Happy 18th Birthday to "the son of my womb" and "does my butt look big in these pants?"

That phrase tends to disturb him. I'm not for sure why. Possibly because I say it in a corny tone mostly to bug him. I'm so proud that my son is 18 and a fabulous man! Yup! He's all grown, aw shucks! I can truly say I have never known a child to man who has consistently loved and served God like him. He's an inspiration to me. He loves God with all his heart and hears Him in incredible ways. In all the ways I could measure success in raising a child - this would be it. Because He loves God, I have succeeded in passing on the greatly prized supernatural seed of faith.

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Today I was feeling a little grumpy. When I got out of bed, my body hurt so bad I wanted to cry. Yesterday Mist, I and another lady who I am considering naming "Skippy Jon Jenn" after my favorite book character "Skippy Jon Jones" ran over 3 miles with me and we walked at least 2. Then I swam the perimeter of our little near by lake with my friend Silverbell. On top of that I hiked in to the lake and out twice because our family went there later on. The kids wanted to play volleyball and I did a little of that with them that day too. As you may imagine, I was and still am a little bit stiff, sore and in need of somebody to ask me why on earth I tried doing all that in one day.



Towering mountains of smelly dishes awaited me this morning. It was my 18 year old's dishes day and I couldn't possibly leave them for him on his birthday. I was making lasagna (my 18 year old's favorite meal). Moonbeam was fussy and dirty. I had to stop to give her a bath in the sink before I could wash the evils lurking on the counter. The floor in there was full of crumbs and needed sweeping. Somebody brought up a dozen water bottles or more that needed washing and most likely needed to be soaked in a disinfecting vinegar solution. A mound of dirty dish rags reminded me I should get the next load of laundry going.
Despite my blaring praise and worship, I felt a bit annoyed and out of sorts. My husband was in the other room reading "Calvin and Hobbes" comics lauging gleefully, oblivious to it all. Don't get me wrong, my husband worked hard today. He just finished a great project that will make us a good income. Its just that at the time he wasn't busy and I was. He wandered into the kitchen to give me some helpful words of advice on my cooking and choice of clothing. Unfortunately, I didn't take it well at all. Some time around then, my daughter wandered into the kitchen "does my butt look big in these jeans?" she asked innocently. My husband and some of the kids had had a grand old time helping her put on an extra pair of jeans over the top of the ones she already had on. Then they stuffed a pillow into the er.... back side laughing hysterically.
This morning when I was praying, I was reminded to have a good attitude while serving my family. Unfortunately I do not always display it. As time went on, Art dog offered to put the lasagna together for me and did a great job. Super Cat man rinsed the bottles after they soaked. I took a leisurely nap while nursing Moonbeam. Then my husband came and got me to take me out on a 4-wheeler ride, just the two of us. The day really turned around fast.

Colossians 3:23 Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, 24since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.

