Parenting At Its Finest

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As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a MOPS Mentor Mom. I don’t really know for sure why I’m a “mentor” and tell my young moms I suppose it’s possible they could maybe learn something from my mistakes. Such as…

When my children were little I thought this or that would be a great mommy thing to do, but instead it caused them to stutter/burp/hit their head against the wall for no apparent reason/hate glitter – you fill in the blank – so don’t do it to your kids.

You see why I might not be best suited for the position.

But every once in a very long while I do have great words of parenting wisdom. A wisdom so profound it garners such looks of awe and appreciation that for a moment I’m embarrassed. Embarrassed that my genius has burned so bright. It’s hard to be humble when you’re a beacon of such enlightenment. But, you know, when you’re that brilliant it just is what it is.

This morning was one of those days. You know what I’m talking about. The kind of day when you’re on fire and everything that comes out of your mouth sounds like something you’d read in an inspirational book or see on Oprah.

Yesterday two of my friends with young children were discussing how they feel bad that they don’t play games for hours with their children like other moms. So this morning I offered them this priceless wisdom:

Don’t worry about it. As they begin to get a little older just start feeding them false memories about how you spent hours upon hours playing their favorite games when they were little. Eventually they will start to believe you and actually think they remember. Bam. You’re the best mother ever.

I KNOW! Brilliant, right?? Sometimes I amaze even myself.

Capriciality

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I am a horrible judge of pita chip to hummus/chip to dip ratio. I underestimated how many pita chips I was going to need to finish the amount of hummus I have, so I just got the bag. It seems to be working out well. Now if I can only make my one little glass of wine last. Tiny sips, Jenster. Tiny baby sips.

******

Katie’s car is in the shop. Last Wednesday as she was driving two other girls to school there was a pop and then smoke coming from the hood. Todd was, of course, out of town. Taylor was with him. I was in the shower as she tried to call me three times, back to back. One of her friend’s mother stopped by the house to tell me what had happened. Missy picked the girls up to take them to school and I was left to get the car picked up by a tow truck and to the shop.

It was 11 degrees when she left for school that morning. The mechanic told me later that day the radiator hoses were frozen and the “pop” was when one of them came off the radiator. The “smoke” was the fluid hitting the hot engine. He wasn’t going to be able to investigate further until the hoses had thawed out. We were hoping and praying with everything that it was only the radiator. New hoses and a radiator flush – while not cheap – is doable. Turns out there is actually something wrong with the engine. Poor Ruby.

The kid we bought the car from – a good friend of Taylor’s – is a mechanic and he’s going to price out parts and we’ll go from there. Hopefully having Nick do the repairs will still make it doable. Otherwise we’ll be scrapping Ruby for parts. Poor Ruby.

******

Taylor left to go back to college today. Well, not actually college. He’s driving to Pittsburg first to hang out with some friends who moved out there a while back. As luck would have it, his girlfriend just so happens to live in the Pittsburg area as well. Wednesday, I think, he and Shelby will then drive from the Pitt (no derogatory meaning intended) down to Lynchburg.

As much as I love having him home – and I do – I’m okay with him going back to school. He does have 1.5 years of higher education under his belt which means he’s super smart. Much smarter than his father or me. We seem to be getting dumber in direct proportion with his amount of time in college. Funny. I don’t feel dumber. Still, I can’t wait until the next time we get to see him.

(Mom and Dad – please picture me groveling as I beg for your forgiveness. Again.)

******

Todd has picked up a new hobby. He’s been making these really cool paracord bracelets for just about everybody. It gives him something to do during the evening. Kind of like Grandma and her knitting.

The bracelets are also called survivor bracelets because let’s just say you’re out hiking in the woods with your buddy and he/she goes over a cliff, barely landing on a narrow ledge 12 feet below. How will you ever pull him/her up? You have no cell service and it’s much too far to hike out – you’ll never make it back before dark, leaving your friend to suffer through the elements. If only you had a rope. But that’s much too heavy. Who would ever hike with 20 feet of rope? But wait! No need to fear! You just happen to be wearing a fashionable paracord bracelet engineered by Todd. You whip it off your wrist, clip the end with your handy Swiss Army knife (because you should never hike without a Swiss Army knife) and SHAPOW! Twenty feet of military grade paracord, able to hold 550 pounds! Crisis averted.

