Hokey Pokey

Does anyone else do the hokey pokey dance every year that they renew their phone or internet?

I got to the point where I actually put "RENEW INTERNET" on my calendar or else I get charged penalties. This year I was on a roll! I called early.

So I call up AT&*T and begin to renew my internet when they tell me that their rate is going up from $25 to $30/month. This happens every year, folks. 

I tell the CSR on the phone that I'm not too groovy with the rate change. Besides, my term is up in two weeks; I could technically look elsewhere.

Out of the CLEAR BLUE she finds a promotion in which I can enjoy $20/month for 6 months and then $30/month for the next 6 months. 

If you do the math, it ends up being... you guessed it... $25/month. 

Every year, the AT&*T hokey pokey. Hilarious.

Decorating

I really enjoyed Renee's blog recently on decorating advice. I love to hear about how people make their house a home.

I've been in my new house for about a year now. Normally I really enjoy decorating and it comes naturally to me. I was surprised by how difficult this two-story family room has been to decorate.

I'm finally getting to the point where it's starting to "speak to me". May I share?

Here's some before photos of what the house looked like before we moved in. It's not terrible, but Dan and I wanted to make some changes.

Our living room before we moved into the house:

See how this wall above the fireplace looks bare?

Here's how I finally proceeded:
1. First, I determined what color I primarily wanted in my living room. Yellow. I love yellow. But to paint the whole space yellow would be TOO yellow. I let window treatments and objects provide the color.
2. I saw that in this large room that small picture frames looked cluttered (for my taste... don't be offended if you like them). This large room needs large pieces.
3. Dan and I put our TV in another room so the fireplace would be a good focal point.
4. The bay window wasn't looking as large and spacious as it could.
5. After much hemming and hawing, we decided to paint the room a lighter cream color so that it wouldn't look so brown on brown. We wanted some more contrast. We also had the bookshelves painted a lovely color called Sag Harbor Grey. Now the objects on the bookshelf pop more.
6. The ceiling above the fireplace looked bare; we bought a large mirror.
7. Finally, I adopted a theme. I wanted the living room to have yellow highlights, a fresh "coastal" feel and have some pottery and textile textures. I call it "Texas Coastal" because it has such large (what I consider Texas-sized) objects, but it's primarily coastal.
8. Most importantly, my goal of decorating is to make my family and friends feel a sense of peace and belonging in my home. I never want anyone to feel small in my home. If they're dressed to the nines from a night out on the town or just swinging by from a jog in the park, I want them to feel at home just as they are.

Our family room After/ In Progress:

Since the yellow for the curtains was a focal point of the room, I did have to custom order the fabric. I try to save money where I can, but that was a good investment in my book.

I put large pottery and larger objects on the bookshelves. I also dotted the bookshelves with yellow objects here and there to give the room a yellow feel without being too "sunshiney". The black mirror above the fireplace really helps anchor the room.

We're not quite in the market for new furniture yet, so I added a few yellow blankets and pillows to the couches for color. I also added some textured grass pillows (which my hubby says are "ouchy") for, well, texture.

I was having a hard time coming up with family photos that didn't look too small and cluttered in this space. I bought a few of those frames where you put multiple 5x7" photos in them. But instead of putting many photos, I had posters made of our family and cropped them to fit. I feel a little funny having my photo so large in our family room, but I love to see my daughter and husband. The largeness works with our space.

Here is a yellow vase which I found at an antique store which I fell in love with. It gave me the courage to have more yellow in my living room. To the right is a glass vase I purchased and put shells and coastal themed things inside.

Swing, Baby!

Yesterday, my friend Andrea was visiting. It's great to catch up with her and her adventures in Antarctica and Australia. She's a world traveler and still has the bug to do more.

As we were small chatting in the kitchen, I heard Morgan yelling from outside: "Mom! I'm doing it! I'm pumping! I'm pumping!" I looked out the kitchen window to find my daughter swinging high and low on her playset. Wow. She finally got it.

For the past week or more, she's been watching her neighbor swing herself on playsets by pumping her feet. I've been drilling "feet out, feet in, feet out, feet in" into her head, but she didn't seem to get it.

