The Gen X Mom Files

Am I really all that thankful?

2011-11-17T11:01:00.002-06:00

I have been resisting the game so many of my friends are playing on Facebook of listing things I am thankful for during Thanksgiving. This is normally something I would do, and, last year I think I was one of the first of my friends to play this game.

Don't get me wrong, I am thankful. But I didn't want to be redundant and list all the typical things. I was thinking of doing it but being thankful for obscure things.

But recently, my little family has been going through a hard time. Luckily, we are solid and strong, but it has been enough to shake things up quite a bit.

Today, one of my best friends sent me a devotional about how we have to be thankful for things in the midst of the worst of situations. The devotional said,

"I find this truth about the power of thanksgiving over and over in Scripture. What was the prayer Daniel prayed right before being thrown in the lion’s den and witnessing God miraculously shutting the lion’s mouths? Thanksgiving.

After three days in the belly of a fish, what was the cry of Jonah’s heart right before he was finally delivered onto dry land? Thanksgiving.

How are we instructed to pray in Philippians 4:6 when we feel anxious? With thanksgiving.

And what is the outcome of each of these situations where thanksgiving is proclaimed? Peace.

Powerful, unexplainable, uncontainable peace.

“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7, NIV).

One of Webster’s official definitions of thanksgiving is: “a public acknowledgment or celebration of divine goodness.”

So I decided that in the midst of the adversity I am experiencing, I will be thankful. So here are some things I am truly thankful for today:

The most amazing, resilient, funny, smart, handsome, awesome sons that God ever created. They make my world brighter every moment of the day.

A loving, hard working, generous, protective, providing husband who would do anything for me and his boys.

Prayerful and encouraging friends who not only pick me up when I stumble but hold me accountable when I am not living up to my end of the bargain, especially concerning my relationship with God.

Wonderful parents who have gone, will go and are going to great lengths to help me and my family however they can.

The ability to advocate for not only my family, but all the kids I in which I come into contact.

Amazing coworkers who help me every day and who love kids and do what's best for them.

Courage to do what is right even when it is the hardest thing to do.

Kids in my life who show me love and affection and make me feel important in their worlds.

Findlay, the dog I am convinced God sent me last week. She is the exact dog I always hoped I would have someday. I am once again astounded that God answers specific prayers in miraculous ways.

A social service community that helps people. Really helps people, in specific ways.

Most of all, I am thankful for my personal Jesus, who knows me, loves me in spite of myself, and works all things or the good of those who love Him. Even little old me.

How My Son Redeemed Me

2011-04-17T17:18:00.004-05:00

I was having one of those moments. A moment where the filter in my brain was turned off and whatever scrolled across my mind immediately exited my lips.

My boys and I were at Chic Fil A, which is our favorite fast food place. It was 2 p.m. and we were just eating lunch. So, of course, we were all cranky. We got our food and then gather up all the condiments, make it to our table and start to sort out our food. This was all feeling very stressful at the time.

Will, my 6 year old, knocked over his drink, and just a little spilled. I handed him a napkin and told him to hurry up and clean it up. And then he tried to hand the used, wet napkin back to me and I hatefully replied, "I'm not a trash can."

Normally, I wouldn't have thought much more about it and chalked it up to extreme hunger and stress. But today a mom and her 3-year-old son were sitting at a table behind us. Just after I quipped my non-trash can remark, the little boy behind me says, "Mommy, I'm not a trash can either." The mom was sweet and gentle and engaged her son in a long funny conversation about if he was a trash can or a garbage truck and which would be better.

I was horrified at my behavior. I was regretting my words. I started to wonder what that sweet, kind mother was thinking of my terse comment that I had for my sweet 6 year old. The mommy guilt was swallowing me whole. I of course regretted sounding so sharp and cranky.

The rest of lunch was uneventful. We all perked up after we had some food in our bellies and the crankiness went away. The boys got ice cream cones and all was right in the world, except for my mommy guilt.

Suddenly, Will asked me to hold his ice cream cone, and I obliged. He got up from the table and left me wondering what in the world he was doing. I watched as he walked to the condiment area, picked up a straw off the floor and followed a woman and her baby to their table. He tapped her shoulder and said, "Excuse me, but I think you dropped this." The woman was caught by surprise and thanked Will for his kindness.

I was speechless and I felt my eyes warm with tears. Will walked back over and sat down and thought nothing of his random act of kindness. He took his ice cream cone and started in eating it.

My heart was about to burst. I couldn't have been more proud of my son. My goal is to raise him to be a kind man, and this showed that he was well on his way. "I am so proud of you son. That was awesome," I said, trying not to cry in a public place.

Then I heard the voice of the woman with the little boy at the table behind me. "Yes, that was awesome," she said. "You don't see that everyday.

I turned to see her eyes filled with tears, too. She was also amazed at Will's thoughtfulness. We chit chatted a little after that and laughed at how emotional we had gotten at such a little thing.

And then, instead of feeling like a bad mom, I knew that my son's actions had redeemed me. My son's kind actions spoke louder than my cranky words.

It reminded me of another way I have been redeemed by a son. God sent His son to redeem me from my sins. Jesus' sacrifice not only redeemed me from cranky words said in public, but for every sin I have ever committed and will ever commit.

As each nail entered Jesus' hand and foot, it represented my sin. As Jesus was whipped and beaten and mocked, he suffered for the things I have done. As Jesus was separated from God, the unimaginable anguish he felt was because of the sins I have committed.

Jesus' actions on the cross redeemed me from a life apart from God and made it possible for me to bury my old life and live a new life in God.

As proud as I am of my son's simple kind act at Chic Fil A, I can't imagine the deep pride God must have felt when Jesus ministered to the lost and eventually sacrificed his life on the cross so I could live. There has never been a more redeeming act ever made.

And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” Matthew 3:17

Finding My Voice Again

2011-03-19T19:20:00.003-05:00

It's been a while since I have posted. Part of the reason why is that I have been busy with a new career. Working full time has been a huge change, not just for me, but also for my family. Finding time to do the things I enjoy, such as writing, has been difficult.

But the other part of the reason I haven't posted has been because I have lost my voice. Today, I am trying to find it again.

I have done a little writing this year. In fact, the writing I have done has been my favorite style that I have ever composed. It has recently been on display in major ways throughout the U.S. and even abroad.

I admitted today to my mom that the reason I haven't written more has been because I am afraid that I am not good enough. I have doubt. What if I've outreached my potential? What if I run out of things to say? What if I'm being judged, or worse, laughed at, and I don't know it?

Self doubt has crept in. I have let it control me.

But now, I am going to work on overcoming my insecurities and charge ahead.

After all, the biggest risks also carry the biggest rewards.

Scars

2010-05-09T18:22:00.001-05:00

When I was two years old, I was playing with my doll in my living room. I tossed her across the room and then ran after her. My clutzy nature had already started because just before I reached my doll, I tripped and fell face first, crashing into the ground. My chin was the first part of my body to hit, which slammed my little mouth closed. Unfortunately, my bottom lip was under my front teeth at that moment and I ended up biting all the way through it. There was blood, a trip to the Emergency Room and several stitches that followed. As a result I have a nice white scar, still to this day, that you can see on my bottom lip when I pull it tight against my teeth. It was my first scar.

Over the next three decades, I have accrued many more scars. Knee surgeries, wrist surgeries, mishaps with scissors, skids on pavement on my knees and other accidents have scarred my body. Fortunately, all that’s left are the scars. There is no more pain associated with the old injuries. They have long since healed, although I wouldn’t be surprised if I earned a couple of more during the course of my life. After all, I am still a clutz.

I also have scars that no one really sees. They are emotional scars I have received in the last 35 years. There have been bad things that have happened to me that have left their mark on my life. Those ‘wounds’ have healed. However, they are still there and affect my decision making sometimes. This might mean I back away from a challenge when I should face it head on. It might mean that I make a decision based on fear instead of in confidence. It also might mean I have learned a painful lesson already and won’t make the same mistake again.

The Apostle Paul was also scarred. He speaks of a mysterious ‘thorn in his flesh’ that he asked to be taken from him. In 2 Corinthians, Paul speaks of amazing visions he received from the Lord. Then in verse 7 it says, “So to keep me from becoming proud, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger from Satan to torment me and keep me from becoming proud.” (New Living Translation) This surely left a scar in Paul’s flesh.

Like anyone, Paul hated the thorn in his flesh. In fact, he says in verses 8-10, “Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away. Each time he said, ‘My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.’ So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. That’s why I take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (New Living Translation)

Paul’s thorn made him rely up on God’s grace because that is how God works. He needs us to draw on his strength when we are weak. He needs us to let go of the control and turn over the steering wheel to Him. This must have not been easy for Paul. Besides the thorn in his flesh, Paul spoke about Christ to his detriment many, many times. He was jailed and beaten repeatedly, but that did not stop him from spreading Christ’s message of forgiveness to anyone who would listen, even the jailers who kept him imprisoned.

After all that Paul had gone through to spread Christ’s message, he got pretty tired of hearing about stuff in life that didn’t really matter. Specifically in Galatians, chapter 6, Paul closes his letter to the churches in southern Glatia, in his own handwriting to emphasize his seriousness. (Paul used a scribe to write the rest of his letters.) There was a problem in these churches. Some people were forcing circumcision on people in order to be able to brag that they had converted them. All the while, the people forcing circumcision were not keeping the law themselves.

Paul said in verses 14-16, “For my part, I am going to boast about nothing but the Cross of our Master, Jesus Christ. Because of that Cross, I have been crucified in relation to the world, set free from the stifling atmosphere of pleasing others and fitting into the little patterns that they dictate. Can't you see the central issue in all this? It is not what you and I do—submit to circumcision, reject circumcision. It is what God is doing, and he is creating something totally new, a free life! All who walk by this standard are the true Israel of God—his chosen people. Peace and mercy on them!” (The Message)

What God had done for Paul is let him experience many physically and emotionally painful circumstances so that God could be glorified. Paul got it. The people who he was talking about did not. “Quite frankly, I don't want to be bothered anymore by these disputes. I have far more important things to do—the serious living of this faith. I bear in my body scars from my service to Jesus.” (Galatians 6:17, The Message)

These scars proved that Paul had served Jesus Christ, his personal Lord and Savior. Paul’s beatings, the thorn in his flesh, his misery, were not wasted on him. He could look down at each scar and see the reminder about what his life was all about. Everyone who knew Paul knew that he was a follower and teacher of Christ Jesus. When they saw his scars, they also knew that he earned those while following Christ.

Thank God we live in a country where we are free to profess Christ, follow Him and teach others about him openly. We don’t face beatings, floggings, or imprisonment when we follow Christ. Especially in Oklahoma, we are surrounded by other people who believe the same way we do. There are churches everywhere you look and plenty of denominations to choose from. The little resistance we do face in some areas cannot compare to the persecution Paul faced, as do many people in other corners of the world.

Yet, I believe we have scars, too. They might be mostly positive scars, but they are there. They are the things people see when they look at us that identify us as a follower of Christ. Maybe it’s the cross necklace you wear. Or maybe it is something intangible. Maybe it is the spirit they see in you. Maybe it’s the light you shine in dark corners.

