7 (very) Quick Takes Friday

1.

I love that I have been able to plan my work schedule lately to be home on Fridays. Lauren is in preschool in the morning, the boys are in school, and David is at work. The perfect time to really get the house clean.

Which is exactly what I am doing . . . soon.

2.

It must run in the family. When my mom saw the picture in this post about me and my sunglasses, she burst out laughing and said that she had once done the exact same thing.

In case a quick trip to the DMV wasn't evidence enough, I'm leaning even more strongly toward belief in an "idiot gene" now.

3.

Sometimes it sucks to live an hour away from everything. Like the dry cleaners. I drove an hour to drop off the clothes on Monday, but now I have to figure out when to pick them up. Tomorrow night David and I are going on a double date to the town wherein lie my clothes, but the cleaners closes at 2pm on Saturdays.

Foiled again!

4.

I'm always a little befuddled on my drive over there, too.

Apparently, people in small, northern towns must be reminded to park. So much so that the word "park" is included in the name of just about everything.

Eat-n-Park
Park & Shop
Park & Go

I, in my apparent naivety, have always assumed that the "parking" part was a given, but I guess not.

I particularly like the "Park & Go" in case anyone was confused about whether he was supposed to stay at the convenience store forever. The name doesn't mention shopping or getting gas, though, so imagine how many people must pull in, park, and then go. Just for lack of instruction.

5.

I am looking forward to tomorrow's sunny 72 degrees. I just wish it were not going to be 49 in the morning because morning is when we have our soccer games.

The field where my kids play soccer is in a little valley between several mountains. The surroundings are breathtakingly beautiful, but seriously cold. It's always 10-12 degrees colder at soccer than in my back yard.

Which means no fun tomorrow morning, and it's only gonna go downhill from here. I totally get why soccer ends in mid-October here.

This whine brought to you by the letter "W."

6.

I have ipod envy.

We bought Josh a (used) ipod for his birthday. (Don't tell . . . it's not till October!) It's a 5th Generation.

I've had mine for about four years, so while I don't know what "generation" it is, I do know that in ipod-world, it's ancient. I set Josh's up last night and loaded it with songs, and his is sooo way cooler than mine.

So, just give him the older one and keep the newer one for myself, right?

That's exactly what I would do if mine wasn't hot pink. Yeah, I'm a sucker for pink myself, but I don't think my 8 year-old son would be thrilled about a hot pink ipod.

Right?

7.

Okay, cleaning . . . now.

But if YOU need a diversion from doing what you should be, head over to Conversion Diary and check out more Quick Takes.

Let's Just Be Real, Shall We?

I hate reading blogs by people who act like they've got it all together. Especially mommy blogs.

And I say "act like" because I just know it's an act. I choose to believe - I have to believe - that it's not truly possible to be a mom and have it all together. It's like a law of physics; the child to brain cell ratio is limited.

So, let me just go ahead and put it out there in case you have never met me haven't realized it yet: I do not have it all together.

There I said it. I often forget little things like going to the post office, making sure we have bread, picking my child up from preschool.

Yes, I did. Totally forgot.

That's why God created children to have two parents, right? One of us is bound to remember. Thank God today it was David.

I was in a meeting with a new client and totally lost track of time, so much so that when David knocked on my office door, poked his head in, and said cryptically, "Do you need me to take care of transport today?" I had NO idea what he was talking about. I thus forced him to resort to the less confidence-in-your-new-lawyer-inspiring, "Did you forget about picking your child up from school?"

Yikes.

All's well that ends well, I guess, and Lauren was picked up by her daddy right on time none-the-wiser.

And I went about my clueless day still not quite having it all together.

As evidenced by the fact that I left my office at lunchtime, put my sunglasses on my face, and walked to my car . . . like this:



It wasn't until I had driven around the corner and glanced in the mirror that I saw the above image reflected back at me. I will admit I burst out laughing at myself and can't believe none of the several people I walked past on the way to my car had not done so as well.

So there you have it.

My name is Becky, and I sometimes forget to pick up my daughter and don't realize that my sunglasses are missing a lens.

Like you're perfect.

Monday Weigh-In

Pounds down: 2.0

Not bad considering I just started Thursday, right? Ugh.

Miraculous Love

Last night I heard a speaker talking about today's church. He made a valid point about the church today not walking in the full power that is available to us in Christ through the Holy Spirit. He talked about how our children see "power" in the world when they are bombarded with images of wizardry, witchcraft, and other supernatural powers on television or in books and movies, but that too often they don't witness the power God.

