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SAHM Ships Her Pants in the Big City

Yesterday I woke up sure I was dying of colon cancer.

I actually had all the signs according to the NIH.
 
The last month has proved to be a loose operation around here…and by “around here” specifically I mean me, my toilet, and I.  Almost a month ago I decided to do a Daniel Fast to pray about some specific things in my life and a lot of people in my life, and also to clean up my body a bit.  God put certain people on my heart and my times of study were really rich.  It’s always easier for me to fast while Jason is out of town and since he was headed to India for a week and a half I chose that time frame.  In true anal (huh) fashion, I typed up a schedule of my Daniel Fast, what foods were allowed, pretty much just veggies, and also wanted to be smart and take certain supplements to be sure I was cleaning out impurities as they released over the course of the week and a half.  All I know is, after a few days and some research and re-calculating, I “discovered” (since the evidence wasn’t enough?) that I was ingesting enough fiber for me and my family of 4…and probably your family of 4, as well.

photo courtesy of 4unews.com

Those are times I’m grateful my husband is out of town…I kid you not, I could barely breathe in bed every night.  And I’m not talking about sinus congestion.

Jason got home from India bringing some sort of foreign guest along in his colon.  Poor guy was way more worse off than I was, speaking of “loose operations” and all.  He finally got some meds and he was back in regular business after a couple of days.

Anyway, with him home, once he was able to eat again, I re-introduced fish and a little more lean protein to my “fast”.  And, since he got home prior to the weekend and we had a birthday party and I had been solo with the kids for 10 1/2 straight days and I’d eaten clean all that time and lifted, did Yoga, and hit the treadmill each day, I had a glass of wine on date night.  And some popcorn.  And split a gluten free dessert after dinner, but I was writing a “Trip Advisor” review, so that was important because, of course, no one cares and I’m not getting paid for it…but I was going to go back to clean the next morning.

And I got back to pretty clean/balanced eating but none of my “deposits” had gone back to “normal.”  In fact, at night my liver was hurting so I’d wake up and flip onto my left side to get back to sleep.  This, of course, put Jason in a trapped state, but since he sleeps through most things, I mean, what can you do? 

And then there are a few details I’ll leave out…

Finally I decided to back off my protein powder supplement laden with fiber, as well as my other fibrous supplements, and just let the regular fiber in my veggies do the trick to get me back to a regular pooping kind of girl…not to mention, I was headed to New York City for the upcoming weekend and didn’t want to become familiar, like some old person, with all the restrooms in the City.

This plan worked well.  Over the course of the weekend, walking miles and miles, hanging out with friends, hitting gluten-free foodie restaurants and strolling the tulip lined streets all over the City, I realized my bowels and I were, again, at one with the Universe.  Except for on Sunday evening when I looked and felt 7 months pregnant, without exaggeration, and could not for the life of me figure out what the culprit was because even though I had indulged a little in the City, I still didn’t eat my allergens.  I went to bed that night, sleeping on my left side, holding my baby belly, hoping all would be well in the morning.

The next morning was our day to leave.  We hit a local diner for breakfast and shared blueberries and an omelet.  I don’t eat eggs.  I haven’t had eggs in probably a year and a half because my blood work shows it to be my most extreme allergen.  But I thought, “Eh, it won’t be that big of a deal…it’s cleaner than me eating something like a straight up donut or piece of cheesecake or something…”

We got to the airport, seated on the plane, I fell fast asleep after take off with one of those horrifying open-mouthed plane deep sleeps we’ve all experienced.  All was well with my little world.  About a half an hour prior to landing I woke up because I was 7 months pregnant again.  My baby was raging mad…kicking…wanting out.

I wasn’t quite ready to “deliver” on the plane.

We de-planed and headed to the ladies room, but I guess it was just premature labor.

