Shamrockin'

 I am, for a short time, NOT Andy's "old lady". For a little over two months every spring we are the same age.
 On Saturday my Leprechaun had his birthday and officially joined me at (gasp) 32.

 During our ten years of marriage he has been gone, for one reason or another, 6 times on his birthday. There was a rumor of him leaving on his birthday this year (just for a training exercise)... so last Sunday we went out to eat - sort of an early birthday. You remember how that day ended.

 Thankfully, he was HOME for his actual birthday this year. So we partied.

 Shamrock trays that have been around since Andy's childhood. Thanks Ellen! 

 A very green room. 

The boys had a blast, hanging streamers and shamrocks throughout the entire house. 

 We had a multitude of muscle men, ready to show off - 

See?

That Shamrock hat has been around since Andy was in highschool.

 A glow in the dark, laser shamrock...

 fascinating...

I think I like it!!!

Yep!

Since I have been vehicle-less this week, my ability to search for tiramisu has been thwarted. When I mentioned my frustration about that early Sat morning "Oscar the Grouch" immediately volunteered to make a run in search of Andy's favorite dessert. 

Unfortunately, there wasn't one to be found in a 20 mile radius. So at the last ditch stop at Walmart, the three year old got to point to what she thought "looked the most like Tiramisu". It seems that Chocolate Brownie Icecream cake won. 

 No complaints here! 

Yum, Yum! 

I even got a picture of the birthday boy, almost smiling for the camera. 

I call that a successful day! 

Blessings, 

Sounds

 I think that at some point in time every mother has had a moment when hearing their children crying is the most beautiful sound in the world. Because it means that they are breathing.

 And at that exact moment their breathing is the most important priority in your life.

 When they are born, and they take that first gulp of air. When they fall from the top of the playground, knocking themselves silly. When they wreck their bike and you can't even see where they landed.

 Broken bones, blood gushing, those thoughts start creeping in second later.

 But breathing is a first priority, and when it proves itself immediately, you can breath also.

 So crying is the most beautiful sound in the world.

 I had a moment like that this weekend.

 Truly, at first you can't hear anything. Then the first little peep of fear that only a six year old can produce pops up from the backseat, answered immediately by his big brother, and it's just enough to bring you back to reality. To let you know that they were alive.

 Then sounds start coming from every direction.

 Your very angry (at himself) husband telling them to get out (just in case) means he is okay - and as you hear their doors open and their feet follow, you know that they can move.

 That's when you realize - your door won't open, and you're not sure you could get out even if it did. The airbags make that terrible squealing sound as they finish deflating. And the miscellaneous parts of the car that use to make it move, now growl. Steam rises all around with an almost beautiful sound of it's own.

 Then metal scrapes and complains as that 6'1" tower of muscle who loves you makes it obey, refusing to leave you in your seat, or make you climb over another seat with a busted knee. The door opens enough to slip through, the knee works enough to get to the grass and (of course) you sit down directly in an ant pile.

 And the sounds continue. Firetruck. Police car. Ambulance.

 Slightly amusing really. After the ant hill fiasco, I limped my way over to the back of the Tahoe and managed to sit on the back of it. When the first responders, the Firemen, got there they had an icepack for my knee. But I was bleeding from my thumb. Just a tiny little cut, but because it had been bleeding for several minutes it had pooled up. My children were very concerned. The firemen didn't actually have bandaids. Something to pack in a gaping wound? Got you covered. A tiny cut on your thumb... not so much. However, I am a mom. With a fully stocked (although fully wrecked) SUV. So I looked around and luckily my emergency bag hadn't gotten thrown too far. Alcohol wipe? check. Bandaid? check. Neosporin cream? check. Help from a friendly fire man to wrap my thumb in a self provided bandaid? check. Children who were very much calmed now that mommy wasn't bleeding any more? Check check!

 Care to see some pictures?

 The tow truck, loading it up. 

 I think this is the one looks the worst.

 Driver's side wasn't so bad..

And truthfully, the back has hardly any damage at all. 

 My babies were protected.

Buckled up, in the booster seats - even at 8 and 6. 