*****

And that’s what’s been happening in my neck of the woods. How about yours?

Good Intentionals

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I am NOT making a New Year’s resolution. I have found they don’t work for me and, in fact, cause more problems than good.

Yesterday in church Dan, our associate pastor, talked about taking off the old self and putting on the new self (Colossians 3: 5-11), which is a great scripture for this time of year. He mentioned three things that will help you reach your goal – whether a spiritual goal or a New Year’s resolution:

1. Pick only one thing
2. Tell someone your goal – someone who will hold you accountable
3. Don’t wait to start over if you mess up

I like this simple little list. It speaks volumes to me.

1. Pick only one thing

One of my biggest problems is becoming overwhelmed with everything I need/want to do. That desk I mentioned above? It’s a part of my sitting room/office which is an unholy wreck. I go in with the intention of cleaning it up but then I don’t know where to start. So I just leave. Maybe I should go in thinking I’m only going to pick up one thing. Or one category of things such as all the bobble heads, as an example. To my knowledge I don’t actually own any bobble heads. Then again, my office is so chaotic I might have a whole collection in there.

Now this concept isn’t new to me. Todd is forever saying, “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.” (Icky analogy if you ask me.) Yeah, yeah. I know. But I forget it a lot.

2. Tell someone your goal

This one is not a problem. I tell everybody everything whether they want to know or not. The issue is my lack of pride. So I tell you I’m going to clean up my office and then I don’t do it. Big woo. If you think less of me because I didn’t meet a personal goal I’d set for myself then so be it. No skin off my nose.

This attitude is a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing because I never struggled with the whole, “if I only do this or that, then they will like me.” I’ve pretty much always felt like, “this is me. I’m a good person and if they don’t like me because I’m not rich/pretty/smart/skinny/popular/spiritual/fill-in-the-blank enough then I that’s fine. I’d prefer not to be wrapped up with somebody that shallow.” I can’t honestly say why I’ve always had this attitude and I wish with everything in me that I could transfer that to young girls. Of course, this isn’t to say I’ve never felt inadequate or self conscious or any of those negative emotions because believe you me, I have and still do at times. It’s just not the usual way of how I think.

How is this mindset a curse? Easy! The whole accountability part doesn’t work so well with me. Maybe if I was to ask someone mean to hold me accountable it would be better. I suppose I need a scary drill sergeant who will cause me physical pain if I don’t do it.

3. Don’t wait to start over if you mess up.

Hello! This is where my rationalization hurts me every.single.time. I start a diet on Monday and when I blow it on Wednesday I just go hog wild until the following Monday. Is it any wonder I can’t manage to lose weight?

Perfect case in point. I started Weight Watchers about 10 weeks ago. I was doing great! I was only averaging about a pound a week but that was okay. I’m in this for the long haul so I was pleased with my very slow success. Then I went to Akron for a week. I managed to get a good hour or so of exercise nearly every day I was there, but I didn’t keep track of my food or activities and I didn’t make it to my weekly meeting. Then the following week I was so busy with work and other stuff (like parties three nights in a row) that I dropped the ball again. And let’s not even talk about the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Besides, we had company and we had to entertain them. And entertainment always includes good food you know.

So this year isn’t any different than any other year. I’m not actually making resolutions. Except I think I really am. I’m just not calling it a resolution. I’m planning on being more intentional. Not just this year, but from now on.

There are two quotes that describe me perfectly.

Ignorance is bliss

The road to hell is paved with good intentions

The first quote I will cling to until I breathe my last breath. It makes my life, well, blissful. I’m not a fan of the second quote because I always have the best of intentions. I just have no follow through and I hate that about me. So I am removing it from my repertoire.