trauma and drama at the local grocery mart

My life seems to be going by in a whirlwind. Perhaps this is because I am really enjoying the summer, my family and my friends. Couple this with not working a lot and you have a pretty good life minus money. I would never trade nursing my baby for a weekly t-bone. Nor would I trade home schooling my kids for a yearly vacation to some tropical place (though I have to fight a jealous bug every time my nurse friends go). I wouldn't trade a hike with my kids or a swim at the lake for a fancy boat or a nice car. Don't get me wrong, they're all things I desire, but my priority is my time. Life is fleeting. Kids grow fast. Being at home is a luxury that many people never know.
That said, I will debrief with you all now of the untold horrors of the local grocery mart. Had I known that I got out of bed on the wrong side, I would have gotten back in and started over. No little birdie was to warn me of the upcoming grief. If only I would have snuck off a little longer and prayed harder this morning, perhaps I may have avoided the agony.
The hour long ride to town was disturbing in the least. I forgot to eat lunch and I think my blood sugar was a little low. Cramps plagued me reminding me that my monthly "friend" was on her way for a visit. For some strange reason, I wondered if my husband may be getting his monthly cycle because he seemed a little irritable (or was it me?).
We had planned to start a new tradition driving the other way to town so we could bring left over’s to my husbands brother who is a hungry bachelor. Even though its a little further, there is a dairy outlet in that town and people get fresh milk there. The idea was to begin buying raw farm fresh milk and have the chance to sow a little time and food into my husbands brother. In theory, it was a great plan that would make us all a little healthier. In reality, I felt a little more emotionally taxed. The dairy seller was a nice older gentleman who all but kept us a gunpoint to get more conversation out of us. I do love people, but its so hard to get everything done on a once a week trip to town with a baby when you have to have multiple conversations with many friendly people.
After we barely escaped the milk man, we continued on into the next town. Wait! My bladder wouldn't permit it. Remember she is almost as demanding as Miss Belly Fat. So we stopped at a gas station and of course saw somebody else we knew who wanted to visit. On to the next town we drove.
At the next town, my husband dropped me off at the local consignment store with hopeful bags of clothing and two hungry little kids. Its a good thing that McDonalds is next to Porgies. I have had a love hate relationship with "Porgie" the man who runs it. He is very picky about what he takes. He literally won't let you bring anything into his store that's not on a hangar. He always eyes me suspiciously (or perhaps that's in my imagination). Despite my hour long drive in, he will only accept a golden 15 items per week. Under normal circumstances, I would poo poo his shop and shop at Wal-Mart, but Wal-Mart is 2 1/2 hours away and I haven't graced the doors in months. This is survival, after all, and I'm not working extra so I can spend money there. As I was saying, you must jump through many hoops, but in the end, you may rejoice to find you have a $10 credit on file! With that credit, I can find fun clothes. I can get a kid a pair of jeans. I have spending power!!! Just the thought of getting to go there makes the trip to town more fun, especially when the clothes budget is $0. At Porgies, I looked for shoes for my daughter. I was sad not to find any, but I amazingly saw a pair of ugly purple and black sandals in my husbands foot size. I eyed them greedily. When he was outside I reasoned with him (perhaps by reverse psychology) to come in and try them on. They looked like they had only been worn perhaps one summer long. "They're purple" my husband stated, trying to keep a stiff upper lip. "You've been saying you needed sandals for a long time" I reminded him coaxingly "and they're only $2.50". "Do you have any credit?" He asked hoping with all hope I didn't. "Nine bucks I proudly beamed". He poked and prodded them (as if examining a used car before one speaks to the seller). He gingerly tried them on. Cinderella couldn't have fit any better into her glass slipper. Reluctantly, he gingerly carried the purple and black shoes to Porgies counter. He's never bought anything purple to wear nor has he shopped a second hand store for footwear. Being home more stretches a person.
By the time I got to the grocery store, I was feeling exhausted. The baby and my 6 year old piled into the "car cart" and away we went. At almost every aisle, I saw somebody who I knew and many of them wanted to yaak. I smiled and nodded while Moonbeam fidgeted. Catman began driving the car cart into produce, meat products and whatever he could find to accidentally ram into. He even hit a pedestrian (me). Since I'm living on a budget, I tried valiantly to keep track of how much I was spending. Just as I'd have it figured out, somebody would break my concentration and begin a story about their garden, their grandchildren and subjects normally discussed in grocery store aisles. I was of course, happy to see them. I loved hearing their stories. I just couldn't focus well on how much money was in my cart. Couple two antsy children and the equation spells for disaster. By the time I was half way through the store I just started dumping items into the cart that were on the list or really good bargains. I knew better, but I figured I'd just add it all up at the end. When the end came, the baby was fussing. I looked for a semi private place to go through everything. Its just a little embarrassing to be counting up stuff and run into somebody. I hid somewhere around the condoms and anti diarrheal medicine. I figured most people didn't want to be seen there. I got out a cell phone calculator and tried adding it. The baby kept fussing. My husband called saying he was in the parking lot. I suggested he come in and help me add, but he mumbled some such drivel about guarding the new tires we had just purchased.
With a "hope for the best" "don't think about it" mentality, I strolled to the check out. Maybe I'd turn out to be within budget after all. Maybe there would be money left over. Nope. I was way over the limit. When I got to the truck, I considered making a big scene in front of the grocery girl in an attempt to plead insanity. Patiently, and maybe a little frustrated, my husband reexplained to me the need to stay within our budget. I tried hard to think of good excuses and ways to justify my over spending. How do you feed five kids and buy healthy foods and live on a budget? Between you and me, perhaps if my "monthly friend" wasn't on her way to visit it wouldn't seem so impossible. “Why’d you buy these ugly purple sandals?” one of the kids inquired as she put away groceries. “They’re for Dad” I replied. “They’re purple” the child replied. “Their mine” my husband responded. Then the house got real quiet…………..

