bed and giant breakfast....in Maine

I have the faint inkling that most of my antique chronicles
could quite possibly just be a listing of all the different foods that
we partook of on our trip. Because the food? It was a-plenty.
When I eat breakfast at home, I have oatmeal with fresh fruit.
And of course, coffee.
But we were staying at The Waldo Emerson Inn in Kennebunk, Maine.

It is the oldest house in Kennebunk built in 1753.
And Ralph Waldo Emerson's uncle, Waldo,
was one in a long line of presitigious owners of this house.
His nephew, Ralph, even stayed there.
I prayed that some of Ralph's writing annointing would seep into me as I slept.
He was a pretty good writer after all.
But back to the food....
Our breakfasts in Maine were lavish three course meals.
I am not kidding. I was a little scared but mostly overjoyed about
the ginormous breakfasts.
Because first, like I said, my breakfast is usually consisting
of a grain that is fed to horses.
But sometimes, people, there is a sincere need for bacon
and let us just say that on this trip that need was satisfied.
Along with the sausage need and the piping hot coffee need and the
fresh Maine blueberry need.
A need that I was not even aware that I had.
Each morning we had a platter of fresh fruit, followed by homemade
granola which was fantastic. Hello, lovely granola.
And then on three consecutive mornings we had french toast
(which basically was a caramelized cinnamon roll drenched in real
maple syrup....from Maine)and bacon, 3 egg omelets with banana nut bread and
sausage, and lastly a trio of pancake joy: a dutch apple pancake,
a chocolate filled crepe and a fresh blueberry pancake also accompanied by sausage.
Now I have to be honest, I only had one bite of the french toast.
Because I was so full of granola. Because I didn't realize that having
three meals for breakfast was an option. But it is. In Maine.
After the second day of breakfast my body decided I needed to stop
eating so much breakfast. I know this because I could not fit
my stomach into my pants. You know it is not good when you are full
before you get out of bed to go down to breakfast.
So I had to limit myself.
Because I only brought 2 pair of pants with me.
And I needed to fit into my pants.
Since they don't let you go antiquing in Maine without pants.
But my sister-in-law, Traci, who is slim like a willow, looked
forward with unabated joy to the large breakfasts.
I'm not sure where her breakfasts went because her stomach looked
great the entire trip.
Me? I could have purchased some maternity clothes by the time I left.
But the thing that we all thoroughly enjoyed about the breakfasts
besides the mouth watering tastes and local ingredients,
was the part that we didn't cook it. We woke up.
We went down to the table.
And the breakfast was magically placed before us.
Our coffee cups were filled and we didn't have to do dishes.
I know that I sound all braggy so let me go ahead and tell
you what happened yesterday morning.
Yesterday morning I woke up and there was no breakfast.
I wanted to wake up Scott and say,"Granola, please."
Unfortunately, at the Aughtmon Inn, I am the breakfast maker.
And that made me feel a little forlorn. Yep, it did.
Did I mention that I really liked Maine?
I miss you, Maine. You and your magic breakfasts.

feeling 5

Today Will is five.
He woke up at the crack of dawn to open presents.
Star Wars and Veggie Tales playsets. You can't get much better than that.
At breakfast, he took his place in a grown up chair instead of the kid chair
that he has used since he was two.
And he okayed his birthday snack for school:
nutrigrain apple bars and orange slices.
"Cool, Mom," he said.
He donned his new t-shirt that read "Rock Legend".
If any of you have ever seen him play air guitar, you understand the shirt.
But after all this birthday pomp, he looked at me with a very quizzical look
on his face and said,
"Mom, I don't feel 5."
"You don't?"
"Nope. I feel 4."
So when I picked him up from preschool, I checked in with him.
"Are you feeling 5 yet?"
Nope, not yet.
Until just a few moments ago when I asked him again if the five-ish-ness
was gradually overtaking the four-ish-ness.
And to my surprise it was.
Will answered in the affirmative. He feels 5.
"You feel 5?"
"Yep."
"How come?"
"Because...I just feel it."
From the looks of Will, with the new swagger and all,
5 is feeling pretty good.

