Yes, I do happen to know the way to Sesame Street.

I am a mom, that is what I am. Each pregnancy is etched in my mind so clearly. It's all there; the sickness, the heartburn, the exhaustion, the first movement, the first kick, the first heartbeat. I remember each birth; each pain, each incision, the first cry, the first look, the first moment of love. Never will I forget. I am a mom. I cherish the memory of the first bath, the first bottle, the first diaper change. I can clearly recall the sleepless nights, the colicky evenings when no one slept, the spit up, the throw up, and covering up to nurse in public. I am a mom.

As they each grew, the needs and sounds of our household changed, but I still carry those sounds with me. The bickering and teasing, the squeals of joy and yelps of pain, the contented sighs and the belly laughs, all still echo in my mind. I am a mom. I remember every skinned knee, pinched finger, pulled hair, and stubbed toe. I remember nights filled with fever and little sleep, and days filled with cartoons, sippy cups and laughter. I can still see the joy of the discovery of learning; letters, colors, shapes, sounds, it was all so amazing. I remember it all. I am a mom.

I once had a closet of suits and dresses, I now have a dresser full of sweats and t-shirts. I once carried a designer purse, then came the designer diaper bag. Once it was coffee with friends, then it became juice boxes at the park, I once knew the plot to quite a few prime time soaps, now I can tell you every train on Thomas and Friends, as well as every member of the Justice League. I know all the words to Steve's mail song, how to stop Swiper, and just who it is that lives in the pineapple under the sea. That is my world and I try to stay knowledgeable about current events, and yes, I do happen to know the way to Sesame Street. I am, after all, a mom.

I have watched my kids grow with a heart filled with joy, a body filled with pain, a stomach filled with butterflies, and eyes, at times, filled with tears. Remember, I am a mom. Now we're on to girlfriends, learners licenses, contacts, cell phones, lap tops and video games. I look at a man standing 6' 5" and I see a little boy only 3' 3" holding a metal lunch box heading to preschool. I want to give them roots, I want to give them wings. I want them to soar, I want to catch them if they fall. I want them to have a wonderful life, I want them to never move away from home. I am a mom.

Motherhood, no greater joy, no greater heartache to be found anywhere on earth. I know, I am, after all, a mom.

Laundry today, or naked tomorrow

I haven't written much lately. I'm not sure why. The brothers are back in school and the house is mine for a few quiet, albeit short, hours a day. I find myself in a bit of a funk, at a crossroads if you will. I'm adrift in that transitional place where the excitement of the move has worn off, but life is not yet as it will be in, say, 6 months from now. You know, when I will once again be surrounded by so many devoted fans, uh, I mean friends. The place where my social calendar is always full and I have to draw names from a hat to try to figure out which invitation to accept less I offend one of the many people clamoring for my attention. Ok, I'm awake now, what I mean to say is when I have a friend I can go have coffee with!

This is a season of change in my family's life and in my life personally. You know the saying, "change is good", well, thats relative.

The brothers started school yesterday. I admit, when they left, I cried. I don't know why, I guess I just missed them. Monkey Boy seemed so small standing there at the bus stop all by himself. I had to drive him to it as there was a mix-up and the closest bus stop to our house is almost a mile away! Then, when I was returning to the house I passed Surfer Boy and Mumbles at their stop. There were about 15 kids out there with them, but they were standing off to themselves talking to each other. No one was paying any attention to them. Now, before you start feeling sorry for them, please remember who we're talking about. They were probably standing there quietly making fun of those surrounding them, thereby rendering them with no time to actually talk to those same kids. My boys are nothing if not predictable. I know how their safety methods work; pretend to not want to make friends with anyone so if no one likes you it's all good. So, saying all this, I also have to admit they were not even in the house this afternoon before I was supremely annoyed by them! They are under the false belief that as soon as the doorbell is rung I magically am teleported to the front door to open it for them. Ain't happening.

Being the first day of school I decided to make homemade chocolate marshmallow cookies for them. It was a new recipe, but it looked so good, and so it was, at least I thought it was. Out of the four brothers, one loved them (but he'll eat anything sweet, so he doesn't count!) one said they were good, but that he "would finish eating it a little later", one said they were just "ok" and one said they were too chocolatey. Is that even possible? I've never heard of anything having "too much" chocolate. That's like saying "I'm too thin, too rich, and my house is too clean". It just can't happen in truth!



