Hey! I'm half way to dead...ain't nobody got time for dat

"I know you don't read my memo's, so in case you are unaware, I am now a super villian."  
       - Mosely, The Suite Life

It's funny how quickly the right things in life become the wrong things....and the wrong things become the right things depending on who you are hanging out with.

As you get older you think  that wisdom through trial and error will grant you the gift of discernment.  It doesn't though.  I believe discernment is truly a gift from God that not everyone is given.  Certainly as adults we love to have the favortism of those that are well liked, cause then we feel well liked. Who doesn't want to be loved and adored by most people? If you say it doesn't matter what people think, then I believe you are a liar...dig deeper, it's there.

It's those times when folks ask of you to turn a blind eye, wink away certain behavior, or excuse it with immaturity to stay with the well liked group and to "be like everyone else" or "get on board" that we figure out who we really are on our own.

Drama starts as children, rocks hormones to the foundation as teens, annoy's the hell out of us in our 20's and 30's......and by our 40's, heck we are half way to dead.  Do we really want to spend the next 40 years of our God given lives dancing around everyones clearly seen stupidity and bad choices?

NO! I just want to be all ...REAL TALK IN YOUR FACE... and be done. By the time I speak all the nice words that coddle your ego and make you feel all furry bunnies and rainbows....I'll dang grow a freaking beard and die.

 "Ain't nobody got time for dat"

The thing is, being a Christian now is hard work for me. It shouldn't be, but it is.

Like....feeling God's grace and knowing His presence in my everyday and all day comings and goings is as natural as breathing. I'd suffocate literally without this constant hand holding session God has with me.

Dealing with stupid people = hard work......HARD WORK, intense manual labor. It's funny because these people believe in themselves and their faith is in themselves and the popularity they surround themselves with. So they "are always right." The entourage tells them so because that is what itching ears want to hear.

This is where the gift of discernment is halted. The things you once knew were right and good and planned to never leave, knowing bad things come from making rash decisions.....have now become the wrong things, and unpopular, and hard.....so they are left as thoughts in the file cabinet of the mind.....

.....to be picked back up at a later date when humbleness has forced your hand and won.......again.   Discernment will not be gained though, for alas, it is a gift.

If or when you come to the knowledge you haven't been given this gift....surround yourself with the folks who have it. Folks who love the Lord with all their heart, their soul, their strength, and their mind, so that your pathway will be much straighter.

A lot of times people who do the right things that are deemed wrong by the world or by the popular, unknowing, useful crowd. Then they are made to stand alone until (Warning REAL TALK that won't coddle an ego) life blows up in your face and you want to talk about it....just.... a little bit...... that turns into weeks of chaos of the mind.

It's pretty sad really.

I have been thinking a lot about Mulims lately because the beginning of Ramadan was today I think. They are afforded so many rights that we as Christians are not.  They are aloud to discriminate and be racist, to celebrate holidays without ridicule and are even celebrated in the media with positivity, they disrespect the role of women in 100 ways, and on and on.....

The reason people give them the respect they command as a religion is because they stand up for their god boldly and believe in what they are doing with the purpose of serving their god to be looked upon as righteous and good, we may see them as radical or crazy.....but what they are is crazy in love with their god, seeking his approval and blessings for faithfulness.....and so many times Christians just aren't.

.....and we are losing our people.....by our own self destruction. Worshipping the world and calling it changing with the times...trying to make God more hip and appealing to younger people ...

.....when the message is already appealing by itself. If we could be as radical and as crazy in love with the ONE TRUE GOD, seeking His approval and boldly standing alone for what is right....just to have Him smile upon us if for no other reason.....because His radical love makes us radical people.

I am downhearted about what our churches are becoming. Not even that you expect to find a perfect church, cause there are none, but just that you hope to find one where integrity and character mimic that of Christ consistently from the leadership down and not vice versa.

I am beginning to think America is surely not mentioned in Revelation because we are so incredibly weak in our faith and our knowledge of what God is really capable of.

There were a lot of things I used to want in a church for my family, but now I long for all Christian churches to put off what we deem as "church" and put on straight up, pure, radical love for Christ, HIS WORD, His adoration and love for one another and our neighbor as ourselves.

..............cause what we  do is play church......My heart weighs full to capacity with confusion and sickness.

Warning! REAL TALK is fixing to not coddle your ego, look away now: I am afraid to invite people to church. Scary folks, called Christians, live there and they could hurt you.

They do it all the time, and wink it away.

an egg- laying sea turtle & was hit by a gas-guzzling S.U.V........

Dear Blog,

The other day I saw a bumper sticker that said, "Nuke a Gay Whales for Jesus"

Which goes right along with the Bizarro cartoon in the paper..." A quadruple environmental tragedy today here, Brian, as a whale, tangled in a tune net full of dolphins, beached itself on top of an egg- laying sea turtle & was hit by a gas-guzzling S.U.V."

Then there was this article I read in Parade some time ago that told me....

...it was time for back to school when, for many families, the ABC's meet ADHD...according to the CDC 4.5 million children have been diagnosed, but "experts" don't know what causes it. New research points to pesticides particularly organophosphate- a man made toxin originally developed for chemical warfare and now used extensively in agriculture.  Scientists in the journal Environmental Health Perspectives write that children exposed to this in the womb have a higher chance of developing attention problems by age 5.


the article goes on and on and then states that possibly one million children are misdiagnosed. That some children just may be inattentive or behave poorly  because they are 5....


but to be better safe than sorry always wash your fruit and vegetables first.......


..... and take your child's age into consideration before getting an evaluation........um really?  This tid bit of info goes right along with do not put your hands flatly on an eye of the stove if it is cherry red, you may burn your freaking skin off moron.