chronicles of an antiquing trip

Sometimes a journey is such a once in a life time event that it must
be chronicled. Like Narnia.
And while I wasn't swept away into another dimension by a portal
through a wardrobe or a pond with magic rings,
my last six days with my mom and sisters have been other wordly.
(Dad ending up peacing out back to DC - he and mom are getting ready
to move in a week and there was much to be done.)
We visited a land where breakfast was set before us without
our preparing it and on a every corner stood a fast friend,
Dunkin Donuts, which beckoned us to come inside and drink
of its hazelnut iced coffee with skim milk goodness or earl gray tea or
blueberry coffee or whatever took our fancy, sometimes twice a day.
Hello, lovely Dunkin Donuts.
We were taken to a land where shopping and spending at any given
moment was expected of me. Mom provided a treasure fund.
We cheered each other on with,
"Oh, that is such a good deal!" or "It would go perfect in your living room!"
Spending without repurcussions...unimagineable.
In this land, we did things that baffle the mind,
like lounging on beds and staying up late into the night finishing good books
and taking a late night walk on the beach and talking with other
people without interruption. This land has a name.
It is called Maine. Hello, lovely Maine.
But I have to begin at the beginning. Because I get ahead of myself.
Erica, Jenny and I flew out on Friday mornings splitting the sky
in our United Jet, swathed in reading material for the trip.
We were hunkered down with snacks and laughter and made the 5 hour flight
into Boston. One thing must be said about the flying.
Erica and I do not take to the flying. Jenny is so so on it.
We used to be fine with the flying. I landed on a runway in Albania
with livestock on it once. I'm not sure when the fear began to set in
but I've noticed it has a tendency to build. Stupid fear.
There is something about catapulting through the air in a metal tube
high above the clouds that makes the stomach feel a little wonky.
Add to that some turbulence.
And Erica and I tend to retreat into the dark corners of the mind,
clenching the arm rests, taking deep cleansing breaths and whispering
fervent prayers to God for mercy and stable air
because the bouncing and shifting and dropping at 30,000 feet? Not so much.
We both know we are in the palm of God's hand.
We just wish he would choose to keep the palm a bit more steady.
I have been known to call out to Jesus outloud in turbulence.
But nothing was keeping us from this trip, turbulence or no turbulence.
Sometimes you have to barrel through your fears and the upside is
you feel very close to Jesus after hours of bouncy prayer. You really do.
We landed in Boston and met up with our sister-in-law, Traci at our gate.
She said she could hear us coming before she saw us.
There was excitement in the air, people. Mom and Dad picked us up curbside.
And the adventure began. Oh the adventures.
Just wait until you hear about the ice cream.
Hello, lovely ice cream.

6 days of nonstop goodness right around the corner

Tomorrow morning I am flying out with my sisters, Erica and Jenny.
We are flying to Boston where we will meet my mom,
my dad and my sister-in-law, Traci.
We are headed for a 6 days of joy. 6 days of antiquing, shopping, staying
at bed and breakfasts, reading magazines and sleeping in.
Actually, 2 of the days are flying days so there will be a bit of bad airplane food and leg cramping due to the eensy bit of leg room they allow you on the plane.
But other than that, it is 6 days of fun, frolic and dinner at restaurants.
That last one is enough to send me right over the top.
No cooking for 6 days. I actually enjoy cooking.
But the thought of leisurely pouring over a menu, sipping on an ice tea
and getting to chat through out dinner without any interruptions,
is a little slice of heaven.
Mom is not messing around. She takes her antiques seriously.
She had Dad put a trailer hitch on the back of their SUV.
Because we could be finding some treasures, people.
And we may need that trailer to haul our treasures around in.
Dad is going to drive us. I can guarantee you he will be bringing some
books to read in car as we loiter about in the stores
"ooh-ing" and "ah-ing" over depression glass and
large pieces of distressed pine furniture.
This is a once in a life time kind of trip.
And we are going to enjoy every minute of it and then some.
Hence, the tired supergirl will be flying the coop and not blogging
for a few days.
But I'll be thinking of you as I nibble on tiramisu in The North End,
Boston's Little Italy, for sure.
Really, I will.
Meet you back here in 6 days.
Ciao!

