my12hats

Goodbye to 2011.

2012-01-08T19:38:00.000-08:00

Throughout 2011, my mom said a phrase to me over and over again: "And wipe your feet on your way out the door."

It's a silly phrase, really. Per our Korean tradition, our girls wipe their feet and take off their shoes when they come into our home. On today's rainy Sunday morning, I watched person after person wipe their feet on the large black floor mats, put their umbrellas into the plastic bags that were available, shake the rain out of their hair, and walk into the church. My daughter often reminds me when we walk into a store, "Please be sweet and wipe your feet."

But... Who wipes their feet on their way out of a place?

I do. That's who.

Difficult things happened in 2011. Wonderful things happened too.

I got fired.
I lost friendships.
I lost hope.
I lost perspective.
I struggled through a bout of depression.
I sent my first child to kindergarten.
I served my husband after his painful knee injury.
I gained new friends.
I continued to mourn the loss of old friends.
I served at church.
I fell in love with my church.
I walked through healing and restoration.
I gained weight.
I gained knowledge.
I gained self-forgiveness.
I gained perspective.
I gained a dog.
I learned what I really want from life.
I learned that what I want doesn't matter nearly as much as what I'm willing to work for.
I learned to hope.

There are lessons that I hope to pick up and carry with me as I leave the year 2011.

Lessons about forgiveness.
About being planted in God's house.
About accepting what is.
About loving what isn't.
About the mark of a true friend.
About emotional boundaries.

But there are things I have walked through in 2011 that should be left schmeared on its doormat as I leave. Things that should be recognized as the [enter expletive here] that it is.

Lies that I believed about myself.
Cruel words - from my own lips and the lips of others.
Regret.
Leased out mental space.
Bitterness.
Unforgiveness.
Apathy.
Laziness.
Negativity.
Those things will have no place in 2012. They have taken up enough of my time and energy.

So if you'll pardon my mom's silly phrase, I'm excited - and deliberate - when I say: I'm wiping my feet on the way out the door.

Plans for Fall Break

2011-10-14T04:58:00.000-07:00

My husband is the fun-maker in our home. If I am home alone with the girls for a day, I think, "Oh good, we all get a day to relax." For me, it is a day of pajamas and movies and peanut butter sandwiches.

When my husband gets a day home with the girls, he thinks, "Awesome! We should ride our bikes and go to the zoo and end the day at Chuck E Cheese." (That last idea made me shudder. Ick!)

So next week is fall break. In the past, if we all have an entire week off, we head south to see family. But since Brandon just had surgery on his ACL, he is unable to ride that far.

Here's what I'm trying to say. Next week. All week. The whole family is home. Sweet Hubby - the fun-maker - is incapacitated. Oh, and did I mention that we have zero dollars in our budget for anything like the movies or museums? Yeah. I have been in a slight panic.

Since I'm not one to let panic "set in," I have devised a plan for each day next week. Here goes...

MONDAY - Decorate for fall day. I have several art projects with construction paper, finger paint, wax paper, etc. that the girls can do to decorate their room for fall. Chloe will love that she has some say in how her room is decorated, and Maple will love making a mess with all the paint.

TUESDAY - Library and blanket fort day. It's supposed to be rainy and yucky on Tuesday; so I thought we'd start the day (before the rain sets in) picking out fall books at the library. Then the girls can come home and build the biggest blanket fort EVER and read their books. (A movie might be included around nap time.)

WEDNESDAY - Pumpkin Pickin' Day. We're not going to a pumpkin patch this year because we don't want to do anything that leaves Sweet Hubby out of the festivities. So we're heading to the Farmer's Market to get our pumpkin supply. Since my girls are too little to carve the pumpkin themselves, we will get one big one for the whole family. Then we can get smaller pumpkins and gourds for them to color with permanent marker and/or paint.

THURSDAY - Ti-pi in the back yard day. I'm not really sure how this is going to work, but off the top of my head, I'm thinking a large sheet from Goodwill and my paint easel. I'm planning to spread the sheet on the ground and letting the girls paint it. Then I'll secure it to the easel and pile pillows and blankets under it for a fun play area outside.

FRIDAY - Cooking with mommy day. We'll start the day with pancakes (which Chloe would do by herself if I would let her). Then we'll make a batch of sugar cookies and make these fall leaves.

Each day will probably have some reading/study time with daddy and some down time in front of a movie. But it's nice to have some activities planned outside of the normal daily flow.

What about you? What are you planning for fall break?

Four Simple Things...

2011-10-10T09:18:00.000-07:00

It's October 10th. Seriously. October. Tenth. Two Thousand and Eleven.

Gahhh...

It's also 11:18am, and I have spent the majority of my morning making lists. They are titled things like: "THINGS I DON'T LIKE ABOUT MY HOUSE THAT I DO HAVE THE ABILITY TO CHANGE" and "THINGS I WANT TO REDUCE IN MY LIFE" and "THINGS I WANT TO INCREASE IN MY LIFE" and "THINGS THAT SMELL FUNNY." That last one was a joke. Just making sure you're still with me.

I have also hopped around different websites creating a cleaning schedule for myself and my kids. (I can't believe they are actually old enough to start helping me. Crazy!)

I would have also made a list for Sweet Hubby, but it's almost basketball season. He's a coach. I think he'll have enough on his hands.

I said AAAALLLLL that to say this: Today begins...

21 DAYS OF ALL THINGS GOOD.

My final list is comprised of certain things that I know I can start doing RIGHT NOW and maintain for at least 21 days. I'm not saying these things will happen every day for the rest of my life, or even for the next 22 days. But I'm saying I can do them for 21 days, and I'm hoping that at least some of them will stick around longer.

So without further ado...

21 DAYS OF ALL THINGS GOOD:

1. Reuse, re-purpose. When I kick off a new cleaning routine, I tend to use one foot to clean and the other foot to spend. (Get it? Kick? Foot? Hehe...) Not this time. This time, if I see an organization need, I will scour my house and storage for an item that can be reused or re-purposed to meet that need. My goal: to spend LESS THAN $10 in the next 21 days on organization items.

2. All things done by 3pm. As you can probably tell by now, I am a list person. Heck, I spent half my day today making lists and not actually accomplishing anything ON those lists. So I'm giving myself a deadline: Each day, that day's list MUST be completed by 3pm or it doesn't get done. No more surfing the web for two hours in the morning only to stay up past bedtime to complete my list. No more reading a good book during the day, only to ignore my family while I clean the house in the evening. If it's not done by 3pm, it's not getting done.

3. Goodbye, sweets! For the last several mornings, my breakfast/lunch/snack routine has been comprised of whatever delectable sweetness happens to be sitting on my counter. Donuts, pie, cookies, more donuts, more pie... and I'm thinking that might not be the most healthy of choices. Sweet Hubby cut out sweets on October 1st, which left even MORE sweets to be consumed in our house. Ick. So for the next 21 days, I will fall in line beside him and cut out sweets.

4. Clean as I go. I will pick up after myself. If I have a cup of coffee while sitting on the couch, I will take that empty cup to the sink when I get up. If I do my art on the coffee table, I will return all art supplies to the craft room when I'm done. It sounds simple, but I'm here to tell you that if this is the ONLY item on my list that I actually STICK with in the next 21 days, it will be life changing.

That's it. Four things. Reuse and Re-purpose, get everything done by 3pm, no more sweets, and pick up after myself.

More to come...

10 Things That Happened Since We Last Talked

2011-09-21T07:15:00.001-07:00

It seems that no matter how many blogs I start and stop, I always come back to this one. It's home, I suppose. My constant. No real theme, just life. And I like it that way.

So much has happened since I last wrote.

1. I lost my job. It was difficult, and hurtful, and I'm still reeling from the sudden change.

2. I decided to stay home for now, and it has been the BEST decision. I'm really loving it.

3. I took a 12-hour-per-week "job" at a Mom's Day Out program. It's basically a chance for Maple and I to get out of the house a couple times a week, and it's working really well. I love the kids/babies I work with, and the supportive and loving atmosphere of the ministry is exactly what I needed after the fallout with my previous job.

4. Hubby and I decided to do a part-time internship at our church. If you haven't heard, The Life Church is AWESOME! Here's a video that depicts exactly what we're about: video. Yeah, B and I are pretty stoked about being a part of changing this city. We (The Life Church) will be feeding over 1,000 children in our city by the end of the year. Yeah, you read that right. There is so much more to say about this. More to come...

5. Chloe started Kindergarten. She is soooo cut out for the classroom setting. Lots of routine. Lots of rules like, "You get what you get and you don't pitch a fit." Or, "Hand on your hips and finger on your lips." She goes around the house trying to get Maple to follow suit... Maple isn't as happy to comply as her older sister is.

6. I'm selling my art. Well, I'm attempting to. I have sold one piece of refinished furniture, and I have a festival coming up in a couple weeks. I'm a little bit super excited.

7. Hubby tore his ACL in a basketball game. I waited on him hand and foot for about a week; then I said, "Get your booty off the couch and do something with your life!"... Okay, the truth is that he is so eager to be self-reliant again that he's not going nearly as slowly as I would like. He pushes himself in physical therapy, and his bum knee has barely slowed him down at all. He's pretty awesome.

8. Chloe will be five soon. *sigh*

9. We got a dog. Her name is Sophie. At the Animal Shelter, they named her "Trouble." Now I know why. You can read more about Sophie here.

10. I suppose I'm blogging again. That's noteworthy, right?

Spent

2011-06-23T08:14:00.001-07:00

"Work/life balance."

"Have it all."

"The best of both worlds."

"Working mom."

What a load of crock.

Sorry.

It has been a rough week.

But honestly, are there any mom's in the world who are happy with this new "normal"? Get up early to get just a few minutes of quiet. Rush to get the kids clean, dressed, fed, and out the door. Oh, and they should probably be happy. Yeah. That's important.

Sit at a desk all day, working for a paycheck.

Go home, exhausted. Figure out what's for dinner. Play with the kids. Try to stay engaged and upbeat (at least until bedtime). Clean up after dinner. Make sure everybody has clean clothes for the morning. Take the dog for a walk. Maintain a decent conversational flow with the husband. Try to stay awake past 9pm. Have s*x (even if you're exhausted, because it's what good wives do). Close your eyes and then remember - forgot to let the dog out one last time. Get up, let the dog out. Check email, just in case. Fight the dog as she goes back in her crate. Crash into bed. Realize it's midnight, and you will only be getting 5 hours of sleep tonight.

Start it all over again the next morning.

Really?

This is the dream?

This is "having it all"?

REALLY???!

Okay, in all fairness, I have it easy for a "working mom."

My office pays a nanny to watch the kids right down the hall from me. I get to see them whenever I want.

I have two beautiful, healthy, well-adjusted little girls who are (mostly) easy to parent.

Sweet Hubby does more than most men I know for the home and family. (I can't even remember the last time I had to wash dishes or do laundry.) Plus, since he's a teacher, he comes and gets the girls from work 2-3 days a week in the summer.

My job is from 8:30-4:30, with very flexible paid time off.

Our dog has a nice big back yard she can run around in (and burn off some energy).

But even more than that...

I have clean water to drink and bathe in.

I sleep in air conditioned comfort.

I have healthcare and doctors who are well trained.

I have food in my pantry.

I have a bed.

I have a roof.

I have a family who loves me.

I have friends who support me.

I realize. I do. That there is so much to be grateful for.

But I'm spent.

Every last penny of energy, ability, willingness - spent.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Here we go again...

2011-06-13T08:36:00.000-07:00

I'm starting a new blog. Again.

I have actually been working on it for the past several weeks (hence, the lack of updates here), and I'm super excited about it.

No worries, folks. My12hats is sticking around for days when I want to write about family or spiritual stuff.

But I'm turning my focus to... well... cooking. Yum!

To hear about my new "friendship" with Paula Deen, go here: http://kitchinbliss.blogspot.com.

As always, thanks for stopping by!

The late sleeper and the early riser.

2011-04-13T03:23:00.000-07:00

It's 5:30am, and I'm just finishing my first cup of coffee. Maple stayed up late last night; so she won't be awake for a while.

Oh, nothing in our schedule changed.

Around 6:45pm we started putting on PJ's and washing hands and faces. Brushing teeth. Giving kisses. Quieting down.

By 7:15pm, both girls were in the bed. Lights out.

Around 7:30pm, I heard Maple singing and kicking the wall. Nothing new. She often sings herself to sleep (much to the chagrin of her older sister, with whom she shares a room).

Around 8:00pm, I heard a bump in the night. Since I was drowning in a sea of half-folded clothes, I yelled, "Get back in bed!" Silence.

A few more bumps. A few more threats. This is better than last night, I thought. Last night, I caught her sneaking out of her bedroom on all fours, flashlight in hand, crawling into the playroom.

Finally, around 10:00pm, I went to check on them before heading going to sleep myself. As part of our nightly routine, the girls and I tidy up their room. Books in place. Dirty clothes in the basket. Shoes in the closet.

Imagine my surprise when I open the door to this:

I left her there for a while. I knew daddy would come in soon and check on them, and I wanted to make sure he got the same chuckle I did. Ah, the joys of raising a toddler.

But now it's 5:33am. Not even the birds are stirring yet. It's 50 degrees outside, and there is a light breeze. I'm making hot chocolate and taking a few quilts outside to the lawn chairs.

I've been missing Chloe these days. I mean, we have been together, in location. But I'm feeling a bit disconnected from her. I want to know her little heart, and I want her little heart to know she is important to me.

So at 5:45, I'm going to sneak into her room and stroke her hair. I'm going to whisper for her to come down out of the top bunk. I'm going to help her slide her arms through her jacket sleeves and slide her little toes into a pair of pink socks.

And we're going to watch the sun rise.

Thank you, Jesus, for early mornings.

Say THAT five times fast...

2011-04-12T03:52:00.001-07:00

Lord, thank you for freedom. Thank you that I walk in victory. Thank you that, in you, I am the head and not the tail. I am above and not beneath. Thank you that, by your stripes I am healed and set free.

I am a daughter of the High King. A princess in the Heavenly royal court. My inheritance is eternity, freedom, power, victory.

I wear the Helmet of Salvation. My mind is protected from bondage, deceit, malice, judgment - anything less than the freedom that comes through salvation.

I wear the Breastplate of Righteousness. Christ is holy; therefore I am holy. Christ is righteous; therefore I am righteous. Accusations from my past, words and judgments and old reputations - they are powerless. They hit my breastplate - the righteousness I wear in Christ, my undeniable right-standing with God - and they dissipate, evaporate, like they never existed.

I wear the Shoes of the Gospel of Peace, leaving footprints of Jesus' blood - evidence of His love and mercy - everywhere I step. My footing is sure, my steps deliberate, and my path laid before me by the Holy Spirit. I do not fear a stumble or a fall, for whether I sit or stand, walk or crawl, run ahead or lag behind, I carry Christ's gospel - the power of grace, mercy, and forgiveness - with me.

I hold in front of me the Shield of Faith. I am not afraid to advance, to step onto the field of battle, to move forward into unknown territory. Because of faith, I am allowed to love without regret. Because of faith, I can hope without fear. Because of faith, I move forward in this knowledge - if God is for me, who can stand against me?

In my right hand, I hold the Sword of the Spirit - the Word of God. It is the double-edged sword that both pierces through my own masks and fears and assumptions, and also cuts off the heads of the giants and the serpents. The truth of this sword cuts to pieces the lies of my enemies. It changes my position from offense to defense. I am not a victim; I am a victor. I am no longer under attack; I am the attacker. I am no longer the prey; I am the hunter.

With this armor, I am victorious. As a daughter of the King, THIS is my inheritance. Through Christ, THIS is my right. I am free. I am free. I am free.

Do I live a life that requires God?

2011-04-11T10:14:00.000-07:00

This question has been haunting me over the past few weeks.

So much of my life is manageable. Doable. Acheivable. Feed the kids. Wash the clothes. Put gas in the car. Be nice at work. Be nice at home. Make the beds. Answer the emails. Cook the meals. Play the games.

Sure, there are days when that list seems overwhelming. Still, it's just... life.

I am not attempting anything daring or impossible. Nothing out of my comfort zone or beyond my own strength.

Out of obedience to the Lord, I am getting up early (most mornings), cleaning out the junk (except in my car), eating healthier (at breakfast), and shutting my mouth (except when I'm not).

These things seem so simple. Manageable. Doable. Acheivable.

Until they're not.

Until I forget that I need Him.

Until I stop spending my early mornings with him.

Until I think for one moment that I'm strong enough to do these manageable, doable, acheivable tasks on my own.

And the things is - from the outside looking in - a day when I rely on Him doesn't look much different from a day when I do.

My car still gets messy. I still fall asleep on the couch too early. I still down half a pan of monkey bread all by myself. Emails go unanswered. Things get said that shouldn't.

Technically speaking, my days with Him aren't very different from my days without Him.

Except for two things. Two things that, for me, make all the difference in the world.

Two things: grace and hope.

Grace reassures me of His love, despite my failures. Grace picks me up and dusts me off and tells me that all fall short. All. Everybody. Including me. Especially me.

Grace reminds me that I'm not known for my shortcomings. I'm known by His gift. His life. His sacrifice. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Grace tells me who I am, regardless of what I do.

And hope...

Hope lifts my head. Hope directs my sight. Hope shows me what is possible in Him. Hope reminds me that today is only a moment - and tomorrow has great promises.

Hope means I won't always be overweight. My home won't always be a wreck. My words won't always get me into trouble. My life won't always be an unfinished list.

The harsh truth is that without grace and hope, I fail. The harsher truth is that with grace and hope, I fail.

But with God's grace, today's failures don't define me. And with God's hope, tomorrow's successes are possible.

So, yes, I need God today. Even if it's just to organize a closet. Even if it's just to get dinner on the table on time. Even if it's just to live life.

Especially if it's just to live life.

5:45am

2011-04-02T04:37:00.000-07:00

It's Saturday morning, and I am awake at 5:45am. There was a time in my life that I would have thought such an early Saturday morning was downright ungodly.

But now... now I revel in the cool, dark, quiet house that eases me into the day. It's as if I have been transported to another dimension - one where adults are allowed to finish a cup of coffee, or a chapter in a book, or (oh Heaven!) a blog. In this world, house work is easy and quick. Time with the Lord and in the Word is uninterrupted. The soul is soothed by the sound of the clocks ticking, the fan whirring, and the deep breathing of little ones in their beds.

I love that when Maple (always the early riser) stumbles out of her room and shields her eyes from the lamp light, I am there to greet her with a smile and a cuddle. I love that I have had time to gather my wits and determine that today - this morning - will not be rushed or stressful.

Bags are often packed before little feet hit the carpet. Breakfast is enjoyed together at the table. Getting dressed becomes a game and an excuse to snuggle. Fixing hair (no longer a race to remove tangles) is a discussion about hair styles and which bow matches.

I feel like I can breathe. Like I can love. And it's all because of 5:45 on a Saturday morning.

Not every morning is like this. I still have morning when fight to get out of bed before 7:15am. I still have mornings where I hit the snooze button more often than I should. And I still have mornings that are full of "hurry up" and "why aren't you dressed yet?"

But those rushed and fitful mornings only make me more grateful for right now. For sitting on my couch with a cup of coffee. For blogging. For listening to the birds and the clocks and the deep breathing. For peace.

Psalm 143:8
Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life.

Werd.

2011-03-23T08:48:00.000-07:00

I know you've been holding your breath since my last post. What could Brandy possibly be leading up to? you ask yourself. I'm on the edge of my seat with the anticipation of reading her follow-up post.

I know, friends. I know.

Now brace yourselves because, alas, the follow up must be postponed.

Try to pull yourself together and be consoled by the fact that it will come soon.... Soon I can let you in on the project that has consumed so much of my time and energy... but not today.

Today I plan to blog about housekeeping and schedules and routines. Please try to stifle your collective groans.

So I have been attempting to wake up at 5am each morning. Honestly, most mornings, I am awake before that time anyways. However, there are some mornings when I am forced to drag my tired body and heavy eyelids out of bed so I can stumble into the morning.

Why would you choose to start your day so early? you ask. Especially when you don't have to be at work until 8:30am?

Good question. And one I can answer in three simple words: God said so.

Seriously. No, I can't find scripture to back it up. No, I will not commence a 12-point-sermon on the importance of being the Early Bird (trust me, I have enough worms already... more on that later).

Now you don't have to believe me on this. And maybe you've never experienced anything like this before. But the truth is this: God woke me up at 3am several weeks ago and said, "Get out your iphone. You're going to need to take some notes."

Surrreeeuhslay.

I have only heard the Lord's voice that clearly one other time in my life. The first time it was emotional, gut-wrenching, convicting, and life-changing.

This time it was gentle, almost professional, convicting, and life-changing.

I have held onto His words for several weeks now, debating whether or not I should share it with all of society (or, you know, the 7 people who read my blog). I have, to this point, only shared it with a handful of close friends. But for those who have heard it, they too have been impacted.

So, after prayerful consideration, here is (most of) what the Lord told me:

Your ministry to your home is priority. It is your energy tithe to me. I want the first 10% of your day spent focused on your home.

You are going to have to started getting up at 5am. [5:00am - 7:30am is 2.5 hours, approximately 10% of my day!] Use this time for loving your husband in housework and meal prep, and loving your children in your time and patience. Don't be afraid to read books, go outside and play, go for walks, talk about me, cook breakfast together, or leave the house early and go to the park. These times will become your cherished time with them. Be jealous of this time. Protect it. I will use it and bless it. This small amount of time, when dedicated in obedience to me, will be the greatest display of love to your children. They will grow in the knowledge that they are VIPs. They are loved first, and not fourth or fifth. This is your daily offering to me.

For Brandon, answer his phone calls. Listen to his day. Love and support his job because that is part of who he is. And show him that he is priority by preparing your home for peace.

This home will be a respite for you both. Take care of it. Love it as a symbol of love for each other. Don't keep score. Don't bicker over chores and things that don't matter. Do every chore as an offering to me, not a to-do list forced upon you in slavery. You are free to love me this way. You are designed to love me this way. It will bring you joy and peace and room for love. And I am pleased.

Go to bed on time. Your evenings will no longer be your time to clean or work on your home. Go to bed with a messy house. See it as a symptom of love and memories and a family full of life. Then wake up refreshed and ready to reset the stage in which you will perform the acts of love for your family.

You will set the tone for your home over the coming weeks. Schedules will change. Calendars will fill up. You will be busy. But - this is very important - you do not have to be hurried. You will be busy, but you do not have to be hurried. You will be busy, but you do not have to be hurried. Allow plenty of time for what you need to do. Be early. Start before you think you need to start. This will be crucial to the atmosphere of your home because - hear me on this - you cannot love in a hurry.

Remember to seek me and my Kingdom. Remember the bottom line - to love me and love others. Everything else. Every. Thing. Else. is temporary.

Know your worth. Know that you are called to more. I will set you free. That thing that holds you captive has lost its charm. I have disarmed it. You need only to walk away. Walk into my arms. Let me walk with you. I have given you the power of life and death; so speak love to yourself. Speak love to your body and your appetite. You are created for this - to glorify me with your temple. So speak love. Your tongue is the mighty weapon with which this battle will be won.

Know that I love you. Know that I am for you. Know that these offerings are pleasing to me. Your life is pleasing to me. Walk in that knowledge. Love in that knowledge. Bless in that knowledge. Worship in that knowledge. Live your life - full as it is - in that knowledge.

I. Love. You.

More to come...

Dropping Anchor

2011-03-09T09:42:00.000-08:00

I have called many places home in my last seven years. Although, I suppose, if my hubby and I ever talk about "home," we're referring to Athens, GA - the place we were raised and where most of our family still lives. But even when we were dating, and in our early months of marriage, we knew we wouldn't be in Athens forever.

All of our "homes" have been transient. For a season. Temporary.

And I have loved this life. I have loved knowing that my family is not called to plant roots in anything (or any place) except the Kingdom. I have reveled in the idea of a new horizon, a new city, a new landscape, a new me.

But the thing about being transient is that it's hard to lay claim to anything. It's difficult to invest in something that is fleeting, you know? I tend to maintain surfacey friendships if I know the person will be leaving me (or vice versa) in the near future. I don't hang pictures on the walls of a house if I have to patch the holes a few months later. I know it's temporary; so I wait. I know it's only for a season; so I watch the seasons change. I don't drop anchor; I just look for the next big wave to carry me away.

That's the safe thing to do, you know. It's easier to never hang pictures than mess with putty when you move. It's easier to leave the boxes upacked than to repack them later. It's easier to love a little than lose a lot.

It wasn't until my seventh month in Korea when I realized how much that mentality permeated every area of my home. My relationships. My life. It's as if the Lord opened my eyes to what I was missing - who I was missing.

I suddenly realized that, with my roots firmly planted in the Kingdom of God, I was free (and required) to love people and places with reckless abandon. It could never be wasted. I might be abandoned by people, but the love that I gave (and lost) would be invested in a far greater place and Person. I committed in those last three months that I would give 100% of myself in those relationships and people. And I have not regretted one moment of that investment.

Fast forward a year (give or take).

It's December 2010.

I'm living in Memphis, my new temporary home. Chick Nite at The Life Church. Minding my own business. Expecting to have some fun. Riding the waves.

Then the speaker began to throw out some random statistics:

"Memphis, TN was recently named the Hungriest City in America."

What's that?

"26% of people in Memphis could not afford to buy food for their families in the last 12 months."

Come again?

"83% of people who come to the Food Bank have to choose between paying for food or paying for utilities."

"32% had to choose between food and rent or mortage payments."

I feel like I can't breathe.

"One area of Memphis has one of the highest infant mortality rates in the country - nearly twice the national average."

I'm heartbroken.

Then she told a story that haunted me - that night, and several nights since then.

For Christmas, our church gave out live Christmas trees (among other things) in one of the most impoverished areas of our city. They came complete with decorations and lights - as any Christmas tree should.

When they arrived at one home, the mother said, "We don't need the lights. We don't have any electricity."

Her little boy turned to her and said, "But Mom, can we please get them anyways? It will make it feel more like Christmas."

That night, it was 12 degrees in Memphis.

Twelve. Degrees.

And here is a family without heat.

Only 10 miles from my house.

Where I snuggled in a warm bed.

My heater turned on 70 degrees.

My pantry full of food.

Leftovers in the garbage.

My two healthy, happy children deep breathing in their beds.

I wouldn't have known that it was twelve degrees outside if I hadn't looked it up on one of my two laptops.

Yeah.

I didn't sleep at all that night.

I saw the anchor splashing into the waves.

I felt the ground shift beneath my feet as the roots began to creep their way through.

I knew I couldn't live in this place - in this city - without investing.

Fast forward to today...

(come back soon for Part 2)

2011-02-22T09:22:00.000-08:00

A few days ago, Cindy Beall posted a recap of what the Lord has done in her life since her world fell apart 9 years ago. If you don't know her story, check it out here. (You can also check out her book, which will be on shelves soon.)

At the end of her post, she asked a simple question: What sort of amazing fruit have trials produced in your life?

I left a comment without thinking much about it. Then I went back to proofread my comment. Then I read it again. And again.

By my fourth time through it, I was crying as I realized how very good the Lord has been to me.

I whined and complained. I argued and bickered. I doubted His love, and I doubted His goodness. I asked him to save me from my circumstances. I bargained and begged. I didn't talk to Him for a while. Then I worked my tail off to "earn" the answer I wanted.

And he brought me to a place where I finally had to say, "I'd rather have you." Even if everything I believed about Him was a lie. Even if He wasn't good. Even if He only loved me a little bit. Even if I could never earn my way. Even if I would live in poverty and debt for the rest of my life. Even if my marriage and life was destined for mediocrity. I would still rather have Him.

And out of that moment - the moment when I realized He really is all that I have - He birthed a new desire. No longer all I have, He is truly and undeniably all I want.

