So I lied...

Thankfully I serve a merciful, gracious and redeeming God.

"But whoever has this world's goods and sees his brother in need, and shuts up his heart from him, how does the love of God abide in him? My little children, let us not love in word

or in tongue, but in deed and in truth..." 1 John 3:18

Last week there was a knock at my door, from a little neighborhood girl (who is all of about 11 years old) that lives not too far from me. I answered it, wondering what she must want now. She's been here before, either looking for her kid brother, or often times asking to *borrow* really random things.

I think her mom works a lot and isn't around to supervise much. My first clue was because of the way her little brother behaves and the language he uses when he's here, and my other hint is because of the really peculiar things they request. One time, the eldest sister, who is about 15/16 and a friend of theirs, who is staying with them, arrived at my door holding one baby on the hip and one toddler by the hand and asked to borrow a stroller. I was like ..really? a stroller? They don't even know me. But what ev. Go ahead, I got it out of the van for them. Then through the course of the conversation, I realized I recognized the *friend*. It was one of the teen moms I was trying to minister to back when I was volunteering at Lindberg (she has hit hard times is no longer with the "Baby Daddy" and is staying with this family for support. She had no idea that it was I that lived right down the street). It was an amazing orchestration of God's provision for this girl; and then of course, I was humbled that He allowed me to be apart of it.

Fast forward to last week and the familiar knock on the door returned. This time, I was not so humble , rather quite a bit annoyed when I answered only to be asked if I had some band-aids. Typically, I don't buy them because the boys love to use them as body art, so I quickly told her "No" and shut the door. About a second later I was overwhelmed with guilt, knowing that I did indeed have a couple of band-aids in my first aid kit in the car. But I was too lazy, too stingy and too angry to go get her even one. I felt horrible that I lied.

So. Last night I head to the store to get decorations for Mathias' birthday and pick up two sippy cups for Lucas...I figured it's about time to transition him to a cup for real (ok, ok, he's the *baby* and I'm letting him ride that wave as long as possible). Anyway, It wasn't what I intended on purchasing, but there they were.

What does this possibly have to do with this little girl you might ask? read on.

Then about an hour ago there's that little knock on the door again. This time, it's the little sister with her friend returning to ask if they can have 2 baby bottles. In my head, I was rolling my eyes at them for making such a ridiculous request, told them "sorry", that I still use all the ones I have and shut the door.

And in that split second.. AGAIN.. I realized, yes I do. I have a couple of short bottles Lucas doesn't ever use and.. da da daaaa.. I JUST bought those 2 sippy cups! So I turned back to the door and called the girls to come back. I asked if they needed the nipples and rings also, to which they replied yes. So I went and dug around a little bit and voila! Two bottles.

When I handed them to the girls, I asked what they needed them for (in all honesty I thought maybe they were playing with their baby dolls or something and wanted a dumb bottle). What they told me left me in a tail spin to which all I could do was shut the door and weep in my heart.

Apparently, a friend of theirs (NOT the same teen mom as before) got dropped off at their house unexpectedly with her 6 month old baby. The only thing they have with them was their clothes. The dad left them there (I'm guessing after a fight) and took off with all of the baby's things. ugh.

I am speechless.

Not necessarily for the situation with this young mother (sadly, this kinda of drama happens all the time). But for the provision, providence, redemption, mercy, grace, compassion, longsuffering, love and tenderness God is showing her... and me.

Boys will be boys?.. Not on my watch

So today the boys had a playmate over. There are a couple of kids that are about the same age as my boys, that live down the street a-ways. All of which I limit their time with. So today they were exuberant in (finally) having a buddy over.


There used to be even more boys that would gather at our house... but a couple of them, brothers *W* and *G*, have moved out of the area. *G* was Zach's best friend, or at least he thought so. They were only in first grade together for a couple of months, but somehow they bonded. tightly. I did everything in my power to keep them apart. I even went so far as to ask the school teacher to separate them as much as possible while at school. But still.. they were drawn together. Zach's teacher was baffled at the attraction too. She said they were miles apart in their behavior and intellect. The poor boy didn't know his birthday or phone number. And he had been held back in first grade once already. *W* and *G* were kids that could be very sweet, but were left to fend for themselves. a lot. On more than one occasion *W*, the little one, who was only 4 years old, could be found literally wandering the neighborhood alone, in the dark. One day while it was storming really bad, he showed up on my doorstep, barefoot and soaking wet, asking if my boys could come outside to play. It was heartbreaking.