under my nose

Its a good thing that I recently posted on "Being a True Friend" because I would find that I was in need of hearing my own message!!

If you are not a woman (or girl) you are reading this at your own risk. This posting is for females only! If you are easily offended, well its not for you either.


That said, I will tell you my version of our community pig roast. Every year about this time, Narley Gilson (I have named him this because he's a really cool guy) puts on a pig roast. Narley digs a big pit and cooks a pig. All the neighbors show up with a pot luck dish and play volleyball, horse shoes and congregate. In early years, I had missed this event. This was partly due to my phobia of people and partly because I worried that I wouldn't fit in well being a non partying type of gal. Later, I realized that both ideas were rubbish and joined in the fun. Unfortunately, my volley ball skills were not up to par. I made all kinds of embarrassing mistakes with the entire community as spectators. With each game, I thought maybe I'd shake the bad playing, but on the contrary, it worsened.
The first game I stepped on an older man's shoe while trying to get the ball. I almost ran into him. On the next game, I almost hit the ball, but accidentally missed and it hit me in the boob. Had I been flat chested, it wouldn't have been so bad. If you have ever read "Super Boob Woman To the Rescue", you will understand that while I am nursing, I am anatomically challenged. Eventually, it began to dawn on me that quite possibly I wasn't going to be improving my game that day. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, I missed the game point of the very last game. Oh the agony! I ask myself why I need to play at these events. Why not just watch? I have this energy that needs to be expended somehow. If only I could just channel it in a little more talented direction.
My friend Mist, however, played like a hurricane. She was voted "most talented player". She made such amazing shots that we all were shocked and awed by her incredible talent. Graciously she lied and said "you played good". I don't know how she kept a straight face, but hey, she loves me anyway. My husband loves me with a more brutal kind of love. He didn't comment, though I fished heavily. This was enough to know that he wasn't going to lie and he knew better than to say anything else.
A lot of things go on around me, unknowns to me. These things can happen right under my nose. These things include fast moving volley balls, and messes in random rooms of my house. The other day I was informed that our son, Catman, was picking his nose during prayer. I asked him why he was picking his nose while we were praying. He said "that's the only time that people don't yell at me to stop". Yes, even bugger picking goes on unknowns.
The pig roast was incredible fun. The man above in the blue apron is the legendary "Narley Gilson". The volley ball server is my friend "Silver Bell". Today I did the missions report in church. I feared people would point and whisper "bad player", but nobody did. They all smiled (possibly hiding their snickers). After that, we attended a birthday party barbecue. It was a very busy day. I went running tonight to debrief from it all. Perhaps its best that things are going on underneath my nose without my knowledge. After all, knowledge can be burdensome.

