Of Questions, and Answers

I was reading a commentary tonight by someone who is known to be an incredibly deep thinker.

Those who know me, would say the same about me as well. I tend to think to a fault. Analyzing the ins and outs of this, that, and the other; without any prejudice for the importance of the matter. I am just as likely to think deeply about folding laundry as I am about the meaning of life.

And the questions that spawn from this thinking...

Oy vey.

It's pretty obvious that when your pastor nicknames you "The Question Box," you have a serious personality trait.

Perhaps, even, a strength that is hard for others to recognize.

In my case, I strongly believe that my need to question what's going on around me is a true gift. It is the ability to see outside of the box. The realization that things aren't always as they appear. And especially the catalyst with which I learn. The day I stop asking questions, is the day that I will be in my grave. But it hasn't always been a part of me that I joyfully embrace.

I've been mocked for it.

Hailed for it.

Scorned for it.

And relied on for it.

Which sends terrible mixed signals. On one hand, I can get phone calls asking me to reiterate something I learned, when I was the only one bold enough to look stupid enough to ask the question in the first place. On the other hand, I've been ridiculed for daring to question something when everyone around me was stewing about that very thing.

So there are consequences to asking questions. I know that.

Most of the time, I can honestly say, I don't ask the question unless I'm ready to deal with the answer. Whether it be to my liking or not. Whether I determine it to be the truth or not. If I can't handle the answer at that time, then I keep my question to myself.

Even information can be acquired in moderation.

I don't need to have a need to know...right now...all the time.

****

"It occurs to me that we should treat answers like pronouns, connectors that get us to the next question." *

Mr. Haseltine's post about asking questions, and the need for answers to be springboards to the next question, is something worth chewing on. Personally, I can justify the concept. I can see the beauty and humanity and true need for endless questions. The drive to continue to wonder, to hope, to strive in the middle of this journey we call "life."

However, in the same breath, I can also see the destruction that accompanies endless questioning.

Because see, when we don't ever find a place to stop, a time to accept, then we are destroying ourselves mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. We are putting ourselves in a position to never acknowledge that there IS a final answer. Which creates a never ending loop of mistrust, skepticism, and even self-divinity. The place where we can no longer come to a conclusion on a matter, is the time where we are our own god. We can't trust any one to have the answer, no one can find the end of a matter, therefore, it is still left to be discovered.

Discovered by whom? Why, ourselves, of course, because that is the only one we can depend on when it comes down to it, right? If this one or that one can't have a definitive answer for something, then who does?

Can God?

And if He does, then some answers are already made available. They can be known. That has to be definite. Infinite. If it isn't, then God is not who He says He is.

There is wisdom, and knowledge, and truth to be had. There always has been.

****

"On a gut level, it is why the surety with which some people navigate complex issues of life feels foreign, even fabricated to me. I am skeptical of people who “have it figured out.” "

Yet, there has to be something that can be figured out. Wouldn't you agree? Let's get basic:

I am a girl.

Period. End of story. There is no further question on that fact. Perhaps YOU aren't too sure about what YOU are, but in my case, there is only one answer:

Girl.

But, let's get deeper:

The earth is round.

Well, there was a time when this was a controversial topic. There wasn't a correct answer to be had. And those who thought they had it "figured out" were either proven to be very right, or very wrong. But Neil Armstrong stood on the Moon, and could conclusively say that the Earth is indeed round, and not flat as was previously assumed.

So this is a known fact. Again, there is no questioning this statement. And if some gentleman from a foreign tribe located deep in the mountains of Laos argues vehemently with me on this point, because he's never been taught otherwise...

...well, that doesn't change the truth of the matter.

In this case, I am the one who has it "all figured out." I am the one with supreme knowledge. With the indisputable fact. There is nothing prideful about that. I cannot change it, rearrange it, or dismantle it even if I tried. You know, it's a matter of "don't shoot the messenger!"

So, let's take it up a few notches:

There is a right way.

Oh, now, this is a biggie. And I believe Mr. Haseltine had concepts of this depth in mind when he wrote what he did. That such philosophical and intangible conclusions should not, could not be broken down into something so meagerly simple. If we make statements of this brand of finality, are we truly being pompous, or are we simply being the messenger?

