I am not so sure how this post will flow. I'm a bit concerned to be honest, because I have so many thoughts swirling in my head.
First, today is my oldest son's birthday...James Davis Taylor is 8 years old today. As I look at the clock, it was about this time 8 years ago that I went into labor. Everyone who knows him calls him "JD". I also call him "Mr. Taylor" because I have so much respect for him. For a good portion of his toddler years he was known as "Big Man" because until Jeff and I married, I considered him the man of the house. JD is a beautiful soul, he has been a pleasure to have in my life. The boy does not cause me a minute's trouble and he has so many awesome character qualities that I wish more people had, including myself.
JD is a very humble person. There are many times that he has done exceptional things, things that people would not expect of such a young man. I've heard about these things days or weeks later from others because he just isn't the type of kid to come home and brag on himself. I remember one specific occasion when I got a call from his Kindergarten teacher telling me that one of JD's classmates had been bullied in the bathroom by some much older boys. Instead of participating in the bullying or ignoring what was happening and running away, JD stayed to protect his friend. His teacher was so impressed with his courage and his judgement to so quickly make the right decision.
Just simple things like watching him participate in sports reaffirms to me what an exceptional kid he is. For one, he is quite the little gentleman, he really struggles with guarding little girls in basketball or soccer. After a game where he has been paired up against a girl he articulates in the best way he knows how, that he doesn't like to be rough or take the ball away from a girl. I watch him shyly drop his head after he scores a goal in soccer, as if hoping that not too many people noticed it was him. He never does a victory dance or proudly accepts praise and cheers with a swelling chest or head. He just has this look on his face that I recognize...as if he's saying, "Let's just move on."
JD has this really gentle way of dealing with Sydney. When she's scolded, he is the first person she cries for and I know it's just because he is so sweet to her. In his shadow, I suppose she feels protected and loved...and she truly is. JD is a brilliant mind, from a very early age he could do impressive things. His fine motor skills were way ahead of age appropriateness. He has this way of figuring things out that I can't believe a kid his age is capable of doing. He loves anything with a million pieces that needs to be put together. He loves to tinker with building and constructing, he's a whiz on the computer! I know that God has something really amazing in mind for JD and I am so excited to watch and see the type of man he will become.
But there is also another James I have been thinking about today...Jesus' brother. My pastor started a new serious today on the book of James. The sermon was about James' encouragement in dealing with trials and tribulations in our lives. In regards to the meat of the lesson, I understand that we should "consider it pure joy" to know that in our troubles, we have the opportunity to put our faith in the Lord and know that he will mature us and teach us the lessons that can be learned from such hardship.
But the one comment that Pastor Grant said that really threw me for a loop was that James did not believe his brother was the Christ until after he witnessed Jesus' resurrection. Wow! Let me just share with you my thoughts about that...
James grew up in a household of at least 4 brothers and at least 2 sisters. Jesus was the oldest of them all. As a child, I am sure that James witnessed his older brother doing some really exceptional things and because Jesus never sinned, I would assume he was a wonderful big brother. I feel certain that Jesus shared his toys and was patient with his younger siblings. I'm sure that he didn't say hurtful things or bully and tease his little brothers...I mean I would assume that Jesus would have been the best older brother that a kid could have....right?
Not to mention that James' mother and father, Mary and Joseph, had personally experienced the miracle of a virgin birth, and the prophesy of that birth from an angel who appeared to both of them individually. Then appeared to them at least once more (that the bible speaks of) when they were told to flee Bethlehem and go to Nazareth. I feel sure that Mary and Joseph were people who undoubtedly believed their son was the Messiah and surely shared that testimony with all of their children. Yet, it wasn't the miraculous testimony of his mom and dad or the witnessing of Jesus' exceptional life that won James over. It wasn't the knowledge that the Old Testament prophesies were being fulfilled by his older brother right before his eyes. It wasn't the multitude of people who flocked to Jesus or even the very public miracles he was performing. How about James' cousin, John the Baptist, who was nothing less than a Jesus-Freak and passionately shared the salvation message with everyone he came in contact with. Not to mention the personal testimony of Jesus himself who out-right admitted that He was God's son. It wasn't his unjust arrest, trial, beating, or the murder of his brother that made James realize that Jesus was God in flesh and had fulfilled all of the prophesies.
