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2006/03/30 DreamsThis morning, I got up and finished The Dream Giver, by Bruce Wilkenson. The first half of the book is a story about a man called Ordinary, a Nobody who lives in the Land of Familiar. The Dream Giver gives Ordinary a big dream, and the rest of the story is about him taking the steps and risks to live out his big dream. There are Border Bullies, Giants, a Wasteland, and a Sanctuary that Ordinary meets and travels through on his journey to discovering his big dream. The second half of the book is the application part to anyone else who feels like God has given them a big dream to live out for Him.
This blog isn't necessarily an endorsement for the book. As a matter of fact, I'm not sure what I think about the book. Throughout the short 160 page journey, I found myself wrestling with the concepts, and "truths" presented. And of course, I found myself wondering what my big dream might be. I have a lot of dreams for my life, but many of them aren't God-honoring kinds of dreams. Even some of the ones that might be God-honoring on the outside really aren't, when I look deep into my heart where the true motives lie.
When I started writing songs almost 5 years ago, something happened inside of me. It was like part of me woke up for the first time. The best part of it was, it was something that took me to a deeper place with God. Not just because I was writing about Him, but because along the way there have been so many opportunities to need Him. There have been so many struggles that have forced me to go to His word and to prayer.
There have been struggles with motivation for why I'm writing. When God's taken me to the place where I feel like my motives are right, there have been new temptations not to trust Him for what the future holds. There have been struggles with pride and competitiveness, and a need to be validated by people more than God. There have been struggles with handling praise and criticism in a way that would honor God. I've struggled with feeling inadequate, unimportant, less talented, misunderstood, and just downright un-cool. I've struggled with theological issues, with conviction issues, industry issues, morality issues.
And then, there have been these amazing moments when there is peace, joy, excitement, and a sureness that my heart is resting in Him and desiring to honor Him with this "dream," if you will. There is a growing sense of conviction that God wants me to honor Him by writing songs about Him. What He's going to do with that is completely a mystery to me in some respects, but I'm getting more settled with not needing to know the specifics. God keeps bringing to my mind a phrase that Bach used to write in the margins of his music: Soli Deo Gloria....Only for God's glory.
His glory...I want that to be my dream. I want His glory to be the thing that satisfies me most, no matter how it may look. He may have given me this dream to reach thousands of people for His glory. He may have given me this dream to reach one person in my church, for His glory. God may have given me this dream to help me get through the years of raising small children, or to keep my mind occupied so I wouldn't wander to areas of temptation, both for His glory as well. He knows...and that needs to be enough for me. It isn't always, to tell the truth. I'm just thankful that right now....at 6:35 am on March 30, 2006...it's enough. 2006/03/28 SurprisesUsually, I'm not a fan of surprises. When Bart and I first got married, he tried to whisk me off for a surprise weekend at a bed and breakfast in a local antiquing town. I got home and he was waiting for me, with our suitcases packed. I wasn't very happy. I wouldn't get in the car until he told me where we were going. (I know, I know, he's awesome, and I'm a worrysome fun killer)
When I turned 30, he threw me a surprise birthday party. It was one of the worst days of my life. I had been painting 15x30 foot murals all day at the church for vacation bible school and was covered in paint. When I walked in the house, it was full of clean, beautifully dressed and coiffed friends. The first thought in my head was...oh no...my bedroom had piles of dirty laundry all over....I haven't cleaned my toilets this week...I look terrible. Don't worry, I recovered enough to bless my friends and my husband and act thrilled and surprised....(but I was FREAKIN out inside)
But, slowly, as the years pass, I'm starting to recognize life's surprises as gifts from God. It's easier to let go of control and pettiness when God is behind it. Today God surprised me, and it was pretty cool.
Our homeschool group had a field trip to Lincoln today. We were to tour the State Capitol Building, and then go to lunch. We met at the church, and co-ordinated who was riding with whom. My daughter dashed out of the jeep and dove in a van full of gigling girls, which left me with my crying 6 year old and 3 extra seats. The leader of our pack of cars yelled at me that the three oldest boys in the group were going to ride with me. Just then, as I started to have a mini-panic attack (what do you talk about with teenage boys? is Sarah going to cry even harder because she won't have anyone to talk to?) they started coming towards me....cd players, floppy hair, packs of pop tarts, elbowing each other. I'm thinking...oh great...I didn't even want to come today, and now I have to keep 3 teenage boys entertained for over an hour.
