About My Dad...by Wendy

My daddy's name is James.
He is 91 years old, 91 inches tall and weighs 36 pounds.
His favorite food is macaroni and cheese.
My daddy is really good at drawing pictures.
He loves to draw.
My favorite things to do with my dad are drive Mario Kart! And play with him.
I'm just like my dad because I am four.
What I love most about my daddy is huggies and kissies! I like him giving presents to me at Christmas.
It makes Dad happy when I am being good.

Happy Father's Day!

Lightning Bug Nights

Last night I caught my first lightning bug of the year, and it made me think of a post I wrote three years ago. As I held the magic flashing bug in my cupped hands for my children to see, I remembered myself about 25 years ago...


Originally published 7/15/08

Certain summer nights, regardless of where I am in the world, bring back poignant memories of childhood. There's a certain something in the air - high humidity, the way the leftover storm clouds hang in the sky, the smell of earthworms on the sidewalk, and the music of cicadas filling the sky.

Some of my strongest memories involve summer nights at my grandparents' house in southeastern Ohio. Earlier in the afternoon, the family would have feasted on corn-on-the-cob, baked beans, cottage cheese, sliced tomatoes, and hamburgers, all eaten at the old picnic table on the back porch.

After eating, the adults would retire to lawn chairs in the shade to talk, or to sleep, or to avoid Great-Aunt Margaret. The kids would raid the shed for the wiffle ball and bat, the giant plastic boats, and all kinds of intriguing antique toys that were hidden in the depths of the dark shed, which always smelled like warm wood and turpentine.

After a while, Grandpa would get up from his chair and start breaking apart the ice for the ice cream maker. (For some reason, this was always a big production, involving the bag of ice, a heavy canvas bag, and a small hammer.) Grandma would be in the kitchen mixing up the world's best vanilla ice cream (I'm not even kidding) and the sounds of gossip would come drifting out the kitchen window, as all of the female relatives took care of the cleaning up.

The taste of the fresh, not-quite-solid vanilla ice cream was enough to dispel the lingering taste of Deep Woods Off, and you could hear everyone give a little sigh of contentment with that first bite. Homemade vanilla ice cream, made with pure Mexican vanilla and my grandma's loving hands, needed no additions - it was a perfect delight.

After the ice cream, after the toys were put away, after the wiffle ball and frisbee were retrieved from the roof, came our favorite time - the lightning bugs were starting to come out. (Some of you might call them fireflies, but they've always been lightning bugs to us.) Grandma would hand out old baby food jars with holes in the lids, and my brother & my cousins & I would begin to hunt.

It's not hard to catch lightning bugs, so we'd all fill our jars pretty quickly. Then we'd go find our parents sitting by the campfire that Grandpa had built in his fire ring, and watch the fire and our lightning bugs while we listened to our favorite grown-ups talk about everything and nothing. When the yawns started taking over I'd be shuttled inside, and put to bed in my Dad's old bedroom, in the twin bed with the strawberry-patterned sheets - Grandma knew those were my favorites.

With the window open, I could hear the gentle sound of conversation continuing in the backyard, even over the window fan. My lightning bugs flashed on the bedside table. I scratched a mosquito bite, and then drifted off in perfect comfort and security. I hope my daughter has memories like these someday.

Do you have similar memories from childhood?

Anger Management

To look at her, you might think she's my mini-me. She looks so much like Mommy, and even more like pictures of Mommy as a young girl.

However, in some respects, our personalities couldn't be more different. I can summarize it like this:

• Me: quiet, shy, a thinker rather than a talker, a planner rather than a doer
  
• Wendy: a singing, dancing, yelling, running, talking Talking TALKING dynamo

The contrast is most evident in how we deal with our emotions. I tend to come across as being calm (despite the inner chaos of my emotional state sometimes). I rarely blow up, and when I do, it fizzles out almost immediately.

But when this girl gets mad? This sweet, charming, loveable princess of a 4 year old?

Oh my word.

The girl can throw a FIT. Stomping, screeching, yelling, hitting, throwing things...if allowed to go unchecked she might just be Tennessee's first case of spontaneous combustion. We have struggled with how to help her deal with her emotions; it's obvious that she is a person that feels things deeply, acutely, strongly. That is a good trait, one that we want to preserve and train - the world needs more passionate people! But how to prune the bad so that the good can grow?

In my desperation the other day, a Scripture came to mind. I had to look up the reference; it's Ephesians 4:26a:

In your anger, do not sin.

That's it. It doesn't get much simpler than that. Anger is a normal emotion - we even see evidence of God's righteous anger in many different situations in the Bible. Anger is a natural response that we will have to deal with all of our lives, and that is okay. That is not the problem. How we act when we are angry is what is important. And even a passionate, headstrong 4 year old can learn that lesson.

I have taught Wendy this verse, and now, just as I can tell she is in danger of spiraling out of control, we say it together. I get her attention and say, "In your anger...?" She (grudgingly) sighs and says, "...don't sin." It defuses the situation and gives us a chance to talk about things without going into the full-blown fury. It lets us connect and bond and learn from each other, and we've made a lot of progress just in the last few days.

And guess what? Correcting with scripture isn't a new idea!

I Timothy 3:16 : All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness...

Summer Days

Around here, summer means:

• bug spray
• getting mosquito bites anyway
• sunscreen
• freckles
• sand
• Aveeno Anti-Itch Cream
• grass clippings
• wading pools
• lightning bugs
• sweaty heads
• daily baths
• lots of tomatoes
• popsicles
• hide-and-seek
• oversized T-shirts as PJs
• bare feet
• dirty feet
• going to bed late
• sleeping late(ish)

What does summer mean to you and your family?

My Job

Yesterday morning I was working on making a chore chart for Wendy. She's 4 1/2 and is fully capable of doing simple things like making her bed and picking out her clothes, so it's time for her to learn about responsibility. I've made a simple chart with two sections, "Morning Chores" and "Afternoon Chores." I'm going to stick it on the refrigerator and give her some magnets; she'll be able to move her magnets from "To Do" to "Done!" as she completes the tasks.

Wendy saw me drawing simple pictures for her chart. She's not quite reading yet, so the pictures are just to remind her of the different tasks. Anyway, she asked what I was making, so I explained to her that I was making a chore chart of different jobs that she would have each day. She said, "I want to make one for YOU!" She asked for a piece of paper and got busy writing.

According to her, these are my chores:

1. Make pancakes
2. Blow bubbles
3. Drive when Daddy's not coming
4. Tuck Wendy into bed
5. Put bows in Wendy's hair
6. Buy stuff
7. Pick flowers for someone if I want to
8. Bring my purse everywhere
9. Drink a little bit of coffee

I laughed when she got to #9, and she said, "I know that that's a little bit silly, but that's your job!"

I love my job.

Eleven Goals for 2011

I won't call these "resolutions," but rather things I would like to accomplish in 2011. These aren't in any particular order; I'm not sure what I'll tackle first!

1. Get the kids' bedroom moved upstairs.
2. Set up the playroom/schoolroom downstairs.
3. De-clutter wherever possible.
4. Paint the bathroom.
5. Paint the kitchen.
6. Strip & repaint old porch swing.
7. Paint porch railing.
8. Establish a regular Bible study schedule.
9. Establish a regular exercise schedule.
10. Take more pictures.
11. Do something creative every day.

What's on your list this year?

A Job Well Done

In March of 2006 I became a homemaker, and in September of 2006 I became a stay-at-home mom. In all of that time, I have never - not once - felt like I was doing a good job. Sure, I enjoy what I do. Sure, I occasionally get one or two areas of life on track.

But I have never felt like I was living up to my "contract." There are many excuses I could make - depression, sleep-deprivation, health problems - but those things are just parts of life that I need to cope with right now. I need to push past the problems and get things done.

"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving." Colossians 2:23-24

Here are some specific areas I'll be working on this year:

1. Personal study and prayer time
2. Be a more supportive & loving wife
3. Interact more with my children
4. Less computer time
5. Daily exercise
6. Start healthy eating habits
7. Keep a cleaner house

I see 2010 as full of possibility and hope. I want to focus on my job this year, and start living for someone other than myself. I hope that you will be able to see evidence of growth and change in my blog throughout the year.

Please pray for me, that I will have His strength and peace as I try to get things right. And please stop by and encourage me whenever you can - I could use the support!

Happy New Year!

Where I've Been

I think that pretty much sums it up. Here are some highlights of what I've been up to while taking an unannounced blogging break:

• Took the kids to get their professional pictures done. Finally. Split the difference between David's 3-month and Wendy's 3-year, and called it good. Pictures turned out great, but the day was exhausting.
• Dealt with another (ANOTHER) round of contact allergic dermatitis. Another looong day waiting to be seen at the walk-in clinic, a 2-hour wait at the pharmacy, a desperate need for chocolate. (And seriously, Wal-Mart pharmacy - all you had to do was grab the thing off the shelf & stick a label on it. Didn't even need to count anything. WHY did that take 2 hours?!? Next time I'll go to Walgreens.)
• Drove down to Tallahassee to visit James' family. With a 3 month old. And a 3 year old. It was a LONG trip.
• A few days later, drove to Orlando to visit more family. A not-quite-as-long day.
• In Orlando: stayed up too late talking, played games, went swimming, was bitten by a duck, forcibly removed said duck from the pool, and went to the zoo.
• Back to Tallahassee. More family, some shopping, scattered tantrums here and there (from Wendy, not me), not enough sleep.
• Drove home from Tallahassee. Somehow made it home in time to have the kids in bed around 9 p.m.
• Spent last week cooped up inside because of the rain.
  
• Going a little bit out of my mind with Wendy's most recent phase.
  

And that's pretty much it. I'll try to get back to blogging more regularly, because I've missed it!

Awesome

I think I brag on James fairly regularly on my blog, because he's a great guy. Definitely not perfect, but a great husband, a wonderful father, a conscientious employee, and a stubborn seeker-of-God.

One of my favorite roles of his? Grocery shopper.

With this pregnancy, he has taken on the additional burden of being our family grocery shopper. And about half the time, he takes Wendy with him, meaning I get a few hours of quiet AND a replenished kitchen. Sure, he has to call me a couple of times each trip to ask for clarification about something on the list, or if I know where in the world Kroger hides the relish, but it's totally worth it.

I'm serious - I haven't set foot in a grocery store since maybe November. I don't miss it.

In a few weeks, after David arrives & we get a bit more settled, I'll have to take over the grocery shopping again. I'm not looking forward to it, but I have been so thankful to have this time of rest.

Auto-Focus

You may have noticed from the tone & frequency of my posts that I'm feeling much better. I still have days when the nausea returns, or the exhaustion reaches a level I just can't work through, but in general, I feel roughly 500% better than I did even two short months ago. And I've come to realize that illness (and hormones) make me a very self-centered, self-absorbed, self-focused person.

While I think that's understandable given the situation and the extent of physical discomfort & despair I was in, that time has passed. It's time to move on.

There are times in life when it seems like God is trying to tell me something. Not like actual verbal instructions (although I think that would be terrifying & also quite nice), but more of an urging in a certain direction. It often manifests in a repeating idea that comes through conversations with others, Bible class topics, sermons, even music & whatever books I happen to be reading.

Right now, I think God is reminding me that I am to be a servant. My job, in His kingdom and in real life, is to serve others. That means I need to be serving James and serving my family, instead of constantly sitting back & letting others serve me. As I said, there is a time for that, and that time has passed.

It's going to take effort. It's going to take constant reminders to not slip back into auto-focus - that typical self-centered way of thinking.


Philippians 2:5-7 (NIV)
Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.

If...

...a toddler who normally naps for 3 hours every single afternoon doesn't nap at all

...exhausted, crabby pregnant Mama doesn't get to nap either

...dinner plans are thrown awry by an important ingredient missing from the pantry

IF all of that is true...
...the right course of action is NOT for said exhausted, crabby pregnant Mama to attempt to make it all from scratch, involving 3 boiling pots, a hot oven, and constant whisking, all while dodging/placating the VERY crabby toddler.

Also - a little bit of flour spilled on a linoleum floor is very slippery.

NaBloPoMo

November is National Blog Posting Month! The goal of the challenge is to post something every day during the month, to progress towards being a more regular - maybe even daily - writer. I haven't been good about posting regularly for the last several weeks, so I'm taking up the challenge to get back into the groove of writing.

This weekend will be a tough one for me, because my in-laws are visiting. (You can read about our difficult relationship here.) The morning did NOT get off to a good start; they were supposed to call this morning when they were up & about, and James was going to tell them to come by around 11 a.m. Instead, Girlie and I had just gotten up, hadn't even gotten dressed, when there was a knock at the door. At 8 a.m. On a Saturday morning. With a nauseated pregnant woman & hungry toddler in pajamas inside.

I didn't answer the door, since I didn't consider my attire to be "decent." I called James to come get the door, but by the time he came downstairs, they were gone. He called them & gently reminded them that he asked them to CALL in the morning, not stop by at the crack of dawn. Sigh.

So, right now, James and Wendy are on their way to meet my in-laws in town. I stayed at home to clean up a bit before chaos ensues.

I'm hoping for a good weekend. I'll settle for a short weekend. Pray for my attitude, patience, & health, please!

