Thursday, April 30, 2009

Everyone's Got Something

I love listening to the Dr. Laura show, but it makes me sad. There are so many hurting people. Crazy things are going on in the lives of people. Parents are struggling with the children, couples chose the wrong mate, and family members hate each other. Every body's got something wrong. A guy today was in tears because his wife has had three homosexual affairs and one heterosexual affair. Yes, they have children. Ugh.

Listening to the show makes me entirely grateful for my family and the hang-ups that I consider difficult in my life. I am so glad that I serve a great God that hears my cries, and who brings hope and healing, and who I can connect with at any moment.

I am thrilled that I can run to God, my Father, for comfort and encouragement.

I am blessed with a husband who is a real man, who loves Jesus, helps with the kids, and around the house, and loves me with all of his heart.

My kids aren't perfect. They make mistakes, but there is no doubt in their mind that they are loved and that their parents love each other.

People need God. Who do you need to help connect with your God? A neighbor? A friend? A mom at your kids' school?

We need to connect the disconnected so that can know the hope we have in Jesus.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

I Refuse

I think that my computer is possessed. Almost every time that I try to type the work God, it ends up being typed with a lower case "G" instead of capitalized with an upper case "G".

There is nothing that I do differently as I type the work God, and all the other time when I type proper names I have no problem with the shift key, however, 9 times out of 10 when I look back at what I have typed, I discover that the word God, appears with a lower case "g" and is not capitalized.

I think that satan tries to mess with my computer. It sounds silly, but the frequency of the typo makes me consider satan's devious ways. He is truly stupid.

Therefore, let it be told, that from this point forward, I refuse to capitalize the work satan. He doesn't deserve a capital letter. I don't care if it is grammatically incorrect or if the punctuation police are going to arrest me I will not, under any circumstances, capitalize the "S" in satan.

Join with me. Won't you? We all know, satan is stupid.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Parenting Magazine Feature



Spilt Milk is being featured in the May edition of Parenting Magazine!
It is in a great section called: Your Toys-Goodies Worth Grabbing. Have you grabbed your copy of Spilt Milk and a copy for your six of your best friends?

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Sunday Thoughts

"These things I plan for your life won't happen right away. Slowly, steadily, surely, the time approaches when the vision will be fulfilled. If it seems slow, wait patiently, for it will surely take place."

Habakkuk 2:3

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Hand-Held Crepe

I couldn't decide between the hand held crepe and the funnel cake for dessert. No, I wasn't at the county fair, I was at an outdoor mall 15 minutes from our house. Amazing.

Since there was a significant line jutting from the order area in the crepe place, I decided on a crepe. I didn't want to miss out on what seemed to be very exciting at the Crepe Maker.

After perusing the menu and smelling the warm crepes, I drooled a little on my shirt, and then decided on a Dulce Delight. The warm crepe was filled with bananas, strawberries, caramel, and whipped cream. Yum.

The major mistake that I made was that I ordered one crepe dessert for my husband and I to split. Bad move.

Since I could have eaten one all by myself I convinced my daughter to order a crepe and spilt that one with her. Viola! Two halves=one whole crepe for me. I'm very dessert smart.

Next time I visit the Crepe Maker I'm going to try an entree crepe stuffed with grilled chicken, mozzarella cheese, lettuce, and dressing. I might even try the egg, ham, and cheese crepe too. I love food adventures, and, I now love the Crepe House.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

What a Pain

I had the great privilege of working at the Little League snack bar with my mother, sister-in-law and niece.

After serving up numerous Churros, soft pretzels, hot dogs, Icees, Ring Pops, nachos, and soda pop, my bear legs and sandaled feet were covered in a thin goo of cinnamon sugar, salt, and soda pop. It was fun.

As the orders were shouted to me from the front lines, I quickly grabbed the needed goods and handed them to the cashiers who were receiving crumpled dollar bills, handfuls of sticky change, and snack bar tickets from boys in baseball cleats, parents in hats and sunglasses, and girls in shorts and tank tops.

