When I was in middle school, my friends and I made up a game. We'd walk up to friends, teachers, strangers at the mall...and ask them to tell us one thing for which they are grateful. We usually played it on a day that we were upset. For whatever trivial Jr. high reason, we'd had a bad day, so we would declare it "I'm Grateful Day" and play our game to feel better. In the meantime, we often made a lot of other people feel better, too. This week marks three large milestones, and I think it's time for a Grateful Day. Here's mine...what are you grateful for?
It is Christmas - the day we set aside to honor the decision God made to save us. He didn't have to, but he chose to send His Son to become human. He came for the sole reason of saving my messed up, reckless, undeserving life. He chose to come even though He knew He'd die. I'm so grateful He did. I'm so grateful He didn't take the easy way out as I often do. I'm grateful He stopped at nothing to save me. I'm grateful He lets me live the amazing life I do.
I'm a mom - 9 months ago I wasn't. I'm grateful my house is filled with the sounds of someone learning and discovering something new each day (even when what she's discovering is the dishwasher and she's trying to crawl in). I'm grateful that on the hardest days, I will never go without smiling. God didn't have to bless me with the ability to have a child. I'm so grateful He did.
Zoe is cancer free. Exactly one year ago, my family began the hardest journey we've faced to date. In a matter of days, my niece went from a normal, happy 2-year-old to one unable to walk. On December 21st, doctors found a tumor on her spine and operated to remove what they could. We later learned Zoe's tumor was cancerous and in January of this year, she began a treatment plan of chemotherapy and proton radiation. Today, doctors call her a NED - she has No Evidence of Disease. Today, my sister is aware of a strength she didn't know she had before. Today, my family is closer than ever. Today, I don't pray because it sounds nice; I pray because I know firsthand that we couldn't have lived without Him. Today, my heart feels a little too full...I'm so GRATEFUL.
Dec 20, 2009
Dec 17, 2009
listening
Brynna is convinced I can't hear her. She can't use words yet, but about 13 times a day she has something so important to tell me that it overtakes her. She babbles loudly, she bangs on her drum (thanks, Aunt Vikki for the wonderful Christmas present), she grabs my face so I am looking at her, and at times, she even attempts to hit me. Whatever is on her mind requires my undivided attention. What Brynna doesn't understand is that I can hear her just fine. I'm listening even when she doesn't know it. When she's sleeping...I'm listening. When she's playing in another room and it gets a bit too quite...I'm listening. I don't always give her whining, crying or fussing the attention she prefers, but it does not change the fact that I hear her.
I had 3 separate conversations this week with girls convinced that God isn't listening to them. They talk and talk, they yell at Him, they act out in rebellion, all the while convinced that He doesn't hear them. How many times a day does God look down at you or me with the same face I give my 9 month old? It doesn't change His love for us, but He's probably a little tired. Just because He doesn't respond to your whining or rebellion doesn't mean He doesn't hear you. He hears you, baby girl. He's listening.
The question is: are you? When was the last time you stopped to listen to what He has to say? When did you last pick up His Word and read it just to know His ways? Brynna is 9 months old. She's concerned only with herself. She can't grasp yet that I have more to give her than she can see or imagine. You aren't 9 months old, but are you acting like it?
Stop banging on your toy drum. Stop yelling. Stop talking. Listen. And you might just find that He's been listening all along...
I had 3 separate conversations this week with girls convinced that God isn't listening to them. They talk and talk, they yell at Him, they act out in rebellion, all the while convinced that He doesn't hear them. How many times a day does God look down at you or me with the same face I give my 9 month old? It doesn't change His love for us, but He's probably a little tired. Just because He doesn't respond to your whining or rebellion doesn't mean He doesn't hear you. He hears you, baby girl. He's listening.
The question is: are you? When was the last time you stopped to listen to what He has to say? When did you last pick up His Word and read it just to know His ways? Brynna is 9 months old. She's concerned only with herself. She can't grasp yet that I have more to give her than she can see or imagine. You aren't 9 months old, but are you acting like it?