After a 45 minute drive home, I walked in the door and, let’s just say, it wasn’t pretty…at all…for four days straight.  The first night, in what is shy only a month of 20 years, Jason had to hit the couch for the first time because I was in and out of bed every 4 minutes.  “Hi, I’m home!  I’m sure you are so happy to have me home from NYC, huh?!”

Anyway, thankfully my sister was here during this time and was so very helpful with the kiddos while Jason was at work and I was “in my office.”  He said, “I bet you got food poisoning or something.”  I kept thinking, “I split meals with my friends and none of them are sick so it must just be some hidden allergen.” 

When things slowed a bit I started doing a little research about bowels and guts.  I researched the Mayo’s site, several natural health and infectious disease sites, read a few books on Crohn’s and colitis and inflammatory bowel disease.  I researched the causes, the symptoms, the underlying factors.

Jason said I probably got what he had when he got home from India.

I reminded him of my already tender digestive tract prior to my trip and told him it was more likely a sudden onset of Crohn’s…but deep down, I knew it was colon cancer and I was sad because I had heard two stories of people finding out they had cancer only two weeks prior and they left their families prematurely and my grandma had several inches of her colon removed and my parents have gut stuff and so do my sisters and with all my “fasting and cleansing” and eating clean and chocolate and wine binges, I’d probably jacked up my whole system and I was weeping because I wanted to watch Emily and Ryan grow up to love God and live boldly for Him and I had so much I needed to write down so they would know how much I love them and what kind of people they should marry and that they could be whatever they wanted to be if God was at the center of their lives being honored in it, and I wanted to renew my vows with Jason on our 20th, but now we weren’t going to Spain until August and would I make it until then and had I really left the world a better place than I found it or had I just wasted space and time and talents and there was so much to do if I was going to die, even though I wasn’t afraid of it…

Jason said, “Sweetheart, please just make an appointment with Dr. Snook and Dr. Julie and they can do some tests.  You probably just have a virus or something, but you won’t ever know until you go.  And you need to stop doing research on the Internet for a while.  Like, take a 5 day break or something…I mean it.”  He prayed for me in the kitchen and headed out the door for an overnight to Florida for work.

I got the kids in the car, did carpool, and headed up during rush hour traffic to a last minute appointment my friend had available.  The back pain was worse.  The cancer has spread.  And now nausea.  Last stages.  I was no longer seven months pregnant but rather, skinny from my week of steady trips to the loo.  My doctor friend (who I have known for 10 years and we are very, very close and she knows me all too well) said, “Hey, you look great!  What are you doing?”  I said, “I’ve been shitting in my pants all week non-stop…I’m not sure there’s a secret to it…you just loose weight?!*&%$#”  

She said, “What’s going on?”

I said, “I’m a mess! (*Insert BAWLING…)  I think I have colon cancer or Crohn’s or something…”

She checked me out, did a couple tests and said, “You have a virus…”

And then she said, “You need to take this because this will help, but I’m pulling out the Big Guns…”

And then she prayed for me.  Not just for my guts but for my mind and my train of thought and my heart and some of the details I can’t share here yet and God gave me His peace.

Life is short and I do need to write a few things down for both Emily and Ryan.  But I also need to live right here.  Right now, with INTENTION.

And I don’t know when my life here on Earth is meant to come to an end because I’m not in charge of that but I trust the One who has my days numbered in His grand plan.  I’m taking a break from digestive research even though it’s fascinating and I know from self-experimentation and documented research the benefits of clean eating on disease and health.

But for now, I will live with INTENTION.

My thoughts had become cancerous, not my bowels

I will not allow my head and heart to run on rabbit trails, but when and if I do, I know the One, my loving, steadfast Savior, who remains faithful even when I go darting off.

I guess I just needed the reminder:  It’s the slow and steady tortoise who wins in the end.

*Ever had a crazy “end of the world” kind of day?  You can leave it in the comment section so I don’t feel like the only one, or you can NOT and that’s okay, too…either way, it felt good to write it out…

Have a good weekend!

