Cute Kitty of the Year

Doug might think this is his chair, but it really belongs to Cookie.

"I don't care that you have a camera. Go away."

He sleeps this way all the time.

Curled toes? Are you kidding me?!?

 

Calm down, Angela. It's just a vase.

Look! I painted a vase and I actually like it! That never happens.

Roughly once per year, some combination of family members and I will go to one of those paint-your-own-pottery places. I spend lots of time picking just the right piece and just the right colors and desperately trying to squeeze some drop of inspiration out of my brain. I labor over the paint job for as long as I can before someone insists that I stop. I lovingly hand the piece over to the employees, hoping they'll tell me how wonderful it looks. Ignoring their lack of enthusiasm, I anxiously wait the week that it takes to be ready, then I go to pick it up. I get the thing in my hands... and I hate it.

This time, I took the opposite approach. I looked over all the pottery and picked the most practical thing - a vase. I picked a few of my favorite colors, with no idea what I would do with them. I did look through an idea book, but I took vague inspiration from a couple of items and then put the book back. I sat down at the table and started painting. When I finished, I said, "Hey! Look what that turned into!" I handed it off to be glazed and fired, hoping only that it would not turn out to be a total waste of money. I gave it only a passing thought after I left and waited nearly two weeks to go back and pick it up.

Imagine my shock when I asked the girl at the front desk for our pieces (Eli painted a T-Rex) and she said something along the lines of, "Oh, that one's yours? I love it! It turned out so great!" And then I got it in my hands and I actually agreed with her! Now I have a vase that I will be proud to display on my dining room table. Maybe I'll get some more of those beautiful daffodils to put in it...

Moral of the story: If you expect your art to look like crap, then you'll be pleasantly surprised if it doesn't.

A Teenager and A Ringwraith

I love this photo. It's Lila, dressed as Cindy Lou Who, trying to force her brother to take a picture with her. He was clearly not interested, but she wasn't taking "no" for an answer. This was the best shot I got. By the third photo, they were both on the ground and she had him in a headlock! To make things even better, they were in the middle of Lila's classroom. At least they were doing it all with smiles on their faces.

These guys have been seriously... refining me this week.

Lila's been copping a teenager-level attitude with me. Sometimes I am able to maintain my composure and politely ask her to use a more respectful tone (and word choice) with me. At other times, I cop an attitude right back. Obviously, I strive for the former response. The latter usually does not end well. For example:

Me: "Okay guys, it's bath time!"
Lila: [hands on hips] "I am not going to take a bath!"
Me: "Don't tell me what you are NOT going to do!"
[Begin downward spiral.]

When Eli was a toddler, he used to make this noise (particularly in the car) that sounded exactly like the shriek of a Ring Wraith. I must say, the sound became much more tolerable after we made that connection and I would occasionally even begin to giggle when he did it. But I digress...

The point is that he has rediscovered that sound and begun using it again... every time we tell him something he doesn't want to hear. For example:

Eli: "What can I have to eat?"
Me: "Well, you've already had a snack and it's not lunchtime yet, so you can have fruit, nuts, or--"
Eli: [interrupting] "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
[Begin brain explosion.]

I really really really hope that this week goes more smoothly. For everyone's sake.

About Lila

For those who are curious, here is the Core Teacher Commentary from Lila's report card for this term:

Lila is doing such a nice job in 1st grade. She is a wonderful reader, consistently performs well on spelling assessments, and is a kind friend to her classmates. As you know, handwriting is a struggle for Lila. Let's just keep encouraging her! I would also like for Lila to focus on math facts this last trimester, especially addition. We would like for her to be able to solve 35 problems in 2 minutes by the end of the year and she is not there yet. Consistency is the key. Keep up the hard work!

Today was Dr. Seuss day in 1st grade. All the students were to choose a character from a Dr. Seuss book, memorize 4-6 lines from that character, dress like the character, then recite the lines in front of the class. Lila (with some encouragement from me) chose to be Cindy Lou Who from How the Grinch Stole Christmas (the book and/or old cartoon - NOT that obnoxious movie).

She did a fantastic job and she made the cutest stinking Cindy Lou Who you've ever seen! I will post photos as soon as I have uploaded them to the computer. The photo you see here is the result of sleeping in sponge rollers overnight. Lila found them in a drawer last week and requested that we use them to give her curly hair for Easter. The classy shirt she's wearing with those adorable curls is a novelty tee from Panama City Beach, FL.

Easter Recap

We were finally starting to finish off some of the candy from Valentine's Day... and Easter happened. We kept the candy in our eggs to a minimum (did half real eggs and half candy-stuffed ones), but there's still the candy they got from Grammie and what was left in the pantry. I wonder if I could convince the kids that a tornado blew through Austin while they were sleeping and ONLY carried off the candy from our pantry...

Aside from the excess of crack candy, we had a lovely Easter weekend! Friday and Monday were both school holidays, so it was also a long weekend. We used Friday, plus about one hour on Monday, to catch up on our schoolwork. Yay! [happy dances] [pretending to forget that we did not make it through all our work today] [humming to self and rocking from side to side]

Saturday was egg dyeing day and attending an Easter service. Austin Ridge had two services on Saturday evening and two on Sunday morning. Since Doug and I were both serving at church on Sunday morning, we attended on Saturday evening. After church, we had a lovely dinner at The Grove. Sunday morning was church again - Doug ran sound for the 3rd/4th/5th graders and I worked in Glory Kids - then home for lunch and Easter egg hunting.

We had dinner at Joe and Irene's in the evening, then came home and crashed! Doug was back at work on Monday, but the kids and I spent the whole day running errands and taking care of various chores. Today, it was back to life as normal. And, as in years past, the kids have re-hidden and re-found the eggs multiple times since the initial hunt. I have requested, several times, that the candy stay in the kitchen when the eggs get hidden, but Eli keeps "forgetting" that detail.

Oh the possibilities...

I'm tired and I don't even want to be looking at this computer screen, but it's been over a week since I posted an update. I don't want to get lazy about it and suddenly realize it's been three months since I wrote anything. It shouldn't matter, since I do this mostly for myself, but I feel guilt anyway. For one thing, this blog is the closest thing to a "baby book" that I've ever kept for the kids. When I'm faithful at updating it regularly, it's even better than a baby book. I'm still kicking myself for letting it sit, untouched for almost two years!

Anyway, in case I haven't mentioned it recently, I'm still freaking out about Eli starting pre-kindergarten in the fall. I'm no longer worried about him being ready. I think he'll have his struggles, but he's going to love it, overall. I'm more worried about ME not being ready. I joked recently that I should probably not go out in public on the first day of school or I might end up snatching the first infant I see. Then again, if I stay home all day, I might end up putting Gypsy in a tiny dress and trying to pass her off as my child.

