I've noticed recent celebrations of Blog Anniversaries on several blogs. So I wondered to myself how long I've been at this. I checked and was pleasantly surprised. Apparently, today is my 1st Blogging Anniversary. Happy Anniversary to me.
I have kept journals for years. This isn't really a journal, but it is similar. I enjoy going back and re-reading journals to see what life was about at that particular juncture in life, what I was feeling/thinking, and to see if I've grown since then. It is also interesting to be reminded of things that would have been forgotten.
My very first post was regarding my 1st attempt at the Zone Diet. I failed miserably. I would not have guessed that both Michael and I would start it together 9 months later and be successful. (I have lost 25 lbs since that first post.)
I noticed my second post included pictures of a trip to the mountains. I did not remember that Sarabeth had requested that trip for her birthday as well as the one taken last weekend. And although I mentioned that we love going to the moutains for cookouts, I realized that was probably the last time we'd gone.
It just goes to show that our memories are not always accurate of the way things really are. Many will say this and a few will admit this, but what about our perspective? Most of us think our own perspective is the right one. Even as I re-read about struggles in my journal, I'm merely reading my own perspective on life. I'd much rather peer into it with God's eyes to see how He sees it. That would give me a much more truthful interpretation of how I am doing.
And writing this post, I learned that even writing things down doesn't necessarily prove accurate. As I went back to find the links to my first posts, I realized I was wrong. I went back to June and viewed the top post, but the first post was at the bottom of the page. So today isn't my anniversary at all. It was June 25th-Sarabeth's birthday. (Sarabeth, we share a special day!) And those were not my 1st two posts. Oh well, it is still good to look back.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Happy 17th Birthday Sarabeth!
Sarabeth is my 4th child. When she was little I received more unwanted advice from well-intentioned people than with any of my other children. It is a good thing I was not insecure about my parenting. Each child is different and the Lord is always there to guide and help me meet the needs of each individual.
In general, I parent my children the same. How hard is it with a baby? I love them and meet their needs through my sleep-deprived, bleary-eyed body with a mother's heart. I spend hours praying for wisdom and guidance as to what will help my child become all that He intends them to be. It seemed rather simple with the 1st 3.
But Sarabeth was different. She became affectionately known as the Velcro Baby. Nobody but I could hold her, not even her daddy. I could hardly run to the bathroom without her having a meltdown. On a rare occasion when she was napping I would plead with her father to let me run to the grocery store without taking her along. You see, she was such a cutie people were always stopping to talk to her as I'd push her in the grocery cart. Her immediate response to uninvited attention was shrieks. The strangers would then try to soothe her by touching her and talking to her further. At this point she would be clutching at my shirt as if her very life depended on it. It was sheer terror. Once-in-awhile her father would give in to my pleading as long as I promised to be back in record time. It didn't matter how long I was gone. I always returned to a red-faced man pushing a matching red-faced, teary-eyed baby at me as I walked through the door.
"You just need to leave her more often."
"How long can she cry?"
"Leave her with me and she'll get over this pretty quick."
I've never met so many baby experts in all my life. The advice continued well into toddlerhood and elementary school. I learned to just smile at the so-called experts as they'd throw out their solutions to my clingy child, all the while thanking God for His grace not to say something nasty back. Friends and family began to shake their heads at me, believing my child would never be normal.
To everyone's surprise, Sarabeth began to blossom into a very independant, well-adjusted young lady. Her quick-witted sense of humor evokes laughter from everyone. In 6th grade she left for a week to Outdoor Lab. Unlike some of my other children, she didn't ask me to come along. There were no tears as she said good-bye. The years of building security into her by letting her know I was there for her had paid off. It hadn't been my job to force her to stand on her own and be strong. By keeping her close and strengthing our relationship she developed the courage to do more than anyone thought possible. And isn't this what our heavenly Father desires for us?
Next Saturday Sarabeth will leave once again. This time for a month-long nanny stint in another state. I am so proud of how she has grown up. Happy Birthday Sarabeth!
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Put It Back
She pushed her cart to the checkout and put her items up to be scanned. Her son was chattering away as he clutched a toy. It was obvious by his movements that something wasn't right. His speech was unintelligible. But he made happy sounds as he played with the toy.
