We Only Cut Paper With Scissors

She looks so sweet here. She's cutting up index cards and saying, "We cut paper with scissors. We don't cut nofin' else with scissors", to herself.  

It's really all an act though. She knows I'm in the room. I have a feeling when I'm not watching she wears a sinister smile throws back her head and cackles, "We cut EVERYTHING with scissors!!! Hahahahaha!!" And then proceeds to cut everything in sight. 

Then she pulls out the little innocent face when I find that she has cut a whole in her Matilda Jane shirt or and inch off of her hair or the bathroom rug. "Dinah! We only cut paper with scissors!" 

Her perfect little mouth forms an O and she tilts her head and says, "Oohhhhh". Like she's never heard it before. If she had only known...

She passes the scissors to me as if they are offensive to her and she can't bear to hold them another second then clasps her hands in front of her. She stares at the floor with her precious, sad face only raising her eyes and flattering her lashes to peek at me occasionally as I rave on. 

"We only cut paper with scissors, Dinah," I say in another futile attempt to make her understand. 

Why don't you just keep the scissors from her?

Thanks for the suggestion. You are too kind.

I'VE TRIED!!

Believe me, I don't know where she gets them. I have a scissor stash out of her reach and she always finds another pair. She might as well be Edwina Scissorhands.

They are just things, aren't they?

But for heaven's sake, "WE ONLY CUT PAPER WITH SCISSORS!!"

Could You Define Miss America For Me?

I was not able to watch the Miss America pageant last night because we don't have television service in our home. I logged on to twitter before I went to bed and read the tweet by tweet commentary by my pageant watching friends. After the kids and Eric left for school, Dinah had breakfast and began watching a movie. I grabbed my phone to see which contestant won.

What I read made me sick to my stomach.

No, I'm not upset that the winner, Nina Davuluri, is of Indian descent.

I'm grieved because some of the comments I read essentially said this:

The Miss America pageant winner should be representative of the all-American girl and because Miss New York is of Indian descent, it basically disqualified her from this.

Just go to twitter and search #missamerica. You'll see what I mean.

REALLY, PEOPLE? REALLY?

Per the Miss America website, Miss America is required to be

• Be between the ages of 17 and 24.
• Be a United States citizen.
• Meet residency requirements for competing in a certain town or state.
• Meet character criteria as set forth by the Miss America Organization.
• Be in reasonably good health to meet the job requirements.
• Be able to meet the time commitment and job responsibilities as set forth by the local program in which you compete.

I don't notice anything in that statement that specifies a skin color or country of ancestral origin.

"Miss America represents the highest ideals. She is a real combination of beauty, grace, and intelligence, artistic and refined. She is a type which the American Girl might well emulate."

Those words were spoken by Atlantic City Chamber of Commerce President Frederick Hickman more than 75 years ago, and they still ring true today. Miss America is a role model to young and old alike, and a spokesperson, using her title to educate millions of Americans on an issue of importance to herself and society at large.

I could take the Miss America pageant or leave it. I haven't watched a broadcast of it in about 10 years. I didn't aspire to be her and I don't necessarily want my girls to be Miss America even though God made them VERY beautiful on the outside. (That's another blog post in itself.) There are many women who can have the qualities of "beauty, grace, and intelligence" or be "artistic and refined" and still be ugly on the inside, so forgive me if I'm not overwhelmed by pretty packaging and performance.

BUT,

I can't sit back and be silent when people bash a woman for not being the right ethnicity in the country that is made up of immigrants. We all came from somewhere else a few generations back except the Native Americans.


I'm going to leave you with a few quotes but first I congratulate Nina Davuluri, Miss America, 2014.

When asked by an anthropologist what the Indians called America before the white man came, an Indian said simply, "Ours."  ~Vine Deloria, Jr.

Only Americans can hurt America.  ~Dwight D. Eisenhower

Not merely a nation but a nation of nations.  ~Lyndon B. Johnson

It is the flag just as much of the man who was naturalized yesterday as of the men whose people have been here many generations.  ~Henry Cabot Lodge

Quotes courtesy of www.quotegarden.com and www.missamerica.org

Photo credit 

Louie's Itchy Twitchy Feeling

This week we had a first. I am the one who got to take Louie (our new cocker spaniel) to see his new veterinarian for the first time. It was very much like taking a new baby to the doctor for the first visit after they are born.

We introduced ourselves to the receptionist. She handed me a clipboard so that I could tell them everything I knew about Louie. He was busy darting about undeterred by the fact that his collar and leash "clotheslined" him every time he did it.

Despite my reassurances and cooing that he "is a good dog, yes he is" while giving his coat a good rub, he did not feel the need to sit for longer than 2.5 seconds. How am I supposed to be able to fill this paperwork out? I kept thinking I should have brought help. The same thoughts I had taking a newborn to the doctor for the first time.

When the excitement of this new adventure wore off just a tad, he was still enough that I could consider the form.

Name:______________________

Whose name? My name or his name?

I moved on to the next blank.

Spouse:____________________

Well, as far as I know, Louie isn't married. So I just put mine and Eric's names in those blanks.

How will you pay for this visit?________________________

That is the same question I am asking myself, sister.

Is your pet ____part of the family___a child's pet____backyard pet?

Ok. I have issue with this question.

We adopted him. So I guess part of the family? He's our children's pet too, though. Does the fact that a pet is a backyard pet mean that he isn't part of the family or can't be your child's pet? Why don't they just go ahead and ask what they really want to ask?

Do you see your pet as a species of animal or a human with fur?

Do you love our pet more than your family members?

When Sarah McLachlan sings on the SPCA commercial, does it make you want to cry or does it make you a little bit nauseous?

