Go Broncos

Go Broncos!

If you are a Denver Bronco fan, there isn't much more explanation needed. Today is a big day. If they win against the Steelers we will be in the Super Bowl. When they get this far, though, everyone becomes a fan-even if they are not football fans.

I've always liked football, but coming from Arizona (back when they didn't have a team) I didn't understand what Bronco fever was. It didn't take long to become a Denver Bronco fan. I have home video of my 3 oldest children decked out in Bronco clothing. My son is singing, "La, la, la, love the Broncos, we are the 3 Amigos..." (Okay, probably nobody will get that one unless they were around for the SuperBowl something like 17 years ago.) My 5 year old at the time reads a story, complete with hand-drawn pictures, of the Broncos going to the SuperBowl.

I take advantage of every occasion to have fun, create a festive atmosphere. One tradition relates to the Broncos. Anytime they get this far in the Play-Off games, out comes the Blue and Orange nail color. I've been waiting all week for my nail decals to arrive that I bought off of ebay. So this afternoon, I got busy. (I still have 3 more sets of nails to paint before the game starts. I don't mind doing them at the last minute, I just hope the Broncos win so we can wear them until the SuperBowl. We are fickle fans. If they lose, there will be some quick removal of our blue and orange.

Sad

I want to cry. I have been cooking and creating recipes for a number of years. I've been storing these in an email file. This year I decided to create a cookbook, that way, when each of my kids moves out I can give them a copy of some of their favorite foods, meals, and dishes. I also have a collection of recipes handed down from my mom and mother-in-law.

So why do I want to cry? I finally have my computer back to normal function. The bad news...I lost everything in my email account. Yes, dumb, I know. I had some picture files there and music too. Those losses I will live with. (And hopefully , I can somehow get all my email addresses and internet favorites back little-by-little.) Little things like the daily blogs I liked to visit. (I did find the few who have commented on mine-thank-you!)

I am just not sure what I'm going to do this next week when I am planning meals. Or when Michael or one of the kids request a favorite meal that was recently created. I must be off to bed before I let it get to me.

End of the Spear

What an emotional movie this was! Thankfully, it ended on a very positive/laughable note. I need that at the end of a movie that has caused me to cry. (I don't cry very easily.)

It wasn't at all what I expected. Truthfully, I didn't go with any great expectations-except that I was a little miffed when I went. I had purchased 5 tickets at $8 each. We rarely go to the movies. Once a year, usually around the holidays, we try to go as a family (all 8 of us.) But it was still a big deal to purchase 5 tickets.

My youngest 2 have a lot of homework at night, so a week ago Thursday, the worked diligently to have it all finished by dinner. (Even Sarabeth, who works stage crew until 5, and didn't get home until 5:30 tried to work ahead so she could attend the movie.) El had to work that night, which I didn't know. My girls invited friends to go, but nobody else was allowed to go to a movie on a school night. Then Michael bailed on me. He was too tired to go out. Ugh! So the three of us jumped in the car and off we went.

The theater parking lot was strangely quiet. I didn't think we were very early. Once inside I pulled out our tickets. I couldn't believe it. We were there a week early. The movie wasn't until the following week. I started laughing and told the girls. I felt a little guilty for giving my husband such a hard time and was ever so thankful I hadn't convinced him to come.

The girls said they'd worked so hard to be able to go, they didn't want to go home. So we went to the mall, visited with El, and laughed a lot about getting the wrong date.

Last Thursday we were having our first big snow. The driving was treacherous, and I was tempted to just not go to the movie-in spite of the $40 I'd spent. Once again the girls were diligent, so we went. And once again, it was only the 3 of us. But this time, I wasn't angry.

The movie was excellent. It was more about the tribes people than the missionaries. It is rated PG13 for violence. The message was simple and poignant. The men were killed because the people they went to help didn't understand why they were there. But ultimately, it was their sacrifice that brought true freedom and change for these people. The movie did not preach. This was not a movie like one of Billy Graham's that the Gospel is preached and lives are changed. But the simple message of the gospel was. I laughed when my daughter asked, "why didn't dad go? They didn't even say God or Jesus once in the movie." She thought he would have enjoyed it as much as we did. Maybe when it comes out in video.