So what are your scars? What are the marks that tell others that you belong to Christ? Do you cover them with long sleeves and make up, or do you show them off proudly to the world? Do you let others know who you belong to? Do you leave any room for doubt? I am challenged by the Apostle Paul to quit hiding my scars and embrace them. I want others to see Christ in me as they saw Christ in Paul. I may have a long way to go, but rolling up my sleeves is the first step.

A 15-Year Path

2010-04-19T18:31:00.004-05:00

I really want to write about what today means to me, but I am finding it hard to put into words. And if you know me, that is pretty unusual.

As you probably know, it is the 15th anniversary of the Oklahoma City Bombing. A coward terrorist drove a moving truck in front of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building and ran. That bomb killed 168 men, women and children.

I was 20 and working at the University of Oklahoma student newspaper. I still lived at home with my parents. I was at the scene an hour after the explosion and covered the bombing for weeks. Actually, it was months and even years. I have written about the bombing time and time again. I have written for newspapers, yearbooks and for myself.

You think I would have said it all by now. But this year, God is once again reminding me that He is still using those events to grow me and mold me to who I am and who I will be.

I could tell you so many stories from that day and the days that followed. They are burned into my memory as if they just happened. I recently did an interview about my experience and the reporter was amazed at my recall. I wasn't. Besides the day I became a Christian, the day I was married, and the day my children were born, there has been no other day or event in my life that has been as meaningful to me as the Oklahoma City Bombing.

There are many reasons that it is so meaningful. Most importantly, my search for God began through that experience, even though I didn't know that God was who I was searching for. I am proud to say that I found him some four years later.

It is also meaningful to me because of the people with whom I shared the experience: my coworkers at The Oklahoma Daily. Omar, Joy, Tiffany, Lori, Annette and many, many others poured their heart and souls into covering the stories as professionally as possible. Although we have all moved on in different directions, that event binds us in a way that I can't even describe. Although hundreds, maybe thousands, of journalists covered the bombing, there were just a few of us who were so young. We all changed because of our experience, and I would argue we all grew up because of it.

This year, however, what has impacted me the most is where I am today, 15 years later. The one thing I was sure of after covering the bombing 15 years ago is that I couldn't grow up and just be a journalist. While I love writing and reporting and covering things that are meaningful, I was left filling extremely unfulfilled from my experience of just writing about things and not helping directly.

That experience taught me something about myself. I needed to do more than write; I needed to be able to take action. I saw the way the American Red Cross responded to the disaster and thought that was my calling. After a few years more in journalism after the bombing, I went to work for the Red Cross, even working at the fifth anniversary memorial service when they opened the national memorial as a Red Crosser.

Although I loved the Red Cross and all that it did for people (and still do), that wasn't my calling. I kept looking in all sorts of places. I started to hear the call from God that I should be a counselor. That seemed out of reach. I knew I would need a Master's Degree and an entirely different education before I could do that, and life was in the way of achieving that goal.

I tried once to make it happen, and even started a Master's program. However, after taking just one class, I dropped out. I had a baby and a job in another town. It was just too hard. But God never took away that call from my life. I talked about becoming a counselor a lot to a lot of different people. My family, my friends, even my pastor. But I always had an excuse of why I couldn't do it.

Finally, this last year, God set loose a chain of events that left me with no doubt that now was the time to pursue His call on my life. I started the same program again in August and will have earned my Master's Degree in Human Relations by this August. If all goes according to plan, I will attain my alternate certification to be a school counselor, and if I am blessed, I will be a working school counselor by this August.

I am going to be a counselor. I really am. And I am going to do it because of the way God changed me 15 years ago today. He showed me a part of myself that I didn't know that I had and has used the last 15 years to bring me to where I am now.

Today, I was interning as a counselor in a middle school. And I got to have a long talk with a beautiful young lady who I care about deeply. She has had a rough past and is doing all that she can to overcome her circumstances. I was able to encourage her and love her and tell her that I believed in her. And she smiled at me. That was the perfect reward for my hard work.

She wasn't even alive 15 years ago, but God knew when the bombing occurred where I would be today and what I would be doing. And he has used every moment of my life up until now preparing me for today and for my future.

The most wonderful thing about all of this is that what was meant for evil 15 years ago has eventually turned into hope and love. A coward killed 168 people and devastated each of those families and their friends. Not to mention the devastation faced by rescue workers and all those who experience the Oklahoma City Bombing so closely.

However, the spirit of Oklahomans and the nation would not let a coward's act end there. We have worked to make the most out of a horrible situation. The result has been unity, affection, selflessness, victory and survival.

For me, it has meant that I could fulfill the call God has always had on my life and serve Him while doing so. Of course I wish that the bombing hadn't happened, but I am so grateful for all the lessons I have learned because it did.

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,' declares the LORD." - Jeremiah 29:11-14a

Am I Willing?

2010-04-06T17:43:00.004-05:00

I have accepted the challenge through a local church to read the New Testament in 40 days. I was hesitant to do this at first because of how ridiculously busy April is in my little world. However, God has reminded me more than once that for me, being busy distracts me from spending time with Him, so I agreed.

Today was the second day of our reading, and we read a few chapters in one of the Gospels, the book of Luke. Out of all that I read today, something I read today (and have read before) has stayed with me all day. I keep turning the words over and over in my hear. In Luke 5:12-13, it says, "While Jesus was in one of the towns, a man came along who was covered with leprosy. When he saw Jesus, he fell with his face to the ground and begged him, 'Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.' Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. 'I am willing,' he said. 'Be clean!' And immediately the leprosy left him."

The first thing that impressed me was that a man with leprosy was bold enough to approach Jesus and ask for his help. People with leprosy were ostracized from their communities. They lived either alone or with other people with the same condition until the died a painful death. There was no cure. But this man, who had been cast away from his peers because of his medical condition, was brave enough to seek out Jesus and asked him to heal him.

What impressed me far more was Jesus response: "I am willing." I am willing.

That phrase has played over and over in my head today. I am willing. And I know that He is willing to help me with my needs, too. The knowing isn't the issue for me. It is the releasing of my needs to Him that is hard for me.

I can almost imagine Christ looking at me when I am in anguish over something, reaching out his hand, touching my shoulder and saying, "Michelle, I am willing to help you." I feel sure that if I saw Jesus in front of me I would let Him help me with anything and everything. We don't have that opportunity today. We have to trust in the unseen and believe that Jesus will help us.

There are so many things in my life to worry about right now. My family, my school, graduating, finding a job for next year, the kids I am working with at the schools where I am interning... and those are just the legitimate worries I have. There is a whole slate of pointless worries I struggle with.

However, the whole time I am worrying, there has been a soft voice whispering to me, "Michelle, I am willing to help you." I have held tight my grip to all that I need to let go.

So I guess the real question for me isn't, "Lord, are you willing to help me?" I know the answer to that question. The real question is, "Am I willing to let Jesus help me?"

Are you willing?

What A Year

2010-03-14T10:21:00.005-05:00

I have really been dreading today, my 35th birthday. The dread has been about a lot of things, including my gray hairs, me memory loss, my stage in life and other things, too.

I looked in the rear view mirror this week for a quick make-up check and saw four renegade white hairs growing in. They were sticking straight up. I fought the urge to pluck them and instead tried my best to make them lay flat.

My memory is slipping. I know my brain is on overload, but I am being uncharacteristically absent minded. I locked my keys in the car this week. Twice. I have locked my keys in my car maybe 5 times in my entire life, twice of which were this week.

I am in that awkward life stage of kids being little but being in school. And since I am finishing my degree I don't have a full-time job (although it feels like I do most days). So I feel sort of in between.

But the real reason I have been dreading this day is because it is the first anniversary of the beginning of a chain of events that has changed many, many parts of my life. As I was praying about it this morning, God reminded me that even though much of this last year has been painful, it is exactly where He wants me to be.

There is nothing coincidental about how different my life is today than it was a year ago. A year ago today, I served my church in a major leadership role, was active in Bible study, led a small group and had no intention of changing my path. I was comfortable. And as I know all too well, comfortable is not a place to be to grow closer to God.

So as a result, God shook up my world. A few months before my birthday last year, I felt like God was slowly pulling my out of things and asking me to unbusy myself. And to trust Him. I started slowing down, but still was very involved in my church. Through an unforeseeable circumstance, God pulled me away from that, too. I never would have walked away from that on my own, so He had to pull. And it really, really, really hurt.

I spent about the next four months in a crisis. Everything I knew about my life changed. My identity that I had affiliated myself with for long was gone. Bible study was over. School was out, and I didn't have a church home anymore. I felt lost and empty and far from God. I couldn't understand why God would allow all of my ground to fall away from underneath me.

One afternoon in July, as I was sitting right here at my computer, I had my head in my hands. I felt so confused and alone and even a little angry. That's when God let me in on something. He reminded me that if there was anyone to be angry at, it was Him. He had allowed the chain of events to unfold the way they did. I couldn't argue and I knew I needed to forgive.

He also reminded me of the call He had given me years before, that I had ignored for a long time. The call was to be a counselor. I had started a Master's degree program in 2002 to be a counselor, but life got in the way. I only took one class before a quit the program. The next 8 years have been filled with kids and jobs and church. Although God had been quietly been reminding me of His call on my life all along, I always had an excuse. I was too busy. My kids were too small. My church needed me somewhere else. It cost too much money.

Suddenly, all my excuses were gone. My kids were both going to be in school. I was no longer super busy. I had no full-time job. And not only did my church not need me (and I know the church never really needed me), I didn't even have a church.

I immediately got online and looked up the program I had started in 2002. I made some phone calls and realized that even though it was late July, it was possible for me to start the program in August.

From there, one door after another flew open. The same day I applied to graduate school, I got admitted. The same day I applied to the program, I was accepted. And my parents offered to pay for my schooling, something I could not have afforded to do on my own. On top of that, there were openings in two classes. I started class at the end of August. I was going to be a counselor.

God knew He would have to clear my plate entirely for me to follow the call He had on my life. Although I would never have chosen this year to go the way it did, I can clearly see the purpose behind why it happened. It is so clear to me now that this was the plan all along.

This year has been a blur. Every single door has opened for me in major ways. I got the internship of my dreams, when I was told that someone in my program could never get this internship. My internship has confirmed that school counseling is my calling and where I should be.

When I realized two weeks ago that I needed to graduate this July instead of December, every door has opened. Deadlines I missed were waved. My class from 2002 was revalidated. I got in to classes I had to have. And my family has been nothing but supportive. I am going to graduate with a Master's Degree in Human Relations in one year, and hopefully I will pass my alternate certification test in April and get hired somewhere as a school counselor next year.

A year ago, graduate school was not even on my radar. Today, I have four months until I graduate.

I have decided to choose to see today as a reminder of the way God can move in my life and open doors for me, even when I am reluctant to walk through. I know he will nudge me along when I need the help.