"We have to pay for it now," the young mother told him. As she placed it on the counter, he began to grab for it and express his displeasure. "You can have it in just a minute." She kissed his forehead.
The clerk rang up the few items. The mother inserted her credit card into the machine.
"Do you have another card? This one has been denied." The clerk turned to the mother and boy.
"No, I don't." You could see the red in her cheeks as she blushed in humiliation. All the while, the boy was reaching for his new toy.
"I'm sorry, honey. We can't get it today." It was obvious that the boy did not comprehend what his mom was telling him. He did not understand why he couldn't have his toy back. His mother quickly swiped at her face with her hand to keep the tear from falling. She was a single mom and did not have any other money. "I'm sorry, let's go."
The boy began to cry and the mother couldn't soothe him. He just did not understand why the lady at the counter took his toy and he couldn't have it. His mom took him to the car.
Now, imagine that this was your child and your granchild.
"We have to pay for it now," the young mother told him. As she placed it on the counter, he began to grab for it and express his displeasure. "You can have it in just a minute." She kissed his forehead.
The clerk rang up the few items. The mother inserted her credit card into the machine.
"Do you have another card? This one has been denied." The clerk turned to the mother and boy.
"No, I don't." You could see the red in her cheeks as she blushed in humiliation. All the while, the boy was reaching for his new toy.
"I'm sorry, honey. We can't get it today." It was obvious that the boy did not comprehend what his mom was telling him. He did not understand why he couldn't have his toy back. His mother quickly swiped at her face with her hand to keep the tear from falling. She was a single mom and did not have any other money. "I'm sorry, let's go."
The boy began to cry and the mother couldn't soothe him. He just did not understand why the lady at the counter took his toy and he couldn't have it. His mom took him to the car.
Now, imagine that this was your child and your granchild.
Fun
We are NOT campers. In spite of this, one of our favorite things to do in the summer is having a cook-out in the mountains. Sarabeth's birthday is Sunday so she requested an early birthday dinner. And what do the girls do for fun?
Mountains
More pics from our cook-out:
Gosh, maybe we should actually try camping. This is Elisabeth and Hilary pretending to camp.
Gosh, maybe we should actually try camping. This is Elisabeth and Hilary pretending to camp.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Hearts
What's In Your Heart?
What's in your heart? I know the "right" answer is Jesus. I was thrilled each time my kids could truthfully give the right answer. But this phrase has taken on a new meaning.
When Michael returned from New Jersey, he said he had something for me. He presented me with a lovely little black box with this inside:
It is a "What's In Your Heart" pendant. You purchase it empty, then fill with charms of your choice (according to how much you want to spend.) This is probably one of the single most romantic things Michael has ever done. He added our initials to it, chose a heart with my birthstones, a ruby for my son and grandson, and a diamond for my girls. How sweet is that? I was totally suprised and amazed.
Naturally, my girls each wanted one, so I went online to find information. Apparently these are just becoming popular. What made them popular was an actress from Desperate Housewives who wore one on a talk show. I've never seen the show, nor do I care to. But I am ever so happy with what's in my heart-both the pendant and my own.
What's in your heart? I know the "right" answer is Jesus. I was thrilled each time my kids could truthfully give the right answer. But this phrase has taken on a new meaning.
When Michael returned from New Jersey, he said he had something for me. He presented me with a lovely little black box with this inside:
It is a "What's In Your Heart" pendant. You purchase it empty, then fill with charms of your choice (according to how much you want to spend.) This is probably one of the single most romantic things Michael has ever done. He added our initials to it, chose a heart with my birthstones, a ruby for my son and grandson, and a diamond for my girls. How sweet is that? I was totally suprised and amazed.
Naturally, my girls each wanted one, so I went online to find information. Apparently these are just becoming popular. What made them popular was an actress from Desperate Housewives who wore one on a talk show. I've never seen the show, nor do I care to. But I am ever so happy with what's in my heart-both the pendant and my own.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Happy Dad's Day
Dad, remember when you took me and Greg fishing while my sisters stayed at home? I felt so important being able to go along with the guys.
Remember when you used to sneak up the stairs to catch us fooling around when we were supposed to be sleeping? I always heard you when your foot stepped on the one creaking stair. I'd immediately pretend to be sleeping while Carolyn would chatter away. She'd usually get in trouble and I'd listen while she vehemently tried to tell you I was really awake. You always believed the best about me.
