Monday, November 3, 2008

Top Ten Reasons I Hate Vegas!

I hate Las Vegas!!! I believe it is the crack in the rear of all humanity. Nothing good comes out of there if ya know what I mean. My husband just returned from a "boys weekend" in the city of all things sinful. He went to go and win the answers to all our financial woes. He brought home nothing more than more financial woes. In a city that never sleeps. Where you cannot walk down the street without being slapped in the face with pornography and more ways to lose your money than one can count. I wonder why people keep going. Statistically the chances of going and winning big are slim to none. I'm not one to spend money I don't have on the off shoot of winning more. So without further ado here are my Top Ten Reasons I Hate Vegas:
1. It is hot!
2. It is dirty.
3. People hand you pornography as you walk down the street.
4. My husband didn't win.
5. The nickle slots don't either exist and if they do they don't give back nickles.
6. Sales tax is 7.5%
7. A room at the Bellagio is upward of $200-$300 a night.
8. A ticket to see a headliner is upwards of $200 a ticket.
9. Every casino has the same games.
10. Again my husband didn't win.

If anyone knows the how to either shut this place down or how to actually win with less than $100 in your pocket and come home a millionaire. Please let me know. I will suffer the through the pure and utter disdain I have for this pit of moral inhumanity and lay my $100 down on the table win my million and come home. Otherwise we need to start telling all our husbands like we tell our children when we don't want to either go or want them to go "I'm sorry it's closed today!" Or "I'm sorry it went out of business they closed Las Vegas they decided they were rich enough and the masses needed to pull themselves out of the pit of poverty and quit dreaming their dreams of getting rich quick!"

Thank you and good night!

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

It's That Time Of Year Again!

Oh yeah! Can you feel it? It is almost time. I love it! It is almost time for our family Christmas pictures. I love picture day. It is my Christmas. One day out of the entire year where everyone smiles and at the same time no less. Isn't it great? Then you have those pictures to look at through out the year and a reminder that one day. Perhaps it was the only day or one of the only days where everyone smiled at the same time. Everyone looks happy. No one looks mad or upset or disgruntled in any way. Everyone looks like the pictures of the families in the picture frames at the store.

I'm not sure when this day became my favorite day of the year. Perhaps when I realized that no matter how hard I tried my family was never going to be a sitcom on TV. We are not the Brady Bunch. I don't even have that many children. It feels like it sometimes, granted, but I don't. I love my family and I am proud of it. I have no works of great art or really many pictures of any kind in my house. I have family pictures. My kids pictures are plastered all over the house. They are my works of art. They are amazing creatures really and the thought that I had anything whatsoever to do with getting them here is almost unfathomable. God is good! No scratch that God is AMAZING! Think I'm wrong? Look around. Look at your children look at the trees and the bees and the butterflies. Think you had anything to do with any of it? Think again! God gave these amazing gifts to you and you didn't even have to ask for most of them. I realize that I am just a vessel a means to an end if you will. Sure I carried them for nine months and fed them and love them and care for them always. But God has a plan for them far beyond what I can possibly conceive of.

So you can have your Mona Lisa's and any other works of art. I prefer to have pictures of the gifts God has given to me all around me so when they are not home I can look at them and marvel any time I choose. God is good!

Monday, October 6, 2008

Why Can't We All Just Get Along?

As Carrie Bradshaw would say ... I can't help but wonder what our lives would be like if everyone would just get along? On a crisp fall day as the leaves are just falling from the trees and the sun shines brightly in the sky the birds chirp sweetly in the breeze. You can almost get a sense of what God had planned for us. Children laughing and playing, families going to pumpkin patches in anticipation of all that fall has to offer. You can almost taste the apple cider and pumpkin pie can't you? The scene in my mind is almost fathomable yet seems to be just out of reach.

I have started work in two separate jobs. I dream of getting enough hours at one job to only have to go to one. I also dream of becoming a hair stylist and not being able to give someone my own haircut. So I understand about some dreams just being somewhat ludicrous. As we have discussed in my previous post I am somewhat of a wannabe fashion diva. My childhood dream was to become either a fashion designer or a fashion buyer for Bloomingdale's preferably. I do not work in the fashion industry on any level. I do not even have a job where I am completely able to dress as the diva I dream of one day being. These are neither here nor there. My point is that I have not one but two jobs and no one can get along with everyone. I realize that my dream of going to work and everyone getting along with everyone else is least now I do. But I had high hopes none the less. I went to a somewhat small high school. I hated high school. I'm old now I have no desire to go back and relive what once was. Nor do I have any fantasies that I could somehow do things differently and be one of the "popular kids" this time. I don't consider myself a "popular" person now but I do have more friends and am more social that I once was. This is why I thought in my delusional mind that I would go to work and everything would be fabulous.
There is stress in the job I wanted so badly I could taste it. That it has left a bad taste in my mouth. I was so excited to be going to work in this place that I was jumping up and down when I got the call for it. Life is not always what you imagine it will be nor is work. My "crap job" is becoming almost a welcome relief at this point. I hope that things will get better. I know they will, patience is not my strongest suit. I am not good at waiting and seeing. I'm so bad at it that when I was a child I would unwrap Christmas gifts ahead of time and re wrap them and wait for my mom to get up. I no longer do that. But seriously, why can't we all just get along?

Imagine what the world would be if we all got along. Work places everywhere would run more smoothly because everyone got along and worked together. Households would run more smoothly because parents wouldn't have to break up fights all day. The world would just run more smoothly if everyone would JUST GET ALONG. I'm old, I'm too tired for the drama. You want drama? Watch House or Days of Our Lives. Save the drama for TV and just get along. You can say I'm old fashioned or just plain crazy. I don't care because I'm telling you life would be grand if you tried it. There is the challenge. Pick a day to start. Perhaps tomorrow or if you don't like to start new things mid-week try Monday. Just pick a day and decide it starts here. From this day forward I'm going to just get along. No fighting or drama, no talking behind people's backs. If you have something to say just say it to them but do it nicely so you can get along. Start with yourself be the example others will follow I know it. It will be like the old Breck commercials they told two friends then they told two friends pretty soon the entire town could be getting along. We could get national attention it could spread to the entire state, then the entire country. Then who knows the entire world could get along. It could be the entire world God hoped and dreamed it would be. Try it! I think you'd like it. Just Get Along!

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Fashion Diva or Fashion Faux Pas

Oh how I love fashion. I love fashion so much that I am addicted to Project Runway and What Not To Wear. I love it so much that I changed clothes 3 times before leaving for work this morning. I work with children it shouldn't be that complicated. Yet every morning no matter what the day or where I am going I hear these voices in my head asking me what would Clinton and Stacy think? Of course my shoes are always wrong therefore, I must have at least 60 pairs of shoes to choose from right? Does it count if I get them from payless on bogo? I cannot afford to dress the way I think I should according to Stacy and Clinton I have thought about going to rummage sales and filling my closet with the ugliest clothes I can find so I can be nominated for the show and get the $5000 shopping spree in New York. Can I just tell you that I don't care how childish I sound that would be a dream come true for me. To get to go to New York and spend that much money would be so cool. All those name brands that I only go to EBay and drool over cause I can't buy them there either.
Project Runway I discovered when my cousin was visiting me from another state and now record so as not to miss an episode. I wanted to become a fashion designer or buyer when I was growing up. I design jewelry in my house and sell it to people I already know. Does that count? I doubt it. I think perhaps it makes me a "wannabe". I believe that's what the kids would call it these days. I am of course entirely too old to be this in to fashion. I am a complete embarrassment to my children. And I cringe if someone in my family doesn't match. I have made people in my family change their clothes before we go out.
Oh stop it I hear you. I am not likely to change I refrain myself quite a bit. (sigh) If only there were more hours in the day so I could transform myself into the fashion diva I long to be. Nothing brings me more joy than my children and nothing brings me more entertainment than a good Nicholas Sparks book but nothing and I mean NOTHING delights me more when shopping than finding a good clearance sale. Oh how I love a bargain....

Friday, September 5, 2008

How To Turn A Crap Job Into a Job You Love!