How is my baby turning 5 years old?!?

I'm trying to get excited about all the things I'll have time to do. Things like... umm... you know... uhh... Oh! I could join BSF again! That might be a really good idea, actually! And Irene and I have talked about having lunch every week (or at least every other week). I could have a weekly mom date! Focused and uninterrupted conversations are a rare treat, particularly while it's still light outside. As long as I don't start watching daytime soaps and talk shows all day, I think I'll be okay.

Gypsy

I finally got some photos of my new little friend today!

She has gotten familiar enough with me that I felt comfortable letting Lila hold her. With my hands free, I was able to snap a few pictures.

So here's Gypsy Pig! She looks a bit suspicious of the situation...




As you can see, her fur is mostly black.

She does have a couple of cute splashes of color though.

My favorite is her one white foot!

She's also got some reddish-brown fur on the back of her neck.

What you can't really see in these photos is the way she has tiny streaks of the same reddish-brown throughout her fur.

Spring Break

We spent most of the past week out of town and it was so busy and (at times) stressful that I never even thought about my blog! Briefly...

Doug had his vasectomy and "recovered" by purchasing a new toy for himself.

We took Irene out for breakfast on her birthday and discovered a great new GF restaurant in the process.

We went to Tuesday Morning to exchange some towels and I got my first new purse in years (because the old one was starting to fall apart).

We drove to Dallas and stayed with the Keith Peelers for a few days.

The kids had tons of fun and only one person ended up with a lasting injury (that would be Lila, with a Beyblade to the forehead).

I fell in love with a quirky little guinea pig and then felt very sad when I couldn't buy her (skin irritation - they couldn't sell her until it cleared up).

We went to the Perot Science and Nature Museum, which was... a science and nature museum.

We had dinner at Iron Cactus downtown where we dared to put all the children at one table and the adults at another.

Actually, I guess Lila's forehead bruise was not the only injury. Eli slipped and bruised his ribs pretty hard on a big rock outside the restaurant.

We went to the Dallas Zoo - the highlights being the lions that were laying around like giant housecats and the koalas that Eli found so cute that he started squealing.

We had an ice cream date with an old friend who I hadn't seen in WAY too long.

We transferred to my dad's house where we spent the next three nights (this was the stressful part).

We worked together with my step-mother to determine that the doctors were giving Daddy too much Xanax.

He got a lower dose of the medication and his lucidity and personality quickly improved.

We had a Merry Easter Christmas celebration with my mom.

I went with Daddy and Susan to meet a naturopathic doctor and I'm really hoping they will both decide to see her regularly.

Personally, I liked the doctor (kate naumes - if you're in the dallas area, look her up) so much that I want to find a good naturopath in Austin for our own little family.

We drove back home to Austin where my puffy-headed husband got a haircut and I bought a guinea pig.

I have named my little piggy Gypsy and I'm working hard to gain her trust.

We had dinner with Doug's parents and their good friend from Rhode Island.

And then today... life as normal. There was school for Lila, work for Doug, and a work-out and trip to the grocery store for Eli and myself.

Whew!

Introvert

Eli talks a lot when we are at home and he says "the darndest things." When we are in public, he goes mute and slightly feral. Last night, we asked him to give his dinner order to our waitress. He plastered on a manic grin, turned bright red, and tried to shove his head behind my body.

If there are more than three people in a room, he tries to climb my body to get into my arms. It's like walking around with a monkey who's not particularly well-trained.

I totally get it though. I don't like talking to strangers either. And a room full of people, all milling around and chatting, is enough to give me a minor anxiety attack. I guess he's taking after me in that respect. (Best of luck to you, my friend.)

I just hope that he learns to place an order at a restaurant without having a stroke or creeping out the waitress!

Every. Day.

Eli eats the same thing for lunch every day. A peanut butter and pepperoni sandwich. Peanut butter on both pieces of bread, so that the whole thing sticks together. Four slices of pizza-sized pepperoni in the sandwich. Four extra pieces on the side. Sandwich cut into four triangles.

This meal is now referred to in our house as The Usual. (Or, if you're Eli, it's The Noozhul.)

I always present this food on a plate, in some artful arrangement. (Or not.)

He always does the following:

First, he rearranges the food elements. Two sandwich triangles go at the top of the plate, for eyes. One triangle goes in the middle, for a nose. The extra pepperoni is lined up along the bottom of the plate, for a mouth.

The fourth sandwich triangle stays in his hand. He eats this one immediately, all the way up to the crust. (And he gets every bit of soft bread off that crust.) Then he pulls the crust apart into several pieces and sprinkles them along the top of the plate, for hair.

The face is complete.

Now he begins eating the face. First one eye, then the other, then the nose. Each sandwich piece is eaten down to the crust, then the crust is torn apart and added to the pile at the top of the plate. Finally, he eats the pepperoni slice mouth.

When he is finished, there is just a pile of torn-up bread crust on his plate.

He then declares, "I won!" (no matter how many times I point out that meals are not a speed competition and/or that it's not exactly a fair match when he begins eating before anyone else).

Lunch is over.

Back in the Saddle

I had a superb weekend with my dear friends!

I am an introvert and my natural tendency is to withdraw and isolate myself, particularly if I'm tired or overwhelmed. I have two small children, so I spend much of my time in that state. At the end of the day, all I want to do is sit on my butt and not talk to anyone.

I know that community is important and it is a vital part of the way that God has created all of us. I used to be part of weekly small group meetings, both as an attender and as a leader. Hanging out together, laughing, discussing life, discussing God, reading the Bible together, praying together and for one another. These are life-giving things! Even introverts need other people.

Over the past few years, I have given in to numerous excuses for not pursuing this kind of community. We changed churches and I wanted to get a feel for the church before I decided where to get plugged in. (It's been two years. That excuse is officially dead.) (Wait. Maybe it's been three years...) It's too difficult to find a small group with child care and I don't like to pay for a babysitter. (Wah.) I don't want to join a women-only small group because I'm intimidated by a group of all women. (Well, that's true, but it's not a sufficient excuse.) I don't want to join a co-ed small group without Doug because that would be awkward. (Eye roll.)

You get the idea.

The result is that I haven't been in community for a few years and my soul is suffering for it. I am aware of this.

This weekend, I was reminded of the beauty of living in community with others and it has left my heart longing for more.

We didn't have an agenda or a schedule. We were just three good friends, hanging out and giving ourselves the opportunity for deep conversation and deep laughter. I want more of that! It's time to take a step forward and find a group to get involved in.

