That Whole 'Sickness & Health" Thing

After my parents forked over the price of a sleek foreign-made sports car for my college education, I decided that I should have studied something else.  I spent 4 years in the education department:  cutting, gluing, coloring, reading, and making file folder games.  But, it wasn't long after graduation that I wished I had done something else.

Nursing school.

I should have gone to nursing school.

I have thought a couple of times through the years about dropping everything and joining up in the program.  Don my scrubs and get to work saving the world...or at least a person or two. But then I had babies.  And decided to homeschool.  And I live at the baseball field 9 months out of the year.  And.And.And.  And none of those things are conducive to nursing programs.

But this week I was granted the opportunity to stretch my nursing legs.  To see if I had the right stuff.

I don't.


I don't.

This week I have played nurse to the husband.  And I discovered very quickly that the scrub-life ain't for me.  A very very quick discovery, I might add.

It all started Tuesday morning.

Kirk went to the gym.  Like normal.  He worked out.  Like normal.  He was walking.  Like normal.  And he fell.  Like NOT normal.

Turns out Kirk's busted ACL (which he's known about for a year now, and had a surgery to take care of it on the books for March) decided to go ape-wild, and when Kirk hit the floor at the gym, his cartilage went ape-wild with it.  After trying to get it "popped" back into place and failing miserably, he called me and said, "Get me to my doctor.  Stat."

So off we went.  The ortho doc is about a 30 minute drive from us, so we loaded up the entire crew and headed that way, fully expecting the doctor to pop the knee back in place and send him home with a handful of pain pills and a pat on the back.

Ixnay on the going omehay.

Turns out the doctor couldn't get it popped back in either, and he scheduled Kirk for urgent surgery THAT DAY.  Whahuh?  That was not what I had planned for my day when I woke up that morning.

Long story short...we got the kids squared away, we had A VERY ROUTINE surgery done, and we went home.  With a fistful of pain pills and a pat on the back.

And so began my nursing career.

Just so happens that my first AND LAST patient can't just do things normally.

We spent Tuesday night and Wednesday day and night at home on the most powerful pain meds that a person can take by mouth. And it was the most excruciating day and nights that I have ever spent.  And I birthed 3 babies...without pain meds. 

Yes.  It was that bad.

After waking up Thursday morning and being in even more pain, we headed to the Physical Therapy center per dr's orders...because MOST ACL patients start therapy 2 days out.

The husband isn't normal.  Remember?

The therapists took about 3 looks at him and said, "This ain't right, Mister.  Get thyself to thy doctor."  (Although I think I'm just making up the redneck/King James voice in my head...but that's how I remember it.)

So after talking to the doctor's office, we very gingerly made our way back the 30 minute drive to his ortho.  Every move and bump and brake of the car caused him to grimace and use his not-pretty words.  I seriously had never seen anything like it....


He got in the doctor's office.  When the doc started tinkering around with the husband's knee, I thought all hell was going to break loose.  The doctor's face turned a strange shade of green and sheer panic stretched across his face.  And (in my memory) in his very best redneck/King James, he said, "This ain't right, Mister.  Get thyself to the hospital." 

So here we sit.  We're going on 24 hours in the hospital on some pretty hardcore pain meds. 

And here's what we know:  NOTHING.

Seriously.  Nothing.  The doctor just came in to see him, and, basically, they have no idea what caused Kirk to not respond to the pain medication.  They've run tests and done x rays, and everything about this very routine surgery checks out as very very normal. 

They just don't know.

And right now, we are just having to be okay with the not knowing part.

We do have a plan though.  Kirk is right now being taken off of his drip drugs with the magic button that he gets to push every 6 minutes, and they are moving him over to pain meds by mouth.  And then we wait.  If he can tolerate it through the night, then we go home.  If it goes crazy again, then we stay and rehook to the drip. 

It's hard to not know.
To watch this big ole' burly man cry real salty tears because the pain is so ridiculous.
To see him hurt.
It's hard to wait.
And watch.
And sleep on these horribly awful foldout pieces of plywood that they call "Family Beds." 

One thing I do know though....

No nursing school for me.  I've had enough.


I'm sticking with the flight attendant dream.

Peanuts, anyone?


Are you there? It's me, Horton.