Instead of having good intentions I’m going to be intentional about my actions. Instead of saying “it’s my intention to write so and so a note,” I’m going to be intentional about sending a note to someone every Monday. (I just came up with that one and I kind of like it.) Or instead of thinking it’s my intention to lose X amount of pounds this year, I’m going to be intentional about following the Weight Watchers plan. Or instead of it’s my intention to read my bible more, I’m going to be intentional about how I spend my time.

I don’t know that there’s really any difference, but for some reason it makes sense to me. And in the grand scheme of things here, that’s what counts.
So here’s how it’s going to play out:

1. Pick one thing

I’m going to be more intentional. That’s all. I have a lot of goals and I’m going to be more intentional about how to meet them. I might not meet them in 2012 and that’s okay. Except for my office. I really hope I realize the goal of having my sitting room clean and organized and conducive to being creative and productive before the end of the month!

2. Tell someone your goal

Um, I think this one is pretty clear. But for those of you who are a little slow on the uptake, I’m telling you right now. I’m going to be more intentional.

3. Don’t wait to start over if you mess up

So when I blow it tomorrow morning I’ll just start back up tomorrow afternoon, take off my old self again and put on the shiny new self.

since you have taken off your old self with its practices 10 and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator.
Colossians 3:9b-10

Mud and Flowers and Christmas Trees

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Todd’s folks are visiting from California so we took them to Longwood Gardens yesterday. I had very carefully chosen the day based on the weather and the kids’ busy schedules and bought our tickets ahead of time. While Tuesday was cool and rainy, yesterday was clear. And cold. And windy.

We drove an hour south through some very pretty landscapes, found the gardens and followed the instructions to the parking lot. Remember that rainy Tuesday I mentioned? Well it turned the grassy areas of the lot into a gooey, muddy mess. We had to cross that muddy mess to get to the busses that would take us to the gardens. They had put straw down and I heard Todd say, “Be careful. It’s muddy.” So I was walking and pulling on gloves and stuffing jacket pockets with stuff and holding onto my camera and being careful – all at the same time. Suffice it to say the straw was useless in my case. I started to slide and down I went, but not quickly. It seemed to take forever before I was lying down in the mud like a pig in slop. As my left foot started to slip I kind of left my body and watched it happen to someone else in slow motion. And when I finally landed I let an unladylike expletive escape. Because 1) I looked anything but ladylike, all sprawled out in the mud; and 2) what I was wallowing in looked like what I said.

So back to the car I went to clean up as best I could. One of the parking attendants got some paper towels out of his truck for me and Todd gave me his treasured microfiber cloth. Precious got a little muddy, but thankfully nothing serious.

As I mentioned, it was cold and very windy. Thankfully a good portion of what we saw was inside a huge conservatory. When we left the protection of the structure we thought it may have actually warmed up a bit. Turns out there was just a lull in the wind. The best part about Longwood Gardens at Christmastime happens when the sun goes down and the gardens and trees are lit up. It was still light outside so we decided to go eat inside where it was warm. Once warmed and fortified, we perused the gardens and ended our evening with a viewing of the fountain show.

I didn’t want to bog down the blog by posting a ton of pictures, so if you click on the picture it will take you to a Photobucket slideshow.

Longwood Gardens Slideshow

When we got home from our fun adventure we all changed into comfy, cozy jammies. And the perfect end to a perfect day? (Except Katie filled hers so high there was no room for marshmallows or whipped cream.)

Post Christmas {Mary} Christmas Post

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As I was perusing the internet for devotional ideas last week, I found Teri Lynne Underwood’s blog with the tag line of “Encouraging lives where the sacred and the secular collide.” I was intrigued. Her current series called “Have Yourself a {Mary} Little Christmas intrigued me further so I decided to hang out for a bit. Lucky for you I did because I found the posts in her series worthy of sharing.