Sweet Chorus of Chaos!

Setting:  Suburbia, one of the best towns to live in USA, kitchen/nook/great room, 36 animal flash cards strewn about, 37 large Lego’s also strewn, 2 baskets of clean unfolded laundry, one counter top covered with after school paraphernalia, another counter top covered in veggies for food prep, cup stacking mat and florescent green cups in center of kitchen table, the other 14 animal flash cards stuck upright in long crack of old schoolhouse kitchen table, 3 squashed grapes on floor, 4 pieces of paper with crayon sketched nay nays and moo moos on floor under table, left side of sink filled with clean dishes, right side stacked up to Jesus with dirty ones.

Characters:  One 10 year old 5th grade girl who rides the fence of wanting to be a little kid and a young lady; one 2 year old boy who knows the sound of every animal on the planet (or at least his 50 flash cards) who also, incidentally, had a temp of 102.5 earlier today which broke during his nap which woke him up early which plays a key role in his behavior in this particular setting; one 40 year old mom just trying to make dinner; one beautiful 30 year old friend who was gracious enough to endure the setting, characters, plot, conflict, and lack of resolution, who also brought fabulous fresh berries for dessert; one 4 pound black and brown full grown Maltipoo with a quarter pound bark collar on her neck who still yips and yaps regardless of said collar.  (Character NOT in play: suburban dad/hubby…)

Plot/Exposition:  40 year old mom who has had one shower this week would love to enjoy adult interaction with 30 year old friend (since suburban husband can’t hang out on phone while overseas on work trip) while making a yummy dinner for all characters involved, then to tuck animal loving 2 year old into bed early since his fever from the night before had kept him and said 40 year old mom awake until 1:30 am, and tuck in 10 year old daughter because those moments are so great for old mom’s heart, and finally to finish up chatting with young, beautiful, energetic 30 year old girlfriend who has no wrinkles.

Conflict:  Little boy wants his dinner now, not when hazelnut and herb crusted salmon, sauteed squash, mushrooms, and broccoli are finished, but EN. OH. DOUBLE YOU.  NOW!  Exhausted but not completely worn thin 40 year old mom who did get in a 1 1/2 hour yoga routine today gets mushrooms done first, then zucchini, then finally broccoli…Bubbly awesome young friend cuts peels off apple slices for little boy who is yelling, “Opples!  Opples!  Moose!  Moose!  Nay Nays!  Nay Nays!  Moy!  Moy!”  5th grade girl is on front porch reading because it’s part of her homework, however, could be helping saute SOMETHING!  Little boy without a fever but with lots of energy dumps plate of leftovers on his freshly cleaned hair and shouts, “DONE!  DONE!  DONE!  MOOSE!  MOO MOO!  CAMEL!”  Needy, but sweet, 4 lb dog sitting by front door where her 10 year old master sits just inches on the other side.

Ongoing Internal Conflict:  Smelly shower-less 40 year old mom keeps eye-balling the half bottle of red wine in the refrigerator, all the while thinking if she just drank it, it would calm the chaos, or at least take the edge off…but said mom knows better than to drink alone since gorgeous helpful 30 year old is on a cleanse so red and white and tequila and all other indulgences are off limits.  And then 40 year old mom snaps to and remembers she’s detoxing, too, so that’s the end of that internal conflict.

Continued Conflict:  Truly, truly, an inability for either grown-up to complete any given thought or sentence or story or…

  • In the MIDDLE of dinner, “Hey, can I show you guys a hand stand?”
  • “Moo moo!  Nay Nay!  Done!”
  • “I’m so sorry you had to go to a funeral…”
  • “Do I have to eat all of this lettuce?”
  • “Ooooh, Mommy!  Juice!”
  • “Can I have chocolate when I am done?”
  • “So were you able to spend time with family or see…?”
  • “Um, before it gets too dark will you guys come out in the backyard and watch me do a hand stand?”
  • “Moy!  Moy!  Moy!  Moy num nums!”
  • “Done!  Done!  Moose!  Done!”
  • “Can you send chocolate in my lunch tomorrow?”