At the risk of sounding completely judgmental and governmental conspiracy driven......this is my take on some things that make me want to poke my own eyeballs out or give someone a paper cut on purpose.

If your child spends most of his/her time in the house, on the computer, playing hand held games and watching TV and eating crap food and he/ she is getting on your nerves....that child does not have ADD or ADHD.

That child has PDD, Parental Disengagement Disorder.    Some parents need to get off their butts and cut the flipping TV off, get off the internet, and parent their children properly.

Do I believe some children respond better when taking medication?  Absolutely.

 Some kids need it and they need their parents to administer it to them properly...they need to freaking give the kid the medication themselves, make sure the kid freaking swallows it, and makes sure it given every day at the same dag gone time....I know a  kid in 3rd grade, whose parent tells him to take his medication which, he says he does, then he spits it out, his mother does not make him take it regularly nor does she refill his scripts when he's out.  That kind of parenting should be a dang crime.  She is doing her child a severe injustice in life.....and it affects all the children and adults this child comes in contact with....all day long.

On the medication as prescribed, the child is a different child altogether.

Some of the kids though,  are just drugged up and therefore more quiet and sedentary...and more pleasing to the parent who wants to do what the heck they want to do with minimal parenting.

How is it that 4.5 million children come to be diagnosed with ADHD??  It is absurd.

In the extreme sarcastic corners of my mind I see a woman with a colic baby and the doc's saying, "Here, just put some Ritalin in the bottle, this child has ADHD. Better yet, you take the medication yourself and then breast feed, it's more naturally administered that way and won't damage his self esteem  as he becomes an adult."

I swear some mornings while we are trying to school I vow with my hands raised to the ceiling, to put Cole on the yellow bus and never homeschool him...cause he gets on my nerves some days.  He behaves disorderly, disruptive, inattentive, and certainly hyper.......why?

Because I am schooling the other three, and he wants me to sit in the floor and play cars, read to him, color  with him, watch a movie with him, he wants Zac to wrestle with him, or Maysie to shoot video's with him....does he have ADHD?  No!  I could totally take him to the doctor explain his behavior and I swear I believe I could acquire medication.  However, the minute one of us switches our time to him to engage, the behavior immediately changes.

I don't mean we watch a movie with him or something surely quiet...I mean engage in an activity. It may be playing cars, walking the dog, putting up laundry together or making beds together...his behavior changes instantly.

I do believe they put entirely to much crap in our food.  God did not make our food to have a longer lasting shelf life or more nutrients and vitamins than He put into them Himself, certain small chickens aren't supposed  to be unnaturally plump for our consumption.

For sure some children are reacting to be over chemical-ed.....and certainly any one of  my children could be one of them. I mean for pete's sake we deal with OCD issues constantly in two children, two children have digestion issues & even I have been have had some issues with food lately & stomach pains, two of the children could be considered "hyper" by some......I mean pick a child, any child, any where....allergies galore these days,  environmental and FOOD allergies more now than ever! Autism, through the roof.  Cancer, through the roof. Alzheimers......Why???

Cause in the name of the almighty dollar our food is genetically modified and chemical-ed, if that is even a word.

I hate to sound manic, but gee wiz folks, I need some people to give me a break from being inundated with politically correct bullcrap. I am bored with that and unaffected.

I need some parents to quit excusing their children with ADHD and dag gone do some parenting that includes showing respect and discipline.

I need to be detoxed from all the chemicals.

I need some Midol & Lindor chocolate truffles probably too.



.

just squeezed as hard as I could..............

Looking back a bit...........

Early one morning after we had just gotten our tree up, before all the lights starting acting like morons....

CB jerks away from the tree as I walk into the living room, he looks guilty.

A- CB, what are you doing over there?

CB- Nothing

A- Are you sure? Cause your eyes tell me another story? I won't get mad just tell me. I promise I won't get on to you if you tell the truth. (we are now face to face- eye to eye)

CB- I broke something. (points to the tree)

A- Well where is it so I can see, cause I don't see anything Cole.

Cole heads off towards his room and I follow him. He gets underneath his train table and brings out a hand full of broken elongated glass Christmas ornament. I rush over...

A- Cole, baby, you can't have broken glass under your train table, give me that. You could have cut your hands.

Cole holds out his other hand which he has in fact cut, something like a long paper cut. I am astounded that he has cut himself and not told me and also that he hid the broken glass under the train table in his room.

A- CB, why did you hide this glass under your table? Why didn't you throw it into the garbage can, or tell me?

CB- I didn't want to get in trouble.

I am now under the train table myself picking up tiny pieces of broken ornament out of his carpet. I head back to the Christmas tree to look for more glass within the tree and on the floor around. I ask him how the ornament got broke, assuming he picked it off the tree and dropped it. um, no....he thought it "fit perfectly" into his baby grip, so he just squeezed it as hard as he could. It busted in his grip.

A- Cole! Gosh Son, that is madness. Look at your hand. Do not do that ever again.

CB- Well....I broke some more stuff too.

....heading back to his room and under the other side of his train table that I had paid no attention to before. I am like Oh Lord, what else God, what else?

Cole drags out a birage of broken crap toys(Happy Meal type toys and the likes) that he has taken apart and not been able to put back together.

He has always taken apart his stuff....and ours too. Like our air purifier...he totally took it apart when he had just turned three, filled it full of hot wheels and then put it back together. When I went to move it one day, I noticed it was heavy as all get out. I could hear stuff moving around inside but it wasn't in the area that you would change the filters, which perplexed me. He had filled a section that I didn't even know existed or even came apart.

I swear when he was little if I would 've given him a fork he'd have pried my baseboards off with it.

A- Wow CB. I can't fix this stuff, just throw it in the garbage.

CB- Are you mad Momma?