I would argue for both.

In a court of law, you cannot take the stand to testify on a matter where you have no experience. If you do, you will quickly be judged incompetent and scorned profusely.

Yet, this is how so many of these deep questions are answered. In arrogance. Spit around by drunkards who try to weave and bobble their way into Common Acceptance. You cannot take what they say as Truth, even though they have it "figured out." Credibility is key.

And if that is the case, then credibility is trust. Trust is the ability to accept. Acceptance holds weight now. And messengers can be what they say they are, and can say they are what they have been:

Owners of Answers.

This is not something to shy away from.

****

"There is an art to, “the next question.” It is mystery that fuels passion. It is awe and wonder at the unknown that draws our gaze heavenward."

Above all, I truly believe that there are great questions to be asked, and truly, even greater answers to be had. Both have their rightful place: questions not too arrogant to keep us in a constant state of unknown, and answers not too dismissive to keep us from questioning when it really matters. I can't see why we can't continue to question things, as long as we are also willing to say, "Ok, that settles it." when it is spiritually, mentally, and emotionally pivotal.

And on that note, sometimes those things are vastly different from one person to the next. One person's need to look deeper, does not trump another's need to set a standard. Or vice versa. This is where respect comes into play. I can respect the fact that you haven't settled on an answer yet, if you respect the fact that I have, and will act accordingly.

Because no matter how deep the concept, how unfathomable the mindset, it can still be as plain as the nose on their face---to someone. And they can't change that. Just like I can't change the undeniable truth that I am a girl. Please don't try to change my mind. I have the answer. But if you would like to disagree, I will try to patiently hear out your theory, but I doubt there will be enough exchange of ideas to warrant more questioning on my part.

When we stop acknowledging the fact that we know something to be true, then we also deny the fact that there is a God who designed Truth in the first place. It doesn't mean that there isn't mystery and wonder enough to sustain a person for a lifetime. It simply means that we are Ok...

...with the answers that we are not responsible for establishing,

...and the questions that we were created to be asking.

*With all due respect to Mr. Haseltine, but I am assuming he meant "conjunctions" instead of "pronouns." Conjunctions connect ideas of thought within a sentence, whereas pronouns are specific nouns used to replace a noun by another name. As a self-proclaimed grammarphile, I was a little confused at first, but when I figured out what he meant, the thought's significance rang true.

I Just KNOW Me

Like I was saying:

Remember how I was talking about how BAD I am with remembering dates? And I said that sometimes I only figure out I have an appointment BY CHANCE for the next day?

Yeah, well....

.....I one-upped myself this time.


Today I was rescheduling any appointments I have for next week while I be gone to TN. One was posted on my fridge for the 25th. Check. Rescheduled.

The other was in my purse, and I had checked on it about a month ago. I was pretty sure that it was next week sometime. Either that, or the week after. So I checked on it so I could reschedule it.

Uh, no.

The appointment was TODAY. At 10:30 am.

When did I discover this?

11:20 am.

Me=Bad with dates.

See, Mom? It's not you! Everyone gets the brunt of my can't-remember-dates-itis!

The Bandwagon Broke

So, no, I didn't fall off of it Liz!

I'm still actively trying to lose weight, in case you're wondering. However, this past summer has been a killer for me to try to stick to anything. For 3 months, I did mostly nothing.

But the good news is that I didn't put it back on.

The month of May was just plain nutso. We have our annual Vacation Bible School at the end of May (when all the kids get out of school around here), so the entire month I'm running like a chicken with my head cut off. I appear to eat, sleep, and breathe VBS. As much as I try to plan ahead, there always seems to be some glitches that last month of preparing. And as the designated "Project Leader" for the 10-12 year olds, the glitches have dire consequences at times.

Eating in May is always an afterthought.

Then June brought some more VBS (we work into the first full week of June), and a surprise trip to Florida for 10 days. This present from some close friends was given to me 3 days after VBS ended, and 5 days before I had to leave. I barely had the chance to touch down from May before I had to take off in June. My trip was AWESOME, but I totally didn't worry about what I ate when I was at someone else's house!

