"I have not failed.  I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work." ~Thomas Edison

"I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious." ~Albert Einstein

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I came across something very interesting yesterday and I want to share it with you.

This was an article published at wired.com called  "The Truth About Autism: Scientists Reconsider What They Think They Know."  Part of what it addresses is something I feel very strongly about--Maybe autism isn't something that needs to be FIXED.  Maybe it's something that needs to be understood.  Maybe people with autism have brains that are different, not disordered, defective or diseased.  See, I don't see my son as someone who needs to be cured or fixed or forced to be like everyone else.  I see him as an incredible unique individual with God-given gifts and abilities that are integral to our family and to our society. A direct quote from the article: "The condition [autism], they say, shouldn't be thought of as a disease to be eradicated. It may be that the autistic brain is not defective but simply different — an example of the variety of human development. These researchers assert that the focus on finding a cure for autism — the disease model — has kept science from asking fundamental questions about how autistic brains function."  Monies are made available to find cures, but not to study differentness.

If there were no people on the autism spectrum, there would, in my opinion, be no understanding of gravity, no E=MC2.  There would be no Apple computers, no Microsoft, no light bulbs.  There would be no penicillin.  We would still be sitting around in the dark, thinking we were going to fall off the edge of the earth, trying to make fire and dying of infection caused by paper cuts...but then, would there be any paper?  Many autistic people have an incredible ability to hyper-focus.  To be so intensely interested in what fascinates them that they will not stop until they get their desired result.  In day to day life, it can almost be crippling for some, but in the long run, that intensity of focus creates some amazing outcomes.  Why do we want to "cure" that?  That quirkiness, that differentness?  That amazing gift?  If we were meant to be cookie cutter people, we would be.

[Some may disagree, and that's okay.  Maybe it's easier for me to say, "don't cure my son", because he is high functioning, he is 'verbal', he manages very well at school, etc.  He does do very well.  And I am very thankful for that every single day.  So, please understand, I don't discount the experiences of those whose children are severely affected and may be praying for a cure.  Everyone has their own opinion and experiences.  With that said...]

One of the focuses of this article is a 27 year old woman named Amanda Baggs.  She has autism and she doesn't speak...at least not in the conventional way most people do.  She uses a software application on her computer that generates a synthesized voice...she types it, the computer speaks it.  Incredibly, she types 120 words per minute.  Mainstream society would label her "non-verbal".  I beg to differ.  She communicates more articulately and with more passion and thought than most of our "neurotypical" society does.  She has also created several youtube clips which she says are a political statement meant to demonstrate to people how they underestimate those with autism. 

Take a look at one of her youtube clips:

Rethink what you think you know.  Reconsider what you consider communication.  Be sensitive to those around you.  Don't underestimate, understand.  Try to speak their language.  They speak loudly if we will listen.

"A person without a sense of humor is like a wagon without springs. It's jolted by every pebble on the road." ~Henry Ward Beecher

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Just for fun, here's a list of recent Google searches which have landed people at my blog----seriously, I don't make this stuff up.

• people selling meat door to door from a freezer on the back of a truck
• middle school armpit hair
• red can y red van
• pox from robin hood
• Rapunzel Rapunzel with hair so fine
• it's a bummer
• hopped up on benadryl
• an ode to my fatness
• locks of love
• can dogs get chicken pox
• head lice help
• i'm speeding because i have to poop bumper sticker

There is also the EVER popular search for the photo of my favorite underwear which gets me hits EVERY day, at least once.  Hmm.  I hope it's ladies shopping for underwear and not pervy picture seekers, but I guess we'll never know.

Cracks me up every day.

"You know, sometimes love isn't fireworks. Sometimes, love just comes softly" ~Sarah Graham to Marty Claridge in "Love Comes Softly"

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So I watch the Hallmark channel occasionally.

Hubby just shakes his head at me, cause I'll be all teary-eyed watching some Hallmark movie.

The other day, I happened to catch a bit of a movie called "Love Comes Softly"--which I have seen before.  It stars Katherine Heigl, of Grey's Anatomy fame, as Marty, and Dale Midkiff as Clark.  It could be described as a chick flick meets Little House on the Prairie.  Hardship and love on the frontier.  It's what I call a "feel good" movie--with some great lessons along the way.  The movie is based on the novel of the same name by Christian fiction author Janette Oke.  It is the first book in a series of 8--none of which I've read, but that's beside the point.

As I said, I've seen this movie before, but somehow I had missed this exchange between Marty (heroine) and Clark (love interest).  Clark's first wife died, his barn has burned to the ground and yet, he remains strong in his faith and hopeful about the future of his farm.  Marty can't understand why...why would Clark pray to a God who allows bad things to happen?  I loved Clark's answer.

He talks about his daughter Missy, and how they may be walking along together, even holding hands, and she might fall.  Even when he's holding on to her.  He didn't cause the fall--he didn't want her to fall.  But he is there for her.  As her daddy who loves her, he helps her back up and loves her.  It's the same way with God. 

