A Week of Vacation Highlights

Well, I'm back from a week of vacation. For us, that usually means visiting everyone related to us. For me personally, it always means spending time with my Mama, whom I love. Here's the lowdown, starting with the bad and ending with the best --

THE BAD:

This particular week was a difficult one for me. Because I am transitioning between medicines, I am basically your Run-of-the-Mill Wack Job. No kidding. I cry at everything (I never cry). I get upset over the most ridiculous things. I pick fights with my husband. I complain over why I can never be the winner in arguments with my teenagers.

Like that's ever going to happen!

I also dealt with a migraine that came and went the entire week. Thankfully, it's gone, and good riddance. Thank you Jesus -- seriously, for healing!

I think the most upsetting thing was a family situation that everyone accepts -- except for me, the truth-teller prophet among my family members. Talk about crying in the wilderness. Jeesh. I want a different gift, please, God. . .

Wah, wah, wah. Somebody call the Wah-mbulance. I need to get over myself.

BUT AS ALWAYS, THE GOOD:

The highlight was dinner with my sister-in-law, whom I love. She's Korean, and I've always enjoyed spending time with her. It was very good for both of us.

AND THE HIGHLIGHT TO END ALL HIGHLIGHTS:

The Greene County Fair.

For those Buckeyes among us, "Now that's what I'm talkin about."

Every summer that we can, we try and go to Ohio for this fair. When the idea that we might make a trip this year, my girls all screamed in delight: "The fair! The fair!"

I can remember pulling 3 little toddlers along in a Radio Flyer wagon at the Greene County Fair. After the wagon days, it was a wagon + stroller for the extra two that came along. One year, a photographer from the Xenia Gazette even took photos of the girls with some Greene County Sheriff's exhibit, and they were in the paper!

I indulged greatly:

1. One large cup greasy french fries with salt and vinegar from a spray bottle;
2. One very big Diet Pepsi. I caved as there was no Diet Coke.
3. One leftover sugar waffle (I always buy my mom a bag of five);
4. One genuine Bob Evans sausage pattie sandwich with mustard.
5. One funnel cake still warm.

My girls all played the cane game that has been there since I was a baby -- about 50 years now. Talk about a long-running thing. That cane guy must be really old. We came home with five canes.

We spent ungodly amounts of money on ride tickets and greasy, bad-for-you, absolutely delicious fair food. I got to see the 4-H sewing and craft exhibits. I saw the First Prize winning home grown carrots, which looked identical to the non-first-prize-winning carrots. I saw the biggest head of Kale I think I've ever seen. I saw antique teacups and the Grange building. I saw millions of rabbits in cages and some goats and sheep. I heard the auctioneer calling for bids on 4-H hogs. Barbie and JB competed in a Karaoke contest that featured about 75 versions of Taylor Swift's "Our Song." We got popcorn for free from my parent's church booth. I saw harness racing and sulkies on the big race track. I even got a compliment on my new tank top as we paid our $5 to get in.

Wow. What a week.

The things that uplift the spirit and soul aren't always straight from scripture. Sometimes they are provided by God -- via the Greene County Fair. Hallalujah and amen.

xoxox

Grandma Goldie

This is my grandma, Goldie Archer.

This is the one of the bible verses she lived out:

11 Smart people know how to hold their tongue; their grandeur is to forgive and forget.

(Proverbs 19:11, The Message)

My Grandma always said that if you couldn't say anything nice, then you shouldn't say anything at all. And when she couldn't, she didn't.

She did this this despite the fact that she lost her mother at age 3, and even after her father remarried and had more children, she was expected to be the "the boy" on the farm where they lived.

She did this despite the fact that her husband was a drunk who couldn't keep a job. She did this after she divorced him in the early 1940's, when you didn't do that, and you especially didn't do that in a small town where people talked.

She did this despite the fact that when her landlord and companion of many years (basically, her common-law husband) died, she was evicted from her home by this man's sister and other family. She never spoke a cross word against them.

She did this despite the fact that the rope factory where she worked for 20+ years gave her less than $100/month as a pension when she finally retired. She never spoke much about the rope factory at all.

She did this despite the fact that when she moved in with us to help my mother after my dad died, I would always leave the blender in the sink after I made a milkshake. I would never clean it up, and that drove her crazy. I was about 12 and she was in her late 50's.

My Grandma was a soft person. She could have been very bitter and hard from the way her life went, and yet she wasn't that way at all. She read her bible daily, and joked with my husband about how she was a Baptist and he was Church of Christ and he was never going to convert her.

After she retired from the rope factory, she worked as a housekeeper and nanny to two different families, who both loved her dearly. She finally retired in her mid 70's to an assisted living complex where they took good care of her.

She would have been 99 this past July 1. She left us for heaven on March 23, 2001, at age 91.