I completed the form as honestly as I could without writing anything I have noted here in the margins.

After we had waited for a bit and listened to a long conversation between the vet and a farmer (who could win a literary prize for his description of his calf's diarrhea), the receptionist asked, "Why are we seeing Louie today?"

Ummmm......."Well-dog visit? We need a heartworm pill also."

She stopped flipping through the file that was in her hand, looked up at me and her face (not her words) kind of said, "That isn't a very good reason." Her voice said, "So, you want him tested for heart worms?"

"No. I don't think he has them. He was treated by a vet before. I just need to get a monthly medicine for him. It has been a month since he had his last dose." She continues to study the file. I followed up quickly with, "He's been itching. He scratches all the time. Even cries while he's scratching."

That did the trick. She was all ears now. Her face became animated and she gushed over Louie. "Poor Louie, bless your heart, yes, bless your heart. We will help you today, Louie."



Louie was weighed. He is a little bit heavier than he should be but I know how that is so we commiserated together in the exam room after the trip to the scale. I explained again why he only got half a scoop of food instead of a whole one like Charlotte. I think I could almost see that he was wondering why he hadn't seen me half-ing the scoops on my plate. Point taken, Louie. He inspected the room and after a bit settled in to wait for whatever came next.

The vet came in and asked a few questions. I called home to ask Teresa what the main ingredient is in his dog food. It was chicken. So that is good. Apparently.  (Our outdoor "backyard pet" Charlotte eats whatever we give her without a problem. It's really neat to see how she leaves nothing but perfectly shining, black olives out of the pile of mexican leftovers we give her. Licked clean except for olives. Amazing. But as evidenced by the fact that she is a "backyard pet" and according to the form, not a part of our family, you can see why we wouldn't know that she might be allergic to beef or dairy.

Louie was a star in the examination room. He didn't bark, bite or run away. He's following the good example set forth by all of the other members of the family. (It is interesting that he got a more comprehensive examination from his doctor that most adults have received from their doctor in years. And it didn't cost nearly as much. Just something to think about.)

He is a bit older than we were told by the people we adopted him from. We had noticed that his hair was turning grey and that his teeth were very worn to have been a 2 year old (as the the previous vet records noted). It's okay though. We may have adopted a grandpa dog but we love him for all his grandpa qualities. He never has accidents. He likes to lay around and just hang with you instead of bouncing from floor to chair, chair to floor. He's still spry but he's mature. We like that.

Back to the itching. Evidently, it could be any number of things so we are going to treat them all at the same time so we won't really know which one it is when it gets better. Then if it happens next time, we'll have to do all of it over again because we still won't have singled it out. I'm just a human nurse though. What do I know?

The doctor and the assistants were very kind and took a lot of time with Louie. That helped calm my nerves about handing him over to them and leaving him for a couple of hours while he got a Lime-Sulfur dip. Because he was not with us and around all manner of pets from unknown environments, it seems that the itching could be caused by a. mange, b. scabies, c. parasites. (If it isn't just an allergy.) It makes me, oh, so glad that we let him rub all over us and the furniture and bedding for the last couple of weeks.

The doctor and staff assured me that I didn't want to stay around for the dip because of the smell and they began questioning where he sleeps. In all likelihood the odor will linger for quite some time and he will need to be sequestered away from our loving, very hands-on children.

I gave Louie some love and explained to him that it was all for his own good. I let him know that sometimes we have to go through difficult things to get better. He wagged his tail in confirmation and was a brave dog as he went off with the assistant.

I wandered around town for 2 hours and then went back to pick up our newly stinky, middle-aged Louie. The doctor explained the medicine for Louie's ears (cockers have trouble with ear infections), the yeast medicine (cockers have trouble with yeast) and he noted that we would need to come back in one week for another Lime-Sulfur dip (cockers have trouble with their skin). (I would like to note that none of these tidbits of information were brought to my attention when I specifically asked the folks at the rescue if Louie had any health problems.)

I was pleasantly surprised that the fee for the day was less than I had speculated and that Louie did not stink as bad as I had prepared myself for. (We are used to the paper mill smell so I'm fairly tolerant.) He rode home with me sitting in the front seat (that was covered with a tarp), and did not seem traumatized in the least. I gave him a treat for being so brave and explained to him that the next few days at home would be different that his previous ones. He would have to stay in the kennel a lot and could not wallow on the beds.

He has been brave and patient so far. He whines a little bit and it upsets me to make him stay put. I called the vet yesterday to see when we could let him out and he said not until after the next dip. Everyone is really sad about that but we all want to do what is best to get Louie better as quickly as possible. He does seem to be scratching less. That is some comfort when the poor boy whines about his present situation.

If he was just a "child's pet" before he's officially "part of the family" now. The medicine bag from the vet made it so.

If It Feels Good, You Ain't Doing It Right

Football season is now upon us. In 2010, around this same time of year, the University of Alabama had a series on ESPN that gave an insider's look at Coach Saban, the players, and the practices. My husband is a really big Bama fan so you know that we watched these not once but twice. My little ones absorbed more of it than I thought they would. They went around the house repeating some of the motivational lines to each other.

It was so sweet.

Made us smile.

Our children are so cute.

Fall not only brings football but it usually brings the school beauty review with it as well. We didn't normally let the girls participate but Tess had been begging for a while and I had a job that let me be off on Saturdays for the first time in years, so we acquiesced.

One of the things that the girls do for the pageant is fill out a form that has a few questions on it. For example: Who do you most admire? What is your favorite color? etc. She was to pick answer at least 3 of the 5 questions. Unbeknownst to me, Tess filled out her form at school and turned it in without me seeing it.

