timmy has a bad day

Poor Timothy Sebastian, aka "Timmy," has had quite a day. After starting it out great with a friendly game of Connect Four with one of his Santa pals, the day got progressively worse for our smiling red-suited little elf.

 

Rachel decided this morning that she wanted to play Connect Four, and since Santa had been taking his sweet time to play his turn, she figured that Timmy and Santa wouldn't mind if she took their game from them. This left poor Timmy laying on his back under the tree. Turns out the box was supporting his stuffed, yet limp body. 

He lay there most of the day until Hurley got a whiff of him. Before we knew it Timmy was hanging by one leg out of the mouth of our 85 pound German Shepherd. Hurley liked this game very much and proceeded to throw Timmy up in the air and try to catch him, once again in his mouth. The more Gage yelled at Hurley to "drop it!" the more excited Hurley got to throw the helpless little elf.

Fast forward a few minutes (it was probably just a few seconds) and Timmy is on the ground and Gage is guarding him from the dog with a laundry basket. The girls are yelling. Rachel is screaming, "His magic! His magic!" I run for the kitchen to grab the tongs (you are not supposed to touch the elf, you know), and Abby suggests we put him in the freezer. What? That's not weird.

So, now he is laying in the freezer getting his magic renewed in case the dog slobber was lethal. Now the kids are worried about how he will get out of the freezer. Seriously? They believe he flies to the North Pole every night and speaks directly with Santa, but they don't believe he can free himself from an ice box?? Kids...

better is one day

Take a minute to remember the very best day you have ever had. (If you cannot think of one, then picture what your “best day ever” would look like.) Think about the things that made it great – maybe it was the people you were with or the food you ate. Maybe it was a dream realized or a miracle revealed…think about the joy and peace and excitement of that day…

Now imagine having a day like that all the rest of the days of your life…

This, or course, would be best case scenario here on Earth. But even if we could realize that, we are reminded in Psalm 84:10 that one day in heaven is better than 1000 “best” days on Earth.

“Better is one day in Your courts than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a gatekeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked.” (Psalm 84:10)

I like the way the New Living Translation says it:

“A single day in Your courts is better than a thousand anywhere else! I would rather be a gatekeeper in the house of my God than live the good life in the homes of the wicked.”

Or the Joah Contemporary Teenage Version:

"I would rather scrub toilets in Heaven for one day, than be a king on Earth for thousands!!"

It is always easy to look forward to Heaven when we are struggling, when life is hard and the world is not fair. It becomes harder when we are having good days - when we look forward to babies being born, weddings, and celebrations. The bible reminds us that Heaven is better.

Better than 1000 of my best days? I cannot wait.

jog-a-thon

The kids are headed out to solicit jog-a-thon pledges from the neighbors. They made a marketing plan before they left. Abby is the spokeswoman - she is doing all the talking. Gage is the muscle - he is carrying the pen and money bag. Marissa is going to ring the doorbell and stand in the front - because she is the cutest.

grand larceny

Grand larceny. Psh. That is naturally where people's minds go when you mention that you want to borrow some bolt cutters...

I promised that it was nothing illegal. It just wasn't something I could talk about yesterday afternoon - since the issue wasn't resolved yet. And while I found it amusing, my husband was not yet to "that place" where he could laugh about it.

Allen rode his bike to church yesterday morning. It was a great day for it. He passed hundreds of Rogue Half runners as he peddled the bike path to Phoenix. Unfortunately, a ride home wasn't in the cards for him because he couldn't get his bike lock open. Apparently 1) he either forgot his combination, 2) one of the kids played with it and reset it, or 3) his wife (yes, me) inadvertently changed the combination the last time she used it to lock the stroller to the bike rack at the library. (It's a nice stroller.) In any case, the lock wasn't budging and neither was his bike. It was nestled in the bushes, safely secured to a light post outside of church. (Seriously, can we get a bike rack Ron?)

Of course, Allen was frustrated, so I kept my helpful mouth shut while we tried to figure out what to do. Some sweet members from our church, who saw Allen ride in, stopped to ask our dilemma. Upon telling them the situation, they laughed. My eyes got big and I thought, oh no...too soon. Too soon to laugh.

We called the Phoenix police department and the fire department. What? They help rescue kittens from trees, why couldn't they help us rescue Allen's bike from a light post? The fire department told us to call a locksmith and to bring proof of ownership with us to claim the bike. After searching the file cabinet for a receipt from four years ago, and the photo albums for a picture of Allen with his bike, we were convinced this plan was going to end up with Allen's bike being impounded.