I'm finally listening, God. Thank You for your Faithfulness and Persistence!

Have I ever told you . . .

This is a photo from Wikipedia.
Ours are all on another hard drive.

. . . about my favorite vacation day of all time?

It was in Marseille, France. Doug and I decided that we wanted to travel abroad before we started having children, so we went on a Mediterranean cruise. On this cruise, we met a British couple who told us that we should skip the kids and take more cruises-- but that's another story.

Our first port of call was in Marseille and I was ecstatic. I speak a passable amount of French and had desperately wanted to visit the country since I was in high school. We had no plan for the day, but we were over our jet lag (sleeping for 12 straight hours helped with that) and we both had lots of energy and excitement!

We stepped off the boat and just stood, soaking in the gorgeous weather and staring at our surroundings in awe for a moment. Since we had no plan and needed time to sit and look at our map, we made a bee-line for the nearest outdoor cafe.

So, we were sitting at a cafe, outdoors, in beautiful weather, on the coast, in Marseille... Yep.

When the waiter appeared, I ordered the first thing that came to mind.

"Deux cafe, s'il vous plait."

Being the Americans that we are, we were a little surprised to see two tiny cups of espresso appear before us. (Now I know that we are the odd ones.) We added some sugar -- okay, a lot of sugar -- and took a drink.

Oh. My. Goodness.

This was the perfect cup of coffee. Seriously. I have never tasted better coffee in my life! Every cup of espresso I've tried since that trip has been disgusting. I finally gave up and hold out hope that I'll be in Marseille again someday.

I needed smaller bills with which to tip the waiter, so I went inside and used some very tortured French to ask for change. The host gave me a what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about look and started speaking to me in English. I guess it was that obvious. I was mortified at the time, but now I think it's funny.

Once we had gotten our bearings, we started wandering the streets of this beautiful city. We walked all the way up to Notre Dame de la Garde (seen in the distance of the photo above). That was the sight of another embarrassing moment when I tripped over a kneeler and caused a loud banging noise in the midst of a very quiet church. We slipped a little money in the box, lit a candle, and hauled butt out of there.

We wandered some more and found ourselves outside a little creperie, just as we were getting hungry. It seems a bit redundant to tell you how wonderful these crepes were. Doug had one with many ingredients and I had one with very few. Both were amazing!

After lunch we walked and walked and walked some more.

At one point, we came across a park where several stray cats were gathered. While I was talking to them, an old woman came up and started feeding them. She was trying to talk to me, but didn't seem to grasp that I could not understand what she was saying. I caught about every 5th word and that did not help me. I tried telling her that I did not understand, that I didn't speak French, etc. (all in French, mind you), but she just kept talking. We finally started smiling apologetically, waving, and slowly backing away.

Heck, for all I know, she wasn't even talking to me. She could have been talking to the cats about me. I'll never know.

As it neared dinner time, we finally made our way back to the boat. We had walked miles that day. We were sore. We were exhausted. We were sunburned. We were blissfully happy.

And that was my favorite vacation day of all time.

[sigh]

Just what we need...

I will look at the pretty flowers and think simple thoughts.

Oh dear, Lila has started a new collection. She's already got more toys than she could possibly enjoy and she gets hostile if I throw anything away.

"Noooooo!" [weeping and gnashing of teeth] "That was my favorite piece of paper! Aaaaaaargh!" *

Now she has decided to collect empty tissue boxes to use as Polly Pocket houses. Over dinner, she and Doug were developing grand plans for a Polly Pocket Condo and Hotel. It sounds harmless enough (and rather inventive), but I know what that really means. I will be finding stomped and flattened tissue boxes all over my house and I won't be allowed to get rid of them.

She's even trying to make it sound like the environmentally responsible thing to do.

"This way I can use them again and we don't have to waste them by recycling them!"

*sigh* Why am I the only person in my house who likes to get rid of things?

--

* This actually happened.

I get to have a weekend away with two of my best friends and no kids. I am so excited! I plan to relax my butt off and laugh until I cry. Often. And I really don't think that anyone will be missing me much. The Daddy-Daughter Dance is on Friday, which will keep Doug and Lila entertained. Eli will spend that time with some of his grandparents. They both have gymnastics class on Saturday morning and Doug mentioned a trip to Chuck E. Cheese later in the day.

"Mom? What mom? . . . Do I have a mom?"

Meanwhile, I'm going to do wild and crazy things. Like, complete entire meals and conversations without interruption!

You know that scene from A Christmas Story where the family sits down to dinner, but every time the mother tries to take a bite of food, somebody asks for something? I never understood that scenario before I had kids! I was annoyed by the whole scene and couldn't figure out why she didn't just tell them to get up and help themselves. Then I had my own family. Now I'll find myself bouncing back out of my seat for the fifth time before I've even begun to eat, I think of that scene, and I have to laugh.

[Note: I wanted to embed that movie clip in my post, but I couldn't find it anywhere! After that, I decided I'd use another funny clip from the movie. Turns out that it's very difficult to find good quality 'A Christmas Story' clips online. Most of them are people filming their TV screen as they play the VHS tape. I'll give you another video of my children instead.]

Have I mentioned how much my son loves Adele?

Undeniable Proof of my Son's Insanity

I hate tattling.

The following scenario takes place all the stinkin' time...

[Somewhere in the house, a child begins screaming as though they are being dismembered. The Doppler effect indicates that the child is running in my direction.]

Child #1: Lila/Eli hit me!

Me: Wow, that sounds frustrating. Why did she/he hit you?

Child #1: For no reason!

Me: Really? Well, you might want to stay away from her/him if they're being rude!

Child #1: NO!

[Child stomps out of room, full of purpose. There is a pause. Somewhere in the house, the other child begins screaming. The Doppler effect indicates that this child is now running in my direction.]

Child #2: Eli/Lila threw a toy at me!

Me: Oh, no! Why did he/she do that?

Child #2: For no reason!

Me: Did you hit him/her a few minutes ago?

Child #2: [shifty eyes] . . . no.

Me: Wow! You might want to stay away from him/her if they're going to be rude.

[Child stomps out of room, grumbling under their breath. I rub my temples and go back to whatever I was trying to do.]

This leads me to two conclusions:

1. My children are crazy.

2. They think I am stupid.

Rambling and Ranting

Okay, there will be no photos with this post because I'm using a different computer and this one has no personal photos on it. For months now, I've been using a "loaner" computer that Doug brought home from work. It was supposed to be a temporary setup - until we bought a replacement for my poor old desktop (manufacturer rest it's soul). But then we didn't have the budget to buy a new computer and so I still had the loaner.. I've made myself quite comfortable on it!