See, James did not believe that Jesus was the Messiah until he saw Jesus with his own eyes after the resurrection. I'm sure there is all kinds of details and scripture and biblical theology that I am not educated on, but it intrigues me that even our Christ could not win over his own family during His ministry before His death.
This is where I struggle to tie all of this together...
And this is where it becomes very personal...
There are people who I love more than myself, some of which I share the same DNA with, people who I would lay down my life for, I would do anything...anything for these people...family. Who I know have the awareness that Jesus is God's son, and who I know have the knowledge of what it takes to receive salvation. People who profess to know that Jesus is Lord. Good...no, great...no, WONDERFUL people...family. Yet, I have this unsettled feeling in my heart because I know that being a wonderful person will not save us from the pits of hell! Which brings me to this question...Why is it so hard to witness to the people we love the most?
Maybe it feels like I'm saying to you that your life isn't good enough. Maybe it feels like I'm placing judgement or condemning you, and that would cause hard feelings between us. Maybe because when you say "no" to me, it feels personal and I don't like feeling rejected by my loved ones. So in order to keep the conversation light and our feelings for each other warm and fuzzy, I resolve not to ask the hard questions. But what I really want to say to you is this, "What is the state of your soul? Do you know Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, and even more important, on Judgement Day will he know you? Or will you be one of the ones that he looks at with confusion and sorrow and says, 'I don't know who you are.' Do you know that you are running out of time?"
When I get to heaven, I hope to look around and see all of the faces of the people that I love. I hope not a one of them is absent, but that's not a choice I can make for them. I hope that if anyone reads this and feels convicted by it, you should know that God does not convict you to condemn you. He convicts you because he longs for a closer relationship with you. And a personal relationship with Christ and the acceptance of Him as your personal Lord and Savior is the only thing that will grant you eternity in Heaven.
If it was difficult for Jesus to reach *His* family, I suppose I shouldn't expect it to be easy for me.
Please watch this video...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yhX7m3rF20c
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Monday, October 4, 2010
Mamaw Duck
Fall is my favorite time of year! My spirit aches for it all year long. During the spring (which is my second favorite time of year) all the beautiful colors still make me think of autumn leaves. I have been known, many times, to refer to a chilly spring morning as reminding me of mornings in the fall. In the summer time I long for fall every second that I am outside enduring the sweltering heat. And although I like winter time, it still doesn't stir the happiness and contentment I feel during autumn.
On Saturday morning I was enjoying the quiet of the house before everyone woke. It was a little nippy because we hadn't turned the heat up before bed Friday night. And the sweetest memory came to my mind, so for a few moments I indulged myself....
When I was a young girl I remember spending time at my grandmother's house. Her name was Virginia Davis and she lived on a sweet, picturesque little farm in Bourbon County...Plum Lick Road to be exact. Her and my Papaw bought the farm when they were a young couple and raised their sons on that land, my Papaw farmed it his whole life. He passed away in his 50's. I'm not sure who built the house originally, but I know that Papaw built onto the original 4 room structure when he was a young father to make room for his boys. My memories of Papaw are the sketchy memories of a young child, I wish I had more. What I know about him mainly came from stories that my Mamaw or Daddy have told me.
Anyway, I have a lot of great memories of being with my grandmother....still, I wish I had more. She passed away in December 2007. Mamaw's house was heated with a fireplace and a wood burning stove, she had no air-conditioning either. In the summer time she threw her windows open and spent most of her day outside. I still remember the lace curtains that she hung in the summer and how they would sway constantly, proving there was always a breeze even if I couldn't feel it! In the winter, days were spent playing in the living room in front of the fire. It's a thousand wonders we didn't get burned because I remember her fire crackling and popping, and yet my sisters and I sat on the floor directly in front of it, playing and absorbing all the warmth that we could.
But in the fall, there was this hoovering conflict that consumed Mamaw's thoughts...when to light the fireplace. See, once she started the fire she would need to try to keep it going, because to start the fire was difficult and time consuming and sometimes smokey and stinky. Generally, it was just a "pain in the tookus", as Mamaw would say! But she didn't want to start it too early in the year when the days could still reach the upper 80's, yet the autumn mornings could leave this lingering chill in her house....