After I found out that she had already handed the paper over, I asked about what she put on it. She most admires her nana (how precious) and her favorite color is blue (I knew that one already. I'm such a good mom.). One of the questions asked, "What is your favorite quote?" When she told me what she wrote there, I can tell you all the fuzzy feelings left me and I think I almost passed out.

She wrote: "If it feels good you ain't doin' it right."

If you would watch this clip (which was part of the ESPN series I was telling you about) you will find at 0:46 the strength coach of the University of Alabama football team screaming this sentence at the players. (I know you might not like Alabama but watch it anyway, or you won't get the post. I'm not trying to convert you.)

In the weight room, it makes sense.

On a elementary school beauty pagaent participant's form, it does not.





I quickly requested another form. We filled it out again and left that answer blank. I thought all was handled and crisis averted.

We found a dress on sale that suited her perfectly. Despite having to hold a crying baby in one arm and fixing Tess's hair with the other, hair and make-up looked lovely as well. We got to the gym, dressed her and pinned her number on. Amelia, Dinah and I made our way up to the stands to watch the review.

Tess's turn came around and she floated out onto the runway smiling and sparkling. I was so proud. That's my beautiful baby. Big smiles. As she promenaded and turned the MC read off the interesting facts from her form.

Then it happened.

In the calm cadence that the master of ceremonies adopted she read, "Tess's favorite quote is 'If it feels good, you ain't doing it right.'"

Without the context of a sweaty weight room and a man screaming it into the face of a football player, it sounded absolutely vulgar.

I wished for a black hole to come and swallow me up. All I could hear was the blood rushing into my head. THEY USED THE WRONG FORM! I couldn't tell if anyone else noticed. I was afraid to open my eyes and see a bunch moms staring at me, shaking their heads in disdain.

I got the courage to open my eyes and I even was able to whisper an explanation to her shocked Nana at my side.

Tess kept on smiling and the pageant moved on. They didn't disqualify her (there was a moment that this possibility crossed my mind) and she was awarded 2nd alternate. She was (and still is) very beautiful. I really think she would have been just as happy if she had not won any prize because she enjoyed dressing up like a princess so much. I was proud of how she behaved that day.

We fussed over her as much as we could without letting it all go to her head.  I held myself together about the quote until I was able to talk with Eric about it that evening. He was the only one who could really GET IT. He had seen the video that it was taken from. He knew about all of the mimicking around the house. He knew how I had taken it off the form and turned a new one in. I recounted the story and tried to convey how time seemed to slow as I felt the urge to throw myself at the podium shouting, "NOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo!!!!"

After it was all over though, all we could do was laugh.  It was either that or cry so we laughed and laughed.

Until now, Tess hasn't been in another pageant. We filled out her form for this year's review the other day. Thankfully, there was no section that asked for quotes and I helped her fill out what I hope was the ONLY copy.

As I think about all of the things we do to achieve the world's idea of beauty (false eyelashes, pancake make-up, hot rollers, straighteners, tanning beds, Spanks, liquid diets, waxing, high heels that hurt our feet, etc.), I believe Tess had it right any way. If it feels good, you probably ain't doing it right.

Simple Faith and Plain Truth

Last Sunday morning was the 2013 Homecoming Service at Union Baptist Church. My mom asked all of us (her kids and their families) to be her guests. It is the church that we attended as children with my parents and my Granny.  For most of my life, I lived just down the road from this house of believers.

I was so glad to be able to be a part of this service. We were the last of our family to enter so we got to sit in the row closest to the front. My mom's offspring filled 3 pews. 

The couple we sat behind were the owners of the pregnant cow that I hit with my car in high school. (That's a whole other blog.) That put a smile on my face that the service began. I helped my children with their hymnals as we sang "Brethren, We Have Met to Worship". They didn't know how to use them. Eric jokingly leaned over and said, "Where's the big screen?" We sang the 1st, 2nd and 4th verse, naturally. 

As we sang songs that I knew so well that I didn't need the hymnal, I began to cry. I'm sure that the choir members probably thought that I hadn't taken my medication or something because I continued to pretty much bawl through the entire service. 

Tears ran down my cheeks as I was full of thoughts of my Granny. Of how she loved going to church and how I loved going with her. She had her spot with her lap afghan because the air conditioning vent blew onto our pew. We sat beside her, used her pen (always an erasable pen-remember those?), twirled her jewelry, leaned on her shoulder or her lap as she tickled our arms. 

I choked up when the pastor talked to the people in the congregation and they talked back to him. There was an atmosphere of family instead of formality that I hadn't experienced in a long time. I couldn't get the words of the doxology to come as we stood to sing after the offering because of the lump in my throat. I cried some more when "Amen!' and "Yes!" rippled through the pews as the preacher gave his sermon.

The thing that got me the most, though---the thing that kept me weeping even when I thought I would stop---was the altar. If you saw it, you would think it ordinary. What made it extraordinary to me were the scuff marks. On both sides of the pulpit, where the people of the church would kneel when they went to the front to pray, the baseboards were worn and marked. 

I thought of all those that had knelt there over the years. Those that were faithful to God's vision for this church and the community surrounding it. They knew the people who lived in the houses around them. A REAL COMMUNITY. You didn't have to go to the church to be loved on by the Church. 

In second place after my home, it was here in this place that I was taught about Jesus. The One who would MAKE my life. It was with these people that I saw His teachings lived out in this locality. Imperfect people trying to practice what they learned. 

There were no big screens, bands, or big VBS productions. Their terminology would now be criticized. Their methodology a bit antiquated. The order of worship might be considered old fashioned. But what I learned there STUCK. And I am thankful for it.