Then it occurred to me to allow this boy to come over openly. Obviously he and Zach loved each other and who knows what type of good influence our family could be to this kid. So he started hanging out in the house and a couple of times I took him on errands with us. One time, on a trip to Costco he needed help tying his shoes because he didn't know how. Zach readily helped his friend. This small gestre of my child really spoke to me that day. It wasn't much too long after this picture was taken that *G* moved to another state. Zach was sad for several days. He even cried about it.

Now there is another boy who also lives down the street, *R* who used to be kinda like the 3rd wheel when *G* was around. He came over today. He was the playmate. I went against my better judgment and allowed it to happen. Without fail, every single time this kid comes over, he gets sent home for bad behavior or language. I feel bad for my kids because they get caught between their friend's antics, and their mom's rules. But guess what? I'm bigger.

It's not like they are horrible, but even minor infractions, when added up become too much. Bashing the plants, climbing on or hopping over the fence, getting into things that are not theirs, typical boy stuff. Usually, it's this kids' language that shocks me. This kid knows things that my 7 year old isn't even curious about yet, not to mention my 5 year old with his super-sonic sized ears. Today was no exception. He spouted off that he "has three titties". Gulp. Okay, now that's enough.

Now I'm not the kind of mom that places blame solely on other kids. I am fully aware that my child's behavior is completely voluntary. It's fun being naughty and to say things that are off limits. It's not so fun to get busted for it.

So I keep a close eye on things when this kid is here. I spied my boys outside today learning from the Master's hand at how to make fart noises under their armpits. And how to tackle in the mud. And how to make a skateboard swing like a teeter totter. All in good fun, they were just boys being boys. When they came inside to watch a movie, because the heat was getting too intense, I marveled at the weight of the stench that came off of this kid's sweaty feet. Way beyond his years, I tell ya. He had the smell of a man.

Now I don't feel like I shelter my kids from nearly enough. We are careful with what we allow them to be exposed to, but they have caught their fair share of curse words flowing out of their mother's mouth, have played fighting/shooting video games and have even witnessed an occasional passionate scene on TV. But for some reason, when the message comes from a little person, a kid their own age, I internally freak out.

So while *R* was here today, Ty came and told me that he and *Z* took a postcard I had and were oogling at the model, who was wearing a bra and panties. *R* was telling *Z* to 'kiss the hott lady' (in the picture), who then turned and said the same thing to his little brother. Oh great. And so it begins.

I immediately sent this kid home. Then I made *Z* confess to his dad what they had been doing. I don't want to be known as the mean old lady of the neighborhood, but really? They are 7 years old!

Needless to say *R* won't be coming over again anytime soon.

Nothing Beckons Civilization Like the Golden Arches

I've had a very long day today. very long.

I drove 3 hours (one way) to go visit/check in on my grandma. And apparently whatever wrong turn I could make today, I did, and did it with gusto! What should have taken me exactly 3 hours took me about 4 hours and 15 minutes. I wasn't lost, per se. I just got turned around a couple of times. I haven't been to her house in about a year so I was relying on all of the familiar landmarks to guide the way, as they so faithfully have for the past 7-8 years. Trouble is, almost all of the landmarks were now either covered by thick summer vegetation or completely demolished. I guess that's what happens in the country. Weeds grow and buildings collapse.

But I've decided that I need to be doing this more faithfully, going to visit her. She' getting pretty up there in years and dementia is settling in. So I suppose I'll be attempting to do the once a week visit thing. So as you can imagine, there WILL be funny stories forthcoming.

I really don't mind going up to spend time with her, but it's all of the whoopla in getting to that point that's a bother. She is NOT kid friendly, so bringing the boys is out of the question. She does like them when they are babies though (who doesn't like babies?) so *L* was warmly welcome, but I left the other two heathens at home. The big problem with her liking babies is that *L* is a big chunk and she'a kinda fraile, so although she wanted to hold him, I made her sit down with him to do it.

Anyway, I took some meals up to her and helped her get her bills organized. And before I knew it, the time had slipped away. It was nearing 9 o'clock and I still had a 3 hour drive home. Funny side note: All of the clocks in her house were wrong. She never set them when the time changed, so I thought it was an hour ealier than it really was all day. I first noticed it when I picked up my cell phone to call the house to let them know I'd be leaving. When I showed her the correct time, she didn't believe me because she didn't remember hearing about a time change. She insisted that she call the operator to find out what the REAL time was.

So as I scrambled to pack up the car, the baby patiently waited for me in his play pen. I wanted to try to get down the mountain before it was pitch black outside. But you know how it is leaving grandmas house.. she loaded me up with all kinds of stuff that she doesn't want anymore (like 9-10 pairs of jeans. And by the way, have I ever mentioned that I am the tallest person in my family at 5'9"? She's stands about 5 feet. Maybe not even that. So go figure why she gave ME some jeans. lol.)

I drove in the dark.