My Grandma Goldie was amazing. Her middle name was Marie, and that name is a form of Mary, which basically means "bitter." Goldie's life was full of bitter circumstances.

But she never let them make her bitter. Quite the contrary -- she wasn't sweet -- but soft, having a soft answer, or a wry, funny comment. She didn't raise her voice, and she was very kind. She was someone I didn't just love. I admired her.

She was a wonderful example to me. She was an even more wonderful example to my mother. My mother claims she could get at least three peanut butter sandwiches from an empty peanut butter jar.

And of course my mother hung the moon and is right up there with God and Jesus, so that right there should tell you a lot about Goldie. Her grandeur was amazing.

Lord, please make me worthy of my heritage and thank you for giving me Grandma Goldie as such an example of You in my life.

xoxox

Sliding into Home Base

My brother wrote to me recently from Iraq. He said this:

I read something once that said:

"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming... "Wow! What a ride!"

I love the picture in my mind that I see when I read these words. It makes me think of the apostle Paul, who said these words in Philippians 3:

17-19 Stick with me, friends. Keep track of those you see running this same course, headed for this same goal. There are many out there taking other paths, choosing other goals, and trying to get you to go along with them. I've warned you of them many times; sadly, I'm having to do it again. All they want is easy street. They hate Christ's Cross. But easy street is a dead-end street. Those who live there make their bellies their gods; belches are their praise; all they can think of is their appetites.

20-21 But there's far more to life for us. We're citizens of high heaven! We're waiting the arrival of the Savior, the Master, Jesus Christ, who will transform our earthy bodies into glorious bodies like his own. He'll make us beautiful and whole with the same powerful skill by which he is putting everything as it should be, under and around him.

We're right there with him, running this race, jogging the marathon, ready to jump and land flat on our bellies as we slide toward the finish line, bruised, aching, tired, old, probably with a black eye, filthy, ragged, and proclaiming "Wah-hoo! What a ride!"

I personally need to remember this when I'm so focused in on my very small life, in my very small town, and my very small issues, only growing narrower and narrower in my view. This abundant life is a glorious ride! It is designed specifically to wear you out and use you up! Go for it!

xoxoxoxox

Home

I've been gone over a week -- I had a birthday last Tuesday (a rather big one), and Hunk O Man surprised me with a week-long visit up north to Indianapolis. I saw precious friends, gave hugs and kisses, rubbed noses with two sweet little girls to whom I am Auntie J, ate and drank my favourites, shopped a little, visited a lot, and relaxed. I didn't hurry, I didn't worry much about home -- I just began the next century of my life quietly and easily, and in the company of people I love. And in a place that has always felt more like home than any other place.

In a word -- it was wonderful!

And now I'm home again doing laundry and cleaning the kitchen. Hunk O Man has a birthday next week, and what with Father's Day, he decided to buy himself an Imax Theater for the living room.

Well, not really. I think it's only something like 50 or 52 inches.

The previous tv in there was at the point where you had to hit the side of it to get the picture to straighten itself out, so I didn't flinch when he bought this Imax. JB hooked it up and now the only problem is that there's no HD yet. Something about cords and boxes and the like. Also something about it needing to be fixed and eyes looking my direction.

I've been reading in Ephesians and just began Philippians, my favourite book -- and Paul often says "I thank my God for you." I love these verses because I thank my God so often for the friends I saw recently. And I thank Him for my family as well. Sometimes you get to have such a perfect week, or day, or moment, and you just think 'ok Lord, that's it, I've experienced it all and I'm ready to go.'

But we don't go, because there's still so much work to be done. My neighbors still aren't settled into a real ongoing relationship with Jesus. My kids aren't raised all the way yet. My husband's ministry isn't finished yet, and so neither is mine, since mine is to minister to him while he ministers to others.

So it's back to real life, and real work, and the realities of my relationship with the most important one, Jesus. On with the next half century. I'm armed with the Message and ready!

xoxoxox

June 9-14: The Wesner Week in Review

Proud Grandma, Rose, Bug, and Proud Pappy

Happy girls, just graduated!

Hunk O Man, Rose, Bug, and Me

The grads and those beautiful sisters of theirs:

Babydoll, Rose, Bug, JB, and Barbie

Surprise visit from my sister K

** ~~ ** ~~ ** ~~ ** ~~ ** ~~ **

No, I have not died and the hogs have not eaten me.

(Thank God!)

That's what Hunk O Man always says when someone's been gone a long time; "hey, we thought you died and the hogs ate you!" Just to clarify: we have never lived on a farm, nor have we ever raised hogs or swine of any sort. And nobody has died. It's just been really busy around here -- crazy busy, if you know what I mean!

xoxox

Divine Vitamin D

Psalm 121

A Pilgrim Song

1-2 I look up to the mountains; does my strength come from mountains?
No, my strength comes from God,
who made heaven, and earth, and mountains.

