Finding Balm in Gilead

And November is Over....

Good grief - the time has flown. The end of October throughout November has been a whirlwind of activity, not the least of which being Cash's birthday, an open house for J's business, and Thanksgiving no less.

I will not talk about the stomach bug I contracted on Thanksgiving Day.

Anyway, here it is December 7th, and I haven't posted in two months, though there are so many things that have been on my heart and mind. But this is what is most on my mind.....

They "camped" in Gracie's room one night recently.

This is such a fun age.

Good Times here at the Balm in Gilead house.

More to come later......

Incidentals

Yesterday, the kids were in rare form.....it was a rainy day - praise the Lord - and we stayed inside virtually all day. At 6, I had a quick interview for an article and took the kids with me. They behaved beautifully. Afterwards, we had to run into the store for some toppings for our tortilla soup that was back on the stove at home.

And this is where the pent-up energy broke loose.

Cash brought his pretend police cb radio that goes with a dress-up costume - I told him he could bring it in ONLY if he turned the grating, horribly loud siren off....lest we scare some grocery patrons. He agreed, but what ensued was a full out secret agent game that both he and Gracie played while I navigated the aisles with them following in their stealthy style. Cash talked into his radio, Gracie talked into her bracelet slash secret spy phone, and both kids hopped on ONLY the blue squares in the floor. I only had four ingredients to get - jack cheese, cilantro, pecans(for the pear crisp in the oven-yum), and tape - which was a request from Gracie who is currently into making casts and slings for all her barbies and dolls who seem to have a propensity for accidents lately.

I went in needing to get four things.....I came out with twenty things,and no pecans.

Meanwhile, the whole grocery store was aware that two 007 agents were slinking behind the displays and jumping out in front of shopping carts and grabbing food items for their missions and I thought I would never get out of there .....my well-behaved kids just moments before had turned into ROGUE agents.....and it was chaos. Here's a sample of some of the conversation:

Me: "Ok - almost done...we just need to get our yogurt and we're outta here."

Cash: "I'LLLLLL GET IT!!! Gwacie - we have to gwet the dwanimals...hwurry! "

Gracie:(talking into her bracelet) " We're on it Cash. Quick grab 'em - DON'T FORGET TO STEP ONLY ON THE BLUE!!!"

Cash: (in a guttural boyish growl): "AH HA!!!! I'VE GOT IT GWACIE!! LET"S GO!!!"

I can't remember what was said after that since I was trying to guide them quickly to the checkout and out the door, and looking back on this conversation, it seems anti-climactic now, but LET ME JUST SAY THAT WE COULDN'T GET OUT OF THERE FAST ENOUGH.

I didn't even let the sacker take our groceries out - I slung 'em on both wrists( the bags, not the kids), had my little CIA prospects grab my pinkies as they plotted their next mission, and out the door into the fog we went.

I won't even tell you about bedtime a few hours later....it wasn't pretty.

And I'll admit, it wasn't one of my best parenting moments either.

The Curb

To follow up on my post from yesterday and show that I am indeed trying to turn over a new leaf in the promptness department, Gracie turned to me this morning and bemoaned the fact that she wants to sit on the curb today.

"What do you mean, the curb?" I said.

"Mom, I just don't EVER get to sit on the curbbbbb!!!" she said dramatically.

And then I realized what she meant. In my efforts to be prompt and be in the running for mother of the year, I am arriving ten minutes early to pick her up from school, and Cash and I go so far as to walk up to the door and wait for her class to come out at noon.

Problem is, those children whose mothers have not yet arrived GET to sit on the curb of the sidewalk together and visit and wait.

Clearly, Gracie feels she is missing out on something huge.

And in my determination to redeem my past punctuality issues and not be THAT MOM who makes her children wait and wonder if she forgot about them, I have actually been doing my daughter a disservice by not allowing her the pleasure of sitting with her friends on the curb.

Oh how I love the ironies of life.

We will be late today.....for the good of the team.

Day Two

Brace yourself - I'm posting for the 2nd time in 48 hours.

So today was a kick in the pants, so to speak, because adrenalin and excitement of yesterday had left the building today. Both kids were up during the night, but strangely NOT due to the loud cracks of thunder that kept me up during the night.