Then July started up, and I was going to "buckle down" and rev up my diet again. And I did. But unfortunately, on July 9th a close family friend passed away suddenly. That man was like a grandfather to my children and it was a very hard time. We spent a lot of time mourning with this "Alabama family," and food was always an afterthought. We just picked on whatever was close by---usually things brought over by church family. Even when I was cooking myself, I was just doing whatever I could throw together. I was walking in a dream state a lot of the time.

By the time I started feeling somewhat normal again, I was working hard to put together a bridal shower for another close family friend. This time, it was a young lady who we have "adopted" as our own. Chris and I have called her "our oldest daughter" for years. She would come stay at our house for her parent's out-of-town trips, and we just clicked when she was with us. Just another part of the crew. We love her like she truly is ours, and I wanted to put as much as humanly possible into her shower. It was a labor of love for me because with Chris in school, there wasn't much else I could give her. Again, food was a second thought. If it was close by and edible, I probably ate it. Especially if I didn't have to cook it.

SO...

In spite of all this, I didn't really gain any significant weight. I mostly fluctuated within 5 pounds. It must have been all the stress and go-go-go.

***

As of August, I was back on the trail. I was in the wedding for aforementioned "oldest daughter," and the last thing I wanted was to look like a beached whale next to her on stage. So I lost my next 5 pounds the month of August, in time for the wedding on the 29th.

I'm going strong again now. I took off last week, to take a much needed breather, but today I'm working to get another 5 off for September. I'm finding that I'm having a hard time with exercizing, however. The kids started school again in July, and their video school has taken over my Wii spot. By the time they're done doing school for the day, I'm already showered and not very excited about working up a sweat. I guess I'm going to have to work out something that works with this new schedule.

And hopefully, by the end of September, I should be halfway to my goal. It doesn't seem as though I'll make my goal by New Year's like I had hoped, but I'm ok with that.




Sometimes, life throws cherry pies in your face. And I dare say, your best bet is to lick off the filling and keep your face to the wind.

Crows on Cool Mornings

...always make me long for New England in the Fall.

Wii Be Fit

Oh yes, we're getting somewhere here.

I'm now down 22 pounds!

And with this new toy, I'm sure to lose more. My Mom and Dad got me the new Wii Fit for Mother's Day. It just came out today, and since I had some things to get at the store anyhow, well....I er, just picked up the Wii Fit while I was there...

(Ok, so what if I HAVE been counting down the days?)

Anyhow. Can you say cool? This thing is so neat! It can figure out how much you weigh, your BMI, your center of balance---just by standing on the "balance board" that comes with it. There are 4 different modes of "play:" Strength Training, Yoga, Balance Training, and Aerobics. I already LOVE the Basic Step game, and some of those Yoga poses are TOUGH! You do this initial set-up test to see what your strengths and weaknesses are, what your "Wii Fit age" is (mine is only 35...woohoo!), and set up a goal. So far, it will only let me get out of the "Overweight" category into the "Normal" category, but that's fine. Hey, at least I'm not in the "Obese" category anymore!!

The more you use Wii Fit, the more games you unlock. It keeps track of how long you've been working out (very nice feature), so in various increments it will open up another option to try.

I even liked the fact that it makes your Mii character look as slim or chunky as you really are. No, seriously, this is helpful! I'm pretty sure the character slims up as you do! I mean, comon', that's pretty motivating! Not only will my clothes fit better, but now my digital self will be looking better too---HA!

Here's a short intro video that can SHOW you what I'm talking about:

Oh, and by the way, that soccer ball heading game? Yeah, it may not actually hurt your head, but those cleats flying at you.....it's not easy, and I pretty much stink at that game. LOL.

Oh Yay! A New Post!

I know I know.

You're sick of checking for an update, only to see those incredibly mouthwatering Cadbury Mini Creme Eggs there.

And I am happy to say that I have only eaten 2 of them! That's right. Just TWO. One when I bought them, and one when I made my weight loss goal for March. Ya know, cuz I did so good and all.