Well, today Doug brought home a new system for me to test. If I like it, then I'll be getting one. The bad news: It runs Windows 8. My first test drive left me wanting to throw the computer on the ground and then stomp it to bits. After getting some dinner into my body and allowing Doug to install some driver updates, I think I'm getting the hang of it. I still want to pick up the system that I'm comfortable with though. So, all of that is to say, I'm making myself type out tonight's blog post on the new computer.

Lila, who just got her own e-reader/tablet for Christmas, started trying to get her hands on the loaner computer as soon as this new one came through the door. She's a major "wanter". If she sees something new or pretty or shiny - she wants it! There's no logic involved. She just wants. Human nature, I suppose. I told her to go use her own new toy and be content. I have long sworn that I would not have an e-reader in my house, but Doug convinced me that this would work well for Lila.

I refuse to read books on it myself though. I must have real book, made of real paper, with real pages to turn. Call me names if you will. I refuse to budge on this issue. I still dream of one day having a library with floor-to-ceiling shelves, lined with books. Rolling ladders! Wood paneling! Fireplace and squashy armchairs! If anyone sets foot in this fantasy sanctuary with an electronic device, they will be cast into the dungeon forthwith!

Food Waste Confession

I am getting terrible about using up my produce before it can go bad! This is a half-bunch of kale that was supposed to become Kale Chips. Instead, it sat in the fridge until it became dry and crumbly. You totally can't tell from the photo, but I assure you that it was no longer edible.

We also had to throw out some roasted red pepper hummus. We were eating it (that is Lila's favorite flavor), but when you buy food with no preservatives... well, you gotta eat fast! We did make it 2/3 of the way through the cup before it went bad.

And speaking of hummus-- well, I hate to admit this, but I bought bacon-flavored hummus yesterday. Personally, I have no intention of eating it because I don't like bacon all that much. However, I knew that Doug would get a kick out of it.

And a No Waste Rules! victory: We had a dinner of leftovers last night that finished off three different dishes from our fridge! Yay! I wanted to clear things out as much as possible before I cooked again tonight. Now we have a large quantity of Tomato Bisque to work on and boy is it yummy!

Sleepy Time!

First of all, I cannot believe that my baby is starting school in the fall. Seriously. It freaks me out. I got to go and tour a Pre-K class at Veritas this morning, to get an idea of what it will be like. I took a few photos and shared them with Eli when I got home. He's excited about the work, but nervous about the big group things (like recess). I am 0% surprised by this information.

Doug is putting the kids to bed right now and boy do they need sleep! Lila asked if she could have her game time before bed. I told her she could, but only 20 minutes because that's how long it was until they needed to brush teeth. In the following 20 minutes, she dissolved into a fussy, whiny heap at least three times. When 8 o'clock rolled around, and I was finally able to get Lila to turn the game off, Eli and I had this exchange:

Eli: [whining] "I'm tiiired."
Me: "I'm not surprised! It's bedtime. Both of you go brush your teeth, please."
Eli: [instantly hostile] "NO! I'm not dat tired! Just a little bit tired!"

Yeah, obviously.

Lila actually headed right up to brush her teeth. Eli oozed off the couch and up the stairs at the speed of a snail. He might have brushed his teeth by now. Or he might be standing in the bathroom, playing with his toothbrush.

A Lizard

Eli, once again, had his rest time in the back yard today. When I had finished watching last night's Ghost Hunters rest time was over, I opened the back door to tell him that he could come inside. Before I could speak, he said,

"Mom! Come here. You have to see this! . . . Don't freak out."

That last comment had me freaking out in advance, but it turned out to be this awesome lizard that Eli wanted to show me. I'm surprised he spotted it in the first place because, as you can see, it is superbly camouflaged! We stared at it for a minute, then went to get Lila and the camera. We all came back outside and stared at it some more. Eli was convinced that it was dead and kept saying,

"I fink it's just a skull."

After we had all crowded around it (making no effort to be quiet) and I'd snapped half-a-dozen photos and the thing still hadn't moved a muscle... I started to think Eli was right. I asked him if he wanted to touch it, to see if it was alive, and his response was to take a step backward and command me to do it. Lila wasn't interested either, so I went for it. I'm not remotely afraid of lizards, but I don't like the kind of surprise where someone sneaks up on you and says, "Boo!"

Or the kind of surprise where a lizard plays dead and then attacks your face when you try to touch it. I reached out veeery slowly and touched the lizard's tail. Nothing. I pushed its tail to one side a little. Nothing. I decided it was, in fact, dead and began to pick it up (gently) by the tail. It still did a remarkable job of pretending to be dead until I pulled one of its feet loose from the board and it grabbed back on. I wasn't worried about being surprised by this point, so I kept at it.

The little guy - well, big for a backyard lizard - hung on with all his might, but I finally got him loose and into my hand. I stayed still (and close to the ground, in case he jumped) and he just sat and stared at me for a bit. I had hoped to get a photo of him sitting on my hand, but I didn't have a chance to grab the camera. As soon as he saw his chance, the dude took of like a shot. He moved so fast that I didn't even see where he went!

It was a fun little adventure and I enjoyed seeing aspects of Eli's personality reflected in the experience. He was observant (spotted the lizard). He was patient (waited for rest time to be over). He was excited to share his find with us. He anticipated others' reactions ("Don't freak out."). He was respectful of the creature (i know many kids would have been all over the poor thing as soon as they saw it). He's just a great little guy and I know he's going to be a great man, as well. :)

Food Waste and a Rash

Honestly, I wasn't sure that butternut squash could go bad, but I managed it. Back in December, I made butternut hummus for a block party. It was very well-received and our neighbor asked for the recipe. I figured I'd do even better and make a batch for her. I bought the squash just before Christmas, with the intention of making the hummus just after Christmas. Instead, I got sick and stayed that way for 5 days. Then school started, etc. You get the idea. The result = squishy squash.

Doug did some massive trimming/pruning/clearing out in our yard a couple of weeks ago and now he's got poison something-or-other all over his arms. For the second year in a row. This leads me to 4 points:

1. There is poison something-or-other lurking in our yard and we don't know what or where it is. Doug is the only one who's ever had a problem with it, so whatever-it-is must be in an out of the way spot. Still, not a comforting idea. We've already got stinging nettle to watch out for!

2. Doug needs to wear long sleeves and long pants when doing yard work. Even when it's a lovely warm day (in the middle of January). If he goes to the dermatologist with the same problem next year, she might smack him. If so, I want to watch.

3. My beloved husband is getting no love until all the poison something-or-other is gone from his body. I won't even sit on his side of the bed right now. "Happy Valentine's Day to you, too, Honey. Now take your pus somewhere else."

