I'm watching my beloved Joyce Meyer, doing laundry, and trying to pack. Yep, I'm off tomorrow on a fun and exciting journey-a first for me.
I'm flying to Wichita to see Todd Agnew in concert. I've never flown somewhere specifically to go to a concert. There, I'm meeting up with some friends I've met on his message boards, having dinner, going to the concert, and then driving to Kansas City for a weekend retreat at the International House of Prayer. THEN, on Sunday, I get to meet up with Pammer at the service. Wahoo!! Plus, it's very near my best friend from childhood's last known address, so I'm hoping to find a local phone book to look her up and find her again. I miss my Melly!
So it really is a multipurpose trip, and when I initially heard about it, I didn't realize it included going to the concert. But since it does... I chose a flight arrangement that would get me there. :) Which I suppose means I'm not exactly flying specifically for a concert, because I wouldn't be doing it without the retreat, but well, I'm counting it anyway. :)
And yes, I am bringing my Mistress, and yes, I will have some internet access (had to check, you know. Plus, I do have a job to do that doesn't go away just because I do), and yes, I am bringing my camera and the thingy to download the pictures, so if all goes well, you may be treated to some fun pics at some point in the weekend. Or not. LOL
Okay, Joyce is over, I heard the washer finish the spin cycle, so I'd better get motoring...
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Roaches and other offensive creatures
As my regular blog readers know, I love Joyce Meyer. I've been watching her series on Managing Your Emotions . Today absolutely killed me.
See, I talk about praying for my enemies. I try so hard to try to make an effort to be loving toward those who aren't loving toward me. As I've mentioned, I regularly deal with a number of people who, for lack of better description, make my life miserable. I realized how much of it is me allowing them to make my life miserable. They probably neither know nor care that I spend hours obssessing over every slight, intentional and unintentional. And even though I try to turn the other cheek, I spend a lot of time being angry at them.
So there's my favorite roach people I like to gripe about. I seriously do everything I can to be kind to them, even though they treat me like a bug under their shoe (hence the name roach people). But there's still so much anger in my heart still. On one hand, I felt justified by the idea that you can be angry, but in your anger, you shouldn't sin. Because I'm not sinning. I'm just mad.
But a couple of gems smacked me right between the eyes and I've realized just how badly I need to re-adjust my thinking and my emotions. For whatever reason, I decided to go to the Greek on Matthew 5:22. Saying "Raca" to someone? Um, that's the modern day version of all my ranting about the idiots I have to deal with and calling them idiots. But before that, Joyce talked about the verses in 2 Timothy 2:23-24. The not resentful part really got me. And as I thought about it, I realized how resentful I am.
I resent the roaches in my life, the ones I constantly rant about being such idiots, who have no kindness or show any Christian love. I puff myself up because I at least can show them kindness and offer them love. But in remaining resentful, in ranting about what idiots they are, I have negated all of it.
I am a roach.
I have spoken so much in the pain and hurt and emotion of being mistreated by roaches. I have a friend who despises the roaches, not because she's met them, but because I've ranted about the roaches for so long, and how despite everything I've tried to do, they're still roaches. And because of the offense they've given me, she's angry on my behalf. A sign of true friendship, to be sure, but a sign that I am not nearly as mature of a Christian as I'd like to think I am.
It's one thing to pray for our enemies, but as Joyce pointed out in reference to Matthew 5:44, to bless someone means not to speak ill of them, to speak well of them. Can I truly pray for someone I speak ill of? I don't speak ill of them to their faces and certainly not to anyone I think might know them. But I rant day and night about what the roaches have said and done this time. And then I say, "but Lord, bless them."
I am a two-faced roach.
When we pray for our enemies, it's not just a matter of saying, "Lord, I lift this person up to you, or Lord, fix this situation, or Lord, bless this person." No. Somewhere in there, I also need the prayer, of "Lord, clean out all the bad feelings I have towards this person, and help me keep my big fat mouth shut."
Suddenly, I've realized, it's not enough to simply pray for my enemies. It's a good first step. But there's a greater depth involved than just passing on requests that the Lord already knows. It means that I must truly let go of the offense, and replace the resentment with the Lord. Sadly, I think it also means I'm going to have to work on removing some of my favorite words from my vocabulary.
It's a good thing I love a God that's stronger than my roachiest of roachness.
See, I talk about praying for my enemies. I try so hard to try to make an effort to be loving toward those who aren't loving toward me. As I've mentioned, I regularly deal with a number of people who, for lack of better description, make my life miserable. I realized how much of it is me allowing them to make my life miserable. They probably neither know nor care that I spend hours obssessing over every slight, intentional and unintentional. And even though I try to turn the other cheek, I spend a lot of time being angry at them.
So there's my favorite roach people I like to gripe about. I seriously do everything I can to be kind to them, even though they treat me like a bug under their shoe (hence the name roach people). But there's still so much anger in my heart still. On one hand, I felt justified by the idea that you can be angry, but in your anger, you shouldn't sin. Because I'm not sinning. I'm just mad.
But a couple of gems smacked me right between the eyes and I've realized just how badly I need to re-adjust my thinking and my emotions. For whatever reason, I decided to go to the Greek on Matthew 5:22. Saying "Raca" to someone? Um, that's the modern day version of all my ranting about the idiots I have to deal with and calling them idiots. But before that, Joyce talked about the verses in 2 Timothy 2:23-24. The not resentful part really got me. And as I thought about it, I realized how resentful I am.
I resent the roaches in my life, the ones I constantly rant about being such idiots, who have no kindness or show any Christian love. I puff myself up because I at least can show them kindness and offer them love. But in remaining resentful, in ranting about what idiots they are, I have negated all of it.
I am a roach.
I have spoken so much in the pain and hurt and emotion of being mistreated by roaches. I have a friend who despises the roaches, not because she's met them, but because I've ranted about the roaches for so long, and how despite everything I've tried to do, they're still roaches. And because of the offense they've given me, she's angry on my behalf. A sign of true friendship, to be sure, but a sign that I am not nearly as mature of a Christian as I'd like to think I am.
It's one thing to pray for our enemies, but as Joyce pointed out in reference to Matthew 5:44, to bless someone means not to speak ill of them, to speak well of them. Can I truly pray for someone I speak ill of? I don't speak ill of them to their faces and certainly not to anyone I think might know them. But I rant day and night about what the roaches have said and done this time. And then I say, "but Lord, bless them."
I am a two-faced roach.
When we pray for our enemies, it's not just a matter of saying, "Lord, I lift this person up to you, or Lord, fix this situation, or Lord, bless this person." No. Somewhere in there, I also need the prayer, of "Lord, clean out all the bad feelings I have towards this person, and help me keep my big fat mouth shut."
Suddenly, I've realized, it's not enough to simply pray for my enemies. It's a good first step. But there's a greater depth involved than just passing on requests that the Lord already knows. It means that I must truly let go of the offense, and replace the resentment with the Lord. Sadly, I think it also means I'm going to have to work on removing some of my favorite words from my vocabulary.
It's a good thing I love a God that's stronger than my roachiest of roachness.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
And then I have to watch Joyce Meyer
Most of you know by now that I adore Joyce Meyer. You can add her to my "beloved" list. *sticks tongue out at That Man* Anyway, it's my habit that instead of watching the negative news, I watch Joyce (and the program before her). Sometimes I remember, sometimes I don't, because now that we have cable, we have about a million channels and I never remember which is which.
But, because I'm TRYING to make this spiritual life of mine more of a priority, I'm trying to treat her show like I treat my beloved Veronica. *gasp* So it's something I try to do daily, and end up doing a few times a week. So I'm watching tonight's show. It's on managing your emotions.
Aka Danica shouldn't let her homicidal tendencies rule her universe. Crap. Well, actually, I can FEEL homicidal, I just shouldn't BE homicidal. What fun is that?
It made me realize that as much as I want to kill all the idiots in the universe, especially those I ranted about yesterday, it's not exactly what Jesus would do. As Joyce so helpfully pointed out, we can't control the idiots (well, she didn't use the word idiots), but we can control ourselves. We can control how we react. It doesn't mean we can't be angry, we just can't act on our anger. She gave scripture on this one, and I can't remember it. Maybe I'll hunt it up tomorrow.
The other cool thing I got out of it--No, wait, it's not cool. It's not homicide. *shaking head* One of the guys she had on the show talked about his experience counseling people on their marriage. He said that when they said "I don't have those feelings of love anymore," that it was a good thing. Because you're supposed to ACT in love, and the feelings will follow. I've always said that love is like gas. The feeling will eventually pass. But I've heard it said so many times, in so many ways, that love is a verb, and you shouldn't treat it like a mere emotion. Huh. So maybe I should start doing that in other areas of emotional upheaval in my life.
I learned a long time ago that the twitterpated feeling of being married and in love gets old rather quickly. But I love my husband more today than I did when I married him because the love we share now is not based on that. It's based on a lot of things-like commitment, respect, trust, holiness, acting in a way that demonstrates love, rather than some wacked out hormonal thing. Which is probably good, considering we all now know that my hormones are totally messed up. The thing is, I love my husband, even though I threaten to kill him regularly.
Which makes me realize that as emotional as I am, maybe I don't let them rule my life as much as I think. After all, if I did that, That Man would be dead, the world would be completely flattened, and I'd be sucking my thumb on the last remaining non glowing tropical island all by my little self. ICK.
But, because I'm TRYING to make this spiritual life of mine more of a priority, I'm trying to treat her show like I treat my beloved Veronica. *gasp* So it's something I try to do daily, and end up doing a few times a week. So I'm watching tonight's show. It's on managing your emotions.
Aka Danica shouldn't let her homicidal tendencies rule her universe. Crap. Well, actually, I can FEEL homicidal, I just shouldn't BE homicidal. What fun is that?
It made me realize that as much as I want to kill all the idiots in the universe, especially those I ranted about yesterday, it's not exactly what Jesus would do. As Joyce so helpfully pointed out, we can't control the idiots (well, she didn't use the word idiots), but we can control ourselves. We can control how we react. It doesn't mean we can't be angry, we just can't act on our anger. She gave scripture on this one, and I can't remember it. Maybe I'll hunt it up tomorrow.
