Sunday, July 27, 2014

peace or something like it

Post #4 of the Octennial Blog Celebration -
Share this post on your blog or facebook for a chance to win a tired supergirl book.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

peace or something like it

I have always thought of peace as a feeling.
Like an overwhelming wave of softness that settles on your soul.
Or a heavy calm, a contentedness that sits in your mind.
But most days, with 3 little boys, 1 big one, a church plant,
school activities, bills, mildew on the shower curtain and
a small gathering of ants camping out near the foot of the tub,
I find myself screeching, "Can't I get a little bit of peace in here?"
Sometimes I think I should be able to find peace in my bathroom
if I just lock the door. Or by reading a book under a throw on the couch.
Or by driving far away by myself with a tall cafe misto from Starbucks.
But that is more like an escape.
So maybe peace isn't a feeling. Maybe it is an action.
Choosing to go with what God is sending my way without resistance. Peace.
Accepting the chaos and the joy of a full household with a resounding, "Yes!"
instead of trying to retreat. Peace.
Revelling in the moment instead of worrying about the future. Peace.
Looking the things that scare me the most in the eye and moving forward. Peace.
Maybe peace is forgetting about my limitations and focusing on God's abilities.
Or maybe peace is about the passing of fear.
The knowledge that circumstances are not changing but the way I view God and his place in my life is.
I'm not sure how this next year is going to turn out. But God knows. Peace.
I gained 5 lbs eating scones at Christmas. But God loves me anyway. Peace.
I don't understand how life works. But God does. Peace.
I'm not exactly sure how peace moves or how it found its way into my soul.
But I felt a small surge of it this morning.
And I'm going with it.

Saturday, July 26, 2014

bangs shame is complete

Post # 3 of the Octennial Blog Celebration -
share this on your blog or Facebook for a chance to win a Tired Supergirl book!

Friday, March 14, 2008

bangs unveiled

Due to technical difficulties with our beyond slow computer
I have been unable to release the bang picture until this time.
Brace yourselves, tsgs.
I thought I would like to take you through the day of bang
heinousness along with some other fashion atrocities.
Friday afternoon
#1 glanced at my bangs in the mirror
#2 was ashamed by the limpness and longness of my bangs
#3 grabbed scissors and cut my bangs just a tad crooked but let it go
#4 got a free moment when Scott came home to run to the store
#5 shoved my tennies on and shot out to the grocery sans kids
#6 noticed the bag boy smiling curiously at me
#7 noticed that I was wearing these shoes

(I swear they looked the same from the back
when I grabbed them from my closet)
#8 got home and told Scott to snap a picture of my shoes
#9 and of my bangs while he was at it
#10 Scott curled into fetal position for the shame of my bangs
#11 Scott showed me the picture of my bangs

(pick yourself up off of the floor so you can finish the post)
#12 I joined him in fetal position
#13 blogged about my bangs
#14 re-trimmed my bangs...straighter but now even shorter
Sunday morning getting ready for church
#1 Noticed that very short bang trim unearthed my unkempt eyebrows
(if you revisit the bang picture you can see the direness of the
eyebrow situation)
#2 searched high and low for tweezers to no avail
#3 feel sure that tweezers have found themselves hijacked by boys
as a tool of vengeance and are lost in amongst the legos
#4 told Scott we needed to buy tweezers on the way to church
#5 Scott agreed but could not look at me for the shame of my eyebrows
#6 running late....what's new
#7 told Scott to forget tweezers we could get them later
#8 Scott looked scared and insisted we had time to get tweezers
#9 told Scott we would get to church late
#10 Scott, church planter, pastor is willing to be late to church
because of the shame of my eyebrows
Scott said that since I have chosen to put this hideous picture on
the web, no one will buy my book.
But I believe you can't judge a tired supergirl's book by her bangs....
or her eyebrows...
or her shoes.....
Please buy my book anyway. Or just donate money to the
"Tired Supergirl Makeover Fund."
Clearly we need more than a beauty week, tsgs.
Maybe we need an entire year at a spa to right the wrong
of this past weekend and to heal my marriage.
Keep the prayers coming.

Friday, July 25, 2014

the sad story of my bangs

Post #2 of the Octennial Blog Celebration....
Share this post on your blog or FB for a chance to win a Tired Supergirl Book!

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Sometimes people don't have time or money to get their hair cut.
So they take matters into their own hands.
Their hair dresser, who is a dear friend, knows these people sometimes
cut their own bangs and specifically told them how to cut their bangs.
But sometimes even specific instructions go horribly awry
and people end up looking like this....

like Jim Carrey in Dumb and Dumber.
Or maybe a little bit like this....

Like Frankenstein because some people really do have high foreheads.
Or like this....