Stop banging on your toy drum. Stop yelling. Stop talking. Listen. And you might just find that He's been listening all along...
Dec 2, 2009
Ode to Beth
Ode to Beth
I used your name as a curse word a few times,
Like every time I sprinted to the gym's black line.
Come Sunday night, I was again a child,
A few Mondays I wondered if I could hide.
I came to hate the rigor you required,
I about dropped my kid, my legs were so tired.
But I now know the name of the muscles to hate
When they scream in pain and are sore and ache.
I can say I've pushed through when I wanted a break,
And I got my tail kicked by a paper plate.
Even though it was hard, I must admit...
All my butt needed was a Beth-sized kick.
Note - I'm not kidding about those paper plates. I almost died. But it worked. If you need a good ab workout, just let me know. I'll share a Beth secret with you. :o)
Nov 23, 2009
How to pick a diner
There are a few main things you need to look for when choosing a diner:
1) Survey the parking lot - If yours is the nicest car in the lot, your odds are looking good. Be suspicious of any place with luxury vehicles lining the rows. The more beat up Ford pickup trucks, the better.
2) Check IDs - You want to be sure you are in the minority when it comes to the number of people using their AARP discount card to pay for their meal. If you are not the youngest person by a few decades, you aren't in the right place. If you are surrounded by cute old men wearing hats with fishing lures tied to the seams...you've hit the jackpot.
3) Keep your eye on the collars - Diners are not the place for a corporate business meeting, so you want blue collars not white ones. No one knows where to find good home cookin' like a man who's been doing manual labor and has 30 minutes for a lunch break. If you don't see shirt patches with the logo of an auto, HVAC, plumbing or construction company, you may want to reconsider.
4) Follow the unfashionable - Eating at a diner is about one thing - good food. It's not the runway. Places claiming to serve home-cooked food where there are 75 people out front in designer gear waiting an hour for a table are not diners. Be suspicious of any establishment where people are dressed in fabrics that require dry cleaning. You are most likely going to spill gravy on your pant leg, so jeans (or the elastic-waisted sweats I wore) are preferable.
Happy dining! Don't forget to tip your waitress - she has at least 2 other jobs, goes to school and has 4 kids. She works hard and deserves a little extra blessing.
Nov 20, 2009
Shhhhhhh!
I had a wake up call today. God called to tell me to shut up and stop my whining. I know you're thinking that's rude. God is so loving and would never tell someone to shut up. Oh, my friends...happens more often than I'd like to admit. God has my direct line and sometimes He has to get loud. It doesn't mean He's not loving. It means I'm stubborn.
For the past two days, I've been complaining. I'm tired; I'm sick of hearing a crying baby; I need a break. Brynna has hit the grossly over-attached phase of life, and it's wearing me out. She wants my attention 24 hours a day. She wants me to hold her or be playing with her constantly, which means I can't get anything else done. (I'm presently typing after just putting her down for a nap. It's almost 3pm, and I haven't showered.)
God just called to say... "Regina. Shhhhh!" Although it's true that I'm tired and it's overwhelming, I am also blessed beyond measure. I have a baby! So many women don't. I have a healthy child! Was it that long ago Brynna left the NICU or my niece stopped chemo treatments that I forgot how to be thankful for every single day of health? I have a kid who wants my attention! How many women right now don't know where their baby is and are wondering if she's alright? So, yeah, God told me to shut up. I needed some perspective.
I talked to a friend this week who got a similar call from God. She's hurting in her marriage. She's struggling with loss of control and all the other fun things those vows bring with them. But what God had to say is, "Baby Girl, shhhhh!" There is no greater blessing for a woman than the love of a godly man. He will provide you with a lifetime of affection if you let him. He will protect and serve you if you let go of the control of how he does it. He will give you children and a place to call Home. His love won't ever be perfect. He's still a man. But how many women want that companionship? How many women would give anything for that bond?
