I've referred you guys to Father Hollywood's blog before, so he will likely be a familiar "face/voice" to you. He and his family have evacuated, as they live in the NOLA/Gretna area. I am hoping he will find a way to blog his experiences from the viewpoint of someone hoping beyond all hope to have something to which he can come home. If nothing else, it will be interesting to hear from the front lines after Gustav has passed through. Also keep your eyes peeled to S4J, as she will undoubtedly have some exciting weather to endure in the coming days.
Check up on Father Hollywood here and S4J here.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Quote of the Day
May God give you...
For every storm, a rainbow;
For every tear, a smile;
For every care, a promise;
A blessing in each trial.
For every problem life sends,
a faithful friend to share;
For every sigh, a sweet song,
And an answer for each prayer.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Gustav: A Matter of Where, Not When
Good grief. Just when we thought that our "Chocolate City" had seen enough drama, this happens. Thankfully, according to an article on Bloomberg.com, NOLA residents are taking a life-threatening Category 4 hurricane seriously this time. A local business owner was quoted as saying, "The hurricane isn't even in the Gulf of Mexico and the town is a ghost town." GOOD!! IT SHOULD'VE LOOKED LIKE THAT WHEN KATRINA WAS ON THE WAY!!! But I digress... Read the article here. I expect that we'll get some rain out this, too, if we're lucky. We could use the precipitation.
This map can be found on the NOAA website. I think these guys have such cool jobs. I've always had a real fascination with weather, weather patterns, and catastrophic weather events. I wouldn't be good at doing any of the math, but I sure do enjoy the science behind meterology.
Regardless of the fact that the eye is not predicted to pass directly over NOLA, they are most definitely on the more dangerous side of the hurricane. Quoted from the website HurricaneTrack.com,
"The maximum effects of a hurricane are usually felt within what is called the right-front quadrant. Here the winds are (typically) strongest, storm surge is highest, and the possibility of tornadoes is greatest. It is important to know whether or not your area will be affected by the right-front quadrant. It could mean the difference between maximum hurricane conditions or a glancing blow."
Unfortunately, if you superimpose this map over the predicted landfall of Gustav, NOLA falls directly in this quadrant of the hurricane, so it doesn't look good.
I won't comment on politics or personal opinion right now, because I'm sure you all know exactly how I feel about the Katrina debacle by now. (And if you don't, you probably don't want to know.) Let's just all pray for every man, woman, child, and animal fighting to survive right now. And let's please not focus just on NOLA. True, the squeakiest door gets the majority of the grease, but let's cast our eyes a little further west. People living in Cameron and Calcasieu Parishes will likely lose everything they have in this hurricane. They were directly hit by Rita three years ago and were almost wiped off the map then. (FYI: Lake Charles is in Calcasieu Parish, for a frame of reference.) There are plenty of low-income families living there, farmers, etc., who took a massive hit. There were even reports of flooded cemeteries with caskets floating like macabre driftwood in Cameron Parish. And we can't forget S4J and several other of my peeps in that neck of the woods, as the eye is predicted to more or less pass directly over them.
Praising God that His hand is already on this... Praying for leaders to do the right thing for their constituents... Praying for people to take initiative...
Friday, August 29, 2008
The Heart of a Mother
The first day, and in fact the first week, of school has come and gone, and everyone in our little family is worn out. I have taken a three hour nap two days in a row now, and as soon as I tap out the last word of this post, am going to shove aside the wrinkled laundry and load my exhausted lump of flesh into that fluffy piece of heaven called my bed and surrender to sweet slumber.
Having been an elementary teacher in my life before having my own "classroom of two," the first day of school is a magical day for me. It is palpably electrified, the anxious anticipation of laughter, tears, the smell of new crayons and playground sweat hovering in the room after the kids clear out, the odd aromatic combination of cafeteria food and rubber balls from P.E. wafting through the hallways always give me a sense of regeneration, a willingness to tackle endeavors anew, and commit to being a productive, positive individual.
I have seen tearful parents lingering in hallways and stalking their children through fogged up windows, reluctant to leave the post that only they held for the last five or so years, knowing that this is the first step their baby bird takes toward developing wings of their own and soaring away from the nest. In my mind, I was always thinking, "This is only elementary school -- HELLO!! We're not talking college yet! Your ill-behaved child will be back in a few hours, and you'll be looking forward to the next day of school! Grow up, will ya'?!?"
And then I became a parent.
Lil' G's first day of school was everything that I prayed for her that it would be. We packed her lunch, biked to school, and got settled in at her little desk. I got a little misty-eyed that she was so excited to be there and confident that this was, in fact, going to be a great experience, that she shooed me off with a, "Bye, Mom! Have a great day!" Bud was with me, and he started getting a little dramatic, so we made a quick exit before it got too hard to make it at all. I'm also trying not to be "that parent," the one who is a little too involved just because he/she used to be a teacher, etc. The bike ride home quickly got my mind off of the emotionality of the day, and the rest of the week went by quickly as well.
But today was different. Today was Day #5, and after having built up her confidence, Grace decided, when asked if she wanted Bud and me to walk her in the building and to her classroom or if she wanted to go by herself, she chose to go it alone. What?!? You're supposed to ask me to go with you!! You're supposed to love me and only me so much that you don't want to leave my side; at least, not yet. *sniff, sniff* (Hanging head, feeling so dejected and replaced...)
I resovled to be supportive of whatever decision she made, so when we walked into the door of the building, we hugged and kissed, said our goodbyes, and just stood there for a moment. It was a little surreal, with parents, children, teachers swirling around us like water in eddies around the rocks in a stream. Then she took that first step and was off on her journey.
She would walk five or six steps, pause, and turn around, searching the sea of faces for the one she calls, "Mommy." We would lock eyes, I would smile as genuinely as one can through hot tears, raise my hand as high as I could and wave, and she would turn around to continue down the long, straight hallway. Eventually, she disappeared into a crowd of precious little heads tottering off to classrooms, and she was gone.
I stood there, not knowing what to do. Besides keep Bud out of other people's way, as per usual. After what seemed like an eternity, I did what any mother would do:
I went down the hall to check on her.
