Sunday, February 25, 2007

Happy Birthday, B

It's my husband's birthday today. Here's a little tribute to the man I love.

A few of the things I love about my husband:
1. He always fills my car with gas for me
2. He can make H laugh better than anyone else can
3. He's the best preacher I know. (If you're going to marry a preacher, marry a good one. That's a lot of bad sermons to have to listen to otherwise!)
4. He brings the kids over to visit me at work
5. He's very patient with me - far more than I deserve
6. He's handsome
7. He's very tidy.
8. He's really good at building with Mega Blocks. He makes a mean house and garage for Barney.
9. He likes my family
10. He's great with computers - it's like having live-in tech support.
11. He reads prolifically.
12. He likes to teach our children things.
13. He sees when I'm feeling overwhelmed and helps out without being asked.
14. He's a safe driver
15. He's very smart
16. He's faithful
17. He humored me at let me keep the stray cat I found
18. He brought home another stray cat to keep her company
19. He hasn't thrown them out of the house yet, even though he'd really like to
20. He even cleans their litter box regularly
21. He's a super Dad to our children
22. He rarely complains
23. He likes my cooking
24. He has a good sense of humor
25. He's very hard working
26. He gets up early to shovel the driveway when it snows
27. He's very self-disciplined
28. He occasionally recommends girly movies he thinks I'll like
29. He's usually right
30. He let me pick both our children's first names
31. He's supportive of me
32. He picked up and moved us so we could be closer to our families
33. He tells me I'm beautiful
34. I think he really believes it.
35. He tells our children he loves them every day
36. He'll drive 25 miles to get my favorite icecream
37. He has beautiful blue eyes
38. He passed them on to both our children
39. He gets up with the kids at night
40. Without being asked
41. And never complains about it
42. He hates golf
43. He keeps our finances in order - never a late payment!
44. We like playing the same board games
45. He loves God
46. He's extremely organized
47. He empties the dishwasher every morning
48. He tells me he loves me regularly
49. He lives like he means it
50. He's everything I ever wanted in a husband, and a lot of things I didn't know enough to want, but am really glad I got!

Saturday, February 24, 2007

My Bible

"This is my Bible;
I am who it says I am.
I can do what it says I can do.
I am going where it says I will go.
God’s word is life and breath to my soul.
God’s word is milk and meat to feed me.
God’s word is seed to grow my faith.
God’s word is a path that I can follow.
God’s word is a light to guide my way.
It is the rock on which I stand.
When I read God’s word it brings me joy.
When I study God’s word it gives me wisdom.
When I memorize God’s word, it purifies my heart.
When I quote God’s word, it defeats my enemies.
When I meditate on God’s word, it anchors my life.
I am a Bible-believing follower of Christ!"

Quote from Pastor James MacDonald,
Harvest Bible Chapel, Rolling Springs, IL

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Just a tip

A little free advice to the married ladies out there:

If it happened to be Valentine's day, and you happened to be feeling romantic and decided to call your husband on his cell phone and proposition him. . . dial carefully.

'Cause if you happened to be off by one number, and happened to say what you had to say to some strange man before you realized it, it could be quite embarassing.

Theoretically, of course.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007


I had a rough week last week. A very rough week. One that culminated in a particularly stressful day Friday. By the end of the day, I just wanted to crash and forget all about it. After we got the kids in bed, I sent B out for pizza and ice cream to drown my sorrows (yes, I know this is neither healthy nor an appropriate coping mechanism). He came back with two types of Ben and Jerry's plus mini Dove bars. I love that man!

We sat down to watch a movie while we ate. As we're scrolling through the free movie titles on On Demand, I say, "I want to watch something light and fun tonight." We come across My Girl and B says, "That's a cute movie. I think you'll like it." I was a little skeptical when I read the description: "A young girl coping with the death of her mother during childbirth." How "light and fun" can that be? "It was cute," he assures me again. After all, Dan Aykroyd is in it. It can't be too serious, can it? I'm thinking Ghostbusters, Trading Places, Spies Like Us. So we proceed to watch it. And I'm actually enjoying it; it is "cute" -- that is, until you get to the last 30 minutes or so. All the sudden I hear Brian say, "Oooh. I forgot about this part."

"This part" being where the heroine's beloved childhood playmate is attacked and killed by a swarm of bees. How can you forget that part?! This part is heart-wrenching! We're left watching a heartbroken, lonely little girl and a grieving mother burying her only son. I'm bawling on the couch, fighting the urge to go get Jeffrey out of bed so I can hold him.