After our four hour shift, I began sponging over the counter tops and sweeping the saturated linoleum floor. As I was sliding the sponge over the counter, a small edge of the metal encased soft pretzel warmer shot under my finger nail inflicting a small amount of blood and a mountain of pain. I bit my bottom lip, shook off the pain, and continued sponging assuming that my finger would soon swell, and a purple hue would eventually cover the under side of my nail. The tender part - home to thousands of nerve endings.

Since I couldn't see any marked incision, or bruising under my nail that night, I went to bed without medication. At 2:00 a.m. I awoke with a throbbing pain erupting from my finger. The pain was so terrible that I couldn't fall back to sleep. I took two Tylenol, prayed, and eventually fell asleep.

Whatever hurts, can't be seen.

That which is causing me to stay awake at night with throbbing pain is no where to be found.

If the pain causing injury would show up in deep purple or crimson red, I'd feel a little better.

For now, I quietly accept the pain, unable to show off a severe cut, bruise, scrape, or otherwise, and hopefully can sleep without interruption.

How can something invisible, hurt so badly? When I find out, I'll let you know.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Everyone is Reading "Spilt Milk"...Are You?



Go here to order your copy today, please.
Beat the Mother's Day rush!
Thank you.

Monday, April 20, 2009

A Chair and a Princess

We had a princess, bless us with her presence, at our T-ball baseball game last week. She was only three years old, and covering her jeans and t-shirt was a tattered blue Cinderella dress that appeared to be pulled from a dress up box. The perfect attire for her brother's game.

Instead of glass slippers, she wore pink canvas tennis shoes with bare feet tucked inside. She walked around on the grass, oblivious to her surroundings, beckoning for a trip to the snack bar for an Icee.

When her request was ignored, she forced her mother out of the chair she was sitting in and plopped down her small frame. She sat in a chair that was three times her size as her mom stood behind leaning on the back rest with her hands. Apparently embarrassed by her defeat.

"Why don't you get up so Mommy can sit down?" Her mother questioned.
"Addison's chair!" The princess replied.
"No, that is Mommy's chair and Addison is sitting in it."
The mom corrected her daughter's assumption hoping that the young girl would stand up and offer her the chair.

The little girl sat in the big chair, gripping the sides and swinging her feet up and down as her dress swung along with the motion of her tiny legs, happy to be subjecting her mother to standing for half of the baseball game.

I looked over at the woman and smiled, assuring her that I too had been in her exact position at one point or another, with a small child demanding the use of my things, or demanding a taste of my food, or demanding a space that I was occupying. I understood. I understood that the "giving in" was an escape from a potential attitude upheaval from a 2 year old princess and a major interruption from viewing a baseball game between boys ages 4 and 5.

"Addison always wants Mommy's things, right?" She asked the unyielding girl.

Her question was ignored.

I smiled again, and offered the small child a wipe so that she could pretend to clean Mommy's chair instead of sitting in Mommy's chair, she relented. She took the wipe from my hand and began wiping the back and sides of the chair while her mother sat. Finally.

The mom was happy to sit, the princess was happy to clean, and I was happy to help.

Next time I'll bring candy. Princesses love candy.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Sunday Thoughts

"You are not a threat to the enemy when you're spiritually empty."

Doug Fields
Refuel-An Uncomplicated Guide to Connecting with God

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Dear School

Dear School,

Thanks for only shutting down for a week. I miss the fact that you gently care for my children and provide a safe haven for them during the week day. I miss seeing you in the morning and then again in the afternoon. I miss a lot about you right now since having a house filled with sick wee folk.

I am very excited to see you on Monday, however, can you please go easy on the homework? We like to ease into you.

I know that you are only around for a few more months and then you go into hibernation, but I still love you. I'll be glad to see you very soon.

Have a great weekend.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Sit Near the Intercom

I thought I might led you a helping tip.

