Since I'm moving, I may as well move

Time to simplify life a little and get out of this blogger account that is tied to an email address I never use anymore. New blogs will be posted here.

Consider yourself invited to pop in on me at my new online home anytime!

Sometimes God gives you a sign. And sometimes, that sign is neon green. Also, green means GO.

We're moving. Sometime between now and a year from now, my husband and I will pack up all our belongings and move to a place I always said I wouldn't want to live. My hair will be frizzy and I'm sure my allergies won't be any better but this is what God is telling us to do.

Rob said a few months ago something along the lines of "we're moving to Atlanta to start a new church, think about/pray about if you would like to join us". And I said "okay" because there's no harm in considering a possibility, right? And I prayed about it and thought about it and slowly my days and thoughts evolved into a position in which this move resonated with my core. I told God years ago that I would go wherever He wanted me to go and I would do whatever He wanted me to do. I really meant it. Until now, He hadn't drawn my heart towards anything.

Gradually, I began trying to warm Tim up to the idea. He thought he wanted to move to L.A. So I just told him to at least keep his mind and his heart open and pray about it. He said he would. Slowly, little signs came to us that tugged on our hearts together, telling us both that this was what we should do. Tim got a new phone and installed the GPS. It said his default location was Atlanta. Little things like that kept coming up, still he balked. I said, "have you prayed about it?" He said, "Yes." I said, "what does God say to your heart?" He said, "Move." I resisted the temptation to give him a V-8 slap on the head. I figure I'll just let God give him a metaphorical slap.

This is the part of my blog where you start to think I'm crazy. You have been warned. Oh, who am I kidding? If you've known me for any length of time, you already think I'm crazy. But in a nice way. I hope. Anyways...

I have a gift. My grandmother had this gift, she had visions of the future. She was spot on. I have this same gift. I see things in my dreams. I'm not saying I'm psychic but I think that God speaks to me through what I remember from my dreams. I've seen trivial things like who wins a reality TV show. I've seen important things, like an old friend's wife almost dying. I have not yet managed to see things like lottery numbers. (I wish!) One night, I saw the kitchen of Rob & Christina's new house in Georgia. I was sitting in the kitchen with Christina, discussing the repulsiveness of gelatin. But we were there. We weren't visiting. I woke up and I knew - I just KNEW. I told Tim we were moving, and I told him why. He's been through enough, "I had a weird dream about _____ last night" and then it coming true, he knows better than to doubt me.

As we plan our move, we have a few ducks to get in a row. One of them is what to do with my car. Right now it just sits, nobody drives it. It gets excellent mpg but it's too small to be a family car. So it just sits. I need to sell it. I am having a hard time with selling it. That car, "The Olive", is the very first car I have ever bought on my own. It is symbolic of my independence. It's the last piece of what was just mine before we became "we". Also, I don't know where the title is. It's in a box somewhere in storage, as yet unpacked from when we moved here a year ago. I really need to sell it. I really don't want to. I'm not trying to sell it. It has to go. See my inner turmoil here? So I prayed, "God, please show me what to do with my car because my will isn't to let it go."

And then yesterday, we arrived home from dinner to this on our front door:

You can't tell from the craptastic cell phone photo, but it's on a neon green post it note.

As you can probably imagine, I was stunned.

God speaks to people every day. He might be that gentle prodding in your heart to call an old friend or He might give you a peek into your future in a dream. He might not use a burning bush, but He will find a way to get your attention. Sometimes, he leaves you a little Post-It note.

I was out shopping this afternoon, when I came across this. Logically, it makes no sense to buy more knick-knacks when you're preparing to move but the sentiment meant too much to me. I couldn't leave it in the store. So for now it's on my living room wall, dispensing valuable advice.


Like I said, green means GO.

Crabby Tuesday!

I suppose it's emotionally healthy to get all the stuff that bugs you out of your system...so here's my list for the week:

1) The price of gasoline as compared to the record setting profits the oil companies post. Seriously, is there nothing we can do about the racketeering involved here?

2) Bear hair. Let me explain. Bella's (our yellow lab) full name is Isabella. Isabella Heather, if you want to be specific. Tim's mom loves the name Heather, I'm not the biggest fan of it. As a preemptive strike, I used the name for our dog so we just couldn't use it for a baby. Heh heh heh. I's sneaky. Anyway, as Bella has grown up, the texture of her fur has changed everywhere, except her ears. On her ears, her fur is still soft and silky like her puppy fur and she feels like a teddy bear. So over the years, Bella became "Bella Bear" and now usually just "Bear". It is Bear shedding season. I have dog hair on my dog hair here - it's insane. I can't vacuum or dust enough to keep up with it. It's just everywhere! Argh! Darn Bear Hair!

3) Stupid Comcast. We have lived here for a year now, and over the course of that year I think Comcast has had to be out here in excess of a dozen times. Our cable goes out, or the sound goes out or our internet goes out (which means the phone goes out too...) this service is just totally worthless. I am praying that when we move Comcast won't be the provider of fine televised entertainment. I know we could switch to AT&T or Wow, but I had DSL at my old house & hated it and Wow's broadband speeds aren't as fast as Comcast's, which is important to have when Tim works from home. I had a Comcast guy out here again this morning, he was late, he tracked mud in the house, and he didn't fix it. He said he needed a "Level 3 technician" to come at another time. I'm about ready to have a Level 3 Conniption Fit over this. We're not building a better atom, people! It's just TV! *insert swear word of your own choosing here*

4) Slow builders. I was promised a new Whole Foods 2 miles away from this house when we looked at it before we moved in a year ago. WHERE IS IT???? Granted, it is finally a structure with signage but as long as I have to drive to Wheaton to go grocery shopping, I am not a happy camper.

Thank goodness Trader Joe's has a minuscule selection of organics. I picked up a 6 oz. pack of organic blackberries there today and they are fantastic. How many of these is a serving? *nosh* Who cares, they're delicious. Tim would love these. *nosh* Does anyone know how many carbs are in 6 oz. of blackberries? *nosh* I wish these came seedless like that watermelon I bought. *nosh* Oh, I am seriously not going to eat this entire package of berries, am I? *nosh* Yes, yes I am. At least it's only fruit.

Lust Friday!

I like stuff. I like new stuff, I like good stuff, I like stuff that doesn't do things that my current stuff does. Here's my list of stuff that I am pondering procurement of this week:

1) The Topsy Turvy Hanging Tomato Basket. How amazing does this look? No more rotten tomatoes on the ground? Score! No more tomato baskets, stakes or tying? Sounds awesome! I am thisclose to ordering an "as seen on TV" thing. The last time I did this, (the Debbie Meyer Green Bags), I was so pleasantly surprised. Must. Control. Mouse. Finger. It doesn't help that I have my Visa number memorized, including the CVV number on the back. Does. Not. Help!