But yesterday something aligned in the universe and caused her to want to do it all by herself. It might have been my preoccupation with our guest and my unavailability to be with her. It could have been her stubborn streak. But for whatever reason, she did it.

I watched her as she leaned back and let the wind catch her hair. She got the hang of it quickly. She went pretty high for a first-timer. I was immensely proud. We even had her call her Daddy at work to tell him the good news. She told him that she could swing all by herself now. But what I heard her say was, "Hi, Dad, I'm nearly completely independent. Can I have the car keys for tonight?"

The way I felt about this accomplishment of hers was similar to her first steps: I had been trying and encouraging her to take them for some time and then *wham* --she was a walker. And then I didn't want her to walk so much. I wanted her to cuddle with me and be immobile.

This morning my proud little daughter got dressed and, as I arrived in the kitchen, was donning a spring fleece so she could go outside and "practice". The buttons on her coat were not aligned correctly and the collar was half in/half out. But the earnest look on her face told me that I was not going to get in the way of progress. Out she went.

She took 2 steps outside, realized that the 80 degree day we had yesterday had melted into a 41 degree morning. She ran back inside and dressed in her winter garb and just as quickly went back outside. Her face was somewhat frozen, but nothing was going to stop her from her new trick.

Don't grow up too fast, baby girl.

Let Me Eat Cake, Part II

I got the book in the mail.

I went right to the Caramel Cake page.

In the name of my friend Andrea, who is visiting from world travels, I made the cake. She was my excuse to make it that day.

It was just as I remembered it. The soft candy frosting looks unpenetrable compared to everyday cakes. But then, just as the fork digs in, it splinters into big chunks of soft candy. Candy + Cake. Yummers.

I'll beat you to the punch and give you the recipe. Just this once:

Caramel Icing:
1 LB. bos of light brown sugar (about 2-2/3 cups)
1/2 cup butter (1 stick)
7 TB. evaporated milk
1 tsp. vanilla extract

Important: Have cake and layers ready before you make frosting!

In heavy saucepan, combine all ingredients. Bring to boil over medium heat. Stir well. Allow frosting to boil gently for 7 minutes. Remove from heat and cool for 5 minutes.

Beat icing with wooden spoon for 2-3 minutes until it thickens. You'll begin to see the pan at the bottom when you scrape the wooden spoon across it. Quickly spread icing over cake.

If icing becomes too hard, warm gently over low heat and add a spoonful or two of evap. milk. Dipping a knife into very hot water helps to spread it.

Isn't this genius?

Check out info on it at my friend GiBee's blog.

Rain, Rain, Come Again.

In case anyone in Chicagoland is wondering why it hasn't rained in a week even though they've been calling for it almost every day...

It's because I have contemplated getting my car washed.

But I haven't.

Because it was going to rain. 

If you need it to rain, send me $8 for a car wash and I'll be sure it happens. :)

Bedrest Advice

Hi, Friends-

I have a dear friend who is very important to me who is on bedrest. It is my sister, Noel.

She is 12 weeks with twins.

Can anyone recommend some good movies or books (that are NOT pregnancy related or too sad) that might be good for someone on bedrest? Any other suggestions? 

This is a difficult period in her life and I'd like her to find some peace in it.

Weekend Musings

It's 9am Monday morning. I don't know where the weekend went and I need another weekend just to equip me for this week. It feels enormous and I don't know why.

Before I proceed, let me say that I'm not complaining. A full life, a full weekend is a blessing.

And a full weekend is manifested by the little acts of living around my house:

- picking up the same towel off the guest bathroom sink that Morgan can't manage to put back on the rack

- putting Dan's DVDs in their cases

- picking up my clothes off the floor

- picking up random small boxes filled with marbles, coins and random other toys that Morgan filled and left around the house.

There's the more positive messes, too:

- the paint supplies in the corner left from the green accent wall Dan painted for me (thanks, babe!)

- the drill and other hardware supplies from the new towel rack we FINALLY got to hang in our bathroom.

We've been busy.

Meanwhile, in the busyness of life, I neglected to see that my daughter was growing and the weather was changing. She had one short sleeved shirt and some shorts from last year that barely fit over her growing frame. I suppress the guilt I feel for not being more organized and smile that the weather is so agreeable and that my daughter is healthy and growing. I laugh at the random ensemble she threw on this morning: a too-small long sleeve shirt, permanently stained, and some shorts that actually fit.

This is the life of a mother that I sometimes appreciate, sometimes despise. The mundanity of picking up that same towel every day in the bathroom is enough to drive me to insanity. But when my family has been gone in the past and that silly towel remained on the towel rack, I wasn't as happy as I thought. Lesson learned.

For all my life learnings, there is still this imp in my mind that tells me that if I just... if I just work a little harder, organize a little more, then I can breathe and smile and effortlessly host.

But last night, I'm proud to say, the little imp was proved wrong.

My friends the Tukkers called to say that they were biking past our house. Want to go to the park? We did. It was a beautiful evening. Then we decided to come back to our house where we threw a frozen pizza in the oven and cobbled together a feast for friends. It was relaxing and a great way to spend the end of a weekend.

This morning I woke up to a slightly messy house and I smiled. It's nice to do some living.

This week still proves to be large. I'll teeter on the brink of organization and flexibility throughout it. But I'll do my best to lay aside the unimportant in favor of getting dirty. In the name of living.

Spoiled

On the way to the fertility doctor the other day, I was struck by how afraid I was.

I thought of my own child and how I don't want her to be afraid. I want her to be glad and secure.

In fact, each year at Christmas, I tell myself that I won't overdo presents for her, but as the day approaches, I find myself picking up last minute gifts here and there. In the end, she always has a bit more gifts than she knows what to do with. I love to lavish her with goodness.

And so it was with this sentiment that I prayed the most unusual prayer I ever have to God:
"God, spoil me."

I felt a twinge of guilt for praying this. But again my thoughts went to my daughter who has a way of pleading in her eyes when she asks for frosting on her graham crackers or an occasional toy in the store that would make her day. I don't always comply, but when I do, it's with sheer happiness, watching her eyes grow in amazement.

"Spoiling" isn't really a biblical concept, I realize. The more staunch theologians will slap me on the hand for ignoring God's rich gift of life I experience every day. But when I read the Psalms, I see a poet who begs God to shine His face upon him. And what child doesn't melt when their parent grins at them?

I said my prayer again, this time with more resolve: "God, spoil me."

Card

Wow. What a friend. Compassionate. Creative. Very cool. Kudos to my friend Andrea for creating this handmade 3D card with encouraging words on it.

Andrea is looking for a position in event planning. Methinks that once she has the right job under her belt, she'll have people knocking down her door.

Remember me when you're rich and famous, A! I smile every time I look at this card!

Dress

This is a little dress I made for Morgan the past week or so. It kept me from thinking about my health and, by jove, turns out that the little bugger likes it. Bonus!

Self Grace

Ugh. I have chub. 

I'd like to say that most of me newfound weight is from the drugs. And it very well may be. But my total lack of exercise and seduction of all things salty and sweet have certainly done their part as well. 

During the most severe IVF drugs, my body changed daily. One day I could button my pants, the next day I couldn't, the next day I could again. My abdomen, responding to the daily shots of chemicals, was rising to the occasion. 

My "fat" jeans- the ones I wear for "that time of the month" are now my "skinny jeans". It's very humbling. And when I sit down in the car, I feel flesh where I didn't use to feel flesh. I feel like I'm wearing a 1 inch fat suit on my entire body. 

Before I even started this drug program, I had a feeling I would gain weight so I joined my local community gym for one month. I had a "go-getem" attitude and wanted to treat my body as kindly as possible. Ironically, my first trip to the gym not only did not make me more healthy, but rendered me lame. 

I went for my normal run on the treadmill, ignoring the fact that my body was already heavier and my gait was changed due to the shots in my abdomen. I sprained my knee badly. Through the course of that run, my knee was starting to complain, but I toughed it out. Also, there was a 17-something athlete next to me who was running at a 45 degree incline holding 30 pound weights. My pride got the better of me; I was not going to stop until I got several miles under my belt. (I know... aren't I proud?)