I can say with confidence now, that I wouldn't change the last year. Although we are still looking for a church and are still recovering from the hurt, God has shown me this year who my true friends are, who He is, and who He wants me to be. You can't really ask for more than that.

A Matter of Perspective

2010-03-06T08:25:00.003-06:00

I am traveling up and down a steep learning curve right now. I am learning how to be a school counselor. I am currently serving an internship three days a week at a Norman middle school and an elementary school by splitting my time between the two. I have some of the best counselors in Norman mentoring me and guiding me.

I have learned all sorts of interesting things during my internship, including: how to perform a successful lunch duty, the importance of updating bulletin boards, how to handle a lockdown when you are in the middle of teaching a lesson to kindergartners, that unattended food in the break room is fair game, that kids mostly don't care if your door is shut - they try to come in anyway, that while some things have changed since I was a kid the general feeling of angst you get in middle school is still the same, that test monitoring is a pretty basic job, that kids in every grade, in every school and in every classroom need a counselor once in a while, and that counseling students takes a lot of reading between the lines.

My biggest lessons that I have learned so far, however are really not so much about counseling as much as they are about myself. First, my suspicion that I would really love school counseling has been confirmed. I do love it. I love the kids, I love the things the counselors get to do and I love helping people. This has come as no surprise to me.

I have also learned that I really love and look forward to my internship. It feels like a gift that I get to open when I go to my internship each time. I really love it.

I have learned that even the really, really hard days - the ones where students reveal painful things and are learning painful lessons - even those days are rewarding.

I have learned that even the kids who pretend like they are too cool to have you hug them sometimes love it when you put your arm around their shoulder. Most times, they even lean in their head for a real hug.

And most importantly, what I have learned is some perspective on my own life. As crazy as my life feels right now while I am trying to squeeze in 15 hours of graduate hours and comps into the next four months while teaching two classes at OU, doing my internship three full days a week and being a wife and a mother, is that my life is really pretty easy.

Some of the kids I have come into contact with are facing challenges that have never even come across my radar. I talked to my 8-year-old son about this last night. I wanted him to realize that not everyone has a life like his. I wanted him to know while there are real frustrations about being 8 and being a student and playing sports, that these frustrations are so different than some kids' frustrations.

My boys have a house that is warm when it's cold and cool when it's hot. They always have food to eat and a bed to sleep in. When they think of drugs, they think about Tylenol and antibiotics, not weed and crack. Their weekends are filled with sports and friends and resting and games and birthday parties; Their weekends thankfully do not include violence, loneliness and hunger. Their clothes may not be the fanciest and trendiest, but they are clean and neat and they fit.

Our family has been so blessed with so many gifts, I feel overwhelmed and humbled. Our house is not huge or in the nicest neighborhood, but it is all that we could ever need. Our cars are not the newest or nicest, but they get us where we need to go. We are careful budgeters with little wiggle room, but there is always just enough to pay our bills.

It is clear to me now why God has called me to be a school counselor. First, He wants me to see my many blessings and be thankful. But most importantly, He wants me to shine a light for other kids who do not have as many advantages as I have been given. He wants me to love them and help them and learn from them.

I am thanking God this morning for the lessons He is teaching me as I am in school this semester, and look forward to all that I will learn when I hopefully get a job as a school counselor some day.

The Risen Life

2010-02-09T16:03:00.003-06:00

There is this new show on MTV called "The Buried Life". It's about these four early-twenty-something men who are touring the U.S. fulfilling 100 wishes they have on a list of things to do before they die. Some of those things include helping deliver a baby, asking out the woman of your dreams, give a toast at a strangers wedding and other risky but humorous things.

While they are on the road, they also look for a person in each town to help fulfill something on their list of things to do before they die. For one man, it was reuniting him with an adult son he hadn't seen since he was a baby. For one woman it was fly her to another state so she could visit her mother's grave. For one school it was to buy them computers.

I am fascinated by this show. The men are hysterical and uninhibited, which makes for good TV. But I think my real interest is in that they have set out to accomplish things on their "Bucket Lists."

This show has caused me to ponder my list of what I want to do before I die. Initially, I didn't think there was a lot on my list. I have led a very blessed life and been afforded many possibilities, many more than the average girl, it seems. I try not to live a life of regrets and follow my heart whenever possible and sometimes even when impractical.

I am currently in the middle of a wonderful school counseling internship in Norman. One of the joys is counseling students about accomplishing their dreams. I will say to them, "What would you do if you knew you couldn't fail?" It is clear that they had never thought about it that way before. This saying is on the wall at one of my best friend's house, and I always find myself pondering this question to myself when I see it.

So what would I do if I knew I could not fail? What are my dreams?

I want to share my list with you. I figure it will continue to grow as years go by, so this is just a first stab, really. In no particular order:

* I want to effectively share God's love for them with everyone I could, especially with some of the people closest to me.
* With my husband, I want to take my children skiing.
* I want to begin a speaking ministry and talk about my life, my faith and my experiences with others.
* I want to write my autobiography.
* I want to tell each person how she or he has changed my life in some way and thank them for it, the good and the bad.
* I want to write Bible study books for small groups.
* I want to take my family to Disney World and the beach on one long spring vacation.
* I want to be able to afford to let my husband quit his day job and work full time doing what he loves the most.
* I want to resolve all conflicts that I have with family and friends, once and for all.
* I want to be able to afford my children to take part in any activity they wanted to that was good for them. (Traveling soccer, baseball lessons, piano or guitar lessons, singing lessons, etc.)
* I want to go to New York City, walk through Time Square, be on Good Morning America and see live Saturday Night Live.
* I want to go to California to see where Brad lived.
* I want to help Brad regain his pilot's license and eventually buy a small plane so we can travel around together when our kids grow up.
* I want to start something and then see it through that really makes a difference in the lives of people.
* I want to sing a serious song on stage with a mic. (I don't need to be up there alone ... I'd be happy to do the harmony.)
* I want to follow the OU football team to each of its games for a whole season.
* I want to teach my kids to be free to be silly and crazy and happy and for it to be a good thing.
* I want to be a wonderful aunt to lots of nieces and nephews.
* I want to be a great mom to adult sons and be friends with their wives.
* I want to see each of my son's baptized and follow the Lord.
* I want to spoil my grandchildren.
* I want to grow old with Brad and be the cute old couple who goes everywhere together.
* I want to go to Germany and spend a couple of weeks.
* I want to take in a child in need and provide for them.
* I want to love to cook for my family.
* I want to be as good of a friend to others as others have been to me.
* I want to conquer my phobia.
* I want to live anxiety free.
* I want to live debt free and financially stable enough that I can splurge occasionally and it doesn't throw off our whole budget.
* I want a house with a guest room so others will come and stay with me.
* I want to take care of my parents the way they have taken care of me.
* I want a master's degree.
* I want to be the best at whatever it is I decide I want to do with my life.
* I want to play indoor soccer again.
* I want to lose 20 pounds. And keep it off.
* I want to read the entire Bible.
* I want to have a regular, uninterrupted, unrushed, unsleepy quiet time with God every day.
* I want to drive to Illinois spontaneously to surprise my best friend.
* I want to have a therapy dog and take him or her places to help people.
* I want a really good family picture.
* I want to go to a beach somewhere for a week with just my husband.
* I want to take Will to a screen test.
* I want to watch Ryan play under the big lights on a field of some sort somewhere.
* Even more than have happiness, I want my kids to know the love of God and share it with others.

The Christmas Purse

2010-01-05T11:33:00.004-06:00

Christmas 2009 was unlike any other Christmas I have had. As usual, it was busy and I had a lot going on. As usual, it was important to me to buy gifts for the people I love to show them how much I love them.

What was unusual about this Christmas was our financial situation. Money has always been tight for our family. My husband works full time for the state and we rely almost entirely on his income. I teach one class at OU that brings home a few hundred dollars a month. But this year, we have had more expenses.

God has always come through for us just in the nick of time. Last Christmas, we were blessed to have some unexpected income from my grandparent's estate. The Christmas before, we charged Christmas. But this year, we were committed to following our plan of not going into debt.

We also found out in November that our furnace was going out. It is going to be a complicated replacement that involves getting a new hot water heater, too. We knew that this was going to cost us several thousand dollars that we don't have, which meant we would be going into debt. Money was tighter than ever.

The money we had saved for Christmas had been spent throughout the year and we weren't sure how Christmas was going to happen. So, even though I have been able to stay at home with my boys for the last 6 years, I knew I needed to get a part-time job.

I was extremely blessed to be hired at a local Christian store. The manager there worked around my schedule as much as possible, but I still ended up working between 20-30 hours per week. I started the weekend before Thanksgiving.

To make matters worse, the Monday before Thanksgiving, I went out for a run and came home with a broken foot. Luckily the awesome staff at my job allowed me to sit on a stool when I wasn't assisting a customer.

Besides my part-time job, keeping up with my family during a very busy time of year, finishing my semester in graduate school, and finishing the class I was teaching, my friends and I also were raising money for a local non profit agency through an online bake sale. I was responsible for a lot of that project, which kept me busy every waking moment.

The week before Christmas, I had an intense work schedule, our fund raiser was at its peak, my kids were missing me, my foot was sore and I was tired. I felt spread too thin. I felt like I had so much that I was doing that I wasn't doing any of it well. After a frustrating day at work, I was driving home in tears telling God that I couldn't possibly be serving Him well or even at all feeling this way. I was discouraged and unsure how I was going to keep up the pace. I was ready to walk away from all of my responsibilities. And as I told God all of this, He was silent. I felt frustrated, alone and far from God.

The next day at work was our busiest day yet. I didn't have many opportunities to rest my foot. But fortunately, God sent in several friends that encouraged me throughout the day. One friend that I had made in Bible study was checking out in my line and asked me why I was working. I told her that I needed to make extra money for Christmas so my family could have a nice Christmas. She knew that I had given up the Bible study that I had gone to for years to take this job.

As she was leaving, I admired her purse. I am a shoe and purse kind of girl, so I frequently admired my customers accessories. She thanked me but said it was kind of heavy, especially when she filled it up.

She left and I continued serving my customers. There was a line all day. I was surprised about an hour later when she walked back into the store. I thought she must have forgotten something she came in for the first time. I still had a line of customers I was helping so I didn't get to say hi to her.

As I was busy with my customers, I noticed her walking around the counter and setting down her purse at my feet. My first thought was that she wanted me to hold the heavy purse while she shopped, so I didn't say anything. But then I watched as she started to leave the store.

I shouted after her, "Wait! What are you doing?" And she looked back over her shoulder and waved as she scurried out the door and said, "God told me to!"

I was so moved. This friend didn't know my situation. She didn't even see my broken foot. She didn't know about my schedule or my stress and she certainly didn't know about the frustration and loneliness I had been feeling. But she listened to God when he told her to give me her purse. Her beautiful brown Italian leather and elaborately stitched purse. I couldn't have chosen a purse in a store that I loved more that this purse.

I fought back tears as I continued to wait on my customers. They must have thought I was a head case! But I didn't care. God had blessed me through this sweet, sweet friend who was obedient to His call.