The other cool thing I got out of it--No, wait, it's not cool. It's not homicide. *shaking head* One of the guys she had on the show talked about his experience counseling people on their marriage. He said that when they said "I don't have those feelings of love anymore," that it was a good thing. Because you're supposed to ACT in love, and the feelings will follow. I've always said that love is like gas. The feeling will eventually pass. But I've heard it said so many times, in so many ways, that love is a verb, and you shouldn't treat it like a mere emotion. Huh. So maybe I should start doing that in other areas of emotional upheaval in my life.
I learned a long time ago that the twitterpated feeling of being married and in love gets old rather quickly. But I love my husband more today than I did when I married him because the love we share now is not based on that. It's based on a lot of things-like commitment, respect, trust, holiness, acting in a way that demonstrates love, rather than some wacked out hormonal thing. Which is probably good, considering we all now know that my hormones are totally messed up. The thing is, I love my husband, even though I threaten to kill him regularly.
Which makes me realize that as emotional as I am, maybe I don't let them rule my life as much as I think. After all, if I did that, That Man would be dead, the world would be completely flattened, and I'd be sucking my thumb on the last remaining non glowing tropical island all by my little self. ICK.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Things that irritate me
1. This stupid lady at my daughter's school. She drives like a maniac, cutting everyone off to get there, and then, rather than parking like a civilized person to let her daughter out, stops in the middle of the street, gets out, goes around the car to the other side to let the kid out, give kid hugs and kisses, gets back in car, adjusts whatever she needs to adjust that takes a hundred million freaking minutes, and then, despite the fact that the lovely folks living across the street had signs posted for the first few weeks of school NOT to turn around in their driveways, she flips a U, realizes she can't make it (and we're four months into school so you'd think she'd have figured it out by now), and turns around in the neighbor's driveway, preventing everyone else from going anywhere until she gets her business done. For the record, her daughter is one of the dumbest kids in the class, so she apparently comes by stupidity honestly. (Actually, she's a very cute and sweet kid. I just want to kill her mother, who does this EVERY day.)
2. My bank. We have a couple of banks, but this one has a lot of our business since they handle our home loans. Not only do they have horrible customer service, idiotic banking policies that make my life difficult, but they seem to think it's fun to randomly change where the night deposit box is located. Not fun when all you want to do is get your money deposited so you don't bounce a check, and you can't find the place to put it.
3. Buying pants. My recent weight gain has made me finally admit that I need new pants. I only have a couple pair I can wear. Sooo... I visited my favorite thrift store and tried on 20 pairs of pants. 3 fit. Did I mention they were all the same size? And yet, I couldn't even get half of them fastened. Do you have any idea how depressing that is?
4. People who think they can parent your kids for you. I realize people are thinking that they're being nice and helpful. But you know, don't freaking come up to me with your "advice" when I'm disciplining my child in the grocery store. YES, you moron, I KNOW it's dangerous for my child to stand up in the shopping cart. Which is what I was explaining to the little terrorist when you decided to stick your big fat nose in and tell me all about it. Maybe "Don't do that" works with your kids, but don't assume that's what mine need. And no, I didn't spank her. You, however, need more than a spanking. Flogging would do nicely, I think.
5. Going to the grocery store. Yes, I just ranted about people who want to "help" with your kids. But that needs its own category. I'm talking in general about the whole finding a parking spot, patiently waiting for pedestrians to pass, carting kid inside, finding the car cart for kid, trying to remember what you're supposed to buy in addition to the "helpful" suggestions kid makes (you know, like lobster and broccoli), maneuvering around the old ladies who think the trip to the grocery store is their own personal social hour, reaching your favorite items that can only be found on the very top shelf, standing in line for eighty years while overtired and overstimulated kid is screaming, getting dirty looks from people who can't understand what it's like to have a two year old, dealing with the sour attitude of the clerk who is terribly inconvenienced by the fact that the strip on the store's discount card doesn't work in the reader, having to explain to the bagger that there still needs to be room for the child in the cart AFTER groceries are loaded, avoiding being run over in the parking lot by drivers who think that stop signs in parking lots are optional, getting kid in car without too much kicking and screaming, loading groceries, getting back OUT of said parking lot, and FINALLY getting home only to realize that you forgot to buy pull ups, which was one of the things you desperately needed.
Welcome to a typical day in my life. Is it any wonder I'm homicidal?
2. My bank. We have a couple of banks, but this one has a lot of our business since they handle our home loans. Not only do they have horrible customer service, idiotic banking policies that make my life difficult, but they seem to think it's fun to randomly change where the night deposit box is located. Not fun when all you want to do is get your money deposited so you don't bounce a check, and you can't find the place to put it.
3. Buying pants. My recent weight gain has made me finally admit that I need new pants. I only have a couple pair I can wear. Sooo... I visited my favorite thrift store and tried on 20 pairs of pants. 3 fit. Did I mention they were all the same size? And yet, I couldn't even get half of them fastened. Do you have any idea how depressing that is?
4. People who think they can parent your kids for you. I realize people are thinking that they're being nice and helpful. But you know, don't freaking come up to me with your "advice" when I'm disciplining my child in the grocery store. YES, you moron, I KNOW it's dangerous for my child to stand up in the shopping cart. Which is what I was explaining to the little terrorist when you decided to stick your big fat nose in and tell me all about it. Maybe "Don't do that" works with your kids, but don't assume that's what mine need. And no, I didn't spank her. You, however, need more than a spanking. Flogging would do nicely, I think.
5. Going to the grocery store. Yes, I just ranted about people who want to "help" with your kids. But that needs its own category. I'm talking in general about the whole finding a parking spot, patiently waiting for pedestrians to pass, carting kid inside, finding the car cart for kid, trying to remember what you're supposed to buy in addition to the "helpful" suggestions kid makes (you know, like lobster and broccoli), maneuvering around the old ladies who think the trip to the grocery store is their own personal social hour, reaching your favorite items that can only be found on the very top shelf, standing in line for eighty years while overtired and overstimulated kid is screaming, getting dirty looks from people who can't understand what it's like to have a two year old, dealing with the sour attitude of the clerk who is terribly inconvenienced by the fact that the strip on the store's discount card doesn't work in the reader, having to explain to the bagger that there still needs to be room for the child in the cart AFTER groceries are loaded, avoiding being run over in the parking lot by drivers who think that stop signs in parking lots are optional, getting kid in car without too much kicking and screaming, loading groceries, getting back OUT of said parking lot, and FINALLY getting home only to realize that you forgot to buy pull ups, which was one of the things you desperately needed.
Welcome to a typical day in my life. Is it any wonder I'm homicidal?
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Crazy Days are Here again...
Well, I made my goal of having The Room ready by Tuesday. Wahoo. It's done. Bathroom-cleaned. Working on laundry for the fam. Have been running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Today, we drove to get That Man's Christmas statue-it's an hour and a half drive, each way. But it's a family tradition, so *shrugs*. We had fun.
Apparently, I'm the teacher extraordinaire, because more of the other folks are observing me and taking note. And they keep telling me how great I am. Which is flattering, but I feel like such a doofus, and like I know absolutely nothing. So it's crazy to have all these people telling me how great I am and wanting to learn from me. These are the people *I* want to learn from, so it's really a wild situation. It also means I'm being asked to do more and I keep saying I want to do less. UGH.
Tonight in our Bible study, one of the gals was talking about a speaker she'd heard at a conference recently. One of the comments really got to me-that the sign of a mature Christian is suffering. Well, crap. It's so funny, as much as I think I'm all about Christ, I am STILL afraid of suffering. "I'll do anything for you, Lord, but please, don't make me do that suffering thing." And then she went on to say that sometimes we take the whole suffering thing too literally. Whatever we are going through that's hard could be considered as suffering.
It's been the three roughest years of my life. I keep asking God, "When is it going to get easier?" And here it is, in some ways getting easier, and yet, it's also getting harder. Figuring out priorities, dealing with challenges that attempt to take away things that are important to me. Yeah, I know, it seems pretty lame. Everyone keeps saying I have every right to be tired, stressed, blah blah blah, but I still look at it all as nothing. Maybe I need to stop downgrading it and accept that this is where I'm at.
In some ways, I am getting better, and certainly I've seen a lot of great things in three years, a lot of miracles, and God doing some incredible things. But wow... it's also really sucked. Am I maturing as a Christian? Heck if I know. I feel like every time I think I'm taking a step forward, I realize just how far behind I am.
My challenge for the rest of the week: find someone to watch the kiddos while I'm away since That Man will be working, buy some new pants that fit, balance the old checkbook, go grocery shopping, pick up our newest family member from the airport, get the house cleaned, prep a couple more classes, and probably a few other things that I can't remember. Ugh. Can I be a shallow Christian and consider this suffering?
Apparently, I'm the teacher extraordinaire, because more of the other folks are observing me and taking note. And they keep telling me how great I am. Which is flattering, but I feel like such a doofus, and like I know absolutely nothing. So it's crazy to have all these people telling me how great I am and wanting to learn from me. These are the people *I* want to learn from, so it's really a wild situation. It also means I'm being asked to do more and I keep saying I want to do less. UGH.
Tonight in our Bible study, one of the gals was talking about a speaker she'd heard at a conference recently. One of the comments really got to me-that the sign of a mature Christian is suffering. Well, crap. It's so funny, as much as I think I'm all about Christ, I am STILL afraid of suffering. "I'll do anything for you, Lord, but please, don't make me do that suffering thing." And then she went on to say that sometimes we take the whole suffering thing too literally. Whatever we are going through that's hard could be considered as suffering.
It's been the three roughest years of my life. I keep asking God, "When is it going to get easier?" And here it is, in some ways getting easier, and yet, it's also getting harder. Figuring out priorities, dealing with challenges that attempt to take away things that are important to me. Yeah, I know, it seems pretty lame. Everyone keeps saying I have every right to be tired, stressed, blah blah blah, but I still look at it all as nothing. Maybe I need to stop downgrading it and accept that this is where I'm at.
In some ways, I am getting better, and certainly I've seen a lot of great things in three years, a lot of miracles, and God doing some incredible things. But wow... it's also really sucked. Am I maturing as a Christian? Heck if I know. I feel like every time I think I'm taking a step forward, I realize just how far behind I am.