Enter Plan B. Bolt cutters.

It's surprising to me how many people do not own bolt cutters. I am not sure why that surprises me, since we don't didn't own any until yesterday either. Anyhoo, Allen used them to free his bike...eventually. Turns our bolt cutters aren't the preferred tool for cutting through braided cable. They served more as a scoring tool, and Allen had to spend a few minutes bending, prying and cutting to free his bike. I mention this because it looked like Allen was stealing his bike. And while he was in the middle of "Operation Bike Rescue" the Phoenix police called him back regarding his "suspicious" request for their assistance in cutting a bike lock. After they retrieved his full name, address, and date of birth, they were eventually satisfied with his explanation. Which is good, since any passerby would have likely called in a bike theft in progress. They may still show up to search our garage. We may have to call on the laughing church goers as witnesses...

In any event, Allen's bike is home safe now and I can laugh about it...and blog about it.

patience, endurance, joy

I have been struggling - big time - with my kids. I have "had it up to here" (arm stretched waaay above my head), I am tired, and I am grumpy. I freak out. I yell. I cry out of frustration. I cry because I stepped on a Lego - again. Then I feel guilty. So I cry some more. This is not the mom I want to be. This is not the mom I feel God created me to be. So I pray. I desperately want to be a mom that my kids think of fondly. I want to gently, and quietly, rebuke them. I want them to think of me with words like joy, love, and patience. Not crazy, loud, and mad.

So anyway, I went searching the bible for a verse that I could cling to to help me through this season of life. I feel God led me to a verse in Colossians, and I am clinging to it and praying it over and over for myself.

"We also pray that you will be strengthened with all his glorious power so you will have all the endurance and patience you need. May you be filled with joy,.." (Colossians 1:11)

I know...how perfect. Right? So I am praying this over and over. I repeat it in my prayers to the kids. I remind myself of it as I clean up spilled juice while answering for the 16th time that I do not know where the cat is...go clean your room and see if you can find him. I even posted it on facebook. Patience, endurance, joy. Patience, endurance, joy.

And then...I lose it. I mean full on yelling, crying, frantically cleaning bedrooms as I chant, "if you don't want it thrown away, then put it away!" Totally insane. Seriously not the legacy I want to leave. Sigh. And so after the "crazy" wears off, I pray. I ask my kids to forgive me. I ask God to forgive me. Just like I have done dozens of times before. Please don't give up on me.

So I am struggling with this. As I sat in church today I kept thinking about Colossians (totally not what Pastor John was speaking on today - clearly I have a short attention span too) and about the legacy I want to leave. And while I want my kids to describe me as level-headed, joyful, and patient - memories are being made and opinions are being formed, right now. I don't think calm and peaceful are in the cards for me. But God, in His awesome graciousness, spoke to me. He reminded me that while I do fly off the handle, get crazy, and yell sometimes - I always repent. I ask forgiveness and I try (I really do try) to do better. And that is my legacy.

I am not afraid to admit my mistakes to my kids. I do not hesitate to ask their forgiveness. I have struggles and I try my hardest to do what is right. I pray for God's power, and I seek guidance. And when I mess up, I ask for forgiveness, and I try again. I hope they remember that as they reminisce about their childhood and their mom that was a little (okay, a lot) nutso on occasion.

While I am more at ease about the permanent memories my children are forming, I am still determined to grow and change. I know God is calling me to something greater. And I know that if I do not hold firm to the word He put in my heart, I will not be acting as the mother He has called me to be. And I will probably rip a small stuffed animal's head off or something.

I need patience, endurance, and joy. And I need His glorious power to strengthen me.

...I need to go see what that noise was...

"the bigs" big trip

Mom, Grammi, and "the bigs" take a BIG trip to San Francisco:: a diary by Mom

2 Days before trip: Gage has a fever. Not cool. I am freaking out.

1 Day before trip: Gage is doing better. Still has a fever, but it goes down when I medicate him. I am confident he will feel good for most of the trip, but am nervous about the travel tomorrow. Song is stuck in my head...(Music Notes)"If you're going to San Fran-cisco, be sure to wear a -"...wait, what is it again? A ribbon or a bow? Mo-om...