I remember being awakened by the wonderful smell of bacon and coffee. Although I didn't develop an appreciation for the taste of coffee until early in college, I still remember that wonderful smell that came from Mamaw's kitchen in the mornings! I would climb out from under the weight of the blankets that she had put over me during the night. I always went to bed with soft sheets, big fluffy pillows, and a thick handmade quilt on the bed. But when I woke in the morning, I could have as many as 10 blankets on top of me! I would put my warm toasty feet on the cold hardwood floor, grab a throw off the bed to wrap around me, and run as fast as I could into the kitchen because I KNEW it was the warmest place in the house. As I hurried through the house jumping from rug to rug, so as not to touch the cold wooden floor, I would round the corner of the kitchen, careful not to slip on the final rug that was in the doorway. I would plop myself in a chair she had purposefully placed in front of the open oven door. The seat was warm on my back and my "tookus"...sometimes TOO warm, but looking back at her gesture, I know she was giving me the best seat in the house!
We would sit in the kitchen and talk about what we were going to do that day. Maybe there was a homemaker's meeting to attend and I would get to make a craft. Or maybe we would drive down the road to visit Gladys Oldson and I would play outside with all of her cats. We would plan to have lunch at The Skillman House (Catherine's, we called it, because we knew the owner personally). After lunch we would share a piece of pie, and then I would take my own dishes to the kitchen and maybe bus a few other tables in the restaurant if the waitresses were busy, to which Catherine would give me and my sisters a quarter for all our hard work. Or maybe we would just stay and play on the farm all day, climbing in the barn, spooking the cows, and taking a walk to the pond to hear the frogs make their loud "ribbits" as they splashed in all at once.
As I get older, I love revisiting those moments! I had a happy childhood for the most part and my grandparents, on both sides of my family, were a presence that have etched beautiful memories in my heart. I have one living grandparent now and I consider myself blessed to have been given as much time as I have had with all of them. But for the past few days, I have been thinking a lot about Mamaw Duck, we called her that because she collected and decorated with ducks of all kinds. So this morning as I climb out of my bed and put my feet on a warm, carpeted floor, I feel a little chill in the house, so I throw on a sweatshirt and hit the buttons on the thermostat. I consider myself blessed to have such luxury, but something inside me this morning stirs and yearns for homemade quilts, a cold wooden floor, and a warm toasty kitchen chair by an open oven door....and one more day with my grandmother.
On Saturday morning I was enjoying the quiet of the house before everyone woke. It was a little nippy because we hadn't turned the heat up before bed Friday night. And the sweetest memory came to my mind, so for a few moments I indulged myself....
When I was a young girl I remember spending time at my grandmother's house. Her name was Virginia Davis and she lived on a sweet, picturesque little farm in Bourbon County...Plum Lick Road to be exact. Her and my Papaw bought the farm when they were a young couple and raised their sons on that land, my Papaw farmed it his whole life. He passed away in his 50's. I'm not sure who built the house originally, but I know that Papaw built onto the original 4 room structure when he was a young father to make room for his boys. My memories of Papaw are the sketchy memories of a young child, I wish I had more. What I know about him mainly came from stories that my Mamaw or Daddy have told me.
Anyway, I have a lot of great memories of being with my grandmother....still, I wish I had more. She passed away in December 2007. Mamaw's house was heated with a fireplace and a wood burning stove, she had no air-conditioning either. In the summer time she threw her windows open and spent most of her day outside. I still remember the lace curtains that she hung in the summer and how they would sway constantly, proving there was always a breeze even if I couldn't feel it! In the winter, days were spent playing in the living room in front of the fire. It's a thousand wonders we didn't get burned because I remember her fire crackling and popping, and yet my sisters and I sat on the floor directly in front of it, playing and absorbing all the warmth that we could.
But in the fall, there was this hoovering conflict that consumed Mamaw's thoughts...when to light the fireplace. See, once she started the fire she would need to try to keep it going, because to start the fire was difficult and time consuming and sometimes smokey and stinky. Generally, it was just a "pain in the tookus", as Mamaw would say! But she didn't want to start it too early in the year when the days could still reach the upper 80's, yet the autumn mornings could leave this lingering chill in her house....
I remember being awakened by the wonderful smell of bacon and coffee. Although I didn't develop an appreciation for the taste of coffee until early in college, I still remember that wonderful smell that came from Mamaw's kitchen in the mornings! I would climb out from under the weight of the blankets that she had put over me during the night. I always went to bed with soft sheets, big fluffy pillows, and a thick handmade quilt on the bed. But when I woke in the morning, I could have as many as 10 blankets on top of me! I would put my warm toasty feet on the cold hardwood floor, grab a throw off the bed to wrap around me, and run as fast as I could into the kitchen because I KNEW it was the warmest place in the house. As I hurried through the house jumping from rug to rug, so as not to touch the cold wooden floor, I would round the corner of the kitchen, careful not to slip on the final rug that was in the doorway. I would plop myself in a chair she had purposefully placed in front of the open oven door. The seat was warm on my back and my "tookus"...sometimes TOO warm, but looking back at her gesture, I know she was giving me the best seat in the house!
