Growing Up Girl

I have to admit, I may complain about having girls, a little too much. I worry frantically about how it will be when they have the "teen" at the end of their age. It's really not that bad. They have the sweetest demeanor. No one can argue that. It's a fact. I'm not just saying that because I'm their mother. It's true.

I still want to play dress up, but one is at the age that she doesn't want to play that game anymore. She actually has opinions on the clothes she wears. My youngest is a little flashy and she lets me pick out some "fun" stuff. The "baby" would change clothes 5 times a day if I let her.

One thing I love to do with them, and we even drag daddy along, is go to see the "G" rated movies. They actually make movies that I can let them watch and my husband and I just love to watch over again.

We recently saw "Ramona and Beezus". Fun, fun movie! Ramona is the middle child of three girls. She lives with both parents and life is good. Ramona has the best intentions, but in a lot of cases chaos insues. All of the characters in the movie were portrayed in a mostly positive light. One thing that I loved about the movie was the relationship between Ramona and her Aunt Bea.

I guess I liked it so much because I have that type of relationship with one of my aunts. I'm not saying that it's always "peachy". I am the daughter she never had. I love her like my mother. When things aren't "right" with my relationship with my mom, my aunt is a great sounding board. She's always been that way for me. She always will be until she is called Home.

I'm hoping that my girls will have another older woman in their life that they can rely on when they don't feel that they can come to me. Whether it's a cousin, family friend or aunt, I hope they have that camaraderie they can trust and rely on. I can't force it, it just comes naturally.

This is my prayer. One of many!

Good For You!

Let me make this crystal clear---I love my kids. No.Doubt.About.It.

We do have our moments, but then again, don't we all? Sometimes there is a fine line of knowing when to laugh at them and knowing when to correct. We were sitting in a fast food restaurant and my wonderful husband had to take a break in the little boys room. As he was coming back he mentioned, "I can you hear you people all the way in the restroom".

I never would have guessed what was about to come out of my youngest daughters mouth. It was on the cusp of funny and rude all at the same time. She said, "Good for you!". This coming from a little girl who always fixes her hair with every outfit change in the dressing room of a children's clothing store. The one who, for the most part, says "Please" and "Thank You" at every turn.

She's growing up. We are learning we have to maintain a good balance between what is okay to say and what we should keep to ourselves.

Oh boy!

Three reasons why the individual insurance mandate is unconstitutional

The Cato Institute has three well-reasoned arguments for why the individual mandate for health-care insurance is not constitutional.

I Spy Something White

Who doesn't love children? I mean REALLY?!?!?!

We were in one of our favorite buffet style restaurants on a Wednesday evening before church. Keep in mind that this type of buffet style restaurant is visited mostly by people of an older generation. Much. Older. Most times the kids get done before the grown ups. I enjoy chewing every bite. The kids haven't gained that appreciation yet.

To kill time the kids like to play "I Spy". The youngest of my two kids said, "I spy something white". We were guessing everything from the napkins, to our shoelaces. We had guessed everything we could think of before giving up. My youngest said, "I'll give you a hint". In a not so quiet voice she exclaimed,"It's on that really old lady over there". At that moment we were hoping that "really old" lady's hearing wasn't so sharp, or that her hearing aid battery had suddenly failed. She never looked our direction, thank God!

It turned out that the white was the "really old" lady's hair!

Love & Hate

I have a love/hate relationship with my periodontist. I know hate is a strong word, but it's the first thing that comes to me when I think of how I feel when I'm in her chair. I like her a lot when I'm not in her chair. She seems like a great lady. I hate the pain she causes me on a continuous basis.

A couple of weeks ago I had surgery on my gums. Apparently I had too much. This seems quite ironic after a lifetime of dentists telling me I was actually brushing too hard and making them recede. Go figure. I had my follow up appointment to make sure everything was healing just a couple of days ago.

I get in the chair. I'm going so far down that my feet are above my head, I'm sure. She comes at me with the bright light that could rival the sun and this 22nd century looking caterpillar on a stick. I'm supposed to brush that thing between my teeth on a daily basis for the rest of my life. Here we go. I have a mirror in hand, bright light and the caterpillar on a stick. BAM! She hits a spot that has been very sensitive since my surgery. I wanted to take that mirror and bash her in the head. Is it assault if she started it? It felt like a nerve was exposed. That's how bad it felt.

Feet above head, bright light, caterpillar and trying to hold a mirror at the same time. It's my turn now. She's telling me how I'm doing it wrong and how I need to position it to get it between my teeth right. Did I mention I was also trying to do this and maneuver my cheek, that happens to be a little in the way, but good gosh, I need that cheek! It's not going anywhere. What the hell do you expect when I'm practically upside down?!?!??! Who brushes their teeth upside down?!?!?!?!?

Finally I'm aloud to get out of the chair. I'm in a bad mood. She's trying to make nice and ask about my husband who she is calling by the wrong name, AGAIN. She's also asking if I was named after Elvis' daughter. I hate that question. Yes. I. Was. But I spell my first name a lot cooler!

I have to go back in a month for a cleaning. If I ever have to go back after that, I may just boycott dentists all together.

How many times????