Like Mary Alice from Ace of Cakes on the Food Network...
Now mind you, this is not to say Mary Alice does not look sassy
with her short little punk rock bangs. Mary Alice has it going on.
But I do not like punk rock.
And I don't have any studded bracelets to go with my short bangs,
which by the way started out crooked,hence, I had to go shorter.
And then Scott begged me, tsgs, please do not put your picture
up on the world wide web for all of the 20 people
who read your blog to know your shame.
And he said this looking at the ground since he can no longer
look at my face for the shame of my very high bangs.
And then he had the absolute nerve to say they were still a bit
crooked and that maybe I wanted to try and have another go at them
as if I could possibly cut my bangs any shorter.
To which I shrieked, "I'm not going higher! They can stay crooked!"
And that is the sad story of my bangs.
But I did discover if I raise my eyebrows very high
my bangs look longer.
And for someone in my condition that is good to know.
I think I may try and hide my bangs
behind some large glittery barrettes.
And I know that really you would just like me
to post a picture of my hideously high bangs
but I'm trying to save my marriage, girls, I really am.
Who would have known a marriage built on love and trust
could be wiped out so easily by hideous bangs?
In the immortal words of my mother-in-law,
Pray heavy, girls, pray heavy.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014


When I started blogging 800 posts ago, I had no idea I would still be writing it 7 years later.
I don't think, excepting my marriage, I have ever stuck with anything that long.
I'm great at starting things...finishing? Eh.
But this blog has been different.
In some ways it has kept me on the path of writing,
it has kept me connected to people i love
and other moms and people who just like to laugh at me,
it has chronicled my journey of realizing my dream of being a writer,
my successes and epic fails of motherhood and marriage,
my desires to follow Jesus with my whole life,
my joy and my grief, my growth as a writer and
my sad inability to keep my children from looking like street urchins.
And you have been a part of that journey.
The best part.
With your encouraging words and laughter and shared tears.
And for that I am eternally grateful.
As an octennial celebration,
For the next 8 days, I will be posting your favorite posts and mine,
and giving away 8 free books every day...because free is my favorite.
Share this post on your blog or on FB for a chance to win your choice of one my 3 books.
As a thank you. Because you are the best!
So here we go:

April 17, 2007

supergirl underwear says it all

A couple of years ago, my friend, Melissa, gave me a pair of supergirl underwear as a gag gift...
she thought it was funny....
I, on the other hand, will never turn down a good pair of panties. Who doesn't love new underwear? So I wore them.
One morning I was changing and Jack, who was 4 at the time, walked in on me.
He looked at me for a second and said,
"Mom, your secret identity has been revealed!"
Jack knew. He knew that I would love to be supergirl.
To be more than...
To be unique...
To be excellent in some way....
Able to leap tall laundry in a single bound....
Able to wipe out the forces of evil and keep my house clean...
Able to become the person God created me to be compared to the person I actually am....
Having the guts to chase down my dreams and pursue my destiny 
while looking hot in a red, white and blue unitard ....
By the way, who looks good in a unitard anyway? Especially, paired with boots...
someone has NOT been watching "what not to wear"
but I digress....
so I am a tired supergirl, not quite there yet but believing someday with God's hand on me,
with the love and encouragement of my fellow supergirls and some good chocolate...
I will get there.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

12 reasons that you know you are a mother of boys

1. You have to ask them to take insects outside. Because they don't belong in the living room
or crawling across your bedspread or lounging in your favorite coffee cup on the kitchen table.
2. You can smell their bedroom before you are actually in it.
3. You have to remind them that their toothbrush actually has to touch their teeth for it to count as
"brushing your teeth."
4. You have witnessed a death defying feat of your child jumping off a high object before breakfast.
5. You have heard the words booger, fart, gas, poop, pee and/or burp
incorporated in conversation at the table and think this is normal.
6. You have to set the cat (or dog) free from their evil clutches...several times a day.
7. You want to stick air fresheners up your nose and leave them there for the next 10 years.
8. You wonder if 10 years is long enough to leave your customized nose air fresheners in.
9. You don't know what is on your children's clothes when you put them in the laundry
and you want to keep it that way.
10. You hear laughter coming from behind a closed door and you get nervous.
11. You find that even though you are often tired, worn through, edgy and a little delirious,
that their wet kisses, chubby armed hugs and their whispered words of "I love you, Mom"
make you feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
12. You are a card carrying member of the M.O.B. (Mother of Boys) club and
you wouldn't have it any other way.