5 Weird Things About Me

I was tagged by Paula at Full Of Life This has been a difficult one for me to resond to. Do I really want to reveal weird things about myself? What will others think, that I'm weird? Oh well, here goes:

Five weird habits of yourself:

“The first player of this game starts with the topic ‘five weird habits of yourself,’ and people who get tagged need to write an entry about their five weird habits as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose the next five people to be tagged and link to their web journals. Don’t forget to leave a comment in their blog or journal that says ‘You are tagged’ (assuming they take comments) and tell them to read yours.”


1. I have always wanted a housefull of children. I still think we need about a dozen to feel full.

2. I sometimes get hung up on meaningless things. Once I wondered if I put my deodorant on the same way every day. Was it always the left underarm first? So just for fun, every day that week I switched off. I'd leave the container facing the direction of which I left off on. (You see, I obviously have too much time...not enough kids yet.)

3. I shower, fix my hair, and wear makeup to work out. I can't imagine not doing this ever.

4. I don't sit in the same spot at church every week. When taking classes with open seating, I like to sit in a different seat every time. It drives others crazy. They walk in and look at you as if to say, "what are you doing in my seat? Get out!"
But I like variety.

5. I bought a "puppy love" stuffed dog from the post office one day. I thought it would make a nice gift for one of the kids sometime when he or she was having an off day. (Or a fun locker suprise.) But then I kept him for myself as my driving companion. He sits up front with me and goes everywhere with me. I've even been known to stuff him in my purse and take him shopping with me. (Must be a leftover memory/feeling from when I was growing up. I kept a water balloon with a face drawn on it for nearly a year-as sort of a pet/friend.)

LOL, one of these days I will post about my hair obsession, but I'm not going to include it here.

So now that you all know how weird I really am, I'm going to go out on a limb here and tag Jenni , Tina Moriah , Heidi , and Shel(. So ladies, when you have a day and can't think of anything to blog, please share your weird habits so I don't feel alone in the weird category.

End Of The Spear

Am going to see "End Of The Spear" tonight. Hope it is good. It is based on the true story "Jim Elliot," a missionary and "the rest of the story." I will update and let you all know what I think.

What I'm Currently Reading

At the moment I'm reading a book entitled, "Experiencing Spiritual Breakthroughs" by Bruce Wilkinson. I bought it some time ago, but am just getting around to reading it. I find a lot of spiritual books tend to be written more for women, as I think in general they are the ones most likely to read them. But I have found this one seems to relate more to men. So far, it seems to be one of those life-transforming books. I've decided to give you a taste, by copying a bit from the first chapter:

“Guys,” I said, as I squinted up into the sun, “what were we thinking?”
Above us loomed a hundred and fifty feet of sheer rock. Our objective was simple-get the three of us from down here to up there. A rope snaked down the cliff face to coil menacingly at our feet.

It didn’t help that several teammates had already succeeded at this training phase and were now throwing down encouragements from on high. Or that my partner Al was busy breaking our crisis into bite sizes.

“One hundred and fifty feet is about fifteen stories, I figure,” he said. “Maybe six seconds of free-fall time. Hit the ground right here with about as much forces as, oh, maybe…”

“Al,” I broke in, “why don’t you hand the rope to Jeff.” Fortunately for my quaking knees, Jeff had been tagged to go up next.

I helped him get clipped into the safety harness. The whole point of this trial-by-rock was to face down our fears. By learning to trust not only our equipment but also the other men on our team, we would break through to a higher level of personal confidence and team spirit.

“The man on the top is working with you every step of the way,” our climbing coach had said. “The gear is top-rated. You’ll do fine, especially if you don’t look down.”

When Jeff was securely in his harness, he yelled up, “I’m ready! Who’s holding my line? My life is in your hands!”

“Vince!” Came the reply from far above.

