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We had some friends over tonight and this story came up.
So I might as well rerun it.
From August 2008.
The kiddos were ages 1, 2, 3 and 4. Which is simply absurd.
I just have to say right off the bat that I am not at the laughing stage of this. Not yet. I may be tomorrow. When I told the story tonight at my supposed-to-be-a-bible-study-but-really-more-of-a-chatfest I almost smiled.
But not quite. I am not quite there.
Here's what happened.
This morning. 9am. I am in bed, still half asleep, half reading my bible and asking God to send his Holy Spirit to please help me to be less mean today than I felt like being yesterday. Walker is with the kids, letting me have this time. He is home because, due to Eduard -
AND REALLY, YOU DON'T WANT TO GET ME STARTED ON HOW I FEEL ABOUT ALL THE HYPE SURROUNDING A WIMPY TROPICAL STORM AND HOW THE MEDIA WANTS ANOTHER KATRINA SO STINKIN BAD THAT THEY ARE GOING TO ACT LIKE EVERY DUMB RAINCLOUD IS A CAT 60 HURRICANE UNTIL THEY GET ONE -
- Walker thought he was going to stay home today, but by 9am when it was barely sprinkling he decided he could brave the seven minute commute to work and therefore, came in to get me up.
So, he comes in, turns on the hot water for his shower, lathers up his face with shaving cream while I do the brush teeth, put on deodorant, meet the day routine I do each and every morning. Then I walked out into the breakfast room.
Now, you would think that, after several years as a multipara, I would be used to the barrage that greets me every morning. But I am not. I don't think I ever shall be. The Proverbs 32 woman doesn't really want to be spoken to first thing in the am. She likes to gradually begin her day, preferably with no conversation until she has had a strong cup of coffee.
Slow waker, meet four preschoolers.
Aye yi yi. They so don't fulfill my needs in this area.
As soon as I walk in the breakfast room, I am met with the normal barrage of MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY'S UP! HI MOMMY! I LOVE YOU MOMMY! CAN WE HAVE CANDY FOR STAYING IN BED? DADDY DIDN'T FEED US BRESTFAST! I'M HUNGRY MOMMY! CAN I HAVE A VITAMIN MOMMY? DADDY GAVE ME BANANAS! SHEPPY HIT ME MOMMY! SHE HIT ME FIRST MOMMY! WHERE ARE WE GOING TODAY MOMMY?
And, just like every morning, I look at them, shiver, press my hands to my eyes, mumble "hi, hi, love you, I dunno, give me a minute, hi" and grope towards the coffee pot.
Only this morning was a little different because the amongst the barrage I heard, I WENT POOPOO IN THE POTTY MOMMY! COME LOOK!
Now, Eva Rose is still new enough at this that it still deserves a declaration, a viewing, a hug, some praise, and a piece of candy. And truly, considering the long hard road we traveled to get here, she may still be earning a piece of candy in high school.
So, I delay the coffee pot quest briefly to attend to the poop-praising quest.
And I saw that there was something amiss. For there was indeed poop, in the potty.
And, on the potty seat.
And, on the floor -?
My eyes followed the trail...straight to the crawling baby who gazed up at me so lovingly....with a mouth full of poop.
His sister's poop.
That he had reached into the toilet to retrieve.
IN MY BABY'S MOUTH. And DRIPPING DOWN HIS CHIN.
I screamed. Loudly. He screamed. Loudly. I grabbed him and - my arms outstretched - ran him back to the bathroom where my husband is trying to shave.
"TAKE HIM! TAKE HIM! HE ATE SISSY'S POOP! IT'S NOT FUNNY! HELP ME!"
He gave me that, I'm covered in shaving cream trying to shave here, what do you want me to do? look.
"THIS IS A CRISIS!!!" I shout and order him into the shower with our son, who is still screaming. Poor Ike, I poured a cup of water in his mouth, he sputtered, screamed, I poured another. And another. I am sure he thought he was the victim of what Congress has deemed not to be torture. But, what else was I supposed to do? How else does one remove poop from a one year old's mouth??
Walker, face of shaving cream, got in the shower with him, and washed him off as well as he could.
Meanwhile I ran from the bathroom and, of course, immediately googled 'MY BABY ATE POOP' and instead of sordid tales of e-coli, I found it to be a fairly common and typically harmless occurrence. (Seriously, how did people mother before google?)