Tonight we were sitting in the car next to the front door of the restaurant where we were taking the kids for dinner. I was doing some business on the phone, so I didn't hear every word that erupted from the intercom when I was outside the car talking.

The little boys were climbing a nearby tree, and the big kids and my husband sat inside the closed car listening to the Angels game on the radio. I was the one depended on to receive the "your table is ready" signal. I failed.

When I walked inside the restaurant to find out how much longer the wait would be, the gal informed me that they called our name four times and we never responded.

It didn't help that I gave the name "Chuck," and in "Chuck Norris" to be funny for the kids. "Chuck" wasn't a familiar name, that I was used to hearing.

The gal inside the restaurant told me that it would be another 15 minutes since they called us four times and we never responded. They gave our table away.

We all sat, starving, waiting another 15 minutes, with four squirmy children. Not fun.


Not to self: Use your real name, sit near the intercom, and get off the phone - next time.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Traversing with Wings

I enjoy running along a dirt path that is situated along a flood channel near my home. The ducks swim with their ducklings in the green, moss filled water that trickles, and eventually drops, into the Pacific Ocean.

One day on my jog, I noticed a long-legged bird with a white ring around its neck. Since I quickly determined that the bird was not of the pigeon, sparrow, or crow variety, its uniqueness intrigued me enough to visually follow its journey. As it came to the steep sides of the flood channel, I expected the bird to evaluate the slopes degree, determine that a walk was out of the question, and lift its wings to fly down to the water’s edge. However, the bird continued to walk down the slick slope, slowly traversing, using his spindly legs and pointed talons for the seemingly long journey.

I questioned the bird’s decision to walk down to the water as opposed to flying. I couldn’t understand why a creature, who has the God given ability to fly, would take the hard way down to the water, and walk, sliding with each step.
I couldn't help but think that at times, God looks upon the journeys that we choose and questions, “Why are they walking down the steep slope, slipping as they go, when I have given them wings to fly?”

I often chose the harder road instead of trusting in God to help me use my wings. There have been many times when my way of doing things seemed easier, and God forgave me when I failed to trust in His way for my life.

How does your life journey look? Will you struggle down the steep slope, sliding as you go, or will you trust in His promises and use the wings God gave you?

The choice is yours.

Next time, I’m using my wings.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Wishes Do Come True

My entire family has gone through the fever, sore throat, and coughing for five days, except for me (insert "Praise the Lord" here) and my daughter. I have been administering over the counter drugs, glasses of Gatorade, and tissue like a seasoned nurse, working triage, at a county hospital, in the middle of cold and flu season.

What fun.

The other day we were driving to church and my daughter asked, "What if I get sick?" Immediately I responded, "Oh Maddy, you and I cannot get sick, I have been telling that to God all week. I have really been praying that you and I remain healthy."

Since she was coming to the close of her Easter break, and the boys were just beginning theirs, I know that she was bitter, thinking that while the boys are out doing what boys do during break, she would be sitting in a classroom. Let's not forget that she was just ending her vacation and was flitting around with friends, while the boys were in their classrooms. Hmmm, yea, forgot that part.

After our car conversation she seemed sad so I said, "Maddy, you can't get sick." to which she replied, "Yeah, but what if I do?"

I wasn't sure where she was going with the conversation since she is the queen of evasiveness. "Do you want to get sick?" I asked. [blank stare] "Maddy, are you serious? You want to get sick?" [shoulder shrug]

"I am not having this conversation. I cannot believe that would want to get sick." I said. She then replied, "I didn't say that I wanted to, I just asked what if I do?"

I treated the question as rhetorical and continued driving to church. As I thought in my head, "Why would anyone want to get sick?" I remembered being her age and thinking that the attention from mom, and missing a day or two of school, would be great. I surmised that she was thinking the exact same thing, but I wasn't on board with the idea at all after seeing the boys go through sleepless nights, chills, fever, loss of appetite, and croupy coughs.

