Of course to have this thought, I must suppress memories of previous dance experiences, where it took me SIX times longer than everyone else and I still couldn't get my parts down. 

I get ideas, really bad ideas that cannot actually fit into my life or be nurtured by me and then I swaddle them and tuck them in close to my heart and begin to feel attached to them.  Then, even though they were VERY bad ideas from the beginning, when I realize they can't or better put shouldn't be done, I mourn the loss of them. 

In just the last six months I have thought I should...
Coach a basketball team (I don't even know the rules!)
Become an FBI profiler (go ahead, laugh.  i am!)
Go back to school to be a doctor, counselor teacher and/or FBI profiler (let's play "Name That Major)
Have another baby and be a stay at home mom again
Move to Kenya (I would teach at the school and hubby could farm)
Take up public speaking/teaching
Try out for a part in a local theatre
Teach ESL in an elementary school (I don't even speak a Second Language)
Be an author/professional blogger
Retire (From what?)
Start a non-profit to help prostitutes, addicts, individuals with HIV/AIDS, and  prevent teen pregnancy
Open a life coaching office (I NEED a life coach!)
Open a restaurant
Begin making perfumes from home with my newly found horticulture interest (Stupid Longwood Gardens)
Go to culinary school (that one lasted about a minute)
Talk my bosses into opening a boring office in Lancaster so I don't have to figure out what to do

I have recently narrowed my options (as if many of them were actually options) to about five.  BUT, I can't even take myself seriously.  When I think I may like to do something long-term, I am quickly reminded of the MANY things (and people) I loved a lot for a little.  Or the ones thought I would and just didn't.  As a child we can believe we will become president or Miss America, a famous actress or an astronaut.  It's perfectly normal to watch an ice skating movie and then practice in your socks on the linoleum kitchen floor thinking it's qualifying you for the Olympics.  Although I like that my mind doesn't have many limits on what is possible, I think it makes finding "reality" a bit more difficult.   And I wonder what it means to be a "grown-up".

Don't eat meat, eat babies

I just saw a most interesting combination of bumper stickers on a car.  The first I read said "Stop violence-don't eat meat"  the one beside it read "Pro-choice".  My only question to the driver, whom I was tempted to confront out of sheer curiosity was "If we ate the babies would you still be pro-choice?"

Playground Love

Let's go on another trip down memory lane.  I am in 6th grade, right around 11 or 12 years old.  It's a sunny day and I am enjoying outside recess at Farmdale Elementary School.  I am hanging with my usual group of friends, doing our usual sixth grader nonsense.  The circumstances leading up to this moment are a bit fuzzy, but I had a crush on a boy I had known since 2nd grade...Randy Kreider.  Next thing I know, I have kicked Randy in his testicular region and he is rolling around on the ground.  I do the natural, I just kicked my friend, the boy I like in the family jewels-thing to do...I RAN...FAST!  Once I see Randy is once again upright, I send a friend to ask him a very simple question, "Will you go out with me".  Word returns to me in just a short bit, Randy has said "YES".

Hot dog!  I have my very first boyfriend...unless you count Kenny, who was 16 when I was 5.  Kenny was a family friend in his tight blue jeans with his white T-shirt and his pack of cigarettes rolled into the left sleeve.  He had long brown hair that was feathered like one of Charlie's Angels.  I used to impress him with my lightning bug catching skills.  He never gave me the time of day...but we had something special.

So I have my very first real boyfriend.  The bell rings, signalling the end of recess has arrived, I return to my classroom, sit at my desk and the feeling of dread comes over me.  I got sweaty and nauseas.  I scan the room, find my trusty messenger girlfriend, and tell her to send another message to Randy.  Tell him, "It's over, I break up with him".

The minute I saw the deed was done, my stomach untied from its knots and my body returned to it's more normal temperature.

And that's the story of my first boyrfriend.