So without further ado, be intrigued and enjoy…

Have Yourself A {Mary} Little Christmas, Introduction

Have Yourself A {Mary} Little Christmas, Part 1

Have Yourself A {Mary} Little Christmas, Part 2

Have Yourself A {Mary} Little Christmas, Part 3

Have Yourself A {Mary} Little Christmas, Part 4

Have Yourself A {Mary} Little Christmas, Conclusion

Momma Mary

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Every month at our MOPS/MOMS meeting a mentor mom gives a quick devotional and a short prayer. December was my month and since we didn’t have a speaker for the meeting I was asked to talk a little bit longer. So I wrote something up and I decided to post it here. Because, you know, it’s already written so I may as well. Keep in mind it was written as a speech. I was going to finagle it into my kind of writing, but changed my mind.

I hate to state the obvious, but Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ. We all know he wasn’t really born on the 25th, or in the month of December for that matter. And even though Christmas – or Christ’s Mass – was created to replace a pagan holiday with a Christian holiday, the idea is still worth celebrating.

Most of us grew up learning about the virgin Mary’s visit from an angel and her fiancé, Joseph, and their trip to Bethlehem in which she rode a donkey while very pregnant (though I don’t even think that’s in the Bible) and finding no room in the inn and Mary giving birth to Jesus in a manger alongside the animals and wrapping him in swaddling clothes and a multitude of angels and a bunch of shepherds and three wise kings bringing him gifts and all that. Even non-Christians know all about that story.

But…

This is more than just a story and it’s really easy to forget that.

The Christmas story took on a whole new meaning for me 19 years ago. That was my first Christmas with a child. I remember looking at my precious 8-month-old son and wondering how it had been for Mary. Obviously they didn’t celebrate Christmas, but I tried to put myself in her place.

Luke 1:30-3330But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. 31 You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. 32 He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, 33 and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”

So this is where the first difference came in. I conceived my son the good old fashioned way. More than that, though. Mary knew the child she carried was from God. She understood he was special beyond imagination. But I suspect that when she felt that precious child kick for the very first time she felt no more in love than any of us when we felt that first kick.

Luke 2: 4-7 4 So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. 5 He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, 7 and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

Do you remember when you held your baby for the first time? Some of you may have adopted a child and I don’t believe it’s any different. Whether biological or not, your own child is as precious to you as Jesus was to Mary and to behold that little being for the first time is nothing short of a miracle – immaculate conception or not.

Luke 2:8-21 8 And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. 9 An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. 11 Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. 12 This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
13 Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
14 “Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”
15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”
16 So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. 17 When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. 19 But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. 20 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
21 On the eighth day, when it was time to circumcise the child, he was named Jesus, the name the angel had given him before he was conceived.

I want to hone in on one sentence out of that long bit of scripture – verse 19. “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” Now when I birthed my babies there were no hosts of angels or bright lights or people I didn’t know flocking to their bassinet to see them, but family and friends did come and they ooooed and awwwwed and I kinda liked it. And just like Mary, I treasured up all those things and have kept them in my heart.

Luke 2:22-35 22 When the time came for the purification rites required by the Law of Moses, Joseph and Mary took him to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord 23 (as it is written in the Law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male is to be consecrated to the Lord”[b]), 24 and to offer a sacrifice in keeping with what is said in the Law of the Lord: “a pair of doves or two young pigeons.”[c]
25 Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was on him. 26 It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. 27 Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts. When the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the custom of the Law required, 28 Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying:
29 “Sovereign Lord, as you have promised,
you may now dismiss[d] your servant in peace.
30 For my eyes have seen your salvation,
31 which you have prepared in the sight of all nations:
32 a light for revelation to the Gentiles,
and the glory of your people Israel.”
33 The child’s father and mother marveled at what was said about him. 34 Then Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother: “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, 35 so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.”

How many of you don’t like to hear the nice things about your kids? I remember picking one or another child up from preschool or maybe a babysitter and hearing, “He/she is so well behaved. So polite,” and thinking they must have the wrong kid! Even so, I liked hearing it.

