Friday, May 31, 2013

When a Woman Goes to Bed...

When a women goes to bed, she first grabs her reading tablet before arranging her three pillows juuust right - one for legs, one for arms, one for head.

And the pillows remind her of earlier in the day when she saw the cat "bathing" itself on her head pillow, and it grosses her out.

So she searches for a fresh pillow case, hoping to find a super soft one because she once heard Heather Locklear - 20 plus years ago - say something about how high thread-count sheets help prevent face wrinkles.

But to no avail, she can only find a cheap tween-ish one that has a bunch of sayings on it with hearts and squiggly lines - "Rock Star!" "Glamorous!" "Call me!"

Feeling the exact opposite of rock star and glamorous AND not wanting anyone anywhere to call her for any reason, she hears her 16-year-old daughter calling her from the other talk.

All done talking for the day, she goes in there and talks anyway. "I bet Michelle Duggar would gladly talk to her teen daughter(s) at any time" is the prevailing thought that guilts her into chatting for longer than intended.

But soon other thoughts take over: Did I hook my phone up? Should I apply extra eye cream because of the low thread-count? Is my husband mad at me?

So with great mom precision and care, she smoothly brings the Kaila/Kenzie/Kelsey/Kylie drama discussion to an end and slips out of the room.

Surprised she didn't offend her daughter with her fabulous advice, she wonders to herself, "Maybe I am a rock star after all."

She then goes pee for the 29th time that day, but not without stubbing her toe before collapsing into bed - where she leans over and whispers to her husband, "Honey, are you mad at me?"

And she gets nothing. So she whispers more forcefully, "Honey, are you mad?" Still nothing.

Amazed at her husband's ability to completely shut down like that, she finds comfort in her three pillows and in the thought, "Well at least God isn't mad at me."

So she double-checks on God not being mad at her by going to her Bible App and finding this verse: "The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me besides quiet waters, he refreshes my soul." (Psalm 23:1-2)

Feeling stilled, feeling refreshed, feeling cared for - and kind of wishing she was in Hawaii - she FINALLY rolls over and falls asleep (right after spending a few minutes worrying about money).

But when a man goes to bed, he lies down and goes to sleep.

Sunday, May 26, 2013

Garage Sale Finds

Community garage sales are all the go these days. One neighborhood = two dozen garage sales = eight panini sandwich makers, several "shake weights," and countless VHS Barney videos...

...but only one very-Molly antique hutch. Picked it up for 45 bucks. See:

And I'm thinking of leaving it as is - at least for now. One day I'll get a wild hair and paint it an aqua/gray color and distress it. Or butter yellow. I'll keep you posted.

I also came away with a few 50-cent shirts (to be clear, not the rap star 50 Cent, but rather Gap and Old Navy). Oh, and two ladderback, "rush-seated" chairs. (Great. More things to add to my old lady house.)

I almost came away with the first thing that caught my eye - a pair of crutches. You know, just in case. But God quickly put a thought into my head: "Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."  Matthew 6:34

And that was that. Not a day to plan for broken bones after all. I had a hutch and two chairs to play with:

Monday, May 20, 2013

Viva Las Vegas

Just found out we're squeezing in an extra vacation this summer. Goin' to Vegas, baby. It's a little tag-a-long business trip with the hubs.

And with the kids.

Which is fine. I think. Fine with Jeff and I, anyway. We don't do (nor know how to do) very Vegas-y things. But I've got a couple fancy friends who do. And their FB pics are always of them standing on rooftops of tall buildings, one hand on hip, chin-tilted down - with the flashy lights of the strip in the background - wearing something shimmery that you know didn't come from Kohls. (Adding to the bucket list: "Attend a rooftop party.")

So since this will be a family excursion, all will be fine and kid-friendly. Or will it? I'm not so sure, because after listening to this guy yesterday explain what it's like to actually live in Vegas - with his family - I'm having second thoughts now.

At first he said it's just like any normal town or city. There are regular people all over the place. Even people who love Jesus. There are parks and nice schools. Even churches.

But there are also billboards. You know the kind.

And on just an ordinary day out with the fam, their minivan stopped at a red light. And there it was. A billboard for their seven-year-old son to stare at while waiting for the light to turn green. A billboard with six half-naked girls posed "just so" on the larger-than-life photo.