Finally, my line died down after about 15 minutes, and I had the chance to look at the purse. I picked it up and imagined how she must have dumped the contents out in her car so she could bring it back for me.

And then I opened it up and saw a sealed white envelope sitting inside with the words, "Because He said so!" written in blue ink. My heart skipped a beat as I gently opened the seal to see a $100 bill inside.

The tears really started then. I was too overwhelmed to do much of anything. I waited on my customers through tears and big gulps so I could hold back the big cry of thankfulness that was about to explode from my heart.

Finally I was finished for the day and cried all the way home. This time the tears were tears of joy. God had answered my questions to Him with a purse and a $100 bill. He was reminding me that He was with me, taking care of me, providing for me in unthinkable ways and even blessing me for my obedience.

As I shared this story with my eight-year-old son, I was able to tell Him how God is ALWAYS with us. He is always watching out for us and providing for all of our needs, even when we feel frustrated and alone. He always hears our prayers and he uses all kinds of people to remind us that He is in control.

That purse and that gift mean so much more to me than just a purse or just some money. They are tangible evidence that my God loves me and is with me and is providing for me in every way. I am so grateful to my friend for her thoughtfulness and I know she, too, will be blessed for her obedience.

My Christmas purse was the best Christmas present I have ever been given.

All Things Interesting (to me at least)

2009-12-03T09:15:00.006-06:00

This has been a challenging month or so in my little bubble. Not challenging bad. Actually challenging in a way that is making me lean on God more, so it is good! But challenging none the less.

Academically, I have had lots of papers/presentations to do. I have one little one and one big one left, but I think it will be OK. (I did panic about one of them today, but I feel better after a little more planning.)

Professionally, my students have had lots of things for me to grade. But, everything is graded now! Woohoo! Also, I have started a part-time seasonal job at Mardel. It's a GREAT place to work; nice environment, super nice co-workers and managers, and products I really like. The trick for me has been just getting used to it. I haven't worked a "real job" in about 6 years. (This doesn't include my many teaching gigs.) I have never worked retail. So by the end of each day, my brain is super mushy. And my feet hurt, at least at first. But I enjoy what I am doing, so it is all good.

Philanthropically, my friends and I are in the middle of a fund raiser for United Way of Norman. You probably have seen our Confections for a Cause. It is an awesome fund raiser, but I am feeling the pressure. I know it will end well, it is just getting there that is scary. I desperately want to raise $2,000 and we are about $350 away from that goal.

Personally, the biggest factor in my life right now is that I broke my foot. I went on a tiny little run more than a week ago, and it resulted in a stress fracture in my left foot. I am embarrassed to say the least. Especially since I went running to lose weight, since I have gained the freshman 15 this semester. But apparently the 15 added too much stress to my foot. Wow. Nice. But, it is what it is. The great news is, my employers at Mardel have generously granted me the use of a stool to sit on as I run the cash register. I think this is a big deal for them. No one sits ever at Mardel. So I am very grateful.

I don't think there is any coincidence in the timing of my injury. I had worked exactly once at Mardel and two days later broke my foot. Seriously, the timing couldn't have been worse! But God has used it to show me the best in other people. The people at Mardel have shown me enormous grace, and I have gotten to know them better. My husband has been so helpful around the house, even going grocery shopping for me (his BY FAR LEAST favorite chore). My students have made the trek across a cold campus to get things for me out of my box.

I have been a little panicky, especially this morning. I was feeling overwhelmed and felt like something had to give. Would it be canceling class? No way. Would it be calling in sick? My sweet husband talked me off that ledge. Would it be missing class tonight? Too close to the end of the semester. Would it be my LONG-planned girl's trip to Dallas? Not a chance.

So I am leaning on my God and am letting Him carry the weight right now, how ever heavy it may be. He keeps reminding me that He is in control of every part of my life. He also has put this scripture in my mind over and over during the last several days:

Colossians 3:23-24, "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving."

May I commit to this attitude and work for the Lord in all I do.

It's Not About Us

2009-11-24T09:32:00.004-06:00

You probably have read recently about the fund raiser my friends and I are doing to raise money for the United Way of Norman. It is called, "Confections for a Cause." We are baking treats and selling them. Every penny of what we collect will go straight to the United Way of Norman.

We have been sending e-mails and Facebook mails, we have been putting it as our status updates and we have even created a Facebook page. When I looked today, we actually have 69 fans!

Our Web site, created by the awesome Jackie Lindley, has reached far beyond the scope of people that we know in our community. We are getting orders from people in the metro area from all sorts of places and walks of life. They are going to www.confectionsforacause.com and ordering.

My first goal was to raise $500, which we did in about 36 hours. So we bumped our goal to $1,000, which we reached yesterday. We are increasing our goal now to $1,500, and I hope we have to increase it again!

We had one business (Creative Video Works) like our idea so much that they bought one of everything AND sent us a $50 donation to help cover our supplies. We are getting extremely positive feedback everywhere we turn, whether we know a person or not. People love this idea, a grass-roots effort to do something for our community.

The Norman Transcript wrote a front-page story about our fund raiser and today has followed with an editorial encouraging people to support the United Way through Confections for a Cause.

All in all, our little fund raiser is receiving lots of attention, and I am glad because more people will be able to give to the United Way through what we are doing.

But I want to remind everyone, this fund raiser is not about us. It is not even about the fund raiser. It is about helping people who really need help. People who have lost their jobs, people who have no home, people who don't know where their next meal is coming from.

This fund raiser is about people who, maybe for the first time in their lives, are being forced to ask for help from their own community. I know that asking for help is hard. Our family has been blessed up to this point to not need the help. But just like almost every family in Norman, we are one accident, one layoff, one serious illness, one paycheck away from needing help.

I will never forget the look on most people's faces when the Red Cross came to help them usually on the worst day of their lives. They usually had lost their home and everything in it to fire, flood or storm. Their thanks were always enough to keep me and the volunteers motivated to keep helping at all hours of the night, in all places rural or suburban.

So, my point in this post today is two-fold: to remind us all that this fund raiser is about the people who we are helping. And two, it is to act as a thank you to each of you who have given to the United Way, whether through our fund raiser or through another way. Thank you for helping. I know how tight money is for everyone right now. But your gift will make a difference in someone's life. And that someone might be someone you know or love. And someday, it might even be you.

It's not too late to give. It's not too late to help. It's not too late to change a life today.

"Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" Jesus replied: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' Matthew 22:36-39

Freedom to be Thankful

2009-11-11T08:35:00.002-06:00

I thought that in honor of Veteran's Day, I would list some of the freedoms I am thankful for. I would encourage you to add your own in the comment section. Here are just a few of the freedoms I am thankful for this Veteran's Day 2009.

The freedom to worship Christ my Lord without fear of persecution.

The freedom to have as many or as few children as I am able.

The freedom to write about things that are on my mind and the freedom of the press to report the truth.

The freedom to live in the town, city and state of my choosing, and the opportunity to buy a home of my choosing.

The freedom to choose whether to send my children to public or private schools, and the freedom in the public schools to receive a top-notch education without a political agenda being shoved down their throats.

The freedom to say the Pledge of Allegiance in that public school and the opportunity to include, "One Nation, Under God."

The freedom to choose what I want to do for a living and the opportunity to receive a higher education so I can follow my dreams.

The freedom to talk to my friends and family whenever I want because our technology is not limited by the government.

The freedom to have too many choices in just about every area of my life.

Please Don't Let Chivalry Be Dead

2009-11-10T10:49:00.006-06:00

So I was reading this column on the CNN Web site today titled, "Chivalrous Moves That Creep Us Out." Before reading the column, I wondered what they could be. Maybe pre-chewing someone else's gum? Calling 50 times a day? I couldn't imagine what they might be that would warrant an article.

I have to say that I am very disappointed about the eight so-called creepy items on the list. And I say this because, I am praying that chivalry is not dead. In fact, as a mother of two young boys, I have been doing my best to teach my children to practice chivalry and politeness all the time.

By teaching my sons how to open doors for people, let ladies go first, by serving others and helping clear the table, etc., I am hoping to ingrain in them a sense of chivalry so that they will become polite, responsible gentlemen who will treat women with respect.

On my first unofficial date with my husband back in the 90s, while I was bagging on his early 80s model Datsun B210, he was politely opening the door for me to step inside. He probably won me over in that very moment. He treated me with respect, even as I was disrespecting his ride. What a nice guy.

Part of the argument that this column writer suggested was that a woman should be empowered. I would never argue that matter. But there is a huge difference between removing a woman's power and respecting who she is.

So here is the list of chivalrous things that creep out this column writer and why I don't think they are creepy.

1. Ordering my meal for me. This has always struck me as bizarro, because chances are you don't know what I want. The only time this is cool is if I have no idea how to pronounce something and you do.

What is so wrong with a man ordering for a woman? I might take issue if he didn't ask what I wanted first, but I think he is saving us a step by asking us (since most people have the conversation of, "So, what are you going to order?" before actually ordering). Also, if the man is paying, then it is a way of proving his willingness to buy your dinner. My husband has done this for me before, but we usually don't do this now. However, I almost always order for our family when we are at a drive in since it is just more simple that way. I don't think my husband finds it offensive at all. In fact, I think he would say he appreciates not having to do it.

2. Letting me win at a game of Scrabble/pool/bowling when you are clearly better. No fun! Please give it your best shot. I want the satisfaction of really beating you.

As a highly competitive person, I will say this is the only one that I might agree with. But, letting a woman win isn't what I would consider creepy. I think something more chivalrous might be is if you see that the woman is terrible at whatever it is you are doing, suggest you might do something else. Or show her how to do it, if she asks.

3. Using a code term for going to the bathroom. Especially retro words like "tinkle." You can just say, "I'll be back in a minute." I'll get it.

Does this have anything to do with chivalry? And I do think it is just polite to excuse yourself from a date or dinner or even a conversation if nature calls. Who does this? I have never heard a guy say he is going "tinkle" unless he might be 3 years old.

4. Pulling out my chair. Someone told me this tradition started when women wore loads of crinolines and, thus, scooting in your chair was difficult. That's no longer the case. It just makes me nervous that you won't push it in at the right moment and I'll land on the ground with a thud.

This one I have a beef with. There is nothing creepy about pulling out a chair for a woman. It is respectful. It also allows the woman to be seated first. It is a sign that a man is respecting and helping the woman however he can. Of course a woman can do this herself! No one would argue that. But the respectful thing to do is at least offer to help her be seated. My husband will still do this occasionally, especially if we are on a date, and I appreciate it every time.

5. Carrying my purse. Yeah, it's heavy, but I'm pretty used to it at this point. You carrying it just looks funny. I have enough of a hard time with murses.

Well, while I wouldn't consider a man carrying my purse creepy, I would consider it odd that a woman would ask a man to do this. Unless there is a very good reason (and I can't think of one at the moment) men should have to do this. However, it is nice for a man to carry other things for a woman. Grocery bags, heavy items, books, lawn chairs, ice chests, etc. all would fit into this category. And although I know we can do it ourselves, why would you turn down this help?