But what must she have felt hearing the last sentence? “And a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Mary was a good Jewish girl and was probably fairly well versed in the scriptures. But I wonder if: A) she knew all the prophecies; and B) she understood what that meant for her son.

About a month after that first Christmas as a new mother, my son, Taylor, didn’t wake up one morning. He tried, but his little lips were gray and his eyes would just roll back into his head and he’d pass out. My husband had bacterial pneumonia so I had to drive Taylor to the Emergency room while Todd talked to the doctor there on the phone and warned of our arrival. They ushered my cherished child and me into a private examination room and performed all manner of tests on him, including a spinal tap. He didn’t flinch. It was at that point a doctor took me out in the hallway and told me I had to be prepared for anything.

Taylor was diagnosed with RSV and admitted to ICU where it was touch and go for the first 24 hours. He’s a strapping 19-year-old now, but to hear “You have to be prepared for anything” 18 years ago is still fresh in my emotion bank.

Some of you have had to hear much worse. Imagine what it was like for Mary to be told, albeit poetically, that someday her heart would break. Maybe she knew exactly what he was talking about or maybe she didn’t. But I’ve no doubt she experienced fear and pain with that one sentence.

Luke 2:36-38 36 There was also a prophet, Anna, the daughter of Penuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was very old; she had lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, 37 and then was a widow until she was eighty-four.[e] She never left the temple but worshiped night and day, fasting and praying. 38 Coming up to them at that very moment, she gave thanks to God and spoke about the child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem.

Anna and Simeon served as a reminder to Mary that her son was not your average baby. And yet to Mary he was her treasured child just as our children are treasures to us.

Luke 2:39-52 39 When Joseph and Mary had done everything required by the Law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee to their own town of Nazareth. 40 And the child grew and became strong; he was filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was on him.
41 Every year Jesus’ parents went to Jerusalem for the Festival of the Passover. 42 When he was twelve years old, they went up to the festival, according to the custom. 43 After the festival was over, while his parents were returning home, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but they were unaware of it. 44 Thinking he was in their company, they traveled on for a day. Then they began looking for him among their relatives and friends. 45 When they did not find him, they went back to Jerusalem to look for him. 46 After three days they found him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. 47 Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers. 48 When his parents saw him, they were astonished. His mother said to him, “Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.”
49 “Why were you searching for me?” he asked. “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?”[f] 50 But they did not understand what he was saying to them.
51 Then he went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. But his mother treasured all these things in her heart. 52 And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man.

Again, Mary treasured all these things in her heart. There would come a time when she would have to face the unthinkable, but as he was growing up she was making a heart journal, if you will.

For the rest of us there comes a time when we have to let our children go. Our goal as mothers is to train them up in the way of God and see them off into adulthood. As the mother of an out of state college student I can tell you, it’s not easy. I’m happy he’s having such a great college experience and I’m proud of the man he’s becoming, but at the same time I miss my little boy. And for that I’m thankful for everything that I have treasured in my heart over the last 20 years.

When I look at Mary as just a mom and not the mother of the savior of this world, it helps me to see the Christmas story as real. I can relate with a great deal of her experiences and the supernatural parts I can’t relate to help me to see the magnificence of the miracle of Jesus.

So this Christmas, instead of just reading the story as a story, read it as a mom who loves her child beyond description reading about another mom who loves her child beyond description.

I Spent a Week in Akron One Day…

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I’ve been in Ohio with Todd since Sunday evening. His home office is here, he had to spend the week in the office and the company Christmas party is tonight. You know what that means… Yeah. Me neither.

Anyhoo, I decided to come along for a week of R&R – Reading and wRiting. Or RR&S – Reading, wRiting and Stuff. It may sound a bit boring, but it’s actually been fabulous. Every morning I get up when I get up, drink some coffee, read a little, write a little, spend an hour on a stationary bike in the fitness room (super easy to do because I was able to read at the same time. It was win/win!), shower, read, write, go get something for dinner with Todd, etc.