A- No cause I said I wouldn't get upset if you told the truth. Plus, now I get to throw some stuff that I hate to step on in the garbage (which I am happy about secretly). CB stop taking all this stuff apart, do you understand? Next time I find a pile of treasure hidden like this I will be upset.

Later that morning as all the other kids are getting motivated, CB is feeling good about himself telling the truth.

He starts to spill his honesty all over the breakfast table.

CB - Zachary, I am sorry I broke your Easter Egg. Maysie I am sorry I broke your swirl pen.

Maysie and Zac looking at each other - "What?!"

CB- I broke your stuff but Mom said it's okay today. I threw my pile of treasure in the garbage. I didn't get in trouble for breaking the glass cause I told the truth.

M & Z - What???! MOM!

............................................................

I am pumping gas at the shell station, the same gas station that my car battery quit working for no apparent reason and the one legged man wanted me to show him some love. They dang have TV's to watch while you pump gas. It's idiotic and yet entertaining at the same time. I mean for real, are we so in need of entertainment 24/7 that one has to watch freaking TV while pumping dang gas.

Television is everywhere. On it's mission to contaminate our minds and destroy what shred of decency our minds have left in some tiny corner. Let the brainwashing saturate us...even whilest thou pumpeth the freaking gas.

sidetracked...sorry.

Dig on this...this white dude hippie with dreds that have food and other unknown pieces of white crap in them, pulls up in his car with his girlfriend, a couple pumps down. He gets out, PUMPS THE GAS, THEN starts asking people around him, including me, if we have a dollar we can spare for him to get gas. I am like, you idiot, NO! No money hippie = no gas. you shouldn't have pumped till you could pay for it.

A- Dude...didn't you already pump yer gas??

Hippie -(distant far away look like he may be missing his time spent in rainbow & glitter Never, Never Land) uh, no.

A- Yer lying...

Hippie - (not affected by my calling him out, almost as if he has not heard me at all) - Do you have a dollar I could use to buy some gas.

A- No, all I have is my card. (Which is true, I may have had a quarter and dime stuck in my seats somewhere visiting with the stale, hard french fries)

The hippie continues on to ask some others, that also tell him "No." Hippie is in dilemma now and confers with his girlfriend in secrecy.

I finish pumping and rotting my brain with the gas station television and pull off. I have no idea how they paid for that gas or even if they did pay.

Those kinds of folks agitate my well being intensely in about 100 different ways. While one side argues I should have pity, feel for those in need, and help, help, help, give, give, give, do, do, do.......it's these exact folks that make me feel like this....

I think this is a sure sign I am getting older and less tolerant. The thing is I don't even feel guilty about it anymore either.

I totally gave her permission to kick me square in the butt ...........

Last Monday, not yesterday, Kacka Lacky, TN had our annual Christmas parade. I had agreed to walk with the girls in the parade because the gal who owns the clogging studio where they take lessons needed some adult chaperone's. It was cold, which was to be expected. The clogging studio got a super position in the parade sort of near the front of the line. The girls got lined up...the truck with Christmas clogging music screaming out the back of the truck bed, the "pro-cloggers" to clog all the way through the parade, the girls with the banner saying who we were, and then all the girls walking and throwing out candy...in that order.

It started to rain just as we were about get the show on the road.

.......that and the truck battery with the blaring music was dead.

Immediately the gal who owns the studio runs over to me and Ms. P and asks us if we have jumper cables. Which we don't cause she wrecked her vehicle hitting a deer and she had a rental car and I am just generally unprepared and in constant need of supervision when in the presence of any vehicles.

It has started to pour down rain now and we have lost our position. Our bags that have all the candy to throw out have gotten wet on the bottom and the bottoms literally start to fall out of the bags, spilling candy all over the streets where we stand in the pouring rain.....it's 40 degrees.

I had pathetically persuaded Ms. P into walking in the parade with me so I wouldn't have to walk all by myself not knowing anyone. um, yeah....I totally gave her permission to kick me square in the butt right in front of God and everybody.

The truck did get jumped off and despite losing our spot we ended up slap in the middle of the line in the parade. The SECC pro girls did clog all the way through the parade in the pouring rain. We did get sopping wet beyond all wetness in 40 degree weather. It was insane. In the end, it was a night I would surely remember as a sacrifice for my girls. Not only that, but even in the pouring rain Kacka Lacky town folks STAYED for the parade. I would have totally bailed if we had not been in the parade. But piles of folks lined the streets with their kids waiting to grab as much candy as possible. Our girls had a ball. I can actually say I had a pretty good time too.

D had the biggest umbrella known to man with Cole and Z waiting on us to come around. They got three full gallon sized ziploc bags of water-logged candy that night. Most of which hit the garbage the next morning for failure to dry in a manner that was eatable.

Ms. P's husband should have been in the parade he was waving us on bigger than the wavers in the parade. He was clearly excited and it made me happy to see his excitement. Her two boys, not quite as excited.

Meg and I agreed if we could get one of our kids to marry the other and have some children... some day...we could gab on about this night when we are older and grayer than we are now....cause it was surely epic.

We had to walk back to our cars at the end of the parade. Most of the mom's and a few teens could have passed for Alice Cooper.

It was till pouring down when we decided to just stop walking and call D to come pick us 6 drowned girls up under the shelter of the local car wash. He did.

My car smelled like wet vermin for like two days after that. I despise Febreeze cause it kills my sinuses, but it works so I used way too much of it.

We all got home, took hot baths, and put on warm fuzzy pajamas with slippers. It was an awesome way to end an unthinkable parade situation.


..........................
Quotes from parade night:

.....the Baptist church handing out cookies and hot chocolate earlier in the night before the parade.

D - CB, do you want some hot chocolate?

CB- No it's too hot, I don't like it too hot.

