Things I'm grateful for today...
Mucinex D
antibiotics
kleenex
rain boots
NyQuil
my David
cupcakes
Rainbow Chip icing
Mentholaum
Brynna Grace
a random 60 degree day
Target microrib tank tops
Bones (the show...although I'm also quite fond of my own)
the scan-as-you-go gun at the grocery store
freedom
pale pink nail polish
friends who are family
the schedule feature on Blogger
Dr. Pepper
fresh flowers
grace
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 30, 2013
What Happened at the Play Area
A few things to note:
1. I don't like the concept of play areas at malls. Shopping should be a calm, quiet, enjoyable experience. Children are neither calm nor quiet. An entire group of children herded into a pen like miniature cattle - definitely not calm or quiet.
2. I prefer the mall over the park. Don't get me wrong, I take my kid to the park. But would I rather stand in the cold or heat pushing a swing or walk through the Nordstrom shoe department? Come on.
3. Nothing annoys me like old kids at the play area. So many questions arise: Why is this 12 year old not with other 12 year olds? What does he/she find fun about crawling through tunnels with toddlers? Is he/she really so offended by a 3 year old to need to push and shove? WHERE IS YOUR MOTHER???
4. It's loud. I know I covered that, but it needs it's own sidebar. It's so, so very loud. High pitched squeals, crying fits, moms yelling for Jr. to smile so she can send a pic of him sitting on the turtle to Grandma. Not to mention the guy who drives the train circling the food court ringing his bell every 37 seconds to remind the kids playing that they aren't on the train, thus setting off a round of whining "Can I ride the train nooooow?" So loud. So many things at one time. Sends my OCD tendencies into overdrive.
5. I don't do feet. Don't like any but my own. But they're everywhere. Smelly little feet that can't wear socks because they interfere with your traction when climbing the giant polar bear, and HEAVEN FORBID. WE CAN'T HAVE THAT.
Ok, so this is what happened.
Brynna and I have been cooped up in the house for several days. We've left for gymnastics, Target and the doctor's office, but between snow, rain and illness, we have spent more time at home than we usually do. This is bad for multiple reasons. If I'm at home I need it to be picked up. If BG is at home she needs to line characters down the hall, leave a trail of princess paraphernalia in her wake and tie scarves across every piece of furniture in the living room to "decorate."
So even though I still felt like poo, yesterday we went to the mall. We had lunch with Jason, Brody and McKenna (because who doesn't want McDonald's when they're sick?) then off to the play area. Trying to keep up with Brynna and Brody at the play area is like trying to chase a squirrel. Eventually you'll be exhausted and they'll be perched atop something tall ready to pounce. It's best just to sit back and make sure no one is injured. After a few minutes two kids walk up to me. The boy was at least 7 and his sister about 5. (You already know I'm annoyed.) He said "Excuse me, your daughter was being mean to us."
Stop.
A. How do you know it was my daughter? Are you profiling based on our blonde hair? Rude.
B. If you can articulate in a complete sentence how my 3 YEAR OLD offended you, you're old enough to work it out on your own.
C. And furthermore, you're too old to be at the play area.
They proceed to explain how Brynna told them they weren't allowed to climb on the slide because it was part of her and Brody's castle. I made Brynna apologize and we discussed that she doesn't, in fact, own the play area or make the rules. At this point, I look up and see Thing 1 and Thing 2 still in front of me. (What? Why are you still here? Are you looking for penance? I'm not paying for emotional damages.) Finally, off everyone went.
Or so I thought.
About 20 minutes later I notice the two older kids following BG again. I watched them plan their movements and follow just close enough that it would bother her but far enough that they weren't technically doing anything to her. Sneaky little buggers. As Brody approached, Jason and I watched as Brynna explained, pointed and they both started in the same direction.
Stop.
Don't mess with young love. It will mess you up.
We intersected our kids before the older two were left pulverized, and based on the fact that he had to approach me in the first place, I don't suspect it will be the last time that young man has to be saved from a strong-willed woman.
1. I don't like the concept of play areas at malls. Shopping should be a calm, quiet, enjoyable experience. Children are neither calm nor quiet. An entire group of children herded into a pen like miniature cattle - definitely not calm or quiet.
2. I prefer the mall over the park. Don't get me wrong, I take my kid to the park. But would I rather stand in the cold or heat pushing a swing or walk through the Nordstrom shoe department? Come on.
3. Nothing annoys me like old kids at the play area. So many questions arise: Why is this 12 year old not with other 12 year olds? What does he/she find fun about crawling through tunnels with toddlers? Is he/she really so offended by a 3 year old to need to push and shove? WHERE IS YOUR MOTHER???