I listened as a young woman who months ago complained of no income now complains about her work environment. God answered the prayer for a job. Did He mess up? Did he give the wrong blessing? No. He's just saying, "Daughter, shhhhh." You have a job! You have food on your table and clothes on your back!
Where do you need some perspective? Marriage, family, kids, work? Maybe it's more hidden. Maybe you're complaining to God about a problem you're causing with your choices. Maybe you're yelling about consequences when you made the decision that led to them. Maybe, just maybe, God wants you to hush. Be quiet. Stop talking. No more yelling. You can't hear when your mouth is open.
And keep it shut. He's not impressed with our ability to sit quietly for an hour. Anyone can do that. Keep that mouth closed for a few weeks and see how clear your perspective becomes. I bet whatever it is will turn out not so horrible after all.
For the past two days, I've been complaining. I'm tired; I'm sick of hearing a crying baby; I need a break. Brynna has hit the grossly over-attached phase of life, and it's wearing me out. She wants my attention 24 hours a day. She wants me to hold her or be playing with her constantly, which means I can't get anything else done. (I'm presently typing after just putting her down for a nap. It's almost 3pm, and I haven't showered.)
God just called to say... "Regina. Shhhhh!" Although it's true that I'm tired and it's overwhelming, I am also blessed beyond measure. I have a baby! So many women don't. I have a healthy child! Was it that long ago Brynna left the NICU or my niece stopped chemo treatments that I forgot how to be thankful for every single day of health? I have a kid who wants my attention! How many women right now don't know where their baby is and are wondering if she's alright? So, yeah, God told me to shut up. I needed some perspective.
I talked to a friend this week who got a similar call from God. She's hurting in her marriage. She's struggling with loss of control and all the other fun things those vows bring with them. But what God had to say is, "Baby Girl, shhhhh!" There is no greater blessing for a woman than the love of a godly man. He will provide you with a lifetime of affection if you let him. He will protect and serve you if you let go of the control of how he does it. He will give you children and a place to call Home. His love won't ever be perfect. He's still a man. But how many women want that companionship? How many women would give anything for that bond?
I listened as a young woman who months ago complained of no income now complains about her work environment. God answered the prayer for a job. Did He mess up? Did he give the wrong blessing? No. He's just saying, "Daughter, shhhhh." You have a job! You have food on your table and clothes on your back!
Where do you need some perspective? Marriage, family, kids, work? Maybe it's more hidden. Maybe you're complaining to God about a problem you're causing with your choices. Maybe you're yelling about consequences when you made the decision that led to them. Maybe, just maybe, God wants you to hush. Be quiet. Stop talking. No more yelling. You can't hear when your mouth is open.
And keep it shut. He's not impressed with our ability to sit quietly for an hour. Anyone can do that. Keep that mouth closed for a few weeks and see how clear your perspective becomes. I bet whatever it is will turn out not so horrible after all.
Nov 19, 2009
Bad Hair Season
Most people have a bad hair day. But I'm not most people. I don't do things halfway. I'm an over-achiever. I like to go big or not at all. So why have a bad hair day when you can have a bad hair season - the whole Fall, for example?
A few years ago, I got my hair cut in the cutest little bob you've ever seen. I loved it. It was my signature cut. Since my white-blonde hair doesn't allow much to experiment with in terms of color, I like to play with styles. Ever so often, I cut my hair short then grow it long. Then I cut some bangs, then I chop it all off again. It's a fun little cycle. When I found out I was pregnant, I started the grow-it-out process. Once I had Brynna, though, I realized it was silly to think that long hair would be easier. And while dealing with this new body that didn't quite feel like mine, I wanted a fun, short cut that was all me - my bob! The girl who cut the signature bob has moved to New York. I have a nice gent who's been cutting my hair since she left, but he's really only maintained the growing out process. I thought maybe it was time for a stylist change. I needed someone who could be fun and creative and not afraid to be a bit edgy. Edgy, however, denotes a cliff nearby and I may have gotten a little close to the side...