Clark tells Marty,  "The truth of God's love is not that he allows bad things to happen.  It's his promise that he'll be here with us when we do."

I'll go with that.

"What greater thing is there for human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to be with each other in silent unspeakable memories."  ~George Eliot

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Did you know that the ice cream chain, Baskin-Robbins, of "31 flavors" fame, ACTUALLY has 32 flavors?  I didn't.  At least not until today.  I would like to add that their pistachio almond is quite delicious.  And though I am normally a cake girl, it would certainly do in a pinch.

As family fun Saturdays go, this one ranks pretty high up.  We had a lazy morning (which included watching some Man vs. Wild, Mythbusters and Dirty Jobs on Discovery Channel).  The weather was pretty overcast.  I was waiting for the lovely day my weather man had promised...and it came.  Finally.  This afternoon. 

Hubby looked at me and said we should go somewhere.  I agreed.  So we did what all self-respecting people do on Saturday.  We went to Chick-Fil-A.  Or as my 3 yr old nephew calls it, "Chick-A-Lay".  We always enjoy Chick-A-Lay.  The customer service beats out every fast food place I have ever been to in my ENTIRE life.  This is no exaggeration.  Who else says "My pleasure" upon being thanked for what they are supposed to do anyhow?   Some people might say it's scripted, or it's too much or it borders on insincerity, but I say, why should we pooh-pooh the politeness?? There's so little of it in this world anymore.

Ms. Chick-A-Lay, could I have that on a wheat bun with no butter, please?

My pleasure.

Thank you, Ms. Chick-A-Lay, for my extra Polynesian sauce.

My pleasure.

Thank you, Mr. Chick-A-Lay, for my refill of Diet Dr. Pepper.

My pleasure.

Thank you, Mr. Chick-A-Lay, for being so doggone friendly.  It makes me want to eat here every day. 

My pleasure.

Today I even had a Chick-A-Lay employee come by our table and inquire if she could "refresh" my drink.  I did a double take.  What?  Are these people for real?  In my life, I have learned that what seems too good to be true probably is.  Not so at Chick-A-Lay.  Heck yeah, you can refresh my beverage...it'll be MY pleasure!

We proceeded from our enjoyable dining experience toward Charleston and the beaches.  To get there, you have to travel across the Ravenel Bridge.  Architecturally, it is pretty cool to look at.  But you can't think about it too much because then you would be all freaked out wondering how in the world can this bridge be carrying cars across it without just totally collapsing...and I mean, that kinda stuff just doesn't help anybody.  But I digress...

There is a walking path on one side of the bridge and today, since we weren't going anywhere in particular, we decided to walk up on the bridge.  It was a beautiful day.  We even saw some dolphins playing in the water below.  Very good timing because Emma was starting to moaaaan explain that her feet were hurting and she was tiiiiiired and she was in need of a distraction.  Oy.

After our walk we decided to ride down to the beach to feed the seagulls some crackers, because you know they are starving and on the brink of extinction, right?  Nothing has entertainment value like a good gull poop splatting down on you.  It was pretty funny all those birds swarming around us.  Emma (and I) were running away hoping to avoid the poop.  Fortunately we all managed to come out unscathed.  The birds were pretty annoyed when the crackers ran out.  Both kids felt compelled to pull off their shoes and socks and test the water.  They both said it was very cold, but somehow that didn't deter them from wading all in it.  What's a mother to do?  Who am I to deny these children their love of the ocean??  Yes, I know it's February.  But it's February in South Carolina, not Iowa.  We all had a blast.  (More pics in the Fun Weekends album.)

We stayed until the sun was sinking down behind the dunes.  There is no better time of day at the beach than sunset.  The kids didn't want to leave...who can blame them?  They are their mother's children.  With an ice cream bribe on the table, though, we managed to head toward the car.  After a quick detour to Baskin-Robbins, we made our way back across the bridge and headed home.  I really can't think of a more perfect day. 

One sleeve Ritz crackers: $1

Lunch at Chick-A-Lay: $20

Ice cream: $8

Sunset at the beach with my family: priceless

"Success is full of promise till one gets it, and then it seems
like a nest from which the bird has flown." ~Henry Ward Beecher

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Well, we really enjoyed the eclipse last night.  Unlike some of my spaces friends (Bill and Sheila) I did not take any pics, because my very fancy Canon PowerShot SD600 was just not cutting it.  Bill and Sheila, however got some great photos and I'm betting my friend Jim might have taken some as well...we'll just have to wait and see.   I think Jacob and Hubby loved it the most. 

About 8 PM last night I noticed Jacob kept stepping out the front door.  I asked him what he was doing and he gave the standard "nothing" as his response.  Then I realized he was looking at the moon.  We had a great view out our front door.  We kept going out and checking it periodically.  It was, for lack of a better term, REALLY COOL.  When we last looked at it about 10 PM, it was a nice copper color and the majority of the moon was eclipsed.  So, I guess I'm all good till 2010.