Wishes do come true. My daughter woke up with a fever and has to miss school. Her prayers were answered and half of mine were answered. Although she is sick, I am not sick, have no intention of getting sick, and rebuke all virus related to sickness. That should cover me. I don't want to miss work, and I don't need my mom to stay home with me, even though she makes a fantastic vegetable soup.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Just Choking

I like to help. I like to give people who seem lost, direction. I like to tap the shoulder of the person in front of me in line and tell them that the other check stand is open and they get to be first. I like to tuck in tags of those who have shirt tags in the "up" position. I like to guide colleagues when they ask me for assistance. That's just me.

One day my husband and I were sitting in church. We sat where we normally do, on the far left side. I don't even know what the other side of the worship center looks like since we have sat in the same section for 17 years.

Although we rarely see children in the adult service, this particular day, a couple sat in front of us with their very fidgety four year old. This never bothers me. I typically will smile at the child if they turn to look at me, and this day was no different.

I could tell that the parents were getting anxious because their boy seemed extra board and wasn't accepting the offering envelope and a pen as a sufficient boredom buster. It was obvious that he needed more.

The helper in me was busting out her skin. I searched my purse for something to keep the boy's attention averted away from the constant fidget and there they were. Neatly wrapped in clear plastic sat three, Jolly Rancher, hard candies, in flavors of watermelon, cherry, and green apple. I plucked the candy from my purse, tapped the mother on the shoulder, and revealed it to her. She smiled, unwrapped the pink sweet, and handed it to her son.

Like magic, the boy sat, wiggle free. The mother turned and thanked me with an obvious sense of relief.

About two minutes later, my helpful candy diversion turned into a hazard. The boy began to choke on the candy, and the mother had to help him muster the mass out from his mouth. Thankfully he survived, and avoided a 9-1-1 call for help in the middle of a church service.

Next time I'll not only consider the hazard of giving a four year old a piece of hard candy, but also consider stifling my need to help. I don't want anyone to die because of my zealous need to help. That's just plain wrong.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Happy Easter!

"At just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

~Romans 5:6-8

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Chocolate Bunnies and Cash

I'm a bit sad.

I used to love the Saturday before Easter when I would scurry about collecting goods form the store for the conservative Easter baskets for all four of my children. I would purposefully choose candy and other things that fit their tastes, and typically a new bathing suit or beach towel from Old Navy or Target was part of the package.

Smiles erupted Easter morning when each child would open their small gift and immediately devour a delicious candy treat, breaking all rules for breakfast fare.

This year is different. No one wants a new bathing suit or beach towel. No one is interested in a small token toy to play with. No one wants a chocolate egg or hollowed chocolate bunny. They all want cash. Cash? How Eastery is cash. Not Eastery at all.

One is saving for a phone. Another is saving for a mission trip. The little ones want to pick out something at Target and use their own money. This is sad. This is sad and wrong.

They are getting a chocolate bunny whether they want one or not. What's an Easter basket without a chocolate bunny?

This is sad.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Blessed are the Other Mothers

I am not a fan of Lost, so if you automatically went to the assumption that this post was Lost related, it is not. The little that I do know regarding Lost is that the "Others" are not good and the "Other Mother" to which I am referring is very great.

Yesterday my daughter came running into the kitchen shouting, "Lily invited me to see the midnight premiere of Hannah Montana." My mind immediately went to "Hmmm" I quickly thought. "Drop her off at 11:00 at night, and then set my alarm for 2:30 to pick her up." This was not sounding very fun in my mind.

I loved the idea and plan, I loathed the role that I had in the plan, and then Lily's mother called. Not only did she say that the tickets were their treat, she offered to pick and and bring home my daughter. This plan was sounding much better. What a gracious lady.

I adjusted to the idea instantly, and all went well. I waited for my daughter to return at 2:30 a.m. and then the phone rang. I panicked slightly. Nothing great happens at 2:30 a.m.

