Playing Soccer with the Boys

There is just something about running around a soccer field with a pack on 9 year old boys to make you feel better about yourself.

We were a kid short of a real scrimmage so I had to play. It was kind of hard...to play my position and simulatiously coach the boys. Remembering which ones to play hard against and which ones to take it easy on. I've got to say, I don't really have to take it easy on many of them!

I should also probably wear shin guards if I'm playing with them. I have 3 (count them, 3!) knots on my legs. One on the back of my calf so shin guards wouldn't have done me much good on that one......

Anyhow....while my entire body aches from running that much when I'm kind of out of shape....for 45 minutes I didn't think about anything other than soccer.

And that was kind of nice.

Social Outcast

Have you ever had a dream so horrible that when you wake up, you feel like people looking at you must just know all about it?

I woke up this morning (after a mostly sleepless night anyway since Celia woke up a million times) from terrible dream. I still can't wear my contacts because my eyes are so dry and irritated. I got out of the shower and could barely squeeze into my jeans (due to the large amount of peanut m&m's I've been consuming in a feeble attempt to ease my emotional distress). Thank God for stretch denim and tunic shirts. My hair was also not cooperative.

Anyway, I somehow managed to get both kids out of the house fed, dressed, and with all necessary supplies for the day at 8:30 in the morning just so I could go to MOPS.....a messy haired, sleep deprived, bespectacled, my-butt-is-too-big-for-these-jeans, attempt to be a normal person for a few hours.

If the other mommies noticed, at least they were nice enough to say anything....but I spent the whole morning feeling like a complete social outcast.

This afternoon I just drag through the useless drudge of house cleaning and feel like a completely inadequate mom. Celia can't sleep either and has pretty much deteriorated into walking around the house crying for her dad (just like she did most of last night). Frankly, there's not a damn thing I can do to make her feel better. So we're just going to watch cartoons and cry until soccer practice...where I get to slip into the skin of a normal person once again and she gets to go play with a friend.

As a consolation, my therapist insists that I'm quite rational, sane, and normal. I'm thinking I should really have her write that one down next week.

The Best Way to Cook Bacon

After much research, I have discovered the very best way to cook bacon. Quick, easy, almost no clean up. And I'm going to share it with you. But first, will you look at these peas?



Something I planted from a seed is actually growing. Every year I plant a whole bunch of seeds. About half of the sprout, then get knocked over by a cat or die for some strange reason. You know, like I forget to water them for a week or water them so much that the only thing that can grow in that boggy mess is a crop of mold?

Anyway, my peas are growing really fast and my pumpkins are sprouting up nice too. I'm going to be brave and put the peas out in the ground this weekend.

Okay, moving on to bacon. The best way to cook bacon is in the oven! No greasy splatters all over your stove top, no bacon smell in the microwave. Plus it's pretty fast!

Start by preheating your oven to 425. Get a baking sheet with a nice rim, cover it in foil. Place you bacon on the sheet, be careful not to overlap.

Stick pan in the over for 10-14 minutes (depending on how crispy you like your bacon). Keep an eye on it. You should rotate the pan halfway through so that it cooks evenly. Remove the bacon from the pan and place it on a plate with paper towel (or McDonalds napkins, if you have run out of paper towels again but happen to have a pile of napkins left over from when you friend brought you ice cream in an effort to stave off complete emotional breakdown last night).

If you let the pan cool the grease will solidify, so you can just remove the foil sheet, grease and all, throw the whole mess away.

The recipe I found (which I'm not linking because it had several inconsistencies) says you can place several trays in the oven at the same time. Don't try this. I found it burned one pan to a smokey crisp and left the other way undercooked, even if you switch them around in the middle. The result is you ruin half a perfectly good pound of bacon and don't have enough for what you planned to do with it, so you have to just sit down and eat the rest of it all by yourself.

So stick with one pan at a time. Soon I'll share with you my super yummy crouton recipe and then you can make yourself a nice salad.