I spent precisely 64 minutes today on the phone with a very nice man named Raj. Raj is from New Delhi but he pretended he was from Milwaukee. I was on to his little game, but I played along because Raj is the grand puppeteer determining whether I get Internet access back in working order at my house or not. So while I wait on Raj to do his thing, I'm stuck banking, blogging, and surfing from my phone. Which is a pain in the tail. So I sucked it up and tried to butter Raj up....

My Internet has been all kinds of wonky for the past several weeks. So I'm unashamedly blaming my blogging nonexistence on that. But...just to keep it real, there have been lots of other things occupying a lot of my minutes....


1) I've returned to the pit of hell..er...the gym. My jeans that were very loose-ish around Thanksgiving have started to groan when I try to pour myself in them, so I decided it was a sign. But I have definitely decided getting fat is WAY more fun than getting skinny. Yah, carbohydrates. Boo, chicken and brown rice.

2) I went to our homeschool group's Moms' Nite Out tonight. We all just sat at dinner in awe of the different faces. I don't think non-homeschoolers realize how taxing homeschooling can be. It's one thing to be a stay-at-home mom to babies and toddlers (NOT an easy job), but it's a whole other ballgame to have a houseful of prepubescents and adolescents day in and day out. This would be why I'm a proud partaker of Prozac.

3) Baseball has started up for our family. Which means I'm back to driving the taxi service. Tonight the boys went to a pitching clinic that lasted 3.5 hours. Three.and.a.half.hours. On a school night. That's nothing but crazy. But, of course, we'll go back for the next 7 weeks. Because we appreciate torture. (and by the way...yet another reason I'm so thankful we homeschool.)

4) I'm wasting monumental amounts of time planting and harvesting crops on Smurfville. Yes. Smurfs. If you are thinking Farmville, it's not. It's way cooler. Because it's Smurfs. And Smurfs make me happy.

5) I'm watching American Idol even though I said I wouldn't. I didn't think I could handle Steven Tyler and JLo. But I'm thoroughly and utterly smitten. I don't even miss Simon. Gasp.

6) I can finally tell you that the husband has been gone for the past 3 weeks, because I don't like to advertise when I'm bachlorette-ing it. But I can tell you that these 3 weeks have been uber-long. With the snow and the temperatures being so so cold, we've been stuck in the house way too much. Cabin fever is the understatement of the century. Let's just say, it was a good thing that the husband came home, because the boys and I were coming close to losing our religion.

7) I took my Christmas tree down. 25 days AFTER Christmas. Yes, I'm that person.

I could keep the list going, but, frankly, I'm getting carpal tunnel in my thumbs from phone-blogging.

Oh. And it's time to harvest my carrots. :)

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone



Y'all, I'm spent.

I'm running on fumes now, and I'm having a hard time finding the time and energy and even the want-to to refill the tank.  When it gets like this, it is easier to just retreat and hide.  In my bed.  On the couch.  Anywhere it is dark and quiet.  Away from phones ringing.  And children talking. 

Today I've hid.

And I'm fighting the urge to not hide tomorrow.  And the next day.  And the day after that.


I'm so glad that even in the rough days of weepiness and exhaustion, there are some giggle-worthy moments.  Like this pajama clad Super Spy who has taken over my home....

Definitely graduation slide show worthy.....



I'm airing a smidge on the swirly side tonight.

I was slapped in the face tonight with the fact that I'm very very blessed.  Yet at the same time punched in the gut with the knowledge that I've been failing. 

I have a gorgeous family that other people brag on.  I'm still stumped at times when people brag on the behavior of my hellions or compliment their manners, but I'm so incredibly humbled.  Yet so extremely proud.  All in the same exhale.

I have beautiful friends that love me in spite of myself.  My besties have chosen to look past the garbage that floods these flesh and bones and have decided that, for whatever reason, I'm worth their time and energy.  And I'm mortified that I've been taking them for granted.  Not anymore.  I'm resolving to make sure that they know that they are loved and appreciated and needed.  Love you, friendies.

I have a church family that is like none I've ever experienced before in my life.  I just came tonight from a gathering of believers that was honest and humble and authentic.  People laughed and cried and were mellow.  And then we loved on eachother.  It was the church of Acts.  In 2011.  And I'm in awe that the Lord saw fit to allow me to be a part of such wholeness. 