See the comment I left on Cindy's blog below:

As Christians who attended (and volunteered at) church regularly, my husband and I had the same dream – to make a lot of money and retire early. We set about purchasing properties in our hometown, with the desire to either rent them or turn them over for profit. Right after we bought our second property, the economy went to pot, and we found ourselves $35k in debt (not including the mortgages) with very little income to live on.

That was when we finally turned to the Lord and said, “What do we do?” The Lord sent us to South Korea, where we taught English at a church and made less income than we had ever made in our lives.

He taught us to live on a budget, and to live a minimalist lifestyle. We realized that we didn’t need “stuff” in order to be happy. Actually, we realized the opposite. We learned that the “stuff” (and the financial burden that came with it) was preventing us from following God’s will for our life.

We have been back in the states for 13 months and, out of obedience to Christ, we are currently renting a small home, living TV- and Internet-Free, and using every extra penny to pay off our debt. We have never been more at peace, and we are looking forward to the day when all of our time and money can be dedicated 100% to the Kingdom (and not to our credit card bills).

I love love love that the Lord removes our support, leads us into the desert, and slays us with thirst – only to have us lean on Him, hide in His love, and drink of His goodness. (Hosea 2).

Thank you for sharing your life, Cindy, and for helping me remember what He has done in mine.

.......

From Hosea 2...

She said, ‘I will go after my lovers, who give me my food and my water, my wool and my linen, my olive oil and my drink.’ Therefore I will block her path with thornbushes; I will wall her in so that she cannot find her way. She will chase after her lovers but not catch them; she will look for them but not find them.

"Therefore I will take away my grain when it ripens, and my new wine when it is ready. I will take back my wool and my linen, intended to cover her naked body. So now I will expose her lewdness before the eyes of her lovers; no one will take her out of my hands.

I will stop all her celebrations: her yearly festivals, her New Moons, her Sabbath days—all her appointed festivals.
I will ruin her vines and her fig trees, which she said were her pay from her lovers; I will make them a thicket, and wild animals will devour them.

I will punish her for the days she burned incense to the Baals; she decked herself with rings and jewelry, and went after her lovers, but me she forgot,” declares the LORD.

“Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of [Trouble] a door of hope. There she will respond (or sing) as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt.

“In that day,” declares the LORD, “you will call me ‘my husband’; you will no longer call me ‘my master.’

I will plant her for myself in the land; I will show my love to the one I called ‘Not my loved one.
’
I will say to those called ‘Not my people’: ‘You are my people’;and they will say, ‘You are my God.’”

A Boring Update or Two

2011-02-16T11:45:00.001-08:00

First of all, I want to sincerely thank those of you who responded to my last post. I am reminded more and more every day that this Christian life isn't meant to be lived alone. What affects the part, affects the whole, and I am SO BLESSED to have such amazing women in my life who take time out of their own busy schedules to give advice and send encouragement across the miles.

I did delete that post, in case you're wondering. I mainly posted it as a way of asking for some much-needed advice, but I don't want it to cause any harm to anyone who may read my blog in the future. So I took it down.

Still, I very much appreciate those of you who read and prayed and commented. Your input meant more to me than words can say.

In other news, just a few updates today:

1. I have almost completed going through the girls' clothes. We went from 4 FULL laundry baskets to two (including towels and blankets). I have one last load to wash and sort before I take yet another run to Goodwill.

2. I plan to tackle the kitchen next. We have too many dishes, and the amount of time that we spend washing them is ridiculous. I plan to narrow us down to six dinner plates, six coffee mugs, six bowls, and that's it. I'll probably end up clearing out some mixing bowls and a few small appliances too.

3. I know this is a boring post... I'm bored writing it...

...But these small steps bring me closer to the lifestyle the Lord has called us to lead in this season of our lives.

Last night, I got home at 6:30pm. I put the girls to bed. I worked on organizing clothes until 10pm. And I went to bed. And I'm still not finished. And I probably won't be finished until this weekend. And then it will all start again on Monday.

All that time and energy put into things that don't matter - things that won't last.

Brandon and I covet our time. We want to invest in our children, in each other, in God's kingdom, in things that last and matter.

We don't want to waste our time arranging and rearranging things we don't need and things that don't last.

So, yes, we're in a boring phase. There is nothing fun or exciting about sorting through 12 pair of leggings and trying to figure out which three to keep.

But when we're done. When everything is combed through. When every area of our home is at maximum use with minimum maintenance. Then we can start talking about more important (and more exciting) things.

Until then, friends, I hope you're prepared for all the cliff-hanging, soul-searching, breath-taking excitement that can come from a mountain of laundry and a sink full of dishes.

2 Corinthians 5

1-5For instance, we know that when these bodies of ours are taken down like tents and folded away, they will be replaced by resurrection bodies in heaven—God-made, not handmade—and we'll never have to relocate our "tents" again. Sometimes we can hardly wait to move—and so we cry out in frustration. Compared to what's coming, living conditions around here seem like a stopover in an unfurnished shack, and we're tired of it! We've been given a glimpse of the real thing, our true home, our resurrection bodies! The Spirit of God whets our appetite by giving us a taste of what's ahead. He puts a little of heaven in our hearts so that we'll never settle for less.

6-8That's why we live with such good cheer. You won't see us drooping our heads or dragging our feet! Cramped conditions here don't get us down. They only remind us of the spacious living conditions ahead. It's what we trust in but don't yet see that keeps us going. Do you suppose a few ruts in the road or rocks in the path are going to stop us? When the time comes, we'll be plenty ready to exchange exile for homecoming.

Movin' and Shakin' and Groovin' and Bakin'

2011-01-31T14:30:00.001-08:00

We moved this weekend.

Yup. Moved out of our apartment (which we have loved) into a house (which we love more).

We have a yard. We have enough bedrooms for our growing family. We have less square footage, which we actually kind of like. We have a sidewalk. We have a little humming neighborhood.

And we have stuff. Lots and lots of stuff.

You may remember my 2011 Resolution to prepare my life for whatever God has next for us. A huge part of that means weeding out all the unnecessary “junk” that’s cluttering up my life – in my car, in my house, in my heart.

Although I haven’t updated the progress here much, I have taken no fewer than THREE carloads of “stuff” to Goodwill, and I have a fourth awaiting my attention at the apartment right now.

I was quite proud of that accomplishment.

Was.

I was proud until, well, we moved.

Boxes upon boxes. Bags upon bags. Stuff. Stuff. And more stuff.

They guys (who were gracious enough to help us move) could barely fit all the stuff in my living room.

It was piled high. And two days later, I am still going through boxes and bags of – you guessed it – stuff.

Decorations. Dishes. “Might-use-this-someday’s.” And clothes. OH! The clothes!!!

My husband (who was oh-so-sick the day of the move) accidentally mixed the clean and dirty clothes into the same bags. We have no way of telling what’s what; so all of our clothes – every single article of what we currently wear – are piled in the hallway outside our laundry room.

Y’all.

Y’all.

We cannot see the carpet in our entire hallway. And the pile, at some points, is over 3 feet high.

I’m ashamed to say that doesn’t even include the BOXES of clothes that are stored away for spring and summer.

Ugh.

In Korea, we had one outfit for each day, a couple sets of play clothes, and one “nice” outfit for church. I had two pair of shoes. Two. Pair. Of. Shoes.

A white pair for spring and summer. A black pair for fall and winter.

Surrr-eee-uhs-lay.

Now, I can’t find room for my shoes. My hallway is full (FULL!) of clothes.
And I started thinking about all the time my hubby and I spend on laundry alone. The washing and drying (and the electricity bills that come with it). The folding. The ironing. The putting away. The sorting. The digging. The searching for something to wear amidst the umpteen stacks that fill our drawers and closets.

If you don’t see where this is going, lem’me spell it out for ya. We’re going all-out Korean style, and this seems as good a time as any. As we wash (and re-wash) our pile(s) of clothes, I will be choosing 7-10 “outfits” for the girls, 1-2 “church dresses,” and a couple sets of pajamas.

Hubby and I will have even less (since we often wear the same outfit to work/play/church).

I’m ditching the shoes.

Yup. I’ll probably end up with more than 2 pair, but definitely not more than 4 or 5 (goodbye, lovely shiny red pumps that I would love to wear again someday but don’t have anything to match you now).

Stay tuned, I might take some before/after pictures, if I can swallow my pride for a minute.

A few more updates:

1. We are still TV-free and loving it. When Chloe is tired, she will occasionally ask when we’re going to get a TV. Those moments are just that – moments. They last only a few seconds before she takes off into her imaginary world of talking butterflies and giants and heroines and damsels in distress. Maple doesn’t seem to notice a difference. (In the name of full disclosure, for a couple afternoons a week, we do have a DVD player in the car that the girls watch on our 30-minute commute.)

2. While we’re not all-organic, chemical-free… we’re getting there. I’m still poo free (for the most part). I make a couple loaves of whole wheat bread each week, along with a couple batches of healthy granola. The girls are snacking on raw fruits and veggies and only ask for chips/cookies/etc. if they know we have them in the house. Otherwise, they don’t seem to miss them.

3. I’m not losing weight. Like, at all. But I am eating healthier and binging less. Hubby and I started P90X (aka: Excersize created in the pit of Hell) last night. Progress is progress, yo. Don’t hate.

So that’s it. May your week be filled with smiles and bubbles and sidewalk chalk.

The Korean Adventurer

2011-01-04T09:18:00.000-08:00

I find myself lost in nostalgia today. My dear friend Kathryn and her family are heading to South Korea in the next 24 hours to begin a year-long work that God has called them to.

I'm am so excited for them. More excited than words can say. Living overseas is one of those life-changing, soul-searching, faith-building, family-uniting, God-ordained things that cannot fully be put into words. It is impossible to walk away from an experience like that unaltered. And I know they will look back on these memories as precious, cherished, beautiful times.

As I read her blog and talk with her on the phone, I find myself reliving the 24 hours before our own departure.

I was in a panic. I had never been to Korea and had no idea what to pack. I was trying to fit our entire life (including a month's supply of diapers and toiletries) into 4 suitcases, and I was failing miserably.

I was saying what "goodbye's" had not already been said by that point. I was desperately grasping for some calm in the midst of chaos.

Then I think about the airport. My mother was crying. My husband was focused. My children were content. I was... excited.

For the 3.5 of us boarding the plane, our nerves were so jittery, none of us slept for the entire 16-hour flight. The flight attendant served my bi-bim-bap. This was my first Korean dish.

When we arrived in Seoul, Pastor Kim and his lovely wife picked us up. While we all wanted to be friendly and conversational, my family and I all fell sound asleep on the hour-long ride to our new home.

A crowd of kind-faced Samonims greeted us at the entrance to our apartment building. We were so amazed at how these little, happy women carried our massive luggage up three flights of stairs to our second story apartment. We opened the door to our wood-floor, large-window, brightly-lit apartment. There were balloons on the windows and "American style" bread on the table. A hand-made glittered poster board read: "Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God." A few dishes, no doubt donated by the Samonims, were sitting on the kitchen counters. And several large bottles of water cooled in the fridge.

Our Korean-style bedding was lying on the warmed floor in the master bedroom. A dark burgundy leather couch sat against the wall of our living room.

I was exhausted. Completely foggy-brained. I remember looking at the Samonims, who were watching us with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, and profusely repeating one of the few words I had learned on the plane ride over: Kam-sa-ham-ni-da. Thank you.

Chloe, exhausted and overwhelmed, cried herself to sleep that night.

We awoke early the next morning to a pink princess alarm clock Pastor Kim had given us: "Good morning, Princess. Good morning, Princess."

And the adventure began.

Our first visit to the church (where, in all my pregnant glory, I fell down an icy set of stairs).

Our first trip to the grocery store.

Our first unaccompanied trip to the grocery store.

The first snow fall.

The first time I met Easter.

The first time I was invited into a Samonim's house.

The first time an American friend visited us. (Shout out to Ansley!)

The first time we toured Seoul.

Our first meal at a restaurant.

Chloe's first Korean word.

Learning to bow.

Learning to read.

Learning to live.

Each memory could be an entire post all on its own.

We learned to love the adventure that was outside our front door. We learned to cherish the respite that was our warm apartment. We learned to let go of our agendas and cleave to the relationships that mattered most.

It was hard. It was challenging. It stretched me further than I ever thought I could go.

But it was beautiful. And it was dear. And it's an experience I will live over and over again in my heart and mind.

Kathryn, my dear friend, I'm so thrilled for you and your family. You are constantly in my thoughts and prayers. May God's presence feel near, His direction clear, His works evident, and His heart revealed.

2011 - Part 2

2011-01-03T11:48:00.000-08:00

I've been trying to decide how to tell you about my "resolutions" for 2011. You see, they're not true "resolutions." More ideas. Thoughts. Feelings. Beliefs.

I could tell you that I Resolve to Be More Organized. But the truth goes much deeper than that.

Two months ago, after receiving a heartbreaking bit of news regarding my lovely city of Memphis (more on that later), I could not sleep. I cried out to the Lord, "Use me! USE me! use MEEE! Use my car. Use my house. Use everything I have."

To which the Lord clearly, deliberately stated: "Your car is not ready to be used. Your house is not ready to be used. You are not ready to be used."

Ugh. Truth.

At that moment, my car was so full of trash and jackets and bookbags and makeup and Starbucks cups and sippy cups and teddy bears and scarves and hats and apple cores... that I couldn't fit another person in there if my life depended on it.

My house - full of more junk. Full. Bursting at the seams. Items that had little use and no place to call home floated through my house like ghosts, seeking a life they once possessed.

And myself. My heart. My life. Full. Full of good things, like love for, and time with, my children, husband, friends, family. That's supposed to be there. Time with the Lord? Eh. It was there, but not as much as it should be. But then there's that other space: that space that can be filled and emptied and refilled over and over again. It's the space most often occupied by TV, facebook, more TV, gossip, TV, movies, TV, magazines, TV, idle shopping, TV, music, and more TV. (Did I mention TV?)

With the plethora of cheap entertainment and empty space-fillers at my disposal (and in constant use), is it any wonder I had no time for anything else?

My car. My home. My life... all totally unprepared for use in God's Kingdom.

That thought led to a slew of emotions, resolutions, goals, projects, plans, and determinations.

That was two months ago.

But over the past two months, through prayerful consideration with my husband, that big pot of resolutions has simmered and boiled down to a concentrated, purposeful salve of resolve.

I am resolved...

1.) To remove mindless TV from my life. We sold the xbox. We sold the movies (all 341 of them). We sold the DVD player. We sold (gasp) the TV. There may still be evenings when hubby and I cuddle up to the glow of the laptop screen and enjoy a movie together. But it is no longer the constant hum of our home.

2.) To prepare my house and car and every area of my life for the "promised offering."
Two days after I cleaned out my car, and elderly lady (with a trunk full of Christmas presents) broke down right in front of me. I was able to comfortably fit her and all her packages (plus a few of my own) into my car to help her home. Confirmation, anyone?
My house will take much longer than the five hours spent on my car. But, as my verse for the year says, "I want you to have all the time you need to make this offering in your own way. I don't want anything forced or hurried at the last minute." I have time, and I plan to make the most of it.

3.) To do what I am supposed to do right now. I don't mean this in the "big-picture" way I have said it in the past... as in, "I'm living where I'm supposed to live, doing the job I'm supposed to do, etc." What I mean is right now. At this moment. Am I doing what I am supposed to be doing? When I'm at work, I plan to work. When it's dinner time, I cook. When I should be with my children, I'm with my children. And when I should be folding clothes, I'm folding clothes. No more doing home from work or work from home. No more talking on the phone instead of talking with my daughter. No more resting when I should be busy or busyness when I should be resting. "For everything there is a season."

4.) Above all, to seek first the Kingdom of God and trust that "all these things" will be added unto me. I tend to jump on bandwagons. All or nothing. That's my motto. "I'm eating 500 calories a day so I can lose a million pounds." OR ""Look how immaculately perfect my house can be when I spend a ka-jillion hours a day on it." OR "I can sew new wardrobes for everyone in our family plus some for the neighbors!" OR "Apple Pie, anyone? I baked 23 of them this week just so I could get the perfect crust."
When I'm on those bandwagons, they become priority over everything else. They become a god. And I am convicted.
So my plan is to have one true bandwagon this year: God's Kingdom. And I'm going to trust and believe that, if everything I do is with that purpose in mind, "all these things" will fall into place.

Happy 2011, y'all.

2011... Part 1

2010-12-31T15:47:00.000-08:00

I love January 1st.

It is, bar none, my favorite day of the year.

I love new beginnings. I love blank slates. I love a white canvas, waiting for color and life.

For Brandon and I, much of December is spent discussing the changes we wish to make in the following year. We look back at the past twelve (and sometimes twenty four) months and determine what we liked - and didn't like - about them. We weave our way through pleasant family memories. We stumble through recollections of arguments or difficult decisions.

2010 has been... easy. Compared to 2009, in which we moved to and from a strange land, redefining ourselves and our family, 2010 was simple.

We worked. We played. We settled into a new groove of American living.

And as we look into, and pray over, 2011... one passage of scripture keeps coming up...

Starting with 2 Corinthians 8:1...

(1-4) Now, friends, I want to report on the surprising and generous ways in which God is working in the churches in Macedonia province. Fierce troubles came down on the people of those churches, pushing them to the very limit. The trial exposed their true colors: They were incredibly happy, though desperately poor. The pressure triggered something totally unexpected: an outpouring of pure and generous gifts. I was there and saw it for myself. They gave offerings of whatever they could—far more than they could afford!—pleading for the privilege of helping out in the relief of poor Christians.

(10)So here's what I think: The best thing you can do right now is to finish what you started last year and not let those good intentions grow stale. Your heart's been in the right place all along. You've got what it takes to finish it up, so go to it.

(9:1-2)If I wrote any more on this relief offering for the poor Christians, I'd be repeating myself. I know you're on board and ready to go. I've been bragging about you all through Macedonia province, telling them, "Achaia province has been ready to go on this since last year." Your enthusiasm by now has spread to most of them.

(3-5)Now I'm sending the brothers to make sure you're ready, as I said you would be, so my bragging won't turn out to be just so much hot air. If some Macedonians and I happened to drop in on you and found you weren't prepared, we'd all be pretty red-faced—you and us—for acting so sure of ourselves. So to make sure there will be no slipup, I've recruited these brothers as an advance team to get you and your promised offering all ready before I get there. I want you to have all the time you need to make this offering in your own way. I don't want anything forced or hurried at the last minute.

(8) God can pour on the blessings in astonishing ways so that you're ready for anything and everything, more than just ready to do what needs to be done.

(12-15) Carrying out this social relief work involves far more than helping meet the bare needs of poor Christians. It also produces abundant and bountiful thanksgivings to God. This relief offering is a prod to live at your very best, showing your gratitude to God by being openly obedient to the plain meaning of the Message of Christ. You show your gratitude through your generous offerings to your needy brothers and sisters, and really toward everyone. Meanwhile, moved by the extravagance of God in your lives, they'll respond by praying for you in passionate intercession for whatever you need. Thank God for this gift, his gift. No language can praise it enough!

More to come...

Full

2010-12-11T09:03:00.000-08:00

My little bloggy world feels like a distant memory these days. I could complain about the sickness(es) we've been battling, the stress of basketball season when married to a coach, the endless meetings at my job, and the fact that my house can never stay clean for more than 2.3 seconds.

My life is very full right now. At this very moment, walking through my living room requires crossing a gauntlet of sofa cushions, stuffed animals, crushed cheerios, dress up clothes, and the occasional dirty sock.

The sounds of my house are those of little girls giggling, humming, pretending, and the occasional whining.

My husband is studiously grading papers and gathering up the necessary DVD entertainment for our upcoming trip to Athens, in between filling the alternating rolls of a giant, Prince Charming, and a puppy named "puffy."

The Christmas tree is lit. Last week's "sparkly" sugar cookies are almost gone. A few presents are wrapped (and re-wrapped) under the tree.

The truth is that the last few weeks have felt chaotic. I feel as though I'm behind on all my "should-be-doings" in life. We have battled some rather scary illness. I have felt a lot like a single mom as my superman teacher hubby coaches young boys in basketball and in life. Work has been busy with meeting after meeting in preparation for upcoming changes. And my house has been in a constant state of upheaval in the midst of it all.

But as I look back on the past few weeks, I think about how blessed I really am. We are all healthy and active, despite the sickness. My husband is busy doing what he loves, and what he is called to do - a fact that gives him confidence in himself and closeness to his God. The meetings at work are leading to a new system that will make my job easier in less than two months. And my house? The upheaval is caused by the same two little girls who curl up in my lap at night to snuggle into me while we read the Christmas story. They climb in my bed in the morning and make it so much easier for me to wake up. They tip toe around in their tutus and pajamas, stopping occasionally to hug my leg before they scamper off into their next adventure. The gauntlet that is my living room right now is the very evidence of life and imagination in my house.

I'm busy, yes. Sometimes stressed. Overwhelmed? Often.

But that is to be expected when one's life is full. Full to the brim.

Overflowing.

In the midst of a very severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity.
2 Corinthians 8:2

Just a reminder...

2010-07-23T04:24:00.000-07:00

I am still here. I'm just not here here. I'm here. At least for a little while. Clear as mud?

On this American Holiday

2010-07-06T07:59:00.000-07:00

One thing I don't talk about (very much) on this here little blog, is how much we miss Korea.

Because we do.

Miss it.

A lot.

It's funny how that is, isn't it? When we were there, we missed being here. When we are here, we miss being there.

I recognize that, ultimately, it's a longing for our True Home, but that doesn't change the fact that, occasionally, "homesickness" for Korea sinks in and takes hold.

We had a wonderful July 4th this year. Friends from Georgia came to visit. Friends from Tennessee invited us to hang out with them. All of us spread our blankets on the grass and watched the fireworks while listening to Lee Greenwood.

As much fun as we were having, I couldn't help but think of this special night on a rooftop in Korea.

So, in recognition of the wonderful life-changing experience we had in Korea, here is a list of things I miss about my Korean Home:

1.) I miss Easter. She became one of my dearest friends while I was there. She lived one floor above me and would come knock on my door once or twice a week so that we could have coffee and let our girls (who are close to the same age) play together. I miss her so. very. much.

2.) I miss the sound of the Korean language being spoken outside my window. We lived right next to a very vibrant, busy church. There were always deacons and cooks and pastors and elders and samonims and children walking by our apartment, talking and laughing and heading to whatever class or service they attend. I miss hearing that sound.

3.) I miss the physical contact. I never (NEVER!) thought I would be saying that. In the church, at the store, on the subway, Korean people simply don't have the "personal bubble" concept we American's do. There were times that this REALLY annoyed me. But when we arrived in the states, I remember going to sleep at night and feeling so isolated. So alone. It was then that I realized - with the exception of my husband and children - I can go days and WEEKS in America without touching another human being. No wonder I felt/feel so disconnected sometimes.

4.) I miss our apartment. The heated wooden floors. The all-tile bathroom. The huge sliding windows. The deep kitchen sink. The little laundry room (my favorite room of the house) that looked out over a rice patty and the skyline of the city. Chloe's princess bedroom. Maple's dragonfly baby room who's wallpaper reminded me every single day of how much the Samonims cared for me. The smell of food cooking in the hallways.

5.) I miss the mommy-baby room at the church. For church services, all of the mommies with small children would go to one room. We would sit and chat or sing or listen to the sermon, while our children would laugh and play and share snacks.

There are so many other thing I could mention here - like gimbap, and the little garden behind the church, and small children with big brown eyes, and elderly women who coo at my babies, and ice cream after church, and the silouette of the mountains behind our home, and the peace of staying home with my girls all day.

Many things we miss. Many people we miss.

So on this American holiday, as we celebrate the blessing that is our great nation, I give a nod and a "thank you" to our other home.

Let no foreigner who has bound himself to the LORD say, "The LORD will surely exclude me from his people."
Isaiah 56:3

And foreigners who bind themselves to the LORD to serve him, to love the name of the LORD, and to worship him, all who keep the Sabbath without desecrating it and who hold fast to my covenant- these I will bring to my holy mountain and give them joy in my house of prayer. Their burnt offerings and sacrifices will be accepted on my altar; for my house will be called a house of prayer for all nations."
Isaiah 56:6-7

By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going. By faith he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.
Hebrews 11:8-10

A(nother) New Blog!

2010-07-02T09:40:00.000-07:00

Ok, so here's the deal. I'm on this whole "healthy lifestyle" kick right now. I'm working out every morning. Slowly but surely cutting back my calories.

Slow and steady, folks. Slow and steady.

And because it's all new and exciting, it's pretty much all I think about (narcissistic much?).

So, instead of turning my beloved blog space into a "guess how many calories I ate today?" black hole, I decided to start another blog over here.

But before you click over there, let me give you my list of warnings (if you read them fast, like the guy at the end of drug commercials, they might be more enjoyable/bearable):

1.) Shrinking120is a place for me to talk about weight loss, healthy food, exercise, mood-altering drugs and any other random topic that happens to pop into my mind during my 6am workout. (Oh, you'd be surprised how many topics are popping that early in the morning.)

2.) It's probably boring to read.

3.) I'm ok with that.

4.) I promise to update it as often as I update my12hats.

5.) I'm glad you find that humorous. I'll pause while the laughter subsides...

6.) Side effects may include: nausea, dizziness, fatigue, dry mouth, x-ray vision, and the ability to leap small children in a single bound.

7.) Contact your doctor if you feel the need to throw your computer across the room.

8.) Contact your spouse if you feel the need to throw your cat across the room.

9.) Not recommended for anyone who suffers from short-sightedness or who listens to music by any member of the Cyrus family.

10.) Results may vary.

Anyways, check it out: http://shrinking120.blogspot.com

Book Review: The Noticer

2010-06-24T11:16:00.001-07:00

So I realize I'm a bit behind the times in reviewing The Noticer(especially since I received my copy from Thomas Nelson last year).

Still, better late than never, right?

The Noticer, by Andy Andrews, is about an elderly gentleman who appears on the scene at the opportune moment and disperses just-in-time wisdom to individuals in crisis.

Ok... can I just be honest here? This book was a nice read. Nice. That's how I would describe it.

It wasn't rivetting. It didn't reveal untold wisdom. It certainly didn't present many original ideas.

For most of the book, I felt as if I were reading a conglomeration of several recent catch-phrases and pop-sermon series that have appeared on the Christian scene in the past 10 years.

At one point, I even said out loud, "I swear I just read that in The 5 Love Languages."

All in all, it was nice. A nice read.

As for a recommendations? I would say...Take it to the beach. Chillax with it in the hammock. Leave it on the back of the toilet. But don't expect it to change your life.

Have you read it? What did you think?

The Second Time Around

2010-06-06T10:25:00.001-07:00

There was a time in my life when the biggest thing I dreamed of - the thing I believed for and prayed for and invested all my time in - was a house. A big white house with Charleston green shutters, a red front door, green gables, and a wrap-around front porch. I had dreams about this house. I knew that I knew that I knew that this house was destined for me and I for it. I figured the reason the "Lord" had put this desire in my heart was because of my gracious hostessing skills (ha!)and because He had some fabulous home ministry planned for us. I believed this statement so much that I was absolutely convinced the Lord was going to give me my house. Not "provide a mode of payment" or "supply an excellent mortgage rate." No, I believed the Lord was going to flat-out give it to me. I was certain that I would come home one day to find a deed in my mailbox. Seriously, y'all.

My husband wasn't quite this dramatic, but he too desired a house like this one. Even as a teenager, when I asked him what he wanted for his life, he responded, "I want a wife and a family and a home (with a swimming pool) where our children can grow."

But in the past year (more accurately in the past six months), the Lord has done some work in our hearts.

It has been a long time since I stopped believing for that house. It wasn't a big, dramatic event. I didn't decide one day that God wasn't going to do it and so I should just give up on praying for it. No, what has happened has been more gradual, more grueling, more (I believe) eternal.

The "American Dream" that we have always wanted has been replaced by a different kind of dream. Bigger houses and nicer cars and well-paying jobs suddenly seem insignificant.

