GO ROCKIES!!!!

Really, I'm not advertising for Budweiser. It's just that they were taking free pictures with the clydesdale for the World Series. How could I resist???

I forgot to mention. Last Saturday was a gorgeous day for Homecoming. It was sunny & 80 degrees. Hilary spent the night with a group of friends after the dance. She came home barefoot, wearing shorts and a t-shirt. This is a picture I took Sunday morning:





Our first snowfall of the season!!!! Colorado is the best place in all the world to live. The beauty, variety, sunshine, snow...I love everything about it. Oh, and GO ROCKIES!!!!!!!!

(P.S. I've been having to edit my picture posts. Blogger seems to not like my photo size anymore.)

New Site

I began getting phone calls for recipes, shortly after my offspring began to leave the nest. After a few calls wanting to know how to make frankfurter goulash, or that dish with chicken and maybe tomatoes and noodles, I decided to put together a recipe book. I thought how fun it would be to give each of my kids their own personal cook book with some of the families favorite recipes. I thought it would be nice to include photos of each dish to help them recall which one they were remembering.

It hasn't happened yet. In the meantime, I decided putting the recipes online was an even better idea. I still plan to make a hard copy for my family members. Living in the 2000's, books such as this could very well become obsolete, collector's items.

For now, here is the beginning of my labors. http://13recipes4me.blogspot.com/

I will try to put up a recipe a day and add photos as I take them. Enjoy!

To Jay Alves, Rockies Spokesperson

I realize that this is the first time ever that the Colorado Rockies have had the privilege of selling tickets to the World Series. But please! If you were unsure of how to sell tickets, why didn't you consult other, more experienced teams on how to accomplish this? The Boston Red Socks didn't seem to have any problems selling the tickets for games in their city. AND, they reserved some specifically for diehard fans to purchase at the gate on game day. How sweet is that for fans who couldn't get tickets???

Selling the tickets strictly via the internet did not make our city appear high tech. On the contrary, it showed the rest of the country how inept we are at hosting the World Series-or at least our inability to adequately sell tickets period. What about those who bleed Rocky Mountain Purple? Shouldn't we have a chance at tickets? By selling strictly through the internet, you have opened the door to the world to scalp tickets to the game in our own beloved city. Can't a few tickets be sold locally, making it easy for Denverites to see our home team play?

I am very disappointed. And yes, I wasted a good portion of my day trying to access the site for tickets. I don't think I can afford to waste another day for another chance. Afterall, in the few hours the site was up, it received 8.5 million hits. How is it going to be different tomorrow?

Go Rockies! Rah, Rah. (Said with less enthusiasm than before.)

Homecoming

Sarabeth & date


My girls & Ethan

Hilary & date

This is "the worm" portion of Hilary's dance. She performed this the day after her injury.

Oh Louis...

Exactly one month ago, I posted this. I mentioned the calming affects of Louis Armstrong's "What A Wonderful World" on driving, especially in stressful situations. Last night's occasion was no different.

I was about to mash a pot of potatoes when my phone rang. A cheery voice sang out,

"Hi, Mom!"

"Hi, Hilary."

(Pause.) "I'm at practice right now." Yes, you are every day at this time.

"We were doing the worm, and I got kicked." Quit pausing, and get to the point. Why are you calling? This mom gets a bit impatient with unexpected phone calls.

"The trainer says she doesn't think my nose is broken, but I need stitches. Do you want me to wait until the end of practice?" What, does she think I can't be bothered right now?

I picked her up, even though her sister, who drives, was at the school. I couldn't remember which urgent care accepted our insurance, so opted for the ER. Hilary had a pretty good attitude. She told me the details while listening to Louis.

Emergency Room doctors and staff think humor is encouraging to their patients.


Doc: "When noses are that swollen, we don't bother ex-raying them to see if they are broken.
You'll know in a couple of weeks anyway. Just look in the mirror. If it is crooked, you can bet it is broken.


Nurse: "Your homecoming is this weekend? Just wait 3 weeks, put on your dress, then take your pictures. Or just take them Saturday looking like a racoon."


Doc: "Usually we try to use glue on faces to minimize scarring. But I'm going to stitch this instead. Just 3 tiny stitches across your nose."


Nurse: "Ice is your friend. If not, your face will be very swollen."


It was after 9:00 when we arrived home. She's at school today, a bit nervous to perform the worm portion of the dance at the pep rally. Tonight is the game & tailgate party, tomorrow the dance. I hope she will keep smiling when she sees the photos from these events.

I've joined the craziness in Colorado & turned my blog purple to honor our World Series Team. After the sweep on Monday night, I woke up Tuesday morning to be one of the first to get Rockies t-shirts. It wasn't an original idea. I had appointments to get to, so I came home empty-handed.

I spent over 3 hours at Children's hospital with Elisabeth-a bone scan and CT scan. Children's hospital went through a huge move across town to a brand new building. Touted as one of the top pediatric hospitals in the nation, the new facility was needed to provide expanded services and I thought more parking. I was unimpressed when I arrived to cones in front of the parking garage that indicated it was full. I do believe I could get used to Valet Parking. I wonder if I could hire them full time?

This week is Homecoming week at the High School. I thought the festivities were for the high school kids? I'm expected to be at the pep rally on Friday, make a main dish that serves 12 for the tailgate party, help find proper attire for Spirit Day, Bling Day, Crazy Sock Day, and I can't remember the others. Let's not forget ordering flowers, buying new dresses/shoes, hair, nails, makeup....Saturday is the last big event. I'm tired already. I'm sure I'll feel much better after the soccer game and choir concert tonight.

(You all know I wouldn't miss a minute of it. Hilary even let me paint her fingernails silver with little black paw prints because I couldn't find the right green two stores later. Of course those will be removed and redone in a french manicure before Saturday.)

Autumn

Autumn

such a fickle season,

teasing with your constant changes.

Warm sunshine dances upon my skin

reminding me of past summer days.

Fierce winds blow rain, sleet, and (gasp) snow,

bite at my face.

A foreshawdow of winter.

Brilliant displays of red foliage,

oranges, & yellows alive like fire.

Too soon, all I see is barren nakedness

Crunching. Dry leaves crushed beneith my feet.

Days get predictably shorter,

darkness cuts into my afternoons.

Spicy hot cider, pumpkin bread,

Sweet hot cocoa, I drink in your delicious scents

Even the smoky wood smell from the crackling fire

intrigues my senses.

You flaunt your loveliness

Taunting me with your bounties,

But I've seen your other side

You are Fall.

To my friends and family in Arizona:
(Except Christopher)

I'm so sorry to hear of your loss. A loss can be so hard to accept. Please don't resort to throwing things, as others have done. We all need to learn that losing is a part of life. Especially since we expect you to experience 3 more losses like the one last night.

Go Rockies!

P.S. Christopher, enjoy the game tonight, but watch out for the Diamond Backs' fans-they don't handle loss very well.

Weekend of Surprise

It was a much anticipated weekend for Hilary. On Thursday, her cousin from Arizona was flying in to spend the weekend. We'd timed it just right, so Cara could see Hilary perform for half-time at the football game. Well, that is until we realized the game started at 4 instead of 6:00p.m. Her flight was at 3:30. It would be a close call.

The traffic was horrendous. Her flight came in early, we arrived late. More traffic, but somehow we managed to show up just before half time. Hilary was excited to see us walk through the gate.

It was a very close game, but her team lost. Hilary was undaunted. She was looking forward to spending the next few days with her favorite cousin. As the players were coming off the field, she was surprised when one of them stopped, gave her flowers and a card, and asked her to Homecoming. I didn't get a picture, so we hurried out to the bus, where the players were pulling off their equipment/shirts. This is the best I have. Boy, did her siblings harass him about being half naked!