Suddenly Jeff froze, then stepped back and unclipped his harness. Clearly, he wasn’t going up. He started waving his hands and shaking his head to the team above. “I’m not taking one step up this rock with that guy holding my rope!” He shouted. “Get me somebody else!”

In the shocked silence that followed, a feeling even more sickening than the fear of heights hit my stomach. It was imagining the utter embarrassment of Vince, the man on top, rejected as an untrustworthy climbing partner. It was the shattering awareness that all the camaraderie we’d been building piece by piece for days was about to fall apart.

The three of us looked up. The crew above peered down. And none of us knew what to do next.

Until Al stepped up. I heard a click. Al was buckling himself into the dangling harness. In a moment he was leaning into the rope.

“Vince!” he yelled.
“Yeah?”
“You ready?”
“I’m ready!” came back the reply.
“Here I come!” yelled Al. And he started up the face of the wall.

When Al was only about, oh, maybe one second of free-fall time up that cliff; I had my second breakthrough moment. My knees were still jelly, but at least I was breathing again. “You’re going to be okay, said that little voice. You’re going to climb that cliff just fine…all the way to the top.

And by the end of the day, that’s exactly what I had done.

The Other Surprise

The night before Christopher went back to college, we were both sitting in front of the computer. (He was at his dad's, I was at mine-in the same room.) He said,

"Ma, I told you and dad you could borrow my car while you were in town. Why did dad rent one?"

Michael's email was open and Christopher noticed a Hertz email. Before I could answer, he let out a yelp.

"What the???? A Ford Mustang convertible???? Oh my gosh! I can't believe this!"

Now I was curious. I told him I had no idea what he was talking about, but my mind raced. Granted I have secretly always wanted to drive a convertible, but it is one of those things I have never said outloud to him. Plus, once you pass the 4-5 kid mark, those thoughts are covered over with "the bigger, the better" ideas.

The other thought that came to me was I could not remember a time that Michael tried to surprise me in any fashion even close to this. Anyone who knows him, number one would say he is NEVER frivolous with money, and secondly is so very practical (not to mention very, um, cheap? Ok, frugal.) This was so out-of-character for him. But lately I never know what to expect. It has been an exciting time in our lives.

Christopher made me promise not to say anything and to act surprised. But the rest of the night, whenever he catch my eyes, he'd go into this routine. He'd hold his hands out on an imaginary steering wheel, toss his head as if his hair was blowing in the wind while driving with the top down. We'd laugh and laugh. I think everyone thought we were nuts.

Thankfully, Michael mentioned it the day before we left. I wouldn't have to put on an act of surprise. But I felt like a little kid in a candy store. At unexpected times, I'd break out in a big grin or laugh. After being married 22 years, were we learning to have fun again?

Here is the one time Michael drove the car all weekend-when we left the airport.



The rest of the time I was the driver. The weather was gorgeous. I think I only left the top up once. I didn't care what I looked like once I got to my destination. I would just mention the car, and they'd understand. We'd left the kids at home and we were out acting like we didn't have a care in the world. We all need a weekend like this.

The Christmas Gift

During the Christmas break our house was full again. (Well, maybe full is not a good term to use. I would never want to give the impression that others were not welcome because we could not fit anymore into our home.) Christopher was home from college for nearly 3 weeks, Christina and Ethan were here, and the girls were home from school. It is wonderful to not have a schedule and to just sit and visit. Michael remarked how great it was to have everyone here. That is when the idea came for the Christmas gift. I told him I am sure his parents felt the same way every time he came into town to visit.

He knew we'd found the perfect gift. Very quickly, he got on the internet and made plans for he and I to fly there for a surprise visit. On Christmas he called them and told them their gift would be late, that it would arrive sometime in January. On Friday the 13th, we knocked at their door. The gift had arrived.

I have to admit, the gift felt a bit selfish. Afterall, Michael and I not only had a mini-vacation, but the added blessing of seeing his parents/family, and mine as well. (I like to think of it as the gift that keeps on giving.) To me, there is no greater joy than sharing our lives and spending time with family and others.