I breathe. And begin to clean poop from toilet, floor, and wall. And field questions and demands from the others. And throw up just a little bit.
Oh, and did I mention Maggie was screaming bloody murder from her crib this whole time? Maggie was screaming bloody murder from her crib this whole time.
I retrieve Maggie, gave her some breakfast. Walker brought in a clean-as-could-get Ike, who was exhausted enough now to be put down for a nap.
And finally, finally, I got my cup of coffee.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
I'm still only slightly giggling.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
31 Days Closer to a New Home: The Rugs
Y'all, it's a bona fide miracle that not only do I have my camera, but my computer is working, and I am awake. And I found the cord to connect my camera. So let's ride this wave before she falls asleep in front of a Frontline documentary while playing Words With Friends.
Last night my camera was MIA again. This morning, Ike knew exactly where it was, he's just so helpful. He'd also taken some photos for y'all. He's very into decorating. Notice his budding skillz both as decorator and photographer.
He calls this one "Couch"
"Rug...with Ballet Bag" by Ike Dollahon
"New Beginnings" by Ike Dollahon
All are available for purchase, y'all. A must have for your collection. Special price for YOU, pretty lady!
Maggie was sweet enough to take a photo of the photographer.
He is such a stinker. Can't you tell? He's going to be the death of me. The death of my sanity anyway.
This rug
is the one that I saw originally but didn't buy because I was with my mom, and I just can't drop any money on a rug with Frieda there watching. Even though my goal has been to finance the majority of this redo with the money I've made from selling everything but my soul/kids on Craig's List (so far, so good) I still am afraid that my mom will yell at me for spending $200 on a rug the same way she yelled at me when I spent $40 on that blue swimsuit at Lord & Taylor back in seventh grade. Back when $40 was an expensive swimsuit. Back when $40 was like, two tanks of gas. Back when I used to walk a mile each way to school in the snow wearing a very pretty blue swimsuit from Lord & Taylor.
When I got back to Home Goods it was on clearance y'all! For $135, which is cheap!
Problem is, when I put it down, I thought it looked kinda, well, cheap.
Even though it matched my pillows fabulously
I just couldn't make myself love it. So long, cheap rug.
I rolled and unrolled and huffed and puffed and considered Contender Number Two.
I like it. It's very pretty.
Maybe.
Huff, puff, roll, unroll, Contender Three:
I fell in love.
I'd tell you that it was the most expensive rug but you already knew that, didn't you? Don't tell Frieda, k?
But look at it! The flaffers!!
Every time I see it I feel like busting out in this song:
Wearing a pretty blue bathing suit.
Check out the other great "31 Days Closer to..." series:
Monday, May 16, 2011
31 Days Closer to a New Home: Day LOSER!!
For the record, I did try to blog last week but Blogger was down. I also could not update my status on facebook and for a while I was quite concerned that this was the Apocalypse because I'm pretty sure I read about both of those being end time signs in Revelation. Or else I saw that real real late once on TBN. But we're still here and Jesus is not, so I guess y'all have some more time to work out your issues. Praise the Lord.
Speaking of TBN, our buddy Dave (you know, Dave) was on there last week being interviewed by Kirk Cameron and after our torture of sorting through hours of The PTL Club, we were absolutely delighted with the interview, all because of the way that Dave managed to keep on being funny after it became evident that Mike Seaver has ZERO sense of humor. I did not have a teenage crush on him (Jason Bateman had already stolen my heart) but if y'all did, this interview will probably be evidence that it wouldn't have worked out anyway.
Anyhow.
Despite the fact that all May has broken loose I am proud to say that I got something done today.
You should know that almost every night the two people who live inside my brain have a long conversation that keeps me awake. Tired Supportive Missy says, "Just tell Sandy you can't do this 31 Day thing. It's okay. Your sweet readers will not hold it against you. It's been a crazy month for 42 different reasons. You can quit. It's okay." Then Crazy, Slightly Emotionally Abusive Missy replies, "No you can't quit, you LOSER! You LOSER QUITTER! Just do one thing each day! Just one stupid thing!! Gah! You're such a BABY! I'm embarrassed to even share a brain with you!!"
Crazy Emotionally Abusive Missy has been winning.
Seriously, I can't handle it when she talks to me that way.