4. The doctor put him on a 20-day regimen of steroids (along with an ointment) to clear this up. The 'Roid Rage jokes started before he even took the first dose. For years, Doug has been joking about building a PMS Shed in the back yard (for me, of course). I told him he could go ahead and build it, then live in it until he's through with the drugs.

But it's so cute!

I'm not sure who's more obsessed with animals - me or my daughter. We both love anything small and furry. Or large and furry. Or large and not furry. Basically, if it's warm-blooded, then we want one. I also love snakes, but I'm not sure I could bring myself to feed mice to one. Lila is terribly afraid of bees and mosquito hawks (of all things), but she nearly cried the other night when I wouldn't let her rescue a moth from Cookie. In fact, she did cry once when I found some disgusting-looking larva in my house and threw it away.

She wanted me to release it into the wild. Um, no. I was afraid it might be a termite or something. (Plus, it was totally grossing me out.)

If we had every animal that we've asked Doug to let us bring home, we would own (at least):

A dozen cats

A few dogs

A goat

A bird or two

A chameleon

Several cages of rodents - mice, hamsters, guinea pigs, etc.

A hedgehog

Two horses

A cow

A vegetarian python

A large tortoise

A sugar glider
A bunny

That's not even addressing the more exotic creatures we'd love to own. Like a koala.

For now, we content ourselves by visiting Cute Overload as often as possible.

Under Foot

I'm really not sure who's worse about being under foot - the kids or the cats.

The Kids: I have a tendency to suddenly change my mind about what I'm doing, stop, turn around, and walk the other way. The kids follow me around so closely that I end up tripping over one of them half the time. That happens daily. This evening, there were three adults in the kitchen, all doing various tasks to get dinner on the table. There were also three kids milling about, not doing anything helpful. I swerved to avoid an adult and ended up kicking Eli in the foot so hard that I gouged him with my toenail!

The Cats: Charlie is mostly brown, with black stripes. We have a floor mat in the kitchen that is roughly the same shade of brown. Charlie has a white belly and feet, but you can't really see them when he's laying with his legs all tucked under. He likes to lay on the brown mat, with his feet all tucked under him... in the dark. It's like he wants to be kicked! And Cookie, whose food bowl is right next to the kitchen island, likes to eat with his tail sticking straight out behind him. I don't even know how many times it's been stepped on!

Add to all of this the fact that I can barely walk through a room without hurting myself (let's not forget that I hurt my eye with a tissue while attempting to blow my nose) and it's practically a circus around here!

Food Waste Confession

Well, this was not a good week for No Waste Rules! The thyme, though I used it in two meals, went bad before I could use the rest.

The avocado was a loss due to my own negligence. Most of the avocados they had at the store that day were hard as rocks! I bought the ripest one I could find and brought it home. I made one cut into it with the knife and I could tell that it was nowhere near being ready to eat. Rather than putting it in the fridge, I put it back in the bowl on the counter. I don't know what I was thinking. By the time we tried cutting it again, it was gross. Doug ate some of it, but the rest had to go.

And don't be fooled by that celery. It may look okay, but it had achieved the flexibility of al dente pasta. Actually, it looks like it was approaching the color of pasta as well.

I am very happy to say, however, that I haven't had to throw away any leftovers in... long enough that I don't remember. That used to be my biggest problem. I would make dinner, pack up the leftovers, then let them sit in the fridge until they went bad. Do my children appreciate being presented with the same soup three nights in a row? No. Do I feel great knowing that I'm putting healthy food in front of my children every night, and not wasting any of it? YES!

A Ghost?

A couple of weeks ago, Eli spent the night with his grandparents and Lila stayed home with us. We were waiting for Doug to get home from work, so it was just Lila and myself in the house. I ran a bath for her, called out to let her know that it was ready, and stepped into the Little Girls' Room. I pulled the door mostly closed behind me and, um, sat down. A few seconds later, I saw something go past the crack in the door, heading into the bathroom. Naturally, I assumed it to be Lila heading for the bath.

When I came out of the bathroom, the first thing I saw was a small cradle in the middle of my bedroom floor, still rocking. It was creepy.

I looked around and Lila was nowhere to be seen. I walked over to the tub, thinking maybe she was just slumped down out of sight. All I saw was a half-dozen fairies at the bottom of the water, most of them face down. This was also creepy.

I think there's a baby-stealing, fairy-killing, ghost in our house. It's the only logical conclusion.

Runaway Mom

The Two Dwarves - Sleepy and Shifty

Oh. My. Goodness.

This was a long and exhausting day! Lila was in rare form and she ended up spending a fair chunk of time alone in her room. She flat-out refused to do her school work several times. I'm the type of person who has a very hard time deviating from a set routine or schedule. If I am given a list of homework assignments to be done on homeschool days, then I want to do them in order, from beginning to end. This does not fly well with Lila's personality, so I make an effort to be flexible and let her make as many decisions about our school day as I can. We run into problems, however, when she doesn't like any of her choices and decides to go on strike.

I am pleased to say that I kept my cool through 95% of the chaos. I didn't start getting agitated and snippy until around 3:30. At that point, I shut it all down and sent the kids into the back yard. We will have extra schoolwork to do tomorrow, but at least I didn't yell at anyone! Once I had given up on any further schooling, I desperately wanted to crawl under a rock (or my comforter) and not come out for several hours. I sent Doug a message, begging him to let me disappear for the evening and he agreed -- God bless him! I somehow managed to bathe the children before he got home from work and then I split.

I spent an hour at Mama Fu's and an hour at Barnes & Noble and I am feeling much restored. When I got home, Doug was putting the kids to bed. I went up to their room to kiss them goodnight...

Lila: "Mom, where were you?"
Me: "In a faraway land--"
Doug: "--called Barnes & Noble--"
Me: "--where I was surrounded by books and silence."

Then I kissed my dubious children on the head and left the room with a peaceful smile upon my face.

Warning: Post Written Under Influence of Headache

I think this is the first evening in a week that I've been able to sit in a quiet room and type. It's this perfect little window of time while Doug is putting the kids to bed - the distractions of the day are done, but I haven't turned my brain off yet. I haven't had it for several days because Doug was sick, then there was the weekend, and then a school meeting last night. Since Christmas, it seems like there have been unusual circumstances popping up to muck with my schedule.

Tonight, all is as it should be. (Almost.) I cooked a wonderful corn chowder for dinner and we were able to relax together afterward. Now Doug is putting the kids to bed and the only sounds I'm hearing are the ones I want to hear. Now, if this headache would go away, it would be a near-perfect evening! I call this an Onion Headache. Cutting onions gives me headaches and makes my eyes feel icky for hours afterward. I am allergic to them and I don't even have to eat the silly things to have a reaction! I would quit cooking with them if they didn't add such good flavor!