I don't know what that means for us. I don't know where this new world-view will take us. What I do know is this... I don't want what I want anymore. As I look back over the past 6 years (since Hubby and I have been married), the Lord has systematically given us everything we have asked for (in one form or another), and what we have discovered is this: the things we want - the things we have spent time and energy and prayers and faith and money and our life trying to achieve - they are vapors. Paper. Bricks and mortar. They don't last, and they often disappoint.

So now? Our goal is to get away from them. Proverbs says "The borrower is a slave to the lender," and boy don't we know it. Because of the debt that we have accrued, our time and money do not belong to us and therefore cannot be committed to God or His Kingdom. So, for now, we give Him what is His (the tithe of our money and time) and we bust our booties to buy our freedom. Because this time, freedom will look different. It won't look like houses and cars and nicer clothes.

It will look like surrender.

On blogging....

2010-06-01T08:51:00.000-07:00

Blogs are such a strange thing. I mean, really.

Writing, in general, is difficult. It's taking what's inside - be it gut-wrenching pain or gut-splitting humor - yanking it out of its "safe place," and allowing it to flow through our fingers onto a page.

Several emotions present themselves through that process.

Sometimes the emotion is one of inadequacy. Sometimes there are not words to describe the whirlwind that's happening on the inside. Sometimes there are words, but we are not allowed to use them in Christian circles. Sometimes when the words finally do come, they are incomplete, empty, a black-and-white cartoon of the masterpiece in our souls. They are, inadequate.

Sometimes the emotion is fear. Sometimes the words are too adequate, too accurate, too real. The deepest parts of the soul are exposed for the world to see and judge. To accept or reject. To adore or ignore. In the moment we decide to publish - be it on a little blog page or in a master novel - longings and hurts and happiness and fulfilment are placed in the hands of a total stranger, and we learn if we are truly alone.

Sometimes the emotion is akin to freedom. Sometimes writing releases that thing that has been hiding from the world, and hiding us from the world. Sometimes it heals us to know that the secret is no longer ours to bear. The shame and fear of someone discovering us no longer binds or hinders. The light is cast in the shadows, and there is no more crouching or skulking, clothed in our trench coat of isolation.

Then sometimes... sometimes the emotion is faith. Only it feels less like emotion and more like action. Even obedience. Sometimes we write when we have no way to predict the outcome. Sometimes we expose our soul for no other reason than we feel like it's what we are supposed to do.

That's where I'm at right now.

It's not pretty, y'all.

A Link I REALLY Hope You'll Click....

2010-06-01T08:20:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure I have linked to this before.

But in case I haven't, you seriously HAVE to read it.

Because of where I'm at right now, the Lord has had me reading this article by Jonathon Acuff (Stuff Christians Like) every single morning.

It hurts my heart, and it convicts me. Ugh.

So here's the deal...

2010-05-28T11:56:00.000-07:00

I have several blogs floating around in the space between my ears, but they're all pretty intense.

Usually, after hard-core posts (like the past couple posts), I like to throw in a little comic relief.

But the comedian has left the building.

So... what would y'all like? A little more intensity soon? Or a little comedy later?

Your choice.

My closest friend (part 2)

2010-05-04T07:32:00.000-07:00

I hope that it's painfully obvious that I don't actually talk to my friends like that.

But that is the way the Lord chose to reveal this sin to me. Because that's what it is. Sin.

I tried to sugar coat it. I tried to tell Him that I'm just giving myself a realistic self-image. I'm not depressed. I'm not unhappy. I'm fairly confident but, Lord, do YOU see my thighs? And do YOU see the numbers on the scale? I'm just being honest when I say that I'm lazy and I did this to myself.

That's when He replied: "Don't talk about my friend like that."

Ouch.

I'm not alone in this, right? I think we women are especially prone to being harder on ourselves than on anyone else.

We would never scream at our best friend for gaining two pounds.

We would never deny our child breakfast because she had dessert with dinner last night.

We would never demean someone or make them feel like a failure because they made a mistake.

We encourage. We uplift. We even tell little white lies so that people feel good about themselves. We love. We forgive. We overlook. We forget.

As women, we have the profound ability to look past someone's imperfections, to see beyond their outward appearance, to search deep into their hearts, and to find a reason to love them despite their apparent flaws. We hear about it all the time in cases of abused women. We listen to their story in disbelief as they answer the question, "Why did you stay?"

Because I love him.

Because when he isn't drunk, he really is a good man.

Because he never hurt the kids.

Because he promised me he would change.

We sit back and judge their reasoning. But is it really so unbelievable? Is it really that difficult to understand their need, their desire, to see past the flaws and love the person underneath?

We women love hard. God has given us the rare ability to love our husbands, our children, and each other with a love that goes far beyond a fleeting, wimpy love. It's a love that pierces through the outside shells and sinks into the soft, god-like part in the middle.

But when it comes to ourselves, we can't get past the cottage cheese thighs.

Women can forgive the most heinous of crimes against our soul. Rejection. Abandonment. Neglect.

But we can't forgive ourselves for eating that potato chip last night.

We look at those who suffer from anger, and see abuse from their past. We look at those who run from relationships, and we see the abandonment with which they still wrestle. We look at those who work too hard, drink too much, or care too little... and we see who they are beneath all the crap that the world has laid upon them.

But when we look at ourselves, we see failure and lack of discipline. We see the enemy.

But I'm done with that. It's disgusting. It's unfair. It's a self-inflicted nightmare that I refuse to give into.

Because He created me. He loves me. He is my friend.

And I won't talk about His friend like that anymore.

My closest friend...

2010-05-02T19:08:00.000-07:00

I have this friend. She is very dear to my heart. I've known her for as long as I can remember. We were in diapers together. We went to the same high school and college. We had kids around the same time. For most of our lives, we have been joined at the hip.

I love this dear friend. She has been with me through every difficult situation, every boyfriend (and subsequent rejection), every big event, every major decision. She knows more about me than anyone else, and she still loves me.

But sometimes she's a little, well, obnoxious. She talks way too much. She's REALLY hormonal. And she's fat. Like, really fat.

What?

It's not like I'm talking behind her back. I tell her all the time.

That's the other thing. She NEVER listens to me. I am constantly telling her what she needs to do to not be so fat. But she's stupid too. Like, seriously, really stupid. And lazy. That's probably why she's so fat and stupid. All she has to do is get off the couch and stop eating so much. And if she had just studied a little harder, she wouldn't be so stupid. It all boils down to laziness.

But I love her. Really. I would do anything for her. It's just, you know, she RARELY does what I want her to do. But it's okay. I'm working on ways to get her to obey me.

First, I yell at her, you know, just to get her attention. Then I remind her of all her faults. "You're fat! You're stupid! You're a terrible wife, mother, friend, and daughter!"

Then I simply instruct her on how to fix all those things: "Work harder. Get up earlier. Eat less, and for goodness sake, STOP BEING SO LAZY."

But, as I said previously, she never listens to me. So I have to figure out ways to make her listen.

First I make her eat so much ice cream that she's sick; then I don't feed her again for three days. Sometimes I just make her look in the mirror while I point out every single little flaw in her appearance. I start with her hair and point out how it's not like the other girls' hair. It's dry at the ends and oily at the roots. It's frizzy and, if she would just take some time to fix it, it MIGHT not be as shapeless as it ALWAYS is. Plus, she should totally go blond. Then I move on to her teeth. ACK! They're SO yellow. It's from all the coffee she just HAS to drink (though I've told her over and over again how bad it is for her). They're also getting more and more crooked every day because (hello!) she stopped wearing her retainer too soon.

Now we get to the easy part. Her arms look like somebody stuffed cottage cheese into pantyhose. Her stomach makes her look pregnant. I put my mouth next to her ear and SCREAM about her butt and thighs because, oh. my. word., they are HUGE! I remind her AGAIN that she should NEVER wear a skirt. Who would want to look at THOSE ankles? And her feet? Well.. size 10... need I say more?

Once I'm finished pointing out her flaws. I tell her she disgusts me for not being stronger. Why should all that stuff bother her so much? She should be used to it by now. It's not like she's a victim. I mean, every single thing I pointed out to her was put there by none other than herself. She IS the one who ate so much ice cream. If she had listened to me all along, we wouldn't even be having this conversation.

Finally, she caves in. She bolsters every bit of confidence she has left (which isn't much, for some reason. I make a note to talk to her about that later). And she PROMISES me that today is the last day she will rebel. Tomorrow, TOMORROW, she will do what I ask and start eating better, exercising more, and become an all-around better person.

I tell her to be sure she does, and to keep her emotions and "hormones" (whatever those are) in check in the meantime. "There's nothing worse than a needy female" I tell her.

Honestly, she's a really sweet girl. She loves the Lord and tries really hard. I just can't figure out why she won't listen. Doesn't she understand that I genuinely have her best interest in mind?

What's been up

2010-04-29T12:02:00.000-07:00

So, there's a lot of stuff going through my head recently, and a lot that I could blog about. Some of these topics include...

1. I am going completely 'poo free! No shampoo. Ever. Interested? Check out the Winnowing Woman (one of my favorite blogs)to see what I'm talking about.

2. In the past month, Maple has... been to the doctor 3 times, seen a specialist, scheduled a surgery, CANCELLED a surgery, and is now completely healthy. Expect more on this topic later...

3. I'm not losing weight. It's as simple as that. I'm not GAINING, but I'm not losing. I'm stuck. Blah.

4. It's Yard Sale Season!

And while all of that stuff would make for some decent reading, I need this post to be about my need to write. There's some stuff I've been learning recently that I need to get off my chest. Some lessons that have been (and continue to be) difficult, but are totally worth sharing. While I could probably write a book about some of this stuff, I'll try to limit this post to a blog-worthy brevity.

My main struggle since returning to the states has been in the simple act of knowing myself. I spent an entire year of my life striving to become just like the people around me, and once that habit is established, it's a hard one to break. As I have continued the effort to become "like" the people around me, I have become more and more miserable with myself.

I'm too loud. I'm too honest. I'm too passionate. My personality is too much for people. My wardrobe is too colorful. My sense of humor is weird. My opinions are alien.

I'm a weirdo, y'all.

Not only that, but I'm a sinful, self-absorbed, painfully blunt weirdo.

Scared yet?

When I first started feeling this way, I hid from the Lord. I have tried to think of a better way to present that on a blog. But the full truth of the matter is: I hid from the Lord. I couldn't take any more judgement. I didn't want to hear about any more of my shortcoming. And I certainly didn't want to know how to fix them and thereby confirm that they are, in fact, major problems. It was His fault anyways. He's the one who made me this way. He's the one who spoke to my heart so many years ago: Speak forth in boldness, for the harvest is plentiful while the laborers are few. So what right did He have to condemn who I am?

Because, you know, God's a vengeful, spiteful, holier-than-thou, condemning, cruel God who likes to point out my flaws and give me a 12-step program to fix who I am all on my own.

Except He isn't.

And that's the part I forgot.

...until He reminded me.

You see, there are days when I am too honest, when I should shut my mouth instead of speaking up, when I should be gentle instead of firm, when I should choose peace over being right.

But there are also days when God calls me to speak light to the darkness and truth to the lies.

There are days when my emotions get the best of me. I laugh when I should be angry. I am angry when I should be in tears. And I cry when I should be able to brush things off as no-big-deal. On these days, my emotions are too raw - too much - too apparent, and those emotions make people uncomfortable.

But there are days when I can sit in the gutter and weep with those who are broken, when I can laugh with someone else's joy, and I can stand alongside them in righteous anger when they have been wronged. On those days, my emotions are weapons against bitterness and loneliness .

There are days when my passions are misdirected. There are days I am passionate about coffee, or a TV show, or the temperature of my office at work. There are days when my passions become others's problems.

But there are also days (and I have to believe there will be more day) when my passion causes me to raise up and defend the oppressed, the suffering, and the poor. My passion gives voice to the voiceless. My passion will make a difference in this world. Of this I'm certain.

So I'm resting in the Lord and trusting that He will show me a balance. I pray that my uniqueness will be a blessing and not a curse, that I will appreciate the way he made me and not wish to be like someone else, that someday (even if it's in Heaven) I will see how each and every "weirdo" trait was part of a grand design to better our world and glorify His Kingdom.

And I'm relying on grace... a lot of grace.

OK, Dave Ramsey, anwer me this...

2010-04-21T18:20:00.001-07:00

So Brandon and I have taken to teaching our eldest about money. She has a list of chores that are *her* responsibility: cleaning her room, putting her toys away, throwing her dirty clothes in the hamper, brushing her teeth (and, yes, that is a chore for a three-year-old). But there are also a few chores for which she gets a quarter: setting the table, feather dusting, sweeping the patio (with mommy, of course), and throwing away diapers.

One of the thing I love about this process is that it gives me an "out" when she asks for a toy at the store. I don't have to say "no." I simply say, "Sure you can buy it, if you save enough quarters."

Sometimes she'll ask me how many quarters something costs, and if it's a number outside of her comprehension (like 23), she responds, "Woah... that's too many monies for me." End of discussion. No weeping, wailing, or gnashing of teeth. No begging, pleading, or puddles of disappointment. It's too many quarters, and that's that.

We're quite proud of this system, her father and I, as we feel it is setting her up to manage her finances for life.

But...

Tonight we went to the store because she decided that the money in her bank was burning a hole in her pocket... or something like that. She chose five shiny quarters (about half of her supply) and clamored into the car, chattering away about all the many toys she would buy with her five quarters.

Of course, by the time we got to the store, I had explained that she probably could only get one small toy with five quarters, but she was undeterred.

Off to the dollar section of the local Target, and right to the small basket of balls. She picked out a sparkly purple ball - the kind that's filled with air and looks like a porcupine. She carried it around the store, happily taunting her sister with it for about 45 minutes.

We checked out, and she paid the cashier herself. She was thrilled to get a few "golden" coins back right before we headed to the car.

In the car. Seat belts snapped. Last-minute decision to stop and get ice cream on our way home. The perfect outing.

POW! Pshhhhhhhh...

I looked in my rear view mirror to find a purple, sparkly, porcupiney - completely deflated - former ball.

I braced myself and prepared for the wailing that would soon ensue.

No such thing.

"Aw, mooommmmmm," she said. "What happened to it?"

After a round of questions, we concluded that, in an attempt to help her sister get the toy she dropped, Chloe had put the ball between her teeth in order to free her hands. She bit a hole in the ball.

We were already halfway home, and Dave Ramsey said that kids have to learn tough lessons like these.

"Can we go back and get another one?"

What would you do, moms?

*In that moment - due to the sprinkling rain, and the fact that bed time was approaching fast - we did not turn around and get her another ball. After discussing it with my Sweet Hubby last night, we decided not to get her another one - yet. We are in the final stages of potty training, which means (cue dramatic music) no pull-ups at night! She has been doing great, but we still have some work to do. So... we have told her that if she can go two weeks without an accident, she will get a secret surprise. Guess what it will be?

Ain't no stoppin' me now....

2010-04-07T17:44:00.000-07:00

Ohhhhh bloggity blog blog bloggity blog.... whatever am I going to do with you?

Lots of surface-y things are going on 'round these parts. My friend Superstarr is headed into town this weekend on her way back from visiting kin. Work is going pretty well - I moved offices today. Maple is crawling like her diaper is on fire. Chloe has learned the meaning of a "secret spot" and has taken to hiding her most prized possessions. Sweet Hubby is off at basketball having a guys night.

And me? I'm sitting between the arms of my green comfy chair, listening to the grumble of distant thunder, watching my favorite scene of Julie and Julia (for the ka-jillionth time)... all the while thinking... I should be blogging.

So... here I am... trying to blog it out on the surface. But you know what? That's just not cuttin' it. Because on the surface, life is sweeeeeeeeet. I'm slowly but surely losing weight. My house, while always bombarded by toys and dishes and that one sock that never has a mate, is fairly orderly. My job is improving by leaps and bounds every week. My kids are happy. My husband is enjoying our life here.

It seems I'm the only one who's out of place in this picture.

Waa waa... poor me.

Sorry.

You see, I came to a realization a few weeks back. And since arriving at said realization, it has latched onto me sumthin' fierce and just won't let go.

What I realized was this: I'm not perfect.

I know, I know. I was just as surprised as you are.

(You are surprised, right?)

But that's not all... it gets worse...

I am sometimes so far away from perfect - so far away from what I am supposed to be, from what want to be, from what I am called to be - that I don't even recognize myself.

And I could tell you a million reasons why this particular realization has hit so hard during this season of life.

But the bottom line is this: my very best... everything I have to give...

...my talents.
...my giftings.
...my boldness.
...my sass.
...my organizational skills.
...my parenting skills.
...my cooking.
...my teaching.
...my encouraging.
...my hope.
...my faith.
...my ability to love fiercely.
...my work ethic.
...my quirky style.
...everything that makes me who I am.
...everything that defines me.
...every little thing to which I cling... the things that give me confidence and hope... all those things that set me up for a successful life...

They. Are. Rags.

Dirty.

Worthless.

Stained.

Torn.

Ugly.

Smelly.

Mildewy.

Rags.

And that, my friends, is a hard lesson to learn.

To be continued....

Anybody out there?

2010-03-27T21:28:00.000-07:00

This is the 3rd time I have opened this page today. I'm still not sure where to begin. Coming back to a blog after 30+ days of nothing is like running into a friend after you haven't returned her calls... all 30+ of them.

So, like, hey. How you doing? Yeah, I'm good. Hey, look, sorry I haven't been around. Life has just been kinda crazy, ya know? So much going on. Work. Church. Home. Life. You know. Chloe's been sick a lot this year. Yeah, I'm still trying to get over something myself *cough*cough*... *awkward pause*...So... it was good running into you. Um, let's get together and talk soon, ok? Seriously, I'll call you. Mmmkay? Good to see you *awkward side hug*

Ok, so now that the initial awkwardness is over and done with, lets move on to more important things, shall we?

Recently... well... recently... life kinda sucks (if you'll pardon my French).

Here's the thing. The thing is, it's easy to blog when things are going well. I like to blog during those times. I like talking about weight loss and the funny things my kids do and all the things the Lord has been teaching me.

All of those things are fun to write about... except maybe the last one. I only like to blog about that one after the lesson is all said and done. I like to tell you how the Lord took my messy life and wrapped it up in a neat little 100-word-or-less devotional-type lesson for me to share with my nearest and dearest blog readers.

But when I'm in the nitty gritty of learning one of those lessons. When God peels back the bandage and reveals a nasty, gaping, infected wound that should have been dealt with a long time ago.

Well, you know how it's fun to show a scar after you've had a big accident? But it's not so fun to gross your friends out with the wound right when it happens?

It's kinda like that.

So that's where I've been. In the nitty gritty. In the nasty. In the infected, sensitive, painful lesson.

And, frankly, I wasn't ready to bring y'all in on that action.

But then I had a conversation with a friend the other day. She told me how she doesn't really like reading the blogs that give the idealized version of someone's life. She likes to feel like she's there, sharing someone's life with them.

And there I was, in the middle of that conversation, heaped in blogger's conviction because I've cut you out. And it's a habit I seem to have developed.

I write when it's easy. I write when it doesn't hurt. I write when all the healing is complete, and it's just a fun story to tell.

So I'm going to try to change that. I'm not making any grand promises, and I'm still not sure on what level those discussions are appropriate for the general public.

But, I am admitting it's a problem, and that's the first step, right?

Day 1... again....

2010-02-15T18:41:00.000-08:00

So here's what's up y'all:

1 baby + 1 preschooler + 1 mommy + a nasty flu = no blogging + no diet + really really really messy house.

So, since my house work is getting caught up (sort of), and since everyone is feeling better (mostly), I have deemed today as the first day of my 20-day diet... again...

The plot: 1 twenty-something overweight wife and mom, twenty days, 600 calories, and a blog where it all goes down.

Soooo... that seems to be all the creative oomph I have tonight... soooo... I'll end with my end-of-the-week weight.

As of Saturday, February 13, three weeks (a full 17 days) into the process....

I have lost 18 POUNDS!!!!!

My doctor's goal for the first 30 days: 20 lbs. Looks like I might make that and then some.

Woo hoooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!

19 days down; 71 days to go.

Ugh....

2010-02-09T14:08:00.001-08:00

Why didn't I get that stupid flu shot?

(Re)Start Your Engines....

2010-02-08T11:49:00.000-08:00

It's 2pm, and both girls are napping (amen?). We had a glorious snow-day today, and even though Maple Anne has a nasty little cold-plus-fever, I have enjoyed both the house cleaning and the lounging that snow days bring.

Last night was the super bowl... and the super bowl party... and the super bowl party food that comes with the super bowl and the super bowl party...

Combine that with a busy day and lack of food preparation, I broke down.

It's not cool. I'm not supposed to break this diet at. all. for 20 days. But, sometimes life happens, and as much as I would like to think that I will always be prepared with a handful of almonds when only chips are available, the truth is that I don't always have control over what food is set before me. So, I ate what was deliciously available... in small, single portions.

If I weren't on this 600-calorie-a-day kick, I might even be proud of the way I ate last night.

So here's the thing...

I'm an all-or-nuthin' kinda gal. And since I "fell off the wagon" last night, my first instinct is to say, "Dang, I failed. It's over. I will forever be overweight."

But I have been down that path, and I know where it leads.

So today I'm making a choice. Last night, and nights like last night, are and forever will be inevitable. I must choose to eat in moderation and jump right back on that wagon the next morning.

I hate that my 20 days have been interrupted, and I am considering starting the 20 days over again tomorrow (while still counting the past 12 days as part of the grander 90-day goal).

According to the good Doc, it takes 20 days for the brain to "reprogram" itself out of old addictions and ways of burning fat. If those 20 days are interrupted, the "cycle" may not be completely broken.

Soo... I'm in a bit of a quandary. Start the 20 days over again tomorrow? Or keep on truckin' for the remaining 9 days and hope that all the hormone stuff has been fixed???

Even posting that question makes me think I should start over... what do you think?

On Being "Fat"...

2010-02-06T12:47:00.000-08:00

The word is a faux pas in American society. Ugly. Shameful. "Obese" is a little less offensive, but only when used in medical conversations. "Fluffy." "Chubby." "Full-figured." "Plus-size." These are words that, in one way or another, shape our view of people. People like the lady in the Wal-Mart check-out line. People like the guy buying power tools at Lowes. People like a neighbor. Or a friend. A mother. A daughter. A brother. People like me.

I've been debating with myself for quite a while now. Is this topic too raw, too real for a blog? But, frankly, it's something I am comfortable talking about. I recognize that the topic often makes people around me uncomfortable; so I try to steer clear of it unless I'm with my closest friends and family. But you know what? I'm kind of tired of keeping it quiet.

I am "obese."

And since it's something I'm not "allowed" to talk about to the general public, I have decided to dispel a few fat fables here on my own little piece of the bloggersphere.

Fable #1: I am fat. Correction: I have fat.
I can remember a very distinct thought that struck me two years ago around Christmas time. Hubby and I were in the car, leaving a Christmas party, and I was feeling pretty bummed about my weight. At that point in time, I was the heaviest I had ever been: 140 lbs above my healthy weight limit. I had just been to my third doctor who told me that nothing was wrong with me and that I just needed to "become more active." I was discouraged and disgusted with myself. It was in that moment, that a vivid picture popped into my head: it was me, inside a fat suit. I pictured walking into that party and unzipping the suit, as everyone watched the real me step out of it. That was when I realized: I am not fat. It's not who I am. It doesn't define me. The real me is fun and vivacious, full of energy, and confident and comfortable enough to do all the things that "skinny" girls do. She's just trapped inside a fat suit that slows her down, saps her energy, and limits her ability to do certain activities. Somehow I had to find a way to "unzip" that fat suit.

Fable #2: I have low self-esteem. Correction: I have a realistic self-image.
I was talking with a friend a few months ago about my upcoming treatment with Dr.Z. She was so sweet and so excited for me. She told me how proud she was of me for even trying it, and then she said, "And when it's all over, won't you be so happy to feel beautiful again?" Yeah. I was completely flabbergasted by that comment. I had never thought of losing weight as making me "beautiful." I don't feel un-beautiful now. As a matter of fact, there are a LOT of things I like about my looks. Of course I have days when I hate my hair, and I feel like a bloated cow. But I have a feeling all women of all shapes and sizes have days like that. For the most part, I like myself and the way I look. However, I am not blind. I do see myself in the mirror, and I do see the numbers on the scale. I recognize that things need to change. But do you know what excites me the most about this change? I get to play sports with my husband. I get to have a chance at a long life - to see my grandchildren. I get a wider variety of clothing available to me, including dresses! Do you know how long it has been since I've felt comfortable wearing a dress?? I'm so stinkin' excited!

Fable #3: I'm uncomfortable talking about my weight. Correction: Other people are uncomfortable talking about it.
In American culture, when someone says, "My hair looks awful," the natural response is to say, "Noooo, it looks great!" To "My makeup is too thick" we say "I think it looks fabulous!" So, naturally, when someone says "I'm fat," the instinctual response is to say, "No, you're not!" But you can't really say that to a person who is obese because, well, everyone - including the obese person - knows it's not true. There is no scripted response when that person talks about his or her weight. There's no obvious reply. People shift in their seats. They look at their feet. It's uncomfortable. I know. Don't worry. Here's all I'm tryin' to say with this fable: I don't talk about it in public because I know it makes people uncomfortable. But this whole weight-loss thing is an important part of my life right now. It's changing things (I hope). It's giving me a healthier, longer future (I pray). It's an area of bondage in my life from which God is actively working to free me. That doesn't make me uncomfortable. It makes me excited. So ask me the difficult questions. Talk to me about it in casual conversation. I'm coo' wid'dat.

So that's it, y'all. That's pretty much all I have to say on the matter... for today.

Here's hoping for a great week and lots and lots of yummy, healthy food...

__________________________________

End of week 2: 14.5 pounds lost!

I'm just sayin' y'all....

2010-02-04T18:34:00.000-08:00

with a baked apple and some cinnamon on top.

Qualified Cheating

2010-02-03T20:20:00.000-08:00

I broke my diet tonight. But you know what? I’m okay with that. You see, there have been times over the past week that I have been sooooo tempted to scarf down a cheeseburger at McD’s, or devour a HUGE slice of death by chocolate cake, or inhale a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. But I have resisted because I’m doing my very best to keep the end results in mind: “Will that decision help me become who I am called to be?”

So what happened tonight? Well, for starters, I ate real sushi for the first time in my life. Some of it I loved; some of it I did not love. I also ate a salad with a scrumptious, flavor-packed ginger dressing. So while I did break my diet, it’s not like I went all-out, deep-fried, chocolate-smothered, butter-laden fat. I had fish and rice and lettuce and ginger. Mmmmm…

But that’s not why I don’t feel bad about breaking my diet tonight. The reason I feel like it was a really good decision was because of the company with which I “broke fast.” It was girls’ night ‘round these parts, and I had a blast with three lovely ladies from the office. As I got in the car on the way to the restaurant, I was completely torn as to what to do about my diet stuff when eatin' time came around. Would they have a calorie count of each and every California roll? Could I ask for “anything that doesn’t contain sugar, fat, oil, bread, rice, carbs, starch, or more than 100 calories?”

It didn’t seem likely.

But it only took a few minutes with these ladies to realize that, if I chose to stress over this meal in order to stay on the diet, I would completely lose the true blessing of getting to know the women sitting around the table with me. It was in that second that the choice became clear: a set-back in my diet is sooo worth a step forward in friendship. And I have a feeling, these friends are gonna be totally worth it…

And so, as we sat down at the table, I smiled: “I’ve never eaten real sushi before. What do y’all like?”

Movin' and Groovin'

2010-02-02T19:07:00.000-08:00

Can I just say, tonight ranks pretty high in the great nights of parenting.

In one night, Maple Anne said her first word AND semi-crawled across the floor.

There was one night a few weeks ago where we thought waving arms and "bah bah bah" was actually her first word of "bye, bye." We were wrong. But then... tonight... she dropped a toy and said, "Ah, Uh oh!" Of course, I was alone in the room and thought, "Yeah right, that was a fluke." So when Brandon walked in, I said, "I swear she just said 'Uh oh'." As if on cue, she giggled and said, "Uh oh." It has been the word of the night. When she drops something. When she topples over. When she just feels like talking: "Uh oh."

Not too long after that first word, we put her on the floor to do her standard roll-around. Next thing we know, she's doing a military-style crawl across the room. Arms and legs were moving in time; she was moving forward in one certain direction. All she's lacking is actually getting her belly off the ground. Still, this too was no fluke. We kept moving toys several feet in front of her, and she kept military crawling to get them.

All the while, big sister Chloe was clapping and cheering and encouraging her on.

I tell you what, it was a big night in the Thixton household. A big, big night.

Day 5: teeny tiny crisis

2010-02-01T20:54:00.001-08:00

It's way past my bedtime. I breezed past the laptop on the way to take my night-time meds, but as I turned to head towards the sound of snores that were wafting from my bedroom (poor hubby has a cold), it beckoned. I swear, y'all, it called my name. And since I didn't blog yesterday (oops!) I thought I'd pop in for a little update.

Physically, things are bit rough today. My hormones are going a nuts, as evidenced by the THREE hot flashes that laid siege in the early morning hours. I'm not very hungry these days. As a matter of fact, I realized at lunch that I had completely forgotten breakfast! It was a super sweet treat to have an extra piece of fruit to munch on this afternoon.

But I don't want to talk about the diet or the hormones or the hot flashes or the food tonight.

Because today, today I have had something else on the brain. It's something that has been bugging me for a few months now, but it really came into focus as I stood in the face-wash aisle of the new CVS down the road.

I think, perhaps, I'm having a mild identity crises. I said mild, y'all, calm down. You see, up until January of 2009, I pretty much knew who I was. I knew my favorite beverage (Starbucks Sumatra with one pack of Sweet'n'Low - NOT Splenda). I knew my favorite color (red). I knew what I like to wear (hats and scarves and red red red). I knew myself. And I was pretty (perhaps overly) confident in that person.

Then I went to Korea. Korean coffee is instant - with cream and sugar already mixed in. I drank it every single morning for a year. Now I must have cream and sweetener in my coffee (preferably sugar or Splenda). And red? Well, nobody decorated with red EVER. And do you want to know who wore red clothing? Sweet old ladies. So now I don't know... do people my age wear red in America?

But it goes deeper than all that...

I'm having a hard time putting this into words...

Before Korea, I didn't have time to think about who I was because I was too busy thinking about what I was doing. Life was overwhelming. Work, school, church, babies, cooking, cleaning, driving... I swear I spent half my life in the car.

But when I went to Korea, and after the initial culture shock wore off, I realized that I really like who I am. I got to think - free of any of the things that had previously identified me. My job, my cooking skills, my unique (read: odd)fashion sense - all of those things were gone. It was just me, in my quiet home.

But now I'm back. And life is busy again. Job, church, grocery store, hair cut, car wash, bank, pediatrician, preschool... and in the midst of this hubbub, I find myself struggling to find a footing.

So where does the face wash aisle at CVS come in?

I have a $1 coupon for one - rather pricey - brand of face wash. I may or may not have mentioned that I LUH-HUV me some Korean face wash, and the last itty-bitty bit of my very last bottle ran out... two weeks ago. (Shampoo is a poor substitute.) So I'm standing in the aisle debating over whether I should get the brand for which I have a coupon or get cheaper, less appealing brand sitting next to it. (Just so we're in the same ballgame here, I'm talking about a price difference of about $2.) Seriously, y'all, I stood in that aisle, like, 10 minutes. Then I put it down and walked around. Then I came back and picked it up.

Twice.

And as I'm sitting there debating over this $2-more-expensive face wash, I heard a clear question in my mind: "Does this product fit into who you want to be?" And the answer surprised me: yes.

When I was using the Korean face wash, which gave me silky-smooth skin and small pores, I felt beautiful. I felt confident. And though (I'm sure) no one else in the world could tell a difference, I knew - I felt - that I was beautiful.

Good face wash... makes me a better person.

And with that rather unsettling fact floating around in my head, I have realized something that I have somehow missed up to this point.

Last year, the year of the reset button, we were handed a fairly blank slate in life. Most of the mistakes we have made - especially in the area of priorities - were completely wiped away. And as we took our first steps on American soil, we were walking into a new life. Praise God!

But here's the thing about blank slates... they can become whatever you want them to be. They can be beautiful or ugly. Brite or dark. They can be a unique masterpiece... or they can look exactly like another one you've seen (or lived) before.

And as weird as it sounds, I feel like the question that was posed to me in the face wash aisle of the new CVS is one that the Lord has given me regarding every single area of this new life He has given us.

Does this decision... this action... this hobby... this purchase... this attitude... this bite of food... fit into who I want to be?

But more importantly... does it fit into who I AM in HIM?

These are questions I plan to ask myself a lot more often.

Thank you, Lord, for crumbling my city, and thank you for rebuilding my walls.

Day 3... mindless rambling...

2010-01-30T20:30:00.001-08:00

So today was a pretty laid-back Saturday. Cleaning house, watching TV, cuddling with my family... but in the midst of all this, several thoughts popped into my head of which I thought, "Hm... I should blog about that."

But, as it is after 10pm and my night-time hormone meds are kickin' in, I can't seem to make any single thought, in and of itself, a complete post.

Hence, your friend and mine, the list format:

1. I think about food A LOT, and I find myself thinking of some yummy (read: fattening) dish and saying to myself, "After this three months is up, I am TOTALLY going to eat that." But today, I realized something: those fattening dishes are part of the reason I am in this mess today. Sure my hormone issues caused my body to store more fat than it should, but I was the one who put that fat in there in the first place. I need to start thinking of this change as a life-long change. Obviously, I can't eat 600 calories a day for the rest of my life, but I can start thinking of food differently... and permanently.

2. I don't really appreciate food. The foods that I think about and crave during this diet are foods that really take no skill to make. I think about boxed brownies. I think about cheese fries. I think about cereal. The thing is, those foods are absolutely no good for my body, and though I see them as a "treat," there is absolutely nothing special about them. At the beginning of this year, I committed to myself that I would try something new at every restaurant I go to. And you know what? I have had some AMAZING foods. Grilled chicken with pineapple glaze. Mashed sweet potatoes with cinnamon. A salmon Caesar salad that'll make you wanna slap your mama. THOSE are treats. THOSE are special dishes that take skill, money, and - hello! - ingredients that I can pronounce. Hence, I have decided to start thinking of those foods as a rare "treat" and the other foods as, well, the junk that they are.

3. This week, I bought all broccoli and cauliflower for our veggies because they were on sale at WalMart for $0.98 for a 2-pound bag. Savings or no savings, I will not make that mistake again. I am so. sick. of broccoli. Blech.

4. I have some clothes that were too big for me going into this diet. Should I just go ahead and get rid of them now?

5. Though it is not technically the end of the first seven days on the diet, it is the end of the calendar week. So... it's time for the big announcement:

At the end of day three...

I HAVE LOST 7 POUNDS!!!

Ahhhh yeeeeeeah.....

Day 2...

2010-01-29T19:32:00.000-08:00

Somewhere around 1pm today, I had an epiphany.

I wasn't hungry.

I'm eating 600 calories today, and I'm not ALWAYS hungry.

Niiiiiiiice.

One Spoonful at a Time

2010-01-28T20:38:00.000-08:00

I never realized how much mindless munching I do.

Pop a bag of popcorn for Chloe; grab a couple fluffy kernels for myself.

Smear some peanut butter on ritz crackers for the kids' afternoon snack; eat the remaining peanut butter off the spoon.

Open a cup of mandarin oranges in light syrup; drink the "juice" so it won't spill.

A peppermint candy here; a little piece of cookie there.

Twice today I had to spit food out of my mouth that I had - literally - mindlessly put in there.

It's so easy to just pop a small morsel of calorie-packed food into my mouth without giving it a second thought.

Is it any wonder that, when I add up my calories at the end of the day, I have no idea why I'm not in better shape than I am?

It hit me like a swiss cake roll today as I tried to reverse-swallow the "light syrup" that was sailing down my throat. I am probably "forgetting" hundreds of calories a day because I'm eating them one small bite, one convenient sip, one careless gulp at a time.

Day 1. Lesson learned.

On the eve of the day...

2010-01-27T20:14:00.000-08:00

25 months ago, a nurse told me that I should see a specialist about my weight and my "female" issues...

19 months ago, I finally did it...

18 months ago, I started on my first month of treatment...

17 months ago, I weighed in 19 pounds less than I had one month prior...

16 months and 27 days ago, I found out I was pregnant...

For seventeen months, I have patiently waited for this night.

I waited through nine months of pregnancy...

I waited through 11 months in Korea...

I waited through the holidays and through my family's weekend in the cabin (which, inevitably, focuses around food)...

And here I am, on the eve of the big day... the day when I start, once again, on my 600-calorie-a-day diet.

The challenge: 600 calories a day for 20 days; then 800 calories a day for 70 more days (under doctor's supervision, and with plenty of supplements and drugs).

I went to the store and stocked my fridge with fruits, vegetables, and boneless skinless chicken breasts...

I ate the boat-loads of fat I was instructed to eat the day before...

I had a "last meal" with my friend Christan...

So that tomorrow... tomorrow I will begin my journey to better health, regulated hormones, and (I hope) extreme weight-loss.

As an ode to what I hope will be this new phase of life, I am setting forth some new challenges:

1. I will eat only 600 calories a day for 20 days.

2. I will not cheat - not one time; not one calorie.

3. I will blog every day for the next 20 days (why are you snickering?)

4. I will report my results at the end of every week (no, I won't tell my weight. are you nuts?)

5. I will not get pregnant.

Now, these are not promises from my computer to yours. These are challenges that I have set for myself. They are goals. They are plans. They are only as infallible as the person who is attempting them.

But, y'all, I feel like this is my last shot.

I know that sounds dramatic. I know it sounds hyperbolic (how's that for a fi'ty-cent word?). But it's really how I feel.

Everything is lined up. My husband and best friend are doing the diet with me and in support of me (with a few more calories thrown in for good measure because, you know, they're not crazy). My parents are blessing me with "free" treatment from my doctor.

My life is in order.

I am not pregnant.

I am not sick.

I am not on the other side of the world.

This times is all set up for my success, if I will only take advantage of it.

So there it is, y'all. That's what's up in my life. This is the big change that's (hopefully) coming.

It's good, y'all. It's reeeeeal good.

Too much or Too Little

2010-01-12T20:18:00.000-08:00

So, I may or may not have mentioned that, upon our arrival in the states, I started a new job.

It's full time. My kids come with me. I feel as if I'm using my strengths to make a difference. It's all pretty awesome.

But I don't want to talk about the job... I want to talk about me (as all decent narcissistic bloggers should).

The problem with me in this new job is, well, I'm rather stressed. And when I say rather, I mean super-freakin' terribly stressed. And when I say stressed, I mean come home in tears, wonder if I made the right choice stressed. And the thing is, in the midst of all this new and all this stress and all this work...I forgot...

...I forgot that I don't like the person that I am under stress.
...I forgot that sometimes I get tunnel vision and prioritize finished products over people.
...I forgot that I have a hard time leaving work at work.
...I forgot that making the switch from "boss" at work and "wife" at home is not so easy for me.
...I forgot that sometimes I am too much for people.
...I forgot that sheer willpower isn't always enough.
...I forgot that I am not superwoman.

I forgot all those things... until this week.

Then, like a flood of stank-scented reality, I remembered: I really need my friend Jesus.

Because when all the laundry is completed and the kids are bathed, when dinner is on the table and I am at peace, when life is easy and everything is in place, I forget... I forget that I need Him... I forget that, without Him, I am a spiteful, ugly, mean, conceited, self-absorbed sinner.

And when things get tough... and when I forget that I need Him... I start to think that this is who I am. I'm bitter. I'm incapable of handling difficulties. I'm easily angered. I'm difficult to deal with. This is who I am.

So... tonight... as He gently reminds me that, in Him, I am beautiful, and patient, and kind, and tenderhearted, and slow to anger... as He shows me once again that I am only and truly who He tells me I am... I go to sleep with a different view of tomorrow.

In Him, I am bold yet gentle.
In Him, I am strong yet meek.
In Him, I am neither too much nor too little.
In Him, I am called for such a time as this.

Lord, help me remember who YOU say that I am.

Gonna Write a Letter (GWL): To My Alabama Angel

2010-01-10T08:38:00.000-08:00

It's been a long time coming, but here is the first installment of Gonna Write a Letter. Hip Hip Hooray!!!!!!!! Woo Hooooo!!! and Yippeeee!!!!

So, without further ado, a letter:

Dear Alabama Angel,

You will forever hold a very special, warm place in my heart. I wish I knew your real name so I could send this letter to your supervisor because, if it were up to me, you would be the most important, top, head, boss of all the other flight attendants at Delta airlines. I can only assume you are from Alabama because of the way your eyes lit up when you talked about going to the Auburn games. And I call you "Angel" because, well, you looked over me and my girls, protected us, comforted us, and cared for us during the entire 12 hour flight from Tokyo to Atlanta.

While the other flight attendants made me feel like a nuisance and inconvenience at best, you went out of your way to let me know that you were on my side, fighting (or flighting, tee hee) beside me.

You will never know what it meant to my culture-shocked mommy's heart to have an American coo over my baby and wink at my preschooler. You never hesitated to help me heat up a bottle or let me go to the bathroom.

Oh, my dear Alabama Angel, the story you told me after the incident about your baby -- it still makes chuckle to myself when I think about the Indian man sitting in front of you on that plane saying "What is that smell? What is that smell?" after you baby had spit up for the 100th time.

I still tear up a little bit when I think about you telling me that story.

You were so warm. So kind. So understanding after everything happened. You were the only. person. who saw the incident from my point of view - a young mom with two small children traveling alone... whose baby had just spit up all over a stranger.

My dear, dear, dear Alabama Angel. I am forever grateful for your kindness and empathy during that flight, and I pray that God will return the blessing to you one thousand fold.

Blessings and prayers and turbulent-free flights,
Brandy

Gonna Write a Letter

2009-12-28T04:31:00.000-08:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, children of aaaalllllll ages, friends, foes, and fellow countrymen... listen up, y'all! I figured things are getting a little, shall we say, heavy 'round these parts; so I thought I'd take this opportunity to start a little thing we bloggers call a meme. Although, I guess it's technically only a meme if someone copies it and spreads it. Any takers?

Well, whether you call it a meme or a theme or just something to write about when my brain is fried, I am proud to introduce: Gonna Write a Letter or GWL.

Who among us hasn't come home from a vacation, a store, a fast-food drive-through and said, "I'm gonna write a letter to that manager... or owner... or CEO... or President of the United States"? I have probably said that phrase a ka-jillion times in my life, yet I have never, not once ever, written one of those letters. And since I am probably too chicken to ever actually send a letter like that, I have decided to post them here for your viewing entertainment.

Now, here are the rules:

1.) You can write a letter to any person or organization you choose: past, present, or future.

2.) The letters can be positive ("Hey, thanks for not laughing when I fell down the escalator.") or negative ("I don't think french fries are supposed to taste like dirt.")

3.) Keep it chruhstian, y'all. (If you're not from the deep south, chruhstian, pronounced "Kruhr-Stiuhn," is literally translated "Christian" but is more often used in looser translations as "No curse words and only PG themes.")

4.) Write the letter on your blog or (if you don't have a blog and would still like to participate) email your letter to brandythixton at yahoo dot com. Just make sure you title it GWL so I don't think you're telling me that you didn't appreciate the look I gave you across the register last Thursday.

Eventually, I might add a timeline like "First Thursday of the month" or "Every Monday at 8:30am" or somesuch nonsense. But seeing as how I can't seem to keep my regular blog updated at decent intervals, I don't think I can make any grand promises about how often this little meme/theme will pop up. If you don't like it, write me a letter. :)

Stay tuned for my first Gonna Write a Letter....

2010: Part 2 (Alternate Title: The Year of Random Resolutions)

2009-12-26T04:44:00.001-08:00

Ok, so lets get down to the nitty-gritty of 2010. (Can I just say how much I love the word(s?) nitty-gritty? I love the sound. Just say them over and over... nittygritty nittygritty nittygritty. They're fun, yes?)So, the nitty-gritty of 2010. This is where the rubber meets the road, where we attempt to live out the things that God has put in our hearts over the past twelve months. It's a new beginning. Tabula Rasa. Blank Slate.

I luh-huv a new year. And 2010 promises a slew of resolutions:

1. Lose weight. Original, no? Seriously though, I have an appointment with good ol' Dr.Z on Monday where I will get the okay to begin my hormone therapy once again. Barring any unforeseen pregnancy (like last time), I plan on continuing the treatment for three months, which will (hopefully) kick off the rest of my weight-loss for the rest of the year.

2. Refresh the little wells. Kim Heinecke wrote a post about the little wells in her home. She reminded me that "What's in the well will come up in the bucket." While my little one has a lot of Mickey Mouse and Barbie Princess and Ariel in her well, I'm ashamed to say there's not a lot of Scripture. So we are adding "Verse of the Month" to her repertoire. Taking a cue from Aunt Martha, we have a tradition of saying/singing things while we brush Chloe's teeth. It helps her to learn things (songs, ABC's, counting) and provides for a great distraction while doing a task that she hates. So this year? We'll be quoting scripture during those times. One verse a month. So that, theoretically, she will have a new verse memorized at the end of every month. Genius, no?

3. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle. Among the principles we want our children to learn is the principle of stewardship. In money, of course, but also in managing the earth and its resources. We might not be able to reduce the use of fossil fuels or restore the demolished rain forests, but we can separate our paper, plastic, aluminum, and glass. And so we shall.

4. Avoid Stuffitis. Dave Ramsey says that many Americans suffer from a disease called Stuffitis - the need for more "stuff." In Korea, we lived with less "stuff" than I ever though possible. While I am thoroughly enjoying the comforts of American living, I would love to keep that Korean mentality of "less is more."

5. Jingle and Jangle and Change for Africa. More on this later...

6. Bake. I love to bake. Seriously, it might be my most favorite way to calm down after a long and difficult day. But I'm tired of the old stand-by's: chocolate chip cookies and apple pies. I want to learn yummy pastries and scrumptious tarts. I want to layer cakes and whip frosting. So my goal is to learn two new baking recipes a month. But... since I'm going to be working with Dr.Z and avoiding all things baked, I'll need some guinea pigs to tell me how everything tastes... any volunteers?

7. Cook a Goose. Yes, a goose. A whole, beautiful, goose. Like in the Charles Dickens novels. I just have to figure out where to buy one... and how to save up for it...

So. That's it. I wish I had 10 resolutions, just because that would make a nice, tidy blog post.

Se la vie.

Alrighty then... I might be out of touch for a few days because my sweet hubby has planned a little trip for us and because Christmas is not completely over for our immediate family and because I will have an entire day in the car heading back to Memphis. So, yeah.

I guess I'll see ya when I see ya... Lord willin' and the creek don't rise.

2010: Part 1

2009-12-21T20:48:00.001-08:00

Over the last year, one passage of scripture continually comes into my mind. During prayer, during church, when I wake up, when I go to sleep, when I'm washing my dishes, in conversation, in messages, in music -- it seems to be popping up everywhere.

Then, my first night in our new home, I finally realized why the Lord keeps bringing these verses to my attention.

They're found in Hosea chapter 2, which starts in verse 2 like this...

Rebuke your mother, rebuke her,
for she is not my wife,
and I am not her husband.
Let her remove the adulterous look from her face
and the unfaithfulness from between her breasts.

Daaaaaang, y'all. He ain't kiddin' around.

The background of this story goes something like this: God instructs Hosea, a prophet, to marry Gomer, a prostitute, as a symbol of God's relationship with Israel, who has been selling herself to her "lovers" (other gods) and committing adultery against God.

It's kind of harsh. Are y'all ready for this? Lets start again at verse 3:

Otherwise I will strip her naked
and make her as bare as on the day she was born;
I will make her like a desert,
turn her into a parched land,
and slay her with thirst.

Vengeful much? verses 5-13:

She said, 'I will go after my lovers,
who give me my food and my water,
my wool and my linen, my oil and my drink.'

Therefore I will block her path with thornbushes;
I will wall her in so that she cannot find her way.

She will chase after her lovers but not catch them;
she will look for them but not find them.
Then she will say,
'I will go back to my husband as at first,
for then I was better off than now.'

She has not acknowledged that I was the one
who gave her the grain, the new wine and oil,
who lavished on her the silver and gold—
which they used for Baal.

"Therefore I will take away my grain when it ripens,
and my new wine when it is ready.
I will take back my wool and my linen,
intended to cover her nakedness.

So now I will expose her lewdness
before the eyes of her lovers;
no one will take her out of my hands.

I will stop all her celebrations:
her yearly festivals, her New Moons,
her Sabbath days—all her appointed feasts.

I will ruin her vines and her fig trees,
which she said were her pay from her lovers;
I will make them a thicket,
and wild animals will devour them.

I will punish her for the days
she burned incense to the Baals;
she decked herself with rings and jewelry,
and went after her lovers,
but me she forgot,"
declares the LORD.

Can I just be honest here? I have a haaaard time with these verses. This isn't the God I know. The God I know is gracious, slow to anger, abounding in mercy, and gentle in His discipline. But this God, the one of Hosea, He ain't playin' no games, y'all. This is His bride we're talking about here! He removes all her security, all her earnings. Doesn't He know what she went through -- what she did -- to earn those vineyards? Those fig trees are a part of her. She is more secure than all other women because she has figs and grain and oil of her own... food and goods that she literally sold herself to attain. And now He destroys it all. As if that weren't enough, He strips her down, exposes her in public. He humiliates her in every way possible.

Verse 14:

Therefore I am now going to allure her;
I will lead her back into the desert
and speak tenderly to her.

I tell you what, I don't like my husband even looking at me after we've had an argument. You mean to tell me that this God who just stripped everything away and completely humiliated her now wants to take her into the dirty, dry, parched desert and whisper sweet nothings into her ear?

But something beautiful happens in that desert. Something lovely and mysterious and supernatural occurs in that dry, dusty, lonely place:

Verse 15:

There I will give her back her vineyards,
and I will make her Valley of [Trouble] a Door of Hope.
There she will sing as in the days of her youth,
as in the day she came up out of Egypt.

After everything has been stripped away. Every thing she had acheived. All the things that told her who she was. Her jewelry. Her suggestive wardrobe. Her financial security. Any semblance of who she had been. When every single reminder of the shame and resignation that came with her occupation had been completely demolished. When He had completely destroyed her old identity...

He slayed her with thirst in the desert, and became her water and nourishment.

He removed her foundation, and became a strong chest and a broad shoulder on which she could lean.

He removed the name "lover" from her lips, and became her husband.

Men paid for her body.

He made her priceless.

Men treated her like a whore.

He made her His bride.

How do I know what happened in the desert? How am I certain beyond any doubt that, though He seemed vicious, it was His mercy and unfailing love that lead her into the desert? How can I possibly understand the myserious and beautiful transformation that happened in that place?

Because....

I am Gomer.

I have sold myself. For money. For sleep. For a television show. For a nicer car. For a better body. For some personal time. For friendships. For love.

I have sold away pieces of myself time and time again to achieve some semblance of security, of balance, of a life that everyone dreams of.

And it has all, in one way or another, been stripped away.

That, my friends, is what has happened over the past five years.

I have made plans and developed ideas. I have bought property and saved money. I have told myself that, because I had made wise choices, I was secure. And that security was my god. Sure, I was still "married" to the Lord. But He was not my security. I had not acknowledged that He was the one who gave me the grain, the new wine and oil, who lavished on me the silver and gold. And I used it for myself and to strengthen my sense of security.

But those things were stripped away. One by one, the things in which I had put my trust began to falter and crumble. I realized that the things for which I had sold myself - my time, my energy, my love, my passion - were dwindling away.

Spiritually, emotionally, financially, physically - I was, I am - slayed with thirst.

And it was in that place where I realized. He is my source. He is my strength. He is my foundation. He is my security.

So, here it is, the year of 2010. And would you like to know what I truly believe He has in store for me this year?

Verses 15-16:

There I will give her back her vineyards,
and will make the Valley of [Trouble] a door of hope.
There she will sing as in the days of her youth,
as in the day she came up out of Egypt.

"In that day," declares the LORD,
"you will call me 'my husband';
you will no longer call me 'my master.'"

In that day I will make a covenant for them
with the beasts of the field and the birds of the air
and the creatures that move along the ground.
Bow and sword and battle
I will abolish from the land,
so that all may lie down in safety.

I will betroth you to me forever;
I will betroth you in righteousness and justice,
in love and compassion.

I will betroth you in faithfulness,
and you will acknowledge the LORD.

2005-2009 in one super-dee-duper long post.

2009-12-19T22:14:00.000-08:00

It's 12:14am in Memphis, Tennessee. So many things have happened over the past three weeks that I can hardly decide what to write first. I have a list of things I want to tell you all about: the highs and oh-so-lows of our plane ride to the states, Thanksgiving week in Athens, my first Target run since December of 2008, our cozy little apartment in Memphis, the first two weeks at my new job, the anticipation of Christmas and seeing my sweet hubby for the first time in over a month. So many thoughts swimming around in my head and aching to make their way onto my computer screen.

But, as I said, it's 12:14am, and my littlest one will be awake and hungry in mere hours.

So instead I'll just skip to the thing that has really been consuming my thoughts over these past few days: 2010.

I know, I know. Christmas isn't even here yet. There's still a lot of shopping for presents and stuffing stockings and reading cards and drinking egg nog and singing carols to get done before we start making New Years resolutions.

But I feel that 2010 is will be a special year for me and for our little family.

This is going to sound weird, but I feel as though my years have themes. As I look back, in particular, over the past 5 years, I see a series of lessons and themes that weave their way throughout the weeks and months. I have spent much time this past week thinking and praying over what those years have taught me, and what I can expect for the next one. If I could sum up the past five years in a few (or a lot of) sentences, it would look somthing like this:

2005 was The Year of Intimacy. Spiritually and emotionally speaking, this year was the pits. In the first quarter of the year, we were in an accident that totalled our car and left me in a lot of pain. In the summer, we obediently moved to where the Lord was calling us. For me personally, it was the most difficult move I have ever made. Though I understand now why that move was so significant, at the time, it felt like a very cruel and hurtful trick. In December of that year, I was told in no uncertain terms that I would probably never have children. So why is 2005 called "The Year of Intimacy"? Because that was the year, more than any other year, when I learned to hear God's voice - and feel His peace - in the midst of the raging storm. Never before had I experienced such a difficult year. Never before had I needed so desperately to know God's grace and peace. Never before had I felt His peace and presence in my life, despite my circumstances.

2006 was The Year of Manna. If you don't know, the Hebrew word for Manna literally means "What is it?" You could also call this year The Year of Big Change. That title may surprise some of you, considering how many changes our family has gone through since 2006, but this was the year that set all the other changes into motion. Exactly one month after I sat across from a doctor as she told me my "chocolate chip" ovaries would probably prevent me from ever coneiving, I sat across from another doctor as she confirmed what I had been suspecting for a few days - I was pregnant. I was in school, working full-time, and still trying to recover from 2005. And everything changed. Before I knew it, I had quit school, cut my work hours in half, purchased a second home, took out a loan on a "family car," and - somewhere along the way - grew a baby (plus 49 pounds or so). Changes were happening faster than my little brain could wrap around them, and I had to trust that, though I couldn't see the big picture or know our future plans, God could see and did know. In 2006, I learned to just be obedient TODAY. Be where I'm supposed to be, do what I'm supposed to do, trust the Lord to provide our needs... Today. "Because tomorrow can worry about itself..."

