Shut. Up.

My radio station is playing Christmas music. I expected it tomorrow, but today totally cracked me up.

Tell Me

What is the point of having the more expensive "quiet wash" washer, when from three floors down, running a load of laundry can wake the baby?

It isn't the washer that is loud, it is the water pipes that bang during the spin cycle.

And no, I can't get the washer any better balanced.

AND

Why I save clothes from one baby to the next when I never like the same attributes as I did on the previous baby? I used gowns for my first two, the third? I hated them and put him in t-shirts to sleep. I specifically bought footed sleepers for Frodo. That is all I saved from Frodo to Charming. And, when I hit a sale while pregnant with Charming I grabbed up a few more footed sleepers and skipped the ones with no feet. Charming Will. Not. Sleep. if his feet are covered. I kid you not. And he's a mighty cranky fellow when he's awake unless his feet are bare. Not even socks. (He gets that from me.)

I am so over saving clothes from one kid to the next. All that Eldest wanted to wear when he was in 5s was jeans because he liked pockets (he stuffs them full of all kinds of junk). Frodo wants sweats. Even when he wears pants with pockets, he hands me stuff to carry. Whatever.

Boxing Shorts

We were recently given a bag of clothes from Frodo's second cousin...well actually, my sister was recently given lots of bags of clothes and those that her kids couldn't fit, she gave to us. Most of them were for Frodo. When he saw the pile of new duds, he immediately started going through it.

"Mom!" He said. "New jammy pants!"

"Boxer shorts. But you can wear them for jammies if you want to."

::gasp:: "Now I can box with Daddy!"

He immediately stripped down to his skivvies and put them on. Wore them that way most of the day. As soon as Hubs came home, he began asking to box.

Never mind he wears boxers much of the time. These, my friend, are his boxing shorts.

What's Important

Progress. I know what is really important to me.

My writing.

I've been O/C today checking my email because I have a couple submissions out.

My Orphan's Ministry.

I've been O/C today checking my email because I am trying to set up a meeting with a local foster care representative and I was awaiting her answer.

Not having pants that are even a hair too short.

I tried on everything in my closet and got rid of all the pants I keep JUST IN CASE everything else is dirty. I did a similar thing with tops. If it fits in the chest, but not in the shoulders I won't wear it unless I have no other option. I am removing the option.

Small steps.

On the Loose

I've spent the last two weekends binging on fiction. For whatever reason, I've been reading a lot of non-fiction lately (and much of it is getting on my nerves, so you must wonder why). I'd forgotten how easy it is to read fiction. Or better said, how hard it is to put down...that I can read a whole book in two days (mostly evenings). Anyway, all that to say that I think this is why I had a very vivid dream last night about being in high school with an evil PE teacher.

What is rather humorous about this is that my PE teacher, although not my favorite teacher in HS, wasn't particularly bad. That and PE/Health I shared with Hubs when I had a major crush on him so even the intolerable was quite enjoyable...

Anyway, though I'm reading something else this week, last week I read Jenny B. Jones On the Loose. Call it chick lit for teens. Teen chick-lit. There are so many levels to this book. The protag is this troubled teen in foster care and her issues in High School (exacerbated by her situation). It is one of the first Young Adult (teen) books that I've read in a while that didn't make me regret a million things about high school. If you have a teen girl, I highly recommend it. Katie makes mistakes, she has a mouth on her, but she is also genuinely trying to better herself, even if she is misguided.

If you don't have a teen girl, I still highly recommend it. Call it women's fiction in a young lit voice. She deals with breast cancer and fear. And she deals with the foster system. It makes me feel an urgency to get myself certified so that I can foster and make a difference. (Even though I know now is NOT the time.)

I can't wait to read the next episode in the Katie Parker Productions. Actually, I can't wait to read the first episode in the Katie Parker Productions (even if it isn't necessary to enjoy this one).

Hopefully, tonight Mr. Penner won't be laughing maniacally as he eats good food in front of us while making us eat some funky unhealthy chicken salad something just before we do a bajillion sit-ups to demonstrate that our eating habits are killing us. Seriously.

Yes, I know this came out of nowhere considering what I wrote yesterday. I don't want to think about my mental clutter this morning. I'm going to go through my closet and declutter and hopefully declutter my mind with it.

Where Am I Again?

Today, mid-sentence in my book, I was compelled to quit reading and stand. Hubs looked up and asked "what?" to which I responded, "I'm dissatisfied with my life." He asked what part and I burst into tears and said, "all of it." I got a drink, put on my shoes and told him I needed to take a walk.

