Two of My Favorite Things

I took Shaun to Books-A-Million today to purchase "Diary of a Wimpy Kid". We saw the movie last week, and loved it! Shaun wanted to give the books a try. He usually hates to read, so anytime he shows an interest in books, I jump on it.

While we were shopping, I saw two of my favorite things! Or at least, two books, written by two of my favorite authors. These two books and their respective authors have absolutely nothing in common, so I was quite amused to see them on a shelf, side by side. Or rather, one on top of the other. I was so amused that I snapped a picture with my cell phone. I also received a strange look from the cashier. Whatever!

Here they are!


Now, if you know me, of course you know that I'm referring to Dr. James Dobson and Stephenie Meyer. I imagine they were together on this shelf because both books are "best sellers". I have not yet read Dr. Dobson's latest book, the one pictured here. I want to. Even though I don't have any girls that I'm "bringing up"...nor do I ever plan to. I just plain love James Dobson.

I've been gaining wisdom from him my entire life. I remember being forced to listen to his radio show while riding in the car as a child. Every night on the way home from ball practice, church, or whatever activity we happened to be doing. It was understood that if we were in the car at 7:30, we were listening to James Dobson and "Focus on the Family". Of course, since I was such a difficult child, I pretended to not want to listen...but I secretly liked it! While I listened, I gained priceless information about family, marriage, children, and much much more. And then, before I began middle school, my mom made me read Preparing for Adolescence. Very informational. Christ-centered teaching for young adults on sex, puberty, etc. This was mortifying to me. But that's another story for another day!

When Shaun was born, my sweet grandmother gave copies of The Strong-willed Child, Dare to Discipline, and Bringing Up Boys. Both of these books have educated me not only on how to raise my children, but on how to raise up Godly children. I have lent copies of all of these books to fellow moms whom I have deemed worthy!

A few years ago, I discovered that "Focus on the Family" aired daily at 11:30 a.m. on a local radio station. I try to fit it into our homeschooling "routine". When we have a routine, that is! I try to fit in breaktime for the boys at 11:30 while I get lunch together...and listen to all of Dr. Dobson's wisdom!

I even cried a few weeks ago, while listening to the broadcast of Dr. Dobson's final "Focus" episode.

Yes, I love James Dobson.

And, I also love Stephenie Meyer and her Twilight Saga. Because I have an addiction and I need help! Ha!

Smack!

Church was good tonight. So good. One of those services where the Spirit moved and the preacher didn't even get to preach. Where half of the church ended up in the alter. Where worship ran rampant. The kind of service where miracles happen.

I needed that kind of service. And when I left, I was so pumped. Refreshed. Ready to face tomorrow and tackle all of my problems. I skipped downstairs to pick up my children. Chris met me at the door. He asked me if I have his phone. I tell him no. He tells me that his iPhone has been stolen.

SMACK!

Just like that. My proverbial bubble was busted. A slap in the face. My flesh kicked back in and anger rose up. Seriously? Someone stole my husband's phone. In church. The phone with the cracked glass that's being held together by surgical tape because we really just don't have the money to buy a new one. It was stolen? IN CHURCH? It was taken from the band's "green room" (which is actually just an enclosed stair case landing in the backstage area of the kids' auditorium) while the band was playing during the worship service. IN CHURCH???

UGH. Frustrated doesn't even begin to cover it. I begin to have thoughts like this:

Well, thanks a lot, God. How nice. You know we can't afford to by a new phone this week.

Whoever took this phone deserves to go to jail. Or to get hit by a truck and hospitalized.

If we find out who did this, we will make 'em pay.

Everyone pitched in. The area was searched. Plans were made to view the security camera footage. But, Chris still didn't have a cell phone when we left. I was still fuming during dinner. Then, I had a flashback from last Wednesday's church service, where I heard this wonderful little quote:

"Circumstances are not authorized to seperate me from the presence of Jesus."- T. F. Tenney

Amen. Amen, amen, amen. This is so true. It has become my "life verse", if you will. I'm still mad about the phone. I'm praying we get it back. I would be sooooo happy if Chris simply misplaced it. This is highly unlikely, but it could happen. Yes, I'm angry.

But I'm even angrier that I let a "circumstance" rob me of the joy I felt after service tonight.

Sigh.

Scaling Down

I made a decision tonight. I recently discovered that I'm being "smothered" by unnecessary clutter in my life. This clutter is everywhere! In my house, my yard, my car, my bedroom. You name it and its filled to over-flowing. This is NOT a good thing. I. Seriously. Can't. Breathe. I walk into various rooms in my house and have little panic attacks. Because I need some order! I need things put away. Only we have so much STUFF, there's nowhere to fit it all. So, it ends up in the hallway floor. Or in the bathtub. Or in the laundry room.

I really, really, really want a place for everything...and for everything to be in it's place! Now. I know this will take time. But its going to get done! I have decided to begin slowly, with a simple project. This way, I'm hoping, I won't get discouraged and quit before I start. Which happens a lot with me.

I have decided to begin with....my Facebook page. Yes. I am currently "friends" with 373 people on Facebook. Do I know all of these people. Yes. Do I consider all of them "actual" friends? No. Do I really feel comfortable with all of these "acquaintances" seeing pictures of my children and reading my silly updates? Not so much. Awhile back, I was in Target. A person approached me and questioned me about Jordan's ear infection. She'd heard on Facebook that he was sick. The somewhat creepy part about this is that I really didn't know this person at all...she attends my church and "knows" me through my husband. She knows my husband because her children know him through his work in the Children's Ministry. It unnerved me. But then I got over it. But now its bothering me again.

So, I need to scale down my Facebook page. But...how do I decide who to "keep"? And without hurting anyone's feelings. Do I keep people that I know from high school, even though we were never "friends" then or now? Do I keep the lady who's child I teach on Sundays, even though we've never had an actual conversation? Do I keep the man from church who I always see in the hallway but have never said more than "Hello" to?

What a delimma! Guess I'll sleep on it, since its really late and I have to be up early tomorrow.

"Special People"

Last Friday, my family and I went to Wal-Mart. Big shock, I know! We only went in for a "few" things- mainly some more eye drops for me (my eyes were, itchy, watery, and bloodshot...thanks allergies!). Therefore, I wasn't in a good mood. I was tired. I was sneezing. And, thanks to my eyes, I looked stoned. I was ready to get out of there!

As usual, what should have been a 10 minute trip turned into a 45 minute Wal-Mart excursion that came to a head at the video game aisle. To make a long story short, there was much whining from both of my children when they learned that a new Wii game was not on that day's shopping list. After a few minutes (of patiently explaining why we were NOT buying a game that cost 50 dollars and then enduring the intesified round of high-pitched whining that went along with that explaniation) I had enough....and YELLED at my children in the middle of Wal-Mart. Yes, I did. Just like the redneck women in the Cleveland Wal-Mart that I usually make fun of. And yes, I received some "looks". But my kids stopped whining, so I considered this a victory!

As we made our way to the check-out lines, I began to feel just a little bit guilty. Not for yelling, but for yelling as loudly as I yelled, and in front of all those people. We were all tired, and really, no one deserves to be yelled at in public that way. I mentally chastising myself for not handling the situation in the best way when the cashier began ringing us up.

Chris offered to take the kids on out to bring the car around. I noticed the cashier's eyes following Shaun as he left the store with his dad. I should say here that, for the most part, random strangers do not even notice that Shaun has cerebral palsy. However, on this particular day, Shaun was extremely tired and had been through a tough physical therapy session a few days before. His leg muscles were sore, which resulted in a more noticeable limp. The cashier (a middle-aged man) turned his eyes toward me and we had this conversation:

Him: Do you mind if I ask you a question?
Me: Of course not!
Him: Has your son ever been in a wheelchair?
Me: No. He hasn't.
Him: I hope I didn't offend you.
Me: You didn't. We're very blessed. Things could have been so much worse for him.
Him: You're right. And you know what I've always thought?
Me: What's that?
Him: Special kids have special parents.
Me: Slight pause, while I tried not to cry. Well, thank you. You don't know how badly I needed to hear that today.
Him: Its true. Have a great weekend.
Me: Thanks. You too.

Isn't it funny how God uses people? I so needed some encouragement that day....and I got it! I'm so thankful that God sent some on down when I needed it most.

On when I got my toes done...

Let me start at the very beginning...back in December, when I received a gift certificate from a local nail salon as a gift from my aunt. I was THRILLED to get this gift...I love getting pedicures but rarely take the time for myself to have one. The gift certificate has been sitting patiently on my dining room shelf, just waiting to be used. Fast forward to a few days ago. I decided that, on this particular rainy day, I needed a break. Chris agreed. So, when he came home from work, I showered, dressed, slipped on my flip-flops, and headed out in the pouring rain to get my pedicure.

I arrived at the salon. Walked in. Signed my name on the sign-in sheet, and picked a nail-polish color. Black, if you're interested. I'm not really sure why I chose BLACK, of all colors. I just saw it and it appealed to me. Perhaps it was a premonition of what was to come....

Anyway, I made it back to the massage chair and began soaking my feet. My sweet nail tech walked up and we had this conversation:

Her: Insert appropriate Asian accent that this southern girl could NOT understand. "You want Deluxe Pedicure? Or Regular? Delux is ten dollar more."

Me: "Oh. Um, well. I'm not sure. How much is a regular one?" My gift certificate was for $26.50. And of course I had no cash for a tip. And, since I am not blind, I noticed the ten signs proclaiming that this specific establishment did not accept checks. I wanted to be sure to stay within a certain limit so that I would be able to leave the nail tech a nice tip with the change from my gift certificate. Makes sense, right? RIGHT??

Her: "Regular is eleven dollar. Deluxe is ten dollar more. So Deluxe is twenty-one dollar."

Me: "Oh great. I'll take the Deluxe!" Reasoning that, after paying twenty-one dollars for a Deluxe pedicure, I'd still have $5.50 for a tip. Sweet! Or so I thought.

So, I had a Deluxe pedicure. And it was fabulous. I was sad when it was over. Or so I thought!

When I went to the counter to pay, my nail tech rang me up and we had this conversation:

Her: "That be 25 dollar."
Me: "Oh. Um, I thought you said that it would be twenty one dollars?" Imagine a slight edge of panic in my voice.
Her: "No. No, 25 dollar for Deluxe pedicure."
Me: "Oh. Well, I'll be paying with this." I hand over the gift certificate. My mind starts reeling as I wonder how in the world I'm going to make this right. In the back of my mind, I think that I can just buy a bottle of nail polish with my debit card and leave a tip that way. And then she hits me with...
Her: While glaring at my gift certificate. "This is for 26 dollar. How you gonna leave tip?"
Me: After closing my mouth- it had dropped to the floor. "Well...I thought you said it was twenty-one dollars....and I don't have any cash on me....so can I just buy a bottle of nail polish with my check card and leave you a tip that way? I'm so sorry about this."
Her: Screaming. I mean, seriously SCREAMING in her native tongue to the other lady working in the salon. I'm assuming that this other lady was the owner of the salon. I'm also assuming that my nail tech was screaming for her boss lady to run to the front of the salon and take care of this problem customer. Which happened to be me... :( Boss lady makes it to the front and the two continue to converse in their native language. Right in front of me. As if I wasn't there. Throwing spiteful glances at me the whole time. While the other two paying customers in the salon look on in horrified amusement.

Then, I had the wonderful experience of having this conversation with the salon owner:

Her: Again, imagine strong Asian accent and limited English...that I still couldn't understand. "You only leaving 1 dollar for tip?"
Me: While blushing furiously. "No! I thought my pedicure was only going to be twenty-one dollars. I'm so sorry...I don't have any cash. I was wondering if I could buy a bottle of the nail polish I chose and pay with my debit card. I can leave a tip that way. I'm so sorry!"
Her: "NO!" Points to a small sign on the wall behind the counter that plainly states that there is a ten dollar minimum for credit card purchases. "Nail polish only 7 dollar!"
Me: As mild irritation is starting to set in. "Okay. I'm so, so sorry. There was a misunderstanding on the price of my pedicure. I don't know what else to do. What do you want me to do?"
Her: As she hands me back my gift certificate. "You just pay for Deluxe pedicure with your credit card and leave tip. And keep this certificate for next time. You want to do that?"
Me: As full on anger begins to creep in. "No. I don't want to do that. I'll just pay with this certificate. I'll try to bring her a tip in next time."

Then, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the salon, vowing never to go back. I was humiliated. And I felt deceived! After all, I had specifically asked the nail tech how much a flippin' Deluxe pedicure was. And she told me twenty-one dollars...more than once!