my friend marty - UPDATED

Every once in a while you happen upon a friend that fits you just right.
You fall in step and laugh at the same things and moan about the
same things and generally enjoy each other's company.
This is one of the great things in life. Friendship.
My most vivid memory of my friend, Shane, is when we roped him into
being a Pointer Sister at one of our college lip sync contests.
He does a mean Pointer sister impersonation and looks good in sparkles.
But he got married after college and it wasn't until the last few years
that I have gotten to know his wife, Marty.
And she is a keeper.
We both are married to pastors. (She gets all the ins and outs of pastoral life.)
We both have three kids right around the same age. (She gets my craziness.)
We both like to be organized. (Which somehow how she seems to accomplish
while I wallow in laundry chaos but I'm not jealous or anything)
We both like a good cup of coffee. (A true bosom friend.)
But this last year has been amazingly crazy and heart wrenching for
these friends.
Within the last 8 months Shane has lost both his parents to cancer.
Which is way too much to bear as far as I am concerned
And then, a month or so ago Marty found out she has a benign brain tumor.
It was affecting her hearing and balance.
This has launched them into a journey of having to believe in Jesus
more than ever before.
Last night, they had to say good-bye to their three sweet kiddos
and fly down to San Diego.
This morning at 11:00, Marty goes in for surgery to remove the tumor.
It will cause deafness in one ear but they are hoping to save the nerves
in her face so that she doesn't have facial paralysis.
Marty has a fantastic smile. She needs to keep her smile.
You don't know Shane and Marty.
But most of you have little kids and can imagine what it would be like
to kiss your little guys and then head out the door towards a surgery
that is scary and a recovery that could be long.
So I covet your prayers on their behalf.
Because the things we don't understand, Jesus does.
And while our abilities are limited, his are limitless.
And its always good to hold another tired supergirl up in prayer.
So if you have a quiet moment, pray for Marty. And her smile.

This is the update that I received from friends on behalf of Shane this morning:
"She's out. 8 and a half hours later. They said it went well and that we totally
made the right decision. They checked her facial nerves and were optimistic
about the stimulation. I have about an hour and a half before I can see her.
Thank you all for your prayers."

Thanks, tsgs, for all of your prayers. Keep them coming!:)

monday monday

Today my alarm failed to go off.
I awoke to Jack standing over me saying,
"Mom, that lady that you walk with is at the front door."
Truly this was going to be one of THOSE Monday mornings.
I always have great hopes for Monday but they don't often achieve
the dewiness of a newly minted week day that I hope for.
For some reason Mondays are often sub par.
I really want to like Mondays. Really, I do.
I would like the fresh start and the "go-get-um" attitude that goes along with it.
But somehow I always feel like I'm launched from a very full Sunday
into the hectic week's routine with little preparation and a minimum of grace.
Clearly, when I answered the door in my pajamas
things were not going to be smooth sailing.
My neighbor that I walk with was very understanding. I felt a little unsettled.
One tends to feel that way when they greet a friend at the door in
striped boxer shorts.
There was the normal rush rush of getting the boys ready for school
and throwing their lunches at them as they ran out the door.
And the Monday inertia that set in as I looked at the 4 gagillion
pieces of laundry camping out in the hallway.
The pulling of tiny death trap Monopoly playing pieces from Addison's mouth.
And the horror of hearing Will chant, "Booty nuggets! Booty nuggets!"
in the middle of Wendy's when I told him he had to finish his nuggets
if he wanted a bite of the communal frosty.
Scott almost choked on his hamburger and I was forced to voice the words,
"Will, we do not say "booty nuggets." These are words I should not have to say.
But then again, it is Monday.
Thank goodness Tuesday is just a day away.

more happy

I am always thankful that God equipped us with a funny bone.
When life is difficult or boring or sad or irritating it is
always a good thing to let out a hearty guffaw.
I have never actually heard anyone "guffaw" but I would like to.
It is one of the greatest pleasures in life to laugh until
the tears come out of your eyes or for those of us who have birthed
a lot of people, you have to run to the nearest facilities.
Sometimes you just need to laugh. Hard.
Because it frees the soul and maybe it burns some calories
I'm not sure. But I always feel more alive, more relaxed,
and more happy when I am laughing.
I know that "more happy" is not correct english.
But I was on a roll with the "more-s" in my sentence.
Hence, more happy.
And this video by our good friend, singer/songwriter, Dave Barnes,
makes me more happy.