3-4 He won't let you stumble,
your Guardian God won't fall asleep.
Not on your life! Israel's
Guardian will never doze or sleep.

5-6 God's your Guardian,
right at your side to protect you—
Shielding you from sunstroke,
sheltering you from moonstroke.

7-8 God guards you from every evil,
he guards your very life.
He guards you when you leave and when you return,
he guards you now, he guards you always.

I read this just now, this morning, and am reminded of God's goodness to me lately. So many of my prayers have been answered -- little things, really. But they seem like big things at the time. We have switched from our home phone to all having cell phones -- all 7 of us -- which seemingly couldn't be done. I have a job. Virtually all of our girls now have jobs as well -- one at Lowe's hardware, one at a local shop in the mall, one in fast food, one mowing lawns, one babysitting. We sold our lot that had been on the market for 3 years. The grandparents are choosing (in their usual gracious fashion) to be more than generous with the twins in helping with college. There is money for a new roof, and we are not in debt.

Life is just good right now. It's like being able to take a long, deep breath after feeling constricted and asthmatic for a long time.

So this Psalm sounds kind of like a lullaby to me. It's a reminder to me that no matter how I try and work out my individual life circumstances -- things that really make no difference in the eternal scope of things -- my help will still come from not the mountains, but the One who made the mountains. He never goes to sleep, never stops listening, never leaves my right side to guard me from harm, never even lets me get sunburned.

What a love! Do yourself a great favour and bask in it today with me --

xoxox

But Enough About Me. Let's Talk About You. What Do You Think of Me?

Let me just share a couple of things about myself today. Things I thought you might want to know.

First of all, I have the highest degree possible to attain in the ancient art of Wei-Ning. I know! Impressive, isn't it? I started when I was just a baby, and as of now I'm not only an expert, I have BEEN an expert for most of my life. Just ask my mother.

Wei-Ning? (It's pronounced "Why-ning").

Secondly, I am an excellent mother and I take no nonsense. Here's an example: the twins were 5, Barbie was 4, JB was 2, and Babydoll was 1. I was completely fed up with the mess everywhere. Nobody would help, nobody would put toys away, it was a mess. And of course that was during the crazy-without-drugs days, so I threw a fit. I yelled. I ranted. And I said this: "If you're going to act like pigs, I'm going to treat you like pigs!"

Lunch in those days consisted of PB&J (half sandwich cut in a triangle), a container of yogurt, and some fruit. So in keeping with "treating them like pigs," I fixed everyones plate and set it on the wood floor in the kitchen. 'Fine!' I thought. 'Eat like pigs!'

If you are -- or ever have been -- the mother of a toddler (or several toddlers), you know that this was not at all a punishment. It was rather, a picnic. They were thrilled that I would let them eat off the floor. I can see the thoughts even now running thru their tiny minds -- "No getting strapped into a chair! Wah-hooey! This rocks!"

Obviously I saw their clear enjoyment and I realised that even God was laughing at me, and likely thinking it was far past the time for me to just get over myself. This did not make me happy immediately. But pretty soon I lightened up.

There was another time in my excellent mothering career when we had lots and lots of candy in the house. I think it was probably winter -- January, I think -- when all the Halloween candy and Thanksgiving and Christmas goodies had just piled up. So one night, I was very tired, and it was Sunday night after church, and everyone was looking at me for dinner.

I put all the candy in the center of the table and told them to have at it. That was dinner.

See? I told you I was the best mom. Just ask my kids.

I am missing them all terribly today. True to my utmost degree in Wei-Ning, I cannot be made happy. I am tired of the bickering and constant noise when they are here, and I need a break. Then when three or four of them leave, I miss them terribly.

It's hard to be me. Truly. Let the violins begin.

Hunk O Man, Rose, Bug, and Barbie have been gone on a trip to visit colleges since Tuesday morning. They've had a great time, laughing and seeing people. I've spoken to them every day. The prospects at every school so far are very good.

They'll be home tomorrow, and I can't wait. I do miss them. It's entirely too quiet around here. The dishes take no time at all. There's no laundry. The TV is never on, and the dog is stalking me for lack of people to greet and see. Bleah. Even JB and Babydoll miss them.

Are they home yet?

xox

Tradition!

BLOGGY GIVEAWAY IS BELOW! KEEP SCROLLING!

I suppose it is no consequence that our local theatre company is doing this right now.

Hunk O Man and I had our annual "what's happening for the holidays" discussion last Friday, during our Friday date. We have lunch every Friday so we can have an actual conversation. Friday is his day off.

So here's the deal: I can count on one hand the amount of times I've spent Christmas morning somewhere other than my parents' house. I have always been a stickler for going home for Christmas.

