Turning the Grinchy Upside Down

We're special.

'Twould be why Santa comes to visit us early. 

And the fact that Santa and I have an understanding.  Because we are NEVER.I.REPEAT.NEVER. around our own tree for Christmas morning, Santa comes and visits us early.  And, in turn, we help him out by giving him one less house to stop at Christmas Eve. 

It works for us.  And the children buy it. 

But it breaks me out in cold sweats.

Because I have one less week on the calendar to shop and wrap and tinsel and bake and craft and.and.and.

Deep breaths. Paper bag, please.

And honestly this year has been very hard for me to find my groove.  My family was beginning to call me Grinchy, and I was beginning to answer.

I went through some periods of serious sadness that left me not wanting to do anything that regarded Christmas and all its parts and pieces.  My heart just wasn't into it, and I was watching the days on the calendar tick away and could really care less.

But I made up my mind at the beginning of this week to just get up and get it together.  My children deserved a Christmas full of all the fun Christmas things.

So...

We are listening to Christmas music while we tackle fractions.  Doesn't do much for the focusing issues some of us have, but you just can't be grouchy about fractions and handwriting while listening to "The First Noel" and "Santa, Baby."  You just can't.

Presents are scattered under the tree.  Some wrapped by little hands. 

And some not.

Our Christmas tree is sparkly.

And Homer Simpson is still hanging next to Baby Jesus. 

Our handmade Nativity is out and has been rearranged many many a time. 

The boys' Christmas work is hanging up by the back door....not exactly Southern Living material, but I love it.

There are lots of mismatched but comfy clothes which scream of lazy cozy days at home.

And though it may have taken me awhile to get into the Christmas spirit, the boys are all about some Christmas fun.

We've been invaded by reindeer.

And Santas that look as though they are giving birth for Christmas.

And jolly elves who apparently listen to gangsta rap.

How could anyone be grinchy when you have this going on in your house?!

Thinking that should have been our Christmas card picture for the year.

Meeting In Real Life Is Oh So Sweet

We pulled up to this play place thing that was supposed to be the perfect place for kids to play and moms to chat. 

The place was closed, but the door to her Suburban wasn't.

And I knew it was her vehicle before Tiffani even told me.  Because this long ole blue jeaned leg with a stiletto heeled black boot was just a'swinging outside the door.

Yep.  It was Michele.  Mama In High Heels herself.

I suppose it would have been slightly scandalous for the High Heeled Diva to show up to her first bloggy MIRL wearing flats or sneakers.

She was gorgeous.  And precious.  And one of the kindest, most sincere people I have ever met.

Since the play place thing was closed, we headed to the city park.  All of our kids ran around and played like they had known eachother all of their lives, and Michele, Tiff, and I sat and chatted.  Like old friends.

We giggled.  And grinned.  And talked ourselves until we were blue in the face.  Oh. Wait.  That was the frigid cold that we were enduring for the sake of the meeting. 

But it was totally worth it.

Because even though I felt as though I knew Michele and all of her high-heeled glory, there is nothing like getting to hug the necks of the people that we come to know through the screens of our computers.

(Michele wrote about our meeting here.)

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I was wearing sweats for goodness sake.

And when she came to Tiffani's door, I swear I was staring into the face of America's Next Top Model. 

Hello, Tall.  Meet Short.

Hello, Gorgeous.  Meet Frumpy.

Miss Elizabeth has been a great bloggy buddy for some time now.  Tiff introduced us awhile back, and I'm so glad that she did.  Elizabeth is so funny and clever and ridiculously witty.

And she so blessed me by coming over to meet me before I had to head back for home.

She so graciously endured the mess that looked as though Hobby Lobby had vomited on Tiff's kitchen table, and so kindly ignored my greasy hair and lack of mascara. 

What a gal.  What a gal.  And did I mention that she is gorgeous?

Elizabeth wrote about our meeting here.

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I love meeting people's mamas.  Especially mamas of people that I'm close to.  I love to see if mannerisms match.  And if they look alike.  And just meeting the women that birthed the people I love.

Lucky me.  I got to meet Tiff's mama, Deb. Uh..I mean, Mimi.

And she was precious.  And hilarious.  And made me giggle when she talked about her "people."  And cracked.me.up. when she and Tiff frustrated eachother. 