Later that evening, Christopher surprised me by flying in for the weekend. He brought with him a spiderman costume for Ethan. It was a great weekend.

Teaching manners to young children can be fun. Role playing is a practical and effective way to accomplish this. Playing house, tea parties, and phone conversations to practice please and thank-you's was much more enjoyable than mere etiquette rules. I know my girls especially enjoyed the playtime.


Christopher had to learn additional things that my girls didn't, like opening doors. Manly things. Have you ever witnessed a little boy performing grown-up chores? His chest puffs out, He walks a little taller, and he takes on a new air of confidence. He is transformed into a man-child. My son was no different.

I was hesitant to give him the honor of opening the car door. I've seen too many fingers slammed between the two pieces of metal. At age 7, Christopher was a perfect gentleman. We'd be rushing out the door on a Sunday morning. I'd get the baby strapped into her car seat, make sure each one had her bible, offerings and such. Then I'd hurry around to my side of the car.

"Wait! Wait!" Christopher would run past me. My door would open. He'd stand their and hold it until I was securely inside. He'd shut my door. Grinning, he walked nicely back around to the other side of the big blue van-reopening the door I'd just shut and climb inside. At times I wanted to turn and say, "let's skip it today, I'm in a hurry." But one look into his big brown eyes, and there was no way. I wouldn't have missed it for anything.

On snowy, cold mornings, I'd tell Christopher how nice it would be when he was old enough to drive. He'd be able to drop his sisters and I off at the door of the church, then go park the car like the rest of the gentlemen. Sure enough, as soon as he was the proud owner of a Colorado Driver's License, my teenage son would automatically pull up to the curb closest to the church's front door. After parking the car, he could be seen hurring along the sidewalk with the other men who'd done the same. I was so proud to see him walking as one of the men.

During our winter trips to Arizona, my father-in-law and I used to take walks around the neighborhood. I was often pushing a stroller, coaxing a little one to sleep. I noticed when it was the just the two of us, dad-in-law would sometimes switch to the other side of the sidewalk he was walking. I was a little puzzled, but figured it must be a preferance, like choosing which side of the bed to sleep. He explained one day that he was merely staying on the outside. By walking closest to the street, it was a gentleman's way of being a shield of sorts. What a thoughtful gesture.

My dad modeled similar masculine niceties. While standing in a fast food line at the delectable Jack-in-the-box, my dad asked me what I was having. As usual, I had diffuculty making a choice. It had been years since I was in a Jack. After studying the menu, I finally chose 2 tacos. Dad placed the order. He ordered MY food. To some, this might not mean much, but to me it is a big deal. It is a comfort/security thing, like my husband answering the door or telephone. I can't explain why it is so meaningful, but it is. I can rest and be at ease, knowing someone else is watching out for me.

Men are an example of the Father when they tenderly walk in their masculine roles. Manners-a way to portray the gentle, caring ways of our heavenly father.

Beginnings



Sigh. This school year has not started well for Ethan. I've mentioned this before. Christina was at the school helping him eat lunch. The teacher came over and announced, "Ethan didn't have a good day." She went on to explain that Ethan had pulled the principal's hair and wouldn't let go. And the worst part? She was "so embarrassed." Embarrassed???? For what reason? Was she appalled at his behavior, ashamed of Ethan,or was she mortified because she, as his teacher, was clueless as to how to deal with the situation? I sure hope her embarrassement was a result of her own inadequacies and NOT by my precious grandson. How could this little boy humiliate anyone?




By the way, Sunday began Deaf Awareness Week. It is my desire to learn ASL in order to be able to communicate with the those in the deaf community. Every individual should be able to hear the Gospel in his own language. This sign goes out to all, but especially to Ethan:



I love you

More On Manners

I should have been thrilled, but I wasn't. The grandparents were watching the children for a couple of hours and Michael and I were going out. We rarely went anywhere as a couple, but I was less than excited. Dread would better describe my emotions.

I'd agreed to meet with some old friends of Michael's-from his BMW days. (Yes, he did drive a BMW as a single man. I think of those times as his "Before My Wife" days.) Being 9 years older than me, as were most of his friends, I often felt like a child sitting in a group of adults. Some of the friends I'd met were easily 10-15 years older. The men usually talked computers and business, of which I knew nothing. The women all had established careers, while my life revolved around my children and church. How could I carry on an intelligent conversation? This couple we were meeting didn't even have children. I got out of the car feeling like a total misfit.

Upon entering the restaurant, greetings were exchanged and introductions made. Kyle & Cheryl seemed like a nice enough couple, but I was still uncomfortable. As we took our seats, I noticed that Kyle pulled his wife's chair out and waited for her to be seated, before taking his own. Should I wait for my husband to slide my chair out for me? I looked over. He was already sitting. I quickly sat down.

Have you ever been at a fancy restaurant in a large group setting? You are sitting uncomfortably with people you don't know well. Your place setting has more glasses and silverware than you would normally use in an entire day. Not knowing how to start a conversation, you reach for your water glass. As you gulp down the icy cold water, you observe the person next to you. An uneasiness grips you and your mind gets foggy. Is the water glass placed on the right or left? Being right-handed you instinctively grabbed the one closest to you. While that cold is choking in your throat, you can't be for certain, but yes, you have mistakenly taken a drink from someone else's water glass. Awkwardly you hold the glass close to your lips. Should you quickly put it back, hoping nobody else noticed? Should you announce to all that you are clueless about table settings? Or do you act like it belongs to you, forcing the victim to deal with it? This is how I was feeling as I sat at the table with this couple.

Before our food arrived, Cheryl excused herself to the powder room. Has anyone seriously powdered themselves in there??? Kyle stood to his feet. Was he going with her? He pushed her chair in, and sat back down. As his wife made her way back to the table, Kyle once again rose to his feet and pulled out his wife's chair. I had witnessed this type of polite behavior in very old movies, but never in real life.

By this time, I needed to use the restroom. Would it seem rude to just get up and go? I wasn't used to excusing myself to use the powder room and I knew if I tried it would sound silly. Would Kyle feel the need to stand when I stood? Would my husband look like he didn't have any manners if he continued sitting? I decided to wait it out. I was thankful when Michael excused himself to visit the bathroom. I quickly said, "I'll go too." As I rose, so did Kyle. When I returned, he rose again.

This incident has played in my mind many times. I don't think anyone teaches a young man to acknowledge a lady's presence by standing anymore. I suppose it seems quite a silly thing to do. But I wonder. How would I, as a woman, feel if everytime I entered a room, men would stand at attention? Would this act be a silent command of respect to all parties? Surely, even a hardened feminist would feel important and valued at this gesture. Why do we bother with manners at all?Are they not about giving honor and dignity to one another? In showing respect, we speak to others that we value them-they are important enough to make the extra effort. Could the lack of manners in our society be one of the biggest ills affecting theyounger generation? Could this be why they feel lost and unimportant?

Courtesy & Other Forms Of Respect

I've been pondering quite a bit lately, on the lack of respect, honor, integrity and just plain old common courtesy. Over the next few days, I plan to talk about these things, relating some personal experiences.

Years ago, (what seems like years and years) it was common for a gentleman to "do" for a lady. Such things as assisting her into her carriage or onto her horse...okay, we won't go that far back. But do you remember men opening and holding doors, pulling out a lady's chair, polite words exchanged between the two? I believe this simpler, kinder culture provided men and women with roles in which they were comfortable. It was common knowledge what was expected of a lady and what was expected of a gent.