And really, a girl just needs some motivation every now and then.

So anyhow. They're gone. No more Creme Eggs at the top of the blog.

I hope y'all are feeling better now.



(Sorry for the lack of updating-ness. But I'm busy! Really busy! Like, super busy! But hopefully I'll be posting some picturesque type thingies soon. Just you wait.....)

They MAKE These!

Ok, I am SOOOOO in trouble!


Do you see this?

Do you SEEEEEE this????

Creme Eggs.....in miniature.......in a little miniature egg carton.......

1 WEIGHT WATCHER POINT EACH

Oh, man, y'all, I am SOOOOOOO in trouble.........

May All Your Rivers be Green

Happy St. Paddy's Day!






Erin go Bragh!

They Won't Bring Me Flowers Forever

There used to be a time when I would stress over little things more than I do now. I guess it comes with maturity, because I just don't let the proverbial "small stuff" bother me so much. In fact, I'm much more of a realist than I ever thought I could be. I can see more angles in that "big picture," and just take things one day at a time.

And I can't say that I liked the fact that little mundane things would bother me. I have never liked that about myself, and now that I'm older, I make a conscious effort to be the opposite in certain matters. Just letting things roll off. Taking things in stride. God's helped me in this way, there's no doubt, because it's simply NOT in my personality to be laid back.

And I'm not saying that I never stress out. Now that would be plain impossible. Everybody gets stressed. I'm just saying that I don't get as stressed with things that are not important in the grand scheme of things. It may not even bother me at all, for that matter. But I still get torqued and twisted in a vice from time to time. And yes, it stresses me.

Children seem to be the most common form of stress in life. My children are no exception. Poor things almost never mean it, but they're just not ever going to be adults as long as they're children. Why do we expect them to be? It's so hard as an adult to see things from a child's perspective, to realize that muddy shoes are not the first thing on a child's mind when there's a fresh PBJ on the counter. I think it's just as hard for an adult to see things from a child's point of view as it is for a child to see things from an adult's. It can be such an impasse at times.

Yet I'm working on it. I am trying more and more to put myself in my children's shoes and see things from 2 feet lower. To take out the extra knowledge that 20+ years have afforded me. It doesn't mean that I allow them to act out in normal, destructive, un-called-for behaviors, it just means that I'm meeting them at their level more. Taking in the significance of the situation, seeing it from their eyes, and acting accordingly.

I'm not getting as stressed over nothing. I'm allowing them to be children.

***

This.....



Used to stress me out.

Now, take into consideration what I've already said before you condemn me. I can't help how I'm wired, but I CAN change it, and with God's help I believe I am.

But the kids picking the nice flowers in my yard and bringing them to me ad-infinitum was an annoyance to me in the past. Or even the UGLY flowers....over and over and over again. And to my small defense, I'm not a flower person by nature anyway. I don't particularly care for Chris to bring me home flowers. I'd rather get a nice foot rub or a trip to the bookstore. So to have my kids bring me flowers as soon as they pop up in the spring (winter?) used to get under my skin after a very short time. I would try to be kind about it, because I could tell how infinitely mean it was to ask them to NOT bring me flowers, but I would quell the flower picking pretty quickly.

But it dawned on me this year:

They won't bring me flowers forever.


And then I got sad.

***

How could I keep them from showing me this kindness? It's not like they can take me out for dinner, or do some of the chores that I would rather not do. They can't pay the bills for me, or pick up the groceries.

But they CAN pick a flower. It so simple and so touching at it's very core.

It's not messing up my yard. Or damaging the landscaping. Or not considering others. This is how I USED to think about it, what USED to stress me out. But I've changed my mind.

This is their love to me. Their devotion to me.

I need to enjoy it while it lasts, because some day they won't pick me flowers. They may buy them at the store, but they most likely won't pick them. And someday, my boys will have someone else to pick or buy flowers for. I expect that I will be loved and honored when I'm older and they're adults, but I won't be idolized (if you'll allow the term) and treated as the center of their universe.



Someday I'll miss that.