4. It's loud. I know I covered that, but it needs it's own sidebar. It's so, so very loud. High pitched squeals, crying fits, moms yelling for Jr. to smile so she can send a pic of him sitting on the turtle to Grandma. Not to mention the guy who drives the train circling the food court ringing his bell every 37 seconds to remind the kids playing that they aren't on the train, thus setting off a round of whining "Can I ride the train nooooow?" So loud. So many things at one time. Sends my OCD tendencies into overdrive.
5. I don't do feet. Don't like any but my own. But they're everywhere. Smelly little feet that can't wear socks because they interfere with your traction when climbing the giant polar bear, and HEAVEN FORBID. WE CAN'T HAVE THAT.
Ok, so this is what happened.
Brynna and I have been cooped up in the house for several days. We've left for gymnastics, Target and the doctor's office, but between snow, rain and illness, we have spent more time at home than we usually do. This is bad for multiple reasons. If I'm at home I need it to be picked up. If BG is at home she needs to line characters down the hall, leave a trail of princess paraphernalia in her wake and tie scarves across every piece of furniture in the living room to "decorate."
So even though I still felt like poo, yesterday we went to the mall. We had lunch with Jason, Brody and McKenna (because who doesn't want McDonald's when they're sick?) then off to the play area. Trying to keep up with Brynna and Brody at the play area is like trying to chase a squirrel. Eventually you'll be exhausted and they'll be perched atop something tall ready to pounce. It's best just to sit back and make sure no one is injured. After a few minutes two kids walk up to me. The boy was at least 7 and his sister about 5. (You already know I'm annoyed.) He said "Excuse me, your daughter was being mean to us."
Stop.
A. How do you know it was my daughter? Are you profiling based on our blonde hair? Rude.
B. If you can articulate in a complete sentence how my 3 YEAR OLD offended you, you're old enough to work it out on your own.
C. And furthermore, you're too old to be at the play area.
They proceed to explain how Brynna told them they weren't allowed to climb on the slide because it was part of her and Brody's castle. I made Brynna apologize and we discussed that she doesn't, in fact, own the play area or make the rules. At this point, I look up and see Thing 1 and Thing 2 still in front of me. (What? Why are you still here? Are you looking for penance? I'm not paying for emotional damages.) Finally, off everyone went.
Or so I thought.About 20 minutes later I notice the two older kids following BG again. I watched them plan their movements and follow just close enough that it would bother her but far enough that they weren't technically doing anything to her. Sneaky little buggers. As Brody approached, Jason and I watched as Brynna explained, pointed and they both started in the same direction.
Stop.
Don't mess with young love. It will mess you up.
We intersected our kids before the older two were left pulverized, and based on the fact that he had to approach me in the first place, I don't suspect it will be the last time that young man has to be saved from a strong-willed woman.
Jan 29, 2013
Because she is mine. And I am hers.
I know you think I make her up. I know you think Brynna Grace is a cool name I thought up then gave an overly dramatic, adorably bossy personality and hired an actor to portray. Seriously, though. How cute is the actor I hired??
As proof she is all mine, here you go...
Exhibit A
Me: We need to get ready to go.
BG: Why, are we late?
it's just assumed...
Exhibit B
Me: We are going to do something fun today.
BG: I can't wait! I'm going to wear my pink shoes!
no idea where we're going, but she's planning her shoes
Exhibit C
Me: We are going to the grocery store.
BG: But it's raining outside.
Me: I know, but we need milk.
BG: But my hair will get wet.
sometimes I wonder if she looks in the mirror and sees a black woman with a relaxer.
ps...we went without milk for that day
Exhibit D
Me: We are both sick and need to take a day to rest and get better.
So far she has played dress up, doll house, worked 3 puzzles, had lunch and colored
I've made a listing brochure, done the dishes, paid bills, made all the beds and straightened the house
She is mine. And I am hers.
As proof she is all mine, here you go...
Exhibit A
Me: We need to get ready to go.
BG: Why, are we late?
it's just assumed...
Exhibit B
Me: We are going to do something fun today.
BG: I can't wait! I'm going to wear my pink shoes!
no idea where we're going, but she's planning her shoes
Exhibit C
Me: We are going to the grocery store.
BG: But it's raining outside.
Me: I know, but we need milk.
BG: But my hair will get wet.
sometimes I wonder if she looks in the mirror and sees a black woman with a relaxer.
ps...we went without milk for that day
Exhibit D
Me: We are both sick and need to take a day to rest and get better.