I am a stick in the mud when it comes to tradition. Some things just need to be done a certain way. All my married life, even when I lived at the other end of the country, I figured out a way for us to spend Christmas with my parents.

But last year, I vowed we would start our own tradition. It's high time, I thought, that I should be the one making the noodles and pumpkin pie. The girls are getting to the age where they'll be leaving home soon, and I want them to always come home for Christmas if possible. So I thought 'ok, I'll bite the bullet and make a new tradition.'

I was resolved. My mind was made up.

When I asked Rose recently what she'd like to do for Christmas, she said this:

"Well, if we stay here that's fine.

But it's just not Christmas unless we have it at Grandma and Pappy's house."

Hmph.

So over lunch last Friday, Hunk O Man said,

"I think I can work out vacation time to travel this Christmas."

OK. I give!

And here's the deal:

1. I already created the tradition. I've always said it shouldn't be changed.

2. Grandma and Pappy won't always be here.

We should go to them as long as we can.

3. When we head north, we can see Hunk O Man's mama as well.

4. I've been outvoted six to one.

So here's to tradition! We're traveling this year. Again.

(hooray! Don't tell anybody I said that, ok?)

xox

A Bit of a Quandry

You know, I go back and forth.

I just finished cleaning up the kitchen. This included gathering all the leftover dishes in the family room -- along with all the various pieces of clothing and single socks and paper and trash. Wrappers, junk mail, that sort of thing.

It also included putting the remains of a cake the size of Texas into a plastic container and then walking out to the trash thingy to throw the massive cardboard container away. The cake was leftover from a church thing on Sunday.

It took about 30-35 minutes total to clean all that up and load the dishwasher and wash the dishes that 1-came out of the dishwasher still with stuff on them because my girls can't understand that you should scrape off the "big chunks," and 2-because sometimes it's not worth trying to load everything into the dishwasher, and some things I just wash by hand, like wooden handled things and pots and pans.

ANYWAY -- it's really pretty easy for me to get that stuff done in the mornings. While I hate waking up to a kitchen that needs cleaning, I do have the time to do it. The house is my area -- my responsibility in the family is to keep it running smoothly and keep it relatively clean. Doing these things keeps me from being really lazy.

I use the term "relatively" very loosely when combined with the term "clean."

The girls have chores, and they are required to do them because they live here. When you live somewhere, you get to share in the upkeep of the place in which you live.

We only have 3 major chores -- those being "Kitchen," "Floors," and "Baths." Obviously the floors are just sweeping and mopping, and bath is making sure the bathrooms are clean.

In my mind, these are simple things. While it took me 35 minutes to clean up the kitchen this morning, it would likely take two people half that time. And they'd enjoy some company while doing it. Many hands make light work and all that.

The other things go pretty quickly too. We have hardwood floors in the entire downstairs, so the only thing you have to vacuum is the area run in the family room. I have Swiffers -- the vac and the mop -- for the rest. It goes pretty fast.

All this to say that really -- none of this stuff takes very long to do.

My children aren't little anymore. They are teenagers on their way out into the world. They've had chores all their lives. They know what it means to contribute to a family. They will soon learn that when they don't pick up after themselves, no one else will. They keep their rooms pretty clean. They are also very busy people with sports, jobs, friends, school.

I, on the other hand, am home all day. I have time to do the chores. And it's really my job ultimately anyway. I don't want to be treated like the maid, but I don't want to overburden everyone else either.

So here's the quandry: should we just throw the chores out the window and be done with all the haggling over who hasn't done theirs?

Or should we keep them in the name of making sure everyone knows that they have a role in the keeping up of our household?

I'm interested to know what you think.

Getting Older and A Little Story

It's a pain getting older.

I am reading a book recommended by my good friend Gayle: "What Your Doctor May Not Tell You About Menopause." I stopped by the health food store yesterday and picked up Wild Yam Cream, a multivitamin chock full of good stuff that will help my adrenal glands, and some calcium with magnesium. Apparently when your adrenals are working well, it alleviates most other bothersome things -- like allergies, fatigue, etc.

Now I'm only 49 -- ONLY 49? Ten years ago I thought that was old. Now I feel very young. My doctor recently commented "age is only a chronological designation." Thank goodness for some reassurance that I'm truly, truly not getting old.

My body is just aging.

My Mama, who is 70 this year, just had an excellent health checkup because she is taking care of herself. She is really very healthy, despite a pacemaker and being a cancer survivor. My Mama is one of the most occupied -- not really busy, but always doing something -- people I know. She helps at her local church's preschool, teaches a bible study, and can look into my fridge at any given moment and produce a 3 course dinner. She even spent a week once going over and helping out a new mom -- a young girl from her church! Pretty amazing.

Just to tease her recently about her pacemaker (and because she is always doing something), I said this to her:

"Mom, you are one of the laziest people I know. Can't even get your heart to beat!"