I attended a meeting today that kicked off a very very busy upcoming season of tournament baseball for Sawyer.  To people outside of the baseball world, tournament ball and Little League is like Neptune.  A world that is so far from anything understandable in the normal realm, that it is hard to even associate with.  I know because I used to be that person.  But tournament baseball can easily consume a family.  It can consume every inch of time, money, energy, and effort that you allow it to, and it can very easily become an idol.  My prayer for this season is that we can maintain healthy balance.  It is very tempting for Kirk and me (I'm equally at fault here...) to allow baseball to control and dictate our lives.  Balance.  Healthy balance.  It's a necessity.

I'm still reeling with the fight that our dear sister, Joanne Heim, is punching her way through.  Right now things are not looking good.  She's taken a turn for the worse, and a miracle is her only hope.  (Her husband Toben's updates on her blog are the most accurate information on her status...)  It is impossible not to reflect on life as I know it right now and go through "what ifs" and "what would happens."  PERSPECTIVE has become the mantra for this week, but I'm also struggling with how to pray.  I know all the churchy Sunday School answers about how God's will is perfect, but right now I really just want Him to heal Joanne.  It would be so much easier if we could just boss God around....

I was made painfully aware tonight that I haven't been doing enough to further God's Kingdom.  I've been pretty complacent about my position in Kingdom work, because it is easy to claim that raising up my boys as Godly men is enough right now.  Not that raising my boys to be Godly men isn't important...it is MORE than important.  It is my main and primary goal and focus.  But, I haven't been making myself available to the unchurched.  To the hurting.  To the broken.  I haven't been being who we were called to be.  I've stayed comfortable in my South Arkansas Bible Belt bubble.  But it's time to venture out.  And bring my boys with me.  It's definitely time....

And in other ridiculous swirly news, I'm way behind on my DVR, but I have read 3 books in the past 2 days. 

I've also learned to make a fire in my fireplace.

Swirly, indeed. 

There's a lot that's been whirling around the ole' gray matter, and though I'm still trying to make sense of it all, I think I've come to a conclusion...

Do less.
Be more.
Focus on Him.

And the rest all falls into place....



Hoarder Schmoarder PEZuhroarder

My dad is a hoarder collector.  A self-proclaimed one, I might add. 
Kirk's parents are hoarders collectors.  Self-proclaimed, as well.

So it's really no wonder that we all come by it honestly. 

My sister is a hoarder collector, though she argues it's "not the same" as Jim-Dad's.  I'm a hoarder collector.  I don't really mind getting rid of stuff, but I despise the process it requires.  Organizing closets and going through this and that equals Texas-size headache to me, so I'd just rather not do it...thus hoards of stuff collections occur.  Kirk's a hoarder collector.  His reasoning is that you never know when you might need something or other.  And then there are the children.  All hoarders collectors.

But, perhaps the biggest hoarder collector we have in the family is Keaton.  The kid has a collection of collections.  He keeps papers and paperclips and bottle caps and the teensy syrup bottles from Cracker Barrel that come with his pancakes.  He has shells and rocks and leaves and pen caps and spiral notebooks and empty bullet casings and parts and pieces of anything and everything that he deems interesting enough to keep. 

As a result, when Keaton decides he's going to start a new collection, my reaction is usually, "Uh-huh, that's cool..." because the kid usually doesn't stick with something long before he's off to the next most interesting thing in the world. 

So it was when he decided he was going to start a Pez Dispenser collection. 

I smiled and nodded and said, "Uh-huh, that's cool..." and went on about my business.  I had no idea what would transpire over the next year.

It all started last February-ish.  The Pez Dispenser collection.  It started with a couple of Pez Dispensers he picked up at WalMart just because he thought they looked cool, and he had a couple of dollars burning a hole in his pocket.

Then he decided to gOOgle Pez Dispensers.

Which led to his eBay addiction discovery.

Long story short, since last February, Keaton's collection has grown to 195 dispensers (I know, because we count them often *wink*).  Some have been bought with piggy bank quarters, some have been worked for, some have been eBay finds, and a lot of them have been gifts. 

And so far, he's still loving the collection.  And as far as his dad and I are concerned, he's going to KEEP ON loving that collection.  Because we know how much has been invested in those crazy plastic candy machines.