We would sit in the kitchen and talk about what we were going to do that day. Maybe there was a homemaker's meeting to attend and I would get to make a craft. Or maybe we would drive down the road to visit Gladys Oldson and I would play outside with all of her cats. We would plan to have lunch at The Skillman House (Catherine's, we called it, because we knew the owner personally). After lunch we would share a piece of pie, and then I would take my own dishes to the kitchen and maybe bus a few other tables in the restaurant if the waitresses were busy, to which Catherine would give me and my sisters a quarter for all our hard work. Or maybe we would just stay and play on the farm all day, climbing in the barn, spooking the cows, and taking a walk to the pond to hear the frogs make their loud "ribbits" as they splashed in all at once.
As I get older, I love revisiting those moments! I had a happy childhood for the most part and my grandparents, on both sides of my family, were a presence that have etched beautiful memories in my heart. I have one living grandparent now and I consider myself blessed to have been given as much time as I have had with all of them. But for the past few days, I have been thinking a lot about Mamaw Duck, we called her that because she collected and decorated with ducks of all kinds. So this morning as I climb out of my bed and put my feet on a warm, carpeted floor, I feel a little chill in the house, so I throw on a sweatshirt and hit the buttons on the thermostat. I consider myself blessed to have such luxury, but something inside me this morning stirs and yearns for homemade quilts, a cold wooden floor, and a warm toasty kitchen chair by an open oven door....and one more day with my grandmother.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Goodby Summertime...
Hope you enjoy these summery pictures of my sweet kids...
Now, I'm off to make pumpkin pie on this first day of fall!
Monday, September 20, 2010
The Adventures of Colton
(I just found this in my blog drafts and decided it MUST be posted! It's from January 2009)
I am blogging this for Colton. Colton, sweetie, I hope that when you have children, they are as adventurous as you have been in your short two years of life!
Colton's guardian angel must be exhausted!
Yesterday I was cleaning Colton's nose and decided I just couldn't stand it any more, the runny nose was too much to deal with all day long...I was going to have to pull out the booger snatcher. Now until yesterday, Colton didn't mind the booger snatcher too terribly much so I pinned him down and sucked out an enormous amount of "yuck" from his nose. As I was doing this I kept getting a glimpse of something blue...almost teal colored, in his nose but it wasn't coming out and I felt like I had tortured him enough for the moment. I decided to wait until Jeff got home and let him handle it.
When Jeff came home that evening we had our usually business meeting..."here's what came in the mail, guess what happened at work, this needs to be fixed, that's got to be done, this needs to get paid, and that needs to be purchased, here's a briefing of the day and here's the run down for tomorrow."..."oh, and honey, Colton has something in his nose and I can't get it out."
Jeff-"What?"
Gina-"Colton...our son (remember him?), has something up his nose. I don't know what it is and I can't get it out. We have no working flashlights (which is something else to mention at the next business meeting) so I decided to wait until you got home to try and figure out what to do."
Jeff proceeded to retrieve the one working flashlight we have from his truck while I got the booger snatcher and a pair of tweezers, just in case Colton was cooperative and my husband proved to me that he had the steady hands of a surgeon. Again, we had to pin Colton down which, I know, sounds awful but I can assure you this is standard procedure for any parent using a booger snatcher. For what seemed like FOREVER, Jeff attempted to retrieve the "thing" from his nose. Finally, we just agreed that it...whatever "it" might be...was not something that was suppose to be in a person's nose and he needed to go to the ER. After going back and forth about who should take him, we decided that I would stay with the other kids and my mom would meet Jeff at the hospital.
The staff at the ER gave an A+ effort but could not get it out either. I won't give the details of what went down, but let's just say I'm glad Colton will not remember anything from when he was 2 yrs old! If, by some chance he were to remember that ER visit, we may be in therapy for years to come. They referred us to an Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor for the next day and baby Colton came home after a very traumatic episode. To try and make up for the terrible day he had, Jeff stopped to get him some french fries...it worked.
