In Which I Attempt to Describe Myself...

This weekend, I had to write a short bio about myself. Not just any bio, but one specifically related to fashion and beauty products.

I thought all the way back to childhood days, and laughed at all the memories. I mean, how often do you ever sit and think about how to explain yourself to others?

It got me thinking. (scary....) If had to actually write my entire boigraphy, or even just a shortened version, how in the world would I describe myself??
I could list all the things that I do...
"Bathe, dress, apply makeup. Pray. Make breakfasts, lunches and dinners. Shop. Check homework. Pray. Eat chocolate. Shop. Drink tea. Talk on the phone. Shop."

Or, a description of my likes and dislikes....
"Loves lavender. Hates vanilla candles and bath products. Loves a good bargain, pulling tags off new clothes, and cute boots that don't hurt her feet. Dislikes mushrooms and red wine. Likes watching The Office. Hates when people chew with their mouth open. Loves the sound of her kids laugher, and the feel of a good neck massage."

Maybe describing all the things I don't do would clue people in to the real me....
"Does not scrapbook. Does not even print out pictures for the scrapbook that she does not make. Does not always do dishes, or consistenly keep up with laundry. Does not get her money's worth from her gym membership. Does not buy only organic foods. Does not always send field trip permission slips in on time. Does not care if her toddler occasionally drinks Coke from a sippee cup."

Or my appearance?
"Crazy head of blonde curly hair. Blue eyes. Freckles. Two wrinkle lines on her forehead. Not the same size as when she graduated high school. Would never be caught dead in mom-jeans. Or a turtleneck. Or sneakers if she is not working out."

I have no idea how many of these things my friends know about me and see in me. In reality, none of that stuff really matters, does it? (well, except for the mom-jeans part. I need people to remember that I never cracked under pressure.....)

I think I'll spend a few minutes pondering what it is I want to be remembered for. But in the meantime, how would you describe yourself???

Boomerang

I have a lot of sayings that I use with my kids.
Some are funny, and some are serious.
For instance, I get teased a lot by my family for always saying to my kids, "You are responsible for your own fun!" And years ago when the girls were really little, we'd tell them that it was "time for their butts to go to bed." It eventually got shortened to "It's Time For Your Butt!" And to this day, they know what it means!

Some things end up getting said more often to one particular child. In my middle child's case, we have some issues with obedience. Somehow, after 9 years, she still sees obedience as being optional. (But don't we all, sometimes?)
I'm sure she doesn't like hearing it, but my saying to her has become this: "Your job is immediate obedience!" And I have to say it all. the. stinkin'. time.

A few days ago, I may have lost my cool. (Maybe just a little bit.) I heard myself asking her, in exasperation, "WHAT DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT IMMEDIATE OBEDIENCE??? WHAT IS SO HARD ABOUT THAT???"

And suddenly, it hit me like a ton of bricks. My question had been flung out to my daughter, but it came hurling back toward me. I heard God asking me, "How do YOU feel about immediate obedience?"

WELL.

You see, sometimes that might be a teensy problem. Or sometimes a big one.

Here's a big shocker: I don't always obey. And if I do, I can't honestly say that it's always immediate.

Here I've been, flustered at my 9 year old's lack of comprehension about obeying immediately. And here I am, 35 years old, expecting it from her but not giving it to my holy God.

I'm trying to imagine what my life would be like if I took my own advice. Immediate Obedience. Every. Single. Time.

I am SO THANKFUL that His mercies are new every morning...... Great is Your faithfulness Lord, Unto me.

This 'N That

A few random gripes and smiles today, because that's all my stuffed-up head can handle.

Oh wait, that was gripe #1. Yes, the day the girls went back to school, I came down with a whopper of a cold. I had a crappy night's sleep last night, and I feel even worse today.

But on a positive note, I had a lovely time at tea with friends this morning. Good tea, treats, and conversation. And my parents even watched John so I could enjoy my sipping kid-free.

Unfortunately I don't think I'll be feeling better by tomorrow, which by the way, happens to be my birthday. Ugh. (35 is sounding a lot older than 34.)

The SMILE is that Ryan just emailed me and said he's taking the day off tomorrow to celebrate. He said the world is my (stuffy, sneezing) oyster. Hmmm, what to do, what to do.....

I came home to dog poo a little while ago. Someone needs to explain to Chester that it's not the gift I was hoping for.

On a brighter note, my sweet friend Amanda brought a scrumptious chocolate birthday cake to tea this morning. And Su fixed a wonderful African tea to go with it.

When I arrived at my mom's, my belly sloshing full of tea, I was told that my son has been spreading rumors about me. Yes, the cute 3 year old with a smile that lights up a room, told Grammy that "Mommy does BAD THINGS." GASP! When Grammy asked for more juicy details, she was told that "Mommy yelled at me." Ahem. Me? Yelling? Moving on......

