A Tidbit

We're watching the debate, and I was cheering for Obama's statement about increasing funding for early childhood education, (not making a political statement here, just cheering for my kids,) I thought of this quote that a friend of mine who is working on her doctorate in Child, Family, and School Psychology (or something along those lines,) sent me from her reading.

"...up to half the achievement gap assessed in school age exists before children begin kindergarten."

I don't have the source, but isn't that incredible to think about?

Our New Car!

Today we bought a new-to-us car. It is a 2004 Saturn Vue, and we are very excited about it!

Fun

These videos are very fun:

Matt Harding's First Video

Matt Harding and the Huli Wigmen

Matt Harding's Second Video

What's in a bed?

What's in a bed? That is a rhetorical question, of course. Joe and I bought a new bed today. We've been talking about it, and as both of us were rolling toward the center of our old bed (my bed before we got married,) and every morning I could feel a spring just beginning to stick out of my side of the bed, it was time to invest in a new one. (Thanks, economic stimulus money!)

The process of picking out a new bed was fun. We went to two places advertising Memorial Day sales. The first place was bright and clean with friendly sales people. The second place was dingier and the sales person couldn't seem to find a firm mattress like the people at the first place had. That is the other thing about the bed we had. It was a pillow top, nice and sinky and cozy, but Joe prefers a firmer mattress, and I can sleep on a firmer mattress, so I didn't think it would be a big deal to switch.

After a very brief stop at the second place, we went back to the first place and purchased the bed we liked. It was delivered a few hours later, and we put the sheets and comforter on, laid down, and Joe was immediately in comfort land. I was immediately sad. I miss my bed. I miss the cozy soft feeling of climbing into it. This one is just hard and unwelcoming. I know it will change as I get used to it, and I know it's going to be better for my back, but I almost started crying. It was the first bed I bought on my own. I bought it when I moved to Houston, and it's traveled with me since then. And it's very nice for one person -- it doesn't matter if one person rolls toward the middle of the bed.

So, I know I'll get used to it, it was very fun to go shopping for "our" first bed, and I am thankful for a new one...but I am allowing myself to be sad for just a bit about the old one, which, by the way, is now sitting in our dining room. Anyone within driving distance need a bed?

One of Those Moments

Joe and I were grocery shopping in Target today. When I bent down to look at some conditioner, I heard a riiippp! I popped back up, said something like "oh, no," and backed myself up against the shelf. I reached back and realized that my pants had indeed ripped in a very obvious and not-so-good spot. Joe was on his phone, realized what had happened, and asked if I needed his sweatshirt from the car, to which I said yes and immediately tied my 3/4" sleeve sweater around my waist. He came back with the sweatshirt, I tied that around my waist, put my sweater back on, and we continued shopping.

The pants are at least 8 years old (how are they that old???) and made of thin material, so I'm lucky they lasted as long as they did. They weren't particularly tight, so I think it was just time for them to wear out. Once we got home, I changed my pants, no harm done. Except, I was at a baby shower for a co-worker this morning, wearing the same pants, and I thought I'd heard a similar noise while playing on the patio blowing some bubbles with a few kids. At that point, I thought I must be mistaken, but now I'm not so sure. If they did rip some then, how many of my co-workers noticed and didn't say anything? I'm blushing just thinking about it.

Poetry Procrastination

Tonight is homework night. Well, every night is homework night, but everything that has to be turned in is due at midnight tonight, so I've been doing homework fairly steadily since about 7:00 tonight. I have a one page reflection paper on phanopoeia in poetry yet to do, but my brain needs a little break, so I decided to take a moment to blog.