So far she has played dress up, doll house, worked 3 puzzles, had lunch and colored
I've made a listing brochure, done the dishes, paid bills, made all the beds and straightened the house
She is mine. And I am hers.
Jan 28, 2013
Confessions
I have children's books hidden in my room because to read them one more time might send me ALL THE WAY OVER THE EDGE.
I might smile sweetly, but I have no sympathy for your business trip (i.e.: night alone in a hotel room), client dinner (aka: eating food someone else prepared while it's still hot with people who don't sing the theme song to Backyardigans halfway through the meal) or happy hour (do I even need to translate that?). No sympathy. None. Like, at all.
BG thinks all her princesses have lost their shoes. They are in a bag in my closet.
I'm jealous of my 3-year-old's wardrobe.
Yesterday when she took my bracelet, I didn't use it as a teaching moment. I didn't quietly respond as an adult mother to her child. I snatched it and said "That's mine! Get your own!"
I'm 33 years old and I still do my homework on the way to school. (just now it's Bible study questions and it's before we leave the house because Brynna can't drive)
I only finished the Bible study questions because Lois, my 85-year-old group leader, would call me out for not being prepared.
I might smile sweetly, but I have no sympathy for your business trip (i.e.: night alone in a hotel room), client dinner (aka: eating food someone else prepared while it's still hot with people who don't sing the theme song to Backyardigans halfway through the meal) or happy hour (do I even need to translate that?). No sympathy. None. Like, at all.
BG thinks all her princesses have lost their shoes. They are in a bag in my closet.
I'm jealous of my 3-year-old's wardrobe.
Yesterday when she took my bracelet, I didn't use it as a teaching moment. I didn't quietly respond as an adult mother to her child. I snatched it and said "That's mine! Get your own!"
I'm 33 years old and I still do my homework on the way to school. (just now it's Bible study questions and it's before we leave the house because Brynna can't drive)
I only finished the Bible study questions because Lois, my 85-year-old group leader, would call me out for not being prepared.
Jan 27, 2013
Some Days
Maybe it's just me, but...Some days I don't want to be "The Mom." Some days I don't feel like being the one to hold everyone else together. Some days I feel like falling apart myself.
Some days...
I don't want to learn anymore.
I don't want to grow.
I don't want to mature.
I don't want to gain more wisdom.
I don't want to smile.
I don't want to be a cheerleader.
I don't want to say it's ok.
I don't want to pretend.
I don't want to put on a happy face.
I don't want to make the house look pretty.
I don't want to clean the dishes.
I don't want to do the laundry.
I don't want to cook.
I don't want to work puzzles.
I don't want to color.
I don't want to be the bigger person.
I don't want to clean up your mess.
I don't want to wipe your ___________. (boogers, butt or otherwise)
I just don't want to.
Thankfully, today isn't one of those days for me, but I have them. Some days you just don't want to. Some days you want to be like everyone else in the house and throw a tantrum and stomp your feet. You need someone to pick you up like you do for them. And that's ok.
Some days.
Some days...
I don't want to learn anymore.
I don't want to grow.
I don't want to mature.
I don't want to gain more wisdom.
I don't want to smile.
I don't want to be a cheerleader.
I don't want to say it's ok.
I don't want to pretend.
I don't want to put on a happy face.
I don't want to make the house look pretty.
I don't want to clean the dishes.
I don't want to do the laundry.
I don't want to cook.
I don't want to work puzzles.
I don't want to color.
I don't want to be the bigger person.
I don't want to clean up your mess.
I don't want to wipe your ___________. (boogers, butt or otherwise)
I just don't want to.
Thankfully, today isn't one of those days for me, but I have them. Some days you just don't want to. Some days you want to be like everyone else in the house and throw a tantrum and stomp your feet. You need someone to pick you up like you do for them. And that's ok.
Some days.
Jan 25, 2013
Convinced: Part 2
A few months ago I wrote a blog about healing. I explained that while there are things that may cause me to question or fret, there is one thing of which I am sure. Way down deep in my gut I know...I am CONVINCED that God is a healer.
I said that I was just waiting for another story to add to my treasure chest of ways that God has proven Himself...
I prayed along with hundreds of others for Summer to be healed of the cancer that overtook her body. Summer wasn't healed in the way so many wanted her to be. She went to sing with Jesus in October. In the months since her death, women from all over the country have posted on her Facebook wall and reached out to her family and friends. Women who never knew Summer personally have gained strength in their own battles from the faith she displayed. People tempted to blame God when bad things happen have gained hope and turned to Jesus because they saw so much love in her response to her own pain. When I think of the lives changed forever because of Summer, I'm still CONVINCED.