Remember when you showed me how to play your steel guitar? My love of music developed because of the years spent listening to the whine and twang of that guitar. Hearing you play brought a soothing sense of security to my life. Music still does that for me.
Remember the Fridays we'd climb into the car and head off into the dark night? We'd make that 7 hour long drive to visit Grandad in California. It was often just the two of us and we'd drive back home Sunday afternoon. When I got my learners permit, you'd let me drive-even when you would be nodding off in the seat beside me. I knew you trusted me, even though I wasn't that good of a driver yet. I learned the joy and accomplishment of taking responsibility seriously.
Remember the times Grandad would call to see if you were driving up for the weekend? A few times you had to say no. Grandad would say he was going to die and hang up on you. When you tried to phone him back, he wouldn't answer your calls. I learned by watching you what it meant to love, honor, and respect your parents. After these calls, you'd turn to me and ask if I wanted to make the trip when nobody else wanted to. I'd say yes, and even though you were dead tired, we'd go. When Grandad said no, he didn't want to sell his house, even though we all knew he would never go home to live, you honored his request. When Grandad stubbornly refused to come live with us, you respected his wishes. It would have made your life so much easier if you'd just sold his house and forced him to move, but you didn't. Neither you nor I were big conversationalists, so the two of us would often sit or stand silently by Grandad's bed for hours at a time. I knew how much you loved us both.
Remember when you and Mom went to Germany for 2 years? I was a young mom with 2 children. You and I would write long letters back and forth. I am so thankful for that time. Our relationship grew. You related to me adult-to-adult. I was no longer a kid. You allowed me to grow up.
There is so much more, Dad, but I will pause here and say thanks. Happy Father's Day!
Remember when you used to sneak up the stairs to catch us fooling around when we were supposed to be sleeping? I always heard you when your foot stepped on the one creaking stair. I'd immediately pretend to be sleeping while Carolyn would chatter away. She'd usually get in trouble and I'd listen while she vehemently tried to tell you I was really awake. You always believed the best about me.
Remember when you showed me how to play your steel guitar? My love of music developed because of the years spent listening to the whine and twang of that guitar. Hearing you play brought a soothing sense of security to my life. Music still does that for me.
Remember the Fridays we'd climb into the car and head off into the dark night? We'd make that 7 hour long drive to visit Grandad in California. It was often just the two of us and we'd drive back home Sunday afternoon. When I got my learners permit, you'd let me drive-even when you would be nodding off in the seat beside me. I knew you trusted me, even though I wasn't that good of a driver yet. I learned the joy and accomplishment of taking responsibility seriously.
Remember the times Grandad would call to see if you were driving up for the weekend? A few times you had to say no. Grandad would say he was going to die and hang up on you. When you tried to phone him back, he wouldn't answer your calls. I learned by watching you what it meant to love, honor, and respect your parents. After these calls, you'd turn to me and ask if I wanted to make the trip when nobody else wanted to. I'd say yes, and even though you were dead tired, we'd go. When Grandad said no, he didn't want to sell his house, even though we all knew he would never go home to live, you honored his request. When Grandad stubbornly refused to come live with us, you respected his wishes. It would have made your life so much easier if you'd just sold his house and forced him to move, but you didn't. Neither you nor I were big conversationalists, so the two of us would often sit or stand silently by Grandad's bed for hours at a time. I knew how much you loved us both.
Remember when you and Mom went to Germany for 2 years? I was a young mom with 2 children. You and I would write long letters back and forth. I am so thankful for that time. Our relationship grew. You related to me adult-to-adult. I was no longer a kid. You allowed me to grow up.
There is so much more, Dad, but I will pause here and say thanks. Happy Father's Day!
Seven Things I Say
A Meme
The Laundry Lady over at Under the Laundry Pile tagged me for this Meme. Since I've not been keeping up with my blog, I thought it'd be a good way to get going again. So here they are:
1. "Who wants to go to the store with me?...I'm taking "my" car."
2. "No, you can't go. I'm taking my car."