After walking for, oh, a half hour I looked up to realize that not only do I not know where I am, I don't know where I'm going.

It only took a moment for me to figure both out, but it occurred to me that that is where I am in life. I don't know where I am, nor where I'm going. I have no idea who I am or what I am doing.

It is mighty hard to get anywhere or accomplish anything when you are in that state.

So, just to give you a heads up, I might not be chipper on my blog for a while. But I'm sick of faking my way through life. I'm going to pretend I don't know anyone who reads this and try to figure myself out.

Laughter, the Best Medicine

I was struck this weekend as to how long it has been since I laughed. I've been amused enough to exhale sharply through my nose. And yesterday my sister drew a small chuckle with a story about a crying marionette four year old. But a gut busting belly laugh. Looooooong time.

I know you can tell from my posts that I seem to be in a funk. I used to write funny things. Or things I found funny, at least. And I've become way too morbid lately. This evening at supper, Frodo did or said something that I thought, "there you go, now you have something funny to write," but I've totally forgotten what it was.

What I need is a good laugh. I want to laugh so hard that I cry. Maybe if I could have a good laugh and a good cry I'd quit with this mood I'm stuck in. Anyone see any good YouTube lately?

It's Huckabee or Hillary
By Janet Folger

There has never been another election like this in all of our history – it is for all or nothing … literally.

We will either win everything we have worked for in the last three and a half decades or we will lose it all. Beyond losing the chance to restore protection to unborn children in our lifetime, we face losing every single pro-life law we have passed in the last 34 years. Parental notice, parental consent, the woman's right to know law, waiting periods, fetal homicide, abortion funding restrictions, partial-birth abortion bans – all gone – wiped off the books in every single state with the promised signature of Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama to the radical "Freedom of Choice Act," or FOCA.

On April 19, the day after the Supreme Court handed down the Gonzales v. Carhart partial-birth abortion decision, Rep. Jerrold Nadler, D-N.Y., chairman of the House Judiciary subcommittee that would hear the bill, introduced H.R. 1964, stating: "… [T]he Court has, for the first time since Roe v. Wade, allowed an abortion procedure to be criminalized. … [FOCA] would bar government – at any level – from interfering with a woman's fundamental right to choose … to terminate a pregnancy."

You see, when 28 million evangelical Christians sat home in 2006, we handed the keys of power in Congress to those who hate us. Not only did they pass "hate crimes" legislation, which, without a presidential veto, will criminalize Christianity, now nearly a fourth of the U.S. House of Representatives and a fifth of the U.S. Senate are cosponsors of the most radical abortion bill this nation has ever seen. The only thing FOCA doesn't do is implement the forced-abortion policy of China, which, I suppose, they can add by amendment.

FOCA's Section 4 prohibits the government from "the regulation or provision of benefits, facilities, services or information," and Section 6 makes it retroactive:

This Act applies to [and invalidates] every Federal, State, and local statute, ordinance, regulation, administrative order, decision, policy, practice, or other action enacted, adopted, or implemented before, on, or after the date of enactment of this Act.

Say goodbye to every single pro-life advance we have made in three and a half decades. And say hello to partial-birth abortion performed on your 12-year-old daughter without your knowledge or consent, paid for with your tax dollars in every single state. That's what Hillary and Barack will sign if elected to the White House.

Forget experimental strategies like starting a third party. You do desperate things like that when you don't mind losing and there are no other options. Neither is true in this case. There is simply too much at stake. What the values voters need to know is that we have the best opportunity we have ever had at winning everything right now – in the primary.

Rasmussen Reports, the nation's most accurate polling firm during the 2004 presidential election and the only one to project both Bush and Kerry's vote total within half a percentage point of the actual outcome, says there is no clear GOP front-runner. When we unite behind one, there will be.

You already know the candidate who won the Values Voter Presidential Debate hands down is Gov. Mike Huckabee (order the DVD and burn a thousand copies to hand out). What you may not know is that, according to the accurate Rasmussen poll, Huckabee is only 8 points behind Hillary Clinton (48 to 40 percent) and 9 points behind Barack Obama (47 to 38 percent)!

Even Bill Clinton says he's the guy to watch. Bill Clinton told ABC's "This Week with George Stephanopoulos" Mike Huckabee is the "only dark horse that's got any kind of chance. … He's the best speaker they've got."

For everyone who is clamoring about the importance of money, keep in mind Huckabee came in second in Iowa at five cents on the dollar of what Romney spent to win. Newt Gingrich said on the same ABC program: "If Huckabee can find money, he will be dramatically competitive almost overnight." Now quit clamoring and write the guy a check.