I've mentioned the "Memory Jar" in my "Surprises" post. We saw it in person. It it a beautiful Tea Jar that sits on their coffee table. (The Tea Jar is from the memory everyone has of my Father-in-law making sun tea nearly every day in the hot Arizona summers. It usually sat on the diving board by the pool, which had to be moved when the kids wanted to swim. Dad made sure we never ran out of ice cold, refreshing tea. Before the jar in the 'fridge was empty, there'd be another one brewing in the hot sun.) The Memory Jar is stuffed with folded pieces of paper, filled with a lifetime of memories. I realized when we were there, that Mom and Dad are hoping the jar never runs empty. It shouldn't. As time goes on, when memories come to mind or new ones are made, we will compose them on little folded pieces of paper. Just as dad never let the tea run out, we will not let the memories run out.


Michael with his mom and dad





This is my newest little niece. She is 6 weeks old.

Oh Well

I may not be around for a few days. My computer is still completely hijacked. I miss my online friends. I can occasionally read message boards and can type offline and sometimes upload here. But for most everything else it has become nearly impossible. I am typing away and have to stop to shut-down the 10 or so pop-up boxes that have intruded into my space. This is so much worse than junk mail. Junk mail I can toss in the trash in one fell sweep without having to pay much attention, but this is truly aggravating, intrusive, and steals way too much of my time. And realistically, who in their right mind who go to a link on a pop-up advertising? Why would I give business to a company who would allow their advertising to come in through a virus/hacking on one's computer? Sheesh!

On a positive, Michael will hopefully get this fixed sometime next week. (Says it will take the better part of a day.) By then, my in-laws will hopefully have received their Christmas package and I can at least share some happy news on that front.

Early Morning

Twice this week instead of riding the bus, one kid has been running late and I've had to make the 45 minute roundtrip drive to school. Honestly, I don't mind the drive, and don't mind too much that it is at 7 instead of 6:40a.m. But the price of gas for my gas-guzzling SUV is expensive. I already have to make this drive every evening at 5 to pick up a child who stays late for extra-curricular activities.

Oh well, the view can be pretty spectacular. This pic didn't turn out so well as I took it while pulling out of the school parking lot, but it gives you an idea.

Surprises

Have you ever sat on a surprise, waiting...anticipation...excitement...the feeling that you are about to burst, or at least tell the secret? That is where I'm at, so I'm going to share about the secret, but not exactly.

For Christmas, we purchased sort of an unusual Christmas gift for my inlaws. It was an online order, and they haven't received it as of yet. It should arrive sometime this week. They know their gift is coming, and I sure hope the anticipation won't leave them disappointed. Every day I wonder, think about the coming gift and hope the surprise of it will be worth the wait. I am dying to tell all of you what that gift is, but it will have to wait until the intended recipients actually get it-just in case they might read this entry. But I can hardly stand the suspense.

Oh, and you want to hear about another really cool gift? My sister-in-law thought of this. She asked each of the grandkids to write out 10 memories of their grandparents. Each of the inlaw children (that's me) to write out 10 memories, and then each of the children to write out 30-40 memories. (Obviously, they will have more memories than anyone else.) All of these were then placed in a jar so that every day one memory could be read for the entire year. It started January 1st. My dear father-in-law has been typing them out in an email every day to share with the rest of us. It has been lots of fun.

And one of these days very soon, we'll get an email or a phone call that mentions the Christmas present. Then I can share the secret with all of you!

Normal

Let's take a poll, seriously, how many of us waste huge amounts of time because of this computer box sitting in front of us??? Mine, of late, is much worse. I still don't have the problems fixed yet. Having your computer hijacked by a virus is like being sick. You find yourself irritated because you can't do things at normal speed. You waste your precious time trying to fix whatever is ailing you, when all you really want to do is "be normal."