3. "Dear" (this has to be said dragged out, as in "deeeeeeear.") My kids told me once that I called their dad "dear." After vehemently denying it, I was caught red-handed later that same day. The reason I didn't think I said it was I suppose it isn't said very en'dear'ingly. I use dear when I am slightly irritated and yet trying to be nice. Otherwise, he is honey or sweetie-not dear.
4. "Dinner's ready."
5. "Who left the hair straightener on?"
6. "Did the mute button quit working?" Or "Can you turn that thing down?"
7. "I need a Starbucks."
I tag Supermom, Melanie, and Char.
The Laundry Lady over at Under the Laundry Pile tagged me for this Meme. Since I've not been keeping up with my blog, I thought it'd be a good way to get going again. So here they are:
1. "Who wants to go to the store with me?...I'm taking "my" car."
2. "No, you can't go. I'm taking my car."
3. "Dear" (this has to be said dragged out, as in "deeeeeeear.") My kids told me once that I called their dad "dear." After vehemently denying it, I was caught red-handed later that same day. The reason I didn't think I said it was I suppose it isn't said very en'dear'ingly. I use dear when I am slightly irritated and yet trying to be nice. Otherwise, he is honey or sweetie-not dear.
4. "Dinner's ready."
5. "Who left the hair straightener on?"
6. "Did the mute button quit working?" Or "Can you turn that thing down?"
7. "I need a Starbucks."
I tag Supermom, Melanie, and Char.
Monday, June 05, 2006
Happenings
My baby is going to Washington D.C. tomorrow for 5 days. Yes, I realize she turned 14 recently. But something begins taking place in a mother's heart as she starts seeing big milestones in her youngest child. Two years ago she was in 6th grade. At the end of field day as I was trudging along after a hot, sweaty day, I realized that this was my very last field day. Is that possible? I'd been attending field day every single May for the past 18 years. I thought about the times of juggling multiple kids doing field day at once, running back and forth trying to catch important events of each child. Most of the time I missed the photos of the win and only got ones of them holding up a brightly colored ribbon.
Ok, if I was honest, I was a bit gleeful at the thought of no more field days. But there was still a twinge in my heart that they were over. I know that instead of field day, bigger adventures were coming up. So now here is Hilary getting ready to fly across the country for an entire week. I don't get to go and cheer her on, or take her picture as she is enjoying the sites. I will be at home thinking about her, praying for her, and hoping she grows from this opportunity and has fun.
So I'm off to help her pack for her trip and make sure she has everything she needs. Here are a couple of pics of hubby's flying experience.
Ok, if I was honest, I was a bit gleeful at the thought of no more field days. But there was still a twinge in my heart that they were over. I know that instead of field day, bigger adventures were coming up. So now here is Hilary getting ready to fly across the country for an entire week. I don't get to go and cheer her on, or take her picture as she is enjoying the sites. I will be at home thinking about her, praying for her, and hoping she grows from this opportunity and has fun.
So I'm off to help her pack for her trip and make sure she has everything she needs. Here are a couple of pics of hubby's flying experience.
Friday, June 02, 2006
Summer
Today is the first day of summer break. I just returned from the airport. My dear Michael will be gone for 10 days while I keep things on the homefront. I feel like this is the beginning of a new life. (No, not the 10 days without him, silly.)
Michael is renewing his pilot's license. When we first met (I should write about that sometime,) I was working at a small airport coffee shop, he had a plane. He'd wanted to join the AirForce to be a pilot, but his vision prevented it. So he went to work at a computer firm and learned to fly on his own. We married and began having children. When I became pregnant with our 3rd, we took the kids on a long flight in his 4 seater plane. It was after this, that Michael decided it was time to put flying aside for awhile. We'd outgrown the 4 passenger plane and could no longer afford this expensive hobby.
During this same time period, it was my desire to go on the mission field. I had a hard time envisioning Michael and I ministering together. But the one thing I could imagine was a Michael as a bush pilot. Our church financially supported a bush pilot who lived in Alaska. I loved hearing his stories and treasured them in my heart, all the while continuing to pray that this would be our lives one day. But as our family continued to grow, it seemed we moved further and further away from this dream. After several years, I quit asking God to send us.
