Animal School

This is such a timeless, beautiful reminder of the TRUTH of who our children are!

Spoken like a true bumblebee...

Decidely not A.D.D.

My Mom is convinced I have A.D.D.

To be fair, my Mom is convinced approximately 100% of the general population of planet earth has A.D.D.

A.D.D, as I understand it, means "Attention Deficit Disorder". Deficit? An Attention Deficit? As in, a marked LACK of available attention to administer? There is no way that this definition applies to me.

If anything, I believe I suffer from an "Attention Obesity": an OVER-abundance of available attention, to be spent in spades. In the course of my everyday life, I pay attention to a bevvy of things, people, tasks, and happenings simultaneously. Though it does not define me, multi-tasking tends to play a substantial role in my daily life. (see also: Mother, Woman, Human Being in the 21st Century)

The uncanny ability to allow myself to be distracted by all manner of things as I romp through my days while not going completely insane (teetering is not "completely") would indicate to me an excess of available attention, not a deficit. Thus, I have decided that my beloved mother, God bless her, is quite wrong about her A.D.D. diagnosis in my case. I do not have A.D.D. I have O.A.A.A.D.: Over-Abundance of Available Attention Disorder. It's a new disorder. It'll catch on. Pay attention to the following list of potential symptoms, as taken from my own life of late. Take notes - chances are, you may have this too!

Here are some early warning signs of the apparent O.A.A.A.D. pandemic:

1.) You prefer to have the TV or music on throughout the day to keep you company.

2.) You have been known to talk on the phone and use the computer while tying a child's shoe and cooking dinner simultaneously.

3.) While watching the television news, the following thoughts pelt your brain in rapidfire succession: why is sports news? and why is a poker tournament suddenly a sport? There is no sweating in poker, barring a gladular disorder or faulty casino air conditioner, that certainly seems to be the litmus test of a sport, doesn't it? And what is up with the anchorwoman's hairdo? The white stripe thing in the front ~ the Cruella-DeVille-struck-by-lightening thing? That's all kinds of unattractive. Sheesh... and such pleasant headlines too. Why not just say, "The world is a mess. More evidence of this continuing trend at 11:00." That about covers it every day, all day. I don't like the news. I always forget how much I don't like the news until I watch it. Why do I watch it, then? What channel is that Top Chef show on? Where is the clicker?"

4.) You routinely enter various rooms in your house and stand immobile inside the doorframe for a moment, thunderstruck, trying to recall the reason you went into the room in the first place.

5.) In the course of finishing an ordinary task or project, you are prone to distraction by other tasks or projects. It is in this way that the simple task of completing the laundry manages to evolve to include seventeen semi-related tasks: folding laundry (which leads to...) organizing the unkempt closet where laundry was to be put away (which leads to) sewing buttons onto several items you found while in the process of organizing said closet (which leads to) sharpening the semi-dull scissors in the sewing box (which leads to) sharpening the knives in the kitchen drawers (which leads to) re-organizing the spice cupboard (which leads to) making a new shopping list (which leads to (going to the grocery store (which leads to) stopping at the gas station (which leads to) getting the car washed...all in the ostensible course of doing a simple load laundry.

6.) Even with sugar cookie and hazelnut scented candles burning throughout your house, your olfactory sense can simultaneously detect the precise moment the pork roast is perfectly finished, that the fire in the fireplace needing to be stoked, and that somewhere ~ lurking on the floor above you ~ your 2-year old son needs a diaper change. STAT.

If any of this sounds remotely familiar, I invite you to join me in the ranks of the proud OAAAD sufferers worldwide. With our combined amply abundant attention to spare, together we can change the world! Or, at least pay more attention to it. Come on and join me. We'll make T-shirts and drink Dr. Pepper.

not for the faint of heart

This is Copper's leg.

This is Copper's leg on poison oak.

Any Questions?

I feel so badly for my sweet husband today.
It's been a burny, itchy, weepy, rashy, miserable leg pain kind of Thanksgiving for Copper.
Poison Oak is the devil. Or at least a close relative.

more missing warning labels

Did you know that popcorn + two children under 5 = unbelievable fallout of the relentless stinky, nuclear-waste-flatulence type? At the dinner table, no less.