(There are several foods that I cannot eat raw, due to allergies, but they don't bother me when cooked.)

I had a funny conversation about food with Eli yesterday. He was having The Usual for lunch - a peanut butter and pepperoni sandwich - and asked me if I'd like some pepperoni with my sandwich. There followed a very sweet discussion about why I choose not to eat animal products most of the time. He was really thinking about it and asking good questions. Then, he must have been considering whether or not he wanted to make the same commitment because he was quiet for a moment, then he said, "Dere's not many fings dat I eat.

I guess he realized that cutting animal products out of his diet leave him with very few food choices. He's a very thoughtful little guy. I am so fascinated by my children's personalities!

There will be NO photo with this post, thank you.

I had just taken a shower. I stepped out and dried off. My eye was hurting like there was something in it. I leaned in very close to the mirror and pulled my eyelid down. There it was! An eyelash, poking me in the eyeball. I began to carefully nudge it out with my finger.

Meanwhile, my children were plotting evil. They crept up to the bathroom door. They let out ear-splitting shrieks. They took off running. I almost lost an eye. They are lucky that I was naked and they were fast.

Since they got such a delightful reaction out of me the first time, the sneak-up-and-scream became a game. I tried to ignore them and go about my business of getting dressed. The runninng (they became less sneaky with each round) and screaming got annoying.

I heard them coming. I snuck out of the bathroom and into my bedroom. As Lila rounded the corner into my room, I jumped out and yelled. She screamed and ran. I won. Hah! . . . Then I noticed that she was carrying her video camera. Did she have that with her the first time?

So, my daughter may or may not have video evidence of me nearly poking my own eye out. In front of a full-length mirror. While naked. With a towel on my head. I should make sure that disappears before she's old enough to have her own Facebook page.

I'm not as hostile as I look. I swear!

I am one of those people who never likes any photo of themselves. I am guaranteed to find a dozen things that make me look like a troll. Obviously, it's the pictures that are terrible and not me!

This photo from Christmas morning is no exception, but it does crack me up. I look like I'm about to use that lamp as a weapon against the photographer, who happens to be my husband. ("I ask for a kitten, and this is what you get me?" - Angela Peeler, in the Sitting Room, with the Lamp) I am also a little frightened by my eyebrows. Do they look that narrow in real life?!? Nah, must be the picture... If you look out the window, it appears that we opened our presents in the middle of the night. That's totally not true though. It was at least 4 a.m. when the first child came into our room!

I had another Mommy Meltdown this afternoon. I deal with disrespect and argument on a regular basis. My children are young (and related to me), so I expect this. Most of the time, it doesn't really get to me. It's annoying, sometimes amusing, but I have hope that these people will someday turn into well-functioning members of society. And maybe they'll even begin to treat me with gratitude and respect. Like, when they're 60. Anyway, with Lila contradicting every sentence that came out of my mouth and Eli talking over us and making demands like some pampered prince... I totally blew my cool. There was yelling. There was apologizing (me, not them). There was a concerted effort to make it through the rest of the day without yelling (again, me, not them). I think we'll all survive.

If they stop trying to tell me what to do.

I was even a softie with Eli this morning. I let him skip his last swim class because there was going to be a substitute teacher and he was pretty anxious about it. I am usually rather firm with the "If we pay for it, then you will go" rule, but I didn't want to force it this time. He hated swim class in the summer. And then he liked it and proclaimed that he wanted to keep taking classes in the fall, so we signed him up. Then he hated it. Then he loved it. Most recently, he's hating it again. He doesn't like to put his face in the water because it makes his eyes sting. But he also doesn't like to wear goggles because they are "too tight". If you loosen the goggles until he is comfortable, then water starts leaking in and stinging his eyes and we're right back where we started. [shakes head and rubs temples]

Recently, he and Lila both decided they'd rather do gymnastics again, so we're wrapping up swim (Eli - this week) and violin (Lila - end of the month). In February, they'll be back to taking simultaneous gymnastics classes and I'll have a guaranteed 45 minutes per week with no whining. Sounds good to me!

I am typing this in a state of bliss.

One of my very favorite places to eat, before discovering my gluten intolerance, was Texadelphia. In fact, I ate there weekly while I was pregnant with Eli. They have great cheese steaks and (nearly) perfect french fries! Sadly, there is nothing gluten-free about the place, so we had to stop eating there two years ago and I've been mourning the loss ever since. The other day, I was craving a cheese steak so badly that I decided I would take us there, bring my own gluten-free bread, and ask them for a bowl of meat and toppings to go on it. Once I got some other food into my body, I realized that what a bad idea that was.

Skip forward to today. This was my week to choose our restaurant for Family Dinner Out and I decided on Wholly Cow Burgers. Doug and I ate there once before, on a date night, and I had a burger. It was super-tasty, but the french fries left something to be desired. However, it's the only place around here (that I know of) where you can get gluten-free buns and I was craving meat. We got to the counter... I looked at the menu... and saw... Wholly Cheesesteak! With bated breath, I asked if they could serve that on gluten-free bread - and they said yes! (Cue the trumpets!)

This is what my face looked like when I saw the menu.

It was the best thing I have ever tasted. I devoured the entire thing with all the passion that two years of unfulfilled craving can produce. The meat was perfectly cooked and the whole thing was gooey with cheese. It was the most un-vegan meal in the world and I loved it! I confessed to Doug that I was feeling particularly affectionate toward the person who had cooked my cheese steak and he escorted me out of the restaurant before I could start embarrassing anyone.

To all my Gluten-Free Austinite friends: Go directly to Wholly Cow and order the Wholly Cheesesteak on gluten-free bread. You will thank me.*

*I accept thanks in the form of Wholly Cow gift cards.

I like my kids. A lot.

I think Lila's favorite Christmas gift this year was the Barbie digital video camera that she got from Grammie and Papa Joe. I take a peek at her recordings every now and then and I've found some pretty entertaining things on there. She recorded parts of the Christmas celebrations, of course. She has followed both cats and her brother around, harassing them with the camera. She has recorded little scenes acted out with toys. She conspired with Grammie to record some news and weather reports.

I love it!

I have finally gotten serious about trying to teach Eli something before he goes to Pre-K. He's picked up most of his knowledge and skills by natural ability and observing his sister. He can count pretty well, up to 20. (Although he has an inexplicable bias against the number 12. We've tried to convince him that you can't just decide to skip a number because you don't like it. So far, he's standing firm.) He's got wicked fine motor skills too. He is as good at Jenga as I am and he is so good at coloring that he's spurred Lila to try harder!