Playing with Scissors.

Look what I did this evening....


Oh, I know. I said I wouldn't do it. I said I was growing it out. It just needed a little trim around the edges. But once you get started, it's just so much fun!

And I didn't cut the shortest part on top hardly at all. So it really wasn't much more than a trim...it was just more of a trim than I had planned. Short hair is just so easy though...

I'm really going to grow it out this time though! Sister-in-law asked me (and the kids, but we're not talking about them here!) to be in here wedding. I'm pretty sure she would like to NOT have to explain to future friends "who the cross-dresser in the wedding party is". Maybe I'll just wear a wig. (Just kidding guys, I promise to behave and not do anything goofy at the wedding.)

My hair cutting technique would cause heart failure in any respectable stylist. I basically grab a hunk of hair, and start clipping away. Sometimes I even have to use my left hand (I'm definitely a righty). I just clip and clip away until I have the look I want, then I dust off and take a shower.

If you're going to cut your own hair, the bathroom is a great place to do it. It's easy to clean up, and it's close to the shower. It also has a door that shuts and keeps the kids from "helping".

There are two very important things that you MUST do if you choose to cut your own hair in the bathroom.

First, take the toothbrushes off the sink. Your family will thank you for this.

Second, pull the plug on the sink. You really don't want a bunch of hair in the drain. If you want to make clean-up easier, dry the sink first as well.

Here are a couple of pictures where you can kind of see the new 'do. While I may be able to cut hair in peace, I certainly can not take pictures in peace!

Chaos Ensues.

Thankfully, it stuck around for only an hour.

We had a pretty quiet evening. Mostly because Celia was way overtired and I plopped her butt in bed at 8:00 on the dot. Jordan was watching a movie, then went up to his room to play with Legos. I went up at 9:00 and helped him with his fluoride treatment and put him in bed.

I came downstairs and decided just to relax a little. M*A*S*H was on and I wanted to watch it again as I'm all nostalgic over it now. (As long as they keep showing the lighter ones!) I also decided to pig out a little. I made tea, had an English muffin, then decided I needed some snack mix. I went down to the basement (where I keep my huge stockpile of free stuff....I'll show it to you sometime when I'm feeling more friendly).

I get down there and notices that the corner is leaking again (big surprise, it only leaks when the ground is REALLY saturated....you know, like it is right now...) and a hissing.

My first freak out is natural gas. I had a nightmare about that around 3 weeks ago. That didn't last long as I didn't smell any natural gas (or anything, for that matter. Which is pretty funny since our basement usually smells like butt).

Then I realized that carbon monoxide was colorless and odorless! Ack! But that doesn't slowly eek out of a pipe....it's a combustion byproduct.

That leaves water. I figure out what pipe I think the hissing is coming from. It's not a heat pipe, I'm 99% sure it's not a gas line (just in case my sense of smell is all off, or the gas company figured that since prices went up they could no longer afford to make it stinky), but there is no water anywhere on that side of the basement.

I debate about it and decide to call my neighbor. I would hate for my house to blow up in the middle of the night after I kind of knew something was wrong and didn't do anything about it. He tells me he's on his way and I open the big door....which causes the alarm to beep (it beeps when any door or window is opened) and for some reason this wakes Celia up. (We open the door frequently after she's asleep and it usually never bothers her).

So I run up the steps and tell her to go back to sleep and back down to watch for the neighbor. She usually just needs a little "it's night, go back to sleep" and she settles right down. Not tonight. No sooner do my feet his the bottom step than she's fussing again. I peek in Jordan's room on the way past and see that he's still up, reading "The Hobbit" so I send him down to watch for the neighbor. I pat Celia for awhile and come back down, neighbor is here, and I send Jordan to bed.

We go down to the basement and friendly neighbor uses his pocket flashlight to trace the pipe behind a bookcase and through a wall to our Pittsburgh Potty.