I stomped to my car and fumed my way through town while I ran some errands. Sometime during the way back home, I started to feel bad. I called my mom. Told her what happened. And she hits me with :

"Erin. You didn't leave her a tip? Those girls make next to nothing."

And of course, she's right. I know that I should stop in and leave some money for my nail tech. I mean, really- this whole mess boils down to being about a few dollars. But my pride is just not letting me right now. I think that the way they carried on was beyond rude. And I'm still mad. Not to mention embarrassed. So I'm sleeping on it. Praying about it. A few weeks ago, I'd just let the whole thing go. But, my SOD (School of Discipleship) teacher has been challenging us to really live like Christians. All of the time. In every situation. Obviously, I'm convicted about this, or it wouldn't still be bothering me. But. My stinkin' pride just will NOT let me go back there with even a few dollars. Maybe in a few days. Maybe. I hope I'll get over myself enough to do the right thing. No matter how much it stinks!

Not Me! Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

This past week, I did NOT:

...inadvertently cause the death of my friend's family cat. Not Me!

...accidentally catch our toaster oven on fire while making a midnight snack of nachos and cheese. My grandmother always told me how closely those toaster ovens needed to be watched, so I did NOT run to the restroom while my cheese and chips were toasting, and I definitely did NOT forget that I had anything in that toaster oven in the first place.

...form a freakish bond with a random stranger in a waiting room. The source behind this freakish bond was NOT The Twilight Saga. And I was NOT totally thrilled to meet a "Twilight Dad". Not Me!

...find myself explaining what a "Starship" store is to a woman old enough to be my grandmother. This conversation did NOT take place at church, during our School of Discipleship class. And, since I'm 29 years old I most certainly did NOT blush during our talk. I'm way too mature for that!

...tell my children that they were not allowed to drink Mtn Dew and then squirrel one away in the back of the fridge so that I could drink it after they went to sleep. Not Me! If they can't drink it, I don't drink it!

Laughter

So, as you know, I've been "down" all week. In a funk. Tired. Weepy. Today it became apparent that I can chalk some of my moodiness up to plain old PMS. Some, but not all. Its been a really hard week. My family's been on edge. The children have been willful, disobedient, and disrespectful. Chris and I have been, shall we say, less than nice to each other more than once. Little things have gone wrong all week.

I'm woman enough to admit that I was feeling sorry for myself.

The family and I were invited to some friends house for dinner. Our dear friends with the seven children! Now, I don't think that my friend - I'll just call her E- has ever read this blog of mine. But if she ever does, here is my disclaimer:

E...PLEASE DO NOT TAKE OFFENSE TO WHAT I'M ABOUT TO POST. I LOVE YOU AND YOUR FAMILY AND MY STATE OF MIND TODAY IS MOST DEFINITELY NOT THE WAY I NORMALLY FEEL ABOUT YOU, YOUR WONDERFUL HUSBAND, AND YOUR SWEET CHILDREN.

Okay. So, when I heard about this invite, my first reaction, honestly, was: "Oh no. All those kids. Combined with my two hyper boys. All that noise. All that chaos. Let's just stay home, so I can pout and sniffle and feel sorry for myself and squabble with my children and fuss with my Hubs."

But, after some coaxing from my husband, we went anyway. And I'm so glad we did. We ate. We listened to the kids scream. We caught our youngest children showing each other their underwear. The guys took the kids fishing. Our children witnessed a cat get mangled by the neighbor's dog. Said cat was taken to the vet and put to sleep. Jordan pooped in his underwear. Chris played some guitar. We planned a "grownups only trip to Six Flags". We sat and talked and laughed until after 10:00.

All in all, it was a strange visit! Some really random things happened. But we still laughed! I needed to laugh! I should have known there would be lots of laughter, since I always laugh my head off when I'm around E. Laughter is always good for my soul, and tonight it was just what I needed.

When we left to go back home, I was refreshed. I felt like myself again. And it felt really nice!

Broken

It all started out innocently enough. The family and I were at my grandparents' house, watching a video. The video had a sword fight on it. My grandpa commented that Shaun would be good at sword fighting, since he takes karate and has been working with weapons. Upon hearing these words, Jordan's little voice piped up with, "Shaun can't do that. He's got a broken arm". There was a beat of silence and then Shaun, very indignantly, replied, "My arm is not broken". Jordan hopped up, ran to his brother at the couch and said, "Yes it is. This one right here is broken".