Today, Keaton decided to get out his big bin of dispensers and ORGANIZE them, one of his most favorite activities.  And since I didn't have anything going, I decided to spend the day with him.  I let him tell me all about his favorite ones.  About the worth of this one and that one.  I watched him dust all of them and carefully place them away in their special boxes and bins with an organizational strategy that only a ten year old could come up with.  I even helped him make a spreadsheet that wasn't written in Childese, so that we could start keeping track of what he has and what he doesn't. 

It was fun.
But my favorite part was seeing him so excited about these things that he cherishes so dearly.

See the box of candy?  Yep..he doesn't eat it.  He hoards collects it, too....

Oh, how that boy makes me smile....

All for the love of Pez.... 



I heard on the news that 49 of 50 states have snow.  Florida is the only one wallflowering at our little white coat party.  Even Hawaii is shaking her snow thang. 

Poor Florida.

Or not.

Because, frankly, I'd be just fine if Arkansas would rest her legs and sidle up alongside Florida for a year or three. 

I consider it no small answer to prayer that the offspring have chosen to neglect the snow for the past two days, because I have had just about had enough of the slush and slop all up in my house.  And because of their hiatus, I've taken on a much better attitude regarding Old Jack Frost, mainly because I'm enjoying him from inside my warm house.  And because my floor isn't a constant mass of swirling snow puddle juice.

Considering that 49 out of 50 of you have also been slushing through the snow as of late, I'm almost positive that you have almost had your fill of the endless pictures of snowmen, snow forts, and snowball fights taking over everyone's neighborhoods.  But, too bad....you clicked over here, therefore, you must endure my barrage of family photos in the snow.  That is, unless you just X out of here, of course, which is always a possibility.  (Which is why I stealthily named this post "Watermelons" so that you wouldn't just assume right away that I was going to show snow pictures like everyone else in the Lower 48 Minus Florida Plus Hawaii Plus Alaska....Divided By Mongolia and Multiplied by Norway just for kicks.)

Getting on with it.....


Holy Holding Marshmallow, Batman, that snowball is as big as his head!  (As was the cry fest that ensued after he chunked it at his BIG brother's head.)
This was taken just before he unleashed that huge snowball that he's holding in hand...while I'm saying, "No! I have my camera!" And then he did it anyway.  Hence the smirky grin.
Back Deck Snow Angels! 
(This is just as the snow was starting...we had no idea that fifty-eleven more inches would fall after that...)
I'll take Bundled Up Deliciousness for $1000, Alex.

Couldn't you just eat those freckles with a spoon?  Get in line.  I'm first.

The husband and the oldest rascal right before they tore up my yard during a mad fit of donut doin's.

Um...yes.  That would be them.  And this is the only picture I have of it, because I had to excuse myself into the house because I was going to have a panic attack about how fast he was driving that thing with my baby inside.
Look close...you can see the mismatched socks on the hands!  I have FINALLY discovered what all the lone socks are for that just live on top of my dryer. 

Alright, alright.  I'll stop. 

I guess all in all the snow wasn't that bad.  It was definitely gorgeous and gave us a great excuse to hunker down for a few days and do a whole lot of nothing.  But I will tell you that my perspective on snow has totally changed since I'm not teaching outside the home anymore.  I use to live for the morning news crawl that would announce a snow day for our school.  I would beg the weatherman to tell me that the temperature wasn't going to get high enough to melt the snow and ice off anytime soon. 

Not so much anymore.

Because homeschoolers don't get snow days.

Sheesh.  Poor kids.  Wonder who their teacher is?  Someone should have a talk with her.



If You're Going to Skim...Go Straight to My Fourth Point

I was gracefully reminded by my father today that I had not only fallen off the blog wagon, but was the bearer of wheel tracks right 'cross the face.  Hmmm....'tis true. 

But, as always, good excuses abound. 

Firstly, I've been stuck in a house with 3 people whose ages don't even come close to my own age if added up together.  Therefore, the last thing on my mind has been blogging, because I've just been trying to refrain from curling up in the corner and poking hot needles in my eyes.  Keep in full mind, that I love the children dearly and profusely, but only being exposed to those 3 same faces for days on end is enough to make anyone start sucking their thumb and calling for their mama. 

Snowmeggedon struck SouthWest Arkansas this past weekend, and though some of you Northerners would scoff at our few and mighty inches, it was enough to send us Suthenuhs raiding the bread aisle at Walmart and confining ourselves to our homesteads.  We know sweat.  We don't know about this snow stuff.  (Case in point:  After thoroughly soaking through our first pairs of measly thin knit mittens and gloves while playing in the snow, I resorted to coating the boys' hands in socks.  Yes, socks.  Because we usually don't have a need for those thick thinsulate gloves whilst we're swatting mosquitoes.)   

On to my second excuse.  We lost our power during Snowmeggedon.  Now, granted, it was only out for 8 hours, but, I'm still recovering from the frozeness that overtook my toes during that time.  Plus, I had to trek to my van in the snow uphill both ways and barefoot to charge my phone, and that just made me grumpy.  And my grumpiness about the whole ordeal has unfortunately persisted....

Thirdly, I don't appreciate the constant bundling/unbundling of snow clothes.  Oh, to just have snow suits and snow boots...easy on, easy off.  (Listen to me assuming those are easy on/easy off...those ski getups could be like Fort Knox to get in and out of, but for my rambling purposes, I'm going to pretend they go on smooth as butter.)  But, since our warmest clothes consist of fleecey pajama bottoms and an assortment of camouflage parts and pieces, it was a little ridiculous all the layering and tucking that had to be done just to send the boys out for a romp in the snow.  And then they'd want to come in because the socks on their hands were sopping wet, and they needed a new pair.  I was popping Tylenol by the handful after all of that....

Fourth, and most importantly of all, I have been totally and thoroughly sobered by the news of a dear fellow blogger that has suffered majorly at the hands of an imperfect human body this week.  Joanne Heim, some know her better as The Simple Wife, had a stroke yesterday.  And now she is lying in a hospital bed in very critical condition.  Her 9 year old daughter found her at home, and in the blink of an eye, the lives of that entire family have been turned drastically upside down.  Everything that they knew was changed in an instant.

Joanne is only 38.  Thirty-eight.  And everything about the happenings have left me in a strange swirl of emotions.  I don't know Joanne personally, but I know people who do.  Their pain must be so much more deep than mine, yet I find myself grieving for her and her family.  Joanne is a blog friend of mine, and one that always had such uplifting and encouraging words for me the times I exchanged words with her.  She loves Jesus with every fiber of her being, and she is such an amazing advocate for marriage, family, and spreading the Word.  Joanne's husband, Toben, has been updating her blog here, and you can also follow @tobenheim on Twitter for updates on her progress.

Please pray for Joanne.  Please pray for her daughters, Audrey and Emma.  Please pray for Toben.  And the host of family and friends that are aching for her.  I know with all of my heart that Joanne would want this situation to glorify Jesus, and she would plead with the Father for whatever outcome gained that result.  I am praying for healing, but I also find myself beseeching the Lord for His good and perfect will to be done. 

(I'm not posting pictures today for my Photo Project.  Frankly, I don't have the energy to fight my internet service and Blogger to wait on the upload.  Perhaps tomorrow......)


'Tis Truly a Puzzle....

Don't let the eldest offspring's face fool you.  He actually was having a fantastic time.

The husband left us for a business trip, and in a momentary lapse in sanity, I grabbed a big ole jigsaw puzzle at the store and decided that it would give the boys and me a fun break from the mind numbing loop of Nickelodeon and Disney Channel shows that I have been being forced to watch time of togetherness. 

I was right.

It was a lot of fun.

And there were no tears.  Until today, when the boys decided that they were going to break the puzzle that we slaved over worked so harmoniously on last night and build it again today.  Since I have the attention span of a barn swallow, I was out of the rebuild, and therefore provided an entrance for World war III to ensue, because apparently I'm the only one in the family that doesn't lose their shorts over turning the pieces over and sorting out the sides and corners. 

I actually haven't worked a puzzle in years.  Probably the last jigsaw puzzles I worked were during the holidays at my parents' old house in Kentucky when Jim-Dad resorted to puzzling at the kitchen bar to escape the madness of the entire family in their very small living room.  My sister, Mich, and I would join him for the very same reasons.

My favorite memories of jigsaw puzzles, however, dive way back deep into the memory bank. 

Our family was living in Bangladesh, serving as missionaries, and I couldn't have been older than 6 or 7 years years old.  Even though most of the missionaries were stationed throughout the country in towns and villages, our mission had a central location in Dhaka (the capital city).  It was a large, several story brick building, that we called "The Guest House."  The Guest House was where all the missionaries stayed when they came into Dhaka, and was also a place where friends of the mission or other traveling missionaries from other countries could stay.  As I said, most missionaries, like my own family, were stationed out in the country, but there was one missionary family who lived in an apartment at The Guest House who oversaw its running and also handled the business of the mission. 

At the time that we were there, Uncle Jim and Aunt Bettye lived in The Guest House.  And I loved them so very much.  They were quite a bit older than my parents and filled somewhat of a grandparent role for me overseas, even though they did have a daughter that was just a few years older than me.  Aunt Bettye was always fun to hang around, but the one I always loved to see was Uncle Jim.

Nine times out of ten that we would show up at The Guest House, Uncle Jim would have a card table set up in their living room with a big huge jigsaw puzzle spread out on it.  There was a floor lamp that he'd drag over to the table to give more light, and the cardboard puzzle box would always be perched on the side of the table.

Uncle Jim would be sitting in a chair at the table working away, and there was always an empty chair, too.  I never ever saw anyone else sitting in that chair, and I like to think he was saving it for me.  Because when I'd bounce my pig-tailed tow-headed self in their front door, Uncle Jim would wave me over with one hand and say, "Sit yourself down here and help me.  I can't find this piece..."  and he'd point to an empty spot, and so it would go.  Every single time.  Exact same words.  "Sit yourself down here..."

I'd stay down there for what seemed like hours working on those puzzles with Uncle Jim, until Aunt Bettye would shoo me back upstairs to The Guest House for dinner or bedtime. 

To this day, I can't work a jigsaw puzzle without thinking of Uncle Jim and his card table. 

Such sweet memories.

This is Uncle Jim and I a couple of years ago at our Bangladesh Missionary Reunion.  He still looks exactly the same as I remember him back in the day.
This is Aunt Bettye and my sister, Mich, at the same reunion.

It's a PUZZLE the memories that stick out most in our child minds.  Pun totally intended. *wink&smile*


Kindle Me Sweetly...

I don't know whom at Blogger is conspiring against me, but their cute is wearing off. This is the 2nd day that they are pulling the rug out from under my cleverly composed posts, and I'm beginning to not use my pretty words when referencing it. So I've resorted to posting from my phone. Take that, Blogger. You can't stop this girl.

Aside from attempting to work out a compromise with my blog host, I've done hardly anything today. I did get lesson plans accomplished for the next two weeks, which feels really good, but, other than that, I've done this:

Project Photo #6


I've been perched in my big ole' chair with my snuggly new Razorback Snuggie (no diamonds for me...the husband knew the way to my heart this Christmas was through a good deal of Hog-emblazoned fleeced yardage!) and have had my nose stuck in OUR new Kindle. (I say "our" because, technically, I bought it for the husband for Christmas. But who are we kidding here? I had definite ulterior motives in play...).

What? You noticed that the page showing says "Prologue"?

Yah, that's because I've already read one book today and that picture was taken when I was just starting another.

I'm telling you....it's been a good day. 

- Posted using BlogPress from, Gertrude, my iPhone


How UnSweet It Was...


If you were habitating under a rock last night, or just could care less about the amazingness of the SEC, then you might not have heard about the tragedy that manifested itself in the form of a teency little thing that we Arkansans were just a smidge worked up about.

Here's the Cliff's Notes:  Arkansas totally dropped the ball. 


And though no one can accuse of us of not bringing an interesting game to the table (and some mighty interesting costuming on the part of our fans...), we gave the game away to Ohio.

We would have given them the ball, too, had we been able to hold onto it.

But enough about football.

Because it is only taking me to my ugly place today.


What's not ugly is all the glorious earth-toned food I consumed last night at our little Sugar Bowl soiree. 

I love me some earth-tones.

Cheese.  Chips.  Potatoes.  Fried poultry.  Chocolate. 

Not a green thing in sight except for the spinach dip that was heavily infused with calories, so it wasn't shunned from the spread.