Climax:  While piecing together the scene and series of events, 30 year old amazing helper friend with great hair and arms says to mom whose head has collapsed onto old schoolhouse table in an attempt for a solo retreat, “I think I’m starting to piece together why you asked me earlier to pray for you and God’s purpose in your life…I will definitely be praying for that, friend.”

Resolution:  10 year old clears dishes from the table after asking politely if she may be excused, then proceeds to do a fabulous hand stand in back yard.  2 year old escapes out the back door into backyard and does somersault while saying hi to the neighboring woof woofs.  Faithful and selfless 30 year old friend cleans the kitchen, the way her 40 year old friend would clean it.  Amazingly strong yoga momma climbs stairs with 27 pound 2 year old in her arms and has success on 2nd attempt to tuck in said toddler, albeit 2.5 hours after first attempt.  5th grade girl gets ready for bed, including feeding/watering/pottying of furry friend, without being asked by Super Mom who is still dressed in all black from working as a secret agent with the CIA, uh, doing yoga 8 hours earlier and smelling like it.

I love my best friend of 22 years, 19 of them married…

I love my nose-picking toddler..

I love backyard nudity…

I love being shot with water guns by my 10 year old…

*Note water drips from being shot…

I love that, thankfully, colored hair extensions and feather earrings aren’t moral issues…

I love Gary the Cowboy who let me shoot off a little steam recently..

I love that my toddler can say words like:  “Done!  Moose!  Nay Nay!”

I love the beautiful gracious gift of God who has taught me so much over the last 10 years…

I love that even though she is growing up, she still wanted to have a tea party at American Girl…

I love being a mom.  I really do.  I mean it.

And I love being a wife.  I really do.  I mean it.

These are two hats I wear and two roles I’d like to think I play decently, at least in my family.

However, what if I had never gotten married or what if I’d never had kids.

Who would I be?  

Not like, “Oh, I wish I hadn’t!” or “What am I missing out on?” This isn’t a mid-life crisis question or anything like that.

BUT:  Before I was a mom I was a wife.  And before I was a wife, I was a young woman…one with dreams and passions and ideas, some of which have really and truly come true…namely: Jason, Em, Noah, and Ryan.  Others that seem they are so covered in dust and cobweb perhaps on their way to fossilization. 

The other night before my husband was leaving for a week-long trip to the Dominican Republic for his job with Compassion International, which incidentally is my dream job since I was in college of traveling the world, working with nationals in country to reach their countrymen, and help women and children…we were just laying in bed talking for a few minutes after the house was finally quiet.

I said, “You know, buying a sports car, getting a tattoo, or having an affair are obvious mid-life crisis symptoms.  I don’t want any of those things, but I can’t even begin to tell you how out of my element I feel lately.  Your job is literally my dream job, I’m not coveting it, but it’s crazy that you are living out my passion for missions.  And then I love to write but haven’t written anything in forever and haven’t felt inspired to write, or even read anything, either.  I mean, I love my Bible and have been reading that tons and actually, the only writing I’ve been doing is with pen and paper, writing scriptures, but it’s like for the first time in years, I have nothing to say or convey.  And, I feel like I’m supposed to encourage other women but don’t even know where to begin, and the truth is, I really MISS encouraging women and being used in that way.  I know I am supposed to be a wife and mom, and I love those things very much, I am not sure if I remember what I love or am good at in addition to that anymore…I just want to be faithful with the gifts and strengths God has given me, however I don’t really know what they are at this given moment.”

This isn’t discontent or dissatisfaction with my life.  I love my life.  I am so very grateful to God for each person and every blessing.  Believe me, we talk about our thousands and thousands of gifts, and write lists of gratitude…

Presently I simply feel purposeless.  Do you ever feel that way?  And if so, do you have encouragement of how to become un-purposeless?

