Ok, so sorry about that last post. Things really did start looking up by the next day, I just haven’t had time to sit down and write about it. It was kind of neat, really, how the Lord chose to reach out to me, but maybe I’ll write about that in another post. Thanks for those of you who checked in.
Beyond all that, though, there’s a question that’s been begging my asking: Can you nest when you’re not pregnant? You know, that whole nesting instinct pregnant women have where they run around cleaning and organizing things in preparation for the baby? I am most certainly not pregnant (and not even “fake” pregnant like those birth control pills were making me some months ago), but I’ve had this sudden urge to organize things in my house lately. It’s almost uncontrollable. Weird, huh?
It started with a cabinet in the kitchen. One tiny cabinet that I was tired of stuffing things into, and that needed a little more room to fit an NC State tumbler I found for my husband at Big Lots last week. By the end of the day I had straightened the cabinet, rearranged a couple of drawers in my kitchen and completely overhauled the cabinet under our bathroom sink – make that both bathroom sinks.
Then my poor husband came home for the weekend and I mentioned that I would like the broken panel under the kitchen sink turned into a pull-down drawer. Done. And I happened to mention something about cleaning out the closet in the playroom… Of course you can’t clean out the closet without having something else to put in it, which prompted the reorganization of the laundry room, the game cabinet and the guest closet. Watch out space-under-the-bed and garage – you’re next.
So yeah, it’s kind of like nesting. So what did we do in the midst of all this upheaval? Well, we did exactly what any un-pregnant nesting mother would do! We adopted a cat!
I know, a few of you (definitely including my mother-in-law) are thinking, “Why in the world would you do that?” But if you could have seen the look on the face of our five year old when we told him last week he couldn’t have the free puppy they were giving away down the street, maybe you’d understand. Then again, maybe that was just an excuse, I don’t know.
Maybe what it all really boils down to is that my oldest is starting Kindergarten next week (it’s this month of Kindergarten prep they do before school starts in the fall), my youngest is about to start preschool, there aren’t any babies on the horizon (trust me, I’ve talked to the Big Guy about this one and I don’t think He’s all “thumbs-up” about it) and I’m not completely 100% ready to be shoved out of the world of diaper bags and strollers.
So I re-vamped my house and bought a cat?
Ok, you’re right – that doesn’t make sense.
I guess it’s just one of those mom-life crises they forget to tell you about in the “What to Expect” books we all read. It could be worse – I could have bought a bright red convertible and started wearing obnoxious Hawaiian shirts like all those guys in the movies do when they breakdown… Yeah right, our tax refund wasn’t that good.
Hmmm. Who knows. I guess for now I’m off now to go play with our new “child” and to stare at some insanely well-organized aspect of our house. Wow, I can’t wait to see what happens when they go off to college….
Take a look at a little of what sparked it all - preschool graduation:
I sat down to write something thoughtful tonight, but I'm think I'm too bummed to write anything worth reading. Not that anything big is going on - it could certainly all be a whole heck of a lot worse. As a matter of fact, I don't really guess anything's wrong at all. Just bummed. And no body wants to hear about that. Depression is, well, depressing, isn't it?So until I snap out of it like the boring 3 foot tall weed in our backyard that suddenly sprouted an amazingly gorgeous bloom two days ago (by George, it might actually be something someone once paid for - and we didn't even kill it!), I'll spare you my words until they have something to offer. I just wanted to let you know that I haven't forgotten about blogging. I promise.Be back in a day or so.Samantha
How many times have you heard someone say, “Oh, it was horrible. The whole thing was a complete and total fiasco.” It’s our way of saying that whatever it was, it was a disaster of proportions big enough to warrant the use of a fancy foreign word, right? Well, I learned something last night: Fiascos aren’t all that bad by definition.
According to one word definition site (I don’t know really who publishes it, but it does have “Princeton” in the address), “fiasco” means: “debacle; a sudden, violent collapse”. But according to the book I was reading last night (2201 Fascinating Facts…I got it free at the Friends of the Library book sale – just a little fascinating fact of my own), the word “fiasco” comes from the ancient art of Italian glass blowing. If an artist, it says, was making a complicated, delicate bottle and messed up, they would turn the creation into an ordinary drinking flask instead of scrapping the material. And what is the Italian word for “ordinary drinking glass”? You guessed it: fiasco. (I know, I know, fascinating and it’s a fact…and there’s 2200 more of them where that came from!)
But seriously, it made me think about all the times we call something a “fiasco”, intending to say that it was a total mess where everything including our good intentions went to waste. How neat that all that time we were really using a word that, when dug into a little bit, hides a rather stunning spiritual truth. Romans 8:28 says that “in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” You know what that says to me this morning? God can take our totally scrap-able moments (mistakes we make, not Him) and turn them into something useful according to His plan for our lives. What a great God we serve! He is a master artist Who never lets His material go to waste.
When I think of all I’ve done to mess things up in life and all He’s done to redeem me, I think I’m pretty proud to be a genuine fiasco. He has redeemed my life from the pit and given me a purpose on this earth, and I pray that I will honor Him for that today.