I have a very freaked out dog on my hands.  Poor Jiffy is not adjusting well to Lubie's arrival.  She is lying on my lap as I type at the computer and she NEVER has wanted to do that before.  Now that Lubie is "coming out of his coma" and being more active and "tweety",  Jiffy will go stand under Lubie's cage and growl and bark.  We have been working hard to correct her consistently.  I think Cesar Millan would be proud.  When Jiffy hears anyone talking to Lubie, she gets so jealous and comes running!  Hopefully she will adjust and things will calm down. 

The other new development, is that our brilliant bird can lift the door to his cage!!  He knows not what he does!!!  This is a disaster waiting to happen.  Or should I say, this is a little Birdie snack for Jiffy waiting to happen.  I managed to capture the moment on film...

I like to call it:  Lubie, the next great escape artist.

  
Video: Could Lubie be the next great escape artist?

Being the MacGyver that I am, I have utilized some handy dandy twist ties to keep the doors closed.  Such a brilliant bird we have.  Hopefully he doesn't chew through the twisties.  Keeping my fingers crossed and my twisties tied.

On the heels of my mountain retreat last weekend, here's something to think about:  Where do our perceptions of beauty come from?

Watch this:

Made you say "hmm" didn't it.  Yep, I thought so. 

The (very hilarious) woman, Margot Starbuck Hausmann, who spoke at our retreat last weekend, showed this clip as a segue into one of her talks.  As the clip ended, I heard a collective gasp make its way through the room.  I sat there, mouth hanging open, ready to catch some flies.  I was completely blown away.  I leaned over to my sweet friend Kathy and said, "Well, if they can do all that, then what in the world do they need live models for?  They can apparently just computer generate them!"  Seriously.  It is shocking that THIS is what we see, every day, as the "standard of beauty" for women.  This air-brushed, computer generated, new and improved, "perfected" end result.  When, all the while, lying there underneath, is a "real" woman, zits and all.  Just like you and me. Only she has been molded and shaped into something that no longer resembles her true self.  Does she even recognize her true self?   

Dove is right:  It's no wonder our perception of beauty is distorted.

And this is what our daughters are learning:  Who they are is simply not good enough in the eyes of the world.  They must cover it up.  They are unacceptable.  They are unlovable.  They are not okay as they are.

This is the message to us, as women, as well.  Don't think that just because you are beyond a so-called "impressionable age" that you are unaffected.  Oh, far from it.  We, as women, are bombarded with these images all day long, everywhere we look.  We are bombarded by TV, radio, magazines and the voices of others around us.  As square pegs, we are told that we must fit into a round hole.

We live in a world where sex sells and thin is beautiful.  These things are important, we are told. 

Clear skin.  Name brand clothes.  Hollywood hair.  22" waists.  Sex = Love.  Size 0.  Fresh breath.  White teeth.  Plenty of money.  DD boobs.  The "right" job.  The "right" car.  The "right" nose.  The "Better Homes and Gardens" perfectly clean home.  The "right" schools.  Et cetera, ad nauseam. 

So what is the result of that in the lives of many young women?  Boob jobs.  Depression.  Anorexia.  Bulimia.  Self-hatred.  Self-mutilation.  At the very least, poor self-esteem and not being who we were meant to be.  Even as we are striving and striving, we lie to ourselves, telling ourselves we can never measure up.  And we start to believe the lie.  I start to believe the lie.

It's so easy to get caught up in all that stuff.  And I am as guilty as the next person.  Probably guiltier than some.  

Here's where I have to change my perceptions.  I need look at myself the way God sees me. 

Yes, I'm going there. 

God.  The Creator.  Loves me because He created me.  Loves all of us with our big noses, wide hips, post-baby pouches, PMS, crazy hair, bad skin, messy houses, beat up cars, cottage cheese thighs and Mom jeans.  And He looks at us and calls us beloved.  He calls us His children. He delights in us.  We are loved.  Not because the world gives us its stamp of approval, but because the One who created us says we are worth loving.  We can't clean ourselves up and make Him love us more than He already does.  And that's enough for me.

So here's what I've decided:

I am a curvy girl and I like it.  I love that I'm a goofball.  I am imperfect, but I do the best I can.  I am a loving wife and mother.  It's what I do.  I'd rather hang with my kids than swish the toilet.  I don't want to be who everybody else says I should be.  I like that I can make people laugh and can laugh at myself.  I am imperfectly perfect.  Oh, I definitely have my moments where I forget that I am okay as I am. Sometimes I forget that I don't have to be "good enough".  I still want to be liked and accepted.  And I get in that weird funky place sometimes.  And I do so long to look cute and to fit back in my size 10s.  But I know that even if I never get back in those size 10s, I am valuable, beautiful and loved.  Zits and all. 