Anyway, this morning was a rude awakening. Gone are the days of laying around in our pj's until ten or eleven. (Of course Cash can still do this, and has already asserted his staunch position in this area). I woke Gracie to hear this statement: "Mom - I just need one more minute. ONE more." So I went and got my clothes on and got her vitamins out and oatmeal ready and came back to her still laying there...but then she suddenly rolled over and said: "Now I'm ready for school!" After debating whether to wear our khaki skirt with the red shirt or the khaki shorts with the red shirt, we went with the shorts today.

Critical issues, people.

Cash heard the commotion and got up ready to accompany us yet again in his pajamas, but this time he did elect to put on shoes. He also decided to bring a couple of saltine crackers with him to take the edge off while we drove the two minutes to school.

 

It is important to note that it is imperative that we leave earlier than my personality is accustomed to because of THE GREAT BOTTLENECK RACE OF PARENTS dropping their children off at any of the FOUR schools located on the same connecting through street in our little town. For me, extreme earliness is just not comprehended, and yet - AND YET - if we don't leave by 7:40 for the two minute drive, we'll get caught in the bottleneck of craziness, and thus be late.

Furthermore, at our school if one is late more than three times, ONE GETS CHARGED $15. After hearing this piece of news at orientation, my husband elbowed me in such a way that I'm sure everyone in the audience noticed. Then, as we drove home that night, he made it clear that in no uncertain terms would he be paying $15 a pop in late arrival fees, and any charges of this kind would promptly and swiftly be taken out of my humble newspaper reporter paycheck.

Serious times in the Balm in Gilead house folks.

My former teacher colleagues would probably laugh hysterically at these present conditions of mine since I used to drive in from the farm to the high school in Dumas and careen into my parking spot on two wheels at about 7:59 a.m. each day. My favorite pal Mr. Lackey would sometimes stand out there by my space with his watch and yell words of doom encouragement as I ran for the door, coffee mug sloshing in my hand and book bag slung over my arm.

Where is Lackey now when I need him?

So. Today we arrived with ten minutes to spare. TEN MINUTES. Cash and I walked Gracie in again to the chapel room where everyone gathers before heading down to their school rooms after the bell at eight. Gracie ran on in and sat down by her friends while I chatted with one of the teachers. Then, about thirty seconds later, she comes back barreling into me with a look of horror and says, " Mom - I forgot my book!"

Book? She never mentioned needing a book.

To which the teacher whom I was visiting with replied, "We ask the kids to bring a book with them to read in the chapel each morning while we're waiting to start - it gives them something to do."

"Oh!" I said, and then turning to Gracie, "Well, we'll bring one tomorrow - I'm think you'll be all right today."

Disappointed, but ok with my answer, she ran back into the chapel. I turned to leave, glad that we survived what I'm sure will not be the only thing we forget this year.

But had we arrived at 7:59.....this wouldn't have even been an issue.

Bikinis, Basketti, and Cupcakes with Love

Tonight, after a glorious day of sunshine and temperatures above freezing, my children and I settled down to a dinner of bikinis and basketti, otherwise known to my son as squash and spaghetti. Cash mistakenly thought it was zucchini squash, hence the "bikinis" pronunciation.

These moments.....oh how I treasure them.

Furthermore, preparations for Valentine's Day are in full swing around here, and this year Gracie is addressing the valentines herself with the first names of her little friends at Ms. LuAnn's. So far, her name has been written in the "To:" box on every one. It's pretty cute....though we only got four valentines written before Gracie had to take a "break" because writing names is "hard work."

Cash has written a few single letters himself on his valentine cards, but tends to argue with me on the exact way each letter should be written. He feels he knows his alphabet better than his mama.

Haven't we all at one time or another thought we knew our "alphabet" better than our mamas?

And my mom still has to remind me sometimes, "Amy! I did not just fall off the turnip truck yesterday." This makes me giggle just thinking about it.

Finally, we baked valentine cupcakes a few days ago for Wednesday night church. Gracie and I were especially stoked because we had watched the valentine episode of Cupcake Wars the night before and felt that we had the skills and expertise necessary to create a cupcake so fabulous that it would rival anything ever presented to Candice and Florian (the judges).

I present to you our cupcakes:

 
 

I've got to run.....the Food Network is calling to offer us our own show.

Happy Valentine's Day!!!

A Magical Time

***Edited for issues.

It's taken me a while to get around to posting about our trip to Disneyworld. Since we got home three days before Christmas, it seems the holidays and then the new year, and then all the stomach bug floating around got in the way of me even thinking about the trip.