Take A Puff, It's Your Anniversary

Today is a fun day.  It marks six months since my last cigarette.  I smoked it just outside HIA while waiting for my flight to Kenya.  It's hard to buy a pack of SIX DOLLAR smokes when you've seen bloated-tummied babies and the 80 year old widows that struggle to keep them alive.  Though, that never stopped me before.

I also married the red-head on this day 18 months ago.

I am not sure which is more mind blowing...Maybe I should celebrate them both with a Newport.

Hubby told me I am not as pleasant as my old-smoking-self...I punched him in the throat.  He took it back.

Albino's wife rambles senselessly

I am sitting at the kitchen table with my netbook.  My albino hubby is outside shoveling 24 inches of wintry mess from our sidewalks. He's got every inch of his skin covered in fear of sunburn and is protecting his baby blues with these hideous sunglasses I found under the seat of his car. In an effort to look at him as a man, I tell myself the glasses were there when he bought the car.  And if you ever see him in them, that's what I want YOU to think too.  

A little off topic, well maybe, I don't actually know the topic yet...Yesterday morning I was sleepy, so I asked the hubster to make me french toast while I got ready for work.  I came down what seemed like 25 minutes later and they were only half way cooked...I giggled as I thought "I could have fed the whole family in this amount of time", but was quite happy to not be the one cooking.  When the french toast was done, I plopped it on my plate added syrup and butter and took my first bite.  Then I gagged and spit it out. (in the most polite of ways)  They looked great, but were totally raw in the middle.  As he was putting on the second batch (he was cooking two at a time) he asked, "how long do you let the bread soak in the egg mix?"  It was after my advice of "not THIS long", that he confessed it was his very first time ever making french toast.  I was honored.  The second batch was worse than the first, and I had to get to work before he could try again...but I left knowing how much my husbandman loves me.  It was a good day.

The diner is officially up and running.  My first day was Monday, as was my first promotion and raise.  The restaurant is beautiful.  The owners are three cousins a little younger than myself.  They were raised in the restaurant business and this is the first of their own.  I love dreamers!  Just knowing that three guys had the balls to put all of their savings together, move to a new town and dive into a diner...It makes me invest in their dream as if it were my own.  I have been given free reign to get all of the servers trained properly, organize anything server related and institute any procedures that will make things run smoothly.  Several of the girls are single moms ( I have a heart for SM's) and some have even confessed drug/alcohol issues to me.  I look forward to mentoring these (mostly younger) girls and enjoying our time building a community at the diner.  I am scouting for my successor.

In other news...When I was a little girl I used to write faux-broadcasts and weather reports and record myself giving them.  I also used to practice eating candy bars in the mirror, because I thought it would qualify me to be on commercials.   (This is how my brain actually works in case you were wondering...very random thoughts all on a thread)  

In other news...Hubby and I are in the final stages of making our decision to move back to my home town.  I guess we have already made the decision, we are putting the finishing touches on making the plan a success.  I am considering my employment options and the kids are day dreaming about being close to family and old friends again.  I think they are looking forward to getting to see their dad more too.  If we move into the same school district, they would get to spend lots of time with him and get to school without having to commit to "choosing between parents".  I am excited for them.  Hubby can do music and computer geek stuff anywhere...so I guess it comes down to what I will do.  We have a saying in our house, it came from the hubby.  I can openly admit when I am lost while driving, he on the other hand has coined the phrase "It's an adventure".  So, for the sake of saving face...An adventure awaits me.

Until next time...

Furious Love

Check out the trailer and excerpt for Furious Love.  Then choose a premiere site...or HOST one yourself.

I am excited for something so raw and real to reach the masses!

You can also watch Finger of God in the meantime!

This little piggy did a California rolling stop all the way to the Dollar Store.

One day I was at the Dollar Store. It was early in the morning and I just needed to get a plain white T-shirt for one of the kids' school art projects.  As I stood in the aisle looking for the right size, a store clerk came over to me and said, "The law requires you to wear shoes while shopping in this store".  I looked up from the shirts and slowly moved my eyes in her direction to indicate I acknowledged her presence.  I looked back down at the shirts, made my selection and headed to the register.  I never said a word to her, though in my mind I did enjoy poking fun at her audacity correcting ME and the humor of someone flexing their "Dollar Store AuthoritY" (say it South Park style). I rarely wore shoes, not even to the grocery store, the mall and definitely not the Dollar Store.