I might have filled my plate once or four times, but who's counting.

In other, yet somewhat related news, the husband renewed my gym membership yesterday.

And just like that...I'm back to the ugly place.




.....is malfunctioning today.  Blogger won't let me upload my picture, but I pinky promise that I took it!


Hey, Amber.... How 'Bout Some Sugar?

Hey, Amber, what have you done today?

  • Well, for starters, I swept my floor.  But you can't tell, so don't come over until I sweep again.  Then I tried to start a fire in my fireplace, but failed miserably at that.  I have taken comfort in the fact, though, that the husband, too, has had trouble getting the fires to start lately, as evidenced by the BLOWTORCH sitting comfortably next to the fireplace.  We know how to get things done around here.
So that's it, Amber?  Sweeping and fire-making failure?
  • Actually, no.  I worked profoundly hard at cleaning up the Christmas combustion that has taken over my house, but it doesn't look like I've done anything at all.  I'm wondering if maybe I should have just taken the morning off and done absolutely nothing anyway, since that is what it looks like.
  • This afternoon, the boys and I met a couple of besties at the park for a Bike and Scooter Fest.  One of the problems with living in the country is an abundance of gravel and an inadequacy of concrete.  And our one attempt at the scooter/gravel combo ended in depletion of my band-aide supply.  While the boys sweat and pedaled away, Jen and I devoured a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos and gossipped....our own favored version of exercise.
Hey, Amber, did you take a picture?
  • Why, yes, I did.  Because I'm still hanging in there with my New Year's goal.
Project Photo #4

Aw, that's cute. And, look! All the boys are wearing Razorback shirts?  Fun coincidence, huh?
  • Oh, no, no coincidence at all, Dear Reader.  Our blood runs swine red around these parts, and we have been paying homage to our Almighty Razorbacks all.day.long. 
Hey, Amber, what makes today special for the Razorbacks?
  • Gasp.  I'm going to try not and get all kinds of offended up in here, and try to remember that some of y'all aren't from these parts.  Pull up a chair, honey, and let me enlighten you.....   TODAY IS SUGAR BOWL DAY!!! 
Sounds exciting.  I guess you're excited, huh?
  • We're VERY excited.  Like VERY excited.  Because the Sugar Bowl means good times with football, food, and friends!  Three of my favorite things!  In fact, we're leaving in a bit for a Woo Pig Sooie good time!  The only thing better would be sitting my happy in New Orleans front and center, but since that ain't happening, I'm going to gorge myself on all things dippy and cheesy and melty and sugary. 
  • I also have found my brain is running through an endless loop of Def Leppard"s "Pour Some Sugar On Me" for the past two days, which you are now thanking me for because you know that you are singing it right now....  You're welcome. 
Well, have a great time at the party, Amber, and I guess I should say, "Go Hogs!"
  • Aw.  You're sweet.  Thanks!  And I'm so proud of you for stepping out with the Piggy Love.


If You Look Cute, They Will Come....


Monsieur Dimples and our new friend.  Yet another dog that has decided that we look like a bushel of groovy peeps, but will probably run away or "disappear" after sucking our hearts of our love and affection.  Because apparently we were short-sheeted our pet*maintanence*gene. 
Even still...we've named this one BERNARD. 
Now placing bets on how long Bernie will stick around.....

Do I hear a "Gone by morning?"  Anyone? 


Rockin' the Resolutions

January 2nd and my resolution goal is already shot.  The one about posting a picture every day.

Technically, I kept my goal of taking a picture today, but since I'm just getting home from the longest.day.evuh., I just grabbed the nearest computer I could find to get this post up, and it just so happened to be the husband's.  And he doesn't take kindly to me uploading all my girly mess all up in his man space....

So for today...no picture posted.  But I DID TAKE ONE!

So use your imagination:

The picture that I took was of the TaterTooter snoozing away in the van.  I took the picture while driving around a hugacious curve with my body torqued around everywhichaway trying to capture his image with my iphone camera while he was sitting in the seat d.i.r.e.c.t.l.y. behind me...but he was just so darn cute sleeping, that I couldn't not take it.  Insert parental safety speeches here.  While you're at it, tell me not to text and drive, because, in the interest of full disclosure, I did that, too....