Things have certainly changed. I was confronted with my own questions of the impact these changes have had on our society. Have the changes all been positive ones? Or have most been negative? Are we better off or worse?

Several years ago, Michael and I ventured out with a neighbor couple. We had our 3 youngest girls with us, they had their son. It was a very, cold December night. I'm not sure why we'd agreed to go, but here we were-stepping out into below freezing temperatures. It didn't seem to matter that we were dressed in coats, hats, gloves, & scarves. The bitter cold seeped inside and clung to us. We trudged along the paths to view the Denver Zoo's Wild Lights.

As we hurried along, not many words were spoken. Talking seemed to allow too much warm air to escape making us feel colder. We oohed and ahhed just a bit, enough to seem as if we might be enjoying ourselves. Finally, Elisabeth blurted out, "I'm cold! Can we get some hot chocolate or something?"

Immediately, my friend turned to her son. "John, give Elisabeth your coat. She's cold." I was so surprised by this, it took me a few moments to believe what I'd heard. John didn't respond, his mother addressed him again. "John, when a lady is cold, a gentleman offers her his coat. Be a gentleman and give Elisabeth your coat."

Elisabeth assured her that she did not need or want John's coat. There is no way she could in good conscience have taken his coat. Michael spoke up and said that it was not necessary for John to give up his coat-he would freeze.

But this incident made me wonder. In years past, would this truly have been the right thing to do? Would a young boy of 12 be required to give up his coat for the greater comfort of the weaker sex?

Ethan came off the bus with his hand wrapped in guaze. He must have tugged & pulled, attempting to get it off. The tight wrapping was causing redness & swelling as it was restricting blood flow. Christina asked the bus attendants if they knew why Ethan's hand was wound with guaze. They didn't.

It took a bit of work, but she removed the dressing. She found a small area that was irritated and bleeding a bit. Since Ethan can't tell her what goes on at school, she retrieved the notebook. It stated that Ethan had been picking at his hand until it bled. A bandage was applied, but he pulled it off. Guaze wrapping was then secured around it.

Picking at himself is not behavior typical to Ethan. Christina looked more closely at his hand. She noticed a protrusion. It was a tiny piece of glass or hard plastic. She pulled it out and Ethan was fine. He had merely been trying to remove a painful fragment from his skin which was the real cause of his bleeding.

I can't help but wonder what other situations does the teacher write off as odd behavior or "just Ethan" when he has a legitmate need but is unable to communicate. He doesn't eat his lunch is it assumed he isn't hungry when actually he wasn't able to pick up his burrito and bite into it. He needs it cut in pieces that he can manage with a fork. Or what about the teacher assuming he refuses to participate in the songs and finger plays, when he just can't get the hand movements on his own? He isn't capable of singing or the hand movments.

I could go on about incidents that have happened in the short time Ethan's been in kindergarten. Starting school should be a positive experience to encourage lifelong learning. Ethan has not have a positive start. This gramma is very sad.

Skies of Blue, Clouds of White

"I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world"

Each time the words of this Louis Armstrong song play, my mind is flooded with the same memory. Hilary and I are in the car together. My fingers are fastened ever so tightly on the steering wheel. For a moment, tension creeps up my back& lifts my shoulders. My neck muscles feel strained as I rembember. Then the peaceful words wash over me. Louis' strong, deep voice evokes a calm.

Minutes earlier I'd been sitting on the front porch enjoying the warm, summer sun of August. Little 5 year old Hilary, was playing out back on the monkey bars. She appeared beside me, cradling her arm. Tears filled her eyes, and spilled down her rosy cheeks. She'd fallen and I suspected her arm was broken.

I don't know why I was so uptight. It wasn't as if I hadn't rushed to the emergency room before. Broken bones, poisoning, stitches...typical ER stuff. But this was my happy, little Hilary. She was the baby and her first trauma experience. She looked so sad.

I left the other kids home with their dad and off we went. Immediately, I snapped off the radio. The extra noise was an irritation. But Hilary protested to the silence. "Please turn some music on, it helps me not think about how bad my arm hurts." I looked over. Her brown eyes were red and pleading.

"Ok, what do you want to hear?" I expected her request to be one of her favorite Christian sing-along CD's. Nope, she wanted Louis, with his deep, raspy voice & strong, jazzy trumpet. I popped in the CD and out came "What A Wonderful World."


"I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself what a wonderful world."

She calmed down almost immediately. As the song ended, I hit repeat and we listened again. It is a wonderful world.


I need to dig out my Louis Armstrong CD. Yes, for Hilary. She is 15. We are back in the car. This time, she is the driver and I am the passenger. We both need Mr. Armstrong's calming effect.

(Oh, and yes her arm was broken. It was her first, but not her only broken bone.)

As we walked towards the gate, Hilary hugged me and ran to catch up with the other girls. I paid my 5 dollars and attempted to pass through. The lady, and I use that term loosely, who was the gatekeeper was scolding the cheerleaders. The teens were respectful, in spite of the attack. At this point the cheer coach walked up and the two adults began an unpleasant exchange of words.



I was relieved when the bickering stopped and I could pass through the gate. As I found a spot on the cold metal bleachers, the words of these two women replayed in my mind. I was disappointed in their behavior. Did they realize the impact their barbed, disrespectful words had on the young people watching?

Why had I arrived 30 minutes early? It certainly wasn't because I loved soccer. I was pretty certain that in 2 1/2 hours my back would sorely complain at having sat for so long without support. Speaking of support, where were the other parents? I mentally counted the players from both teams, warming up on the field. I added the number of cheerleaders & poms. More than 50 students were involved in this event. Not counting friends, siblings, grandparents or other significant people, if only one parent from each family represented showed up, shouldn't I be able to find 50 spectators? Again I pondered what messages we, as adults, were sending to our children.

"Ladies & Gentlemen, please rise for our National Anthem." The voice from the P.A. system startled me. I rose and turned to face the flag. As the rousing music rang forth I noticed hands on hearts, hats removed, everyone standing at attention. My eyes began to tear. My thoughts turned to my father-in-law. He was a fighter pilot in the Korean War. He witnessed the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air.

Below the flag was the concession stand and the restrooms. At that moment, a gentleman exited the latrine. He immediately turned, removed his hat, placed his hand on his heart and began singing along. Patriotism was still alive.

After the game began, a few more parents and students filed into the stadium. I listened to various conversations around me. I was a little embarrassed at some of the things I heard. Right before the 2 minute warning of half-time, one parent began screaming, "Stop the clock! Stop the clock!" The announcer must have been tired of hearing the complaints, shouts, and insults. He addressed her shouting.

"The clock is not stopped unless the referee signals. There was no signal." I would have been ashamed for being so obnoxious. This parent was not and yelled back, "that was why I was yelling at the ref! I wanted him to signal." I cringed. A group of 20 or so students had gathered to watch the game. They turned their heads in unison to see that this parent was from the opposing team.

The cheerleaders began a cheer. I clapped along. I noticed a girl wearing her softball jersey. She tapped the boy sitting next to her and said, "it's the cheerleaders job to get the crowd enthusiastic about our team, to cheer them on and support them. Come on and get with it." He did, as did most of the other students.

I hadn't noticed the couple sitting behind me. They must have come during the 2 minutes before the half. I took note when the woman spoke wearily, "I guess I can sit through a few more cheers." I wanted to turn and see who she was-hoping it was not the parent of a cheerleader. It wasn't. As she continued talking loudly, I realized her son was a soccer player.