2007 was The Year of the Bad Attitude. Who, me? A bad attitude? Whateverdude. *rolling my eyes* So, a lot happened in 2007. I was totally stoked about spiritual things. Went to this really awesome all-day prayer thingy called "The Call." Got some pretty cool prophetic words about great things the Lord will do in us in the distant future. Heard some great sermons. Traveled long distances to participate in some great worship... I say these things sarcastically, not because they aren't important, but because I was a little bit (or a lot bit) like Joseph with his dreams. I looked wholly and completely at the dreams and visions God had given us for the future... while completely disengaging the here and now. I hated my job. I hated cleaning my house. I hated school. I wasn't a fan of the responsibility that came along with being a wife and mother. I just wanted to, you know, preach and pray and praise and talk about super-spiritual things. All the while, laundry and dishes and dust piled up. As my dad would say, I was "Too Heavenly minded to be any Earthly good." That might offend some folk' out there, but I'm just tellin' it like it is, y'all. And to be honest, there was no great lesson this year. Except, maybe, dreams don't bring home the bacon, amen?

2008 The Year of "Ah-ha!" Pardon the Oprah-esque nominclature, but if I had a penny for every time I learned something new that year, I'd have, like 100 pennies. Don't laugh, dude, that's a double cheeseburger at Mickey D's, yo. January of 2008 was weird. It was like somebody woke me up from a dream and said, "Hey, your life is falling apart. Shouldn't you, like, fix it or something?" Honestly, I think the Lord opened my eyes to some patterns that had emerged (or grown stronger?) in 2007 in my home, my marriage, my spiritual walk, my family. I went to Dr.Z and found out that there was a "disease" in my body that affected the way I functioned. I went to a counselor and realized that there was a "disease" in the way I viewed marriage that affected the way I related to my husband, my home, and even my children. If I could sum up the lessons of 2008 into one phrase it would be, "You got alllllll wrong, guhl." By the end of that year, one thing was very clear to me: My life, our family, our home, it all had some changes that needed to be made. But how?

Enter 2009: The Year of the Reset Button. (I won't repost all that stuff, since this post is already 2 days long and since I just wrote about 2009, like, a month ago.)

So here we are... 2010... and what's in store for next year, God willing? Stay tuned to find out...

Seriously though... come back soon... I'll tell you about 2010 goals, like, soon...

...

....

You're coming back, right?

My Christmas Reminder...

2009-12-16T11:38:00.001-08:00

Yesterday I had a discouraging doctor's appointment.

Almost seven months after Maple's birth, my body is still striving to make itself whole. It looks like we still have a way to go.

In the midst of my discouragement and (I'll just say it) self-pity, I clicked over onto one of my most favorite blogs ever, and read THIS.

I am so grateful today that my God loves me this much.

I'll Be Home for Christmas....or thereafter...

2009-12-11T12:41:00.000-08:00

Yes, we're alive.

Yes, we're doing fine.

No, we do not have internet access at our house yet.

Yes, I will post some decent updates as soon as I have both internet access and a home computer.

No, that will not be before Christmas.

No, it probably won't be before the New Year.

Yes, I am quite upset too.

See you soon, loves.

Highlight of the trip...

2009-11-21T17:40:00.000-08:00

Would you like to know the most exciting part of our 22-hour trip back to the states?

It wasn't when they almost wouldn't let us leave the country due to a micommunication regarding our green cards.

It wasn't when Maple's airplane bassinet fell off the wall to which it was attached.

It wasn't when I realized I had only ONE pacifier for the entire trip because I had left the rest sitting at our back door.

It wasn't when Maple grabbed my salad and dumped it in my lap, dressing and all.

Would you really like to know the most exciting part?

Let's play a game. I'll give you a few words, and you tell me what they have in common.

Carpet.
Airplane seat.
Shoe.
Sock.
Pants.
Shirt.
Tray.
Carry-on luggage.
Book.
Hands.
Arms.
Laptop.

Any guesses? Anyone? You, there in the back? No?

Ok. I thought it was obvious.

This is a list of items that belonged to the man sitting across the aisle from me.

This is also a list of items, belonging to that man, which were covered in baby spit up after Maple projectile vomitted across that aisle.

And in case you were wondering...

...inside the shoe.
...laptop completely crashed.

...

...

...

Yeah....

Meltdown

2009-11-14T14:52:00.000-08:00

I mentioned in my last post that I was a little stressed last night while packing. My husband happened to catch my little breakdown on video. So, my dear readers, for your viewing pleasure...

I Don't Need Anything. - Every10Mins.com

(Shout out to Jessi C. for this inspiration!)

Now is the time...

2009-11-14T14:05:00.000-08:00

It's early Sunday morning here in Korea. The snow has been falling since about 10:30 last night but only sticking to the cars and bushes. It's only 7:05am, and the parking lot is already filling up with cars and older women with umbrellas. Our clothes are all laid out. Chloe will wear a denim skirt, two or three layers of sweaters, and her new rainbow sweater stockings. Maple is wearing a fuzzy warm pants set over her panda bear pajamas. I'm wearing what I have worn every Sunday morning for the past ten months: black pants, modest solid shirt, low ponytail, ballet flats. In just a few minutes, Brandon's alarm will go off, and he will stumble out of the bedroom with his crazy hair. Chloe will crack her door and peer out to see if "the sunshine is awake." Our day will be busy, yet somehow peaceful, routine, cathartic.

This is my last Sunday in Korea.

Last night, after the girls were in bed, I sat in the living room stuffing and cramming and packing every single little bit of space in my 4.2 suitcases. And I was stressed. Like, burst into tears kind of stress. I didn't give into it, but I felt it creeping up the back of my throat - that lump that comes around when I try to swallow some threatening emotion.

I'm very excited to go back home. To the states.

I'm very excited about the turn our life has taken here in Korea and about seeing where this new road will lead.

I'm very excited about Memphis and all that that entails.

But this week is going to be hard. I have really come to love our home, and the people, here in Cheonan, and the thought of leaving all makes that lump start to creep up again.

I know we're doing the right thing, and I know it's ultimately what we need and want. But I think it's okay for me to have a season of sadness over what will be left behind...

Ecclesiastes 3

1 There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
2 a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
6 a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8 a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

Blogging like woah!

2009-11-12T02:32:00.000-08:00

So, the other day my long-distance long-time long-lovin' friend Olivia sent me a message on Ye Olde Facebook entitled, "Blogging like woah!" Which, can we all just nod in agreement that "Blogging like woah!" is a great message title? Well, the author of said title has laid claim to her own little corner of the bloggosphere over at Clearly Mysterious. Now, let me tell you, this girl has some writing skills, and if you give her a New York minute to find her groove, I can guarantee this blog will be... like... woah! Seriously.

So, in this cleverly titled facebook message, Olivia told me that she wanted some blogging advice from the most creative, talented, fearless, inspirational - not to mention drop-dead gorgeous - blogger she knows.

And since she wasn't available, Olivia asked me.

Oh, I slay myself.

As I crafted my response to her, I began to realize that while I could give a quick synopsis on how I blog, I really have no idea why I blog. The problem, of course, is that often the how and the why are so intertwined, it's difficult to tell where one stops and the other starts. Thus began my week-long attempt to define my blog.

While I still don't believe I have an exhaustive definition or explanation of my12hats, here is what I have discovered so far... In list format, no less...

How I blog...
1. First of all, I get a lot of inspiration from other bloggers. I have thirty (34!) blogs in my google reader, which I check every day. Some days, I read each and every one of them. Most days, I hit the top five or so. These blogging gals (and a couple guys) really challenge and inspire me. If it weren't for their influence, y'all would probably be reading about my cleaning list each week.

2. I have developed what has been affectionately termed "blogger's brain." I can't tell you how many times in a day some random, seemingly innocuous event happens and I think "this would make a great blog post!" This "ability" has proven quite useful and is the source of many of my posts. Of course, the problem naturally occurs wherein I live my life through the lens of entertainment, where any event that isn't worth blogging about isn't worth living. Perhaps that is an over exaggeration, but the truth is that there are times when I have to set it all aside for a while and remind myself that this blog is not the most important thing in my life and there are things about which I may never blog - like the feel of my daughter's hand on my face, or the sight of my husband hunched over his Bible - but which are moments that are totally worth living and remembering.

3. Write as if a stranger you love is reading. I know this sounds weird, but it's honestly what I think as I write many of my posts. "Someday my great, great grandchildren might read these little stories. What do I want them to know about me and my life?" This filter has given me the boldness to write about things which I might never have dared to discuss in public before. It has also helped me to tone down any drama, language, or questionable material I might consider putting on here from time to time.

4. Editing is for newspapers and authors. I know, I KNOW, there are some hard-core bloggers out there that would heartily disagree with me on this point, but if I try to triple proof-read every word and super analyze every sentence, well, lets just say my12hats would be one big empty pot o' nuthin right about now. Folks have sense enough to know you meant "there" when you wrote "their," and the ones that get their panties in a bunch about it... well... they're free to write all about it in their own little bloggo.

Now for the why...

1. I write for me. That's it. I would love to tell you that I write so my girls will have wonderful little stories to read about their childhood. I would love to say that I just do it for the love of blogging. I would love to say that I hope to minister to some lost soul through my writing.

But here's the honest truth: I like to write. I like to go back and re-read the stuff that I have written in the past. I like the way words sound when read aloud, and I love the way they look on a page. When I go back to those old journal entries from that 18-year-old version of me so many years ago, I feel like I am meeting with old friends... remembering the past with rose-colored glasses... laughing at my old dramatic flair... seeing how far the Lord has brought me from there...

2. I blog for the comments. I like comments. How's that for honesty? I wish I didn't like them. I wish I could write those words without coming across as needy. But sometimes I write about some gut-wrenching, soul-searching, paradigm-shifting stuff on this little blog. Every now and then, it's cathartic to put myself completely out there, completely exposed, completely vulnerable... and for someone to say "I understand and I approve." I know it's needy. I know I shouldn't want man's approval and blah blah blah... but comments tell me that someone in the world is feeling what I'm feeling... understanding where I'm coming from... identifying with my emotions. And I need that connection, especially with other women, every once in a while.

So, yeah, those are pretty selfish reasons to blog, and the answer to the "why" question was a difficult one, no doubt. But, well, there it is...

So, my dear Olivia, I am fairly certain that nothing I have written in this post will even remotely begin to help you find inspiration for your new blog. But, I have to tell you: your facebook message has provided me with ample brain food and blogging material this week. Thank you kindly. I'm much obliged.

And to those of you who are just reading my blog for the heck of it... scoot on over to Olivia's bloggy and give her some comment love. It's hard to start this whole blogging thing, and we blogger babes gotta stick together, yo.

Reset

2009-11-07T21:00:00.000-08:00

This is a long post. Ye be warned.

Back in the beginning of the summer, our air conditioner in the living room kept going out. These Korean A/C units are basically one big remote-controlled cold-air-pushing vent in the middle of the ceiling, and for some reason, ours would work for a few hours and then cut out... for days... while we waited on the repairman to make his way back to our house. In the meantime, it was sweltering sticky nasty hot in our house, even with the windows open and 2.5 kajillion fans blowing.

Since we couldn't speak Korea, we had no idea why our unit kept going out, except that maybe we were pushing the wrong button on the remote. So when it would start blowing out hot air, I just started pushing buttons until the cold air came back... or didn't... which would lead to another 3 days of heat while waiting for the repairman. It was a vicious cycle.

Then one magical day, while my hubby and I were watching a movie, we kept hearing a soft clicking sound somewhere in the house. Eventually, we realized that the soft clicking sound coincided with the volume control on our TV remote. Volume up... click. click. click. Volume down... click. click. click. Then the A/C broke.

Perhaps you see where I'm going with this. Brandon is the one who finally made the discovery. Our air conditioner is a certain name brand that we shall call Taxmemore because that's the song that Uncle Sam. Sung. So our A/C unit was Taxmemore, and our TV was Taxmemore, which means the TV remote was Taxmemore. All this meant that, in an attempt to regulate the volume on our Telly, we were repeatedly telling our air conditioner to reverse, spit out hot air, or completely shut down.

While it was my husband who made this harrowing discovery, it was I who discovered how to fix it. One particularly tropical day, I, in my 9-month-pregnant glory, stood in the middle of the living room and shouted at the rebellious unit for a good five minutes before my eye caught a glimmer of silver in the corner of the unit. There was a tiny hole which contained a little silver button. All this time, I had assumed it was simply a screw. But upon further inspection, I realized that beside the little hole, there was a teeny tiny word - in English, no less - RESET.

I scrounged around for a pin, stuck it in the little hole, pushed the silver button, and, Voila!, cold air.

....

A couple weeks ago, my friend Easter the Samonim asked me a question: "What has this year meant to you?" I can't really remember what I answered, but I think I mumbled something about family and good friends and new experiences.

But you know what? I think this 2009 has been the little silver button in the hole in the corner of my broken down life. A Reset.

You see, life has been cuh-razy over the past 6 years. In the last six years I...

...started a new job.
...dealt with a traumatic event.
...got engaged.
...started a new school.
...got married.
...moved to another state.
...went back to old school.
...started working in a new ministry.
...lived jobless for three months.
...started a new job.
...changed majors.
...got in a car accident with a semi.
...bought a car.
...moved back to Georgia.
...bought a duplex.
...went back to old job.
...went back to new school.
...got in another accident.
...bought another car.
...got pregnant.
...bought another duplex.
...car broke down beyond repair.
...bought another car.
...attempted to rent first duplex (x 1,357,937)
...had a baby.
...car broke down beyond repair.
...bought another car.
...attempted school, work, and baby.
...quit job.
...got a new job.
...changed majors.
...got pregnant.
...attempted to rent all four duplex units (still hasn't happened).
...moved to Korea.

In six years, y'all. Want to see the numbers?

We moved four times.
We drove seven cars.
I had five job changes.
We had two babies.

In. Six. Years.

The thing is, I never...never... stopped to think about what was going on. We just kept jumping from one thing to the next, trying to do what was best for our finances, our family, our careers, our marriage. But I'm not sure we ever really knew what we wanted... or what God wanted for us.

As I look back over the past six years, is it any wonder that we were mentally, emotionally, financially, and spiritually exhausted when we walked off that plane in Seoul, South Korea?

But this year, God in all His goodness, has given us a Reset button. I have had no choice but to stay in my quiet home every day, to reevaluate our life and my priorities, to really hash out what we want from life, and to fall in love with my family once again.

While we still have a lot of work to do and long road to walk, and while I still haven't gotten everything figured out, here are a few of the things I have learned from this year:

1. Whether I become a stay-at-home mom again, or I work a nine-to-fiver for the rest of my life, I don't ever want to be in the position where someone else tells me how to put my child down for a nap or what her favorite food is. That's my job.

2. I am a much much MUCH better mom, wife, housekeeper and all-around person when I go to bed at a decent hour.

3. Waking up before my kids wake up, and spending a few minutes with my coffee and my Jesus, makes the whole day go more smoothly.

4. Even when I am stressed to the max, I have no right to lose my temper.

5. If I am stressed to the max, it's probably a result of my own poor planning and procrastination.

6. My children don't have to be perfect.

7. I don't have to be perfect.

8. Our parenting style works best for our family, and things go a lot better when we do it our way.

9. It's okay to ask for help from my husband. He is at his best when his girls need him.

10. God is gracious, and His mercies are new every morning. And the mistakes I made yesterday do not have to be repeated today.

But perhaps the biggest lesson I have learned this year is one that came from my "little" brother, Nick. He heard and preached a sermon to his youth group that went something like this: Each decision we make, each action we take, it does not represent a single point in time; rather, it represents a step in the direction of our lives.

When I lose my patience, when I choose a movie over playtime, when I eat a doughnut instead of an apple... with each of these little decisions, I think, "It's just this once."

But this new revelation has changed the way I see those little decisions. Because "just this once" means: this is just one step closer to the life that I don't want and one step further away from the life I desire for me and my family.

So as my days left in Korea become fewer and fewer, I find myself becoming more and more grateful for what this year has meant to me and my family. There aren't many people who are given a Reset button when their wires get crossed.

There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor [Troubles] a door of hope. There she will sing as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt.
Hosea 2:15

11/14/2002: Where Normals Dare Not Tread

2009-11-03T23:16:00.001-08:00

This is continuing on with the archived journal theme...

I would like to begin by saying that I am not a rebel. I like rules. I like following the rules. I like structure. I don't generally challenge the powers that be when they lay down the law. No problems here.

Allow me to offer an example:

I always walk on the right side of the sidewalk. When I say "right" side, I literally mean "right" side (as in opposite of "left.") This side, as everyone knows, it also the "right" side (as in "correct" side) to walk on. Think about it. If you drive your car down the wrong side of the road, what happens? A head-on collision with an oncoming semi, correct? Yes. While walking on the left side of the sidewalk may not be life threatening, one can certainly avoid the embarrassing waltz-like shuffle with an oncoming pedestrian if he or she walks on the "right" side of the road... in every sense of the word "right."

I must admit, however, that on occasion I have found myself walking on the left side... but only in rare cases when attempting to avoid an uneducated pedestrian who appears to enjoy meandering along my side of the walkway.

So, however the case may be, right side or (occasionally) left side... I always follow the "rules" by walking in the "correct" way along the sidewalks.

However, today... ahhh today... what a glorious fall day... today I made a decision. This choice changed my outlook on all my problems... and possibly my entire life. It left me feeling guilty and free at the same time. My life gained a more colorful shade as this decision poured forth in my actions. I made the daring, challenging, slightly rebellious decision in the spur of the moment as destiny saw fit to challenge me to take fate into my own hands. Would you like to know what that decision was?

Are you ready for this? I WALKED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SIDEWALK. Yes, I did it, and I'm proud of it. I didn't walk on the "right" side or even the ever-so-mischievous left side. No, I walked right in the middle. I didn't care who saw it, and I don't care who knows it now. I walked in the middle. Granted, as I first began walking in the middle, I anxiously glanced around to see if anyone noticed my rebellious trod. I constantly checked in front and behind to make sure I wasn't blocking any well-meaning rule follower on his or her way to class... no doubt to arrive five minutes early with two #2 pencils sharpened and an extra eraser. But then, as I left class a second time, I grew a bit more bold. I decided to walk in the middle and only glance behind me once in a while (just to make sure campus security wasn't coming after me for my outward display of utmost rebellion). However, by the time I reached my dorm, I found my self plowing forward, full stride, unafraid, and feeling more freedom than I can ever remember.

My name is Brandy Dalton and I am not ashamed to say, "I WALKED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SIDEWALK."

Perhaps this deed of mine seems a bit trifle to you. Maybe you walk wherever you want, whenever you want, and however you want with no thought about it whatsoever. I feel sorry for you. You will never experience the sheer liberty I felt in the core of my soul today. You will never know the joy of stepping out of your comfort zone, shoving off convention, and living your life. But for those of you out there who always walk on the "right" side of the sidewalk, I ask you to consider the following thoughts... Is the right side always "right"? As in correct? Search your soul; search your purpose; search down deep to your true reasons for following the "rules." Now tell me: Do you follow them because it's all you've ever done? Or do you follow them because you know in your heart of hearts that the "right" side is the way for you? These are the questions that struck me today as I marched down my path to unconventiality.

Ultimately, I will probably continue to follow the rules. In the end, I'm sure you'll find me on the "right" side of the sidewalk every time our paths cross. But today... on this cool autumn day... for one time in my life... I felt the exhilaration of walking on a "different" path and knowing that, for that moment in time, I was truly free.

Santa? To be or not to be?

2009-11-01T13:35:00.000-08:00

I am not one of those people who gets disgusted when Christmas decorations come out in August. As a matter of fact, I kind of think about Christmas all year... and not in that "Lets-make-peace-and-pretend-that-we-love-each-other-because-it's-Christmastime-all-year" kind of way. I just love holidays where it's okay to go crazy creative and fun... and then add some super-fattening holiday desserts on top.

I feel the same way about my daughter's birthday parties. (I already have a theme and the basic food items planned for Chloe's birthday in September 2010.)

What?

So the time has come. Chloe is three this Christmas and in the throws of pretend play. You know what that means? Santa Claus. What's that all about?

I grew up on Santa Claus, as did my husband. But I have spent the last several Christmases debating whether or not we would raise our children with him.

I've heard all the arguments, I think... at least, all the arguments against Santa Claus. The people who "do" Santa Claus tend to do it for tradition's sake. (If anyone has a great argument on why Santa Claus is necessary to the well-being of my children, I would LOVE to hear it.)

Most of the arguments fall into one of two categories, and sometimes are combined:

1.) No, we don't want to lie to our children.

2.) No, we don't want to take the focus off of Jesus.

So, for years, I have been at odds with myself, dreading this very Christmas - the one where I would have to decide.

Tell Chloe the real story of Santa, and forfeit the childhood magic that I remember? Like Aunt Martha Dale rushing the children outside to see Rudolph in the sky and hear the jingle of Santa's sleigh. (Airplane, Martha Dale's holiday hair bow.) Like waking up on Christmas morning to find the Santa cookies gone. Like receiving a phone call from Santa a few days before Christmas. (My granddaddy has the BEST Santa voice.) Like lying in bed on Christmas Eve and fighting sleep so maybe I could get a peek at Santa.

Or tell Chloe that Santa is real? And risk the possibility that she will feel jaded, duped, and deceived in 6-8 years when the truth comes out. Or that she will think Santa is like Jesus, nice bedtime stories from her childhood. Or that she will never trust a human being because her parents lied to her for her entire life.

It's a tough decision, my friends.

But, here's where it's at. My hubby, he likes Santa. He's not worried that introducing Santa into our home will be the decline of civilization as we know it. His argument: "We were raised with Santa, and we turned out fine."

To which I reply, "Fine is a relative term that may have been used too liberally in that statement."

But I get his point.

And since I can't decide whether Santa is an amazing and necessary part of an American child's Christmas... or if he is the very foundation of the materialistic fast-food demands of this holiday... I have decided to leave this decision up to my calm, cool, collected (mentally and emotionally stable) husband.

So, yes friends, we're doing Santa.

And since, you know, I LOVE this holiday, I don't want to do anything half-hearted.

Enter, Elf on the Shelf.

The basic premise is that Santa sends an elf to our house to "observe" whether the girls are naughty or nice. Then at night, when they are asleep, the elf goes to the North Pole and tells Santa which list to put the children on. So each morning, when Chloe wakes up, the elf will be in a different location... and she must find her. Fun, right?

We're ordering one of these little babies next week, and I am SO EXCITED! We haven't decided on a name, but I am leaning towards "Candy Cane." Not very original, eh? Yeah... I'm still working on it.

If anyone out there in bloggerland has a great Elf name (for a girl elf) then I'm open to it.

So, there it is folks. I have gone from "Santa may or may not be evil" to "Lets invite an elf into our home" in 2.3 seconds flat.

Good thing my husband is so sane, seriously.

Anywho... I started this whole post to say this: WOOOOO HOOOOOO CHRISTMAAAAAAAAAAAAAS!!!!!!!!!!

Good times. Good times.

I have a plan to make a plan.

2009-10-27T17:21:00.001-07:00

I have so many things flying around in my head these days, it's difficult to sit down and write a cohesive, thoughtful post. So, instead, allow me to present (in list format, no less) Stream of Consciousness in E Flat.

1. This has been a really good, productive week. Nobody is sick. The weather is cool enough for a scarf but warm enough to keep the heavy coats in the closet a little longer. I have three suitcases packed for America. Life is pretty sweet right now.

2. Speaking of the sweet life. I am LOVING this song right now.

3. I plan to really focus on the whole Stay-At-Home-Mom thing this last month because, frankly folks, it may never happen again. Hmm... that would be a good post... "Things I've Learned About Being a SAHM." Yeah... I might save that topic for a post all by itself. Good stuff.

4. I think I need to post a video. That might make this blog a little more fun. What do you think? Sometimes "vlogs" can be a little annoying. Sometimes they can be great. Hmmm...

5. Chloe's latest fun words:
- When draining the bath water: "Be careful, mommy! Cinderella might go down the dream!"
- Looking at tire tracks in the parking lot: "Oooo.... Tiger tracks."
- When watching Daddy lead worship with his guitar: "Look! Look Mommy! Daddy's playing my con-tar!"
- Last night, while walking around the church, we pretended to sneak past the sleeping giant from Jack and the Beanstalk. The train woke him up, and we had to run "fasterly before he snatches us!"

6. Maple won't stay on the pallet anymore. She rolls everywhere and puts everything in her mouth. Hello, baby proofing fun, it's been a while.

7. Did you know it is impossible to baby proof for a three-year-old? A kitchen chair and/or a broomstick, and everything she wants is within reach. Sheesh. She's just so smart sometimes.

8. Did I mention how excited I am about coming home? And moving to Memphis? Allow me to mention it now. YIPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

9. This post is boring.

10. Yeah, I'm gonna do a video. I always say that and then never do it. I'm really gonna do it this time. Really. No, really.

The End.

Thuh-rilled.

2009-10-20T22:57:00.000-07:00

One of the things that excites me the most about Memphis is having an awesome church to go to.

This year in Korea has forced us to grow leaps and bounds in the spiritual sense. I feel like we are completely different today than we were when we first stepped off the plane eleven months ago. We have been forced to trust the Lord: for relationships, for finances, for direction, for favor.

There is a line in Francis Chan's book Crazy Love that says, "Lukewarm people do not live by faith; their lives are structured so they never have to.... They don't genuinely seek out what life God would have them live - they have life figured and mapped out.... The truth is, their lives wouldn't look much different if they suddenly stopped believing in God."

I am ashamed to say that this quote almost perfectly defines our life before Korea.

If we were short on finances, we worked more hours or got help through other methods. We rarely prayed over decisions or difficulties because we had friends to whom we could vent. Who needs to spend tons of time doing personal Bible studies when there's a perfectly good church with an educated pastor who will tell me everything I need to know?

But in Korea, spiritually speaking, we have had no provision from the outside. Although we attend church several times a week and listen to sermon after sermon, everything is in Korean. We don't have weekly prayer meetings or social Bible studies. We can't visit a friend to "ask for prayer" about our problems.

We have been forced to rely completely on God. Speaking for myself, I have read more books, spent more time in the Word, prayed more desperate prayers than ever before. Not because I'm a "good Christian" who is extremely disciplined, but because I have been absolutely starving for it.

While this year has made me more desperate for personal, intimate time with Jesus, I am now THRILLED at the thought of going to an ENGLISH church with "real" worship and good teaching! I am even more thrilled at the prospect of making new Christian friends - married couples, with children - that attend this church. Thrilled, I tell ya!

I hope and pray that we will continue to rely on God as much in the states as we have in Korea, but I'm also very very very very very excited about having some support in that area. Thrilled. That's just the best word for it.

So, yup. There's no real point to this post except to say, yeah, I'm pretty thrilled about the upcoming changes.

Seacrest, out!

11/12/2002: My Life as Umbrellas and Coffee Mugs

2009-10-20T19:38:00.000-07:00

I was walking to class today with my coffee mug in one hand and my umbrella in the other... and I realized what a weird metaphor those two objects pose. I mean, they literally define my college experience. Not only because it rains all the time here and I always seem to be hyped up on caffeine... but also because of a deeper, more emotional/spiritual truth.

In college, things have happened to me... and seem to continually happen to me... that seem to "wet" my life. Everything from having problems at home, to working through confusing times with Brandon, to pulling an all-nighter and then falling asleep during the test, to fighting with my roomie, to getting really sick, to simply being tired of the rain, literally. Yet, in each of these times, there seems to be an umbrella to keep me from becoming completely drenched. I can't explain what it is. I mean, it's always the Lord... but not overtly, obviously the Lord. For instance, when I have problems at home, Brandon will be so supportive and caring. When Brandon and I struggle, my roomie is so kind and understanding. When I get upset with her, the tests and quizzes seem to slack off. Do you see where I'm going? It's like when one thing happens to discourage me (the rain), God uses something or someone else (the umbrella) to keep me from being completely swept away by the storm. Wow! I have just never thought about all those little things as God's way to shelter me. How amazing the Lord is!

Okay... so I bet you're wondering about the coffee mug, eh? Here goes...