I told Bud we were going to sneak up and just make sure Lil' G got to her classroom OK. I didn't want her to think I didn't trust her or cause her grief by showing up. I was going to stand back at a distance, make visual contact with the top of her pony-tailed head, and head to the bike rack for my morning's ride. But she was nowhere to be seen.
A little concerned, I made eye contact with her teacher, a friend of mine. We mouthed to each other over the tops of kids' heads:
Me: Did Lil' G make it down the hallway yet? She asked to come by herself. I just wanted to make sure she got here OK.
Teacher: Yes, she's inside the classroom putting her backpack away. She came in a little upset.
Just as we finished our mime conversation, Lil' G emerged from the room, with the same look on her face that I'm sure Atlas had on as he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. When I called out her name, she immediately burst into tears and nuzzled up to me, which of course made me sad. Bud, being surrounded by the women he loves, was overcome with empathy and burst into tears as well. We were such a pathetic, sweet sight.
In episodes like these, I try to ask Lil' G open-ended questions that will get her talking about how she's feeling. Many times, she's overcome not just by the details of a situation, but also feels the hole left in her heart by the absence of her daddy. These can be times where I feel like her life is so unfair. She cannot just be a child, going through the motions of growing up. Grief is not an imaginary playmate in our family. Grief is real, grief is always there, and grief announces its presence at the most inopportune of times. It is like a dragon that I have sworn to do battle with, to not let it overcome my family and I to the point where we are rendered unable to function, but I feel like that is my job as their mother. Grief can tangle with me, but it had better not touch my children. Then, with the few functioning, non-dramatic brain cells I posess, I realize that just can't be, and I have to watch their little hearts break all over again.
But grief was apparently taking a four-day holiday today.
When asked why she was so sad, she did not say that she missed her daddy, but that she missed me. She missed me. I know that my daughter loves me even when I am mean and unlovable. I know that she misses me when we are apart, even when grandparents are spoiling her rotten. I hear about her saying these things, but this is one of the only times she has clung to me, tears streaming down her face, and let down her guard to tell me she missed me, and I was so humbled.
I wanted to sit down right there in the middle of the floor in the Kindergarten wing of the school and hold her, but there was really no time. I consoled her to the point where she was able to get back with her group, Bud and I left the school, and the rest of the day was history from that point on. But there are so many things I wished I could download from my heart directly into hers.
I wanted to tell her how beautiful and strong she is. She is both tenacious and tender, driven yet deliberate. She is competetive and compassionate. I wanted to warn her as well. I wanted to tell her that she is so gifted, in many ways that will set her far apart from others. Anointed, really, with strength, grace, and vision. Her life's struggle will likely be how to balance Tom's gentleness and good humor with my fire and passion and determination. I wanted to tell her what so many others have tried to pound into my head, and that is that it's OK to be emotional and vulnerable. Part of what makes her who she is, and someone I admire, is that tender, gentle side of her. I am so afraid that life with a strong personality, driven, eccentric mom will only sharpen her tougher side, and her tenderness will be completely overshadowed by her innate desire to be a strong woman like her mother. (I am not necessarily trying to identify my own strength here, but rather point out that my own stubbornness and strong will, while serving me well in some ways, has been a real handicap in other ways.)
I read on a paper sent home by the teacher that "research shows" that children need eight hugs a day to maintain a strong emotional level and twelve hugs a day in order to grow. Good grief! Add that to all the other things I guilt trip myself about not taking enough time to do with the kids. But isn't that the least I can do?? I do, after all, want my children to grow, even if it means taking baby steps away from me and toward lives of their own.
I was relieved that Lil' G felt the same way I did about the morning's experiment: not just yet. We're getting there, but we don't want to rush through this stage of our lives. There are plenty of years ahead of us, God willing, to take those steps together. One tearful hug at a time.
Having been an elementary teacher in my life before having my own "classroom of two," the first day of school is a magical day for me. It is palpably electrified, the anxious anticipation of laughter, tears, the smell of new crayons and playground sweat hovering in the room after the kids clear out, the odd aromatic combination of cafeteria food and rubber balls from P.E. wafting through the hallways always give me a sense of regeneration, a willingness to tackle endeavors anew, and commit to being a productive, positive individual.
I have seen tearful parents lingering in hallways and stalking their children through fogged up windows, reluctant to leave the post that only they held for the last five or so years, knowing that this is the first step their baby bird takes toward developing wings of their own and soaring away from the nest. In my mind, I was always thinking, "This is only elementary school -- HELLO!! We're not talking college yet! Your ill-behaved child will be back in a few hours, and you'll be looking forward to the next day of school! Grow up, will ya'?!?"
And then I became a parent.
Lil' G's first day of school was everything that I prayed for her that it would be. We packed her lunch, biked to school, and got settled in at her little desk. I got a little misty-eyed that she was so excited to be there and confident that this was, in fact, going to be a great experience, that she shooed me off with a, "Bye, Mom! Have a great day!" Bud was with me, and he started getting a little dramatic, so we made a quick exit before it got too hard to make it at all. I'm also trying not to be "that parent," the one who is a little too involved just because he/she used to be a teacher, etc. The bike ride home quickly got my mind off of the emotionality of the day, and the rest of the week went by quickly as well.
But today was different. Today was Day #5, and after having built up her confidence, Grace decided, when asked if she wanted Bud and me to walk her in the building and to her classroom or if she wanted to go by herself, she chose to go it alone. What?!? You're supposed to ask me to go with you!! You're supposed to love me and only me so much that you don't want to leave my side; at least, not yet. *sniff, sniff* (Hanging head, feeling so dejected and replaced...)
I resovled to be supportive of whatever decision she made, so when we walked into the door of the building, we hugged and kissed, said our goodbyes, and just stood there for a moment. It was a little surreal, with parents, children, teachers swirling around us like water in eddies around the rocks in a stream. Then she took that first step and was off on her journey.