This past year Michael watched several documentaries about pilots on humanitarian missions. His interest was sparked. One day it hit me. The desire to be a missionary came flooding back. I remembered the years of praying. Could we be nearing a time that Michael and I could go out in ministry? God hears each one of our prayers and always answers. Maybe this prayer was like that of Abraham and Sarah who didn't see their prayers for a son until many years past not only the time they asked, but past what was even probable. Sometimes our dreams are laid aside and forgotten. But they can be resurrected in a moment. I don't know if this desire will ever come to pass, but I am so very encouraged and excited to be reminded that God never forgets.
Michael's motto in life is "Keep the Blue Side Up." So that is what I expect him to do for the next 10 days. Keep the blue side up Michael!
Michael is renewing his pilot's license. When we first met (I should write about that sometime,) I was working at a small airport coffee shop, he had a plane. He'd wanted to join the AirForce to be a pilot, but his vision prevented it. So he went to work at a computer firm and learned to fly on his own. We married and began having children. When I became pregnant with our 3rd, we took the kids on a long flight in his 4 seater plane. It was after this, that Michael decided it was time to put flying aside for awhile. We'd outgrown the 4 passenger plane and could no longer afford this expensive hobby.
During this same time period, it was my desire to go on the mission field. I had a hard time envisioning Michael and I ministering together. But the one thing I could imagine was a Michael as a bush pilot. Our church financially supported a bush pilot who lived in Alaska. I loved hearing his stories and treasured them in my heart, all the while continuing to pray that this would be our lives one day. But as our family continued to grow, it seemed we moved further and further away from this dream. After several years, I quit asking God to send us.
This past year Michael watched several documentaries about pilots on humanitarian missions. His interest was sparked. One day it hit me. The desire to be a missionary came flooding back. I remembered the years of praying. Could we be nearing a time that Michael and I could go out in ministry? God hears each one of our prayers and always answers. Maybe this prayer was like that of Abraham and Sarah who didn't see their prayers for a son until many years past not only the time they asked, but past what was even probable. Sometimes our dreams are laid aside and forgotten. But they can be resurrected in a moment. I don't know if this desire will ever come to pass, but I am so very encouraged and excited to be reminded that God never forgets.
Michael's motto in life is "Keep the Blue Side Up." So that is what I expect him to do for the next 10 days. Keep the blue side up Michael!
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Finally
Tomorrow is the last day that my sleep will be interrupted by beep, beep, beep, beep. (At least for awhile.) Friday is the official first day of summer vacation. Ahhh...to be able to sleep a bit longer, to not be so rudely awakened. I look forward to staying up late with the kids talking, playing Monopoly all night, or late night runs to Taco Bell or Starbucks. Relaxing dinners out on the deck where much laughter is heard and nobody rushes off to finish their homework. Instead we can take our evening walks around the neighborhood, breathing in the scents of lilac bushes, seeing the lush green of the grass and trees, hearing the gurgling water in the many streams, taking in the beauty of God's creation.
Summer, my most favorite season of all. As you can tell, I am not one of those crazy parents who signs their kids up for the many activities that some think are necessary. I've never believed it was a good thing to put my kids on a swim team. Why would we want to go to practice every morning and be at swim meets at 6 a.m. on Saturdays? Nor have we ever spent hours and hours at endless baseball games that run too late into the evenings. To some, these things are what they look forward to and what marks the beginning of summer. I look forward to lazy days. Didn't God design a dy of rest when he designed all of creation?
Alright. What was someone thinking when they wrote on my calendar, that Friday, my first day of leisure, "Pom Practice-7:00a.m.?" Ugh! That means not only will my sleep be broken by an incessant beeping, Hilary will need to be at the school a half hour earlier than on school mornings. And it is a 20 minute drive. I love summer.
Summer, my most favorite season of all. As you can tell, I am not one of those crazy parents who signs their kids up for the many activities that some think are necessary. I've never believed it was a good thing to put my kids on a swim team. Why would we want to go to practice every morning and be at swim meets at 6 a.m. on Saturdays? Nor have we ever spent hours and hours at endless baseball games that run too late into the evenings. To some, these things are what they look forward to and what marks the beginning of summer. I look forward to lazy days. Didn't God design a dy of rest when he designed all of creation?
Alright. What was someone thinking when they wrote on my calendar, that Friday, my first day of leisure, "Pom Practice-7:00a.m.?" Ugh! That means not only will my sleep be broken by an incessant beeping, Hilary will need to be at the school a half hour earlier than on school mornings. And it is a 20 minute drive. I love summer.