Ahhh...normalcy. Should that word even be in our vocabulary? Too often we place the normal category on life being predictable, going along as we have planned. What foolishness is this? Life is never the same. Life=change. From the moment we are born life is changing, so why are we thrown for a loop when the unexpected happens? What we should be doing is expecting the unexpected, plan on life not going as planned. If we happen to be in a red southbound car and all of the sudden we find ourselves in a silver rocket headed for the moon we need to learn to embrace the new journey. Because if not, about the time you have quit complaining and wishing to be back in the red, southbound car, you'll find yourself plummeting from the sky ready to crash land. Then you are wishing you would have enjoyed the blast off and the trip upward. But you missed it because you were so busy being irritated.

Okay, enough about my computer woes. I've got to deal with it and somehow move on. I need to enjoy the life OUTSIDE of my computer life and remember the joys of a handwritten journal among other things.

Signing off now.....

Simple Girl

For a long time, I've thought of myself as a simple girl. I've never been a flashy, glitzy person. When I married, 22 short years ago, I wed with a simple gold wedding band. Seemed very appropriate. Sometime when I was pregnant with my 5th child, it disappeared. I replaced it with something very inexpensive, just so I "looked" married again. (I suppose having 5 kids in tow was an indication that I was possibly married, lol.)

After our 15th anniversary, I asked Michael for a new wedding ring for my birthday. That was all I wanted. Together we picked out a beautiful anniversary band with 7 diamonds around it. I tried on a few "big" rings, but having always worn a band, I didn't think I could get used to what felt like a big, clunky ring.

I can't remember whose idea it was now, but a few years ago on Mother's Day, Michael and I picked out a Mother's ring. It had a birthstone for each of my children. (I decided it is nice having one in April-diamond, and July-ruby.) Those were my favorite stones, and after a short period I took the ring back and had the other stones replaced with diamonds. So a ruby for my son, and 4 diamonds for each of the girls. It took a bit getting used to a ring with stones protruding out the top. But it is precious to me and somehow I became accustomed to it.

Here we are, at 22 years and Michael wanted to upgrade my wedding ring again. (Who would have guessed?) Before Christmas we went together and picked out another anniversary band with bigger, more sparkling and more diamonds. Again I tried on several bulky rings but wasn't sure. So I went with the familiar: an easy-to-wear band. I think I was disappointed, though, when nobody noticed.

Back to the jewelry store we went. I found a ring for the same price as the band and exchanged them. Arriving home, my daughter noticed right away. Deep down, I think I was thrilled.

Have I been a simple girl out of necessity all these years? Is there really a flashy, glitzy "look-at-me" person trying to break forth? Honestly? I don't think so. But I am at a place in my life where I can enjoy impractical things. I can paint my nails and wear high-heeled boots. And every time I glimpse these sparkles from my hand, I think of the man who loves me and all we've been through. I catch myself caught up in the way this ring glistens. And I imagine this is the way life is supposed to be. As we get older, rather than being haggard and worn, our lives should glisten and gleam from the inside out revealing God's handiwork.

Pop-up Ads

One of my children has done it again. I have a bug in my system and now Michael is going to have to remove everything and reinstall. This happened once before and he was pretty convinced it came from AIM. I don't use AIM a lot, mostly to chat with family members (including my kids.)

After the first time this happened, I didn't download AIM. I only used Express from their website. After nearly a year, one of my kids (who lives out of state) convinced me that I really should just download. So I did. It works fine when "I" use it, but I'm not the only one who uses my computer. All family members at one time or another have gotten this bug (or one like it.) All but Michael. Guess who is the only one who doesn't use AIM ever???

Then one of my children admitted to chatting on AIM with a school friend when the friend sent a message/link with pics. She said when she clicked on it, the computer went ballistic. It in turn, also sent the same message to everyone on her buddy list. I thought I had been pretty clear about not opening links in emails or AIM, but their interpretation was that it was ok if it was from someone they knew.