It is a shame, he said, for our children to be exposed only to the powers of darkness and not the power of Light.

I agree with him.

To a point.

I agree that it is important for our children to understand the power of God and to see that power manifest in tangible ways.

However, I think many of us are blind to the fact that we do encounter the miraculous on a regular basis.

Once I did not believe. Now I do.
Once I despaired and lost my hope. My Hope did not lose me.
Once I was broken-hearted. Now I have the joy of the Lord.
Once I was wronged. I forgave, because when I was wrong, I was forgiven.

Who's to say that it's a greater miracle for a lame man to walk than for a wounded heart to be healed?

God did not say, "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you lay hands on someone and her cure her cancer." As awesome as that may be, what He did say was this:

"By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." (John 13:35)

Make no mistake about the power of God that is at work in our hearts in ways we cannot see every time the love of God flows through us. It may not be as fancy and exciting as a blind eye seeing, but it is every bit as powerful.

Probably more.

'Tis But a Moment

I saw them sitting in Subway yesterday.

I had stopped in to pick up a sandwich for lunch, and when I saw them it was such a jolt that my heart nearly skipped a beat.

I don't know their names, but I do know what I saw: a glimpse of my yesterday.

Sitting at a table by the window was a young mom with three children: two tow-headed toddler boys, looking about 2 and 3 years old, and a baby girl in an infant seat on the table.

It was like seeing a snapshot of my life four years ago. Has it really been that long?

I used to be the mom who everyone smiled at with looks that were half-admiration and half-pity. "You sure have your hands full," I used to hear almost as often as I heard the theme song to "Go, Diego, Go!" With an infant, a one year-old, and a three year-old, there was never much chance of slipping under the radar when we went somewhere.

Now, my kids can order their own Subway sandwiches. They still fight about who sits where and who got more soda, but they know how to behave in a restaurant. I don't have to worry about what they're putting in their mouths or whether they're going to fall out of their chairs. (Of course they are.)

I'm not sure when I went from being a frazzled, inexperienced, young mom to being a frazzled, seasoned, not-as-young (can't say old) mom of older kids. No babies. No toddlers. Only one preschooler left.

A common conversation in our house goes something like this:

Child: Mom, I'm gonna miss the bus.
Me: Alright, hurry up and get out of here, but remember . . . do NOT grow while you are gone, okay?!

I admonish them not to grow while they are brushing their teeth or playing the wii or eating dinner. Thankfully, they still find this amusing, love when I threaten to punish them for growing. I am not unaware of the fact that soon they will roll their eyes and grimace at such childish notions.

I know that time moves relentlessly, and all the wishing in the world won't stop it. I know that just a moment ago I was that mom in Subway with the three tiny children who thought that I would never spend a day (heck, an hour!) alone again. I was she; and now I'm not.

Today I am a mom of three still relatively young children who can read and write and add but who still love climbing in my bed for a cuddle in the morning (or all hours of the night), having me on their team when we play a game, and being read to while snuggled on the sofa. I am a mom whose children still fight to sit next to her and light up over surprise one-on-one time with her.

Today I am that mom; tomorrow I will not be. The moment it happens will be indiscernible, but one day I will look at a mom with children who are 4, 6, and 7, and I will remember these days with a too-tight feeling in my chest and a longing to get today back.

Lord, help me to cherish where I am today. Help me to love my children at exactly the stage they're in because all too soon, it will be gone. Help me to remember that each day that passes with them is one that I will never get back again. Remind me that these children will never again be exactly the age they are today, and I help me to treasure it so that I don't look back and wonder when I lost it.

Thank you for these precious hearts of mine.

123

That's how much I weighed when we moved to PA last May.

I won't tell you how much I weigh now, but suffice it to say it's more. Much more. In fact I weigh more than I have ever weighed in my entire life other than when I was carrying around another human being inside. I won't tell you how much I weighed then either, but let's just say I was very disappointed when Joshua came out weighing 8lb 8 oz instead of 35 or 40 lbs. That left a LOT of weight that was apparently less "baby" and more "ice cream" and "double-decker taco supreme."

But I lost it all. I weighed less when I got pregnant with Ethan and even less when I got pregnant with Lauren. And I lost the weight quicker after each child. (I'm pretty sure that's inevitable when you have three kids in three years. As I've mentioned before, that requires you to give up a few things . . . like eating and sitting.)

So, why am I writing about this? Because I need motivation to make my clothes fit again. Not my current clothes, but my entire wardrobe from two sizes ago that is currently taking up space on the third floor just waiting to become Lauren's dress-up clothes if I don't fix this.

