Stay Buckled While Seated

I love, love, love to travel but...I'm not a huge fan of flying. I tolerate it as a means to an end, i.e., me -- in some new and exciting locale. I'm not deathly afraid of flying, but I get a little freaked when the plane does a lot of rocking and rolling in turbulent air. Almost always now I am traveling with my husband. When the plane lurches, he reaches over and holds my hand because he knows. He knows I don't like it one bit. He smiles, reassures me it's just some warm air, and acts like he's calm as a cucumber. I check to make sure my seat belt is fastened, I squeeze his hand and I pray.

I'm really not afraid of dying. I'm afraid of crashing. I can't think of a more terrifying death than falling out of the sky. (Please Lord - if you're listening....I don't want to die in a plane crash.) Logically, I know that turbulence is not likely to result in a crash, but it doesn't make me feel any better on a really bumpy flight.

This feeling I have about flying is somewhat ironic because years ago, when Hubby and I first met - I was working for Continental Airlines and I traveled a lot. Every week I was flying to Miami for work - and then on the weekends, I might fly somewhere else just for fun. My friends flew, my parents flew, my kids flew - we all flew...a lot. It was free. It was fun. But even then I didn't like bumpy flights.

Needless to say the recent report about the Continental Flight from Rio to Houston that hit the clear air turbulence was unsettling to me. It's one thing to be told by the pilot that the plane might encounter some bumpy air. But this kind of "clear air turbulence" comes out of nowhere. The air looks clear. No sign of trouble. This is the kind of turbulence that leaves people injured. And...this is why the Captain always says - "stay buckled up while seated just in case we should encounter unexpected turbulence." You know the drill.

For the most part, I do always stay buckled when seated. On rare occasions - usually trans-Atlantic flights, I have found my seat belt unfastened. Oops. Probably I unhooked in my sleep. Or...returned from the restroom and was distracted. The principle here is....sometimes we think we're buckled in but we're not.

Most problems in life can be seen on the horizon. That is..most of what we stress about - marital problems, financial problems, and even some health problems - have precursors. Hints. Something isn't quite right and we know it. We have the opportunity to buckle down, buckle up, or...whatever you do when you begin to anticipate a problem. Spiritually, you can take it to God before it gets out of hand. You can search scripture and you can begin to pray for God's intervention - and even if it gets to be a full-blown problem, you have.. sort of "buckled your seat belt" for the bumpy flight.

But what about those "clear air turbulence" problems that simply appear out of nowhere. You're just flying along with clear skies and BAM! If we wrongly assume we are buckled in - we might get injured.

Times of testing reveal whether our seat belt is fastened - it reveals what we REALLY believe. When the "clear air turbulence" hits, I hope we're buckled in good and tight.

On Being Content...

I'm not sure how all this fragmented information fits together into a cohesive message about being content, but somehow I feel that it does. You be the judge, I guess.

For the past month of so, I've been noticing this pink bird that hangs out in the retaining pond by my house. In ten years - I've never seen a bird like this. We live on a golf course and I suppose our proximity to the Gulf Coasts results in a high number of very interesting wildlife literally steps from my front door. There are ducks that refuse to get out of the way of the cars that come zooming down the street. The ducks just act annoyed and very slowly waddle out of the way when you honk at them. Turtles with shells 18 inches in diameter splash when I walk by and snowy white egrets and blue herrings are commonplace. Nutria that resemble huge beavers make rare appearances, but I see them. And...the squirrels. Lots and lots of squirrels. And the deer. It's like Wild Kingdom out there if you can stand the heat.

I have a friend how likes to run in the heat of the day. I don't know why I agree to join her - probably because it's easier to run in the heat with someone you can talk to than it is to run alone in the morning. Besides, I'd have to get up early. Anyway..it's usually when I'm out running or walking that I see the pink bird.

I'm not sure why but I'm obsessed with the pink bird. When I see it - I squeal with delight like a 2 year old that likes cows. My friends have begun to make fun of me now. The first time I saw it - I stopped and took off my sunglasses because I thought - hey - that bird looks pink. It was. It kind of looks like a flamingo, but it's not. It has a red stripe down the side and a spoon bill. It's really cool when it takes off in flight. It has a huge pink wingspan. It's glorious when it takes off and you can really get the full effect of its pinkness. (uh...you know what I mean.)

So - in describing the pink bird to my stepson who is an environmental animal loving kind of guy- he said .."oh...it's probably a Roseate Spoonbill" And...it is.
It's a Roseate Spoonbill. The pink bird has a name!