She would walk five or six steps, pause, and turn around, searching the sea of faces for the one she calls, "Mommy." We would lock eyes, I would smile as genuinely as one can through hot tears, raise my hand as high as I could and wave, and she would turn around to continue down the long, straight hallway. Eventually, she disappeared into a crowd of precious little heads tottering off to classrooms, and she was gone.
I stood there, not knowing what to do. Besides keep Bud out of other people's way, as per usual. After what seemed like an eternity, I did what any mother would do:
I went down the hall to check on her.
I told Bud we were going to sneak up and just make sure Lil' G got to her classroom OK. I didn't want her to think I didn't trust her or cause her grief by showing up. I was going to stand back at a distance, make visual contact with the top of her pony-tailed head, and head to the bike rack for my morning's ride. But she was nowhere to be seen.
A little concerned, I made eye contact with her teacher, a friend of mine. We mouthed to each other over the tops of kids' heads:
Me: Did Lil' G make it down the hallway yet? She asked to come by herself. I just wanted to make sure she got here OK.
Teacher: Yes, she's inside the classroom putting her backpack away. She came in a little upset.
Just as we finished our mime conversation, Lil' G emerged from the room, with the same look on her face that I'm sure Atlas had on as he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. When I called out her name, she immediately burst into tears and nuzzled up to me, which of course made me sad. Bud, being surrounded by the women he loves, was overcome with empathy and burst into tears as well. We were such a pathetic, sweet sight.
In episodes like these, I try to ask Lil' G open-ended questions that will get her talking about how she's feeling. Many times, she's overcome not just by the details of a situation, but also feels the hole left in her heart by the absence of her daddy. These can be times where I feel like her life is so unfair. She cannot just be a child, going through the motions of growing up. Grief is not an imaginary playmate in our family. Grief is real, grief is always there, and grief announces its presence at the most inopportune of times. It is like a dragon that I have sworn to do battle with, to not let it overcome my family and I to the point where we are rendered unable to function, but I feel like that is my job as their mother. Grief can tangle with me, but it had better not touch my children. Then, with the few functioning, non-dramatic brain cells I posess, I realize that just can't be, and I have to watch their little hearts break all over again.
But grief was apparently taking a four-day holiday today.
When asked why she was so sad, she did not say that she missed her daddy, but that she missed me. She missed me. I know that my daughter loves me even when I am mean and unlovable. I know that she misses me when we are apart, even when grandparents are spoiling her rotten. I hear about her saying these things, but this is one of the only times she has clung to me, tears streaming down her face, and let down her guard to tell me she missed me, and I was so humbled.
I wanted to sit down right there in the middle of the floor in the Kindergarten wing of the school and hold her, but there was really no time. I consoled her to the point where she was able to get back with her group, Bud and I left the school, and the rest of the day was history from that point on. But there are so many things I wished I could download from my heart directly into hers.
I wanted to tell her how beautiful and strong she is. She is both tenacious and tender, driven yet deliberate. She is competetive and compassionate. I wanted to warn her as well. I wanted to tell her that she is so gifted, in many ways that will set her far apart from others. Anointed, really, with strength, grace, and vision. Her life's struggle will likely be how to balance Tom's gentleness and good humor with my fire and passion and determination. I wanted to tell her what so many others have tried to pound into my head, and that is that it's OK to be emotional and vulnerable. Part of what makes her who she is, and someone I admire, is that tender, gentle side of her. I am so afraid that life with a strong personality, driven, eccentric mom will only sharpen her tougher side, and her tenderness will be completely overshadowed by her innate desire to be a strong woman like her mother. (I am not necessarily trying to identify my own strength here, but rather point out that my own stubbornness and strong will, while serving me well in some ways, has been a real handicap in other ways.)
I read on a paper sent home by the teacher that "research shows" that children need eight hugs a day to maintain a strong emotional level and twelve hugs a day in order to grow. Good grief! Add that to all the other things I guilt trip myself about not taking enough time to do with the kids. But isn't that the least I can do?? I do, after all, want my children to grow, even if it means taking baby steps away from me and toward lives of their own.
I was relieved that Lil' G felt the same way I did about the morning's experiment: not just yet. We're getting there, but we don't want to rush through this stage of our lives. There are plenty of years ahead of us, God willing, to take those steps together. One tearful hug at a time.
"And may the Lord keep watch between you and me when we are away from each other." -- Genesis 31:49
Accountability Post #3: "Runnin' With It"
**TMI WARNING TODAY!! DON'T READ THIS FIRST PARAGRAPH IF YOU DON'T LIKE DETAILS!!
I am enjoying being on the bike, but I didn't think today was going to pan out. I have had some weird stomach ache-y thing going on all week and I can't quite nail down the culprit. I've recently started a different hormone pill, as well as a multi-vitamin, and I've noticed I've started early on the post-nasal drip that is a sure sign that fall (or what passes for fall in Texas) is coming. So between these three offenders, one of them has had me doubled over all week. You know those commercials for bladder control drugs where they can't be out in public for long, or if they do, they have to be near a bathroom or know where one is? That's me this week, except it's not my bladder that needs controlling. So as the kids are getting helmets on and practically already down the road, I'm in the bathroom, bargaining with God to make the stomach ache go away.
Please, God, have mercy. I would do anything at this point, ANYTHING, to convince you to heal my poor bowels and make the stomach ache go away. I'll even quit making fun of Democrats (at least until the end of the convention). OK? So if you could just go on ahead and, ahhhh, take away the stomach ache, that'd be greaaaaaat.
At any rate, we got Lil' G to school (that's a WHOLE other blog today, BTW) and here's what we got:
Report #3: 29 AUG 08. Went approx. 5.25 miles this morning, including the trip to school. 4.25 miles count towards training. Completed in approx. 23.5 minutes for an average of 5.53 min/mi. (Note: I think I may have miscalculated the first two days, but that should only affect the averages by half of a minute or less.) I did 2.5 miles on a walking/biking track today and did less in the way of hills. With the stomach and all, I thought it prudent to be near tree cover in case I had to use nature's bathroom. :) (S4J, that was just for you, haha...)
