Because some people need a new hobby...

Sorry, I've been saying that a lot, especially tonight, and had to use it again. Anyway, Jessica tagged me because she is curious as to the contents of my purse. Nothing exciting, I can assure you.

The examination of my purse definitely illustrated the need to clean it out. Ugh. I haven't gotten to that post-tax season project. Oh well, I'll just add it to the list.


Here it is: My lovely Ann Taylor Loft purse. I adore Ann Taylor. Sadly, it's not often in the budget.


The trash in my purse. Not all of it is trash. I have to sort it. Of note is promotional material for the job, grocery store receipts, wedding favors, school programs, church programs, phone messages, pay stubs, envelopes from pay check, and activity reports from work. Exciting stuff.



Ahhh... here we are... the goods. The mystery of what this particular woman keeps in her purse. Men, take note. This is a sacred shrine few every get the opportunity to view. Moving clockwise from the top, we have... index cards. Doesn't everyone keep index cards in their purse? In my case, I had grand visions of using them to memorize Scripture, and while I do occasionally look at them, well, it's more off than on. The dark brown thing with stuff sticking out of it is my wallet. The stuff sticking out are checkbooks. I just finished out one checkbook and am on a new one, but am carrying the old one until those checks clear. On top of the wallet is a scrunchie. A must have for people with lots of hair. Next to the wallet is my planner (mostly covered by my journal). You can see papers sticking out of it-it's got a neat feature-those little black things are semi sticky, so you can keep invitations and things right handy. In the middle, you see a pretty book with flowers. Okay, so I'm not going exactly clockwise, but you know what? It's my blog, doing it this way makes sense to me, so there. Anyway. That pretty book is my journal. If you look closely, it even says journal on it. Mostly, it's a lot of notes-sermon notes, notes to myself, story notes, phone numbers, thoughts, anything I need to write. I even have a few pages I let the kiddos draw on to keep them occupied when I had no other alternative. Also notice that the journal is spiral bound. This is very important. I must have lined, spiral bound, pretty journals. I've had this one since Sept. 2006. It's almost time for a new one. Also, notice that in the spiral of the journal is a pen. Part of why I need a spiral is to hold the pen. That way, I can always find it. I'm a genius, I tell you, genius. On top of the journal is my purse Bible. I used to get irritated because I wanted a Bible and didn't have one handy, so I invested in this little beauty. It's an ESV, which is an easy to read version. This is my only ESV Bible, so I use it a lot to compare with my other versions. On top of the Bible is my daughter's glove. She gave it to me a while back, and there was a really cute reason why she wanted me to have it. I forget the story, so now I just have the glove. Also on the Bible is a granola bar. I often get super busy and forget to eat until I'm nearly sick with hunger. Always carrying some form of sustenance helps cure that. But who am I kidding? I'm a mother to a pack of vultures, so they usually eat it before I get to it. Next is my phone. Enough said.

The clear plastic bag next to it is my drug bag. Again, probably pointless that I have it, but I guess it makes me feel better. The little blue thing in it is a coin purse that I use to carry loose pills like Tylenol. The medicine bottle is my migraine medicine. The pink thing overlapping my migraine meds is lip gloss. Above it is a white thing-that's my allergy nasal spray. Next to the lip glass is a tampon. Self explanatory, I'm sure. On top of the tampon is a packet of vitamins. Below the vitamins, I have a blue mechanical pencil and a pen. Underneath that, though you can't see it, are my allergy eye drops.

So why is my drug bag pointless? Well, because of my herd of terrorists. My pill bag is usually empty because the baby likes to get into it. Migraine meds, I have them, but they make me loopy so I only take them when at home or if hubby's driving. Allergy nasal spray. I pay fifty bucks for that stuff, and the other day, while I was in the shower, baby dumped it out all over the table and was tracing patterns with her fingers in it. Lip gloss. Everything inside the bag is slimy because the baby, thinking she was smart about sneaking my lip gloss, took it, used it, didn't close it tightly enough, and it leaked. Tampon. I have to replace them faster than I can use them because the baby likes to hand them out as party favors. If she's in my purse, I can guarantee she's into my tampons and is handing them out to someone. Vitamins. HA! I don't know why I have them. I always intend to take them, but never get around to it. Pencil and Pen. Actually useful. I put them there so I always have one handy, but I usually forget they're there. Eye drops. See note on nasal spray.

OH! I should have looked through it before describing it. On the side facing the ground, I also have a single serving of crystal light drink mix (for when I'm bored with my usual plain water), medicated lip balm, and clear lip gloss.

Missing from the purse picture is my camera (because I was using it) and a bottle of water (because I'd just finished it).

So there you have it. All you ever wanted to know about my purse and then some.

Thoughts on Grace

I have a hard time with grace. I'm often caught up with the idea of justice. Bad people deserve bad things. Good people deserve good things. Which makes sense in our world, but not in the Biblical world view. Loving your neighbor, forgiving people who do wrong to you, and all that jazz. It sounds great, in theory. And you know, I'd love for people to do that for me. I get frustrated because I don't see it practiced enough in the world.

Yesterday, I was at the grocery store, minding my own business. Then, WHAM! A lady backs into me. Actually, it wasn't so much as a wham, but a tap. I was shocked, and for an instant, kind of mad. But then, I saw the look on her face, as she realized what she'd done. The woman was mortified. And something about it made me think that she might have even been a bit devastated. In that instant, I wondered how I'd feel in her shoes. I'd have been terrified, both of dealing with an irate person I'd just hit, and of the expense of repairing damage. Especially because we really can't afford to deal with something like that.

We got out of our cars, and she kept apologizing, almost on the verge of tears. I told her it was no big deal. The part of the car she'd hit was one that was already damaged. It would have been easy to say, sure, give me your insurance info, and we'll get it all taken care of. I have no way of telling what she did, and what damage was preexisting. Probably the insurance company would have taken care of most of it, if not all of it. I realized, though, what she needed at that moment was a little bit of grace. To hear me say, "It's okay," and move on. I didn't accept her insurance info, nor did I accept her name and contact info. I didn't want it. I wanted her to go home with the knowledge that there is some grace left in the world. I wanted her to sleep soundly, without having to worry if her insurance rates would go up. I wanted her to know that not everyone is looking to scam someone else.

That particular damaged door has always had a little quirk in terms of not closing properly. It's now much worse. Will I have to get it fixed now, after all these years of dealing with the quirk and keeping it duct taped? Probably. Will it cost me money that I really didn't want to spend? Probably. But the weird thing is, I'm okay with it. Because I keep seeing the look on the woman's face as she realized that I honestly and truly did not want to go after her, and it's simply priceless. If I'd gotten her information, my door might be on its way to getting fixed, but I'm not sure I'd have any peace about it.

On the drive home, I kept thinking about grace. Actually, I haven't stopped. Because as much as I get frustrated on the lack of grace in my life, I realize that I have been given the greatest gift of grace of all: salvation. But more importantly, I realized that the things I'd like to receive ought to be things I'm good at giving away. I decided that I need to give more grace, even when it hurts. Starting small,of course, but I have to start.

Today, it was dealing with some people I don't really get along with, but rather than dismissing them as I usually do, I approached them at their level, on things they could understand and relate to, and showed them kindness that I knew they didn't deserve but thought maybe it would make them feel good. That probably doesn't make much sense, but I don't want them to someday come across my blog and think, wow, she really can't stand me. It's just that I can't relate to these people, and they've hurt me in the past. But I thought, the whole point of grace is showing love to your enemies, especially when they don't deserve it. So I built them up, and in two separate and random encounters, I got back tiny pieces of my soul. I don't know if I'll ever have a really good relationship with either of these people. Frankly, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to stand up and say I like these people. But I hope I can get to a place where I get good at showing love to them.

You can all be sick now

I got EVEN MORE done today!!

B had a soccer game today, which was fun. Then, we went to lunch at Mickey D's with my FIL. By midday, I'd given up hope that after my super productive day yesterday that I'd accomplish anything useful. I shouldn't say that. It's never a waste of time to spend quality family time. Which we've had a lot of lately. Yay us!

However, with everything that needs to get done on the house to put it up for sale, I'm feeling a bit under pressure. Our goal was May 1st, and there's no way we'll make it. Mid-May, hopefully. I'd just really like to be settled in something new before school starts.

After Mickey D's, we visited a couple of open houses. I was pleasantly surprised by what's out there. It's starting to seem more reasonable, as well as more real, that we could possibly have a new home. Also, as much work as I thought we needed to do, one of the houses we visited was nowhere near as nice as ours. I still think we need to do the work, but I'm not feeling as hopeless as I had.

We returned home, I did all my online work, and then went to the store. Lots of fun, I know. No great sense of accomplishment yet.

Then, we had dinner. I know, everyone is so impressed with what an interesting day I had. However, after dinner, we got to work. I cleared out the area where I've got my grape vines as well as the raspberry patch. That Man and I both have the scratches to prove it. My flowerbeds are ready to be tilled so I can replant and put in some new mulch. So YAY! We got a lot done.

When it got dark, I read the crits on my proposal, and I was pleasantly surprised that they didn't say it sucked. Well, actually, one of them did use the word, "sucked," as in I got her sucked into the story. Wahoo! I love it when people say that.