"Can I spend the night at Lily's mom?" After my heart stopped beating out of control from the sudden wake up call, I agreed. Not only did the other mother take the girls to the movie, but she brought my daughter home to gather her things for the sleepover, and then drove the girls back to her house.

I love other mothers that are fun and gracious. I hope that I am the other mother to - other mothers.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

I Wouldn't Make a Good Nurse

I'm super glad that I never went to nursing school because I would have failed. I am pretty good at caring for sick children, however, I am not so good at caring for sick adults. Is that bad?

I guess the fact that I didn't choose a career in nursing has saved a lot of people from complaining to the administration regarding my lack of caring for others properly. However, since I was in elementary education for 20 years, I would probably do well as a pediatric nurse.

Please don't ask why I am even bring this up for discussion, because I am not a nurse and don't plan on ever becoming a nurse. There, that is solved.

I am though, utterly amazed at the caring hearts of those who make a living out of caring for the sick, and constantly meeting the needs of strangers. That is such a gift.

Don't get me wrong. I love people. I love relating to people and discovering more about them. I love watching people and hanging out with people. I love talking and listening to people, I'm just not great with sick people.

All you nurses out there, rock! I wish that I was more like you.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Who Needs What?

What do you get when you combine a five year old with a fever and croup, a mother recovering from shoulder surgery, a fifteen year old girl home for spring break, and a full-time job?

Everyone needing something at every moment. In other words, needs needing meeting. How awesome it that?

All right, perhaps I am not needed at every moment, I did take a break to write this post, but a seven year old is sitting on my lap at the same time. When he grows bored of watching me type with one hand, I have a five year old waiting on deck, with his pillow in hand.

I was only awakened once last night. Thank you Jesus. In addition, I forced the need to get up to go to the bathroom into the morning hour when the sun is actually up. That helped too.

The bed is propped up and the humidifier is raging. This should help the sick young man. The mom took drug medicine and should drift into a deep sleep soon. The fifteen year old is stalking friends on Facebook in hopes of making grand plans for the day. That should make her world more tolerable, and I just shimmied down my email list and narrowed the length from 30 to 6. I feel much better.

My white tile floor is marked with wet paws, the laundry piles are stacked neatly on the dining room table and not resting in their respectable drawers, and wet towels litter my bathroom floor. Perhaps when my mom and son feel better, and the weekend arrives, I'll have time to approach the needs of my home.

Or not.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Short Order Cook and More

I feel as though my resume needs adjusting. Although, I am not in a position to need an adjusted resume being that I posses a full-time job, that I intend to keep, nonetheless, I have some added skills that should be noticed.

Being a mom has given me the uncanny ability to acquire skills I never knew I was capable of possessing.

I frustrate at times at the way small people bark orders at me while I stand in the kitchen. I, am a short order cook.

The sound works on the computer, but the screen is blank. After some plug readjustment and some button pushing, the full color picture emerges, and I, am a computer repair person.

The washer fluid in my car has gone dry, and the bug to glass ratio has increased enough to cloud my vision. I pop the hood of my car, and fill the reservoir with washer fluid. I am a gas station attendant.

My daughters new shorts are slightly long and resemble culottes as opposed to shorts. I drag out the circa 1962 sewing machine and alter the length. I am a seamstress.

What new skill will I be forced to acquire in these days of motherhood? One will soon discover.

What new skill have you acquired?

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Sunday Thoughts

"If the pace and the push, the noise and the crowds are getting to you, it's time to stop the nonsense and find a place of solace to refresh your spirit."

Intimacy with the Almighty
Charles Swindoll

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Old Videos and Scripture

My son decided to pull the video Aladdin from our archived collection, circa mid-nineties, and indulge himself in some reminiscing. Awesome.

I sit here at the computer with my ears close enough to hear the dialog and songs. I am amazed at how many words I recognize from the movie, and how many words of the song I can still repeat as a result of seeing the movie numerous amounts of times.

I want God's Word to stick in my memory like an old movie I've watched over and over again. I want His Word's to be etched in my memory and to stick like glue. I want someone to begin the first words of a scripture, and be able to finish the verse from memory.

