Sunday, September 30, 2007


I'm looking to win a new free blog design. Not that I paid for the current one, or anything. One of the requirements to enter the contest is posting the designer's image on my site. I thought about just sticking it in the side bar, but then someone might mistakenly think that she had designed my site already.

And that's probably not the sort of PR she's looking for.

Seeing as I can't even figure out how to get my font colors to match and all.

So here it is, with the disclaimer that she has nothing to do with my current blog appearance.

And in case that doesn't work out, I've also entered Sweet 'n Simple Designs' contest as well. She doesn't have an image to post, but I figured I throw her a free link in case either of my readers would like to check her out.

Friday, September 28, 2007

I once was Blonde, but now I see

J and I were talking about the fact that he would be moving up to a new Sunday School class this week.

Me: I bet some of your friends, like Luke and Arianna and Claire will be moving to the new class with you.
J: Claire? My cousin?
Me: No, the little blonde girl in your Sunday School class.
J: She's Blonde? (thoughtful pause) Why can't she see?


It's been pretty quiet on the Jones blog lately. Part of it is because I've been busy and/or out of town for the past few weeks. The other part is because I feel like I've been "exposed."

In one of his recent sermons, B had a side point he wanted to expand on further, but didn't have time during the service. He had written an essay about it on his blog instead and referred people there for further discussion. When I heard him announce that from the pulpit, my immediate - and pretty self centered - thought was, "Oh no! He links to my blog. All these people are going to find it." Now I'm feeling all self conscious about what I write. I have this self-imposed stress about trying to live up to some arbitrary standard of "pastor's wife." Somehow my posts about potty training and inadvertant prank phone calls don't seem to measure up.

Not that I can recall ever hearing anything critical said about myself or anyone else at our church. It's really a very loving and accepting place. It's just that I have this problem (sin) of imagining I know what people are really thinking. No doubt, they're not even thinking about me at all, let alone thinking what I think they're thinking.

It's a little ironic that I'm feeling this way about my blog because of how I became interested in blogging in the first place. The first time I read a stranger's blog it was a series of posts about this very issue. My friend Julie linked from her blog to Jeana at Days to Come and her posts entitled The Hidden Message (which you can find here, here, here, and here). It really struck a chord with me, because I do exactly what she's talking about all too frequently. I kept reading her blog after that and became hooked. After a while of reading hers and some of the ladies she links to, I thought it would be fun to start one of my own. It was intended to be a means of documenting many of the cute things my children do, keeping a few close friends and family updated on our lives, and perhaps improving my writing skills a bit. I felt no pressure, because these people already know how flawed I am, and the complete strangers who stumble across me probably don't really care.

So now, I'm going to try to get past my pride and desire to have people think only the best of me. I'm going carry on sharing my random thoughts and events in our lives without trying to impress anyone. If you're one of our CBC friends who has stumbled over here, Welcome!

Friday, September 7, 2007

Are you as smart as a . . .

I was chatting with J today. I must have made some particularly insightful observation, because J says, "Mommy, I think you're smart!" I'm suddenly feeling very good about myself and the fact that my son recognizes my intellectual capacities.

He follows quickly with, "Pat the Hammer is smart, too."

Great, I'm in the same mental league with a hammer. Not feeling so proud suddenly.

"Daddy is very smart."

Feeling a little better again.Ok, maybe that's just one really smart hammer.

"And Pumpkin and Snickers are smart."

These are the animals I regluarly refer to as "stupid cats." Not feeling so good about this conversation again.

"And also vacuums are very smart."

Self esteem hits rock-bottom.

So, to summarize, my son feels his parents are as smart as a hammer, the household cats, and a vacuum cleaner. And this is supposed to be the age where they believe their parents can do no wrong!