Yup, me neither. Where was THAT warning label?

For the love of all things holy, there was a mighty unpleasant dining exprience at our house tonight. Courtesy of two tiny heineys and some rather fantastically tragic popcorn-induced gastronomic events.

Whoa nelly. Orville Redenbacher owes me a big explanation. And an air freshener.

the sin dance

The more Christian people I talk with and listen to, the more I open myself to the realization that modern-day structured church has the potential to hinder, more than foster or encourage, transparent accountability among us. It breaks me to contemplate how much in need of shepherding we bunch of sheep currently are.

Notwithstanding the virulent attack on Jesus-freaks from the secular world ~ which has a field day whenever one of us stumbles, and throws a party when one of us falls altogether ~ we aren't sucessfully emphasizing the importance of the grace of Jesus in the equation of salvation, not the glorious flawlessness with which we lead our lives. Definitely, we honor God by striving to follow His lead, teachings, wisdom, and submit our wills to His in all ways. But by the very nature of ourselves and at the crux of the promises we base our lives upon,

WE
ARE
GOING
TO
FAIL.

We are going to sin. We are guaranteed a lifetime of "missing the mark."

Why? Well, shucks. Because I am such a Biblical genius, I'll venture a guess: possibly because with each continuing example of our own inability to achieve for ourselves the elusive and utterly retarded goal of human perfection, we reveal our utter and total need for Jesus.

We are, in basic terms, fairly well deluded when we pursue God with one side of our heart while cultivating the illusion of our own self-made perfection on the other.

I say we should not live in fear of sin. We should not revel in the celebration of others sins as though we have never stepped on the same exact landmines. We do such a lovely job of seperating ourselves from one another by ranking our sin on a sliding scale, don't we? Choosing to pursue homosexuality in defiance of the Word of God is no different from choosing to pursue lying to the extent where it defines one's character. While one becomes a liar, the other becomes sexually depraved. Both equally sin. Both equally miss the mark. Both equally fall under the blanket of "needing grace" in order to be restored in the eyes of the Lord. There is evidence that one brand of sin - the sexual natured sin - is called out as especially treacherous and deplorable by God. But if we use that excuse to somehow excuse ourselves from the various insundry manners in which we manage to screw up, we fail to deal in truth.

And we begin slapping band-aids on cancer patients, attempting to solve a systemic infection by its individual manifestations on our body as they erupt, one sin at a time. No wonder it seems we are running around so often, putting out fires.

Individual sins are not the point. The deeper issue of sin is the point. We should count on it, look for it, expect it, celebrate our miraculous salvation from it.

Because isn't the whole point that we will never make it on our own? That we need Jesus, period? And that accepting Christ is not a paved path to human perfection, but salvation from the cost of our IMperfections?

Certainly the fall of some of our more visable leadership is an example of how we tend to build a Hollywood facade of what "Christianity" should be in order to avoid that dreaded pitfall of being called hypocrites or utter failures. Of having the world laugh and point at our every mistake, bad decision, or choice based on human moral depravity. Though we MUST aim to be transparent, to deny ourselves in the process of picking up our crosses and following Him, should part of that equation be the denial of the reality of our flaws? You know, the very same flaws that cause us to fall on our knees and NEED JESUS IN THE FIRST PLACE? The Lord we share can and will love us and use us, despite our flaws and failings. He promises to. Because Jesus did not come to save perfect people from the perils of perfection. He came to save the broken and lost, to restore a fallen creation to the lustre of His divine intention. By grace. Not by anything the broken, wretched, lost creatures managed to eeek out.

If we can all begin from the starting point of being collectively lost, can we not savor, be grateful for, and be utterly transformed by the process of being found together? Instead of feeling as though we are already miraculously supposed to know the way and lead others by our own volition? What a miserably warped version of the gospel that is!