I know that's her idea of a pep talk, and it is indeed inspiring, but she's really hurts my feelings sometimes. Sometimes she even makes Tired Supportive Missy cry.
Y'all are schizophrenic too, right? I mean I'm not the only one whose brain has conversations with its own self, am I?
The schizophrenia probably also explains why my DVR holds everything (well, not everything) from The PTL Club to "Becoming Chaz," aka, Two Whole Hours of My Life I'll Never Get Back.
Okay, back to decorating.
Last week I hauled my apprentice Maggie with me to Home Goods to buy a rug. I had come for one I'd seen the week before, but when I was there - lo, I saw two more that were oh so pretty. So I did what any estrogen blooded American woman would do.
I bought all three.
Today I unrolled each one and huffed and puffed the sectional each time to see which one I liked best.
Oh, did I tell you I got a new sectional? Well I did. Off Craig's List. It's nice. It's a neutral tweed that will be Hard To Stain. It has recliners, seriously, how have I lived my whole life without a reclining couch?? And the old lady smell is 90% gone from it already.
******** Here is the part where I was supposed to show you the pictures of all the rugs.
Except when I just went to get my camera to download the pictures, it had mysteriously disappeared.
I have a sinking suspicion that the culprit looks like this
He looks all sweet and innocent, huh? HA.
He is also in bed and there is nothing I can do about it except listen to them start up again. LOSER!!! You're such a LOSER!!!
Sigh.
I'll show you tomorrow.
I'm off to bed now.
With my DVR. Walker is out of town...hopefully Tired Supportive Missy will be the one to join me in his place.
Check out the other great "31 Days Closer to..." series:
Monday, May 9, 2011
31 One Days Closer to a New Home - Day 8: Let me introduce you to my decorator
And I still have the crud.
Maybe it's because as of Saturday, I am no longer 40 but officially "in my 40s" that I can't kick this crud like I coulda when I was a mere babe of 39. All I know is that today was our first oh-my-word-why-do-I-live-here-it's-so-hot day in Houston, and I had chills whilst standing in the 95 degree heat at swim practice. Which would be nice if I didn't also feel like 95 degree spit.
How was Mother's Day for y'all? For the first time ever, my birthday fell the day before Mother's Day. I had an awesome weekend but it whipped me. Friday night Walker took me to Mark's, one of our favorite restaurants, and then Saturday we had tickets to the best show in town, starring this little lady:
and that night we had supper club with awesome old friends. Busy. And did I mention I am sick. And old. Sick and old.
So since I spent most of today lying around as much as possible, let's focus on past victories, shall we?
So, y'all, I cheated a little, because I started working on this home makeover business about halfway through April. Which was a good thing since I've been a whining aching coughing mess for most of May thus far.
First off, some of you have asked why I am redoing my crib and getting rid of perfectly good furniture. It's all because I am a stay at home mom. Which means that I have been looking at the same stuff for approximately 4,440 days now, and I'm just flat out tard of it.
When I first started decorating this house, I was very into big and dark. Maybe because I looked like this at the time?
Now I am into light and bright.
I wish I could say that's because I currently look light and bright myself, but...one makeover at a time, y'all.
Okay first off, do y'all know about Pinterest? Pinterest is where you can very easily "pin" photos you like that you see online, which comes in mighty handy if you are, like, trying to redo your house in 31 days or something crazy like that. Y'all can see all the things I am fancying here.
And if you look very long at my boards, you will see that I am a little obsessed at the moment with painted furniture.
And you might say to yourself, "Wow, if I didn't know any better, I'd say Missy was a little Nester copycat."
There's a very good reason for that.
It's cuz I've turned into a little Nester copycat.
Several years ago, my pride would have never let me be a copycat of anyone. But I'm old now and low on pride plus I have, in the past, burst into tears staring at paint chips at Lowe's. So
I love The Nester's style. So I am just pretending that I am hiring her to redecorate my house, for very, very cheap.
My walls were painted a shade that I have long forgotten the proper name of so I just referred to it as "egg yolk."
So, my decorator really, really loves the color Tobacco Road, and she talked me into it.
I am either incredibly optimistic, or incredibly stupid, because I always think that I can paint a room, any room, in about half a day. One Tuesday I said, "I'll have this done before the kids are home from school!" and took another whiff off my crack pipe.
Then I remembered that this room has four doors, two entrances, and six windows. Took several days and half a DVR to complete. But now that it is done, I agree with her, I just love the color.
It pops so pretty with the white.
And it looks very nice with my new painted furniture, which I'll tell you all about tomorrow. Oh Theraflu....
Check out the other great "31 Days Closer to..." series:
Friday, May 6, 2011
31 One Days Closer to a new home - day 5: How I Got Engaged
Another day, another empty space.
The red couch
Shabby chic, great condition
has found a new home. And once again, I got a little welly, because something sort of crucial happened on the red couch.
Sitting on it, I mean.
So the last event to happen in our love story was that he put the purple bunny ears upon his head and proceeded to copy my bible study and then I fell in love. Right there. At the table, not on the table.
But there was a problem, in that I was dating White Shirt.
When you are 30ish and been a-prayin and a-prayin for the Lord to bring you your future baby daddy, if you then commence to dating someone who happens to be nice and cute with an awesome Jesus resume, you automatically think they must be The One. I mean, why would God have you waste your time and ovum otherwise?? So even if you and Supposed One drive each other bananas you rationalize that it is simply God revealing your sin to you. The sin of being too picky, too high maintenance, blah blah blah blah blah BLAH. And whoa, was I sinful because wow, my relationship with White Shirt was driving me up the cotton picking wall. And I'm positive the feeling was mutual, bless his heart.
(It is now my opinion that planning a wedding, getting a big hairy man as a permanent roommate, having inlaws, and raising babies will reveal your sin to you in 43,000,000 different ways. Dating, however, should be FUN!! So if the dating part just crazy stinkin hard? Well...is your best friend single?)
Ergo. I spent some time complaining to Black Shirt about my relationship. And Black Shirt started thinking, specifically, at a Superbowl party at White Shirt's house, 'Man, Missy's so cool, White Shirt is stupid not to marry her.' And then he started thinking, 'Man, Missy's so cool, maybe...maybe...'
That went on for a couple of months, me completely oblivious to his budding feelings, complaining about my unfulfilling relationship, as Walker pined away, aching in a sea of misery, sobbing to sleep every night in a fetal position crying WHHHHHHHYYYYYYYY?
Or, you know, something close to that.
Then, one evening in April, he sat at my then beautiful art deco antique kitchen table and put on the bunny ears.
Then I got so confused and started crying a lot and praying a lot and was basically a complete basket case.
Then he came over to my house one night, sat on my couch (not the red couch, a green couch, one that we literally could not give away at a garage sale) and told me that if I weren't dating White Shirt that he would kiss me right now.
And then I moved to the other end of the couch because I knew that if I did not physically move myself I would completely jump his bones.
And then he thought I was wildly offended and sputtered and apologized and left.
And then I cried some more and prayed some more and became resolved that I was going to marry Black Shirt, aka, Walker Dollahon.
True red with slight brocade design
Then he sent me an email apologizing, saying his behavior was totally inappropriate and we should only hang out in groups.
And then I rolled my eyes because I already knew I was gonna be Mrs. Black Shirt but I emailed back, you're right, absolutely Mr. Darcy, I forgive you for your egregious behavior.
So then I organized an entire huge dinner for about 15 of our friends just so I could see him. In a group.
And then he ended up breaking his own rule by walking to my car and saying, "Let's go get a glass of wine at your house" so we did and he told me I should break up with White Shirt.
So, yeah, I broke up with White Shirt.
That was May 3, 2002.
Two days later, Walker went on a date - YES, he was on a DATE WITH ANOTHER GIRL - that had been planned before yeah yeah yeah to see Dave Matthews Band. This girl really dug his cookies but he had never really clicked with her, even though she was very pretty. And she was always very, rude to me, by the way. Not that that matters, except, it did make me smile a little evil smile and give her an extra big hug at my wedding. So that night he took home pretty little confused blown-off her as quickly as he could after the concert, and raced over to my house.
And finally, we kissed.
(Link) View more The Lion King Sound Clips and Movie Theme Song Sound Clips
After we kissed a couple or twenty times I walked him to the door and we were doing the sweet long smiley stand in the doorway staring in each other's eyes goodnight ritual that you do when you are all lovey dovey gushy mushy. It went like this:
Walker: Good night...
Missy: Good night...
Walker: Call you tomorrow...
Missy: Okay...
Walker: Have a good day at work tomorrow...
Missy: Okay you too...
Walker: I love you.