What really infuriates me is any business that would advertise and use a service that would infiltrate a computer unknowingly in this manner. Oh, and the other thing it does is highlight words throughout both email or any web page you go to. For example, I was reading a blog yesterday and the person had a couple of words highlighted to links she had put on there. But then I noticed there were some highlighted and I could tell they were part of this virus/advertising scam. Most of the pop-ups are for ridiculous things, but occasionally I've noticed them from companies that I thought would be more reputable. Apparently not.

Well, this rambling was merely a warning to those who use AIM. Also to say, that until this is fixed, not sure how much I will post. It takes at least twice as long to do anything on here now. Michael said he'd probably get to this problem within the week.

Down in the Laundry Room

Roller coasters

I have to admit it, I love roller coasters. It is interesting to watch others ride too. Some scream in terror, others shriek with delight. To mask their fear, some will laugh themselves silly through the entire ride. Some feign boredom, wearing a tough face, while some just can't get enough thrill and continually search for bigger, better, scarier. I am amused.

Of course there are many who won't go near a roller coaster. My grandmother was not one of those. She lived just a few miles from both Disneyland and Knotts Berry Farm and about an hour away from Six Flags Magic Mountain. I loved visiting her as a child, as it almost always meant visiting one of the afore mentioned. Grandma never passed on an opportunity to ride a rollercoaster.

As we'd approach the front of a line at an amusement park, I'd watch Grandma looking ever so frail. I'd read the warnings, regarding those with heart problems and the like to NOT ride. Grandma usually met at least 2 of the criteria for not riding.

"Grandma, are you sure you ought to go on this one?" I'd ask. Her answer was always the same.

"You know, if my heart gives out, at least I was having fun when it did." Of course this answer did nothing to quench my fear that she might not get off of it alive. I suppose if I hadn't wanted to ride so much, I might have tried harder to convince her not to get on, but I didn't want to miss out either.

What is the appeal of these crazy contraptions? Who came up with the insane idea to go as fast as humanly possible, while connected in some way to a metal cart, clacking along a track that throws you contortionately sideways, upside down or backwards? I think I know the answer. No, not who thought these things up, but why they appeal to some of us.

Ponder this a moment. Once you are strapped tightly into a car, the car begins to move, what goes through your mind? Most likely you don't think too far into the future. You are anticipating what might happen next. Your heart begins to beat a bit faster. A rush of excitement comes swooshing up. But you are not thinking about what you will be doing next week, what you are going to make for dinner that night or anything else that might require deep thinking or planning. You might, for just a second, wish you hadn't eaten a chili dog for lunch 15 minutes earlier because you know it won't taste as good coming up as it did going down. Seriously, all you can do is be in that moment of time. There are no worries or regrets. No hurt feelings from the past. You cannot possibly have any depth to your thoughts. (I keep correcting myself. Okay, you might think that your entire life flashing before your eyes is deep thinking, but it doesn't really count.)

There is no thought about what lies before you. On a somewhat smooth area, you might take a second to peer ahead in anticipation if something bigger is coming next, or glance to the side looking for a plummeting drop. But you won't be taking in the sites. No details to distract you, you are hanging on for the ride at a ridiculously fast pace, knowing it will all be over shortly. You are living for the moment, possibly barely hanging on-begging for it to end quickly. This short-lived, exhillarating, fast-moving ride brings laughter, tears, excitement, thrills...a whole bundle of emotions without ever having to really think about anything.

It would be interesting to take a poll to find out if those who love roller coasters also tend to live their lives in this same fast pace. Never stopping to plan or evaluate whether what is going on is good or bad, never wanting to have to look too far into the future as to what might lie ahead that they would need to prepare for. Instead the fast pace is necessary to keep from having to think or experience life. Lives filled with busyness, in order to avoid ever feeling pain, hurt, or even love. This fast pace is like a drug. It is addicting. As soon as you are off the roller coaster, you run off to find the next one, bigger, better, and more thrilling than the last. And for a few brief moments, you won't have to deal with the real things of life. Many keep this dizzying pace up all their lives. Because of times of intense emotion and pleasure they believe they are living life to the fullest, when in actuality, they are avoiding life.