Joe is having a "guy's night out," which I think is great. He met some friends for a concert, but upon arrival, they discovered the concert is actually tomorrow night. Oops. Boys are funny. So, they're going to eat and hang out, and he'll be home later. It's easier to make myself do homework when there is no one here I want to spend time with. Mostly, I just want to avoid the neighbors, so I pretty much stay inside. (Believe me, if you knew our neighbors, you would understand why. There is "crazy lady," who has accosted me twice, once telling me I "scared" her - simply by walking into the complex's office; another time telling a man in the laundry room, in a rather accusatory manner, that I was still wearing my pajamas. I was still wearing my flannel pants and a sweatshirt, but they're quite decent, and I was doing laundry, for goodness sake! Then there is "Crazy Neighbor," who is very unpleasant. He is either pounding on our wall because I let the rocker we have in our living room thump against the wall we share - ONCE - or glaring at us because we spent some time talking in our living room with two friends before we went out to dinner, or yelling obscenities on the phone to someone, which I can hear clearly through the aforementioned shared wall.)

Joe, my wonderful husband, did laundry today. He HATES doing it. It is least favorite chore, but he did it and changed the sheets on the bed because he knew that they were things I was worried about doing and he didn't want me to worry or feel burdened. I came home, saw that he did the laundry, and promptly burst into tears. I don't know exactly why, but I was just so happy and felt so loved and taken care of. It was a good feeling, much better than the constant battle with feeling overwhelmed.


Tomorrow I'm getting a hair cut and then we're headed to Laramie to see Shawn's graduate school tuba recital. I've never been to a tuba recital before, but it should be interesting and fun. A co-worker who is also a musician is very excited that I am going to be tuba recital and would like me to bring her a program so she can see what he plays. Anyone else want a program?

I guess that's it. I'm off to write my last paper and then get into my cozy bed.

Book Tag

Linda didn't actually tag me for this one, but I thought it was neat, so here it is.

The rules: Look up from the computer, look around the room where you are sitting and pick up the closest book. And closest really means closest. No cheating by running upstairs to unearth your pink highlighted college copy of "The Critique of Pure Reason." Open the book, turn to page 123, count down to the 5th sentence on that page and then post the next three sentences.

"He cleared his throat. 'I am here, as I'm sure you know, because of Albus Dumbledore's will.' Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another" (Rowling, J.K. 2007. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. New York: Arthur A. Levine Books.)

I tag In the Mix and Never Count Sheep.

Tag!

Linda M. tagged me, and since I didn't respond to her last tag, I wanted to do this one!

10 years ago:

I was going to MCC. I was an RA and changing my major every other day. (I'm employing some hyperbole there, but I did have a hard time making up my mind.)

Things on my To-Do List today:
(It's the end of the day, so I'll list 3 things for tomorrow.)

1. Pay bills.

2. Balance checkbook.

3. Read more of the last Harry Potter book -- finally!

Three Bad Habits:

1. Obsessively checking to make sure heat-related appliances and candles are turned off/blown out.

2. Picking at the skin around my nails.

3. As of late, not returning phone calls promptly. :(

If suddenly I became a billionaire:

A billionaire? Pay off all our debts and our familys' debts. Buy a house, complete with a library for me, and the most high tech and complete music room and recording studio for Joe, including instruments and CDs. Quit my job. Donate to things I believe in. Travel. Buy a Mini Cooper. Buy another house by the ocean and let all my loved ones use it. I'm not sure what else - that's a LOT of money. Oh, and I would pray like mad that I'd use it wisely.

Five jobs I have had:

1. Cashier at the Fun Center

2. Baby-sitter

3. Hastings

4. Child Life Specialist

5. Toddler Teacher

Five things you might not know about me:

1. Those air filled advertisement things that shoot up in the air like a pencil, deflate, then re-inflate scare me.

2. I desperately need new contacts.

3. I really like asparagus a lot.

4. I like Family Guy.

5. I am not a huge fan of skiing.

I tag Betsy, Matt, and Joe. You're it!!

Something New

Someday

Someday I’m gonna kiss a girl like that and ask her to marry me and she will be the happiest girl in the world.

Someday I’m gonna meet a boy who will buy me a ring and tell me he loves me and ask me to marry him and I will say yes and be the happiest girl in the world.

Someday I’m gonna be a rock and roll star and sing with a band and wear a bandanna and play the best music anyone’s ever heard, and that girl will fall in love with me.

Someday I’m gonna have a shirt like that and wear my hair all pretty and curly with a barrette on the side and listen to my rock star play music with the band.