My challenge for the rest of the week: find someone to watch the kiddos while I'm away since That Man will be working, buy some new pants that fit, balance the old checkbook, go grocery shopping, pick up our newest family member from the airport, get the house cleaned, prep a couple more classes, and probably a few other things that I can't remember. Ugh. Can I be a shallow Christian and consider this suffering?
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Check the girls!!
Men, I apologize, but you may not enjoy this post, since it may be TMI, but it's one of those need to post things.
Lady friends o'mine (and men, you can ask your wives), when was the last time you did a breast self examination? If you haven't done one in the last month, DO IT. It should be a monthly deal. If you're not sure how to do it, click here .
I wasn't going to go into detail on my "female" problems, but basically, I was having severe breast pain. The doctor examined me and found several large lumps, which he further examined and determined they were cysts, and now we're at the diagnosis of my low progesterone, and you know the rest of the story.
Then today, I got an email from one of my critique partners. She had a weird mammogram, and she ended up being diagnosed with breast cancer this week.
Sobering news. Especially because I realized, as I felt for myself the extent of my cysts, I hadn't done a monthly self exam in MONTHS. I can't believe I had these things growing in my breasts and didn't realize it. If they had been cancer, my treatment would be delayed (and chances of survival decreased) because I hadn't been alert about my body.
So I encourage you-do your self exam. If you're at the point in life where you should be getting mammograms, do that as well. And for the men, if you're still with me, and if you're married, I know you're playing with your wife's um, equipment. Or at least you should be. ;) Anyway, while you're enjoying yourself, get to know them, and if you notice any changes or lumps, talk to her about it. You may end up being her hero in more ways than one. :)
Lady friends o'mine (and men, you can ask your wives), when was the last time you did a breast self examination? If you haven't done one in the last month, DO IT. It should be a monthly deal. If you're not sure how to do it, click here .
I wasn't going to go into detail on my "female" problems, but basically, I was having severe breast pain. The doctor examined me and found several large lumps, which he further examined and determined they were cysts, and now we're at the diagnosis of my low progesterone, and you know the rest of the story.
Then today, I got an email from one of my critique partners. She had a weird mammogram, and she ended up being diagnosed with breast cancer this week.
Sobering news. Especially because I realized, as I felt for myself the extent of my cysts, I hadn't done a monthly self exam in MONTHS. I can't believe I had these things growing in my breasts and didn't realize it. If they had been cancer, my treatment would be delayed (and chances of survival decreased) because I hadn't been alert about my body.
So I encourage you-do your self exam. If you're at the point in life where you should be getting mammograms, do that as well. And for the men, if you're still with me, and if you're married, I know you're playing with your wife's um, equipment. Or at least you should be. ;) Anyway, while you're enjoying yourself, get to know them, and if you notice any changes or lumps, talk to her about it. You may end up being her hero in more ways than one. :)
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
A little research and a good night's sleep
Makes it all better. :)
The reason I went to the doctor yesterday and found out about my weight gain is I was having "woman troubles". Don't want to scare the guys too much, so I'll try not to give too much detail. :) Anyway, the reason I was having the symptoms I was having is that I don't have enough progesterone. As That Man said about it, I'm not hormonal because I don't have any! So HA!
I was given the option of going back on birth control or letting it run its course, which will mean certain body parts will hurt until my body figures out what it's doing. However, I HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE birth control pills. You think I'm a freak now-you seriously don't want to be around me when I'm on those things. Soo, I took door number two.
I decided to Google my diagnosis (I bet doctors hate we do that!) and there's a whole bunch of stuff out there. Including self diagnosis quizzes. It scares me how many things I have going on with my body that are related to a progesterone deficiency. INCLUDING: unexplained weight gain or inability to lose weight. I'm not a big fat cow because I'm a big fat cow. My lack of hormones made me that way! Score one for the home team. :) Seriously, though, I realized that there's a real explanation for a lot of sudden and weird changes in my health-even in things that I just figured "that's how I am."
Which led me to deciding to take action to fix it (without the evil pill). However, there are so many wackos out there, and most of the resources end with the whole "buy my product" routine, I didn't know who to trust. And so... I used my secret weapon. I used to work with a nutritionist who just happens to also hate the evil pill, and I knew she'd have a solution for me. I called her and she put me in touch with a very nice lady on the east coast who deals in all natural remedies (and will ONLY sell to licensed medical professionals) who confirmed my doctor's diagnosis and friend's diagnosis (which matches what I found online), soooo I'm meeting with my friend on Friday to get me some stuff to make it better.
I know, you were all soooo interested in my health. But it has an important lesson. And there usually is one in all of my long stories. The amazing thing about living in the information age is that we can get all sorts of information. But as thinking adults, we also need to find ways of measuring that information and test it. I absolutely bought my doctor's diagnosis. But I'm not a "wait and see" kind of girl. My doctor, even though he is one of the best doctors in town, and I absolutely love him, is not as into the natural/holistic medicine as I am. I recognize this and do research on my own for what I want. But NOTICE-I didn't go off half baked and take the advice of all the quacks out there who think they know about my condition. Anyone can post anything they want on the Internet and call themselves an expert. For all you people know (except for the ones who've met me in person), I could be a teenager, a bald octogenerian, or *gasp* some random celebrity. I'm not. But how would you know? So don't believe all the crap people write, especially when it comes to your health. I read up, checked with someone I know is an expert, who had me confirm with an expert, and NOW I'm taking action.
Soooo... I'm much happier now. I'm also pretty excited, because a lot of the problems I've been having are things that are fixable. Things like my migraines-soon to be gone. They began when I started having these symptoms, and wouldn't ya know-migraines can also be the result of lack of progesterone. One little hormone-lotsa stuff fixed. :) I might even stop wanting to blow up the universe. But I wouldn't count on it. Blowing stuff up is cool.
The reason I went to the doctor yesterday and found out about my weight gain is I was having "woman troubles". Don't want to scare the guys too much, so I'll try not to give too much detail. :) Anyway, the reason I was having the symptoms I was having is that I don't have enough progesterone. As That Man said about it, I'm not hormonal because I don't have any! So HA!
I was given the option of going back on birth control or letting it run its course, which will mean certain body parts will hurt until my body figures out what it's doing. However, I HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE birth control pills. You think I'm a freak now-you seriously don't want to be around me when I'm on those things. Soo, I took door number two.
I decided to Google my diagnosis (I bet doctors hate we do that!) and there's a whole bunch of stuff out there. Including self diagnosis quizzes. It scares me how many things I have going on with my body that are related to a progesterone deficiency. INCLUDING: unexplained weight gain or inability to lose weight. I'm not a big fat cow because I'm a big fat cow. My lack of hormones made me that way! Score one for the home team. :) Seriously, though, I realized that there's a real explanation for a lot of sudden and weird changes in my health-even in things that I just figured "that's how I am."
Which led me to deciding to take action to fix it (without the evil pill). However, there are so many wackos out there, and most of the resources end with the whole "buy my product" routine, I didn't know who to trust. And so... I used my secret weapon. I used to work with a nutritionist who just happens to also hate the evil pill, and I knew she'd have a solution for me. I called her and she put me in touch with a very nice lady on the east coast who deals in all natural remedies (and will ONLY sell to licensed medical professionals) who confirmed my doctor's diagnosis and friend's diagnosis (which matches what I found online), soooo I'm meeting with my friend on Friday to get me some stuff to make it better.
I know, you were all soooo interested in my health. But it has an important lesson. And there usually is one in all of my long stories. The amazing thing about living in the information age is that we can get all sorts of information. But as thinking adults, we also need to find ways of measuring that information and test it. I absolutely bought my doctor's diagnosis. But I'm not a "wait and see" kind of girl. My doctor, even though he is one of the best doctors in town, and I absolutely love him, is not as into the natural/holistic medicine as I am. I recognize this and do research on my own for what I want. But NOTICE-I didn't go off half baked and take the advice of all the quacks out there who think they know about my condition. Anyone can post anything they want on the Internet and call themselves an expert. For all you people know (except for the ones who've met me in person), I could be a teenager, a bald octogenerian, or *gasp* some random celebrity. I'm not. But how would you know? So don't believe all the crap people write, especially when it comes to your health. I read up, checked with someone I know is an expert, who had me confirm with an expert, and NOW I'm taking action.
Soooo... I'm much happier now. I'm also pretty excited, because a lot of the problems I've been having are things that are fixable. Things like my migraines-soon to be gone. They began when I started having these symptoms, and wouldn't ya know-migraines can also be the result of lack of progesterone. One little hormone-lotsa stuff fixed. :) I might even stop wanting to blow up the universe. But I wouldn't count on it. Blowing stuff up is cool.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Please Kill Me
Seriously.
I mean it.
I forgot to tape Veronica.
And I had a doctor's appointment today. My weightloss plan-I gained ten pounds. Now I need to lose fifteen. How... how... how... can one trying to lose weight, do all the right things, and GAIN ten pounds?
So here I am, depressed beyond all get out, and I can't even gorge on chocolate!!!
Which is why I think it would be best if someone just killed me. Plus, if I'm murdered, That Man and Those Kids will get a lot of money!
(Though if I am murdered, I would definitely consider That Man a suspect)
I mean it.
I forgot to tape Veronica.
And I had a doctor's appointment today. My weightloss plan-I gained ten pounds. Now I need to lose fifteen. How... how... how... can one trying to lose weight, do all the right things, and GAIN ten pounds?
So here I am, depressed beyond all get out, and I can't even gorge on chocolate!!!
Which is why I think it would be best if someone just killed me. Plus, if I'm murdered, That Man and Those Kids will get a lot of money!
(Though if I am murdered, I would definitely consider That Man a suspect)
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Ah, the good ole days
Well, potica making was a success. We made 4 poticas, which ended up being 15 loaves. When I get the pictures from my FIL, I'll share. It was totally cool. I loved being a part of it and getting a taste of That Man's heritage. And tasty it was. :)
It definitely made me want to do some digging into my own family history, which is going to be hard, since my relatives are all clams.
Finishing up some work now and I have Cheaper by the Dozen on. The original version, TYVM. I can't think of a single classic movie where the remake has been better. It's tempting to stay up and watch The King and I, because not only do I ADORE anything Rodgers and Hammerstein, but Yul Brynner is AWESOME. I think he's why I have secret fantasies about my hubby with a shaved head. :)
However, I do own the movie, so I suppose I can watch it at my leisure. I also own the remake which completely SUCKS. :)
It definitely made me want to do some digging into my own family history, which is going to be hard, since my relatives are all clams.
Finishing up some work now and I have Cheaper by the Dozen on. The original version, TYVM. I can't think of a single classic movie where the remake has been better. It's tempting to stay up and watch The King and I, because not only do I ADORE anything Rodgers and Hammerstein, but Yul Brynner is AWESOME. I think he's why I have secret fantasies about my hubby with a shaved head. :)
However, I do own the movie, so I suppose I can watch it at my leisure. I also own the remake which completely SUCKS. :)
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Phew!
Well, it's been a doozy of a couple few days. I ended up with the nasty stomach virus my children had, which has not been fun. Fortunately, I was better this morning, and got to go teach the first session of my latest class. Unfortunately, it decided to snow-again. We still haven't gotten rid of the snow from the last storm, so I was much displeased. That Man, smart as he is, was indignant on my behalf that it would snow without asking my permission. ;)
Class was fine, I felt like a total dork teaching, and didn't realize until halfway through that the district manager was listening in. Eeek! However, at the end of class we talked and she said she thought I did great. As in, if it was in her budget, she'd hire me to do nothing but teach full time. YIKES! And, I get to teach another training class that I wasn't planning on. Ain't I just popular? I just want to know-if I'm so great, why do I think I'm making a fool out of myself up there?
I came home, made this fabulous "nacho surprise" thing for dinner. AKA throw a bunch of stuff on tortilla chips, top with cheese and melt under the broiler because I haven't done grocery shopping.
Then, I decided to embark on a project that HAS to get done. We have a friend moving in with us coming up in less than ten days, which means I have to get the spare room cleaned out. Which means consolidating and sorting kid junk, finding storage for said kid junk, etc. I'm quite pleased with the results. The room will be ready as soon as I finish sorting baby clothes and put them in the attic. Well, and then I should probably clean it. :)
Part of this process also involves cleaning my office. In the shifting process, I had to move my book boxes from The Room into my office. Which means moving out the last remnants of kid stuff and *gasp* sorting my own stuff. See, I have a thing about filing. Necessary evil, but I hate doing it. So I wait until I HAVE to do it. AKA tax time. So I might actually get it all done here in the next few days and when tax time comes, I might actually have an easier time of it.
Nah... my mess is always the least of the worries. The worst part is That Man's stuff and his business nightmare. One of these days, I'll take a picture of it in all of its glory and you can see what a disaster it is. But who knows, maybe all of my hard work will inspire him and he'll want to have his desk area look like mine and he'll get it done too.
OH! And I sorted through Christmas presents today. I almost have all of my shopping done. The presents are all neatly organized into recipient, so all I have to do is wrap and put under tree. Note to self: buy wrapping paper. :)
Tomorrow, I'm off to participate in one of That Man's family traditions-making potica (it's spelled a million different ways, but you can click hereto see what I'm talking about. I've always wanted to learn, so I'm excited that Teri is having everyone over to learn how to do it. I'm told to be prepared to get really flour-y and that it's going to take all day. Fun, fun, fun.
Class was fine, I felt like a total dork teaching, and didn't realize until halfway through that the district manager was listening in. Eeek! However, at the end of class we talked and she said she thought I did great. As in, if it was in her budget, she'd hire me to do nothing but teach full time. YIKES! And, I get to teach another training class that I wasn't planning on. Ain't I just popular? I just want to know-if I'm so great, why do I think I'm making a fool out of myself up there?
I came home, made this fabulous "nacho surprise" thing for dinner. AKA throw a bunch of stuff on tortilla chips, top with cheese and melt under the broiler because I haven't done grocery shopping.
Then, I decided to embark on a project that HAS to get done. We have a friend moving in with us coming up in less than ten days, which means I have to get the spare room cleaned out. Which means consolidating and sorting kid junk, finding storage for said kid junk, etc. I'm quite pleased with the results. The room will be ready as soon as I finish sorting baby clothes and put them in the attic. Well, and then I should probably clean it. :)
Part of this process also involves cleaning my office. In the shifting process, I had to move my book boxes from The Room into my office. Which means moving out the last remnants of kid stuff and *gasp* sorting my own stuff. See, I have a thing about filing. Necessary evil, but I hate doing it. So I wait until I HAVE to do it. AKA tax time. So I might actually get it all done here in the next few days and when tax time comes, I might actually have an easier time of it.
Nah... my mess is always the least of the worries. The worst part is That Man's stuff and his business nightmare. One of these days, I'll take a picture of it in all of its glory and you can see what a disaster it is. But who knows, maybe all of my hard work will inspire him and he'll want to have his desk area look like mine and he'll get it done too.
OH! And I sorted through Christmas presents today. I almost have all of my shopping done. The presents are all neatly organized into recipient, so all I have to do is wrap and put under tree. Note to self: buy wrapping paper. :)
Tomorrow, I'm off to participate in one of That Man's family traditions-making potica (it's spelled a million different ways, but you can click hereto see what I'm talking about. I've always wanted to learn, so I'm excited that Teri is having everyone over to learn how to do it. I'm told to be prepared to get really flour-y and that it's going to take all day. Fun, fun, fun.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Once Again, Blowing Stuff Up
Yeah, I know, my friends at Homeland Security are loving this. I'm going to tell you a secret about myself. My daughter likes to play on Neopets. Except, as I'd like to remind any men who think they'd like to marry her, she has expensive taste. And, because she is only 6, she sucks at all the games at which you earn the points to buy the expensive little "things". So, being the indulgent parent, I play the games, earn the points, and she spends them. I'm telling you, marrying her off is going to be SUCH a chore.
Anyway, when I'm frustrated with something, I log in to her account, and I blow things up. She gets points, I release stress. Well, I've been blowing stuff up all night. See, when I started this Nano book, I had no idea how challenging it was going to be to me spiritually. I've written books before, but this is the first one, other than the one I'm editing to include more spiritual tones, that is overtly a spiritual book. Well, there was also the one... but we won't go there, okay? And, as much as I'd like to proudly have the "I did the Nano thing" banner again this year, it's not going to happen.
Along the journey, I realized that there is something more important than my goals. EEK! I'm growing. This is hard for a goal-driven person like me. To have to step back and say, the goal isn't important. Because even though I initially said that was the goal, the important thing became God saying, "Hey, there's something important I need to teach you here." I have less than 24 hours left in the challenge, and only 24,000 words written out of 50,000. You do the math. Yes, I've had 20K days (that nearly killed me, and I did NOTHING but write), but I'm not going to do it. I'm not even going to try.
I'm dancing around these chapters right now, because while this book is a definite parallel of the Hosea story, I've taken enough artistic license and deviated from the Bible that there's some differences. Maybe enough that only people who I tell it's a Hosea book will see it for what it is. I don't know. What I do know is that here I am, in a room full of drug dealers, and there's this one-Tony. He's trying to save Gomer from the drug lord and bring her back to Hosea. He's so honorable, he's so amazing, and yet, I have to kill him. There's this part of me that wants Tony and Gomer to end up together, because he's such an amazing man and he loves her so much. And yet, he has to bring Gomer and Hosea back together.
I've written the book out of order, because I was so excited to blow things up. The big explosion? Tony dies in it. Yeah, I know, I ruined the book. It's only halfway. :) But somehow, I have to get Tony and the drug lord to the building before it blows up. AND, I have to make Gomer willing to go with Hosea after it happens. She doesn't have to love him at this point, but she has to go.
In this struggle, I'm learning something about God. He doesn't want these bad things to happen to us. He doesn't want us to get blown up. But like Tony, we have choices. He's made the conscious decision to be where he is at. He's chosen to seek his own form of vengeance rather than trusting in the Lord, and even though he is a wonderful loving man who has good intentions, he's still going to have to live the consequences of his actions. Which is a lot like how we are in our relationships with God. Our intentions are good, but sometimes we're not exactly doing what He wants us to be doing. And sometimes that means suffering negative consquences. The good news is that in the end, we're going to end up in Paradise with God. But the journey itself-it's not going to be perfect or easy.
So what on earth does this have to do with blowing stuff up? I'm sort of in a holding pattern right now, because as I started thinking about what this book meant to me, God did one of his famous taps on my shoulder and now I'm supposed to be reading commentaries about Hosea. As if. Yes, I'm going to do it. And no, I'm not procrastinating. I am researching, so if you want to share any suggestions, please do so. Believe it or not, blowing stuff up helps me think. So I'm off in Neopia, blowing up bad guys, earning points for my kiddo, and by the end of this stage in the journey, I expect she'll be a fully spoiled Neopian Millionaire.
And no, my beloved Tori, I have not forgotten about our beloved Veronica (or Jericho, another shared passion). I am just so freaking homicidal over both shows that I have no comments that I won't get arrested over, so I'll wait until I'm calm and have viewed them again. *batting eyelashes*
Anyway, when I'm frustrated with something, I log in to her account, and I blow things up. She gets points, I release stress. Well, I've been blowing stuff up all night. See, when I started this Nano book, I had no idea how challenging it was going to be to me spiritually. I've written books before, but this is the first one, other than the one I'm editing to include more spiritual tones, that is overtly a spiritual book. Well, there was also the one... but we won't go there, okay? And, as much as I'd like to proudly have the "I did the Nano thing" banner again this year, it's not going to happen.
Along the journey, I realized that there is something more important than my goals. EEK! I'm growing. This is hard for a goal-driven person like me. To have to step back and say, the goal isn't important. Because even though I initially said that was the goal, the important thing became God saying, "Hey, there's something important I need to teach you here." I have less than 24 hours left in the challenge, and only 24,000 words written out of 50,000. You do the math. Yes, I've had 20K days (that nearly killed me, and I did NOTHING but write), but I'm not going to do it. I'm not even going to try.
I'm dancing around these chapters right now, because while this book is a definite parallel of the Hosea story, I've taken enough artistic license and deviated from the Bible that there's some differences. Maybe enough that only people who I tell it's a Hosea book will see it for what it is. I don't know. What I do know is that here I am, in a room full of drug dealers, and there's this one-Tony. He's trying to save Gomer from the drug lord and bring her back to Hosea. He's so honorable, he's so amazing, and yet, I have to kill him. There's this part of me that wants Tony and Gomer to end up together, because he's such an amazing man and he loves her so much. And yet, he has to bring Gomer and Hosea back together.
I've written the book out of order, because I was so excited to blow things up. The big explosion? Tony dies in it. Yeah, I know, I ruined the book. It's only halfway. :) But somehow, I have to get Tony and the drug lord to the building before it blows up. AND, I have to make Gomer willing to go with Hosea after it happens. She doesn't have to love him at this point, but she has to go.
In this struggle, I'm learning something about God. He doesn't want these bad things to happen to us. He doesn't want us to get blown up. But like Tony, we have choices. He's made the conscious decision to be where he is at. He's chosen to seek his own form of vengeance rather than trusting in the Lord, and even though he is a wonderful loving man who has good intentions, he's still going to have to live the consequences of his actions. Which is a lot like how we are in our relationships with God. Our intentions are good, but sometimes we're not exactly doing what He wants us to be doing. And sometimes that means suffering negative consquences. The good news is that in the end, we're going to end up in Paradise with God. But the journey itself-it's not going to be perfect or easy.
So what on earth does this have to do with blowing stuff up? I'm sort of in a holding pattern right now, because as I started thinking about what this book meant to me, God did one of his famous taps on my shoulder and now I'm supposed to be reading commentaries about Hosea. As if. Yes, I'm going to do it. And no, I'm not procrastinating. I am researching, so if you want to share any suggestions, please do so. Believe it or not, blowing stuff up helps me think. So I'm off in Neopia, blowing up bad guys, earning points for my kiddo, and by the end of this stage in the journey, I expect she'll be a fully spoiled Neopian Millionaire.
And no, my beloved Tori, I have not forgotten about our beloved Veronica (or Jericho, another shared passion). I am just so freaking homicidal over both shows that I have no comments that I won't get arrested over, so I'll wait until I'm calm and have viewed them again. *batting eyelashes*
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Taking Courage
God is so not funny most of the time. Seriously. I was debating about church tonight, That Man was working again, and it had started to snow. But I just felt this God tug at my heart that I needed to go. So okay, fine. I packed up the kiddos and braved the snow to head to church. The roads weren't bad, so I was pretty happy. I get to church, no big deal.
And the topic was the Serenity prayer, and they were going to be talking about courage and wisdom. Okay. Fine. Nothing I really needed, but I'll bite. Now, I have to be nice in saying this, because I found out that people from my church read my blog, but I also have to be honest. It was *SO* not what I was hoping for. A couple bits of Bible nuggets, but mostly their personal stories. Blech. I've been needing to dig in the Word, so it just wasn't soul filling. However, I always do get good things out of anything, so I did pick up a couple things.
Finally, the guest speaker, Bob Krulish, says something that made God do His fun little, "HEY DUMMY" prod. Bob was talking about his battle with colon cancer and how when he got the news, he asked God if he should be worried, God said no, and because of the things God had already brought him through, he trusted God and didn't worry. Huh. Okay, Lord, what exactly does this have to do with me?
Well, we got out of church, and the little snow had turned into a lot of snow. As I wiped the snow off my car, I noticed police cars with lights on heading in the exact direction I have to go. Lovely.
See, I have this huge fear: driving in snow. I lay the blame solely on my parents, who spent my entire childhood groaning about how it was sooo dangerous to drive on the snow. Before I ever took the wheel, I was terrified of driving in snow. So here I am, a neurotic adult who's afraid to drive in snow. It's seriously so bad that I will do anything to avoid driving in it. If I have to go to work in snow, I make That Man drive me. I literally shake in fear when I'm behind the wheel in snow-white knuckled and the whole bit.
So while they didn't share a whole lot of Bible verses on courage, I had a few of my own in my arsenal. After all, I did make my daughter memorize Joshua 1:9 "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." As I think I mentioned before, I was motivated solely in my desire to memorize it myself. And it served me well, as I drove home.
The Lord was with me. He's with me wherever I go. I just need the prod to remember it. During my careful maneuvers, I said this verse over and over, remembering what Bob had said-God has saved me from a number of hard times. And when He said He was with me, I had no choice but to believe Him. He's been faithful to me and He has NEVER broken a promise to me.
See, the point of my going to church tonight was not that I needed to hear the message so much as I needed to encounter God in the tangible way of driving through the snow and ice without the fear that consumes me. Oh, don't get me wrong. I was still afraid. God doesn't take the fear away. But He does give courage. If you are willing to take it. Because the funny thing about taking courage is that you have to act. You have to move. God will move with you.
It took 40 minutes to make a 15 minute trip. But we made it safely and without incident. God kept us safe, despite bad roads, that as the news reported later, was the cause of several bad accidents.
The most humbling part of it all is that the final song we sang (one of my favorites), Pledge, went through my head, especially the chorus, which says:
Forgive me now
I don't know how
To love You like I should
I pledge my vow to learn somehow
To love You like I should
I don't know how to love God the way I should. I wish I did. But nights like tonight, when I take a little more courage, and trust Him even in a silly thing like driving in the snow, I learn just a little more about the incredible God I call my own.
And the topic was the Serenity prayer, and they were going to be talking about courage and wisdom. Okay. Fine. Nothing I really needed, but I'll bite. Now, I have to be nice in saying this, because I found out that people from my church read my blog, but I also have to be honest. It was *SO* not what I was hoping for. A couple bits of Bible nuggets, but mostly their personal stories. Blech. I've been needing to dig in the Word, so it just wasn't soul filling. However, I always do get good things out of anything, so I did pick up a couple things.
Finally, the guest speaker, Bob Krulish, says something that made God do His fun little, "HEY DUMMY" prod. Bob was talking about his battle with colon cancer and how when he got the news, he asked God if he should be worried, God said no, and because of the things God had already brought him through, he trusted God and didn't worry. Huh. Okay, Lord, what exactly does this have to do with me?
Well, we got out of church, and the little snow had turned into a lot of snow. As I wiped the snow off my car, I noticed police cars with lights on heading in the exact direction I have to go. Lovely.
See, I have this huge fear: driving in snow. I lay the blame solely on my parents, who spent my entire childhood groaning about how it was sooo dangerous to drive on the snow. Before I ever took the wheel, I was terrified of driving in snow. So here I am, a neurotic adult who's afraid to drive in snow. It's seriously so bad that I will do anything to avoid driving in it. If I have to go to work in snow, I make That Man drive me. I literally shake in fear when I'm behind the wheel in snow-white knuckled and the whole bit.
So while they didn't share a whole lot of Bible verses on courage, I had a few of my own in my arsenal. After all, I did make my daughter memorize Joshua 1:9 "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." As I think I mentioned before, I was motivated solely in my desire to memorize it myself. And it served me well, as I drove home.
The Lord was with me. He's with me wherever I go. I just need the prod to remember it. During my careful maneuvers, I said this verse over and over, remembering what Bob had said-God has saved me from a number of hard times. And when He said He was with me, I had no choice but to believe Him. He's been faithful to me and He has NEVER broken a promise to me.
See, the point of my going to church tonight was not that I needed to hear the message so much as I needed to encounter God in the tangible way of driving through the snow and ice without the fear that consumes me. Oh, don't get me wrong. I was still afraid. God doesn't take the fear away. But He does give courage. If you are willing to take it. Because the funny thing about taking courage is that you have to act. You have to move. God will move with you.
It took 40 minutes to make a 15 minute trip. But we made it safely and without incident. God kept us safe, despite bad roads, that as the news reported later, was the cause of several bad accidents.
The most humbling part of it all is that the final song we sang (one of my favorites), Pledge, went through my head, especially the chorus, which says:
Forgive me now
I don't know how
To love You like I should
I pledge my vow to learn somehow
To love You like I should
I don't know how to love God the way I should. I wish I did. But nights like tonight, when I take a little more courage, and trust Him even in a silly thing like driving in the snow, I learn just a little more about the incredible God I call my own.
Monday, November 27, 2006
The Joy of my Life
Yes, it's another kiddo post. Actually, it's a random post. I had a better, funnier, title for it, but last time I had a fiendishly clever title, my boss found it, didn't appreciate it, and I had to delete. So pretend I had a fiendishly clever title, and it'll make my day.
We were in the grocery store, and the kiddos had been good, plus candy bars were on sale for twenty five cents. I bought the baby some Skittles. The older child yelled loudly, "Look, Mom! S&M's!" At which point, both girls started babbling about S&M excitedly. Everyone in the checkout lane began to stare at us. I just had to smile and nod and keep saying, "Yes, those are called SKITTLES." So the kids started arguing with me that it was really called S&M. After all, my six year old IS learning to read, so she KNOWS that it starts with an "S" and they're shaped like M&Ms, so they HAVE to be S&Ms, right?
Birth control... I highly recommend using it.
Actually, as much as I say that, I do have to say the kiddos are the joy of my life. Even though they are downstairs screaming and That Man is working late again, I wouldn't trade them for anything. I spent the afternoon in B's class, helping out, and it was loads of fun. For a second I thought I might enjoy being a kindergarten teacher, and then I realized it was the cold medicine talking.
Yes, I am still sick.
I spent the night of my previous blog up all night with a puking baby. Didn't get much sleep. No sleep + developing cold = full blown cold nightmare. My friend Julie called today, and I recognized the croak in her voice. She told me that it was week two for her. I can't afford to be sick right now. This class session ends Thursday, and I start a new, accelerated session on Saturday.
And because I just can't get enough insanity in my life, I bit the bullet and joined ACFW today. I even chatted with my buddies who've been twisting my arm about it and they're searching for CPs for me. Apparently, I need to adjust this cold medication.
But hey, the kiddos have stopped screaming,so that means they've either stopped fighting or they've finally succeeded in killing each other. I was hoping for the house blowing up since it's currently trashed, but since I'm still sitting here in my bed praying for death, their evil plot didn't work. Ah well, it would be a trifle inconvenient right now to be homeless, so I suppose it's probably a good thing they didn't blow up the house. (And for all you worrywarts, NO, they do not have access to explosives or anything capable of making a fire. There's a reason we don't have knobs on the stove. However, they are smart enough to figure out a way of doing it without the necessary implements).
Okay, they've been quiet for ten minutes. Must go check. Oh wait. Never mind. Here they come. Brace yourselves.
We were in the grocery store, and the kiddos had been good, plus candy bars were on sale for twenty five cents. I bought the baby some Skittles. The older child yelled loudly, "Look, Mom! S&M's!" At which point, both girls started babbling about S&M excitedly. Everyone in the checkout lane began to stare at us. I just had to smile and nod and keep saying, "Yes, those are called SKITTLES." So the kids started arguing with me that it was really called S&M. After all, my six year old IS learning to read, so she KNOWS that it starts with an "S" and they're shaped like M&Ms, so they HAVE to be S&Ms, right?
Birth control... I highly recommend using it.
Actually, as much as I say that, I do have to say the kiddos are the joy of my life. Even though they are downstairs screaming and That Man is working late again, I wouldn't trade them for anything. I spent the afternoon in B's class, helping out, and it was loads of fun. For a second I thought I might enjoy being a kindergarten teacher, and then I realized it was the cold medicine talking.
Yes, I am still sick.
I spent the night of my previous blog up all night with a puking baby. Didn't get much sleep. No sleep + developing cold = full blown cold nightmare. My friend Julie called today, and I recognized the croak in her voice. She told me that it was week two for her. I can't afford to be sick right now. This class session ends Thursday, and I start a new, accelerated session on Saturday.
And because I just can't get enough insanity in my life, I bit the bullet and joined ACFW today. I even chatted with my buddies who've been twisting my arm about it and they're searching for CPs for me. Apparently, I need to adjust this cold medication.
But hey, the kiddos have stopped screaming,so that means they've either stopped fighting or they've finally succeeded in killing each other. I was hoping for the house blowing up since it's currently trashed, but since I'm still sitting here in my bed praying for death, their evil plot didn't work. Ah well, it would be a trifle inconvenient right now to be homeless, so I suppose it's probably a good thing they didn't blow up the house. (And for all you worrywarts, NO, they do not have access to explosives or anything capable of making a fire. There's a reason we don't have knobs on the stove. However, they are smart enough to figure out a way of doing it without the necessary implements).
Okay, they've been quiet for ten minutes. Must go check. Oh wait. Never mind. Here they come. Brace yourselves.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Now it's vomit
I wish I were kidding. I say that a lot, sadly. For those of you without children, you might add this to reasons why birth control is a really good option.
That Man's family comes from a mountain town about an hour and a half away. It's a beautiful place, although it has the distinction of often being the coldest place in the continental U.S. Which is why my dream is to have a SUMMER home there. We spent one snowy Thanksgiving there and froze our butts off. However, it is gorgeous, so it was with mixed feelings that I got in the car to make the trek.
Anyway, we headed out, and it was a gorgeous day. I brought The Mistress to try to get some writing done. At this rate, it'll take a miracle to make the Nano goal. However, I'm coming down with a cold, so after hitting page 100 (sigh), I took a nap. Which, as we got ready to turn off the highway to head up the pass was rudely interrupted by a child blowing chunks.
Literally.
I woke up to little pieces of vomit flying past me. We pulled over and cleaned up best we could. However, we still had a half hour drive to the nearest town. We drove, in the stench of vomit, until we got to town, which fortunately, has a Family Dollar store. She'd puked all over the new clothes I'd bought her, plus her coat. So I bought her more new clothes.
We headed off to the church, and it's one of those old, historic churches. I think, but not 100%, I remember being told it was the first Catholic church in town. Maybe the first church period. Anyway, they don't have a restroom, it's so old. Fortunately, the priest was in residence, so we went next door to the rectory and I was able to get her cleaned up and changed there.
The funeral was good, I assume. The baby threw a fit in the very beginning, so I took her outside. I was sad to miss most of it, but I did hear a very nice portion of a tribute to Zay that was very sweet. It made me wish I'd known her when she was young, rather than as a dying old woman. Even though I do have some wonderful memories of her.
Then, we buried her, and it was a beautiful day. It had snowed the night before, but it was so warm and nice we didn't even need coats. It was cool-she was buried with her husband, and their plot was with their lifelong best friends who'd also been their next door neighbors. They even have one headstone for the four of them. After that, we visited the family plot and paid our respects to That Man's grandmother and great grandparents. It's weird to do that, because I really appreciate the grave sites and family memorials. And yet, as I explained to my daughter when we discussed whether or not she'd view Zay's body, it's just a body. She's gone up to heaven.
Anyway... afterwards, we went to a friend's home for a meal, and sick kiddo started feeling bad again, so she just laid in a chair. However, after we'd eaten a bit (she didn't have anything to eat), That Man came to get me-she'd gone outside and thrown up again. At least she didn't do it in a house full of mourners.
So, we quickly packed up and headed out. Kiddos fell asleep right away. I thought, cool, I can sleep too.
Guess what woke me up?
Fortunately, this time, we had the trash can right there for her to throw up in. But I'll tell you, that sound and smell of puke will keep a body wide awake.
We got home, kiddo now feels great. I, however, am feeling like crap. No puke so far, but I definitely feel like I was hit by a freight train. Things I am thankful for this Thanksgiving-that we took That Man's car AND he's got an all leather interior. Much easier to clean up. :)
That Man's family comes from a mountain town about an hour and a half away. It's a beautiful place, although it has the distinction of often being the coldest place in the continental U.S. Which is why my dream is to have a SUMMER home there. We spent one snowy Thanksgiving there and froze our butts off. However, it is gorgeous, so it was with mixed feelings that I got in the car to make the trek.
Anyway, we headed out, and it was a gorgeous day. I brought The Mistress to try to get some writing done. At this rate, it'll take a miracle to make the Nano goal. However, I'm coming down with a cold, so after hitting page 100 (sigh), I took a nap. Which, as we got ready to turn off the highway to head up the pass was rudely interrupted by a child blowing chunks.
Literally.
I woke up to little pieces of vomit flying past me. We pulled over and cleaned up best we could. However, we still had a half hour drive to the nearest town. We drove, in the stench of vomit, until we got to town, which fortunately, has a Family Dollar store. She'd puked all over the new clothes I'd bought her, plus her coat. So I bought her more new clothes.
We headed off to the church, and it's one of those old, historic churches. I think, but not 100%, I remember being told it was the first Catholic church in town. Maybe the first church period. Anyway, they don't have a restroom, it's so old. Fortunately, the priest was in residence, so we went next door to the rectory and I was able to get her cleaned up and changed there.
The funeral was good, I assume. The baby threw a fit in the very beginning, so I took her outside. I was sad to miss most of it, but I did hear a very nice portion of a tribute to Zay that was very sweet. It made me wish I'd known her when she was young, rather than as a dying old woman. Even though I do have some wonderful memories of her.
Then, we buried her, and it was a beautiful day. It had snowed the night before, but it was so warm and nice we didn't even need coats. It was cool-she was buried with her husband, and their plot was with their lifelong best friends who'd also been their next door neighbors. They even have one headstone for the four of them. After that, we visited the family plot and paid our respects to That Man's grandmother and great grandparents. It's weird to do that, because I really appreciate the grave sites and family memorials. And yet, as I explained to my daughter when we discussed whether or not she'd view Zay's body, it's just a body. She's gone up to heaven.
Anyway... afterwards, we went to a friend's home for a meal, and sick kiddo started feeling bad again, so she just laid in a chair. However, after we'd eaten a bit (she didn't have anything to eat), That Man came to get me-she'd gone outside and thrown up again. At least she didn't do it in a house full of mourners.
So, we quickly packed up and headed out. Kiddos fell asleep right away. I thought, cool, I can sleep too.
Guess what woke me up?
Fortunately, this time, we had the trash can right there for her to throw up in. But I'll tell you, that sound and smell of puke will keep a body wide awake.
We got home, kiddo now feels great. I, however, am feeling like crap. No puke so far, but I definitely feel like I was hit by a freight train. Things I am thankful for this Thanksgiving-that we took That Man's car AND he's got an all leather interior. Much easier to clean up. :)
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Turkey Day (and crap!)
Yeah, still on that train.
Went to bed last night to find that my bedroom smelled of man butt. It's pretty funny, because we ended up doing the "chase the man around the room with air freshener" game. Actually, once I got him out of the room, I used the can on his side of the bed. Yes, single gals, this is what you get to look forward to in marriage-man butt.
So this morning, I woke up, got ready for the big Turkey event, and headed over to my FIL's for the big family event. Okay, I don't have a clever way to say it, but basically, the crap was that I found out DH's great aunt passed away last night. Zay has been really sick for a while, and we knew it was going to happen soon-we intentionally planned on having this huge Thanksgiving because we were pretty sure it would be Zay's last. I realize it's semi selfish, but I'm so disappointed that our chance to say goodbye never happened. It really was her time to go and her suffering is over now.
It makes me realize that we never know how long any of us are going to have-and I know that while I didn't get a chance to say goodbye, I didn't have to see her at a point when she probably wouldn't have recognized us anyway. And I'll get the chance to see her again. It'll be neat-because she'll have the presence of mind to finally tell the stories of growing up in the mining towns and all the cool historical stuff I always wanted to know. But who knows, maybe we won't want to talk about that stuff at all, we'll just be chillin with the big dude instead.
Okay, being depressing now... off to go play around with Google.
Went to bed last night to find that my bedroom smelled of man butt. It's pretty funny, because we ended up doing the "chase the man around the room with air freshener" game. Actually, once I got him out of the room, I used the can on his side of the bed. Yes, single gals, this is what you get to look forward to in marriage-man butt.
So this morning, I woke up, got ready for the big Turkey event, and headed over to my FIL's for the big family event. Okay, I don't have a clever way to say it, but basically, the crap was that I found out DH's great aunt passed away last night. Zay has been really sick for a while, and we knew it was going to happen soon-we intentionally planned on having this huge Thanksgiving because we were pretty sure it would be Zay's last. I realize it's semi selfish, but I'm so disappointed that our chance to say goodbye never happened. It really was her time to go and her suffering is over now.
It makes me realize that we never know how long any of us are going to have-and I know that while I didn't get a chance to say goodbye, I didn't have to see her at a point when she probably wouldn't have recognized us anyway. And I'll get the chance to see her again. It'll be neat-because she'll have the presence of mind to finally tell the stories of growing up in the mining towns and all the cool historical stuff I always wanted to know. But who knows, maybe we won't want to talk about that stuff at all, we'll just be chillin with the big dude instead.
Okay, being depressing now... off to go play around with Google.
Finding the Missing Poopy
Some days are just well... crappy. And, as I've blogged about before, mine tend to be literal.
I woke up this morning to, "Mommy! Poopy!" I let the critter out of her cage to find her stark naked, except for a princess tiara (on backwards) and her socks-one pink, one purple. I REALLY wanted to take a picture for my blog, but I was afraid I'd get in trouble for kiddie um, bad stuff that I won't say so the pervs don't get me when googling. She was very cute. However, her "poopy" comment meant one thing. The little turkey had gone poopy, and since her diaper was MIA, I had to dig through the pit known as her room to find it.
At which point, I step into a puddle of what can only be pee. Ah, I love this mommy business. I search for diaper and find it-completely dry. So I begin looking for the rest of her bowel functions. I tear apart the room, and don't find it. I give up because I want to clean up the puddle o' pee before the dog finds it and decides to add to it.
That mission accomplished, the little monster decides she needs to eat. I don't know why they made feeding children part of parenting. Geez! I mean, if I stopped feeding them, they'd stop going to the bathroom. ;) Anyway, kiddo gets fed and we head downstairs. She's going through a nonstop eating phase, so after she ate her yogurt, my yogurt, my pastry, an orange, my banana, she stood in the living room, happily chomping on HER banana, smiling, she starts to pee in the middle of the family room. I try to coax her into stopping and going to the toilet, but no. God help you if you bother this child while eating. You'd think I was trying to kill her rather than keep her from peeing on my carpet.
Sooo... yet again I get to clean up pee before the dog smells it and decides to re-mark his territory. I get THAT cleaned up, and realize that with all the errands I have to run, I have to get running before it gets too late. I take kiddos upstairs to find their shoes and socks. What do I smell by the sock drawer, but poop. Is it the missing poopy? I start digging (their room is a total mess-stuffed animals and blankets everywhere-they're playing some weird game with them), hoping the poop isn't on something important. I can't find it. B walks in and says, "Ew, Mom, it stinks like poop in here." I had to bite back what my mom used to tell me, even though it was probably fitting for the situation. "No s**t Sherlock." Literally.
I made her help me look, and despite our best efforts, we could not find the poop anywhere. And then, it stopped stinking, so I thought, well, maybe the baby has gas. Sometimes she farts and thinks she's got poop. We packed up ourselves, ran our errands, put the baby down for a nap, and when I got her up, I smelled it again. BAD. I looked around. No poop. She was dry, and yes, I sniffed to see if she had gas. Negative.
We went shopping, came home, and I sit down at the computer to get a little work done. HA! The dog curls up beside me, falls asleep, and just when I least expect it, he lets one rip. Yep, it's the dog. The nasty poop smell we've been blaming on the baby and trying to track all day-Wasn't her. The ugly black thing sitting next to me is the culprit. He follows me around all day, and of course, I never thought to sniff HIS butt. I mean, come on!
At this point, I'm going to assume that the missing poopy that woke me up this morning was, in fact gas. However, don't be surprised if weeks from now, I'm cleaning their room, and in some random and bizarre place, I find the missing poopy. Because you see, crap happens. And when you combine my luck with a dog and a potty training child, it happens a lot more often, and in a lot of really strange places.
I woke up this morning to, "Mommy! Poopy!" I let the critter out of her cage to find her stark naked, except for a princess tiara (on backwards) and her socks-one pink, one purple. I REALLY wanted to take a picture for my blog, but I was afraid I'd get in trouble for kiddie um, bad stuff that I won't say so the pervs don't get me when googling. She was very cute. However, her "poopy" comment meant one thing. The little turkey had gone poopy, and since her diaper was MIA, I had to dig through the pit known as her room to find it.
At which point, I step into a puddle of what can only be pee. Ah, I love this mommy business. I search for diaper and find it-completely dry. So I begin looking for the rest of her bowel functions. I tear apart the room, and don't find it. I give up because I want to clean up the puddle o' pee before the dog finds it and decides to add to it.
That mission accomplished, the little monster decides she needs to eat. I don't know why they made feeding children part of parenting. Geez! I mean, if I stopped feeding them, they'd stop going to the bathroom. ;) Anyway, kiddo gets fed and we head downstairs. She's going through a nonstop eating phase, so after she ate her yogurt, my yogurt, my pastry, an orange, my banana, she stood in the living room, happily chomping on HER banana, smiling, she starts to pee in the middle of the family room. I try to coax her into stopping and going to the toilet, but no. God help you if you bother this child while eating. You'd think I was trying to kill her rather than keep her from peeing on my carpet.
Sooo... yet again I get to clean up pee before the dog smells it and decides to re-mark his territory. I get THAT cleaned up, and realize that with all the errands I have to run, I have to get running before it gets too late. I take kiddos upstairs to find their shoes and socks. What do I smell by the sock drawer, but poop. Is it the missing poopy? I start digging (their room is a total mess-stuffed animals and blankets everywhere-they're playing some weird game with them), hoping the poop isn't on something important. I can't find it. B walks in and says, "Ew, Mom, it stinks like poop in here." I had to bite back what my mom used to tell me, even though it was probably fitting for the situation. "No s**t Sherlock." Literally.
I made her help me look, and despite our best efforts, we could not find the poop anywhere. And then, it stopped stinking, so I thought, well, maybe the baby has gas. Sometimes she farts and thinks she's got poop. We packed up ourselves, ran our errands, put the baby down for a nap, and when I got her up, I smelled it again. BAD. I looked around. No poop. She was dry, and yes, I sniffed to see if she had gas. Negative.
We went shopping, came home, and I sit down at the computer to get a little work done. HA! The dog curls up beside me, falls asleep, and just when I least expect it, he lets one rip. Yep, it's the dog. The nasty poop smell we've been blaming on the baby and trying to track all day-Wasn't her. The ugly black thing sitting next to me is the culprit. He follows me around all day, and of course, I never thought to sniff HIS butt. I mean, come on!
At this point, I'm going to assume that the missing poopy that woke me up this morning was, in fact gas. However, don't be surprised if weeks from now, I'm cleaning their room, and in some random and bizarre place, I find the missing poopy. Because you see, crap happens. And when you combine my luck with a dog and a potty training child, it happens a lot more often, and in a lot of really strange places.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
You Scoundrel!!
Yes, I am ranting at the Veronica Mars writers. Okay, let me back up.
First, up until the final scene of the show, it was the BEST this season. Best, I tell you, best. Was very happy with the tender moment between Veronica and Logan and that they were finally getting back on track. But those stupid, rotten, monstrous writers can't even have them happy for an episode. The last scene... I wanted to cry. I felt so bad for Logan. You could see his heart breaking.
It's funny, I began watching the show becasue I liked her so much. At this point, I'm liking her less because she's still the same person she was when I first started watching the show. She's still funny, still smart, still kick-butt. But we keep dealing with the same emotional mess over and over. Don't get me wrong, I love getting emotionally messy. But as a writer, I'm also a fixer. And I want to see things fixed. Or at least on the path to healing. Midway through the third season, and I'm not seeing it.
I know what she's been through, and maybe that's why I'm so mad. Doesn't she deserve a break? A chance at happiness? Why is she still sabotaging herself?
Who knows, maybe all these questions will feed nicely into the next episode, which appears to have some dire circumstances for Veronica, and it'll be the wakeup call for her to grow.
I was much pleased to see in the preview that we'll be seeing Mac, although sad that someone's going to die. I bet it's her, since we haven't seen her since early in the season. :( I like Mac.
First, up until the final scene of the show, it was the BEST this season. Best, I tell you, best. Was very happy with the tender moment between Veronica and Logan and that they were finally getting back on track. But those stupid, rotten, monstrous writers can't even have them happy for an episode. The last scene... I wanted to cry. I felt so bad for Logan. You could see his heart breaking.
It's funny, I began watching the show becasue I liked her so much. At this point, I'm liking her less because she's still the same person she was when I first started watching the show. She's still funny, still smart, still kick-butt. But we keep dealing with the same emotional mess over and over. Don't get me wrong, I love getting emotionally messy. But as a writer, I'm also a fixer. And I want to see things fixed. Or at least on the path to healing. Midway through the third season, and I'm not seeing it.
I know what she's been through, and maybe that's why I'm so mad. Doesn't she deserve a break? A chance at happiness? Why is she still sabotaging herself?
Who knows, maybe all these questions will feed nicely into the next episode, which appears to have some dire circumstances for Veronica, and it'll be the wakeup call for her to grow.
I was much pleased to see in the preview that we'll be seeing Mac, although sad that someone's going to die. I bet it's her, since we haven't seen her since early in the season. :( I like Mac.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Eating the elephant one bite at a time
Which is exactly how you write a book. Even if it's that foul tasting Nano elephant. There ain't enough ketchup in the world to make it taste good.
I'm bummed because I'm pretty far from the goal at this point. Only 17K words. But you know, it's 17K more than I had at the beginning of the month. And I still have time. It's not over until the fat lady sings.
So how do you face such a grotesque challenge of writing an impossible number of words? One word at a time. One sentence at a time. One page at a time. And even when you're dead tired, and it's super late, and you really don't want to write, you open up that document and put down a word. Then two. Then three. Before you know it, you have a whole sentence. And then a paragraph. And then a page. Which is how I got in five pages.
The good news is my class took their final tonight. The bad news is it's going to be a pain to grade it all. The other good news is that I don't have to teach again for another ten days. The final ten days of the challenge. :) I'm not cooking Thanksgiving, I have no pressing engagements, so I might maybe be able to actually *gasp* have some time to myself.