Why am I telling you all this? I don't know. I think because this pink bird gives me so much pleasure. The creativity of God in nature is right outside my front door!

God has revealed certain truths about Himself through nature or the created order.

“The heavens are telling of the glory of God; and their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.” Psalm 119:1-6

“For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse." Romans 1:18-21

Nature reveals that God exists and that He is powerful. This testimony is so powerful that no person can claim that he or she knows nothing about God.

And this...all outside my front door!! When I am prone to, on the one hand - self-pity, or....on the other extreme, when I am tempted with self-aggrandizement (I've been wanting to use that word...) - I remember who God is and who I am and that I was created for His pleasure - kind of like that pink bird. I remember that God delights in His creation. And for a brief moment, I am content with all that I have and all that I am.

Singing Scared

Don't laugh.

I sang a solo at church yesterday. Ok...it wasn't much of one - barely 10 measures, but still...my voice alone on a microphone. It's been years since I've sung alone with a microphone. I think the last solo I sang was probably about 25 years ago. When I was a young woman, I used to sing a lot of solos. I sang in ensembles and musicals. I was young and fearless.

Something happened in the last 25 years. I became.....terrified. I don't know why it scares me so. I think it's the fear that I really don't have a voice worthy of hearing by itself. It's fine in a group, but not good enough to listen to independently of others.

Interesting...I have no fear of getting up in front of a room full of people and talking, or teaching, or even trying a lawsuit....but singing? Now...that is terrifying. Except that it wasn't.

I guess it's kind of like riding a bike. When I was handed the mic - I just felt right something vaguely familiar wash over me. Some old recognizable feeling of my former self emerged and I was supernaturally calm. What happened? I think it was prayer and a Word from God, Himself.
Yes..Prayer. Lots of prayer to calm nerves, glorify God and enjoy the experience. And I did.

Psalm 63.... ⁷ Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings.

⁸ My soul clings to you;
your right hand upholds me.

That's some confidence right there when you think about singing in the shadow of the Father's wings...

And I did.

Cabo and My Life - Or the Lack Therof...

We're back from beautiful Cabo in Mexico.  I'm happy to report that everything appeared to be just the same.  No drug traffickers, no swine flu....just perfect weather, cloudless skies and LA prices and Mexicans that speak better English than I do...

I guess that's kind of my issue with Cabo.  It's really South Los Angeles and not the kind of Mexico that I find appealing.  On the other hand - you can eat everything with impunity because you are not going to get sick here unless you eat from the most remote of taco stands.  I ate a lot.  Really.  A lot.  

It was great to sleep in for a few days and read a book by the pool.  I've kind of forgotten what it's like to really relax.   However...with the advent of the cell phone - can anyone really ever get away?  And...it's not that anyone was bothering me.   I was more likely bothering them.    

Texts from Mom to Children:

"Where are you?"

"Who are you with?"

"What are you having to eat?"

"Don't forget to do this and that!"

"Don't forget to pick up this form from counselors' office!"

"Don't forget to wear blue to church on Sunday!"

They were in very good hands with Maricela, but I just can't help myself.   I want to micromanage - even from CABO!

They say the cell phone is the longest umbilical cord.  It's true.  My poor children are having a hard time with my latest life transition.  I am completely annoying them.  I really can't help myself.

The truth is that I'm going through a stage --the stage of their not needing me nearly enough and I'm uncomfortable with that because for the last 16 years I have been defined by their needing me.   And...it's basically over.  They could very well survive now on their own.  I guess I will have to get a life now.  I think I used to have one. Now ---- where did I leave it?  hmmm.....

Why Do I Avoid The Christian Bookstore?

Uh...This is an uncomfortable topic for me, but the local Christian bookstore creeps me out.   Occasionally, I'll go it to find a Christian Book and what's in there just astounds me.  Instead of Chesterton, C.S. Lewis, Packer and Augustine...there is every kind of trinket and gadget splashed with the cross or the fish.  Resurrection Eggs and Angel statues and other embarrassing Christian "gifts" that make me uncomfortable - like the Christian way to make tons of money, raise perfect kids, lose weight and the Christian way to decorate your home and ..well, you get the picture.  It's a big self-help bookstore with some pink and plaid Bibles thrown in for good measure.  A large majority of the books are "end times" related.  We Americans seem obsessed with speculating on how and when and who will be around at the Second Coming.  Don't get me wrong, there is room for prayer, thought and study about the "End Times" - but whip out your Bible and read it.  Why succumb to the hundreds of bizarre and contradictory theories that are just that....theories?  