I know, I know, you've heard this before. Remember I was going to teach kickboxing? And I was going to get in shape before Christmas? And Spring? And Summer?

None of those plans seems to have accomplished much, so I've decided to use this blog for accountability. (I tried having accountability with my mom several months ago, but that was so not enough pressure. Really. She's my mom.)

What's that? You come to my blog for witty stories and meaningful spiritual insights? Or at least pictures?

Sorry. It's my blog, and I'll weigh if I want to.

So, every Monday I am going to report back here with . . . how many pounds I've gone down. (You didn't actually think I was gong to say my weight did you? I tell you what, when I get back to 125, I'll let you know. It will be much less embarrassing after the fact.)

So, starting today, September 8th, pounds down: 0

(Feel free to join me in this weight-loss quest and let me know how you're doing as well. Unless you're already a size 2, and then I'll just have to shoot you.)

All About Lauren

Today was Lauren's first day of school. Since the day I began inquiring about preschools last summer, I have been hearing about Ms. B. Everyone whose child has ever been in Mrs. B's class talks about her as if she is the goddess of preschool teachers.

Now I know why.

At Open House last week, Mrs. B had all of the kids bring a teddy bear to keep in the classroom for the year. This morning, they were to find their teddy bear and that was their seat in the reading circle.



Mrs. B has a different theme for each month during the school year, and the theme for this month is "Sailing Into September." She personalized a sailor hat for each child and officially pronounced them sailors this morning.




Sailor Lauren (Mrs. B also took pictures of each child to go in the preschool photo album each child's parents will receive at the end of the school year.)



Lauren with Mrs. B (who usually dresses like a normal person but will wear anything for the sake of a fun lesson):



Lauren and her BFF Tori.



One end of the room decorated for this month's Sailor theme.



The other end of the room where the kids have reading and circle time.



I can guess which activity center will quickly be deemed Lauren's favorite:



Another activity center:



Yet another (notice the huge scuba diver on the wall . . . and this is just for this month's theme!):



And another:



The group table where all of the crayons, pencils, etc. are stored in a pirate ship for September:



I cannot tell you how excited Lauren was to start school today. She begged me all day yesterday to let her go ahead and start, apparently not believing me that there would be no one there since school did not start until Wednesday.

I am so thankful for how God has provided for our every need here in PA, not just in a way that is sufficient, but in a way that is perfect and abundant.

In other Lauren news, she is still LOVING soccer:



I love how this picture perfectly captures the essence of Lauren: active, sport-playing, dirt-loving . . . but always wearing a sparkly shirt and a skirt while doing so. She's definitely the only kid on the soccer field wearing a skirt every practice.

There's something a little fishy

It's our living room! Meet our newest creatures, who shall, for now, remain nameless. Mostly because they, um, don't have any names.

Speaka ze English?

There's been a lot of talk lately about immigrants needing to learn English. I don't really understand all the hubbub myself. When I'm in a foreign country I find it helpful to have my English-speaking-only self accommodated with a few signs and instructions in my language. So, I don't really mind being instructed to "pulse dos para espanol" when I make a phone call.

In fact, lately I've had a couple of encounters that have confirmed my long-held suspicion that it is not foreigners or immigrants who need help with the English language. It's salespeople and other customer service employees. I think we need a special button for them to press because I do not think we are speaking the same language.

I submit as evidence thereof the following two "conversations:"

Saturday, August 21, 2010 in the hair salon at Walmart:

Sales Girl: Can I help you?
Me: Yes, I'm looking for shampoo without sulfates.
SG: Without what?
Me: Sulfates. I had this crazy expensive keratin protein treatment put on my hair and was told to use only sulfate-free shampoo.
SG: Oh, well, let's see.

We peruse the shelves before finally finding one on the last set of shelves in the salon.

Me: Oh good, it's buy one get one half-off.
SG: No, it's not.
Me: But there's a sign on the shelf that says, "All Pure Results products, Buy One Get One 50% off"
SG: That's only for the products.
Me: Right, the Pure Results products. That's what this is.
SG: No, shampoo is not a product.
Me: Huh?
SG: It doesn't apply to the shampoo and conditioner.
Me: But it's hanging on the shelf that contains nothing but shampoo and conditioner. And they are both Pure Results.
SG: We can put the sign on any shelf we want. Shampoo and conditioner are not products.
Me: Do you know what "product" means?
SG: Product means things like gel and mousse and such.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010 in the Atlanta Airport:

Scene: waiting for the train that carries passengers between terminals and the baggage claim area. Said train normally arrives every 90 seconds, and there is a little digital countdown clock that says how long until the next train. On this particular day, the clock keeps going higher (longer wait) every time it gets under 2 minutes. After standing and watching the countdown clock go up and down for about 4 or 5 minutes, I decide to ask the "attendant" sitting at a little attendant stand nearby if he knew what was going on.