 A small pile of left-over pieces.

 And that- that is what we hit. (coming from the opposite direction, obviously, since the passenger side is what hit)
 20 mph. Not texting. Not changing the radio station. His hand simply slipped on the wheel at the exact wrong minute. Not a chance to brake, nothing. Cement doesn't give...

 We had cleaned the Tahoe out fairly that afternoon, waiting through all the details of firetruck, ambulance, police report and towtruck. Actually, let me say that properly. Andy and the boys, and then later when she came to rescue us, my friend Kirsten, cleaned most of it out Sunday afternoon. Books, DVD player, umbrellas, picnic blanket, emergency first-aid kit, toothbrush, sewing kit, safety pins, diabetic supplies, etc etc. I simply sat on the back, held an icepack on my knee and said things like "did you remember to check the pocket in the side of the door" and "did you get all of the quarters from the console". Luckily, I carry grocery bags with me too, or we would have had some trouble containing it all!
 On Monday after I talked to the insurance agent they told me I needed to make sure I got everything out of it, because they would be towing it to their storage facility several hours away. So Kirsten, once again, saved the day and drove me out to the temporary storage place.
 And I got my first real look at it.

 I simply stood there and sobbed, for just a second. 

 I'm not exactly sure why. 

 Thankfullness that we are all okay? Sorrow for my car, which I have loved? Purely and simply overwhelmed? 

 Earlier I had heard the sound of my children crying. My husband yelling. The metal creaking, airbags squealing, steam whistling, sirens wailing. Voices all around asking questions - and my voice answering them. 

 God and I had even had a beautiful moment of comfort, where I got to hear His voice reminding me of His care. 

But I hadn't really seen it yet. 

Now with sight, the sound that was needed that moment was very quiet. Without interruption. And with a touch of finality. 

I removed the license plate, military tags and even managed to scrape off the trinity sticker Andy made for my car. It is not re-usable, but I couldn't stand the thought of it rotting in a junk-yard. 

And we are about 98% sure that the Tahoe is not coming back. Sigh.

Time for something with better gas milage?

X-rays show no broken bones in the knee. Lots of swelling means just keep ice on it and enjoy the black and blue. So we rejoice in our many many blessings. 

Rejoice in yours too!  

Split second

 Andy leaves early in the mornings. Early. At least for me.
 As he was leaving a few days ago, around 5:40, I got up to use the bathroom. In the dark that still haunts that time of the morning I tripped over the cord of the space heater.
 Now, I love the fact that we have a space heater. Getting out of the shower without it in the winter is slightly torturous. But at 5:40 in the morning, barely awake enough to walk, the cord was a safety hazard just waiting to happen. As I stumbled I imagined my chin hitting the tile, the mess that would make when blood gushed everywhere, the inconvenience of waking the children to go get stitches.
 And then my hands caught the counter, my hip hit the heater, and all was good.
 But all of these thought had already run through my head in the split second it took for me to catch myself.
 And the next thought I had was, "Thank goodness for modern technology." Amazing how the mind works, isn't it? Yes, it was modern technology that almost made me fall - but it would have been a cell phone that made Andy return two minutes after he left.
 12 years ago when we first started dating I had a cell phone. But it was for "emergencies" only. I almost never used it and was slightly scared of it. Then, not even three years after we met we were stationed in CA and the cell phone, with unlimited nights and weekends, free long distance, and a friends and family list was my link to home. I nearly wore it out.
 Each time he has been deployed I never knew when he would call. So I have carried my phone with me everywhere I have gone. To Doctor's appointments, giving him updates about our baby growing inside. To Florida, for the first time our son saw the ocean. To the bathroom, just in case. And every night, plugged in close enough that it would reach my bed. Sleeping with the telephone is not just a song - it is a reality.

 These newest cell phones are more then just phones. They are address books, calendars, entertainment centers while waiting in the doctor's office, even a portable book when I forget to grab my kindle on the way out the door.
 It contains my entire life, all in one small rectangle. And it is very easy to get completely lost in. Belonging to myself only.
 Scary.

