Tongue Tied

I read the dumbest article this morning about a couple that was refusing to reveal the gender of their four month old baby to anyone, including grandparents, because they wanted the child to be able to make any choices concerning gender. They have two sons that are already struggling with sorting through the identity crisis their parents have thrust upon them. Letting your little boy wear a pink shirt if he wants to is no big deal. But using your kids as a social experiment is appalling. Anyway, it got me thinking about gender, and how even those who claim it shouldn't be a big deal are making it a big deal. I spent equal amounts of time as a child playing in mud with trucks and with dress up clothes and make up. No one cared. My boys seem to prefer obnoxious wrestling to dress up clothes, but in the times they've played with their cousin's dolls or played house I've never given it a second thought. More important then letting your kids choose their gender is providing ...

I can't believe it's been a year already. I think about Chi every day. I think about how his life was such a tragedy and a miracle all rolled into one. I think about the grief his parents face every moment. I think about how God used him in a big way in my life. I think about how I would feel if I was Marissa, having to figure out how to process losing my child while being a successful mom to my living ones. I think about how big God is and how we get lost sometimes in the details that we see before us, but how there is so much beyond our reasoning and experience that we can't fathom. But I'm so thankful we have hope. I'm so thankful that Malachi's parents know Jesus. I'm so thankful that sometimes in tragedy, God's love shines brightest. If God used Chi in some way in your life, big or small, head here and you can be an encouragement to John and Marissa by sharing your story.

Dang dang dang dang dang. Sorry. But the words in my head were worse. I am so over being "poor". I put poor in quotes, because, yes, I understand that there are people in the world who are destitute. I'm not in any way saying that I am worse off than those individuals that are starving. But by American, modern world standards...Dude, we're poor. I'd like to thank the feminists of the sixties who told women that staying at home was lame and they should go to work like a man. So that now, a generation later, women HAVE to go to work just to keep their finances afloat. Insisting on that right led to American consumerism since there was suddenly more money coming in. And now, prices are so high we have to have two income homes because prices are based on those figures. So those of us who choose to stay home and homeschool are punished. I'm sick and tired of the money not stretching between paychecks. Of savings being a laughable situation. Of not being able to gi...

My armless child Did a little blogging. Cleaned up about 4 million of these. Doing some light reading. The amazing invisible chin up bar trick. Thing Two has to get in on the action. My mom made me a childhood favorite dinner. I drank this. And another. And had regrets. My last official birthday. Blurry photo. Weird kid. The end.

I try to be a tough cookie. I hate feminine outbursts and I absolutely loathe crying. I want so badly to be independent, successful on my own, free from charity of others. I want to fix my problems myself, because above all else, I want to keep my biggest needs private. Here's the thing though: I'm no superhero. Try as I might, I don't have all the solutions and answers to my nagging problems. I'm not an island. I can't magically make everything work. Despite my best efforts, I fail. Regularly. This is where I have found myself lately, overwhelmed with a particular trial. I hate it, because I've survived bigger personal tragedy and yet, I can't seem to muddle through this relatively mundane one. It's always there, a constant nagging, a constant reminder that I am a failure. It's not really sadness anymore. It's progressed to bitterness, to anger that I'm still dealing with this stupid problem. It's petty whining and selfishness and wonde...

1. I can hardly be called a procrastinator since I'm already in my pajamas. 2. The more pregnant I am, the more makeup I require. 3. Anything in my home can and probably will be painted, including children. 4. I'd leave the house, but why? All my chocolate is here. 5. There are no beings more evil in this world than cats, especially the ones that poop the planter in our front yard. 6. It may not be normal, but I would totally be okay with spontaneous musical numbers in my life. 7. I can handle unmedicated childbirth, but not wet socks. 8. Happiness is a McDonald's ice cream cone. 9. Saving the princess is a valuable skill and should be included on job applications. 10. Every list on my blog must contain ten items.

...because I may or may not be aware that I'm even writing it. I'm in full on zombie mode today. I awoke at 3am to the dog wanting to go out. Five minutes later, the boys' door opened and I heard the blessed sound of post nightmare crying. Soon, they're both awake and struggling to go back to sleep. Finally, Thing One nodded off and Thing Two settled into his bed, quietly whining "I wanna get up." I was just about to nod off, when Husband started coughing, a lovely after effect of his cold. And when Husband coughs, it's eardrum shattering. Then I had to go to the bathroom. Then Sweet Tart (which is what Thing One requested we name the baby) wouldn't allow me to get comfortable. And then my brain started racing. I mentally reorganized every room of our house, settled on a floor plan and who would sleep where, fretted about money for about an hour and a half and cursed my allergies for flaring up. I didn't go back to sleep, except to doze for abo...

As we were all gathering in the kitchen for supper yesterday, Seth was in the middle of telling me about his day.... "I got made fun of at work today." I giggled, because the fire academy is basically like high school....but with fire. "Why?" "Because I wouldn't say (spelling) a-s-s." As soon as he started spelling, my brain was like, d'oh. "FYI, you can't spell anymore, because Thing One can figure that out." Almost simultaneously, Thing One says, "A-s-s? What does a-s-s spell...ASS!!...What's ass?" We immediately explain that it's not a nice word to use and we don't want him to say it, but the damage has been done, because Thing Two is jumping up and down in his chair squealing "Ass! Ass!" I had to hide behind the refrigerator door while I stifled laughs. My life is a sitcom.

Life sucks sometimes. I'm not going to sit here and wail and question why, because I know why there are trials in life. Results of sin, opportunities to grow in faith, God working to show me His power in my life. Yeah, I get all that. What frustrates me so is my response to it, I guess. There is one area in my life that I just can't seem to master. It's a lingering problem, an issue I have fought against and "suffered under" for as long as I can remember. I don't understand how I can be faced with seemingly bigger heartaches and trials and be unwavering in my faith, but I can't seem to stand up under the weight of this one. Do you have something like that? An area in your life where there is constant struggle in your heart? Where you have trouble seeing any good resulting from it? Where there aren't any workable solutions, so you find yourself constantly on pins and needles about how bad things are gonna get? Where it's hard to say "Let go an...

I'm yearning for change where this house is concerned. That's not a new thing for me. I regularly daydream about moving out of this little house to a place with a bit more breathing room (and by that I mean closets). I long to have a covered patio or a porch with a swing. A lovely (first floor) laundry room that doesn't make me paranoid about spiders. A garage would be wonderful. A room specifically for homeschooling. But, throughout all the daydreaming, my rational side reminds me of the harsh truth. Due to finances, we ain't goin' nowhere. At least not for a few more years. So if I can't remove us from the house, I've got to reform it. We definitely have a clutter/storage problem. I honestly don't think we have more stuff than other people. But we do have MUCH less space to store stuff. So, my only solution is to simplify. Get rid of stuff and find sensible ways to store things like off season clothes and homeschool records, not to mention ways of deal...