I also realized something interesting. One of my CPs is this bizarre grammar Nazi who points out all this bizarre grammar crap that I disagree with. Well, just in case she was right, I looked it up. Just so you know, she was right. But this is where the something interesting comes in. I use all the British usage and grammar rules. As a kid, I had a hard time spelling certain words because I always wanted to spell them the British way. It took a lot of training to do it the American way. It's weird, because I never went to a British school, or have a background that would suggest that I'd be inclined to British usage. And then it hit me... almsot all the books I read during my formative years were all published in Britain. They are still my "comfort" books. So now I have to re-train myself on something I thought I had down cold. Well, I do. If I were in Britain. Ugh. Thank God for "find and replace."

So I fixed all that, and I am pleased to say that my proposal is complete and sent. Yet another great accomplishment.

Not sure what tomorrow will bring, other than I have to bake a cake. I've been wanting to bake one, tomorrow just gives me an excuse to do so. :) As for other things, well, we'll see what hurts. My rear end is killing me from the bike ride, and given all the laboring I did this evening, I may hurt too much tomorrow to do much else.

Feeling pretty accomplished

Today got off to a rocky start. AKA everyone and her sister thought I shouldn't be allowed to sleep in. I even had a shouting match with God to let Him know that I needed to sleep in. I didn't exactly sleep, but I wasn't awake either, so I'm not sure who won.

However, I got up, checked the boards, fixed a broken thread, and got more of my ducks in a row. Yay me. Then, I wrote a long, inspiring email to a friend who's selling her house with all the things I'm learning about selling mine. Sadly, she's just selling the land, not the house.

Because I was being such an inspirational friend, I decided to practice what I'd preached, and started cleaning my own pit. I spent THREE hours on one room. It's so purtyful, though. I even steam cleaned the couch. Yes, I am sick. Very sick. Of the mess! Actually, I did the couch because the little lady dumped strawberry syrup all over it while I was in the shower.

To get the troops to cooperate, I put the baby down for a nap and told my older daughter that if she helped me, we'd have family time tonight and go for a bike ride to McDonald's. Well, she held up her end of the bargain. She even washed windows for me. They're streaky, but she's so proud-she went on and on about how happy Daddy was going to be to see what a good job we did. The second he arrived home, she pounced on him to show off what we'd done.

After dinner, as promised, we took the kiddos for a bike ride to McDonald's. About a 1/4 of the way there, I wanted to die. Note to anyone dumb enough to bribe their kids: make sure it's not an activity that'll kill you. The first bike ride of the season should not be several miles long and forcing you to scale The Hill of Doom.

When we got 1/3 of the way there (remember, we still have to ride back), That Man offered for us to just ride to the nearby gas station and get a treat there. But see, I promised them ice cream at McDonald's. Maybe that doesn't sound like a big deal to anyone else, but having lived a lot of my life with broken promises, I just can't do that to my kids unless I have no other option. I decided to tough it out. We stopped by my FIL's house (halfway to McDonald's) for a visit, and arrived at McDonald's. I think I lost the feeling in my butt around that time.

The fortunate thing about our timing is that they're closing this McDonald's May 1st for renovations, so if I'd told them that we'd do it another time, they'd have been really disappointed. We got our ice cream, and the kiddos gobbled it up. For the ride back, That Man took pity on me and put the baby's trailer on his bike. Which already had B's bike attached to it.

This is what I hate about being married to a jock. For those of you who don't know, he used to play soccer at a pro level. He can lay around on his butt for months and then get out there and do something, and you'd never know he'd been laying around on his butt. I'm dying, and he's like, I'll tow both kiddos and sets of equipment. Worse, he was racing circles around me. You could tell he was dying at how slow I was going. He had to keep waiting for me to catch up.

I got most of the way up The Hill of Doom and then had to walk the rest of it. But I did more than I thought I could, so I'm still proud of myself. And even though he makes me sick, I'm pretty glad I married a guy who is in good enough shape to carry the load.

When I got home, I felt pretty good. Okay, I felt like I was going to die. My legs hurt. My butt hurts. My lower back hurts from the cleaning I did earlier. My hands hurt from the little squeezy thing on the steam cleaner. But let me tell you! I have a spotless room in my house. AND I rode SEVEN miles! Wahoo Me!!

Now, I'm off to take a bath and pray that my CPs get back to me with their thoughts on the proposal due TOMORROW!!!

Thursday Thirteen #6: Thirteen Good things about today

Thirteen Good Things about Today 1. I did not kill my children, nor did the sitter kill them. 2. I did not kill That Man. In fact, he and I went on an impromptu date. 3. At said date, we ran into some old friends and ended up having a very nice dinner. 4. Finally, after many recommendations from friends, we ate at Pei Wei. 5. I wrote. 6. My proposal is almost done. 7. I also went to work and got a lot done there. 8. I ran all the errands I needed done, including a few I'd been procrastinating. 9. The kiddos and I had Sonic for lunch. 10. The school sent a note home saying the kiddos wouldn't have any homework for the rest of the year. (Although I do wonder... what then, is the point of the next month of school?) 11. Hubby's paycheck was more than I'd expected. 12. Our Verizon bill was less than I'd expected. 13. I finally found a sitter for Monday.

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Snoring through church

The "little lady" was on a roll again today.

I got out of the shower this morning, and she sat on my bed, watching me. "Mom," she said in a very serious and urgent tone. "Yes?" "Since I'm a little lady now, I need to get big milks like yours." Yes, in our house, they're called milks. I breastfed each girl for two years, so all they know is the function. I smiled and told her that when she got bigger, she'd get some milks, omitting the part that mine really weren't all that big, and given our genetics, hers probably won't be either. We'll save that particular diasappointment for puberty. Of course, that answer didn't satisfy her, and she informed me, "I going to get milks now, because I'm a little lady now." Great logic. We'll see how that goes for her.

After I took her sister to school, I had to stop by the office to do a quick thing with one client that should have taken 20 minutes. Several hours later, we raced off to big sister's school conferences. However, while we were at mommy's work, my little lady made sure everyone in the office knew she was a little lady. She paraded around the office with her Starbucks. (YES! I bribe my child with Starbucks. It's incentive to be good while I have to work, and YES! It works. And no, for all you worrywarts, she does not get coffee. We do vanilla steamers.) Occasionally, I bribed her with chocolate. And animal crackers. Which sort of worked. For the first hour.

Hour number two, she discovered the vacant office. Which was good, because she wanted to play ring around the rosy in the middle of the area where we had clients. Not good. My boss, who is a grandma, and thought my terrorist was well-behaved, said it was just fine for her to play in the vacant office. The little lady thought she was da bomb. She spun around in the chair, tried to call Timbuktu (I ended up unplugging the phone), and even informed me that "I'm busy, you no turb me," as she slammed the door in my face.

Hour number three, vacant office had lost its charm, so the admin gave her a whole box of papers that needed to go into the shredder box. For thirty minutes, she sat there, putting papers into the box. The little lady strutted around the office like she was the Big Kahuna. And no one, I mean no one, had better try putting anything in the shredder box. That was HER job. However, she grew bored, and I spent the last half hour (trying to clean up a return that someone else did that desperately needed fixing) finding ways to keep her semi occupied.

We escaped the office with sanity semi-intact and no dead bodies in our wake. I put her in the car seat, and she very smugly informed me that she had the keys to the office. Which meant she stole someone's keys out of their desk. D'oh! I returned the keys, and one of my coworkers chased me down, informing me I had a phone call. It was hubby. I informed him that I was racing out of the office to pick up older child because she had school conferences and I begged him to meet us there.

Fortunately, he did, and I arrived at the school with two minutes to spare. As big sister showed us all she was learning, little lady also had to show us her skills. She can count, read, and disrupt the universe without breaking a sweat. Not bad for a girl who will be three in just over two weeks.

After the conference, we decided that big sister, who had been working very hard, had achieved one of the goals we'd set together, which meant going to buy her prize-a movie she'd asked for months ago. Store #1 did not have it. So we decided to grab some dinner before heading to church. Little lady ate half of Daddy's dinner, a portion of Mommy's dinner, and a portion of big sister's dinner. Granted, we didn't order her a dinner of her own, but she usually doesn't eat like that. Apparently, being the executive little lady makes a girl hungry.

We decided that after dinner, we had time to stop at store #2 before church. As we pulled into the parking lot, little lady fell asleep. Little lady had missed her nap. I found the movie, we arrived at church on time, and little lady remained asleep. Daddy stayed in the car with her for a while, and when worship started, he came in, a sleeping little lady in his arms. Halfway through, I convinced him I needed a turn to hold her. Yes, we fight over who gets her when she's sleeping. She's so calm and peaceful. As opposed to when she's awake and terrozing the planet. Then, we fight over who HAS to have her.

I sat there, worshipping God, a beautiful little lady in my arms. In the midst of a very lovely Crowder song, little lady lets a big old snore rip. She spent the rest of worship snoring. When it was over, she jerked awake and was ready to go play with her friends. I got back to my seat, and Dave started talking about beauty. I leaned over and whispered to my husband that the worship experience I'd just had was pretty darn beautiful. I know it sounds strange, but I am crazy in love with the sound of my little lady's snores. Sometimes at night, I sneak into her room just to listen to her snore.

Maybe it's because we have days like this-where she is so incredibly adorable, and yet so incredibly high maintenance and I alternate between wanting to hug her and wanting kill her-that I have to take time out to appreciate the incredible creature God lent me. Or maybe not. But I love the satisfaction of knowing that she can fill her days with so much activity that at the end of the day, she will collapse into our arms, and blissfully snore. Some people might think it's disrespectful to snore through church. But in our family, there is no more beautiful sound.

My inspiration

It's been a busy crazy day. Huh. Sounds like every day in my life.