 After my split second wave of thoughts, then my moment of thankfulness, (both for not falling, and knowing that Andy had a cell phone, if I had fallen) my last hour of sleep was filled with unsettling dreams. In them people were looking for things and were unable to find them. No matter how hard they searched, they couldn't figure out how to get to what they needed.

 In my dream, I had what they were looking for, and no matter how hard I looked for them, I couldn't find the searchers. I knew they needed me, and what I had, but I could't figure out how to get to them. We were all searching, and none of us could find each other.

 How does all of this connect to cell phones? I'm not really sure.

 I think it comes back to the "entire life, all in one small rectangle". As people it seems we spend less and less time face to face. Technology allows us to send information at lightning speed. To text and E-mail and Facebook all at a moment's notice. But are we forgetting to notice the people right next to us?  

 This afternoon Brandon Heath's "Give me Your eyes" played on my Pandora station.

 "Give me Your eyes" is about choosing to see people in need - in need of love, in need of cheer, the "broken hearted" is how he puts it - through God's eyes. Which means we love them unconditionally and try not to miss anyone.

 I am going to do my best in my little neighborhood right here. But at the same time...

 I'm not much use in the "real world" right now. Because of my uncooperative body I don't do much driving, thus I have met very few people. My ability to go to events is pretty small. But I am going to do my best to use His eyes to see the broken hearted in the little - or rather, HUGE - world of technology.  To move beyond the world of people contained in my address book, "all in one small rectangle." Just like I was thankful for my phone that morning, I will be thankful for the world wide web. Hopefully, the searchers and I can find each other.

 Please, feel free to let me know how I can show you His love. I don't want you to be searching, unable to find when I have exactly what you need.

 This has been a rambling post, but I mean what I say. If you need me - to pray, to encourage, to help work through a problem keeping God in the middle - my E-mail is always open. Always.

 Blessings, 

Passions

 I was whiney recently: Andy goes on and on about his new project car and every single piece of history it contains. My boys can talk for HOURS about Legos or Star Wars. My mom and sisters are very obsessed with a wedding right now. I get pictures of babies on my phone almost daily.

 Everyone in my life has something in their life that they are passionate about.

 It made me wonder. If I could get someone to sit still (which I can't) and give me their attention (which they won't).... well, what would I talk about non-stop.

 I quit scrapbooking years ago. It was really my friend Nicole's passion, and I just sort of fell into it while I was with her. Without her, scrapbooking fell by the wayside.

 I stink at sewing. I can fix a hem or add a button, that really is about it.

 I have no artistic ability. Even my photo's are simply pictures of my children. I love my camera but I don't think I could spend hours talking about it.

 I haven't had access to a piano for a year, so establishing the habit of practice again is a slow process.

 I moved away from my work-out buddies, and from the gym I knew and liked, so I quit working out too.

 I sound pretty fickle, don't I?

 So I was whining to Andy about the fact that I have nothing to be obsessive about like they do. And with that eloquent whining I realized, words are my thing.

 Not always on here, but words are my thing. I have been devouring words, churning them around in my head, reprocessing and spitting them back out my entire life.

 That is a passion I have stood by.

 I like sharing my thoughts, and whatever I am learning from God at the moment, here in blogland. And when I don't get to write I think it shows in my emotional stability.

 But words in general, words are my passion. I don't have to write. But I need to read almost as much as I need oxygen. I read the signs on the road, simply because they are there. I read the scribbles on the back of public bathroom stalls, because they are words, and I am drawn to them like a magnet.

 I love to read everyone-

 Austen, Bronte, Clemons - all the way to my own grandfather, Don Sharp. (and someday I am going to work on publishing more of his words!)

 Classic fiction, Murder mystery, Zombies and Vampires, Historical Romance, Tear jerkers and Self-help.

 I love to read. Devour. Ingest. Absorb. I have from the day I learned that A says ahhh, and B says b.

 And when I hear words I like, words that mean something, I feel the need to write them down and keep them.