I had no idea this encounter would begin a process that would change my life.  Not too long after this incident, maybe a few days, I felt convicted.  Let me define what this is according to my own personal experience.  

Conviction- When I sense God is showing me areas in my life that are not beneficial to me or Him and then challenging me to come up higher.

God began to show me all of these things in my life, little seemingly meaningless things, like not coming to a full stop at a stop sign, going over the speed limit, not wearing my seatbelt.  I quickly reminded him that I had many other much bigger issues than stop signs and footwear, and He might do us both some good and help me work on them before He get his panties in a bunch over footwear!  This was my first introduction to the concept "Faithful with little, faithful with much".  If I couldn't stop at a stop sign, I wouldn't stop myself from compromising in much "bigger" areas of my life.  I realized He was right.  (I hate when He does that) 

So, I got all serious like and.........ran the stop sign around the corner of my house everyday for four days.  Each time, as I made the turn, I would gnash my teeth and whack the steering wheel,  as I intended to get it right. Finally, on the fifth day, I stopped!!!  I was so excited.  I stayed there, behind that stop sign and counted all the way to TEN!  Victory was mine!!!  I started getting better at following the speed limit and even wore my seatbelt (though it was hard on the "just up the street" times, but I was making headway).

As you may have guessed, I had to go back to that Dollar Store (with my shoes on) and apologize to the woman I snubbed.  I confessed I had treated her poorly and that I lacked character.  She accepted my apology and I have worn my shoes to every store I have entered since that day.  (Or at least some form of foot covering, I love to sport my slippers now).  

This lesson came in handy again as I was being trained in giving.  I was a broke single-mom for five years, trying to take care of four young children.  Every penny mattered and every cent was accounted for.  I was often tempted to not help hurting people, not give to the local shelter, not drive to help a friend because gas was expensive. I knew I wouldn't always be scrounging at the bottom of the barrel to get by, and I thought when I wasn't, THEN I would give.   It was during this time, that I was reminded, "faithful with little, faithful with much".  If I won't give $5, I surely won't give $50 and I am only deceiving myself by believing otherwise. I cannot tell you the rich experiences I would have been robbing myself and my children of if God hadn't taught me faithful in the small.

Funny, that I seemed to have "learned" all this, only to have to confess these last few months, I often forget to bring change with me to work.  I park in a lot with meters.  I get out of the car and zip into the office, sort of crossing my fingers/saying a prayer, hoping that I don't come out later to a ticket.  The other day, I heard (not with my ears, though I have met people who have this kind of encounter) God reminding me of the faithfulness lessons.  I felt He asked me, "Would you leave a grocery store with items without paying because nobody was standing at the checkout?"  Of  course I wouldn't!!  Then why was I stealing parking time hoping the meter maid didn't notice?

The reason I love this lesson so much is it keeps me accountable to myself and is a great litmus test for choosing friends and churches and places to give to.  If someone will lie to their boss about why they aren't coming in...If someone will lie to their wife about being on the way when they haven't even left yet...If a church won't give when things are tight...

If I can bring myself to compromise in even the slightest way, I am a risk factor to myself and all who love me.  

Hold me accountable!  

  

Animal abuser loses testicles

Picture this:


Adam and Eve are chilling in the garden. Adam sees Eve, she's got that "I am up to no good, man" look. Adam follows her closely and they end up infront of the "Tree of Knowledge". There's a snake dangling upside down from a branch, hissing on about God being a liar. Eve reaches out to grab some fruit. As the fruit touches her lips, Adam whacks it from her hands and punches the snake in the face.


An indignant Eve scowls as she helps up the snake, apologizing profusely.  She stomps off continuing to rant on about how Adam is always keeping her from the things she wants, and how tired she is of him acting like a pompous controlling pig. She goes home and sulks, refusing to "put out".  Adam, desperate to regain his wife's approval rushes back to the tree, snatches some fruit, takes it to his wife, explains how she is right and he acted like an oaf. Eve is satisfied with his concession and they eat.

12, 12:12, Twelve, 12/12

On December 12, 2009 hubby and I celebrated five years since the day our eyes first locked.  Get ready to gag, but hubby and I text or send IMs on any given day at 12:12 to say "I heart you".  Sometimes just a blank one does the job.  On 12/12 when the clock turned to 12:12pm we took pictures of the clock, the microwave, our cell phones...if it said 12:12, we got a shot.  My personal fave is our house phone it reads...12/12 @ 12:12pm.

I got this beautiful idea to start a photo journal of the twelves.  I got a shot of a 12 pack of Sierra Mist, (well actually I saw it, but hubby was busy bossing me around about the angle, so I dropped the camera in his lap and then mocked him with directions when he was trying to get the shot).  Then I asked hubby if he would be willing to go on an adventure with me.  I punched 1212 into Google with our city and state.  A local string quartet came up.  I contacted them and asked if we could come by, have them play for us and get some photos with them.  I have since found a State Park, restaurants, the 1212 Art Gallery, a quilters guild called Twelve by Twelve.  I think the most exciting part of the adventure will be traveling the many Route 12's and even I-12.  I am looking or art that resembles 12s ...anything and everything 12.  I even tried to get hubby to buy me this house...he said it's a little out of our price range...but I tried.  There is no end to the possibilities.

Our adventure begins as soon as I hear back from the ladies in the quartet.  Hubby is looking for a domain name for our adventure. I want to use my blog, but he's a geek and that will never do.  He's like a computer pappy saying in a gruff grampy voice... "A domain name for each project is something like an apple a day" While he is busy with that, I am checking out corporate sponsors.

I am giddy in love with hubby and looking forward to finding a gazillion reminders of our simple beginning.

No fair, she got to see it twice...oh, and happy mother's day

It was only a few years ago that I began to learn how to laugh at myself.  I have been getting a little too intense lately and especially caught up in what others think of me.  In a effort to remedy this before I am again paralyzed, I have decided to put myself through a few stories, have another laugh at my own expense and loosen up a bit.  Nothing like a healthy dose of self-inflicted public humiliation.


One afternoon I was driving with my children, three at the time.  We were on a back road in between Columbia and Mount Joy, Pa.  As we drove I saw there on the yellow line, a snake...a large and beautiful black snake.  I try not to pass up opportunities to show my kids stuff they wouldn't normally get to see.  I pull up alongside of the snake and see it is dead.  I reach behind me and open the back door so my daughter, A, could take a peak.  She has her turn and asks her questions and it's time to give E her turn.  I pull forward, turn around and pull up alongside the snake again...as I am trying to figure out what is wrong with this scenario, E begins to cry indignantly, "No fair!  She got to see the nake (speech impediment) TWO times mommy!!!"


I can't figure out why or how, but I know she is right, because there beside A's door is the snake again.  I pull forward again, turn around and now E is just pissed.  She has her arms crossed and is breathing her mad breaths...but for the life of me, I can't figure out how to stop driving in circles around this snake or how to make it fair by giving E a chance to see it from her side of the car.  I try one more time. This time I  cross over into the lane of (would be) oncoming traffic, pull up beside the snake that is FINALLY on the correct side of the car, but I can't reach E's door to give her a peak...AND....I AM ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD.   All of this for a snake.   I give up, turn around again, pull over to the side of the road and get the girls out, take them to the snake on the yellow line, listen to their oooohs and ahhhhs and am on my way.


You would think an experience like that would have taught me something, yet not too long after and not even for the last time since....I have been witnessed driving in circles around a gas pump trying to figure out what keeps going wrong.