"Onward Christian Soldiers", the pledge to the flags and the Bible, macaroni art, hymnals, and the potluck dinners that we had pale in comparison to some of what is offered in church houses today. Don't get me wrong. The church we attend with people we love has the big screen, the band, and the programs. We have a large beautiful building that we are thankful for. They in themselves aren't bad. They are quite nice.  It's just that we need to be vigilant so that the flash of it all doesn't dim THE LIGHT.

My brother sang a song that morning and I would like to share some of the words with you:

A pastor stands before his congregation

Once a mighty army for the Lord

But now he stares into the lifeless eyes

Believers leading carnal lives

He wonders what they’re fighting for

But driven by a calling on his life

He spoke God’s word like he’d done a hundred times before

But this time he comes broken and weeping

With tears of a broken heart

And he cries out to the Lord

Oh Lord, send Your wind into this valley

And breathe the breath of life into their souls

And raise them again a mighty army

For soon these arisen warriors will battle again

For they have been filled with the Spirit Wind

                       

It doesn't matter if our churches are filled with 2 people or 2000, whether we have a beat up piano or a full orchestra.  It isn't the package that matters but The Message we live and tell. Dear God, help us remember what we are fighting for. I pray our legacy is a generation that is a reflection of You.

1 Timothy 2:1-10

The Message (MSG)

Simple Faith and Plain Truth

2 ^1-3 The first thing I want you to do is pray. Pray every way you know how, for everyone you know. Pray especially for rulers and their governments to rule well so we can be quietly about our business of living simply, in humble contemplation. This is the way our Savior God wants us to live.

^4-7 He wants not only us but everyone saved, you know, everyone to get to know the truthwe’ve learned: that there’s one God and only one, and one Priest-Mediator between God and us—Jesus, who offered himself in exchange for everyone held captive by sin, to set them all free. Eventually the news is going to get out. This and this only has been my appointed work: getting this news to those who have never heard of God, and explaining how it works by simple faith and plain truth.

^8-10 Since prayer is at the bottom of all this, what I want mostly is for men to pray—not shaking angry fists at enemies but raising holy hands to God. And I want women to get in there with the men in humility before God, not primping before a mirror or chasing the latest fashions but doing something beautiful for God and becoming beautiful doing it.

Spirit Wind, Casting Crowns

www.biblegateway.com

Restore, Chapter 8--Thankfulness (Semi)Wordless Wednesday

There aren't really words to describe how thankful we are for all of the special people that helped and prayed and supported us throughout the Restore process and event. So since it is Wednesday, I'll do a semi-wordless post dedicated to those who are such kind and loving friends. Not everyone is pictured here but your faces are forever in our hearts. 

                    

Louie, Louie

We now have an INDOOR dog. We already have Charlotte, a very OUTDOOR dog, but the children wanted a pet that they could cuddle with on the couch in the evenings or to take for a walk on a leash. I think they may be envisioning some film version of child and dog with soft music in the background and lots of slow motion scenes of playful pet bath times.

After the Gold Fish Incident, you all will think I've lost my mind. Actually those are the exact words of my niece when I told her about the dog:  "You have lost your mind." It isn't that she thinks having pets inside is a bad thing. My niece has several indoor dogs. She loves them. But, she has heard me (on repeated occasions) adamantly object to a dog in my house.

The kids have been pleading and as we considered the adopting a dog, instead of pondering all of the reasons NOT to get one, we tried to think of reasons that it would be good to get one.

Dinah has had all summer with her siblings and with them gone to school everyday, I feel it is a bit lonely for her. I can't take her outside to play or to town for a diversion when she wants or needs it because we have to work around Granny's schedule. A dog would be a playmate for her and we could provide a home and love to a pet that needed it.  The older children are (somewhat) responsible and caring for a pet would only foster qualities of dutifulness and dependability. And it would make them all terribly happy.

My mom and I looked at the Corinth Animal Shelter and on Petfinder.com to browse pets that needed homes.  We had decided that an older dog would be better because we wanted one that was more settled because of Granny. We didn't want an excited puppy getting under her feet. We found a Cocker Spaniel in Madison, Alabama at the Animal Rescue Foundation that we thought would be a great fit for our home. He was 3 years old, neutered, house trained and good with kids. I showed Eric and Ty. They agreed that he was wonderful. I e-mailed to get particulars and we readied ourselves.

Then....

We got a call from my niece to tell us that a friend of a friend needed to find a new home for their dog, Honey, because they moved to a leased condo and didn't need to have the dog there. We reasoned that it would be better to get the pet closer to home and this dog was going to be free of charge. So I emailed the Madison foster-owner to tell her that we wouldn't be getting the cocker spaniel. We contacted Honey's owner and planned to pick the pup up on the following Saturday. Through that week, I felt a bit disappointed about the dog in Alabama. I kind-of bonded with his picture. I knew that it made more sense to get Honey but I was sad for the dog that I would never meet. I called Honey's owner Friday night to plan our meeting.

Guess what?

The owner changed her mind.

Surprisingly, I felt relieved. I was so thankful that I had not shown the picture to the girls or told them anything. I quickly e-mailed my new friend at MARF (Madison Animal Rescue Foundation) and let her know that our circumstances had changed again and that if our dog was still available, we would be coming to get him on Saturday. He was still available. Teresa came to sit with Granny while Mom and I drove to the outskirts of Huntsville.

Meet Louie.

Louie was very excited to see us and had no qualms about leaving his home state to travel with us.
He sat in my lap half of the drive home.

(Now all you pet lovers may find this next part a bit cruel. But I have held to a rule of honesty in all my parenting and I felt that I should hold fast to this as a pet owner as well. I wanted to be up front with Louie so that he would not be disappointed.)

I reminded him that all this cuddling with me was only temporary because he was the kids' dog and not mine. I explained that he and I would be friends but that is all. We would not sleep together. I would not let him lick my face. I would not be referring to him as my child. I told him that he would have at least 4 others that would love him sooooo much that he would be glad that I kept my distance. By the time we arrived home, I felt we had achieved an understanding.

We are masters at surprise. The kids were delighted. (As you can tell from the picture above.) Louie loved the attention and got busy sniffing out the house. (He's going to be very useful because he found a moldy tortilla with refried beans in it behind the dining room buffet table within an hour in residence. No. I do not move the buffet when I clean.)

Louie was walked and fed and watered. He had as much love and attention as any dog could want or stand.

There was only one problem.

He kept following ME.

All my speeches and honesty did not have any affect on this sweet dog. He didn't seem to care that I kept pointing him to the children. He didn't notice that I was changing seats around the living room after he came to sit with me. He didn't even get the hint when I went into Granny's room to lose him. 

I wanted to call the foundation and ask if he had any hearing problems that they didn't tell us about. Remember what I said about him not sleeping with me earlier. He must not have heard that. This is where he settled in that night when I went to bed. 

Yes, that is a pillow and the head of my double bed. He apparently thinks the doggy pillow we bought him is only for daytime use. I roused him from his comfy place and sent him packing to Ty's room.

On Monday when the children were gone, he assigned himself to help me with the housecleaning. He licked the silverware that I placed in the dish washer to clean. I must not have rinsed them well enough? He sat in my dirt as I swept the floors. Maybe to keep it from scattering? Dinah kept shouting, "Wouie! Get out of her dirt!" (I say that a lot to the kids while I'm sweeping. They always walk through the pile I've made.) He made sure he sat in front of the dryer as I tried to put the wet clothes in. Maybe he thought he would help pass them over?

I reminded him of the 7 day trial period the rescue foundation had written in the form I filled out and I may have mentioned the words foster-care a few times.

All in all, he's a great dog though. He's wonderful with the children. He revels in their affection and tolerates it so well when they try to put sunglasses on him before I can tell them not to. He hasn't had any accidents in the house. He is eating away at my defenses with his constant devotion. Any being that can love me like that is pretty special.

The trial period was over yesterday and he's a keeper.

(I may or may not have referred to myself as his mama yesterday.)

Blooming Where You Are Planted

The theme for August at Mississippi Women Bloggers is "Learning to bloom where you are planted". I'm sharing a little about how I'm trying to do that and how it has led me to some really good books.

Come join us there and read my "Booklights and Belly Laughs" .

"No man can be called friendless who has God and the companionship of good books." 

                                                                               --Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Happy Reading!!

While The Kids Are Away.....

Eric and the children had glowing reports from school yesterday. Eric is excited about his classes. Ty said he had never made so many new friends in one day. Tess talked about all of her new chums like she had known them for years (I'm not surprised). Amelia couldn't remember her playmates' names (I'm not surprised), but she was excited about them none-the-less. After supper she asked for a hot glue gun so she could make something for her new teacher.

After waiting for news during the eternity that was yesterday, it was a relief to learn they had all had such a favorable experience. I know that every day this year might not be as wonderful as the last but as Mary Poppins  says, "Well begun is half done". It means so much to start off well.

What did I do all day long while they were at school and Dinah was at Papa's? I'm glad you asked. I'll tell you.

I came back home after I dropped Dinah off to let Emily get going. Granny had finished breakfast, her devotion and her newspaper. Emily informed me that the only trouble they had was an uncomfortable question that Gran had concerning a topic in the "Dear Annie" column. I will now have to proof the paper and black out all articles that might be a bit awkward to explain to one's 85 year-old grandmother.

Gran went to her room and settled in to her comfy chair. Granny eats lots of sweets. She never feels like eating a real meal. I offer her a plate full of vegetables and meat and she says, "I don't want that. Just something little...like a cookie". I try not to make issue of it until she has consumed the equivalent of a pound of sugar and nothing else. Because when I'm her age and waiting for Jesus to call me home, I think I'll be the same way. In between fetching her coffee and cupcakes, I was free to do what ever I needed to do.

I could no longer put off all that cleaning that I needed to do. I attacked the laundry first. It says something about one's wash load when it is one's dream not to have granite countertops or master suite but to have an enormous laundry room with two washers and dryers.

After the laundry closet was rocking, I moved on to dusting. I've been sneezing ever since. I had on black yoga pants. They became polka dotted black yoga pants because balls of dust clung to the fabric. (I never get to the dusting when the kids are home. Keeping the house picked up, floors swept and dishes done is about all I can manage. The dust doesn't seem to mind waiting patiently.)

The next item to clean was the fish bowl. We acquired a gold fish a few months ago when the girls won one at the fishing rodeo that the church sponsors. (Thanks, JJ.) I think fish are beautiful. I like to look at other people's fish tanks. But when one comes into our house (especially a gold fish) I don't see a fish. I see failure.

This time we have done much better than in the past. Tess and Amelia have been tending the fish carefully. Tess has been cleaning out the bowl on a regular basis when I don't get to it. The problem is that it doesn't stay clean long and then the water stinks. I thought I smelled something on Monday and yesterday morning as I spent more time in that room, I realized it was indeed the fish bowl.