Monday, May 29, 2006
S is for...
Along with Owlhaven Mary, I'm playing an ABC game y'all may have seen floating around. She has assigned me the letter S.
Ten Significant Words Beginning With S.
1. S is for Savior. I was born-again back in 1984 and my life has been forever changed.
2. S is for Sunday, the best day of the week.
3. S is for Sweetheart. That would be Michael, the sweetest man in all the world. The one who puts up with my tossing and turning at night and all of my crazy ideas.
4. S is for Sarabeth, my number 4 child. Sarabeth will be seventeen next month. She has grown into a very sensitive, smart young lady with a great sense of humor. Sarabeth is also the most shy of all my kids.
5. S is for Son. Christopher is my sunshine on a gloomy day.
6. S is for Seven, the number in our family. It is through my husband and children that I have become who I am today.
7. S is for Socks. I can't sleep without socks on my feet. It doesn't matter how warm or cold it is, even in the middle of summer. I wear socks to bed.
8. S is for Seasons. I get bored if things are always the same, so I love the season, whether the seasons of the year or seasons of life. So far the season of life that I'm in at the time, is always my favorite. I hope I can always say that.
9. S is for Surprises. I love surprises. No, not the kind that awaken you in the middle of the night, or something wet you step in while wearing socks. I also so enjoy it when I can do something special for someone else as a surprise. Something meaningful to make one smile, something totally unexpected. (Pleasant surprises have to be gifts from God.)
10. S is for S2000. Yep! That is my sunny, yellow, Honda convertible that Michael gave me for my birthday this year. The best times are driving it in the warm sunshine with him. Fun in the Sun.
Want to play this game? Email me, and I'll assign you a letter! Then leave a comment so others can see your top ten.
Along with Owlhaven Mary, I'm playing an ABC game y'all may have seen floating around. She has assigned me the letter S.
Ten Significant Words Beginning With S.
1. S is for Savior. I was born-again back in 1984 and my life has been forever changed.
2. S is for Sunday, the best day of the week.
3. S is for Sweetheart. That would be Michael, the sweetest man in all the world. The one who puts up with my tossing and turning at night and all of my crazy ideas.
4. S is for Sarabeth, my number 4 child. Sarabeth will be seventeen next month. She has grown into a very sensitive, smart young lady with a great sense of humor. Sarabeth is also the most shy of all my kids.
5. S is for Son. Christopher is my sunshine on a gloomy day.
6. S is for Seven, the number in our family. It is through my husband and children that I have become who I am today.
7. S is for Socks. I can't sleep without socks on my feet. It doesn't matter how warm or cold it is, even in the middle of summer. I wear socks to bed.
8. S is for Seasons. I get bored if things are always the same, so I love the season, whether the seasons of the year or seasons of life. So far the season of life that I'm in at the time, is always my favorite. I hope I can always say that.
9. S is for Surprises. I love surprises. No, not the kind that awaken you in the middle of the night, or something wet you step in while wearing socks. I also so enjoy it when I can do something special for someone else as a surprise. Something meaningful to make one smile, something totally unexpected. (Pleasant surprises have to be gifts from God.)
10. S is for S2000. Yep! That is my sunny, yellow, Honda convertible that Michael gave me for my birthday this year. The best times are driving it in the warm sunshine with him. Fun in the Sun.
Want to play this game? Email me, and I'll assign you a letter! Then leave a comment so others can see your top ten.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Disrepect
I've been a little shocked lately at the disrespect that is so prevalant between parents and mostly teens. The part that concerns me the most is the disrespect I see from the parents. The parent then looks for a sympathetic ear when the teen doesn't do his chores or pay attention to anything the parent says.
Here are some recent examples that I've taken notice of: A mother (who shall remain annonymous) was chiding her daughter for not completing a chore.
"What is wrong with you? I told you to clean the kitchen. Do you think you are the only one in this house that is important? Don't ask me to take you to practice. If you won't do what I want you to do, I won't do what you want me to do."
This same mom turns to me and says, "My daughter doesn't show me any respect, so I'm going to make her life so miserable that she will learn to respect me."