  Recently on the way into church Canaan was carrying my Bible for me. It slipped, fell, and the multitude of notes it contained were scattered everywhere. As I awkwardly gathered the random pieces of paper my first thought was that I hold on to entirely too much. But as I looked through them, trying to find places to make them fit, I was so glad to have them. There are notes from Bible Studies, Church Services and Small Group meetings for the last 15 years. The words that I had written because they touched my heart at different times... they still had meaning. Always will.

Truth never dies. Never changes. Never wavers.

 I love words.

 Passionately!

Blessings, 

Abstract art

Just a quick note...
When you look at this picture, what do you see?

 A piece of popcorn balancing on a carrot? 

A Bunny Rabbit in awe of the most amazing dinner ever? 

Proof that my family has some slightly wacky ideas of what is entertaining on a Sunday night?

Perhaps something else altogether? 

We all see the world differently. Good, bad, sunshine and rain- we all see it with different eyes. 

There is a lot to see in a bowl of popcorn 

Just some food (hehe) for thought.  

Blessings, 

Bike wrecks and Brake repair

The boys and I spent some time this morning taking apart Canaan's bike. After the big wreck he had last spring during our "Adventures in Missouri" his bike has never really worked right.

 Just this weekend I had helped Andy clean the garage and organize his tools, so the location of and difference between standard and metric tools was fairly fresh in my mind. Truly, I am not sure I really care about the difference. One uses fractions, one whole numbers. There is a slight difference in the shape of the part that attaches perhaps? I just knew that I had carefully put them in size order.

 So I knew where to look. And we proceeded with the surgery. We loosened. We shifted. We tightened. We found a part that had somehow escaped, so we loosened, shifted and tightened again.

 Amazingly, the horrible grinding was fixed. The "thunk, thunk" was gone. And the brakes still worked.

 After that wreck we knew that it was really important for Canaan to just get back on the bike. The longer he waited the harder it would be, and the scarier the ride would seem. The details of fixing the bike could wait. And when you are thinking literally about bikes and young children I think that is probably good advice.

 But I started talking to God about it.

 Or, I suppose more accurately, He started talking to me.

 How often do we have a bike wreck in our lives and then think it is necessary for us to jump back on the bike immediately? We are so afraid that we will never ride again. We fear failure, in it's many forms.
 And so even though the bike is squealing, or grinding, or has a terrible "thunk, thunk" we jump right back on.

 Our busted knee and scraped up elbow heal. We were wearing our helmet (of Salvation) so our head wasn't injured. We didn't break any bones. There were only a few bruises. Big deal.

 But that bike is still squealing.

 And God is saying, "Rest my child".

 Maybe we're not supposed to be riding that bike anymore.

 Or maybe that bike needs a complete overhaul.

 And maybe it is time to get off wheels all together and try walking.

 Just because we have healed, doesn't mean we are supposed to be doing the same thing we were doing before.

 Sometimes change is good.

 Sometimes sitting still for a moment is needed.

 Sometimes God just wants our attention and squeaky brakes and wobbly wheels seems the only way to get it.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28


 I'm not sure why I was supposed to write this. I'm not sure it even makes any sense with all the squeaky wheels and grinding brakes. I just know that Canaan's bike has a smooth ride now.

 All things are possible when we leave them in hands that are bigger then ours.

 I know who I trust!

 Blessings, 

I'm melting, I'm melting....

First, a quick update on the look of the blog. I have had problems with comments not working lately, so I have added Discus. I am still working out all the kinks, but hopefully it will solve the problems. The nice thing about it is that you can reply to other's comments. Talk to each other, as well as to me. Please, communicate! But that's not what I got on here to say...


The weather has had so many ups and downs lately you never know what you are going to get. Beautiful one day. Pouring down rain the next. Short sleeves one afternoon then pulling out the extra blankets that same night.
 Totally unreliable.

 But on one of the not raining and not too cold nights recently we pulled out the fire pit and made a campfire.

 And proceeded with our torture....

 We had marshmallows left over from Christmas - poor, little gingerbread men marshmallows. 

 And goodness gracious with three "boys" sitting around a campfire, those poor little men didn't have a chance.

 Daisy watched in awe - or was it horror? 

 And their poor melted bodies turned chocolate and graham crackers into a delicious s'more. 

At least they could die knowing that they served a purpose. 

 Did anyone else grow up listening to Psalty the singing song book? "Sitting round the campfire as it blazes.... sing His praises". Even though I can't remember all of the words I hum it every time we have a fire!

Eventually Daisy's watchfulness paid off. We were down to plain white marshmallows by then, but one got dropped and she pounced. I'm not sure she knew what to do with it once she got it! "Why do you people eat these weird things?"

Hope you are enjoying the weird weather this winter too!

Blessings, 

Truth

If you notice, the "quote of the month" has been changed. Truth seemed a good theme this month. Although, truth is always a good theme. I have loved that Sherlock Holmes quote for years. I have actually had the Sherlock Holmes and Albert Einstein quote as well as Isaiah 45:19 written in lovely pink ink on a pretty flowery paper for years. It has survived multiple moves, two toddlers, and emotional turmoil beautifully.
 And still, truth remains.

 That is the beautiful thing about truth. It is absolute. Unchanging. Dependable.

 I have had a lot of change lately.

 I have struggled with some things that were not dependable.

 There are definitely some portions of my life that are not proving themselves to be absolute, or complete, or fulfilled. (Don't everyone start getting all freaked out - I have just had a ton of problems, after not really going to the doctor as I should have during all the moves, of getting my surplus of medical 'gifts' worked out)

 But I have some definite truths that I get to cling to.

 My Savior loves me.

 My amazing family loves me and need me.

 I am not allowed to give up or call it quits.

 Some of the new medicines I have been on had me thinking that calling it quits sounded like a good idea. Just giving up, laying down and begging God to never make me have to move again.

 Anti-seizure drugs have often made me "down". But nothing like this.

 However, Finding the silver lining in this situation:

 1) It wasn't every day, so I was able to come out the other side, without Andy even knowing. He was able to settle into his new job without trouble or distraction. The bad part of that is that he is quite frustrated with me, that I didn't tell him then.

 2) It made me able to say that I truly understand what depression feels like, so will be able to have true empathy with others.

 3) I feel better now! So much better that I appreciate so many little things. Even though the weather has been dreary and yucky I like seeing the clouds blow by in a hurry.

 Truth hurts sometimes. Truth, in all of it's gory details is hard to accept. And perhaps it is too much?

 But it remains truth.

 And I am so thankful for it.

 Blessings,  

Star Wars, Yellow Paint, and Love

 First, a story about Canaan, because he came up with a "witty" reply on his own, and he is so very proud. I can't remember if I ever wrote about his abysmal record with shoes. He went an entire week with two left shoes, no rights. For almost an entire day his third pair, which was the only one he had left, was down to only a left shoe also. He was going to be reduced to wearing rain boots just to go to the commissary. 

 He has a habit also, once the shoes are off, (and somehow separated and lost!) of removing one sock as well. Just one. I continually find him tromping around the house, and even the back yard, in one sock. I am sure you can imagine what that does in the laundry. 

 When we were at my parent's house last week my mom was fussing at him, and asked, "Canaan, where did you leave your other sock?" He responded, without pause, "I gave it to Dobby". 

 I guess I shouldn't have let him watch the second Harry Potter movie!

 He is now so proud of himself for thinking up a silly response that he had faithfully made sure to tell almost all of the family. I love age eight! 

Also while we were visiting my family last week Canaan and Zion could not find their Star Wars toys anywhere. They have a special stash they keep in the basement, just for visits there, and they were desperately needed.

 You see, when Mom and I were digging through the attic for decorative items to use at Mary Faith's shower we also discovered our old dollhouse. Beautiful, 3 story dollhouse, hand built, painted and shingled by my grandfather. We had bought furniture and dishes with our Christmas money through the years. Wallpapered and decorated. And yet, there it was, lonely in the attic, 10 years after the youngest child had outgrown it. (and that's pushing it, since Mary Faith is 24...)

So we pulled it out. We opened the boxes of furniture. The decorated Christmas tree with handmade Christmas gifts. The cross stitched blanket for the master bed.

 And my boys declared that their Star Wars men would fit perfectly in there. Canaan justified it nicely, saying in his best 8 year old tone, “It's okay for us to play with it, since it's yellow.”

 I guess if it had been pink it would not have been okay. But yellow passes the gender allowed test in 8 year old dollhouse playing. Especially if you are putting Star Wars characters in it, gleefully making them use the porcelain toilet.

But ...they could not find their Star Wars characters.

The hunt was on.

Who, who do you think was the one to find them?

Why, mommy of course.

When I discovered them buried underneath a stack of pillows I teasingly asked Zion, “Who's the best Mommy in the world?” He replied, “You (dramatic pause)... except for Nani.”

 For anyone who doesn't know, Nani is what he calls my Mom. And really, how could I argue with that statement. As much as I would like to be the best Mommy in the world, I certainly can't imagine taking that title away from my Mom! So I just ruffled his hair, gave him his Star Wars characters and sent him up to create the coolest yellow Star Wars meeting room ever. (complete with a replica of a foot pedal sewing machine.. but I digress)

 One of the devotionals I am reading this year is “The heart of a Mother”, compiled by Wayne Holmes. It has stories from famous Christian authors and speakers talking about their mothers, and how they affected their life.

There are some beautiful stories, encouraging ideas of how to lift up my children and teach them to love our Savior with their entire heart and soul and mind, and to love their neighbor more then they love themselves.

I was blessed with a mother who did that for me. Who taught me how to love from the moment I was born.

But there are so many who didn't have that. At least, not from their mother. And yet, that love is still there. That desire to give love, and to receive it in return. We have a job, a calling, not only to love our children and our husbands, our friends and our neighbors but also the people whom we have absolutely nothing in common with. The people we would argue with about politics, and how to raise children. The people that in our opinion are wasteful or miserly, too serious or too nonchalant.

Even the people that hurt other people.

We have love. 

They want love. 

God told us quite clearly to give love.

Matt 5:44 says, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you that you may be sons (and daughters) of your Father in heaven. He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and unrighteous.”

Not everyone grew up with the best mommy in the world (like I did) but everyone has a loving Daddy. They just need to be introduced.

That's our job.

Share His name.

Be His arms.

Shine His love. 

 Valentine's Day is quickly approaching. Love is in the air. While it is on your mind, remember to share not just human love, but God's love too!  

Blessings, 

Home sweet home

 That heading, that title up there... it can be taking two different ways.

 You see, I have been "home", with my parent's and sisters all this last week. Mary Faith, the baby, (and yes, at 24, she is still the "baby". I believe she always will be. She'll just have to deal with it!) Anyway... where was I going... Oh yes, Mary Faith is getting married at the end of March. There are details to prepare. Shopping to do. Parties to plan.
 This past week has been full! I LOVE this "home", and the people in it.

 But that other "home" is calling my name. Andy is my true home - I can't quite claim that North Carolina is calling me yet. I haven't gotten attached to the location yet. But Andy is there, and Andy is home. Home, Sweet Home.

 Can I be any cheesier?!? You may be thinking "gag".

 But I certainly miss that man!

 In other news... Andy has been making fun of me for saying "awesome" entirely too often. However, as I thought through the available vocabulary for expressions of excitement and approval, well, not many came to mind. "Cool". "Neato". Shall we return to the "Rockin" phase in time?

 So I think I shall create my own new expression. "XP" That is what I am going to start declaring when I am excited. It stands for "Exclamatory Proclamation". "EP" just doesn't sound cool though... so "XP" wins.

Announcer: "You just won a million dollars"!

Me: "XP"!!!!

 Can't you just hear it now?

 I was actually mulling it over (yes, I am that much of a dork) and was thinking that "XP" would make a perfect word of unhappiness too. Andy makes fun of my "fiddlesticks" too. Perhaps "Exclamatory Proclamation" would be a fitting answer to moments of disgust too. Hmmmm

 Something to consider.

 In the meantime, I need my sleep. I have to look my best tomorrow. I am off to see the man of my dreams!

Blessings, 

Light at the end of the tunnel?

 I had been very frustrated with myself since we lived here. Where was all the time going? The first few weeks I could blame it on unpacking. Then Andy took some time off and he always keeps me busy. We had Thanksgiving, then Christmas. Both 3rd grade and Kindergarten are slightly more time consuming when you put them together... but still, how in the world was it that I truly and honestly did not have any time. Until this weekend I had not read a single book since we lived here. My Bible and devotional greeted the morning, but beside that a few quick glances at BH & G, Parents, and Southern Living had been then sum of my word consumption. For TWO MONTHS! I had barely blogged, or even read the blogs of others. We don't have cable, I practically never get on FB and even the world's new addiction to pinterest has only touched me minimally.

 But then I remembered that we are in a new place - I have had to meet all new doctors, again. That was where all my time was going. Family doc to get all my referrals. Endocrinologist, twice already. Go get bloodwork done, more then once. Neurologist - all the way in Sanford. Then try to find the special building on post to schedule the MRI (because new doctors are never happy with the one taken 18 months ago by a different doctor. It has to be new). Fill out all that paperwork. (This time it wasn't by choice that I had to find the place either - it couldn't be done over the phone.) Schedule an EEG. Find a new dentist, then find out that both kids have cavities so have had to go back twice for fillings. I have lost entire days to doctor appts! Over and over!

No wonder I haven't had time to read or blog!

Well, that's not exactly true.

I could have given up sleeping.

Or teaching my children.

Or cleaning the house and cooking.

But I don't think any of those were good things to give up....

Now, here I am, with all the cavities filled, and the doctors met, and the major tests scheduled.

So I allowed myself a little free time the end of last week and over the weekend to read a novel. Just for fun. It was wonderful.

But, back to work I go. Today I have to figure out how to get my prescriptions transferred from MO to here. That 90 day supply is on it's last few days. Sigh. Off to the post pharmacy we go! I swear, but I sometimes think that just staying alive is a full time job!

 Eventually I will have a normal schedule again, right?

 Until then, enjoy your normal, or not so normal, day my friends!

 Blessings, 

The colors of fall

The end of the year sort of escaped. Truly. It just disappeared. The three months between Missouri and now are slightly blurry. 

 I know a few things...

We went to the pumpkin patch.

We enjoyed the Thanksgiving celebration with Andy's side of the family first.

 This is our niece Britton. Aren't those the most delicious lips you have ever seen?

 I did an entire photo shoot with these three. I got a few decent shots, but this one, despite it's terrible lighting and silly faces, continues to be my favorite. 

 Zion however decided to be a model. Look at that pose! 

Of course you have football on Thanksgiving, but you can't forget the all important Thanksgiving wrestling match too! 3 against one, or course. (don't tell, but sometimes, just sometimes, the camera gets set down and certain other people join in... )

Next came Thanksgiving with the Binkley clan.

 I love this picture of my sisters, inspecting the photo shoot we had just attempted. It is really, really hard to take a good picture of 13 people, especially when 3 of them are age 8 and under. Since, obviously, I was taking this picture, my camera was not the one taking the family picture. I am so glad to have been removed from that pressure! However, that means I don't have the originals or easy access to posting them here. Bummer!

 Canaan was simply sitting there waiting, but he looked like such a poser. I couldn't resist a picture!

 Perhaps my favorite picture of Andy all year. 

He had wrapped his scarf around his head, just being goofy, waiting for the next "pose" for the family picture. But I love that look of mischief! 

 Aren't they beautiful? These are they amazing example I have had my whole life, showing me how to live my life for Christ- My parents. 

 Zion, once again, posing. 

 Canaan threatened that if he was forced to take another picture he was going to give himself bunny ears. Just because. 

 The "good" family picture is probably on FB somewhere. Or in the files of Snapfish. But it is late, and I am exhausted. And I have only caught up as far as Thanksgiving. 

Seriously, where did December go? 

I hope yours was full of joy. Worship. Fun.

 I'll post some pictures of mine soon! 

Blessings,