How do you turn a crap job into a job you love you ask? Well here I would like to explain exactly what a crap job to me is. I work two days a week at a crap job so I have some experience. What makes this a crap job is purely and utterly There I said it. I know it I am the only one making myself miserable in this crap job. Or am I? I work ten hours a week in a dead end job where I work with teenagers half my age. You would think I could bring something to the table give them quips and words of wisdom from all my vast experiences. You would think they would take one look at the old lady working beside them and want to do a good job at work. You would think that since I have actually played cards with the boss that they would say to themselves "gee I probably shouldn't be on my facebook page while Im at work with the old lady she may tell the boss man." But NO and do you know why? Because that generation has no respect for their elders (of which I am one of) and no respect for a job well done and apparently we are raising an entire generation that has no idea how to clean anything. I mean come on I expect it from my kids and my husband even. Trash left on the counter, things left on the floor at home. But at work? You best be steppin baby cause the old lady is about to blow her stack.
You are at work you should work. There is plenty to be done and if you cannot find something to do go to the restroom and clean that cause it is lookin mighty rank. Oh and in case you missed the memo on your pay check wear your hat or a hair net. I don't want your hair in my food and neither does anyone else. I let it go the first time the next time I will ask you to put one or the other on your head or I will come back there and make my food myself and show my kids how a person is supposed to take pride in their work.

Ok enough ranting. That my friends is the description of a crap job as described by me. Now how to make your crap job less crappy.
1. Quit (if that is not an option as it isn't one for me either move to number 2)
2. Complain until you either get to quit or get fired. (that one isn't working for me either move to number 3)
3. Plan your take over. I work 2 days a week and have worked for 3 or 4 or 100 weeks now. It doesn't really matter. I have decided the only way to make it through this tragedy is to plan my slow but steady take over. By the time I have finished not only will they respect me and do what I tell them but they will fear me like they should. That place will run like a well oiled machine and I will have the satisfaction of knowing that even though I get paid in pennies I have made it a better place to work for all.
4. You don't want to take over you say? You don't long for hostile takeovers and have a need to reign terror over others? Hmm......Gosh....I guess you need to see number 1.

Friday, July 25, 2008

But I Can Google With The Best Of Them!

As you may know I will re-enter the work force this year. I have been on a thirteen year hiatus for the most part with a few periods of work here and there. When my husband and I married we agreed that: A. We would have children, and B. I would stay home to raise them until they were all in school. This is the year they will all be in school. I'm scared! I tell my children that they need to plan for a career that does not involve "would you like fries with that?". I will be entering the fast food business. There aren't any fries involved or I would have to put my foot down.
I have worked hard for thirteen years. I just haven't gotten paid for it. Today's society expects that you will work and not stay home. I feel fortunate that I was given that opportunity. However, I can't help but worry how potential interviews could go. I watched the movie "Mad Money" with Diane Keaton recently and it got me to thinking about this quite a bit actually. If and when I would go on potential interviews I'm sure I would be asked depending upon the position of course about my computer skills I would have to be honest, I have helped type school reports for my children, I have my own blog, and I can Google with the best of them! I have no idea what excel looks like I don't know how to sell on eBay I only know how to buy and if I knew how to decorate this blog differently it would be WAY sassier. Here are my skills: I can cook a meal from a box very well, I can sew to an extent, I have been a caregiver for my family and my mother, I clean my house, do the laundry, shopping, mowing, decorating, I design jewelry, I run the "mom's taxi cab", and I am pretty good and planning a funeral. I have two associate degrees that qualify me for kissing boo boos and having garage sales. Which is pretty much what I have done for the past thirteen years. Oh and parties, I can plan a child's birthday party that will knock your socks off! Now what should I be when I grow up?
The age old question. Along with and where do you work? They always ask that don't they? You'll be in a Walmart or the mall and you will run into someone you went to school with or someone you just haven't seen in 10 to 20 years and they always want to know if they are better off than you are. And where are you working? I am standing there with three kids hanging off of me man this IS work. All of them are staying with me not running around not eating the candy in the check out lane just hanging with me while I try to get away from the question before it is asked and there it is. Because you know they have become a rocket scientist or a marine biologist or maybe a cardiovascular surgeon. I am happy for them. I am also happy for me because I got to stay home and get to know some of the greatest kids on the planet. I just wish people would say something like "That is great or It looks like you've done a good job!" Instead of the "Oh, I see".
So I will re-enter the work force this year and get a "real job" I may not be a rocket scientist, or a marine biologist but by golly I can Google with the best of them!