If the church allows us to duck accountability with one another, what, exactly are we doing on Sunday mornings (and sometimes Wednesday and Saturdays, too?) Are we dressing up, singing songs, and putting on appearances? That sounds lovely. If you add some guys in tuxedos playing instruments, a few singers or dancers, and more elaborate sets (although that last one is somewhat negotiable with the interiors of some churches these days) it sounds awfully much like a night at the theatre. Don't we owe one another more? Don't we owe Jesus more?

I vote yes.

I am decidedly not a cheering fan of the whole "emerging" movement, or the philosophies of the Campolo's, Falwell's, Robertson's, Crouches, or Spong's of our world. Grand movements and brilliant philosophies as a rule, usually fail to impress me. I find deeply scary stuff resonating from the liberal/anti-traditional/fringe side of the pew, and I equally cringe each time I hear a pastor cry out for the rejection of a certain brand of sinners in the perpetuation of the grand lie that "our way is the only way". It is JESUS' way that is the only way. No one has a trademark on that perfection exepct Jesus. Thus, I am a fan of Jesus. Unaltered, unaided, and unapologetic. Because it is on His wings alone I fly, and by His grace alone I live.

When we imagine ourselves to be better than we are as Christians, we devalue the gift of the Cross, don't we? And thus, we begin building that beautiful flimsy facade about ourselves that looks ever so lovely. As long as no one really cares to look beyond the surface and we don't bother to invite them to.

I stand in awe of the church body our family is now blessed to be a part of, allowing transparency and raw, unhoned real people to be welcomed, loved, challenged, and sharpened like pieces of milled iron. But I am learning that, as long as I remain concerned with how other people view me and what other people think of me, yeilding to the temptation of hiding behind a more flawless version of myself is always a risk. So as I dig deep and suck out the marrow of my church community and especially an amazing, newly developing relationship with a sister in Christ with whom I can be utterly authentic, I simultaneously guard myself against the risk of living life as though I've got it together, rather than the truth: that I love and am loved by the One whose version of "together" doesn't require me to.

And I pray for those who are struggling with a false doctrine and laboring under the delusion that being a Christian means that you must be - or appear to be - perfect at all costs.

What an endless race after a rather cruelly dangling carrot.

"The danger is to put the emphasis on the effect instead of on the cause - ‘It is my obedience that puts me right with God, my consecration.’ Never! I am put right with God because prior to all, Christ died...When I turn to God and by belief accept what God reveals I can accept, instantly the stupendous Atonement of Jesus Christ rushes me into a right relationship with God, and by the supernatural miracle of God’s grace I stand justified, not because I am sorry for my sin, not because I have repented, but because of what Jesus has done. The spirit of God brings it with a breaking, all-over light, and I know, though I do not know how, that I am saved." ~ Oswald Chambers

"God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ by grace you have been saved, and raised us up together, and made us sit together in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, that in the ages to come He might show the exceeding riches of His grace in His kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them." Ephesians 2:4-10

All I want for Christmas...

psssssst!!!

Wanna know my secret (or not-so-secret) Christmas wish for 2006:

a new baby

That's not much to ask, is it? Certainly that is reasonable, right?

And honestly, I don't even care if my present arrives this year ~ I just want to know that it will arrive at some point in the future. That soon, I'll know the snuggles and coos of another little baby again. Kind of like a delayed present. LAYAWAY, that's it. Baby layaway.

Think I'll get lucky and Santa will deliver an extra special bundle of joy under my Christmas tree this year? Maybe I am confusing Santa with the stork, and mixing metaphoric symbolic characters? In any case, only time will tell if 2007 brings me the most precious Christmas present ever envisioned or if I get a pair of purple super-snuggly socks again. Which, while delightfully cozy and much appreciated, do tend to come in quite a distant second to the utmost desire of my heart: another little muffinhead to join our family and complete the circle.

Santa may want to tip my husband off.

Mourning missed moments

Sometimes I regard parenting as a journey of surviving our children's agonizingly lingering break from a cocoon. If we are of the impatient sort, we are anxious for their emergence. If we are of the sentimental and deeply emotional type, we languish over every fluttery step. Of forgiveness and healing your bruised heart as you reach the end of each day and realize that the path behind you is littered with missed moments, opportunities to love, to impart, to listen, to care, to hold, to hug, to laugh, to play, to explore. To simply BE with your children.