I went to a friend of a friend. She cut it short, fun and cute. It wasn't my bob, but I liked it. It was something new, and only a few months post-pregnancy, it was a fun change. She was a bit expensive, so the next time I went to a new girl in the same salon. I was feeling all free and adventurous, so I took in a picture of a much shorter cut. My only fear was it being too short and looking like a boy. She said she'd modify it a bit and it'd be great. Great it was not. Not only did I not get the cut I went for, it was WAY shorter than the picture and wasn't textured well. I had to go to the first girl and have her texture it, taking off even more length.
Now I mean no disrespect to anyone, but if one more person says, "You got your hair cut..." If you didn't know, this phrase does not mean, "Your haircut is cute." If they thought it was cute, they'd say cute. This phrase means, "I noticed your haircut and you caught me so I have to acknowledge it. I don't think it's cute, so I'll just say You got your haircut..." The only thing worse is when it's followed by, "It looks like Kate's hair from Jon & Kate Plus 8." OMG! Really? My hair looks like the girl who everyone made fun of for Halloween? Awesome. Anyone have a paper bag handy? I need to breathe into it. Or wear it as a hat!
The really bad cut was over a month ago. Today I went to have it trimmed and thinned as it grows out. (If you've seen Kate, you know she and I both have thick hair and it tends to become a bit mushroom-like when tucked behind the ear. Yep. I said Kate. Since we HAVE THE SAME HAIRCUT!) Because it was so drastically cut, though, she had to cut it short again to get the layers to grow right. So now...IT'S EVEN SHORTER! I'm going the wrong way. I was scared to look like a boy and now I could pass for my brother.
The moral of today's story is this - if you see me on the street, just take a picture and tell all your friends you saw a reality-TV star...or my brother, Ryan.
A few years ago, I got my hair cut in the cutest little bob you've ever seen. I loved it. It was my signature cut. Since my white-blonde hair doesn't allow much to experiment with in terms of color, I like to play with styles. Ever so often, I cut my hair short then grow it long. Then I cut some bangs, then I chop it all off again. It's a fun little cycle. When I found out I was pregnant, I started the grow-it-out process. Once I had Brynna, though, I realized it was silly to think that long hair would be easier. And while dealing with this new body that didn't quite feel like mine, I wanted a fun, short cut that was all me - my bob! The girl who cut the signature bob has moved to New York. I have a nice gent who's been cutting my hair since she left, but he's really only maintained the growing out process. I thought maybe it was time for a stylist change. I needed someone who could be fun and creative and not afraid to be a bit edgy. Edgy, however, denotes a cliff nearby and I may have gotten a little close to the side...
I went to a friend of a friend. She cut it short, fun and cute. It wasn't my bob, but I liked it. It was something new, and only a few months post-pregnancy, it was a fun change. She was a bit expensive, so the next time I went to a new girl in the same salon. I was feeling all free and adventurous, so I took in a picture of a much shorter cut. My only fear was it being too short and looking like a boy. She said she'd modify it a bit and it'd be great. Great it was not. Not only did I not get the cut I went for, it was WAY shorter than the picture and wasn't textured well. I had to go to the first girl and have her texture it, taking off even more length.
Now I mean no disrespect to anyone, but if one more person says, "You got your hair cut..." If you didn't know, this phrase does not mean, "Your haircut is cute." If they thought it was cute, they'd say cute. This phrase means, "I noticed your haircut and you caught me so I have to acknowledge it. I don't think it's cute, so I'll just say You got your haircut..." The only thing worse is when it's followed by, "It looks like Kate's hair from Jon & Kate Plus 8." OMG! Really? My hair looks like the girl who everyone made fun of for Halloween? Awesome. Anyone have a paper bag handy? I need to breathe into it. Or wear it as a hat!
The really bad cut was over a month ago. Today I went to have it trimmed and thinned as it grows out. (If you've seen Kate, you know she and I both have thick hair and it tends to become a bit mushroom-like when tucked behind the ear. Yep. I said Kate. Since we HAVE THE SAME HAIRCUT!) Because it was so drastically cut, though, she had to cut it short again to get the layers to grow right. So now...IT'S EVEN SHORTER! I'm going the wrong way. I was scared to look like a boy and now I could pass for my brother.
The moral of today's story is this - if you see me on the street, just take a picture and tell all your friends you saw a reality-TV star...or my brother, Ryan.
Nov 17, 2009
Motherhood (aka: Herding Cats)
I've heard the metaphor "herding cats." I always thought it was funny. Then, I tried it. Not actual cats, but a being just as moody, sneaky and volatile - 3 small children. My neice and nephew came to visit the weekend of Halloween. We haven't had pictures taken of them since the babies were less than 2 months old, so I called my friend, Lauren, and asked her to come snap some pictures.
We started with the girls. We thought that would be easy. They love each other, Zoe has a fun hat, they have a matching outfit... what more do two little girls need to be happy? Apparetly a lot. Brynna was just up from a nap, so she was more cooperative than Zoe, but you can see what is to come. That look scares the heck out of me. You smile because it's cute but you kind of cringe because there's a little evil in those adorable eyes. Let's all take a moment of silence and pray together for my life when she's a teenager.
That's not to say there aren't great pictures. They are fabulous. And they will make a great collage photo frame. But that one picture in the middle that was supposed to have all of them together will just be reserved for the score.
Babies (cats): 1, Mommies (herders): 0.
We started with the girls. We thought that would be easy. They love each other, Zoe has a fun hat, they have a matching outfit... what more do two little girls need to be happy? Apparetly a lot. Brynna was just up from a nap, so she was more cooperative than Zoe, but you can see what is to come. That look scares the heck out of me. You smile because it's cute but you kind of cringe because there's a little evil in those adorable eyes. Let's all take a moment of silence and pray together for my life when she's a teenager.
While we waited for the girls to change clothes and pull themselves tog
ether, Lauren took pictures of AJ. He's so easy. He's all boy - laid back, could care less, will smile if you ask but is really more interested in his toes than whatever drama the girls are causing. God love him for that. This portion of the day was more like herding cattle. Cows move when you direct them. Cows listen when you speak. Cats run, screeching in circles, doing what they want rather than what you ask. Case in point - back to the girls.
ether, Lauren took pictures of AJ. He's so easy. He's all boy - laid back, could care less, will smile if you ask but is really more interested in his toes than whatever drama the girls are causing. God love him for that. This portion of the day was more like herding cattle. Cows move when you direct them. Cows listen when you speak. Cats run, screeching in circles, doing what they want rather than what you ask. Case in point - back to the girls.
So the main objective of the day was to get a picture with all three kids. Christmas 
is coming soon and there's no faster way to take care of grandparent gifts than cute pictures of grandkids. They don't care that you spent 47 cents at Walgreens on their gift. They have bragging rights for a year with all their friends and life is good! Apparently we did not clearly define our goal for the models, however, because they misunderstood the purpose of the afternoon's activities. For the most part, they kept the meltdowns to one at a time. They didn't all freak out at once. But they ensured that the best picture of all three of them required that they have toys to chew on.
is coming soon and there's no faster way to take care of grandparent gifts than cute pictures of grandkids. They don't care that you spent 47 cents at Walgreens on their gift. They have bragging rights for a year with all their friends and life is good! Apparently we did not clearly define our goal for the models, however, because they misunderstood the purpose of the afternoon's activities. For the most part, they kept the meltdowns to one at a time. They didn't all freak out at once. But they ensured that the best picture of all three of them required that they have toys to chew on. That's not to say there aren't great pictures. They are fabulous. And they will make a great collage photo frame. But that one picture in the middle that was supposed to have all of them together will just be reserved for the score.
Babies (cats): 1, Mommies (herders): 0.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)