Here's the surprise: it was a great trip. I let them pop some of their music in my cd player, and for the next hour heard everything from Hawk Nelson (not sure about that title..Hawk somebody anyway), to Sanctus Real, to the Star Wars theme song. These boys were great. It was fun to be a part of their lives for an hour. They're in such transition. One minute they're talking about learning drums, and how to ask girls to prom, and the next they're talking about which episode of Star Wars was the best. Oh, and Sarah was in heaven! She was teasing them and talking to them, and they were laughing and obliging her silliness. It was cool....but a bit scary...hmmmmmm....I think this one, unlike her sister, is going to think boys are AAALLLLRIGHT. When I ask Jenna what she thinks about boys, she says, VERY quickly," NOTHING", and purses her lips and looks out the window. What does that mean?
2006/03/27 Bizarro Friends EpisodeI didn't eat before I went to bed, nor was I on some wacky hallucinogenic, or watching a weird movie. This is a fairly typical type of night in my head:
I had a dream last night involving my daughter Sarah, Matthew Perry, and a current friend of mine. Actually, I'm not sure who it was, it was just someone who was in the car with me. I rode a boat shaped roller coaster with Sarah through the neighborhood, and then drove my blue car with my friend, (ok, maybe it wasn't a friend, maybe it was actually another me, because whoever it was, was nagging me about my driving.) Anyway, the drive was in the dark because I couldn't figure out how to turn on the headlights. We went down a really steep hill, through the grass, and I remember feeling embarrassed that I took a short cut that wasn't really a short cut. (See, I TOTALLY would have nagged myself about that one) We arrived at a tupperware party being had on the lawn of an apartment building I used to live in. Only, I sat on a couch next to a fireplace...that was sitting in the middle of the outdoors. It had a shiny, fancy, reddish mantle and I sat on a tannish yellow leather couch, until I looked into the doorway of the apartment building, and Matthew Perry was there, motioning me to come over. I stood to go over, but the lady called on me and wanted me to help with her demonstration. After that it's a blur.
Wait...maybe that was reality...maybe this is a dream... new outfitRobins are chirping, rain is falling, and pretty much all that's left of the snow in our yard is the bottom of Mr. Snowman. Time for a new spring ensemble for the blog site! I think I'll load some new pics later too. This is way easier than spring cleaning the house. 2006/03/24 just shoot me nowBart and I went to a Habitat for Humanity fundraiser tonight. While we were there, somebody asked me when I was due. It brought back horrific memories of my younger, heavier years. I'm not going to leave the house again. Not until this "baby" weight is off. So, I'll see all of you next Christmas.....or in 07....or...in heaven. Actually, I felt worse for the lady asking. I've been in her shoes, and at the moment you find out you're asking a portly person instead of a pregnant person when they are due, you want someone to shoot you, or reverse time like Superman did when he flew around the world really fast, so you can take back that small but oh-so-power-packed question. I'm sure she'll avoid me in the grocery store or wherever else she sees me for the next year...oh wait...she won't need to because I'm not leaving the house....not until I need more applesauce and ice cream anyway. Actually...the Schwan's man can probably hook me up there, so I'm golden.
2006/03/23 Cigs in a BlanketThere is an aroma I like to call "Cigs in a Blanket." It is the aroma that clings to you like a tick on a dog when you sit for longer than 10 minutes in a pancake house type restaurant. When I worked at Perkins in college, there was a menu item called pigs in a blanket that was pancakes wrapped around sausages. So, the pancake smell with cigarette smell is the aroma to which I refer.
I had coffee with friends tonight at Village Inn and it was great. I have wonderful friends.
But now I stink. (more than usual, that is)
2006/03/22 ORVINGSometimes, the things that we like most about someone can become the things that can be the most annoying. Tonight, I was thinking about that after an utterly failed attempt at slipping into a restaurant and having a quick, unnoticed-by-anyone- dinner.
I'm tired, depressed, and stressed out. And in that kind of state of mind, the 10 pound "addition" to my person feels like 150 pounds when I'm out in public. I know it's shallow, but it is what it is. (what in the heck does that mean...and mom don't worry, I'm fine...last time I said I had a bad day, she called me as soon as she read my blog) Plus, Bart was gone last week, and I'm still feeling the effects of it. When the kids were at AWANA, Bart suggested grabbing some dinner. It's our usual Wednesday night thing after worship team practice. I said that I didn't feel like going anywhere because I looked terrible and I wasn't in the mood. After that comment, he suggested Applebees.....the busiest restaurant in town. *sigh* (hello? tap...tap...is this thing on?) We ended up at Brass Wok, a local chinese place that's only HALF as busy as Applebee's.
Ok, here's the point of today's yammering: My husband is the most social, friendly, genuinely caring person I've met, next to his dad, Orv. However, tonight....I'M NOT IN THE MOOD TO TALK TO PEOPLE. We went to Brass Wok, and in the parking lot, ran into a man and his wife who works at the bank with Bart. We talked all the way to the counter. Then, on the way out, we ran into a customer and stood and made nice chit chat for a few minutes. I've been craving cinnamon applesauce poured over vanilla icecream (NO IM NOT PREGNANT, AND YES, IT'S AWESOME) so we stopped at the local grocery store on the way to pick up the kids. 10 feet in...pastor's wife sighting and more chit chat. On the way out, a doctor friend of Bart's.
Bart's dad, Orv, knows half the state. Granted, we're not an overly populated region, but that's still a pretty good list of folks he knows. I'm not kidding about this...no matter where we go with Orv, he knows someone. Orv's brother-in-law went on a cruise in the Caribbean and met someone on the boat who knew Orv! Mary, his wife, says she hates taking him to the grocery store because she's there for 2 hours. So, when Bart starts mixing and mingling, we have coined the phrase that he's "Orving."
You should have seen the "Orving" extravaganza that went on at State Basketball Tournament a few weeks back. Orv was a ref for 38 years, and Bart's been one for over 20. They were in HEAVEN. In that situation, I love to watch them. They're having a blast, doing what they love to do, and I'm proud to be a part of their family. But tonight, there needed to be less Orving and more....more...more...well, the opposite of Orving...what would that be...Lisa-ing, I guess. Lisa-ing would be the act of putting the face down, walking quickly to the counter, ordering the food, reading a magazine while it's being made, never looking up to scope out who might be there to say hello to, and then shoveling in the food quickly so that you can get in your car and drive home to watch American Idol, erm, I mean PBS. (really, I don't like it, I was just seeing if you were paying attention)
Time for another bowl of ice cream and applesauce.
Oh, and my daughter just came running upstairs and told me that Kevin got eliminated on American Idol tonight. I haven't broken the news to her yet. 2006/03/21 I Tried, I Really TriedTonight, I sat down with my family and watched American Idol. I'd watched a few here and there over the years but never really sat down and got "into" it like the rest of my family. Wanting to be able to have something to say in pretty much any conversation I've been having with people lately, I decided that maybe I should start watching.
Here's my newbie's opinion:
Simon is the only one who knows what he's talking about.
Paula doesn't say much more than "you looked great tonight" and "you're going to go far" (sidebar: my daughter Jenna thinks her name is really Pohhlah, because of the way Simon says it. It's so cute to hear her talk about how "The only person Pohhlah DOESN'T like is Simon." She did something similar when she was 4. We bought a video called P.B. Bear. It's an adorable British bear, and of course the announcer says Beah, instead of Bear. She called him P.B. Beah for a year! We need a video with Pohhhla and P.B. Beah!)
If I hear Randy say DAWG, or DUDE, or you PLAYED IT OUT one more time, I'm going to...to...I don't know...but it won't be pretty. He's nice and all, but find something else to say.
I think Chris and Mandisa are the best, but I don't care enough to argue about it.
Ok...2 hours? That's a long time.
The BEST part of the show was the clips showing Barry Manilow. What a great talent he is. And, shame on the contestants who didn't really know who he was. I thought they all showed respect, but most of them seemed fairly ignorant to what a brilliant man he is...until after they spent time with him.
The positives are: it's a very clean show. I'm glad my kids and hubby like it. It teaches them more about music. As a matter of fact, after Stevie Wonder was on last week, Jenna pulled out our Best of Stevie Wonder double disc set after last week's show, and she's been listening to him all week. I think it's cool to hear a 10 year old singing Stevie Wonder songs. My 6 year old declared on Sunday that "Superstition" and "Overjoyed" are her favorites. Plus, my mom and my aunt call during the commercials, and I love that my kids have something in common with them.
I know I'm going to lose some points for taking this stand, but for the other 3 people in this country who aren't deaf and don't care that much for American Idol, I'm with ya. I'm going back to On-line Boggle, PBS, and gardening magazines.
2006/03/20 6 eyed aliens & flying dentistsMy six year old had an infected tooth. She had to have it removed today, and we took her to an oral surgeon to have it done. Her history with dentists has been...erm...well...colorful, to say the least. She hates the dentist, and this time, I knew that even the best of bribes wasn't going to get her to stay still and keep from punching and kicking the dentist. (which happened the first time we took her to have cavities filled) We took her to the surgeon, so they could knock her out. Actually, Bart offered to take her because I am weary of sitting in the waiting room and crying while I hear her crying and screaming.
Well, it turns out that the only crying she did was when they had to take blood from her arm. She wasn't too happy about the Curious George band-aid they gave her either. She asked them if they had Pink Panther band-aids instead.
The first thing she said when she came out of the anesthesia is...."Daddy, you have 4 eyes...you look like an alien." Then, with a glazed stare, she looked over at the nurse and said..."You look like an alien too." And then she looked at the other nurse and said...."you have six eyes, and I had a dream...I dreamed that all the dentists were flying. And, I just dreamed that you took my tooth out."
Ok, if having a tooth removed, and your gum scraped feels like a dream when you get knocked out, sign me up. I'm not afraid of 6 eyed aliens and flying dentists. Not if it means I get to have a jamocha shake from Arby's for dinner. Hide my toothbrush! Pass the candy! I want to eat icecream without guilt and see dentist's fly!!!!!!! 2006/03/17 A Bigger GarageSo, we have a system that has been working pretty well since we moved into this house almost 2 years ago. The garage is a double garage, but it's pretty small, so we have to park our cars a certain way in order to get into them. I park the van on the far right side of the garage because I'm never the first one to leave in the morning. Then, Bart parks the Jeep really close to the van so he'll have enough room on the left to get into his car. That leaves enough room for the grill to go on the left side of the garage in the winter. Between the grill and the Jeep is enough room to sliiiide into the driver's seat.
Bart is in Florida at the NCAA tourney, so I get to drive the Jeep. I went to sliiiiiide into the Jeep today, and I almost crushed my pelvic bone. What happened? Has the garage shrunk? Did the grill get bigger? Is the Jeep just not close enough to the van? hmmmm...So, I ran my errand, and when I got back to the garage, I tried to park as close as I could to the van without taking off the mirrors. When I went to get out of the Jeep...sure enough....once again I almost crushed my pelvic bone, took off my nose, and flattened other things that are already relatively flat (getting flatter by the year...*sigh*) argh! I knew it! I'VE GAINED WEIGHT. I knew things were getting tighter, but for a certain amount of time, rationalizing things away works. Well, today, the truth was smashed out of me. I pulled out the scale and sure enough...10 pounds!
I'm tellin ya...It's going to be easier to build a bigger garage than get this weight off.
2006/03/16 BobbySarah has a few imaginary friends. She tells me that she has "several, sometimes so many she can't remember all of their names." So, today, when we were in the kitchen and she kept saying "Bobby. Bobby. Hey...Bobby" I didn't think much about it. I just figured she was pretending at the counter while waiting for lunch. I was cooking pasta at the stove, and when I turned to face the bar, I realized she was talking to me. The next realization was that there was no more wondering if she was coming down with a cold. It was very obvious. "Bobby" was "mommy." As if time meant something to her, she proceeded to ask me what "tibe" it was.
I'm NOT glad she's sick. However, one positive was that I didn't have to go to bible study tonight. Usually I like going. We have a great group and a wonderful study time. But today was just one of those days that I didn't make it much past getting up. It was a cold, cloudy day both outside and inside my head, so I was totally ok with staying home.
Elizabeth Elliot said something on her radio program years ago that comes to mind on days like this. She said something like "when you feel overwhelmed with life, just do the next thing. " It doesn't cure my anxiety or depression, but it does give me some direction to get through the day. So, when it's "tibe" to make breakfast, I make breakfast. When it's "tibe" for school, we work on school, ludch, didder, and so on. Tonight we finished by watching a boovie. Now, it's almost bedtime and I can hope for a better day tomorrow. Goodnight Bobby! 2006/03/14 a wistful morningMy grandmother Eva liked cardinals. I saw a pair this morning jumping from branch to branch, chasing each other. It made me think of her.
She had really soft skin and a soft, clucky laugh. She was tall and willowy in stature. Her house always smelled nice, and although she was very poor, she took good care of it. She and my parents would sit in her dining room and talk and drink coffee for hours. Her chairs were really old, and every time somebody shifted to cross their legs, the chairs would squeak. No matter where I am, when I hear the sound of creaking chairs, I think about those times in the dining room. At night, they would sit and play Scrabble, and of course drink coffee. My grandma was a pretty docile person, but she was a competitor when it came to Scrabble. There weren't any rules about time in those games. They would take forever trying to find the biggest word. She had this whispery kind of whistle/hum thing she would do with her teeth while she worked and thought.
I would sit and watch, or read her National Geographics and Reader's Digests. When I got older, I played some. She wasn't as competitive with me. My brother was probably off crashing his cars into something, and my aunt June would just sit and rock and listen to the conversation.
It was so quiet in her town. There wasn't any traffic, and at night all you could hear were the trains passing, the chairs squeaking, and witty conversation. Once in a while, my dad would get his guitar out and play around the table. Both my mom and dad are musicians, and so we'd all sing folk songs, like Tom Dooley.
I miss her. 2006/03/11 HomeA great weekend was had by all down at State Tourneys. Bart reffed some great games, and he even got a final. He reffed the class C1 final--Boy's Town vs Louisville. It was a very close, competitive game, and Bart did a great job. Gina and I got all of the songs done for the children's musical, which was a lot of fun for me. My kids got some new clothes, got to see Grandma, Grandpa, and cousin Noah, and consumed massive quantities of tournament junk food.
We sure had fun, but it's wonderful to be home. We walked into the house, and Sarah said...*sigh*...."I like our house. It even smells better than the hotel."
The kids are bathed, in bed, and I'm in bed with my soda and the new issue of American Songwriter, and a gardening magazine. (ok, and a package of hoho's) I'm going to finish this, play some Boggle, and then learn about diminished chords and easy care perennials.
Life is so good. 2006/03/10 Wrinkled noses and Cheerleading Kicks This will be another blog about the differences in my kid's personalities. This time, instead of talking about how they name their stuffed animals, it will be how they shop.
As soon as we got into the store yesterday, Sarah was excited. We entered on the side where the Junior department is, so we decide to shop for Jenna first. Sarah ran from rack to rack saying..."oooooh, Jenna look! Isn't this pretty? You should try this on. Jenna, come here, look! You should try this on." Jenna is already ignoring Sarah, so Sarah starts saying all of this to me. I'm hardly listening, because in my head I'm thinking....oh my goodness....everything here is so immodest! She's 10! She can't wear these lingerie tops, and strappy shirts, and criss/cross/cleavage bearing outfits! Oh...wait here's something..."Jenna, come here. What do you think about this outfit?"
And here's where it starts with Jenna....her classic shopping move: Pursed lips moved over to one side, a wrinkled up nose, and a shake of the head "no." We go through this the entire time. Me saying..."Jenna, this is cool, what do you thnk about this one?" And Jenna pursing the lips, wrinkling the nose, and shaking her head no. I know I need to let her pick out her own clothes, but the pink camoflaged goucho things with drawstrings at the knees just ain't doin it for me. But, I just have to let it go. This isn't a battle that's worth fighting. If her cleavage were showing (ok the space where cleavage should be was showing), then we'd have a battle on our hands. But that's not the case. it's just a case of different tastes.
When we get into the dressing room, we get down to business. Jenna hates trying on clothes, so we move quickly. Put it on, see a nod or the classic nose wrinkle and then move on to the next thing. I'm continually amazed when I see her put on an outfit that looks really cute on her, and she doesn't like it. I DON'T GET IT!!!! Ok.....but it's not a big deal....really..... Out of say, maybe, 20 things we bring into the dressing room, she likes 3. On to Sarah.
Sarah is ooohing and aaaahing as soon as we get to her section. She LOVES everything. If it's pink, she loves it, loves it, LOVVVVES IT! Dresses, shorts, pants, shirts, jammies, she's loving every minute of this process. We get into the dressing room and this is where the stress begins with her. I can't get her to stand still for one second. As soon as she has something on, she's trying to face the mirror and do a dance move or a cheerleading kick. "Oh, this is my favorite!" Every outfit gets that statement...."This is my favorite!" We picked out a church outfit, a soccer outfit, and a short outfit...oh and some Sponge Bob jammies. She's set!
I was literally sweating by the time we left. Jenna makes me mentally sweat (much worse than regular sweating) and Sarah makes me sweat because I'm having to chase her down to try on clothes. It was so worth it though. I'm sure there will be a day I long to go shopping with them, and they'd rather go with friends or by themselves. 2006/03/09 New TurfOk...so when I walk into the coffee shop in my hometown, it's like I'm Norm from Cheers. Everyone knows me, 'cause I'm the "regularist" regular they have. It's a comforting feeling, one I've gotten really used to. And for those of you who've been with me since the beginning of my blog and remember my red sweater entry, I'm a creature of habit...to make an understated understatement.
So, today, I'm sitting in a different coffee shop. We're down in Lincoln for the State Basketball Tournament, and so I had to find another place to get my fixes.....triple shot cappucino, and internet connection. I'm in Gina's domain today. This is HER coffee shop. She's the Norm around here...I'm just an unknown Joe lookin for some Joe. Since I can't go without caffeine or the internet for very long, I'll have to make do with this place. I must say...the coffee is pretty good. The people watching is fun as well. People are more hip down here than up in the sticks where I'm from...guess I better put in my false teeth, huh.
Gina and I are getting together on Saturday to pound out some songs for a kid's musical she and a friend are writing. I'm looking forward to showing up here again with "Norm."
Time for hubby's game #2. 2006/03/08 I'm Not a DuckWe leave this afternoon for the Boy's State Basketball tournament. Bart was asked to officiate the tournament for the third year in a row. We're so proud of him, as it's an honor to be asked to go. Mom and Dad Q bring our nephew and join us for the 3 days we're in Lincoln, and we usually have a blast.
Watching the games, and of course the officials, and seeing the fans is such fun. The games of the smaller schools are the most fun to me. You should see the fans turn out. It seems like the entire town shows up to root on their team. Kids, teachers, parents, grandparents, neighbors, all sporting their school colors and ready to scream for their team......and...... at my husband.
I don't know how Bart does it. He absolutely loves reffing, and all of the screaming doesn't seem to get to him. I always say that I'm not a duck....things just don't roll off my back. I'd be the worst ref in the universe. I'd blow my whistle, make the call, but with a question mark at the end. Traveling? Double dribble? yes? no? maybe? Can I take a poll to see if I was right? If people started yelling at me, I'd probably change the call based on whichever side was yelling at me the loudest. By the end of the game I'd be curled up in the fetal position in the corner of the gym, crying and asking for my mommy. But Bart owns his calls. He calls em like he sees em...and moves on. He's a GREAT ref.
Barring the polyester black pants they have to wear, reffing is a very cool hobby. Plus it pays for our Christmas, so keep blowing that whistle honey! 2006/03/07 Eagerly WatchWhen our oldest was first born, she had a lot of health problems. Almost daily, I went to Psalm 5 for my prayer.