Day 1 of trip: I am up early. Too excited to sleep in. Gage does not have a fever, but he is not smiling, jumping, or eating - so I know he is not feeling well. Driving to Eugene to catch a plane (Grammi thought the take off and return times were a better fit for us). Kids LOVE the tv screens Grammi bought for them and are enjoying a movie. We tell them en route we are going to be flying. Grammi also gives them each $20 for souvenirs. They are more excited about the money than the plane. Kids.

Waiting to board. Gage was super nervous about going through the metal detector since he had a metal zipper on his jeans.

Boarded through the rear of the plane. Mental note to self: do not stop during airplane boarding to take a picture of your kids in front of the plane (even if it is their first time flying)...it makes TSA agents very jumpy and grumpy...

***Back at home Allen and "the littles" enjoyed Dairy Queen.

Day 2: My first ride on a Cable Car (oh right, the kids too). I was a little nervous. I held on to Gage tight. He is feeling better finally - I can tell because he won't hold still and he has a hollow leg. We end up hoofing it to the wharf after waiting in vain for an empty(ish) Cable Car. Went to a very tall mall with spiral escalators. Yes, we rode them all the way to the top and back down again. Headed down to Ghiradelli Square. Their sundaes are amazing! We drag ourselves back into the hotel We are beat. Exactly what we wanted. On the kid's list of "things to do" is explore the hotel. So we do. Found the workout room, meeting rooms, laundry room, offices, and a fire escape that has a beautiful view of the city. I think they were a little disappointed. They thought it would be a little more like "The Suite Life of Zack and Cody."

View from hotel room. Kids were very glad we were up so high.

On the first night, Gage got out of bed a number of times through the night and stood at the window just looking out at the view. Oh, and he is a blanket hog and he kicks in his sleep.

Made it!

Rode the Ferris Wheel 3 times. Grammi and I rode it too!

Found a Jamba Juice at the very tall mall...on my list of things to do! Check!

Pillow fight and jumping on the bed were on Gage's "to do" list as well. Check!

Awesome souvenir Grammi bought me to remember our trip to San Francisco.

***Back at home Allen and "the littles" went to McDonald's to play and have dinner.

Day 3: Get on a bus and head to Golden Gate Bridge. Gage does not want to go because he is afraid he will fall in the water and be eaten by a shark. After we are done, he is disappointed because he did not even see a shark. Never found the Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park. China Town was next. Mom offered to buy us dinner there. I graciously (at least I hope I was gracious) declined. I am not sure the health department has made their rounds down there in the last, oh say, 10 years. Long day ended in Abby stomping her foot at me and telling me she was not moving another inch unless we were headed back to the hotel. I laughed. We went to the wharf and ate pizza instead.

Getting ready to walk across the Golden gate Bridge.

We walked about a third of the way.

Went to the Palace of Fine Arts. Got into the kids museum for free. Thank you ScienceWorks membership!

 

Gage super excited to see the sea lions again. Abby...well...is Abby.

***Back at home Allen and "the littles" ate pizza and stayed up late to watch the stars.

Day 4: Finished up our trip by hitting all the tourist attractions we missed so far. By this time I am an expert at getting us around the city by bus. No longer am I afraid to fall off the Cable Car. Unfortunately the city map we have does not show us elevation. So while the trek to Lombard street from our bus drop off location was only three blocks, they were three very vertical blocks. When Grammi stopped, she had to rest on a tree for fear of rolling back down the hill. The Fortune Cookie Factory was the best, I think. We were a little nervous to walk down the alley my GPS was telling me to go - but did in faith that the AAA Travel Guide would not steer us wrong. Cable car museum, Coit Tower, Bubba Gumps, and another trip to Ghiradelli for Sundaes rounded out our last day in San Francisco.

Made it to the top, and down Lombard Street without incident. It was beautiful.

Old man in the Fortune Cookie Factory posed with kids for a photo. This photo cost me fifty cents, by the way.

Walking past the "Stinking Rose" was on Abby's "to do" list. Check!

Waiting for seats at "Gubble Bumps...I mean, Bubble Gumps...I mean, what is it called again??"

***Back at home Allen and "the littles" are swimming at Poppi's house. We were swimming too. It was 95° in Medford. It was 65° in San Francisco. I have pictures from both places...Allen sitting at the bar drinking a cold one. Me in a sweatshirt and ear muffs, trying to stay covered from the wind with the children's towels...but I won't post them because they are a divorce point. LOL!