Someday I’m gonna kneel down in front of a bunch of people and declare my love to the girl that I love and be a rock star all the way.

Someday I’m gonna listen to the quiet side of a rock star, his declarations of love and hope, and I’m gonna be his bride all the way.

Someday,

But not today. Today I’m only five.

-->I've never posted one of my poems before, and it's sort of twisting my stomach in knots to do it now, but I've been feeling like doing this for the last few days, so here it is. I wrote this for one of my classes. I was inspired by the two kids in the background of the photo. (I assumed they were not related.:) ) Enjoy!

Concussed

One of the reasons I don't post all that often is because I feel like I don't have that much going on, and not much to say.

So, here's an event: I got a concussion at school yesterday. A child in my class and I both leaned over to look at a sink that appeared to be leaking and he stood up before me. Wham! The back of his head slammed into my head right above my right temple. I had a headache, then started to feel lightheaded and see stars a bit, so Joe came to get me and off to the doctor we went.

I have a head contusion and a mild concussion. I'm supposed to take it easy and go to the ER if any of the symptoms get worse or new ones appear. He gave me some strong medicine for the headache, which seemed to work last night while I slept, though it made me a little restless.

Joe has the weekend off, and he's taking the best care of me. I feel slovenly and lazy as all get out, but I think today will be better. I feel more like myself today. So far, we've had two weekends like this, where I'm out of it and Joe has to take care of me. (I got an awful stomach bug 2 weeks after we got married.) I talked to him last night about when I'll get to take care of him, and he said he'll get sick eventually. :)

Anyway, that's what's going on here. Crazy that this happened because a two-year-old and I bonked heads. Oh, and the little boy seemed to be fine. That's the update for now.

Safe

I've always taken safety for granted. As a child, I remember when two convenience store clerks in GC were murdered in the middle of the night, and how absolutely horrified I was that anyone would do such a thing. But, in general, I've gone about my life, my day-to-day activities, and felt fairly safe.

That is changing. I think, for all of us, that changed a bit with September 11th. We realized that we could just leave the house, go to work, and that could potentially be it. I know that none of us knows the day or hour we will die, that we could leave for work tomorrow and get hit by a bus. I'm not scared of being dead, but the process of dying is another story.

There were two shootings today in this area. One at a YWAM campus in Arvada and another at New Life Church in Colorado Springs. Combine that with the shootings in Omaha this past week, and I find myself afraid. Afraid to be at work after dark. Afraid for Joe to go to work. Afraid for my family and friends all over the place, who are simply completing daily tasks like shopping and going to church. That's all these people were doing, and for some of them, it was the last thing they did.

I don't want to be afraid. I don't want fear to rule. I keep thinking, "There is no fear in love...and perfect love drives out fear." I want to be so overtaken by God's love that I'm not afraid. I don't want fear to win. So, I've taken Joe to work, and worked tonight until after dark. I've enjoyed my day. But it has been a fight against the fear all the way.

The other thing I keep thinking about is that it is all so evil. And I fear the evil in it, all around us. Even though I know that Jesus defeated all that is evil and Satan himself, I still find myself afraid. My faith is weak in this area. That isn't a new revelation, but it's a renewed one.

I'd love to hear thoughts about this. How do we keep living without thinking about the "what-ifs?"

Memories, Like a Towel in My Mind...

I have a hard time getting rid of stuff. Living in a one bedroom apartment, trying to combine my stuff, Joe's stuff, and all of our new stuff is proving to be a challenge. I was naive enough to think that in the few days after we got back from our honeymoon, I'd whip it right into shape and be done.

That was a month ago, and there are still boxes everywhere. I did get the Christmas stuff put away in a timely manner. Now it's time to get it out. But I don't have anywhere to put it.

This is not really my point. My point is that it is hard for me to get rid of things because I associate so many "things" with different times in my life that I don't want to lose. I've thought about this before, but the idea came to me again tonight because I opened a box and saw a towel. It's an average towel. Below average, if you want to know the truth. It's edges are frayed, it's pretty small, (I'm not sure if this is because it has shrunk, which seems unlikely, or because in the 70's/early 80's when it was purchased, people were smaller and didn't need as much fabric to cover them,) and, as the 70's/early 80's reference implies, it is old. As old as me, probably. And while 30 may be young for a person, it does not seem young for a towel. So, to the average person, this towel is likely a below average looking towel, more suitable for the rag bin than Goodwill.