Frankly, we had a fantastic time. Disneyworld is not the Disneyworld of old. The Disneyworld I visited back when I was in the sixth grade, circa 1985, was just Magic Kingdom and Epcot. If there was anything else, my parents didn't let on.

But the Disneyworld of today, my goodness, is an entire city of entertainment. The powers that be give you Magic Kingdom and Epcot.....but then they throw in all the other Kingdoms and Studios and Aquaticas and you-name-it, they've got it. Stimulation abounds, my friends.

But many of you already know this. And if you don't, I bet someday you will.

J's parents made it happen this year. Pots and Jiggy, as the grandkids call them, started the Christmas trip tradition three years ago in lieu of gift-giving between the adults. It has been a big hit, I tell you. That first year (2008) we went to Phoenix.....which, by the way, is one of the best travel secrets around. We had a ball doing all sorts of stuff in and around the Phoenix area:

 
Here we are at the Phoenix Zoo's festival of Christmas lights. Look at those babies - so little! Oh, and there's the big honkin' Graco stroller of days gone by. And there's Pots waving in the background.

Last year, Pots and Jiggy took us all to New York City. It was the perfect trip for the family as J's brother B and his wife were already living in Manhattan while B was doing a medical fellowship at Cornell.

This was also the trip where I lost the Blackberry phone. In the New York City taxicab.

 
Times Square, ya'll.

 
And here we are in front of FAO Schwartz with a new toy. Don't you know I buckled those strollers and watched my babies like a hawk in that big city! But y'all.....what fun to be in New York at Christmastime. Beautiful!

So this year was the Disney trip. It was a perfect time to go, especially since the kids are so into the cartoon characters at this age.....

Oh Buzz.

 
 
 Supercalifragilisticexpialadocious!

 

 
We took a tour of Minnie Mouse's "house"......

 

 
...and marveled at Mickey's "bedroom" and his rather small wardrobe of mouse suits.

 

 
You can't see her, but behind my husband (in the blue polo and dark cap) walks my excited daughter, who was tall enough for the Frontierland railroad rollercoaster. She apparently inherited her rollercoaster delight from her father.

 
And here sits my bummed-out son, eating goldfish, while waiting for his sister to get done with the rollercoaster that he wasn't tall enough to ride.

What you can't see is my relief and elation that I got to stay with Cash. I don't know what I'm going to do when they are both tall enough for these rollercoasters of doom.

 
They said it was a light crowd that day at Magic Kingdom.

 
This is not my idea of a "light" crowd.

Yikes - I'm only done with day one. See what I mean? You can't make a weekend trip out of Disneyworld. There's too much to see and do. I've got six days of footage, people.

But I will show you and myself some mercy, and NOT drag this out into six posts, good grief.

Two will do.

I think.

 

Stay tuned.

Garbage and Fashion

I didn't think it would come to this. I only thought it was a passing interest - one that would be gone long before Christmastime.

But I was wrong.

People, it looks like J and I are going to have to seriously consider purchasing.....are you ready....Stinky the Garbage Truck.

Oh yes.

The Cashman has not forgotten.

I've asked him several times what he wants for Christmas, hoping I'll get a different answer. But the answer is always the same......"Stwinky, the Gawbage Twuck...hee,hee,hee!"

Is that a "hee, hee, hee - that name is funny" or is it a "hee, hee, hee - I really believe I'm getting this for Christmas"?????

Y'all. He doesn't even mention Lightnin' McQueen. And I'd a lot rather get him his 5th or 6th McQueen than Stinky. Stinky has to be a passing phase. Stinky is a garbage truck. A robotic garbage truck.

Surely there is something better out there. I know there is.

Then, on the other end of the spectrum is my girl Gracie, who has taken an interest in the whole Barbie Fashion Fairytale propaganda.

And she wants this particular version of the Barbie, all dressed up with no place to go....so she can be friends with her other twelve Barbies.....only two of which I actually purchased for her. The rest are gifts over the last few years, lest you think I am over the top with Barbie mania.

Twelve + one more highly fashionable Barbie = Thirteen Barbies.

Thirteen.

I had Darci dolls when I was growing up. Does anyone remember Darci? You would have to be in your late thirties (egads!) to know what I'm talking about. Mom got them for me around the time my eleven month-old brother was in the hospital with spinal meningitus.....circa 1979 and truly a very interesting and miraculous story for another time. Anyway, Darci had just come out on the market as another company's answer to Barbie, and so Mom bought me one with a few outfits.....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Y'all. I totally remember that outfit. And I don't think I approve of that cleavage showing front and center.

I can still see my bedroom on Amherst street with my pink and white striped seersucker bedspread, my creamy white little girl bedroom furniture, and me in one corner playing on the gold shag carpet with my Darci doll and her disco studio:

Y'all. Look at that silver ensemble. Good grief 1979!

What a memory.

But the bottom line is this: I had two Darci dolls.

Two. And a rockin' disco set to boot. With a mirrorball, of course.

You can be certain that two Darci's were enough back then.

And Stinky the Garbage Truck wasn't even a twinkle in anyone's eye.

 

I've been trying to make bows......

These days, if you don't hit the ground running at the stroke of midnight beginning Friday after Thanksgiving, you'll forever be behind on Christmas.

So what does that make Thanksgiving? Chopped liver?

Oh, I am trying to be funny. Sortof. I'm just aghast that if our culture keeps going the way it is, Thanksgiving may turn out to just be an obscure day on the calendar much like National Feet Awareness Day or something like that.

You may thrive on the whole concept of Black Friday, and that's great. You will probably save mucho more money than me this year. But I don't care. I went out last year to procure me a Dyson vacuum at a very good price, and I will never do it again. Misery.

However, I do have a Dyson that is this preschool mother's dream. But I won't do it again.

Seriously, that big toy store that we all know and love (and somewhat despise) didn't even wait until Friday to open this year.

Good Grief. Wait, people. WAIT.

But lest I forget that I'm not exempt from this crazy state of retail mania, I did have a serious discussion with my mom on Thanksgiving night about whether I should go ahead and head out to that big toy store to catch a deal on a particular item for the kids.

And my mom, in her infinite wisdom, said "Why?"

Precisely. Why?

The irony of it all is that Mom runs two successful retail stores in Amarillo. Seriously. I love her.

Anyway, all joking aside, we had a very nice Thanksgiving with both of our families, and we are now in the FULL SPIRIT OF THE CHRISTMAS SEASON, I tell you. The kids and I got the tree out on Friday after turkey day, and I spent all last week trying to create bows and sprays and all sort of Christmas fluff. The kitchen island was covered with pine needles, ribbon, and glitter for the better part of the week.

And it didn't do one bit of good. I even called my mom, the master of all things bow related, for a tutorial over the phone on the art of making a bow (NOT JUST THE KIND YOU TIE ON YOR' SHOES), and it was no help. No help at all. I am all thumbs.

I even took ribbon and twine with me to Amarillo last Monday to try and get Mom to whip out a few bows for me during her lunch. However, it didn't happen.....mainly for a VERY GOOD REASON - one I shall tell you about later this week that involves my husband's impromptu accompaniment with me to Amarillo and our subsequent shopping for something very technologically cool, very new and clean, and very silvery.

It is not an I-Phone. Though that is cool too. But just wait. This is cooler.

In conclusion, I thought I would share some pics of the kids in front of our newly decorated tree and snow village.....

 

Yes, that's my little buddy Cash wearing his Mater SUMMER pajamas, which he insisted upon even though it gets pretty darn cold up here in the night, and then there's my beloved Gracie holding her favorite ornament, a Hallmark Barbie ballerina that she placed front and center on the tree. I'll have to take closer pictures of the children's placement of the ornaments....the bulk of them are all on the lower third of the tree and stacked about five to a branch.

 
Ok, this picture is of POOR quality, but I have to tell you that they LOURVE the snow village. They spent a good hour playing with all the CERAMIC characters after I set it all up. Nonnie's piano will never be the same.

Back tomorrow and all week (seriously) with further thoughts on the Christmas season, camping in the presence of the Holy Spirit, and new, shiny silvery things. Oh, and a giveaway. I'm going to be all over the map, people.

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

 

 

My Boy, My Heart

Truly, I can not put into words the overflow of my heart when I look at these two children God gave me....two children I thought I would never have.

 

I had no idea. I had no idea how much I would love them.