That's what I want to model for my daughter.  If I'm not okay with who I am, how can I expect her to be?  I want to be the voice cheering her on, saying, "YOU ROCK!  I wouldn't change one thing about you!  Don't try to be someone you are not!  Be who God created you to be!"  And I defy anybody else to tell her anything different. 

Hmm.

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"The truth, even though I cannot feel it right now, is that I am the chosen child of God, precious in God's eyes, called the Beloved from all eternity and held safe in an everlasting embrace... We must dare to opt consciously for our chosenness and not allow our emotions, feelings, or passions to seduce us into self-rejection." ~Henri Nouwen

"It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness."  ~Leo Tolstoy

"Seize the moment.  Remember all those women on the Titanic who waved off the dessert cart."  ~Erma Bombeck

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My name is Joell and I'm a cake-a-holic.

Yeah, that's right.  I'm having cake for breakfast.  And, man is it good.  Don't be hatin', I'm having coffee with it too.

I'm not ashamed.  And for any of my Weight Watcher friends out there, I'm sorry.  I was just needing me some cake.  If y'all have been reading this blog of mine for a little while, you might be aware of my love of cake.  You might remember the "cake 'n steak" episode from my birthday?  Just don't come between me and my cake, okay?   

If you think about it, cake is a fairly well-rounded food.  It's got eggs, milk, grain, glucose (I know, I know, you're saying "sugar"....sugar, schmugar--we all need some of that too!).  And if you decide to go with a carrot cake, by golly, you've got yourself a vegetable too!  Maybe I'm stretching it a bit, but I've got to rationalize it somehow!

Particularly delicious is the Funfetti cake mix by the doughboy.  It's basically yellow cake with some sprinkles pre-mixed into the batter.  And it is extra delicious with some pink vanilla Funfetti frosting on top!!  Yummmmyyyy.  Y'all just have to try it.  We like to call it "celebrate life" cake...

As most of you know, we used to live in Iowa until about six months ago.  Hubby's sister and her family live there too.  They moved there about two years before we did, for different reasons.  It was a huge blessing to have them there.  If you have been a bit of a nomad, like myself, you understand the gift it is to already know someone, anyone, in your new town.  Multiply that by a jillion and you have the gift it is to have family in your new town...family that you like, that is.  Just kidding.  Seriously, these are wonderful people.  We literally lived about 3 blocks away from hubby's sister.  It was awesome.  We would get together about once a week, generally on a Friday night, either at our house or theirs, to have dinner and catch up on the latest happenings (they had high-schoolers...life was very interesting).  Not long after we moved to Iowa, we went over to their house to have dinner one evening and I noticed there was CAKE!  Excitedly, I asked, "What are we celebrating?"  Hubby's sister looked at me, very matter-of-factly, and replied, "We are celebrating life!"  Hey, I'm cool with that!  From then on, the Funfetti cake became known as celebrate life cake.  A name that sticks to this day.  I miss the Iowa dinners with the fam.  My Jacob coined the phrase "Friday Night Family Fun Fiesta" aka "Quadruple F".  That's my boy!  It was something we always looked forward to.  Friday nights just aren't the same without FFFF.  OH well... 

It's been storming here, all night and early this morning.  It's the kind of day you really don't want to get out of bed!  I've been enjoying the quiet this morning.  The kids are sleeping in since it's a school holiday. (Oh, you didn't know?  Yeah, it's President's Day.  Heads up:  You won't be getting any mail today.  Just in case you were expecting something from Publisher's Clearing House.) 

I hope that wherever you are, the sun is shining, the snow is melting and there's plenty of cake. 

Surely there's some 12-step program out there for me??

ODE TO CAKE

Cake is good. Cake is fine.  Why can't I eat it all the time? 

I love cake.  Cake loves me. It goes great with black coffee.

Cake for breakfast.  Cake for lunch.  Cake for dinner.  Cake for brunch.

Cake for me.  Cake for you.  When there's cake, you can't feel blue.

Carrot, yellow, Funfetti or white.  All are precious in my sight.

Devil's Food.  Angel Food.  You can't go wrong. 

Equal opportunity, as long as the frosting's on.

Ice cream, cobbler, pudding, pie?

Who needs you when cake's nearby?

"I'm youth, I'm joy, I'm a little bird that has broken out of the egg."
~Sir James M. Barrie

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I would like to introduce you all to the newest member of our family--a male parakeet called "Lubie".  He is a very handsome boy indeed. 

And Jacob is SO happy--and that sure makes a mama happy! I mean, just LOOK at that face!