For goodness sakes, he is funny. I can't rip my eyes away from
his "Naughty by Nature" muscle half-shirt hoodie...it is wrong on so many levels.
I found his workout video on the blog of our good friend, BooMama, who tends to make me more happy as well. She's full of funny, too.
And don't tell anyone but Kung Fu Panda is coming out soon.
It's a kids movie. Jack Black voices the Panda.
And I'm excited to see it. Not for the kids. Just for myself.
Because I like to be more happy.
I hope your weekend is more happy than ever.

prayer

Scott had a meeting the other night and was gone for dinner.
Sometimes we have cereal for dinner when Scott isn't home.
Not that I don't want the boys to have a healthy dinner but
I tend to go with "fast and easy" when I know I am on dinner duty,
bath duty and bedtime duty by myself.
The boys were sitting at the table getting ready to eat their sandwiches
and I was standing at the counter making myself a salad.
The boys said grace and then I said,"We need to remember tonight to
pray for the people in China."
The earthquake had been on my mind all day.
And just on the heels of the cyclone in Myanmar. So much suffering.
Sometimes it is too much to take in and you need extra prayer over
your sandwiches at dinner. Because there are a whole lot of people
not having dinner in China and Jesus cares about that.
"Why, Mom?"
And this is the part that is always difficult for me...
I don't want to scare my kids but at the same time I want them to know
that there are people that we can pray for, who our hearts can be broken
for and who need us to stand with them even though we are so far away.
We would want the prayers of others if we were standingin their shoes.
"There was a bad earthquake there. A lot of people are hurt. It killed people.
And some people have gotten separated from their families and we need to pray
that God helps them be rescued and find each other."
"I'm glad my friend, Ri, wasn't there." Jack's 1st grade friend hails from China.
"Me, too."
Will was very quiet. And then he looked at me with a really puzzled look
on his face and said,
"But Mom, can't we pray that God will stop the earthquake?"
"It's already happened, Will. Now we just need to pray for the people
who were in it."
"But Mom, wasn't Jesus in heaven? Did he go for a walk or something?"
And I have to say that Will just broke me right down over my salad.
Because I had been thinking similar thoughts even though I am 37 to Will's 4.
Where is God in all this? How is this happening on his watch?
And then I had the thought...
Maybe he is stopping catastophic events on a daily basis.
Maybe he is stepping in, in circumstances I have no idea about.
Maybe he is healing and comforting and rescuing people
in ways that I can not begin to imagine.
Maybe he is prompting people to prayer across nations and seas and
mountains and around dinner tables for their brothers and sisters
who are hurting.
It is no small thing to lift up the names of those you do not know.
God has not gone for a walk. He is doubled over. Leaning down.
Listening for us to call out on behalf of those who need it most.
Even while we are eating sandwiches.

happy endings

Life seems to be made up of in and outs.
Sometimes it is spectacular and sometimes quite un-spectacular.
I think one of reasons I enjoy reading fiction so much...
or should I say, reading the type of fiction that I read...
is that it very frequently all dove tails nicely into place.
The good guy wins. The heroine gets kissed.
The orphan gets adopted by the rich family with the older brother
she always longed for.
You know, the fantastic ending. The concurrence of all the fates falling
happily into place by page 267.
I think I lean so heavily toward this type of fiction because
somedays I would like to re-write my life.
I need a bit more dove tailing.
Like on Monday when I was walking with my friend Melissa
and a bird pooped on my face. That's not a happy ending. Nosiree.
Re-write please.
Or when Addison stomped on my flowers that I had just planted...
JUST PLANTED...sending them to flower heaven...
Re-write.
Or when Scott asked me if he could put something in the blender
for a sermon illustration on Sunday...that should never go in a blender...
even if it is to illustrate how Jesus is pure like water and the things
we add to him are not pure...even then. Cuz you just don't put terrible
things in the blender. Nope. Cuz we eat things out of the blender.
Re-write.
But then there are the moments,
like when Jack woke me on Sunday morning with a serving bowl filled
with Life cereal and a plate with yogurt and cinnamon toast and
strawberries and said,
"It's time for your BIB, Mom. Breakfast in bed. Happy Mother's Day."
Or when Scott whisked me away for the night to San Francisco
to see the Giants game and to eat hot dogs and drink a six dollar coke
and stay in a hotel in Union Square.
Or seeing Will's face when I picked him up from preschool
and even though I had only been away one measley night,
he hugged me like he hadn't seen me for a year and a half.
Just leave it the way it is. Don't touch a word of it.
And let me soak it right up.
Because, you know, you have to sit back and enjoy it
when you get the happy ending.