No great spiritual insights today. I'm just here in the trenches, slogging it out, trying to keep my head down so I don't get shot and keep the laundry up while I'm doing it. I heard someone say once that as a Christian woman, how we ran our home was a direct reflection on God. I kind of hope that's not true, because if God were here, he probably wouldn't have anything to wear tomorrow either!

Running around crazy today; doctor appointments, errands, laundry, and cooking. I'm already tired! This writers block, like all blocks, will pass, hopefully soon. Until then you're stuck with the mundane happenings of my everyday life and the lives of my kids.

Quote of the day: Laundry today, or naked tomorrow! gotta love truth when you see it!

Gotta run, I'm out of Tide and these trenches get really muddy!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

What are you doing here?

I started to write, but then I decided I need chocolate. So come back tonight and I'll have an update for you!!!! Until then, it's chocolate cookies for everyone!!!!!!!

Hugs, Kisses, and Meatloaf

I was feeling the need for warmth, comfort and "homeness" the other night so I did what all, good, southern women do. I made comfort food. This night, for me, that meant meatloaf. I don't make it very often because it's fattening and, let's face it, the kids normally won't eat it, but I needed comfort, and since I'm the cook, I win. It was accompanied by the required mashed potatoes and green beans. The only thing I was lacking was chocolate for dessert. This lapse was corrected by a Hershey's bar I had hidden in the bottom of my purse, slightly melted and misshapened but chocolate non the less.

We all have our moments of needing comfort and it starts from birth. Sometimes all a cranky newborn wants is the comfort found in his mother's arms. It doesn't change much as we grow. A toddler doesn't really want a band-aid for his skinned knee, he wants his mother's attention, kisses, and, yes, again, comfort. Along the way, our comfort needs may change from Mom's kisses to a blanket or a stuffed animal to a song, a friend, or even a particular routine, but we still all need that comfort. Psych doctors tell us it's an important step in development when we learn to "self-comfort". It's what makes our 5yr old be able to fall asleep by himself and our 1yr have a little more trouble.

As adults, since it's no longer acceptable to go running to Mom for kisses every time we have a bad day (plus by this time we've waaay outgrown her lap) we find other ways to self-comfort. Sometimes it's food (yes, I did go there), sometimes it's shopping, or exercising (I have no idea what that's about!) or any number of things. But, rest assured, we all need comfort.

Our attempts to find comfort in this life are, at best, a stop gap measure. True comfort is found only in God. The 23rd Psalm talks of how He comforts us, but my favorite is 2nd Corinthians 1 where He is called the God of all comfort. We live in the physical world, in the here and now, and He understands that. That's why His comfort can sneak up on us and we don't even realize it's Him.

I remember, after the commander was in the explosion, riding in the lear jet on the way to the burn center in Salt Lake City. It had all happened so fast. I was plucked from my everyday life with my kids and thrown into a whirlwind of ambulances and hospitals and people everywhere. My kids weren't with me and I was completely alone, or so I thought. It was so loud in that little jet. The pilots and paramedics had headphones and mics so they could talk to each other, but I had nothing. About an hour into the flight I was, in my heart and in my head, searching for God to somehow make sense out of my current insanity. I remember thinking, "Lord, I am so alone! I feel so isolated. If only I had someone to talk to, even for just a moment!" The prayer was only just completed when all of a sudden, the paramedic who had completely ignored me the entire trip, turned around and asked me how I was doing, offered me a coke and assured me that the flight was almost over. I needed that little bit of human contact to keep me grounded and God knew that. I don't know if this man knew God or anything about Him, but God used him to bring me comfort in a desperate situation.

His word says he comforts us and then we can comfort others with that same comfort.(2Cor1:4)Southern women have long known how this works. When I was growing up, anytime anything happened to anyone, the answer was always to take over food! Someone have a baby? Make a casserole, Hospitalized? Pot roast is the answer. Stubbed toe? It's time for cake! (that one was always my favorite!) Of course, taking food over was only the excuse used to be there, to spend time, to listen, to cry with, rejoice with, to hold a hand, hug a neck, in short, just to comfort.