It felt like home.

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I've never had a little sister. 

So, I've decided that I'm just adopting Tiffani's.

Taylor (a.k.a. Tay Tay) is my self-proclaimed blog lurker stalker.  And because I think she's so darn cute, I'm going to allow her to keep her title.

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A huge "Thank You" to all these phenomenal ladies for taking time out of their busy schedules just to come and meet lil' ole' me. 

You all are a huge blessing!!!

Georgia's On My Mind

The drive is 11 hours. 11 long hours. Perhaps the longest 11 hours of my life.

The drive to Georgia was full of anxious anticipations. The good kind of anticipation. Not the bad kind, but the good kind of flutterbys in the stomach. You know, constantly fidgeting and fiddling, and a whole lot of clock-watching.

The drive back to Arkansas, however, was full of moments of tears, spurts of sobs, and long moments of quiet reflection on a precious few days with a friend that is no longer a friend. She’s family.

I wondered how exactly I would be able to find words to describe an experience that allowed my cup to not only fill up, but run over. I went through periods of deciding to stick to the facts. Just run down the trip in typical Rascal Raising travel-log style. But it didn’t seem enough. I debated just not blogging about it at all; keeping my memories safe in me, and at the same time sparing all of you the details and schmooze of a weekend that is really very hard to verbalize. But just as precious moments in the past that I swore I would never forget have started to lose their details in the recesses of my mind, I know that realistically these few December days in Georgia will eventually haze into a blur….not losing significance, but losing the little details.

I’ll be fair to you. I’m going to warn you that the rest of these words in this post are for me and Tiffani. Though I do tend to write for an audience on most days, this day is going to be for us. If you don’t want to read any further and just want to skim through the pictures, I give you full permission. 

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I always knew that I would love Tiffani. Since the very first time I read one of her comments on another friend's blog, she and I had so much in common that it was almost absurd.  There has not been a day since the beginning of this summer that has gone by without some kind of contact. We mostly chat online for hours on end ever day, but when that doesn’t work, we text. Or tweet. Or email. Or call. So I knew meeting the skin that went with the heart that had just become a part of my daily life would be beyond wonderful. I knew we’d laugh. I knew we’d talk for hours about nothing and everything all at the same time. I knew we would still finish eachother’s sentences. The only thing that I was hating about our meeting was that I knew after our meeting face-to-face, our computer way of doing things wasn’t going to be enough.

I have to admit I was anxious about the kids and the husbands meeting and hanging together for such a long period of time…all going in blind. Tiffani and I both expected the husbands to be a bit on guard just because though we assured them that we KNEW eachother, they were still committing their families over to relative “strangers” for several days on end. And you just never know about kids. Some kids mesh and some just don’t. And though we had discussed at length how we thought the kids would get along swimmingly, you really just never know.

To say it far exceeded expectations would be the understatement of the century.

The husbands gelled like Magellan. Sharing long talks on all things manly over M&Ms; exchanging knowing glances of “these crazy girls;” and stepping way beyond the bounds of being polite for the pure sake of humoring the wives with eachother.

I have never seen all of my children so happy all at the same time. If there was anyone made to be friends with my children it is Connor and Julia. If I tell you that we did not hear ONE squabble in the 4 nights and 3 days we were together, you wouldn’t believe me. But it’s true. There was skunk hunting and craftiness and lego love and slumber parties and Nerf gun battles and game playing. They dressed up, pretended to be Santa, and giggled at the same jokes.  Even Julia, being the only girl, didn’t seem too fed up with all the testosterone. She and Tate played so incredibly well together and all but sealed up the deal that an arranged marriage is definitely in their future. And when we left yesterday, all 5 kids begged us not to. And there were tears. And confessions of best friendships. And true mourning of the separation.

Tiff and I already knew how special and unique our friendship was, but when you throw in comfort and ease on e.v.e.r.y. dynamic of the family….it just makes it so preciously sweet.