2) That $10 PedEgg thing. It's basically the best part of the pedicure, for $10. I saw it at Blood Bath and Beyond this week, and it's on the marquee outside my Walgreens. Plus, I have to go to The Wall to pick up my free 8 x 10 Mother's Day photo print. I'm pretty sure I'll be coming home with a picture and a PedEgg.

3) 98 cents/gallon gas to come back. Hey, a girl can dream right? I have seen $4/gallon gas in my community and it's sobering. In the meantime, at least I have GasBuddy to guide me to the best gas prices in the area.

What's that you say? It's LOVE THURSDAY? Yippee!

It's been too long since I've done a Love Thursday post. Too, too long!

So, here's what I'm loving this week:

1) My pink hair. It's super fun. I'm so thrilled to be out of corporate America so I can finally do fun, funky things to my hair. Sometimes I forget I have pink hair and I find someone looking at me kind of funny and I think I must have something on my face. Nope! I have pink hair!

2) My cute husband. We dined out last night because we had too many errands to run after our Chiropractor appointments that I honestly didn't have time to also prepare a meal and clean up afterwards before bed time. So we were deciding where to go & I suggested Sweet Tomatoes, which just opened by us. And he said he didn't care for tomatoes that much. He thought all they had was food made out of tomatoes. Tomato pie, tomato kabobs, fried tomatoes, stewed tomatoes, tomato sandwiches...you get the picture. I laughed, promised him that there was more than tomatoes there and dragged him in. How can someone so brilliant be so silly? He cracks me up!

3) Gardening. I'm doing some container gardening on my back deck with some veggies in pots - and I have a strawberry pot too. Yum! On the front porch, I've got some moss baskets that I put together with impatiens, salvia, daisies and petunias. It looks so festive! My spring tulips are fading so it's almost time to put some annuals in the flowerbeds out front. Playing in the dirt is totally relaxing.

4) Drying clothes with the Power of Nature. I've been hanging stuff out to dry as often as possible - I asked for an actual clothesline for Mother's Day (and a new mandoline, a microplane box grater and a new salt pig) so I don't have to use drying racks. Jackson's last load of diapers was dried outside, and now all his diaper laundry is perfumed with fresh air, sunshine and the sweet lilacs blooming on the side of the house. Ah, perfection!

I think I'm going to bring Love Thursday back as a regular weekly installation. And I'm adding Lust Friday, when I list the stuff I'd love to have (on the list this week, that Ped Egg thing for sandal smooth heels). Maybe we'll add Crabby Tuesdays too, so I can vent about the stuff that drives me nuts! Like people who can't drive and talk at the same time, or people who use the express lane with clearly more than 10 items in their cart. :)

a boy and his dog

He's so precious I could eat him up. Here's Moose with his stuffed yellow lab (he calls it his "Ella" because he can't pronounce the "B" in Bella's name) that I bought him when I was 9 weeks pregnant...

Sometimes I wonder, whatchu goin to be - a doctor, a general, maybe an MC...

I love being a stay at home mom. I love spending all day with Jackson, and getting to know him. He is the most amazing person. He's grown into this charismatic, charming little guy. He knows just how to greet you with a darling "Hi!" that melts your heart. And it doesn't matter what he's doing at the time, it could be the most naughty and mischievous thing. But he pours on the charm, and with his coy little smile you completely forget about reprimanding him and just want to hug him.

I'll bet Bill Clinton was like that as a child.

All this makes me wonder who Jackson will grow up to be. We purposefully gave him a very strong, BAMFy name. Jackson Powers. The only name stronger is Shaft. Even at his baby dedication, our pastor held him and said, "He's going to be somebody important, I can feel it."

So who will he be when he grows up? I have no idea. But I think he's on the right track towards becoming a very handsome, sweet, kind, genuinely charming man.

Anything but a politician. That's all I ask.

Hi, my name is Felicia and I'm addicted to

dying my hair funky colors. The purple was fading to a blue-gray (think the nice old lady down the block blue-gray) so it was time to do something. So something was done. Fun pinky-red bangs ensued:



I kind of love it. :)

That John Mayer, he may be on to something...

"Take all of your wasted honor
Every little past frustration
Take all of your so-called problems,
Better put ‘em in quotations"

So says John Mayer's song, "Say", which I am totally downloading onto my mp3 player later today. At different moments in time, there have been songs in the background that mark those moments as aural memories. "Say" is one of them, and yesterday I got to say what I needed to say.

You probably remember last Easter, when I made a decision in church and blogged about it. I decided to try, as best I could, to extend my mother the same grace and forgiveness that God gives us. This hasn't been easy, my friends! In the back of my head, I always thought that there would come a day, that despite my forgiving her (without her asking), that I would need to confront her about all the things that had fed my bitterness against her for so many years. There would be a day of reckoning, I told myself.

"Walking like a one man army
Fighting with the shadows in your head
Living out the same old moment
Knowing you'd be better off instead
If you could only
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say"

And slowly as days melted into months, my desire for a full-on confrontation waned. I decided that she didn't have to answer to me, she had to answer to God. Answering to me was petty compared to that.

And then Yesterday happened. It started like a hundred normal days before it, I went grocery shopping and was on my way home when she called. The conversation evolved and before I knew it, we had reached a point where I could say it - say it all. And she invited me to do so. In a completely non-confrontational manner, the floodgates were opened and there was no turning back.

"Have no fear for giving in
Have no fear for giving over
You better know that in the end
Its better to say too much
Than never to say what you need to say again"

I would say "it was on like Donkey Kong", mostly because that phrase cracks me up - but honestly, it wasn't like that. It was just me, saying how I felt and it was just her, listening. I think that I owed it to myself to say it, and she owed it to me to listen. In the end, she admitted that everything I said was true, and in between sobs, asked me to forgive her. I said I've been working on it.

My heart feels a million times lighter this morning. Saying what I needed to say was healing and validating.

I can't believe that I'm the only one who has carried a heavy heart over many years without ever having the purifying soul purging necessary to clear the air and settle things. If you suffer from this too, I hope some day you also have a Divinely provided moment to gently but firmly, say what you need to say. And if you don't or can't, I welcome you to say what you need to say here - lay your burden down, once and for all.

"Even if your hands are shaking
And your faith is broken
Even as the eyes are closing
Do it with a heart wide open

Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say"

My rock of love

Went to BDubs for dinner tonight - Tim decided to apply the Kiddie Menu temporary tattoos to his neck, a la Daisy. (He's a dork, but he's my dork and I love him).

We're casual dating whores

Our contract with our wireless provider has expired. Oddly enough, recently both of our phones died untimely deaths. Could it be that the lifespan of equipment is built so the equipment expires just in time for you to renew your vows to your wireless company?