New Carpet Installation Pics

Working Mom Blues and the Case of the Soggy Nocturnal Reptillian

I should have known that since everything was going right for me at home, everything would go wrong for me other places. Since I can't blog about my life as a nurse due to confidentiality, I have decided to share with you the pre-cursor to a really bad night shift.
"I want you to take a nap before you work tonight" my husband informed me. Taking a nap before work for me is stressful. Why is taking a nap stressful? Because while I am laying there I am obsessing about what I need to get done before I have to leave. "Did I cook the family a good meal?" "Did I leave the laundry reasonably caught up?" "Did I pack my self some healthy meals and snacks?" "Did I inform my friends of any changes in plans due to this shift?" "Are there any choking or old food hazards on the floor that the baby will have access to?" On and on my mind goes until it spins up tighter than one of those balls at the end of a rope that you spin around a pole. You get the idea.
As I finally lay there, having got as much as I could possibly get done, I begged my mind to take a short mental vacation. Just as she was leaving for a tropical island, the phone rang. It was a telemarketer. "Don't give me the phone when its a telemarketer" I could hear my husband informing the kids. Next the phone rang and it was a bill collector. The third time I was about to sleep and the phone rang, I was beginning to get a clue that this may be a bad omen of things to come. Finally as I obediently dozed off to sleep, my 6 year old came into the room. "Mom I don't mean to disturb you, but how do I get this bleeding to stop?". Remember that I am an emergency room nurse and making a statement like that caused me to almost spring off the bed and begin CPR. In reality, it was a microscopic few drops of blood from a scrape and I advised him to wash with soap and water while rolling over in bed. By now, the baby wanted to start nursing again. I am always nervous about falling asleep with her in my bed because she is crawling around these days and I don't want her to fall.
That next morning, Moonbeam was again a challenge. Though tired, I am constantly thinking "don't sleep too hard" "Remember you have to stay awake and find somebody to take her when your done nursing". I put imaginary toothpicks in my eyelids. By early afternoon I was feeling quite stuffy. It was a beautiful day and I was stuck inside having to sleep. I got out of bed and threw open the windows. Then I laid there pouting "how come I have to stay in here?" my inner brat pouted. Finally, trying to appease her, I grabbed a blanket and my mother's famous orthopaedic pillow that is supposed to guarantee you happy dreams of fluffy sheep and headed out to the trampoline. The sun was out and I imagined I could bask in the sun possibly working on my tan. Just as I settled in like a happy reptilian, one of the kids brought Moonbeam out for a snack. Visions of my baby bouncing off the trampoline kept an eye open. After the children had taken her away and I was just about to catch some sunny zzzz's, the sun went behind a cloud. I got cold. Art dog brought me a blanket. My silky orthopaedic pillow had no traction on the trampoline and it slipped away from my head. Suddenly it started to rain. By now, I wanted to start bawling. I covered up my head with the blanket and ridiculously refused to acknowledge that I was being rained on. I began to wonder what time it was. Finally the sprinkle stopped and a drunken mosquito began to precariously drive inebriated circles around my head. It obviously couldn't handle drinking the fresh rain well because it was quite belligerent.
Just as I fell asleep, it was time to get ready for work. My bad day had only begun...................................

Being a True Friend

Hebrews 10:23-25 (New King James Version)
23 Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful. 24 And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works, 25 not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much the more as you see the Day approaching.