The next day my mom and I took Colton to Lexington, with Sydney in tow. I am still her personal vending machine so we are never apart for very long. The ENT was this really sweet man who assured me that this type of thing happened all the time and with some help, he could probably get it out. Jeff and I had agreed we were not going to let anyone else poke, prod, blow air, or shoot water up Colton's nose...he had been through enough. We knew his little nose had to be sore because it looked very irritated. I also noticed a unpleasant smell coming from his nose so I was pretty sure that there was some infection. When I explained this to the doctor, he was very quick to understand and agreed with our decision. He told me the other option was to remove it under anesthesia which would have to be done at a surgery center. He scheduled us for the next day and home we went. I wasn't sure how long the "thing" had been up his nose but we could wait one more day...I guess.
The next morning Jeff, Colton and I drove to Lexington VERY early in the morning on empty stomachs and with an empty sippy cup...it was torture! Colton wasn't allowed to have anything to eat or drink after midnight and we were not going to eat or drink in front of him. *Just a little side note...I am a monster when I'm hungry! So is Colton!* So Jeff drove to Lexington with two monsters. We almost got lost 84 times, and in retrospect, I am so thankful that my husband didn't listen to my driving directions, although it caused me to nag terribly. I should not be instructing anyone when I am tired, hungry, and operating on no caffeine, all the while with a tired, hungry, screaming toddler in the back seat.
We arrived at the surgery center safely and in plenty of time...by safely, I mean the monsters didn't harm anyone or themselves. After registration and some really great drugs, I was nervous and sad to turn my little intoxicated Coco over to a nurse, but knew it was inevitable so why drag it out...besides I was starving! The "retrieval" went well. Turns out it was carpet padding! We had ripped up carpet in the main part of the house to lay hardwood, and Colton managed to find a lingering piece of the padding to shove it up his nose. Oh, and they didn't retrieve just one piece, no they retrieved 2 pieces! Lovely thought, huh?
So Colton, for the rest of your life, when you have to list your surgeries that you've had on medical information forms, don't forget to put down "Foreign object removal from right nostril." If you conveniently forget, I will always be glad to remind you, sweetie.
I am blogging this for Colton. Colton, sweetie, I hope that when you have children, they are as adventurous as you have been in your short two years of life!
Colton's guardian angel must be exhausted!
Yesterday I was cleaning Colton's nose and decided I just couldn't stand it any more, the runny nose was too much to deal with all day long...I was going to have to pull out the booger snatcher. Now until yesterday, Colton didn't mind the booger snatcher too terribly much so I pinned him down and sucked out an enormous amount of "yuck" from his nose. As I was doing this I kept getting a glimpse of something blue...almost teal colored, in his nose but it wasn't coming out and I felt like I had tortured him enough for the moment. I decided to wait until Jeff got home and let him handle it.
When Jeff came home that evening we had our usually business meeting..."here's what came in the mail, guess what happened at work, this needs to be fixed, that's got to be done, this needs to get paid, and that needs to be purchased, here's a briefing of the day and here's the run down for tomorrow."..."oh, and honey, Colton has something in his nose and I can't get it out."
Jeff-"What?"
Gina-"Colton...our son (remember him?), has something up his nose. I don't know what it is and I can't get it out. We have no working flashlights (which is something else to mention at the next business meeting) so I decided to wait until you got home to try and figure out what to do."
Jeff proceeded to retrieve the one working flashlight we have from his truck while I got the booger snatcher and a pair of tweezers, just in case Colton was cooperative and my husband proved to me that he had the steady hands of a surgeon. Again, we had to pin Colton down which, I know, sounds awful but I can assure you this is standard procedure for any parent using a booger snatcher. For what seemed like FOREVER, Jeff attempted to retrieve the "thing" from his nose. Finally, we just agreed that it...whatever "it" might be...was not something that was suppose to be in a person's nose and he needed to go to the ER. After going back and forth about who should take him, we decided that I would stay with the other kids and my mom would meet Jeff at the hospital.
The staff at the ER gave an A+ effort but could not get it out either. I won't give the details of what went down, but let's just say I'm glad Colton will not remember anything from when he was 2 yrs old! If, by some chance he were to remember that ER visit, we may be in therapy for years to come. They referred us to an Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor for the next day and baby Colton came home after a very traumatic episode. To try and make up for the terrible day he had, Jeff stopped to get him some french fries...it worked.