Missy: {STUNNED SILENCE. EYES WIDE.}
Walker: {DEER IN HEADLIGHTS LOOK. EYES WIDE.}
Walker: Heh. Heh heh. I um, didn't mean to say that.
Missy: I think you better come back inside.
We walked back in and sat on the red couch.
Removable washable slipcovers
Walker: What I meant was, I love you (punches my shoulder) I mean, you're my buddy, you're Missy, you're my pal (he pats me on the head. Literally. He patted me on the head.)
Missy: (stares in stunned disbelief)
Walker: No. No. You know what, I do. I love you. I do. I really love you.
Missy: (staring in stunned disbelief) I love you too.
Walker: Okay. Let's get married.
Missy: (staring in stunned disbelief) Okay.
All this happened, nine years ago, TONIGHT - on Cinco de Mayo, 2002.
I got $125 for the couch. Not bad, eh?
A great addition to any home
Check out the other great "31 Days Closer to..." series:
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Is it taking a really long time for my blog to load?
Okay, it is. I emailed Jackie the Genius to figure out why.
And I know I owe y'all the Red Couch Story, but I have the crud.
And some Theraflu is calling my name.
And the season finale of Big Love.
I'll return soon, I promise!!
Monday, May 2, 2011
31 One Days Closer to a new home - day 2: How I fell in Love
I didn't get as much done today as I anticipated. My goal was to tackle the c word - CLUTTER - but a friend came over rather impromptu and we sat on the couch (a red couch, keep that in mind for later) and discussed adoption for a couple of hours. Now girltalk is my favorite hobby so I am not sad I did it, my de-c-wording took a hit.
OH - and today was the first day of the rest of my life as a Swim Team Mom. I have avoided swim team for as long as I could, because Hello! daily practice and Hello Hello! meets every Saturday. But we've taken the plunge, HAHAHHAHAHA get it. (Remember the Nestea commercials where the guy falls into the pool?) (FOCUS MISSY) Anyway, I am only insisting that my kids do two things: learn to swim properly and learn the play piano. Aside from that, they can be losers. But with God as my witness, they will be winners at swimming and reading music.
So while I am still drowning in clutter (you think I jest, I'll post pictures) I DID accomplish two missions. Here's proof:
My husband is standing in an empty place.
BECAUSE I SOLD MY DINING TABLE ON CRAIG'S LIST. Whoo hooo!!
The ad went a little something like this:
Antique deco drop leaf table - $125
This table was, at one point in it's life, just absolutely gorgeous.
And then I had kids.
And if you've ever wondered how much damage 4 kids, some spilt milk (cried over it) and some Crayola markers can do to a gorgeous piece of furniture, I'm here to testify. A lot.
It is deco, the thing is huge, it's 4'2 x 3'2, the leaves add an extra 39 inches.
It has an diamond pattern on the top of inlaid wood. Then the diamond pattern is repeated in the base. There is a brass rod that runs across the bottom.
I have never seen anything this unique since I bought it. It's just beautiful, but it is gonna need some major TLC to restore it to it's former glory and therefore (exhale) I'm only asking $125 for it. Or (exhale again) best offer.
Dang kids.
Since Craig's List photos look like they were taken by a drunk monkey, I'm happy to email or text you better ones.
I got $60 for it.
Exhale.
But it's gone. And as the
Back in the day I used to have a very fancy sit down dinner every Christmas. I made ossobucco at this one. Ossobucco is Italian for expensive and incredibly time consuming but oh sweet veal shank it's worth it.
I think I'll make that again this Christmas.
bahahahahahahhahahah!!! as if.
But look, who's that cute young man in the black shirt on the left?
If you guessed my boyfriend, you'd be mistaken. My boyfriend was the the guy on his right in the white shirt. There's probably loads of symbolism what with the black shirt/white shirt there but I'm gonna let it pass.
The main reason this table is so special to me is because it is where I fell in love with Walker.
Well, as Walker pointed out awkwardly as the guy was determining if he should buy it, not ON it, but you know, sitting at it. Ahem.
About three months after the ossobucco, I was still dating white shirt but starting to have some serious doubts that he was Mr. Missy. Unbeknownst to me, Black Shirt, aka, my best guy friend/my buddy/my pal was starting to have serious thoughts that he actually might be Mr. Missy.
Never trust the best friend, y'all.