Which is probably just an invitation for the universe to explode, but until it does, I'm going to live in blissful anticipation of having a few moments that others don't have a claim on. And maybe kill a few drug dealers. Tee Hee.
I'm bummed because I'm pretty far from the goal at this point. Only 17K words. But you know, it's 17K more than I had at the beginning of the month. And I still have time. It's not over until the fat lady sings.
So how do you face such a grotesque challenge of writing an impossible number of words? One word at a time. One sentence at a time. One page at a time. And even when you're dead tired, and it's super late, and you really don't want to write, you open up that document and put down a word. Then two. Then three. Before you know it, you have a whole sentence. And then a paragraph. And then a page. Which is how I got in five pages.
The good news is my class took their final tonight. The bad news is it's going to be a pain to grade it all. The other good news is that I don't have to teach again for another ten days. The final ten days of the challenge. :) I'm not cooking Thanksgiving, I have no pressing engagements, so I might maybe be able to actually *gasp* have some time to myself.
Which is probably just an invitation for the universe to explode, but until it does, I'm going to live in blissful anticipation of having a few moments that others don't have a claim on. And maybe kill a few drug dealers. Tee Hee.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Killing people is such HARD work
I am still working on the suckage referred to as my Nano book. I should change my word counters on the blog, since they're way outdated, but I don't remember how. And I'm too lazy to figure it out. I did head out to the Mother Ship last night and got about ten pages written. I'd have done more, except I ran into a guy from college who I usually run into, say hi, and that's that, but last night, he decided he needed to take a trip down memory lane. Ah well, such is life. It's ten more pages than what I had before.
Trying to get some done tonight, and I'm starting to get irritated because I'm ready to just blow up the bad guys already. The one bad guy just makes my skin crawl. I've also realized just how much I need to research. OH! I just realized who would know the answers to my questions. I love having smart writer friends who don't think I'm weird when I ask my questions. Anyway, I always thought that killing off a few bad guys would be really easy. Um, not so much. Because you have to make sure the readers are okay with them dying, and that all the other characters are sympathetic, and blah blah blah.
I'm also irritated because once again, my CPs thought my hero was um, yucky. How is it that I can think this man is soooo freaking awesome and hot and tormented and sensitive and all things a hero in the making should be and they think he's a total loser? Am I just attracted to losers? And I'm sorta scared, because as I write this Nano book, with a heroine who, by today's standards, is a loser, I worry-do I have a hope of bringing out all the things I love about her on to the page so that my readers fall in love with her and want her to win just as badly as I do?
I was talking to Joni about it today, and she got excited because she could tell how passionate I am about this story and how much the Lord is revealing to me. As I told her, I'm not so sure about the market for this book. Do you know how much it sucks to be familiar with the market, to know what's selling, and to realize that the book you're writing does not fit into that category at the moment? But I just feel like God is taking me on this crazy journey for a reason and there's something He wants to reveal to me through this story.
Is it weird that I talk about God working through me on a book and yet I also am killing people in the same book? More to the point, I'm blowing them up. I honestly thought I was only a chapter away. But nooooo.... all the other stuff has to get dealt with before we can blow them up. I still have to figure out how to get all the baddies in there at once. And I don't want to kill off Tony, but I think I have to. It's nice to have a martyr in an allegorical book, doncha think?
Trying to get some done tonight, and I'm starting to get irritated because I'm ready to just blow up the bad guys already. The one bad guy just makes my skin crawl. I've also realized just how much I need to research. OH! I just realized who would know the answers to my questions. I love having smart writer friends who don't think I'm weird when I ask my questions. Anyway, I always thought that killing off a few bad guys would be really easy. Um, not so much. Because you have to make sure the readers are okay with them dying, and that all the other characters are sympathetic, and blah blah blah.
I'm also irritated because once again, my CPs thought my hero was um, yucky. How is it that I can think this man is soooo freaking awesome and hot and tormented and sensitive and all things a hero in the making should be and they think he's a total loser? Am I just attracted to losers? And I'm sorta scared, because as I write this Nano book, with a heroine who, by today's standards, is a loser, I worry-do I have a hope of bringing out all the things I love about her on to the page so that my readers fall in love with her and want her to win just as badly as I do?
I was talking to Joni about it today, and she got excited because she could tell how passionate I am about this story and how much the Lord is revealing to me. As I told her, I'm not so sure about the market for this book. Do you know how much it sucks to be familiar with the market, to know what's selling, and to realize that the book you're writing does not fit into that category at the moment? But I just feel like God is taking me on this crazy journey for a reason and there's something He wants to reveal to me through this story.
Is it weird that I talk about God working through me on a book and yet I also am killing people in the same book? More to the point, I'm blowing them up. I honestly thought I was only a chapter away. But nooooo.... all the other stuff has to get dealt with before we can blow them up. I still have to figure out how to get all the baddies in there at once. And I don't want to kill off Tony, but I think I have to. It's nice to have a martyr in an allegorical book, doncha think?
Crazy Crazy Days...
So I was originally going to blog about the fact that I've had a couple of meltdowns this week due to all the stress in my life. But you've probably figured that out, eh?
However, our friend who's dealing with a rough divorce is in town, and somehow he's ended up staying with us. Which is fine, I'm glad we're able to provide for his need right now. In talking with him, though, I find I keep repeating the same message-the one I've been having to remember for myself with my family and other things. But I'm going to save that message for the enemy prayer blog, which I'll hopefully do tonight.
Then, I got an email from a friend asking me if an offer to stay with us I'd made was still open. I called her and we talked-so come next month, we've got a houseguest for an unspecified amount of time.
It's a crazy thing-on one hand, it's completely not in my personality to allow anyone withing my sacred fortress. However, God has been leading us in this direction for a while. One of the things I've always felt convicted on is that if we have the ability to meet a person's need, we need to do so. It's a conviction that has grown stronger over time. Then, when my brain got totally messed up because of reading The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne and I'd thought that it would be cool to live in community with others. We have friends who open their spare bedrooms to people who need a place to stay. We've always said we'd like to do something like that but never knew of anyone who needed it.
So here is is... our chance to live the faith we've said we wanted to live. All this time, I've felt like I've been waiting for God to jump up and say, "okay, here it is..." Well, it's happening.
The friend visiting now, he's looking for guidance-on being a husband, a father, a Christian. Are we living our lives in such a way that the things we're telling him, teaching him, come to life? Or are we just the hypocrites he's seen in so many others who've disappointed him?
The trouble with saying you believe something is that at some point, you'll be expected to live it. The trouble with a lot of people who claim to have faith is that they never take that actual step of living it. I finally picked up the new Jars of Clay CD, Good Monsters, today, and I think the most interesting thing about it (besides the fact that *gasp* I'm blogging about music other than Todd's) is that one of the main themes of most of the songs, at least in my opinion, is living out your faith in an authentic way-living what you believe.
Am I succeeding? Not so much as I like. Even though I feel like I'm able to act in ways that express my faith, I still am shamed by how little I live what I believe. When we went out with our friend last night, another friend, joined us. Truth be told, the guy is a former friend who stole a lot of money from That Man. What surprised me was how much compassion That Man and his other friend had for this guy. The money that was stolen really hit That Man hard at the time. Honestly, I'd forgotten this guy existed. And yet, the way he was welcomed back into the fold surprised me. I realized that there is still a lot of places in my heart needing to be swept out.
Ultimately, the biggest challenge that comes with living out your faith is that it reveals places where your faith needs to be strengthened. It's crazy-my life is crazy enough as it is. And yet, the craziness excites me. I long for that closeness with God, that further refining of my sinful nature into a more holy creation.
However, our friend who's dealing with a rough divorce is in town, and somehow he's ended up staying with us. Which is fine, I'm glad we're able to provide for his need right now. In talking with him, though, I find I keep repeating the same message-the one I've been having to remember for myself with my family and other things. But I'm going to save that message for the enemy prayer blog, which I'll hopefully do tonight.
Then, I got an email from a friend asking me if an offer to stay with us I'd made was still open. I called her and we talked-so come next month, we've got a houseguest for an unspecified amount of time.
It's a crazy thing-on one hand, it's completely not in my personality to allow anyone withing my sacred fortress. However, God has been leading us in this direction for a while. One of the things I've always felt convicted on is that if we have the ability to meet a person's need, we need to do so. It's a conviction that has grown stronger over time. Then, when my brain got totally messed up because of reading The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne and I'd thought that it would be cool to live in community with others. We have friends who open their spare bedrooms to people who need a place to stay. We've always said we'd like to do something like that but never knew of anyone who needed it.
So here is is... our chance to live the faith we've said we wanted to live. All this time, I've felt like I've been waiting for God to jump up and say, "okay, here it is..." Well, it's happening.
The friend visiting now, he's looking for guidance-on being a husband, a father, a Christian. Are we living our lives in such a way that the things we're telling him, teaching him, come to life? Or are we just the hypocrites he's seen in so many others who've disappointed him?
The trouble with saying you believe something is that at some point, you'll be expected to live it. The trouble with a lot of people who claim to have faith is that they never take that actual step of living it. I finally picked up the new Jars of Clay CD, Good Monsters, today, and I think the most interesting thing about it (besides the fact that *gasp* I'm blogging about music other than Todd's) is that one of the main themes of most of the songs, at least in my opinion, is living out your faith in an authentic way-living what you believe.
Am I succeeding? Not so much as I like. Even though I feel like I'm able to act in ways that express my faith, I still am shamed by how little I live what I believe. When we went out with our friend last night, another friend, joined us. Truth be told, the guy is a former friend who stole a lot of money from That Man. What surprised me was how much compassion That Man and his other friend had for this guy. The money that was stolen really hit That Man hard at the time. Honestly, I'd forgotten this guy existed. And yet, the way he was welcomed back into the fold surprised me. I realized that there is still a lot of places in my heart needing to be swept out.
Ultimately, the biggest challenge that comes with living out your faith is that it reveals places where your faith needs to be strengthened. It's crazy-my life is crazy enough as it is. And yet, the craziness excites me. I long for that closeness with God, that further refining of my sinful nature into a more holy creation.
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