Today was an exciting day for me. It didn't have much to do with the house being a disaster because the contents of our living room are overspilling into the dining room due to the new carpet installation. Don't get me wrong - its thrilling to have a plushy carpeted living room in place of living years on particle board. It also wasn't because my boys caught a mess of fish yesterday on their trek into the wilderness and my 17 year old (soon to be 18 this month) finished cooking them for me (though I was pretty happy about that too). It wasn't because my daughter did a huge variety of chores (though I am appreciative), or because my son "Art Dog" washed towering loads of ornery dirty dishes with a good attitude (what mother wouldn't be proud?). No, this was a day I never imagined I'd see. One I dreamed about, but scarcely hoped to live out.
Today, I met my friend Mist, and we increased our running routine. We're covering almost 5 miles of terrain and running over 3 miles in 1 1/2 mile stints. A month or two ago I truly didn't believe I could run a straight mile. This was a landmark event worthy of celebration.
As we jogged along chit chatting about children and husbands and housework, Mist said something that shot like a bullet into my subconscious. It was such a profound statement, and I don't think she even realized how much it hit me. Possibly because I was already a little blue and oxygen deprived from huffing and puffing. She also may not have noticed because I think my legs were trying to argue with her "you think we're some spring chickens?" They cackled. She kept on running not hearing their snide remarks. As I was saying, she off handedly was telling me about how she had the temptation to be jealous of her friends at times. She told me that instead, she focuses on using those things she would normally feel jealous of to inspire her. In other words, she aspires to be like the women she may feel envy toward. She uses the jealous feelings in a healthy way to make herself a better person.
As we kept on running (and I was near collapsing), my legs kept on making these snide comments to hers "does the word "slave driver" mean anything to you?". I told them to stop being so rude. I worried she may hear their callous remarks, but she didn't seem to.
As I was saying, as we kept on running, we discussed how men can be very competitive. In the same way, they can use that God given competitiveness to be inspired to be the best they can be. Sadly, some use it to tear down each other.
We were really on to something now. She said that in her friendship with Elasta Woman, she felt secure. Elasta Woman doesn't require anything of her. They have worked through and continue to work through feelings of jealousy toward each other. Because of the ongoing prayer and energy they put forth toward this, they have an incredible friendship. I could be jealous of the kind of friendship they have (but instead I chose to feel inspired). Its the whole David and Jonathon type deal.
Our conclusion was that we have to choose to feel inspired by one another and we have to choose to resist and pray through unhealthy feelings of envy. Wow!
As we came to the end of our run, she began sprinting saying "I feel like I really got a work out today". My legs lagged a few feet behind hers booing and making cat calls. Horrified, I begged them to stop embarrassing me with their air of poor sportsmanship. They kept moving, though they refused to sprint "don't forget that blondies legs have ten years on us" they moaned. I promised them a hot shower when we got home if only they could keep their opinions to themselves.
Without Mist, I would never be doing what I am doing. I would still be at home afraid to run for fear of becoming a mountain lion happy meal.
On Sunday, I wore a size 10 skirt and for the first time didn't have to worry about concealing spare tires under an extra layer of blouse. I don't expect to ever fully keep up with Mist. To be honest, I would be disappointed if I ever did. She's a beautiful, blond 22 year old with an amazing physique. I'm a 36 year old brunette mother of 5. Mist has inspired me to be the best that I can be. Her friendship has so enriched my life.
Driving home, I realized that if there is any one good and true thing that I can do for my friends its to inspire them. I need to provoke them to be the best they can be for God. It is an art to exhort a person without cultivating jealousy or resentment. It is truly great friend who can rule competition without letting it rule them. I may not have it all figured out, but I am learning a little more daily that I want to be a true friend.

One Cute Little Dish to Wash

Here's One Cute Little Dish to Wash! Now about her dad.........

Some very exciting things have been happening in our neck of the woods! Every time my husband preaches, he gets in a really good mood. I think it has something to do with him going down in the basement with his Bible and being down there for hours. Possibly it's the absence of noisy children and a nagging wife, or possibly its a God kind of thing. Whatever the reason, he's been in a good mood for days now.
He's a gifted, multi-talented man. He can do just about anything. I tell people that he's kind of like the guy in "Catch Me if You Can". Don't get me wrong, he's not a counterfeit money con artist, just multi talented. When we learned to snowboard, he was taking black diamonds and doing jumps the first couple of days out. When he was in aviation school, he was at the top of his class and even learned to fly in a tail wheel aircraft. When he's needed jobs in years past, he's created them. Any interest he's had, he just started doing it and was naturally good. He's the kind of guy you don't want to try something new with (if your competitive) because you can just assume, he's going to be better.
Any way, we do all our own home improvement to keep costs down. Of course my husband can do anything and so he bought carpet for our living room. He's been dreading putting it in for over a month now. We bought it and it just sat down in the basement for what seemed like eons. I had given up the idea of ever seeing it unrolled. Today was the big day! He put it in! Very Exciting. Photos will be sure to follow.
Yesterday, we went for a bike ride. He was in a really good mood. He rode circles around me (literally). I think he might have been showing off a little but don't tell him I told you that. He was always good at trick riding in high school.
For years I've been wanting to participate in a long distance swim. We haven't seen eye to eye on it in years gone by. Yesterday, he looked on the Internet with me and actually drove my registration to the mailbox for me so it would make the deadline!
I don't know what I'm going to do now that my husband is in such a great frame of mind. Not that he's normally a grumpy person or anything. He's just been doing these amazing things that I hoped about and waited for for a long time. I don't know what to do with myself with so many good things going on. I usually thrive in adversity and there's not much to be found these days. I have nothing to pout about. Nothing to be mad about. Nothing to be frustrated over. Can I be happy without having something to be trying not to be upset about?