My aim, today, is to be a little bit of comfort to someone, somewhere, even if it's right here within my own home. Maybe it's just a touch, a smile, an understanding ear, and maybe, just maybe it's a meatloaf.

Gotta run, there's leftovers in the fridge and they won't heat themselves!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Does anyone have any Febreez???

It’s Monday night and I’m at church. Why, you ask? It seems Scamp was fortunate enough to arrive in town in time for the annual Kid’s Festival. So far, it’s going great and fun is being had by all. Do you ever wonder if God ever has Kid’s Festivals or do you think when He created this world His intention was for it to be one big festival? Stop for a minute and think about the garden of Eden; no dishes to be washed, no homework, no unmade beds, no cooking, not even any laundry! Right about now that’s sounding pretty much like a festival to me!

Kids continue to fascinate me. The other night Scamp, whose 5, was enthralled with watching a large spider spin a web. His dad, being a great dad, was explaining how it works, how the spider manages such a feat, what the purpose of the web is and other such fatherly things. I was thinking, as I listened, “what a wonderful teaching moment! What a great opportunity to talk to him about the wonders of God’s creation and how miraculously He has created all things!” I knew I was slightly off the mark when Scamp turns to his dad and says, “then why doesn’t Spiderman’s web come out his backside?”. How can you answer that? Really? Just what is the correct response to a statement like that? It never fails, when things are a little stressful, Scamp will say something that will shock and amuse me. Sometimes it’s like living with 3-D cartoon!

So, I find myself sitting in the church fellowship hall alone tonight. The kids are all having their fun, but I am craving a little solitude, a little time to shut out the world and center myself again. In a household of 5 guys, there is very little privacy. No matter what I do I cannot seem to put a stop to things such as belching contests during dinner, battle re-enactments in the living room, numerous name calling, and the desire and attempts to beat each other into submission through various wrestling moves. Sure, it’s all in good fun in the end, but it’s in the middle that just might get me! The funky boy smell alone sometimes is enough to stagger a horse. Right now I’m almost sure you could find a bathroom in my house that would rival any bathroom at any truck stop. I know the saying; “boys will be boys!” I live with it on a daily basis.

I learned a very important lesson early on in raising my boys. I cannot, no matter how hard I try, turn them into girls. I remember a time when they were 3,4,5 and 8 and the level of chaos seemed insurmountable. I just couldn’t understand why they had no interest in sitting and playing quietly. I didn’t ask them to play with dolls or any other such “girly” toys. I bought them trucks, I bought building blocks, I bought hot wheels and trains and construction sets. Did they sit and play nicely?? Nooooo! We had to use the construction sets to build cities with the blocks so the hot wheels, trucks and trains could crash through and destroy them. I realized one day, I was expecting them to act like girls. Being one myself, I can hardly be blamed for that little lapse, it’s in my genes. Once I relaxed and allowed the boys to be boys a lot of the stress faded, or at least some of it faded. It’s always stressful to find the cat in the dryer and peanut butter in the vcr. So began my journey into the world of little boys, of rocks and trees, of trains and leggos, of comic books and video games, of skinned knees and broken bones. But it has not been a journey without reward. There are no kisses on the planet to rival the kisses of an 8 year old boy, slightly sweaty, more than slightly dirty, smelling of pond water, wet dog and little green apples. They are given with an openness of heart found nowhere else on the planet. I may never be the mother of the bride, I may never plan a wedding, I may always have to have my nails and hair done alone, but I am the queen of my castle with a house full of loyal, if slightly smelly subjects and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Gotta run now, the bathroom needs cleaning. You do not want to know why!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Ditching the tour group, dancing out!

I am in a funk tonight, a big, blue funk. I knew it was bound to happen at some point. The excitement of the move has worn off and real life, once again, has begun to emerge. It's not that I don't absolutely love my new house, I do, I really do. My current tour of the pit of depression has more to do with the lack of connections here. That's not even completely true. There have been some tentative forays into the land of new relationships, but these things take time. I like the new church God has lead us to. I know, in time, I will probably love it, but, that too, takes time. I was speaking with our new Pastor this morning after service. I guess, despite my attempt to appear my usual bubbly, sunny self, I looked a little down. Pastor Awesome stopped, looked at me, and said "you're ready to go home, aren't you?" I told him no, I was fine, just having a bit of a rough day. Pastor Awesome, being, indeed, awesome, quickly surmised that I was feeling a little homesick. He told me this place would never be as good as home, but, despite the whole awesome thing, I have to disagree with him on that one point.

I look at it this way. God brought us here, I know that. I know that he had this house for us and this church for us and these people for us. Having a history with God and his amazing, all consuming love for me I have to believe He has wonderful things planned for me here. That doesn't mean this can ever be the same as home, home will always be home, after all, a wise man I once knew said "you can't change where you came from". However, God's word promises my latter will be greater than what has come before. This tells me things get better and better when we walk with Him. I didn't say easier and easier, anyone who has walked with Him for any length of time knows that is not necessarily the case. But, easier doesn't always mean better anyway. Sometimes the thing that will make us the happiest is the hardest and scariest thing to do.

I intend, therefore, to call Pastor's wife, Mrs Awesome and sign up for the worship team's upcoming auditions. Those of you who know me, know I haven't been involved in music for quite some time. I had a bad experience when I left the worship team at a church we were once involved in. I stepped down and have never had the opportunity nor the guts to create another opportunity, to be involved in the worship at any other church we have been to. I love music, I love worship, I love to point the way into the peace and grace and all consuming everything that opens to us as we worship, but I have let fear stand in my way. I have the little voices in my head that tell me my voice is not what it was, not what it should be, not what anyone would want it to be. But, I have learned, we are happiest operating in the gifts the Father has so lovingly given us. So, as hard as it is, as scary as it is, I have determined to step out and audition. They may hear me sing and show me the door, either way it doesn't matter. I will grow in the process.

I may never win a Grammy, never sing to Presidents or kings, never again have an audience bigger than little Scamp when I tuck him in at night, at least by the world's view. But I know, when I open my mouth and pour my heart into song I am singing for the King of Kings, and making Him happy is a much higher goal. He doesn't care if I'm a little off key or my voice is still a little scratchy. His word says He sings over me and I am absolutely blown away by that statement. There is a song that says "I love my Father, my Father loves me, I dance for my Father, my Father sings over me, and nothing, nothing, nothing can take that away from me, Dancing with my Father God in fields of grace!" I love the image these words create, so free, so childlike, so real.

Why not make it your goal this week to take time to sing and dance with your Father in fields of grace? There is such peace and joy in just being with Him. Take time to just be with Him, not ask, not beg, not complain, not seek forgiveness or direction or provision or even blessing, just be. That, in itself, is the greatest blessing.

I'm out of here, my dance partner is waiting and there's no need for allergy medicine in fields of grace!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Don't build your nest on the ground!

It's been a rough week at the House of Chaos. Things have not run exactly according to plan. Nothing big, just little annoying things all week, just enough to put you in a grumpy mood, or, at least put me in a bit of a grumpy mood.

The forced isolation brought on by the recent relocation is quickly wearing thin. I knew I was in trouble when I found myself lingering in the check out line at Food Lion just so I could talk to someone over the age of 15! It's hard to develop a real friendship when all you have to talk about is the condition of your tomatoes. I really became concerned when I found myself sleeping in till 3pm, craving Ramen noodles and calling the commander "Dude". I can't wait till school starts! I know that will help the brothers as well. It's hard to go from being the center of a large social group that never seemed to stop to this social wilderness. It does have some advantages, though. Surfer boy was over heard saying he didn't want Mumbles to be mad at him because he's the only other person near his age he knew in NC!

Hey! you gotta find the bright spots!