The Challenge

One of my close friends and I are in the middle of an all-out war. It's not pretty. Only one party will win, and the other will lose badly. Very badly.

I intend to be the winning party.

***

To those who know me, and those who have read this blog for awhile, it's an obvious fact that I am overweight. To those who don't know this (especially since I don't post my picture on this site), let's just spell it out for you:

Can you say 60 POUNDS?

Yeah. Seriously.

Well, there it is, out there for everybody. No hiding it, no shrinking behind the 6 kids I birthed in 10 years. Just the plain awful truth. 60 irritating pounds that my heart could live without (as opposed to dying WITH).

But why is it that 60 pounds feels so.....uh......yummy? Like a nice fat slice of double chocolate cake? I mean, I even feel that way to OTHER people I'm sure. Squishy. Kinda like how my Grandmother felt back when she was alive. Mmmmmmm.

Well.....back when she hadn't died of a heart problem.



ok.......welll then.....

***

The Challenge is this:

My friend Jeremy (who just happens to ALSO be overweight--but I'm not telling how much he has to lose. HE can tell y'all! Comon' Jer! It's like they do in AA!) decided that we needed to lose weight again. I say "again" because the last time we had a challenge like this, he was trying to get married, and he took the baton and totally RAN with it. In other words, he blew me out of the water and I still owe him a nice dinner for winning. But I digress.....

Anyhow, the Challenge. So we both need to lose weight, and whoever loses the most by Dec 31st gets a big, fat whompum prize from the loser. Which would be him. Cuz I'm NOT losing this time. The stakes are really too high. I need to lose it, I'm done having kids. No more excuses for me.

But, since it became painfully obvious that he loses weight faster and in larger quantities than I, we decided that we should go by a percentage. Whoever loses the higher PERCENTAGE wins the Challenge. He would like to lose a higher percentage than I, but I don't think he's gonna pull it off. Frankly, I just think I'm the bigger loser in general. I just have more will power.

Oh, not to mention, I want to beat him VERY BADLY.

***

One way I intend to win this Challenge is to keep myself accountable to those around me. I really don't care if EVERYBODY knows I'm losing weight and calls me on it constantly. In fact, I signed up for an online log, so I write down everything I'm eating and how many Weight Watcher points the stuff is (see, cuz I'm doing Weight Watchers, for now). As of right now, I get 27 points a day, and 35 extra points a week.

Here's my log so far for today:

I think I'm gonna try to stick this on my sidebar so you can click on it whenever you want, whether I post or not. I'm also putting a ticker up there to show how much I've lost. Talk about accountability! Feel free to check up on me as often as you like. Oh, and comment. Talk smack all you want. I need the push.

I need to WIN.

***

Feel free to join me on my little adventure to winning! Just let me know what you're doing, and maybe you can even put a ticker on your site too. We're not talking New Year's resolutions here people! We're talking LIFESTYLE changes! Working out and everything! No more couch potatoes! No more super sizing! No more Reese's Peanut Butter Cups!




OHHHHHHH!



.....it's getting painful already.....

School's Not Out----Ever

Noah didn't make it. He has 7 chapters left.

Unfortunately, his time management skills aren't up to par. He didn't space the chapters out properly and got bogged down. I tried to tell him, but he did it his own way.

Actually, I'm kinda glad he didn't make it. When I went online to check out the tickets and times, I found out that they were asking WAY more than I was expecting to pay. The production was being put on at a local high school, and I wrongfully assumed that the tickets would reflect high school play prices. But come to find out, a professional troupe was only using the high school's facilities---and charging professional fees. I would've paid it if he completed the book, but I was irritated that I didn't find that out BEFORE the challenge!

I guess we both learned some valuable lessons this week.

Day 28: 2.8

200 Things About Me:








Just kidding!

But this IS my 200th post. My "Bi-Centennial" if you will. Gosh, that seems like a lot of writing, huh?

Let's see, what's the numbers on that?

My first post was on November 21, 2005. So, 365 days to November 21, 2006. Then there were 40 more days in 2006, so that brings it up to 405 days. Then we add the 151 for 2007, and that brings the total to 556 days since I started blogging.