Thursday, July 3, 2014

the children are hungry

I currently have an 13 year old boy, an 11 year old boy and an 8 year old boy living in my house.
After having just faced down an salmonella epidemic for the past month,
it seems to have triggered a house wide eating craze.
Meals have become moot. They are eating. A. Lot. All. Day. Long.
The cupboards are bare. Even though I spent $100 on groceries yesterday.
The thirteen year old is inhaling food like it is air. As if it has no effect on him whatsoever.
In the past month he has grown an inch and leap-frogged a whole shoe size.
Yesterday morning, the 11 year old was coming towards me down the hall and
he looked taller.
Taller than he did the day before. Which seemed strange.
We had just measured their heights a week ago but I made him step up to the wall again.
He had grown 3/4 of an inch in 9 days.
9 days.
The 8 year old is taking them all down.
He is about 3 inches taller than the other two were at his age.
Scott had told me yesterday, "You have been spending a lot of money."
I have only been home from Colorado for a week.
I couldn't recall spending a lot of money on anything fun.
We looked over the purchases I had made.
One trip to Home Depot for flowers. 15 trips to the store for food.
Is is possible to eat a flat of nectarines in a day? Yes. Yes, it is.
A box of cereal in one sitting? Yes. A bag of rice crackers in 10 minutes? Again, yes.
I am thinking of plowing up the lawn in the backyard and putting in corn.
For the coming winter. Maybe wheat and oats in the front yard. We need filler.
Last night at dinner, they tried to start eating the food before it made it on the table.
As I was walking toward the table with a bowl of teriyaki meatballs,
the 13 year old tried to intercept me with a fork.
I spoke harshly and pointedly,
"If you touch that meatball, you lose video games for a week."
The 11 year old swooped in with his fork as soon as the bowl hit the table."
"Back away from the meatballs! What is wrong with you?
Everyone has to sit down at the table. Then we will pray. Then we will eat."
I explained this as if we have not been doing this same routine for the entirety of his life.
At that point, Scott took over saying, "I will serve the food."
Not because he was being kind. He just wanted to be sure that he got some meatballs.
It seems if Scott and I want any dinner, we are going to have to fight for it.
It is all making sense now why I found candy bar wrappers in my mom's purse when I
was a child.
The poor woman was starving.
I have started hoarding protein bars. I get angry when the children eat them.
I caught the 8 year old eating one yesterday.
"Those are for Mom. You don't even like them. Remember? You said you don't like them."
He shrugged. "I'm hungry."
It's like a plague of locusts have moved into my house.
They will eat their way through whatever they find.
My parents have some friends who sell organic beef and bison.
I'm thinking our next step is to buy a whole buffalo.
Today is Thursday....maybe it will last until Monday.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

just call me typhoid Mary

Life is crazy. Wild. Unpredictable. And surprising.
I have gone through these last four weeks with a perpetual look of incredulity
on my face.
Eyes wide. Mouth slightly agape. Slightly stunned.
Somehow my oldest son, Jack, became exposed to a virulent strain of salmonella bacteria at
the end of May.
It sent him to the ER for IV fluids from the resulting stomach upset and high fever.
The kind of stomach upset where you are not sure you will make it to the bathroom in time.
The sad kind.
It lasted for a week.
We thought we kicked it. Until 2 weeks later Addison got it.
Right after we landed in Colorado for our summer vacation.
Addie spent the first week of vacation on the couch sipping Gatorade
and lamenting the fact that only Will got to play with the cousins.
There were tears. A lot of them were mine.
The day before we were supposed to fly back to California, Will got it.
The onset was swift and violent.
I broke down and wept in front of my parents. And they prayed strength and peace over me.
Their love buoyed me up. I wiped my eyes and went to don my latex cleaning gloves
and to get out the ibuprofen one more time.
Scott, Jack and Addie flew home.
And Will and I stayed for another 5 days. Until his fever died down and his stomach settled.
These two weeks of vacation were spent in a haze of Clorox wipes and Lysol cans and my
frantic pleas of "Don't touch anything!" And "Don't get too close to Grandma!" and
"Sweet Jesus, help us!"
I have read more books in this past two weeks that I have in the past two years.
So, there is an upside to being quarantined, I guess.
I have also prayed more in the last two weeks than I have in a long time.
And I have invited others to join me.
I texted my sisters the night before I flew,
"Please pray that I don't get it while we are flying and have a blow out on the plane."
Now most of you have not ever thought of praying to not have a blowout or if you have,
you have never thought to include others in that prayer.
But then maybe you have never come into contact with my dark enemy, salmonellosis.
Those of you who have caught a parasite over seas or
who have drank the water on mission to Mexico trip know what I am talking about.
You need a formidable prayer covering when you are up against a microbe like this.
A strong hedge of antibacterial prayer to hem you in from all sides.
We made it home without event. Praise the glorious name of Jesus!
And so far, I have been able to hold out against the raging sickness.
I believe this is only by the hand of God. And the fact that I have washed my hands
so many times that I no longer have an epidermis.
There is that.
So all that to say. Summer has gotten off to somewhat of a crazy start.
I have had to cancel the kid's writing camp I was going to do in July along
with several appointments. We are still on lock down with Will so as not to
spread this madness to anyone else.
But I am thankful.
I am home. My boys survived a very serious illness.
We are all together as a family again.
The hydrangeas in my backyard are blooming better than they ever have before.
With the daily wipe downs, my house is going to be cleaner than it has ever been. Ever.
And my prayer is booming. I have been talking to Jesus all day long for almost a month now.
He is keeping us in his hand. This I know to be true.
When I texted my mom to tell her that we were home safe, she answered,
"God is good!" And that is the truth.
I know Jesus is going to get us through. He always does.
My dad told me when we left, "Better days are ahead!"
And I am banking on it.
That and on the fact that Lysol  kills 99.9% of bacteria that it comes in contact with.
So that being said, we come!