Today is my baby boy's 3rd birthday. Those seemingly endless nights and days of his newbornhood and Gracie's barely toddler status have flown by. Just yesterday.....yesterday I tell you, and not 3 1/2 years ago, I thought I had the flu and took a preggers test just to be sure. But I was sure there was no way I could be having another baby so soon after Gracie...... because it took forever to get Gracie.....and so how in the world could I be pregnant with #2?

And God, in His blessed wisdom and grace and love and mercy, gave me not just Gracie - my darling love, but he gave me Cash - my precious heart.

Irish twins, as some say.

But miracle of miracles, as I say.

 

So today, as we prepare for our Lightnin' McQueen birthday party with family tonight, I marvel at the way God works, His hand on our lives, and His plans for our future. And somehow, looking at these two kids and the way God brought them to J and I.......somehow, I know that the other impossible heart cries I am praying for in this life....

Are totally POSSIBLE.

Like Lightnin' McQueen says in his triumphs and victories.........

KACHOW!!!

 

 
 

KACHOW....and amen.

My Three Loves

Last year, I tried my hand at making homemade halloween costumes for the kids: 

 

They were supposed to be M&M's. You can read all about it here:

In a word, it was a disaster.

I think I took an inner vow last year that never again would I wait until the last minute to sew, create, or put together costumes for my kids. So this year, I purposed to decide on costumes early, like July.

And so I did. That Pottery Barn Kids catalog came in the mail, and as soon as Gracie saw it (really, as soon as I saw it), we all knew what had to happen in order to redeem the past.

 

New costumes to go with our new couch backdrop. All is right in the world.

Seriously, I am in awe. I am in awe that someone can make felt work like this. I am in awe that there are no wet fabric glue messes. I am in awe that the stitching is... STRAIGHT.

 
 I am in awe that felt can be this cute.

The irony, though, is our sweet little town sanctioned that all the halloween trick-or-treating must be done on Saturday instead of Sunday for reasons still confusing to me. Since Gracie was sick most of the weekend, and I didn't read the newspaper for this announcement, we were in a pickle concerning our Sunday night plans to show off our regalia and get a head start on cavities.

Because people, the town was closed. They done did that on Saturday, don't you know.

I knew this might be the case when children started showing up at our sick door Saturday evening for a share of our candy, but I thought that perhaps the town might decide to be open on Sunday too, because ladies and gentlemen, didn't everyone know that we could not go out on Saturday for all the coughing and fever and kleenex????

Surely not everyone saw the little boxed announcement in the paper. Surely.

So J and I went to Jiggy and Pots' house (J's parents), with Gracie leading the way.....

 
......while Cash held back for posterity's sake:

 

We went to their next door neighbor's....

 
(This picture so perfectly represents my children's personalities.)

And then J and I scratched our heads as to where else to go in a town that was otherwise SHUT DOWN FOR HALLOWEEN PROPER.

So we called J's aunt and uncle and drove five miles out into the country to be their FIRST EVER trick-or-treaters.

Gracie cheered with delight on the way out there.....

 

...while Cash decided to go to sleep since being a football is hard work.

 

Thank you to Glynette for scouring her pantry for goodies for our kids....

 
 

And thank you to my husband for reminding me not to get so worked up over the lack of trick-or-treating opportunities, because after all, "it's a dad-gum pagan holiday, Amy. Not to mention that our kids do not need all that candy."

Touche'.

We giggled at the bizarre hilarity of the night as we headed to J's office to "trick-or-treat" out of his candy bowl, and then we made a fourth and final stop at my dear friend Shelly's where she and Barry, with a twinkle in their eye, gave us much more candy than necessary.

 

You know, we had a wonderful time, despite the fact that we only went to four houses and J's office. It was a perfect evening just to be together.

Many people have strong thoughts on whether Halloween should be celebrated at all. Believe me, I myself have struggled with the message of Halloween and whether it should be a part of our own family celebrations. I don't agree with the scariness associated with it, and there is something about seeing little kids dressed up with blood on their faces that just seems wrong. VERY WRONG.

And then there's the house down the street from us that has a stuffed dummy hanging from a noose in their tree. How do you explain that to a three and four year-old? Needless to say, we've been taking an alternate route when it involves coming from that direction.

But there is something about seeing little ones dressing up in fun costumes that delights me. I love that many churches have created safe and alternative harvest-type parties to counteract traditional Halloween activities.

 
 

It's not the memory of a pagan holiday I want in my heart. Instead, it's the memory of being with my little cupcake and oversized football and the love of my life.

It was a great night.