Ailurophile

Main Entry: ai·lu·ro·phile

Pronunciation: \ī-ˈlu̇r-ə-ˌfī(-ə)l, ā-\
Function: noun
Etymology: Greek ailouros cat
Date: 1927
: a cat fancier : a lover of cats

That's according to Merriam-Webster's online dictionary. I am, and always have been, a cat lover. Cats have always delighted me. From their birth as blind, fuzzy little mousies; to kittenhood as obnoxious, fluffy pranksters; to adulthood as somnolent, purring sunshine-seekers; to geriatric life, as cranky, scrawny, dictators. No matter the stage of life, I enjoy them.

I love their huge, luminous eyes. I love their dainty, prissy paws. I love their dramatic, varied facial expressions. I love their individual, quirky personalities.

I have almost always lived with at least one cat. Many have come and gone: Bandit, Friskie, Trouble, Piano, Fortissimo, Giocoso, Formata, Staccato, Allegro, and my special Sebastian. Each came into my life for a time, was fiercely loved, and left either for a new home or cat heaven. (And don't try to tell me there aren't cats in heaven - God loves them just as much as I do.)

Currently we have five cats: Minuet, Sonata, Maestro, Oreo Speedwagon, and Birdie. There's also the outside cat, Matilda, who supposedly belongs to our neighbor. (Funny, though, how we're the ones who got her spayed, feed her every morning, and take care of her flea prevention.) I know these kitties inside and out - quite literally for Birdie, who I performed surgery on several times in her kittenhood. They are my daily annoyances, who distribute cat hair to every household surface, who trip me on my way to the kitchen, and who try to jump into my bowl of ice cream at every opportunity.

The benefits far outweigh the costs:

• Cats are excellent nap buddies. All I have to do is act like I'm about to lay down, and Maestro and Birdie are on the bed, waiting to snuggle.
• They let me know when it's bedtime. Their food bowl gets refilled at bedtime, so around 8:30 p.m., they gather around me and stare, trying to will me into feeding them.
• They (usually) reduce my stress level just by their presence. Snuggling them & talking to them calms me down when I'm anxious or sad.
• They're also good mousers. Except for Minuet, who once bopped a mouse on the head in disgust, and then promptly took a bath.

Besides, who can resist these faces, or the way they intertwine their paws?

Sonata, L, and Minuet, R

1998

About twelve years ago, I was starting as a college freshman at Harding University. One of the first people I met there was a nice guy named James. My best friend instantly took a liking to him, so my roommates and I contrived ways to throw them together.

Little did we know that in throwing the two of them together, we were also throwing the two of us together - and a few months later he shocked me by asking me out. Instead of her. Really. Aren't I a good friend? (A story for another time - but I will say we're still best friends, and she's happily married and expecting her 2nd child!)

We dated seriously all that spring semester, and when summer began, I (tearfully) went home to Virginia, and he went home to Florida. Other than one week during the summer, we were apart for three months.

In the fall we were reunited again for about a week before I (tearfully) flew to London for the semester. I didn't want to go. I wanted to stay on campus with my safe little life, and be near James. He made me go - he lovingly encouraged me to leave him for three months...and it was the most important semester in my college years. (Another story for another time.)

There were many (tearful) trans-Atlantic phone conversations that semester. After a semester in London and a whirlwind tour western Europe, I flew back to campus, and James proposed the next morning, December 17th, 1997. (Yet another story for another time!)

Ten years ago today, we tied the knot. Our wedding was simple, and beautiful, and short. We were surrounded by our families & best friends, and even though police were called and we had a fire (no joke), it was a wonderful day. That's what the pictures tell me, anyway - it's all kind of a blur in my memory.

Since that day, I have grown to love James more and more with each passing year, with each crisis or new stage in our lives, and definitely as we have become parents. He has been by my side and pulled me through depression, anxiety attacks, vet school, poor health, deep discouragement, a very difficult pregnancy, and new parenthood.

He has been my partner in giggle fits, my competition in Mario Kart, my spider squasher, my high-things-reacher, my sounding board, and my resident engineer.

He challenges my thinking when I am too easy on myself. He challenges my priorities and focus. He is an honorable man after God's heart, and he thrives on helping people and showing love. He's a dedicated Daddy, and he holds Wendy's heart in his hands.


Our life may not look quite how we imagined ten years ago today, but I wouldn't trade any step of our journey - because every step has been with you.

I love you, my Squeak. Happy Anniversary!

In Desperate Need Of A Sunburn

I've been going through another rough patch lately. I try not to blog about it too much, because really, who wants to read the ramblings of a depressed and moody SAHM? Today was an especially hard day, though, and for no external reasons. The reasons are purely internal.