On a happy note, we have met neighbors that are biking to school as well. The mom pulls her little guy, who is Bud's age, on a trail-a-bike, too! Turns out we've been stalking each other. When we saw them pass by the house the other day, we all pushed our faces up against the windows to gawk like we were hunting down the ice cream man or something, completely incredulous that there was another family out there like us! I think they're a military family, which warms my heart. I can't wait to get to know them better.
I'm off to do some Pepto Bismol shooters and get my day off and running, no pun intended. I've two other posts in the works, so be sure and check back soon. And please keep those crazy cajuns in your prayers, and really anyone who lives on the Gulf Coast these days. Even as irriated as I permanently am with all things Louisiana or New Orleans, hurricanes are serious stuff. Let's pray there are no repeats of 2005, in more ways than you all could imagine...
I am enjoying being on the bike, but I didn't think today was going to pan out. I have had some weird stomach ache-y thing going on all week and I can't quite nail down the culprit. I've recently started a different hormone pill, as well as a multi-vitamin, and I've noticed I've started early on the post-nasal drip that is a sure sign that fall (or what passes for fall in Texas) is coming. So between these three offenders, one of them has had me doubled over all week. You know those commercials for bladder control drugs where they can't be out in public for long, or if they do, they have to be near a bathroom or know where one is? That's me this week, except it's not my bladder that needs controlling. So as the kids are getting helmets on and practically already down the road, I'm in the bathroom, bargaining with God to make the stomach ache go away.
Please, God, have mercy. I would do anything at this point, ANYTHING, to convince you to heal my poor bowels and make the stomach ache go away. I'll even quit making fun of Democrats (at least until the end of the convention). OK? So if you could just go on ahead and, ahhhh, take away the stomach ache, that'd be greaaaaaat.
At any rate, we got Lil' G to school (that's a WHOLE other blog today, BTW) and here's what we got:
Report #3: 29 AUG 08. Went approx. 5.25 miles this morning, including the trip to school. 4.25 miles count towards training. Completed in approx. 23.5 minutes for an average of 5.53 min/mi. (Note: I think I may have miscalculated the first two days, but that should only affect the averages by half of a minute or less.) I did 2.5 miles on a walking/biking track today and did less in the way of hills. With the stomach and all, I thought it prudent to be near tree cover in case I had to use nature's bathroom. :) (S4J, that was just for you, haha...)
On a happy note, we have met neighbors that are biking to school as well. The mom pulls her little guy, who is Bud's age, on a trail-a-bike, too! Turns out we've been stalking each other. When we saw them pass by the house the other day, we all pushed our faces up against the windows to gawk like we were hunting down the ice cream man or something, completely incredulous that there was another family out there like us! I think they're a military family, which warms my heart. I can't wait to get to know them better.
I'm off to do some Pepto Bismol shooters and get my day off and running, no pun intended. I've two other posts in the works, so be sure and check back soon. And please keep those crazy cajuns in your prayers, and really anyone who lives on the Gulf Coast these days. Even as irriated as I permanently am with all things Louisiana or New Orleans, hurricanes are serious stuff. Let's pray there are no repeats of 2005, in more ways than you all could imagine...
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Accountability Post #1 & 2
Le pant, le puff, le pant, le puff...
OK, I totally meant to find a picture of Pepe Le Pew's "Leettle Peegion" who is constantly exhausted from sprinting, but this was as good as I could come up with. Either way, I just came back from my second multi-mile bike ride, and my legs are tight! And not the in the hip-hop sort of way, either. I mean, old lady, your-thirties-are-the-first-step-toward-the-nursing-home sort of way. Why, oh WHY do we take advantage of our nubile, hott selves in our 20s, when all we care about is boys, careers, and eating things that no human should get away with eating without direct consequences to the hips, gut, and heart?!?
At any rate, I've decided to post each time I get out on the road for a "real" bike ride. I am officially training for my first bike race. It's on 4 OCT in Lufkin, Texas. It's called the Pineywoods Purgatory. I chose this race for a couple of reasons. First of all, hello, it's in the Piney Woods region of Texas. It's the closest I can come to being in Washington state as possible. I lived in Lufkin for a brief time as a very little kiddo, so I've always been a little partial. It's also five weeks away, so I'm trying to maximize my training time. I am entering the basic race, the 25 mile course. I really want to do the 52 mile course because I think it would be so beautiful to see the scenery, but that's too ambitious for a first race. My goal is to simply finish the race. Period. I think it's achieveable, too, but then again, I've only gotten on the road two times now.
In addition to training for a race, the kids and I have been biking Lil' G to school, and it's been a great success. We even saw one other mom riding with her kids to school, too. As far as I know, we are the only two families in the school doing it, but that's fine with me. We're saving 20 miles a week on our gas consumption! Hooah!
So, here's Report #1: 25 AUG 08. Rode a total of five miles for the day, two of which were actual "training miles." It took us 12:26, and we were going through a neighborhood route that was pretty hilly. Averaged 6.13 min./mi. I was pulling Bud and the trail-a-bike, which totals around 55 lbs. of extra weight! I was pleased with this as a first ride, but surprised at the difference in perspective about how steep the hills turned out to be. Hills don't feel near as steep in a big SUV. :)
Report #2: 27 AUG 08. Training miles: 3.5 Took exactly 19:00. Averaged 5.43 min./mi. I was so proud of myself -- I made it all the way up the steepest hill up to street level without stopping this time!! I was even pulling Bud on the trail-a-bike for this ride, too!! After drop off/pick up from school, will log a total of 6.5 miles.
I will have the ability to ride longer amounts of time and not have to pull Bud and his bike soon, as he starts school next Wednesday. I have decided not to train on Tuesdays and Thursdays, as that is when I have Pilates, which I luuuuurrrrve!!! I am too crapped out and tired to get a good workout at Pilates if I have done weights or extensive bike riding, and I enjoy it too much to give it up. So, I'm training three mornings a week. I don't have a lot of other time to devote to it when it's not blue-blazes hot outside, or I've got Lil' G on her bike along with me, so I've got to make each effort count.