Does this mom realize that she sounds like a 5 year old, throwing a temper tantrum because she didn't get her own way? The message she just spewed at her daughter is, "You are dumb. You are not important. I don't respect you because you don't respect me. (Reminds me of 2 little children playing. One gets mad and takes their toys home so the other can't play with them.)
By resorting to childish behavior, this mother has reinforced the same behavior in her daughter. So why does she think her daughter should be more mature, rise above the way she is being treated and show respect for the mother?
(Out of time, will have to finish this thought later.)
Here are some recent examples that I've taken notice of: A mother (who shall remain annonymous) was chiding her daughter for not completing a chore.
"What is wrong with you? I told you to clean the kitchen. Do you think you are the only one in this house that is important? Don't ask me to take you to practice. If you won't do what I want you to do, I won't do what you want me to do."
This same mom turns to me and says, "My daughter doesn't show me any respect, so I'm going to make her life so miserable that she will learn to respect me."
Does this mom realize that she sounds like a 5 year old, throwing a temper tantrum because she didn't get her own way? The message she just spewed at her daughter is, "You are dumb. You are not important. I don't respect you because you don't respect me. (Reminds me of 2 little children playing. One gets mad and takes their toys home so the other can't play with them.)
By resorting to childish behavior, this mother has reinforced the same behavior in her daughter. So why does she think her daughter should be more mature, rise above the way she is being treated and show respect for the mother?
(Out of time, will have to finish this thought later.)
Friday, May 26, 2006
May
Am I the only one whose brain quits functioning in May??? Even when I write things down I forget. Yesterday I couldn't remember what I had planned for dinner and couldn't locate my menu plan. So I improvised with a meal meant for later in the week. At the last minute I realized I did not have olives. That is a main ingredient. So I ran up to the store in an attempt to get them and 2 other things I'd forgotten.
I was trying very hard to not browse. I tend to do that and come home with much more than I wanted. It is usually things we need, but it was getting way to close to dinnertime to be browsing. I grabbed the items and went straight to the checkout. Driving home I was so proud of myself for not getting distracted. That is until I was about to pull onto our block and realized I did NOT pick up olives. I'd gotten the other 2 items that could have waited until today. Grrr....so instead of pulling onto our street I drove back to the store.
I was sure glad I'd remembered to bring my water bottle with me, as it was very hot yesterday. When I arrived home, I gathered my purse, sunglasses and water bottle and went inside. Sarabeth asked me where I'd been. At that point I started laughing. She looked at me odd. I knew the reason she didn't know where I was, I'd left the grocery sack sitting in the trunk. Amazingly, I did get the dinner made and it wasn't midnight when we ate.
I was trying very hard to not browse. I tend to do that and come home with much more than I wanted. It is usually things we need, but it was getting way to close to dinnertime to be browsing. I grabbed the items and went straight to the checkout. Driving home I was so proud of myself for not getting distracted. That is until I was about to pull onto our block and realized I did NOT pick up olives. I'd gotten the other 2 items that could have waited until today. Grrr....so instead of pulling onto our street I drove back to the store.
I was sure glad I'd remembered to bring my water bottle with me, as it was very hot yesterday. When I arrived home, I gathered my purse, sunglasses and water bottle and went inside. Sarabeth asked me where I'd been. At that point I started laughing. She looked at me odd. I knew the reason she didn't know where I was, I'd left the grocery sack sitting in the trunk. Amazingly, I did get the dinner made and it wasn't midnight when we ate.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Crazy Pics
Some crazy pics because my kids like to goof off.
Can you tell you who it is that like to goof off the most? Yes, somehow it is always the male species.
Can you tell you who it is that like to goof off the most? Yes, somehow it is always the male species.
Monday, May 22, 2006
More Pics
Is it possible to get just one decent pic when everyone happens to be in one place? I doubt it. This is about the best family one we could come up with:
The kids without Ethan:
And here is my attempt at getting them all in a shot in the car:
Oh, and one last one of Christina and Ethan:
Tomorrow I will post the goofy ones.
The kids without Ethan:
And here is my attempt at getting them all in a shot in the car:
Oh, and one last one of Christina and Ethan:
Tomorrow I will post the goofy ones.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
Prom Season
It is prom season. For the past 9 years I've had at least one of my kids attending a prom, except this year. Not a one. I miss the fun of seeing the kids all dressed up. I always have a flash of a future wedding when I see them. (Scary.) But I don't miss the stress of buying dresses, finding and creating the perfect hair, nails, makeup, shoes....remembering two days before prom that a corsage wasn't ordered or running to the flower shop in midst of fixing hair to pick up the boutonniere.