Look, if all you care about is strong borders, less government, low taxes and a strong stand against Islamo-fascism, you had better hope the nominee is pro-life and pro-marriage – because that's the only way you're going to get not just the vote, but the heavy lifting it takes to win. Pro-lifers are known as the ones to go door to door, pound in yard signs and make the get-out-the-vote calls, and if they are not motivated, excited and mobilized (as the Democrats will be), you will not get their help or their votes – it's a package deal.

The values voters were 36 percent of President Bush's vote in the last election. The primary turnout was 7.2 percent. Rasmussen, Clinton and Gingrich all agree: Huckabee can win. This is entirely doable, but to win we must unite, and we must unite now.

While you may have pledged your support to one of the other pro-family candidates, consider this: Only one president came directly from the U.S. House – James Garfield – and that was 128 years ago. Only two people went directly from the Senate to the White House: Warren Harding (1920) and John F. Kennedy (1960). Four out of five of the last presidents were governors, and only one governor meets the life/marriage standard: Mike Huckabee.

Kim Gandy, president of the National Organization for Women, said, "Our ultimate success depends on electing a president who will sign the [FOCA] legislation and electing a Congress that can withstand any challenge or filibuster."

It's all or it's nothing: It's Huckabee or it's Hillary. The end to abortion on demand is within our grasp; so is the annihilation of every advance we have ever made. Values Voters: Are you ready to unite yet?

Distributed by www.ChristianWorldviewNetwork.com

Just Desserts

When you let your kids have too many toys,
And you don't consistently make them pick them up,
Because you just get tired of the fight,
So your house gets crowded with stuff,
That isn't in its proper place,

It should come as no surprise that,

When the baby wakes for the fourth time,
At 4:45 AM,
You could potentially heft him out of his bed,
Only to turn and step on a tack,
(and make mo more noise than a sharp gasp because everyone is sleeping)
Bleed all over the carpet,
And have to go get a tetanus shot.

Weary

I am so tired. Physically, Mentally, Emotionally and Spiritually.

I am overwhelmed by the clutter in my life. Not just the stuff, of which there is too much, but of the other stuff also. The stuff I do that I shouldn't be doing. The stuff that takes brain power. The coupons that are supposed to save me money. The foods that I want to use up just to get out of my pantry. (They are random things that I bought for recipes I wanted to try and never got around to and now I can't remember what they are.) The devotionals that fill up my inbox. The books that fill up my bookshelves that I can't seem to find the time to read. The babies that talk and talk and talk and seem to want me to listen (and I want to listen, I do, but I also need to make dinner). The spelling tests and the listening to the reading aloud and the school lunches. And sometimes I fool myself into believing that it would be easier to home school (ROFL). The crystals that I promised my kids we'd make and can't find the time to do so. The friends I should visit. And the seventy-three wake-ups a night from the boy whose only pacifier is me (heaven help me).

I once heard a sermon on "Do not become weary in doing good..." and he talked about the difference between weary and tired and I think I'm weary. I'm grateful, but I'm weary. Which is just one more thing to feel guilty about.

Lunch Ladies

I have again, thankfully, completed the worst 45 minutes of my week. Only something like 30 weeks to go. Heaven help me.

There's a reason that lunch ladies are always portrayed as mean and old. If they aren't mean, the kids walk all over them and all that walking makes them old. I think I feel a wrinkle coming on.

I don't know what it is about me, but they think that when I'm present the rules do not apply. Today I told them, very sternly, that they did in fact apply. That lasted all of about two seconds until someone interrupted my very believable speech with yet another inane comment that did NOT fit into the conversation.

I'm sure that a full half of the problem is that most of these kids are either mine or offspring of my friends and I'm simply not a scary figure to them. They plead with me to not tell Mrs. C who is quite possibly the nicest person I've ever met, but do they care what I think? NO.

I have the policemen who want to tell me all the rules and how I'm not enforcing them correctly all while breaking a rule that I know to be in place. I have the food stealers who think that because it is a joke it shouldn't be punished. I have the slow eaters that I practically have to force feed so that the cleaners can clean up. I have the fast eaters that want to rush off to recess (which I'm supposed to supervise) before half the kids even have their food out. I have the kids who think that just because they are in line first they should be the first to use the microwave. Never mind that their food requires 7 minutes of cooking and the kid behind them needs 15 seconds. (I understand lines, but can we use a little reasoning? They are often the same kids that wonder why they have to sit there and wait for the others to finish, too.) Seriously. And I haven't even touched on recess. And since I have no desire to relive it, I won't.