I want to give a serious shout-out to mah peeps, HisGirl, for taking the biking challenge as well! I don't know that she's training for anything, but she's been making regular efforts to get out and go biking, so kudos to her! I have to say, girl, you're looking happier and healthier these days than I think I've ever seen you!! (And you've always been a lovely lady, chica.) Kick some butt, girl!
So if any of you would like to join me in the challenge just to get out there and get active, that would be great. It could be any activity you want, indoors or outdoors, but you've got to post for accountability!! And if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go pick on HisGirl and beg for a cool button now...
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Self-Medicating With Comedy
I swore I wouldn't do this any more. After sifting through the first 100 blogs on my site, I was apalled at how little writing I had done and how much "fluff and stuff" I had on my site. After all, this could be a ministry opportunity! Or a chance to develop myself as a writer and philosopher, a truly extraordinary wealth of knowledge and expression for the masses. But after the emotional build-up of sending Lil' G off to the first day of Kindergarten early tomorrow morning, missing R., missing my Chicas and being insanely jealous of the fellowship and laughter that those two noodles HisGirl and S4J got to have (you haterz! j/k -- love you bunches), and being, quite frankly, overwhelmed with what my schedule is going to be like from now until the end of the year, this is what I said:
Screw it! I need something funny...
(And before I go on, S4J's trip wasn't all sunshine and lollypops. She has been on such an amazing journey, one of mission that comes from the heart that God has given her for her brother, and it's been a long road. I'm so very thankful that HisGirl was able to steal away to go along on the journey to help bear the burden and so fulfill the law of Christ.)
OK, now... On with the show!
First of all, you guys need some GGG 101. My relaxed and groovy homey, JO, introduced me to this comedian, Eddie Izzard, a few months ago, and church just isn't the same now that we've beendefiled by his insanity introduced to his comedy. Keep in mind he's British and runs off on tangents, which is funny in and of itself. In order to fully appreciate my snarky comments, watch these clips:
"Covered in Bees"
"Achilles and Hoover" (longer but funny)
Earlier tonight, I was over at Red Lipstick Diaries and she had a couple clips from a guy named Tim Hawkins. I nearly died laughing at him. He's a musical comedian, which puts him over the top in my book!
"Things You Don't Say To Your Wife"
Parents Are People (you will pee -- this is hysterical!!)
And this is a musical comedic shout-out to anyone who is involved on a praise team or church band:
For all you homeschooling families, this one's for you:
Lastly, this is the cleanest cut I could find of Rodney Carrington. I'll warn you now, he cusses, but he's painfully funny! I've been going through all his YouTube clips to find a relatively "clean" one and have been laughing so hard that my nose has stopped running and is stopped up now. SOOOO funny:
Pardon some of the language on this last one, but as Larry the Cable Guy says, "I don't care who ya are, that's funny right there!"
Screw it! I need something funny...
(And before I go on, S4J's trip wasn't all sunshine and lollypops. She has been on such an amazing journey, one of mission that comes from the heart that God has given her for her brother, and it's been a long road. I'm so very thankful that HisGirl was able to steal away to go along on the journey to help bear the burden and so fulfill the law of Christ.)
OK, now... On with the show!
First of all, you guys need some GGG 101. My relaxed and groovy homey, JO, introduced me to this comedian, Eddie Izzard, a few months ago, and church just isn't the same now that we've been
"Covered in Bees"
"Achilles and Hoover" (longer but funny)
Earlier tonight, I was over at Red Lipstick Diaries and she had a couple clips from a guy named Tim Hawkins. I nearly died laughing at him. He's a musical comedian, which puts him over the top in my book!
"Things You Don't Say To Your Wife"
Parents Are People (you will pee -- this is hysterical!!)
And this is a musical comedic shout-out to anyone who is involved on a praise team or church band:
For all you homeschooling families, this one's for you:
Lastly, this is the cleanest cut I could find of Rodney Carrington. I'll warn you now, he cusses, but he's painfully funny! I've been going through all his YouTube clips to find a relatively "clean" one and have been laughing so hard that my nose has stopped running and is stopped up now. SOOOO funny:
Pardon some of the language on this last one, but as Larry the Cable Guy says, "I don't care who ya are, that's funny right there!"
"A merry heart does good, like medicine, but a broken spirit dries the bones." -- Proverbs 17:22
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Unfinished Business
She's a real piece of work, huh? A little of this, a little of that, a whole bunch of unorthodox chunks of her personality, all manifesting themselves simultaneously. Somehow, all of these components come together to create her -- let's call her Marge for funsies. These idiosyncrosies may be hilarious, irritating, or even self-destructive, but wrapped up in her patchwork appearance they scream MARGE. In a senseless way, they make sense when you think of her.
What would your picture look like? I'm trying to envision mine these days, and I'll be honest, the picture I'm getting is like that on an old television with rabbit ears, trying to get clear reception of the Johnny Carson show during a summertime thunderstorm out at my grandparents house. You could always see the outline of a person, generally tell their gender, but the details were decidedly fuzzy, and if you were getting too much static, you couldn't even guess who they were by their voice. But if you held your tongue just right, for a flash you would get a clear picture. You would hustle back to your seat, only to have the picture fuzz up again the minute your hindquarters hit something solid. Back to the drawing board...
I sat down to type a blog today about nothing in particular. I've been uber-busy, getting things ready for a new school year, a new page in all our lives as Lil' G starts Kindergarten and Bud begins preschool for the first time. I've been plagued with guilt over not getting my academic work done (haven't even touched it), migraines that last for days on end and make me into what I've termed, "Dinosaur Mommy," mental exhaustion as I try to get things squared away for a wonga-sized garage sale this weekend, and the list just goes on and on. I've felt like I hit a mental dry spell, creatively speaking, after the 100th blog. To be honest, it was rather anti-climactic for me. I am now left with the feeling of, "Now what???" But as I searched for something with which to open this blog, I ran across this picture in an email and it intrigued me.