On Nov. 5, I looked at David and said through tears, "I literally wish it was me. I would take her place to spare her this pain." See, of all my girlfriends, Tania is the sweetest. I have friends who are tough, snarky, smart and bold, but Tania has a calming tenderness about her. If your friends say something about you, Tania gives me hope that there's something soft in the midst of all my rough edges. After carrying her baby girl to term, Tania never got to hold her in her arms while she lived. Lilly Claire died during delivery. But Tania did hold her. And so did her daddy. And they held each other. The day before Lilly's funeral, Tania's husband Bob emailed me these words: Inside my heart I fell to my knees, I just pulled her to my chest and sobbed uncontrollably. It was terrible and beautiful all at the same time. I have never been more proud of my champion wife; I have never been more in love, I have never been more committed to my God and my bride. Lilly never had to hurt in the ways they predicted she might, and thousands of people have watched Bob and Tania deal honestly with the pain of her loss. When I consider how many people have seen faith under pressure and trusted Jesus a little more, I'm still CONVINCED.
Last year Janay joined my family to celebrate July 4th by my parents' pool in Oklahoma. We swam, we ate and we laughed. But in the midst of the fun was a sadness we couldn't deny. It was that day that Janay was supposed to give birth to the baby she miscarried. After months of doctor appointments and the news that her chances of ever conceiving were slim, she and Maurice decided to forego any further fertility treatments. Janay had to fully let go of her dream to embrace God's plan for her - no matter what it may look like. Today, she wrote about the new baby they are expecting - the very same week that her baby would have been born last year. When I think of how this July 4th celebration will be different than last, I'm still CONVINCED.
I'm convinced that God heals according to His will. I'm convinced that He is able to do more than I can even think to ask. I was, I am, I'm still...CONVINCED.
And don't be surprised if you hear a loud sound sometime around the first of July. It's not fireworks. I'm just praising God as I welcome my new niece or nephew into the world.
I said that I was just waiting for another story to add to my treasure chest of ways that God has proven Himself...
I prayed along with hundreds of others for Summer to be healed of the cancer that overtook her body. Summer wasn't healed in the way so many wanted her to be. She went to sing with Jesus in October. In the months since her death, women from all over the country have posted on her Facebook wall and reached out to her family and friends. Women who never knew Summer personally have gained strength in their own battles from the faith she displayed. People tempted to blame God when bad things happen have gained hope and turned to Jesus because they saw so much love in her response to her own pain. When I think of the lives changed forever because of Summer, I'm still CONVINCED.
Last year Janay joined my family to celebrate July 4th by my parents' pool in Oklahoma. We swam, we ate and we laughed. But in the midst of the fun was a sadness we couldn't deny. It was that day that Janay was supposed to give birth to the baby she miscarried. After months of doctor appointments and the news that her chances of ever conceiving were slim, she and Maurice decided to forego any further fertility treatments. Janay had to fully let go of her dream to embrace God's plan for her - no matter what it may look like. Today, she wrote about the new baby they are expecting - the very same week that her baby would have been born last year. When I think of how this July 4th celebration will be different than last, I'm still CONVINCED.
I'm convinced that God heals according to His will. I'm convinced that He is able to do more than I can even think to ask. I was, I am, I'm still...CONVINCED.
And don't be surprised if you hear a loud sound sometime around the first of July. It's not fireworks. I'm just praising God as I welcome my new niece or nephew into the world.
Jan 24, 2013
Prayer Is Not a Plaything
Imagine this: Your car breaks down. The battery died, but instead of calling a tow truck, you take out your cell phone and lay it on the hood of the car.
Imagine this: Your kid is sick, and you don't know what to do. You put your phone to your ear and hold her while she cries.
Imagine this: You need directions. Your cell phone has Google maps, TeleNav and about 13 other ways to find directions, so you sit in the middle of an intersection with your phone in your lap.
Stupid, right? Makes no sense. You're thinking the logical thing: the phone does no good if you don't actually use it. It can have all the best apps but they can't direct you anywhere sitting in your lap. The phone's amazing potential is lost if it's never turned on. It has to be connected.
I'm kind of sick of people talking about prayer like it's an inoperable cell phone. Pardon my rant for a moment, but this is too important to take lightly.