Then we divide that by 200, which gives us 2.78.

Which means I post every 2.78 days, on average. Or, rounded up, is 2.8 (and lookee there! today is day "28"----how cool is that?)

Ha! And y'all thought I was slackin'. Heh! Every 2-3 days or so is not so shabby!

Well, until you look at the month of April. That's not a good picture of my blogging prowess at all. So, let's just forget about April and focus on 2.8, ok?

And hopefully, after this little 30 day stint thing, I can make the numbers even better!

Day 26: The Blogging Day That Wasn't

I sat down to blog yesterday, but read my email instead. Then I read all of YOUR blogs. Then I forgot to post.

Yesterday was Gabe's 5 month birthday. I got one picture of Asher that I was going to use, but I forgot to take pics of Gabe. Then he went to bed.

Man, I'm Oh-for-Two!

Perhaps I'll get on it later.....at least the pics, if nothing else! Hope y'all had a relaxing and enjoyable Memorial Day. Did anyone think of going to the VA or to a parade yesterday? I was thinking of taking the kids to the nearest VA hospital and then maybe a cemetery. Unfortunately, my best intentions just stayed intentions. Much to my irritation with myself!

"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again!"

In other words, hopefully next year! I'd love to hear how y'all spent the day though~!

Day 14: You Can't Say I Don't Know Myself

Like I said, I'm better today.

Is it really that bad? Am I just blowing things out of proportion? Maybe I'm hormonal. That's probably it. Or......maybe I just have bad days every now and then like everyone else, eh?

But I'm not a negative person. I'm definately a "glass half-full" kinda gal. Yesterday's post is SO out of the ordinary for me. I hope y'all can tell that. Now, I even feel bad. Like, I shouldn't really vent at all (unrealistic?). I keep reading that post to make sure I wasn't having a pity party. If I was then it's coming down---I just don't like giving that impression. I don't pity myself. I don't pity Boo. I don't sit around wishing she was something she's not, and I don't begrudge my place in this life.

It just gets hard sometimes, that's all.

That's all I'm sayin'.

***

I know it's normal to have hard days. And even Dana, her teacher, deals with Michaela's little ideosyncracies on a day to day basis---she's KNOWS what my hard days are like. All the teachers in her class do. Like Chris and I tell each other when we vent, "You're preaching to the choir, Honey!" I'm sure Jeni, and Jen, and Evan's Mom, and Thimbelle, and Mete, and all the other "special needs" bloggy Moms have had days just like mine.

And, if I really think about it, so has Mitchi, and Heather, and Denna, and Jules, and Reba, and the other "regular needs" (which can get flat out overwhelming too, right?) bloggy Moms out there.

Raising children is just that way. You have your good days and your bad.

Oh, but you guys are right! The good days WAY outnumber the bad. I know that. I know that.

I guess I just needed a good crying jag yesterday. Know what I mean? Thanks for the shoulder, guys.

AND the prayers.

Y'all are the best.

Day 13: Bad Day

I'm irritated.

You know, it really stinks when you have a special needs child, and you know they need you, and you know they need you in a special way, but you're sooooo exasperated with them, that you can hardly function.

I know that sounds bad. I know that sounds wrong.

But it's reality.

Sometimes, I'm just so downright aggravated with Michaela and all the things she can't do (or things she DOES), that I have to be away from her.

I hate it. I really do.

I'd rather be some kind of super Mom that can have the utmost patience in every circumstance, every time, no matter how many times I have to repeat myself to her. Or, no matter how many times she ignores me, wants to have her way, or downright disobeys me.

You wanna know what it's like? It's like having a child in the terrible twos.

Who doesn't grow out of it.

***

I don't know why, but for some reason, Michaela has been overwhelming the last week or so. She talks constantly. She consistently says, "Huh?" EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. she's told to do something. Even though she can hear us. Without fail, she will tell us what she wants to do, instead of doing what she's told.