The next day my mom and I took Colton to Lexington, with Sydney in tow. I am still her personal vending machine so we are never apart for very long. The ENT was this really sweet man who assured me that this type of thing happened all the time and with some help, he could probably get it out. Jeff and I had agreed we were not going to let anyone else poke, prod, blow air, or shoot water up Colton's nose...he had been through enough. We knew his little nose had to be sore because it looked very irritated. I also noticed a unpleasant smell coming from his nose so I was pretty sure that there was some infection. When I explained this to the doctor, he was very quick to understand and agreed with our decision. He told me the other option was to remove it under anesthesia which would have to be done at a surgery center. He scheduled us for the next day and home we went. I wasn't sure how long the "thing" had been up his nose but we could wait one more day...I guess.
The next morning Jeff, Colton and I drove to Lexington VERY early in the morning on empty stomachs and with an empty sippy cup...it was torture! Colton wasn't allowed to have anything to eat or drink after midnight and we were not going to eat or drink in front of him. *Just a little side note...I am a monster when I'm hungry! So is Colton!* So Jeff drove to Lexington with two monsters. We almost got lost 84 times, and in retrospect, I am so thankful that my husband didn't listen to my driving directions, although it caused me to nag terribly. I should not be instructing anyone when I am tired, hungry, and operating on no caffeine, all the while with a tired, hungry, screaming toddler in the back seat.
We arrived at the surgery center safely and in plenty of time...by safely, I mean the monsters didn't harm anyone or themselves. After registration and some really great drugs, I was nervous and sad to turn my little intoxicated Coco over to a nurse, but knew it was inevitable so why drag it out...besides I was starving! The "retrieval" went well. Turns out it was carpet padding! We had ripped up carpet in the main part of the house to lay hardwood, and Colton managed to find a lingering piece of the padding to shove it up his nose. Oh, and they didn't retrieve just one piece, no they retrieved 2 pieces! Lovely thought, huh?
So Colton, for the rest of your life, when you have to list your surgeries that you've had on medical information forms, don't forget to put down "Foreign object removal from right nostril." If you conveniently forget, I will always be glad to remind you, sweetie.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Yes, they're all mine. Wait...where did that one come from?!?!
I love Sundays!
The sheer chaos of the morning makes me laugh. The packing of the snacks and sippy cups, shoveling down breakfast in the van on the way to church because somebody got up late and didn't have time to eat. Running back in the house to grab diapers and wipes because "I thought you grabbed them." "No, I thought you grabbed them! Didn't I tell you to grab them?" Doing my make-up on the way to church with one eye open and the other eye closed praying to God that we don't hit a pothole and poke my eyeball out! Getting to church only to realize that a) we're late...again, b) Colton has no socks on, and c) Sydney apparently lost a shoe in the driveway at the house, so now she will have to go into church with one shoe on!
Let me NOT forget the important task of picking out matching clothes, ironing said clothes, forcing oldest daughter to change into the clothes that *I* picked out because we are going to church (for heaven's sake)...not a grunge-fest! And let's not forget the one phrase that will throw the entire household into a panic..."OH NO! I don't have any clean underwear!"
If only church would start 5 minutes later, I swear I think I could pull it off.
But it's all worth it when the worship service begins and I look down the aisle and see my children and husband...all of us at church and together, worshipping God...'cause that's the goal.
Until I notice that I have two extra children sitting on my pew! WHAT!?!?
The sheer chaos of the morning makes me laugh. The packing of the snacks and sippy cups, shoveling down breakfast in the van on the way to church because somebody got up late and didn't have time to eat. Running back in the house to grab diapers and wipes because "I thought you grabbed them." "No, I thought you grabbed them! Didn't I tell you to grab them?" Doing my make-up on the way to church with one eye open and the other eye closed praying to God that we don't hit a pothole and poke my eyeball out! Getting to church only to realize that a) we're late...again, b) Colton has no socks on, and c) Sydney apparently lost a shoe in the driveway at the house, so now she will have to go into church with one shoe on!
Let me NOT forget the important task of picking out matching clothes, ironing said clothes, forcing oldest daughter to change into the clothes that *I* picked out because we are going to church (for heaven's sake)...not a grunge-fest! And let's not forget the one phrase that will throw the entire household into a panic..."OH NO! I don't have any clean underwear!"
If only church would start 5 minutes later, I swear I think I could pull it off.