But before I left, I went into the loo for a quick potty break. I felt so stupid. I scared myself coming out. You see, she has a full length mirror hanging from the back of the door adjacent to the bathroom. I walked out, glanced over and saw someone standing really close to me and I jumped. duh. it was my own reflection >>eyeroll<<. And this seemed to be par for the course.

I drive down the mountain, just me and the baby, and I start to worry that I'm going to hit a deer, swerve off the side of the road and land upside down in a ravine somewhere. Yeah, I know. I've got issues. or an over active imagination. or whatever. I'm intently observing the signs and posted speed limits, but in all honesty, I can barely see anything. I had (HAD) one pair of glasses. and have 4 kids. Need I say more? So I squint.

An hour into the trek, the baby is crying, I'm talking to my sister on the phone, I'm wondering if mosquitos are biting me and I'm start to get a little panicky inside that I missed a turnoff in the dark or something. Nothing seemed to look familiar. It's a two lane country road that has very few street lamps on it. So much for my landmarks. I wondered if I should turn back and find someone to ask directions. But alas, all that was out were hitch hikers. One especailly caught my eye. One, because it was still like 90* outside and he was wearing a poncho and long pants, but even more than that, he looked like Richard Ramirez. Uh no thanks. I have a full tank of gas. I'll just keep driving.

And then, up ahead. I see it. The Golden Arches. Perfect. I didn't even care if I had been driving in the wrong direction for the last 30 minutes. I could get it all straightened out now. There were live people working. humans. deep breath in: deep breath out.

In one fell swoop, I got directions, a large coke to keep me awake and milk for the baby. I'm telling ya, they need to put those arches up in place of lighthouses on the coast.

Chasing Down Coupons

I've been keeping busy these days with Extreme Couponing. Well, that's what I call it anyways. I collect about 3-4 sets of Sunday paper coupon inserts every week and scour the circulars and ads for the best deals. I then buy the items I find the best deals on en mass. The idea behind it is that you purchase large quantities of items (basically stock pile) at a really cheap price. Later on down the road, you've actually saved money. Anyway, shopping this way has become quite thrilling for me. Hunting down bargains and watching my savings grow has been intoxicating.



I dunno what exactly is more interesting to me: the hunting/gathering aspect; the filling of my cupboards and feeling like I have *enough* aspect; the rush I get when I see my receipt's bottom line of my savings??... all of it, I suppose.


Either in the solitude of wandering the aisles or late at night literally clipping coupons, I've learned a lot about myself and my own personal hangups. One being that, in my world, *stock piling* can teeter on the verge of hoarding. It's very easy for me to get into purchasing things that I most likely would never use, just because it's cheap.

Case in point: I had carried around two coupons for $3 off medicated hemorrhoid butt wipes. This in itself is ridiculously funny. Why was I hanging on to them though? Because they were *high value* coupons! I finally found the *Tucks* for $2.72 each. You can imagine my delight.. Yes! I would get the wipes for free! How thrilling. But did I need them? no. Does anyone in my household need them? no. But I couldn't bring myself to pass up this deal. After 4 weeks of carrying Polident denture adhesive coupons around in my folder, I finally gave up the fight and threw the coupons out. But it was a hard decision. >>Big fat eyeroll at myself<<.

"Now godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into [this] world, [and] [it is] certain we can carry nothing out. And having food and clothing, with these we shall be content. But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and [into] many foolish and harmful lusts which drown men in destruction and perdition. For the love of money is a root of all [kinds of] evil, for which some have strayed from the faith in their greediness, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows. But you, O man of God, flee these things and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, gentleness..."

1 Timothy 6:6-11

So today, I head on over to the store and make my coupon purchase. I came home almost giddy at how little I spent and I reviewed my receipt. I noticed that the total was far less than what I anticipated it to be. Now wonder I was happy...But upon taking a closer look, I found the error. The coupon scanned for higher value to be taken off than what it said in print directly on the coupon. The coupon was only for $4, but it rang in as taking $5.99 off. Yay for me! right?

Wrong.

In all honesty, I don't know if it was a computer glitch, or the clerk making a mistake. I think it was the latter. Regardless, I felt obligated to go back to the store and set things right. If I were to tell you that it didn't cross my mind to keep the overage, I'd be lying. It did. and not only did I not want to go thru the hassle of returning to the store for a measly two bucks, I secretly wanted to *stick it to the man*. I mean, really...how often does the store find and error and come to me to correct it? um.. never!?! Quite the opposite actually. When they make a mistake, I again have to go in and get an adjustment and somehow feel like I'm the bad guy for asking for it to be corrected.

So in the hour or so that I sat on the fence deciding whether or not to go back to the store, this phrase kept popping up in my head:

Pursue Righteousness.