In honor of the season, here are a couple of pics from previous years. (Sorry Christina, I didn't have one of yours as it was pre-digital cameras, but I will try to find one and scan it in.)
Christopher
Elisabeth
In honor of the season, here are a couple of pics from previous years. (Sorry Christina, I didn't have one of yours as it was pre-digital cameras, but I will try to find one and scan it in.)
Christopher
Elisabeth
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Ants
One hundred and sixty-four of them. Yes, I did count them. I didn't notice them at first when I was walking around on the laundry room floor. I was still wearing these slipper socks from the hospital. They have those fun rubber bumps on the bottom that sometimes feel funny when walking. So the extra crunches weren't initially noticed. After a bit I did notice and realized I'd been stepping on these:
I hate ants of any kind, especially ones that fly and are inside the house. I wasn't too happy about finding them. Of course in my wild attempt to sweep them onto the dustpan, I was knocking clothes off of hangers and onto piles of these ants. I would try to pick the clothing back up shake the attached ants off, only to land them in my basket of clean socks. So I amused myself by counting them as I picked them up.
I hate ants of any kind, especially ones that fly and are inside the house. I wasn't too happy about finding them. Of course in my wild attempt to sweep them onto the dustpan, I was knocking clothes off of hangers and onto piles of these ants. I would try to pick the clothing back up shake the attached ants off, only to land them in my basket of clean socks. So I amused myself by counting them as I picked them up.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Surgery Update
I actually came home feeling better than when I went into the hospital. I had IV antibiotics pre-surgery which, I believe, kicked out a sinus infection I was fighting along with the headache I'd had for days. I went in to have some uterine polyps removed. I found out today that 2 of them were "huge" according to the Dr. and he couldn't get those. He's waiting for the pathologist's report and I go in next Monday to discuss what's next. But I didn't have any of the previous side affects from anesthesia, for which I am thankful. Nor did I need to take any of the pain medication. This morning in my usual routine, half-asleep, I took my morning meds, including Allegra for allergies. Twenty minutes and a 1/2 a cup of coffee later, I realize I did NOT take Allegra but the Darvocet for pain. Hmmmm....I guess I did take pain medication, I just didn't need it.
Now I am going to share a gross factor, so anyone (especially of the male gender) will want to stop reading. For those who don't mind reading the gross details, continue on.
After this type of surgery, there is some bleeding involved. A pad is typically worn (of which females are very familiar.) Before dressing to go home, it seemed as if I was leaking. I asked the nurse who checked and said "no, the pad is dry." Okay, but I feel wetness. I find I am wearing disposable underwear, the kind the give you after having a baby. Fine. I get dressed and go home. Upon arriving home it still feels like something is amiss. Sure enough. I have blood on my clothes. I can't figure this out. The pads they give you are ginormous. Well, they are pretty useless when you find that they have been placed in your special undergarments with the side with the sticky facing up. The absorbent side is down and nobody ever bothered to even remove the plastic that exposes the sticky side. Made me wonder about who was caring for me when you can't even put a pad in correctly. (Hope I didn't offend anyone.)
Now I am going to share a gross factor, so anyone (especially of the male gender) will want to stop reading. For those who don't mind reading the gross details, continue on.
After this type of surgery, there is some bleeding involved. A pad is typically worn (of which females are very familiar.) Before dressing to go home, it seemed as if I was leaking. I asked the nurse who checked and said "no, the pad is dry." Okay, but I feel wetness. I find I am wearing disposable underwear, the kind the give you after having a baby. Fine. I get dressed and go home. Upon arriving home it still feels like something is amiss. Sure enough. I have blood on my clothes. I can't figure this out. The pads they give you are ginormous. Well, they are pretty useless when you find that they have been placed in your special undergarments with the side with the sticky facing up. The absorbent side is down and nobody ever bothered to even remove the plastic that exposes the sticky side. Made me wonder about who was caring for me when you can't even put a pad in correctly. (Hope I didn't offend anyone.)
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