My middle name is Renee. For most of my days, I have not necessarily been too fond of the name and have given my mother endless grief about being caught up in the '70s for giving me this middle name. However, in recent years, I have embraced it because it sums me up in one word: reborn. I have learned that I am in a constant cycle of rebirth: there is some kind of beginning, toil and struggle, success or failure, and then the need to start it all back up again. I am one of those people who is never content just to be. Some people muse at the amount of energy I exude; others think, 'Better her than me.' Me, I see it as a mixed blessing of sorts. I love the fact that I am constantly learning and growing, but I am exhausted by the fact that I am constantly learning and growing. Continually being reborn, perpetually metamorphosizing from one stage to the next, takes energy and patience. Some days I have the energy, but rarely do I posses the patience.
I looked at Marge and in a strange way, she reminded me of myself, or perhaps she taught me something that I need to apply to my own wacky existence. She's obnoxious, sassy, independent, doing her own thing, sitting back and watching it all. She is feminine but not a prude, tart and tangy without leaving a bitter taste in the mouth. To the casual observer, she looks like a lunatic, but to the ones she calls friends and family, every thing in that picture is quintessential 'Marge.' It just wouldn't be her without [insert crazy anecdotal item here]. Life has made her the multi-faceted person she is. The choices she's made, the roads she's taken, the ones she's bypassed, have all added a color to her canvas. I look at my own life and see the vibrant colors of life experiences, the warm fabrics of comfort and love from growing up years, the silky feel of love, the bruises of heartache and despair.
What Marge is telling me, between blowing smoke rings and making Old Navy commercials, is to embrace it. My picture cannot and will not look like any other in human history, and I can either avert my eyes and focus on everyone else's picture in God's gallery, or I can face my own, warts and all. I need to see everything, every moment, every tear, every scrape, every kiss, every sticky hug, every temper tantrum, every mess, every disappointment, every shut door, every cracked window, every achievement and every failure, as beautiful. Personally, I would love some of my rebirth to at least slow down to a less-than-break-neck speed. If it did, would that really be me, though? I wonder. I know that, once I start accepting God's design in and for my life, I will have much more peace, and I will finally feel as comfortable in my own picture as I do in my favorite jeans (or better yet, yoga pants).
"13For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother's womb. 14I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, and that my soul knows very well... 16Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them."
--Psalm 139:13-14, 16
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
The Wait Is Over!
So here we are! Thanks to those of you who dropped me a line -- your kind words and help were appreciated! Let's get started with the festivities...
I thought it might be appropriate to answer some of my own questions and some lagniappe (a.k.a. "a little something extra for ya"). Here are the questions that posed to you, the Readership:
1) What you have learned about me in the last 100 blogs?
2) What was your favorite entry? Funniest? Saddest? Most controversial? etc...
3) What have you learned about yourself through reading this blog?
4) Anything else about which you'd like to put in your two cents-worth...
I'll just dive right in!
1) What you have learned about me in the last 100 blogs?
Since I was the one posing the question, I will talk about myself here. Honestly, I've (re)learned that I'm a work in progress. I'm not near the solid rock that I had myself fooled into thinking I was. I'm waaaay too hard on myself, but I see that as
2) What was your favorite entry? Funniest? Saddest? Most controversial? etc...
Personally, I've got lots, but I'll get to those in a minute. Hands down, "Socks" wins the favorite entry contest. Second place goes to, "Happy Anniversary, Schmupps," and the birdie entries collectively take home the bronze. The posts that get the most Google hits are, in order, "We're Expecting!", "The Open-Toed Shoe Pledge," and, "Today's Verse: Matthew 18:3-5." My personal favorites include all of my rant-n-raves (they are the most fun to write), the birdie series, the anniversary post, a pictoral verse for Bud, "Baby Mine" for Lil' G, and some of my reflections on scripture (found here, here, here, here, here, and finally here). I could go on, but then I'd be linking to almost every post that's not a MeMe or a music video, but I digress...
3) What have you learned about yourself through reading this blog?
"Trust"; "living, learning, laughing, and loving"; "the continuing sense that if we really listen to one another and really seek to understand, our potential for grace giving and receiving (from each other) abounds"; "courage to be more open in my own life"; "most people see me as relaxed and groovy. Ciao." (Oh you are, JO!!) BTW, links are to blogs of those who left comments...
I think I'm going to take the following comment from Gretchen and have it made into a tramp stamp for my car (JUST kidding):
"I think you are like my favorite Mexican food: Spicy and delicious."
As promised, the contest winner is none other than... Halfmoon Girl! I promise I used the randomizer, but I couldn't figure out how to properly link or display it. So email me for directions on how to send your prize, HMG!!
In closing, thanks to you all for reading. I realize in looking back that my writing definitely has room for improvement, but I don't really strive for any kind of "finished product" here on my blog. It's just raw and uncut GGG, plain and simple.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
I Heart David Sedaris and Other Random Observations
I've been blogging a little here and a little there in my mind but can't seem to carve out the time to sit still at the computer. I've got a jillion things I want to mull over "out loud" but want to chose my postings carefully, as I don't want to steamroll right over my 100th blog. As a result, you can all sample a bit from the buffet of my mental smorgasboard:
more cat pictures
This is going to be me in about a week. For some INSANE reason, I have decided that I need to do a garage sale next weekend, and I have a looooong way to go. Did I mention this garage sale will fall the Saturday BEFORE SCHOOL STARTS?!? Not only that, but on the second day of school, I'm taking my show on the road, along with JO I'm hoping, and accompanying our pastor and youth minister to a local private university to get the word out about our church and to offer some "unplugged" style of worship and food for the students on campus. I've got to pick two hours-worth of music (I'm not a big fan of the repeat, unless it's a rockin' song) and develop that. To top it off with a rum-soaked marischino cherry, the praise band at church is working up a 10-song set, a.k.a. "The Jesus Project," by Rich Mullins, for a free concert to follow a fundraising BBQ at our church on 7 September. I won't even kvetch on the PLMA stuff I haven't come close to beginning to work on. I've also started waking kids up almost early enough to rehearse for a school day and biking up to the school and back. I feel like I've got the kids in kiddie boot camp and I'm the lead drill instructor.