Black Shirt and I were Bible Study Fellowship leaders together (in a singles co-ed group) and one week we had to have two lessons done for our Monday night leaders' meeting. On Sunday, I got a phone call - it was Black Shirt. He asked if I had done my lessons, and I said I'd done one and was going to do the other one that night. Then he said, "I'm going to Starbucks to do the other one - then I'm coming over to your house, and we'll copy." I said okay.
Now, you BSF ladies out there, pick yourselves up off the floor. {Can someone please get her a defibrillator?} Yes, we cheated on our BSF homework. And we were leaders. But Jesus' blood covers even THAT sin, right? Right??
So, he came over. Since it was Easter time, and since I was a PreKindergarten teacher, I wore bunny ears at all times. The purple bunny ears were lying on my kitchen table.
Black Shirt sat down at my table with the contraband BSF notes. He took one look at the bunny ears, and did what any normal person would do - he put them on his head and proceeded to cheat at bible study.
And instantly, it was like Cupid shot an arrow PINGGGGGGGGGG right to my heart. I fell in love with him RIGHT THERE. Right on my kitchen table. I mean, not on it, but you know, sitting at it. Ahem.
Problem was, well, White Shirt.
Which brings us to the red couch.
Which I'll tell you about tomorrow.
31 One Days Closer to A NEW HOME and a GIVEAWAY!!
Sandy, my darling Sandy, do you know Sandy?? She's over at God Speaks Today. Sandy sent me a email couple weeks ago that said essentially, "Hey, I'm starting this blog thing where you do something life-changing in May, wanna join me?" My first thought was, "Get thee behind me, Sandy."
But, then I got to thinking about how I had recently decided that, since we can't move like I want to for a variety of reasons, I'm just gonna make my old house new. And how I have a tendency to let projects draaaaaaaaaaaag ouuuuuuuuuuuuuut. And how wonderful it would be to be under pressure from both Sandy, crazy disciplined taskmaster (just kidding, she is crazy disciplined, but she's a doll) and from YOU, crazy blog readers.
About how maybe if I had to report on here every day, I'd actually accomplish Just One Thing every day.
About how I could look at 'before and after' blogs till the cows come home, and about how I bet y'all could too. And then I got all tingly thinking I might even get to BE on one of those blogs, like this one, and how groovy cool that would be.
About how I could look at 'before and after' blogs till the cows come home, and about how I bet y'all could too. And then I got all tingly thinking I might even get to BE on one of those blogs, like this one, and how groovy cool that would be.
So when she emailed me because I hadn't replied and asked me if I was in, I took a deep breath and typed, okay.
I'm goin in.
She got me a cute lil button and ev-ery-thang.
Because Sandy is all crazy organized she got a bunch of other ladies to join her, and they all got their posts up last night or this morning, and it's almost 10pm and I've already gotten emails and texts from Sandy asking if I'm okay because why else would my blog post not be up? Certainly not just because I'm unorganized and undisciplined!
(And then Osama got hisself killed and now it's almost midnight.)
(And then Osama got hisself killed and now it's almost midnight.)
This could be a long month.
AND THERE'S GIVEAWAYS!!! WHOOOOO HOOOOO!!!!
I'll get to that in a minute, but for now, here's the other ladies who are joining me:
31 Days Closer to Hearing God's Voice
(Listen up!)
(Listen up!)
God speaks to us. He wants us to sit at His feet and let His Words wash over us. But sometimes, a whole lotta junk gets in the way of us actually hearing what He has to say. Over the next 31 days, we are going to practice getting our baggage out of the ways so that our heart is prepared to listen to what He has to say.
31 Days Closer to Your Kids
(I'm pretty psyched about this one)
Maintaining a relationship with our kids is not always automatic, and just because they live under our roof doesn’t mean we’re always connecting with them. Over the next 31 days, I’ll share some practical tips to help you grow closer to your kids.
31 Days Closer to the Life You Always Wanted
Since cancer threatened to take the life I had, I decided that any days I lived beyond cancer would be dedicated to creating the life I want to live. If you've ever thought: One day I will ... scrapbook, organize my pantry, create cute looks on a lean budget, adopt a baby from Ethiopia, look toned on the beach or read my Bible all the way from Genesis to Revelation or any other big or little someday thought, this series is for you.