just like me

Today was quite the day for mothering.
We were out in the back yard. I was trying to garden.
I say trying because the children were trying to kill the plants that I planted.
With water. With stomping. With jumping.
Four small seedlings that were lovingly placed in soil yesterday
were pulled up and left for dead in a wilted heap.
I asked Addison, "What in the world? Did you do this?"
He looked at me and nodded with a firm,"Yeth."
For goodness sakes.
I believe a few worms also lost their lives today.
I repeatedly said,"Worms cannot survive in branches.
Get them out of the trees." And all too late, it seems.
All I'm saying is that I would like to have a few flowers in the yard.
Is that too much to ask? Apparently, it is.
As I was finishing up with the planting,
Will took the clippers and proceeded to prune the japanese maple,
a maple that had no need of pruning and I was through, people. I had enough.
"Will, you do not need to prune that."
He ran and perched like a small king on the play castle, telling me,
"You are not the boss."
"Oh, Yes. I am the boss," I insisted.
"No, you're not."
The boss sent Will to his room.
This event was preceeded by a random act of eye-rolling by Jack
as I told him to take his backpack inside the house.
"Did you just roll your eyes at me?"
Another eye roll.
"Oh no, you did not just roll your eyes at me AGAIN because
you will definitely be losing some computer time IF you are rolling your eyes!"
To which he protested, of course, he hadn't rolled his eyes.
His eyes had accidentally rolled upward into his head without his consent.
I believe I have always been the eye roller not the eye roll-ee.
The giver of the "You are are so incredibly ridiculous my eyes
are rolling straight up toward the heavens" look - not the receiver.
And than I had the inkling of a flashback....
I remember sticking out my tongue at my mom when I thought
she couldn't see me and finding out who was the boss.
I believe I also once ruined the new lawn my parents put in
by introducing a family of grubs to it. They seemed so hungry.
And I seem to remember killing a few worms in my time.
Who knew they weren't stretchy? They looked stretchy.
I loved critters when I was little.
It seems plant devastation, complete defiance and eye rolling
are in my gene pool.
And how appropos that these things are all coming back to haunt me
through my own children on Mother's Day weekend.
It seems my own sweet and oh so very patient mother's prayers are coming true.
I have a whole passel of children just like me.

beauty pep talk #1

I had a revelation while washing my face tonight.
I am having fantastic success in the realm of beauty.
Because my beauty products have the best intentions for me.
They really do.
Here are a few things that my beauty investments are doing for me.
Clearly, I am defying my age since it says so right on the front of
my facial cleanser, Olay Age Defying Daily Renewal. 37...I defy you.
I now declare myself renewed and 36 and 3/7 years of age.
Clearly, my body is becoming more firm even as I sit here typing since
I slathered on Booths Apricot Oil Firming Body Lotion.
It says on the label it has cellulite busting caffeine and intensive emollients.
It's like the skin on my thighs have had a nice rejuvenating cup of coffee
and a facial...with emollients...and not with relaxed, laid back emollients...
but with really driven emollients whose whole goal in life is that my thighs
are ripple free. I love you, emollients, I really do.
I believe this lotion will restore the years that the locusts (3 childbirths)
have stolen. Can I get an amen?
Even now, as I hold my leg in a certain light, I can no longer see
its dimpled appearance...especially when I close my eyes.
And let us not forget my Rimmel Hide the Blemish Concealer, that is effectively
concealing my under eye circles as well as the twin blemishes that lit on
either side of my nose last Sunday like the horns of a goat.
Effectively concealed. Yes, they are.
So many of you were worried about my beauty regimen
with the bang incident and all. You were afraid I would never recover.
Clearly, that is all in the past.
The next time you see me, I will be 29, firm skinned, blemish free
and bright eyed with nary a dark under-eye circle in sight.
If by chance you are feeling a bit "less than" in the beauty arena
and need a little pick me up, read your moisturizer.
You are sassier than you think.
Look in your mirror and say,
"Girlfriend's got it going on."
And you do. It says so right on that label.