Hopefully this has been a blog worth reading, albeit long. I'm hoping to keep up my "extracurricular" reading. I might even start a separate blog just devoted to that, but we'll see -- I'm doing well to be consistent over here. If you haven't left a comment for my 100th blog and would like to, you've got another day to do so! Remember there's a prize involved!! Go check it out!!
First of all, if you have not done yourself the favor of reading ANY book by David Sedaris, you need to send yourself to time-out post-haste. Once you've thought long and hard about what you've done, then you need to get your hands on a copy thereof. If you are even remotely entertained by anything I write, appreciate dysfunctional families, enjoy well-placed sarcasm, and like to laugh, I promise that you won't be disappointed. I recommend reading this one first since it really focuses on his family and his experiences growing up. I knew absolutely nothing about Sedaris before picking up any of his books and have really enjoyed learning about his background, quirks, and observations without bias from anyone but a book-loving friend of mine who has the discernment to make you drool with anticipation for a book without spoiling the plot or the surprises along the way. (Well-done, JO!) Sedaris writes essays, commentaries really, so if you have a short attention span, you can read one in fifteen minutes and walk away, as they are stand-alone entries; however, they do have a central theme within the book. As snarky and hilarious as this book was, and the next one as well, there is a twinge of bittersweet reflection that really grounds his words in reality. He can have you swerving in traffic because you're laughing so hard (obviously listening to the audiobook, not reading and driving because that would be wrong... uh oh...!!), and in the next breath deliver a lump to your throat that makes you think, "Wow." Some of my favorite stories involve his brother, who sounds like a real piece of work.
Bottom line: great read. I read this on the plane to Seattle and was guffawing out loud on the plane. It was the first thing I picked up in my effort to lighten up and learn to be more relaxed and groovy. I began and finished it in two plane rides.
I listened to this on audiobook, and what began as a long foray through the boring coastal Texas flatlands turned into a comedic/literary treat. The kids were watching a movie in the car with headphones on, so I got to enjoy this out loud. What I love most about Sedaris' audiobooks is that he reads them himself. A real bonus in my book -- not only do you "read" the authors words, but you also get to hear them the way he is wanting you to hear them, complete with emphasis and voices for all the characters. Some of the essays are even read in front of a live audience, which rocks. This particular collection focuses on his experiences living in France as an "ex-pat" and attempting to learn the French language. "Pickapocketoni" and the one where the students learning French are trying to explain, in broken French, to a Muslim what Easter is, are hysterical. Anything involving his dad is sheer madness and hilarity as well. The essay involving his sister, Amy, and her penchant for role play is hilarious as well.
Bottom line: I'm hooked on his writing but will choose to enjoy them as audiobooks.
All I can say is, Dang. Awesome book. I couldn't begin to give this book a proper review because there are so many reactions and emotions swirling through my heart toward this book. A pastor friend of mine recommended this author to me, and I know she has written some religious and non-fiction. This is the first book of hers that I have read, and in an effort to lighten up, I'm going to stick to her fiction for now.
Sue Monk Kidd has a way for crafting language quite unlike anyone I've ever heard, except perhaps Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings. Kidd has now officially entered my "comfort food" category of writers, which includes the likes of Rawlings, Fannie Flagg, and Ann B. Ross. Flagg and Ross are more on the end of southern (humorous) fiction writers (Flagg has written lots of great books, such as "Fried Green Tomatoes At The Whistle Stop Cafe," and Ross has written the "Miss Julia" series). However, I classify them as my "comfort food" category because they make me feel like I'm curled up on a hot summer afternoon at my grandparents' house, either on the chenille bedspread in the guestroom or on an old quilt on the living room floor, breathing in the smells of home cooking and musty old cotton from the gin, exhausted from a long day of working in the garden or fishing in the tank. These writers make me yearn for simpler times, rural settings, a slower, more thoughtful lifestyle, and a life that is straightforward and comforting. Most times the characters are anything but simple, the times almost always difficult and trying, but there is an implied simplicity that sweeps me out of my reality and into the pages of the book. I mourn upon finishing a book like this, missing the characters, wanting to be a fly on the wall in their old-fashioned kitchens and screened-in porches, having instead to deal with my modern life and issues. Now that's a good book.
This book has characters that draw you in and get under your skin. I'll be honest, it took me a good four chapters to give a rip, mainly because I was reading some other things and in transit at the beginning of this book. Once I had a piece of time to devote to it, Kidd had her hooks in me, weaving a web of carefully chosen words around my head that made me want to neglect my kids just so I could finish this book, as much as I wanted to stay in it forever. If you have ever had a tragedy in your life that left behind a lot of unanswered questions, especially when it comes to the identity of the one lost, or if you have yearned for the love of a parent, it will touch you. Such a great read.
more cat pictures
This is going to be me in about a week. For some INSANE reason, I have decided that I need to do a garage sale next weekend, and I have a looooong way to go. Did I mention this garage sale will fall the Saturday BEFORE SCHOOL STARTS?!? Not only that, but on the second day of school, I'm taking my show on the road, along with JO I'm hoping, and accompanying our pastor and youth minister to a local private university to get the word out about our church and to offer some "unplugged" style of worship and food for the students on campus. I've got to pick two hours-worth of music (I'm not a big fan of the repeat, unless it's a rockin' song) and develop that. To top it off with a rum-soaked marischino cherry, the praise band at church is working up a 10-song set, a.k.a. "The Jesus Project," by Rich Mullins, for a free concert to follow a fundraising BBQ at our church on 7 September. I won't even kvetch on the PLMA stuff I haven't come close to beginning to work on. I've also started waking kids up almost early enough to rehearse for a school day and biking up to the school and back. I feel like I've got the kids in kiddie boot camp and I'm the lead drill instructor.
Hopefully this has been a blog worth reading, albeit long. I'm hoping to keep up my "extracurricular" reading. I might even start a separate blog just devoted to that, but we'll see -- I'm doing well to be consistent over here. If you haven't left a comment for my 100th blog and would like to, you've got another day to do so! Remember there's a prize involved!! Go check it out!!
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Contest Alert: GGG's Upcoming 100th Blog
OK, so it's not really all that fabulous a contest, but I figured I might have to bribe a couple of you to participate, LOL! And may I just send out a huge HOOTY HOO to HisGirl for the ROCKIN', SMOKIN' HOT GGG Contest Button!!