31 Days Closer to A Cuter You
(I don't need this one, since I could not get any cuter.) (Bahahaha)
Have you had that moment yet? You know the one where you unexpectedly catch a glimpse of yourself in a mirror? Yeah…THAT one. If you grimaced instead of grinned, join me for the next 31 days for 31 tips and tricks to tweak your look and come closer to a cuter you!
31 Days Closer to Health, Wellness and Bathing Suit Season
(you don't need this one, do you? Me neither.) (Bahahahahaha)
It’s the little things. All the little things you do in a day either contribute to your health …or not. Whether your goal is to feel better, drop a few pounds or just strut more confidently in your bathing suit, we’ll cover all the little things you can do to get closer to your goal by June 1st!
Cool stuff, no??
OKAY - here's the giveaway part.
Rules, schmools:
To be eligible for the giveaway, you must tell someone about the “31 Day Closer to” series by telling friends about it:
- on your blog
- on Facebook
- on Twitter
- by e-mailing all your friends. And even people you don't like.
- Then leave a comment on the blog saying that you did.
- One entry/comment per person, and comment must be on the blog, not on Facebook.
- But you may enter once on each blog (for a total of 6 entries possible) (so get your clickers clickin!)
- Entries must be submitted by Midnight on Monday, May 2nd.
- Winners will be announced Wednesday, May 4th.
My blog's prize: $25 Ikea Gift Card
Alrighty then! See ya on the flippity flip!
See ya on the flippity flip!
See ya on the flippity flip!
See ya on the flippity flip!
See ya on the flippity flip!
Oh my skull it's late.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
If you want to bash adoption, bring it.
Just got another adoption hater comment, which I promptly deleted, because that's what I do with nasty ignorant comments. I trash them.
But my justice-o-meter wants to hunt them down, tie them in a chair, and show them pictures of orphanages where babies don't even have diapers so they crawl around in their own waste, where the children who leave often walk straight into the sex trade. Then I'd pull out some pie charts of AIDS and mortality rates in these countries, since they clearly show that the kids will quite possibly meet the same fate as their parents soon.
After that, I'd find some really graphic photos of children who've been beaten almost to death by their birth parents here in the States. I'll show the xrays of my CASA three month old baby girl with skull fractures on three sides of her head that the doctor said came from being bashed against a wall. Repeatedly. By her birthmother. I'll also bust out an article about, oh so many to chose, how about the little 6 year old Houston girl whose birthmother allowed her boyfriend to kill her. Then I'll top it off with the autopsy report showing the genital herpes raiding her little body.
Maybe, MAYBE, these people who think they are such victims would see what a true victim is and become a little less myopic.
Then, I'd like to force them to write a 30,000 word essay about why those homes are better than the Dollahon house.
Since I can't do that, I'll just vent to you.
Oh, and for the record adoption bashers, I was adopted.
And I'm thankful for that every day.
Oh - PS. The hole in your heart is not from being adopted. The hole in your heart is from being separated from God. Trust me on this one. No amount of adoption bashing is gonna fill it.
PPS - those of you who are dumbfounded by why anyone would be against adoption:
Some believe that children losing their home culture is a travesty. They are right. About some of it. But some aspects of some cultures are deadly and don't seem to be changing anytime soon. And if these children were to stay in that culture, the chances of them being dead in a few years are pretty stinking high. Crazy me, I think survival is more important than culture.
I wish with all my heart that there was no need for adoption.
I wish that all babies were born to loving, delighted homes with a mom and dad who had the financial, emotional, and physical support to parent them.
I wish parents never died.
I wish there was no AIDS.
I wish there was no poverty.
I wish there was no child abuse.
I wish there were no orphanages.
I wish I were utterly ignorant of terms like 'infant mortality' and 'pedophilia' and 'kwashiorkor' and 'radical attachment disorder' and 'child prostitution.'
But this is not the world we live in, as you all know.
Many believe that adoption should be a last resort, after the birthparents who want their kids have been given the resources they need to parent. Sounds fantastic to me. (Crazy thing is, resources overfloweth in America, yet we still have over 100,000 orphans. Hm.)
Until that happens, we have a crisis of orphans in this world. We have a crisis of foster children in this country. Millions and millions and millions of children are alone in an evil world that would love to use them to suit its evil purposes.
So until Jesus comes back or Utopia magically appears, I'm gonna be momma to as many mommaless kiddos as God and my husband allow me to.
Bash away.
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