Ours is actually an updated version. It was placed under the stairs for a little privacy (though only enough headroom for one of Jordan's hobbits to use) and a door was added. We gut us a fancy bathroom!

It's not been used since we have moved in. But it's there. In case of extreme emergency, it's there.

And now it's leaking.

Celia starts fussing again. I dart upstairs just long enough to implore her to go back to sleep.

Back down to the basement to find friendly neighbor wrestling with a rusty shut off valve. He manages to get it shut off and I send him on his way, with some of my peanut butter m&m's as payment.

Celia decides to fussy again, this time she has to go potty. I totally didn't intend on night training her, I'm completely happy leaving her in diapers overnight. But she isn't, so we get up, she pees. Then I rock her a little and put her back down.

Into Jordan's room to tell him that all the noise is over and he MUST go to sleep, since it's now 10:10 on a school night!

Now all that I've got to deal with is three very rambunctious cats (there was another person in the house AND he opened up a room in the basement that they were NOT allowed to explore).

And of course, my snack mix....which is what started this whole she-bang in the first place.

Don't Face Facts, Face Faith.

This was one of Pastor Crabtree's points from his sermon this morning. It really spoke to me.

The sermon itself was about running the race of faith, using Hebrews 12 as a focal point. Basically, know that there will be hardship in your life. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that becoming a Christian makes your life all sunshine and roses. Nowhere does it promise endless health until the day you die. Being a Christian doesn't mean you are handed a "get out of hardship free" card.

In our search for a new church, this is something I'm very happy to hear. I've been in churches before where it is preached how God hates cancer, he hates suffering. If you just pray hard enough, if you are faithful enough, then you will be healed. I don't buy it. I just don't. God doesn't just hand out hardship as a punishment. (Not saying that doesn't happen, but it is certainly not always the case). There is a reason for everything. Sometimes it's clear what that reason is. I'm sure you've seen someone of great faith struggle in body with a disease, though their heart never wavers from their faith...and by being a visual example of faith, others are led to believe. Sometimes it's not clear. Tragic things happen every day for which no man can see a reason. But it's there........

Some times hardship is a discipline. Not necessarily a "you've been a bad boy, get to your room" discipline.....much as an athlete much be disciplined to hone their skills. They must work hard every day, avoid food or drink that will harm their body or take away from it's performance. It's hard, but they aren't being punished. They are being trained for the race they have coming up.

It's a pretty clear parallel. Sin is what we've got to avoid...it's harmful to our soul. The hardship is a form of conditioning...of training. It gets us in shape for our race of faith.

Also, the alter call was very laid back today. I like that. I know as far as alter calls go your can't make everyone happy all of the time. Some people like to see an alter call every single week. I mean the big, "If you want to accept Christ in your life you've got to stand up RIGHT NOW and walk down here in the front, in front of all these people looking at you, DO IT" type of alter call (often followed by the call for all followers to stand and come forward if "You want to receive the blessings Christ has for you or something that you feel like you have to stand for because, hey, who doesn't want that.....but you also feel like a sheep just following along with the crowd when it happens week after week with no conviction from anyone. my apologies on this run-on aside).

Anyway, it was pretty much, "If you are ready to take this step of faith with us, please come up here after service. We have some alter workers who would love to speak with you. If you're a follower and you are feeling discouraged, like a runner in need of hydration, please come down and we have some people to pray with you." Very laid back. No pressure, just a we're here with open arms kind of call. I like it.

Sometimes I feel like the big pressure type of alter call is exclusionary. I worry that maybe someone was sitting there, feeling called to Christ. That they prayed and confessed. And they just can't stand up in from of all these strangers shout out that they did it. I don't think that they need to (some people need to....I think the call to Christ is different for everyone). And I worry that then they'll start to feel "Hey, maybe I'm not really a Christian. I mean, I prayed that prayer, and I felt it in my heart.....but I just couldn't stand up and walk down there. Maybe this really isn't for me. I know lots of people will argue with me about it and say that standing up is the least someone can do.....but I'm thinking baby steps here. Some people need that.