In his defense, it had been about 15 years since B had seen the movie; and at the time he was a single college guy. I guess these things make a different impression when you're young and unattached than when you're an overtired, emotional mother.

It took nearly the entire carton of Ben and Jerry's to cheer me up, but I think I'm ok now.

Go, Baby

H has taken off crawling this week. It's like having our very own Roomba. You put her down and she works her way across the carpet, picking up all the lint and crumbs as she goes.

Tuesday, February 6, 2007

Writer's block

Nothing like letting a few people know I have a blog to dry up all my blogging ideas!

Sunday, February 4, 2007

Pancake art

My mother is an extraordinarily talented woman. She is especially gifted artistically. Unfortunately for me, she was quite stingy in bequeathing these talents to her offspring. She makes better-than-store-bought cakes; I can frost cakes in a single color. She can draw most anything; I can draw stick figures (sort-of). She makes the most amazing playdoh creations; I make playdoh snakes.

Usually her talents are a blessing. For instance, she helped resolve a toddler crisis in our home recently. Somehow J got it in his head that he needed a brother. Not just any brother, but he needed a brother Quincy. Early one morning he told B this, who flippantly replied, "You'll have to talk to Mommy about that one." So J comes charging into my room where I was still sleeping and began pleading for a brother. I was dumbfounded. He was literally weeping, heartbroken, begging for a brother Quincy. I tried as best I could to explain that it wasn't all that simple. That even if we did have another baby, it would be years before he could play with him - and it might not even be a him! J even offered to take H back and trade her in for a brother. I could see we weren't getting anywhere with this. After several hours of trying to console my grieving boy, Grandma arrived and saved the day. She simply sat down and drew a life-sized Quincy for J. As relieved as I was that he was no longer heart-broken, it was a little disturbing to see that his new best friend was a piece of paper. They play together, eat together, read together, and sleep at the same time (Quincy gets stickers over his eyes to close them).

All that to say, since J spends a great deal of time with Grandma, he has a skewed perspective of what adults can do. News flash: Just because Grandma can do it, doesn't mean Mommy can!

One thing J and I like to do together is make pancakes for breakfast. I try to be a fun Mommy and make interesting shapes for him. I'd do the usual simple things: letters, mickey mouse, hearts. Lately, he's been upping the standards. Grandma can draw the Little Einsteins, Mommy should be able to make them out of pancake batter. "Mommy, can you make me Leo, and Quincy, and June, and Annie?" "No, I can't," I reply quite honestly. I was able to satisfy him the first time by making Leo's baton (straight line with a ball on the end - I can handle that) and Quincy's trumpet. But the next time, he was insistent. He wanted Leo. I figured, why not, I'll give it a try. Worst case, the pancake will come out looking like a blob and make a good Rorschach test. I was pleasantly surprised with the results. So here for your viewing pleasure are "The Little Einsteins Pancakes:"

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Rocket, Leo, Leo's baton, Big Jet, Quincy's trumpet.

Who's Your Mama?

Apparently I need to clarify a few things for my daughter!

Saturday, February 3, 2007

Learning to be a Better Child

Being a mother is rewarding in a lot of ways. One of the many things I've gained from it is a better perspective on God's relationship to me as His child. I've been exposed to Christianity my whole life, so I was intellectually familiar with the fact that God loves me as a Father; that He disciplines me because of that love; that it breaks His heart when I turn away from Him. I also have wonderful human parents who did their best to love and provide for me. So I had witnessed good parenting up close. But you never really know what it's like to be a parent until you are a parent. It makes me want to be a better child of God.

It feels wonderful when I walk past my daughter and she smiles with her whole face in delight and reaches out for me to pick her up. It's amazing to cuddle with my son before he goes to bed and just listen to whatever is on his heart. In a similar way, it must thrill God when I desire to be with Him, to pour out my heart to Him, to delight in His presence. But sometimes I rob Him (and myself) of that by being distracted by less important things, or allowing myself to be satisfied with much less that His greatness.

I sometimes feel unappreciated as a mother. My son hasn't quite grasped contentment and gratitude yet. He has everything he needs, and quite a bit more, but he doesn't see it that way. He walks around the house saying, "I need Roley. I need Dizzy. I need Scrambler." I prepare him lunch and he complains because he wanted it on the purple plate, not the red plate. And it reminds me of how ungrateful I can be toward my Heavenly Father. He has given me all I need, and blessed me with so much that I don't really need. And yet I frequently complain about what I think I need more of (sleep, appreciation, ease, etc.) God is graciously patient with me, even as I am sometimes not with my own children.

I am so thankful to Him for giving me the blessing of motherhood. I pray it makes me a better child of His.