Most of the other books are lacking doctrine, all devotion, no depth - cotton candy self-help crap.  (The smiling preacher gets tons of space, by the way, because he wants you to have your best life now.) 

Music?  There is LOTS of music in the Christian Bookstore - but you'll have to look for it behind the display of Christian toe rings and Veggie Tale necklaces.  

Hey There!

Hey there!

I can hardly believe that my last post was more than a month ago.  I promise I'm going to do better.   I know that all 5 of you that sometimes read this blog are really disappointed...and....I'm sorry.  It's not you...it's me.  I just needed some space. I thought maybe some distance might do us some good.  

When last we spoke, I was canceling our trip to Mexico for Spring Break.  In the end, we decided that Baby Girl and I would go to New York together for the week. NEW YORK CITY?  That's right.  Just the two of us.  We had a great time being big girls together.  Seeing shows, navigating the subway system and visiting friends - I hardly wanted our time together in the Big Apple to end.  Seriously.

We arrived on Wednesday and it was a whirl wind of adventure starting with a visit with our beloved and now Equity Card Holding Friend - Amber Ward.  

On Thursday, we headed downtown to the Financial District and worked our way up to China Town and Soho.  It rained. We were undeterred.  Later that day, we had dinner at Sardi's and  then the Coup D'Etat was Phantom of the Opera.  On Friday, we shopped Midtown, saw NBC, when I'm away - it's only a few days into the vacation when I realize that I really miss home, miss my man, miss my dogs - and although I may be having fun, I am really longing for what is not with me.  This trip was different in that I was never the least bit homesick until....Sunday.  

I guess the whole worship experience in NYC, although meaningful, was really what brought me back home to Sugar Land.  I missed my family, my church, my spot in the the choir.  Funny - huh?  What brought me back was worship.  Interesting.

We did have a wonderful chance, however, to visit our friend Seth at his church on Park Ave.  It is a beautiful, quite picturesque church built by Rockefeller.  It's the perfect wedding church.  Intimate, beautiful, reverent.  And..I hear they have a rockin' new music director.

Really, the best part was just spending every waking moment with Baby Girl.  She was fabulous.  She LOVES New York - the energy, the art, the challenge.   Here are some of my favorites photos of NYC thru her eyes.

The end.

Change of Plans, America!

Many of you have probably seen the news about what is going on in Mexico.  It's tragic. More than 6,000 people were killed in Mexico last year because of drug violence. This is staggering when you consider that there have been approximately 4500 Coalition deaths in Iraq since 2003.  Beheadings, grenades thrown into restaurants, attacks on police, kidnappings and shootings have become a daily occurrence.  Unfortunately, this is no longer limited to the border towns.  It's spreading, like a cancer, to the beautiful interior and resort areas. 

 

I fell in love with Mexico in college.  Not only the country, but the people.  I have traveled all over Mexico and I have never felt afraid - even in spite of the routine kidnappings and shoot-outs that have always occurred in Mexico.  Until now.  

My family was scheduled to go spend a week in beautiful Zihuatanejo.  Remember at the end of the movie Shawshank Redemption, when Tim Robbins leaves Morgan Freeman with a post card showing a beautiful beach. That beach is in Zihuatanejo - a place I've never been. So....in January, when I had really had my fill of cold (ok...colder) days, we made plans to take the kids to Zihua and stay in a beautiful 3 bedroom condo overlooking the bay.  One of the reasons I picked Zihua is because it is described as a "fishing village" - and I really don't like the Mega-Resort feel.  I prefer to mingle with the locals and speak Spanish.  I thought it would be great for my son to get to practice his Spanish.  Oh...and I'd get a tan in the process.

After hearing SO much about Mexico, I decided to do a little digging just to make sure there were no problems in Zihua.   What I discovered was that just 2 weeks ago, grenades were thrown in the police station - then the police went on strike.  (If you think we have economic woes - the police make about $350 a month!)  I think earlier that same week, police were ambushed on the main highway by men carrying AK-47s and...the same week, police reported finding the bound and bullet-ridden bodies of two men in a car in Zihuatanejo. 

The government has deployed the army in Zihua due to the strike and because they feel that the police cannot be trusted.  Not surprisingly, the drug cartels with their massive resources have been able to infiltrate the underpaid police.  There is corruption at every level and some believe that Mexico is destined to become a failed state.  