If You Need Another Good Laugh…

Here

Go ahead. 

Laugh. 

Some day you may grow unwanted hair…it could happen!

A Funny

(Photo: What’s Cooking in America)

After dinner Em was searching the freezer for the stash of chocolate chips.

As she was going to shut the door a bag of walnuts slipped off the top shelf.

In her 9 year old way, she tried to shut the freezer door while the walnuts fell in mid-air instead of having to bend over, pick them up and replace them on the top shelf…

As Jason and I witnessed this from across the kitchen, I cried out:

“Careful not to slam your nut sack in the freezer door!”
Yes, Emily had to brace herself on the kitchen counter she was laughing so hard…and yes, Jason’s cheeks turned a little red.  It was funny, but thankfully this girl still has bladder control, even at 40.

Prunes, prunes, the musical fruit!

I should not have gone out in public today.

I mean, I haven’t been out in days because I’ve had strep and Em has it now, so we haven’t been many places other than the couch, her bedroom and the kitchen.

But, since I had showered yesterday and actually washed my hair, I thought, “Heck, I’ll get dressed two days in a row. It’s not a crime!” Plus, a friend was coming over for a visit, so I thought she deserved more than just me brushing my teeth.

So, I put on my one pair of shorts that I own. They are my favorite. Obviously, because they are literally my only pair of shorts.

I put on my daily wife beater tank top, today’s hue: gray.

And then, since my favorite only shorts are plaid Roxy shorts with navy, I decided, “What the heck?! Why not throw on my favorite navy cardigan since it’s cold in the mornings?”

And so I did.

Did I mention I haven’t sanded my feet or changed my toe polish in a month-ish? But I did shave yesterday, so that’s somethin‘. That is, I shaved my pasty white legs that no longer have the lingering effects of my days on the beach in Mexico way back in February. That is, I shaved my white legs that now unabashedly boast bulging blue veins thanks to 3 full-term pregnancies. Love you kids!

So, as I was saying, I went out in public today.

I had to run to the post office as soon as Jason came in the door from work. I didn’t look in the mirror or even glance down at myself. I just grabbed my package and hopped in the car.

And as I left the P.O. I saw my toes…but before my eyes found my toes, they found my left boob…I had a small, 9 month old sized paw print made from prunes on it.

Of course it did. My boobs are often covered in fruits and veggies. Aren’t yours?

And, since I carry my purse on my right shoulder, not even it was working with me to camouflage the prunes.

The problem was, with nasty old red toenails, white scaly, pasty, veiny legs, my uber preppy, Jackie-O JCrew sweater and surf shorts, I still had to run two more errands while I was kid loose and fancy free. Dang it! At least I could switch my purse to my left shoulder…

2nd errand: Vitamin Cottage. Ran into the ladies I see there on a regular basis. They didn’t notice the prunes I had tried to lick off in the car on the way there from the P.O. They are sweet. Maybe they just didn’t let on?

3rd errand: Wal-Mart. And guess what? I fit right in. Don’t be shocked if you see a picture of me on “What not to wear at Wal-Mart” or whatever that website is 🙂

I got my errands done. Now to grab Jason’s power sander and soften up my feet for summer!

I know you usually have it altogether, but in case you aren’t perfect, have any “out in publics” to share?

Unrelated things…

One: Jason is in Bolivia with Compassion International. No, he is not a Compassion blogger, he is the boss of many of the projects they are currently visiting. BUT, I am hoping that he’ll “blog”, (and I use that term loosely when it comes to my hubby who speaks but 100 words a day), at the least some photos from his adventures…I won’t even expect captions…so don’t you, either. He did post some on Facebook, but hopefully Noah’s blog will come to you from Bolivia at some point this week.