Day 5: We get up early to head home. The trip was fantastic and many memories have been made. Check! Thanks Grammi!

bad weather for ice

Weird. People do not like to buy ice when it is cold and raining. That revelation coupled with the fact that summer is taking it's sweet time coming to the Rogue Valley has made for a disheartening couple of weekends on the vending front. Unfortunately for Allen, not only did he have to solicit ice while wearing a down jacket, rain boots, and a beanie (kinda sending the wrong message when it comes to enticing patrons to buy frozen yumminess) - but he had to do it while standing under a tent with knife cuts in it (courtesy of teenage vandals a few events back). In case you are wondering, a tent with big holes in it does not really keep water from cascading down your back and soaking you to the bone.

On the bright side, the slower business has given Allen a chance to chit-chat with other vendors and learn a few things about the biz. Like - etiquette. Did you know there is vendor etiquette?? For instance, do not buy your lunch with a twenty - it's bad form to necessitate change when you've got ones and fives in your money apron...that you're wearing...while buying your elephant ear. Oh, that is another thing we have learned - not all elephant ears are created equal. Don't turn your oil up so high, people!

Oh yeah. We are carnies.

I was starting to feel a little stressed about the luck we were having with bad weather. And I was moping. I think I may have cried. In any case, Allen reminded me there was absolutely nothing we could do about it. So what do you do when your weekend plans to sell ice turn into weekend plans to stay dry?? You come home wet, praise the Lord, pet the dog, break out the pina colada ice, add some rum, and call it an adventure.


Eat ice. Have fun. Honor God.

home-iversary

I cannot believe it has been a year since we moved to Central Point. It is certainly true - what my parents and other "adults" have said - that the older you get, the quicker time flies. In fact, we have been back in the Rogue Valley for four years now, and it seems like we just said good-bye to Bend.

The thing I like best about our home (besides the awesome family that lives in it) is the feeling of contentment that floods me every time I think about where we have been and where we are going. I feel that God has blessed us with a "pause" in our craziness. He has given me a chance to slow down and breathe. To sit on my deck and enjoy the clouds. To throw frisbees in my backyard. To take my kids on walks around the neighborhood. To attempt to grow something...anything (please God??). To get to know my neighbors, and their pets. Just to ingest the goodness of Him.

"Be still and know that I am God." ~Psalm 46:10

I just have one more box to empty. There is always one more box. The box that has things in it you don't really want to put out in your house, but that you don't want to get rid of either. The box that you would never miss if it got lost, but when you look in to it, you are so happy to have found it. Ugh. Allen brought that box into the living room so I would have to deal with it. No more ignoring it in the garage. I hope he knows that this is his happy home-iversary present.

bad word

This morning, as I was backing out of the driveway to take the kids to school, Marissa piped up and said, "Mommy, Rachel said the 's-h' word."

I sighed, and conceded to myself, I guess my dad is finally wearing off on my kids. 

I looked in my rear view mirror to see Rachel solemn faced, crocodile tears welling up in her eyes, not denying the tattle of her sister. I explained to her that saying that word was not okay and that if she were to say it again that I would spank her or wash her mouth out with soap. She proceeded to cry the whole way to school.

On the way home from dropping the kids at school, Rachel spoke up, "M-m-mom. Ca-an I a-ask-k a que-question?" She was trying very hard not to cry. "Th-this doesn't c-count though."

"Yes honey?"

"H-how c-come Abby c-can say 'Shush'?"

Ugh. My heart sank. Not my proudest moment as a mother.

Thankfully, 4 year olds have big forgiving hearts, short memories, and a fondness of M&M's.

puppy school

Well, Hurley starts school this week. I am hoping his instructor is a bit of a miracle worker, or a sorcerer or something. Because, WOW, this dog needs a lot of work. He is still a train wreck. He is adorable, but that can only save him for so long as he continues to dig up the yard and chew up the deck (and kids). Allen and I have decided that he is part of our family now, and family is worth fighting for. So we will do what is necessary, and pay what is necessary, in order to live harmoniously with our canine. Hurley will be joining the puppy class this week. I wonder if it will be a problem that he is approaching 80 pounds and the only thing "puppy" about him is his mentality. I hope he doesn't flunk.

In other pet related news, I found out that Abby has been using my face washcloths to dry off the cat - and then putting them back in drawer. Awesome.

my testimony 2.0

Sometimes, I wish I had an exciting story to tell, about how God met me in the pit of hell, or how He rescued me from an impossible situation. But the truth is - my testimony is kind of boring. However, it is my story, and nothing God does is insignificant, so it is important for me to share it...glitz-less, glamorous-less, boring and all.