My next story takes place in May of 1997.  I am at the local Weis markets in Mount Joy, PA.  I am 9 months pregnant, due in a week.  I have gathered my items and have entered the Express Check Out.  The young boy, probably 16 or so scans my groceries and politely makes my change.  As I am replacing my bags into the cart and taking my receipt, he says "Happy Mother's Day".  In my lack of attention to his words I kindly come back with, "You too".  Now my brain catches up with my mouth, I realize I just told a 16 year old to have a happy Mother's Day.  I MUST fix this, he is going to think I am a total idiot.  In an act that I can only call one of shear panic and desperation,  I quickly blurt out, in a nervously loud and over killed tone...."Well I hope your mom does"


What?  What did you just say?  You idiot!  Who says this stuff?  What is wrong with you?   I take off RUNNING out of that store, pushing my cart (nine months pregnant) and didn't look back.  For the next 6 months I had to change grocery stores because I couldn't bear to show my face.  I mean, really you and I both know he waited at his register in the Express Check Out staring at the door, waiting for the crazy "Happy Mother's Day lady" to come walking through, so he can get on the store loud speaker and point me out to all of his co-workers (who now all work overtime just in case I might come back) and my fellow shoppers that I was the "one from his story".


Thanks for laughing at me and with me.  oh my goodness, I just remembered one more....(my hubby just went to bed without me, so I guess it won't hurt.)



A couple of months after hubby and I got married I was at the Weis Markets in the town where we now live. I was actually waiting in the parking lot for it to open...(I have no idea what was so important)  I was still getting used to being not single.  (don't ask about this either...we didn't date, we just got married, my brain, as you can see from the above stories, is not my greatest asset)  So, I am at the store before the sun has even come up and I am looking for whatever products I went to get.  On two occasions I pass a man, a relatively attractive man, and I notice he is "looking at me"...Ladies, you know "the look".  I am sure I smiled and thought, "Why yes, I am darn cute aren't I?"  and kept walking, but now with a little bounce in my step.  I ring up my things, and he is in the line beside me, he casts one more "look" in my direction and is on his way.


My ego is so totally blown up.  I am the best thing that has happened to this store in ages and that guy keeps confirming with his eyes.  This once bounce in my step, is now like a diva runway model stride.   As I am on my way back to my family and GORGEOUS HUSBAND....I catch a glimpse of myself in the giant windows on my way out. Would you believe it?  With each step I take, bouncing diva stride and all, I have a huge, mother of all COWLICKS in the back of my head.  I look like a ROOSTER!  It was unmistakable...not a hair or two out of place, the world's most serious case of bed head....you know, flat in the back from the pillow with the giant tower on top.....


That man was not checking me out!!!!  He was wondering why I didn't BRUSH MY HAIR!!!  And why I kept giving him the "I'm catching what you are throwing eyes".


I got in my car and laughed till it hurt to breathe.  I came home too humiliated to tell hubby about my adventures, but promised to tell him on our one year wedding anniversary.  So, there in the airport, waiting for our flight to Kenya, hubby found out about his wandering-eyed, chicken-headed wife.

Off to dream land for me.  If all goes well, I WON'T be trying to repair my pride.

I crack me up!

sorry wrong number

The following is an actual event that took place tonite while hubby and I hung out at the kitchen table after the kids went to bed.  A text is sent to hubby's phone from a number neither of us recognizes.  he suggests we play a little game...and so...

 For clarity T is our mystery texting buddy and our responses will be marked at U.

T- ;-)

U- Who is this

T- Me across from you

U- Bad news.  You're sitting across from the wrong person

T-  Really?
T-  Ok then I should come sit next to you ;-)

U-  You can do that but I must warn you.  The person you're going to sit beside doesn't know you are coming.

T- What??  Is this Ed or his girlfriend?
T- WTF

U-  I tried to tell you. The person across from me is my wife and we're sitting in our dining room.  (it's a kitchen)

T-  Nice...Um Ed gave me the wrong F-n number.  Bro, you funny as shit

U-  My wife and I are having a good laugh at your expense.  I think you might want to stay away from Ed's girl : )

T-  Ok...you saved my ass man.  That could have been very uncomfortable...leave it to Ed to give me the wrong number...lol

And so are the days of our lives.

a whole new world

Today is a very exciting day.  I am the new proud owner of this.  It will be the future location of my blog.