Then I realized...this time next week, I could very well be here:


Panama City Beach. Yes, ma'am. I'm not usually a beach person - the seaweed, salt water in my mouth, and inevitable sunburn are enough to keep me away...usually. But right now, at this point in time, I'm really craving some beach time. Some lay-in-the-sun, look-at-the-waves, think-about-nothing beach time.

Our trip won't be all-fun; we're going to visit my in-laws. I won't dwell on that, but I will say this: sometimes there are people in life that you love because you're supposed to.

One day of our trip, though, will be ours. My man, my girlie, and a beach. I am SO looking forward to it!

Lightning Bug Nights

Certain summer nights, regardless of where I am in the world, bring back poignant memories of childhood. There's a certain something in the air - high humidity, the way the leftover storm clouds hang in the sky, the smell of earthworms on the sidewalk, and the music of cicadas filling the sky.

Some of my strongest memories involve summer nights at my grandparents' house in southeastern Ohio. Earlier in the afternoon, the family would have feasted on corn-on-the-cob, baked beans, cottage cheese, sliced tomatoes, and hamburgers, all eaten at the old picnic table on the back porch.

After eating, the adults would retire to lawn chairs in the shade to talk, or to sleep, or to avoid Great-Aunt Margaret. The kids would raid the shed for the wiffle ball and bat, the giant plastic boats, and all kinds of intriguing antique toys that were hidden in the depths of the dark shed, which always smelled like warm wood and turpentine.

After a while, Grandpa would get up from his chair and start breaking apart the ice for the ice cream maker. (For some reason, this was always a big production, involving the bag of ice, a heavy canvas bag, and a small hammer.) Grandma would be in the kitchen mixing up the world's best vanilla ice cream (I'm not even kidding) and the sounds of gossip would come drifting out the kitchen window, as all of the female relatives took care of the cleaning up.

The taste of the fresh, not-quite-solid vanilla ice cream was enough to dispel the lingering taste of Deep Woods Off, and you could hear everyone give a little sigh of contentment with that first bite. Homemade vanilla ice cream, made with pure Mexican vanilla and my grandma's loving hands, needed no additions - it was a perfect delight.

After the ice cream, after the toys were put away, after the wiffle ball and frisbee were retrieved from the roof, came our favorite time - the lightning bugs were starting to come out. (Some of you might call them fireflies, but they've always been lightning bugs to us.) Grandma would hand out old baby food jars with holes in the lids, and my brother & my cousins & I would begin to hunt.

It's not hard to catch lightning bugs, so we'd all fill our jars pretty quickly. Then we'd go find our parents sitting by the campfire that Grandpa had built in his fire ring, and watch the fire and our lightning bugs while we listened to our favorite grown-ups talk about everything and nothing. When the yawns started taking over I'd be shuttled inside, and put to bed in my Dad's old bedroom, in the twin bed with the strawberry-patterned sheets - Grandma knew those were my favorites.

With the window open, I could hear the gentle sound of conversation continuing in the backyard, even over the window fan. My lightning bugs flashed on the bedside table. I scratched a mosquito bite, and then drifted off in perfect comfort and security. I hope my daughter has memories like these someday.

Do you have similar memories from childhood?

Food Budget

One of my biggest struggles in my role as wife/mother/general-picker-upper is sticking to a budget. Sometimes it's my impulsiveness that gets in the way, sometimes I don't keep track of what I'm spending, but more and more often, it's simply the cost of groceries that causes me problems.

Our big grocery expenses this time last year were formula and diapers. Wendy's off formula now, and we use cloth diapers, so both of those items are gone. Wendy doesn't eat much; I think her diet is responsible for about $30 per month of our overall grocery expenditures. (That's a big word.)

Even with those significant savings, our monthly grocery spending is more than last year. And it seems like it's creeping up all the time. I try to make a trip to the store once a week, and alternate a big trip with a small trip, since usually every other week we only need the perishable stuff.

I know I could probably save more if I shopped around, but with gas prices being what they are, I don't really feel free to drive around a bunch looking for deals. We used coupons a lot for a while, but decided that we were pretty much breaking even after figuring the cost of the newspaper. I haven't been using my Sam's Club membership, and that's something I'm going to start again, to hopefully save money on things we can buy in bulk.

I guess all this rambling is my way of asking you for help. What do you do to help keep grocery costs down? Are you happy with your grocery budget? Are there cheap sources of healthy food that I'm overlooking?