I don't raise children like this. I don't give my kids lots of opportunities to do what they're told. They have been trained to obey, or face the consequences. If I say "go," they say "where?" When I tell them to hush, they hush. Temper tantrums are NEVER allowed. Telling us "no" is NEVER allowed.

But Michaela does all that and more.

And I can't treat her the same. That's obvious. But she's NOT two. She's almost 10. She's as big as ten. Yet, her mind is at two. And it's pretty terrible to have a 65 pound 2-year-old who won't obey without a huge production. Two-year-olds get disciplined, then go on their merry way. Michaela pouts, and cries (melodramatic like) and tries to do what she wants. I can't just pick her up and move her to another room like I would with a young child. I can't just stick her in a playpen either! (Oh, how I wish sometimes!!)

***

Today, she talked non-stop. That in itself is mind-numbing. Sometimes, my mind gets so overwhelmed with her incessant chatter and repetition, that all I can do is laugh. Laugh till I cry. Because she can't help herself, and I can't turn her off. If she has her head on something, it's stuck and won't go away. For hours even. There's nothing I can say or do to change her mind sometimes. And so I tell her to hush. But that's useless. So I send her to her room. But her attention span is so short, that she quickly forgets why she's in there. So I give her another toy to play with....same result.

And then I get stern with her. Mean even. Trying to elicit the response I'm looking for (obedience? hello?). Nope. If I try to punish her, she gets her feelings hurt something awful. Like she has no clue what she did that was so bad. Apologizing to me for the longest time.

And you know what? It probably WASN'T all that bad. All I did was tell her to hush, and she wouldn't listen. Why is that so bad? She probably couldn't even hush if she wanted to. But after hours of it, I can't STAND it anymore. I can't function. I'm to the point of tears.

I try to be understanding. I try to talk her through the things I want her to do. I try to be patient. But I'm human. And I have my breaking point. I have my limit.

I'm not supermom.

I'm just "regular mom".......

.....and days like these make me wish I had a regular kid.

Blasphemy, I know. Oh well. Special needs is not a bed of roses.

If it is, then I must not have a "green thumb."





(ok, so I'm venting. welcome to my online diary. come back tomorrow. i'm sure i'll be fine.)

Day 11: Cheese!

Since my Mom and Dad are in town, I decided that I wanted to get pictures taken. Professional pictures. It's been four and a half years since we've had family pictures taken....

...that's BEFORE Libbigail! I have DOUBLE the number of kids now!

Yeah. Pretty pitiful. I know.

I'm not sure why, but the thought of my parents coming just seemed to make me want to get them done. I think I liked the idea of having them in the pictures. I wanted some shots of them with the kids. We also got shots with just the kids, just Chris and I, and my favorite:

Me and my Mom and the girls.

See, 10 years ago, for Mother's Day, Mom and I had our picture taken together. I was pregnant with Michaela at the time, and it was my first official Mother's Day.

So I thought it was neat to get our pictures AGAIN for Mother's Day. This time, with 3 generations. As another gift for Mom.

(And before you get your hopes up, no, I'm not going to post it here. I'm too self-conscience of pictures of myself!)

We got some cute pictures all in all. Here's a couple of the best of them:

The gang with their Grammy and Grandpa

The Kidlettes

And I'll tell ya....you should see the hoops the camera people jumped in order to get the shots to come out! Working with 6 kids, for a total of 10 people is NOT easy. Kudos to Portrait Innovations!

Day 9: Mom And Dad

They drove over 1200 miles to come see us, and they arrived today.

My Mom and Dad are some of the best parents in the world. They raised me right, and taught me what I needed to know to make it on my own. And yet, even now, being a married woman for over 10 years, they still share, give, help and spoil me.

I hope, I pray, that when I'm the parent of grown children, I will be able to be as wonderful to my kids as my parents are to me (and my siblings). I know I will definately TRY, because they have led by example, and so I know HOW to make my grown children happy (even before they're grown), just from seeing how my Mom and Dad treat me---how that makes me feel.

"Special," "Loved," "Cared For"........ the rest can't quite be put into words.

They're just really awesome people :)

Day 8: My Gift, My Time, My Sacrifice

THIS is why I homeschool......

And THIS reason too......