Hubby is gonna make it all nice like, and I will use it to take over, ummmmmm, I mean CHANGE the world.

JessicaJuggs.com was my first choice.  *snickers*

quaking devil dogs

this is a perfect example of why i heart donald miller.

the man gets it, and has the amazing ability to tell others about it in a healthy and productive way.

and for this i am enviously thankful.

She spins

This blog entry is a repost from December 19, 2006.

She spins.

This little girl in my mind.

She spins and as she spins she can't help but admire the way her little feet stay in perfect step.

She spins faster and faster adoring herself in that moment in that place.

She spins and she is lovely.

She spins and she is not dizzy.

She spins.

The more she spins the more she smiles.

The more she smiles the more lovely she is to herself.

The more she spins.

She spins mesmorized by her little white dress flowing like magic around her.

Her dress is perfect on her and she is perfect in it.

She spins and she is beauty.

Something catches her attention as she spins.

Potential spectators of her spinning and her beauty.

She spins and wonders if they will watch her spin.

She spins and hopes she is as lovely to them as she is to herself.

She spins.

Her spinning begins to slow.

As she spins her smile begins to fade.

Still spinning the beauty that seconds ago defined her cannot be found.

She spins and her stomach turns.

She spins longing to be lovely.

Slower and slower she spins.

Finally she falls to the ground.

Tears stream down her face as she stares into the clouds that swirl by.

She noticed they didn't notice.

She saw they didn't see.

Her loveliness and her spinning were interrupted by those who would not behold her as lovely.

The clouds are slowing down.

Her tears dry.

There with the ground sturdy beneath her she feels the warmth of the sun.

And there as the sun shines upon her as if she were the only place on earth to shine....

Lovely returns.

And she spins.

Shhh...just let it take you (repost)

This is a repost of a blog entry I wrote on Feb 28, 2007

I used writing this piece as a coping mechanism for a time when it seemed like I was losing one of my deepest heart desires.  This was only my second "creative piece" ever.  Pain works wonders!

Euthanize the dream
Let it fade away
Oh, the solace of its final scream
Sweet peace begins that day

Euthanize that dream
Truly a merciful act
Dry up the tear-borne stream
Beg not it come back

Euthanasia-The act or practice of ending the life of an individual suffering from a terminal illness or an incurable and painful condition. Also called a mercy killing.

Mowing the Lions (repost)

This is repost of a blog entry that I wrote on January 22, 2008.

When I was growing up I knew a man who every summer like clock work  would get his panties in a royal bunch as the dandelions in his yard popped up all over the place.....Each week before he would mow the lawn (with his shirt off, tummy hangin' over the top of his pants and some odd growth on his back...I think we named that thing) he would send one of his kids out to DIG UP DANDELIONS!!!!!  I never understood him...honestly.  THEY WERE JUST YELLOW FLOWERS!!!!!

A few years ago I had to take a real good look at myself, at my life, at WHO I really was. I had to examine how I got there and if I would be satisfied with living like this for the rest of my future.  As I did my self evaluation....I found these things, behaviors, mindsets, attitudes, weird quirks that popped up over and over again.  They seemed harmless enough, much like the dandelions...that is until I saw how they choked the life out of other areas of my being.  I figured it would be easy enough to take care of....so I got out my spiritual lawn mower and went to town blazing over those things until there was no sight of them.  I patted myself on the back for a job well done and felt ready to face my future.

It wasn't too long before I saw them poppin' up all over the place again.  I was CORN-fused...how could this be? I got rid of them I cut off their stupid little heads and NOW THEY WERE BACK!!!  I did what anyone would do....I got out my mower again....I barrelled over those bad boys with a determination that could have gotten me to the top of Everest.