But it's all worth it when the worship service begins and I look down the aisle and see my children and husband...all of us at church and together, worshipping God...'cause that's the goal.
Until I notice that I have two extra children sitting on my pew! WHAT!?!?
Friday, July 24, 2009
A Rowdy Day for Sydney-Pooh
Sydney hardly ever causes a ruckus. Generally, she is agreeable and just spends her day following me around the house or playing quietly in Colton's room. Every so often she will scream when some injustice has happened to her...she has figured out that the squeaky wheel gets the oil.
But today my little angel has been quite rowdy! This morning Sydney and I were the only ones home for a few hours and I took the opportunity to give her a quiet, non-splashing, non- assaulting bath. She and Colton usually take a bath together and because of that her experience with bath time has been negatively altered. Anyone who has given Colton a bath knows what I'm talking about. I would compare Colton's bath time to standing in the "splashing zone" at a water park...no one walks away dry and every inch of the bathroom is dripping. Anyway, I thought I would give Sydney a nice peaceful bath, then some one-on-one cuddle time and down for a nap.
A few hours later Jeff showed up with ice cream sandwiches for the kids. Sydney went into her high chair, made a gigantic mess of the ice cream sandwich, and soon thereafter went BACK into the bathtub. I was actually more upset about the adorable little dress she had on being potentially ruined. Thank goodness for Spray 'N Wash! After bath #2 was finished she and Colton were playing in his room with our new puppy. Jeff was right outside the bedroom and noticed Sydney with *something* on her hands and in her mouth. The puppy had taken a 'poo' in Colton's room and Sydney was playing in it and, of all things, put it in her mouth!!! So she received a quick but thorough bird bath, a tooth-brushing, and some juice to 'wash it down'. UUgggghhhh! It makes me want to puke, and I am totally expecting her to get worms or something!
Dinner time was approaching and as I surveyed my cabinets, all I could muster up the energy to fix was spaghetti. I should have spent the few extra minutes fixing something less messy because guess who got YET ANOTHER bath after dinner...Sydney-Pooh! While she was in the bathtub for the fourth time today, I was sitting on the floor gazing at the hideous wallpaper that I had hoped would be replaced by now (hint, hint...Jeff), I looked over and Sydney had a bar of soap in her mouth...goin' to town on it!
So in one 12 hour period Sydney has played in and chomped on puppy poo, sucked on a bar of soap, and had 4 baths. I am exhausted!
To beat it all, Jeff keeps giving me *that look*... and I just keep ignoring him. It ain't gonna happen tonight sweetheart!
But today my little angel has been quite rowdy! This morning Sydney and I were the only ones home for a few hours and I took the opportunity to give her a quiet, non-splashing, non- assaulting bath. She and Colton usually take a bath together and because of that her experience with bath time has been negatively altered. Anyone who has given Colton a bath knows what I'm talking about. I would compare Colton's bath time to standing in the "splashing zone" at a water park...no one walks away dry and every inch of the bathroom is dripping. Anyway, I thought I would give Sydney a nice peaceful bath, then some one-on-one cuddle time and down for a nap.
A few hours later Jeff showed up with ice cream sandwiches for the kids. Sydney went into her high chair, made a gigantic mess of the ice cream sandwich, and soon thereafter went BACK into the bathtub. I was actually more upset about the adorable little dress she had on being potentially ruined. Thank goodness for Spray 'N Wash! After bath #2 was finished she and Colton were playing in his room with our new puppy. Jeff was right outside the bedroom and noticed Sydney with *something* on her hands and in her mouth. The puppy had taken a 'poo' in Colton's room and Sydney was playing in it and, of all things, put it in her mouth!!! So she received a quick but thorough bird bath, a tooth-brushing, and some juice to 'wash it down'. UUgggghhhh! It makes me want to puke, and I am totally expecting her to get worms or something!
Dinner time was approaching and as I surveyed my cabinets, all I could muster up the energy to fix was spaghetti. I should have spent the few extra minutes fixing something less messy because guess who got YET ANOTHER bath after dinner...Sydney-Pooh! While she was in the bathtub for the fourth time today, I was sitting on the floor gazing at the hideous wallpaper that I had hoped would be replaced by now (hint, hint...Jeff), I looked over and Sydney had a bar of soap in her mouth...goin' to town on it!
So in one 12 hour period Sydney has played in and chomped on puppy poo, sucked on a bar of soap, and had 4 baths. I am exhausted!