Two: Just as I did with our group grief counseling, I will share my counseling experiences here to encourage others on similar journeys. For accountability sake, my first appointment is Tuesday, March 23rd at 9:00. It’ll pretty much go like this: “So, I have 6 free sessions…not looking to extend that…let’s cut to the chase…I got problems…”

Three: Not sure if I mentioned this here or not, but I put The Well Radio Show, my weekly talk show with Gina Johnson, on hold for a season. I felt like I was supposed to really focus on some other dreams that God has been stirring in me for years and, apparently, that timing is now. If you’ve been here a while, you remember the day I ran around frantically trying to get my paperwork into the IRS for my non-profit organization, Bevy. Well, it was approved 8 months after Noah died and is officially a 501(c)3 organization. It has been on my heart to be a good steward of it and pick it up again, but to change the mission a bit. You wouldn’t think that dropping a weekly one hour radio show would free up so much time, but let me tell you, I feel like we’re getting a ton done! God has opened some amazing doors, details I’ll share at another time, but here’s our preliminary website…still working on branding and logo and have to add our Board of Directors. You’ll be able to add it to your blog soon, if you’d like to help spread the word. www.bevygirls.com

Four: Today I had lunch with a friend I love very much. She knows our journey very well, just to lay a foundation for this story. Let me preface this to say that I laugh at very inappropriate things and even crack dead baby jokes with certain friends…unfortunately, it’s something bereaved parents are completely entitled to do. So, I was telling her about a picture of a pie chart Jason posted on Facebook that contained information regarding the infant mortality rates and reasons for death in Bolivia. I told her that a certain percentage of the babies died prior to delivery, some died during delivery, another portion charted that the mother died at the time of delivery, some babies died because of malnutrition and still others died from complications from diarrhea due to unclean water sources. My sweet friend looked at me with a mind-boggling look on her face and said, “Can you EVEN imagine having your child die because of diarrhea?” I paused for a second and smiled…and said, “Yes, actually.” Her face turned beet red and I laughed out loud! She apologized emphatically, but I assured her it was totally fine! Maybe you had to be there???

Five: As we were driving back from lunch, my friend told me of another thing she said to the guy at Chipotle that was unknowingly inappropriate. I was laughing so hard that tears were blurring my vision and I could hardly breathe or see the road…here’s how it went down…if you are too pure, don’t read this

Chipotle man: Carnitas?
Friend: No, veggie tacos.
Chipotle man: Oh, okay, veggie tacos.
Chipotle man turns to cashier and says: Carnitas…I mean, veggie!
Friend: Yeah, quit trying to put your meat in my taco.
Chipotle man: (Nothin’…turns head sideways…awkward look on his face…)
Friend: (Nothin’…beet red cheeks…backs away from the counter…)

I hate all the fruit flies in the whole world!

Nacho: What about the orphans?
Steven: I hate them!
Nacho: What’s that you said?
Steven: I hate orphans!
Nacho: Come again?
Steven: I HATE ORPHANS!
Nacho: Say that to my face!
Steven: I HATE ALL THE ORPHANS IN THE WHOLE WORLD!
(Nacho and Steven start wrestling…)

Okay, raise your hand if you’ve seen ‘Nacho Libre‘. Me too. Noah did, as well. I took my nephew to see it in June or July ’06 and Noah ate and snoozed the whole time. ANYWAY, for anyone who has not seen the movie, if the dialogue above is offensive to you, please just know Steven changes his heart later…He likes them.

SO, if you read the above dialogue out loud with a Mexican voice inflection and insert the word “fruit flies” for “orphans“, you’ll get a glimpse into what’s been running through my head for two weeks now! Honestly, there are days that I feel like the dirty kid from ‘Charlie Brown’ who carries his stinky blankie everywhere and there are always clouds of dust and flies following him…although, I SHOWER AND DON’T CARRY A STINKY BLANKIE AND SO, these blasted fruit flies shouldn’t be following me!