That’s all for now – I have to run and dry my hair before it sets this way and my hairday becomes a complete disaster. Not a fiasco - a disaster. I wonder if there’s any catchy origin to that word…
All I know is: he jumped, his head hit the bottom of my chin, something snapped, and I spent two and a half hours in the emergency room with a bag of ice on my jaw. The diagnosis? (And I quote) “Hit ain’t broken” (welcome to East Tennessee).
I think I know now how that football player got the nickname “The Bus”. I had no idea a collision with a two year old could leave me crying like a child in front of oh, only a couple hundred or so of our nearest and dearest church members. We were there to see the children’s musical. There must have been at least 50 kids (probably more) in the building, and I’m the one that winds up in the lobby crying. Awesome.
I can’t wait for the rumors to start.
“Hey, did you see the youth pastor’s wife at the thing the other night? What happened to her? I saw her crying and carryin’ on, walkin’ outta there with a packa ice on her face.”
“Yeah, I think she got in a fight with someone over the leftover spaghetti. You know how those two are always trying to take advantage of free food. It’s a shame, that’s what it is. Brawlin’ like that over leftovers…”
Sadly they’ll be disappointed, though. It wasn’t even fun or full of drama. Just a well-placed head-butt from my excited, jumpy little two year old son. But I had plenty of time to think about how to fuel the rumor fire while I was sitting in the ER. I already know who’s name I’m gonna throw out there as the one who laid one on me. I think she knows who she is…
So we spent two and a half hours at the hospital last night to be told that I have a bruise. Can’t wait to see the bill for that one. I wouldn’t have gone at all, but at the time I couldn’t close my jaw so we thought it might be broken. If you’re ever in that situation, by the way, ice and ibuprofen did the trick. By the time they actually x-rayed me (two hours later), the swelling had gone down enough that my teeth could touch. They don’t match up right and I might be eating oatmeal for a week or two, but by golly they touch.
I am thankful that it isn’t broken – the thought of possibly having my mouth wired shut (while a major comfort to some) seems like a nightmare to me. I’m thankful, too, for my sweet five year old who comforted me and kept asking if I was ok. He even took care of the ice water that was dripping on my arm. What a good kid, you know? He’s going to make a good husband and daddy some day – you know, after he turns 40 and is allowed to go on his first date.
So that’s it for today. If you hear any good rumors about what happened to me at church last night, I’d love to hear them. Just wait a couple of days to tell me if they’re too funny… it kind of hurts to laugh right now.
Well, I’m off to eat some oatmeal and to wake up my assailant. Wish me luck.
Ok, so I told you the spring got a little crazy and busy around here, and I wasn’t lying. We’ve been in and out of appointments and registrations and meetings over the past couple of weeks, and writing time has been cast to the wayside many a day. In a few minutes I have to wind up yet another day and get it started, so I thought I’d try to squeeze in a few words to update you on life here in the Robert’s household. Who knows if I will actually get to finish before a little head pops out of bed and asks for breakfast…
So big brother is now officially registered for kindergarten. Insane. I can’t believe it’s actually time for him to start going to school! He can’t possibly be old enough, can he? Well, for a while there he certainly didn’t think he was. For weeks leading up to registration any time we talked about school he would vehemently state that he is not going to kindergarten – ever. Once he stepped foot on the school grounds for the first time, though, his tune completely changed. Know what did it for him? They had an American Flag in flying in the parking lot. Go figure. He’s always been a patriot – we had to find a flag with suction cups to put on his stroller as a baby because it was one of his favorite things to look at.
I guess his patriotism isn’t such a bad thing. He told his dad the other night that he wants to be a soldier when he grows up. That was his second answer, by the way – his first one was “a monkey”. Awesome. I always wanted a monkey.
The littlest man of the house is doing very well. He’s talking up a storm and has become quite proficient at gathering information into his little brain. His favorite two things to say right now are “Why?” and “What does that meeeaan?” Of course, they are questions that are hardly ever asked in ways that can actually be answered. The other day we were listening (ok, and singing along) to ‘NSync’s “Space Cowboy” when he demanded to know what that meant. I don’t know. I was singing it and I honestly don’t have a clue. But whatever, right?
I took them both to get haircuts yesterday and they had a fight right there in the waiting area of Great Clips over some silly baby toys. It was loud – amazingly loud – and we almost had to leave. They were angels during their cuts, though. Later before bed they took a bath together and wound up in yet another fight over toys (catching a theme here?). After this fight, I guess the older one had finally had enough for the day. He marched into his room all wrapped up in a towel and announced to me that he wanted a new baby because ours had “gotten annoying”. I told him it didn’t quite work that way, but that if he really wanted a new one he needed to talk to Jesus, and to ask Him to please tell daddy we’re supposed to have one and to please make it a girl. I think he realized I was half-way serious (at least about the girl thing) and he quickly backed off. Oh well.
So that’s about how it’s been going around here. Nothing fun ever really goes on with the adults, so I didn’t bore you with the details of our lives. I did get published yesterday on the website for teens run by Proverbs 31 Ministries, though. If you want to check it out, you can click here to go to the Rad Revolution page. Other than that, things have been zipping along in a whirlwind of appointments and coupons. It will slow down soon, though. Perhaps I’ll actually get back into a routine of writing then… Perhaps.