We had a good laugh about that one. And she is a good example to me -- because now it's also me that's dealing with high cholesterol, blood pressure, and weight. I am no longer the cute young thing that has most of her life ahead of her.

That person would be any one of my daughters!

Speaking of which, one is having a birthday today. I am no longer the mother of anything except teenagers.

We tried for 3.5 years to get pregnant with the twins. And then we had not just one, but two! Barbie came on their heels just 15 months later (we didn't know if it would take another 3 years, so we started trying right away). Then, two years after her, came JB.

Now JB was the last baby. We agreed. Hunk O Man asked me if I wanted to permanently remedy the situation with additional surgery when I had my c-section to have JB. I declined; I had climbed on enough tables and had enough injections to make my body work right. I didn't want to purposely make it work "wrong."

So we, having had to work so hard to get pregnant the first time, opted for the stupid method. We just watched the calendar. Because when it takes all the work to get pregnant the first time, you can never be surprised.

Uh huh. Right.

I remember that unlike the other girls, I didn't tell Hunk O Man I was pregnant until I was almost 3 months+ along. We went on vacation and I kept waiting for the right moment -- which really just never came.

I was out to dinner with my girlfriends one night, and I asked "Have you ever done something really stupid that you don't know how to tell your husband about? Like wreck the car, or run up a bunch of bills on the credit card?"

My best friend Chari looked right at me and said "What have you done?"

I paused, gulped, and then spilled. And then I realised that I couldn't have my girlfriends knowing what Hunk O Man didn't know. So I told him when I got home. Crying, sad, apologising all the while.

And 3 weeks after she was born, Hunk O Man went and permanently took care of the situation. His philosophy was that minivans only hold 7 people on average. So that was that.

Her name wasn't decided until I was leaving the hospital and had to decide. And because she was a little surprise, her first name is the same as JB's middle name. Her middle name is the name we'd chosen if we ever had a boy.

God just sometimes has different plans than we do. And sometimes they completely delight you, like our Babydoll.

The Thursday Lineup

1. On the Migraine front: it's pretty well gone although it took until yesterday to be gone completely. A migraine is like a runaway train -- I had it on the tracks by Monday, but it was a struggle keeping it there until yesterday. Lots of ibuprofen and sudafed and caffeine. Surprising, a combination that usually works for me. Ah, the lack of a migraine . . .


2. On the Tennis Front: Rose won! She beat the conference champ in a nail-biting tiebreaker by just 2 points. We had conference matches all day yesterday. I watched until I had to leave for play practice -- with my first sunburn of the year! Rose will probably meet this same girl, Niechelle, in regionals next weekend. Hunk O Man came in and said "This was the best match IN THE WORLD!" Both are excellent players and regionals should be very interesting. Our local sports guy even interviewed the "3 Sisters of Tennis." We'll probably see that footage tonight. What is it with kids that they're not impressed about being on tv anymore? Ah, the video age . . .


3. On the Broken Camcorder Front: and we will have video footage of regionals because -- hooray! -- our camcorder is fixed! It broke late last year when Barbie knocked it off the tripod and it fell, damaging something inside. Turns out that thing that was damaged was going bad in all the cameras of that type, so all you had to do was send it in and get it fixed. I did that, and got it back yesterday -- too late for conference tennis, but in time for Babydoll's birthday tomorrow and regionals next weekend. Ah, free is always so good . . .


3. On the Play Practice for Peter Pan Front: All is going well and Babydoll is an excellent Wendy -- who got measured for her "flying" harness last night. We had choreography and we learned to waltz. Ah, dancing with an 8-year old, a thing not to be missed in one's lifetime . . .


4. On the Saving Money front -- I gave the dog a haircut last weekend -- he kind of looks as if I used a lawnmower to do it. Oh well! It saved us $35 for grooming, and I also cleaned out his ears and de-flea-ed him. He was very patient. Ah, good dog . . .

5. On the Project Front: I also got this done --





I'm not sure if I'm going to post it for sale on Etsy or just keep it for the upcoming craft show sponsored by our local Arts Council -- but I'm working on another, and have to get a wedding gown hemmed and a halloween costume done for a one-year old. Ah, the sewing I have to do . . .



6. On the PR Dishing Front: Ok, so here's the scoop -- Kenley's in -- with this strange and wonderful fairytale wedding gown -- Barbie's comment was "OMG, it's the swan dress reincarnated!" I think she meant the one that Bjork wore to the Oscars one year --







and Jerrell is out! The top three competing for the big prize are Kenley, LeAnn, and Korto. LeAnn has already won in my mind -- her pieces are just gorgeous.



And just so we're clear -- what goes around comes around. Jerrell and Korto, the two responsible for the most sniping at Kenley last week, were both on the chopping block. Ah, the justice that comes when you least expect it . . .

7. On the Wistfully Sad but Good Front: The big birthday bash is tomorrow -- my baby turns 13! As of tomorrow I will no longer have anything but teenagers for children -- Ah, how times flies. Sniff sniff. . .

No PR Dishing This Week

I've had an awful time with my internet connection this week. And PR was kind of blah -- the only real dishing I can do is to say that Kenley's "skinny jeans" should have been wide-leg 40's trousers. The designers (only 4 left at this point) were given a musical genre and told to dress each other in outfits that reflected said respective genre. In a word, yech. You can find photos and more info at their website.

On Top Design, they decorated bachelor pads and Shazia is out. I wasn't impressed with any of it. Maybe I've been having an off week! Same thing here -- you can find more info at their website.

The Marco Polos are descending upon us tonight for pizza and a movie. I doubt much movie-watching will get done -- these kids are so ADD that they end up doing about 500 other things while the movie is on. But Bruce Wayne has apparently been asking for my pizza for a few weeks now.

There is no finer compliment to one's cooking than to have a teenage friend of your teenager asking for it.

So I'll be making lots of pizza tonight. I've been cleaning up the kitchen to spare Rose lately; she's had tennis and projects and all sorts of stuff going on. It's felt good to me, actually. As much as I hate routine, I rather like getting in there and cleaning up and feeling both a sense of control and accomplishment.

And yesterday, amid my regular daily stuff, I got to switch out a mac keyboard on Babydoll's laptop. Whoever said that being a mom was monotonous and required no skill?

xox

P.S. I made cookies yesterday, and ate least 20 of them myself (why say it was only 10 when we all know I was grabbing 3 at a time at least 5 or 6 times?). I sabotaged myself knowing full well that having a "down" day today (and not eating) would not change anything. And this bingeing after a visit to a new primary doc, where the labs revealed that my triclycerides are over 300! Good grief! How did that happen? I am ordered back to the pool for exercise -- and I am hanging my head in shame. It is a PAIN getting older!

Beautiful Girls in Beautiful Dresses

HOMECOMING 2008

I was manning the concession booth at the football game while all this beauty was happening!

Rose and JB

Barbie, looking gorgeous --

Kisses! JB's lips are the envy of all. And she's the one without the escort to the dance!

Rose and The Boyfriend, who comes home every weekend from college because he's so over-the-moon over her! And she over him!

JB and lipgloss. From the looks of this photo, it's anyone's guess how she got those gorgeous lips above.

This girl even makes braces look good!

After all that homecoming dress drama, it always turns out well. I continue to be amazed at the absolute gorgeousness of my daughters . . .

Heard Just Now from the Other Room

Barbie, (who's in the kitchen and popping in and out of the bedroom to ask how you make dump cake, is this enough butter, can I use two cans of cherry pie filling, etc):
"JB! Get in here and clean the kitchen!"

JB, in a small voice: "I'm right here, why do you have to talk to me like that? Sniff sniff"

We all know JB is not phased at all by Barbie's yelling. It is just funny.

Barbie: "JB WHAT have you done to the computer? It is so slow!"
JB: "I'm downloading Maple Story! Don't click! No clicking!"
Barbie: "WHY do you have to play that stupid game?"
JB: "Do not click! No clicking! You'll make it freeze up!"
Barbie: "Well I'm clicking because you've already had your hour."
JB, from the kitchen: "I did not have my hour! I was downloading."
Barbie: "Did too!"
JB: "Did not."
Barbie: "Did TOO."
JB: "Did NOT!"
Barbie: "DID TOO!"

Hunk O Man: "We need to leave in about 15 minutes, girls."
Babydoll: "For what?"
Hunk O Man: "The Church picnic. It'll be tons of fun."
Babydoll: "Why was I not notified of this church picnic?"
JB: "Dad, it's freezing outside. Why are we going to a church picnic?"
Barbie: "DID TOO!"

Then nothing for a few seconds.

Then . . .

JB, singing: "Why can't we be friends, why can't we be friends, why can't we be friends, why can't we be friends?"

Me: falling on the floor with laughter.

Thank you, God, for giving me this hilariously nutzoid family. What a crew!

Randomness

As if the last couple of posts haven't been random enough!

1. I am sad today. I am pms-ing, which we refer to around here (and there is PL-ENTY around here) as generally crabby, irritable, and blue. My poor husband may have to run away. The girls are having the usual drama with the need for school supplies at 10PM, the need for an unwashed tennis top 10 minutes prior to leaving for the match (black top lost on the black floor), papers for school having to be signed at 11PM, and nobody apparently having the time to clean up the kitchen -- too much tv watching, phone conversing, and computer-game-playing to do.