Freakin crap!!!  What is happening??? why do those things keep coming back?  Again and again I cut them down, only for them to reappear....I am pissed.  I mean really pissed.  It's not like I wasn't willing to put out the effort, clearly I was.  It's also not true that I wasn't determined....I was.  SO WHAT KEPT GOING WRONG???

It wasn't until I had exhausted myself and even some close friends who were more than happy to mow with me or even FOR me when I couldn't anymore, that I realized I wasn't seeing the whole picture.  I neglected to see that the problem ran much deeper than what I saw on the surface.  What I SAW, the behaviors, the attitudes, the cycles....they were only the symptoms, the fun yellow flowers....the problem was buried much deeper, down in the depths of my being.  I began to see roots.....

Roots.  ROOTS.  ROOOOOOOOTS!!!!!  I felt pretty stupid, and flashed back to the neighbor guy with the growths (in his yard and on his back) ....as anal as he was, as ridiculous as I perceived his digging to be....that guy understood something I didn't.  He knew the only way to TRULY be free of those pesky plants (which he knew would choke out his very nice and lucious green grass) was to remove the ROOTS.

Root canal.  These are two words that upon hearing them, a shudder of UGH permeates my being.  I have never had one, but I have heard all the horror stories....for dental work, it sounds like the equivelant of childbirth.  And much like childbirth, people share their root canal stories like war heroes.  Our teeth are present in our mouths even before our birth....(buds anyway).  I think some of the roots that cause the popping up of negative behaviors, insecurities and attitudes of failure are very much the same.  I believe even before we are born the predisposition for such things are like little tooth buds, waiting to sprout in our lives.  I don't believe it's a matter of mere genetics....more a heritage issue.  (I don't have time to explain the difference, but feel free to ask me sometime what I am talking about).  And much like milk is a form or nourishment to the teeth, the environment we are brought up in, circumstances, victimizations, even the failures of others like our parents....become the nourishment needed to strengthen theses roots in us.  It may be years before we see any flowers or evidences of their existence...but they are there.  And they are growing and getting stronger.

Oh, look one just popped up!!!  Did you see that?  You know that thing you do EVERYTIME  you get in a relationship....or when the bills come.....or when you can't figure out the solution to a problem....or find yourself alone...

I guess ignoring it is worth a try......maybe there's a chance it's just harmless, and it really won't hurt anyone.....(sensing the sarcasm?)  go ahead, mow over it...get all determined and gung-ho....make a new year's resolution....it WILL just come back.  when you are exhausted....when you are sick of mowing, sick of feeling the life choked out of you, your relationships, your family, the job that you once loved.....consider a root canal.

I am sure the process is a little different for each of us....but I can bet there are some universal procedures that can be applied too.  I'm a God-lover...yea, shocked aren't you....for me, the only thing that made sense was to consult with the One who knew me better than I even knew myself.  The One who was there as those roots were being nourished, the One with a big enough shovel and gentle enough hand to be trusted to plunge into my depths and begin a process that I couldn't handle alone.  Did it hurt???  Ummmmm....yea!!  I think the hardest part was seeing...Ii mean really seeing what was IN me.  It also killed my pride to see how foolishly I had lived, and for so long....there was this knowledge of all the things I had done, the relationships I had killed, the self-induced misery I had endured out of ignorance....and when it got real real painful....all I knew to do was hold on tightly to the only One who could promise to do a thorough enough job that I wouldn't have to live in fear of these plants popping up again and again.  Ignorance on some occasions is bliss....especially when the truth is so ugly...but knowledge is POWER.

Probably like having a root canal inspires us to have better oral hygeine...or childbirth urges us (ok, so I am a glutton) to use contraceptives...a spiritual root canal causes us to be on gaurd for even the smallest seeds that could potentially grow into something that will need dug up again in the future.  Or be left to choke out the life we truly desire to live.

Wisdom (repost)

This is a repost of a blog entry I wrote on June 26th, 2007.

James 1:5 (in the Bible) says..."If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him."