There is no telling how many times I have had to repeat myself since having children. I'm pretty sure I'm speaking in English, and the children's ears work just fine. At least they passed the last hearing test at their pediatricians office. It must be a selective thing.

Yesterday was no different. It seems that whenever it comes time to straighten up and put the toys away my speech is incoherent. I asked my littlest cherub, "How many times do I have to ask you to do this?". I was a little annoyed at this point.

Littlest cherub looked at me very seriously and said, "five".

Well alright. I guess that settles it.

I turned and laughed on the inside and went about my business.

Jesus Is The Boss of Me

My oldest child has a very easy job to help the family out. We ask her to take out the recycling every day. I'm no green junkie, but I recycle what is recyclable.

I hollared at my oldest, not in a mean way, but just asked her to take it out. For the second time today. My youngest chimed in, "You're not the boss". I asked my sweet youngest cherub, "Who is the boss?". She said "Jesus is the boss of me".

How can I compete with that? I laughed a little on the inside and asked for a third time for the recycling to be taken out.

God is good. He does have a sense of humor!

My Favorite Furniture Store

There is a furniture store I just LOVE.

It looks rich and old and very distinguished, yet the sales people are the nicest I've ever met. What's even better is that the prices don't bust the budget. They have a great little "Christian Book Nook" inside each store. It's fun to take the kids into the "Country Store" and pick out a soda that's still in a glass bottle and maybe an ounce or two of their favorite candy at the moment.

I had some alone time yesterday. I went into my favorite furniture store just to browse. I'm looking for the perfect leather coffee table. I found it. It's the most beautiful leather upholstery. It has at least 9 tufted buttons and the feet are very nice. There is nothing plain about this coffee table. But, it's not too terribly fancy either. It's just perfect. I decided to take the afternoon and think on it. I wanted to drag my husband in to take a look at it.

As we were driving to the furniture store I started wondering if the coffee table was so pretty that it would "over class" my dumb looking couch and love seat from a lower class furniture store. This couch and love seat have seen better days. We're tired enough of them, but it's not a priority to get a new one at this time. I'm just tired enough of the empty spot where there should be a coffee table to fill up.

Sure enough my husband thought the same thing. He liked the coffee table so much that he was enticed into the leather couch and love seat that went with the coffee table. The couch and love seat are not in the budget at this time.

So we head upstairs to the clearance section of the store. I had been there earlier in the day, so I knew there was another leather coffee table up there. It was less expensive, but not as nice. It was just a functional table to get us through til we can just refurnish the entire room. We pick it up on Monday.

Fathers Day

Can I just say, that I'm glad Fathers Day is over.

I don't mean any disrespect toward my husband. He's the best father I could have imagined for my daughters. He's caring, loving and very sensitive to their fragile beings. He is truly their "daddy" through and through. They love him with their entire being.

My daughters have the opposite of what I had.

I'm not sure that I would call my dad, "daddy" or "father". He's more than a sperm donor. I'm not sure how to address him when I speak of him with my mom. Am I insulting her in any way when I refer to him as my "dad" or "father"? Or should I just call him by his first name?

My dad broke my heart. He was a slave to alcohol. He had a bond with the bottle that my mom and I couldn't come between.

After having children of my own, I know the love that a parent has for a child and I can't come to terms with why I wasn't worth kicking the habit for. It's my "cross to bare" I guess.

For some reason this Fathers Day just seemed to bother me. Hopefully the feeling will go as soon as it comes next time.....

facebook & "friends"

In the recent past I had posted a status on my facebook page. I said that I was "torn between two churches".

There's one church, very close to home. It's pretty much the only "traditional" Baptist church in Plano. it sort of "won" by default on the traditional front. It has a great group of "blue hairs" that my husband and I love. We've been close with them for years. It seems harder though to connect with people our own age. It seems close to impossible to get "leadership" to agree on anything within the department and when asked for volunteers there is nothing but the sound of crickets....

Then, the second church is a little further away. The worship is amazing. It takes traditional to a whole new level. There's even a group of "blue hairs" there as well. We have somewhat of a connection with people there our age. I just have to come to grips with the drive.

A week after I made my post my husband had breakfast with another leader of our Sunday school group. The other person isn't even on facebook. So, I can assume that one of my facebook "friends" probably gossiped to the other guy, instead of just asking me about it. Don't you just love it? How high school! He said something to my husband with the implication that says, "You need to control your wife and what she says on facebook". Hhmm..

Let me make something crystal clear. My husband IS the head of our house. I have no quandry with that. But, we discuss everything, we have to come to the same consensus on most everything. We are a partnership, not a dictatorship.

What was wrong with what I said? That instance makes me a little less torn between two churches. But, I don't want to leave this church out of anger. I want to hear the voice of God telling me where he wants my family and I to worship.

Facebook is a lot like high school.

Church is a lot like high school.

They both can have this feeling of a false sense of intimacy that eventually you just have to laugh out loud about.

My family and I are visiting the church that's a little farther away for a while. I'm not sure how this will end up.

I've got 'friends' on facebook that I go to church with. The funny thing is that some of those 'friends' don't even say "boo" to me on Sundays. What gives with that? Why even bother?