And there you have it. The past 12 hours in full detail. I think I should keep countin' my blessings, cuz my little gripes aren't looking so bad. As a matter of fact, it's a pretty sneezy, I mean sunshiney day!

Unexpected Tears

After 11 years of being a mommy, I've been through a lot of firsts with my kids, like walking, talking, teeth, big bed, and first day of school.
Last night, in preparation for becoming the mom of a middle schooler, I had an unexpected first.

Emma layed all her clothes out, showered, dried her hair, gathered all her things, and recited her locker combination 10 more times. But after her shower, she decided that she needed to have her legs shaved before walking through the doors of middle school. Yes, this is a first. And nope, I wasn't really ready for it.

Have you ever shaved someone ELSE'S legs? It's kinda weird. Especially when it's your own kid. And especailly when I don't think I am old enough to have a kid who shaves her legs!!! (because it's all about me, right?)

I politely told Emma that I would help her shave once. (It's pain enough to shave my own legs, and I'm not reallly in the market to be shaving two pairs....)

My eyes got watery as I finished. So stupid, I know! Crying about a leg shaving ceremony.

This morning we were up at dark-o-clock. I fixed her breakfast, prayed with her, and sent her on her merry little middle school way. And I got teary again.

So I guess I learned a few things this week. 1) I do not like shaving other people's legs. And 2) My little girl is growing up. (sniff sniff sniff....)

What have YOU learned this week? To read more about what others have learned this week, go to What I Learned This Week at Musings of a Housewife.

Out of the Mouths (of kids...)

I had such a huge laugh yesterday, I just had to share!

Last night a friend was over with her 6 year old daughter, who I will call Sally. We were all sitting on the couch, and Clara was sitting and listening to all the conversation too. My friend was laughing at how she always tells her daughter that when she was born, she "shot out like a football." (Ok, ignore the TMI...)

She started telling a very quick birth story, and it went like this: "Right before she was ready to be delivered, I felt so sick. I kept telling the nurse that I had to throw up. The nurse told me to just get it over with. So I did. I threw up, and when I did, Sally shot right out."

We laughed together about it. Clara's eyes got real big. With her mouth hanging open, she asked, "Sally came out of your MOUTH???!!!"

Sorry, but that is just too funny!
Enjoy your weekend! :)

What Does That Make Me?

This morning, I drove my lucky little girls over to Grandma and Papa's house, so they could go to a waterpark together. On the way there, I heard them discussing the Jonas Brothers.

A recap of the conversation:
Clara: "Did you know Kevin Jonas might be engaged?" (really? says who??) "I mean, he's like 22 years old!"
Emma: "Oh my gosh. He's like old as dirt!"

Allllllll-righty then. So what does that make ME??

Well, I guess I learned this week that I'm even older than dirt. To read more about what others have learned this week, visit Musings of a Housewife!

When Worlds Collide

I went to get the mail today, just like any other day.
I walked up the steps, tossed the mail on the ottoman, and continued my online search for the perfect Vera Bradley purse for Emma to carry with her to Middle School next week.

I was getting aggravated because I wasn't finding what I was looking for. And the one I liked was a few dollars more than I preferred to spend. And for goodness sakes, what does an 11 year old need with an expensive pocketbook, anyway?? I found a cute one for only $35 dollars, but it wasn't the perfect color.
Sigh.

Then I opened the mail.

I had a letter, and I just love getting lettters. This one was from a little boy named Sam. He lives all the way across the world, in Uganda. I couldn't wait to read what he has to say.

You see, even though we've never met, he loves me. And my family. He tells us so every time he write to us. He prays for me. And he thanks me for everything I do for him. Every. Single. Time.

What breaks my heart is that I don't think I really do all that much for him. I write a check for $37 each month. I pray for him. And I occasionally send him a letter. Just $37 measly dollars - the amount that I would toss away so Emma can carry a purse she likes better than the multiple purses she already has.

I read Sam's letter today. He told me that he thanks God for me every day. He is joyful. He goes to school Monday through Friday, and on Saturday he goes to "the Centre." He said he loves that, because he always eats a good meal there. He wanted to know if I also live in a grass hut.

Was it even possible that just moments before, I'd been irritable over a purse?

He asked me to pray for him, because he would like wisdom.

Oh my, how I desperately need wisdom myself. So much more than this precious little boy could ever understand.

I long to hold him. To live just one day in his shoes.
To see the world through his eyes. To see my God the way that Sam sees Him.

I can put him out of my mind if I choose, for a time. Sometimes I do that, although I'm not proud to admit it. And then our worlds collide, and his reality unfolds before my very eyes through his letters.

I can never be the same. And I pray that God will continue to stir my heart, so that I never want to be blinded again.

I wonder some days if I am really the blessing to Sam, or if we are a part of each other's lives because God knew that I would need him.

If you don't already, would you consider sponsoring a child who desperately needs your help? It's so easy.... just go to www.Compassion.com

If you already sponsor a child, or if you've just decided to, tell me about it!