The signal for the end of the half rang out. The cheerleaders gathered and sat at the edge of the field. This woman spoke mockingly, "what are they doing sitting down? Where is our half-time entertainment?" It was obvious that she was annoyed at having to endure what she perceived as silly girls.

I churned inside. I wanted to swing around and tell her that the reason the cheerleaders were sitting down on the field is because they were supporting their school. The poms were making their way to the field and it was the poms who danced at half time. The cheerleaders and poms were there to cheer and encourage not only one another, but mostly to support the soccer team. I wanted to tell her to ask her son if he appreciated the support he got from the poms and cheers. I wanted to tell her that my son played on the Varsity Lacrosse team for 4 years in high school. He and his team would have been thrilled and overjoyed to have the support of the cheerleaders. My son told me on numerous occasions how encouraged he felt when he heard his own dad's shouts of cheer from the sidelines.

I didn't say anything. I was too busy getting my camera out to videotape my daughter's pom routine.

My thoughts would not be quiet. As I heard this woman again, I wanted to whip around and tell her that I'd sat here watching her son play for the last 45 minutes. I'd cheered & clapped. Where had she been during most of that first half? Could she not respect my daughter's 2 minutes of dancing? Did she think I was there because I was a huge fan of high school soccer? I was suprised how angry I was. Then it hit me.

Was I any different than the cheer coach who tried to defend her girls from the barrage of words hurled at them by the gatekeeper? I understood her passion. I didn't understand the adults who chose to be disrespectful of our kids and others. Were my thoughts towards this woman as wrong as her words towards the girls? Did this count as righteous indignation?

The coach who'd argued with the gate keeper hadn't raised her voice. She had been reasonable. The coach had merely pointed out that the woman just needed to ask the girls politely and they would comply. I don't think she'd intended for the exchange to go on as long as it had. The gatekeeper had continued to disparage the girls as if they'd been naughty children. She fired back that the rules were the same from year to year and these girls knew them. The bewildered coach interrupted that many of the girls were new to the squad and this was their first game. The gatekeeper didn't care, didn't believe it. She seemed bent on proving that teenagers were miserable creatures. I wonder if the coaches reaction emerged from her shock at the disrespectful behavior from this adult. The same disappointed confusion I felt throughout the game.

Where was the loyalty, respect, and support for the school and students that I'd seen for the flag and National Anthem? I am proud of the youth. They displayed integrity throughout the night. These are not the kids who give teenagers a bad name.

A Contradiction

I enjoy a good, hot cup of coffee. I don't mind paying a little more for expensive beans to fresh grind every day. Add some creamer (or better yet real half & half) & I'm in heaven.

I was very disappointed when Coffee-Mate quit making Vanilla Nut Creamer. This wass my all time favorite. After trying another brand with great disappointment, I decided to buy half & half. I noticed one carton on sale so grabbed it and headed home. Big mistake! This is what I purchased:

I don't know if you can read the label, but it says "Fat Free Half & Half" How is this possible? Half & Half by definition is half cream/half milk. To be legally called Half & Half the butterfat content must be between 10.5% and 18%. So how can they call it fat free???

After reading the ingredients I'll tell you. This so-called half & half is made from skim milk. Yep, you read that right. Skim. I don't buy skim milk to drink, why would I want the watery stuff in my coffee parading around as if it was lovely, light cream?

Tommorrow I'm starting my day with rich, strong, straight,black coffee.

Perspective

Pitter Patter


If you've been reading here for awhile, you know of my love affair. I try not to let a day go by, without taking him for a spin. He's always available. He waits with anticipation, in his cozy garage, until we connect and off we go. This particular day was no different.


I was in a bit of a hurry and was thinking more of my destination than the time spent together. I turned the key, pushed the start button, shifted into 1st, and revved the engine. What was that? It sounded like he was complaining. Rattle, rattle. I revved again. It was a bit quieter. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. How could he betray me like this? We've only been together for 18 months. Isn't this still the honeymoon phase? I take such good care of him, shouldn't he be purring like a well fed cat?



Hmmm...He does sit quite low to the ground. I had hit that speed bump, in the dorm parking lot, a bit hard. I'd heard a small scrape as I passed. But what is enough to cause damage? Had I knocked something loose? I didn't have time for this! Get over your hurt feelings and let's move on-I have things to do.


I pulled out of the garage and into the street. Clunk. What was that? It sounded like a piece of metal hitting the pavement. I reversed back into the driveway. With the engine running, I opened the door to the house. "Do you hear that? It's making an awful rattling noise."




Michael suggested it might be the air conditioning. I switched it off and revved. Nope. It was still clattering. His advice was to leave my friend at home and take the Suburban. Grrr...my pride wouldn't let go.




I marched into the street to see if I could find anything. This was laying in the street.









It didn't look like anything that belonged to my car. I wondered if somehow it fell out of my car. I could think of only one place it could have been hiding. I grabbed a flashlight to make an inspection. I peered in the 1st hole. Nothing. I looked in the second. Inside it appeared as if something had fallen into the pipe. I pulled this out.







It all make sense now. A certain little boy is fascinated with cars. He also loves to figure things out. My guess is, at his height he took a look at my car. He saw two perfectly good holes and wondered what should go inside.


Sitting right there behind him were some fine looking tools that fit nicely. He must have popped them in place feeling very proud of himself. (Thanks Ethan for getting my heart racing!)

Once removed, the rattling subsided. We drove off in harmony once again.

Grandparents Day

Since I didn't grow up celebrating Grandparent's Day, I wondered when it first became official. National Grandparents Day was created in 1978 by a federal proclamation, passed by Congress and signed by President Jimmy Carter. According to the National Grandparents Day Council, Grandparents Day has a threefold purpose:

-To honor grandparents
-To give grandparents an opportunity to show love for their children’s children.
-To help children become aware of the strength, information and guidance older people can offer.

I also found out that there is an official song for Grandparent's Day:

"A SONG FOR GRANDMA AND GRANDPA"
by Johnny Prill


Chorus:
Oh Grandma, Grandpa, you know that I love you
I love all those little things that you say and do
A walk through the park, a trip to the zoo
Oh Grandma, Grandpa I love you

Verse One:
Going to a ball game, fishing on the lake
Eating Grandma’s cookies, boy they sure taste great
Going to the circus when it comes to town
Eating cotton candy and laughing at the clowns

Chorus:
Oh Grandma, Grandpa, you know that I love you
I love all those little things that you say and do
A hug and a kiss, a ride home from school
Oh Grandma, Grandpa I love you

Verse Two:
Spending time together, talking on the phone
Happy birthday presents, chocolate ice cream cones
Photographs and memories, picnics and parades
Saying that you love me in so many ways

Chorus:
Oh Grandma, Grandpa, you know that I love you
I love all those little things that you say and do
The stories you tell, things I never knew
Oh Grandma, Grandpa I love you
Oh Grandma, Grandpa I love you – I love you – I love you

So Happy Grandparents' Day!!!

Sarabeth

It's hard to believe you're a senior in high school. It won't be long before you pack up your treasures and are off to college.






When others played in the sprinkler, you were happy in a bucket of water. I am proud of you for staying true to your convictions, for not going along with the crowd. March to the beat of the drum you hear-as you’ve always done. Dance to the music played for you. Know that I'm always here for you, but trust God above all else.

I had an encounter yesterday.

I had the privilege of meeting a lovely lady IRL (in real life) from blogland. Those of you who read her blog will be envious. Mopsy from Lifenut invited me to a unique little coffee & tea shop. For many, Mopsy has achieved near celebrity status in blogland. She is an excellent writer, clever, witty-if you haven't read her blog, check it out.