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Not the bird's, Jacob's.  Now there is the face of a happy boy.  Lubie has seemed a little nervous and was silent since he got home on Friday.  Until all of a sudden late Saturday afternoon, he gave us 4 pretty hearty CHIRPS.  It was rather exciting.  He also was on a bit of a hunger strike.  We (and when I say "we" I mean "I") even boiled him an egg and he hasn't touched it.  I'm hoping it's just his nerves.  Then finally, last night, we hear a little CRUNCH CRUNCH over in the vicinity of the cage, and sure enough, he was having a little birdie snack.  Yum Yum.  Still never touched the egg, though.  Hmm.  Had to throw that out this morning.  It was starting to look a little sketchy.  But I think Lubie is starting to warm up and relax a bit.  He's still nervous, but, hey, who wouldn't be, right?  We've been hearing a few more chirps and some more snacking.  He's even learning to "step up" onto your finger when you ask him to.  Best of all, he's not a biter.  Really glad about that.  Can't have the parakeet chewing off our fingers, now can we? 

You may be asking, "Lubie?  What in the heck kinda name is that?"  Well, I'll tell you.  Way back when, back before we acquired our crazy, lovable, dog Jiffy, Jacob always said that "when" we got a dog, he would want to name it Jiffy.  Where that came from, I'm not sure, but that's what he always said.  He was probably 4 or 5 at the time.  I figured it would pass, but when we got the dog, that was still the name.  So, we went with it.  It's original, and frankly, it suits her to a "T".  Over the years, Jiffy has often been paired with the words "cornbread" and "Lube".  Jiffy cornbread, a brand name "from the box" cornbread mix...quite delish, and Jiffy Lube--as in, the place where you can get a quickie oil change.  In honor of that, Jacob decided that we should have both a Jiffy and a Lube in our house.  So, instead of the "Billy Bob" that we originally thought we'd have, we now have Lube, aka Lubie. I've gotta admit, I kinda like it.  Leave it to my original, awesome kid to come up with an original, awesome name.

Confession time:  I never thought I'd be a bird person.  In fact, let's just say, I was a bird hater.  Truth:  I had a full-on bird phobia until, oh, about 6 years ago.  Yeah.  Seriously.  My dear friend, Kathy, of retreat fame, has a bird, a parakeet.  Has had about 5 of them, actually.  I think it was bird number 4, Obie, who helped me through my bird issue.  It was one year when I had gone to Kathy's for the retreat weekend, and Kathy's daughter really, I mean, really wanted me to "meet" Obie.  PANIC.  But who was I to deny that sweet girl the pleasure of introducing me, her beloved "Miss Joell", to her bird?  I was freaking out, though.  My heart was about to jump out of my chest.  Shortness of breath.  I was having a serious panic attack. It was crazy--that's why it's called a phobia, HELLO.  And if any of you have phobias, you know exactly what I am talking about.  But I was determined.  "We shall overcooooome."  Obie was fluttering around and I thought I would lose it.  I mean, what was I afraid of?  I was seeing the headlines..."Parakeet Pecks Out Eyes of Woman"  or "Parakeet Gives Phobic Woman Heart Attack".  What a lunatic I am.  Anyway, Obie stepped up on my (shaking) finger...climbed up my (panicky) arm, rested on my shoulder, and started pecking at my earring and my hair and well, I was cured--and hooked.  I can see why Jacob loves them so much.  Obie has since gone to the great birdie graveyard in the sky and now they have Zebbie, who I am always glad to see every time I visit them.

Here's to Obie...may he rest in peace.

And here's to many years of happiness with Lubie.  And happiness for Jacob.

Video: Our new pet!

"I don't understand why Cupid was chosen to represent Valentine's Day.  When I think about romance, the last thing on my mind is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon."  ~Author Unknown

I'm feeling a tad delinquent here. 

But let me get right to it...

Today is my sweet first born's 13th birthday.  Yes, Jacob was born on Valentine's Day.  Sweet, isn't it.  He is my funny valentine!

So, in my house, V-day, per se, doesn't exist anymore.  It's just pretty much Jacob's birthday.  But I love it.  If you're gonna have a holiday birthday, I think Valentine's Day is a great one.  I mean, you get sorta gypped if you have a Christmas/near Christmas bday.  July 4th, well, who can compete with the bday of an ENTIRE nation?  New Year's wouldn't be too bad.  But it's still close to Christmas.  And I don't really think I'd like a Halloween bday.   Leap Year, now that would pretty much stink.  I mean, you'd only get to celebrate your "real" bday every four years!  My mom's bday sometimes falls on Thanksgiving Day, and that's pretty cool.  A Valentine birthday rocks, but it's hard to find a Valentine Birthday card.  I need to give Hallmark a call.  There are never any good ones.  Or ONE I should say, because usually that is all there is.  One measly sad (bad) one.  Usually, I just skip it and get him a Valentine card and a B-day card.  I mean, more is better, right?  So, Happy Birthday to my Jacob.  I can hardly believe we have entered teendom.  It's pretty mindblowing.  It just keeps getting better and better!  The BIG news is that we are getting Jacob a parakeet for his birthday.  He has NO idea.  He loves birds.  And he's been asking for one for a long time.  I think I kept hoping it would pass.  But it hasn't.  His favorite bird is the bald eagle.  He loves raptors and hawks, but they aren't exactly pet material.  Neither is a bird that lives for like, 75 years (i.e. macaw or cockatoo).  A parakeet is a good place to start.  So, Hubby and I went and picked out a cage and the bare basics and we'll take Jacob to go pick out the one he wants.  He is going to be out of his mind excited and I am too, because I know how much he's going to love it.  More to come on that...