Needless to say... with great sadness, I cancelled our trip.  After communicating with the American Consulate there, I decided that it just wouldn't be relaxing.  I would be constantly looking over my shoulder.  Every taxi driver would be scrutinized as a would-be kidnapper.  Tourists are not targets, but these evil people don't care who gets in the way.  It's just a matter of time before an American is the wrong place at the wrong time. 

And...if you think this isn't your problem, think again. These thugs are already operating in every major U.S. city.  This violence is spilling across the border and is already being felt here in Houston.  Oh...and the demand for those drugs? Well...if we Americans didn't have an insatiable desire for their marijuana, cocaine and methamphetamines, they wouldn't be in business. Those AK-47's?  They got them here in the U.S., too.  Mexico's problem is our problem, Amigo.

I can't tell you how disgusted I was when watching the Academy Awards to see a skit about Pineapple Express - the latest big screen comedy that is all about smoking pot. Let Hollywood explain to the innocent Mexican people why we joke about this, while they are too scared to walk to the village tienda because of all the narco-violence.  

Last week, I ate dinner at church on Wednesday night at a table of teenagers.  One of them had, unbeknownst to his parents, illegally downloaded this movie to his Ipod.  As he laughed about it,  I tried to explain to him why his support of this kind of movie was wrong on so many levels, but I was met with uninterested eyes.

No Monkey Business

When I was little, I used to fantasize about having a pet chimpanzee. It would wear a diaper and real clothes and I could carry it around and teach it all kinds of human tricks that would impress neighbors and relatives. I think there was some TV show (other than Tarzan) that had a pet chimp. Of course, my parents would have never allowed a wild animal to live with us . I could never understand why they were so reluctant to have an exotic life. We would have been the hit of the neighborhood! I laughed the other day when my 13 year old said that when she grows up, she's going to have a monkey as a pet. I imagined her apartment (already messy) with chimp poop and chimp smell and chimp toys everywhere. I laughed.

Apparently, some people do grow up and have pet monkeys. Maybe they didn't listen to their mom and dad. I read this morning about a pet chimp that went bananas (yes...I am a clever wordsmith) and almost killed a woman, who remains in critical condition in Connecticut. This 15 year old chimp named Travis weighed about 200 pounds and was reportedly as strong as two men. He indicated to his owner that he wanted to go for a ride in the car and grabbed the keys and left. When she called a friend to help subdue him, he viciously attacked her and bit both her hands off. The owner finally had to stab he 15 year old chimp, but he managed to stay alive and tried to enter a police cruiser after tearing off the rear-view mirror. The police shot him twice, and he still was able to stagger home. They later found him dead in the apartment. They think Travis' recent bout with Lyme disease may have caused him to go berserk.

Uh...Mom and Dad were right. No pet monkeys, please.

Hey - How are you??

Good!  Thanks for asking.  It's been a while, hasn't it?  Well...Let's see. Here's a quick recap of the last week or so....

•  Everyone in my family has been taken his/her turn in the sick barrel.  Baby Girl currently is running a fever and has taken to the bed.  I'm sick of being sick.  The only possible silver lining is that I sound like Kathleen Turner  - and I could maybe make some extra money on the phone if I wanted to...(if you know what I mean...)

• Roger Federer lost to Rafa Nadal in the finals of the Australian Open and cried uncontrollably at the trophy presentation.  I was stunned - at the loss - AND the crying.  You had to see it to believe it.

• My tennis partner and I lost our first match of the season.  It wasn't pretty.  Since we've been together, we've only lost 3 matches.  I hate to lose, but we played this woman that was  - in a word... better.    Hmmm.

• I'm officially 43 since we last spoke.  It was a fabulous birthday.  Nothing fancy - just family and friends eating Mexican Food.  Beautiful - 70 degree weather, low humidity - Perfect!  

• I'm teaching the Ten Commandments at church and it's SO interesting.  Why is God's name supremely precious?  Because in the expressing of His name, He reveals His character and all that He is and all that He does.

• My soon-to-be 16 year old son is singing in the Adult Choir at church. I can't tell you how proud I am of him and how much it means to me that he is praising God with his voice.   We are learning some very challenging Easter Music.   

• Scooter - our middle doggie - tore his ACL and has to have surgery.  AND...there is an orthopedic veternarian surgeon that does this micro surgery on his tiny little knee.  It will cost an arm and a leg - but if we don't do it - he will get arthritis and be crippled.  I just can't do this to my 6 year old dog.  He's too cute.  He's the Scootie - Pootie.  So...I will be poor, but my dog will run and be happy.