I took my camera to get a photo of the two of us together, but was too busy chatting & being entertained by her 3 youngest children to remember. Her boys were very charming while they ate their chocolate donuts and chocolate milk. (Who wouldn't be charming with that much chocolate?) Beatrix was a doll!

Mopsy is just as pretty in person as she is in photos. She has shared so much of herself via her blog, it was as if I met up with an old friend. Thanks Mopsy for the coffee and a lovely morning.

Wednesday
I wanted to post a wordless wednesday, but I couldn't do it.

Ethan is a smart boy! He loves to ride in my car, but knows he needs his booster seat. He snuck into the garage. I went to find him and he was already in the car. Do you think he wants to drive???

Signs Your Teen Is Text Messaging Too Much

Hilary is social. She likes to talk. She talks in her sleep. Now that she has a cell phone and unlimited text messages, most of her chatting is done via her thumbs. (Okay, the whole family has unlimited text messaging. And yes, this the preferred method of calling my family to dinner.)

I should have known when her fancy little phone never left her fingers that she was probably text messaging too much. (Or when she dropped it in the toilet.)

The second clue should have been when I overheard this conversation:

"So how many text messages have you sent this month?"

"Oh, like maybe 500."

"Maybe? Just check."

"Ok, I have used 497. What about you?"

"3011."

Did she really say 3000? This month isn't over yet. She has over a week to break this record.

The other night we got into a discussion about embarrassing moments. We all agreed that sending a text message to the wrong person was the worst. Sarabeth had plenty of these faux pas-when she sent me a text message saying, "guess who El is having lunch with? Josh." She then promptly sent it to Elisabeth instead of me. Hilary couldn't recall having one of those moments.

The next morning she comes upstairs carrying her phone looking puzzled. "I had a very strange message on my phone when I woke up. All it said was, 'what?' I figured I must have sent someone the wrong message. So I checked."

Apparently, she received a text message after she'd fallen asleep. It stirred her enough that she picked up her phone and sent one back-without ever waking up! My daughter can now say she has officially text messaged in her sleep. I wouldn't recommend it. Although she did text two real words, the rest was in indiscernible dream language.

I think it may be time to cut back on text messaging. It's one thing to talk in your sleep, only your family hears, but when she starts talking text message for the world to hear...who knows what she might say? And really, who's going to believe the excuse that she didn't know what she was doing?

Wordless Wednesday

I'm Not From The South

I was making dinner the other night when Sarabeth came in and asked, "what are we having for dinner?"

My response, "Fried Chicken." She turned and looked at me quizzically.

"What is fried chicken?"

Are my kids deprived?

Job

No, I didn't go out and get a job. I have been reading the book of Job. Have you read this book in the bible? The poor man lost his family, his house, his livelihood-basically everything. Afterwards, his body broke out in sores from head to foot. Can you imagine the pain of raw open wounds? I've had bad days, but not this devastating.

But isn't it interesting that what started Job's troubles is God bragging about him? Am I living my life in such a way that my heavenly Father stands in heaven boasting of my integrity? Could that last difficult trial have been His way of showing me off? And yet my response was not what He had hoped. I endured, maybe complained. I allowed myself to become stressed out, forgetting God's sovereignty. Of course had I known that my trial was just to prove how much integrity I had, I'd have performed better. Ah, but this is where it gets sticky. That trial did indeed show what I was made of, how much integrity I really did have (or didn't.)

A trial is a good thing. It is a guage that shows me what my relationship looks like. I can see clearly whether or not I really trust God or whether I just think I do.

Whew! I've got a long way to go.

First Day Back-to-School

(Wordless Wednesday)

P.S. I hope to be back to regular blogging next week. School starts on Wednesday.

Another Tearful Phone Call

Elisabeth was on campus this morning to finish her paperwork for her fall semester. She didn't really want to be there. She's been struggling with a back injury and the treatments are painful. The doctor says this is normal and the injections will cause more pain before it feels better. But today was the final day to finish up the paperwork.

So the phone call goes something like this:

"What are you doing, Mom?"

"Just emptying the dishwasher, what about you?"

"Yeah, I finished up my paperwork." I can tell her voice sounds funny.

"Great! Where are you? Are you still at school?"

Her voice cracks.

"Yes....(pause)...they won't let us leave. I don't know what is happening." At this point, I can tell she is starting to cry.

"What is going on?"

"They say we are on lockdown and I can't go to my car. My back hurts real bad and I just don't know what is going on."

I do my best to console her not really sure what is going on. I hang up the phone and turn the on the t.v. A report of the lockdown is on the screen.

Police were chasing armed robbery suspects. A crash occured near the campus and the armed suspects fled on foot. The campus was locked down as police continue to search for the suspects. I text message my daughter to let her know what is going on, I know she is too teary to talk. And now we wait. This isn't the same world as when I was growing up.

Chalk Drawings

Sarabeth, Hilary, and I spent last weekend making chalk drawings for Ethan. Spiderman was his favorite.

Dumb

Boy do I feel dumb!

I recently emailed the editor of a local T.V. news program. I also view their news website. In the past few months, I'd noticed a lot of editing errors. For example:





A Muder Suspect Was Apprehended





Crocs to agrees to buy Bite Footwear





Another news headline had Israel spelled "Isreal"





I received a reply to my email that it was being sent to the "proper People." Those proper ones must have laughed their heads off when they read my complaint. I hadn't bothered to proofread before so smugly sending it. There before me were 2 glaring typos. Hmmm...pride goes before a fall.

Award

Blogger Reflection Award: this award should make an individual reflect upon five bloggers who have been an encouragement, a source of love, impacted you in some way, and who have provided a Godly example. In other words, five dear bloggers whom, when you reflect upon them, you are filled with a sense of pride and joy. . .of knowing them and being blessed by them.

Lori, at View From Our Porch Swing posted this on her blog after being nominated. She went on to give me this award with these encouraging words: Joanne is a beautiful faithfilled woman. She's very intelligent and carries a very tender heart. She has 5 beautiful children and has been blessed with a beautiful grandchild. Hearing about her wonderful family puts a smile on my face. She's truly an inspiration to me. I am so honored to have the opportunity to choose you, Joanne, for this wonderful award.

I don't know what to say. I felt blessed, honored, and humbled. I'd like to share the same encouragement with 5 fellow bloggers. Before I do, I'd like to say Lori is a lovely lady. Please visit her blog if you haven't already. She is such an inspiration!

Here are my 5 choices: Heth @ From Under The Laundry Pile. Heather is a young mom of 7 little clothes wearers. She was one of the first people to comment on my blog. Her sweet comments on every one of my posts encouraged me to keep blogging. As busy as I know she must be, her posts reflect grace and a love for her family. Some of my favorite posts are the way she tenderly describes her growing up years, especially the faith of her father. Heather knows how to have fun and create laughter within her home. I was very blessed to meet Heather online AND in real life.

"We were filled with laughter,and we sang for joy. And the other nations said, 'What amazing things the Lord has done for them." Psalm 126:2
Carolanne @ C Outside The Box. Carolanne lives in Australia. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and shares it generously. Not only does she share online, but with her students. Carolanne is a teacher. She doesn't teach with words alone, although she expresses herself wonderfully through words. Others learn about love & faith through her actions. Carolanne is one you can trust to be open and honest. She is a trusted friend. Oh, and she's also a great photographer.

"My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise you." (Psalm 63:5)
Mopsy @ Lifenut. Mopsy is another young mom with lots of children. Mopsy is a deep thinker. She motivates me to dig a little deeper. She's walked through a few valleys and mountaintops, but her faith shines brightly at all times. As we walk through this life, we encounter bruising. Mopsy displays her bruises courageously-which makes her so very approachable.
She is a great mom to her children, creating wonderful memories for them.

"Her husband can trust her, and she will greatly enrich his life." Proverbs 31:11

Singing Owl @ The Owl's Song This lovely lady is not afraid to step out and be bold. (How else could she maintain her position as a pastor?) She tackles difficult subjects with grace and speaks the truth in love. Her newest title is grandma. Her granddaughter has increased her life with more love and nurturing. Singing Owl is filled with joy and shares it with others.

"Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Thy sight, O LORD, my Strength and my Redeemer." Psalm 19:14

Anne of Cooking With Anne & The Rest Of Me. Anne is the mom of 7 and is a wonderful chef who shares her expertise with all. She prepares delicious meals for her family (a woman after my own heart!) She inspires me to experiment more in my own cooking and introduces me to things I've never heard of. She has a gift for hospitality and giving. I think her gentleness and kindness came from her dad, that she so lovingly speaks of and who went to be with the Lord last year.

"In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths." Proverbs 3:6

Can I really only pick 5???? This leaves out so very many bloggers that regularly encourage me. I wanted to list a whole lot of them, but I'm afraid I might miss someone and leave them out and I would hate to hurt anyone's feelings. I will try and update my blog link and add those who aren't already there. I'm looking forward to seeing who these ladies pass encouragement on to (and no, you don't have to add a scripture, that is just something I chose to do.)

And of course, if I could have chosen Lori I would have. And I'd post this verse for her. "But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." Joshua 24:15

Sights & Sounds

Sights & Sounds Sunday

Paper plates & colored markers are so much fun.

Thanks Mom & Dad!

Thanks Mom & Dad!

For Pom Practice, we carpool with another girl. The other day, Hilary related how unpleasant the drive home was. The other girl, I'll call her Hannah, has her permit. Her mother decided to let her drive home. Apparently, as she merged onto the highway, Hannah cut another car off nearly causing an accident. For the rest of the drive, the mother berated her daughter for her foolishness. Hilary said, "mom, it was so awkward! Poor Hannah was trying to drive but she was crying so hard. Why would her mom do that?"

In my mind, I can hardly imagine what the mother was thinking. Couldn't she have waited until they got home? If the near miss scared her, why wasn't she concerned about distracting her daughter's driving with her non-stop criticism? Did she think her daughter would be more focused through sobs and tears?

I am not a perfect parent. My parents were not perfect parents. But I am thankful, that it was not their habit of berating us for mistakes or wrong doings. In a tense or stressful situation we will often revert back to our early training and parent accordingly.

When something awful happens, I am not tempted to swear. I am always surprised when I hear foul language spewing forth from an otherwise "normal" parent. Once again, I have my own parents to thank. It certainly isn't anything within myself. It's just that my parents didn't swear when they were angry or upset. Consequently, when autopilot kicks in during a difficult moment, 4 letter words do not spill out.

I just hope that somehow I have provided good habits and examples for my own children. And with that hope, comes the belief that my grandchildren will benefit. Afterall, my children have enjoyed the benefit that came from having grandparents who parented with integrity, kindness, and love. Thanks Mom & Dad!

PBJ

When you hear PBJ what comes to mind? Two slices of soft Wonder Bread with grape jelly on one side and creamy peanut butter on the other? Firmer whole wheat brown bread with peach preserves and chunky PB? My husband skips the jelly and goes for banana and honey instead. He's taught the kids to like his PBH's. How many PBJ's have you eaten in a lifetime?

I didn't grow up eating PBJ's. In fact, I had my very first one when I was 28 years old. Yes, you read that right. I was nearly 30 before my teeth sunk into two slices of bread with slathers of salty peanut butter & sweet, gooey, grape jelly sandwiched in between. I would have stopped after the first bite, but was having lunch with a friend. What kind of an example would I have set if I had refused to eat what I'd been served? So I did what I would have expected my children to do, I politely ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Don't get me wrong, I love peanut butter. But who in their right mind would ruin it by adding brightly colored jam or jelly? I want to say that I like my peanut butter good and salty-crunchy too. But that isn't totally true. I wonder what a PBJ would taste like if it wasn't jelly on the sandwich but a good squeeze of Hershey's chocolate atop the Peanut Butter.

MMmmmm....maybe I could learn to love this new version of PBJ's.

Cute

Five Things I Must Remember

1) Never think or believe I am more than one person. I am not. I cannot do the job of 20 people.

2) Just because a family member won't be home for 10 hours and out-of-town guests are gone for the day, I don't have time to paint and redecorate a bedroom. This is NOT While You Were Out or Extreme Makeover:Home Edition. Ty Pennington's entourage is not outside in a trailer with experienced designers & big, brawny men to do the work.

3) It is never a good idea to shake a gallon of paint. I've seen the shaking machines at the hardware store in action. No matter how much I dance and jump around, I cannot replicate this. That is why the nice gentleman handed me those wooden stirring sticks.

4) It doesn't matter how tightly the lid appears to be on the can of paint. If it slips from my hands and falls to the floor, the lid will magically pop off. Yes, paint cans do explode on impact.

5) No matter how well I believe I have covered the carpet and furniture before painting,it isn't enough. That two inches of brand new bedspread hanging below the plastic? The area of carpet in the middle of the room that is safe from wall drips? These things are magnets for flying paint.

P.S. Happy 23rd Birthday Christopher! I didn't forget about you while I was desperately trying to redo Sarabeth's bedroom (for her 18th birthday, that was in June.) I really did send you a card overnight express, I'm sorry it didn't arrive.

Choices

Quiet here, at least for the moment. I've enjoyed a glorious week with all 5 of my children home, plus my grandson Ethan. I'm happiest when my house is full and running over. To add to the mix, Michael's sister is visiting with her husband and 2 children. I'd forgotten, though, that in trying to accomodate a bunch, that sometimes means having to make difficult choices.

Not knowing how many would be here for dinner, both ovens were fired up and baking away. It would be an eat and run dinner, as we were to watch Hilary's dance performance at 7:00. She was leaving early Friday morning for Pom Camp where they hoped to qualify for Nationals. The girls have worked hard. Practicing 2-3 hours, 5 days a week and spending their Saturdays on fund raisers, it was finally time to show off all they'd accomplished. Hilary was excited to share it with us.

Just before we sat down to eat, Christina comes running into the house with Ethan. "MOM! Ethan was caught in a swarm of bees!" She'd found one sting on his wrist so she ran it under cold water while I found the Benadryl gel. After a few minutes, Ethan began to look like one of those cartoon characters with the distorted faces. His lips were swelling, his chin was twice its normal size-on one side of his face. It was a bit scary to look at him. This time I grabbed the liquid benadryl and forced down the proper dosage, while Christina prepared to whisk him off to the emergency room. I held him in my arms wanting so badly to make things all better for him.

But what about Hilary? I couldn't miss her performance. How does a mom/grandma be in 2 places at once? I had to allow Ethan's grandpa to fill in for me, while I stayed home and served dinner.

I noticed Elisabeth was a bit down. I asked her if she was going with us, but she said no. She'd made other plans because no one told her about the dance. I argued with her for a few moments about changing her plans, when I realized she was having a crisis of her own. I wanted to stay and talk to her about it, but ended up leaving.