Today's post is No. 98, and in preparation for my 100th blog, I would like to toss out a challenge to you, the Readership. My 100th blog will be a compilation of your input and my reflections. Please help me out by leaving a comment on this entry!!! These are the kinds of things I'm interested to know and share:
1) What you have learned about me in the last 100 blogs?
2) What was your favorite entry? Funniest? Saddest? Most controversial? etc...
3) What have you learned about yourself through reading this blog?
4) Anything else about which you'd like to put in your two cents-worth...
If you happen to remember which post it came from, tell me the date or title. I will work studiously to link everything up and compile the list for my Big Bloggy Blowout!!! (Maybe my superhero name should be Alliteration Girl...)
And for those of you that leave comments to participate, I have decided to sweeten the pot with an iTunes gift card. I'll be all random and stuff so it's not rigged. Although kissing up is completely encouraged at this point to boost ye olde ego... :)
Thanks in advance! Big bloggy smooches, pooches!!!
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Baby Mine
As I sit here typing tonight, I'm sipping a beer, my stomach is flat, and my body feels pretty good considering I've been travelling for the last month. Five years ago, the picture looked a little different...
After having labored for 36 hours, I finally delivered my first child, my daughter, Lil' G. I was quite overdue and impatient to meet this mystery baby, as we had decided to find out if she was going to be a "she" or a "he" until her birth. I remember buying a gallon of milk that expired on August 3, 2003, and I commented to my mother, "By the time this milk expires, I will have already had the baby!" *Insert dreamy sigh here* Almost two weeks later, all I had was rotten milk and no baby. I sat in her little room, the last time it would ever be spotlessly clean, baby jungle animals suspended in mid-air over the crib, and just breathed in the smell of adorable onesies washed in Dreft, meticulously folded and put away in the drawers. Why, God, why? Why must you be so cruel?!? All I want is to finally become a mother, finally meet this person who has already changed my life! Oh, the agony... Five years later, I'm wondering why I didn't go out and get a pedicure instead of sitting there kvetching about not being in excruciating pain with idiot nurses telling me how to breathe and that I had to wait for my epidural, but then again, isn't hindsight 20-20??
I remember her soft, delicate cry, the way she was hungry yet curious about her surroundings. I remember her plump cheeks and tiny fingers and toes. I remember feeling that finally my life had meaning, and there was, in fact, a reason why God had put me here on this earth. I remember calming her by singing, "You've Got A Friend," by James Taylor, which she certainly heard enough of in the womb and probably recognized. I remember T. beaming as he held in the arms the love of his life, how he never left her side, and how close they were even until the last moments of his life.
Now that Lil' G is five (going on fifteen, I swear), I look at how she has gone from a bald, butterball baby to a sassy, sneaky, strong little girl. How could anyone ever desire to go through life without the love of a child in their lives? And I don't mean as the favorite aunt or uncle, but as a parent, the one person who knows their child better than even they know themselves. I can't say for sure, but I think that adoptive parents experience this even though they did not give physical birth to their child. In fact, I would venture to guess that their bonds are even more intense, adding on the years of longing, the hardships of going through the process of searching, matching, and finally meeting. Birth parents and adoptive parents gestate love in their hearts, and ultimately it is love that overrides the importance of DNA.
This picture is the first one taken of Lil' G after she was born. I'm fairly certain that T. was the first person she laid eyes on in this world. I keep it in a Harley-Davidson picture frame that I gave T. as a gift after she was born. On the frame reads this quotation: "The best part of any journey is the people we meet along the way." Happy birthday, Lil' G -- we love you!
After having labored for 36 hours, I finally delivered my first child, my daughter, Lil' G. I was quite overdue and impatient to meet this mystery baby, as we had decided to find out if she was going to be a "she" or a "he" until her birth. I remember buying a gallon of milk that expired on August 3, 2003, and I commented to my mother, "By the time this milk expires, I will have already had the baby!" *Insert dreamy sigh here* Almost two weeks later, all I had was rotten milk and no baby. I sat in her little room, the last time it would ever be spotlessly clean, baby jungle animals suspended in mid-air over the crib, and just breathed in the smell of adorable onesies washed in Dreft, meticulously folded and put away in the drawers. Why, God, why? Why must you be so cruel?!? All I want is to finally become a mother, finally meet this person who has already changed my life! Oh, the agony... Five years later, I'm wondering why I didn't go out and get a pedicure instead of sitting there kvetching about not being in excruciating pain with idiot nurses telling me how to breathe and that I had to wait for my epidural, but then again, isn't hindsight 20-20??
I remember her soft, delicate cry, the way she was hungry yet curious about her surroundings. I remember her plump cheeks and tiny fingers and toes. I remember feeling that finally my life had meaning, and there was, in fact, a reason why God had put me here on this earth. I remember calming her by singing, "You've Got A Friend," by James Taylor, which she certainly heard enough of in the womb and probably recognized. I remember T. beaming as he held in the arms the love of his life, how he never left her side, and how close they were even until the last moments of his life.
Now that Lil' G is five (going on fifteen, I swear), I look at how she has gone from a bald, butterball baby to a sassy, sneaky, strong little girl. How could anyone ever desire to go through life without the love of a child in their lives? And I don't mean as the favorite aunt or uncle, but as a parent, the one person who knows their child better than even they know themselves. I can't say for sure, but I think that adoptive parents experience this even though they did not give physical birth to their child. In fact, I would venture to guess that their bonds are even more intense, adding on the years of longing, the hardships of going through the process of searching, matching, and finally meeting. Birth parents and adoptive parents gestate love in their hearts, and ultimately it is love that overrides the importance of DNA.
This picture is the first one taken of Lil' G after she was born. I'm fairly certain that T. was the first person she laid eyes on in this world. I keep it in a Harley-Davidson picture frame that I gave T. as a gift after she was born. On the frame reads this quotation: "The best part of any journey is the people we meet along the way." Happy birthday, Lil' G -- we love you!
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