6. Asking my dad for my hand in marriage. So outdated. Pops just shouldn't be involved in our relationship. No one should know you want to marry them before they do.

This is the one I have the hardest time with. Why shouldn't your dad be involved in this relationship? While I know it is the right thing to do to leave your parents and cleave to your husband, I think it is a great show of respect for a woman's parents and family when a man asks permission to marry her. Anymore, when someone gets married, they are marrying much more than a person, but an entire family. If the relationship is healthy and appropriate, I would think that a father would love to have the opportunity to provide his blessing on a marriage of his daughter. I know there are obvious exceptions to this, including remarriage, the age of the people marrying and even strained relationships. But if a relationship with the soon-to-be in-laws is a good one, why not show this respect? I love the fact that my husband asked permission from my father. And he did it without me knowing it so the proposal would be a surprise. It made it all the more special to know that he cared enough to talk to my parents beforehand.

7. If you're paying for dinner, not letting me put in for tip. Or get a round of drinks after. If I offer, it's because I want to. I swear.

Well, back in my day, no one offered to pay the tip or the round of drinks. But I can't be opposed to the offer. Politely declining is one thing but being offended by a woman's offer is inappropriate. But is this creepy? I don't think so ...

8. Helping me put me coat on. This is sweet, but it's always awkward because my hand misses the sleeve or gets stuck somewhere in there. It's easier to just do it on my own.

Why in the world is this creepy? I love to have people help me put on a coat. It does not show a sign of inferiority. I know I can put on my coat. But offering to help someone out in an awkward situation should not be considered creepy. It is respectful and helpful, just as it would be if I offered to help a man out with his coat, especially if he was stuck. Let's face it, depending on how many layers a person is wearing, putting on a coat can be as tough as raking the leaves on a windy day.

So there are my thoughts. I am excited to read yours. Please post comments on this one ...

It's Tough Being A Kid

2009-10-27T09:31:00.002-05:00

My 5-year-old son, Will, is quite a character. This kid has made a lot of memorable stories for us to embarrass him with someday. (Like when he spray painted yellow many parts of our backyard.)

Yesterday, though, when I was driving him to school, he said something sort of profound, especially for a five year old. To my knowledge, what he said came out of the blue. He had been quiet a couple of minutes, then came up with this:

Will: (heavy sigh) You know, Mom, it's tough being a kid.

Me: (Smiling were he couldn't see me) Oh really Will? Why is that?

Will: Cause kids make millions of mistakes.

Me: That is true, Will. They do. But it's ok.

Will: I know.

So I giggled and called a couple of people to report "the cute thing my kid just said." But then I really started thinking about it. Will was on to something here.

Kids really do make millions of mistakes. And for each one (or at least most of them) there is an adult somewhere correcting them. Or they are learning the lesson the hard way. (Like this summer when Will drank out of a cup that had been sitting outside a few days. Gross results ensued.)

The mistakes start from birth with sleep schedules. Babies often make the mistake of sleeping during the day and keeping mom and dad up all night. Until someone teaches them when they are supposed to sleep. As they grow, they learn what things they can put in their mouths and what things they shouldn't. (Like quarters. Those shouldn't go in your mouth because you can swallow them, which makes for an ER visit, more grossness, before a treasure is found a week later. Ask Will about this, too.)

They learn what words are ok to say, and what words they should say when they want something. They learn it's not ok to hit or say mean things. There is a pretty huge learning curve.

So my deep thought of the morning is this: at what point does the correction pretty much stop? When is it that adults stop correcting you? Is it different for everyone? And I know some adults still find themselves being corrected by a boss or by parents or by a spouse, etc. But for all intents and purposes, the correction has stopped and we are left to sort of figure it all out by ourselves.

And the result? Badly behaved adults. Not across the board, of course, but you know who I am talking about. The adult who says hateful things about you behind your back and then is passive aggressive to your face. The adult who yells at his/her kid at a sporting event because their kid drops a pass or doesn't make a play. The adult who doesn't recognize that the planet doesn't revolve around him/her (especially in the pick-up line at my son's elementary school). The adult who uses the family bathroom when there is no apparent reason to do so (for you Jen).

Why is it that no one is willing to correct adults? My theory is because it starts a fight. I think it is because now that we are adults, we assume we know it all. Clearly we don't. Allow yourself to be corrected. Because even as "adults" we still make "millions of mistakes."

Random Thoughts

2009-10-04T10:12:00.005-05:00

I feel like writing this morning but I am not especially inspired by any one topic. So here are my random thoughts in no particular order.

* I got to sleep WAY in this morning. and I when I say that I mean that it is about 10:15 a.m. now and I have been up for 20 minutes. On the cool rainy Sunday morning (when I know I should be going to church) there was nothing more relaxing than lying there and listening to the rain.

* Speaking of rain, my son is supposed to play his flag football game today. I checked the Optimist Web site and they are saying the games are on. Hmmm. Maybe the sleeping in will be counter balanced by getting soaking wet at his game. I wouldn't miss it, though!

* When I got up a few minutes ago, I discovered my boys sitting side by side on the couch playing at WWII flying game on the Wii. They are saying things like, "Alert, alert! Incoming! Enemy approaching!" They are enthralled in this air combat game and working together as a team. I am strangely proud.

* I have little to say about last night's football game other than this: I think we are cursed. Three of our best players fall one by one. It is like a serial killer mystery or something. So the big question in my mind is, who is knocking off our players? The only logical thought is Texas, who really doesn't want to put an asterisk by their Big 12 championship painted in their locker room this year. I am NOT saying we are destined to lose to Texas. We can beat them any time we play them and vice versa. I am saying that they have motive. I think we should call the FBI.

* I have obviously been watching too many episodes of my new favorite late night show "Criminal Minds" as seen in the item posted above.

* I was absolutely giddy when watching the return of "Medium" to primetime television. I think this may be the first time in the last decade I have watched something on CBS. The girl who plays the oldest daughter is just really talented.

* Some of my closest friends went camping this weekend in the Wichitas. They invited me but I don't camp. I was sad they were going t0 be having fun without me until I remembered I don't think there is anything fun about camping. No temperature control, no indoor plumbing, no beds, bugs, wild animals, bad sleep, lack of refrigeration.... yeah, not my thing at all. I love them though. And I love that my boys will be able to decide for themselves if they love camping (thanks Jason and Leslie!).

* Last night I was dreaming about my Best Dog Ever Casey, who will be 11 in February. I was dreaming that he was sick and was needing to be put down. I was absolutely hysterical in my dream and actually woke up in the middle of the night panicked and crying. I love this dog so much. I can't imagine life without him. Live long and prosper, Casey!

* My academic goal today is to make a list of deadlines for the rest of the semester and to get ahead. The first half feels over at this point and now I can focus on my other papers and presentations. I am really loving school. Go figure.

* My final thought for the day is on swine flu. There are 20 kids in Will's pre-k class and six of them have missed several days because they were so sick with presumably the swine flu. I know several people who have it or who had it. I am praying for health protection and washing my hands until they are nubby. Die swine flu, die!!!!!!!!

I hope you have a great Sunday!

I've Got Problems ... or At Least an Opinion

2009-09-29T12:01:00.003-05:00

Most people who know me know that I tend to get on my soap box once in a while. Well, maybe more than once in a while. Here are a few things that have previously inspired me to get all soap boxy:

* James Garner - who didn't ever graduate from high school because he was a trouble-maker while in school - getting a whole freaking corridor named after him in Norman. I have nothing against the guy personally, but I would like to see things like a corridor named after people who have contributed to our community. Maybe people who have done something besides be an excellent actor (which he is, especially after seeing him in The Notebook ... cried my eyes out...).

* That people said the Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin's death via fish was a "freak accident." Anyone who routinely and purposefully puts themselves in harms way that often has got it coming. I mean seriously. Even if it were unusual, how unusual was it really for someone who wrestled crocodiles. (I also find it fitting that the ship in Whale Wars is called the Steve Irwin... you really want to name your ship after someone who died in the water? Isn't that kind like naming your boat the Titanic?)

* That people are so super rude when dropping off and picking up their kids at schools and don't follow the simple rules.

* Cheaters. Can't stand cheaters of any kind.

* Passive aggressiveness. In general.

There are other things that really irk me. However, I normally find myself to be amicable. Are you laughing at me yet?

I have always found myself to be someone who really hates confrontation. But lately, I have found myself the lone voice in a crazy world. Well maybe not the lone voice, but the minority for sure. And what IS crazy is that I have been embracing the confrontations head on.

In this really great weekend class I had a couple of weeks ago called "Psychosocial Aspects of Disability" we talked about lots of hot-button topics, such as assisted suicide, human genome project, abortion, Eugenics, etc. What happened in that class surprised me - sort of. I have been warned by some fellow Christ followers that my opinions on such topics would be in the minority. But I guess it surprised me how in the minority I was, and that I still spoke my beliefs.

I am sure that everyone in the class thought I was close minded for thinking that life begins at conception, and that we, as helping professionals, have a responsibility to help sustain life instead of assisting in its demise (generally speaking of course). But when I was talking, I didn't care. I know they thought I was irrational and weak minded, but the thing was is that I knew better. I have the Truth of God's Word on my side.

Ten years ago, even though I was a new Christian, I would have no more voiced my different opinion on topics like that than I would have worn orange on an OU game day. But something really cool has happened to me since then. I have grown more confident, not in myself, but in my identity in Christ. It is such a freeing feeling to know that all I have to cling to is the truth and no matter what anyone says or does, the Word of God is true.

I am beginning a study on the Gospel of Jesus Christ as written in John. This Gospel has been referred to as the spirit filled Gospel. And what that says to me is that it is truth. I am who Christ made me to be. I can stand firm in that knowledge. And I can speak my mind, even if that means people will disagree with it.

An Outside-of-Your-Body Experience

2009-09-21T18:24:00.004-05:00

This blog won't be as kooky as it sounds. Go with me here ...

I have a friend who is pregnant and will have her first born baby in March. I was asking her to pray for me about some parenting issues, and she mentioned that the parenting thing was going to be difficult and keep her on her knees in prayer.

That is oh so true, isn't it moms and dads?

From the time your baby first makes his presence known in your womb, the worries begin. And for some of us, the worries begin before that baby ever gets there. But when you find out for sure you are pregnant, oh, mercy. Am I eating right? Was that thing I did to hard on the baby? Should I blast classical music into my womb? And a million more worries.

And then, when that baby gets here, you realize that in your whole life, you have never worried like this before. I mean, it's the first time that you ARE IT. YOU are responsible for that baby. There is no one to fall back on, except maybe the spouse. You are lucky to have friend and family support, but you are the mom or the dad, and you will always be.

You hear every sniff, cough, whimper, nestle, nudge and cry those first nights. It is enough to drive a sane well-rested person crazy. But when you are already so worried AND sleep deprived, well, May the Force Be With You. Or in my case, may My Lord Be With Me.

And you think you couldn't worry more, and then you drop off your child with someone other than you for the first time. And then you leave! How will your baby survive without you? The mystery continues, but babies do!