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Wanted Dead or Alive?

Dear Diary,
In this update I would love to say something witty or funny. I would love to be fantastically profound. However, all I can say is my cousin borrowed a car drove to my other cousins home for some reason then as he was driving back he drove into a tree and died. I received this phone call from my uncle this evening while out to dinner and returned the phone call right before heading into the movies to see Wanted. I have to go and hold it all together again tomorrow.
In the last eight years in my family we have lost my grandmother, my cousins little girl, my aunt, my mother, my other aunt, and now one of my cousins. That is all on my mother's side of the family. Last year my grandfather on my dad's side of the family died and I had a miscarriage. We have had our share of losses for sure.
While watching this movie which is about pretty much a bunch of people killing each other, it occurs to me, why, while sure its entertaining to watch Angelina Jolie drive a car hanging out the front window while shooting guns, should we watch people die on the big screen while people are dying all around us. I have been to more funerals than I care to remember. The name of that movie proposes a quandary really. Wanted, wanted for what? Wanted to love? Wanted to kill? What ARE we wanted for? Well I will tell you what I am wanted for. I am wanted to hold it together. That is my job. It's what I do. My grandmother had seven children two are still living. Seven grandchildren six still living. I can't help but question my mortality at a time like this. I am certain that I am not the only one who wonders who will be next. I will go tomorrow and hold everyone together while they make decisions they should not have to make. Where will he be buried?, who will perform the service?, who is in charge?, why did this happen?, can we get a group rate?
Seriously, can we? We have had enough funerals in our family at this mortuary we should start getting discounts. They already know what music to play. They already have the guest list. They have seen our faces so many times we should be invited to the company bar-b-cue. We help pay the bills.
I will carry the tissues, hold the hands and tell them all that I am so sorry and that it is going to be OK. We will get through this. And do you know how I know this? Because we are professionals at this. We will get through this because it is what we do. We get through this and get through this and get through this quite a bit. I am the oldest grandchild. Out of the seven grandchildren only two still have a mother. I am 36 am I the mother to the clan? No one calls me or comes to visit unless it is a holiday that sounds about right for adult children who don't think their mother approves of their life style doesn't it?
Hmm, Wanted? I know I am wanted. My husband and my children want me. God wants me too. I have spent some time thinking about what God wants me to do. Thirty six years actually. I still am not sure. But I think it has something to do with taking care of my family and perhaps making sure others know they're wanted too. I'm not sure how it works. My cousin was given up by his mother and adopted by her sister when he was three. His sister was passed between my aunt, my mother, my grandmother, and foster homes. I wonder if they have ever felt wanted. Did anyone ever tell them they were wanted? I wonder how anyone knows they are wanted. My mother cared for me and raised me my whole life. My father came for birthdays and Christmas'. I never once felt wanted. My father had things to do. My mother was married to a man who didn't like children. I had a mother who I know loved me and father who I have always known loved me but didn't always know how to express it. I have never once felt wanted. How on earth could those two kids ever feel wanted with all they went through as children? There is a difference between feeling loved and truly wanted. I hope with all my might my children know how wanted they are. I love them and want them with all that I am and all that I hope to be. I say hope to be because I know God is not finished with me yet.
I hope you all know that God loves and wants all of you. You are WANTED!