The brothers are all so different and dealing with this in their own ways but I see bits of the commander and me peeking through. It's another reminder of just how connected we are to our children and they to us. I've had mornings from the other side of the coin when I looked in the mirror and saw my mother starring back at me, but that's an issue better left alone! I see how very much our decisions in life effect/affect (you be the judge!) our kids lives in ways I'd never seen before. I was reading Leviticus and there is a scripture there (chpt 26) that talks about what will happen to the children of Israel if they refuse to obey the commands God has put down for them. It talks of the many afflictions that will come upon them and how their seeds won't grow and their strength will fail and, get this, how wild animals will come upon them and snatch their children away! It kind of makes you sit up and take notice of how what we do so greatly affects our children. It goes on later to say in verse 39 those who are left will waste away because of their sins and "because of their father's sins". I had to sit and ponder that for a while. Why would God punish someone because of what their father did. Then I went back and read the scripture again. It doesn't actually say God is going to punish them. Their father had made bad choices in life, choices against God. He chose not to follow God's laws and obey His words. That put the father in a bad place, a place void of God's blessings. The kids had no choice in it. They, being part of the family, went where good old dad went. They were raised in a godless manner through no fault of their own. Once they are of age and make those bad choices for themselves, that's a different matter entirely. If we choose to go out on our own, away from God and his blessings, make no mistake, it will affect our children negatively. If a mother bird chooses to go against the laws God has instilled in it and builds her nest on the ground she can hardly blame God when the neighbors cat makes a meal off her newly hatched brood. It's not the baby bird's fault, it's simply the result of bad choices made by mama birdy. It may not have been the baby bird's fault, but it will still end up a feline appetizer.

So, after all this deep, heavy thought and pondering, two things have been made clear to me. The first is, I now have a bad headache, but more importantly, the second, just how important it is for us, as parents to stay close to the Lord. There's more than just our lives at stake, our children's welfare is also in the balance. I'm going to try to remember all this the next time the enemy tries to tempt me into something that would be so good for only a season but bring death into my life. I won't be the only one suffering the consequences. Peace and joy are found within the Lord so I'll choose to stay with Him. Besides, the neighbor's cat is looking a little lean and hungry.

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Let the praises begin!!!

Everyone, breathe easy, stand down the crisis has passed! The coffee maker has been found!

Let us rejoice!

Inane ramblings

I still can't find our coffee maker! The folks are coming for a couple of days and I only have a 4 cup coffee maker. This could, most definitely, get ugly! Does anyone know if Starbucks delivers??

We'll be playing fruit basket turn over with the beds as well. It's times like this I really miss having a guest room!

What to do with a whiny 5 yr old? It seems Scamp is in love with the used PS2 that I bought him before leaving Georgia. The only problem is, the games he loves for it are just a little over his head. This results in hearing, 3,000 times a day; "Monkey Boy won't help me! I need help!" Of course, this is delivered at the very top of his lungs in the most whiny voice he is capable of. I think I am the one who will soon need help, of the mental kind. School cannot start soon enough!


Our 3-legged terrier may also be in need of a doggy therapist. While in Ga she had a terrible habit of standing in the middle of the pond barking at the fish. All. Day. Long! Keep in mind these were the same fish that had been in the same pond since the day we had moved in 6 years prior. Since there is no pond and no fish here in NC she has developed a new neurosis. While we are awaiting the completion of our fence Leggo is on a running line but she will only use a third of it. When she gets to the tree about about 10 feet down the line she just stops. She won't go past it for some reason. She sits and barks, but not at fish now, but at the squirrels just beyond her reach as they scamper up and down the trees. Of course, if she would go past the tree she could chase the little fuzzy devils till her heart was content, but noooooo, she just sits by the tree and barks!

What has my life come to that I ponder the actions of a small 3-legged dog with such intensity?

Speaking of random ponderings, I had one last night. It was painful, but I came home and took an asprin and laid down for a while. As we were passing KFC I noticed the sign not only said "KFC", but also said "Kentucky Fried Chicken". Now, my question would be; How can it be "Kentucky" fried chicken if it's in North Carolina? Shouldn't it be "North Carolina Fried Chicken"? Of course, the most important question would be; Why am I so confused by things such as this??? I really need a hobby! It's almost as bad as a restaurants advertising "home cooking". This really confusing to me. Does that mean the cook actually lives at the restaurant thereby making it his home or does he only live close by so he can cook the food at his home then bring it to you? Where is the truth in advertising these days???

I have to go now, I have to go learn to play the PS2 so I can help the 5yr old defeat the final boss. Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition!

Spokenfor