Sunday, April 18, 2010

Cents and Sensibilities

Prom season has come upon our house, which means lots of shopping, glitter hair spray and lipstick.

Prom was Saturday and as of Friday Airenne had the dress, but no shoes to go with and no time to go shopping. She had her usual school schedule with a soccer game and track meet crammed in between. So I did what any mother would do who had a camera on her cell phone. I went virtual shopping.

The plus side of having a daughter that is tall is that we can share our wardrobe. Ok, well, usually she wears my clothes and I wear her shoes, for obvious reasons...it just works out better that way. But for shopping purposes, it's great. I was able to go into a couple of stores, gather up a few pairs of shoes that were .. ahem.. *acceptable* and try them on to make sure they had her size. I then took a picture of each of them and sent it to her via picture mail. She sent me the picture back of the ones she liked best. And viola! shoe shopping done. I figured we'd go shopping "for real" early Saturday morning, before her hair appointment to actually try them on and pick them up.

But as I was leaving the pavilion, I started doubting my choices for her. She and I don't always have similar taste.. but on these shoes, we did agree. The dress was a little black number with cut outs in the back. It had tuxedo tucks and light sequins along the neckline. She fit it perfectly. Anyway, the shoes we picked out were very sexy. Almost too sexy, but perfect for this dress. I wasn't sure if they were appropriate for an almost 17 year old. But I knew they would look great on an almost 35 year old.

And that got me to thinking..."If I buy these shes for her, I can wear them later with a cute pair of jeans or something.. Ah, who am I kidding, I'd probably never really wear those. I'd be too tall in them... where would I wear them to... they'll end up giving me blisters..." yada yada. I began to talk myself out of them before I even purchased them. I told myself that I was too old to worry about looking *hot*. I'll just stick with my boring, flat, brown, sensible shoes. You know, the ones every mom has. Easy to slip on, comfortable. ugly.

I couldn't believe it. I was actually... CONSCIOUSLY having a moment where I was giving in. Giving up. Literally, I allowed myself to pass from a stylistically verging, thirty-something year old woman... into a frump. I expected it to be a slow fade, but this day.. it went full throttle into the dumps. Christine was put in the back seat.

Not too long ago, at a Christmas sale, I spied a pair of ruby red, patent leather Mary-Jane stilettos... And I bought them! I was so proud of myself. I felt like I was on my way back from a land far far away, where I looked and smelled like everyone else and said all the *right things*. These shoes would be my ticket outta that place.. back to where I "used to live". Where a Little Bit of Sexy neighbored with Ms. Responsible. I wanted to go home. Get out of my minivan life and meet up with myself for a long drive on the coast, top down, hair whipping in the wind.

Sigh.

But I have yet to wear these exquisite shoes anywhere but my bedroom. Wait...that didn't come out right. I mean, I have not worn them yet in public. I knew they would look fabulous with the right outfit. But every time I think about wearing them, I talk myself out of it. I mean really, these shoes are fierce. The ooze "Christine". But I feel funny about walking out of the house with them on. Who am I to be wearing these? I mean, I'm a mom. And I haven't worn heels in so long, I probably would trip over myself in them.

Yesterday bright and early, I took *A* to check out a couple of more places before we settled on the purchase of the black sandals. Then from the bottom shelf, a pair of sweet baby pink high heeled beauties called my name. LOUDLY. I seriously gasped with joy when I saw these shoes. I put them on and strutted around the store with them almost the entire time that *A* was checking out her options. They fit like Cinderella's glass slippers, I felt so pretty in them. I was this close >.< to buying them. Even *A* said that if they make me feel that pretty, then I should buy them.

Then I looked at the price tag and felt defeated. dangit. They were more than I was willing to spend, especially considering that we were supposed to be shopping for *A*'s shoes, not mine. So I put them back. And slipped my old comfy brown shoes back on. We did end up buying her the first pair of sexy shoes we'd agreed on, and maybe, just maybe.. you'll see me around town with them on.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Storytellers..

Mmmmm. I'm about to enjoy one of life's simple blessings. I just poured a glass of Mango/White Tea iced tea (with lots of ice chunks, of course) and popped a bag of butter popcorn and topped it with M & M's. nummy. All the kids are sleeping and have a bit of time in my own head. Ahhh.. life is good.