My childhood was pretty uneventful. While I did not grow up in a Christian home, it was a good home. My parents taught me right from wrong and did a good job of keeping drama away from me.

In high school, I didn't have any strong convictions of my own - religious, political, or otherwise - but instead, I let my friends and their beliefs shape my thoughts and opinions. Because of that, I believed what was popular thinking, what was "pc," and what was easy. I boldly proclaimed my opinions, but I could not defend them when asked. I often criticized those with conservative values, and I questioned friends who proclaimed their faith.

It was also in high school that I started really thinking about God. I wasn't sure what I was thinking about, I didn't understand faith, and I didn't feel broken. I just felt a pulling, a feeling that maybe there was something else. Something more.

Romans 1:20 proclaims that we know by instinct that there is a God and Ecclesiastes 3:11 tells us that God is who puts the knowledge of eternity in our hearts.

Even with intuition working within me, I did not look for God. I continued to make average choices with my life (I told you - boring) and standing up for things I knew nothing about.

Sometime after high school, Allen (future husband, not a Christian back then, has a far more interesting testimony than me) and I started hanging out with some new friends. They were smart. They were fun. They had beliefs that countered popular culture. They were Christians. The more we hung out with them, the more my thinking changed. But unlike in high school, my beliefs weren't being shaped by convenience or by my friends. They made sense to me. I could defend them. I believed them.

Now here is where my testimony takes a brief turn to the interesting side. Most people who accept Jesus into their heart can tell you exactly (or pretty darn close) when and how it happened. I cannot. I never went forward at an alter call, I didn't stand or raise my hand during a church service, and no one led me in a personal prayer. I do know that it was some time in the two years between the end of high school and my wedding that I made the choice to believe that Jesus died for my sins so that I could live forever. I can say that with certainty because when I graduated I would have laughed if you asked me about Jesus, but when I got married I had no doubt that Jesus was alive in me.

I am a Christian. So what does that mean? I wish it meant that now my life was free from hardship and pain - that I didn't struggle or mess up. But that is not the truth. The truth is I have battled with eating disorders, depression, and jealousy, pride, gossip, and contentment (oh, just to name a few). What is different now is how I think, how I form opinions, and how I act because of what I know. I know God exists because I see His hand in everything around me. I have peace because I know God is in control. I have joy because I am sure of the promises of God. I love life because I know I have a specific purpose in it. And I know that no matter how bad or good things are in this life - here on earth  - that there is more. 

Looking back now, I can see that it was God who was calling me in high school. He calls all of us. He places the knowledge of Him in our hearts so we are without excuse. We have to make a choice though - a choice to believe that we are sinners in need of a savior - a choice to accept the free gift of salvation. Even though my story is pretty plain - when I invited Jesus into my heart, my life changed forever - and there is nothing boring about that! 

"This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!" (2 Corinthians 5:17 NLT)

puppy purchases

I bought Hurley a new bed today. It's a temporary one to fit in his temporary kennel while he is temporarily small(ish). I am actually not really sure why we went to the expense to purchase him a cozy, soft bed since he seems to prefer sleeping outside, in the cold, on a damp rug. It does have a zebra print. Maybe he is drawn to animal prints. Classy.

Anyhoo, the bed I got him today is a "large" size. On the dog bed brochure were pictures of dogs and the size of bed each breed would require. When Hurley is full grown he will surpass the "extra large" and require a "giant" size dog bed. Perhaps this is no shock to people who are familiar with the German Shepherd breed...but the daily revelations of the ginormity of our dog are astounding to me.

Another realization I had at the pet store today was that the 3 baths I had to give Hurley in the first week of his arrival in our home probably caused the itching he is currently experiencing. Apparently princess shampoo from the dollar store is not appropriate pet laundering soap. I thought the worker who was assisting me was going to call the ASPCA on me when I told her what I had done. Seriously lady - he was covered in poop from his head to his tail - it was what I had in a pinch. So, I also bought oatmeal dog shampoo today. It literally cost more than the shampoo I use on my head. And the bottle is half the size - at least.

Ahhhhh...pet ownership. And, as I am writing this, Hurley is sound asleep on his new bed...tooting. Oh.my.gosh! The smell is HUGE. Perhaps our next purchase will have to be gas masks.



Pet your pet. Have fun. Honor God.

Hurley in his new bed. Just like a toddler...cute when he is asleep.

Brotherly love. Milo laid down and waited for Hurley to come play.

A little game of follow the leader. Hurley is patiently waiting for Milo to be done on the fence.