For me, an occasional escape on that coaster once every few years suits me just fine. I love the thrill, but I have to stop and catch my breath. I have to take time to breathe in the odors around me, so that I can detect dangerous smoke or enjoy a fragrant blossom.

Happy Anniversary!

Today, December 29th, Michael and I are celebrating out 22nd anniversary. Sometimes our relationship seems so fresh, it is as if we are still honeymooning. At the same time, I can't remember life without him. I feel like we've finally reached the point in our relationship, that it only gets better with each day. And yes, there are still things I am learning about him, and new things to love about him. So in honor of this special occasion, here are 22 things I appreciate about Michael:

1. His smile, whether he is smiling at one of the kids, grandson, or me. He has a smile that melts my heart.

2. His sense of humor. It pops up unexpectedly at times, and makes me laugh silly. Usually when I am way too serious.

3. His way with finances. How else can you explain how we've managed all these years? When he didn't have a "job" for 2 years, we did great.

4. Along with finances, he is hard-working and creative.

5. Michael is not afraid to take risks.

6. He challenges me. Sometimes it doesn't seem so endearing at the moment, but I am a better person for it. The first few years of marriage I was not thankful for this quality, but I am now. And yes, he still finds ways to get me to step out of my comfort zone.

7. I love the way he tells me that I'm the best thing that ever happened to him.

8. I love his sense of adventure. (I can't wait to see where it takes us when the kids are grown.)

9. He has learned to validate my feelings and listen, not just try to fix everything for me.

10. I love to see the pride in his eyes when he takes Ethan riding on the lawn mower.

11. I love that he is always up for trying new dishes and never criticizes my cooking. He'll try anything once, and if something is really distateful, he will comment, "It wouldn't hurt my feelings if you didn't want to make this one again."

12. Even though he says anything I cook is better than going out to eat, he still takes me out or orders out so I get a break from cooking.

13. He will go get my car washed and vacuumed, just because he loves me.

14. He never leaves his dirty clothes around. He always picks up after himself.

15. When I need an errand run, or chore done, he does it immediately. I never have to ask twice.

16. He's not afraid to admit he was wrong.

17. He is courageous and won't hesitate to stop and ask for directions or for help.

18. He takes care of all of the things I dislike doing, like making phone calls, fixing things, etc.

20. I can't believe he tolerates the way I toss and turn in bed to get comfortable, but never once has he complained.

21. I'm so thankful that he is neat and tidy, but doesn't give me a hard time for not being so organized.

22. I so appreciate that he cares so deeply for me and our children and grandson. His love shines through in all he does. He is my hero.

Paper Anyone?

I'm curious how long I am going to have to use wadded up, shredded toilet paper out of a basket beside the toilet. And what is it about toilet paper that makes a child grab one end of it and run? This particular child, also likes to mummy wrap himself after he has pulled out a sufficient amount. That usually mean it starts at the roll on the wall, runs out the bathroom door, down the hall, into the kitchen with just enough room to twirl. Maybe I need tissue that is not so strong.

I know, many would just throw away these ridiculous amounts of paper wads. But, with 5 females in the house, why would I let perfectly good paper go to waste? The rolls of paper disappear fast enough. It seems I barely get a new roll on and it is time to replace it. So why does this mound in the basket seem to last forever?

I have my suspicions. I think I may be the only one who uses it. I think the other members of this household can't stand the thought of using toilet paper that has been dragged down the hallway or wrapped around a little person's body. I guess when you're a mom, all ideas of sanitary (or is it sanity) go out the window.

UNEXPECTED

Two days ago, I ran into Barnes & Noble for a last minute gift. I was sending out a Christmas package to my parents and it needed to go out that day in order to make it in time for Christmas. But I can never go into the bookstore without stopping in the children's section, or browsing through the clearance books.

I picked up a copy of Billy Crystal's "I Already Know I Love You." I read a page or two, then flipped a few more pages. Without warning, my eyes began to fill with tears. I blinked to hold them back and felt a stinging sensation. The author described the anticipation of waiting for his grandbaby, how he was looking forward to playing peek-a-boo, taking him to his first ballgame. I turned to the last page.