As a mother, I struggle consistently with going too fast, pursuing my own agenda, to-do list, and seemingly neverending daily tasks. I struggle as I look into the faces of my children and realize how much older they are today than they were last night when I tucked them into bed. I yearn to add hours to the day in order to listen to them more, to hug them and spend time with them until I feel the delightful sensation of being saturated How much I have missed of their lives while I spent my time doing other things. Worthy things, certainly. Neccesary to survival on this planet, certainly. But distractions from the life we are here to celebrate and cultivate, definitely.

I am filled with a unique tang of bitter regret and sweet gratitude at the end of each day. I find myself deeply missing my children even as I savor their presence. Time is the enemy of each parent. Because it takes our children farther and farther from the intimacy that was born the moment when they were formed in our wombs.

Even as I am in a constant state of grace and indescribably grateful for my little ones, loving my muffinheads means, for me, also mourning the passing of each day that takes them closer towards gaining their wings and flying from the nest altogether. And if I am this much of a mess when my kids are 5 and 2, imagine my state when I face furst dates, driving tests, high school graduations, weddings.

It's actually quite terrifying.

I think I need some Dr. Pepper.

food cravings, part deux

The good news:

The peanut butter twix obsession was short-lived.

The bad news:

It has been replaced with this:

Peanut Butter and Chocolate Ice Cream from Baskin Robbins. Sigh.

It's fantasically good. But truly, it's only the peanut butter part that is good. I go digging into the chocolate ice cream for that ribbon of peanut butter ice cream, find every last morsel and discard the chocolate ice cream. I've never been a fan of chocolate, exactly. I see it more as elaborate packaging I have to unwrap to get to the good stuff within. I know - I have issues. Probably the only owner of two X chromosomes who does not adore chocolate for its own sake. But the peanut butter part... that is divine.

Even if it does leave a stark aftertaste: a delightfully glorious blend of regret and guilt.

Why can't I ever crave celery? Radishes? A basic fruit of some kind?... Water?

If anyone asks, you know absolutely nothing about the extra 60 pounds I recently gained, and the tragic diabetic coma I will soon be recovering from.

Late Night Craving...

I should really stop staying up so late creatively avoiding doing the dishes. Super late nights tend to equal sweet or salty food cravings for me. At this point, I am craving this particular treat ~ which is, by the elaborate evil endeavors of the Keebler elves (It's a long story. They hate me.) not available locally ~so badly I am about at the point of considering ordering some online from this habit-forming website that must be to people like me what late-night informercials are to insomniac obsessive collectors of various ceramic tchotchkes, gawdy jewelry, or supercalafragilistic Ginsu knives.


Must.
Get.
More.
Sleep.


Because at a bit past 1:00 a.m. this morning, if I don't get to bed soon, I am in imminent danger of dropping $19.20 plus shipping on a 24-count box of these. I'm almost positive that would be a bad thing.

...Veterans...

May God bless you, Papa Ike and Uncle Frank, and the millions of those who have served and continue to serve alongside you. For your invauable honorable service to our nation, family, and world, I do not have adeuqate worlds or gestures of gratitude.
As I stand in awe of those who stand in the gap for me, protecting and serving both our nation and the freedom, continuity, and protection of humanity, I cannot resist being moved to honor the truest veteran. The first one to give His life for mine. The first to go into battle for my soul, for my life, for my salvation.


I salute and honor and am deeply, deeply grateful for all American veterans from all military branches. But I stand in awe at the first veteran, whose death on the cross whose poignant symbol continues to mark the graves of those who have passed from this world to the next, paved our admission life everlasting.

Twas the Night After Elections

Twas the night after elections,
And all through my house
we ate our family dinner together,
and I snuggled with my spouse.

But low - I've taken phone calls
from friends and family all day long,
with talk of hell and handbaskets
and the whole heated dance and song.