D- CB, do you want a chocolate chip cookie?

CB- No, I don't like chocolate chip cookies?

D- Well of course you don't. These are made with goodness and love by kind Christians, you probably want devils food cake.
____________

CB in the car on the way home...

CB- Yeah and then Zachary pushed me down in the street and my hat got grinched. (drenched)


____________


This is not our city parade, but gosh, it's funny....and worthy of parade catastrophe mention for sure. Listen to the folks distress when Rudolph meets his fate.

"You're tearing Rudolph!!!"....oh man...it's just ...a little funny.

This goes back to my previous blog about why do we do abnormal things at this time of year?

....like striding in pouring down rain in 40 degree weather to the equivalent of a Christmas version of Cotton-Eyed Joe....and pulling an extremely over-sized baby deer with a birth defect on an under thought out parade path that tortures town folks and little children into night terrors about it's death by gouging of an over zealous stop light.

...anyhoo, Happy Tuesday.

with a stop sign shaped tool................

Mondays......

Last night I totally took the girls to clogging practice. No lie, Ms.P left me hanging for a business venture possibly, so I was own my own with 5 girls for the night. I wondered what the heck I would do with myself at first cause Monday is gab yer head to the point of complete and utter emptiness.

I thought to myself, "Self....you could finish yer book tonight. Except yer eReader light is out of batteries and it isn't back lit...forget turning on yer car lights and draining the battery again. What to do???" In my mind flashed Z's DS game Rhythm Heaven....I would play his game FINALLY, in peace. THEN I was super excited to be on my own.

Nothing is ever as it seems though. When Smalls and her trusty side kick Spunky finished their class, the 5 girls headed off the McD's like we always do for some not nourishment. I had to get some gas first though.

**I got out

**I pumped the gas to full tank.....without my Kroger card which was deplorable.

**I got into the car.

**The flippin car WOULD NOT crank.

tick, tick, tick. tick, tick ,tick

Insert the whole jaw dropping syndrome again with all peeps great and small seated in my car.

A- WHAT??! REALLY??!

SB, May, Smalls, & Spunky - Oh no! I can't believe this!(etc, etc, etc)

I get out and this fellow and his wife that were filling the 2 cars they own and every single gas can from here to the TN border with their Kroger gas card at .40 off a gallon.....were in disbelief also. They were pumping when I pulled in. The husband tells me he doesn't have cables and we discuss for not more than 40 seconds how insane this situation is. I am gabbing with him and making the call to D......again, to come and rescue me.

It's cold and rainy...he isn't feeling my vibe and we are disgruntled with one another cause he is asking me questions I feel are inconsequential and he thinks I am not listening again...and I feel like not listening cause his questions are not helpful. I want him to say, " I am on my way," and he wants me to say "Oh never mind, the car cranked false alarm," or something of that nature.

While I am trying not to get frustrated with his tone of voice at my situation that is completely not my fault, Gas Can Husband has located an Old Navy Truck Man with jumper cables.

EXCITEMENT! I try to hang up with D so I can help this fellow make sure both ends do not touch, in the cold flippin rain, and show my gratitude....but D will not quit lamenting to me on the phone. I want him to be quiet and hang up now and he wants to know what's going on.

I HATE talking on a cell phone, can't stand it....even when not in dire situations. It just bugs the crap out of me.

D- CALL ME WHEN you get the CAR CRANKED! BYE! (D loves his cell phone, even though at this point he was on our home phone. Both D & my mom...the two of them, would lose all consciousness without their cell phones.)

Gas Can Husband connects the cables up completely different than Mr. P has told Ms. P and I.

Gas Can Husband connects the cables up completely different than D has told Ms. P and I.

Three men connecting cables in three different sequences...all telling me with confidence their way is the right way......and at what point the battery could spew rabid, clothes melting, flesh eating, acid onto your face......all three different.

The six of us females have concurred on this: At birth, males are given the knowledge of how to hook jumper cables up. I don't care what order they do it in, they do it with confidence and authority.

My car cranks right up.

Rejoicing!! Not near what it was when Ms. P & I did the man deed. But it did feel good to be rescued and rather quickly in the cold rain.

So I walk over to tell Old Navy Truck thank you for letting us use his cables and how grateful I am that he hadn't left the gas station yet.

Cause it's the south, he wants a hug. I gladly give him one. I am grateful.

Gas Can Husband is bringing the cables over and telling Old Navy Truck Man some man words about my car, that I don't care about. Gas Can Husband is happy cause I am happy....plus he's getting .40 a gallon off every piece of equipment he owns that will hold gas.

I pat his back and tell him "Thank You" and he squeezes my shoulders as in a half hug, cause he's glad to help a car full of gals. Gas Can Wife is happy too, cause her husband is the super hero who saved the day.....plus she's getting .40 a gallon off every piece of equipment he owns that will hold gas.

Well....Old Navy Truck has been talking to a One Legged Man, who makes BBQ sauce, while we are having Monday night drama at the Shell. One Legged Man, one legs it on over to my car and discovers that my battery cables are loose and this is why my completely fine battery has repeatedly acted incompetent.

The three men agree that One Leg has discovered the answer to all of the worlds problems. They all shake their heads in a concurring manner....I do this also. It feels like the right thing I am supposed to do.

One Legged Man tightens the cable best he can till I can get home for D to tightened it properly with a stop sign shaped tool.

Then he declares the car good for another 100,000 miles.

One Leg informs me that he saw me give the other two dudes a hug and he wants one too. After all, he is "the one who discovered the loose battery cables."

We all cackle a bit, I hug him and he reminds me that the Shell gas station sells his BBQ sauce inside and for me to go and buy some. The three males shake hands. They are heroes who have saved 5 females and they have been hugged properly for it......plus Gas Can Husband has gotten .40 a gallon off every piece of equipment he owns that will hold gas.

After that, food was gotten at the drive thru.... Smalls & Spunky played in my car with it running, while I played Rhythm Heaven on Z's DS....and SB & May made it to their class on time.

Furry Bunnies and Rainbows........

Somebody's duck is out of line here...but it isn't mine......

I was on this rant about how kids appear to be generally ungrateful these days …not my kids of course……..or yours……you know other people’s kids are generally ungrateful is what I was saying.

I was discussing a particular situation to a friend of mine who happens to run another Awana program in Knoxville with her husband.  This woman completely encouraged me.  She and her Awana youth group are planning to go to some Awana shindig in St. Charles, Illinois.

She was telling me that the youth literally have to do x, y, z amount of community service in the name of the Lord or work for the church in some way to go on the trip and/or obtain church funding for the trip if they do not have the funds to go.  In other words, the church does not just hand them over the cash to go, even if they can’t afford to go.  The kids who want to go actually have to show initiative and do something for it.

This year, in order for the 13 youth who want to attend this event, to go to the shindig... they participated in the “Duck-out-of-line” at the Duck, Duck Goose consignment event in Knoxville.

This event is a huge consignment sale in an old K-Mart building.  It is a 4 or 5 day event (including a private shopping day for consignors) that supposedly rocks all consignment sales to the very foundation of the earth in these parts of town. 

I am told during this conversation that the line goes all the way around the building and then some to get inside….then to pay is another line all the way around the other side of the building.

A “Duck-out-of-line” is a person who gets paid $10 to stand in line for you and hold your spot while you shop.  So that when your shopping has been completed, you can get in line where your “duck” is.  If your duck is already past the paying counter, then guess what? NO WAITING at all! You get immediate ups and no waiting in line at all!!! All of the money earned by the people who volunteer for this (churches and local charities) get 100% of the money!

The ladies that I am conversating with tell me the Duck out of line is well worth the $10, as a wait in line to pay for merchandise can be up to an hour or more.

I decided to go and check out this consignment sale for myself after our co-op classes and as sure as a dog sniffs another dogs butt – the line to get in the place was as long a line as I had ever seen.  The Ducks out of line were busy with their clip boards signing people up.  I swear if I had been determined to go into the place I would have paid someone $20 to stand in line for me. Instead I opted to go to Old Navy and by M & Z new coats. I just tried to let go of my unearth friendly guilt for not recycling....it didn't take too long.  

I am just gonna say… Maysie's unearth friendly coat.... it’s tha dang the bomb. 

So, Ms. Awana Co-Commander ….. yeah, she took her 13 Awana youth teens down there to be Ducks out of line.

On the Wednesday preview sale for the people who are consigning clothes and other special designated folks….the teens made $1300…….towards their trips to the Awana event.  That’s $100 bucks a piece minimum for each kid towards their trip for one day of service.

 

I thought that was SUPER COOL!

The following week I see Ms. Awana Co-Commander and asked her what her finally tally was for the kids towards their trips…….Did they meet their goals?

Uummm YES!  Those teens made $4000 dollars towards their trip in 3 days’ worth of work!!!!!!!  

So they stood in line for folks repeatedly at a consignment sale at $10 bucks a pop and worked off the entire cost of their trip. 

This says a minimum of 6 things to me:

**These teens are motivated to go on a Jesus trip that is important to them.

**These teens take pride in seeing their goals completed.

**These teens are being rewarded for diligence.

**These teens parents don’t have to come up with $300 randomly when the economy is not optimal….AND during the holidays

**These teens parents must be proud of their child for doing something not fun like standing in line for three days to help pay for their trips and possibly the trips of those who could not afford to pay for the trip themselves.

**This Awana Leader did something right and good here.

I am just going to say, I love it when a child is able to stand back and look at good work completed and be amazed that they were a part of something bigger than THEMSELVES.  

As an adult I enjoy this feeling myself when I accomplish a big task. 

Being a child or a teenager would only magnify this good feeling of accomplishment because the world is so big and so much has yet to still be discovered.

It is my personal opinion that enabling a child to appreciate his/her situation more by digging in deep and hard sometimes……..is good for their self-esteem, not bad.

I am over handing out stuff to kids for free because they expect it.  This is the type of adult we are breeding, a society where they believe themselves to deserve to be given stuff that isn't theirs to take.  

Sometimes it feels to me... youth, generally speaking,  know nothing about how to be humble.  

However, I am proud of at least 13 who do.

HAVE AN OUTSTANDING TRIP AWANA TEENS!

YOU’VE EARNED IT!!!!

Do you want some of my whoop, whoop?.......

D got a facebook. He is addicted to it, though he claims he is not. He was conflicted about what exactly it meant to add "friends" to your list. We had this long overdrawn out discussion about "friends." Then like, one of his first status updates was some business about about how I said his "friends" weren't his "real friends" and can he get a "whoop, whoop" if you are his friend and fa lala lala la la la la.

I am like, slow yer roll dude, that is not what I said at all. But as is common practice I gave him a mulligan and let him have his FB fun. Cause you know how it is when you first get on FB...it's a time eating machine that you think about incessantly.

Well of course all of his friends are going to "whoop, whoop" him, for crying out loud. No amount of explaining I do is going to take back that inaccurate status update.

So all day long his phone is dinging to show someone else has given him a whoop, whoop. He appended a certain high pitched voice to the whoop whoop as the day progressed. By the end of this particular day D has a whoop whoop dance to go with it.

He is feeling very FB encouraged and asks me if I would like to have some of his whoop whoop.

I am like, "I don't know man, if it's anything like yer couscous I need to think about it."

....he is still getting whoop whoops and he still does the dance, even after nearly two weeks.

.........................................................

A- Cole what would like for dinner?

CB- uuuuummm......I think I would like to have some chips with some tater tots. (he's serious)

A- uuuuummmm.....Let me see......hoooooww about, no. Try again.

..............................................................................

We had this awful bout with chiggers a couple weeks ago. They were awful. Zac, May, and I all had bites all over our legs. They were rampant at the soccer fields apparently and lots of folks I had spoken with had bites on their legs also. I was Google-ing endlessly one day to find a source of termination for the incessant itching on our legs......fingernail polish worked great for us.

A link for Urban Dictionary came up. It read something to the effect of

Chiggers - Chegroes -

Politically-correct name for biting insects; ie chiggers.

This caused me to snicker a little, but not too much cause I didn't want to get honkey guilt.....

Warning: Urban dictionary can be mind contaminate, but some of the new phrases and meanings, are pretty witty.

........................................................................

I took Cole to the Kroger Deli so as not to feed his addiction to the sight of Golden Arches.

I swear if you take a child to McD's one time it is a permanent life addiction until they reach 40.

When it suddenly catches up with them and then they have to take a probiotic and some Colonix to regain some sense well being and decontamination.

Anyhoo....

CB- I don't want to eat at the Deli

A- I don't care CB. There is no way I am going in McD's today, the smell makes me gag.

CB - You can just hold yer nose Momma, that's what I do when it stinks.

A- No, CB ...you'll like this stuff I promise. Little, tiny chicken legs and green beans, it'll be good trust me.

CB does love the 5 little chicken legs he has picked out and the beans. He is smacking his lips in the back seat on the way home.

CB- mmm......mmmmmmm.......mmm...Mom I love these chickens. I am gonna save these two for Skylar and Zac.

A- Sky can't eat those Babe, go ahead and eat them. I will buy Zac some legs later okay?

CB- Mom what's this stuff say on the top? (he's holding the lid up pointing to the ingredients list)

A- That's the ingredients. It tells what they make the chicken flavoring from.

CB - Well.......I love these ingredients.

...........................................................................

and Michael Jackson's hair to blow up.........

So I turned 40 this past Sunday on the 12th.

To me this signifies(God willing) the beginning of the next half of my life. I certainly want to do things a little differently now than say I did 5 years ago.

It turns out that D and I were able to go to the Biltmore Estate for a couple days by ourselves. My mom came in town from Atlanta to keep our kids on Friday. Shortly after that, D and I headed toward North Carolina. We were to stay at his parents mountain house in Bryson City then tour the Biltmore on Saturday.

On our way over we stopped for lunch at this place called The Apple...something or other.....it consisted of a few nice log type buildings. One building a cafe, one a super cool general store with old fashioned candies, jams, jellies, banjo bird houses and stuff. The third log building sold quilted goods, candles, and other things women generally go nuts over like cool book marks, nice dishes, and monogrammed stuff.

Lunch was delicious. The stand out items from lunch were the house made potato chips, they were outstanding. I could have eaten way to many of them and in a hurry. I had a peach fritter that wouldn't stand a chance against my Momma-Bet's(grandmother) apple fritter.

Walking into the general store you get slammed in the face with the smell of rock your world flavored coffee beans ready for the scooping. There was this one maple coffee that I was just about to stick my face in and suffocate myself, but I refrained. So this hiker/runner type couple enters the store behind D and I. They are from the north and not very chatty. I know cause they commented on the smell of the coffee and I had just lifted my head from the barrel of maple delicious goodness...

A- You have to smell this one, it's amazing. They all smell great.

Husband (half smiling like he smells dog dooky) - yeah

Wife - Well we bought coffee last night. (she moves on past me without ever looking at me)

A- OOookay then.....

I move onto the old fashioned candy and what do my wondering eyes spy but CANDY CIGARETTES and bubble gum cigars. Remember the kind that you would puff and powdered sugar came out like smoke? I hadn't seen those in like forever. Because who buys candy cigarettes for their kids to pretend to be smoking for petes sake.

uumm ....me.

I bought a pack of the bubble gum, powdered sugar smoke ones, a pack of the candy stick ones that taste like stamps with the red tip insinuating fire, and 4 bubble gum cigars......cause that's the kind of parent I am.

The kids and I had just been discussing how when I was a kid, we walked to the Tenneco gas station up the street. we'd buy 3 cent a piece gum or if we were lucky enough to have a full .35 we'd get a candy bar.....an by the way while you are there get your mom some Benson & Hedges Lights. I'd buy my mom's cigarettes and buy myself candy ones and pretend to be smoking. All the kids I knew bought their parents cigarettes. We'd pull in the gas station and our parents would send us in to buy the cigarettes so they didn't have to get out of the car.

For real, I mean we didn't think anything about it. Today if you sent your kid into a gas station to buy cigarettes somebody would probably report you for abuse.

Nonetheless, the kids were intrigued by the thought of bubble gum cigarettes that blew out powdered sugar like smoke. When I saw them I knew I had to get them. I also found honey sticks in all flavors. They wouldn't touch the ones we bought fresh in Santa Fe though.

When I got the stuff home Cole wouldn't touch the bubble gum cigs. The powdered sugar looked like smoke to him and he wasn't having any part of that....even when I showed him the cigarette was purple and you could eat it. It was funny and it made me feel good about his decision making too. The other 3 were basically just trying to puff the sugar out and thought the gum was horrible. It was back then, and it still is now... horrible tasting gum.

The stamp tasting candy stick ones...Z ate like they were steaks. Of course he is at the stage where he might eat a stick of butter if there is nothing else within his immediate grasp.

I am glad they got to see them. It showed me that my kids even the young ones are quite able to distinguish between things that are good for them and things that are not. They understood these were for fun and it was fun to puff the sugar and turn red in the face trying to get it all out, but that was all it was.

I love that my kids are cool that way. They react accordingly cause they aren't expected to overreact. They don't have to be explained all this philosophical hullabaloo about ......Now children these aren't REAL cigarettes and they are just for play...we all know cigarettes aren't good for your body....isn't that right children? Now we all know matches start fire and fire, young people without the brains to think, causes cancer and Michael Jackson's hair to blow up...blah, blah...blah...blah...blah, blah....

Okay where was I?

In the store. I bought some awesome Minnetonka Moccasins also.

While I was paying for my bad parenting products and my shoes, I totally saw the hiker wife going beserk in the scoop your own coffee beans section. No lie she was scooping hard and so fast filling her clear bag to capacity. D said he saw her spilling beans all over the floor. In my heart I felt like hiker wife was an idiot. She talked to her husband like he was her pet, I didn't like it. The hiker husband was kinda sniffy too. I didn't respect him too much for letting his wife talk to him like that....but he was wearing the coolest Keen shoes and I did respect that he treated his feet well.

Gotta a lot of stuff to get out...it may take a few blogs but it'll all get here eventually.......

sippin from a tea cup, with my pinky up..........

Happy Monday to all my peeps who "kiss their boo boos & clean doggy doo doos."




.....singing Farmer in the Dell in perfect harmony..... LOL

You had a little run in with the car today huh?

CB-(whining)uuuuuuuuuuuuu I am so bored.....

A- Well, don't look at me. I'm not the dog and pony show, go outside.

CB- No it's too hot and you won't take me to Lake Fish Boobies.

A- Lake Fish Boobies? Where is that??

CB- You know where the fish tried to eat my boobies off....

A- CB, where did that happen??

CB- You know where the the big kids left me and went to the ropes and you made me play with the boy in the water fountains and his mom had brown teeth.

A- Oh you mean the county park...with the geese that chased you and when Logan was with us?

CB- Yes, I want to go there and you won't take me.

.........Lake Fish Boobies...

...............................................................................

I stopped at a gas station on the way to the orthodontist some time back. May was the only child with me this particular morning. I got out of the car and stepped toward the passenger door. My drivers door did not shut. It just pulled closer to the vehicle.

• I pulled my purse from the car seat in which CB would normally sit.
• I turned to head inside.
• I crammed my face into the verticalness of the edge of the metal car door, from my forehead to my upper lip.

Hear this. I nearly knocked myself out. I ran into it so hard. My sunglasses flew off and fell to the ground. I was seeing spots and disoriented for about 10 seconds.

May- (in front passenger seat) GOSH! MOM!(snicker) Are you okay???

A-(coming to my senses and realizing how that must have looked and sounded to her) Yes,(snickering a little myself now) oh man, I totally ran into the door.

May - You think? Are you okay? You're gonna have a bruise on your face.

I am rubbing my forehead and trying to figure out how this happened and my head is seriously swelling up vertically, matching up with my car door.

I begin to make light of the situation with Maysie, while she is reliving how it appeared from her perspective. I have to laugh at myself cause the whole situation is retarded.

I shut the car door. I properly make sure I am aligned correctly with the pavement and curb for walking, I head into the gas station store.

This skinny Indian fellow with a lot of puffy black hair.....

I don't mean like a Navajo or Cherokee Indian......like a real Indian fellow, whose wife may have a red dot on her forehead....well, if he had a wife and all....

.....is smiling his straight white teeth at me very big.

Indian fellow - Are you okay Miss? You had a little run in with the car today huh? You did not see the car door, yes Miss?

A-(snickering again, cause I'm an idiot and busted by the gas station dude) Yes, WOW... Dude, I totally almost knocked myself out. I mean fer real. I saw some dots and the whole works...and look at my forehead. I got a vertical bruise showin out already all up on my face.

Indian man - (still showing me his really big smiley teeth) oooohh yes, I do see that. It will be a shiner....... how to explain that one my friend. Yes I saw you stumble around and your glasses were flying off of your face. Yes, it appears a full spilt down the middle Miss. Would you like to buy new sunglasses? (Gesturing toward gas station sunglasses.)

Okay.....it is clear he has enjoyed my folly way too much. I pay for my stuff and turn to head out.

A- Negative. I don't want anymore sunglasses. Apparently I need some prescription glasses do you have any of those?

Indian man - Yes Miss, have a nice day today. Watch that vehicle door today, the driver's side is out to get you for sure....(still smiling showing me all his teeth)

A- Yes, I will.....

....back at the car, where May has been waiting for me.....

M- Yeah... the gas station guy totally saw you bust it. That's hilarious.

A- Shut up May.

This was before it turned blue....and then green & yellow....

.....................................................

While in the mountains CB is laying with me on the couch.......STILL sucking his thumb.

A- You know if you don't quit sucking yer thumb all the green scooters will be gone. You'll have to get another color.

CB- No I won't. What's that fat guys name? The one at Christmas....

A- Santa Claus?

CB- Yeah, him. I'll just ask him to bring it. His people can make it.

I push him off the couch.

CB - What???

A little Nook..... or two, part 2........

Saturday morning D and I got up and had coffee on the back deck with each other in peace. He read his phone and I read about my new Nook through the manual loaded on it. It was awesome to hold and I felt cool.

I sort of felt really white. Here we are way up on a mountain with all this great scenery and animal sounds....and both my husband and I are stuck face down in our electronics with our perfect little children snuggled in their beds while we sit together in "peace" on the back deck of a vacation home......with our minivan in full side view.

Once the kids got up, ate, and we packed our cooler for the day, we took off for Deep Creek park.

We grabbed a picnic table, plopped all our earthly belongings on top of it and around it to be sure everyone knew this table was well taken.



I walked up the path a mile or so with them the first time, so I could take pictures of them on the way down. I knew once we got going I'd be leaving my camera behind. OOOOOO h yeah, everyone was gung hoe that first walk up, toting their own tubes & couldn't walk fast enough.

Once they put in I took off down way to catch a few shots.

This was around 10:30 am or so and no one was at the park yet. We had the run of the creek to ourselves and few other folks.

By the time we left around 4:30 pm that afternoon the park was packed. There wasn't a single parking place anywhere, trying to find a picnic table would have been a serious joke. The creek was so full of tubers that as far down as I could see, was nothing but a sea of neon orange, Santa Fe sky blue, and lime green tubes. It was the complete opposite of our first run of the day.

The water was super cold all day. This was a great help to those of us who fell off of our tubes every 10 minutes or so. D set CB up so that we could be attached to him by way of a rope which was brilliant. This way if he flipped or got to far ahead we were on him quick.

Well of course D brought him down with flying colors the first run. CB had a ball, couldn't wait to go again. It takes a little while to get back down once you put in. D announced he was going to sit the next run out and let me take CB. He would start the grill for lunch. D explained to me CB roping technique. I listened and we took off.

We are 1/4 to 1/2 of the way up. CB doesn't want to walk anymore. I am toting his tube and a heavy black tire tube (cause D and Z claimed those were the better tubes vs. the brightly colored lighter tunes. More durable = MORE HEAVY, with no handles) I am toting 2 tubes. Sky is not wanting to carry her lighter tube. Now Z is toting her tube. CB is starting to whine about he's hungry and he doesn't want to walk. It's a long walk for small stride legs.

In my show no mercy mind I'm all, Oh no dude, yer butt is going up and walkin too, yer the one who wanted to go a second run immediately and didn't want to take a break, get to steppin Larry.

Z ends up putting CB on his back and telling Sky to tote her own tube. Z hauls CB a good ways up while carrying his own tube. It takes us forever to get up cause Z and I have to keep switching off with our heavy tubes and CB and Sky and their tubes. I proclaim a minimum of 50 times that I am never getting a heavy black tire tube again...... I don't care what they say, I want a dinky neon tube with handles. I notice at the end of the day we are the only fools who even got the heavy tire tubes......not gonna do those again.

At the top we put in. I work the rope and fall off my tube at least three times cause I am just not that well balanced and coordinated enough to lay back and just work it. So I am sitting upright. This causes me to get hung up on the rocks....um...........all the way down. It makes CB worried cause it is taking so long to get down and he is cold, tired, and hungry. This young, hip, fit, hiker type couple on the side sees me working the rope. They stand up and cheer me on.....for real.

"Way to work it Momma! wooooooooooooo!!! You look like a pro! You own the creek Momma!!!!! Aren't you supposed to be sitting on the bank chillin out? "

A- YES! What happened to that?! Go get my husband and tell him I need to chill out on the bank with my Nook & a soda!

Couple - Yer almost to the bottom Mom feel the rope, be the rope!! (they LOL) You're a PRO MOM!!!

A- YES!!! (swooshing on by) I am the creek master! Go and tell the world you have seen me!!!

Couple - (laughing, hooting & cheering)

I loved them cause they must have seen me trying to be a good mom and ready to get off that tube.

So we finally get to our picnic table pull out spot and it has been over an hour since we left. My arms are killing me and CB is super cold and hungry. He immediately starts crying and telling dad I fell off the tube and got hung up on every rock. D thinks I am a tubing moron, I think cause I can't lay back and do the rope. I feel the need to sit up on the tube to be alert. Which obviously worked against me at full strength.

D has made the most delicious hot dogs and hamburgers for us. I am bow down and worship grateful. After lunch D is ready to go again. D, M, and Z sneak off without CB & Sky while they are playing around in some pools beside our table.

I am thinking I am so done today. My arms are killing me to the point that putting a pickle in my mouth seems like an Olympic event that someone should give me a medal for. I need that couple to cheer me on to raise my arms to drink my soda.

"you're a pro MOM!!! You own the caffeine free diet soda, work it, feel the soda, be the soda!!!"

We have partnered up with these older than us couples(in their late 50's and 60's). We watch their tubes and they watch ours for picture taking and bathroom breaks and general cutting up.

D has had a jolly good time at my expense agging CB on about what a terrible tuber I am and how Dad is really the king of the creek. The more CB tells of our experience down the creek, the more D aggs him on, the more the old folks laugh. Finally D takes him down one more time and then claims he is done tubing for the day. He is getting sore and scratched up also, even though he has not fallen out.

Alas the 3 oldest kids want me to go with them one more time. I don't have to take CB which is cool, so I hop up ready for some action.

I fall off and get stuck on the rocks cause I am an awful tuber all the way down. This bald man with straight white teeth is behind me steady laughing and having a barn hootin laugh out when I get hung up and flipped in this one rapid.

He hollers out, "Don't worry about it! It looked pretty Momma! (insert hillbilly laugh out)"

He hits the same rapid and flips. I hop on my tube. I am on the tube but not floating frontward the way I should be. I hollered back cause I can see his head pop up out of the water and he's pulling his pants up, "Don't worry about it Poppa, It looked pretty!" I see his smiling white teeth and bald head......his face reads that he is so busted, but a super good sport.

Z has been the gentleman on this ride down. He waited for me all the way so he could get me unstuck and help me when I fell off. When we pull out D is packing up and I am thankful. All of us are scratched up, exhausted, and sore....not just me. On the way home despite being scratched up & exhausted we are relaying constantly how fun the day was. We all thanked Maysie relentlessly for suggesting we come to the mountain house for her birthday.

It was a super good time. The whole weekend was awesome.

I have no idea why everyone called me "Momma" this weekend.

I may need to make some adjustments to my outer shell.