We all fell into fast step with eachother. We do things the same way, so it was incredibly easy to just make myself at home. We left dishes in the sink and cuddled up to watch tv. We fed the kids mac-n-cheese and snuggled up for slumber parties in the bed with that precious puppy, sweetie-pie Sugar. We drank massive amounts of coffee and forgot to bathe our children and ate cookies for lunch. We pulled our hair back in greasy masses and ignored dirty laundry all over the floor and together bemoaned the angst of 5 year olds who can't tie their own shoes. And even though I know it sounds hokey and cliche, it felt like home.
In addition to huge amounts of jammie time and unkempt hair, we did get out quite a bit, too.

Adam and Tiff took our family to the world famous Varsity.  Oh.Dear.Me.  Delicious doesn't even do it justice.

Then we headed down to Centennial Olympic Park to look at all the Christmas lights.  And were so surprised when we got there!  The big water fountain that is shaped like the Olympic rings was gettin' after it with a music show.  It was spectacular.  The kids were mesmerized by it all.  It was truly breathtaking.

I also was taken to the infamous Sock Shoppe.  And though I'd heard of all of its sockaliscious glory and heard of the heaven which exudes cheap undies....I had NO.IDEA.

(Tate was the resident photographer of the Sock Shoppe venture...he kept bugging everyone for pictures instead of letting us shop.  Silly boy.)

And I ate grits.  True Southern 'Jawjun grits.  Only because I promised Tiff I would.  And I have to say...they weren't terrible.  I did clean my bowl though.

And we got our craft on.  We had both been wanting to make some type of Advent Calendar for our families, and we decided on Muffin Tin Calendars.  We totally gave up on being able to use our calendars the first few days of December, just so that we could make ours together.  And I'm SO very very glad we did.  We spent that whole day in jammies, singing along to all kinds of music, and crafting the day and night away.

And the final products:

Cute, huh?

And then it was time to say goodbye.  And it might have been the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.  Because it is not fair that someone that is so deeply intertwined in my heart has to be 11 hours or a $300 plane ticket away.  If anyone understands how unconventional our relationship is, it is Tiff and I.  We get that it is weird to meet on the internet.  To share things with people that you've never met.  To commit your family over to strangers just on knowledge of what lives in the computer.  But even though Tiff and I can't verbalize what our relationship is or means...we get it.  We get eachother.  And there are no words available to express the joy that my heart felt those few couple of days.  There were times that she and I would just sit and stare at eachother...hard to believe that it was really real. 

I feel so incredibly blessed that my Jesus peeked inside my heart and chose to give me the desires that are there.  Tiffani's family was more amazing than I could ever have imagined, and our experiences together were priceless.  And completely irreplaceable.

So incredibly blessed.

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My Dearest Tiffani, Adam, Connor, and Julia:

Thank you so much for not only inviting us into your home but into your lives and hearts. I feel like a broken record, but I still cannot believe how well our families just picked up and took off with eachother.  It was like we had been lifelong skin friends, and it was truly beautiful.  Words don't exist to explain it, so I'm going to stop trying.  We all have our time together tucked safely away in our hearts and minds, and it will be safe there.  I'm so glad that God blessed us with the time together that we had, and I am more than anxiously awaiting our next reunion.  We miss you an unbearable amount.

Always My Love,

Amby

Precious Georgian Seconds

I’ve tried.

Like 14 times, I’ve tried. And I just can’t do it.

Because, right now, pictures of what I ate and of the husband not smiling aren’t really what I’m concerned about.

I can’t travel-log because I’m too busy trying to soak up every second.

I will not even attempt to explain the surreal nature of this experience. To finally be breathing the same air and drinking coffee from the same coffeepot of a person that has become family is really indescribable.

So I won’t even try any longer.

Just know that we made it to Georgia in one piece.  And that since the second I bolted out of my van door in Tiffani's driveway Saturday night, we've been relishing every second. We’re pinching ourselves to make sure each other are real. And I’m afraid to go to sleep tonight because I’m afraid this is all a dream.

Excited doesn’t do it justice.

I’ll give the blow by blow later….because I’ll want to….but for now, just knowing that Tiff and I are loving on all of these precious Georgian seconds together is enough.

That's Tiff and I blogging nextdoor to eachother. Wanna know what she was sayin'?  Truck on over here.

Broncos, Plays, MIRL's, and a Winner. Woosh. I'm Tired.

I've met myself coming and going today.  And I don't like the view of me from behind, so this has been a truly traumatic day.

Really. It hasn't. 

Everything has been a good thing, it is just when it is all crammed into one day, I feel slightly overwhelmed
and a bit verklempt.

*** We had our family pictures made this morning.  We are so fortunate to be blessed with an amazing photographer in our small town that not only takes amazing pictures, but is a great friend.  She has an amazing gift of making our family just look good, despite the non-smiler (ahem.), boys who step square in every mud puddle on the way to the studio, and my face that insists on busting out in zits on picture day.  Kelly took that picture of us that is up there on my header a couple of years ago.  She's great.  Really great.

So I called her last night and asked about setting up a sitting.  And she said, "How about 9:45 tomorrow?" and I about swallowed my tongue.  But, because I have issues with telling people "no," I agreed and then began to stress.  I had zero idea as to what we would wear and knew that today was going to be crazy busy anyway.

But, believe it or not, we pulled it together.  We look like Denver Broncos fans all dressed in navy and orange, but we wore it because everyone already had something in their closet, and I didn't have to go buy anything new for the pictures.  So....go Broncs.

Kelly is supposed to be putting up a link to the pictures to view them online, so as soon as she does, I'll post them so that you can check them out.  They turned out great.  I'm really very proud of them.

***Tonight the boys are in a little play being put on by our homeschool co-op.  They are doing a version of "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever" which is a precious little story about the realization of the true meaning of Christmas.

I have to admit that my attitude has not been the best about the play, but I'm trying to keep it in check.  I know that this is a great experience for the boys and am trying to not let the busyness of my schedule interfere with my excitement for them. 

But I will be glad when it is over.

***I have suitcases scattered all over my house, and I am trying to finish up the last of our laundry.  We are heading out early early in the morning for an all day road-trip.  But as hard as my body tries to talk my mind into being all stressed and to not look forward to the trip, my heart and mind pull through and just make me giddy. 

We're heading to Georgia.

The land of peaches.  And pine trees.  And Tiffani.

Tiff is my bestest bloggy buddy, but I really just call her family.  I know people don't understand this whole weird world that we all live in here in our computers, but I've decided it doesn't really matter.  We get it.  That's what matters.

The boys and I are holing up at Tiff's house with her Belle-ish and Bear-ish clan, and we are planning on having the best time.  We've planned plenty of time to giggle and snort and guffaw.  And we are going to act like it is totally not the first time that we are meeting in the skin.  Because we already know everything there is to know about eachother...so we're just going to pick right up where we left off. 

And to add the cherry on top of an already fabulous week, I get to meet Michele (who will probably try to shove carrot juice down my throat, but I'll be so excited to meet her that I'll drink it willingly...maybe) and Elizabeth (who just may possibly be the cutest girl ever).  I also get to meet Tiffani's family, including her sweet baby sister Taylor who is a perpetual blog lurker!  

My boys have been counting down the days until they get to play with Connor and Julia, and even the husbands are stoked about hangin' together and doing man things. 

It is going to be a blessed weekend.  One that Tiffani and I have been praying over for a long time now, and it is so hard to believe that it is finally here.  We're praising Jesus for His goodness.

***One last thing.  We have a winner from the giveaway the other day.  MIMI from FRUMP'S FINDINGS, you won!!!  I so want to send every one of you a copy of Hinds' Feet On High Places, because it is just that good.  If you get a chance, run to the library and check it out or just pick it up at the bookstore (it's a keeper, so it's worth the cash!).  You won't be disappointed!  Congratulations, Mimi!!!!

Random Integer Generator

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12


Timestamp: 2009-12-04 19:56:26 UTC


I'm off to pack.  And run lines for the play.  And pack some more. 

Have a blessed weekend!

I'm Giving Away....Knee Socks. Just Kidding.

My room was a weird mint green color.

I had bunk beds. And I wore knee socks. And floor length dresses with lace collars. And apparently my mother let me.

I would play dolls and Barbies in that room.  And listen to Solid Gold albums, and sing into a hairbrush in my mirror. 

And at night, I would be tucked in by either my mama or my daddy.  And they would read to me.

I only remember 4 books that were ever read, but I'm positive that there were more.  But these 4 have always stuck.