Tonight was smoother than most nights. I am usually the one to get dinner made and shoveled down the kid's mouths and bathtime/bedtime routines done. It's while I'm making dinner that everything usually gets crazy. The boys bicker, the phone rings, the baby wakes up.. the panic of "oh no , what am I gonna make for dinner?" sets in.. but not tonight. Tonight was easy.
The baby was set in his high chair, contentedly self feeding and the boys were playing Batman & Robin in the bedroom. Somehow watching Alvin and the Chipmunks for the fourth time inspired them to show brotherly love today. Fine by me.. the less quarreling, the better. I was able to get lost in my own quiet thoughts while I was cooking dinner. And when I looked over to that precious, chubby, quiet baby of mine sitting in his big boy chair.. this is what I saw:

He was feeding his dinner to the dog. sigh.

And then, feeding himself.


Earlier today I was going thru some professional photographer's blogs and websites and was so smitten by the images I saw. I do that from time to time, just peruse thru websites to gain ideas and fresh perspective, not just in portriature, but in life. They were so artsy and beautiful. Some were raw.. but a posed raw. Studio raw. I guess then, not very *raw* at all. lol. But still, beautiful. Inspirational.

So inspirational, as a matter of fact, that I got myself a pretty nice camera a while back, hoping to get my own collection of images. And although I admittedly haven't figured out how to use it to it's best capabilities, I bought it with the intentions of taking some of those beautiful *raw* pictures too. But insted of posing and enhancing a perfect shot, I've been pointing and shooting. Getting whatever the moment allows me to. Not much with an artsy flair either, much to my shagrin. I haven't even taken my own kids out for a real session with it either. Time escapes me.

So tonight, when I uploaded these, I was a little disappointed. I was hoping for that perfect "Norman Rockwell Shot". They certianly were lacking in the creativity department, that's for sure. Almost no artsy flair whatsoever... And then I thought to myself.. "Who really cares anyway? I'm the only one that will see them and know that I am not reaching my potential.." And that thought, has been hanging in the front of my brain for a couple of hours now. And it's really bugging me. But why?

Because I wanna have a pretty blog >>balls a fist and stomps feet on the ground<<. I wanna take awesome pictures >>pouts out lower lip<<. I wanna, I wanna, I wanna. I wanna some cheese with my whine.
Seriously? Can I just get over myself already? sheesh.

So what is it that is stopping me from doing it then? Is it the talent? Is it the time? Is it the true interest? I dunno. Maybe all three. Or maybe, it' just not my style. What I see on the computer screen is what I WANT to be. But not what I am. The two worlds are not meshing.

I know how to stage. I can get a babysitter. I can research it all. I've been educated and trained in the field. For heavens sake I can even develop film the old fashioned way by hand. So then, why do I look at something and identify with it in one aspect, but am not able to wholly incorporate it into who I am? For some reason, when the camera is in my OWN hands, I take a different kind of picture (albeit a little flat in dimension). I tend to take pictures that tell a story. Or maybe speak a word. I should be happy with that, right? Maybe that's just *me*?
At least I can take comfort in Phillipians 1:16: in that "being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in ME will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ.."
No matter what I hold myself back from, no matter what stands in my Earthly way.. the work that He has started in me WILL be completed someday. Despite my best efforts to thwart it. I don't have to worry that He has gotten bored with me, or that He changed His mind about His plan for me... or that He wasn't talented enough to perfect it within me. He will continue to do it, until *that* day. How wonderful to know that I can relax in His perfect plan for me.
This conversation with myself reminded me of when I was in 5th grade. I was on the playground with a few friends and we were supposed to share with the class what we wanted to be when we grew up. I remember thinking to myself.. "Photojournalist".. but I was embarrassed to share that because I really had no idea what it was or how to be one. lol. It just sounded like a big fancy word to me. Fast forward 9-10 years and I'm taking a photography class. Three years later, I'm in Journalism and Editing. Finally, I'm graduating with a degree in the stuff, and still, I am not confident enough to claim it. To really claim it. So until I do, I suppose I'll be a closet photojournalist. But I'll live my dreams out here on my blog. And maybe even post some of my favorite pictures here. But don't be surporsed of you see the same faces over and over though. My kids are my favorite subject these days.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Nit-Picky

I've been sick for the past couple of days, so I've been trying to catch up on some rest. But invariably what ends up happening is I shock the heck out of my system with all of the extra hours of sleep, then I get off kilter and outta whack. I went to bed at 3am (ONLY because I felt guilty that *B* had gone to bed 4 hours prior, not because I was tired). And now.. it's 6:38am and I can't keep my eyes closed. Not to mention my dry, hacky cough is quite annoying.

So I come out to my computer as usual, and log onto this blog. And what I notice has got me all in a fit. The formatting is off and I can't quite get it right. It's not uniform and it's driving me bonkers, so unsuccessfully, I try and try to fix it. And then it messes up my ticker at the bottom right >>>. ggrrr.. It's not that big of a deal, but it's annoying me that I don't know how to fix it. Perfectionist? no. Control freak? yes.