My retreat was great.  And Big Red came through for me and took me right through the mountains without a problem.  Unfortunately, my sweet friend/roomie was laid up with a terrible stomach bug pretty much the entire time.  I felt so bad for her.  I tried to resurrect my maternal skills, which I normally leave at home for that particular weekend, and give her some TLC.  I was forcing the fluids on her.  I told her that I really wasn't wanting to make a trip to the ER.  She was pitiful.  Aside from that, as always,  I enjoyed the teaching and the time alone to just be quiet.  I have to say, though, that I have been scared to death that I would come down with "the bug" too, but so far, I haven't.  She was pretty religious about washing her hands and I was kinda anal about not getting too close.  We'll see.  The scenery was amazing there in Montreat, NC.  It always is. There is something about breathing that (seemingly) clean mountain air that is so refreshing.  Can't wait for next year! ;-)

"Humor is the great thing, the saving thing.  The minute it crops up, all our irritation and resentments slip away, and a sunny spirit takes their place."  ~Mark Twain

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Door-to-Door Meat

I have a confession to make.  And this may come as a shock to y'all.

Yesterday, I bought meat from off the back of a truck. 

I know, I can't believe it myself.  But it's true.

A knock came at the door about 2:45.  I figured it was the neighbor girl wanting to play with Emma, so I answered the door.  And, dang it, I was cornered.  Not by a 10 year old little girl, but by a man.  A man selling meat.

These two guys came around the neighborhood in their little blue pick-' em-up truck with their freezer on the back of it selling FDA approved prime choice cuts of meat.  (How in the world they were powering up their freezer, I'll never know).  This guy was a salesman like none I'd ever seen before.  He was a freakin' meat salesman!  And I thought I talked fast.  Man, this dude could talk me under the table.  I could hardly see straight.  If there were Oscars for meat sales, this guy would be up there reading his little speech, thanking his mama for all her love and support in his meat endeavors.  Interestingly, there was something really endearing about this guy.  Go figure.

Of course he showed me the steaks first.  Delmonicos, Filet Mignon, hamburger patties, Ribeyes and New York Strips--one box of each in one giant box.  Don't eat much beef?  That's no problem.  We've got chicken too!  Chicken Cordon Bleu, Boneless, skinless breasts of chicken individually packaged to meet your individual needs.  Plain, Teriyaki, Catalina (whatever the heck that is), Cacciatore and whatever else you can think of (again, with boxes of each, inside the larger box).  And all it takes is $285--per giant box.  Are you freakin' kiddin' me?!  But wait!  If you buy the giant beef box, I'll give you the giant chicken box for FREE.  All for, you guessed it, $285.  Never mind I have a second home in Iowa I'm still trying to sell.  And never mind we are a one income family.  But wait!  If that's too much money, I'll give you the $20 off special and you can have it all for $265!  I could barely keep myself from jumping on those boxes of frozen meat, y'all!  I'm telling you!  And so it went. Of course he finally agreed to break up the giant box and sell the smaller boxes separately.  Poor guy really needed to unload some meat, I reckon.  So, I picked up some Ribeyes and some Fillet mignon for $60...figuring to about $3 per cut of meat.  I thought it wasn't such a bad deal.  I'll let you know after we've eaten it. 