As I drove, I found myself tearing up. I prayed for Ethan and hoped his throat was not closing up and he was breathing ok. I prayed for Elisabeth and the situation she was struggling through. I arrived at the school feeling very undone. I wanted to feel excitement for Hilary, but it wasn't easy with so much on my heart and mind.

I'm sure there are plenty of people who would tell me that is one reason NOT to have lots of kids, that I can't possibly be there for all of them. For a second I would feel guilty. I do want to be there for them. But in the end, I know I can't. That is when each of them will have to rely not on their mom or dad, but on their Heavenly Father to be with them. I know I can stand on this reassurance, but as a mom, I still want to be there for them.

Happy 4th

Happy 4th of July!

It has been terribly busy. My kids are all here, as well as Ethan some cousins, siblings and such. Here are a couple of pics of Ethan and my niece.

Text Messaging

Text messaging is the preferred communication of choice at the puzzle home. Each member possesses a cell phone. We've enjoyed competing in text message competitions, checking to see who has sent the most text messages in a month and other text sporting events. (I can't recall for sure, but I believe the winner of the most text messages in a month was around 3000.) I wish I hadn't deleted the 90 or so I had saved on my phone yesterday. But I will share a few tidbits from this week.

A few I received today:

10:08a.m. "Ethan just threw up at the eye doctor's office." Christina (Wish I hadn't been eating my breakfast.
11:17a.m. "It came out of no where. He seems ok now." Christina (Nice to hear.)
11:55a.m. "ok, he just threw up again." Christina (This might fall into the too much information category.)
12:04p.m. "Too bad we are out." (meaning not at home) Christina

I came home from shopping on Wednesday and Sarabeth asks me if I got her text. I checked my phone. Nope, I didn't get one. "Oh no, I sent you a message asking you if you knew that Elisabeth went out to lunch with Josh? Remember Josh? Oh no, I think I might have sent it to Elisabeth." She checks her phone. Sure enough. The message intended to dish out the dirt on Elisabeth was actually sent to Elisabeth. She responded back, "yes, I do know I am having lunch with Josh today." Text messaging can be so tricky.

Ethan

A Father's Day

"Mom, what is Father's Day?" Five year old Jacob asked.

"Oh you know, it is a day to honor fathers, the same as mother's day. Remember the nice card you made me? We bought grandma flowers and a book and spent the day with her. Then we went to dinner at that nice salad place. On Father's Day we'll have a cookout at Grandpa's house. Your grandpa loves cookouts."

"Isn't there a kids' day where we get presents and cards and get to do what we want?"

"Every day is kids day," Jenny answered, as she tossled his blond curls. "Now go brush your teeth or I'm going to be late for work." She smiled as she watched her little boy flex his superman muscles, then run to brush his superhero teeth.

As they drove towards Jacob's daycare center, Jenny was thinking about taking off early so she could take her car in for an oil change. She really needed to keep her car in good running condition.

"Mom, why don't I have a dad?" Jacob's question caught her off guard. While she desperately tried to come up with a reasonable answer, he continued. "I was supposed to bring a picture of my dad to school today. But I don't have a picture because I don't have a dad. I told Miss Sarah that but she just said, don't be silly. Everyone has a dad, even if he doesn't live with you.' Mom, do I have a dad that doesn't live with me? Or is it just you and me?"

Jenny's eyes began to sting as they filled with tears. She had a busy day ahead of her. She needed to concentrate on the traffic around her. She wanted to forget her past. She did not want her little boy to be sad. She didn't want him to be embarrassed at not having a dad. Fumbling for a tissue with one hand in her purse, she glanced in her rearview mirror. Jacob's brown eyes looked up at hers as he waited for a response.

STUCK

I HOPE TO BE BACK LATER TO POST, BUT FIRST I HAVE TO CLEAN THE JUICE FROM MY KEYBOARD THAT IS CAUSING MY SHIFT KEY TO STICK. DID YOU NOTICE?

Short Update

Sarabeth is laughing now. She was officially hired yesterday and starts work tomorrow. Christina and Ethan are fine. The man that lives next door was allegedly threatening violence, so the police stepped in and took control of the situation. This afternoon they are driving up so Ethan will see the new toy I bought him. (It's my privilege as Gramma to have new things for him everytime he comes to visit.)

Lastly, we celebrated Grandpa's 84th birthday yesterday. He received his first digital camera. I'm thinking it is time for him to start a blog of his own to keep everyone up-to-date on life in Colorado. Afterall, who better to capture the essence of moving to a new state and community?

Happy Birthday to my dear dad-in-law. It's been so great having you live so close-I understand my husband so much better and why he does the things he does. (At least where he learned them from.)

Phone Call

Another Phone Call You Don't Want To Get

A few minutes ago, I received a phone call from my daughter's apartment manager. After identifying herself she asked,

"Does your daughter have a cell phone number? The police are here and there is an incident. She needs to vacate the apartment immediately."

Why don't I have these numbers memorized??? With cell phones and the latest technology there just doesn't seem to be a reason to remember phone numbers, especially multiple numbers for one person.

But I am thankful for several things:

1. That in spite of the obstacles, Christina started a 4 week-long class this past Monday. So she wasn't at home.

2. Ethan's CNA who is scheduled to care for him had an emergency trip out of town. So she wan't there either.

3. Christina chose not to have a substitute CNA care for Ethan today. Instead, he went to his former caregiver's home. Ethan did not have to be escorted out of the apartment by the police surrounded by strangers in a scary situation.

4. That God knows what each day holds, and makes provision for us.

Nervous

Sarabeth went for her very first job interview ever. I was impressed with how well she did. She was comfortable enough to joke with the interviewer. If you've known Sarabeth for any length of time, you would be very impressed too. For those who don't know, she was affectionately known as the velcro baby. (Never wanting to leave my side and disliked strangers-that included everyone but me. )

During the interview Sarabeth was given a list of requirements. She found them a bit amusing. "Do you really have to tell some people that it is necessary to wear deodorant?" She queried, wanting to laugh out loud.

She came home gleeful, with her second interview this past Monday. It was more of a formality, at least we hope. Prior to her going to this second interview, we'd been talking about what her new job would be like. Her dad mentioned that it is not a far drive and she could easily make it in 15 minutes. Apparently she took that to heart and left for the interview 20 minutes til, but ran into traffic. She ended up 5 minutes late.

She was asked a few questions by a stoic man and given paperwork to be drug tested. One of the questions he asked was, "Are you normally a late person?"

Her response was "no." She isn't. She arrived a half an hour early for her first interview. His next question was, "have you ever had a detention?" I know she was nervous. She is also a stickler for following rules-honesty being one of them. Her response was "yes." His eyebrow raised as he looked up.

"And what did you receive a detention for?"

"Tardies."

Afterwards she wanted to scream. She thought she looked like she'd been dishonest. The truth is, she DID receive a detention for having 3 tardies. It was in the EIGHTH grade. Her school is strict about tardies. But for the past 3 years she has completed 6 classes per day, 5 days a week, without ever getting 3 tardies again. Of course, the stoic man did not know this. All he heard was she'd had a detention for her tardiness, even though she said she was an on time person. And he knew she was 5 minutes late for their appointment.

Someday she will laugh about this.

National Child's Day

National Child's Day

Last year on June 1st, President George W. Bush gave a proclamation 8026: "I, do hereby proclaim June 4th as National Child's Day. I call upon citizens to observe this day with appropriate ceremonies and activities. I also urge all the people of the United States to take an active role in helping nurture the minds and character of our nation's children."

Even if you missed this, like I did, I think we should make up for it. Let's celebrate all month. It doesn't matter if your child is a day old or 50. Celebrate each one of them. Can you think of a better occasion to have chocolate..., err... a party?