This morning, in a moment of weakness, it occurred to me that my husband had vowed many things on our wedding day, but not to love me in "skinny and chub". He laughed. I made him vow it on the spot. He saw that I was not laughing, so he humored me. "In skinny and in chub." 

Several weeks ago, it occurred to me that I needed to talk to my body. I had just gotten out of the shower and was eager to cover a multitude of sins (haha) but I stopped for a minute. What a marvelous piece of machinery the human body is: flexible, strong, smart and quick. I thanked God for the ability to walk and to move my arms freely. I marveled at how I have hair and stretchy skin. I even laughed at how my body "stores" before I get pregnant. My legs turn into columns, a veritable pantry for a growing fetus.

We're still getting tests done right now; the point of this post isn't whether or not we're pregnant. The point is that my body is responding to the highs and lows of life. In its marvelous sensitivity, it grows and shrinks with the demands placed upon it. And while I'm eager to demote my "skinny jeans" to "fat jeans" once again, I'm grateful for the health I do have. 

Grace to me. 

Movie Night

... was supposed to include a half pound of gummi worms for a fun snack.

But Morgan ate them.
All of them.
Right before dinner.

A writing lesson ensued.


*Still trying to decipher the last line she wrote which says "I am Sodmy." Crazy kid.

More More Morgan

Morgan: "Mom, look! There's a man with a dog!"

Emily: "What do you think the dog's name is?"

Morgan: "I don't know. Maybe Furry. Or Golando."

Golando? 

____________________

Morgan is learning how to use the words "always" and "never" lately. She always uses them wrongly and I will never let her hear the end of it. :)

Emily: "Morgan, eat your apples before your dessert."

Morgan: "I will never eat my apples."

Eventually she eats her apples. And her words. 

I try not to laugh. We hear something like this almost every day:

"I will never go to my room."

"I will never put my jammies on."

"I will always do what  I want."

*sigh* It's hard to keep from laughing while correcting her little 'tude. Man, I love this kid.

How I Know I've Been at the Fertility Doc Too Much

When Morgan sings "B-I-N-G-O"... 

except that that words SHE sings are:

"B-I-EMBRYO"

Loudly. 

In Target. 

For a half hour.

Me and My Morgan

Appeals for more graham crackers:

"Mom! I demand a graham cracker!"

"Mom! I accept a graham cracker!"

___________________

After setting the timer for 10 minutes, letting Morgan have a time out and then setting the timer for ANOTHER 10 minutes, Morgan still did not finish her task of putting away Legos. She decided to redecorate the living room with the gazillion pieces that we have (grrr) and so I decided to let her undecorate with them.

Finally, in a moment of frustration, I decided to do a challenge with her: I would clean up all the ones on the floor and she would clean up all the ones on the couch. "I'm going to win," I egged her. She started to work feverishly and then she stopped, "You're going to win, Mom! You're going to win!"

Ugh. My plan was backfiring. Parenthood.

Morgan Stories

Story, Morgan Style:

"Once there was a little turtle named Ronald. He heard the beautiful voice of a girl and he thought, 'I think I should marry that girl.'

Then the girl decided to marry him, but she had to feed her dog first. So she fed her dog. Then they got married and the boy lived with her. (The turtle turned into a boy apparently.)

And she showed him his new room. It was blue and green because he loved blue and green. And then she invited him to come down for dinner. The End."

_________________________

Morgan loves Sesame Street. Anyone vaguely familiar with the show will recall that every show ends with: "Today's show was brought to you by the letter L and the number 4." They alternate the letters and numbers for every show.

Today Morgan chose the letters "U" and "S" to be our "letters of the day". I'm supposed to carry around this little magnetic block with the "S" and she is currently napping with the letter "U" firmly in her clasp.

Before she went to bed, we had to have our blocks "kiss". (We like affection around our house. )

I said, "Goodnight, 'U'. I love 'U'."

I laughed at the obvious double meaning.

She responded, "I love you, 'S'."

When we put our letters together, they spelled "US". I love "US" too, Morgan. Crazy kid.