Prayer is defined as "a solemn request for help or expression of thanks addressed to God." Prayer is the ability to talk to the God of the Universe. Can you even wrap your mind around that? Prayer is being allowed to have a conversation with Someone so much beyond our grasp that we aren't even worthy to be in His presence. To mutter something you hope will happen or to think about something you're wishing for is not prayer. We won't even get into how prayer is not sending good thoughts. I don't even know who came up with that or what it means. How do you send a thought? Is postage required? Prayer is not a sweet thing to say when someone is sick. Prayer is not something you do once you've tried unsuccessfully to fix it yourself. Prayer is not a cop-out for waiting without action. Prayer is not permission to do as you please.
Your phone is nothing more than plastic if not connected to the cell network or internet. Likewise, prayer is merely a string of words if you don't know the One to whom it connects.
Am I suggesting you don't pray? Absolutely not! There is nothing more powerful than talking with God. He created you, He loves you and He wants to hear your thoughts, fears, praise and requests. But if you don't know Him, you aren't praying. You are speaking words. You are holding your cell phone, waiting for it to give you directions but never bothering to turn it on. I'm also not suggesting there is a "right" way to pray. Just like there's no right way to talk to your mom, have a conversation with your sister or laugh with your spouse, there's no formula for prayer. As long as it's honest, it's right.
But it must be respected. Prayer is powerful. It has the potential to unleash more joy, peace, healing and love than you can even fathom. It is a privilege. God chose to let His Son go through pain so you could talk to Him anytime you want. I can't imagine the annoyance Steve Jobs would have felt to see something he worked so hard on being used so ineffectively. I can't imagine the gut-wrentching pain I'd feel watching Brynna hurt to give someone an opportunity and then see them make a joke about it. I can't imagine how God feels when the children He loves so much mock Him.
Prayer is not a plaything. It is powerful. It is a privilege.
If you want more info, message me or start reading about God. The book of John is a good place to start, and this version is easy to understand. And always, ALWAYS you can talk to Him. Just do it honestly. He knows when you're faking anyway. :o)
Imagine this: Your kid is sick, and you don't know what to do. You put your phone to your ear and hold her while she cries.
Imagine this: You need directions. Your cell phone has Google maps, TeleNav and about 13 other ways to find directions, so you sit in the middle of an intersection with your phone in your lap.
Stupid, right? Makes no sense. You're thinking the logical thing: the phone does no good if you don't actually use it. It can have all the best apps but they can't direct you anywhere sitting in your lap. The phone's amazing potential is lost if it's never turned on. It has to be connected.
I'm kind of sick of people talking about prayer like it's an inoperable cell phone. Pardon my rant for a moment, but this is too important to take lightly.
Prayer is defined as "a solemn request for help or expression of thanks addressed to God." Prayer is the ability to talk to the God of the Universe. Can you even wrap your mind around that? Prayer is being allowed to have a conversation with Someone so much beyond our grasp that we aren't even worthy to be in His presence. To mutter something you hope will happen or to think about something you're wishing for is not prayer. We won't even get into how prayer is not sending good thoughts. I don't even know who came up with that or what it means. How do you send a thought? Is postage required? Prayer is not a sweet thing to say when someone is sick. Prayer is not something you do once you've tried unsuccessfully to fix it yourself. Prayer is not a cop-out for waiting without action. Prayer is not permission to do as you please.
Your phone is nothing more than plastic if not connected to the cell network or internet. Likewise, prayer is merely a string of words if you don't know the One to whom it connects.
Am I suggesting you don't pray? Absolutely not! There is nothing more powerful than talking with God. He created you, He loves you and He wants to hear your thoughts, fears, praise and requests. But if you don't know Him, you aren't praying. You are speaking words. You are holding your cell phone, waiting for it to give you directions but never bothering to turn it on. I'm also not suggesting there is a "right" way to pray. Just like there's no right way to talk to your mom, have a conversation with your sister or laugh with your spouse, there's no formula for prayer. As long as it's honest, it's right.
But it must be respected. Prayer is powerful. It has the potential to unleash more joy, peace, healing and love than you can even fathom. It is a privilege. God chose to let His Son go through pain so you could talk to Him anytime you want. I can't imagine the annoyance Steve Jobs would have felt to see something he worked so hard on being used so ineffectively. I can't imagine the gut-wrentching pain I'd feel watching Brynna hurt to give someone an opportunity and then see them make a joke about it. I can't imagine how God feels when the children He loves so much mock Him.
Prayer is not a plaything. It is powerful. It is a privilege.
If you want more info, message me or start reading about God. The book of John is a good place to start, and this version is easy to understand. And always, ALWAYS you can talk to Him. Just do it honestly. He knows when you're faking anyway. :o)
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