Here I am with a 5 year old and a 7 year old, and the worries haven't stopped, they are just new. You start to see your kiddos worry or be too hard on themselves, or you see them starting to slide down the wrong path or hang out with the wrong crowd. And now, you are sending them to school 5 days a week without you. And you have no control over their environment. It is terrifying.

The only thing that brings me comfort at this point is God. I know He is in control of my little bubble. But more than that, He is in control of my boys' little bubbles. The best I can do is make good decisions for them when I can, teach them to make good decisions for themselves, teach them about God's control and His love for them, and the pray. They have to grow up ... don't they?

I have a friend who is probably right now seeing her 19-year-old son for the first time in months. He went to Army boot camp in Georgia. When I talked to her last night, she was absolutely giddy knowing she would see him so soon. She has been absolutely tormented with not hearing from him and worrying about him.

So what this tells me is the worries don't stop, they just change. And I am ok with that. When I signed up to be a parent, a dear friend told me the best way she could describe parenthood was like wearing your heart on the outside of your body.

She was right.

Thinking of Others

2009-09-09T12:46:00.002-05:00

I need to get up on my soap box on this one, folks. I have about had it with the way people have become completely self focused. I am done with people thinking the "system" doesn't apply to them. I am at my wits end watching everyone not follow the clear rules stated because they think they can bend the rules for themselves.

It seems as if American society has become enveloped in ourselves. And I want to say right here, I am just as guilty at this as the next person, which is probably the reason it irritates me so much.

My breaking point lately on this subject has been, of all places, in my son's school drop-off and pick-up lines. My youngest son, Will, is in pre-kindergarten this year. He goes to school from 7:55 a.m. (when school starts for everyone) and stays what is classified as a half day, so I pick him up at 10:25 a.m.

This isn't my first pre-k line experience. My older son was in the afternoon pre-k, too, so I learned how the system works a few years ago. The pre-k program was still sure to send home information with each parent about the drop-off and pick-up procedures. In fact, the school has informed EVERY family what the pick-up and drop-off procedures are. They are:

- only pre-k and kindergarten students may be picked up or dropped off in the circle in the front of the school. All others are pick up and drop off at the gym entrance. This is so the buses can pick up students in the front circle.

- when you are picking up and dropping off your students, stay in your car. This makes for a much faster transition.

There are also some unspoken rules that are common courtesy, such as take turns, no cutting, wait in line in the order you are in.

So when ALL of these rules are broken, it makes me frustrated. It is a symptom of where we are in society.

The front circle is two car widths, which provides plenty of space of pick ups and drop offs on the right side and through traffic on the left side. Instead, what is happening is against the protocol AND dangerous. Parents are stopping in the through lane while their children walk in between cars. And some of those cars are backing up, or pulling forward. I saw one parent stop in the through lane and then get out of his car to go in the building. Luckily, a teacher saw it to and sent him back to his car.

There are kids of all ages being dropped off in the pre-k and kindergarten line. I know there are some special circumstances with some of those kiddos, whether they have a disability or special permission or something. But others are just lazy.

I waited this morning 5 minutes behind a bus to drop off Will in the appropriate place. Cars pulled around me and cut off the bus. The bus tried for more than two minutes - with its blinker on - to get back into the through traffic line, but kept getting cut off by eager parents.

When I pick up kiddos, many, if not most of the parents get out of their cars to either buckle their own child in or to wait for their kids as they get out of class. I keep hoping as the year progresses this will stop. The pick-up procedures each parent got state to stay in your cars to help the line move quickly. The teachers will walk the children to the car and buckle them in. A 2-minute process takes at least 10 each day because of this right here. I do not have an issue with parents getting out of their cars to greet their kids, but if you do, don't park in the line! Park somewhere else! I had to ask two drivers to move cars parked in the through line one day so I could get my boys to the dentist on time. One of the parents wasn't even a pre-k parent but somewhere inside the building.

This is the problem: each of those people think to themselves, I'm sure, "Well, it's not THAT big of deal. I mean, I am in a hurry, this will just take a minute, and it's going to be fine." If it were just one person with that attitude, it WOULD be fine! But when everyone thinks they can be the exception to the rule, what we end up with is exactly what we have: a society filled with people who are only thinking of their own needs. Their is proof of this everywhere we look:

* Parents trying to excuse their children from homework because of athletic practices or games, or other pre-planned events.

* Parents switching around their children's teachers every year because they didn't get who they wanted.

* People who refuse to use their blinkers because they don't care if anyone knows they are turning left or not. They know, so what else matters?

* Children and adults who are taught that it is OK to cheat when they are not held fully responsible for their actions by claiming ignorance. It is the fault of the people who don't hold these cheaters accountable because it makes their own lives more difficult.

* People who park where they aren't supposed to, drive where they aren't supposed to, use their cell phones when they aren't supposed to, turn in things late, etc. Everyone has an excuse.

* People who embrace the mentality of fear and prevent their children or other important people in their lives whose opinions differ from their own. How will a child ever learn what they believe if all they hear has been filtered, sheltered, guided and watered down. Especially parents have a responsibility to teach their children right and wrong. And to learn wrong, you have to see it sometimes to really understand what it is.

* Coaches who teach their players to cheat, foul, cut corners or trash talk. This does absolutely nothing productive for anyone. These are the same people who don't appropriately discipline the discipline problems on their teams and it results in problems for everyone.

And my list could go on and on. I know what I have addressed might make you angry. And I think that is ok. We all are entitled to our opinions. But I challenge you, as I have challenged myself, to think about this topic personally. Where have you become self focused? For me, one of the ways is feeding my family dinner. I have gotten in the habit of only fixing what I like or not fixing anything at all if I am not in the mood.

I truly believe that if we all thought of others more, even just a little bit more, this world would be such a better place. There would be fewer people trying to beat the system and instead trying to help the system.

How can thinking of someone else today make a difference in your life and their life? How can thinking of someone else speak to your own family? How can thinking of someone else change the world?

The Last Day of Summer

2009-08-19T08:11:00.003-05:00

I am cranky today.

It might be because I have no soda, bread, milk or eggs in my house. It might be because I just dropped the hair dryer on my bare foot. It might be because there was some weeping and gnashing of teeth as we got ready this morning. It might be because my kids cried and whined when had them clean up in the living room, bedroom and play room. It might be because I haven't had caffeine yet.

But it's not. I am cranky because today is the last day of summer.

Where did it go? I mean, seriously. I feel like school was out just last week and I was looking forward to all the fun things I was going to do with my kids.

Summer to me means non-stop time with my boys. And while this can be stressful and I do need a break, really this is the best. There were moments when I was ready for school to start. But, truth be told, I am not ready.

I am missing them already.

Ryan will be in second grade this year. He got a great teacher and is going to have a great year. He will turn 8 in October and I cannot believe it! He is so tall and so smart and so hysterical. He is a good balance for me. He says things to me like, when I was trying to memorize my license plate number, "You know mom, there's and easier way to do this. You could just write it down." I knew he was right, but it's not my style. I sure am a lucky mom to have him help me.

Will just turned 5 and is going into pre-k. We know and already love his teacher. He already walks into the school like he owns it. He couldn't be more excited to start school like a big boy. And he is a big boy. And he is my baby, always will be. How did this happen? How did my baby get big enough to go to school? Will keeps me laughing hysterically all the time. And even though he is in school half days, life will change for him. He will be making new friends, learning new things and generally growing up.

Man, am I going to miss the summer. I will miss the way I would wake up to little boys snuggling up against me and lying there for a while just to enjoy it. I will miss going to Frontier City or the zoo or the pool just because we can. I will miss swimming almost every day and watching the boys grow gills.

I am going to miss late nights, late mornings, park lunches, playing outside from dawn til dusk. I am going to miss not having to run here and there, to games and practices and lessons.

Mostly I am going to miss time with my kids. It seems like when Ryan gets home from school he has homework and then of course he wants to play outside. Then there is dinner and sometimes a sports practice and sometimes more homework or reading or something to swallow up our time.

I am going to miss not knowing what their days were like from first-hand experience. And you know they aren't going to tell me. "They forgot" or "nothing happened" or are too interested in other things to repeat it all to me.

I am leaving them at this big school where kids out number the adults at least 20-1 and will be praying that everything goes ok.

I am cranky because summer ends today. And even though we are all excited about starting another year, I am mourning the loss of the summer of 09.

Dedicated to Alison

2009-06-30T22:37:00.004-05:00

I am a very lucky girl. I have several friends who live in my "best" category. The neat thing for me is that they are all "best" in different ways.

One of those best friends in my sweet, smart, deep, inspiring, loving, amazing friend Alison.

Last year I did something unforgiveable in my opinion. I forgot her birthday. And I don't mean I forgot and then remembered it the next day. I remembered it like three months later. It was a crazy time for me, but still it is no excuse to forget something as important as the day my friend was born and get the chance to celebrate her.

So this blog is dedicated to Alison for being such a wonderful friend to me. Happy Birthday Best Friend!

Alison and I met through church. In fact, she and her husband led a small group that my husband attended. We started hanging out and soon started spending lots of time with her and Herschel. This was eons before any of us had kids, so we spent lots of weekend nights playing cards and games and eating yummy food together.

Eventually, I joined Alison's Bible study group that she was leading through our church. This was even a better way to really get to know her. I learned that she, too, was an only child. I learned that she had grown up in Portales, NM, and gone to college in Minnesota at a private school. I learned that she and Herschel, who were just friends in high school, started dating the summer before they left for college and maintained an impossible long-distant relationship when Herschel moved to Norman to go to OU.

I learned that she couldn't stand it anymore and moved to Norman to take her last few hours at OU so she could be with Herschel in the same time as a couple. After years of dating, I learned they finally got married and settled here in Norman. I am so grateful! I would not have met them otherwise!

Mostly I learned about Alison's impeccable character. If Alison says something is true, you can count on it 100% every time. Alison has never said or done anything to hurt me in all the years I have known her. I wish I could say that I haven't hurt her, but she has forgiven my thoughtlessness. Even though I am forgiven, I wish I could take it back.

Alison has always been there for me, not just as a shoulder to cry on, but as someone to challenge me to do better when I needed to do better. And if she gives me things to think about, I always do. She challenges me in love and with enormous respect which I couldn't possibly deserve.

As my small group leader, Alison pulled me alongside her and showed me how to lead others in Christ. She encouraged me and eventually became my shepherd and coach as I co-led with her and then led many, many of my own groups. Any time I encounter something new, have a question, run into a problem, or even want to share my successes, Alison is the one I call. I respect her knowledge, her heart and her experience more than anyone I know.

Alison and our other best friend Jen invited me to Bible Study Fellowship. Well, actually they invited me a lot: beginning 2 years before I actually went. But when I did finally go, I was able to share my wonderful moments of learning and growth with Jen and Alison. BSF has revolutionized my spiritual life and hopefully made me a better Christ follower, wife, mother and friend. I’m glad she kept asking…

One of my favorite things about Alison is the way she loves not only her own children, but my children also. When Ryan was 5 weeks old and I had to go back to work, I trusted Alison to keep him five days a week. And despite the fact that her son Andrew was only 7 months old at the time, she loved both babies, held both babies, fed both babies (and oh screamed bloody murder when he was hungry) and took care of both babies just like a mom should.