Questions

The Woman tagged me a few weeks ago with this meme. She was given 5 random questions and to play along she assigned 5 new questions. (She chose HARD questions, lol.) At the end I will pick 5 new questions and anyone that wants to play along can use those questions.

1. Do you have a signature scent? Something that when someone gets a whiff they think of you?

No, but I would love to have one. Any ideas?

2. Have you ever told a lie that severed a friendship? Romance?

If I did, I certainly can't recall.
3. You are granted a day to help mankind. You can be either a cup, a shovel, or a tire pump. Which one will you choose and why?

Definately a cup. I could offer a cold cup of water to a dying man, or quench the thirst of a hard-working one. I could brighten someone's day as the hot coffee warms her heart and hands. I could be a delicious cup of milk offered to a child to dunk his cookies. Helping mankind? Well, I don't know.

4. Are you ticklish? If so, does anyone else know?

Yes. My sister and I used to tickle each others feet at night to see who would laugh first.
5. Congratulations! You have just won one million dollars! Only one catch. You're not allowed to spend the money on the house, husband or the kids (including grandkids!). How will you spend the money?
Does that mean I have to spend it on myself or that I can give it all away? I'd be very generous with my church and parachurch organizations. I'd adopt as many kids as I could and provide the money for others to do the same. I'd send others out on missions to help children and others.
Now it's your turn:
1. If you could spend a day "just having fun" what would you do?

2. If you wrote a book about your life, what would the title be?

3. What is your favorite meal, dessert included?

4. Regrets? If you could change something from your past what would it be?

5. If you could drive any car in the world, what would you choose and what color?

Quiet

Ah, I sit her sipping hot coffee, the house is oh-so-quiet. I enjoy quiet time to collect my thoughts and sanity, to pray and read my bible. But today it seems too quiet.

Yesterday was the last day of school for my girls, so we are officially in summer mode. On Wednesday I was celebrating that I had only 2 more early morning lunch-makings for this year. Then I realized that Friday was a half-day and it was only 1 day left. (Did I really yell "Woohoo" and dance around the kitchen?)

I called Christina to see if she and Ethan were coming up this weekend. I was disappointed that they weren't. To celebrate the end of school, I wanted to take the 4 girls to get pedicures. I thought it would be fun. They didn't feel up to it.

So here I sit on Saturday morning alone. My oldest 2 have graduated from college and will not be coming home for the summer-will probably never move back. At the moment, my 3rd and 5th are housesitting. My 4th left early this morning to take the SAT test. It is too quiet.

Friday morning I was sitting at my computer. Michael walked in, gave me a hug, and said, "this is so sad."

"What?" (I'm thinking he realized that it won't be long before our kids are all grown up.)

"This is the last morning I'll see you up so early."

I was looking forward to sleeping in this summer. Is this what I have to look forward to when my kids are all grown? Quiet and more quiet? I better decide what I'm going to do when I grow up. It's a good thing parents and grandparents have a way of becoming needy as they get older. Otherwise I don't know what I'd do with myself.

Graduation Day

To the gentleman (who really wasn't) sitting behind us on Graduation Day, I wanted to tell you a few things.

When we took our seats, we didn't see you sitting there behind us. You must have come in later. But surely you noticed my young grandson sitting with us. He was there before we arrived, as was the little boy in front of us. If you thought it might be a problem, why didn't you sit somewhere else? Since you didn't I can only surmise that you were either neglectful in choosing your seat, or you thought you were a member of the noise patrol.

I too am very sensitive to noise and other distractions. I find it especially difficult during church with people moving around whispering and the occasional crying child. My solution is to sit in the 1st or second pew. When I sit up front I don't miss a thing and distractions are rare.

I'm pretty confident that when you saw the movement of my grandson, that you assumed he was an undisciplined, ill-behaved child. He is tall for his age and often mistaken for a boy of 6 or 7. He will be 5 this summer. Ethan (that's my grandson,) was very patient through the ceremony. He sat in my lap for most of the first hour and a half. Yes, he squirmed a bit, but he was mostly quiet. He was very well behaved.

I'll admit, right before the graduates walked across the stage to receive their diplomas, he did get down from my lap. He interacted with each of my children, smiling and grinning at each one. Occasionally a little giggle escaped. I think it was those giggles that you found so annoying.

Maybe you couldn't tell that Ethan is a special needs child. He doesn't talk yet and his only form of communication is gestures and noise. His giggles are music to our ears, it says he is happy.

Was this graduation not a happy time for you? Were you not there,as we were, to celebrate the joyous occasion of seeing our loved ones receive a Bachelor of Arts in Ministry? These graduates are ready to begin pastoring churches. They've spent many years preparing to be ministers of the gospel. The Gospel.

I wonder what Jesus would have thought as you so loudly hissed a shuuuush. I do believe the entire sanctuary heard you. I recall another time when some men were rather annoyed with little children in their midst. A wise man said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Jesus. I believe He is the author of the Gospel.

And just in case you didn't know: the pastor of the very church we were celebrating in was also sitting behind us. In your same pew. He is a wise man. He once said the sweetest sound ever heard in church are the sounds of a happy, young child. I do hope our recent graduates remember the wise words of Jesus and not some angry man from their graduation.

Can You Guess

Can you guess what my family is doing? (Yes, they are in my kitchen throwing something. Sorry it is such poor quality. It was taken with my phone, as I couldn't find the video camera.)

Congrats

Congratulations Christina

My lovely daughter graduated on Sunday with her Bachelor of Arts in Ministry. We are so proud of her hard work and diligence. One day I just might be announcing we have a Pastor in the family! (Of course, we already do.) Congratulations Christina, you are amazing!

Yes, my kids are goofs.

My Brother

Greg

Can you all stand one more video? Several years ago I heard this song and immediately thought of my brother. He was a tough little boy but has become a wonderful father to 2 little girls and a step-son. Oh the stories I could tell you about growing up with him. (Hmmm...that gives me some ideas for blogging!) Anyway, here it is-and if my brother didn't have dial-up, he could see it too. He will have to wait for the DVD I will send him.



A side note: Greg didn't get married until he was 42 years old. He wed his high school sweetheart and has 2 beautiful girls with her and I am their godmother~

80

Happy 80th Birthday

Life At 80

Life At 80

(No, I'm not 80)

When I turn 80, I'm going to sleep in or take naps whenever I want. When I wake up, I'll lounge in my silk pajamas.

I'll sip coffee that someone else has made and soak in the beauty of the morning.

At 80, I'll do my hair once a week, and look lovely wearing silver locks.

By the time I reach 80, I will have learned to appreciate the little things in life. I'll be surrounded by kids, grandkids and great grandkids to enjoy and love.

By my 80th birthday I'll be kind and wise. I will have learned when to speak and when to listen and I will do them both well.

I will celebrate every chance I get. I'll attend Happy Hour with friends and laugh a lot. I'll keep my sense of humor. I'll be friendly and generous to those around me-maybe to the point that some might think I'm a crazy old lady.

At 80, it won't matter how good my health is, I will choose to be joyous. I'll work on puzzles, take walks-maybe in the pool, and look for the good in every situation. I'll forgive others and not be bitter.

I will laugh and cry. I'll read good books and keep my mind sharp. I'll keep my weight even, but will find a way to enjoy dessert every day. I might have chocolate cake before dinner.

And at 80, I'll probably still love Mexican Food and have it served for my 80th birthday. And if I do these things, I will be just like my mother-in-law. Her birthday is today.

Happy 80th Birthday!!!!

Wordless Wednesday