I took Claire into the kitchen and talked with her as I worked on her home. I washed my hands and did some other things in the kitchen while I waited for her to adjust to the new water temp. I ate a gummy worm in front of her without thinking and felt the need to apologize to her. Then I thought, "She really liked her flakes." She probably didn't even like worms. So I ate another. (Don't you talk to your fish too?)

After I finished cleaning, I placed her rocks, her weed and herself back into the bowl and put Claire back in her place. I fed her and then went on to cleaning the floors. I didn't think about her much after that except that I knew that Tess would be appreciative that I had helped her out with that chore.

In the evening, I noticed Eric standing in front of Claire's bowl and I wandered over there to let him compliment me on how her bowl sparkled. I said something about how quickly her bowl got dirty. He just kept looking as I kept talking. I paused and he said, "She's dead."

I did a double take. She was indeed very still.

"What! She was fine today! And I cleaned her bowl like I always do. I made sure she got used to her water."

"Well, she is still dead."

I had really thought we had turned a corner when it came to fish keeping. We are still just fish killers.

The girls heard and came running.

"Oh, Claire!"

"Poor Fishy!"

I began apologizing. (I did not want to promise to buy a new one. But that is what you do when they cry and are upset, right? You say you are sorry. Acknowledge that no other pet could replace the beloved pet that they lost. But, after some time, if they felt like they could love another, you would let them pick out a new one.)

They just stood there looking for a moment until Tess said, "I get to flush her."

Amelia whined, "But you got to last time."

"It's going to be a lovely funeral," Tess said excitedly.

That response made me feel glad I hadn't told them we could get another. When they asked, I firmly told them "NO".

____________________________________


After the passing of Claire, I began filling out all of the school forms in triplicate.

The forms, while I know they are necessary, just highlight my inadequacies in my memory and as a mother. (It doesn't take much to highlight my inadequacies, even small fish can do it.)

I have to keep asking the kids,

"What day is your birthday?"

"How old are you?"

"What grade are you in?"

"Pull that card back out and make sure I checked Female instead of Male."

I haven't even tried to remember their social security numbers.

I REALLY, REALLY love my kids. I think maybe the forms make me nervous. Like its a test. It's amazing how many numbers are associated with a person and I have so many to remember.

At one point after I had asked one such question of Tess, she said, "You are getting like Granny." as I stated simultaneously, "I'm getting like Granny." She laughed. I sighed.

I'm only 34. Odds are, I have a lot more life to go through. If having all these kids has taken my memory, I pray at least one of them will take care of me.

How did you spend the time while you waited for your little ones to come home?

Fish bowl and accessories available for anyone who needs them.

Christ's Sufficiency on the First Day of School

Well, my husband and sweet children are at school now.

My sister, Emily, came over this morning to sit with Granny so that I could go be with them as they went to Alcorn Central for the first time. (Actually, they have visited the school many times this summer with their dad. I, however, have never been inside the school before except to go into a gymnasium.)

Ty and Tess slipped away from me without letting me give them a last hug and a goodbye. I refrained from chasing them down the hallway and calling their names. (Yes, I can display restraint when I have to.) They went to the gymnasium to get their schedules and have assembly before beginning their day.

Eric, Dinah and I walked Amelia to her class. She is in the new Mrs. Burcham's class. Maybe that will help them connect, with them both learning the school for the first time. Amelia was reserved but was not turning red (a sure sign that she is upset or nervous), so I felt better about leaving her. She was only the second child to arrive in the room so her teacher was able to give her attention that she might not have if she had entered at a later time.

I had planned on sticking my head into the middle school gym to make sure that Tess and Ty weren't sitting by themselves. (Probably far apart, not together.)  (Not sure what I planned to do if they were. I might have pulled a Papa and just taken them home. He's notorious for doing that with them in preschool if he doesn't think the teachers and other toddlers are paying HIS grandchild enough attention.) But Eric seemed to want to shake Dinah and I because he kept showing us exits and telling us goodbye. After 6 exits, I took the hint, peeled Dinah from him and carried her out while she yelled, "I need my daddy!" I didn't scold her because I felt like yelling, "I need my family!"

I suppose it was a successful start because only Dinah and I cried. I was doing fine until we prayed while we waited for Emily to get to the house. If I need to function without tears, it is usually better that I just rest in knowing that God knows our need, instead of trying to talk to Him. I fixed my face just in time to get outside and grab a picture before we left. I knew this was my only chance because I have never done very well at getting a snap shot of them in their rooms. I usually have a baby or toddler hanging on my arm and the children are trying to be cool and not notice me. So from prior experience, I knew just to be glad I was getting this photo.

As we pulled out of Deer Park, I turned my blinker on for the wrong direction. Thankfully, I was following Eric because if I had not seen him turn right, I might have gone on for a bit on autopilot without noticing. Poor Tess saw it and said nervously that I should have let the car continue toward the highway. Bless her.

I wanted to give them something encouraging to have their hands on to while they were at school today so I wrote out Philippians 4:13 on notecards for them. When I can't be with them, I love that God's Word can be. I (any probably you) have memorized the NKJV but I have been stuck on the Amplified Bible lately and this verse is a perfect example of why I am.

Philippians 4:13

Amplified Bible (AMP)

¹³ I have strength for all things in Christ Who empowers me [I am ready for anything and equal to anything through Him Who^[a]infuses inner strength into me; I am ^[b]self-sufficient in Christ’s sufficiency].

I like how it is explained in the brackets. "Self-sufficient in Christ's sufficiency", that is a word we needed today! I think I might need it more than they do but I'm glad it is there for all of us (you too). 