So the boy turns to his ten-year-old sister and very innocently says, "Which naked girl is your favorite?" Like he's asking which Star Wars character does she want to be. Or which M&M color is she going to eat first.

And in perfect mom-timing, the guy's wife turns around and says, "You're NOT supposed to have a favorite naked girl!"

And although I don't know what all else was said, I do know three things:

1. That's some funny stuff.
2. That's kind of sad, though, too. (Boo on Vegas!)
3. Good! My family isn't the only family.

Oh, I already knew my family wasn't the only family whose kids say the darndest things. And that I'm not the only mom whose first response is a "not supposed to" instead of an empathy-filled, "There there, now. I understand your wanting to have favorites in life, but..." and yackity smackity.

But good for this boy's mom for piping in. Whether her approach was lacking in grace or was super right-on (it was right-on) - we moms need grace all the more when our parenting takes a detour OR seems at odds with the one whose child isn't the same age as our child...or has same fears, temperaments, tendencies, and struggles.

Then again the Bible does say to teach our kids God's ways for living. And they're good ways for living, too, for his love for us motivated each one. And Deuteronomy 11:19 says to teach our children his ways when going to bed and when getting up, when hanging out at home and when out on the road (checking out billboards, apparently).

With that being said, I sure hope I'm never one to add or take away from the Bible. But if I were to do such things, I'd add an 11th commandment: "Thou shalt not have favorite naked ladies."

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

It's a Giveaway! Celebrating My ONE YEAR Blogiversary!

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Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Wife Insurance

Lately I've been doing a little "where's all our money going?" inventory. That means I have to dredge-up account passwords or call customer service representatives. Oh the things I'd rather do! Like maybe try on bathing suits at Target - on a Monday, the day after I do things like dunk each bite of pizza in ranch.

And one of the calls I made was to our life insurance company. What a weird call that was. At first I asked about my policy, and things were going good. I totally held it together. (Read The Vacuum Lady.)

But then I asked about my husband's policy. And that's when Jake the representative questioned me, "Ma'am, if I may ask, why are you calling about your husband's life insurance policy today?"

What? Who asks about that sort of thing? Okay fine, life insurance reps do. But why? Does he think I'm considering...(whisper)...muurrrder? And I'm weighing the pros and cons? Should I...Shouldn't I?

So I stammered out, "I, uh...seeing about money and uh...just checking in with you guys. You know, wondering if it's a tax write-off...or not." (It's not.)

Whew, that was close. Then I thought, "Oh please, Jeff. Don't die anytime soon. Or anytime ever. They'll trace back to this phone call and find motive. And I'd have to get out of! Pack my bags!"

Which the very thought is dumb. Hellooo, I love the guy. Even more so after reading Pioneer Woman's cookbook over the weekend. I, too, have my very own Marlboro man, you see - minus the hat and chaps. And he is wanted not dead, but alive.

Sooo, Jake. The representative. I have a few questions for you. Where were you at 4:45 a.m. when I reminded my husband to drive safely - in the rain - on his morning commute? Hiding in the closet, trying on a pair of his khakis? I don't think so.

And where were you when I actively wished my husband to not die by handing him heart-healthy fish oil softgels - "swallow these!" Or when he plays basketball - "don't break your nose!" Or when he's rearranging the garage - "careful about your back!"

Oh gosh, I hope I'm not mothering my husband. But as long as I don't chase after him with a Metamucil concoction to cure what ails him, I think I stay within normal, "concerned wife" limits.

I just worry sometimes. It runs in the family. Not only about Jeff, but my kids and money and...other stuff. Will my 200,000-plus-miles Chevy make it another year? Will non-organic apples really harm my family? Will The Bachelorette finally find true love? (This week's trains-of-thought, anyway.)

But I heard it said that it's easier to sing your worries away than to reason them away - which works double-duty when sung in the direction of heaven. La la la, mi mi mi, figaro figaro!

And Philippians 4:4 says to rejoice in the Lord two times in a row: "Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice!" That's in the Lord, mind you. Not in circumstances. And definitely not in life - or wife - insurance.