Little Women.  A classic.  My mama read that one.

And then I can remember Jim-Dad, in his baby blue polyester pants, reading Little Pilgrim's Progress, The Chronicles of Narnia, and Hinds' Feet on High Places.

My dad was a sucker for a good allegory.

And so was I.

Those stories have always walked with me.  Their brilliant symbolic messages told in layman's terms.  So that even children "get" it.

I would imagine walking the roads on the way to the Celestial City with Christian.  Meeting Mr. Tumnus at the lamppost with Lucy.  And skipping through the High Places with the Chief Shepherd. 

They were all so real.  And beautiful.

And then time happened.  And growing up happened.  And stuff happened.  And those books, though still on my shelves, weren't taken out as much.  And weeks that turned into months turned into years. 

Last week, while we were at my parents' a stack of Hinds' Feet books set in the floor of my dad's office.  He quickly reminded me of our times reading those books together many many moons ago.  And the beautiful memories of those stories came flooding back.

Jim-Dad gave us a brand new copy last week and this morning, I sat my children down and cracked the binding.

The walls aren't mint green.  And no one is wearing knee socks.

But my children are going to hear these wonderful allegories of Jesus' love and our salvation journeys.  Not only because of heritage and nostalgia, but because they are beautiful.

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Pilgrim's Progress and the Narnia books are very well known, and if you haven't read them yourself or with your children, please consider doing so.  Hinds' Feet on High Places is not as well-known, but it's story is just as breath-taking. 

The story follows Much-Afraid as she journeys with her two companions, Sorrow and Suffering, to pass through dangers and to overcome her tormenting past to finally reach the High Places and be in union with the loving Shepherd.

Oh...and just to show you how strongly I feel about this particular book, I'm giving away a copy.

All you have to do is leave me a comment telling me if you've read the book or not (I would love to hear what those of you who have read it think!), and you'll be entered to win.  It would make a really great Christmas present, too, if you already have your own copy!  I'll pick the winner on Friday around 3 p.m. central time. 

Mammals....Not As Innocent As They Seem

I didn't breastfeed my kids.  I just didn't.  Didn't even try. 

I think it is a beautiful thing, and y'all can be all judgy and send me all kinds of emails telling me what an amazing experience I missed out on, how I have deprived my children of a stronger immune system, and how I shouldn't have stopped before I even started...I get it....but it was a choice that Kirk and I made, and it had nothing to do with any disregard for its significance or its beauty.  I just didn't do it.

But maybe I should have.

For the least of the significant reasons....because I was rendered completely and totally speechless yesterday.

It all started with a relatively normal day of school.  We had already finished up with our core subjects and had moved on to Science. 

The lesson:  Whales and Their Babies.

Sweet, right?  I was imaging a blessed little lesson in which we would "ooooh" and "aaaah" over cute little whale baby snapshots and talk about how amazing it is that these huge mammals are such caring, nurturing, and sacrificial mothers to their young.  Precious....this is what I thought, too.

Yah.  Sure.

We get to the part in our book where it reads something along the lines of "as with all other mammals, whales feed their babies with their milk."  And then it goes on to give a brief G-rated anatomy lesson on the exact placement of certain glands and so on.

All going well.  Until.

Sawyer:  They're like cows.
Me:  That's right.  Like cows.  Because cows are mammals.  And all other mammals do the same thing, we're just really used to seeing the cows giving milk.
Sawyer:  (because he's random)  I like cows.

Moving on to cute pictures.  No sweat.

Uh...not so fast.

Keaton:  (with the horror of realization crossing through his eyes)  But.....uh......we're mammals.
Me:  (with the horror of realization of where this convo is going)  Uh...that's right.  Humans are mammals.

The longest pause of silence known to man.

Keaton:  (sheer terror) Nuh-uh, Mama.  Nuh.Uh.  Please tell me that it isn't true.  Because that.is.gross.

And so induced the mystified haze my eldest offspring walked through all day.


Ranger Rick Safety Tip For the Day:  When making your pros-and-cons list for whether to nurse your very-mammal babies or not, add this one to the PROS side:  "Being around you while you are nursing your child's younger siblings will most likely eliminate the horror and traumatizing that will come one day when your nine year old son studies mammals."

You're welcome.