And here I had an inspiration to actually try to get back into writing. I've been slacking off in that department for a long time. And although I wasn't sure how I was going to approach my blog, this blog in particular, I just knew that I needed to get on it more. I have another blog, specifically for Charlotte and my journey after loss, but I want to keep that separate, only for that purpose. Then I remembered a suggestion that a friend of mine had a few years back when I was writing about Charlotte. He suggested to me to look into maybe publishing a devotional. Ha! Yeah, like I know what I'm talking about. People who write devotionals are all smart 'n stuff. They know the Bible inside and out. They have a relationship with Jesus that can not be penetrated. Pffft! Yeah. whatever.

But it got me thinking.

When I was writing about her I was able to recall verses in the Bible that I didn't even realize that I new. And when I would read it, I was able to understand it and actually apply it to my daily life. I was actually very fulfilled in reading the Word and living it out. Then, over time, I got in a funk. I've just felt overwhelmed and under attack. And in typical fashion, I would push my relationship and communication with God aside, only making my lot worse. Can anyone relate?

"All Scripture [is] given by inspiration of God, and [is] profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work. .."
2 Timothy 3:16-17


Er.. uh.. so here I am >>shrug<<. I'm taking a stab at getting back on track. I've rejoined a Bible study. One where the only book that is used is the Bible. And I'm blogging again. This time, with a *real life* application focus. This is for my personal growth, but you are welcome to come on the journey with me. I may not always nail the verse on the head, but I'm gonna try my best to. And maybe one day I'll look back on this and think: "Wow, I'm really glad I did it."

Friday, April 9, 2010

Wisest of Men....Me? not so much.

King Solomon is said to be the wisest of men to grace this planet. That's pretty big shoes to fill; or should I say sandals?? Think of all of the smart guys you've ever known personally, let alone heard of. Names like Einstein, Socrates, Dante, Plato, Darwin (ok, just checking to see if your paying attention on that last one. lol)... all pale in comparison to King Solomon.

My favorite story about him was when the two women came to him, demanding for a just judgement regarding a baby that did not belong to one of them.

"Then the king said, "Bring me a sword." So they brought a sword before the king. And the king said, 'Divide the living child in two, and give half to one, and half to the other'....And all Israel heard of the judgment which the king had rendered; and they feared the king, for they saw that the wisdom of God [was] in him to administer justice.
1 Kings 3:24-25, 28
So it was along this premise that I decided to teach a life lesson to my own children today. Now obviously, the initial idea was not mine, nor was the practical application of it. Rather, the latter I'd heard about from another mother that had successfully imparted this lesson to her brood. The scenario looked something like this: My mom had brought over a cake. An ooey-gooey chocolate and strawberry pudding filled cake. It has been in our refrigerator for a couple of days on the middle shelf, directly in the line of sight of my 5 year old. Everyday after school he has been asking if he can have a slice of this cake. I usually let him have a very small, very measured slice as a treat for completing his homework or whatnot (I've really milked the power of this cake, lemme tell ya). But I recognized today that he really has been a good boy in resisting the temptation of getting into the cake without permission. I mean, literally the thing has been staring him in the face, but he never tampered with it.
So while I was in the shower he came in and asked me if he could have some. I told him yes, but that he had to wait for me to get out to help him. I had it set in my mind to actually blog about temptation and set some verses to it and maybe even take a few pictures of him with his cake. And I was ready, with a camera in hand, to capture the moment of divinity when I told him that not only could he go ahead and have a piece, but that he could cut it himself. I was eager to catch every moment of it.
And then the moment of truth came...

His big brother showed up and asked for some cake too.

Well, I didn't have an issue of the boys sharing the last slice of heaven between them, but apparently *M* did. He wanted it ALL. I was really hoping to have a teachable moment here...

I KNEW that if I allowed *M* to cut the cake without direction, he would slice it to his advantage. Then it dawned on me.. I can still have the little one cut the cake.. but the big one would get to select which piece he wanted first. Surely this situation would be packed with wisdom and learning! You know.. love your brother as yourself.. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.. the list goes on.

Well, I tried to tell him before he cut into the cake that his brother got first dibbs. But apparently he thought I was joking.


It was a hard lesson to learn today.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it...

Have you ever had one of those moments where you are all alone and you completely embarrass yourself, but then you think: "well, at least no body was around for that one" -or- you think: "Wow. did I just say that out loud?" Yeah. I did that this morning...


Lemme back up a little bit. We've been out of bread for several days around here, which means, no sandwiches to take for lunch. I've been to the grocery store several times already this week and each time, I forget the bread. And that's not all. We were also out of milk. I had used the last of it the night before for Luke's bottle and I knew that he would want a bottle after we took the boys to school. So obviously, a trip to the market was in order. Well, today, for some reason, I was actually running early and had some time to go pick these things up before going to school. So I loaded all three boys into the van and headed to the corner market.

Again, lemme preface this by saying that we do not live in a ritzy area. at. all. Our neighborhood is older and well established, but very modest. And that's ok.. but "around the corner" (which is actually around several corners, about a half mile or so) it's pretty seedy. Put it this way.. there were three grown men outside of said *corner market* brown baggin' it this morning at 9am.

So after a laborious lecture of "don't touch anything, don't ask for anything, be nice to your brother, no I don't need that, put that cart back, didn't I JUST tell you no? we are only here for bread and milk", yada yada, I get all the kids in the store with me. We pushed past the banana stand (oops, lemme grab just a small bunch of those!) and strolled along the far wall (oh yummy, those crackers look good)..and we finally reached the bread. Two loaves in, with minutes to spare.

Then we headed over to the refrigerated section. *M* not being self aware yet, pushed his way past a man that was opening the case. He tried to grab a gallon of milk for me, but it was too heavy for his scrawny little arms to lift up and out, so the man leaned into help him. But in all reality, he totally cut off the man holding the door.

I quite sternly told *M* that he needed to wait his turn and to get out of the man's way. He was tall and kinda thin, wearing the marks on his face of a hard life. His hair looked a little dirty, his clothes didn't appear to be freshly laundered, his teeth were a wreck, but he was smiling while allowing my 5 year old to jump ahead of him. I was very proud of myself for reminding my son, publicly of course, how to treat other people. (Humfp! Yeah right all that was missing was my finger wagging in the boy's face). And in a split second, what I really thought in my head was: "eew, I hope you didn't touch the same milk that man did".


"Then the LORD saw that the wickedness of man [was] great in the earth, and [that] every intent of the thoughts of his heart [was] only evil continually..."Genesis 6:5

And there you have it.

In the quiet of the store, my ugly heart shouted from within me, but no body was around to hear it >>whew!<<. or was there? Yep, God heard it. loud and clear. And immediately I was embarrassed. Ashamed of myself. Literally, I could feel my face flushing... And then, as if the first thought wasn't bad enough, I tried to justify it by thinking.."But.. but...but... what if that man has hepatitis or something? eew. He was touching everything. It's people like *THAT* that cough and get nasty germs all over things. Oh gosh. Lucas please don't lick the handle of the cart. Crap! I forgot his shopping cart cover in the car!!"

When did this happen? when did I become afraid of other people? What does it mean?

"Let none of you think evil in your heart against your neighbor...Love does no harm to a neighbor; therefore love
is the fulfillment of the law..."
Zechariah 8:17 & Romans 13:10
"Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some have unwittingly entertained angels." Hebrews 13:2
For all I know, that man could have been an angel. The very image of Jesus Himself. And I effectlvely spit in the face of my...HIS...Creator. So what now? Quite frankly, I don't know. But I do know this: if a tree falls in the forest, SOMEONE will hear it.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Home Sweet Home...

This morning really isn't any different than any other morning. I woke up to find a little boy that had magically appeared in my bed overnight and was all snuggly and warm... The baby had woken up all smiles; the other boy still in his own bed, sprawled out like a spider web. And *A* already out the door on her way to school. If I were to have taken the time to survey my life in that moment, I probaly would have become so overwhelmed with thanksgiving that I would have been a puddle on the floor.

I never would have thought that I could or would be a stay at home mom. That I would have a strong husband who loves Jesus. A husband that would be able to provide for a family... let alone a family of SIX; that we would not have *real* want for anything. That we would be like minded Spiritually, committed to each other and our children...that we would dare to continue to dream together, even after having our hearts broken. To say that I am *blessed beyond measure* pretty much sums it up.

Close to nine years ago *B* and I had decided that we wanted more children. We also decided that we wanted to buy a house and have me stay at home to raise the kids. It seemed, at that time, to be so out of reach. It wasn't favored by many people that we knew.. hearing "What did you go to school for if your not going to *do anything* with your education??" became a sad reminder of what our culture has become. Ours seemed like an impossible goal.