But most of all, I think I just like my kids.

Why would I want them gone all the time?

This is my gift to them: to be their Mom 24/7, to be their teacher, to give my time, to sacrifice my present "freedom," to keep them close.

To train them in the way they should go.

I homeschool my kids. It's my labor of love.

Day 6: Blowing Steam Out My Ears

It's VBS season here.

At our church, it's more affectionately called just "Bible School." I am the project leader for the "junior" aged children, otherwise known as "pre-teen", ages 10-12. I think you can already see where I'm going with this.....

Unlike a lot of VBS programs, ours runs a full 10 days. It is completely homegrown, as opposed to the programs we did when I was a child. Those were pre-packaged kits, if you will. They always had catchy names like "Fun in the Son," "Savior Safari,"or something along those lines. And when I was a "junior" (as we call that age), I was DOING VBS, not attending it. So, working in my congregation's version of Vacation Bible School is quite a change of pace for me.

Like I said, it's homegrown, which means the projects are also that way. The juniors and the older teens only put together one project for the entire program. So it has to take more than a day or two to make. And as the leader in the project department, I have to come up with a project that pre-teens would like to work with and take home.

Both the girls............AND the boys.

And therein lies the rub.

As a female, I am naturally pulled in the direction of projects that have a more girlie side to them: baskets, candles, pottery. Yet, the tomboy side of me tries to keep the process fair and so I work hard to keep it all balanced and enjoyable for the male set.

But sometimes, that's so hard.

10-12 year old males are generally not considered crafty. Yet, I've gotten a few of them to work hard and not sling paint and mod podge all over the room.

Because, that's what they really WANT to do.

Sigh.

***

So, in my efforts to find the perfect project, the perfectly bipartisan project, I often end up completely frustrated. Spent. Worn out. Exhausted. It seems as though every craft store in town has ganged up on me to NOT carry the one item that will put the finishing touches on the craft. And usually, it's that one thing that makes it acceptably boyish. Hence, without it, we couldn't really do the project at all, without leaving the males in the cold.

Because, let's be honest: it's not HARD to find butterflies, flowers, and ribbon paper for papier mache boxes, is it? But go ahead, I DARE you to find paper with footballs, tractors, or race cars. You think it's there? HA! So did I! Go ahead! Try to find them! They're NOT THERE!

ARG!

Oh, but they WILL be AFTER Bible School is over. I assure you. Those craft stores have it in for me. (No offense Mitchi)

***

Today, I put the project together for the first time. It came out nice. I'm hoping that the boys will take to it. It's not as boyishy as I wish it would be, but they can't blame me for not trying. Maybe if they don't like it enough, they can give it to their Mom.

Or their sister.....

***

Here's last years project: marble magnets on a hanging metal plate....

A girlie one....

....and something to suit the boys.

Stay tuned to see what we're doing this year.

Day 4: This Funny Bone Ain't So Funny

My arm hurts.

Don't ask me "why," because I have no clue why it hurts. Or "when," since I don't remember ever hurting it. All I know is, last night when I was getting ready for bed, my elbow started hurting. Around where your "funny bone" is. Dull and achy pain, like when your fingers swell. That dull ache quickly turned into a sharp pain when I moved in certain ways. And later, the ache crept down my arm, affecting those muscles and the hand.

In case you didn't know, it's hard to be an effective Mom, when you're arm is all-but-useless.

And strangely enough, the arm in question is my left arm. NOT my dominant arm. So, how I hurt an arm I don't use as much is beyond me. And even stranger, is the fact that seemingly un-arm-related type movements are killer on a bum arm. Like, bending over, for example. I can attest to the fact that the muscles that run through your arm DO contract (for some unknown reason) when you're bending over. Even if you hold your arm slack. Yup, that elbow just feels like it has to be part of the action. I know this now.

Sooo, I'm trying to get done what I have to, even though it hurts. But just like I did with the toe, I asked my pastor to pray that it would get better quickly, and I trust that it will. I just have to be creative between now and then. So I can actually get something accomplished while Chris is at work tomorrow.

Good thing I like being creative!