If my hair isn't grey by the end of the year, I'll consider myself lucky. And when it comes time to volunteer next year, I'll keep my hand down, thank you. A lunch lady I am not.

There Comes a Time

When you just have to let your baby cry it.

When Eldest was six months old, he figured out that his pacifier put him to sleep and he refused to take it anymore. I could have forced the issue, but I dropped it. Mostly that meant that he had to cry himself to sleep because he just wouldn't drop off in my arms.

Princess and Frodo were both thumb suckers and put themselves painlessly to sleep from week five or six. No tears. Spoiled mama.

Charming knows what puts him to sleep. It isn't a paci. He hates them. It isn't a thumb. He never understood what he should do with it unless it was an accident. It is nursing. And he isn't about to participate. He started this a few weeks ago, but I added the lamby and he was out like a light. Today he figured out that dangerous combo (after I bragged to my friends that I knew his weaknesses). No more. Nothin' doin'. No nurse for him, thanks.

He had to cry it tonight. When you are crying being held, on the floor, in the jumper, in the saucer, with mom, with dad, and in your bed, well, you might as well be in your bed.

Night, night baby. I'm sorry.

The Sweetest Thing

Aside from my newborn babies, I have never seen anything so sweet in all my life as my 89 year old grandmother and my 93 year old grandfather singing "You Are My Sunshine" to one another for their 70th wedding anniversary.

I tell you, they are truly, madly, deeply in love.

Man, what a legacy.

Still Not Doing Well

I'm going to have to go AWOL at least until next Monday and maybe longer.

Too much to do. Too much to say. Too much anxiety.

My apologies.

I shall hopefully return when I get home from celebrating my grandparent's 70th(!) anniversary.

Better Luck Next Time

Last week was not good. It was bad enough that I didn't want to come on and say, "I'm not okay," and freak some people out. It was certainly bad enough that I couldn't come on and pretend I was okay. Therefore I didn't come on. It was even bad enough I didn't go visit anyone's blogs either. My apologies.

But tonight I laughed until I cried. Which I haven't done in a while, so I thought I should share.

This afternoon we took the kids bowling. I don't know where they heard about bowling, but they've been nagging us to go bowling for several months and today, when no one was nagging, we went.

It was a hoot to see our squirts wield balls 1/7th of their body weight, and give up on the bowling approach and swing in order to go for the granny roll. But the ultimate in hilarity was seeing Frodo, who was too tired by the end to even granny roll the ball, haul off and give it the ole soccer kick.

People, I have never seen, nor do I ever expect to see again, a ball roll so slowly down the lane. It must have taken a full minute if not more for the ball to get down there. Funny enough, it was headed straight for the center pin. But it rolled so slowly that it triggered the lane cleaner thingie that swept down and smacked the ball (which was still moving so slowly, it hadn't gotten past the sweeper) just hard enough to roll it back up the lane to us.

Maybe you had to be there, but I tell you it was hilarious.

Yes, I won, with three strikes in a row. And then I came home and banked a dirty diaper off the wall and into the little trash can from across the room (maybe 12 feet?). I think I should be playing the lotto tonight.

Here's to a better week.

A Bit More Rational

For those of you who know what I'm talking about:

I may have been over-reacting about the crumbs. And even if I'm not, there is only one opinion that matters. I'm sure He doesn't mind that I forsook the crumbs for the baby.

See, I was listening.

And for the rest of you, sometimes going to Bible study when you are all wrought up and angry doesn't make for the prettiest of pictures.

Oh, and VAIL, nothing quite that romantic, I'm afraid. No book contracts, no new baby. As far as I know.

Timing

Ever have one of those days where you just want to yank out your hair and shriek, "Well, what were you waiting for!?"

Or, "Oh, so NOW you're ready?"

My sleep last night was not peaceful. When I did sleep, which wasn't much, I dreamed solutions which weren't very solution-y. And I've felt this near rage (though I imagine it is just frustration with a side of sleep deprivation) boiling up this morning over things that are in the past and I cannot control. I know I can't control them. I know there is nothing that can be done about the past. Better yet, I know that this is probably "God's timing." So I'm trying to damper this brick of panic that keeps settling in my chest that NOW, when I'm low on sleep, time and energy, now I gt to do what God told me to do four, yes, four years ago. Now I get the green light.

Okay, I'm really not holy and I know that and you know that, but here's a thought that just came to me. Maybe God was waiting to that in my weakness He can be strong. That this won't be my doing but His. And that maybe, just maybe something extraordinary is about to happen.

I feel the knot in my chest unraveling, just a bit.