This comes from repeating verses over and over again. Filling our minds with scripture is so important. It is our best and greatest defense against the enemy and the lies he feeds our minds.

I love writing verses on sticky notes and putting in places I visit often. This is my favoirte tool for memorizing scripture. The sticky note in front of me now is a verse found in Ephesians 6:10-11.

"Be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes."

I need God's Word. I need to be armed. I need His promises. I need Him.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Dog's Life

We adopted a dog. I already posted about that though.

She is black, a lab, and very affectionate. Did I tell you that?

I have now discovered that she is a very picky eater. That is new.

When she first arrived, I diligently drove to the pet store and bought the appropriate food. She ate one bowl full and then snubbed her nose the rest of times I tried to fill her bowl. Only after I laced the food with olive oil, did she devour the bowl's contents and wait for more. I know well enough that dogs shouldn't eat olive oil at every meal that I drove to the pet store in hopes of finding some other food that suited her taste buds. As if I have nothing else to do in my day.

The next purchase of dog food was a combination of chicken, rice, oatmeal, and other delicacies. Once again, she devoured the first bowl, the second bowl, the third bowl, and then stopped. She refused to eat for 24 hours.

Again, I journeyed to the pet store, this time confused and needing answers in regards to my finicky friend.

"It is a myth that dogs will eat anything." The helpful cashier told me. "The duck and potato combination is our most popular food and a topper of wet food would work well."

I left the pet store with a small bag of potato and duck dry dog food, and a can of potato and duck wet dog food.

After concocting a perfect blend of the wet and dry food, I set the bowl down and Cali gorged on the contents in the bowl. I smiled. Potato and duck was a success.

Half a bag and three cans later, our dog has once again stopped eating. I cannot be bothered with tying to figure out what combination of food will meet the needs of a dog's appetite.

I am dumbfounded actually, and frustrated. I can't understand how a dog, that was rescued from a shelter in L.A. where she was fed who knows what food and slept on cold cement, can snub her nose at potato and duck dog food now, after loving it for the first three bowls.

I am not, I repeat, not, going to try another food. She'll just have to learn to love potatoes mixed with duck or starve.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Do I Know You?

There is nothing more frustrating than seeing someone at church, school, _______, and 1. not knowing their name, and 2. not remembering how you know them, from whence they came prior to school, church, ___________.

Agree?

There is also, nothing more annoying than seeing someone that you have met/seen before, and they pretend like they do not know who you are.

This happened to me twice in the past two days with the same person. Mind you, this is someone who's office I have sat in and had a discussion with. The discussion was budget and numbers related, so I would not completely rule out mental and emotional disconnect during the entire conversation, however, I cannot rule out the fact that the conversation lasted 10 minutes, and said person was doing most of the jabber. I would be the one diconnecting. Math and I don't play well together.

I have determined that the ignorer is either insecure, doesn't like me and chooses to ignore me, or I have an extremely forgettable face. None of which would surprise me.

I, being the people pleaser, have battled with the fact that I did, or said, something to this person which has caused them to ignore me out of pure dislike. That's fine, however, given the little amount of time we have spent together, I find it highly unlikely.

I'm going with insecure. I will throw in some introversion also, but I am leaving it at that.

Some people ignore others. That is just a basic fact that need to accept.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Kid Speak

Like all moms, I know the language of my children. Mispronounced words are easily deciphered, I can figure out incorrect pronoun usage, and can also interpret incorrect words in incorrect places in a sentence.

"Mom, Grandma carved her wheel today at Burger King."

This means that Grandma accidentally hit the curb with her tire while they were driving through Burger King.

"I need high heel socks for baseball."

My son was telling me that he needs knee high socks for baseball.

"Can Windex clean a bee?"

Will spraying Windex on a bee that is flying in the house, both kill and clean it?

We are all talented mothers. Deciphering Kid speak is our gift.