tsgs on a mission

Sometimes I get absolutely overwhelmed by the news and all the tragedy and
craziness that happens in the world on a daily basis.
As you know, it is all I can do to keep my families underwear clean
and put away.
Add to that, the knowledge of a some great need,
other than tonights dinner menu and I tend to get a little paralyzed.
Because I am so small and the needs are so big.
(We're talking in generalities here...the term "small" is not in
reference to the circumference of my thighs or the amount of pride
the Lord has to deal with in my heart...but I digress....)
And when things like world catastrophes or horrific stories
of abuse or children starving come to my attention,
I often get angry or teary or pray things like,
"How can this be?" or "How can we stop this?" and
I am left feeling powerless, hoping that God in his all powerfulness
is on the move.
I love that line in the Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe
when the Beavers tell the Pevensey children why things are changing,
why the snow is melting, why the trees are blooming.
They say, "It's Aslan. He's on the Move."
And the Beavers? They were excited to be a part of it.
It's stirs the heart to hope.
This morning when I logged onto the computer, it said maybe 22,000 people
are dead in Myanmar, formerly Burma, because of the cyclone.
And I said out loud, "Oh, Jesus, help them!"
Because I can't imagine one family being gone in an instant let alone an
entire cities worth of families. And the need is so enormous, what can be done?
And then I opened my e-mail and I had received this note from World Vision.

Dear Friend,

World Vision is airlifting emergency supplies to survivors of the devastating cyclone that struck Myanmar over the weekend. Right now, more than 10,000 people are feared dead. Thousands more have been left homeless and desperately need food, shelter, and fresh, clean water. Please click here to rush them aid!

World Vision is delivering emergency supplies to the children and families who've lost their homes in the cyclone. Your gift today will enable us to speed critical aid to the survivors. Some of the most important items include:

* Emergency food
* Survival kits
* Water purifiers
* Tarps and shelters
* Mosquito nets for survivors

Over 10,000 have died, and hundreds of thousands are homeless in the wake of Cyclone Nargis.
AP Photo/Xinhua, Zhang Yunfei

Help Now

World Vision's National Director in Myanmar, James Tumbuan, described a chaotic scene: "Yangon totally collapsed. All the roads were blocked with fallen trees ... Getting drinking water is a real problem. We need water purification units like those that were used in the tsunami. It could take days to get the electricity back."

As you respond, please also pray for the people of Myanmar as they struggle to recover from this terrible disaster. Thank you, and God bless you for your faithful support during times of emergency.

In Christ,

And then I wondered...is it a coincidence that I said to Jesus, "Help them!"
and then 2 seconds later I get an e-mail telling me how I can help them?
I don't think so. It seems to me that quite possibly Jesus is on the move.
Helping. Healing. Binding up the broken hearted.
And I would like to be a part of that. And I thought you might too.
So if you don't have an avenue to do so, here is a small cup of water that
you can pass along to those in great suffering in the name of Christ.
Partnering with World Vision is a practical act
to add to the layers of prayer that you send up on behalf
of the people in Myanmar that God loves so much.
You can do it here