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Wash, Rinse, Lysol, Repeat

Oh the joys of motherhood. As many of you know my birthday was Tuesday. I don't want to celebrate my birthday it isn't for me something I celebrate anymore. I only continue for the sake of my children. They love it. If there is a birthday going on count them in especially if there is cake involved. So it started out like any other day get up feed the kids. My husband took them to go buy me gifts and I went to go pay a bill. Came home waited to go have lunch with my father and his wife.
So we go have lunch he asks me what do you want for your birthday you didn't call and tell me anything. I say "dad I'm (insert appropriate age here), a married mother of 3 I'm not going to call you and tell you about a toy I just saw on TV." I think if you want to give me a gift you can come over today after lunch and go swimming and spend some time with me and your grandchildren getting to know them. That would be gift enough. To which he says "I have things to do." To which his wife says, "We can do them later." So they came over. Everything was going along fine. Until...(insert scary music of your choice here) One child mom my eye hurts, next child mom my side hurts. OK rub a little dirt on it and get back out there. You don't understand grandpa NEVER comes here unless its Christmas eve. Go play!
Mom of the year right here! So yesterday we went to the medical clinic. The painful eye kid has pink eye and a double ear infection. The painful side kid does not have appendicitis which is good news just a bladder infection. So the days following my fall to the "other side" of life, age wise, I get to wash, rinse, Lysol, repeat. Did I mention my arthritis has kicked in?

Monday, July 14, 2008

A Letter To My Mother

Dear Mom, It's been four years today since you left to be with Jesus. I want you to know there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about you. After you left I fell apart. I didn't know how I could possibly go on without you. The pain was so severe I fell into a very deep pit of depression. I want you to know I am better now. The Lord has lifted me from the pit and even though I will always miss you, my life will go on.
The kids are getting so big. You wouldn't believe how big and how beautiful they are. They talk about you and want to hear stories about you. You would be so proud of them. Our boy will be going to school this year, he was just a baby when you left. He has my eyes and beautiful blonde hair. There are so many activities the kids are in and sometimes my mini me reminds me of you. You are still here all around me. I hope I make you proud. I'm so sorry. I really did try very hard. I will always love you.
Love, Me

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Party Planner Extraordinare

I had a party yesterday. Not for any of my children or my husband. I had a party for myself. It was my birthday gift actually. I asked to have a party with all my friends without any husbands or children. A relaxing afternoon by the pool, some nice food, some nice friends and I think a good time was had by all. It is not often as a mother you get to spend time with friends without having constant interruptions by the kids or other responsibilities. I don't want to sound rude, I love my children very much I have dedicated my life to loving and caring for them. However, I do feel as a woman it is important that we nurture ourselves and each other also. The kids also need to see as they get older friendships may change and evolve but in the end a true friend is always there for you. So this party of mine may become an annual event, as one friend thinks it should be, or perhaps a semiannual event.
Who knows perhaps I may become a party planner for other people. I have to grow up and become a career woman eventually. So for all of you that like a party but hate the planning. Let me know. And for all of you skeptics out there who say life is about hard work and having a job you hate. I say, you've never been to a party like mine before, because these parties take a lot of planning and hard work but the key is to make sure everyone has a good time and if you can make it look effortless. Who says life can't be a party?

Friday, July 11, 2008

My Left Arm Returned Now Where Did My Right Arm Go?

Have you ever read the book "Walk Two Moons?" It is a lovely book that I read with my 4th grader this last school year. In the book the mother called her daughter her left arm. She would say something to the effect of "Salamanca Hiddle my left arm." So since we have read this book my 4th grader is my left arm and my 6th grader is my right arm. I suppose I should call them 5th and 7th graders now that is just really hard to admit to. I suppose my kindergartener is my hands or my legs I have no idea. So on with the story. My 5th grader and my 7th grader have both gone to a camp nearby this summer for one week each at different times. My 5th grader went first and had a great time I only received one phone call stating that she was mildly injured and perhaps I could get her to rub a little dirt on it and get back out there as my husband would say. Which is precisely what I told her to do. She was fine and had a great time. When I dropped her off and got out to the car I cried. When we picked her up her sister and I both cried I felt as though my left arm had been missing for a week. My Right Arm gets picked up today. This was her first time going to camp also. A lot harder for her to go than it was for the other one mostly because we made her go. She didn't want to go and when we got there she didn't know anyone there. I received 2 phone called begging me to come get her I refused. After the second phone call I never heard another word from her just a call from a friend working at the camp saying she was having a great time and not to worry she is fine. That was the toughest refusal I have made. I knew once she gave it a chance she would have a great time, however hearing your child cry and not being able to hold her and comfort her was very difficult. It had to be done. I can't wait till my Right Arm comes home today I will hold her and I will cry and she will cry, her sister will probably laugh at us both.

Dancing Queen or Lets See If Those Chicken Wings Can Fly?