• Husband shot below par today. He's still Da' MAN!   

Hope you're doing ok, too.

Is your blog a job?

I'm glad that I don't have to feed my family with this blog, because somedays... I just don't have anything to say.

Neti Pot

I sick. I no feel good. I Neti Pot. No relief.

Last week I went to the doctor, an ENT. She looked up into my sinuses and said she wasn't sure if I had a sinus infection, but to be on the safe side, she gave me antibiotics and a steroid nasal spray. I was better for a few days and then, I took a nose dive. (Nose - literally) I think what happened was that I caught my son's cold virus on the tail end of the antibiotics. So....I still can't breathe. I'm sooooo tired of the chronic sinusitis. How much fluid is there in one person's head??? So, today I plodded into Walgreens and resorted to the Neti Pot like Dwight Shrute. The only thing is...it came out my mouth and not the other nostril. I think this is because I'm so congested. It did feel better afterward. For about 20 seconds... Now, I'm drinking my hot tea and watching the Australian Open and hoping that this, too, shall pass.

God Bless the United States of America

It's been a fascinating week of U.S. History. I've been mesmorized by the Inauguration in all its Pomp and Circumstance. So ironic - that the inaguration of Barack H. Obama would fall on the heels of MLK day. I have to say - it was emotional for me. I cried watching it. The love and admiration that I have for my country and the happiness I felt for my fellow Americans of African descent was overwhelming. Since I've been born, black Americans have always had the same rights that I have. I use the word "rights" carefully. Certainly, I understand that those rights weren't always honored, but I'm really talking about the rights on the books, here. I went thru public school with black children. I went to college, law school and began practicing law at a prominent downtown Houston lawfirm with African-Americans. Not only were they were paid the same salary as I was, sometimes, they received promotions over and above those who were equally qualified with white skin, because it just looked better to have some African-American partners. Because I never witnessed a lot of blatant racism - shamefully, I guess I never realized how little those rights on the books mattered. The fact is...even in these days when Oprah reigns supreme, network news anchors and Supreme Court Justices are African Americans, and Colin Powell and Condi Rice have been Secretaries of State.....many many blacks didn't buy into the dream of Martin Luther King until yesterday. For them, I cry tears of happiness. Tears of true freedom. Finally. If the election of Obama does nothing else for our country - it has freed us from the slavery of our own emotions.

No, I didn't vote for Obama. We disagree on a lot of things. But, I have a deep admiration for him and I pray (and we should all pray) that he is able to unite us in a way and with wisdom that a white man never could.

So...enjoy this - and God Bless the United States of America.

Sure - I'll be your friend. Now...who are you, again?

I have a new friend. On Facebook - you know...the social networking site. Wait. I'm not really sure. I kind of remember her. Name sounds familiar. Oh yeah.....I remember her now. OK. Let's facebook it (ha ha...that was clever, no?) FB can be a little weird with all these names coming up from the past. I keep asking myself - was I nice to this person in High School. How come I can't remember her and she can remember me? Sometimes, I have to cheat and message a common "friend" to refresh my memory. Especially if they add a married last name to the one they had in High School. Once I'm "refreshed" I'm like...


OHHHH....YEAH......I remember that girl. Then, you can see what happened to that girl. What she looks like now. What about her husband, her kids, her politics, her faith - does she have a Bible Verse or some funky liberal hippie bumpersticker. A blog? Did she vote for Obama or McCain? A foodie? A greenie? Why do even care? but...I do. It's like permission to cyber-spy on people. The most interesting thing about observing the teens on FB is that they ask everyone - I mean EVERYONE - they've ever had any contact with to be their "friend". Often that includes me - the mom of their friend (or acquaintance, as the case may be.) I never request children as my friend. It's seems kinda creepy. But...if they request me, I'll be their friend. After a while - I guess they forget who all their friends are...then they post some really racy, stupid, teenager photos or some atrociously bad language. (If I see one more 13 year old taking a photo of themselves in the bathroom mirror with their IPhone and their tongue sticking out making the rock and roll sign - I'm gonna puke.) I wonder if they know their future employers may be looking at their Facebook page someday.

For someone like me - who really isn't very good about keeping in touch - the really awesome thing about FB, however, is keeping in touch (but not really having to personally interact) with those people you never should have lost touch with in the first place. Today...for example - I talked (via keyboard) to my cousin in Arkansas, a friend from high school, a college roommate AND....my high-school band director. WEIRD - huh?