confession #12: i am rarely on time

Every Sunday morning I wake up and think
"I think I'll be on time to church today."
Now this is never true.
So I'm not quite sure why I keep thinking this will miraculously happen.
Yesterday morning was no different. But I thought for a second it might be.
In fact, we were in good form. I had a faint inkling of hope rear its head.
Today could be the day. The day that I arrive before I am supposed to arrive.
On most Sunday mornings, Addison somehow manages to need a diaper change
right when we are ready to walk out the door.
The kind of diaper change that you cannot wait on
if you want your olfactory senses to survive the car ride.
But yesterday morning we had an early diaper change. Thank you, Addie!
And I began to aspire to greatness in my own mind. I thought,
"I will have all the children dressed, fed and to make it to worship
practice on time."
You should never think these things.
And you should definitely never say them out loud
because surely the fates will rise up against you
with a forgotten shoe or beach traffic or an empty gas tank
and you will be late. Again.
But yesterday, something else conspired against me.
Zac Efron. Yes, our High School Musical 2 friend.
Will has taken to dressing like our buddy Zac.
He is 4 but he has a keen sense of fashion.
He picks out his clothes every night and lays them neatly at
the foot of his bed.
And while sometimes the color combos are a little off,
I figure if my mom let my wear pink and green flowered shorts
with a red white and blue halter top, he's doing okay.
And he is doing a great job dressing himself.
Until yesterday when he wanted to wear a blue and orange plaid
button up shirt under a red and gray plaid long sleeved button up shirt.
And I had to draw the line. For myself. Personally.
I couldn't take the plaids. And the two collars fighting with each other.
So when I told Will he needed to pick one or the other,
I knew right then and there, my hopes of being on time were shot.
Because Will began to grieve over his two shirts as though
Zac Efron had passed away.
Why wouldn't I let him wear the shirts?
He loves both shirts. Zac Efron WOULD wear these shirts together.
Have you ever had a fashion fight with a 4 year old?
You should just know right off you won't win.
But I had a brilliant idea. I recalled an actual scene from
HSM when Troy and Gabriella first sang together at the ski lodge
(Let's not discuss how many times I have seen this, that I have
memorized Zac Efron's outfit because I will lie and say "only twice".)
and told Will, I believe that Zac Efron wore a button down shirt
with a JACKET and can you believe that you have a jacket right HERE?
And after a few (17) minutes, Will complied.
And we all got in the car.
And only arrived a few (17) minutes late to worship practice.
Maybe next week I'll be on time.

giveaway winner

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4
Timestamp: 2008-05-02 16:04:06 UTC

Since my good friend Brian Steckman was not actually
signing up for the giveaway and does not wear lip gloss
that makes Cari comment #4!
Congratulations, Cari!
I can't wait to send you your prize!
Leave your e-mail in the comments.

a good story

Somedays just don't turn out like you expect them to.
Somedays you think everything is fantastic and then all of the sudden
craziness happens and your plans change and you are left wondering....
"What in the world?"
This past Tuesday when my Uncle Terry went in to have the
stints in his heart checked out, he found out that he would need
quintuple bypass surgery the very next day.
Now that is very unnerving.
But my Uncle Terry and my Aunt Mary are people
who somehow handle such news with aplomb, prayer and some humor.
They have a lot of faith in Jesus and they are just plain fantastic.
They let me live with them the year before I got married.
Even though, 5 of their 7 boys were still living at home.
My cousin, David, lent me his room. His senior year in high school.
Thanks, again, David. So you can see this is an all around terrific family.
Generous and kind to a fault.
So I decided that they probably needed some chocolate as they sat waiting
for Uncle Terry while he was in surgery.
I took Addison with me and we made our way to the surgery waiting room.
Delivering hot chocolate chip scones.
Well, somehow things never quite go as expected.
As I hugged my cousins and set down the scones, Addison burst into tears.
Which is what he does in a room full of people pensively waiting for
their loved ones in surgery.
We didn't stay to visit...with the screaming and such.
But Aunt Mary filled in my sister Jenny who filled me in on the rest of the story
and it was confirmed by my cousin Brianna. (Hi, Bri!)
As I left, one of the ladies in the waiting room told Aunt Mary,
"A nurse just told me you can't have food in here."
Or something to that effect.
Now if it was me, I would have wrapped up the scones or shuttled them out the door
or something like that.
But Aunt Mary has a way about her.
And instead, she offered scones to every single person in the room.
And they took them.
Then the nurse, who had said there was no food allowed, returned.
And said,"Hey, there's no food allowed in here" or something to that effect.
And Aunt Mary raised her hand and said, "It's my fault."
And than proceeded to convince this nurse that she also needed a scone.
And she took one! And later, returned to tell Aunt Mary,
"That was the best scone I never had."
And that is the best story I have heard in a long time.
Because Aunt Mary tends to spread a lot of joy....wherever she is.
Even on the craziest of days. And then on top of that, she's got sass.
And I hope it's in the blood. Because I would love a little sass.
My sister, Erica, thinks that we have just not come into our full
"sassihood" yet but we will soon.
So if you have a moment, say a prayer on Uncle Terry's behalf,
as he continues to heal in the hospital.
He is doing well but these things need to be covered in prayer.
And if you need a little treat you can whip up these scones.
Just add a cup of chocolate chips after the buttermilk.
And don't forget to serve them with a side of sass.