2. I saw a tutorial on how to make my eyes look bigger. You take this white crayon or pencil and line the inside bottom of your eyelids with it. It makes the whites of your eyes look bigger. I definitely need a hypoallergenic crayon (the little pencils are too small and sharp for me) so my eyes will quit watering, but I do like the effect.

3. My Mama's birthday was last week, the 20th. She was 70, the big 7-0. If you ask her she'll tell you how old she is because she really doesn't care if you know. She's not all caught up in age and beauty and all that. She is rather instead caught up in Beth Moore bible study and the service to others. She serves as a helper/teacher's aide at her church's weekly preschool, which probably either began this week or will next. The kids LOVE her. And I know why.

My husband has a fabulous, extremely uncommon relationship with my mom. He calls her MIL and emails her more frequently than I do (and she's my best friend). I recently told him to get his own mom. Actually, he calls his own mama every Sunday night.

My Mama has always been my role model and my ideal person. She becomes more so the older she gets. She has never really put much stock into the way one looks or appearance in general. This is not to say she doesn't care about how she looks -- she just doesn't put enormous amounts of time into it. For example, she wants a great haircut. So she gets her hair cut and if it's a great cut, she's happy. If it's not, her attitude is generally "well, it's just hair, and it will grow, and there's always next time." I have always said that you could lock my mom in a closet for a year and she'd come out talking about how nice and quiet it was. She always has taken the drama in our family at the point of change; never dwelling on the problem or what caused it, or what its consequences should be, but rather the way to start from this point and fix it. I like that. I tend to want to beat myself and others up for the mistake -- my mom says, well, everybody makes them, and so now what do we do about it?

My Mama has her flaws, and I know what they are. But I don't care. Just the fact that God gave her to me as my mom assures me of many things in the Bible that otherwise, I would just have to take on faith.

So while I'm sure some of your convinced that your mom is the best, I must beg to differ. She just can't compare to mine. Nobody can dish about Project Runway with me like my Mama.

Happy Birthday, Veda.

Thanks for being the best Mom there ever was. Hope I can be as good a one as you.

It's a Schoolish Sort of Day

Sssshhhhh! Babydoll and Bug are taking their end-of-year tests.

Hunk O Man is administering these tests, because he has a Bachelor's degree and I do not. When I explained that apparently he knows more about doing these tests than I do, he laughed. I took that as a nice compliment. Which I needed, after a heart-to-heart with one of my teenagers about where her life and priorities are versus where I think they should be.

I am also doing Bug's transcripts so she can return to high school for her senior year (after coming home and completing her junior year as homeschooling as of April). I'm glad she's doing this; she'll graduate with her twin sister Rose, and that's important. There are a lot of things that happen your senior year in a high school that are so common to us as Americans that I think they really shouldn't be missed.

I spent the day shopping with Bunny yesterday. She is a riot. I always enjoy her company. I made her promise she would always come home and shop with me for Christmas, wherever her life takes her. I think there may be airline tickets in her future.

I've spent a lot of time with people this week, and that has worn me out. But it's good! Monday, I took Ms. Myrtle to her doctor's appointment and heard all about her life. She narrated to me the years of five children and five husbands, and working and living in NC and FL. It took her mind off a potential procedure she was to have, that was uncomfortable. Turns out she didn't need it after all! I got lunch for she and Wiley and I at Chick-fil-a and she nearly had a fit trying to pay me for it. I was having none of it. I won that one.

The next day, Tuesday, I drove them both to Rocky Mount to have Wiley's dental work done. I was at their house at 6:00AM -- a true departure for me, as I'm normally up around 8, but I was glad to do it because they are such dears. We drove down, had breakfast at Hardee's (GREAT chicken biscuit, by the way!), and once again we befuddled the poor cashier by Ms. Myrtle attempting to pay for my breakfast and me refusing. I won that one too.

And then yesterday, I met Ms. Nancy (church secretary and unofficial associate pastor, person who knows everything and everybody and everything about everybody, and general person who runs the church) for coffee at Starbucks. She gave me a Starbucks card and said "This is from Myrtle." I looked and her and sighed. She immediately said, in her soft, southern drawl, "You know you can't do anything with her." I laughed. She's right. You just can't.

Yesterday Babydoll and I rode over to Ms. Myrtle's and had a brief visit. She was glad to see Babydoll and insisted they go out to lunch once school starts. I think that they will find no lack of things to talk about. Ms. Myrtle mentioned that she hoped I had enjoyed my coffee that morning with Ms. Nancy. Talk about a small town.

Wednesday was a tennis match and more town gossip with Michelle, the tennis coach. That woman knows everyone as well, and certainly has her ear to what's happening in the town. I finally know why the bugs are so thick this year. And I have zero idea as to why the tennis courts aren't finished yet. Hmmm. It pays to know people around here.