Your New Healthy Eating Plan

So...you've already fallen off the wagon - eh? It's January 12th and you just can't keep the New Year's Resolutions. You're pathetic and flabby.

You're....

FAT!!!

Is this what you're telling yourself? STOP. Your head has more to do with your eating than your stomach. What??? You want SuperChurchlady to give you some healthy eating advice?? Ok...Since you asked (begged, really....) I'll give you the secret to jump-starting your year of healthy eating. My credentials?? Uh...let's just say that Oprah and I have a lot in common. Besides, everywhere you look these days - there's some advice on how you can lose weight. My advice is FREE. You don't even have to buy the magazine.

Ok. Ready?

1. No more self-defeating head language. You're awesome. You're strong. You're healthy. God gave you that incredible body shaped just like it is...(I think God must have been thinking about a lovely Anjou Pear when I was formed)...and it's miraculous. You love it. (Got it?)

2. No more mindless eating. No Pantry Loitering. Ya' hear me? Get outta there. Now. No chocolate chips out of the bag. No shoving your hand in the cereal boxes. For the next 7 days, you will write everything down that goes in your mouth. As the saying goes....."If you bite it - you write it." You'll be amazed at how often you eat without even realizing it.

3. Exercise is good. It's great. Especially if you're doing it for the right reasons, i.e., to maintain muscle and bone mass, increase your heart and lung capacity, etc., etc. However, if you're trying to lose weight - just realize that you can workout all day long, but if you're still hoovin' it down like a truckdriver, you're not going to get any smaller. One of my friends who was a personal trainer used to say that 80% of losing weight is what goes in your mouth. Incidentally, losing weight will make you want to work out more. (Oh...the irony!)

4. No sodas (even diet ones) for 7 days. Give it up. You can do it. Your body needs a break.

5. Most diets will work if you stick to it. Consistency is the key. Personally, I think any diet that makes you give up all bread, for example, is silly and not likely to last. You may lose weight, but who really wants to go through life never eating another pizza or biscuit or cinnamon roll. (ok....now forget about the cinnamon roll and the biscuit - focus!)

6. Wanna snack on something salty or crunchy? Go brush your teeth. Your mother's been meaning to tell you that they probably need a good brushing anyway. Or...chew some gum. Muscle thru it. Oh...You MUST eat something? Then see the patented SCL diet secrets below.

SCL patented diet secrets (just for you, my special readers...) -

• The Veggie Hot Dog. Consists of....Healthy-Choice Sugar Free Hot Dog Bun, Veggie Dog (0 fat grams! and 17 grams of Protein). Ketchup (just a little - it's got sugar); Mustard (all you want) and if your breath is Ok with it....chopped onions.
  

• Weight Watcher's Yogurt. (all flavors - but I really like Key Lime Pie)

• 100 Calorie mini-bag of Microwave Popcorn (NOT the Buttery, Garlic, Peppered, fancy-schmancey hoo ha kind)

Now, go and be healthy and check back with me in 7 days. I want to know how you're doing. Get busy. Hop to it. Time's a wastin'. You'll be wearing that bikini in no time.

Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner! and other holiday memories...

It's 2009!! It makes one ask....who put the time machine in fast forward. As you know, January is not one of my favorite months. In fact - the least favorite. (Thus - the melancholy moment with the bad posture my daughter caught with her new Canon EOS) Good photo. Slumpy subject.



Nevertheless...I am trying to stay positive. There are good things about getting back to normal. Back to routine. Back to 6 a.m. -- making lunches, driving to school. It's good to be back in the saddle, and yet...there was something so wonderful about these holidays. I'm not exactly sure why, but I'm thinking that maybe people were a little bit more in tune with friends, family, hearth and home and..., perhaps, a little less concerned with the "stuff" of Christmas.

Here's a photo recap of my holidays...

• Sang LOTs of Christmas music every Sunday of Advent. Even went Christmas Caroling with my favorite Popcorn family (Baby Girl in Red sweater, sunglasses and boots!)

• Watched Dirty Dancing with my step-children. We marveled at the bad acting, but good dancing... and remembered that...."Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner"
  

• Cooked and Cleaned more than I usually do - and Pretended to Be June Cleaver, wearing both Pearls and an Apron (and the ubiquitous Uggs)

• Hosted a Fellowship of Christian Atheletes Christmas Party for 50 (yeah...that's right, there were F.I.F.T.Y ) Middle Schoolers all shoved into the game room for a gift exchange.

• Watched A Christmas Story on Chistmas Eve in a chair with my son. Oh...Love these moments!
  