But we really wanted to glorify God by raising our children in a *traditional* home, even though neither of us came from that background. *B* and I grew up in homes where the women did it ALL.. including earning the paycheck to support the family. We essentially knew nothing of how to make this work, with the man as head of the home and the woman as a dutiful helpmeet. But here we are. Four children later. In a home that God provided for us, that suits us perfectly. It's not a stately mansion (we will have one of those in Eternity). But for now, in our earthly diggs, we are satisfied. content. and BLESSED.

"Indeed I have all and abound. I am full, having received ((from Epaphroditus)) the things [sent] from you, a sweet-smelling aroma, an acceptable sacrifice, well pleasing to God. And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus..." Philipians 4:18-19

So at some point this morning, before the chaos set in, I made my way into the bathroom and was greeted by the faint scent of *B's* cologne. I tidied up the countertops and picked up the laundry off the floor. I then resumed my tasks of getting the boys showered and ready for school. (They are headed back after a week off for Spring Break. whew! I'm unabashedly looking forward to a quiet, lazy afternoon, just me and the baby with my chore list narrowed down and prioritized).

When I got back from taking the kids to school, I laid the baby down for a nap and returned to the bathroom to turn on my flat iron. I hardly noticed when I first woke up, but now when I re-entered the bathroom I was met again with the pungent scent of *B's* cologne still hanging in the air. I was surprised at how strong the scent was since he had been gone for ar least 3 hours. It was still as strong as it was when he first sprayed it. It was nice, a little something he'd left behind. But even more, a reminder that he isn't here. He's at work. Sacrificing himself day in and day out for our family. All for the glory of God.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Rabbit Trails...

Funny. Before I even begin this post, I side tracked. As I wrote the title.. I had to chuckle. You see, tonight is the eve of Ressurection Day... more commonly known as Easter. Get it??.. Easter.. rabbit trails.. hardy har har.

ANYWAYS... I was caught up in the quiet of the kitchen. The boys were all sleeping, my girl was in the other room.. I finally had the peace I'd been longing for all day. I was peeling eggs for the deviled eggs and making corn muffins; just thinking about tomorrow morning. I was envisioning the boy's faces when they see their Easter baskets. Picturing them, along with my neices, and the Easter egg hunt we'll have tomorrow in the backyard >>sigh<<. Just enjoying the solitude.

Mentally, I was going over the menu for tomorrow and craving the scent of what's to come. But as I was pulling out the muffin pan, I came across the service ware that I ALWAYS use for special occasions. I received it as a wedding gift; a beautiful silver plated platter and serving spoon with a glass baking dish. Every year at Thanksgiving, usually, I use it to bake my Praline Sweet Potatoes in. I scarcely remember using it for anything else. It's a side dish I made up that is in the makings to be a tradition. We don't have many of those anymore. I sorta left those behind when I moved away; alone now to make different traditions for my little family. One of them being my Praline Sweet Potatoes, served in this particular dish.

After each use, I have to wash and carefully wrap the silver pieces so that they don't tarnish. They have a brilliant mirrored reflection where they are covered, but in the few spots that are exposed, it is darkened. But I love this piece. It's so special to me.

So as I dutifully peeled the eggs, my mind wandered back to the meal for tomorrow. Drinks: check. Napkins: check. Paper Plates: check. (yes, I said paper plates.) For some reason, this seems weird to me to have paper plates. I really don't know why. I wasn't raised using China or crystal, and in all reality, paper plates are much more practical. No fuss, no muss. I was even taking inventory of how many aluminum trays I have to make the side dishes in. Heat, eat and toss. I was thinking about how much easier it's gonna be on me to use good 'ol Chinette. Then I crossed over to the silver dish.

Honestly, I didn't wanna have to unwrap the platter and unwrap the spoon... wipe it out before I use it..hand wash each piece when we're done and re-wrap it in the tissue paper that is now all wrinkled and tattered. Then it hit me. Well, more like tapped me on the shoulder.

"Then Mary took a pound of very costly oil of spikenard, anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped His feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil..." John 12:3

Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day my Savior conquered death. But somehow it turned into just hosting my family for Easter Dinner. Don't get me wrong, we are going to church in the morning and we will say a prayer of thanksgining before we eat. Even though I LOVE to have people over, amidst the hustle and bustle of preparations, it became a chore for me. It turned into corner cutting and second best. Oh how humbling it is to realize this.

"But Jesus said, 'Let her alone; she has kept this for the day of My burial. For the poor you have with you always, but Me
you do not have always'..." John 12:7-8

Tomorrow is a day to celebrate. I earnestly desire to celebrate the One who gave His life for me. I will remind my children of the story of Jesus' death on a cross. I will believe in Him to fill my home with His presence. I will honor Him by what I do for my family in remembrance of Him. I will worship Him by serving my sweet potatoes in my silver dish.