And a wasp stung me yesterday! I have never been stung by anything other than a sweat bee, so far as I know. These things hurt! It seems I can't go outside for five minutes without getting bitten or stung by something. If only squirrels ate bugs, we'd be in business. The girls constantly scream about all the spiders -- but I like them. They eat the bugs. Perhaps this is why I've never been much of a gardener. Flying, stinging, biting bugs. True definitions for the word "pest."

So it's a low-key day, and Hunk O Man wants me to listen to something called "Straight from the Mouth of a Pastor's Kid" from "Defining Moments," which is an audio journal from the Willow Creek Association. I am hopeful that it will shed some light on my relationship with my girls. I'll let you know --

So it's back to normality here, and possibly a giveaway in the near future --

So What's on Your Fridge?

I think a fridge can say a lot about a family. I'm curious to know what's on yours.

Mine actually contains some truly fantastical, almost magical things --

Like the amazing, invisible, color-coded Chore Chart:

The Bible Verse that Nobody Ever Sees Anymore:

The Coolest of the Cool Uncles, my brother The Droid:

The Never-ending Project List:

The Ever-Changing Grocery List:

The Magnetic Words that form Ridiculous Sentences:

Earnest T:

Hunk O Man Many (Skinnier) Years Ago:

Comic Relief:

And always, Chocolate on Top.

So what does your fridge say about you?

xox

Miracle of the Moment

I sang special music for church yesterday. I did "Miracle of the Moment" by Steven Curtis Chapman, and put together a slide show for everyone to watch. Since we only moved here 2 years ago, it's easy for everyone to forget that we really did go thru the insanity of small children underfoot all the time. So I gave them photographic evidence that it really happened --

Finally!

Finally there's something on television. And it's SPECTACULAR!

I'm sitting here watching that US Cellular commercial, seeing Mr. Cuty McCuteCute smiling yet again. The commercials are getting old, but the Olympics just keep it coming.

Hunk O Man repeated again tonight, for the zillionth time, "I love the Olympics."

We're hearing a lot of "YESSSSSSSS!" and "Stink!" "Stinkin Puke!" "Whoa!" "Ma-ah-ah-an."

He does love the Olympics. He watches everything. He called me today just to tell me that Blake upset Federer in tennis.

I was trying to get the internet connection up and going again, after endless restarts and recycles of the modem and router. And about 45 minutes on the phone with the cable company.

(I didn't really care so much at that point who won at Olympic tennis)

And then there's Michael Phelps, teenage girls drooling, and all of us shouting "No way! No way! He did it! He did it again!" to the television. We love the green "world record" line. How cool is that? All the swimmers are breaking records. I personally think that pool is really just clear blue snot and their suits are all made of oil that has coelesced onto their bodies permanently. Where else would we get the phrase "slicker than snot?"

And always entertaining: watching the swimmers adjust their goggles.

I admit I was even impressed when the Chinese girls won the gymnastics. Their tiny bodies just look so beautiful as they do those layout back flips. It's a moment when you look up at God and say "Whoa." The beauty -- it's breathtaking. Like sculpture that's come alive.

And Bela Karoli is definitely the comic relief. I honestly think they have him on just because he's good tv! Hunk O Man keeps saying "I vant to suck your blood" everytime they have him on. The man can barely stay in his seat, and I loved it when he nonchalantly commented on the underage Chinese gymnasts. Pretty hilarious.

We took a break last night and watched Project Runway. We are all addicted, even Hunk O Man.

And so here's the dish: I didn't think Kelli deserved to be out. I was much less impressed with Blayne's outfit. However, Blayne is Mr. Whine About My Fake Tan Fading and makes for better tv than Kelli, apparently. Ultimately I think Daniel should have gone right out the door with his "impeccable good taste."

This won. I like Keith, and I guess it's nice.

But I really liked this better. It was Stella and Jerrell's.

JB and Bunny LOVE PR and they have been spouting PR-ese all day. And this thanks to

"Leatha Stella:"

Non of us can stand this woman (or her designs), but it is hilarious to hear the girls talk about "leatha." Or "leathuh." Today as they cleaned the kitchen I laughed and laughed as I heard, in a perfect Brooklyn accent by JB, the endless commentary regarding the leatha dishes in the leatha dishwasher and the leatha counter and leatha sponge.

It was definitely a leatha moment.

OK, back to tonight's Olympics, and swimming. I just saw Ryan Lochte win a gold medal in backstroke.

I honestly don't think they made'em this good looking when I was a kid.

Be still my beating heart.

What an amazing week of television!

What are you watching?

They've Taken Over. Somebody Help Me.

Lord have mercy.

Makeup, toothpaste, squirt gun, hairbrush. Teenage girls have been here.

Tennis stuff everywhere. Teenage girls have been here.

Dirty dishes not done yet. Whose week is it? Teenage girls have been here.

Rock Band has overrun my living room.

HAS SCHOOL STARTED YET?