Items of note: I was accepted into the writing clinic I was freaking out about last week. Sadly, this means I now have four days to get my project ready. So why am I blogging about it rather than doing it? Because silly person that I am, I can't find the link to the really good nonfiction proposal site. Tomorrow, though, I'm going to spend some quality time at my beloved Starbucks, drinking tea, and getting down to business.

I admit, though, there's still some fear. I've been looking at other proposal sites (but not the good one!) and I'm feeling intimidated. Who am I to write a book about God? What do I have to say that will make any difference? Am I really a good writer? I sit here and doubt myself, and then I think about my girls.

Today, the baby decided she was a "little lady". She pranced around, sporting a mesh pink bathing suit cover up (backwards), a pair of light blue shorts, and pigtails. Carrying her little purse (I was too scared to see what was inside), she spun and danced. If you asked her why, she said, "because I'm a little lady." I don't know where she got the idea about being a little lady, but it was obvious that she delighted in being one.

I thought I'd play along, so I called both girls my little ladies. Immediately, B straightened and said, "oh, no, Mom, I'm not a lady. I'm just a kid." The little one smiled, slurped her soup, and said, "well, I'm a little lady."

All day long, everything was about being a little lady. What amazed me was that the child I most often refer to as a terrorist did, in fact, act like a little lady.

I spend a lot of time just watching my girls. Maybe that's why I never seem to get anything done. I'm so fascinated by these creatures. They began as microscopic cells in my body. And every day, they transform into something else. I love to see where their little minds take them.

Who gives my daughter the right to say that she's a little lady? Who gives her the right to think that she is a beautiful, special creature? On the days she decides to be a kitten and make me her owner, how is it that she could possibly think that she could be one?

It's the same voice that tells me I must write. The creative part of our Creator reflected in us that whispers of all the magic we can make. As children, we can be or do whatever we can imagine. Anyone can be a little lady. Or a kitten. Or a stripey. Or a dragon. And even a writer.

Yet as adults, we've been told all the practical reasons why we can't be those things. And for some reason, we believe it. We forget that we were created in the image of God, our Creator. It's natural to want to create. It's natural to follow in His footsteps. So why do we believe the lies that say we can't?

From the time we begin to create, we're told all the reasons why we can't. Why it won't work. How it's a silly idea. My youngest daughter thinks she's a little lady. Tomorrow, she might decide to be a cat. Or a puppy. Her sister is going to be a cowgirl horse rider, although she won't turn down the opportunity to be a dragon rider. I've never seen a dragon myself, but I hope she does.

I'll be spending the next few days working my tail off to make my proposal shine. Not so much because I want to do the work, but because I want my little lady and my cowgirl to grow up believing that it's okay to follow in the footsteps of their Father. I want them to see that even when it seems difficult, they should press on. I don't want them to be too afraid to chase their dreams.

Even though it's not Thursday Thirteen, I feel compelled to make a list

Things I learned today:

1. My daughter is horribly addicted to her computer. Her best friend called to ask her over for a party and my daughter said no because she wanted to play her new game. We are now tightly monitoring her computer time.
2. Why people get divorced over moving/remodeling. Today's endeavor in getting our house ready to sell has highlighted our rather drastic personality differences (like he has absolutely no sense of putting logical order to things). If he survives the process of gettting a new house, I will probably never be mad enough to kill him.
3. That if I let the discouragement over my writing get to me, I will spend the rest of my life kicking myself for being a useless slug.
4. My daughter is turning into a good little soccer player. And she's FAST! (Definitely takes after Daddy there)
5. People miss me when they haven't seen me for several months, even people I don't generally think of as someone who would care.
6. The new cure-all for me is steam infused with cinnamon, thyme, and cloves. It got rid of my horrible chest cold, and since I'm out of allergy medicine (because the little terrorist dumped it all out the other day), I thought I'd try it. It works!
7. My youngest daughter is not as much of a monster when big sister is not around egging her on. When she's not destroying the universe, she's also a very kind and compassionate child who's going to make a really good mom someday. (At least if the way she plays with her babies is any indication)
8. My dog appreciates being prayed for. However, it did not make my husband break out in hysterical laughter as I thought it would.
9. I have at least twenty boxes of books, and three large bookcases to still box up.
10. I learned some really scary things about something I'm not ready to talk about yet, but when I am, well... just be prepared.
11. I watched a rather interesting television show on Jonestown and learned a lot about the events and cult mentality that I'd never seen before.
12. I also watched a program on sex during the Civil War. (Civil War nerd, tyvm) The most interesting fact was that at one point in the war, over 40% of the soldiers had a venereal disease. This problem was solved in Nashville by legalizing prostitution and forcing them to be licensed and treated for disease.
13. That if I don't kill That Man, the reality of actually being able to sell our house and move into a new house is actually much closer than it's ever been. We looked at a perfect house today, and B was a little disappointed that we weren't moving right in.

Thursday Thirteen #5: Thirteen Highlights/Lowlights of the tax season

Thirteen Things about Highlights/Lowlights of the Tax Season 1. This is the first year no one has proposed to me. Maybe my age is finally catching up with me. 2. I did not hit most of my numbers from last year, although I did increase one set significantly enough that the rest won't matter. I hope. 3. I became "The Online Supervisor" which supposedly gave me power, but mostly got me a lot of ribbing and no increase in pay. 4. I coined the term, "Illiterate Slugs", as a reference to my minions who could not read their own online contract, forcing me to print and read it to them. 5. I gathered a number of funny new tax office stories for a book I'd like to call Tales from the Tax Office. Sadly, only people who've worked as a tax preparer would understand it. Everyone else would be insulted. Yet another book I won't sell. 6. I was kidnapped and taken to Happy Hour, then forced to return to work. 7. I learned that my children can survive on cereal and milk alone. 8. I also learned that I really do have physical limits and if I'm not careful, I could do some serious damage. 9. I reconnected with some awesome friends. 10. For the second year in a row, I had clients puking at my desk. 11. Best idiot customer call: "Can you tell me my AGI from last year?" "Did we do your taxes?" "No, I did them myself, but you should be able to look it up on your computer." 12. I mastered the look of terror that has people scrambling to get out of my way. 13. I managed to find time to play hooky and hang out with That Man.

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Ransomed Dreams by Amy Wallace

Yet again, I'm part of a blog tour, which means folks have probably read dozens of interviews with Amy and read summaries of her book. So here you are...



I really liked question 3: When you read Jeremiah 31:3 about God's everlasting love, what does that stir up in you? If we lived like we believed this verse, how would our actions show it?

For me, this is such an important verse, because so many times, it's easy to question God's love. Certainly, I saw the characters in this story growing through that question. In the questions they asked, it ultimately boiled down to: Does God love ME? While the primary questions revolved around why God allowed things to happen, in my opinion, asking that question often means, "if God loves me, this bad thing would not have happened." So in watching the characters dealing with that question, it really brought out the sense that yes, God loves you always, no matter what. I think if we all truly lived and believed this verse, we wouldn't as much about the whys.

If we understood the depth of God's love, the everlasting quality, it would be a lot easier to live in confidence, without fear. That's why it's so important, as the characters in this book learned, that you have to go to God's word and see what He has to say. Check your reality with the truth of God.

It is FINISHED!!!!

Yes, my beloveds, I am speaking of tax season!!!

Okay, so technically, it's not until tomorrow, but tomorrow, I am off to spend the day with Tess and Mo, then we're going to a Todd concert. Wahoo us! I'm so excited!!! So sadly, I will not be at work. *inserts evil laugh*

I definitely had a good end to the season. I think I'll end up with a nice bonus. :)

I think I'll go pass out now.

Fake

One of my favorite tshirts is a Joy Whitlock shirt that has FAKE written across it (in honor of her fabulous album). Tonight I feel like I need to wear that shirt.

I'm trying to put together a workshop application and as I try to put together clever words to convince the people that yes, I really do belong in the workshop, all I can think of is how fake it is. How fake I am.

Wahoo. I want to write and do all this great stuff, blah blah blah. I'm so freaking great. Blah blah blah. Doncha just love me?

Here's what I should be saying: Hi, I'm a messed up mess of a person who harbors delusions that I could actually be a writer, and I'm thinking I'd like to attend your workshop to find out. However, I'm quite scared that if I do attend your workshop, you'll expose me for the fraud I am, or at least send me off home to find something more meaningful to do, like scrub my kitchen floor.

Nah. I just sent off my chirpy, "I'm so great," garbage, and I'm putting it in God's hands. If this is what He wants for me, it'll happen. Otherwise, I'm holing myself up in my room and doing whatever I want. HA! I whined as I also stressed and quickly got my Genesis entry sent off tonight. Yep. It's all about tonight. Did I mention today was also our home group's seder (delayed, but still good)? Why does my universe all have to collide on April 15th?

I started a really whiney email to my crit group, but decided I sounded way too depressed and figured that if people read it, they'd be watching a little too closely for comfort. The truth is, I'm tired of working hard to fit into all these silly little molds. And I'm tired of failing. God didn't create me only to have turn contortionist and become something I'm not. Or maybe I've just been in my heroine's POV too long. Nah.

Mostly I think I'm back in the weird place I always end up at. I've spent my whole life wondering where I belong, and just when I think I've comfortably found that place, I'm reminded that it's not the place at all. So here I am. Back to the point where I'm starting to realize that the place I thought I belonged is not the place I belong. Which makes me wonder what the whole point of this exercise is.

The reality is that this is not my reality. To close the seder, I read Revelation 21:1-4 and talked about how, even though we have our Messiah, there is still a home, a promised land, we are longing for. A reunion with our Creator and our Savior. I seek, but I do not find, because it is not for me to have in this lifetime.

I live in this state of longing, and it seems so far from ever being fulfilled. Am I fake, or am I delusional, in all these attempts of finding satisfaction where there will not be any?

Okay, I just spent another paragraph doing a rather fine job of whining some more. I rather excel at whining. But I deleted it and spared you all. Wahoo me. I guess, even as real as I try to be in my blog, I'm still a pretty big fake.

Thursday Thirteen #4: Thirteen Reasons why I need my own bathroom

Thirteen Things about why I need my own bathroom 1. So I know where my toothbrush has been (today it was coated with antibacterial soap-not tasty) 2. I'm the only member of my household who doesn't miss the toilet 3. I'm the only member of my household who values a ring-free tub 4. Because I don't want to see everyone else's dirty underwear on the floor 5. So my children stop passing out feminine hygiene products as party favors 6. To prevent my children and dog from spreading used feminine hygiene products around my house 7. So I can lock myself in there without fear of small child wetting herself 8. Because I don't enjoy inhaling the noxious odors emitted by the rest of the family 9. So I can FINALLY be assured of always having toilet paper 10. To keep my nice bath salts sacred and not used on My Little Ponies 11. To keep slimy kid stuff off my towel 12. So I don't have to clean out the army of toys to have room for me 13. Because all the weird and unrecognizable stuff in the communal bathroom completely grosses me out!

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So many reasons for homicide, so little time...

One of my funny quirks is that big things don't make me homicidal. It's the little things. Like when the whole house is a disaster and That Man can't put his dish in the dishwasher. Or the ear-piercing shriek the littlest one lets out after she's completely destroyed everything else. I don't get mad at all the big stuff. However, when the straw that breaks homicidal me's back hits... watch out.

The other day, I got a letter from the utility company that we were behind on our bill and that our power would be shut off if I didn't pay by today. Because I haven't felt well, I didn't deal with it until yesterday. I was a bit confused, because I thought we were paid up. However, we also got a past due notice on the cable and phone. Again, a bit confusing. I had my monthly cry fest over how much our bills are and how little we have to pay them. I was sure I paid them.

But yesterday, I called the utility company. And spoke with a very condescending young man who gladly took my check over the phone and then offered to put me in touch with their payment plan people so that people like me aren't so strained by their bills. Oddly enough, over the summer, I signed up for an energy conservation program that was supposed to LOWER my bills over the winter. In case your utility company offers the same, I'd like to point out that my bills are the highest they've ever been. I think I've been had. After I got off the phone, I had a good cry because I don't understand where our money is going. And I really didn't need some condescending jerk telling me the value of paying my bills.

Well, today, I sat down to balance our account so I can figure out where the money to pay the cable is coming from, plus making sure I have enough to cover the mortgage check, plus cover a couple other bills due now. Imagine my surprise to see that my payment to the utility company cleared my account DAYS ago. AKA Before they sent their "we're shutting off your power" letter. AKA Before Jerkface so condescendingly made sure I knew I was a deadbeat. IT'S BEEN PAID. So I thought, maybe someone stole my bills out of the mailbox, erased the name and cashed them. Fortunately, my bank lets me view cleared checks online. Guess who endorsed the check? The utility company.

I suppose the good news is that I'm now AHEAD on those bills. The bad news is that I used money intended for other bills that are actually due now to pay for what I thought was a past due bill. You know, so they wouldn't shut my power off.

As for the cable company, I'm ignoring their nasty letter. I have that cleared check as well. I tried to go online and do an account online thing, but they don't recognize my password or password hint. Apparently, I don't know my mother's maiden name. Color me stupid, deadbeat that I am.

And to think, I was going to blog about the idiot lady at the haircut place who gave my daughter a horrifically bad hair cut (the day before picture day) and now I've got to figure out a way to make her crooked and too-short bangs look somewhat presentable.

I think it's really good that God didn't give me any smiting powers. I'd do an awful lot of damage.

I have only one thing to say

I FINALLY have my website up. It's not complete, but at least I have something other than the "under construction" sign. You can check it out at www.danicafavorite.com

Thursday Thirteen #3

Thirteen Things about why I love That Man 1. My death threats don't scare him 2. I have life insurance on him (but not enough!) 3. He thinks that last statement is funny 4. He adores me 5. He thinks I'm beautiful 6. He's a great dad 7. He's got cute buns (and don't you DARE look at them! They're mine, all mine!) 8. He supports all of my dreams 9. He loves me unconditionally 10. He balances me 11. He's the father of the LiLi 12. He's a man of God 13. His dreams inspire me Links to other Thursday Thirteens! 1. (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!)

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The Latest in the Health Saga

Okay, so FINALLY, I met with my doctor.

My ultrasound showed a blockage in my gallbladder. The duct is completely blocked with an immovable object. Right now, there are two possible explanations: One, I have a gallstone lodged that needs to pass. Two, I have a polyp blocking it. If it's a stone, we can leave it alone. If it's a polyp, I need to have my gallbladder removed.

He did another blood test today to see if my bilirubin levels have increased since the last test. If so, he's going to fast track me to see a specialist to have a procedure done to find out what the blockage is. It's a VERY invasive procedure, involving anesthesia and getting scoped down the esophagus. YUCK! If my bilirubin levels are the same or have gone down, I still am going to see the specialist, but we'll have more time to get this to resolve on its own.

I've been on a detox diet for the past couple of weeks and am coming off that with fewer symptoms, so that's good news. I'm going to my chiropractor tomorrow and the last time I was in, he did some acupressure that really helped, so I'm hoping that maybe he'll have some other suggestions. He's also got a nutritionist in his office who's looking up some other things I can do. The hope is that this is a stone, and we can get it to pass. That way, I don't need the procedure OR surgery.

I am feeling better, not completely, but definitely enough that unless I get worse, I'm going to do everything I can to avoid surgery. Most people just have it removed, but I'm of the opinion that it's there for a reason, so taking it out is a last resort.

Anyway, that's where I'm at. Thanks for your prayers.

And GROSS! I'm turning into the little old lady who goes on in detail about her health stuff. Someone just shoot me.

What's really important

Right after I posted on Friday, my husband called and said I needed to call my dad-it was important. Which had me scared, because my dad has never called and left that message. So I called him. It turns out my grandma is in the hospital. I called her, and we talked for a while. Mostly, I apologized for not being in better touch. I love her so much, but in the busyness of life, I get caught up and forget.

It was funny, though, because she asked me if I was happy. And I told her yes, I have a good life, a good husband, a beautiful family. But she said, no, that wasn't what I asked. I want to know if you're happy. Because that is all that is important to me. I'm an old woman, the remaining hopes and dreams I have are for my family. That they'll be happy.

It touched me on so many levels. When I talked to my dad, he said that when she gets out of the hospital and is safe to travel, he's flying her to see him. I told him that I want to come too. It's funny, I keep saying I want to go visit her, but then I think about the expense: airfare for everyone, hotel, car rental, and I decide we can't afford it. And then I was reminded of the fact that I spend hundreds of dollars on writing conferences.

Do I really value my grandma? As much as I value my writing? I keep saying that I'm doing it for her, because she's the one who always encouraged me with books. But will my selling a book matter to her if she's stone cold in the grave without knowing how much I love her? So I made the commitment to hubby: as soon as Dad gets her out to see him, we're going out there.

Take the time to look at the things you say are important to you-do your actions, and where you spend your money, reflect it?

Trusting in the Sovereignty of the Lord

I've been dealing with a bit of a personal struggle over the past few weeks. And no, I'm not ready to share the details. So let's set this up in a very basic way, and even if you think you know what I'm talking about, you probably don't, so please don't bug me with your guesses. I'll tell the full story when I'm ready. Anyway, the message that has kept coming to me over and over these past weeks is that I need to trust in the Sovereignty of the Lord.

God and I have been wrestling over a particular desire I have for my life for at least a year now. I've had it dangled in my face, taken away, and even once, been given the opportunity to have it, but God said, "not yet." So I didn't take it. Over the past couple of months, everything has been falling into place and I truly feel like He's saying, "GO!"

But I haven't gotten the thing I desire yet.

Every day, I sit in this state of "now? is it now yet?" and not knowing. The one thing God keeps whispering in my ear is that I need to trust in His Sovereignty. Which I understand. And I do trust Him. And I do trust that He's got something great planned. But the waiting sucks.

I think about Abraham, and I wonder, when God promised him a son, how long did it take before he started asking, "now? is it now yet?" and not knowing. I wonder how long the Israelites sat in Egypt, calling out to God, "now? is it now yet?" and not knowing. I don't imagine that any of them ever imagined that God's timetable would be as long as it was. God didn't exactly say, on this date, I will fulfill my promises. Even with the return of Christ, as we all ask, "now? is it now yet?", Scripture tells us that only the Father knows.

But we still ask. We still impatiently wait and wonder. I admit, there are days when I'm a bit depressed that "now" hasn't happened yet. I long for it so badly, and it's still not here. It occurred to me, though, that while longing itself isn't such a terrible thing, we can waste an awful lot of time focused on it. When we focus on the longing, we try to circumvent God's plan by using a slave girl to get the promised son. And even though God will still use our reliance on ourselves to fulfill His purposes, I wonder how much we steal from the joy of getting "the thing" by doing it our way.

There are so many ways I could easily manipulate the situation to my advantage right now. At times, it's tempting. But then this voice whispers in my ear, reminding me to trust in God's Sovereignty. He's not a God who can be manipulated. He has a plan, and I have to trust in it, even if I don't know all the hows and whys and whens. I could live with the first two. But the last is a killer. Especially for a semi-tamed control freak who hates surprises.

Trust in the Sovereignty of the Lord.

How crazy that we even think that it would be otherwise. But we do, don't we?

And yes, I know I'm rambling. You haven't gotten one of these posts from me in a while. I can't help it. It's one a.m., I'm sick, and for the life of me, I can't sleep. I'm dealing with high levels of stress and exhaustion, and the one thing I need, I can't have. But even that, He will use for His purpose.

Whatever you may be waiting on, it's coming. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not for ten years. Maybe not for a hundred. Maybe not for a thousand. Maybe not for ten thousand.

He is a faithful God who keeps His promises. Just because it doesn't happen on your timeline doesn't mean it won't happen. He is, after all, a Sovereign God.

It's Friday already?!

I'm not sure where my week went.

Monday, we went to the zoo.
Tuesday, I'm not sure what we did.
Wednesday, we went downtown.
Thursday, we had MOPS and then met That Man for lunch.

And here we are at Friday. I have sick kiddos, so that means we're off to the doctor's.

Also on the agenda: Find a sitter for Sunday, get my bio sent out, work on picking up the house, work on edits for the Genesis, and try not to kill anyone. LOL Maybe not. I'm not laughing. I just found out that a project I worked HOURS on got destroyed by a computer glitch and I have to re-create the entire thing.

The good news is that a couple of things I was worried about remembering to get done have been completed, so I've got those items checked off the list.

Alrighty then, Mt. Laundry has yet to come alive enough to do itself, and I've still got a couple of hours left before we have to leave. If you don't see me soon, send a search party. You have no idea how out of control Mt. Laundry is.

What's eating you?

For the past week, I've been trying a new approach to my stomach ailments: changing my diet. I've gone on a detox diet in hopes that it'll clean out whatever is messing up my system.

List of things I CAN eat:
whole grains
chicken
turkey
fish
vegetables
fruit

List of things I CAN'T eat:
processed food
dairy
beef
pork
salt
sugar
anything that tastes good
oil of any kind

Until I started this diet, I never thought I was ruled by food. However, I am going NUTS!! I do not use salt in my cooking, so I didn't think that would be a big deal. Except that salt is in just about everything. I rely heavily on processed food-quick meals to get my family going. And dairy?! I could care less about milk, but losing my beloved CHEESE is killing me!!

It's also the simple things, like being able to make and eat a simple sandwich. No mayo, mustard, ketchup, or any kind of dressing for me. ICK. Why bother?

There's also a lack of variety. On one hand, it speaks of my inability as a cook, but on the other hand, I've been searching for good recipes with foods I CAN eat, and there's not a lot out there. We've eaten so much rice, I think my kiddos are going to be speaking chinese any day now. My husband even gagged down some mahi-mahi because fish is on my list and I was getting sick of poultry.

Mostly, though, I miss things like the occasional bit of chocolate or sweet treat. I miss the crunch of all the "bad" snack foods. I miss the way carbs fill me up. I miss not having to eat every couple of hours because health foods just don't last as long.

Fortunately, it's only a two week cleanse, and even though I had a day of being "bad" on Saturday (one doughnut, two slices of pizza-hey, I was at work! It was free food!), I am officially done THIS Saturday. I won't go back to being completely bad, and it was nice finding out things like making my husband eat mahi-mahi really won't kill anyone, but dangit, I'm going to eat me some REAL food!

Look! There I go again!

Can we tell I'm not doing much stopping lately?

The good news is that tomorrow night I am getting a massage. YAY me!

I don't really have anything to blog about, just a few thoughts that are still in germination process. It's hard for anything to take root when you don't take time to slow down. Which is probably a good topic to talk about. In my last blog, I mentioned how my daughter was so quick to show signs of "mommy neglect". I think, though, we often fail to recognize "me neglect".

And yet the signs are there: fatigue, feeling run down, being stressed, getting sick more often than usual, being irritible, and feeling overwhelmed.

So when you're rushing to and fro (like I seem to be doing all too often!), take some time to slow and down and take care of you.

Where have I been? And Perspective!

This week was our MOPS group's annual toy and clothing sale. I've been madly getting things ready to sell and then WHAM! Time to work my little tail off. The trouble was, I didn't take enough time off work, so it's been dashing here and there at five hundred miles an hour.

When I got home last night, I had to have a "talk" with the bigger child about some rules she'd broken during my time dashing about. We talked, I grounded her, and then she ran into her room, crying. Then the baby came to see me.

"Mom, you have to have a talk with me."
"Why?"
She snuggled up to me, batted those sweet little lashes, and said, "Cuz I been bad."
"What'd you do that was bad?"
"I bad. You have to talk to me."
I realized then that it had been almost two days since I'd taken the time to snuggle with my little one and just talk to her. But I also thought it hysterically funny that she'd come to the conclusion that since "being bad" had gotten her sister some one on one time with mom after two days of nothing, that she'd give it a shot.
"What did you do that we need to talk about?"
More snuggling and batting of eyelashes. "I bad."
The resident suggested that perhaps the "bad thing" the baby had done was drive her nuts. I asked the baby if that was what she'd done wrong.
In a very earnest voice, she says, "Yes. I do that. I bad. I grounded, too?"
This is about the point where we all had to fight to keep from breaking out in hysterical laughter.
"You're grounded too."
Just like her sister, she jumped up and ran to her bedroom, crying.

After we stopped rolling on the floor, I had a sobering thought relating to the lack of time I'd spent with her. Two days. That's all it took for her to figure out that being bad would get her "mommy time". And it's true that the less time I spend with them, the worse they behave.

I know I'm not a perfect mom, but I'd like to think that I'm pretty good at the job. As much as I think that these guys are my priority, it amazes me how something so simple makes me refocus. An innocent girl, willing to claim she did something bad just so she could get some one on one time with mommy.

There are so many things on our to-do lists. But the one thing we need to make sure doesn't get shuffled out of the picture is that special time to let our families know they matter. It's easy to say we're doing it for them-working extra hours so they can have nice things, or volunteering to help out on a project that raises money to help them. But ultimately, none of those things matter if our kids don't have us.

The results are in.... sort of

I forgot to say, until Rae asked on my earlier post. So since I know she and a couple of lurkers want details, here they are:

Blood test results say my white blood cell count and bilirubin count is on the high side. My hemoglobin was off, too, but I can't remember if it was high or low-she said it meant I was dehydrated.

For the non medical types (aka me), it means that she thinks I may have gall bladder issues, but it's most likely minor, as my symptoms are not as severe as really bad cases would indicate. Sooo... on Monday, I go in for an ultrasound to be sure.

In the meantime, I had to go to the chiro to get adjusted for normal stuff, and I mentioned to him what was going on. He worked my gall bladder pressure points, and while I'm not feeling 100%, I am definitely feeling a lot better.

Shopping!!

We're having our annual Reader's Choice Awards, and in the spirit of cyber fun, I'm searching for the perfect dress. And because I'm cyber shopping, I have all the money in the world. Which means I'm shopping Saks.

So here are my choices: (sorry for no pics, couldn't get it to work. You can see them on the links though)
Dress One
Dress Two
Dress Three
Dress Four

Any Favorites? I admit to being fond of the long flowy styles, but the short one seems kind of fun. Of course, I'm not into the whole fashion thing, and I never know what looks good on me. I'm mostly a jeans and t-shirt short of girl. But sometimes, it is fun to take a look and see what it would look like if I were a more girly girl sort of girl.

Ooops!

So what happens when you finish your taxes and find out that you owe the IRS?

A recent article in our local paper gave some information about what happens when you owe. Unfortunately, it had a lot of misinformation and one of my coworkers sent a letter to the editor to (hopefully!) correct it. So here's my stab at clearing up a few common misconceptions about owing the IRS.

If you owe the IRS, it is NOT better to mail in your return. You should still efile. Unless you have to do a paper return based on forms that can't be efiled, ALWAYS efile. I've talked to people who've seen the inside of the IRS mailroom. Um, yeah. Efile. Please.

Also, if you owe, even if you efile your return today, you still have until April 17th to pay. So don't delay filing just because you owe money.

Finally, if you owe money, there are different ways to pay the IRS. You CAN set up a payment plan with them. OR you can also pay by credit card. Don't not pay them because you don't have the money. Send what you can. If you don't make an attempt, that's when you face the scary stuff, such as having future refunds taken away, or having worse things like tax liens happen.

To take my mind off of things until Monday...

I got a voice mail from the doctor-my test results are in. She says, "there's nothing I'm overly concerned about, so we can talk Monday unless you feel worse."

Could someone please tell me what a doctor means when there's nothing she's overly concerned about? The whole "overly" bit has me a little nervous. Does that mean she's concerned about something, but since I'm not in imminent danger of dying, it can wait until Monday? Because the other doctor in the office will usually call and say, "Your test results were normal," if everything is just fine.

So what is wrong with me????? Why couldn't she say on the voice mail? I'd really like to stop feeling so icky soon.

But, because I don't want to keep worrying about this (even though you know I probably will), and because my sweet sister is on strike until I share more pics, here's some fun pics to enjoy.


This is actually a funny story. We were at a friend's house, and the baby was sitting there, playing pinball, and I hear this sound of spilling water. I ask her if she spilled her drink. She grins and says, "No Mom, I peed." So I was more than a bit mortified, but the people were very nice about my daughter peeing on their upholstery. Sadly, I hadn't brought her diaper bag, since it was her first accident in weeks. So, we rigged up That Man's coat to cover her parts. However, on occasion, the back slipped, revealing a rather cute bottom.



And today, we went to the park. It was such a beautiful day, so after I ran errands, we went to play. Gotta love those girls.

Thursday Thirteen #2

Thirteen Places I'd like to Visit



1. England
2. Europe
3. Madagascar
4. Joni's farmhouse
5. Israel (again!)
6. Turkey
7. Japan
8. China
9. Russia
10. Egypt
11. All the hot springs in Colorado
12. All fifty states
13. Africa



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All I need to know I learned in Kindergarten

I've been making some observations about kindergarten, and the more I see, the more I realize that it truly is the foundation for the development of our children.

You'd think that kids have a whole lifetime to develop who they are. What I've found is that even in kindergarten, it's pretty obvious who's going to succeed and who won't. Maybe some of the kids will beat the odds. But sadly, I think a lot of the kids are stuck with the lot they drew unless something changes. I don't think this is because of some natural talents they do or don't have. It is completely due to their parents.

I help out in the classroom a couple times a month. What I have observed is that the children who are the smartest, the most adjusted, the best behaved, and yes, advanced, are the ones whose parents are actively involved in their child's education. The kids I see struggling the most are the kids whose parents do not help in the classroom. And yes, I know, not everyone can take time off work, etc. But the sad thing is, those are the kids who also don't bring in their completed homework folders. Every day, we drop off and pick up the kids from school. The parents I know by name, or at least by sight-their kids are the "smart" kids. The kids who struggle-I've never seen their parents. Or, as is the case of one parent I want to kill, they stop in the middle of the street, open the car door and shove the kid out.

I think about that mom a lot. I think about her kid a lot. I pray for them. See, mom is relying on the school system to raise her child. It's the school's responsibility to teach the child, to socialize the child, to tell the child what's important. We have such a sense of entitlement-that the schools and teachers are going to give our children what they need because that's their job. This child never brings the homework folder back to school. I know this because I've never seen the child carrying it, and the child does not have a backpack. Just walks in to get educated. The trouble is, if you aren't doing the work at home, even though it's not graded, you don't get the practice needed to move ahead.

But even more than the academic development, I've had the opportunity to witness the social development of these children. My daughter is not afraid of sharing her faith. I've watched her friends ask her (and me!) questions. It's amazing the sort of things a child will share while coloring a picture. One little girl touched my wedding ring in amazement that I would have such a beautiful piece of jewelry. She was even more amazed that my husband would give it to me. Adding to her amazement was that we'd gotten married before we had our daughter. Being around this little girl gave me the opportunity to show her a side of life she had no idea existed. It was outside her paradigm to think that people got married and then had children. I didn't have to preach Jesus at her (and you should definitely be careful doing so in a public school setting), but I still was able to show her a different side of life.

Another little girl asked me about church (the kids have sharing time, and my daughter shared what she did in church the previous day). She told me that church was a boring place where you had to sit still and listen or else you got in trouble. She was amazed to know that it could also be a fun place. And that Jesus wasn't just about following the rules. I didn't have to preach to her-but when she asked if there really was a church where you could have fun, I gave her an answer. I know the kids in my daughter's class who love Jesus, because they all proudly told me that after my daughter shared her day at church. I even know the ones who are cynical about Jesus. How sad that 5 and 6 year olds have developed that cynicism.

I say these things because I want to let you know how important it is to be involved with your kids. Even in kindergarten, I am learning about the facets of these kids and their personalities. I see what my child is growing up around. The opinions that are being shared with her. How she handles and influences those opinions. Even in kindergarten, there are the kids who begin to conform and find the group of friends to do everything exactly alike. I can see the rebellion already forming in some of these kids.

I can't protect her from all the dangers of the world. When she grows up and is facing challenges on her own, I can't shelter her from the wackos out there. But I hope that I will have given her the right tools for dealing with situations outside her normal scope of life. I hope that she will be equipped to be a positive force for change in the world around her. But I also hope that by being there, some of the kiddos who would otherwise not have hope would have a spark of something good in their lives.

Yick Yick Yick

Today I'm doing the mega scrub and clean house thing.

For the past month or so, I've been really sick with a horrible stomach yick. Just when I think I'm feeling better, BAM! It's back. So yesterday, when it was worse than ever, I went to the doctor (finally). They quickly ruled out pregnancy, and then took a whole lotta my blood to the lab for testing. I won't get the results until Friday, but here's hoping it's nothing serious.

The depressing thing about going to the doctor is that they always weigh you. Fortunately, they were too worried about the fact that I can't seem to keep my lunch down for more than a day or so to notice that I've gained 6 pounds. Wahoo. Now I need to lose 16 pounds. Maybe I can get some of it off before I get yet another lecture. Yick.

Could someone explain how, after spending the past month puking my guts out every couple of days, I can GAIN weight? Yick.

And so, in the interest of being proactive, and given that I feel well enough to get out of bed today, I'm cleaning. There will be no germ left alive by the time I get done. Ahhh, the sweet smell of disinfectant...

I want my lithium back!!!

Hubby and I went out of town over the weekend. We visited Hot Sulphur Springs , which is a special place for us-we spent part of our honeymoon there. As we were checking in, the lady in front of me was going on and on about how she was so glad to be there for a spa day to get away from the kiddos. The nice man at the counter smiled and said, "Our water has a lot of lithium, so after a while of soaking, you'll be feeling great."

He wasn't kidding.

I think I forgot what it felt like to so completely relax. There's a lot of merit in taking time to go someplace where you have no choice but to relax. The resort has no television, no Internet access, no phones (although my cell did have a signal), just nice hot springs and comfy beds. I didn't get most of my Thursday Thirteen list done, but since I couldn't do a thing about it, I didn't care.

It felt so good to just relax with my honey. Even though it borders on TMI, I will say that we had a better time than we did on our honeymoon. A MUCH better time ;)

And then I got home. The house was still a mess, the kiddos were still screaming, and I still have to go to work tonight. The list of things to do did not change, but you know, I feel a lot better about doing them. Although it would be really nice to have some of that magical water bottled up so I could dump it in my bathtub for a reminder soak now and again.

Thursday Thirteen

ThirteenThings I have to do tomorrow 1…. Go to the bank 2. Pay bills 3. Remember to send kiddo to school/pick kiddo up at the right (special) time 4. Laundry 5. Pick up house 6. Buy groceries 7. My JOB! 8. Work on Bible Study 9. Get things together for Purim/bake cookies 10. Get ready for romantic weekend 11. Shave legs 12. Order books 13. WRITE!!! Links to other Thursday Thirteens! 1. (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!)

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FINALLY!! (I can't believe he's dead)

Today, you get two for the price of one. :) I watched last week's epi of Veronica on Monday, and then got to watch this week's on Tuesday. I've been down and out with the stomach crud, so I'm slowly getting around to everything. Life ala Danica: Just when you think you're smooth sailing, someone pukes.

Anyway, I totally did not see the death of Lamb coming. Although I have to say that his last words were sooo lame. That ruined what could have been a beautiful moment. But oh well. There's finally a decent Sheriff in town.

And, as you can well expect, I am irritated at the whole Logan/Parker thing. First, I don't like Parker. She gets on my nerves. Second, I hate how they make him so fickle as to chase after someone else so soon. Third, remember the whole Veronica and Logan forever thing? Get with the program already!!

Also, I realize they did this to attract new fans who can follow the story, but I'm tired of the mini arcs. I preferred the big arc over the season deal. And, I think they keep dropping a lot of the little threads, which irritates me. What can I say, the writer in me demand satisfaction. But really, wouldn't any human being pick up on this and want to have everything neatly tied up?

How sweet the sound

Tonight, I put the kiddos to bed, and we said our prayers. I try to let the kiddos lead and pray how they feel led. B said her prayers and then little K followed. It was mostly a lot of jibber jabber and a few intelligible words here and there. My heart was so warmed to hear this beautiful little girl having a conversation with God. I had no idea what she prayed about, but isn't it cool that God knew exactly what this little girl was saying to Him. As tickled as I was to hear her little baby voice, can you imagine how much more so He was?

I've got a lot more perspective right now. I was thinking the other day about one of the books God's been asking me to write that I keep saying I'm strong enough to write. I started thinking about it and where I want to go with it. One of the lessons I'd learned that is going into this book is that even though my intentions were toward God, and I'd been doing all the "right" things, the one thing I wasn't doing was reading my Bible.

Funny, in the midst of my struggles lately, that's the thing that I've been neglecting the most. Lesson not learned.

But the cool thing is that I worked on my Bible study this afternoon and it was awesome. My beloved Beth did not disappoint. One of the things she pointed out was that Abraham walked with God for 100 years and during that time, he messed up a lot. Does the name Ishmael ring a bell? And yet, he's listed as one of the faithful. A friend of God. Isn't that cool? How awesome would it be to be considered one of God's faithful friends?

It doesn't matter if we mess up. What matters is chasing after God and believing Him no matter what. As I was reading, one verse jumped out at me: Hebrews 10:23 "Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful."

I am waiting on so many promises from Him. Part of what has been frustrating me is that I feel like I have been waiting FOREVER on some promises from God. But I look at Abraham and how long he has waited on promises from God. All of which have been fulfilled or are being fulfilled.

Thursday, in our Bible study group, we talked about how long we were waiting on promises, and it occurred to me that one of the things I'd been praying about had been answered. I was filled with this utterly twitterpated feeling for my husband. At that moment, I realized how deeply I love him. Which is funny, because I've never really been twitterpated over him. I love him, but it's not like it's this crazy giddy love you read about in books. I've spent a lot of time asking God for it. So there we were, talking about promises we're waiting to have fulfilled, and I can't explain it. I literally felt like some love-crazed teen over him.

Answered prayer.

So today's lesson really got me going-reminding me that He will keep His promises-in HIS time. Just as He answered my prayer about wanting to be giddy in love with my husband. Odd timing, but His timing. Good thing we have a romantic weekend coming up. ;)

Which brings me back to the sweet prayers of my little girls. They, too, are some incredible answered prayers. Promises God made me long ago. Promises He will keep, and continue to keep. And who knows, maybe that sweet little voice, speaking words only God could understand, was making some promises of her own. Even though I am still longing for the promises to be kept to me, I am hungering for something else-to see that little girl grow up and see in her own life, that God keeps His promises. Which will lead to another even sweeter sound. That baby voice, all grown up, sharing those same promises with her own little baby voices. Who will share with their little baby voices. Who will share with their little baby voices.

One day, when we're all up in Heaven together, those little baby voices are all going to be singing praises together, and some big voice, maybe even that of Abraham or Sarah, is going to say to each one of us, "You were that voice I prayed for." A sweet sound indeed.

Costly Spending

The most expensive money you can spend is....

Money from your retirement plan.

If you haven't reached retirement age, and you take money out of your retirement plan, you don't just have to pay tax on it, but you'll also pay penalties. A lot of folks think that when they get into a financial bind, their 401K or IRA is the perfect solution.

And then tax time rolls around.

If I got paid based on how many clients gave me the shocked comment at seeing a balance due that "they had taxes taken out", I'd have a nice retirement nest egg of my own. The trouble with people taking money out of their retirement plan, even if they have taxes withheld is that it's never enough to cover the penalty. More importantly, few will take out state taxes, so even if the person is lucky enough to have all the Federal taxes and penalties covered with extra withholding and credits, they end up with a huge State balance due.

It's actually cheaper to take out a loan than it is to pay the taxes and penalties on an early distribution from a retirement plan. If you must raid the good ole nest egg, make sure you set aside more than you think you'll need for good ole Uncle Sam. Otherwise, come tax time, you're going to be in a bigger bind. Plus, when it comes to retire, you're not going to have as much to do it on.

It's been HOW long since I blogged?

I must have a fever or something...

I'm just so busy and stressed and all that. I know, not a good excuse. I'll do better soon, I promise. Life is just kicking me in the butt right now.

I do have to ask, though... why is it that there are some people, who, despite doing everything wrong, treating everyone wrong, still end up smelling like roses and achieving all sorts of success. And then there's those of us who try so hard to do the right thing, who work hard, who do everything we can to do the right thing and apply every success principle we know, and we can't get a break?

I'm feeling a little bitter, I guess. I'm just pretty mad that I work so hard and try to do all the right things and I don't feel like I'm getting anywhere. Just spinning my wheels. I wrote a horrifically depressing email to my friends earlier, and while I am much more rational than I was when I wrote the email and am throwing some of that frustration into concrete plans for change, I seriously have to ask-will it make any difference? As hard as I've been working, even though I've found one smart way to "tweak" it, will I be better off?

Okay, I'll stop ranting. I'm sounding bitter, and well, I am. So I'll go do something productive-like take a bath. I've got the latest installment in The Secrets of Stoneley waiting for me. Ahhh... I love gothics.

Renovating Becky Miller by Sharon Hinck

Becky Miller believes in fixing things: children, friends, mother-in-law, sister, church . . . and her husband. So renovating a run-down farmhouse is right up her alley--the perfect antidote for the pressures of modern life.

But Becky’s pursuit of the simple life is soon threatened. Her mother-in-law moves in, her son finds trouble at school, her sister arrives for a visit, her best friend is acting weird, all while work stresses mount. Worst of all, her marriage is in need of some major remodeling of its own.

Cinematic daydreams provide Becky with heroic drama. Maybe that’s why she escapes into the scenes so often. In real life, everything is a muddled mess.

Who knew one old house could lead them to the brink of bankruptcy? Or that Becky’s physical handicap could threaten to steal their dream?

Can Becky stop fixing everyone else and let God renovate her heart so she can find her own happy ending?

Thoughts on the Story

You know, I could give you my review, but there's quite a few folks out there with some great things to say about this book. I do want to talk about the book-Sharon has some great discussion questions at the end, and I thought, rather than regurgitate what's already been said, I'm going to talk impact. After all, that's why we write books. To change lives. To help people.

1. Remodeling from the Inside Out: Where have you noticed spiritual growth from God's renovation in your life?
Wow. That's an ongoing process for me. I think it's all about pushing the envelope, making me recognize boundaries I've set and allowing myself to go beyond. I think that's why my blog is all about the journey. Every time I've arrived at one place, God shows me somewhere else I'm supposed to go.

2. Family Renovation: In addition to renovating our original lives, God is at work in our family lives. Becky feels squeezed between serving her husband, children, mother-in-law, and sister. What family stresses do you face at this season in your life?
I have a two year old. Enough said. Okay, so there is a lot more to Danica family life than the little terrorist destroying our universe. Throw in teenage stepchildren, a six year old, a dog, and a Man, and I think we can safely say that it's a lot of stress, and not much sanity.

3. Church Reconstruction: Becky's church is experiencing growth. What challenges does this growth bring? What challenges does your home congregation face? How can you support and serve your local church community?
Our church is in a season of change, certainly. We're moving to a new location next week, so there will be some adjustment. We're partnering with another church, and it sounds like there's going to be a lot of great new opportunities for us. In particular, I'm excited that we're going to be doing a lot more events surrounding the liturgical calendar. I've always wanted to do something like that. To support and serve-hmmm... I guess I think I already do some of that by some of the work I do within the church. But certainly, if I saw an opportunity (that didn't stretch me too thin, as Becky Miller had to learn), I'd be willing to do more.

4. Subcontractors: The Support System: Who makes up your support system? Becky's small-group Bible study serves a vital role in her life. Are you part of a trusted small group for prayer, Bible study, and accountability? What steps could you take to find or create this sort of ongoing fellowship? If you are part of such a group, what is working well? What could be improved?
Another tough question. One of the things Becky Miller revealed to me is how imperfect groups can be. I love that the woman I thought the least "friendly" towards Becky came through when she really needed it. I definitely think I've had some unrealistic expectations of my own group, so it bears re-evaluating. One of the things I know I'm missing is depth-something my best friend and I used to have, but our schedules have been so busy lately that we haven't had that good bonding time.

5. Power Tools: Getting a Little Assistance: Becky tries to ignore her physical limitations but learns that she has limits to her time, energy, and strength. Is this a copout or a wise discernment? Lori battles a chronic emotional health challenge she has hidden from her friends. How do you make choices to nurture your physical, emotional, and spiritual health without becoming selfish? Has God been prompting you to make some changes? To slow down, cut back, care for yourself? Or to step out, try something new, and care for others?
Ouch. Um, yeah. God and I have been talking a lot about that lately, and I think that will be a big part of our Lenten conversations. I'll be giving up some of my sleep time (getting up earlier-ACK!) to spend more time with Him. In a lot of ways, there's some expansion and growth happening in terms of trying new things and stepping out. But He's been reminding me a lot lately about the flipside. God's going to have to give me a lot of strength for this one.

So there you have it-Renovating Becky Miller and how Becky Miller is renovating me. Ha ha.

Did I mention there is a worldwide conspiracy against my getting any sleep. Between God and the two year old, the sleep thing is not happening.

Holding back

There's a sad fact about my life that no one knows. I write poetry. Secretly. I haven't written much of late. The interesting thing about my poetry is while I've actually had some awards for it, I've never really pursued it as part of my career. Maybe it's silly, but really, who reads poetry these days?

The other day, I started thinking about a poem. The thing that hit me about my writing is that what made my poetry so good is the raw emotion. I was called into my school counselor's office many times because they couldn't believe that what I'd written wasn't based on personal experience. The emotion was so deep and real that no one believed it was just in my imagination.

I realized, thinking about my poetry, that at some point, I began to hold back in my writing. I was tired of justifying my emotions. I was tired of explaining that the things that came out of my mind. They weren't real, but everyone was so convinced they were. Even to the point of my teachers thinking I'd experienced abuse myself. So I held back.

For a long time, I was plagued with nightmares about the death of my husband. I hated the thought of losing him. It devastated me. When the nightmares began, I started pulling back. I thought it would be easier to lose him if we weren't so close. But still the nightmares came and I held myself back.

I struggled to write the poem that was on my heart the other day because I don't want to access those emotions. I don't want to admit to the combination of hope and despair that I feel at this moment. Then it will be real. Odd, how when I let go before it was not real, and I stopped because too many thought it was. And now, I am afraid to let go and make it real.

I hold back on a lot of things. Mostly to avoid the pain. In doing so, I robbed myself, and others of the joy. It's time to learn to let go.

Pop! goes my heart

If you don't know where that reference came from, shame on you! We went to see Music and Lyrics. Very good movie. I'm going to buy it when it comes out on DVD. I was surprised-Hugh Grant can sing!

Anyway, I know what you all really want to hear about. VERONICA!!!

Another really good epi. Finally, the writers are back on stride. I love how the little girl helped Logan grow up. I still want to wring Veronica's neck for being so hard-hearted.