When I look at the towel, however, I see my childhood. I see my house on Bancroft, and younger versions of myself and my brother. I hear my Mom and Dad talking in the background, and I smell our home. I touch it and I feel a sense of homeness. All of this in a towel. This, of course, brings the dilemma: do I keep it, as I have for the last several years, not really using it but not wanting to let go of it, or do I let it go, realizing that the memories are in me, not in the towel?

I don't know which side will win, but for now I think I'll just leave it out where I can see it, because I sure like those memories. Not only do they recall my past, but they hold promise for a future, in a home of my own, with my husband, raising children who may someday look at a towel and see me.

Spent

I forgot to update after the last post...oops. Sorry about that. We made it to Fort Morgan late that Monday night (August 27,) unloaded all of Joe's stuff from my car and a rented U-Haul truck, then drove to Denver, getting to bed at 3 AM. Basically, Joe's engine is done. Kaput. Finito. And it will cost $1800-$3000 to get it fixed, depending on whether we go with a new or a used engine.

We've been making it with one car. Joe has been taking me to work, then has the car all day to go look for work. Then he picks me up and we run errands or go to my house or whatever it is we need to do. That's been working. Except that he can't stay at my house much longer.

We're working on solving the car and the housing problem, but "good" options seem to be in short supply. The original plan was that he would stay in Fort Morgan at his Mom's and be able to commute back and forth whenever needed. That plan died with the engine.

Work has been stressful lately, as we're completely short-handed. I'm exhausted and completely spent at the end of the day. As those of you with toddlers know, they wear you out - and imagine 10 of them at one time!

We're still incredibly happy and in love, and we're having fun, but all of this is taking its toll. If you think about it, please pray for us. For direction and wisdom about what to do next, and grace while doing it.

I love you all, and I thank God for you everyday.

Lost In This Moment

This is the weekend that Joe moves to Colorado!! Yay!!

One small problem: we're stuck in Nebraska.

Apparently, Joe's blazer decided to have a meltdown about 20 miles from Chadron. I was behind him, so we got back to town, found some help, and had the Blazer and trailer towed back to town. But this all went down late Saturday afternoon, and as we're in a small Nebraska town, so NOTHING was open, and nothing will be open again until tomorrow morning.

So, we're safe. We're reveling in the "this is life, even if it's not the best timing"-ness of it all. It's funny, because I talked to Betsy Friday night as I was driving in, and she expressed that this was one of those real-life things to do in which frustration can be prevalent. We haven't been frustrated with each other, but we sure have been frustrated at the circumstances. Oh, well! What are you going to do?

Just wanted to give you all an update. Hopefully, by tomorrow evening, we'll be in Fort Morgan!

Helpless

My Grandpa is sick. He's been sick for a while, but in the last six weeks he has gotten progressively worse. He has Parkinson's disease, and as they increase the meds to control the symptoms of the disease, the side effects of the medications bring their own dark contributions: namely, hallucinations. I learned two weeks ago of the worsening of his condition, but yesterday received news that there probably isn't going to be a reprieve from this worsening.

I'm lost. I'm tired of people dying. I know I've had several years where no one in my family has died. Thank God for that. The strange thing is that in the time without death, it seems that I've grown weaker, less accustomed to dealing with this reality of life. I've dealt with death since I was seven years old, and until the last seven years or so, have dealt with it on a fairly regular basis. I feel like I'm out of practice, ill-equipped to deal with it.

And I don't know how to deal with it with someone else. I don't really know how to let Joe help. It's a new thing, this sharing burdens so deeply with another.