It's not enough for the Lord to use all these things to shelter me on the outside. Oh, no! He's far to good a God for that! He also sends things to warm me inside... an encouraging word, an unexpected hug... or even a smile from a stranger. I see God in all those things. Just like the coffee keeps me warm and comforted on the inside... and just like it helps me get through the day without completely collapsing... God sends things and people to be my "inner strength."

I have so many people tell me how "strong" they think I am! Ha! It's not me! Praise the Lord! It's my umbrellas and coffees that keep me going! What a revelation!

So... maybe the metaphor is a stretch... and maybe you can't see it as well as I can. But I know today, probably better than I have ever known before, that "God shall provide all my needs, according to His riches in glory".... physically, emotionally, spiritually. Praise the Lord for UMBRELLAS AND COFFEE!

11/02/2002: Van Gogh and My Heart

2009-10-19T02:58:00.000-07:00

Continuing with the past journal entries...

Van Gogh and My Heart
11/02/2002

"Please remember. Please remember. Our time together. I was yours and I was wild and free. Please remember. Please remember... me." -- Leann Rhimes

Do you ever wonder if anybody will remember you when you are gone? I don't mean dead... no... I mean simply gone... on a trip... moving away... anywhere... for however long... Do you think anybody will remember to miss you?

I don't know why this struck me. I know that people miss me when I am away... at least that is what they tell me. I don't know... maybe this doesn't make sense. I just want to know that somebody is waiting at home for my return.

I can't wait 'till next weekend! I'm going home to see my love... Brandon. He doesn't know that I am coming... that will make it all the better! I want to run out and give him a big hug and a long kiss. I want him to know that he was missed. It's a terrible feeling... the feeling that nobody really even notices that you are gone... I don't want him to ever feel that way.

I decided a few weeks ago that my life is like a Van Gogh. You see... most of his pieces are at night... dark... mysterious... lonely... cold. However, all of this darkness is contrasted often by bright oranges and yellows and exciting swirls and splashes of light! When a passer-by looks at the painting, he doesn't see the dark and despair. No, he sees the light... the excitement... the energy of the painter. That's my life. Often it is dark, scary, lonely, chilly.... but... then there is the light. Those bright splashes of color that draw the attention of the casual watcher. I live from one yellow swirl to the next. Often in the dark... but not for very long.

Brandon is one of those swirls. At the same time, he is often the darkness too. Love is funny that way I suppose. He makes me laugh so hard that I cry. And he makes me cry so hard that I laugh. And that's how I know that I can spend the rest of my life with him... because he's not just a part of my life... like just the dark, or just the light... but he's pieces from all of my life... part dark, part light. He's probably the only person that I feel knows me.

He still doesn't know all of me. I don't know if anybody can ever know all of me. That scares me a little bit. I mean, I've never been completely open or honest with anybody. I guess there will always be that fear of being left because of a discovery of my true self. I don't know if absolute trust is ever possible in this life. I guess that's only something I will know on my death bed.

Well... that's all my rambling for the night. I have nothing more to say. If I were a shoe... I would be a flip-flop.

10/22/2002: A Forgotten Friend

2009-10-17T04:53:00.000-07:00

I've been working my way through some old journal entries that go back as far as my freshman year in college. As difficult as it is for me to believe, that was actually seven years ago. At some point in life, I would like to unify and condense my journal/diary/blog entries into one neat little book for my kids and grandkids. In order to make this something actually worth the reading, I am re-reading and sometimes editing those entries, not for content, but for grammar, spelling, etc.

So, since I might not have too much creative energy over the coming weeks due to a certain move that is coming this way fast, I will post old journal entries from time to time a.) so I won't lose more readers than I already have, and b.) so I can continue on with my goal to get this stuff printed at some point in life.

So... here it is... my first journal entry as a freshmen at Lee University... (Oh, for those melodramatic days...)

A Forgotten Friend
Dated: 10/22/2002

I had the most odd occurrence today. I came out of class to find myself walking behind a guy that looked exactly like a former high school classmate. While it took less than a second for my brain to register the impossibility of his presence here, that split second was all I needed to feel a sudden sense of warmth and comfort. Now, don't get me wrong; it's not that I would want to see this guy on campus. I didn't even particularly like him in high school. No, the comfort was not in who he was, but rather in who I knew. The fact that, during that millisecond, I was walking behind a person that I had known longer than half of a semester brought unimaginable peace. I knew him. I had a history with him... good and bad. I had a connection with him... even if it was simply from saying "hi" during home room. I can't explain why this happened, and I can't explain why my heart sank during the second after I realized it could not be him. All I know is that the whole incident has brought me a sense of homesickness that I have never felt before. No... not homesicknes... that's the wrong word. It's more of a history sickness. I wish to go back 3 or so years ago when things seemed so complicated but were oh-so-simple, where everybody I talked to was a person from my past and future, where meeting a new face was an adventure - not a chore, where even my enemies were beloved characters in my novel of life. Still, here I sit. Alone, with complications that are real, with acquaintances I barely know, with faces I dare to forget, with enemies - not characters. How did I get here? Is this a natural progression to independence? I suppose so... I suppose... I suppose someday I will find comfort in a stranger, not in a forgotten friend. Maybe... some day... all this new will become a part of my history... and my future... and me. I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Survey Friday?

2009-10-15T21:04:00.000-07:00

Borrowed this from The Crouch Family blog.

Something great as of late: I have really been enjoying the past few weeks (before we got sick) here in Korea. Their fall is so lovely, with blue skies, warm sun, and cool breezes. I think knowing that our time here is limited has made me appreciate the beauty and wonder of this place. I love looking any direction and seeing mountains. I love the sound of a foreign language tossed about outside my window. I love the mixture of farmland and city thrown into the same area. I really have come to love this place. And so, as our time here draws to a close, I find myself striving to suck every last bit of beauty out of this experience.

Something hard as of late: Aside from the whole Swine Flu thing, the hardest part of our life right now is our finances. I don't usually discuss this topic here on the blog because, frankly, it's not fun to talk about. This year, we have essentially been a one-income household, and it has been a sacrifice, to say the least. Since Brandon and I started dating, I have made it very clear to him that I am willing to sacrifice most "comforts" in order to stay home with my children. After a year of doing just that, I no longer feel so adamant about it. First of all, I'm not a great stay at home mom. More on that later. Secondly, I'm not a good wife or mom when finances are really tight. I get stressed. I pray about it. I try not to worry. But I still get this little sore spot on my lip where I chew it every time I pay for groceries. So, yeah, that's the thing that has been especially hard as of late.

Something about your family: I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before, but my younger brother and his wife are expecting a baby! Their first! I'm so excited, I tell everyone I see (you know, at least everyone who speaks English). Preliminary indicators say that perhaps it's a boy... but they will know for sure soon! Yay!

Something about your friends: I have been party to some amazing friendships here in Korea, with one Samonim in particular. I'm really going to miss my friends here.

And the beat goes on...

2009-10-14T23:13:00.001-07:00

Not too much going on around these parts. Maple is still in quarantine until her symptoms are gone; so we're doing a lot of sitting around the house watching the paint peel.

Except it's wallpaper.

And it's not peeling.

I did spend a good portion of yesterday going through Chloe's toys and sorting into piles of takers, tossers, and giver away-ers. I did manage to get all her toys into her little Barbie suitcase. I'm still not sure what will happen with the books and stuffed animals, but I figure we'll stuff that suitcase when we get to it.

In addition to packing, we're busy filling out form after form to things in the states: Apartment applications, health insurance forms, Preschool apps, driver's license apps... and the beat goes on.

So, that's pretty much my life right now: Taking care of a sick baby, packing (slowly, but surely), and filling out forms.

At least, that's my we're-going-to-America life.

There is still that part of me that says: "Hey! You're still in Korea! Enjoy! Enjoy! Enjoy!"

And so I am trying. I'm trying not to focus all my energy on what is to come and budget a portion of my energy for what is happening right now. Only five short weeks until I will leave this beautiful country with its lovely people, and I am determined to make the most of every moment here.

So, that's it. Nothing too creative right now. Just to-do lists and mental notes. I know you can't wait for more...

Oink, Oink, Oink

2009-10-13T16:03:00.001-07:00

So, the last few days have been tiring, to say the least. My little Maple has had an on-again off-again cough for about a week now. Three nights ago, she awoke with a fever around midnight and was having difficulty breathing while lying down. I checked for all the warning signs. She wasn't blue or even bluish, but she did sound like she had just run a marathon. When I picked her up, the wheezing and grunting seemed to subside a bit. So for the next six hours, I sat up on the couch holding her upright so that she could breathe. Needless to say, we spent a good portion of the next day at the children's hospital where they ran a series of tests, the last of which was the routine H1N1 - swine flu - test. The doctor said he thought it was just a cold with the beginning stages of bronchiolitis (baby bronchitis), and so he loaded us down with four different medicines.

Now, let me stop right there and say: I do not like to over-medicate my children. One of my favorite things about our pediatrician back in the states was that I could call her, rattle off a list of symptoms, and find out in about 3 minutes whether or not Chloe needed antibiotics. For the two and a half years that we went to this doctor, Chloe took antibiotics once for an ear infection.

But y'all, when my 5-month-old baby can't breathe at night, I'd give her every drug in the book to make her better!

Anyways... he gave her four different medicines and sent us home to wait for the test results to come back.

Yesterday morning, Maple awoke with no fever, after 10 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Seemed to me she was already getting better.

But then at 11:30am, the call came in: she has Swine Flu.

So, off I went to collect the prescription and medicine for baby TamiFlu. Eight hours later, after much work and effort by Easter the Samonim, I gave my little one her first dose.

She still seems a bit lethargic this morning, and she'll only eat a couple ounces at a time. But she can breathe and there is no fever.

So. That's our story this morning. We're quarantined for a few days, but I'm ok with that.

At least I'll have some time to pack for the move....

Extra! Extra! Read all About It!

2009-10-10T21:31:00.001-07:00

Ok. So the thing is this: The thing is that we have been in decision-making mode for about six weeks now. We've been in the trenches of choices, and we have spent much time in prayer, godly counsel, and a sea of pros & cons lists. And the thing is, well, we couldn't talk about most of those decisions until after they were made. So the thing is that this here little bloggy just got abandoned for a bit because I couldn't think of anything else to write about besides our decisions but I wasn't allowed to write about decisions so I had to choose between filling out a million surveys to post here which I didn't think you would like or just not write anything at all.

How's THAT for a run-on sentence.

What I'm trying to say is this: The decisions are made, first steps are being taken, and this here little bloggy is up and running again.

As always, to the 15 readers that Google Reader tells me I still have, thank you for sticking with me through thick and thin... and absence.

So what are these decisions we've been batting back and forth? Well, in a word: our future. Oops. Two words.

We knew that the time would soon come when we would have to decide whether or not to stay in Korea another year. Honestly, in the last few weeks, we have seriously been considering signing another yearly contract. The English service just started this week. Classes are FABULOUS. We are finally starting to feel like we fit in. We're building friendships that, I'm sure, will last a lifetime. And while there is still much for us to learn, we are finally starting to grasp some of the basic cultural intricacies of South Korea.

On the other hand, if we stayed, we would not be able to afford to send Chloe to English school. It has become very apparent to us that throwing her in relationships with children who do not understand her and cannot talk to her has been, to say the least, a frustration for her. She needs very badly to interact with children her age who speak her language, and this is something we simply couldn't afford to do in Korea. Obviously, there were other considerations thrown in for good measure, including finances, education, and forgivable student loans, but this one was at the forefront of this mommy's heart.

So, the decision was finally made last week.

We are moving back to the States, and we will be taking up residence near Memphis, TN. Why Memphis? Well, because we really want to. And why do we want to? Well friends, there are a couple reasons.

Firstly,Brandon and I have both been offered amazing jobs there. We will work for the same company, in the same building. Our children will come to work with us and chillax in the daycare with other children very close to their age. At lunch and on breaks, I'll get to hang out with my chil'rens. And for this mommy who loves to work but also loves to be with her kids, well, I just couldn't imagine a better setup.

Secondly, well, Elvis.

Thirdly, it's a fun word to say. Memphis. Memphis. MEMPHISMEMPHISMEMPHIS.

It seems as if I'm forgetting something...

OH YES! Allow me to mention a few names to you: Christan, Joey, Cadence, Jordan.

Don't mean anything to you? Well, that's just 'cause you don't know them.

They happen to be some of the most amazing people on the PLANET. And, you guessed it, they live in Memphis!

Christan was my roommate freshmen year and has continued to be my friend and confidant through marriage, first home, first baby, second baby, move to Korea... all that jazz.

She and Joey were married one year before Brandon and I were. Their daughter Cadence was born four months before Chloe, and their son Jordan was born six months before Maple.

Yeah, I'm kind of a copy cat. Thinking about dying my hair red before going to Memphis...

Did I mention that Christan has BEAUTIFUL red hair?

ANYwho...

I guess I don't have to tell you how excited we are about the move.

There are certainly things we will miss about Korea. We were talking the other day, and we decided that, yes, Korea has been the best decision we have made thus far in our marriage (besides, you know, loving each other, loving God, birthing babies... all that jazz). Seriously though, being here has been like being in a spiritual and emotional pressure cooker. We were isolated and put under a lot of pressure, but dang if we haven't come out of this thing with new flavors and aromas and chock-full of spiritual nutrients!

I'm hungry.

Anyways, I'm sure there will be lots more to write about over the coming weeks. Five, to be exact. The girls and I are leaving in five weeks. On a plane. Without daddy. On a plane. Without daddy. Thought that last part might need to be repeated. Perhaps I'll save that story for another post. Don't worry, he's coming... just a little later.

So... that's our news... and my reason for not posting updates.

Any questions?

A little Chloe quiz....

2009-09-20T00:58:00.000-07:00

The following phrases are the top seven "Chloe-isms" (among many) that I will never correct. They are just too darn cute. Please read the following and try to guess what she is attempting to say. Answers are at the bottom. No cheating!

7. "Hello, little fellup."

6. "Cin.der.ella-ella-ella-ella-ella. Really-Really-Really. Cin.der.ella-ella-ella-ella. If you wanna be my rover...If you wanna be my rover... if you wannna be my rover. I'm on the phone!"

5. "Awww, cute little puffy."

4. "More lemolade, please!"

3. "Don't forget my pandy!"

2. "Daddy, do you know where my canda stickers are?"

1. This one comes with a story (my new favorite). Today on the playground, Chloe and a little boy entered into a "scuffle" over a certain yellow slide. Chloe struck the first blow, and I promptly removed her from the situation, applied a little discipline, and insisted that she say, "I'm sorry" to the offended party. At first, she attempted a measly, "imseree..." from across the playground, but I insisted that she say it to his face and very loudly. To my shy little one, this was the worst punishment she could endure until I offered that we could leave the playground. After deliberations that make the health care reform look like the "paper or plastic?" dilemma at the grocery store, she finally decided that, nay, leaving the playground would be far worse punishment. So she mustered up the courage to say "I'm sorry." She marched over to the little boy, huffed and puffed a minute, whispered to herself (I kid you not) "one, two three..." then yelled at the top of her little lungs.... "THANK YOOUUUUUUUUUUU!"

aaaaand the answers...

7. This is said almost daily to her little sister when she wakes up from a nap. Chloe gently caresses Maple's cheek, softens her eyes and intends to say, "Hello, little fellow."

6. In order for this one to make sense, you must watch this clip:

5. No, my daughter does not see a great green dragon with pink wings. "Puffy" is, in fact, "puppy."

4. Lemonade. Her new favorite drink.

3. After she goes potty, she subtly reminds us, "Don't forget my candy!"

2. Panda. As in Panda bear. Those "p's" and "c's" are confusing sometimes.

1. In this case, I think "Thank you" should be interpreted as, "I'm terribly terribly terribly sorry that I even thought about hitting you, and had I known that my actions would have led to this kind of humiliation, I would have let you have the darn slide. And by the way, after this display of stage fright, I am fairly certain that my dream of being a Broadway star has been dashed to pieces. I blame you, thankyouverymuch."

Poor little bloggy...

2009-09-07T19:25:00.001-07:00

...I have not forgotten thee.

Saturday Survey

2009-08-23T06:37:00.000-07:00

A meme from Amy Beth

Three names I go by:

1. Mommy

2. Honey

3. Tudda

Three jobs I’ve had in my life:

1. Cookie baker

2. Pretzel maker

3. Insurance Agent

Three places I’ve lived:

1. Georgia

2. Tennessee

3. South Korea

Three favorite drinks:

1. Coffee

2. Coffee

3. Coffee

Three television shows I watch:

1. Prison Break

2. LOST

3. ... that's it, since we don't have TV.

Three of my favorite foods:

1. Chocolate Cake

2. Macaroni and Cheese

3. Watermelon

Three of my favorite restaurants:

1. Marti's at Midday (in Athens)

2. Panera (in Cleveland)

3. Mr.Pizza (in Korea)

Three things I couldn’t live without:

1. Jesus

2. Jesus

3. Jesus

Three things I can’t stand:

1. Wet, cold feet

2. Anything cream-filled

3. The THX sound at the beginning of movies in the theater

Three things I’m decent at:

1. Writing

2. Cooking (when I have an oven)

3. Singing

Three things I’m looking forward to this weekend:

1. Going to Yung-Deong Church

2. A yummy meal in Seoul

3. Maybe seeing Ansley???

Three things I’m addicted to:

1. Reading blogs

2. Coffee

3. Planning

Remember that scene in E.T. when all the men in white suits came running through the big plastic tubes to take E.T. away? Yeah, that was awesome.

2009-08-21T19:32:00.000-07:00

One week and one day ago, we arrived home from English camp. Seriously, y'all, those two weeks of camp were, like, the best weeks EVER! Eighteen (18!) American friends of ours flew all the way from Georgia to be counselors, singers, actors, dancers, targets, and candy givers. I basically did not see Chloe Jane for those two weeks, except at meal time and bed time, because she was totally into hanging out with the American kiddos (and the Korean ones who spoke English). All in all, it was a great two weeks that ended in... well, the worst sickness I've ever had. Seriously. (Anyone else noticed that's the third time I've used that word so far? Seriously.)

Yup, good ol' tonsillitis took hold. A bad case. How do I know it was bad? Well, for starters, I couldn't swallow my own spit. And also, when the doc looked in my mouth, he gasped. Yes, friends, a medical professional who sees sick people all the time actually gasped when he saw my tonsils. I'm pretty sure I should get an award for something like that.

ANYwho. By this past Wednesday (a full week, two shots, and two rounds of antibiotics after this thing started) I was able to take my first bite of solid food. Today, I'm still a little sore in the tonsil area, but I finally have some energy... just in time for Chloe to get a nice little cold.

Funny story... took Chloe to the doctor. He brushed it off as a cold and gave her some fever medicine (read: Tylenol). As we were walking out, my friend mentioned to him that we had been hanging out with Americans for the past couple weeks. That doctor looked at us like we had aliens popping out of our armpits, and then sent us to the Korean version of the CDC because everyone from the United States must have swine flu and therefore a two-year-old's head cold will quite potentially wipe out the entire Korean population. Everyone was dressed in white, snapping gloves, breathing through uber-fancy face masks, sticking Q-tips down little kids throats. Sheesh. Ultimately it was decided that, yes, she probably has a cold. But until the H1N1 virus tests come back, we are quarantined (QUARANTINED!) for the next 2-3 days. Lands sakes alive, our life feels so dramatic sometimes.

So, all that to say, I have quite the to-do list up in my noggin'. So, even though "blogging" falls somewhere alongside "breathing" in my list of priorities, I may have to set it aside for a few more days until that list is a little smaller.

A note to certain family members who seem overly-concerned about the status of our picture taking: We DO have tons of pictures and a few videos from camp. I AM planning to post them as soon as possible. But as having clean underwear takes precedence over the two-hour process of sorting and posting pictures, it may be a few more days. So sorry, dearies. So sorry.

Ok. I guess that's it. Time to start unpacking...

Saturday Survey

2009-08-01T07:49:00.000-07:00

Because no one procrastinates like I do...

As always, participating in Amy Beth's meme.

1. What time did you get up this morning? 7am, can you believe it?? I felt like I was on vacation.

2. How do you like your steak? Medium. But I'll take a veggie burger over a steak any day.

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? Star Trek - hubby's choice and one of the few showing in English.

4. What is your favorite TV show? Don't watch TV. Bummer dude.

5. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be? Memphis, TN

6. What did you have for breakfast? Fried eggs and toast.

7. What’s your favorite cuisine? Does chocolate count?

8. What foods do you dislike? Korean. :) Nah... I don't reckon there's any food I won't eat.

9. Where is your favorite place to eat? Starbucks. Have you had their oatmeal with fruit and granola... or brown sugar and cinnamon? I mean, pair that with a Pumpkin Spice Latte, and there you have my favorite meal ever.

10. What is your favorite salad dressing? Balsamic Vinaigrette in the winter, Homemade Strawberry Vinaigrette in the summer. I'm a bit of a dressing snob.

11. What kind of vehicle do you drive? I don't drive these days. It's probably the thing I miss most over here.

12. What are your favorite clothes? My white peasant skirt, red v-neck t-shirt, and white flats. Comfortable, feminine, and oh-so-Korean. :)

13. Where would you visit if you had the chance? Israel.

14. Is the cup half empty or half full? I never understood that question. Can't it just be half a glass of liquid? Why can't we all just get along?

15. Where would you want to retire? In a Winnebago, on the road.

16. What is your favorite time of the day? Nap time.

17. Where were you born? Northeast Georgia

18. What is your favorite sport to watch? Boxing. Seriously.

19. Are you a bird watcher? I have a hate/hate relationship with all manner of bird.

20. Are you a morning person or a night person? Used to be a night person. These days, I'm neither.

21. What did you want to be when you were little? The President - the idea of bossing people around has always thrilled me.

22. What’s your best childhood memory? Playing on the trampoline with Nick, Rodney, and Cassidy

23. Do you always wear your seat belt? Depends on how long the taxi ride is, but yes, I usually do.

24. Do you have any pet peeves? My number one, absolute, I-really-hate-it pet peeve is when I can't get in touch with the person who has my child.

25. Favorite type of pizza? Pizza Hut, thin crust, beef'n'bacon

26. Favorite flower? Buttercup (Dandelion, but isn't Buttercup a much cuter name?)

27. Favorite ice cream? Cookies'n'Cream.

28. Have you done anything spontaneous lately? Nope. I should plan to do that soon. Wait.

29. Do you like your job? Best job I've ever had. *wink*

30. Do you like broccoli? I LOVE raw broccoli with Ranch Dressing, but I'm allergic to most raw veggies. I know, right? I tolerate cooked broccoli.

Three days...

2009-07-31T16:24:00.000-07:00

Only three days, y'all. Three days until 18 lovely Americans land in my country and come to my city. Three days until my girls and I will board their bus and head to two weeks of kids camp. Three days until I can spend every waking moment speaking slurred, southern, Georgia-style English, knowing that I will be understood every time. Three days until Chloe has English-speaking children to play with. Three days until I hug my very bestest friend in the whole wide world whom I haven't seen in over a year. Three days, y'all. THREE DAYS!

But that also means...

Three days to pack up four people. Three days to prepare my home for the visitors who will be staying here when the camp is finished. Three days to wash every article of dirty clothing in my house... plus sheets and comforters... without a dryer. It will take a miracle with sunshine on top. Three days, y'all. THREE DAYS!

So... things may be a bit sparse around this here little bloggy over the next three days. Lots to look forward to, but lots to do beforehand.

Happy Weekend, y'all!

Pray for Trey

2009-07-27T21:54:00.001-07:00

I'd like to introduce you to a beautiful family in Tennessee:
the Winderweedle's.

I went to school with Bud Winderweedle from the sixth grade until graduation and then for a couple years in college. My fondest memory of Bud is from our first day as freshmen at Lee University. My parents had driven me up to campus, helped me settle in my dorm, and then sat with me through freshmen orientation. They were then planning to take me to lunch at Cracker Barrel before leaving me all by my lonesome at this "huge" school for six weeks. I remember forcing down the lump in my throat as I finally began to grasp the fact that I was no longer a mediocre fish in the 33-student pond from which I had graduated. I was now the algae the fish ate in the much larger lake, or ocean, or whatever. Coming out of orientation, as the lump in my throat threatened to push tears over the brim, we rounded a corner and ran smack dab into Bud and his family. I was so relieved to see somebody I knew, even if he did look different than I remembered. At our Christian high school, the male students had to wear collared shirts and keep a "good Christian" appearance (meaning, short hair). When we ran into Bud, his hair was flapping over his ears (gasp!), his shirt was un-tucked, and he was in sandals. When my parents asked him about his college plans, his response was, "I wanna be a rock star." No joke. I walked away from that brief conversation with a small sense of relief in knowing that I was not alone on that big campus. As it turns out, he wasn't too far off with the whole rock star thing. He became a big worship leader on campus at Lee University where he met his beautiful wife Melody.

I am sad to admit that I haven't had many opportunities to get to know Melody, us living in separate states and all. What I can say is that she was one of the most beautiful brides I have ever seen. (I can't find pictures to prove it to you; so you'll just have to take my word for it.) Their wedding was in a lovely historic farmhouse in North Georgia, and - get this - their reception? In a barn! I know, right? I was so very beautiful - like something from Martha Stewart Weddings - and I felt so blessed to be there to witness the beginning their life together.

So, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes TREY in the baby carriage.

Isn't he just the cutest little bundle o' all-boy you've ever seen?! Trey was born last fall, a strapping little boy who won the hearts of parents and grandparents alike. His full name is "Howell Edward III," which means "Remarkable Protector of the Inheritance," an amazingly prophetic name, considering all this little trooper and his family have endured since his birth.

You see, Trey was born with two holes in his heart. As if that weren't enough, a week after he was born, a virus attacked his little heart and sent him and his family on this long prayerful journey which has landed them at Vanderbilt hospital today.

This Wednesday, little Trey will have open heart surgery.

If all goes well, Trey will gain weight and grow into the normal tree-climbing, worm-catching, summer-smelling, girl-hating, mommy-loving little boy he's designed to be.

So if you get a minute or ten, please stop and pray for this beautiful family. They deserve the best, and our Lord is big enough to do it.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
Romans 8:28

For more information about Trey and his family, go to: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/treywinderweedle

* Trey just got finished with his very successful surgery. He is expected to make a full recovery! Praise the Lord!

Some points worth mentioning....

2009-07-25T15:32:00.000-07:00

a.) Expect new videos up at A Quiver Full within the next few hours. (They're taking a while to load.)

2.) In the subway yesterday, a sweet elderly lady sat next to me and made Maple smile. She smelled like my grandmother. I wanted to snuggle with her. I settled for sniffing her.

iii.) Today is the first Sunday we have been to Korean church in three weeks. I'm a wee bit ready to get back to it.

in summary.) Chloe's requested breakfast this morning: jelly on a spoon.

That is all.

Pointless Post about Shopping....

2009-07-25T02:55:00.000-07:00

Maple and I spent the afternoon out and about all by our lonesome today. While Chloe and Daddy headed off to go swimming with the children's church, the little one and I headed to HomePlus - the mother of all home good stores here in Korea. Several American friends of ours will be flying into Seoul in about 10 days for an English summer camp (more on that later), and I was in desperate need of some household pick-me-ups. A new shower curtain since $10 is totally worth saving me the effort of cleaning mine. A new tea kettle since my el-cheapo one has been used several times a day, everyday, since February. A pint of ice cream since... well... since mommies deserve a little treat every now and then too.

I am beginning to find that with each trip I take out and about I am met with several contrasting emotions.

For instance, on our trip this afternoon, I was overwhelmed with how comfortable I have become in this town. HomePlus is on the other side of the city from us. So, I walked 2 miles to the bank to get some cash then flagged down a taxi to take me the rest of the way to the store. When we were finished shopping, I walked 5 blocks to the station, took the subway to our local station, grabbed a taxi there and rode home. All with relative ease. As I sat waiting for the subway train, I remembered our first outing without a Korean guide back in January. We went to the local grocery store and home again in a taxi. I was so proud of us for making it back in one piece! So, it was exciting today to see how far I have come in being able to negotiate my way around this foreign countryside (even without Brandon there to guide me!).