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Night Moves

Night before last, we're all crashed out.  Getting some good sleep.  Next thing I know, Jiffy is going berserko! She is barking and trying to jump up on the bed with us.  Her legs are just too doggone short, though.  In all the commotion, it took a couple of minutes to hear this "tweeeet" sound coming from inside our room somewhere.  And in my fog, I realized that the smoke detector was telling us it wanted a new battery.  And oh yeah, it's 4 am!!!!  So, the smoke detector is "tweeting", Jiffy is going crazy and then we hear the kids stirring.  CRAP.  Clyn goes to get a chair and just can't reach the smoke detector waaay up on our 9 ft ceiling.  He goes to the other room, gets a "kid table" and proceeds to put the chair ON TOP OF the little table.  Now, I ask you, is this not an emergency room trip waiting to happen??  OY.  He removes the battery.  Meanwhile, Jiffy is continuing to try to jump up on the bed, but is only succeeding in WHACKING her head on the side of the bed frame, like about 10 times.  I was still not fully conscious.  But I reached over and grabbed her little white self and pulled her up on the bed with me...careful that she did not touch our new bedding!  All I need is little white hairs all over my beautiful new bed!  She proceeds to put her butt up by my head and both front paws up on my jugular!  She is in complete panic mode.  Clyn presses the TEST button and all the smoke detectors chime together in harmony, causing Jacob to holler out, "Why did you do THAT for??!"  I finally get up, so I can breathe because Jiffy has nearly cut off my circulation, and to go on a quest to find a 9 volt battery.  Even without the battery, the dang smoke detector keeps right on "tweeting"!  I'm afraid Clyn is about to rip the thing clean out of the ceiling just to make it shut up, so I hurry out of the bedroom to go find that battery.  Then I see Emma coming out of her room saying "When are y'all going to make that thing STOP?"  I tell her Daddy is trying his best.  I'm a little bit nauseous at being startled awake and having to navigate stairs at such an ungodly hour.  As I go down the stairs, I beg Clyn not to destroy the thing.  I find the battery, he puts it in and the thing WON'T STOP TWEETING!  It's actually getting funny to me now.  I send Jiffy in to Emma's room with her, partly to get her off our backs and to help calm the dog down.  Finally, Clyn pushes the TEST button again and we wait...Jacob says "Why did you push that AGAIIIIN?!"  We wait...and, nothing.  Sweet silence.  I am very proud of my hubby.  He fixed it!  Then, I'm thinking, if we can just all get back off to sleep again.  And then I'm thinking, I better run out asap and get some more 9 volts because you KNOW the rest of those suckers are gonna blow any minute!  And then,  I'm thanking God that we aren't spending the rest of the night in the ER!  Trust me when I say,  I had a little trouble dozing back off because I started "thinking" too much.

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How You Spell Relief: E-M-M-A

I'm heading out for my annual trip tomorrow.  I am SO excited.  And it is always wonderful.  And I am so blessed and thankful that I have my a sweet husband.  It's because of him that I am able to go.  He has to do a lot of things that he doesn't normally do while I am gone.  And that adds a lot to his already very full plate.  But, as excited as I always am about this trip, I become equally stressed about getting ready to leave.  Every year, without fail. For you people who have a j-o-b outside the home, it's kinda like this:   You know when you are getting ready to be gone from work for a few days and there is all the work you have to do BEFORE you leave in order to be gone.  And then you know all the work that will be piling up and waiting for you upon your return.  Well, it's kinda like that.  So, this evening, after I've spent all day making arrangements for the kids and sending emails to various school people and grocery shopping to be sure the house is well-stocked with junk food, paid bills, updated "the Pod" for the journey, done laundry, cleaned out the car, printed out directions, packed my stuff and blah blah blah....and then I'm cooking dinner, I'm kinda tired and trying to remember if I've forgotten anything major that needs taking care of before I am gone.  Suddenly, Emma says, "Hey Mom, can I take out the trash?"  WHAT?  Who is this kid?  "Of course.  Thanks baby!"  So Emma takes the trash out.  So sweet.  She comes back in and I'm standing at the stove.  She's standing next to me.  All of a sudden, in the background, I hear the Hannah Montana theme song cranking up on Disney channel..."You get the limo out front...Hottest styles, every shoe, every color..."  Suddenly, Emma starts rocking out.  I wish you could have seen her.  It was HYSTERICAL.  She was singing it and dancing around. "...Yeah, when you're famous it can be kinda fun...It's really you but no one ever discovers...Who would have thought that a girl like me...Could double as a super staaaaaar...You get the best of both worlds..."  About this time I was cracking up.  I had myself a little mini-Montana sprouting up right before my very eyes!  I had to sing along and rock out with her...it was contagious.  Then, a few minutes after the "show", I walked over to the pantry (for what, I do not know) and Emma comes up behind me and she says, "Mom, do you need a massage?" and she starts rubbing my shoulders!  I was like "YEAH! How did you know I needed that?"  She said, "Oh, you just looked a little tense."  Seriously.  My 9 yr old daughter told me I was looking tense!  She gave me a little shoulder rub...which was fabulous, by the way.  It's funny how your kids can read you like that.  Never, ever think for one minute that your kids don't know how you are feeling.  She read me LIKE A BOOK!  And she knew just the right thing that would make me feel better.  She is one amazing kid. 

So I'm off to the mountains.  Pray for Big Red.  She's got some miles to go to get me there! 

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"A daughter is the happy memories of the past, the joyful moments of the present, and the hope and promise of the future."  ~Author Unknown

"When in doubt, make a fool of yourself.  There is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth.  So what the hell, leap."  ~Cynthia Heimel, "Lower Manhattan Survival Tactics"

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My funny son.  Today, he has nicknamed his sister and her friend "Loud and Louder". 

And I have to say, I completely agree.  Except I might even go one step further and call them "Louder and Loudest". 

I realize they were only trying to have some fun, driving the Barbie car around the house, through the kitchen, through the computer room (right behind my noise sensitive child, no less), through the foyer...hollering all the while.  Literally hollering.  It's no exaggeration.  Who am I to try and stop a little 9-year-old girl fun?? Who am I to stop Barbie and her friends from driving right under my feet while I am slaving away over the post-sleepover pancakes and turkey bacon?  But then Jacob comes off with the Loud and Louder comment and all I could do was laugh.  Oh the things my kids say.

This afternoon, Emma and I went to a birthday party for one of the boys in her class.  It was held at the boy's church and there were gobs of people there...kids and adults.  Emma had asked me if I was going to stay at the party.  I think she was very afraid that she would be the only girl there.  We are getting to "that age", after all.  I told her I would stay if she really wanted me to.  (She did.)  Turns out there was only one other girl from their class there and the others were boys from their class and some other friends of the boy.  The other little girl's mom decided to stick around too.  They were going to play kickball, eat pizza and cake (when have I ever turned down cake??) and do presents, etc.  When they were picking teams for the kickball game, the birthday boy's mom asked if I was going to play.  I said sure, why not.  What's a little humiliation among a bunch of 9 and 10 yr olds?  No biggie. 

Keep in mind, I have not played kickball since I was probably in the 6th grade.  That was a little while ago.  And I don't know about all of y'all, but I have some pretty scarring kickball memories from back in the day.  It's like one of those recurring nightmares where you get up to kick and you totally miss the ball altogether and end up flat on your back (a la Charlie Brown---Aaaaarrrrrrgh!  Good grief! Darn you, Lucy!!) or you suddenly look down and realize you're in your underwear or you are the last pick or whatever.  I was never picked first.  Yeah, I know, boo hoo, poor me.  Granted I was not very athletic.  But I was always SO nervous when it was my kick.  Oh the pressure!  It's vastly different playing kickball as a 38 year old woman.  All that anxiety of looking like a fool is SO over.  I am a dorky gal, and proud of it!  And that, my friends, is quite liberating.

I had a blast today.  The mom of the other little girl and I were the only moms to play.  (The birthday boy's dad was "all time pitcher"...not a bad gig.  I forgot what a workout kickball could be!)She and I both agreed that it was so much fun.  Looking a fool and all! 

Oh to know then what I know now.  Be willing to look foolish.  Be willing to laugh at yourself.  Enjoy whatever it is you are doing in that moment.  Find the joy.  Take chances.  So what if you fall flat on your back when you take that chance.  What's the worst thing that could happen?  Get up and laugh at yourself and get on with the business of having fun.  You never have any fun if you walk around being scared all the time--You never have any fun AND you never learn anything.  Who knew you could learn so much from a game of kickball?

I'm not sure if Charlie Brown was persistent or just plain dumb.  Actually, I think he was really a very clinically depressed individual.  But, whatever.  At least he took the chance and believed that maybe, just maybe, TODAY would be the day he would actually get to kick that ball.

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"Many great ideas have been lost because the people who had them could not stand being laughed at."  ~Author Unknown

"Let the rain kiss you.  Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.  Let the rain sing you a lullaby."  ~Langston Hughes

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It's raining here today.  Rainy and 60 degrees.  You'll hear no complaining from me considering it was -24 in Iowa earlier this week.    YIKES!  We desperately still need the rain.

Got the pod on shuffle as I'm typing.  Luther Vandross followed by the Indigo Girls followed by Keith Green followed by Journey followed by the Dixie Chicks followed by Fantasia.  It's funny.  I love the pod.  I am feeling the need to have an iTrip thingy now so I can have my tunes in the car with me.   Here's some random information:  Did you know that Journey has a new lead singer? (sniff sniff, Steve Perry is "the man").  The new lead singer is a Filipino guy named Arnel Pineda formerly of the band called The Zoo. The dude can flat out sing. Here he is on youtube channeling Steve Perry singing Faithfully. Kinda freaky.

Jacob is on Day 4 of his second round of steroids.  He seems better.  The black circles are gone.  Steroids + less homework = less stress = more sleep.  It's good for everyone.  He looks more like himself.  He has an appointment to see the allergist for testing.  I haven't told Jacob yet.  Should be interesting.

In other news, it is that time of year again.  What time, you ask?  Time for my annual "mental health retreat", as I like to call it.  That magical second weekend of February.  And I don't mean Valentine's day.  Every year for the past 11 years, I have pilgrimaged to the mountains of NC for a weekend in February.  It's a women's retreat and I always go with my sweet friend Kathy and we join about 150 other ladies for a great combo of pajama party/quiet time/teaching/singing/silliness/sharing/refreshing/staying up too late/reflection.  I originally started going when we lived in Winston-Salem, NC while I was attending a women's Bible study in town and they sponsored this retreat.  I've been going ever since.  I find that my spiritual cup is feeling kinda empty around January and I always look forward to my weekend so it gets all filled up again.  I always expect great things!  It never fails that I feel equally exhausted and refreshed when I get back.  Come next Thursday, I'll be on my way!  Can't wait! 

But right now, I'm off to fulfill my "one box a day keeps the crazy away" promise!