I think it's interesting that there's so much murder and mayhem happening in that small little college. How sad that I didn't get to experience a single homicide during my college days. I am sick of the whole Dean's murder/suicide thing. Let's get off that merry go round and come up with some answers, shall we?

More on mercy

There are moments when even I don't have the right words to say. Right now, all I can think of are a bunch of bad words. A friend of mine was in tears today because of how a person showed her so little mercy.

She was on her way to get a manicure-a treat someone had given her because she was so stressed out. The place is less than a mile from her house, and her colicky baby was screaming. I've heard this kid cry, and I seriously have no idea how she does it. However, the one thing that calms him is to rock his seat while riding in a car. Since hubby wasn't able to be with her, she had the kid in the front seat. YES, I know you're not supposed to do that. But the poor woman was at her wits' end.

Some guy saw this, chased her down with his car, made her pull over, and berated her for "child abuse." WORSE, he called the police and pinned her car in so she couldn't go anywhere until the police got there. The guy made all sorts of nasty threats, and pretty much told her he was going to do whatever he could to make sure she got what she deserved for being such a bad mom. The police gave her a ticket for the violation, and so far she hasn't had social services call, but she's now terrified that this guy is going to get them to take away her kids.

I am furious. Like I said, having the kid up front wasn't the best choice in the world. But come on, as parents, we have all made some decisions that weren't the best. Sometimes, even when we think we're doing the best thing for our kids, it ends up being the wrong thing.

This stranger, who knew nothing about her, chose to show no mercy. He ignored her tears, ignored the wails of the colicky baby, and didn't bother to talk to her. Didn't bother to find out why she'd do such a thing. He was so intent on proving to her what a bad mom she was that he succeeded.

My friend is a great mom. I see all the things she does with and for her kids. She loves her kids. I've watched her sacrifice and give all for the sake of those kids. Yet this guy, who thought he was doing the world a favor by saving a kid from a bad mom, knew none of these things.

I hate the grocery store. It brings out the worst in parents and kids. I've gotten many a stern look and the occasional lecture because someone didn't like what I was doing to parent my kids. I was convinced one woman was going to call social services on me because I chose to "jerk my child by the arm" rather than let her run into oncoming traffic. I've also watched other parents yell at their kids, spank them, and do a lot of things I personally thought was out of line. But I know what it feels like to be berated when you are doing the very best you can and someone who knows nothing of the situation thinks they can step in and "correct" it.

A while back, there were commercials on the tv about a mom screaming at her kids, so another mom stepped up and asked her to take a time out and back away. The point of the commercial was that we should help prevent child abuse. Having dealt with child abuse cases, I'd like to suggest that while some of the behavior on the part of the parents isn't exemplary, those aren't the parents you should be worried about. It's the ones with kids who meekly sit in the cart, afraid to say or do anything. They're too afraid of their parents to misbehave. (And no, not all well-behaved kids are abused).

But I think sometimes, we're so caught up in trying to stop a problem, we forget about what it means to be human. We forget about being merciful. We forget that these are real people whose lives we are impacting. And not always in the good way we think we're doing. Is there a way we can show the other person a kindness without hurting them? Are we acting out of love? Or is it anger, or fear, or disgust?

Or maybe in a moment of self-righteousness, we think that we're superior to that other person because we would "never" do that. And maybe we would never do "that". But there are a lot of things we would do that are just as bad, or even worse. Two verses come to mind-"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone," and "Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?".

Obviously, people need to be punished for their infractions. But I wonder how different this world would look, if we would showed a little mercy to others. What if, when we saw the frazzled mother with her screaming kids, we didn't give her that judgmental stare? What if, instead of muttering under our breath about what a bad mom she is, we said something to encourage her? What if, rather than watching her struggle to keep her kids under control while juggling groceries and car keys, we asked if we could help carry some of the groceries? Or offered to push the cart? What would happen if we approached someone like my friend, and rather than providing a solution that spoke of judgement, we asked if there was anything we could do to help?

In talking with the moms in our group today about this and other unrelated things, one of the themes that kept coming up is how alone many moms feel. Even though we're all married (I can't imagine doing this without a husband), we all feel like the weight of the world is on our shoulders. Our husbands are great, but they can barely keep our kiddos alive, let alone tackle the other multitude of things on our plate. It is overwhelming. Some days, we want to sit and cry because there is so much to do and we only have two hands and twenty four hours in which to do it. I've told my husband that the thing I need most from him to feel loved is for him to ask, "What do you need?" and when I answer, to do it-no arguing, no whining, no resentful looks, but to have an attitude of, "this is what my wife needs from me, and because I love her, I'm going to give it my very best effort." If I got that, I would feel like the most treasured woman on the planet.

I don't say that to condemn my husband in any way. He has a lot of other fine qualities and I love him. But I think sometimes, when we look at being merciful to others, we do what WE think is best, and don't bother to approach it from the other person's point of view. To see what they really need, and what would help fix the situation rather than make it worse. To truly have mercy, I think we also need compassion, that understanding of who the other person is and the situation they're in.

And who knows, maybe the mean dude lost a child in an accident and feels compelled to prevent another from dying or something. I don't know. I'm just so heartbroken over how this poor woman is feeling now because of some awful, cruel things that a person who didn't bother taking the time to see her as a human said.

I'm rambling. It's late. I'm exhausted.

A piece of the puzzle: Mercy

Sadly, it's got a million pieces. However, I'm quite pleased that it popped right out at me.

My VDay plans were a bust. That Man didn't get home from work until 9 (but he did say the extra moolah was MINE!!), so I didn't get a date or an evening out to write. Instead, I went out for chinese with the other residents of the house and baked cookies with the kiddos. One thing God has been convictine me of lately is how I treat my two year old. Now, I don't mean that I'm cruel or abusive or anything like that. However, the word most commonly coming out of my mouth with her is, "NO!". Don't touch that. Don't do that. Don't stand on the chair. Don't climb on the table. Don't stick your fingers in there. It's exhausting. And then God gave me compassion for this little girl, who is just figuring out what the world is like, and wants to explore it for herself. How hard it must be to always hear, "No."

So tonight, I did my best to say, "Yes," even if it meant that all the cookies have probably been licked by a child with an ear infection. Or at least touched by the finger that was just up her nose or in her mouth, or in other really gross places. We won't think about that. We'll just eat the cookie and be grateful for the little girl who thought it was the best thing ever that mommy said "YES!" to her tonight.

Once everyone was tucked in bed, I dragged out the old Hosea study stuff I've been working on-it's been about three weeks since I've touched it. Sadly, or is it gladly, I couldn't remember the stuff I'd written where I'd left off, so I went to the place I was studying the time prior to that. The verse popped out at me.

Hosea 6:6 "For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgement of God rather than burnt offerings."

He desires mercy, not sacrifice. As a wife and mother, I could go on and on about how I sacrifice for my family. Lately, I've been a little bitter about the sacrificing I'm doing with nothing in return. And certainly, I've had some less than merciful thoughts. Maybe even some less than merciful actions. But I'm sacrificing and that should count for something, right?

Wrong.

He didn't ask for my sacrifice. Jesus already did that. All He wants is for me to be merciful.

Oddly enough, when I started writing this post, it was supposed to be about another area in my life where God is asking me to be merciful. I couldn't figure out why all the enemies from my past were suddenly reappearing in my life thinking we were long-lost best friends. As if all the bad things they'd done to me had never happened. Mercy. Where they have shown me none, I must show it anyway. When I am the most angry, the most ready to do some real homicide, it is when I must be the most merciful.

Dictionary.com has a great definition of mercy:
compassionate or kindly forbearance shown toward an offender, an enemy, or other person in one's power; compassion, pity, or benevolence

Here it is Valentine's Day (at least for 28 more minutes) and we're supposed to be showing love to those we care about. But I wonder, do the hearts and flowers mean anything when there is no mercy? Seriously. Does the snazzy little card you sent your significant other mean a thing after you just tore him a new one because he yet again forgot to take out the trash? Heh. I didn't rip him a new one today-I just mentally griped that yet again, I had to go out in the cold and race the trash man. But does that make it any better? Are my words of "you're the perfect man for me" really sincere if I can't take a second to stop and realize that the poor guy has an awful cold, feels like crap, and would rather stay in bed, but is getting up anyway to work what would become a 14 hour day because he knows it's important to me that we get bills paid off? I am such a gutter snake sometimes. And yet humbled, because he knows this about me and loves me anyway.

Tomorrow is just another ordinary day. I hope, and I pray, that you will take the time to show mercy to someone in your midst. Maybe, it's as simple as putting down the phone and not calling him to rip him a new one for the latest transgression, but taking a moment to realize that even the man of the house has an off day or two or three or four and having compassion on him. Maybe it's finding a gentler way to redirect the maniacal two year old. Maybe it's not calling the rude bank teller's boss and complaining about the poor service, and instead, smiling, telling her to have a nice day, and sending a little prayer that God would bless her. I don't know what mercy will look like for you-but I think if we all took the extra time to show it, it would make a bigger impact on the world than some silly day where we all sent each other flowers, candy, and Starbucks cards.

Happy Valentine's Day?

Okay, so I think this is slightly hysterical. For Valentine's Day, That Man got me a $20 Starbucks card. Now, in order to realize what a hillarious gift this is, you have to understand: he hates Starbucks. Any coffee, really. I think I've shared his "coffee as birth control" philosophy. So on one hand, it's quite romantic that he'd get me something he absolutely hates.

On the other hand, I have to wonder... if he won't come near me if I've been drinking it, not even for a little kiss... why did he buy me a gift certificate for coffee?