Give ear to my words, O LORD, consider my groaning. Heed the sound of my cry for help, my King and my God, for to Thee do I pray. In the morning, O LORD, Thou wilt hear my voice; In the morning I will order my prayer to Thee and eagerly watch. (1-3)
I love the words "eagerly watch." To me, that is a great way to describe faith. An eagerness, anticipation, and a conviction that God is who He says He is. He listens, He's in control, He's working, and able to do more than we could ever imagine. Even in the darkest times, we can have an eagerness for God to work, just like this Psalmist did.
I want to be a person who notices even the smallest ways God is working. May I be eager to see His handiwork in every area of my life. May my heart be glad, even when I notice He's not working according to "my" plan. May I be sensitive to His blessings, and unaware of all of the distractions of this world and my flesh. And, may I be diligent to "order my prayer" in the morning. Not just in the times I'm in distress, but continually throughout my life. 2006/03/03 happy storiesWhen I was one, I used to sit on my dad's lap and touch his eyebrows. He would say "eyebrow...eyeBROW...browwww..." trying to get me to say it. I never said it, until one day I was standing at the screen door and a plane flew through the sky, leaving an arching smoke trail. I pointed at the sky and said BRRRROOOOWWWWW.
I still like hearing the stories of when I was young . It touches me that my parent's remember my growing up years with fondness, even the years that "eyebrow" was replaced with "(*&^(*&^&^#$^%$" and other rebellious utterances.
Earlier today, I looked into the angry eyes of my 10 year old and wondered how we were going to make it through the next few years. My mom and dad had dozens more of those moments with me than I'm having with my daughter. ( I know it's hard to believe) It's good to know that it's the good memories that remain even though I created more than a few bad memories during those years. I pray that my daughter and I will remember the good times, and heal from the less than good times like today. But right now, I could use some Advil, black olive pizza from Godfather's and a Seinfeld marathon. 2006/03/02 Hippo Birdy Two EwesToday is my husband's birthday...or as my college roommate Glo used to say...BERTday.....hey....my hubby's name is Bart....so we could morph that into Bartday. Happy Bartday, honey! Half way to 84!
I surprised him with one of his favorite things....eating dinner at home. It's a rare thing! I know, Becky Homecky I ain't. Schwan's is AWESOME.
The girls and I went shopping for Bart today. They were so excited to buy him presents. Sarah loves buying him ties. Bart is the pickiest dresser I've ever met, especially when it comes to ties. So, when Sarah heads for the tie tables, it's always an interesting exchange between her and me. "Well, yes I know pink is a pretty color, but I don't think Daddy will like a pink tie. I know, it's your favorite color, but maybe it's not his favorite color. Lavender? Oh, well yes that's a pretty color too, but maybe we should look at these banker blue ties over here......"
Jenna, Sarah, and I are the luckiest three girls in the whole world to get to share our lives with Bart. We're glad you were born, hon! 2006/03/01 pulling out my soapboxThe olympics got terrible ratings. American Idol, Dancing with the Stars, and whatever else stole the show during the two weeks the Olympics were on. As my faithful 6 readers know, I was a loyal watcher of the Olympics. As time went on, I must say it got harder to watch. Not because of my own insecurities (mentioned in an earlier blog) but because of the behavior of some of our athletes.
Speed skaters bickering and whining
Downhill skier drinking and partying
The arrogance and disrespectfulness of a certain "high maintenance" male figure skater
Showboating snowboarder who loses the race because of her antics
Someone said to me that it goes on everywhere, and not just in the U.S. Well, I don't care if it goes on in other countries. That's not my concern. Integrity IS NOT relative to what other people are doing. Such behaviors and attitudes are wrong, regardless of which side of the ocean you're on.
I've been wondering if their behavior is indicative of behaviors of people in that generation across the board (listen to me, I sound like an old lady saying "in that generation." Next thing you know, I'll be saying...."in my day....") Are we becoming more flippant, lazy, self absorbed, princessy as a nation in general? I'm telling you, there were several moments during those two weeks that I was embarrassed. Listening to some of our athletes justifying their behavior made me sad and embarrassed.
I'm still impressed and inspired by all that the Olympics stands for, but there sure were some less than Olympicesque moments during those 16 days.
That's all this loyal Olympics watcher has to say on this subject....for now anyway. |
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