I'm not angry at God, exactly, but frustrated, perhaps disappointed. I come back to the same questions about prayer I've had through the years. How can the Bible say "ask and it will be given unto you," and prayer not seem to work? I have such a hard time with this concept. I can accept that God sometimes answers in ways we don't understand, or that His answer is, in fact, "no." And I know that God answers prayer. I've seen that so much in my life in the last year. I don't doubt that He does. I just don't understand how it all works. It seems easier to accept "no" as an answer, or "not yet" when it's for a new car or something like that. But when it's for someone's salvation or someone's healing or that someone's suffering would be reduced -- how can He say no?

I know that all the answers I want are not readily available right now. And that I can also accept, as much as I sometimes hate it. I look forward to the day "Farther Along," when we'll understand.

"Farther Along" (Traditional, from Mud on the Tires by Brad Paisley)

Tempted and tried we're oft made to wonder
Why it should be thus all the day long
While there are others living about us
Never molested though in the wrong

Chorus
Farther along we'll know all about it
Farther along we'll understand why
Cheer up my brother live in the sunshine
We'll understand it all by and by

When death has come and taken our loved ones
It leaves our home so lonely and drear
And then do we wonder why others prosper
Living so wicked year after year

Repeat Chorus

When we see Jesus coming in glory
When he comes down from his home in the sky
Then we shall meet him in that bright mansion
We'll understand it all by and by

Repeat Chorus
Yeah we'll understand it all by and by

Things I Learned This Weekend

1. Wedding planning is fun!

2. 2 out of 3 times Betsy and I go to a concert, we will have severe car problems. Strangers will help us. We will make it home okay.

3. Big trucks are best for charging dead batteries.

4. Don't get in cars with intoxicated people. (This one I already knew, but intoxicated people tyring to help are still intoxicated.)

5. Anna loves "swimmin!"

6. Anna is wonderful and adorable. (Again, I already knew this one.)

7. I have a knack for inadvertently picking out the most expensive option.

8. Joe really is the most wonderful man.

9. Being in love rocks! (Knew this one, too.)

10. Betsy could make a living as a wedding coordinator, no doubt.

Weary

I think I need someone to sit me down and firmly, (as well as nicely,) tell me that I cannot do it all. It is impossible. And I certainly can't be good at anything if I'm trying to be good at everything.

If you wouldn't mind, please pray for a job here in Denver for Joe. We would like it to be as soon as possible, but we trust God's timing - He's so faithful. Thank you.

Keeping My Wits

I've always been pretty judgmental, I guess, about so-called "bridezillas." I do think there are people out there who are, in all actuality, "zillas" about everything: "restaurantzillas," "coffeezillas," "customerservicezillas," etc. By this, I mean people who get carried away with everything, and bent out of shape if the wind changes. But I now think that most "bridezillas" are simply everyday, normal girls who get caught up in the frenzy of wedding-hood. Not marriage, but the wedding. The wedding industry caters to this. It wants to make you that way, so you truly BELIEVE you NEED the playing cards with both of your names on them.

It's easy to lose your wits.

I'm doing my darndest to keep my wits about me.

Thankfully, I've got some help. Joe listens and brings me back to myself; my Mom, bless her heart, simultaneously asks questions that stress me out, then brings it all back to what's truly important; Linda and Betsy listen and offer advice and help. And many others have offered help. Thank God for all of these people who love and care about me. I don't know where I'd be without them.

An Engaged Girl

Joe was here this weekend to visit, and it was fantastic! We did lots of fun "couple-y" things this weekend. I cooked dinner Friday night, Saturday we hung out, worked on wedding/reception plans, and went on a wonderful, get-dressed-up-and-go-out date, and today we had breakfast with a co-worker and her family, went to Barnes and Noble where I purchased wedding planning things and he purchased music things, (and I discovered, yet again, that he really is the patient man I think he is. He stayed with me the whole time I scoured wedding books, comparing and contrasting and fretting, and gave advice about which he thought was the most helpful - he really is tha most extraordinary man!) then came home and went swimming.

The most awful part of the end of the weekend is the leaving, And I've discovered that it is much easier to be the one that drives away then it is to be the one who is being driven away from. Three weeks. Not so bad. We've gone longer, and this stretch should go quickly because I have fun stuff going on during the weekends in-between. But the separation is still a beast.

Also, welcome to my new blog! I figured I'd better join the cool kids on Blogger!