Well, my heart was broken at this little exchange. To my knowledge, Jordan has never noticed any of his brother's "differences" before. He wasn't being ugly or rude. Just matter of fact. To hear him say that Shaun's left arm was broken stirred up something in my soul. I still don't know exactly what it is.... Sadness, for sure, but something else, too, that I can't quite put my finger on. Defeat? Anxiety? I began having "flashback feelings" from Shaun's newborn days in the NICU. Back then, we weren't sure what we would be dealing with, how this road would end. As if someone was literally squeezing the life out of my heart. Panic. Despair. Disappointment.

Not that I'm feeling that way all of the time right now. I'm able to function. Something just feels out of place. I know I'll have to get over this. Things certainly haven't changed just because Jordan now knows that Shaun is "different". Shaun is what he is, quirks and all. Just like we all are. He was the way he is on Saturday night and he was still the same on Sunday afternoon after his exchange of words with his little brother. Nothing's changed. Except the way I feel.

I feel attacked. Satan knows this is a weakness of mine. He's used it before to get me down.

Prayers, please!

On My Love Affair With Collard Greens

I'm so glad that I (finally) grew into my southern roots regarding my thoughts on collard greens. I love them. I mean, I really love them. I grew up hating them. Really hating them. I remember referring to them as poison on more than one occasion. I always hated New Years Day when I was a child because my mom would stink up the house by cooking her blasted collard greens.

I'm not sure what happened. Maybe I finally grew up. Maybe I never really even tried them when I was a kid, but was simply disgusted by their smell (which I still don't care for, by the way!). Anyway, back in January, my mom invited us over for Sunday lunch after church. She served collards. Among other things, of course. I wrinkled my nose when I came into the house and muttered to myself, "Great. Collards. I'm so hungry and she made collards. EW!"

Chris and I were fasting. Maybe our hunger had something to do with this! But anyway, I held my breath and tasted the small serving of collards my mother had placed on my plate. And...I fell in love with collard greens. To my surprise, they didn't taste like poison after all. They were delicious. I think I ate three giant helpings that day, and I took some leftovers home. I asked my mom how I could make them myself. She had a big laugh at my expense when I wondered where I had to go to pick them. I had no idea you could by them at Kroger! I've made them several times since then and my family loves them too! Even Jordan. They're so good. We can eat on one batch for several days, which eliminates me having to cook the next night. They're also good for you! And they're extremely low calorie!

I'm not sure why I felt compelled to write a post about collard greens. Maybe because I just had some for lunch (leftovers from Tuesday night's supper!). My nieces are visiting today, and one of them wouldn't touch her collards. Instead of insisting that she try them, I just laughed and gave her more chicken. She'll realize the truth one of these days. And in the meantime, it just means that there are more collards for me!

Minor Details

My sister and her kids came over for dinner tonight. After we had eaten, we all went outside. Kids were playing, my Sis and I were talking. The conversation turned to the Easter play the kids and I were a part of over the weekend. After commenting again on how GREAT it was (!) she said to me "Did you here what ______ thought of it? He didn't like it. Said that you guys didn't really spend enough time talking about Jesus' miracles and that he couldn't believe that there were two black disciples".

Seriously? What do you say to that? I didn't say anything-- I just laughed.

Not Me! Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

Last week, I did NOT accept a (free) guinea pig from a friend to give to my children. So there's no way that said guinea pig is lost in our house right now! That's right! I do NOT have a rodent loose in my house right now. Not Me!

I did NOT have some sort of weird allergy attack on Saturday, right before time to perform in our church's Easter play. I was NOT sneezing furiously during the drive to church and my eyes did NOT become so severely red, swollen, and watery that I could not wear any makeup. I definitely did NOT perform that way in front of 5,000 people on Saturday night and then two more times on Sunday. Not Me!

During our final Easter performance, Jordan decided he'd had enough and began crying to take Chris' cell phone out onto the stage. In a panic because it was almost time for us to go on, I did NOT pinch his little leg while whispering fiercely that I wouldn't let go until he put the cell phone down. This tactic did NOT work so perfectly that I'm thinking of replacing time-outs with pinching. That's cruel and unusual punishment and I would NEVER do that to one of my children. Not Me!

Our family bought a new vehicle last weekend. When everyone asks me how I like it, my first reaction is NOT to proclaim "I love it! The driver side window is functional!" Not Me!