When Will was born, she frequently traded me out for babysitting, too, because her second child, Beth, was just 6 weeks older than Will. Here we were raising our kids and sharing our most important life moments together. When Ryan was 3 and climbed the fence, fell and cut open his arm and needed stitches, she calmly handled it and called me. If I would have been there I would have called 911!

She has entrusted the care of all of her children to me on short trips, long trips and extended trips. She has returned the favor for me. And I trust her implicitly to love, care for and even discipline my children when they need it.

There are so many more things I want to say about Alison. She is a wonderful travel buddy. She is the one of the very best moms I know – her kids are amazing. She is a wealth of information. She has spurred my growing love of reading. She has amazing financial discipline and integrity. She is loving, joyful, peaceful, patient, kind, good, faithful, gentle and self controlled. She loves God with all her heart and she walks with Him. She leads by example.

I love my dear friend and am grateful to God for her presence in my life. She is a calm breeze in my turbulent waters. She inspires me to learn more about God. She sets the example for me to be better at what I do. And she loves me despite all my flaws.

Happy Birthday Best Friend!

Cleaning the Backyard

2009-06-24T10:01:00.003-05:00

So I have this thought that I have been mulling over in my head for a few years now. Let me pose the question to you: Which is more important to keep clean and manicured, your front yard or your backyard?

Seems like a cheesy question. And I know there are debates on both sides, but God has made me think about it deeper and in a more meaningful way.

We have lived in our house nearly 3 years now. We have a big backyard with a fort and lots of room for the kids to play. Our front yard is also quite large. We live on a corner that backs up to a busy roadway, so we are also responsible for a long side yard and the grass behind our house between the fence and the street. We do a lot of mowing, edging, weed eating and grooming of our lawn.

So here is the dilemma ... if you have time to only mow and manicure the front or the back, which do you mow? Which does it matter more looks nice, the front or the back? Which comes first?

Argument for the front: People are driving by seeing our front yard all the time everyday. It is important to keep it looking nice so our neighbors are happy, so people don't think we are junky and that we take care of our home.

Argument for the back: Although no one driving by will see the back, we spend most of our time back there. The kids play in the back every day and the grass needs to be cut, the dog poop needs to be picked up, the trash needs to be thrown away so they can have nice clean area to play in.

It's a little bit like the life I am living. I am 34 years old and went out without make up for the first time in my adult life on my birthday this year. That is a little sad. I have been worrying about my appearance. Is my hair cute? Is my make up on? Are my clothes nice? Am I presentable to people I might run into or even to strangers? When I go to the store, what classification will I be given by strangers based on my appearance?

To this end, I am obsessed with my hairstyle. A major treat for myself is a pedicure. I try to wear nice clothes. I get my eyebrows waxed, although not often enough. I worry about my weight. I care about fashion and trends. I care about what I am projecting to others.

Lately, I have cared a lot more about my outer appearance than my spiritual well being. I have focused on the outside and neglected the inside. Sort of like caring about what your front yard look like but letting the back yard get overgrown with weeds, trash and junk.

All this came to the forefront this past weekend as I spent hours with my family cleaning our back yard. The puppy had shredded toys everywhere, the kids had thrown their trash everywhere but the trash can. Broken toys littered the yard. The grass had grown high. Two dogs had pooped all over the backyard. Broken branches and tree limbs were strewn about.

As I cleaned the yard, I thought about cleaning up myself, my inside, my emotional and spiritual health. I can put on a happy face on the exterior that everyone sees. I can fix my hair and make up, I can have a tan, I can wear cute clothes, but what does it really matter if my heart is cluttered?

I am making the choice today to focus more on the backyard. I will spend more time in prayer and studying the Bible. I will spend more time writing. I will focus on my health, both mental, emotional, spiritual and physical. I will tend to the "backyard" first for a while. I think in my world it's what matters most.

Keeping Score

2009-06-02T09:00:00.003-05:00

EDITOR'S NOTE: Just so you know, I realize that, in the category of gross over-generalizations, that this is definitely one. However, since it is my blog, I am ok with that ...

So I was sitting at my 7-year-olds machine pitch baseball game last night and had an epiphany. This epiphany came after two things happened:

1) Ryan hit a ball that resulted in a 2-run home run, his first one ever. This home run did include some "errors" on the other team's part, but it was a home run for Ryan never the less.

2) A dad next to me of one of our players gets a phone call and he says, "I don't know what the score is ... you know I never keep score."

I was appalled. I not only knew the score but the number of outs, the count on the pitches and that we were winning 4-1 (which ended up being the final score).

So I came to the conclusion that there are two types of people in the world: those who keep score and those who don't. I am obviously the type who does keep score. I always have in everything When my kids were barely 3 and playing in the YMCA soccer league where they don't keep score at all, I always did. I always knew who won and how many goals each kid had scored.

I also keep score in a weird way when I play coed indoor soccer. You see, much to my disappointment, women's goals in coed soccer are worth two points. So I keep score of actual goals, not points on the board, to determine if we actually won or not.

Needless to say, I am pretty ding dang competitive. I don't understand the logic of those of you out there who don't keep score. I mean, how can you NOT care about winning or losing? My brain just won't go there.

Unfortunately, this applies to other areas of my life to in some not-so-flattering ways. I am definitely a person who offers forgiveness to people and not hold grudges*. That asterisk means that I am like that after the apology. If someone owns up to a mistake or admits they were wrong or says they are sorry, I totally forget the error of their ways. But unfortunately for me, it is not easy for me to forgive them otherwise.

One of my best friends brought this to my attention again yesterday. She is totally right. And I know it. And I am working on it. How sad is it that I am this way? I know that I am only hurting myself, but alas, I continue on.

Now I have managed to get past this in some cases, but usually it has taken me years to get to that point. Also very sad. For me. I keep score to my detriment. I know that I should follow the Bible's guidelines on forgiveness. In Matthew 18:21-22 it says, "Then Peter came to him and asked, “Lord, how often should I forgive someone who sins against me? Seven times?”
“No, not seven times,” Jesus replied, “but seventy times seven!"

So here I go working on not keeping score. Here I go working on forgiving without a request. Here I go not holding a grudge or remembering the wrongs in my life done to me by those who never said they are sorry.

But I will keep score in little league. There are some things a mom just has to do! ;-)

Outtakes, Sunday, May 24, 2009

2009-05-24T19:39:00.003-05:00

I have been working on the Mother of All Garage Sales. This requires cleaning, table set up, organizing, hauling loads of stuff, etc. Basically all things sweaty.

I love the MOAG because I make lotsa money off of it. But the work leading up and during it is back breaking. For the record, our MOAG will be this upcoming Thursday, Friday and Saturday. We will have about a dozen families, including one entire estate. You should come and check it out.

Today I realized I couldn't find my professional signs that I had made a while back for my MOAGS. Which means they are probably in my attic. Which means I probably have to disassemble part of my set up to get in the attic and retrieve said signs. Oh, well. At least it is Sunday and not Wednesday when I am realizing this.

*-*-*-*-*

Because I have been in the middle of sweaty work, I have opted to shower in the evenings the last couple of days. This goes against everything that I know. I shower at least once a day every day and sometimes twice. And I shave my legs every day. I have this weird cleanliness thing ...

Anyway, today I stopped by my parents because I had to get some garage sale items and my mom asked me to run to Wal-Mart for her. Wal-Mart on a Sunday with no make up, hairy legs, sweaty hair everywhere and dressed poorly? And the kicker is that it is in Norman. Meaning I will ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY run into someone I know.

Fortunately this year I stopped caring so much about my appearance, so I said I would go, but I made Ryan go with me for distraction purposes. (In other words, so he could distract anyone I ran into with his cuteness ...)

So we go and we had to get dog food (for my dogs) and paint (for my mom). I decided to sneak in the garden center entrance, thereby minimizing the chances of running into someone I know looking and smelling the way I did.

We were almost finished. In fact I was standing at the garden center register about to check out. And then I saw her. My friend ReRe. Fortunately, ReRe is awesome and I could look at her and say, "This is my worst fear, running into someone I know looking and smelling the way I do." I laughed with her about it and she related a story to me about a time she went in Wal-Mart feeling ... not quite put together. I will leave it at that, ReRe.

Norman is the biggest small town I know.

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We just had a fabulous dinner at Outback Steakhouse. For free. Well not really for free. Brad did something nice for someone a while back and they blessed our family with a large gift card to Outback. This was he second meal our family of four shared there.

I told Brad that I hope we are financially able someday to bless some family like ours to a really delicious meal at a restaurant they could normally not afford to go to. It was awesome.

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I've been noticing things about my kids lately that make them distinct. Silly little things. For example, I can always tell their cups apart when there is a straw in them because Will chews on his straw. Also, Ryan is much more likely to meltdown when he is hungry. And sometimes he is hungry and doesn't even realize it so I feed him and it works.

I also have noticed that Will is willing to try new foods. He unsuccessfully tried a cherry tomato tonight. That kids loves every kind of fruit possible, but he does not like the potato. You heard it right, he doesn't like potatoes. Not mashed, not bake, not fried, not scalloped, not au grautin and he barely liked french fries. He always chooses a fruit option at a fast food place instead of fries.

And Ryan is a complete perfectionist. My mom, who is also a perfectionist, was doing a project in the garage and actually had to hurry Ryan along he was going so slowly so he would get it right. I am not sure that has ever happened before.

*-*-*-*-*

I'm thinking today about my Grandpa John (who died in September 2008) and Brad's Papaw Glenn who lives in OKC. They both served our country during WWII. Papaw was a Marine who earned a Purple Heart. Grandpa was in the Navy and it was his job to move explosives on and off ships.

If it weren't for men like them, I wouldn't have the freedom to write this very blog. Thanks to them and to each of you who fought, are fighting and will fight for this country and everything she stands for.

The Wonders of Facebook

2009-05-23T13:20:00.003-05:00

The most amazing thing happened this morning. And it just goes to prove how small of a town and how big of a town Norman really is.

I ran into my Facebook friend Liz Houck and the donut store. Why is this amazing, you ask? Background first: Liz and I grew up two streets away from each other. We went to the same elementary school, rode the bus together, went to middle school and high school together and she was even a nurse at my OB's office when I was pregnant with Will.

But that is really where our common denominators have ended. We both married and had kids who go to different schools. She is a nurse, I am not. We have gone our separate ways. Until Facebook.

It honestly took me a while to warm up to Facebook. First, I had a My Space page. Wah wah. You could do lots of fancy stuff, like add music and decorate your page. But I didn't seem to have a lot of people who I didn't already see on there.

So when a couple of my friends got Facebook pages, I waited. For months, actually. But eventually, I created a page. I started modestly with a few friends. But eventually my friend list grew, and the broad range of friends grew.