I was driving home today with the rascals who had docked with the mother ship for the past few days.  The husband and I had left them with my parents for a few moments of much needed breathing room grandparent bonding. 

A few days sans kids is always such a refreshing break, except for that whole gotta-pick-'em-up thing.  Let me clarify...it's not that I didn't want to pick 'em up, because I really do like my children on some occasions. It's that I didn't want to do the mind-numbing drive to go and get 'em. 

I would rather eat my shoe than drive.

So today was driving day.  And now we are all finally home snug and exhausted and glad to be breathing our own air.

So here's to Home.  And Family. 
And already breaking New Year's Resolutions on DAY TWO.

Rock on.


2011: Hit Me With Your Best Shot

New Years.

I've rang in 33 of these bad boys in my lifetime, and although I get the stink eye from folks when I talk about how old I feel, I think being able to say that I really don't know where time has gone constitutes me as being old enough to call myself old.  (And before any of you nice people hurl whips and daggers in my direction, no, I'm not saying anything or implying anything about your own age and youth deprivation.  Y'all are very young.  It's me who's old.)

2010 was a wild ride of a year.  I traveled places that I'd never been before.  I almost died.  I was scared out of my mind, and more excited than I've ever been.  I gained 20 pounds, lost it, then gained it back again.  I hired a personal trainer, went to boot camp, and then resorted to just sticking out my tongue at the gym as I slurped ice cream cones at the coldstone place across the street...all within 3 months.  I watched lots of movies that haunted my thoughts for months on end, and watched lots that I will never remember again.  I watched one of my sons come within a baseball bat's length of being part of a State Championship Little League team.  And I spent more hours at football fields and baseball fields cheering on all three of my rascals than I did at home.  We finished up our first year of homeschooling and started our second, and I'm still floundering in a sea of What-Have-I-Done about it.  I witnessed Broadway magic with my bestie when we went and saw WICKED.  And I was exposed to true friendship by three of the most amazing women I've ever met in my life (wink.wink.and.another.wink...you know who you are).

And I could go on and on.

But 2010 is over.

Calendars have been flipped to 2011, and clean slates are laid before us.  But I don't know if I want a clean slate.  2010 was pretty great....and 2011 has huge shoes to fill.

But I suppose it's up the challenge.

I don't like resolutions for the New Year, because I have commitment issues, and I realize that I'm just setting myself up for failure...


I do have a few goals.

  • I want to draw closer to my Jesus, so that if 2011 happens to thrill my socks off, I know exactly who to praise for it.  But even more than that, I want to draw closer to the One who made me, so that if 2011 holds tragedy and heartbreak or just days that stink like socks....I will recognize the One who will carry me through.
  • I want to spend time building relationships that matter.  That have faces.  That will go the distance.  I want to leave soured laundry in the washing machine and sit with a friend to drink coffee instead.  I want to put down my cell phone's texting plan and call someone.  I want to turn the tv off and listen to my children talk about nothing and everything all at the same time.
  • I want to dive into the Word.  Not to finish reading it, but to glean life's blood from it.
  • I want to journal more.  Because in my journaling, I find recollection and memories and therapy.
I also have a goal for this World O'Blog of which I breathe its air from time to time.  And it's going to help me meet my journaling goal, too.  A two birds with one stone kinda deal.... 

My goal is this:
  • Take a picture every day.  Maybe 2.  Or 6.  Or 348.  But at least one.  And cell phone cameras are totally legit.  I know this because I made the rules.
  • Then I'm going to post AT LEAST that picture everyday.  Hopefully, my writing mojo will flood back to me in this year of newness, but if not, at least there will be something for me to attach my thoughts and reactions and memories to.
  • Just one picture.
  • I can totally rock that.
And if I fall off the wagon....

Well, then my January 1st post of 2012 will tell you about how 2011 was the year that I could not even keep one measly goal of snapping one measly picture a day.

We shall see.
We shall see.

Happy New Year, friends.  May God rain down so much pureness in joy onto your 2011.


It would only be fair to start this year off right.  And wouldn't you know it, I'm going to start it off as a big ole' cheater.  Because my picture for today wasn't even taken today.  It was actually taken about 4 days ago, but I'm so impressed that we could get all 5 of us gene-sharers to look at the camera at the same time, that it would be simply criminal to not post it....


December 29, 2010