Luckily for us, we have the insurance on our phones. We're both PDA people. I'm a Treo girl and Tim wields a Pocket PC. Our phones would cost us $600 a piece to replace out of pocket without a new contract discount. We thought the insurance would be a smart move. :)

So we called and asked for help with our phones-turned-bricks and lo and behold, our phones aren't made anymore! We are obsolete, technology has passed us by. The only replacement available to us was...a free upgrade. Woe is me. Ha ha!

So now we eagerly await receipt of our new phones (a 755P for me and Mogul/6800 for Tim) and don't really know what to do about our contract. It seems that for the time being, we can enjoy our really great contract pricing that has gone up since 2 years ago on a month to month basis with brand new phones. We don't have to get married to a wireless company, we can kind of casually date around and go from store to store just to see what's out there. If we find something that seems like a BBD (bigger, better deal) than what we have now, we can walk away from...oh, I won't want to name names so we'll just call our wireless carrier Berizon. If we see something that looks better, we can drop Berizon like a hot potato. It's like being a free agent, or being single again.

So, other wireless carriers, it's time to sex it up a bit and seduce me with an offer I can't refuse. Something along the lines of 1500 minutes family plan for $70 sounds good. Throw in a reasonably priced data plan at lightening fast broadband speeds and I'm ready to enter into a long term relationship with you.

But only for 2 years.

Why buy the cow and pay $7 a gallon for the milk when you can get it at White Hen for $2.49?

We are now the proud shareholders in an Amish dairy herd in Middlebury, IN. Our shareholdership entitles us to buy fresh raw milk for our family. We couldn't be more excited!

Raw milk is SO much better for you than pasteurized milk. We made the switch last week and everybody in the house loves the new milk, Moose included.

Since it's Amish milk, it's organic but not certified because the farmers don't have the financial investment required to be certified. But these are people who sow their fields with those horse-drawn tiller things. They're not using chemicals on their land. The dairy cows roam free, grazing on fresh pasture each day.

Since dairy farming is not very profitable, we're supporting our farm with a fair price for the extra work required to keep the cows healthy and the farm clean to support safe raw milk. In turn, we get the extra nutrients in superior milk. It's a win/win situation for all!

She bangs, she bangs...

I got a quick little haircut while on vacation. All I needed was a little trim to keep everything looking fresh, I wasn't changing my style. Or so I thought...

When she got to my bangs, the stylist asked me if I'm growing them out or if I wanted them trimmed. Ah, the eternal question that has never been answered. I grow them out, hate them, cut them back, grow them out...the cycle perpetuates on forever. I said, I didn't know and asked what the "in" thing was with bangs? Are people wearing bangs? Are they going for a less bangy look? She said the in thing was long, sweepy bangs. I said, "I can rock long sweepy bangs. Do it." Ha ha. How cocky am I? *laughs at self*

It seems I actually CAN rock long sweepy bangs and furthermore, I rather like them. So then I decided to upgrade them by making them...purple. Well, according to the jar it's "Ultra-Violet" and to me it looks like it should be called "Marge Simpson".

Behold, the Margification of my new long sweepy bangs:




Me, trying to look fierce because I feel tough with my new punk rock hair. Remind me to start saving up for Botox if I insist on taking pictures using this facial expression, though.



The overall effect of new cut and new bangs with fun swipe of new color:


And no, I could not resist the temptation to go all matchy-matchy with my eyeliner today. I'll try again tomorrow but my everyday color is a shade of pruney plum anyways...today is Styli-Style Line & Seal in Tanzanite and it's nearly an exact match with the hair! So fun!

I'm just dying for someone to walk up to me and say, "Dude, you have purple hair!" I will give them my best ORLY? face.

The Army has a flat tire

Now that I'm home, I can blog about vacation goings-on. And I'll probably do this in reverse chronological order, because the stuff that happened last is the stuff freshest in my mind.

On the way home yesterday, we were driving through the expansive wasteland that is central Indiana when we came to a screeching halt. Literally. I thought we were going to get rear ended because when the speed limit is 70 and it's sunny and clear, nobody expects to have to stop in the middle of I-65.

As we rolled past the delay, I saw them. Servicemen and women, in camo, setting up flares around their convoy. One of their huge trucks had suffered a blow out and they were stranded on the side of the road.

Now I've always said that I support our troops but I do NOT support the war. I firmly believe that the two aren't mutually exclusive. I do love my country. I do, I really do. But I hate Bush and I hate the status quo and I hate political and corporate corruption. But I support our troops, with my whole heart I do and I know I could never be a military wife or serve myself. However, I didn't expect the deep visceral reaction I had when I saw the unit stranded. Tears sprang up in my eyes and all I could think was "Better here than Baghdad."

Yesterday, CNN.com reported more troops in Iraq dead and wounded. Everyday, some body's son or daughter or husband or wife or father or mother is hurt or killed...and for WHAT? Don't we have enough problems here in our own country to take care of? We can get on with policing the rest of the world when we get our own stuff straight and manage to perfect a Utopian society. Until then, bring the troops home. The Army has a flat tire - literally and metaphorically. It's time to change it.

You know it was a good vacation when...

...you get home and you're like "WHEW! I'm so glad to be back!" :D Which is exactly how we feel.

We took Moose and the Girls to Nana's beach house in Myrtle Beach, SC for a week and a half. Which is totally not my ideal vacation destination, but it's ocean front so who am I to complain? We frolicked in the ocean, ate calabash shrimp, took the girls to the ocean, saw a jellyfish, shopped, took Moose to a Japanese steakhouse and spent some time gloriously lazing about doing nothing. My favorite night? The one I spent on the deck with a glass of Pinot Grigio and an Acid Blue Blondie. Ahhh, life is good.

Photos are posted here on Facebook, with more forthcoming.

Protection

I've learned that our dogs are exceedingly protective of me. It's really sweet. When Tim was gone, the girls staggered themselves around the house at night for maximum guard dog effectiveness. Bella slept on the top back of the couch (imagine an 85 lb. dog sleeping like a cat across the back of the sofa) with her head poked through the front curtains to watch. Katie slept on the landing of the stairs, ready to provide a second line of defense in case of intruders. They usually snooze on the couches. Bella usually sleeps on her back, paws up, as if she were a person. (A person with paws, anyway). It was really precious to see how they altered their habits while Daddy was gone. It made me feel safer. They are both the friendliest dogs ever, and if anybody ever did break in they would probably kiss them to death, but they stepped up and guarded us while we were alone without The Man of the House.

They are still looking out for me, too. Last night I was coming downstairs to turn down the thermostat. I was melting in my sleep! I hit the stairs wrong, half asleep with greasy feet (you know how they say to put lotion on your feet at night & then sleep in cotton socks? I'm convinced the cotton socks are to keep you from falling on your rear if you get up in the middle of the night) and took a tumble. My left arm got wrenched behind me and I rolled down the stairs to the landing. Bella woke with a start, she was immediately on high alert. She let out one quiet bark - "Woof!" as if to say, "Dad!" When there was no response, she barked again - only once, and a little louder, "WOOF!" "DAD!" Both girls ran to my side and started licking my skinned knees and elbows. Tim heard the commotion and came into the hall. I had him go shut the damn thermostat off, then arose on wobbly legs (the girls stood by my side, offering their strong shoulders as support) and headed back up to bed. Katie then decided she would sleep close to me to take care of me, so she spent the rest of the night upstairs with me.