I, for one, would never be able to do that. I mean, I was raised a Christian, so it's not like I need to accept Him...he's always been a part of my life. But I know there are other quiet, non-demonstrative people life me out there.

Soooooo.....how this whole sermon pertains to me. Well, the word "discouraged" came up about a zillion times. And I think if there's one word that can truly describe how I've been feeling lately that would be it. Very discouraged. In fact, if I hadn't had to rush off to the childcare room to get Celia (she got upset last week when mommies started arriving and she couldn't see hers, so I wanted to be early), I may have very well gone forward.....just to have someone else pray with me...which is something I rarely do. I'm talking once before in my whole life...while I was in the midst of awful, debilitating morning sickness. A very sweet woman held my head and prayed with me...in the teacher's break room at the school where I worked. And it did help....I went from laying there just unable to move from being so sick and not getting any nutrition for week to being able to drag my butt through the rest of my day....which is sometimes all you can ask for.

Also, for the past month or so when I've been distinctly miserable, as I pour out my heart to one of my closest friends, the theme of my argument has been, "I just need to face the facts that this is how it's just going to be. I need to become accustomed to the fact that this is how it's going to be forever and learn to live with it. I knew good and well that just because hubby became family oriented for a year before and a few years after the wedding that really he's a fickle work-a-holic, who becomes obsessed with one project after another. Everyone once in awhile I will be that obsession, but for the most part it's something else and he becomes completely emotionally (and occasionally proximally) distant and unavailable. The sooner I accept that fact and get on with my life, the better for us all."

She (my friend) is not the least bit happy with that argument. She always has a suggestion, some of them I'll try, some I'm just to discouraged to see the point of them and don't bother wasting time with. This is why I always say how strong she is, and how much faith she has....it's just always there. So I'm going to try this week...to not bog myself down with those "facts" and have faith that it will change and get better (even though I can't fathom how, when, or why).

And I'm going to tackle the sin thing. It's got to be anger....because I really did think and I really did examine myself, and that's all I can find. So that has to be it. The hard part it, most of it's in my head. I'm not walking around kicking people in the leg, flipping people off on the interstate, or screaming at cashiers. Most of it is just the constant, angry diatribe that plays over and over in my own head.....disguising itself as rationality. Just the past week I've really starting being short with the kids and not having patience, so that's one outward thing I can work on....but the rest is all inside. So how do you tell the thoughts in our own head to "SHUT UP"?

Hop on Pop

Most wretched of days. Things are not going well on the home front.

I didn't sleep well last night. M*A*S*H came on last night and I thought, "Cool, my dad used to love this show! I remember watching it with him! It was funny!" Only last night the episode I chose to watch was not funny, but sad and disturbing (Episode 191: Dreams). I went to bed, slept little, and had freakish dreams when I did. First, jogging around downtown in just my bra. Second, strange, smiling children were at the door at night....worse yet I responded by barking, jumping, and growling at them like a mad dog, then would rip the door open to find no children there. Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

Then this morning I got to showcase my skills of crappy motherhood as I chased my out of control toddler around a church parking lot so Jordan could participate in a bike rodeo (bike safety). Said event culminated in us having to leave before he got to accept his rewards after Celia waked into a 6 inch deep mud bog before I could catch her (that fast little booger must have Olympic aspirations or something)...but not before I got to showcase my failure as a wife as well with my puffy eyes and snarky retorts on where Hubby was (Vegas) and what a shame it was I didn't go with him.

So basically, I suck as a mom, I suck as a wife. I have no real occupation right now (and the house is a perpetual mess) so I guess that makes me an all around loser.

Several good things to leave you with....

My peas a sprouting. Grow baby grow.

My father in law was here for awhile....we are going to lay some tile tomorrow. Yay for progress.

Lastly, a cute video of Celia "reading" Hop on Pop: