Well, except for all the Hindi singing that's occurring these days (I kid you not. The kids have the entire album on their MP3s. They sing in Hindi and have memorized dances. I've decided odd is subjective.)
Monday, July 13, 2009
It's Not All Miley Around Here
To improve my credibility around here, I thought I'd post another short video of Cutie Pie singing. It's much better than Miley. It's more representative of most singing around here. I'm not just saying that. Really. The kids sing all manner of songs like this one. All the time. It's mostly what they sing.
Well, except for all the Hindi singing that's occurring these days (I kid you not. The kids have the entire album on their MP3s. They sing in Hindi and have memorized dances. I've decided odd is subjective.)
Well, except for all the Hindi singing that's occurring these days (I kid you not. The kids have the entire album on their MP3s. They sing in Hindi and have memorized dances. I've decided odd is subjective.)
Sunday, July 12, 2009
The Guest
I share this with you via Randy Alcorn (Eternal Perspective Minitries). I read it for the first time over five years ago and God really spoke to me through it.
A few months before I was born, my dad met a stranger who was new to our small Tennessee town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our family. The stranger was quickly accepted and was around to welcome me into the world a few months later.
As I grew up, I never questioned his place in our family. Mom taught me to love the Word of God. Dad taught me to obey it. But the stranger was our storyteller. He could weave the most fascinating tales. Adventures, mysteries and comedies were daily conversations. He could hold our whole family spellbound for hours each evening.
He was like a friend to the whole family. He took Dad, Bill and me to our first major league baseball game. He was always encouraging us to see the movies, and he even made arrangements to introduce us to several movie stars. The stranger was an incessant talker. Dad didn't seem to mind but sometimes Mom would quietly get up—while the rest of us were enthralled with one of his stories of faraway places—and go to her room and read her Bible and pray. I wonder now if she ever prayed that the stranger would leave. My Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions. But this stranger never felt an obligation to honor them.
Profanity was not allowed in our house—not from us, our friends, or adults. Our longtime visitor, however, used occasional four-letter words that burned my ears and made Dad squirm. To my knowledge, the stranger was never confronted. Dad didn't permit alcohol in his home. But the stranger enlightened us to other ways of life. He often offered us beer and other alcoholic beverages. He made cigarettes look tasty, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished.
He talked freely about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing. I know now that my early concepts of the man/woman relationship were influenced by the stranger.
I believe it was only by the grace of God the stranger did not influence us even more. Time after time he opposed my parents' values. Yet he was seldom rebuked and never asked to leave. More than thirty years have passed since the stranger moved in with the young family on Morningside Drive.
But if I were to walk into my parents' home today, I would still see him sitting over in a corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures. His name? We always called him TV.
A few months before I was born, my dad met a stranger who was new to our small Tennessee town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our family. The stranger was quickly accepted and was around to welcome me into the world a few months later.
As I grew up, I never questioned his place in our family. Mom taught me to love the Word of God. Dad taught me to obey it. But the stranger was our storyteller. He could weave the most fascinating tales. Adventures, mysteries and comedies were daily conversations. He could hold our whole family spellbound for hours each evening.
He was like a friend to the whole family. He took Dad, Bill and me to our first major league baseball game. He was always encouraging us to see the movies, and he even made arrangements to introduce us to several movie stars. The stranger was an incessant talker. Dad didn't seem to mind but sometimes Mom would quietly get up—while the rest of us were enthralled with one of his stories of faraway places—and go to her room and read her Bible and pray. I wonder now if she ever prayed that the stranger would leave. My Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions. But this stranger never felt an obligation to honor them.
Profanity was not allowed in our house—not from us, our friends, or adults. Our longtime visitor, however, used occasional four-letter words that burned my ears and made Dad squirm. To my knowledge, the stranger was never confronted. Dad didn't permit alcohol in his home. But the stranger enlightened us to other ways of life. He often offered us beer and other alcoholic beverages. He made cigarettes look tasty, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished.
He talked freely about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing. I know now that my early concepts of the man/woman relationship were influenced by the stranger.
I believe it was only by the grace of God the stranger did not influence us even more. Time after time he opposed my parents' values. Yet he was seldom rebuked and never asked to leave. More than thirty years have passed since the stranger moved in with the young family on Morningside Drive.
But if I were to walk into my parents' home today, I would still see him sitting over in a corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures. His name? We always called him TV.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Wee Babe's Voice
My sweet, darling baby boy has been a little too quiet the last year or so. It started concerning Dr. Mole when he was only six months old. It didn't start concerning me until two months later. Finally, after seeing a big wig doctor in the big (wig) city, we scheduled hearing tests and possibly tubes. The tubes won due to middle ear fluid. He had those put in on March 31st, five days after he turned one. We hoped that would take care of it. Because the big concern was that he was not babbling. No baby gibber jabber. No consonants. Just one sound: the short a sound (as in bat, minus the b and the t of course).
Two months later, he still wasn't making additional sounds. So, we did a sound field test. He did really well, testing at 15db (that's better than 39 year old women, not that I would know or anything). But the big wig doctor called me a week ago saying she still wants to go ahead with an ABR test for Wee Babe because he's not speaking or trying to speak. I had the mama uneasiness. You know the, "Is this necessary for my baby? I recognize he has a speech delay, but my gut is telling me no on this test." See, he has to be put under for this test. He's already been put under more than I'd like for his age. So... I opted for contacting two speech pathologist friends, Maggie and Brooke. Both of them thought an eval was in good order instead of going straight to the ABR. *Cue scene where the mama exhales and looks really relieved music*
So, yesterday, we went to the big city to spend some time with Mrs. Brooke. After sp
ending some time with Wee Babe, she gave me some great tips on how to help his speech delay. And she reassured me that he is hearing fine. She encouraged me that his receptive language and his overall behavior are age appropriate. She believes the speech delay is due to the middle ear fluid he had for quite awhile, him getting being used to not speaking due to the temporary hearing loss involved with the middle ear fluid, him being a boy, and him being a sixth kid (and all that entails). She believes he'll catch up. That this delay is temporary.
ending some time with Wee Babe, she gave me some great tips on how to help his speech delay. And she reassured me that he is hearing fine. She encouraged me that his receptive language and his overall behavior are age appropriate. She believes the speech delay is due to the middle ear fluid he had for quite awhile, him getting being used to not speaking due to the temporary hearing loss involved with the middle ear fluid, him being a boy, and him being a sixth kid (and all that entails). She believes he'll catch up. That this delay is temporary. I was very relieved. I've wanted to cry every time I see a nine month old or one year old saying ga-ga, ba-ba, ma-ma, or goo-goo, or pretty much anything. He may be stinkin' cute, but saying only the short a sound at over fifteen months is not. I feel empowered to help him now. I needed some reminders on how to help him better. I have forgotten some things to do when talking t0 babies, it seems. I'm grateful for friends who care about my baby and want to help (Dr. Mole, Maggie and Brooke). I'm grateful that it looks like he'll be chatting it up soon.
I can't wait to hear his voice.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Anxiety and Peace
Sometimes I am stunned that I am stunned by God. I shouldn't be surprised by Him, but I am. Often. This past week, I was amazed at how He can teach me something new with something I consider familiar.
I love reading the Bible, God's Word. It is sharper than a two edged sword and it cuts to the heart. It also corrects, teaches, rebukes, and it trains. This time He taught me and then gave me some training about a topic near (but not dear) to my heart.
Anxiety.
Turns out God has a plan for anxiety. Funny thing is that I thought I already knew that. When I am worried about someone, I should pray. When I'm nervous about how something is going to turn out, I should pray.
What I didn't think through is that when I'm tense... stressed...emotional... hormonal...nervous...moody...frustrated...all of these feelings being involved with anxiety, I should pray in a particular way and that He has a gift for me if I do.
I read these verses:
Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4: 6-7
I've read these verses before. I've even quoted them. I just didn't remember that they went together. That they belonged together. That God put them together on purpose.
Do you see a cause and effect here?
IF we are anxious, we should gratefully talk to God, beseech Him and share our requests.
THEN the peace of Christ, which will blow our minds (my words), will protect us ( "guard us", emotionally and spiritually- "hearts" and "minds").
I am not a big worry wart (Ok, ok. Except when my children are around bodies of water and except when Wee Babe makes any kind of choking noise.). BUT I do struggle with the daily stresses of life. For example: my kids being too loud or annoying in public; not running late to something; being sure my children are polite to guests; having the house clean for company; my daughter not wearing underwear under her skirt and me not knowing about it until waaaaay after we get home from a function. These things can make my internal pressure shoot sky high. I can let my emotions run away with me, quickly. It's a bad trait. I've come a long way from where I was as a young woman, but I still have plenty far to go.
God used these verses to teach me that His plan for me to have peace doesn't just apply to the really big things, but that it applies to the little things that that affect my emotional make up. The little things that add up to my life.
When the tea I just bought spills in the diaper bag, pray. Peace will be my reward.
When the child speaks rudely to a grown up, pray. Peace will be my reward.
When the baby is poopy just as we are walking out the door, pray. Peace will be my reward.
I was stunned to see that God had a plan for my daily anxiety. I'm so grateful I read those verses last week. Peace guarding my mind and heart sounds like a super idea to me.
I love reading the Bible, God's Word. It is sharper than a two edged sword and it cuts to the heart. It also corrects, teaches, rebukes, and it trains. This time He taught me and then gave me some training about a topic near (but not dear) to my heart.
Anxiety.
Turns out God has a plan for anxiety. Funny thing is that I thought I already knew that. When I am worried about someone, I should pray. When I'm nervous about how something is going to turn out, I should pray.
What I didn't think through is that when I'm tense... stressed...emotional... hormonal...nervous...moody...frustrated...all of these feelings being involved with anxiety, I should pray in a particular way and that He has a gift for me if I do.
I read these verses:
Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4: 6-7
I've read these verses before. I've even quoted them. I just didn't remember that they went together. That they belonged together. That God put them together on purpose.
Do you see a cause and effect here?
IF we are anxious, we should gratefully talk to God, beseech Him and share our requests.
THEN the peace of Christ, which will blow our minds (my words), will protect us ( "guard us", emotionally and spiritually- "hearts" and "minds").
I am not a big worry wart (Ok, ok. Except when my children are around bodies of water and except when Wee Babe makes any kind of choking noise.). BUT I do struggle with the daily stresses of life. For example: my kids being too loud or annoying in public; not running late to something; being sure my children are polite to guests; having the house clean for company; my daughter not wearing underwear under her skirt and me not knowing about it until waaaaay after we get home from a function. These things can make my internal pressure shoot sky high. I can let my emotions run away with me, quickly. It's a bad trait. I've come a long way from where I was as a young woman, but I still have plenty far to go.
God used these verses to teach me that His plan for me to have peace doesn't just apply to the really big things, but that it applies to the little things that that affect my emotional make up. The little things that add up to my life.
When the tea I just bought spills in the diaper bag, pray. Peace will be my reward.
When the child speaks rudely to a grown up, pray. Peace will be my reward.
When the baby is poopy just as we are walking out the door, pray. Peace will be my reward.
I was stunned to see that God had a plan for my daily anxiety. I'm so grateful I read those verses last week. Peace guarding my mind and heart sounds like a super idea to me.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Our Demise
The Camp has a sweet side. A blessing it bestows on counselors as a little thank you. A little, "See, we care about our staff!" A little, "We encourage you to rest and unwind".
It provides a freezer full of Blue Bell in the counselor lounge.
That means free Blue Bell.
It provides a freezer full of Blue Bell in the counselor lounge.
That means free Blue Bell.
Did you hear me? Free Blue Bell.
You know what Blue Bell is, right? Well, if you're not Texan and you've never heard of Blue Bell, I apologize on your mother's behalf for both counts.
Blue Bell is an ice cream company (or "a little creamery") based out of Brenham, Texas. They make some fabulous ice cream. I was smitten by it as soon as I stepped over the state line twenty years ago.
A freezer full of free Blue Bell. Restocked every Thursday. I haven't even mentioned the Snickers ice cream bars.
Do you know what that does to a woman whose weakness is ice cream? Do you know what that does to children who know about that freezer? Do you know what that does to a toddler who now knows what is on the other side of the counselor lounge doors?
You know what Blue Bell is, right? Well, if you're not Texan and you've never heard of Blue Bell, I apologize on your mother's behalf for both counts.
Blue Bell is an ice cream company (or "a little creamery") based out of Brenham, Texas. They make some fabulous ice cream. I was smitten by it as soon as I stepped over the state line twenty years ago.
A freezer full of free Blue Bell. Restocked every Thursday. I haven't even mentioned the Snickers ice cream bars.