When I awoke this morning, I found out that I hurt myself worse than I thought I did when I was half asleep during the night. I pulled my shoulder, hit my elbow, jammed my wrist, bruised my butt and hit my head. I'm a wreck today. I think it will be a pajama day at home.

Thank God I have the dogs to take care of me!

*swoon* My Hero!

I was on my way upstairs to get Jackson in bed, carrying my bag, Jackson's ba-ba bag (the little cooler bag we put an ice pack in and several milkies for him to have throughout the night), a shopping tote and probably five other things (classic mom/packmule situation) when my bluetooth headset fell out of my bag.

Let's backtrack on the headset. I know, I'm a princess. Blah blah blah. Whatever. Anyway, for Christmas I got a new Jawbone bluetooth headset. It's awesome. I love it. It looks like a cheese grater in my ear. It's fantastic, I highly recommend it. Anyway, it's kind of a pricey headset and I guard it like it's a national treasure. I like nice things, and I also try to take care of them. Especially electronics. My dad was what they call now an "early adopter" and he always had to have the latest and greatest gadgetry. And he would freak out if we used the wrong cleaning spray to dust his new whatever it was off, or if you vacuumed while the TV was on (allegedly it was bad for the TV?) because those expensive electronic toys were like his pets. So you see, my love for new things that light up and make noise is a genetic code in my DNA.

So my headset falls out of my bag (I call it my shark tooth, because it's a bluetooth and the name "jawbone" makes me think of Jaws and he was a shark), Bella sees it and in her peabrain doggie head says, "Ooh a snack!" and promptly takes it through the doggie door to her backyard. At this point I freaking lost it. I am totally feeling massive stress and pressure with this talking in front of church thing. My mom's coming. She's chronically late. Like it's a medical diagnosis for her, Chronicus Tardius. I have to look up the CPT code for ya. Anyways, I am sure that she will be late and then will be mad that we proceeded without her, and then she will get all huffy and yelly and this will look horrible in our new church that we've only been going to for a few months, but we really and truly love it there but I will be SHAMED from every going back after this ugly scene that plays out in my head... And then there's the talking in front of the entire church on stage under the spotlight. Tim sucks at public speaking so the duty has fallen upon me. I used to rock speeches and performances, but they were not nearly as important and ceremonial as my firstborn son's baby dedication in which we will thank God for the honor of having been entrusted with his precious soul and we will pledge before our family and church community to do everything we can to be Godly parents and raise a fine and upstanding Christian man. So the pressure, the pressure...the stress, the strain the pressure and then the dog takes my shark tooth out to the backyard and I. LOSE. IT.

I am all hysterical and weepy and panicky and can't breathe or think or move or do anything but just crumple down into a heap and cry. I'm so pathetic right now. But seriously, first it was the eyeliner and now I'm stressing about memorizing my Bible verses that I want to use for the baby dedication, and worrying about the Chronicus Tardiusness...and I'm like Tweek on South Park....it's TOO MUCH PRESSURE!

Tim comes downstairs and asks me what's wrong and I'm all "I dropped my shark tooth (jagged cry/wail/inhale) and Bella (cry) took it outside (hyperventilate) and it's dark (weep) and I can't (hyperventilate) find it and (wail) it's off (almost scream) so I can't see the light!!!!!!!"

And he grabs his wallet and puts it in his pocket.

And I say, "How is THAT going to help you find it???" He says he's going to Osco to buy a flashlight.

Oh.

Well, that's a good idea.

I slowly start breathing again. And as he heads out the door, I blurt out, "don't forget batteries!" You know, because at this point somehow I have my stuff together more than he does - me the blathering idiot, compared to his collected cool. Ha. He says, "okay".

Five minutes later, he returns and after a fruitful search of the yard he recovered my very mangled shark tooth. The earbud part has been snapped off the part that looks like a cheese grater and I am just so very sad. I really loved my shark tooth.

I sat with it and somehow figured out how to snap the earbud part back into the cheese grater part. I pressed the button, it powered on. I scream, "HOLY CRAP!" from upstairs and Tim comes running...thinking I was having some kind of meltdown again, I suppose. I showed him the blinking light, we made some test calls and voila - just like that - my shark tooth is all better!!!!!

Yay, yippee, hooray!!!! My husband is the most awesome, sweet, mellow and easygoing creature. He is totally the yin to my yang and tonight he was my super rockstar hero.

I told Jackson that if he grows up to be half as wonderful as his father is, I will consider my mothering him to be the success of my life.

Vixen Hunter

My most favoritest eyeliner in the whole world is Revlon Colorstay #205, called "Vixen". This morning, I got to the end of my tube. About a year ago, Coupon Chris scored some BOGO (buy one, get one free) with a coupon that ended up making it BNGT (buy none, get two free - the holy grail of couponing). Chris barely ever wears makeup but she knows I am totally the Queen of Cosmetics so she got me 2 of my favorite eyeliners. They're gone. I wear it almost every day. It's the best color in the world.

Tomorrow is Jackson's baby dedication at church and I was FREAKING OUT about not having my tried and true, trusty perfect eyeliner shade to wear while I stood on stage at church and talked to the hundreds of people.

So we popped in to Target to grab one. They were sold out. I needed some Rescue Remedy. Asking me to go without eyeliner is like asking me to go...naked or something. Tim sees my fright and says, "Meijer is open 24 hours." (It was 10 pm). I breathe a sigh of relief and we go across the street. I'm in the aisle at Meijer, looking at every Revlon Colorstay eyeliner...black, charcoal, brown, blackberry, navy...no Vixen. WHAT??? NO VIXEN????!!!!!111!!! So then I go by number...202, 204, 205...wait. 205 isn't Vixen anymore, 205 is now "Blackberry". Whatever.

If they changed the actual color, my life will be OVER. Okay, that was a little melodramatic but seriously...I've been wearing that same color since it came out, at least for 10 years. It, unlike Beyonce's exboyfriend whose stuff is to the left to the left, is irreplaceable.

Women are amazing...

...of course, you already know this. But here's something you'd never get a dude to do!

Worth a thousand words...

Yet another scandal in government, no big shocker there. What struck me about the article on CNN.com was the photo accompanying it.

His face says either, "I really screwed the pooch on this one." or "I'm sorry I got caught."

His wife's face says, "How could you? I am so broken and betrayed. You slimy greaseball of a man. I can't believe I have to stand by your side for this crap. I deserve better."

My heart is all kinds of sad for her.