If I were to categorize my "groups of friends" that I have on Facebook, it would probably look something like this: my close friends; my close friends' relatives; my newspaper friends; my college friends; my non profit friends; my high school friends; my middle school and elementary school friends; my husband's friends; my church friends; my old church friends; my BSF friends; my family; my kids' friends' parents; my soccer friends. I am sure I am leaving some category out, but that is all I can think of at the moment.

Right now I have 355 friends. This could change at any moment once someone adds me ... or deletes me. (I think it's weird that you don't know you've been deleted, that you just find out when you watch your friend count or when you realize that you haven't seen so and so post a status update in a while.)

Funny thing is some of my Facebook friends have become my regular or close Facebook friends, in my opinion. These are people who post a lot. I tend to keep up with their lives this way. And I love it.

Some of those regulars are people I see a lot. But most of them aren't. Enter my friend Liz. I feel like we have become regular Facebook friends. We talk on Facebook and post on each other's walls. But even though we both live in Norman, I haven't seen her in person since I had Will. (That was 4 and a half and three quarters years ago!)

Until this morning at the donut store. There we both were, fresh out of bed, no make up, in shorts and t-shirts, barely awake. And I hugged her with all my strength. It was so good to see her. And we have kept up through the wonders of Facebook.

Where else can you take a quiz to see what musical character you are most like? Or a quiz on what your dream job is, or what color you are, or what mental illness you have? And my newest favorite is taking a quiz so you can see how well you know someone. I made my quiz and I have taken many more.

And the list craze has died down, but it was neat to get to know people that way, too.

I love Facebook. And I am slightly addicted. But I love it because I can keep up with 355 of my friends and they can keep up with me, but it is on my terms. I share what I want. I tell them what I want. They tell me what they want. And there it is. The beauty and wonder of an online community.

But it was really good to see my friend in person. We should probably try to do that more. ;-)

Missing Gingerbread

2009-05-22T07:34:00.003-05:00

So Will enjoyed his last day ever yesterday at Gingerbread Nursery School in Norman. He was so sad as we pulled away from there when he realized he wouldn't be back. I was sad, too.

But honestly, I am glad he even got to go. Will started in the Tuesday-Thursday Giant class in January. On a whim, I called the Gingerbread office in January to see if there was an opening. My best friend Alison's daughter Beth attended Gingerbread and suggested I called. Although I didn't really know a lot about Gingerbread before hand, I did know that it is wildly popular in Norman.

So when I called, I didn't expect them to have a spot. But I happened to call the same day that another student told them he wouldn't be back for the next semester. They told me if I came and enrolled Will right then that he could have the spot. The rest is history, as they say.

Will loved Gingerbread from his first day. There were 33 kids in his class and 5 wonderful teachers, including Gingerbread's Director Teacher Skye. And Teacher Skye is AMAZING. She plays the guitar and sings and teaches the kids silly songs. They love her.

When I went in to the class to observe the first time, Will had been there a little more than a month. He was already ingrained into the system. And the system worked! The kids knew exactly what was expected of them all the time. They listened to instruction and if they didn't, they knew what to expect. It was amazing.

Just during the spring semester, Will went on field trips to the Omniplex/Oklahoma Science Museum, to take a hay ride, to go fishing, to the dentist's office, and even rode the Heartland Flyer to Purcell. That is just since January! Gingerbread has its own bus (with seat belts), so the kids would pile in and go, go, go!

And the playground at Gingerbread is second to none. There are bunnies you can pet, a HUGE sand box, the big hill, monkey bars, teeter totters, a zip line, forts and everything else kids love to do outside. They had a policy of letting the kids play hard and get dirty and told you so upfront. It is my philosophy exactly. I loved the outdoor activities that Will loved, too!

Will learned the correct order of the alphabet, can now identify the letters and the sounds they make, write his name clearly, count to 100 and many more things academic since he started. But if you asked Will, he never knew he was "learning;" he says he was just having fun.

Gingerbread is a special place. I am sad Ryan never got to go and that Will only got to go one semester. But more than that, I am grateful that he is now an official "alumni." Teacher Skye, the Sutherlins love you and think you are FABULOUS! Thanks to all the teachers for all the amazing things they do and the way they love our kids.

Outtakes: Thursday, May 21, 2009

2009-05-21T09:09:00.005-05:00

So this will be the first of many "Outtakes," or short snippets of randomness happening in my world.

*****

Why is it that the closer to summer it gets that my kids get up that much earlier? Yesterday, Ryan woke up bright eyed and busy tailed at 6:12 a.m. I'm not sure if this has ever happened to you, but he was hovering over me for who knows how long before he whispered, "Momma..." I nearly jumped out of bed and swallowed my tongue it scared me so much.

And today, Will woke up at 6:08 a.m. He snuggled in bed with me and did one of his favorite things: he had me lay my head on his chest. I listened to his breathing and his heart beat and thanked God for him.

*****

For those of you who don't know, we have a new puppy. Lucy is a puggle: a intentional blend of pug and beagle. I got her off Craigslist about a month ago. She is a sweet dog and is doing well with her training. She is about 7 months old and loves the boys. She's the type of dog who loves to snuggle with you all the time, and that is just the kind of dog I wanted!

So we decided that she could sleep in the boys' room at night. As you can imagine, there was an immediate struggle to have Lucy sleep in each boys' bed. She prefers Ryan, the calmer of the two. Will is a little, well, intense. Will is the perfect playmate for Lucy but not so much the perfect sleepmate. So there has been weeping and gnashing of teeth over this.

Last night, I waited until I thought the boys were asleep and waited until Lucy was very sleepy and in my lap and then I took her in and laid her down in Will's bed. Will was barely awake and remarkable still. I encouraged him to lay as still as possible. Apparently, it worked, because when Will - and Lucy - bounded into my bed at 6:08 this morning Will reported that Lucy stayed in his bed all night. When I reported this to Ryan, he said, "I know. Will woke me up at 3:30 a.m. to tell me." Sometimes it's the little things in life that mean the most.

*****

So I was watching this show last night on TLC called, "I Shouldn't Be Alive." I know, uplifting, right? Well, there was nothing else on. Anyway, this episode was about these Boy Scouts who went hiking and ran out of water and all nearly died. In fact one of them did die, a 15-year-old boy. It was so sad. Brad and I were watching the end of it with the boys, and they are very concerned. When the show talked about the boy who died, my sweet 4-and-a-half-and-three-quarters-son Will asks quietly, "Did that boy know God?" Will has somehow figured out that knowing God is all that really matters in the end. I cried about this, of course.

*****

I made the serious mistake this morning of stepping on the scale. I knew I had gained some weight since going through a trying time the last 6 weeks. Unfortunately, I was right. I have gained about 10 pounds. ARRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!! I hate feeling like this, overweight, sluggish and gross.

I know a few things I need to do and I am sharing them with you so you can ask me about it later and hold me somewhat accountable.

1. Cut down on naps for me. I think my favorite past time is napping. Unfortunately this is not so good for burning calories.

2. Cut down on Chewy Chocolate Dipped Granola Bars. I buy eight boxes every time I go to the store, which is about once a week. Now Brad and the boys love them, too, and eat them. And there are worse things they could be eating for a snack. However, I eat most of them and even resort to hiding a couple so I always get this last two. The first step is admitting I have a problem, right?

3. Choose a form of exercise. I hate exercise. Hate it, hate it, hate it.

4. Cook more and eat out less. This should help my budget, too.

5. Step on the scale every day. Even though it will hurt, it is a rockin' motivator.

What steps do you take to lose weight or keep off the weight? I am open to suggestions.

We All Live in a Yellow Backyard

2009-05-20T13:55:00.000-05:00

Any of you who know me or my kids know that Will is my wild man. He is - as he would tell you right now - 4-and-a-half-and-three-quarters right now. One of Will's best qualities and most fatal flaws is that he lives in the moment. Will loves life and lives each moment pretty much without regard to the next.

So Saturday, as I sat on my couch hanging out, listening to the neighborhood kids play at my house, I thought I would be able to tell by the noises from the kids playing - or the lack there of -if Will was getting himself into any trouble. This has worked for me in the past. I have learned the sounds of doors opening that shouldn't, the turning on and off of the water hose, high intensity whispers, or especially evil squeals of joy.

I must have been distracted by the Home and Garden channel this time. What transpired will forever go down in Sutherlin Family History as the Legend of the Yellow Paint.

Earlier in the week we had the people who come out and mark your yard for the things that are buried come out and mark our yard before we had a cable buried. Apparently, there were no gas lines in our yard, which I have now discovered are marked with yellow paint. And I know this for two reasons. There were no yellow marks in the yard when they left AND they left their can of yellow paint erroneously in my yard, which I didn't discover until it was too late.

Will and one of his friends found the paint in the back yard, and, because Will truly lives in the moment, took it upon their artistic abilities to decorate things. Will was the main culprit in the decorating. We had grass, tree trunks, our fence and wooden bench "tagged" with the paint. We had The wooden fort (which, by the way, Brad has built twice and has a special love for) painted in multiple spots. Will painted tennis rackets, his car that he drives around the backyard, other toys and even his most prized and newest toy (a Star Wars X-Wing Fighter that we found at a garage sale the day before) all covered in yellow spray paint. We were lucky the dogs were inside and that he didn't find his way to the front and tag our vehicles. He also was covered in yellow paint himself and had painted parts of his friend's body. It was bad.

I discovered the yellow after 7 and a half year old Ryan confiscated the paint from his brother by method of slugging him in the stomach. Ryan is definitely our rule follower and this was obviously WAY against the rules.

I took will inside and made him shower first thing and told his daddy what happened. After Will's FIRST shower, he was forced to throw away his toys that he spray painted and even a couple of boards on the fort. He then was made to throw away his clothes that had paint on them, including his prized Darth Vader T-shirt. That was especially painful for Will. Then he was set up with a scrub brush, soap and water. Luckily the paint mostly came off.

As Brad took Will inside for shower number two, he gazed up at Brad through his glasses and asked with weepy giant blue eyes, "Daddy, am I doomed?"

Brad answered honestly, "It's too early to tell, son. It's too early to tell."

Just so you know, Will lived to see the next day and has even told some others that spray painting was "really fun." Hopefully the consequences will keep it from being something he wants to do again....

Who am I these days?

2009-05-20T13:44:00.000-05:00

These days it seems like my identity is awash in other people's identities. For example, I am Ryan and Will's Mom. I am Brad's wife. I am Jackie's Best Friend. I am Fred and Anita's daughter. I am the dinner cooker, the chore doer, the errand runner, the clothes washer, the make-it-happener.
I used to have a career that I was proud of. And it isn't that I don't do anything work related, it's just that this identity shift isn't something I really planned for.
But here's the thing; I wouldn't change one single thing about my life. I wouldn't change the good, the bad or the in between. I wouldn't change the constant running from here to there, because I am doing it with my family and for my family. I am answering a call God has on my life. And I may not be very good at it some days, but that's ok. I am happy to try it, even if I fail. Because that's what us moms do.