With tales of Senators, far and wide
whose ethics are lukewarm at best.
Of powerful agendas and hatred of the right,
that continues to put our nation to the test.

The War in Iraq has caused emotions to boil
and sent people to polls in throngs
to rise up and send their virulent message
that this lamentable travesty to bring freedom to Iraq is simply horribly wrong.

Costing lives of our soliders by the thousands now,
I share the grief and the heartfelt prayers for peace.
But if we fail our obligation to stand for righteousness and justice in this world,
How will the Islamo-facsist and other cultural genocide ever cease?

Indeed, there is ample reason to be concerned -
as the same people so intent to save the earth
simultaneously champion our glorious legal right to
scrape our children from our wombs before their birth.

Steeling ourselves for a much heftier tax burden
certainly seems quite in order,
as my state ballot this time included 27 different tax increase initiatives -
none of them remotely concerned with protecting our border.

Quality education of our children is a universally shared goal,
but when the same public schools who are forbidden from dispersing aspirin to my child
can now legally arrange for her to leave campus for an abortion without notifying us - her parents -
it seems the system has gone more than a little wild.

Abolishing the offending concept of "illegal alien",
Allowing a border freeflow,
Granting entitlement at the expense of those darned rich people,
Creating increasingly socialized programs as we go.

Seems clearly to be among the goals of the ideology who
yesterday put on the far better show,
and as of now (sayeth the 24 hour news), hold both houses of Congress
- so into a jolly 2-year stalemate we go.

But hey- maybe the whole world will like us more now,
when you stand for nothing - you're an easier-tolerated friend.
And, of course, the economy might also start looking up, too,
because money does tend to be our goal in the end.

Our obese political animal must be tamed
as it's roars have become twangy and old
Indeed, I hesitate to invest much of myself in it now,
even though I admit grinning that at least we kept AH-nold.

Once upon a time, we shared ethics, morals, faith, and goals
But how far we have now sadly roamed,
with tales of even Christian pastors calling themselves "recovered evangelicals"
we've definitely wandered very far from home.

As people put their faith into the mechanisms of man,
be they politics, church, or other
we are forgetting to embody the Golden Rule
and are readily abandoning our love for one another.

It's hard not to be tossed by the gale force winds
as the forces of national change ebb and flow
in the political chess game that seems endless at best,
and is more convoluded than we'll ever really know.

And though hearts are duly troubled by the tremors in Washington
for those who believe it is never as bad as it may seem.
Because God is not limited to the size of our problems,
and His authority alone rules supreme.

Questions

The latest installment of "Questions From My Children":

1.) Why on earth did God make flies, anyway?

2.) Is earth just an elevator to heaven and people can get off wherever they want to along the way? (whoa!)

3.) If I do something bad and no one sees me, is it still bad?

4.) What makes parents the boss of kids?

5.) Were Jesus' parents the boss of Him even though he was God? (again, whoa)

6.) And, possibly my favorite, "Mom, go over there. I am going to push my brother and I don't want you to see." Not a question entirely, but pretty darn funny.

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

I love this photo and its message.

For those who don't understand the reference or have better things to do than keep up with the current state of the US political pie eating contest, Mr. John Kerry managed to insult, degrade, and malign the United States Armed Forces - again. On Monday, the junior senator from Massachusetts warned students in California that those who failed to become educated and smart risked being stuck in Iraq. The implication was clear: U.S. soldiers in Iraq are there only because they are uneducated and stupid. Kerry’s original remarks were bad enough, but then he compounded the problem by claiming that his remarks were due to a “botched joke." Botch this, Senator.

My family is over there protecting and serving. Far from illiterate or uneducated, they bring their advanced collegiate degrees with them as they stand in the gap for all of us. Including those who have such deafening political aspirations that they do not bat an eyelash as they openly denigrate those soliders whose lives are the currency of their national freedoms.

So, a group of our supposedly uneducated, degenerate, dropout soliders decided to set Mr. Kerry straight with this poster they made up and distributed to the world via "Drudge".

Hoo-Rah, boys. Spank away.