Now if only they could be in the same room for more than 30 seconds without getting into a fist fight...

MORE Food Waste? Really?!?

Boy, I'm having a hard time getting back on the horse after Christmas break and being sick! Thus my second food waste confession in a week. Boo.

I think it's helping that school started back up this week. I made it to the gym today, which is a step in the right direction. Now I need to get our fridge under control, stop napping during the day, and start blogging in the evenings again. One step at a time, I guess.

This one I don't feel too bad about. I diced an entire bell pepper and put it in the fridge for sprinkling on salads. This was all that was left when it finally went bad. Using it the whole thing would have been better, but I'll settle for most of it. Especially given all the extra eating-out we did around Christmas!

 

These are chives. I only used a little of them and then they sat in the crisper drawer until they were far from crisp. I just didn't know what to do with them, so I avoided them. Typical. I suppose I should have chopped them up and added them to salads too.

 

Finally, a bunch of parsley. I used some for a recipe and then it suffered the same fate as the chives. I don't like parsley well enough to put it on just anything. I guess I'd better be more deliberate about making a plan for the leftovers next time, rather than waiting for some divine inspiration to hit me.

 

I made a delightful soup last night (which you might have already heard me complain talk about on Facebook). Rosemary White Bean Soup. It was supposed to be for last night's dinner, but the dumb beans wouldn't get soft! It took three hours of simmering (on top of the 10 hours of soaking) before they were finally done. Needless to say, we came up with a Plan B for last night's meal and had the soup tonight. It was so very tasty and worth the wait! I paired it with GF Rosemary and Herb Focaccia and salad and YUMMY! It was a big pot of soup, so we should be working on this one for a few days.

 

Challenge to myself: Tomorrow I will take stock of all that is in the refrigerator. I will throw away what has already gone bad (maybe i'll get lucky and there won't be anything!) and make specific plans for everything else.

 

You guys hold me to that, okay?

I am having trouble with Blogger for some reason. When I try to upload a photo, the dialogue box pops up... but key elements of it are missing.

Frustrating!!

Easing Back Into Things

I figured I'd miss a few posts during the week of Christmas. There was just too much fun being had and our schedule was all over the place.

 

What I did not anticipate was the five days I'd be spending in bed once Christmas was over. It was gnarly. I'm feeling much better now, but I'm still pretty tired.

 

That being said, I think I'll ease back into things with a Food Waste Confession.

 

This is a delightful Tuscan Pumpkin Pasta Sauce that I bought back in October. I ate it a couple of times before I took a second look at the label and discovered that it had milk in it. Since I strive to be strictly vegan at home, I quit eating it and no one else paid any attention to the poor lonely jar of sauce. I couldn't bring myself to throw it away while it was still good, so I let it sit in the fridge until it started getting furry.

 

Very logical, Angela. 

These are the remains of a bunch of cilantro and I'm actually quite proud of this one! I am pretty sure that this is the closest I have ever come to finishing off a bunch of cilantro. I chopped the whole bunch, put it in this container, and added it to every salad and dish that crossed my path until it went to the Slimy Place.

 

Oh, and one more thing. I was looking through one of our refrigerator drawers earlier and spotted what appeared to be a tub of bleu cheese crumbles. Since no one in my family can stand bleu cheese, I took a second look. It was actually a tub of feta cheese crumbles that had gone blue. Ick. That went straight into the garbage can. (Honestly, I can't imagine that it tasted much different than real bleu cheese.)

Block Party

Things have been mighty busy around here this week. Tonight we went to a block party at the end of our street and had a lot of fun! It was pot luck and I was completely lacking inspiration for what to make. (could have something to do with the sinus headache i was battling.) I still didn't know what I was going to do when I got to Whole Foods, so I grabbed their monthly flyer and perused the recipes in there. I found a simple recipe for Butternut Hummus and went for it.

I thought the butternut squash was never going to finish cooking, but the hummus turned out very well. I heard a couple of people commenting on how good it was, without knowing who had made it, so I was quite pleased with myself. Not that I came up with the idea on my own... but I executed it!

Anyway, the party was fun. There was plenty of food and drinks and Christmas lights and music. The whole thing was set up in a large bit of yard between two houses and I'd guess there were about 30 adults there, all from our block. The kids camped out in a backyard with Christmas videos on a big screen and the adults chatted around a fire pit. I planted myself on a comfy chair, near a heater and the fire, wrapped up in a blanket and chatted with whoever got close to me. (It is, ironically, about 20 degrees cooler than when I posted my complaint on Tuesday.)

Around 7:00, we herded our children into the car and drove around the neighborhood to look at Christmas lights. As anticipated, we enjoyed it more than they did, but I reminded them (as i did last year) that this is just what parents do to their children at Christmas time. Our parents did it to us. We do it to them. They will do it to their children. Doug calls it the Circle of Life.

We went back to the party for a bit after that, but everyone was cold and tired by that point. Now the kids are in bed, I'm typing and waiting for my toes to thaw, and Doug has headed back to the party. Maybe I'll wrap a few more presents while he's gone. Or maybe I'll sit here and snuggle with a warm cat until I can't stay awake anymore...

Dreaming of a White Moderately Chilly Christmas

I have lived in Texas for 34 years, 7 months, and 21 days. I have lived in Austin for 16 years, 4 months, and [some number of] days. So why do I still get surprised and disappointed when it's 81 degrees in the middle of December? I mean, the weather is beautiful and all, but it's supposed to be cold outside! How am I supposed to roast chestnuts on an open fire, have Jack Frost nipping at my nose, and all that jazz when it's 81 degrees out?!?

I blame TV and movies for this dissatisfaction with an aspect of my life that I cannot change. (well, okay, i could change it by moving out of state, but that's not happening.) Every Christmas movie involves snow. Half the shows I watch on TV take place in a city where people actually have to wear coats when they step out the front door. I do everything in my power to avoid commercials because I don't want to be brainwashed, but somehow I overlooked this one!

(What do you mean, I have control issues? You take that back! Now!)

[sigh]

Well, cold or not, I guess I'd better start wrapping these Christmas gifts...

Food Waste and Mummies

The food waste is pretty minimal this time. You remember that strange concoction that I made before Thanksgiving? Well, we all ate as much of it as we could stand to eat and this is what was leftover. Remind me not to put fresh cranberries in my dinner anymore, m'kay? There are still some herbs and a bit of canned pumpkin languishing in my fridge, so I may have to post another update soon. It all depends on how creative I get this week!