An Open Letter, to the Cat in Heat in my backyard.

Dear Cat,

I have 2 dogs, not cats. And they are girls. So they will not come out to jump your bones anytime tonight, or any other night for that matter. Please shut up.

I will let them out so they can scare you from here to Rte. 59 if you don't can it. But seriously dude, people are sleeping or trying to sleep here, and you are making too much stinking noise. I'm sorry you're not getting any hot loving. I can't help you out, so please stop making such a racket in my yard. Thank you.

The deals mamas make

We have struck a deal with a couple who go to the same church as us and are in our local AP group - we're going to trade off babysitting favors for each other so we can both enjoy couples night out every now and again. Their little guy is 9 mos or so and is scooting/crawling. Naturally, I'm concerned about having the floors super clean so he doesn't end up going home looking all yucky.

I call my friend to confirm what time they are dropping the baby off, and express my panic at how I'm struggling to clean while trying to keep Jackson down for his nap. I usually lay down with him and this helps him stay asleep. I said, "Well, I'm freaking out because I want the floor perfectly clean because Isaac is crawling." She says, "Oh, please don't make your floor perfectly clean because then mine has to be perfectly clean when we watch Jackson!"

Ha ha ha. It's a deal. ;)

The Business of Being Born

The Business of Being Born is a new documentary film that was executive produced by Ricki Lake. It explores how birthing trends in America have changed over the years, and how our birth process differs from every other developed nation in the world, with a much higher infant and maternal mortality rate. After experiencing my own intervention-addled labor and eventual emergency cesarean section delivery with Jackson, I was sure I wanted to see the film. I was also sure I wanted to see it without the distraction of Jackson being around. I'm also pretty sure that Tim didn't really want to see an hour and a half of awesome vaginas, so I figured I'd better watch it while he's away. I ended up watching it with Jackson this morning.

I will be honest - there were moments that made me tear up. Pretty much every time a mother pushed out a baby on her own then gloriously lifted her baby up into her arms, a look of blended triumph, amazement and elation on her face...I cried. I cried thinking, "that's what I want." And then I cried more thinking, "I may never get to have that."

In shock, I listened as various doctors and midwives shared the statistics of birthing practices around the world. The US is so backwards when it comes to how we give birth. Then slowly, anger rose in me as they described the multiple interventions that cascade one into another and eventually result in an emergency section. I have been suspecting that I may have been a victim of the system, and hearing this information confirmed it.

I left the experience of the film steeled with a new determination to find a midwifery based practice who will take a VBAC with primary diabetes. I feel that based on the evidence I can produce of my first birth - my perfectly controlled blood sugars all verified by lab work, my perfectly sized baby, unheard of in diabetic mothers - I feel that if I can diminish the fact that I am diabetic since I am so well controlled it is almost a non-issue in my pregnancy, maybe I can sweet talk someone to take me if I also do parallel traditional "high risk" prenatal care. I won't put either me or our next baby (whenever we decide to start trying for next baby, which is not yet) at undue risk. I just want to have the opportunity to give my body the chance to do what it was designed to do. I'm not saying I have to have a natural birth. I just want a chance. Hopefully I can find a practice who is willing to give me that chance.

I also left the film experience reduced to tears, both mourning the loss of the birth that I wanted for Jackson afresh and also rejoicing in the amazing little person he has become despite of it. In the end, I was glad he was here when I watched the movie. I needed to hug him. I signed to him "hug mama" and he ran across the room to me, wrapping me in one of his passionately sweet embraces - he hugs you so hard, he trembles. We call it a "shakey hug". Of course, this made me cry all the more, and being the wonderful and precious, sensitive and loving little guy that he is, he then covered my face with his sweet baby kisses, adding an emphatic "Mwah!" with each slobbery peck to my tear-soaked cheeks. Like I said, he's become an amazing little person.

The Business of Being Born is currently in limited release in theaters; and available for home viewing from Netflix on DVD or streaming on demand.

Magic cleaning solution...

Mom spit can get almost anything off a child's face...


Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

While the Cat's away, the Mouse will...

Redecorate! Found a fab deal on this bedding set, which included a bed skirt, comforter, 2 Euro shams, 2 King shams AND two decorative pillows for $80 at the Bullseye Boutique. Hooray! I am SO in love with the color combo of slate blue and chocolate brown right now!

Reason #6,328,313 why I love cloth diapers

Sweaterbutt pants as a wool cover over a plain old fashioned prefold diaper. (I use a Snappi to close the diaper, no pins for me!) I mean, how cute are these woolies? I made them, or rather repurposed them out of an old wool/angora sweater that I picked up for $2.50 at Goodwill, using this method.

Reason #6,328,312 why I love cloth diapers

Pampers can't touch this in terms of cuteness!

Made me LOLz

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

You go, Cat. Yes, we can.

A week of temporary single motherhood

Hubster has been called upon to serve a tour of duty in Westmont, NJ for work, lasting a week. (This is in the part of New Jersey that wants to be Philadelphia. There are three parts of New Jersey. The part that wants to be Philly, the part that is AC, and the part that wants to be New York.) He departed yesterday morning and will be gone until Wednesday night.

Can I just tell you, that being a single mom SUCKS? Thank God I don't have to work a real paying job like real life single moms do. I couldn't hack it. Phat mad props to the real single moms out there, you ladies are amazing. That being said, I will now commence to whine and moan about my week thus far.

Jackson is an 11 am pooper. Once a day, around 11, he becomes Captain Stinky McPoopypants. Like clockwork. No big deal. It's reliable, I kind of like it. I know that with his 2nd diaper change, I put a flushable liner in his diaper and that helps me wrangle the turds that will soon appear. This is true for every single day, except yesterday. Yesterday there was an 11 am poop. And a 2 pm poop. And then, for good measure, a 8 pm poop. You know, just because he wasn't sure if I had seen enough baby poop that day. Needless to say, I was not pleased.

And then there's the talking and explaining. He asks me, "Durka durka la Dada?" and I know he is asking where his father is. I try to explain that Daddy had to take a trip and he will be back in seven sleeps. As you may guess, this is a difficult concept for a 17 month old to grasp (this is when we all together gasp and say, "Holy cow, he's almost a year and a half already????!!!!!!).

Besides helping out with Jackson when I need to go to the bathroom, cook dinner or do the dishes, Daddy fulfills many other important roles. For example, some nights Jackson wants to snuggle in Mommy's chest pillows to fall asleep, and sometimes he wants to snuggle into Daddy's fur. Daddy is the official purveyor of fine bathing expeditions in our house. Tim chose bathtime as his part of our bedtime routine back about 13 months ago (when we started having a bedtime routine). He has mastered the delicate balance of bubble bath to water ratio, knows which duckies are the preferred ones and has really polished his Bathketball 3 point shot to perfection. Dada is also in charge of all shoulder rides/swinging around/swinging upside down/swinging the baby in the air and give Mommy a heart attack maneuvers. I don't do upside down. Just...no. I wear him on my back and that's about it. He's 30 pounds. There is no indoor gymnastics going on here.

So...how will this week end? Will Mommy keep her sanity? Will the dishes ever get done? Who will take the trash out next Tuesday night? Can Jackson survive an entire week without being tossed into the air or going on a shoulder ride? Will Mommy suck at Bathketball, or will it be nothing but net? To find out all this and more, stay tuned...

You say it's your birthday...

Celebrating You

for Jaylo.

I remember way back when,
About 4 years ago
I was trying to escape Chicago for LA
But was delayed for snow.

Stuck in O'Hare with a carry on and a phone
We talked for hours while my plane was delayed
Conversation came so easily
I almost wished I could have stayed.

A week later we met for dinner
Over sub-par mole, tequila and lime
You captured a piece of my heart *
My spirit woke up for the very first time.

I drove home feeling like I could fly,
All of a sudden life was fresh and new
You always draw out the best parts of me
So today I celebrate you.

You gave me permission
To reach for what I wanted
To demand better
To dream bigger than I ever had before.

You made me believe
That I was beautiful
That I was brilliant
That I was amazing and that I deserved more.

You let me cut loose in every way,
We did the Momo and drove the bus
I love that these words mean nothing
To anybody but us.

As I grew, I changed directions
I know that today isn't at all what we planned,
You're across the country and
I'm blissful with another man.

Yet you are the one who made me believe
That all my dreams can come true
And since today is the day you were born,
Today I celebrate you.

* this is some prime, high-end real estate, Pal. And once you become tenant, that studio apartment is yours for life. You can never be evicted. Happy Birthday. May this year be your best ever. I wish you every happiness life has to offer - you deserve it!

The Obamamobile is ready to rock and roll!

I got Tim's permission for not only one, but TWO stickers and he even helped put them on!

I took some cell phone pics this morning of our Obamamobile:

Si se puede

I'm pretty sure everyone in the world has seen this by now, but in case you haven't - or in case you'd like to see it again, here is will.i.am's "Yes We Can" Obama Video.

If this doesn't inspire you, the part of your heart where Patriotism used to reside is dead.





It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a nation.

Yes we can.

It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists as they blazed a trail toward freedom.

Yes we can.

It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores and pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness.

Yes we can.

It was the call of workers who organized; women who reached for the ballots; a President who chose the moon as our new frontier; and a King who took us to the mountaintop and pointed the way to the Promised Land.

Yes we can to justice and equality.

Yes we can to opportunity and prosperity.

Yes we can heal this nation.

Yes we can repair this world.

Yes we can.

We know the battle ahead will be long, but always remember that no matter what obstacles stand in our way, nothing can stand in the way of the power of millions of voices calling for change.

We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics...they will only grow louder and more dissonant. We've been asked to pause for a reality check. We've been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope.

But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope.

Now the hopes of the little girl who goes to a crumbling school in Dillon are the same as the dreams of the boy who learns on the streets of LA; we will remember that there is something happening in America; that we are not as divided as our politics suggests; that we are one people; we are one nation; and together, we will begin the next great chapter in the American story with three words that will ring from coast to coast; from sea to shining sea --

Yes. We. Can.

Hitchin' up the buggy, churnin' lots of butter, raised a barn on Monday, soon I'll raise anotha

This Friday we packed up the whole family (puppies included) and trekked out to Amish Country, Indiana. We stayed in a pet-friendly hotel in Shipshewana and had a lovely weekend of relaxing and doing...really, nothing. Which is the beauty of vacation to Amishland, there is nothing to do there, nowhere you have to be, no schedules, no rush...you just b-r-e-a-t-h-e and be still. You can open your windows at night and hear the clip-clop of horse drawn buggies traveling down the road, as you sit and read or knit or sip cocoa and just CHILL.

Amishland is my Happy Place. The pace is slow and easy, the people are genuine, the food is amazing. There is homemade noodles, like you've never had anywhere before and this peanut butter spread that I'm sure my endocrinologist wouldn't be too pleased to hear I had and the PIE. Oh, the pie. More pies than Bakers Square, all homemade and wonderful. There's lots of great shopping to be had, lots of artisan shops and of course beautiful quilts.

And there are farms. Miles and miles of farms. So naturally, I thought we're going to Amishland, surely I would be able to find some Amish milk while we're out there. We buy Jackson Amish non-homogenized organic whole milk. Lots of reasons, but he prefers it so much now and it's not that much more expensive than Horizon Organics or Organic Valley (the factory farms of organic dairy - don't get me started!) We went to every store in Amishland in our quest for Moose's milkies. None. Not even any organic milk to be had! We ended up having to drive over 1/2 hour away into "town" to a health food store, where we bought the same brand of milk we buy here at Whole Foods. It's from the Kalona Amish Farms in Kalona, Iowa. I was pretty irritated that I couldn't find any good milk! I was ready to walk up to an Amish house & knock and ask if I could have some milk. I only needed about a quart, sheesh. Such milk drama!

The Girls did great on their trip out there and back. They napped in the back of the Jeep, and we timed our travel to coincide with Moose's naptime so he snoozed too. We drove out on Friday, enjoyed a fab Amish dinner at Das Dutchman Essenhaus Friday night, spent Saturday shopping for handcrafted wooden toys, organic pastured humanely raised and euthanized Amish meat and other Amish yummies, and went into "town" for milk and dinner. Sunday, everything is pretty much closed so we drove into the "town" that was the other direction because they have a Sonic there. You know I had to get my cheese tots and cream slush on, yo. Then today we took a leisurely pace returning home, stopping to rescue a lost dog on the way home. We had Chiropractor appointments this afternoon, then we went to do a little grocery shopping and we're all back home now, well adjusted all around.

Last night I snapped a few camera phone pics of Jackson after he fell asleep. I call this one, "Surrender to Slumber"



And here he is from another angle. So tiny, precious and sweet! I just want to eat him up! But that would be mean.

Apparently, he has things to say...

I love this photo that Carrie took at one of our playgroups. Check out the Donald Trump combover...is he telling me I'm fired? :)

Put a fork in her, she's done!

SWEEP SWEEP SWEEP SWEEP! Chanting this takes me back to state competition in high school. We knew how to clean up the 1st place awards.

But I digress...The Big O swept all the states in primaries/caucuses today, by very decent margins. Recent polls show that Obama is the most viable candidate in a face off with McCain (no big shocker there!).

Just in time for...nothing - our Obama for President yard sign arrived in the mail yesterday. Thanks! Backorders suck. A major triumph - Hubster is going to let me put an Obama bumper sticker on the Jeep! You must understand, the Jeep is his Golden Calf and the only sticker on it is the one required by the state. Car sticker permission is HUGE! I "said" we could remove it with Goo Gone after the election, but I really have no intention of doing so. (Shh!)

We had a lovely, quiet family day around the house today. Everybody got a really nice afternoon nap in too. And...life is good. :)

It's A Beautiful Day...

What a SUPER Super Tuesday it was for us. Even in the states that Hillary took, it wasn't by a large margin. More states chose change.

Take The Pledge!

It's time to "Pledge to Pick the Prez". I just did! By pledging you are not aligning yourself with any candidate. You're simply saying,

"I pledge to vote. I've had enough of politicians making decisions without our input - this year, WE'RE PICKING THE PRESIDENT!"

On a related note, my hat is off to Senator John and his wife Elizabeth Edwards for running an honest, upstanding campaign. May they be blessed as they continue to find ways to make America a better place for all of us. You were a worthy contender, Senator. The Obama camp awaits your endorsement, and I personally think you would make a lovely running mate for Obama as his Veep. I'm just sayin'.

W00T!!!!!!11!!!

that is all.

Pins and needles, needles and pins...

I'm eagerly awaiting the SC polls closing, and some vote tallies. I'm so anxious to see how The Big O did in SC!

Scratch that last post. Except I did mean what I said. New post:

Dear Hillary,

It's not a win if you still end up with less delegates.

Love,
Me

Primary Colors

Please don't make me vote for Mr. Mormon Man. His plan for Iraq is basically to let the war go on forever.

There is no way in hell I'd ever vote for Hillary. No way. The woman can't even control her own husband, how would she possibly ever run our nation? You have to be able to keep your own house clean before I let you run the White House.

I need some massive landslide primaries for Obama, or I need a Republican candidate that doesn't make me stabby.

Guliani? 9/11 is over, and you should be too. Go back to your cousinwife. You can wear a dress if you want, I don't care.

I don't heart Huckabee. I know, Evangelicals love him, but I don't. He opposes abortion rights. I'm pro-choice. I don't believe that abortion will ever be the choice for me, but I also don't believe it's my job to tell someone that it's not their right to choose. As Salt n' Pepa said so eloquently, "There's only one true Judge, and that's God, so chill and let my Father do His job."

John McCain can't even comb his own hair, for Pete's sake. There is no way he could actually be the Leader of the Free World. God bless him for his years of faithful service to his country and all that, but I think it's time for him to hang it up and start doing Viagra commercials.

Ron Paul is a joke.

So that means, there are no viable Republican candidates for me. If Hillary wins the Democratic nomination, that will leave me NO ONE TO VOTE FOR. The thought alone brings tears to my eyes...

Rêve de mon coeur

Precious chubby cheeks
that demand my kiss

Carmel colored silken
corkscrew curls,

Velvet tender sweet
soft skin,

Miniature hands, perfect toes,
mile long lashes, tiny nose

Crystalline hazel pools of light
gazing back at me,

You are my perfect gift
from above

You are a lifetime of wishes
realized...

Beloved dream of my heart.

Doin' Coupon Chris proud...

$252.00
Value of the 10 clothing items I snagged from the clearance racks at Kohl's this morning.

$25.20
How much I paid.

Me to Tim on the way home from the train station: "I hit Kohl's today and picked up 3 dresses, 6 blouses and a skirt."

Him: "Thanks for blowing my paycheck!"

Me: "I spent $25."

Him: "I'm not worthy, I'm not worthy!" (Wayne's World style)

INDEED.

Getting your just desserts...

I'm a big fan of dessert. Who isn't? Okay, I'm sure that out there somewhere is some Freak of Nature who doesn't like dessert, but I haven't met him. I assume it would be a him. Chicks like cake.

I'm also a fan of trying my best to eat well, and getting "my boys" as I refer to Mister and Moose to eat as many fruits and vegetables as possible. Here's the problem with Mister: he's not a picky eater at all, but he completely lacks the ability to make a good food choice. He is only able to choose the easiest food, the path of least resistance. So if he wants something sweet, he *could* be satisfied with an apple, but only if you first wash it and cut it up for him and make it easy to eat. If he walked up to the kitchen counter, and there was an apple and a Twinkie right next to each other, he'd take the Twinkie because it's easier. He will eat healthy food if I prepare it and set it in front of him, but he will not seek it out on his own.

Enter: The Sneaky Chef. This book, along with copycat Jessica Seinfeld's Deceptively Delicious were two of my "Merry Christmas To Me, From Me" presents this year. I've only tried out a few of the recipes, but so far everything has been YUM and the ideas have provided me with a culinary springboard into trying my own new tricks.

One of the recipes in The Sneaky Chef is "Say Yes to Sorbet". Like that's difficult. I will say yes to any frozen dessert, won't you? This little gem of a trick is so yummy!

1/2 c fruit juice
1 1/2 c frozen fruit

Put in food processor, puree. It's rough going at first, but hang on tight and ride it out. Let your food processor earn its keep. It takes up a lot of space on the counter! Pour into serving dishes, serve.

Yeah, that easy. And here's what I found - if you process it long enough in the food processor, it incorporates sufficient air into the mix that you can actually freeze it and it comes out like store bought sorbet. Knowing this, tonight I substituted milk for the fruit juice and added frozen strawberries, a dash of vanilla and a sprinkle of stevia. Oh yeah, strawberry ice cream. So good! It's in the freezer for tomorrow's dessert...if it lasts that long. I mean, I am a SAHM. And a girl's gotta eat sometime. Next I'm going to do pineapple and coconut (pina coladas, anybody?). Or cherry "ice cream" with chocolate chips. Are you drooling yet?

What I love most about this recipe is that I control exactly what's in it. There is no added sugar (well, unless I do that chocolate chip one). There's no high fructose corn syrup and no FD&C red #40. The sorbet is all just fruit and juice. For my first sorbet, I used Odwalla Mango Tango juice/puree blend as liquid and frozen mango and pineapple chunks. No sugar, no emulsifiers, no fat. All just delicious fruity goodness. I can't see a reason for buying store bought ice cream, sherbet or sorbet again!

Mister thinks I should try to make spinach sorbet. I think I'll skip that idea, and save the spinach for his next batch of brownies. What he don't know won't hurt him! ;)

Behold, the power of the faux Scandi. (Fandi?)

I have discovered mad, phat mei tai love. I've been wearing Jackson since he was a newborn. First I had a little sling, then I invested in an Ergo. Then I found pouch love with Hotslings (they're so awesome for tucking into your bag). Now Jack is really too heavy to wear comfortably with all the weight on one shoulder, and he's too tall for the Ergo's back panel.

Enter: Mei Tais. A met tai, or MT for short, is an Asian-inspired baby carrier. There is a waist strap that you tie on like an apron, then you put your baby on and tie shoulder straps on and wrap them around you & baby. Trust me, it sounds may more complicated than it is.

If you don't wear your baby, how do you get anything done? I pop Jack on my back and vacuum, mop, dust, do dishes, make lunch, you name it. Sometimes he has days where all he wants to do is be held, the MT is great for that. I can hold you all day, Baby, and get chores done. I put him on my back like a back pack when we're out shopping. He's happy with the elevated view over my shoulder and I'm happy because he's not trying to climb out of the cart, not trying to grab stuff off the shelves and not engaging in any other general mischief making.

You can get a basic MT online for $70 to $100 or so. I ordered one online and then said to myself, "Self, you can totally make that." What I wanted was a super nice, oversize, reversible Scandinavian MT though. The "Scandi's" as they are called in babywearing circles (yes, there are babywearing circles) are renowned for their comfort and ease of wearing due to their superior weight distribution. And, the one I wanted was about $300. I'm not Swedish, but I do shop at IKEA and I've had the meatballs there. I can make a Scandinavian mei tai!

And so a-shopping I went. I ordered fabric online. I grew impatient with waiting for it to come. So I went to JoAnn's. I raided their clearance section and found some really pretty stuff! It's costing me $10 to $25 per each to make my own mei tai's. I'm making a few, so I have a vast color assortment to choose from. I made this beige and coral one yesterday. It has embroidered corduroy straps, a cotton panel on one side (hot pink and coral madras plaid) and a silk floral embroidered panel on the reverse. I had to do dishes and make lunch, so I put Jackson on and went about my chores. About 10 minutes later, I felt a floppy head resting on my back so I went to the living room to untie the carrier onto the couch.

Ha ha! Take that, Mr. No Naps!


A shout out to the very talented oliviabolivia of The Babywearer for her clear and concise instructions on her blog, Christmas Eve Twins (which I totally bastardized to suit me, but she inspired me to do it!)

Love, on Its knees

In the back of my Bible, I was provided with some blank white pages. I don't know what they're for, I think they're just filler. In high school, I started using them as a place to jot down quotes that struck me in the heart. Some were from chapel sermons from high school and college. Others were thoughts that entered my mind during my devotions.

One of my scrawlings reads, "Intercession is love on its knees." I guess there's a book out there to that effect. I don't recall where I heard these words, I know I didn't read the book. But lately, I've been all about this love.

I've been all about this love when I pray for my friends Rob & Christina as the venture into the great unknown with their new ministry. I've been all about this love while I pray for Rob's mom and dad, as they deploy to the mission field, at an age most couples are retiring! I'm all about this love as I remember my friend Brandi and her precious unborn child that we can't wait to meet. And I'm all about this love when I pray for my brother Adan, who is trying to get his life back together and cobble back together the pieces of his fractured family as he tries so desperately to be a good father. I'm all about this love as I remember my friend Lisa, as she and Scott are rebuilding their relationship and strengthening their family after being devastated by hurt and betrayal. And I feel this love circulating back to me in return, when my nephew was hospitalized this past week and my friends remembered him in their prayers.

When I consider the amazing, transforming power of prayer (more than meets the eye, to be sure) it stuns me and quiets my heart...it all starts in quiet corners when we humbly bow and say, "Father, please..."

And then I watch, and am amazed. I watch as this swirling tornado of prayers lifts us all up and elevates each of us to be better tomorrow than we are today. It's so...WOW.

What a wonderful gift we are able to give one another with just a moment of our time. Thanks for your love, on its knees.

No, Buffalo Bill. They don't sell that at JoAnn's.

We're getting Jackson ready for bed and Tim asks, "Do they sell that stuff on the bottom of his feet at the fabric store?"

Me: "No, they don't sell SKIN BY THE YARD. Anywhere."
Him: "No, I mean the grippy stuff on the bottom of his sleeper footies."
Me: "Oh, yeah. They sell iron on grippy stuff."
Him: "I bet that Silence of the Lambs guy would like it if they did sell skin."
Me: "Yeah, he wouldn't have had to kill all those people and make them put lotion on."
In stereo: "It puts the lotion in the basket, or else it gets the hose again!"

Skin by the yard. How gross!

WAY TO GO, IOWA!

The Hawkeye State got it right tonight, big time! *\o/*

I'm so happy I'm crying.

I'm such a wuss.

O-BAM-A O-BAM-A O-BAM-A O-BAM-A!!!!!!!!!!!!

Makin' my birthday list early...2008

It has just occurred to me that the one thing I have been longing for could possibly be given to me for my 34th birthday. What a fantastic way to wrap up my Christ Year!

My next birthday will be on November 4, 2008. (Mark your calendars). Everybody I know can pitch in and help give me what I want.

It will not cost you anything but your time.

You will be giving me what I want most desperately.

You will also experience benefits from giving me what I want.

To give me this amazing gift that will make me sooooo happy will require a bit of planning.

November 4th is Election Day. And I want Obama for President for my birthday.

Here's how to do it:

1) Register to vote. In many states, you must declare a party in order to vote for that party's candidate for the primary. (Oh, did I mention we're voting in the primaries too? That's part of the deal.) Illinois is one of those states. Oh, and I don't mean to pressure you, but you need to do this by January 8th. So let's step to it, shall we?

2) Barack the Vote! Ah, I love me a good pun. Anyway, please do go out and vote in the primaries. Sam, you get a vote too. Here's the map showing when everybody's primaries are. Everybody! To the polls! You have a birthday gift to give!

3) Now, one last appearance at the polls from you, for me, on my birthday. I'm counting on you to show up for the primaries. I'm confident if I get the five people who regularly read this blog to vote for Obama, that he will win the party nomination. So then on my birthday this year, all you have to do is vote for Obama again and then voila - my birthday wish has come true!

Please note that in the event that Obama doesn't win his party's nomination, I DO NOT want Hillary Clinton for President! She already got to be President, twice. No mas!

Now obviously you can't just blindly vote for a dude you don't know anything about just because I asked you to do so. Well, you could, but that would be quite dull of you and my friends are sharp as tacks. Here is a list of reasons why we're voting for Barack. Here's my biggest reason for voting for him: it's time for a huge, drastic change in how our country is run. For too long, our nation has been run by The Man. And by The Man, I mean the corporations who pay the politicians to get them in office, and then manipulate them like puppets to do their bidding. So while we have a government that was founded to be "by the people, for the people" in practice it is anything but. Barack Obama stands to change that. Barack Obama's campaign has been financed by...people just like you and me. Actually, me - I have given. But he is the first and only candidate to reject the usual methods of fundraising where you collect money from political action committees, lobbyists and corporations. Barack's donors are everyday people with an extra $25 to share with someone they believe in. This grassroots movement has set records. Obama has had more private donations from more individuals (500,000 of us!) than any other candidate in history.

In his February 10, 2007 speech in which he declared his candidacy Barack said, "In the face of impossible odds, people who love their country can change it."

Also, people who love me can give me what I want for my birthday. I'm just sayin'.