Oh the wonderful world of dance. I love dance I really do I love to watch dance I love to dance my self, although I believe I lost all the moves I once had in the postnatal drip. I can "churn the butter," "start the mower," and do "the q-tip"(think Hitch) with the best of them. However never once in my wildest thoughts and hopes and dreams does it occur to me that I want to, at my age, dance on stage for all the world to see. My children dance. All three of them take lessons they take between them perhaps close to every form they offer. Hip Hop, Jazz, Ballet, Musical Theatre, Modern, Lyrical, and my oldest daughter's favorite is Tap. I will and do sit and watch them dance for hours in their recitals twice a year. I drive them to practice after practice, I sit and wait and wait till I think I can't do this anymore.
I sit and talk to other mothers who are waiting for their children to get finished and some of them I have gotten to know quite well. Some of them wanted to take an adult hip hop class this last year and asked me to do this with them. I said no. They joined realized how difficult it was, how expensive it was, and perhaps heard my snickering and quit. I believe everyone should be allowed to take a dance class as long as you are taking it for the right reasons, personal growth, exercise, increased energy, making new friends perhaps. Never because you are middle aged didn't get to make a debut as a child and want to relive the "glory years." NO ONE wants to see that! I certainly don't nor would anyone I know. Dance in your kitchen, living room, heck dance in your back yard you own it who is anyone to judge what you do in your yard as long as it doesn't break any codes or laws, go for it. Personally I dance when no one is around in the privacy of my privacy fence when I'm almost certain no one is around to see me, even my children, who by the way find my dancing hideous and a complete embarrassment.
My point and I do have one, unless you dance as well or better than the dance teacher you should not as an adult be in a dance recital for children. Unless you think people need a nap halfway into the show or want to be comic relief. There I've said my peace. From one chicken winged old woman to another save yourselves the costume money enjoy the dance class then watch the kids from the audience like everyone else.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Have you seen this cat?

My new neighbors have a very rambunctious and adorable puppy. They also have a cat. I think. My new friend tells me she has a cat. I've seen the cat door for the cat area. They moved in in October I think. I have been there inside the house. My son plays there frequently. No one has seen the mysterious cat. I suppose it exists in the real world they seem like very normal people. They seem to only have one personality no multiples going on over there. Although they were psych majors perhaps they are just better at covering these things up. Perhaps it is an imaginary cat. Perhaps it is a stuffed cat and they have very active imaginations. I don't know. I will continue on the quest to find the mysterious cat whenever I go there. They really are very kind and generous people even if they have a mysterious cat. So I am asking everyone out there........Have YOU seen this cat? If so send me a picture. Thanks!

Are Fun Nights Really That Fun?

So I'm on this committee for a 6Th grade fun night. I signed up for purely selfish reasons. I wanted to go to Chicago with my child on a field trip. Possibly the last field trip I will be allowed to participate in as she is growing up and leaving me in the dust faster that I can count. So this is how it works they lure you in with the promise of a guaranteed spot on this field trip if you sign up to be on this committee. Being the push over I am I signed up. Perhaps push over is too light of a word. Perhaps sucker would be more appropriate. Anyway I signed up thinking "how hard can this be it's a sixth grade party." I should have known better, I thought I knew better, I was wrong.
So I was lured in at this prospect and then I was hung within an inch of my being once I got there. I have planned parties, I planned my entire wedding and reception. When I was a mere child I pulled off a surprise birthday party for my mother and then again pulled one off as an adult. I am a grown woman with party planning experience for crying out loud. I should be qualified to come up with a mere eight games decorate them and move on. I am not. The theme of this wondrous event for children who read a bountiful amount of books (3) is American Idol. Very difficult to come up with games for that theme with limited space, equipment, and electrical outlets. But we did it. We have everything (I think) pretty much ready for Friday night.
Here is the kicker the children you and so deserving of a party are apparently not deserving enough to party with their friends. They have been divided up into groups by teachers that they are to go from station to station with a guide like a bunch of foreign tourists to the White House. They aren't with their friends at all. In fact my child doesn't even want to go.
So my question....Are fun nights really that fun if you can't go to game when you choose, eat when you choose and in general act goofy with your friends and make memories you can laugh about later?
Oh and guess what? I get to do it all again in two years! And again in five years. I have met some nice people and as nut as this entire thing has made me and don't get me wrong I can't wait to get my life back. I will be excited to try my hand at again. I may be a glutton for punishment.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