But then there are other emotions that come with outings like this. I rarely go anywhere without feeling the curious eyes of strangers watching my every move. In the beginning, I tried to be polite. Smile. Nod. "Anyonghaseo." But I found myself spending more time bowing than actually shopping. So I just started to ignore them. This seems to prove fairly effective most of the time. But occasionally, there are those people who make themselves very difficult to ignore. They gasp. They point. They snicker. They stare. On days when I am feeling particularly witty, to those people I say, "No autographs, please." or "Take a picture; it will last longer." or "Wow! look at that Korean!" But on days like today, when I just want some "me time" to shop in peace, it's all I can do not to cry... or cuss... at the very rude, very nosy, very obnoxious people who insist on invading my bubble and sticking their fingers in my baby's face. Grrr.

I don't have a point to this post except to say that, in a foreign country, even things that should be simple - like getting a new shower curtain - are fraught with emotion.

Tomorrow is Sunday. I'm glad. I like Sundays.

Busy, Busy week

2009-07-24T15:09:00.001-07:00

Sorry for the lack of updates, dear readers. This has been quite the busy week, you see.

Saturday morning, Chloe woke up in an uber-grumpy mood which I attributed to... well... the fact that she's two. But by noon, it was clear that there were darker forces at work. She refused to eat her peanut butter and jelly sandwich, wanted nothing to do with talking to Grandma and Grandpa on video chat, and asked if she could go to bed. I knew then that she was seriously ill. I was right. Her temperature spiked to 103. So off we went for yet another doctor's visit. (FYI: 2pm on a Saturday, no appointment, in and out in 20 minutes, spent $5 including antibiotics and fever medicine.) She had inflamed tonsils.

So, the following two or three days were spent nursing an already-moody toddler whose sickness seemed to compound her moodiness.

Seriously though, I am having a love/hate relationship with the toddler phase. One minute, she says and does the cutest things. Like when she looks at my coffee and says, "Look out, mommy! It has steamers!" or when I'm trying to be funny and she just says, "Are you kidding me?" or when I turn her light on in the morning and she says, "It's too bright! I can't see my eyes!" or when she chastises her daddy for saying the blessing along with her... and then starts over from the beginning... three times. It's all so adorable!

But then there are those moments when she lies in the floor and kicks her feet and wails like a waaaambulance, those moments when I look at her and think, "I thought only kids in the movies acted like this... or the kids on Super Nanny."

But I digress... so we spent Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday completely cooped up in the house. Wednesday, we went to church... twice. We were desperate for playtime, y'all, and the mommy/baby room suited just perfectly.

Thursday, my friend Easter the Samonim and I took Maple to her two-month checkup. (She weighs 13lbs - wowza! - and appears to be in good health.) She received two shots and, I kid you not, did. not. cry. With the first shot, I honestly thought the nurse missed Maple's leg because she didn't react at all. With the second shot, I wished I had a camera because she stuck her bottom lip out so far I thought it would detach itself from her face. Then I immediately reminded myself that only an awful mother laughs and wishes for a camera when her baby is getting a shot.

On our way home from the doctor, I began thinking about all the ways that Easter the Samonim has helped me. She really reached out to me right from the beginning: showing me around town, teaching me some basic Korean, offering to watch Chloe for me. And as I was thinking these things, I asked, "Easter, when is your birthday?"

Her response: "Tomorrow! How did you know?"

Well, I didn't.

She went on to explain that, since all her close friends are in Seoul and her husband is very busy, she didn't have any special plans for her birthday and could she please come visit me at my house. A little embarrassed that I hadn't already offered that, I said of course she could come and then settled in my mind to get her a cake in the morning. It's the least I can do, I thought. But, as the day wore on, that thought continued to haunt me. Because, it really was that: the least I could do. So, by dinner time, I made up my mind to throw her a party. I went to the Samonim who speaks the most English and invited her, then asked her to call and invite all the other Samonims.

After arriving home from my little invitational jaunt upstairs, I suddenly realized what I had done: I invited all the Samonims to. my. house.

Yikes! So, the next several hours were spent in a blind panic: steaming floors, dusting shelves, scrubbing tiles. I mean, in all honestly, my house wasn't that bad. An hour of straightening up could have sufficed, but hello! all. the. Samonims... at. my. house.

So. Once the house was all clean, I headed out to the store to buy a cake and some party food. I arrived at the store, pulled out my debit card and realized (yikes, again!) I brought the wrong card! Ahh, good thing I have cash! One... two... uh oh... roughly $24 in my wallet. Minus $4 or so for the taxi ride home. Luckily, I was able to get a cake for $15 and a basket of peaches for $4. And since I had some kiwi and coffee at home, I ended up with a nice sized fruit platter (a must-serve at any Korean gathering), cake, and coffee. It certainly wasn't a feast, but it was enough to not feel embarrassed about.

I have been working on my Rosetta Stone software (a very generous gift from my friend Christan), and so I was able to understand a little bit of the conversation. I couldn't contribute much, but at least I knew when to laugh and/or nod appropriately. That's much better than the goofy deer-in-the-headlights look I usually sport at such gatherings.

All in all, it was a lot of fun. Seriously! Easter the Samonim seemed happy when she left, and I took yet another step in building relationships here in my building.

So, all that to say, it has been a busy week. Hence, the lack of updates on this here little bloggy. But now things should return to normal.

Brandon and Chloe are going swimming today, leaving me home alone with just Maple. I believe a trip to McD's and HomePlus may be in store. Freeeeeeedommmmmm!

Happy Saturday, all.

My first outing with the girls (also known as the post with all the run-on sentences)

2009-07-16T07:51:00.001-07:00

Today was a good day.

It had the potential to be scary awful because today was the day that I decided to take both girls off the premises... by myself.

Chloe Jane has officially passed the "potty training" stage and moved into the "she-knows-what-she's-doing-but-still-may-have-an-accident" phase. So today, in addition to being the day that we would all go out for the first time sans daddy, we also ventured out into the world without a diaper. Now, she has been to the playground and to church without a diaper, but, you know, that's like a 30 second walk from my home. Today, we actually took a taxi... to a mall. Can I confess I was just a LEEEETLE bit nervous that she would be too distracted to remember her diaper-free attire and that I would be stuck, alone, with two little girls, inthemall, inaforeigncountry, withmyhusbandmilesawayonsomefarmwithoutcellphoneservice...?

LEEEETLE bit nervous.

But my fears were laid to rest when, within the first 30 minutes, we made no less than three fruitless trips to the bathroom because she thought she "might" need to go. She's a cautious one, that one.

(Note to self: buy more hand sanitizer.)

All in all, it proved to be a wonderful outing for us girls. I purchased some much-needed do-dad items for my home from the oh-so-wonderful dollar store that should be called a magic store because of how cheap all the fabulous stuff is including but not limited to dishes, rugs, and cutsie aprons.

Where was I?

Oh yes. We went to the dollar store then spent a ridiculous amount of time in the kids section of the book store. Oh! One thing about book stores here: people treat them like libraries. It's so weird for me to walk into the store and see bookoos of Korean folk sitting on benches, chairs, and the floor reading their novels and magazines. Then, when they are finished reading, they just put the book back where they found it. As a result, some of the books have crinkled covers and dog-eared pages. Crazy, right?

So what did I do while Chloe Jane was playing/reading/terrorizing the children's book section? I plopped myself right down with a copy of Confessions of a Shopaholic, which is one of those books I would never actually spend money on because I'd be too afraid of what the salesclerk might think of me but which I would cower in the corner of the kids section and read while feigning interest in whatever book my child is thumbing through.

And since I'm a firm believer in the "when in Rome" principle, I put the book back... and doggy-eared the page I was on... because we might need to make a trip back to the bookstore tomorrow, you know, so Chloe can have another outing.

So after the oh-so-fabulous dollar store, and the bookstore/library, we headed to Mickie D's for some home cooking. And when I say home, I mean greasy American restaurant. And when I say cooking, I mean fried frozen patty covered with processed cheese and smothered in onions.

Only the classiest joints for my little girl.

After spending three point two minutes trying to open a toy that broke in one point six minutes, we scarfed down our french fries. At least, I scarfed. Chloe nibbled. On that note, can I just say that, while I have spent most of my adult life trying to convince myself that a french fry is, in fact, potato and therefore should qualify as a vegetable and therefore I should be able to eat as many as I want, I find it ironic that I spent most of our meal telling my two-year-old that they were not vegetables in an attempt to convince her to eat them. Surreouslay.

So... oh-so-fab dollar store, library/bookstore, McD's.

Oh! So then. Then! We're heading out of Mickie D's, broken toy in hand, when Chloe begins her first and only breakdown of the night.

After offering several guesses as to what had offended her, I finally informed her that I simply could not understand her when she, you know, acted like a heathen, and that she had to use her big-girl words if she wanted me to help her.

Then she said...

Wait for it...

"LEAVE MAPLE HEEEEERE!"

You want me to leave your sister at McDonald's?

"YYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!"

Um, no?

We have to take her home so she can see daddy tomorrow, just like Chloe.

Tears stopped. Hands clapped. Cheers rang out. Crisis averted.

And you thought I was kidding when I said she was bipolar...

So, that's pretty much it.

Dollar store, book store, McD's, home, Peter Pan, in the bed, sleepy head.

It was a good day.

'bout time.

The least of these....

2009-07-14T08:12:00.001-07:00

I want to shout about this from the rooftops. But my blog is as close as I can get.

Let's up the cuteness factor in here....

2009-07-14T01:52:00.000-07:00

Chloe Jane has hit a definitively bipolar stage right now. One minute, she says and does the cutest things! I just want to eat her up! The next minute, well, lets just say she's a little too much like her mother in that minute.

But since her cuteness is what I would like to remember about this stage, here are some of my favorite cute moments. Cute.

1. We hung a pink mosquito net above her bed (which was more necessary than I care to think about. Dang monster mosquitoes.) Her response when she saw it: "Oh mommy! It's a mountain! I wish I could wear it!" Well, sure. What princess doesn't want to wear a mountain of pink tulle?

2. She has a stuffy nose most days, effectively transforming my name from mommy to "bobby." This is especially dear to my heart because my younger brother had the same nasal issues at this age; so my mom's permanent name (and the name we still call her to this day) became "Bob" or "Bobby." I can only hope to be a "Bobby" like her...

3. It has been months since she first said "I love you" as an echo to when her daddy or I said it. But in recent weeks, she has been saying it of her own initiative. I cherish those moments in my mommy's heart. Yesterday, she crawled up in my lap, held my face in both of her sweet, sticky hands and sighed, "Bobby, I lub you berry buch."

4. When I am distracted and don't answer her the first time, she flashes her dark chocolate eyes at me and says, "Bobby, aren't you listening to beee?"

5. Right now, her favorite toys are a medicine cup (the kind that come on top of the children's tylenol bottles) and a blue rubber bouncy ball that fits inside it. I'm not sure why she's so attached to these two items, and I can't tell you how many times a day I am sent in search of the blue ball that has, once again, escaped from the cup and rolled under a piece of furniture.

6. According to Chloe, the best part of "getting better" is that she can play with Maple again. I will say, "Are you feeling better?" Her response: "Yes! Now I can touch Maple!"

7. When Maple wakes up to eat, Chloe always strokes her face and said, "Hi baby Maple! How was your nap?"

8. Her favorite books are the Curious George books that Grandma and Grandpa sent her. She especially loves the one about the toy store and the hula-hoops. She calls it "the one with the hoo-hoos."

9. She has a little blow-up pool where she "swims" on really hot days. She calls it a "sphimming pub."

10. Her daddy is her favorite person in the world right now. He woke her up this morning and brought her to our bed to tell her that he was leaving for a few days (to go on another mission trip... I'll tell you about that later) and that he would be sleeping at a farm, but he would come back in a few days. I love the picture of him sitting there, eating is breakfast apple, and her sitting across from him, with her hand on his knee, looking very concerned. After he finished telling her everything, she was quiet and contemplative for a moment, and then finally said: "Is that your apple?" After a good chuckle, daddy gave her his apple and headed out the door. I laid in bed for a little while just watching her eat her apple and listening to her smack and talk about her daddy. "Daddy is going to a farm. (smack, smack, smack) He's gonna see pigs and horses. (crunch, smack, smack) But he cannot read bee a book when I go night-night. (smack, slurp) I don't want to go night-night! But bobby can read to bee. Then daddy will come home!! Yay!!! (smack, smack)" It was such a sweet moment.

So there it is: the cuteness of Chloe Jane. May I remember these moments as the trials of potty-training continue...

Are you ready for another rant? I know I am.

2009-07-11T20:19:00.000-07:00

You may or may not know that I was a Political Science / International Affairs major in college. Though I don’t write much about it here, I have a loving, long-standing relationship with my soap box. And I tell you what, my soap box is getting worn out these days. I'm in the market for another one, if you know of a slightly used one for a good price.

Today's rant is about this bee that's been buzzing in my political bonnet since the beginning of last year. I know I'm a little late jumping on the Political Blogging Bandwagon, but I have intentionally withheld my opinions on these matters until WAY after the election because, quite frankly, this isn't that kind of political rant. I'm not promoting or rebuffing any political party, and I don't want it to be read that way.

No donkeys or elephants here, folks. I take issue with a horse of a different color. My problem is with a certain mindset that seems to permeate our church (particularly in the South, I think) And that mindset is this:

Good Christians vote Republican.

Now wait! WAIT! Don't leave me just yet. Here me out, and then feel free to leave and lambaste me to your friends and family should the desire remain.

It's not that I think good Christians vote Democrat, and it may be that after hearing all that I have to say, absolutely nothing about your core belief system will change.

But there is a serious problem with this mindset:

It hurts people. Often, when individuals make that statement - either through direct or implied methods - they are essentially saying, "If you voted for any other party or - heaven forbid - didn't vote at all, you did not do your Christian duty and, in some cases, sinned." I guess I don't have to say that this mindset might alienate some of our brothers and sisters in Christ. And while we are called to hold our spiritual siblings accountable, it should always be with the end goal of bringing them closer to the Lord and leading them away from sin.

If you can show me where voting non-republican is a sin, I'll eat my hats... all 12 of them.

Of course, there are issues where the Republican Party lines up with God’s Word, but that does not mean that those who don't vote the conservative way must not believe in the Bible. It may just mean that they see things a bit differently.

Let’s take, for example, the issue of abortion.

Obviously, this is an important issue to those Die-Hard-All-Christians-Are-Republican folks (henceforth referred to as DHACARs) because, you know, Republicans are pro-life. So, suppose there is this non-DHACAR (henceforth referred to as ND) who is unashamedly an anti-abortion, pro-life, "a person's a person, no matter how small" kind of individual. Suppose that the DHACAR and the ND agreed 100% on this point.

But suppose this Spirit-filled, God-loving, Bible-reading, Church-going, Tithe-giving, ND Christian saw things differently than the DHACAR. Suppose she says: in the last 28 years, Republicans have held the Presidential power for 20 of them, yet abortion still remains legal. So despite the talk they're talking, the Republican Party isn't doing the walking when it comes to abortion (at least, in this particular ND's opinion). So, for this ND, the issue of abortion is a draw: Neither party will do anything extreme regarding abortion and risk alienating their on-the-fence voters. This may be an over-simplification, but I'm writing a blog here, not a book.

Your welcome.

So, if abortion is a draw at present, suppose this ND considers other Biblical directives - like stewardship of the earth and caring for the poor, the orphan, the widow, and the alien. Suppose this particular ND believes just as strongly as the DHACAR that we must follow Biblical directives, but suppose this ND also believes that the Republican Party will not do this as well as another party.

Does that make the ND less Christian than the DHACAR? Don't they both believe in the God-breathed infallibility of Scriptural directives? Of course! Their opinions only differ regarding who will best fulfill those directives within their government.

If this is true, then do you see why I take issue with the DHACAR mindset? It does not edify the church. It does not bring people closer to Christ. It does not promote unity within the body. It alienates. And confuses. And hurts.

Once again, I’m not promoting or rebuffing any particular political party. This isn’t about party politics. This is about love. About us, as Christians, loving on and encouraging our brothers and sisters. About recognizing that there is a difference between political opinions and Biblical directives.

So talk about your thoughts on taxes and welfare all you want. Rant. Rave. Huff. And Puff.

But do it in love. And remember, just because you sit next to someone in church, don't assume they believe exactly as you do about the Israeli/Palestinian crisis. Or illegal aliens. Or food stamps.

‘Cause you know what happens when you assume…

*image courtesy of joespooner.com

Well, this is new....

2009-07-10T21:30:00.000-07:00

I have never been a person to stay in the same place for long. I love to travel, to meet people, to experience new things.

In high school, I spent two summers in a row traveling around the southeast with a Christian drama company that I met for the first time two weeks before I left with them.

For my college choice, I wanted anything outside of Georgia, but close enough to where I could see Brandon once month or so. I ended up in Cleveland, Tennessee.

And, you know, there's the whole move-my-family-to-the-other-side-of-the-world thing that happened this year.

And through all my travels, though there were certain things and people that I missed while I was gone, I have never, not one time, never, ever felt truly homesick...

...until now.

I'm ready to go home, y'all.

Nothing in particular has happened. And I still feel a complete peace that where we are right now is where we are supposed to be.

But that doesn't change the fact that I miss being home in the U.S.

I miss English conversations in person.
I miss Publix.
More than that, I miss DRIVING to Publix.
Even more than that, I miss DRIVING through the Jittery Joe's drive-through on my way to Publix.
I miss going to a church where I can lift my hands and worship in freedom.
I miss clothes shopping. Seriously, all my clothes are looking a bit... frumpy.
I miss TLC and Food Network.
I miss the privacy of living in my own home.
I miss getting in the car and seeing family whenever I like.
I miss yard sales.
More than that, I miss going to yard sales with my mom.
I miss visiting with my grandparents.
I miss hamburgers.

This is a weird phenomenon for me. I have never felt this way before, and it has been an interesting journey this week as I have walked my way through all these emotions.

What is even more interesting to me is that Brandon has been feeling the exact same way (although, I'm sure he misses different things than I do). Still, we're both missing home.

The last couple days have been particularly difficult, perhaps because I was expecting a little much-needed reprieve from our routine, only to have it swiped from within my grasp at the last minute.

Like yesterday. I had planned a child-free lunch (to Outback Steakhouse!) with my good friend Eun-Young. I have not had an adults-only outing in over 10 weeks (since before Maple was born); so I was REALLY looking forward to leaving the little ones at home for a couple hours while I enjoyed a nice lunch. But alas! At yesterday's morning meeting, my the free babysitter (a.k.a. daddy) was "invited" to join a couple of the pastors on an outing, which I will discuss later because I'm not the least bit salty over the fact that he got to do this really cool adults-only thing while I was stuck wiping peanut butter off the back of the couch for the fourth time.

Not the least bit salty.

So, rather than cancel the lunch, I packed up the two little girls and headed out for a taxi. We did end up having a great time, despite the fact that I spent more than half of my lunch time entertaining Chloe or holding Maple.

*le sigh*

And then there's this morning. This morning I awoke quite excited about all the goings-ons outside my window. Ladies, gentlemen, and children alike were blowing up balloons, hanging banners, putting tarp on the playground and chattering happily while setting up for (wait for it...) Kids Camp! This camp has been going on for a couple days now, but we haven't attended because TODAY was focused only on Chloe's age group. They turned a corner of the playground into a swimming pool slash water slide. They had games and food set up inside their classroom. Balloons bounced around in the breeze. The weather was overcast and warm with a slight breeze. This was going to be a FU-HUN day. But alas! Chloe woke up with a temperature of 100.3. She's sick. A.GAIN. So, when at 8:45am my friend the Samonim called to remind me camp started at 9:00am, I was very VERY sad to inform her that we would watch from our window because Chloe was sick. A.GAIN. And that's what we have done this morning. We watched children from the window, skyped with the grandparents, enjoyed a peanut butter sandwich, and took a fitful two-hour nap. Because Chloe is sick. A.GAIN.

Not the least bit salty, I tell you.

So. Yeah. It has been a difficult week.

I wish I had some great spiritual revelation about how longing for home has reminded me about how we Christians long for heaven. Or about how feeling disappointment reminds me that God is my only constant. Or about how smelling like spit-up reminds me of how sin taints all our senses. Or about how making lemonade is the thing to do when life gives you lemons.

But Alas! I have no such tidy metaphorical wrap-up.

I'm just sayin' it's hard this week. Next week will be better, I'm sure.

Until then, I will try not to post any more entries like this. Because, although misery loves company, the company might be bored by misery.

Yeah. That's my deep thought for the day.

For Women Only...

2009-07-10T20:01:00.000-07:00

This is an amazing word from Graham Cook. I have heard it before, but my friend Starr posted the video on her facebook. So good.

Still, it's for women only because some of the pictures would be too immodest for men. Enjoy, ladies!

It's that time again....

2009-07-09T23:33:00.000-07:00

at To Know Him

1. I am assuming mostly women will be participating...What is one item, or article of clothing that you don't mind spending a little extra money on (shoes, purse, etc)? Why?
Jeans. Do I really need to explain why? The right pair of jeans can lift the buttocks, take an inch off the thighs, manage that belly pooch, and make a person look 10 years younger. Ok, so maybe those are only magic jeans that I dream about, but I think you get the general idea. The wrong pair of jeans can make a person look 10 pounds heavier and turn even the trendiest girl into a sporter of the mom jean. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, google "Amy Poehler mom jeans" for one of the greatest SNL skits ever. I would post it here, but NBC won't allow me to open it in Korea due to loose copyright regulations here. Go figure.)
ANYwho, I wear jeans almost every day; so I rationalize spending a pretty penny on my magic jeans like this: if I divide how much I spend on the jeans over the number of days I will wear them, it usually comes out to, like, $0.02/day. If you ask me, that's a whole lot cheaper than a surgical buttocks lift.

2. Are you married? If so, how long? Give the short version of how you met your spouse?
I have been married five years as of June 5 this year. My husband and I have known each other since kindergarten because our parents attended the same church. But we really got to know each other when he fell in "like" with my seventh-grade best friend and, in true middle school fashion, I was the official "note delivery girl" between the two of them. You know, check "yes" or "no" and all that... From that point on, we were pretty inseparable (at church, at least). We started "officially" dating the spring after I turned 16, and we never looked back.

3. Do you find that you have a level of authenticity (being real...the good, bad and very ugly) in your circle of friends? In your Christian circles and Church? If yes, why do you think that is? If no, why do you think that is?
Back home in the states, I have a small group of girlfriends that know more about me than they probably ever wanted to know. They know when things are going well. They know when life is the pits. They know the desires of my heart for ministry. And they know the areas in which I struggle. I miss those ladies very much. Honestly, that has been one of the most difficult parts of coming here. I have a couple friends here with whom I can be very honest; but they don't live close enough to have a whole ton of interaction. Among my acquaintances and fellow Samonims at the church, I try to be as authentic as I can while staying within the cultural norms. "Face" is very important here, and it would reflect badly upon my husband for me to be too "authentic." So, striving to find that balance between being authentic and being respectable is a daily struggle. Still, I love my girls back home, and I try to stay in contact with them via email throughout our time here.

The End.

July 4th Celebration

2009-07-06T19:54:00.001-07:00

We had a good ol' American celebration on Saturday. Except, it wasn't in America. It was on a rooftop in Cheonan, South Korea.

We were able to hang out with another American couple, Victor and Katie, whom we met through the Nazarene Church's English service that we attend once a month.

And yes, I realize what an awkwardly long sentence that is.

Brandon and I brought watermelon which, um, yummy! Seriously, Korean fruit is grown locally and is only available throughout the growing season. Therefore, I am adding "most delicious fruit in the world" to the list of things I will miss when we go back home.

I also cooked a batch of fried apple pies because, well, what says "American Holiday" more than greasy, battered fruit?

Victor and Katie provided hamburger meat, hotdogs, sausages, corn on the cobb, and a yummy spicy slaw for which I will definitely be getting the recipe. We learned a couple things at this, our first Korean cookout.

1. Something to remember about making hamburger patties: when the internet says "make them larger to compensate for shrinking," it means the patties will shrink in circumference, not in height. As a matter of fact, they will grow in height. Do not make 2-inch-thick patties, thinking they will shrink to 1/2-inch-thick patties. You will only end up with 3-inch-thick patties.

2. Do not allow a two-year-old to eat said 3-inch-thick patties, smothered with ketchup, on her own. At least, not without a nearby hose pipe to use for the cleanup.

3. Hotdogs are delicious. Even if they do roll off the grill and onto the rooftop a time or ten.

After the mucho delisioso meal, we took a stroll down to the local store and bought some fireworks. Once it was finally dark, we headed back outside, and many adventures ensued.

Everyone had fun shooting roman candles off the rooftop. (Well, everyone except me because I might be slightly terrified of loud sticks that shoot fire which could potentially poke someone's eye out.)

And, of course, sparklers.

But, by far, the best part of the night was wrapped up in pink plastic petals. This was a "firework" (read: fancy candle) that we got for Chloe because we weren't sure how she would respond to the louder ones.

Theoretically, this "candle" was supposed to "bloom," spin around, and sing a "Happy Birthday" song while the wicks were lit. Apparently, we didn't follow directions (seeing as how they were written in Korean). Because this...

Turned into this...

Which lead to this...

Yeah. I think we all found our inner pyromaniacs that night. Great fun.

All in all, it may be one of the most memorable July 4th's I've ever had... second only to the one where I got a gushing bloody nose in the middle of a picnic, on my first "real" date with my middle school boyfriend. I was so cool, I wonder why that relationship never worked out...

Happy Belated 4th, everyone!!

Just received this message from my mom on facebook....

2009-07-05T05:41:00.000-07:00

I'll take credit (blame) for the pickle songs. When changing her diaper, and she got the wiggles, I'd tell her stupid stories or sing little diddies about pickles...I even played with a real pickle with her over skype.

"This mystery is history!"

(My mom's on facebook. Yeah, she's pretty great.)

(You get 10 mommy points if you know where the mystery quote is from.)

Fun Facts about the girls...

2009-07-03T20:09:00.000-07:00

Things to know about Chloe Jane these days:

1. She is all about writing her own songs these days. Her favorite word to use in said songs: Pickle. Go figure.

2. Turns out, her recent outbursts are not a result of the suspected terrible twos. Thanks to Missy, I discovered that she is, in fact, cutting her two-year molars. (Just call me "Mother of the Year" for missing all the signs.) After a couple rounds of children's tylenol/ibuprofen, she's back to her happy, albeit slightly dramatic self.

3. She is potty training. Oh, yes. So far, it has gone as well as can be expected. Yesterday, we left the house for the first time sans diaper, and we made it through the entire 90-minute playground run without incident. Things are looking up, people.

4. We are pushing the potty training right now because it looks like she will be attending preschool in the fall. She watches from our balcony window as the children load the bus each morning, and she's quite excited to be joining their ranks in a few short weeks.

5. Barbie still rules! Although Little Einsteins is giving her a run for her money.

Things to know about Maple Anne these days:

1. The girl represents the very definition of a "people person." She smiles, like, all the time, and she LUH-HUVS to be held (much to the chagrin of her mommy when dinner-cooking time rolls around).

2. She hasn't "found her thumb" yet, but she sure is trying.

3. Her eyes are now the exact same shade as her big sister's: dark, chocolate brown.

4. She loves bath time like Pooh loves honey, and she is not. very. happy. when she has to get out.

5. Her hair is still there; though it has changed from black to a dark auburn (red in the sun).

Inquiring minds want to know...

2009-06-30T22:03:00.000-07:00

So, I'm getting ready to write a guest blog, and I need some inspiration. For all you THREE faithful readers our there, if you could ask anything about our life here in Korea, what would you want to know?

Because creativity is stifled by stifling heat...