Me: Are the trains not running?
Airport guy: The trains are running.
Me: Do you know how long until the next train gets here because the clock keeps changing?
AG: It'll be here soon.
Me: Don't they normally come every couple of minutes?
AG: It comes every 90 seconds.
Me: But, it's been about five minutes. Do you know what's wrong?
AG: Nothing's wrong with the trains.
Me: Well, do you have any idea when a train might actually come?
AG: The train comes every 90 seconds.

So, I am considering launching some sort of initiative for salesperson language training. Or at least a button I can press when I speak to them so that we are both using the same language.

Maybe "Press two for idiot?"

Good Things

I love these kids. Sometimes I look at them, especially the three on the end, and my heart is so full it could burst.

This is it, I think to myself. This is what life is all about. Could there be anything better?

The answer to that is yes. There is something much better. Someone at least.

I find that I'm often satisfied with the things this life has to offer. Friends, family, food, laughter, beaches, campfires, sunsets, music, love. There are so many good things in this life I'm living that it's sometimes easy to be satisfied with the earthly version of God's good gifts.

I'm reminded of taking my boys to play games at the arcade when they were preschoolers. I didn't even have to put quarters in because they were content to steer and maneuver while the game was in demo mode. The glaring, all-caps "Please Insert Token" didn't diminish their enjoyment in the slightest.

They were completely satisfied with a fake game, never even knowing that there was a "real" version.

God has filled the world with His goodness, surrounded us with glimpses of Himself. When I stop and think about it, most everything good in life can be seen sort of as a "fake" version of the "real" good thing - the ONLY good thing - God.

We build friendships and learn that there is a Friend who sticks closer than a brother.

We fall in love and get married and realize we have a Bridegroom who loves us with an everlasting love.

We become parents and know the depth of a Father's love more fully than ever.

We create and get a glimpse of a Creator's heart.

What the Holy Spirit has been prompting me to remember lately is that the things God has given us, the oh-so-good things with which He has surrounded us, were never meant to satisfy. They were meant to make me hunger for the Giver of all good things.

"For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse." (Romans 1:20-21)

May I never be satisfied with the gifts but treasure them as merciful glimpses of a good and gracious Giver.

Morning Checklist

1. Daughter up all night with a sore throat I hope is not strep . . . check
2. Dining room table full of breakfast dishes I don’t have time to clean up . . . check
3. Front porch (carpeted) full of nasty smelling water and dead crayfish my son knocked over this morning . . . and which I do not have time to clean up . . . check
4. Purse full of giant plastic motorcycles and horses keeping me from being able to find my freakin’ keys . . . check
5. Headache . . . double check

Seeking Shadow

Yes, I'm writing about the dog again.

Shadow seems to really love our home. Nevertheless, he has run away approximately six times now.

Last week was one of those occasions. I was in the backyard (cleaning up dog poop, what else?) when one of the kids opened the back door, and Shadow bolted out like greased lightning.

Knowing I had no chance of simply catching him, I went in the house and gathered my supplies: a leash to lead him home, a hot dog to lure him, and a knife to cut the hot dog into toss-able pieces. I grabbed the first sharp knife I saw, which was a Cutco steak knife.

So, there I was walking around the neighborhood with a leash, a hot dog, and a steak knife . . . but no dog. After ten minutes without a sign of him, I loaded the kids and the supplies into the van so we could drive around and look for him. Half an hour later, we sadly returned home having seen neither hide nor hair of Shadow.

Naturally, as we pulled up to the house, Shadow came bounding around the corner onto our street and happily returned inside the house. The kids were ecstatic.

Later that afternoon, Josh was trying to find the leash to take the dog back out. I told him I had probably left it in the van.

He came in with the leash and a very concerned look on his face and asked, "Mom, why do you have a steak knife in the van?"

"Oh, I forgot about it. I took it in case I needed to cut up hot dog pieces to lure Shadow to me."

Relief literally washed over the face of my son, who like Eeyore, who has the ability to anticipate the worst-possible outcome to every scenario.

"Whew! I thought it was because if you found Shadow hurt, you might have to kill him."

Yes, son, I was going to put the dog out of his misery . . . with a six-inch steak knife.

Happy Anniversary, my love

This is a poem David wrote for me while we were dating. Just one of the many reasons I fell in love with him. Happy anniversary, my love. Now you're a published poet.