 

We took a family trip to San Antonio today, to see the Mummies of the World exhibit at the Witte Museum. All of the 1st Graders at Lila's school have been studying Ancient Egypt and that included a brief study of mummification. I saw a LivingSocial deal for this exhibit and it seemed like a perfect tie-in. It was grim, but fascinating! Eli was creeped out by the whole thing, except for the mummified cats, which he declared to be "cute". We were all creeped out by the mummified babies.

 

The museum seemed like a great one for kids, but we didn't get to explore beyond the mummy exhibit. Once we came out of that wing, it was lunchtime. We were planning to eat lunch, grab a little quiet time in the car, then head back for more fun. Unfortunately, the kids couldn't manage to stay quiet for even 5 minutes in the car and they gave no indication that their rowdiness and disrespect would get better outside of the car, so we called it a day and drove back home.

 

Lila had her own little adventure when she got separated from us and was temporarily lost. Doug and Eli (who had had all the dead bodies he could stand) left the exhibit first and went out to the lobby, or so I thought. Lila was ready to go about 5-7 minutes sooner than me, so I told her she could head out of the exhibit and wait with Dad. I assumed that had worked out. What really happened was that the boys had gone into an adjoining room, which was not visible from the lobby.

 

When Lila didn't see them, she went out the front doors to look. (I suppose she remembered an employee telling us at the beginning that we couldn't re-enter the mummy exhibit once we left.) Someone spotted her and directed her to a museum security guard. I came out of the exhibit a few minutes later, oblivious to the whole thing, and was headed for Doug and Eli when the security guard stopped me.

 

I thought he was about to hassle me about not having a ticket or something, but he said they were trying to find the parents of a lost little girl. I said, "Oh, that's probably my daughter!" I followed the man outside and there she was, sitting calmly with a couple of Fire Department EMTs who happened to be there at the same time. The whole thing scared her, naturally, but she was very brave and was able to give them her name, my name, my phone number, and what city we were from.

 

The security guard called my phone to let me know where Lila was, but that didn't do much good since we were made to power off our phones before going in to see the mummies. There was just one little tear on her cheek - very pitiful. I picked her up and held her tight and thanked the men for helping her. On the way back to the car, I asked her if she needed to talk about what happened. She said, "No." I asked her if she wanted to talk about what happened. She said, "No."

 

Over lunch, we did discuss a little bit about good protocol if you get separated from your group and we decided that we'd have a meet-up location from now on, whenever we go to a big place like that. I'm just thanking God that it all turned out as well as it did and not letting myself think about all the things that could have happened!

Second Chances

Sometimes I forget that God loves to give us second chances. I have had a rough week that was really starting to snowball. I have been irritable and had very little patience with the faults of others. The number of errands that needed to be run this week was well above average and that, on top of all the holiday activities that we've been planning, left me feeling over-scheduled and out of control. Nothing triggers the nasty side of my personality like the feeling that others are trying to exert control (real or imagined) over my life. So I found myself distancing myself from my husband, snapping at my children, and... basically, being a jerk.

During moments of clarity, I was aware of my behavior and it made me sick. It's not something that I like to admit, but empathy is a trait that I have to actively strive for in myself. It does not come naturally to me. When I stopped to listen to my own words to my kids, I could hear the sharp edge and lack of empathy behind the words and I felt awful. Toward the end of the week, Eli started getting sick and that, sadly, only made things worse.

 

I want to make my kids feel wrapped in love and cared-for when they are sick, but I was still suffering from this awful irritability. I was trying to be compassionate toward Eli, but finding myself angry when he didn't act or respond the way that I wanted him to. I was also struggling against resentment toward him and his illness for interfering with my plans. And that just made me feel like a bigger jerk.

 

Like I said, it was all beginning to snowball. By the time yesterday afternoon rolled around, I was in a full-blown funk. I had decided that I was "ruining Christmas" and didn't deserve to be anyone's mother. Unfortunately, the latter sentiment is an old refrain for me. I lay in bed for a long time last night, with a sick 4-year-old coughing on the back of my head, and felt sorry for myself. I woke up this morning feeling just as crummy. Blergh.

 

But, this is where the God of Second Chances comes in. Lila was not home, Renee was not home, Doug and Eli were in the backyard, and I found myself alone in the living room. I couldn't muster the motivation to do anything more than lay on the couch and stare... but that was the perfect place for God to speak to me. He showed me the lies that I was believing: that it was my job to create a perfect Christmas for my kids, that I was failing, that I should give up.

 

He reminded me of what Christmas really is and how its perfection has nothing to do with my actions. It seems so obvious now! Christmas is a celebration of Jesus, the greatest gift ever given. If our focus is on Jesus, then it is a perfect Christmas. Participating in traditions and planning activities can definitely be fun, and they are a good thing - as long as they are pointing our focus in the right direction, rather than dragging our attention away from Him.

 

I was grumpy and rude to my family. That sucks and I can't change it. But I can acknowledge my sin, ask for forgiveness, and rely on the strength of the Savior we celebrate to help me do better today. I won't be perfect, but that's okay because He is perfect and He loves to give us second chances!

Today's Tears

I have been in such a funk today, starting even before I heard about that horrible thing that happened this morning. Now that I've finally taken the time to sit down and find out more about what happened, I am in tears. I just can't stop crying. I am so thankful for my babies. I need to post this photo, for myself, to remind me of what I have and how precious it is. Never do I struggle more with the idea of life being outside my control than when I consider something happening to my children.

A Glimpse into my Mind

I recently had a bruise pop up on my right thigh. I have no idea how it got there, but it was dark purple and roughly the size of a Ritz cracker. It always annoys me when that happens because it seems unfair. I could drop an anvil on my head and it wouldn't leave a mark, but I just wake up one morning and I have this big bruise and no story to go with it! What good is a bruise without a story to go with it?!? Anyway, the bruise is nearly faded now, but I noticed that there is a pea-sized knot under the skin in roughly the same spot.

Doug had already seen the bruise and last night I introduced him to the knot. This conversation followed...

Doug: That's weird.

Me: I know! I think someone injected something into my leg while I was sleeping.

Doug: I think you're right. It was probably the aliens! That's where they injected the tiny alien tracking device. If you cut it out of your leg, it's going to sprout legs and start running around like an insect!

Me: OR it means that I'm actually a paranoid schizophrenic living in a mental institution and this whole wonderful life I think that I'm living is actually an elaborate delusion and this spot on my leg is where they injected me with medication and the injection site has made it's way into my delusion, which is either a fluke or it means that the medication is starting to work.

Doug: I think you're on to something there. Maybe you should talk to your psychiatrist about that.

Me: No, I never tell him the good stuff. It would only worry him.