To beat it all, Jeff keeps giving me *that look*... and I just keep ignoring him. It ain't gonna happen tonight sweetheart!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Well, Shut My Mouth!
Transparency stinks!
However, I know as christians we are called to be transparent with our lives and most important, our short-comings so that we do not block others from seeing Christ. Non-believers and even some believers will take the transparency of christians and make judgements. They will say things like, " If that's what a christian is then I don't want to be one," or " I have seen how that person acts and they have the nerve to call themselves a christian!"
Well, let me share with you some of the milder ugliness that I have displayed...and yes, I am a christian woman.
*I threw a complete hissy-fit at one of JD's baseball games, in front of everyone! I growled at the umpire like a lion, and then after the game tried to justify my actions because it was a bad call. Complete Ugliness!
*I lost my temper on the phone to someone who so desperately needs to see Jesus in me instead of this-> "@#^$(*&#%(@#&$(*&%!!!!!!" Complete Ugliness!
*I often will hear the kids mouth-off from the back seat of the van to another vehicle. I always try to correct it but I also KNOW that they are only mimicking my actions and words from an earlier moment of frustration. Complete Ugliness!
*I have found myself listening and participating with a group of people who are "sharing information" about another person. I have justified this by saying something flipped like, " Well, we need to really pray for that family." Gossip! Complete Ugliness!
I'm tellin' ya, I am in a constant struggle with my mouth. James 1: 26 says, "If a person considers himself a christian but does not keep a tight rein on his tongue, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless." WORTHLESS! As I read James chapter 3, I feel like God is just spanking my backside! "The tongue is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire,..." Sometimes I think God should give me laryngitis. Or how about this, I think God should send me into a coughing fit every time I get mouthy...just to shut me up. As much as a pray for the right words to say and for wisdom to control my mouth, it still seems to run-a-muck despite my best intentions.
Some of my biggest regrets are things that I have said, things that I cannot take back. Times when I embarrassed people around me because I didn't have enough discernment to just shut-up. Times when I didn't have enough self-control to not participate in a conversation...times when I should have just walked away. As God continues to mold me into the woman he wants me to be, I know that he will work intensely on this short-coming. I also know that as I improve, as I gain wisdom, discernment, and self-control, it is not me...but God who should receive the praise.
However, I know as christians we are called to be transparent with our lives and most important, our short-comings so that we do not block others from seeing Christ. Non-believers and even some believers will take the transparency of christians and make judgements. They will say things like, " If that's what a christian is then I don't want to be one," or " I have seen how that person acts and they have the nerve to call themselves a christian!"
Well, let me share with you some of the milder ugliness that I have displayed...and yes, I am a christian woman.
*I threw a complete hissy-fit at one of JD's baseball games, in front of everyone! I growled at the umpire like a lion, and then after the game tried to justify my actions because it was a bad call. Complete Ugliness!
*I lost my temper on the phone to someone who so desperately needs to see Jesus in me instead of this-> "@#^$(*&#%(@#&$(*&%!!!!!!" Complete Ugliness!
*I often will hear the kids mouth-off from the back seat of the van to another vehicle. I always try to correct it but I also KNOW that they are only mimicking my actions and words from an earlier moment of frustration. Complete Ugliness!
*I have found myself listening and participating with a group of people who are "sharing information" about another person. I have justified this by saying something flipped like, " Well, we need to really pray for that family." Gossip! Complete Ugliness!
I'm tellin' ya, I am in a constant struggle with my mouth. James 1: 26 says, "If a person considers himself a christian but does not keep a tight rein on his tongue, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless." WORTHLESS! As I read James chapter 3, I feel like God is just spanking my backside! "The tongue is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire,..." Sometimes I think God should give me laryngitis. Or how about this, I think God should send me into a coughing fit every time I get mouthy...just to shut me up. As much as a pray for the right words to say and for wisdom to control my mouth, it still seems to run-a-muck despite my best intentions.
Some of my biggest regrets are things that I have said, things that I cannot take back. Times when I embarrassed people around me because I didn't have enough discernment to just shut-up. Times when I didn't have enough self-control to not participate in a conversation...times when I should have just walked away. As God continues to mold me into the woman he wants me to be, I know that he will work intensely on this short-coming. I also know that as I improve, as I gain wisdom, discernment, and self-control, it is not me...but God who should receive the praise.
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