Believe it, Chuck!

I Can't Believe...

1. It's been one year since we put an offer on this house.

2. That we both sold our house and bought another house on the heals of coming back from town. (We hadn't been in Chicago 2 hours from a week's vacation when our realtor called to say our house had sold. And then, we came back from Easter in Charlotte and went straight from the airport to see our current house. We put an offer on it that night, just as another offer was coming in. Whew!)

3. I've only gotten the living room pretty much decorated. Why did I think I would have the whole place standing tall and mostly how I wanted it by now?

4. We've still got boxes downstairs that could stand to be unpacked.

5. We have a (hallelujah chorus) guest room. Now my dear mother-in-law won't hurt her back on our pull-out couch. (Sorry, Mom!)

6. We now have a minivan. I feel thoroughly "Mommy".

7. That our realtor wanted to work with us twice; I'm psycho in the home-buying/selling process. She's pretty patient!

8. That we put an offer on a house and Dan hadn't even received an offer from Google at that point. (What were we thinking?)

9. How good it felt to sell our first little house to a young couple who would love it well.

10. That Morgan finally potty trained after the craziness of the move. Sayonara, rivers of life.

Let Me Eat Cake

Today I did something that I thought I wouldn't do. I bought this cookbook. I saw it in Williams Sonoma and flipped through it.  I don't know what caused me to even pick up this book. 

Oh wait, yes I do. I love cake. Cake, cake, cake. Soft, moist, fresh cake. 

However, even my love of cake would not induce me to purchase another cookbook. I'm trying to use the ones I have.

Unfortunately for me, this cookbook had a recipe for Caramel Cake. Ugh. I'm toast. Caramel Cake takes me back to my great-grandmother's house about 20 years ago. She made this amazing, better-than-sextuplets Caramel frosting. When you cut into the cake, the frosting would crack all over the top into big chunks of soft candy. 

I tried to reproduce this recipe from one that my mother gave me years ago. I think I gave up after 6 tries. The recipe involves a candy thermometer and lighting-quick frosting methods. I was pretty persistent, but after one batch which took about 2 days of soaking to come loose from my pan, I figured that I would just have to enjoy this recipe a la memories.

I came back from Williams Sonoma today still thinking about the book. So I went on Amazon and read the reviews. Everyone raved. And then, I read someone who raved specifically about the caramel cake. For the love of great-grandma, I bit the bullet. 

My husband will be glad to know that I did save a bit of dough by buying it on abe.com. (Also, Dan, if you promise not to make fun of me for adding to my collection of cookbooks, I will bribe you with Brew Shop dollars. Deal?)

My book should come in in about a week. Betcha I know what we're having for dessert.

You know, I'd love to hear what family recipes my bloggy friends enjoyed growing up. Anyone game for sharing?

Heart of a Momma

Tonight, before bed, Morgan had a bit of a tantrum. It was sad because we had had such a lovely day. I know she was probably tired.

During her 4 minute time out on her bed, she decided to take her water bottle and spray it all over her carpet. 

Ugh. Breathe, Emily, breathe.

I tried to think quickly on my feet: "Oh, how sad, Morgan. You sprayed your water bottle all over your carpet. We were going to have stories tonight, but now we can't because we have to clean up this mess. We won't have time for stories." 

She cleaned up her mess. I tucked her in bed and explained why we'd be having no stories tonight. She started to cry. I almost did, too. I honestly wanted to read her stories and snuggle with her. She wept and I held her, feeling just as badly that she baptized her floor as she did. 

I think this is how God feels when we disobey. 

Before I shut the door, Morgan offered, "Maybe tomorrow night I won't squirt water on the floor and we can read stories."

That would be great, Morgan. That would be great.

__________________________

Morgan: "Mom, when is Jesus coming back?"

Morgan just learned about the Ascension of Christ (after Easter) and His return. 

Emily: "Well, no one knows."

Morgan: "On a Tuesday?"

Emily: "No one knows, honey. The Bible doesn't say."

Morgan: "Maybe on a Thursday? We'll ask Daddy when he comes home."

Emily: "Okay, but Daddy won't know either. What would you do if you saw Jesus?"