The truck was packed to the gills when we left Pennsylvania. I brought my suitcase, of course. And I brought my camera and computer bag filled with my camera, three lenses, a flash, a charging cord, my computer and it’s charging cord, another bag with stuff I could do in case I ran out of other stuff to do, a filing box, Christmas cards, address book and stamps, wrapping paper and tape, my kindle and charger, my bible and bible study book, six pairs of shoes, my regular jacket and my nice jacket, two scarves, my iPhone and my special docking station/charger from work and that might be it. I pretty much moved into the hotel.

Since the Christmas party is tonight I decided to have a little professional grooming done so as not to embarrass Todd in front of his colleagues. I hear cave woman is no longer en vogue. So I went to the mall across the street and had a simple manicure, after which I endured some facial waxing. The dude (yes, it was a dude) nipped me while he was cutting my cuticles. Good thing for him I have a high pain tolerance; otherwise his right shin might be feeling a bit like my right pointer finger. Other than that one incident it was a very pleasant and one of the better manicures I’ve had. I don’t usually put color on my nails but since it’s a party tonight I had him put on some sparkly stuff. Because my motto is, “If a sparkly boy vampire is cool, how much more cool are sparkly fingernails on a woman for a Christmas party?” Okay. That’s not really my motto. I just now said it for the first time. But there is a certain truth to it, don’t you think?

After that it was time to wax the eyebrows. I had hoped he understood when I said I didn’t want thin or high arched eyebrows, but it sure felt like he was waxing off everything. All I could think was, “I’ve already done the no eyebrow thing and I didn’t like it, thank you very much.” But I didn’t bother saying that because I still don’t think he would have understood me. Turns out he left me a significant amount of browage and they look pretty good, all shaped up nicely and everything.

I also had him wax my lip. I figured there’s no way to mess that up. Except now I have a raw spot right below my nose where the wax ripped a little more than hair.

So now tonight I’ll go to Todd’s company Christmas party, meet these people for the first time and try to forget the bloody stump I have for a fingernail and the big, red, raw spot above my lip that’s glaring at everybody. At least my eyebrows look good.

After that I perused the mall but didn’t find anything I had to have so I left and drove straight to Barnes and Noble. There I got a bite to eat and a venti Eggnog Latte with whip. I was trying to comfort myself after my traumatic experience. Then I just walked around and it was delightful. Even though I have a Kindle now I still love walking around a book store. The smell of the paper mingled with the coffee and the leather seats… I think Yankee Candle should make a candle called “Bookstore Coffee Shop with Leather Seats”.

After that it was off to Target for eye liner and a few other things. I’ve come to realize I can never, ever get out of the house with every essential piece of makeup. I also needed some cash – a five spot to be precise – so I got $20 from the ATM. Then I had the dilemma of how to break the twenty. Lucky for me there was a Panera in the shopping center. The same Panera that Todd and I went to dinner at the other night. The same Panera that had these delicious looking mint crinkle cookies, those same cookies as what called out to me the other night. Those same cookies as what called out to me but I ignored. Or so I thought.

It’s not that I really wanted them. I just had to break the twenty. So being the industrious person that I am, I went in and bought two. And they went really well with my eggnog latte. And the powdered sugar looks really pretty on my black t-shirt.

All in all it’s been a great week. I didn’t need but about a fourth of what I brought, but that’s okay. I’m all about being prepared. Just ask my family. I always make them pack however many days worth of underwear plus two or three extra. One never knows when that extra pair might come in handy. Like when Katie starts laughing so hard and says, “Oh! Stop! I think I’m going to pee myself.” (I’m sorry to share that with you. Hopefully she’s not reading this.)

Tomorrow morning we’ll pack up the truck (it could take a while) and then hit the road. We’re both anxious to get home. Todd’s parents came in from California Wednesday night and Taylor will be getting home this evening. I’m all about hugging that boy’s neck right now. And I can’t even tell you how much I’ve missed my girl! And Katie too. (BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!)