This is the shot I got before we all loaded up and drove to school. (Eric declined being in the pic but I can tell you he looked handsome and was smiling too.) I'm praying they will be wearing those same smiles this afternoon. It is funny that those same kids that gave me the slip this morning probably will be fighting with each other to tell me about their day. (That's why I don't mind the slip. I know they really love me and know I love them.)

Poor Dinah just had to go to Papa's because she was devastated to be left behind. He had a new Barbie puzzle waiting for her, so I think she forgot all about the pain. :)

Oh, and despite what I said yesterday,  I didn't take and hour, or two, or three to miss them. I wanted them back before I walked out of the building. What a blessing they are to me.

I'm Going to Miss My Kids!

Man, I love my kids.

I posted something funny this evening that my Tess told me. I don't think she was trying to be funny when she said it but it made me smile none-the-less. If I posted all of the moments like those that our family has everyday, I would have to hire someone to do it because there are so many of them.

Funny moments, sad moments, tender moments, difficult moments and crazy-mom-is-freaking-out-again moments make up my day. Lately we've added stop-everyone-be-quiet-because-Granny-is-confused moments. You know like when you were a kid and your dad was driving in bad weather so the radio got turned off and everyone sat still as stones until you got home because it was important that he concentrate? I get like that when Granny is confused and the children can tell when they need to go sit down, be still and keep Dinah entertained because my full focus has to be on Granny. (How great are they to know that and understand that? Pretty great.)

I joke that every time I've had a child go to kindergarten, I have another baby because I can't stand not having someone with me. (I guess it isn't a joke because I've really had a baby every time one of them went to kindergarten. I don't have anyone going to kindergarten this year, so I'm not having a baby. Well, that and Eric says we can't have anymore because in all probability he is going to be attempting to draw his Social Security before Dinah graduates and he wants to retire before he turns 80) I miss them so much when they aren't here with me.

Yes, there are times when I think, "I've got to have an hour of peace or I'm going to go crazy." When they are fighting non-stop and I am tired and I can't take it any more, August and a new school year doesn't seem so bad. But I really want them with me, because an hour (maybe a couple of hours, or three) after they are gone, I am wanting them home again.

I don't know if you know it, but I'm a homeschool mom wannabe. Ever since Ty was a toddler, I have prayed that I would get to keep my children home with me. So far, God has not seen fit to grant me that request. Maybe He is protecting me (or my children) from myself. Maybe I would be a horrible homeschool mom. I don't know. All I know is that my babies are and probably will always be in public school.

My husband is a school teacher. Being around the teacher community for some time, I hear or have heard in the past other teachers or people from the community complain when a teacher's children are homeschooled or even that they don't go to the same school that the teacher does. I may have been one of those complainers at one time or another.

And then on the other side of the coin, (maybe because I want to be one of them) I have experienced feeling (real or imagined) that a homeschool parent didn't think I was doing the right thing for my children for allowing them to go to public school. It's kind of hard not to think that when they are telling you all the reasons they wouldn't let their child cross the threshold.

What have I learned from both of these sides and with years of experience being a mom? That each parent has to do what they think is best for their children by following the Lord's guidance in all things. It really isn't any of my business where anyone else's child goes to school. I should only voice opinions about my own children and keep all other thoughts to myself. As long as we have sought His direction for our children's education and have listened for His voice and feel we are walking in that way, I (I say "I" here because Eric doesn't feel guilty about it) shouldn't feel guilt either way.

So tonight on the eve of a new school year, I thank God for public school and the fact that we are able to be a part of what He has planned there. I pray for all of the administrators and teachers that will walk those halls and teach in those classrooms. They have a huge job before them and can only do it through the Lord's strength. Satan wants them to fail. He wants them to mess up. Our prayers need to be many for those who teach.

I pray for the parents who will watch their child go out the door in the morning and wish them back again. I pray for the parents who don't get to take their child to school and kiss them goodbye at the door. I pray for the children. I pray that they would each have an adult who loves them and cares for them and is able to clothe them and help keep them clean and keep them fed. I pray that each child will find a caring teacher on the other side of the door in the morning. I pray that we as parents remember that just because we send our children outside the home to be educated, it doesn't mean that we aren't teachers ourselves. I pray that we take up our responsibility as well.

I pray also for my homeschool friends. I thank God that they have the opportunity to teach their children at home because not everyone has that option. I ask blessings on their homes as they decide on and prepare curriculum. For those who are weary from being 24/7 caregivers without a moment to themselves, I pray for them strength and peace of mind and opportunities for rest. I pray for their children as well. That they will have focus as they take their lessons at home.

I hope that you see my heart about all of these things. I had no intention when I started this post that it would end up here. I just thought I was going to tell you about how much I love my sweet (most of the time) children and how much I am going to miss them (at least after an hour, or two, or three) tomorrow. Granny, Dinah and I will probably just sit and stare at the wall and wonder where the summer went.

I am so grateful that my children don't feel like I did about school. (I would have loved to have been homeschooled as a child. To be honest though, with my crippling shyness, I think that if I had been, I might still be living with my mother and looking a bit like Bette Davis in the first part of Now, Voyager.) But as they go to a new school in the morning I will have to pray for extra measure of peace to outweigh the butterflies for them and myself. If you have time, we would appreciate if you would pray for them also. Alcorn Central is a lot bigger than Biggersville. (Yes, that is a bit of a paradox.) I'm praying they won't be overwhelmed and they make friends easily.  They will be missing their other friends more as they go to school in the morning.