First they started out in the kitchen, around the FRUIT, of course! Is this not disgusting to anyone else?! The fact that creatures in the wild lay LARVAE on our food and then they cling on for dear life, WITHOUT A VISA MIND YOU, and cross the border into our grocery stores, just waiting and watching that someone will ‘pick me’ to go home with! It’s a conspiracy, I tell you! They usually NEVER hatch at the stores! They always wait until they have arrived in your nice clean home and, presto chango, the life cycle proceeds into an annoying pest in the kitchen. Then, we brought some beautiful flowers home from our friends’ wedding and the fruit flies thought we had upgraded their living accommodations. NO they weren’t for you, you freaking bugs! Then, I found 7 carcasses in a spider web in the corner of a window. The ONE time in my life I’ve appreciated SPIDERS! I can see them hovering in mid-air. I clap my hands together in front of me, like a crazy lady, squashing them perhaps only 20% of the time. I opened my closet door yesterday to get dressed and, I kid you not, two flew out to greet me! What the heck?! My clothes don’t fit you, yucky bugs! After church on Sunday, we went to Tokyo Joe’s for a bite. Em and I went to the girls’ room to wash our hands. Guess what was on the mirror staring back at me, taunting me, saying, “I’m a friend of a friend that has taken up residency in your house, lady. We’re not leaving you alone. We know where you live, eat, sleep, work out, we’ll find you, we’ll always find you…” UGH!

We have taken action. We have done the obvious and put all fruit in either our bellies, the fridge or the freezer. The flowers were gone a long time ago, so they don’t live there. I threw all of our plants away while Noah was in the hospital, so I know that’s not an issue. We don’t leave food sitting around and there aren’t crumbs or spills anywhere because, one, we just don’t, and two, the house has to be spotless 24-7 since it’s on the market. SO, why won’t these annoying visitors just go away?! They have worn out their welcome. They aren’t house guests! Seriously. Then it occurred to me, after Em had Jason read her the story of Moses and the Egyptian Pharaoh and the 10 plagues for the 100th time…I said, “Jason, please pray right now! What if God’s trying to tell us something?!” He said, “I hardly think 12 fruit flies is a plague from God.” Yet he did pray. Hey, I just wanted to cover all of my bases! Our friend suggested vinegar with a slice of banana in a cup with plastic wrap on top with a few small holes for the mangy, pesky, fruit sucking creature to enter. I’m willing to try it, but that means I have to BUY BANANAS! I already said it, it’s a conspiracy!

Help!

I Need a Shot!

No sunsets this week…of course there ARE sunsets this week, but Em and I decided to join Jason on a business trip in Dallas and where we are staying (my dear friend’s house) I can’t witness the sunsets. I’m not taking in sunsets this week, but I am spending the week with people I love who also are grieving…their husband/dad/grandpa/friend. We are making memories together and remembering. So, please stop and take the time to be in awe of God’s artwork each night…Yes, He paints them for His own pleasure, but He lets the world in on each masterpiece, so sit back and enjoy.

Another thing I want to remember: While Em and I were visiting a friend of mine who is in college and recently moved into her own place, Em saw some of her sorority treasures. One was a shot glass from a sorority event and Em said, “Mom, look how cute this glass is. It’s the perfect size. What is it for?”

Me: “Oh yeah, that’s just the right size for a sip. It’s just a cup for small tastes, like water, milk, wine, or beer. It’s small so that people don’t drink too much alcohol and become drunk, because God said not to get drunk.”

Em: “May I have a drink of water?”

Me: “Of course. Here you go.”

For those who don’t think I should even discuss shot glasses with my daughter…well, they are real and one day she won’t be attached to my hip, so as opportunity arises, if I don’t teach her as they come and as she asks, she’ll learn it from peers, and the last time I looked, peers don’t teach that shot glasses are just for sips!

A Mouthful

A quote I want to remember…

After seeing the size of the envelope holding Emily’s birthday card from her auntie, I said, “Wow Em, what do you think about the size of that card?!” Em said plainly, “She must have a lot to say.”