Morgan: "I would give him a present that would help people fix things. And I'd show him my stuffed animals."

I grinned. This is the reason Jesus liked to hang out with the little kids.

Emily: "That's very nice. I'm sure he'd like that."

El Cheapo Home Makeovers

I love the Container Store. This marvelous store has a way of making my home irritations become joyous organization zones with a relatively small amount of cash. It's the organization Mecca.

1. Kitchen Cabinet with Tins
This cabinet has two doors which never quite close because of the mass of cooking pans and tins lurking inside. Whenever I have to open this cabinet, I sigh, mount up the courage to open it, end up pummeled with cooking paraphernalia and quickly close it. If I'm lucky, the doors will close on the first try.
Solution: For $5 each, Container Store has these marvelous little vertical racks. I can see all my tins and pans and I may actually enjoy opening the doors from now on.

2. Master Bath Mini Makeover
I'd love to redo my master bath cabinets, but for now, I gotta live with them. I'm constantly trying to find space on top of my sink for my products. Inevitably they fall into the sink when the cord of my hair dryer hits them in the morning. It's a regular morning irritation I can do without.
Solution: Voila! I bought this vertical wire rack intended for in/out bins in offices. It hides nicely between my sink and tub and is within easy reach of my hands. Best of all, it's out of reach of my dryer cord.

3. Morgan's Bath Mini Makeover
Morgan's bath is blue. There's nothing really wrong with it, but I wanted to add some spunky, simple design to make it a funner place to be. Yes, funner is a word.
Solution: Thanks to the HomeGoods store, I am now the proud owner of these darling polka dot towels. Our previous towels were fine, but we had a variety of colors ranging from navy blue to light yellow; wash day was a little complicated with so many loads. Now we have one set of color and they act as a little dash of fun as well. I LOVE polka dots.

Morganisms

Dan to Morgan:
"You're growing so big!
One day you'll go to elementary school and then junior high.
Then you'll go to high school and college.
Maybe you'll even go to graduate school.
What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Morgan: "A mommy."

I burst out laughing, but my heart was truly glad.

_____________________________

Dan was commenting on something that he didn't like. He used the word "hate" which we try not to use in front of Morgan.

Emily: "Dan, try not to say 'h-a-t-e' in front of her."

Morgan: "And try not to say 'hate' either."

Ten Thoughts

1. Why is it that children only want to play with toys that are put away, fixed, not theirs or new? Why don't they want to play with the messy ones all over their floor?

2. I wonder if we'll be in this house for the rest of our life... or just for a few years.

3. Are rabbits grossed out by raisins since it looks like their poo?

4. How in the name of matrimony did I end up with a husband who is so kind? I'm a pistol and he's such a gentle giant.

5. Was Dan really secretly glad when I shrunk his suit? He never seemed to like those suit pants anyway.

6. Do all kids wish they had a pony when they were four?

7. How did I end up with such awesome siblings? They are so encouraging and uplifting. Also, am I adopted? None of them look like me.

8. If I had unlimited funds, I would hire 4 surrogates and have babies 4 months in a row. Then I'd hire 4 nannies to watch them during the night while I got my beauty sleep.

9. If Jesus came over for dinner, I would definitely serve him my meatloaf.

10. If I could have one super power, I would be "Healer Girl" and take away everyone's hurts, burnt dinners and age spots.

I tag Beth, Sarah W., Andrea, Cari, Sheryl and Kris to give me your ten thoughts. Anyone can join! Let me know your link so I can view your ten thoughts!

How to Know When Your Husband Loves You

When you shrink your husband's only good suit.

And it's from Jos. A Bank.

And he doesn't yell.

Beautiful Days

Never too big for a hug.

Some flowers from our neighbor friend. Morgan loves them as a centerpiece.

Marmee and Morgan.

Princesses on parade.

Stickers from Mrs. Miller! Morgan was thrilled! Thanks, Mrs. Miller!

Letting God be God

This is a bit of a hard post for me to write. But I feel compelled to do it anyway.

I've observed something about myself during trials: My sin becomes even more evident.