As a single mother with four kids there is rarely a day that passes that I do not face a situation that reminds me I am totally in over my head and winging this whole endeavor...today was not an exception. I allowed my two sons ages four and six to spend the nite at a friend's house. These are people I have known for years... should be simple and uneventful enough, right? HA, that's what I thought. This morning when I went to pick them up, they were nowhere to be found. A teenager left to care for the boys suggested they may be at Turkey Hill (very nonchallantly at that)

Let's stop there, they are four and six and the boy they are with is only 8. Turkey Hill is located on Stoney Battery Road, a very busy and high traffic area. At this point I am furious, yet overriding this is concern for the safety of my children. I drive to the Turkey Hill, and ask the attendant if she had seen them, infact she has, but not for close to an hour. She mentions they had been playing around down there a couple of times today, but had not seen them in a while. I am ready to throw up. I begin driving around the neighborhood looking for them ( I realized I was so worried and was driving so fast I would have mssed them even if they were to be seen...ooops) I am praying, praying for their safety from vehicles, pedophiles and for my reputation as a mother, someone could spot my children unattended and report this and I could be charged with neglect...

The whole ordeal lasted only 10-15 minutes, at which point I did find them at my uncle's house, who lives in the same neighborhood...but it felt like a lifetime. Now, they are safe, they are with me and I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THEM. The thought of spanking continuously throughout the day, breaking only to rest my arms, crossed my mind. I considered grounding them, making them write sentences, putting them to bed for the day...you name it, I considered it for atleast a second. Finally, I prayed for wisdom....I believed by the time I arrived home, I would have my answer and would follow thru with it accordingly.

Getting home....when I left to pick them up, I had already been driving on what I call "fumes of faith"...and had been since Sunday...not too concerned as Wednesday morning is gas day...I go to get them. With the extra driving and sitting and waiting and the car running while I search for them....I run out of gas 1/2 mile from my house. I know when I was a kid the LAST thing I would have wanted while my punishingment was being pondered, was for my dad to run out of gas.....We got out of the car and walked home to borrow a gas tank thingie. As we walked wisdom arrives. If my boys wanna walk so much, that is just what they are going to spend their day doing. I get the girls home and tell them to take a dip in the pool and get the boys to work pacing the yard from one end to the other. I have myself a moment of sanity renewal (aka  Newport) and borrow a gas can from the neighbor.

Not only do my boys apparently enjoy walking so much, but now I am out of gas and have to walk to the gas station, get gas and carry it back to the van...guess what...if I have to do it so do they. I fill up two buckets of water (according to each child's ability) and we are on our way. They carried those buckets, (M had the audacity to whine I definitely considered reverting back to the spanking marathon every time I heard his voice) , but F remained very silent, not complaining once all the way to get gas and to the van.

I should have prayed for more wisdom, because upon arriving at my car, I couldn't figure out how to get the gas from the can to the car...I had to play cute damsel in distress ...all that wisdom must have puffed up my pride and I had to be taken down a few notches by asking a MAN for help...(in my defense everytime I tried to get it in the car it spilled all over me, I had no choice).

The car starts and we are on our way. When we get home the pacing of the yard was resumed...I have since allowed them to stop and we had a nice heart to heart. My son F told me when I picked them up that he knew if mommy saw him on those roads (turned out they also walked a stretch of Route 23..he proudly added they stayed beside the line) that he would be in trouble. When I explained that because he knew to do right and chose not to that he was accountable and his conscience was speaking to him, he said wisely..."So that's why my stomach hurt so bad when we were waking"

If you need wisdom ASK. And if it doesn't look like the norm, in my case spanking or time out....trust it anyway. James 1:6 goes on to say..."But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. That man should not think he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all he does.

You asked for it, now believe you have received it.

I know how you guys like to leave encouraging comments with my blogs...this time, with the time and energy it would take to do that...do me a favor instead...Pray for wisdom... for yourself, for me, for other parents...anyone who may need it (and who doesn't?) and thank God for protecting my sons...many mothers have had a day like today, a day that started out like any other....and hers didn't turn out like mine. Pray for those mommies too.