Do you know what that does to a woman whose weakness is ice cream? Do you know what that does to children who know about that freezer? Do you know what that does to a toddler who now knows what is on the other side of the counselor lounge doors?
We're not winning any weight loss challenges, that's for sure. It's a sweet demise though.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
You'll Thank Me Later
I called an old friend last Friday night to get the recipe for this dessert because I had a hankerin' for it. Actually, I think I dreamed about it. Memories of parties where I considered hiding out in my closet scarfing down this dessert and sharing it with no one floated across my mind and interrupted my sleep. Thankfully, she came through (Yea, Kathi!). I made a batch of the fluffy goodness for 4th of July.
Funny thing is that the bowl was never opened. Seems everyone was full from the cake balls and ice cream. Settle down! I did actually bring the bowl of delish to the party. I didn't hide it. I even mentioned it. 'Course it was after cake balls and ice cream had already been served and the bowl was still in the cooler. Think that had anything to do with it? I won't lie and say that I'm sad that I had an entire container the next day. Untouched until my spoon scooped out enough for a healthy size lunch for myself! Yahoo! I sat on the computer basking in the yumminess while my children were none the wiser across the house. I count that a victory.
Because I love you all, I'm sharing this easier than pie recipe. Do not be deceived by the ingredients. It may sound blah, but it's not. Many a get together I've brought this dessert to has been surprised. When first greeted, this sweet looks like it lacks personality, but after a bite, people usually fight each other for seconds. Please don't blame me if there is a wave of selfishness hitting your house as you serve this. Blame the bowl.
I sprinkled a few red, white and blue sprinkles on the top for Independence Day, not normal for this dessert, but it made for a good photo up on July 4th.
Pour 3 cups of milk in a bowl.
Add two packages of vanilla pudding (I think the original recipe said not instant, but I've used it before).
Blend until it thickens well.
Add 8 ounces of sour cream.
Mix well.
Add 12 ounces of Cool-Whip.
Blend in.
Alternate layers of the fluff, sliced bananas and Vanilla Wafers.
Top with crushed Vanilla Wafers.
Chill.
(Do NOT confuse this with typical banana pudding. That woud be an insult to this dessert.)
Serve as a dessert.
Or lunch.
Whatever.
Funny thing is that the bowl was never opened. Seems everyone was full from the cake balls and ice cream. Settle down! I did actually bring the bowl of delish to the party. I didn't hide it. I even mentioned it. 'Course it was after cake balls and ice cream had already been served and the bowl was still in the cooler. Think that had anything to do with it? I won't lie and say that I'm sad that I had an entire container the next day. Untouched until my spoon scooped out enough for a healthy size lunch for myself! Yahoo! I sat on the computer basking in the yumminess while my children were none the wiser across the house. I count that a victory.
Because I love you all, I'm sharing this easier than pie recipe. Do not be deceived by the ingredients. It may sound blah, but it's not. Many a get together I've brought this dessert to has been surprised. When first greeted, this sweet looks like it lacks personality, but after a bite, people usually fight each other for seconds. Please don't blame me if there is a wave of selfishness hitting your house as you serve this. Blame the bowl.
I sprinkled a few red, white and blue sprinkles on the top for Independence Day, not normal for this dessert, but it made for a good photo up on July 4th.
Pour 3 cups of milk in a bowl.
Add two packages of vanilla pudding (I think the original recipe said not instant, but I've used it before).
Blend until it thickens well.
Add 8 ounces of sour cream.
Mix well.
Add 12 ounces of Cool-Whip.
Blend in.
Alternate layers of the fluff, sliced bananas and Vanilla Wafers.
Top with crushed Vanilla Wafers.
Chill.
(Do NOT confuse this with typical banana pudding. That woud be an insult to this dessert.)
Serve as a dessert.
Or lunch.
Whatever.
Monday, July 06, 2009
Red, White and Blue
I just love having red, white and blue for my family to wear on the Independence Day. They all love it too.
Are you doubting me?
Ok, maybe they don't all love it. They tolerate it though. Someday they'll thank me.
The kids and I went to a living history farm in the morning, then we met My Sweetie at a car show, then we had friends over for swimming, dinner and fireworks. Don't you see the theme in those activities?? Ok, all I could pull out of that combination was red, white and blue. There was lots of red, white and blue. It was a full and fun day.
Anyway, here are some of my favorite red, white and blue photos from this year. I hope your 4th was wonderful!
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