My Son The Preacher Man

I just love my son. He is five years old and everyday I am reminded that not only am I not "Smarter Than a 5Th Grader" but I am also not smarter than a five year old. My grandmother says he is the next Billy Graham. He may very well be. Last year my grandfather had a stroke and was very ill while he was in the hospital my grandmother was as you would expect very distraught. My son listening to our conversation interrupts to tell her "you don't need to worry about grandpa God is with him and don't worry about being alone He is with you too." Grandpa eventually went to be with Jesus.

He always makes sure we say our mealtime prayer no matter where we are. At Christmas at my grandmother's house everyone was getting their food and he says to my grandma "Isn't anyone going to bless this food?" So my aunt said a prayer so everyone could eat.

So last week he is drawing pictures because he is "such a little artist" as he says and he draws a picture with two paths. One leads to a sign that says Go the other leads to a sign that says Stop. He says to me "mommy do you know how to get to heaven?" I said "yes but why don't you tell me anyway" He says "look at my picture there are two paths one leads to the sign that says go, the other leads to the sign that says stop." I said "yes I see that." He said "well mom if you take this path here you believe in Jesus and you get to go to heaven." I said "OK" He said "if you take this other path you don't believe in Jesus and you have to stop and you don't get to go to heaven do you know where you go?" I said "tell me" He said "well you don't go to heaven I can tell you that"

So this week I went to a spa party and my husband was home with the children. My son was playing and interactive bible game on the TV. He goes into the kitchen and asks for a piece of bread. My husband says "sure do you want some butter or peanut butter on it?" He says "no just the bread" So my husband gets it for him and then my son asks "Could I have some wine or no sorry juice" My husband looks into the fridge and says "we have orange juice or Hawaiian Punch" My son says "OK Hawaiian Punch will work" He proceeds to hold his bread and juice look down and pray and take his version of communion in our kitchen.

My son, if only everyone could have your faith. He also likes to inform me that even though he loves me a lot he loves Jesus and God best. Keep shining that light son keep shining that light so that all the world will see HIM through you.

Shrink Me Please!

So I have some new neighbors. They are fabulous, wonderfully kind people. They have my son's best buddy. The boys play and have a great time together. My son went to their house yesterday to play. I told my new friend that I needed to run to a neighboring town to pick up my daughters cake. Would he be ok there while I went. Sure she says, actually I need to run into town also can I come with? Sure I said great!
And then it happened. The girls got home from school, I told them what we were going to do. I warned them there would be someone coming with us. They saw her walk into our home. And yet.....still trouble ensued. "I need a snack" one says. "Bring it with you" I say. "Actually what if we went a little farther to this other store" I say. "Then I'll stay home and I'm not going" she says. "Fine forget it we won't go there" I say. We finally get into the car and get on our way. Meanwhile one arguement after another. Get there..."can we buy this?" "can we buy that?" "sure we can use that." Time to go. Get into the car to drive to get cake and go home. Get Cake and start voyage home. Fight ensues. "She's kicking me" "She looked at me" "Why are you sitting together anyway?" "Sit on your hand and cross your legs" "look out of opposite windows" They are twelve and ten. Meanwhile the new neighbor friend is holding the cake hoping for the ride to end. Did I mention they were psych majors? Shrink me please!

Friday, March 21, 2008

Party Animal or Glutton for Punishment?

I recently hosted a slumber party for my oldest daughter who just turned twelve. We had five girls plus my two. If you think this sounds crazy. My ten year old daughter usually invites twelve girls. The five was like a walk in the park. I fed them, we played a couple games, decorated locker mirrors, and I introduced them to the wonders of the DVR. All in all I think a good time was had by all. I enjoy throwing parties. Mind you I stress about the house, what we will do, and if I will embarrass my children enough to keep them on their toes yet not scar them for life. I never had a slumber party as a child, so I want to make sure my children don't miss out on any fun.