Simple.

P U R S U E R I G H T E O U S N E S S.

Then I wondered.. how far would people go to ACTUALLY pursue righteousness? How far will I go?

I went back to the store with my receipt in hand, not knowing whom I should speak with. I was earnestly worried that if I went to Customer Service, pointing out the error, the clerk would get into trouble for the mistake or her till would be off. I wound up speaking to the clerk directly about the transaction and she said that it was ok. The computer was at fault and that it wouldn't get her into any kind of trouble. Happy accident.

When I came home, I looked into the Bible to see what that phrase means. To me, specifically. And those verses are what I got. Pretty heavy stuff, I'd say.

Much more valuable than the $1.99 I got in error, that's for sure.

Cents and Sensibilities

Prom season has come upon our house, which means lots of shopping, glitter hair spray and lipstick.

Prom was Saturday and as of Friday Airenne had the dress, but no shoes to go with and no time to go shopping. She had her usual school schedule with a soccer game and track meet crammed in between. So I did what any mother would do who had a camera on her cell phone. I went virtual shopping.

The plus side of having a daughter that is tall is that we can share our wardrobe. Ok, well, usually she wears my clothes and I wear her shoes, for obvious reasons...it just works out better that way. But for shopping purposes, it's great. I was able to go into a couple of stores, gather up a few pairs of shoes that were .. ahem.. *acceptable* and try them on to make sure they had her size. I then took a picture of each of them and sent it to her via picture mail. She sent me the picture back of the ones she liked best. And viola! shoe shopping done. I figured we'd go shopping "for real" early Saturday morning, before her hair appointment to actually try them on and pick them up.

But as I was leaving the pavilion, I started doubting my choices for her. She and I don't always have similar taste.. but on these shoes, we did agree. The dress was a little black number with cut outs in the back. It had tuxedo tucks and light sequins along the neckline. She fit it perfectly. Anyway, the shoes we picked out were very sexy. Almost too sexy, but perfect for this dress. I wasn't sure if they were appropriate for an almost 17 year old. But I knew they would look great on an almost 35 year old.

And that got me to thinking..."If I buy these shes for her, I can wear them later with a cute pair of jeans or something.. Ah, who am I kidding, I'd probably never really wear those. I'd be too tall in them... where would I wear them to... they'll end up giving me blisters..." yada yada. I began to talk myself out of them before I even purchased them. I told myself that I was too old to worry about looking *hot*. I'll just stick with my boring, flat, brown, sensible shoes. You know, the ones every mom has. Easy to slip on, comfortable. ugly.

I couldn't believe it. I was actually... CONSCIOUSLY having a moment where I was giving in. Giving up. Literally, I allowed myself to pass from a stylistically verging, thirty-something year old woman... into a frump. I expected it to be a slow fade, but this day.. it went full throttle into the dumps. Christine was put in the back seat.

Not too long ago, at a Christmas sale, I spied a pair of ruby red, patent leather Mary-Jane stilettos... And I bought them! I was so proud of myself. I felt like I was on my way back from a land far far away, where I looked and smelled like everyone else and said all the *right things*. These shoes would be my ticket outta that place.. back to where I "used to live". Where a Little Bit of Sexy neighbored with Ms. Responsible. I wanted to go home. Get out of my minivan life and meet up with myself for a long drive on the coast, top down, hair whipping in the wind.

Sigh.

But I have yet to wear these exquisite shoes anywhere but my bedroom. Wait...that didn't come out right. I mean, I have not worn them yet in public. I knew they would look fabulous with the right outfit. But every time I think about wearing them, I talk myself out of it. I mean really, these shoes are fierce. The ooze "Christine". But I feel funny about walking out of the house with them on. Who am I to be wearing these? I mean, I'm a mom. And I haven't worn heels in so long, I probably would trip over myself in them.

Yesterday bright and early, I took *A* to check out a couple of more places before we settled on the purchase of the black sandals. Then from the bottom shelf, a pair of sweet baby pink high heeled beauties called my name. LOUDLY. I seriously gasped with joy when I saw these shoes. I put them on and strutted around the store with them almost the entire time that *A* was checking out her options. They fit like Cinderella's glass slippers, I felt so pretty in them. I was this close >.< to buying them. Even *A* said that if they make me feel that pretty, then I should buy them.

Then I looked at the price tag and felt defeated. dangit. They were more than I was willing to spend, especially considering that we were supposed to be shopping for *A*'s shoes, not mine. So I put them back. And slipped my old comfy brown shoes back on. We did end up buying her the first pair of sexy shoes we'd agreed on, and maybe, just maybe.. you'll see me around town with them on.