Take Five

My life in five quick takes:

1.
For those of you who have asked, Ethan is doing very well. He feels just fine and seems to be suffering no ill effects from the accident. I told a friend tonight that I'm amazed at how active he can be without riding a bike, running, jumping, or climbing trees. He spends a lot of time in the creek catching crawdads.

2.
The kids set up a stand on the sidewalk last week to sell their crawdads. They made signs that said, "Crayfish: 2 for 25 cents." When they informed me of this plan, I told them not to get their hopes up because no one was going to buy their crayfish.

Boy was I wrong. They sold 8 of them. They also added lemonade to their inventory and managed to make almost $25. (This was split between my kids and the neighbors who were also involved in this joint venture.)

3.
I would LOVE to show you pictures of said crayfish/lemonade stand, but I am having a problem with my SD card. For some reason, my computer cannot find any data on it even though when it's in my camera, the pictures appear just fine.

I am about as literate in computers as I am in Swahili, so the information I'm finding on my google searches is less than helpful. Something about drivers, but I don't think they are referring to cars or golf clubs.

4.
I am officially retiring from my 13 month volleyball career tonight. For the sake of myself and my fellow players, I am done. This has mostly to do with the fact that I'm pretty irrelevant to most of the plays, but my swansong happened to coincide with jamming or breaking or stoving my left index finger.

Are you familiar with the term stove as a verb? Meaning sprain? Me either.

Someone wrote this to me in a text a few months ago ("I stoved my wrist"), and I figured it was a typo. Then tonight David kept saying I stoved my finger. Huh?

5.
Have I mentioned that I'm in physical therapy for my back? It's been getting worse and worse for the past few months, and now that I'm in physical therapy, it's getting even worse.

Yay.

Since my first appointment, my PT has diagnosed me with a rotated vertebra, a degenerative disc, and a hypermobile sacro-iliac joint. All at different appointments.

I'm not sure if she keeps finding new things or if she was just wrong on all the first counts. Oh well, at least she's helping my pain get worse, so I'm getting something for my money, right?

Catch Up

I've sat down to play catch up on my blog about five times in the past week, but I never quite make it all the way to there. I'm not sure how much of it is being too busy to write and how much is just not really having much to say. (I know, very un-Beck-like.)

Speaking of un-Beck-like, last night I was lying in bed talking to David, and I kept being unable to retrieve from my brain the words I needed. We were talking about Trinitarianism and baptism (no, this is not normal fare for our late night conversing). I had a thought in my head, but I kept mangling it as I tried to put it into words. Fortunately, David is smart enough that he only needs minor prompts and can figure the rest out himself, so he put into words exactly what I was trying to say. (See why I married him?)

I then started to tell him something else, but it just seemed like too much trouble.

I said, "That's it; I've run out of words for today."

He was shocked and, I dare say, a little pleased.

With any luck, a little sleep should have refueled my word-tank, so let me tell you about the biggest change in our household in the past few weeks.

W got a dog.

Yes, you read that right. If you've been reading my blog for a long time, you may remember the Hearsay fiasco. Suffice it to say, our last attempt at becoming dog-owners proved short-lived.

But since I'm a slow learner, I thought we'd try it again.

The new dog's name is Shadow, but I'm thinking we should have named him Greased Lightning. He's fast.

He sees a crack in the baby gate blocking the stairs, and he bolts like lightning. He sees a sock lying unprotected in a corner, and he's as hard to catch as a greased pig. Heaven help you if you drop a stuffed animal or a pair of underwear from the laundry basket.

I assume he needs to chew simply because he's a puppy. I choose to believe this because it means a.) he will grow out of it someday and b.) he will grow out of it someday. He will grow out of it someday, right?

How sad is it that I found myself trying to outwit him this morning. He had chewed up all of his rawhides and was completely uninterested in his rope toy, so when I was at the grocery store I picked up a couple more rawhides and a new rubber toy.

But I'm no fool.

I know he has no interest in toys that he's allowed to have, toys made for dogs. He wants Lauren's baby dolls and Josh's G.I. Joes and my curtains. So, instead of giving him the new rubber toy, I nonchalantly knocked it off the counter, and then when he started to pick it up, I took it from him and acted like he wasn't supposed to have it.

I know, I know, this will probably undermine efforts to train him, but I was desperate. I really needed to unload my dishwasher.

So, after I took it from him a few times I threw it into the living room, and he darted after it and chewed on it for more than ten minutes.

My name is Becky, and I am smarter than a dog.