2009-06-28T20:07:00.000-07:00

I have several topics floating around in my brain right now, and I'm having difficulties turning any of them into full-blown creative posts . So, I have decided to write all of them in a single entry via the all-inclusive list format. Please, try to contain your excitement.

1. Yesterday, I laughed REALLY HARD at church. But I cannot tell you why here. If you would like to know, please comment, email, or facebook. I would LOVE to share with some peeps in a not-so-public arena. I mean, seriously, laughed REALLY HARD.

2. Chloe has suddenly reached a new level of "the terrible twos." Cheese and crackers, it's awful! I am at a complete loss! She spends more of her day in time-out than out of it. (I apologize to my high school English teach for the awkwardness of that sentence. It just goes to show how very fried my brain is at this moment.) Seriously, it's like she's never heard the word "no" before because each time I use it, she looks at me with these "gasp-I-can't-believe-you-just-told-me-'no'-and-now-I'm-devastated" eyes before throwing an all-out-lie-in-the-floor-flailing-arms-high-pitched-whine fit. If any of you moms out there have some creative advice for how to "lovingly" shut this mess DOWN fast, I'm aallllllll ears.

3. I was totally composing a post in my brain about this. But Missy at It's Almost Naptime beat me to it and, might I add, did a much better job than I could have. I just found her page a few weeks ago, and it has quickly become a favorite read. Check it out.

4. The rainy season has arrived in South Korea. What does this mean? It means rain in the morning and the most humid weather I have ever experienced in the afternoons. And, being from Georgia, that's saying a lot. Oh, and Bee Tee Dubbayu, we don't have A/C. We did have it for a few glorious hours one afternoon last week, but then the building unit went out, leaving us with a glorified ceiling fan. It's hot, y'all. And I mean HOT.

5. Chloe went to a Korean doctor for the first time last Monday. He confirmed what google suspected: she has mild bronchial asthma. If it stays at this stage, it shouldn't affect her life. She should still be able to do sports, play outside, scream at the top of her Kesler lungs, etc. Basically, it only gets "inflamed" as a result of a cold, upper-respiratory infection, etc. So, as long as we see the doctor right away when she gets sick, we should be able to keep her "attacks" to a minimal.

6. I'm not making any grand political statement here but, you know that doctor's appointment? We were in and out in less than 15 minutes, and it cost about $4.50 USD, medicine and all. Um, yay! for socialized health care.

7. There's a "Safety Show" on Playhouse Disney where a family named their three children, "Lou, Louise, and LuLu." Seriously? I'm pretty sure this makes some grand statement about the decline of our society... and I'm determined to figure out what that statement is. I'll get back to you soon on that one.

8. I have decided not to make the hormone/weight loss videos right now. I know, I know. I promised, but seeing as how that promise was over three months ago, I kind of doubt any of you were still holding your breath for those videos anyways. The fact is that all those hormonal problems I was having, they are starting to resurface. So I'm going to try to get all that stuff back under control before I attempt any grand weight-loss plan. In the meantime, I'll eat sensibly and continue my regular (albeit not that difficult) post natal pilates.

9. Maple has completely dropped one of her night-time feedings, meaning I only have to get up once in the middle of the night for about 15 minutes. Can I get a whoop WHOOP?!

10. Did I mention it's hot?!!! I think the temperature went up 10 degrees while I was writing this post. Dang.

That is all.

Saturday Survey... except it's Sunday.. so, um... Sunday Survey!!!

2009-06-27T20:37:00.000-07:00

I'm really feeling a lack of creativity these days. So memes are saving me! This one is from Amy Beth at MinistrySoFabulous. Whoop WHOOP!

A

Available: For what? ... I'm married.

Age: American: 25. Korean: 27.

Annoyance: Dirty socks in the floor.... perhaps I should have chosen a different profession. :)

Animals? No, thank you.

B

Best feeling in the world: Knowing you are loved.

Best weather: Right before a thunderstorm... when the sky is dark and the wind is blowing and the air smells of rain and the electricity makes your hair stand on end. Yum! Yum!

Been in love: AM in love.

Been on stage: Many times in high school... not so much these days.

Boys: Sure. Like to make a couple of my own some day.

C

Candy: Like it as a name. Not a fan of it as a food.

Chinese / Mexican food: I tolerate both.

Cake or pie: Hm. Cake, I think. Unless it's homemade apple pie... then it's pie. Unless the cake is 12-layer chocolate... then its cake.

Continent to visit: Hoping the next one will be Australia. Wait, that is a continent, right?
D

Dancing in the rain: How 'bout watching the rain while safely snuggled inside reading a book?

Drop things: All the time. Though, thankfully, neither of my children yet.

Dog: Eh.

Diamonds: I love mine, only because they serve reminders of beautiful moments in my life (engagement, wedding, birth of our first child, etc.)

E

Eyes: Dark brown. My mother says it's like chocolate. Others have said it's like I'm full of...

Everyone’s got: toes. Hm. Not sure why I thought of that first.

F

First thought when you wake up: "What time is it?" because I need to know whether to get up and start breakfast of just send Chloe back to bed.

Food: Macaroni and Cheese.

G

Greatest fear: Abandonment... and living a "safe" life. Yeah, sometimes those fears clash.

Gum: Yes, please.

Happy: Relatively speaking.

Holiday: Thanksgiving... and July 4th. I'm going to miss both of those this year. :(

I

Ice cream: Recently, cookies 'n' cream. Staple, moose tracks.

Instrument: Flute and a little guitar. Would love to play piano.

J

Jewelry: I have one pair of earrings and one necklace that I wear almost every day. Brandon gave me the earrings when we were dating. He gave me the necklace on my first Mother's Day as a mommy.

Job: Wife, Mommy and soon-to-be teacher?

K

Keep a journal? Three: this one, a private online one, and a private hand-written one used for my quiet time.

Kissing: Only with my hubby and little girls. I'm not a huge fan of PDA otherwise.

L

Laughed so hard you cried: Probably. Can't remember specifics.

Last time slept: For about two hours this morning - between 5:30am and 7:30am. Ah, the sleep-deprived joys of motherhood.
M

Movies: Amazing Grace. If you haven't seen it, RENT IT NOW. It holds my favorite movie quote of all time: "We understand that you are having trouble deciding whether you should do the work of God or to stay in politics. May we humbly suggest, you can do both.”

Motion sickness: Och! Unfortunately.

N

Not ready for: this adventure to end.

Name: Yes, I have one.

O

One wish: If I had only one? ...Some things are too close to the heart....
P

Perfect pizza: Pizza Hut, thin crust, beef 'n' bacon with extra cheese. Healthy, no?

Pets: a fish.

Q

Quote you’re loving: "I may be strong-minded, but no one can say I'm out of my sphere now, for woman's special mission is supposed to be drying tears and bearing burdens."
-Loisa May Alcott, Little Women

R

Reality TV: Jon & Kate, that is all.

S

Song of the moment: Anything by... *cringe*... Taylor Swift. I know. I KNOW.

Salad Dressing: Hidden Valley ranch. Yay! for hubby bringing a massive bottle from the states!

Strawberries: Korean strawberries really are the best I've ever had!!

T

Thunderstorms: Yes, please.

Trust: Must be earned, can be lost, but is rarely a true mistake.

U

Unpredictable: Life.

V

Vacation spot: The Mountains... preferably, Cara Maggie's family cabin. :) :) That still remains, potentially, my favorite place on earth.

W

Weakness: Coffee... and gossip. I'm working on letting go of both...

Worst feeling: Fear of being unloved... and regret.

X

X-rays: A necessary evil, I suppose. They should have said "x-ray vision" because, well, that would be awesome.

Y

Yellow: Reminds me of baby poop.

Z

Zoo animal: Do brothers count? KIDDING!

Know & Tell Friday

2009-06-25T20:30:00.001-07:00

It's Friday y'all (at least, here in Korea it is), and you know what that means:

...from To Know Him

Here are today's questions:

1. On a normal day...You just pulled out a load of laundry from your dryer, what would be the next thing you do?

Well, I don't actually have a dryer. Here in Korea, very few people have dryers, and the ones that do have them only have small, "apartment dryers" that don't work very well anyways. So, I hang all my clothes here:

And here:

When the laundry dries - be it after two hours or two days, depending on the weather - what I do with it depends on what kind of day we're having in our house. If it's a low-key, easy day, I fold the laundry as I pull it off the line and put it in my favorite lime green laundry basket:

Then I take the basket to each room of the house and put the laundry away. However, on days when we're busy or when the girls need more attention than normal, I simply make room for the next load by removing the dry clothes from the rack and throwing them into the lime green basket unfolded. Usually, the basket of unfolded clothes sits in my living room a day or ten... sometimes longer...

2. Have you seen all three movies from the Kendrick Brothers? Fireproof, Facing the Giants, and Flywheel... If not, go out and rent them today. If so tell me what you thought of them.

I have never heard of Flywheel, but I'm definitely putting it on my "soon-to-be downloaded" list because, y'all, I LUH-HUV Facing the Giants and Fireproof. I like Facing the Giants mainly because it was filmed in my home state, using actors from the local churches and high schools. That just makes me happy. :) But Fireproof? Oh, my, how I love that movie!!! Even my husband, who normally scoffs at sappy Christian movies, recommended this one to his friends. So many movies in our culture show the "ugly spouse" in a failing marriage and then the "beautiful affair" that brings "real love" into the character's life. I love that this movie lays it all out there. Yes, sometimes marriage is hard - like, gut-wrenching, I-have-no-more-tears, how-did-we-get-here kind of hard. But I LOVE that we finally have a movie where the answer to that kind of marriage isn't found in a lustful affair, but rather in sacrificing to honor vows and to love relentlessly - "as Christ loves the church."

How did I get on that soap box again?

3. Currently is there something in your life that you feel God wants you to give up or surrender to Him?

Sheesh. Where do I begin? I guess my primary area right now is my reputation. You see, while there are wonderful advantages to living in a close-knit community like I do, there are also some drawbacks, especially with all the cultural differences. People know when you go to the store, when you take out the trash, when you dress in shorts, and when you don't wear makeup. Every step I take outside my apartment (and sometimes inside my apartment) is noticed by someone. This fact in and of itself doesn't really bother me that much. I absolutely love the sense of community we have here, even if it does mean losing a little bit of privacy.

But the problem is this: I have a very hard time balancing between wanting to be "culturally appropriate" and wanting to be "liked by everyone." There is a huge difference, for sure. Being "culturally appropriate" means I dress modestly and carefully attempt to adhere to the rules that dictate relationships here. Wanting them to "like me" (read: approve of me) leads me down an entirely different thought life. What are they wearing? Should I wear shorts or capris? sandals or flip flops? hair up or down? How do they dress their kids? Are Chloe's tennis shoes too gaudy? Is Maple dressed too warmly or too cold for their liking? Are their toddlers as dirty as mine by the end of the day? Do the bottom of their socks get dirty like mine? (Seriously, I actually started looking at the bottom of other moms' socks in the mommy-baby room.)

I find myself constantly analyzing and over-analyzing what they might think of me and my family.

This is a thought pattern that the Lord has exposed in my heart over the past week, and I feel He's calling me to give it up.

I mentioned earlier that I am really trying to connect with the Samonims in my building, and that connection is not possible (at least not to the degree that I would like) as long as my own insecurities about their opinion of me get in the way. I must remember that I am simply called to walk in love towards my neighbors. Sometimes that means adhering to culturally appropriate boundaries in what I wear and how I look. But my motive should be to love them and show them respect through my actions and appearance... not freak out over what they think of me.

So that's it. That's what I'm working on changing... and giving up.

Well, that, and chocolate pancakes. But that's just too painful to talk about right now...

Jon & Kate

2009-06-23T16:15:00.000-07:00

I have been debating with myself since yesterday about whether or not I would join the legions of bloggers who offer their not-so-informed opinions about Jon & Kate's recent decision.

It's Jon's fault. It's Kate's fault. It's TLC's fault. It's the viewing audience's fault.

So many opinions; so many judgments.

I know this sounds silly, but I have prayed for this family since I started watching the show. I have also thanked the Lord for their testimony - that, despite their difficulties, they rely on Him and love each other. And on days when things are really hard around here, I think about Kate and how she relies on the Lord for her strength. (If you haven't read Multiple Bles8ings by Kate, it's an eye-opening read.)

I'm not really one to become "invested" in reality TV. I assume most of it is fake. But, as I have said before, I find myself drawn to Kate - maybe because I see a little of myself in her.

So here we are. It has come down to filing for divorce, and I'm not sure what to say about it. I think Leslie Ruth said everything I'm thinking, and she said it much better than I ever could.

I will say this much. Just give me a minute to find a soap box to stand on...

Divorce sucks. For everyone involved. Whether it hurts when it happens... or it doesn't hurt until 10 years later... eventually, it hurts everybody.

And there is some lie floating around our society - and in our church - that through divorce "maybe now I can be happy" or "maybe now we can have some peace" or "maybe now we can move on and things will get better." BUT THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH, Y'ALL. And so thinking that SIN is going to bring the PEACE that we seek is the very definition of false expectations.

I'm not saying the Lord can't redeem a divorced situation. I'm not saying that, if we turn our hearts to Him, that he can't work things together for good.

I myself have seen that play out in my own family. I have seen how divorce hurts. How, even though it was supposed to be for the better, it hurt e.ver.y.one. I have also seen the Lord's goodness to bring about good for everyone involved. I have a step-family (on both sides) that I could not imagine my life without. I would not be where I am today without them in my life.

But that doesn't change the fact that Divorce Sucks. It doesn't bring peace. It doesn't solve our problems. It IS NOT the "best decision for our kids."

Ok. Stepping off my soap box. Click on over to Diary of a Southern Drama Queen because, honestly, she just said it right.

* Of course, there are Biblical reasons for divorce, and this post is not meant to heap guilt or condemnation on individuals caught in those situations. In this post, I refer only to the use of divorce as an "escape" from marital problems. An "easy" out.

** I'm also not implying that Kate doesn't have grounds for a Biblical divorce. I don't know the details, and I'm sure that few do. Basically, this situation has just made me angry at the Devil, and I'm just making a statement - a fact of life, if you will - about divorce in general. It sucks. That's it.

Down and up and down down down.

2009-06-21T06:49:00.000-07:00

Today was an up and down day. More downs than ups, I'm afraid.

But I don't want to talk about the downs tonight. I want to remember the beautiful parts of today because the ups were really up.

First of all, today was our first day back to church since Maple Anne was born. One of the samonims delivered a baby boy just five days after Maple arrived; so this was her first Sunday back also. It was nice sharing the experience with another mom. We walked in together, showed off our babies, sat next to each other in the mommy-baby room, and then proceeded downstairs to Senior Pastor's office.

It is tradition in Korean churches for a new baby to be presented to and blessed by the Pastor upon her first visit to the church. So Brandon and Chloe met me and Maple in Pastor's waiting room along with Samonim's family with their new baby. We went first, and Pastor prayed a very special blessing over Maple Anne and over our family while our good friend Eun Young (a Pastor-in-training at the church) interpreted. I really wish I could have recorded his prayer because it truly was something beautiful. In the midst of it, I felt like Mary in Luke 2:19. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.

It was one of those beautiful moments that I hope I can remember in vivid detail for the rest of my life.

Later in the day, while we were all sitting around the house in our underwear because (hello!) it's bloomin' hot here and (ugh!) our air conditioner is basically a glorified fan, our home phone rang. A man on the other end introduced himself and asked to meet with Brandon after the late service to discuss Chloe Jane. Um... that's random. Ok, I guess?

Let me preface their conversation with some history. Brandon and I decided a while ago that the fall Chloe turns three (this fall), we will send her to some kind of preschool or Mother's Morning Out, etc. That is, we had decided that before we new we were moving to Korea. But upon arriving here, we realized how difficult that would actually be. In a place like Seoul, there are several different English-speaking preschools that would be happy to take an American child (if only to help the other children speak English more quickly). But in the less metropolitan city where we live, there is only one (very expensive) school. We heard the price, and discovered that it was almost half of Brandon's monthly salary. Also, we weren't sure if "English School" meant "school where Koreans teach English" or if it really meant "we speak English here." Needless to say, we tabled that option for, like, ever. Since that time, we have really been praying about what to do this fall. Should we keep Chloe in the house for yet another long winter? Should we send her to a Korean school and hope she picks up the language (something that would help her build relationships with the children in our building)? We really had no idea what to do with her, that is, until this morning.

Turns out, that one English-speaking school here in Cheonan? It's owned and managed by a couple that attends our church. They heard that we had been looking into preschool options, and wanted to meet with Brandon to tell him that they are willing to give a HUGE discount for Chloe's tuition. Also, their teachers are both native English speakers (from Australia, America, and parts of Europe) as well as native Korean speakers. They teach both English and Korean (and HUGE plus!!!). The owner offered to let us tour the facility any time this summer, and we definitely plan on taking him up on that. We're still not 100% positive if we will do this. A lot depends on what classes (if any) I will take this fall. But also? Due to the location of the school, in order for Chloe to attend, my three-year-old daughter will have to board a school bus every morning... on her own... by herself. And by that I mean, without her mommy. I have no doubt that she will be fine. It's very common for Korean children that young to ride a school bus, and I'm sure most of them do it without permanent injury. I'm just not sure if I will be fine. It breaks my mommy-heart a little to think of it. But, as I said, we will continue to think and pray about it. Still, it's nice to know we have an English option come this fall. Woo hoo!

So, those are the better parts of today.

While I won't go into all the details of what made parts of this day sooooo down, I will ask for prayer for one specific thing: Chloe Jane's health. She has had a pretty nasty cough off and on since we arrived in Korea. This time around, it has become much, much worse. Sometimes she coughs so hard it's difficult for her to catch her breath, causing her to throw up. According to google (a.k.a. hypochondriacs anonymous), all signs point to a form of childhood asthma. We're going to a doctor tomorrow to have some tests run. Please be praying a.) for good communication between me and the doctors, despite the language barrier, b.) for a correct diagnosis, and c.) for a treatment to that diagnosis.

Ok peeps, that's it for now. Sorry this wasn't very creatively written. I just wanted to get it all out of my head before it left for good. You know how that is, right? Wait, right?

I should go back and proofread this randomness...

Whew, it's late. I'm going to bed. G'night y'all.

Happy Happy Day Day

2009-06-19T01:49:00.000-07:00

So yesterday was my sweet hubby's birthday. We're not big on gifts around here, and hubby bought most things that he needed/wanted when he took his trip to the states a couple weeks ago. So, in place of store-bought gifts, I substituted (what else?) fattening food. :)

Per his request, I cooked French Toast for breakfast - a rarity around these parts due to the ridiculous cost of butter which, as we all know, is the very foundation of good French toast. Unfortunately, I failed to take pictures of the buttery goodness. Please try to manage your disappointment.

I did, however, manage to snap a couple shots of the "All-American" dinner that I cooked for his birthday. The corn dogs were frozen and cooked in the microwave. Please, try not to hate me for my culinary genius. It takes years to master microwave perfection. The other two dishes were simply salads.

"But what is that fourth dish that can only be described as looking scrumptrulescently greasy?" you may ask. It is, my dear readers, homemade cheese fries. Oh, yes.

And then there was the cake, which is store bought because, well, we don't have an oven and because, well, do I look like Betty Crocker to you?

Korean cakes really are fabulous.

And finally... the birthday boy... who is actually a man... because he turned 26... more than halfway to 30... just thought I'd mention that...

And now for the rest of the pictures (mainly featuring Chloe's consumption of an unspeakable amount of birthday cake)...

Brandon's birthday and some

So that's pretty much it. We may not have grand adventures, and we may not give great gifts... but we certainly do know how to celebrate with food.

Here's to grease and empty calories!!

Happy Birthday, honey! I love you!

Know & Tell Friday Meme

2009-06-18T20:35:00.000-07:00

Today I am participating in a meme from To Know Him entitled "Know and Tell". The idea of the meme is for bloggers to get to know each other a little better. So each week, she asks three questions for us bloggers to answer. Most bloggers are leaving comments on her page; so check them out. As for me, I had nothing better write about. Hence, my answers here on the blog.

So, here goes...

1. Have you ever been bitten by an animal? (let's only say yes if the bite was a serious one.) If yes, tell about it and what happened.

I have never required medical attention for an animal bite. However, I have been pecked (rather ferociously) behind the knee by a rooster in my Granddaddy's corn patch. While no stitches were required, it was quite the traumatic childhood experience. To this day, I am terrified of most birds, and I feel a small sense of satisfaction when boiling a whole chicken.

2. When are you at your best? Morning, noon or night?

I used to absolutely love the nighttime, and I still do most of my best creative thinking after 10pm. But I find I have more energy for the every-day stuff (cooking, cleaning, playing with Chloe Jane) in the late morning, around 10am-noon. Earlier than that, and I am more zombie than mommy. But by noon, nap time has come upon us, and I am ready to take advantage of it with my own little snoozer.

3. How is your Quiet Time at this present season in your life? (Quiet Time refers to the time you spend alone with God through prayer and reading of His word...Q.T. could have other elements, but prayer and Bible reading are the main focus) If you can give us a little example of when and where you do your Q.T. If you are struggling with having a Q.T. what can you do to develop a Q.T.?

Right now my QT is a bit sporadic. As I've mentioned in previous posts, adding a second child into the mix has seriously challenged my time management skills (or lack thereof). So I basically try to squeeze in some "God 'n' me" time whenever - if ever - the house is quiet. Often, I do my QT in my bed because the bedside table in my room is the one place where I know my Bible, journal, highlighter, pen, and whatever book I'm reading, can reside without being disturbed or strewn about the house.

For me, QT looks different during different seasons of life. When life is really crazy difficult, I usually just end up sitting silently with some worship music playing. I know this seems a bit superficial since there is no "in depth" studying or "hard core" intercession going on. But when life is that hard, I can find no better solution than to readjust my focus - to remind myself (through worship) that though my problems are big, my God is infinitely bigger. He is sovereign. He is good. And no matter what storm rages around me, He is in control. Worship helps put all that into perspective.

But recently, my QT has been focused in the book of Hebrews. For some reason, the subject of suffering and Grace have been constant themes in my "conversations" with the Lord over the past couple months. I am finding that the book of Hebrews is absolutely amazing in showing how those two concepts (I am convinced) often come hand-in-hand in a Christian's life.

I am also finding a new meaning to the word "meditation" when it comes to scripture. Here in our Korean church, there is a lot of focus on quiet, humble piety - on really digesting the Word and really considering every word before one is spoken in prayer. Any time a scripture is read in the service, it is always followed by a brief moment of collective silent reflection. So, learning from this new way of "doing church," I am taking more time to really focus and reflect on what I'm reading. Sometimes that means taking a couple weeks to work through a chapter - rereading it, picking out the important ideas/phrases/words. And you know what? Hebrews has really come alive to me. I have read it before, a couple times, in one of those "read the Bible in a year" deals. I'm not knocking that... there's something to be said for getting the big picture by reading the whole thing in a novel-like fashion. But this is different. I find things there I have never seen before. Phrases that I used to graze past because they didn't make sense, suddenly jump off the page and offer answers. It really is an amazing new way (at least, new to me) to study God's Word. And I'm really loving it.

My prayer time recently has been admittedly selfish. "How can I help Chloe during these transitions?" "How can I manage my time better in my home?" "Heal me, Lord." "Give me patience to endure, Lord." While I really enjoy our conversations, I also realize there is a greater need for me to pray for others as well. This is something that I am working on. However, I am finding that, since there are so few moments of quiet in our home, my "official"' QT is better spent in the Word. So I am trying to learn to pray for others and bask in God's presence while completing the every-day mundane tasks (a la Brother Lawrence).

So that's it. I could go on an on, but I won't - mainly because I'm not sure you readers would be very interested, but also because Maple Anne just woke up.

Stay tuned for more memes...

Another day in the U.S. of... wait....

2009-06-18T01:34:00.000-07:00

So, while on my normal blog jog this afternoon, I was so grateful to find this little link gem through It's Almost Nap Time.

I can't agree more that every mom (particularly those of us in the throws of toddler years) must read this article.

I was so encouraged by it today... especially since last night's dinner dishes are still in the sink and the laundry that went in the wash this morning has still not been hung up. Such is life these days.

In other news, Maple Anne had her first doctor's appointment today. She was deemed "very healthy" and has gained 2.5lbs in a month! I really love those little roly-poly legs. However, she also got her first shots today: Hepatitis B and Tuberculosis (something that kids in the states don't have to get, I think). She was a little trooper. After just a few screams (and some yummy mommy milk) she drifted off to sleep before we left the office. Now she's running the typical low-grade fever and sleeping the day away. Poor little thing.

Chloe Jane has her first summer cold. That's always fun. Runny nose, coughing, the works. And again I say: poor little thing. So she stayed home today and watched Little Einstein for an ungodly amount of time. Each episode is a "reward" for drinking 5 gulps of water. "But isn't that bribery?" you ask. You bet it is. And, oh yes, it works. We've emptied two juice cups since noon. Can I get a whoop WHOOP?!

Also, today is sweet hubby's birthday!!! Happy Day, my love!!

I got up (before the doctor's appointment) and made French Toast for breakfast (a rare treat because of the cost of butter 'round these parts). For dinner we have: corn dogs, cheese fries, fruit salad, and birthday cake. We celebrate American-style, what can I say?

So, with all the craziness that today entailed, is it any wonder those clothes are still sitting there?

Anywho... all in all, today has been a pretty decent (albeit abnormal) day.

Hope all the family has a great time at Kid's Camp this week! Wish we could be there with you! Love you lots!

Peace out.

Join me for breakfast, won't you?

2009-06-14T17:10:00.001-07:00

...mainly because I need to practice cool features on my new camera.

First of all, I got a new cutting board which, um, I kind of love.

Secondly, pancakes make the world a better place, don't you think? Especially when accompanied by hot coffee.

Finally, I learned a valuable lesson today. All the best time management intentions in the world go out the window when the cook forgets to flip the pancake because she's too busy taking pictures of her cutting board. You like yours extra crispy, right?

A life's lesson in time management...

2009-06-14T04:19:00.000-07:00

This is the end of Day 3 with nary a grandparent in sight. We are managing. And managing is exactly the right word for it. I never realized how much time management is involved with two little ones!

At this very moment, I am limiting my blog time to exactly ten minutes because in 13 minutes, hubby will be home, and I need to toast the garlic toast so that it will be warm when he walks in. Chloe Jane is in the tub, and will be ready to get out in exactly 15 minutes, which marks the beginning of her bedtime ritual (jammies, book, water, blanket, more water, Eskimo kisses, lights out). All this must be completed in exactly 30 minutes because, by that point, Maple Anne will be ready to eat again.

My entire day has run like that.

At the end of each of the last three days, I reflect back over the moments that didn't go so well and consider what I can do better to avoid such moments in the future.

Like the moment when I was trying to get that load of laundry hung up before Maple got too fussy from hunger. She was not yet at that critical point where, if she wasn't fed, she would go full-fledged, red-faced screaming infant. It just so happens that as she began to reach that point, Chloe Jane discovered a piece of string floating in her bath water, which caused her to scream out, "MOMMYYYYYYYYYY! IT'S DIRTY!!!! THE WATER!!!!!!!! IT'S A BUG!!!!!!! I WANT TO GET OUT!!!!!!!!!!!"

So there I was, standing with wet clothes in hand, bouncing a screaming infant while trying to reason with a panicky toddler.

It was not my finest moment. All I could do was laugh, let Maple scream, get Chloe out very quickly and leave her diapering/dressing for later, then comfort both of them on the couch - one in each arm - while finally feeding Maple.

At the end of that day, I decided that the laundry should have waited, and I should have fed Maple right when she woke up. Problem solved.

Each of the last three days have had moments like that (today more than the other two, it seems). And each day I learn something new about time management. I'm learning to do the things that really matter, and let the rest wait. And for the sake of peace in our home (and my own sanity), sometimes that means taking a nap when there is housework to be done.

And sometimes it means finishing a blog before I've said anything interesting because there is garlic toast to be made.

Toodle pip.