Tess shot down my offer to make a commercial with testimonials from her current friends about what a great friend she is. She is on her own now. I tried to help. I packed a stick (a small one--It kind of looks like a pencil) in Ty's back pack for him to beat the girls off. I know he's my kid but I think anyone would tell you he is handsome and he has a personality to go with it. It's killing me. Amelia told me that she was going to wait until the day after tomorrow (because she was sure that she would have friends by then) to let them know she was crazy. I let her know we might need to keep that to ourselves, especially with new friends, but she assured me it was the good kind of crazy, the fun kind. (So we know who to pray for a little extra.) As their mama, I know they are wonderful kids and my greatest comfort is as they walk into a school knowing very few people that they all 3 have the Holy Spirit going in with them.

So I hope you'll forgive this very all-over-the-place post and excuse me while I cry a bit before I go to sleep.

Prayers going up for all school people, home and public, (And Private!)

Anna

Letter From A Coach's Wife

Since Eric and I have been married, he has only coached at 2 schools. Rienzi and Biggersille are almost extensions of each other so its like it was only one. I had been a student at Biggersville and since we married 2 summers after I graduated, there wasn't much time for me or the school to change much before I became a part of it again through my husband.

I always kept the books for Eric's ballgames until sometime after Tess was born and I was able to finally convince Eric that I could not watch a 2 year-old and a 6 month old and keep the books at the same time. He thought I was more talented that I actually was. And apparently still had a notion that I could handle anything thrown at me because he moved me to the concession stand with said toddler and infant in tow. :)

As the years passed, more babies came, and I began to work outside the home more, I was unable to make it to all the ballgames like I wanted to. It just doesn't make a whole lot of sense to have young children out in the freezing cold (because most of the season is spent sitting outside at night in temps below 50 degrees) or to have them crying incessantly at home because they were sleepy when they had to take a bath at 10 p.m. because they had school the next day and we had been at the ball field.

We went to as many games as we could that coincided with the right temperature, location and my being off from work. This past year when we might have been able to participate more fully in being present to support our team, Granny came to live with us. We attempted to go to the games and just sit in the car a few times until it became apparent that while Granny did well on these outings, she became more confused after we came home. So, again, we became home cheerleaders.

I've struggled with this outcome and even though I have felt the decisions made were the best for our family, I have fallen into the trap of comparing myself to other coaches' wives. I know that some wives would never miss a game, no matter what the weather or how many children they have in tow. I know that some know all the players' names, their positions and their stats. Sincerely, my hat is off to them because I don't know how they do it. With homework and housework and a job, I am barely keeping up.

My insecurity about it finds me questioning Eric. "Are you really okay with me staying home tonight?" "Do you think I don't care about the team? Because I really do." "I hope the parents know that I don't just stay home because I don't feel like going."

Being the woman that I am, when he reassures me that it is okay that I am not there and that he agrees with me, I immediately question that too. "Is it not important to you that I am there?"

Yes. I have issues.

So now, as we venture to Alcorn Central with new people and a new team, my insecurities rise to the surface again.

I'm horrible at meeting new people. I have NO small talk. I try to just smile big and pray you don't think I'm stupid when I don't have anything to say. I try but the more I do, the more my mind just goes blank. I have trouble remembering names and it has nothing to do with how much I like you. And that's just when I am able to be present. I will hardly ever be able to come on campus. I'm absent more now than I have ever been because of Granny. I even have to miss some of my children's ballgames now.

I am doing the best I can trying to balance all the demands placed on me with the desires of my heart. So instead of listing all of the ways that I feel I may be falling short, I thought of the things that I can offer as a coach's wife.

I love my husband. 

Eric is a coach. While he is also many other things, the coach portion is one of the larger parts. Because I love my husband as a whole, that includes the coach part. I've never referred to myself as a baseball widow. I'm a part of his team as much as if I was a player or another coach. I listen. I ask questions. I comment. I am interested. I am engaged. I care.

When I don't get to go to the games, after the kids have gone to bed, I sit on the couch to welcome him as he arrives home and ask, "How'd it go?" I'll listen to his recounting of the game, inning by inning and then sit with him as he calls in the score.

How does that help you?  I understand that for a portion of the fall and from January to May, I will be on my own a great portion of the time. I hope that by being supportive of my husband in his calling and not complaining about the time he spends away from us helps him be the best coach he can be.

I love your children.

You see him at the practices and at the games but you don't see all the time he spends preparing. You don't see him talking on the phone with parents and grandparents about their kids. You don't see the hours he spends making cookie dough so that he can sell it to buy equipment for them. You don't know that he offers his time and expertise without renumeration for the benefit of the school and team. You don't see the hours he spends mowing, weed eating, and painting so that they can have a ball field to be proud of.

I think that your children are important. Their lives have meaning and are valuable. Eric's impact on them will be far-reaching so I feel that sharing my husband is worth it.


I love Jesus.

I pray earnestly for the administrators, the coaches, the players, the parents and fans. I pray for the other teams. I pray for the referees and the umpires. I pray about the uniforms that you'll wear. I pray for safety. I pray about attitudes and sportsmanship.  I pray for wisdom for all of us. So that we'll understand what is really important and what is not. That we'll stand up for what needs to be defended and know when to let something pass. That we would be thankful for the times we get things right, and learn from the times we get things wrong. That we would be honorable in the winning and in the losing.

You know those insecurities I mentioned? (I would have loved to have left them out of this post, but I'm trying to be honest here.) They seem to be my major struggle in life. Jesus is trying to work them out of me. But no matter how my head runs away from me, I know in my heart that He holds us securely in His hands.

Loving Jesus, however imperfectly I do it,  helps me love my husband and love your children.

Well, I'm afraid that is all. It is only 3 things but I promise to be faithful in them. And I look forward to the time that I get to know you all. You will be able to go from wondering if I'll ever talk to wishing I would hush up and let you get a word in edge-wise.