• Shared a bonding moment with my 28 year old Step-Daughter and accompanied her to Bikram Yoga - taught by the Vietnamese Dragon Lady who screamed "TO THE MAXIMUM" and remembered what it was like to be flexible and in shape.
  

• Ate and Ate and Ate..

It was good to be home for the holidays.

"Christmas Eve Gift!"

My family has this bizarre tradition that originated on my dad's side of the family. On Christmas Eve - be the first person to yell out "Christmas Eve Gift" and you're suppose to get one, I guess. My family - always putting a new twist on things - reverses things by saying "Give it here!" - which I guess means that the 2nd person is then suppose to receive the gift. I'm not really sure. It's a very weird custom that I've never heard of in any other family.

My mom's family lived in Arkansas hours away and so we never visited them much at Christmas. My dad's family lived only about an hour away, so we used to go over there on Christmas Eve. I have the most wonderful memories of pulling up to my grandparents country home - with the rocking chairs on the front porch - and my grandfather hobbling out to the porch to greet us getting out of the car with a "CHRISTMAS EVE GIFT!" - Of course - we all yelled - GIVE IT HERE!

What followed was laughter. Food. Dogs. The smell of a wood-burning stove and old people. Old people have a distinctive smell. Know what I mean? My grandparents had a big living room that I thought was huge as a child. It was probably tiny in reality. They had all the children and grandchildren's photos framed and on the wall. You could look around and see all the photos of so-and-so in his army uniform and Little Johnny's toothless grin - posed on a bathmat at Sears. They didn't have a lot of money (OK...they had none) but they had 3 recliners all lined up in front of a big color TV. I used to love to visit them because it seemed worlds away from my everyday life. My grandfather had a wolf/dog that was found under the house with some hound dog pups. I was convinced he really was a wolf and that's what my grandfather called him - "Wolf." And...guess what? My grandfather fed him Wolf brand chili. Really.

Here's hoping your reminiscing about your Christmases past and more importantly, enjoying this one. I hope your gifts are all bought, wrapped and you can relax with your family today. I hope that if you couldn't spend as much as you wanted on Christmas, that you won't dwell on that part of Christmas and that you'll treat this as a gift from heaven to re-discover what Christmas is all about.

Finally - I hope you have the greatest Christmas Eve Gift of all - the gift of eternal life offered to us through Jesus Christ.

Merry Christmas!

Moms Make It Merry

Do you have happy nostalgic memories of Christmas from your youth? 

Chances are...you can thank your mom.  

Was your home decorated at Christmas - with lights, garlands, a tree? Maybe you had those cute villages with the fake pond and snow?

Your mom probably packed and unpacked all those decorations.  Maybe you helped her put them up - but did you help her take them down? 

Did your family send out Christmas cards?  

Your mom kept up with all the addresses and who sent what to whom and arranged for the photo if you had one.  She probably coordinated all your outfits and made sure your hair looked nice, too. 

Did you participate in the play at school or church?

Your mom found the angel costume for you - or the perfect red dress with matching head band, so you would look so....precious.  Oh yeah...that was Mom on the front row with the video camera clapping the loudest.

Did you leave  cookies for Santa?

Your mom baked those and all those other goodies that have become your Christmas favorites.

All those presents under the tree?

The didn't get there by magic, Buster. Mom schlepped around town with your ridiculous list and bought all those .  She kept up with exactly how many each one of you children had so that no one got more.  Oh yeah....she wrapped them all, too!

Those darling teacher gifts you gave to Mrs. So-and-So?

Dear Ole Mom ran out to Walgreens at the last minute so you could show up with the perfect present.

Remember when you ran off to play with all your Christmas presents on Christmas morning?

Your mom was picking up all the wrapping paper and trash strewn from here to kingdom come.

Did you have Christmas dinner with all the trimmings?

Your poor overworked, underappreciated mother cooked that too (that is...after she cleaned up all the wrapping paper. )  

The birth of Christ was a miracle.  Christmas, however, is not.  It's not magic.  It takes a world of moms to pull it off.  Go hug your mom right now!  NOW!

P.S.   Dear Mom - In case I never told you,  thanks for everything you did to give me all those wonderful Christmas memories.  You're the best!

The Rest of the Story

Baby Girl playing "Lady Bugg" in the Fall Theater Production with  her BFF, Maggie.