"I'm going to be your grandpa, and I can hardly wait."



I was not prepared for the intense emotion that welled up from within. I turned the book over. The sticker read $16.95. I can't pay that much for a book right now. But I tucked it under my arm and walked to the counter to pay.

I busied myself with watching the people waiting in line. I chuckled to myself when I saw that there was an employee at the front of the line holding a basket. She was offering chocolate candy for all who'd been standing, waiting to pay for their books. (They apparently agree with me, that chocolate should be used as a stress reliever.) As I passed, I accepted her bit of chocolate.

The day was a bit chilly, so I hurried to the car. All the way I was mentally trying to figure out what else I needed to do after going to the post office. I was a bit undone that I always and consistently leave things to the last minute. But while I was pulling out of the parking lot, tears unexpectedly began blurring my vision. I swiped at my eyes with my leather glove. Not very absorbent.

What is wrong with me? I wondered. I do not cry easily. I've never been an overly emotional person. But here I was, still crying on the way home after picking up a children's book. I normally analyze things like this. I like to know what exactly triggers such a strong emotion. When I am very busy, or under stress, I can't say that I am always in tune with feelings. I like to stuff them until a time arises that I can figure out what and why I am feeling. Then I can deal with it and move on. Right then, I didn't have time.

I pulled off my gloves, grabbed a tissue, and dried my eyes again. I tried to focus on all of the things I needed to do, but I couldn't distract myself. And what was I going to do with this book anyway? I was going to give it to my husband to give to our grandson for Christmas. The image of the two of them on Michael's riding lawn mower settled into my thoughts. I cried harder.



When our daughter announced her pregnancy, it wasn't at the best of times. She had made a stand of purity and chosen not to even date through high school. Here she was, at 20, unmarried, telling us the news.

She had friends who told her it wouldn't be convenient to have a child and that she didn't have to. But like I, she values life. We were going to be grandparents.

When I arrived home, I picked up my bag of books and went inside. I tried to put the book aside, while I packed up the box I needed to ship. But I couldn't operate with tears under the surface, still stinging my eyes. So I got the book to present to Michael. I went to him, but found I couldn't speak. I just stood there, holding this book. I opened my mouth, but the only thing that came out was tears. I waited. This was too hard. I finally blurted out, "I got this book for you to give to Ethan for Christmas. I know it was dumb, but I did." I then retreated to my room to finish the package.

Why am I such a wreck? Because I remember when my daughter was pregnant. I remembered that although we hadn't anticpated being grandparents yet, I often imagined spending time with this new little one. I imagined things like baking cookies together, laughing. I bought lots of books to read to him. I thought of the times I'd answer his questions about why, and tell him about God who created him. But I never imagined that Ethan might not understand these things, nor that there would be so many unknowns. I didn't think that at age 3 I'd still be waiting to hear him say, "gramma."

Michael came in the room. He wrapped his arms around me and I cried into his shoulder. I told him I didn't know what I was thinking when I picked up the book and that I would take it back to the store. He said no. We sat in silence. Once again I dried my tears. "Do you think I should just give it to him, or what?" He asked. "Aren't you afraid he will ruin the book?" I told him it would be ok. He could sit and read the book to Ethan. It didn't matter if Ethan didn't understand a word of it. The words were still true. We DID wait with much anticipation for his arrival. We did and still do look forward to spending time with him, teaching him new things, sharing and experiencing moments together. It is just different than what we'd imagined.

All About Nothing

A bit of time has passed since I've written a thing. The problem? Well, the more days that go by, the more difficult it is to write. I figure people are out there waiting for something terribly insightful, motivating, thoughtful, inspiring...and the more time that passes, the more pressure I feel to perform. The complete irony of the situation? I doubt anyone reads my blog at all, lol. So why do I feel any kind of pressure? Afterall, this is my own little world. I can say or write just about anything that comes to mind. Even if it is all about nothing.