This is odd to me. One should get a "get out of jail free" card during this period.

In the more rhythmic times of life, I can generally coast with a heartfelt, theological "grace is mine" sort of tamber.

But during the really difficult times of life, I see my true colors.

First, a caveat: Christians love to slam-fest themselves. It seems "righteous" I think. Just look at Paul in the Bible, calling himself "chief of sinners". Sorry, Paul, but that is wrong theology. Ain't no hierarchy of sinners in the Bible. (Paul strikes me as a bit of a drama king, but that's another topic altogether.)

My point is, I'm already pretty grounded right now. My nose is to the grindstone of basic theological principles: God is good, I'm a sinner sort of principles. And yet in the midst of this hole, I'm aware of very awful things about myself: I'm a pretty judgmental person. I feel entitled to a lot. Sometimes when I show grace, it's because it's the nice thing to do, not because I'm aware of the infinite hourly grace that causes me to be in God's gaze.

One of the most difficult things for me to let go of is control of others. Seriously. I'm one controlling person. I want to be in the midst of the yuck and yum of everyone's adventure. I want to be with them, pray for them and, in true maternal fashion, guide them. I'm an expert, you know. *wink*

So it's kind of hard for me to accept the lavish gifts that friends have brought to me. E-prayers. Gift baskets laden with magnificent muffins and cards. Towers of salty and sweet snacks. Creative gifts. Loving words. Post-it notes with fun sayings on them. Kindness. And lots of grace for when I fly off the handle and say mean things because my heart feels too raw to filter them. I am receiving gifts from people for whom I have thought mean or demeaning or judgmental things before. There is some real dirt there.

I don't like to be on the receiving end of grace. But there it is- Covering my judgmentalness and forcing the Pollyanna out of my skin. It appears that I'm in great need of it.

Today, I had a revelation when thinking about Job: I just now realized what Job's problem was: He needed to let God be God. Job lived righteously before God and had a close walk with God. But in the end, God wanted Job to know, "Sure, we're close. We're family. We're even friends. But I'm God and you have to let me be God. I make the final decisions."

God's message to me is similar: "Emily, I'm God. I'm your Father. I'm your friend. But in the end, I'm God. I'm the Creator and not the created. I call the shots and though you think you should have a say in it, it's really my decision. Try to let go of your fears and definitely ditch that entitlement attitude. I got it covered. Oh- and one more thing- I love you."

Thomas the T*rain

I asked my sister in Charlotte if I could talk to her son, 3-year old Britt. He doesn't like to talk much on the phone, but I told her to tell him that I had a Tho*mas the T*ank Engine question. He's crazy about Thomas. The trick worked. He got on the phone:

Emily: "Hi, Britt! This is Aunt Emily. How are you?"

Awkward pause.

Britt: "You have a Thomas question?"

Emily: "Yes I do. If I was coloring a Thomas picture, would I color him yellow or purple?''

Britt: (Eagerly answers question) "Um, Thomas is blue. He has a blue body."

Emily: "Oh great. Thanks. And if I color his face, should it be yellow?"

Britt: "Thomas has a white face. You have to make it white."

Emily: "Thanks, Britt (desperately trying to think of another question to keep him on the phone.) And which train is your favorite?"

Britt: "Thomas."

Emily: "Okay, and which train has a grumpy face?"

Britt: "Gordon has a grumpy face," he said authoritatively.

Emily: "Okay, great. Well, thank you very much. I miss you very much and I love you."

Pause.

Britt: "Okay."

Pause.

Britt: "Bye."

And with that, he hung up the phone. I love that bugger.

Smile

A little something to brighten your day. The second video is on the slightly naughty side.

Book Review

This book review was part of an inspirational challenge by Sarah. She gave 30 of her commenters this book with the understanding that we would write a review on it. It was a pleasure.

Shauna's "Cold Tangerines" is a modern-day book of
Psalms which celebrates God in the everyday details of
life. In a world that often turns to cynicism to deal
with hurts and scars, Shauna embraces redemption,
collects champagne glasses, and causes one to see
God's love in something as miniscule as a penny.

She takes the Word and makes it flesh. May we all be
so inclined.