She's 13 and she is exceptional...so wise beyond her years.  There's no one thing that stands out about her.  She's just exceptional.  She is not nearly as impulsive as I was at her age - she thinks things through and considers the long term implications.  Ok..she's a bit spoiled.  She is pig-headed and stubborn.  (No, really.  It makes me want to choke her sometimes.)  She's not a real girly -girl, but enough to be feminine and attractive.  She loves deeply; hurts deeply; and laughs heartily.  She smells like cotton candy. AND....she has an "A" in math, which I believe may mean she has all "As" this semester.  (We're shooting off guns in the street.)  Now...onto the bragging: She plays volleyball and tennis.  She's much more athletic than I ever was.   She's a member of PALS.  And..she's one darn good little actor.  She can mimic any accent.  She has a deep and abiding love for Jesus.  She stands up for what she believes in despite some alienation by the "in" crowd.  She is all black/white - no grey.  She cares not what people think about her favorite shoes (they don't match! they are not a pair!  It drives me insane...)  She's obsessed with Coldplay and the Office.  My favorite thing about her: everything. 

So proud of them!

Get ready...Big Brag session here.  I'm in the mood.  Loving my kids and thanking God for the privilege of raising two really wonderful people.  Let's start with the oldest.  My son --Isn't he so cute!  Last week he wore a tuxedo and sang in Handel's Messiah. Tonight is he has another choir concert.  (He's the President of the JV Men's Choir)  Two weeks ago he received an award for Academic Excellence. Three weeks ago, we celebrated an undefeated season with his football team.  He plays Center and his coaches seem to really like and respect him.  My favorite thing about him:  He is a loyal friend.  He never talks badly about anyone.  He is principled without being judgmental.  He makes me laugh like no one else can.  He turns 16 in 3 months and I still write his name on his paper lunch sack (sometimes I draw a heart). Occasionally, he will humor me by holding my hand in the car on the way to school.  I am blessed.

Tomorrow - the girl.

Knock, Knock, Knocking on My Chamber Door

Here we are in San Miguel de Allende on the Home and Garden Tour. Super-Churchlady, Birthday Girl, and BFF. Aren't we just precious? It was the first time in San Miguel for my friends and although, they've traveled to Mexico many times (in fact, my BFF used to have a home in Cabo), they were concerned about 3 girls in interior Mexico together alone. They kept joking about the possibility of being kidnapped - and although they were joking, I could tell that they were a little apprehensive about traveling to an unknown place with just lil' ole me as their guide.

My favorite place to stay in San Miguel for you travel buffs is Casa Luna.

I'll let you check out the link for yourself, but just trust me when I say this place is pure heaven. You open the door from the cobblestone street and you just can't believe what lies ahead. Anyway, back to my story....

I was staying in the Yellow Room and they were in the Sweet Suite, which is across an open-air courtyard. One morning, shortly before dawn, I was awakened by my two friends. They were still in their PJ's, they were freezing (because...they were technically outside in the courtyard- although behind a locked door to the street) and they were absolutely panic-stricken because of the cacophony (I always wanted to use that word) of noise coming from the streets of San Miguel. It was incredible. Loud bangs that echoed through the streets and mountains. It got closer and then went away. It came back again. (I have to admit - it was VERY loud, once I was awake.) My friends - whose room was closer to the street- swore there was banging on the front door. They had convinced themselves that there were rival drug cartels shooting it out in the streets. BFF had already determined how we would escape in the trunk of a fellow guest - a Mexican-American woman now living in Mexico City.

In my irritation at being awakened - I started to laugh.

Me: "It's just fireworks. Go back to bed!"

Them: "No! That is gunfire. I know gunfire when I hear it."

Me: (Losing my sense of humor and getting grumpier and colder with the door open... "Whatever. Gunfire or fireworks. Really. It's probably a Saint's day or something. It happens all the time here." And...I assured them that Ernesto, the faithful velador (night watch-man) of many years would protect us from any would-be intruders.

They went back to bed - but I could tell they weren't convinced it wasn't a new Mexican revolution.

Well...at breakfast...we heard the complete story. November 22nd is St. Cecilia's Day. St. Cecilia is the Patron Saint of the Musicians. There is a saying about San Miguel that they only have fireworks on days that end in a "y". San Miguel is famous for it's fiestas. San Miguel has more fiestas per square inch than any town in Mexico, the guidebooks tell you. In San Miguel - they have a fiesta to celebrate the fact that there is no fiesta.

So...if you're in San Miguel and right after 6 a.m. you hear something that makes you think the whole city is being attacked, go back to sleep. It's just some St. Somebody's day.