Day 3

6 am - Woke up for quiet time

7 am - Went for morning walk

8 - 10 am - Breakfast and packing to get kids ready for 2 nights with the grandparents

10 am - Dropped kids off at the parents' house

10:30 am - Ran around making the house presentable

11 am - Tried to make myself presentable and ate lunch

noon - Ran to store to buy jewelry and hussy red nail polish for tomorrow night's fancy date night with the hubby

2:00 pm - Nap time!

2:30 pm - Got sucked into watching moderately high speed chase on the local news

3:30 pm - Moron driver's tires blew out bringing chase to an end

3:30 - 4:30 pm - study time

4:30 pm - Folded laundry while watching "Say Yes To The Dress" on Netflix

5:30 pm - Picked up Chinese for dinner

6:30 pm - Headed out to see "Red" with PB

10:00 pm - Back on the couch to watch last night's "Survivor"

11:02 pm - Throwing together a last minute post so I don't blow this NaBloPoMo three days in

Fascinating, no?

Kind of a cop out but...

this totally represents the condition of my brain today:

It also makes me laugh my fanny off.

Day 2. Check.

I don't give this great odds but...

According to The Knitting Wannabe November is NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month). The goal is to do one blog post every day for a month. My brain is tired just thinking about it, but I'll give it a shot. Perhaps this will be just the thing to help me get my mojo back.

Perhaps.

Here we go...

Day 1: 50 more weeks until candy corn season. Not that I'm counting or anything.

Do they hand out chips for this sort of thing?

I doubt there's a single soul left reading this blog. I'm a bad, bad blogger.

Terrible.

But I've got some thoughts today because Obi Wanda turns 6 today. That's 6 whole years of shaking my head in wonder at the number of contradictions one body can contain.

To say I enjoy her thoroughly would be an understatement. This girl who hasn't walked in a straight line EVER, who can hold her own in a roomful of boys, who is drawn to the soft and the pretty with the strength of the Death Star's tractor beam (something she knows a lot about) and can give a voice and personality to a pencil is one of God's greatest gifts to me.

His gift of grace.

I vividly remember Obi Wanda's delivery. I didn't get to hold her right away because she was born via C-section, but the nurse laid her on my chest so I could see her face to face and tell her I love her. She was brought to me in the recovery room where I held her and kissed her and irked the nurse because I didn't want to give her back.

I knew her and I loved her and that memory is precious to me. I was completely unaware in that moment that I was about to head on a downward spiral that would kick my fanny like it had never been kicked before.

The first panic attack happened 48 hours after Obi Wanda was born. Just hormones I told myself. The next one came 2 days later. We went out to dinner to celebrate my birthday and on the way home I knew with absolute certainty that all of the van doors were going to fly off and the kids' seats were going to fly out into traffic. I gripped the door handle in fear as my last remaining shred of sense told me that was impossible.

That was the beginning. There were more "episodes" (including one glorious moment that I still laugh about that includes chucking a gallon of milk at a trash can) followed by a diagnosis followed by medication followed by a period of evening out followed by a stupor followed by no medication followed by more depression followed by healing.

About 3 1/2 years in all.

Good times.

Have I mentioned that PB is a rock star husband? And that I have a VERY supportive family?

Doing the math that means I'm celebrating 2 1/2 years of peace and I think that's worth a cupcake at least. I use the term peace instead of sanity because A) PB knows way too much and B) sanity is overrated, but peace is lasting.

The story of those 3 1/2 years is a long one and frankly, not very interesting to me now. What is interesting is how God used that season to reveal to me that He wasn't at all interested in letting me wallow in my junk pile of personal garbage. That He wasn't kidding when He said that His grace is sufficient for me and His strength is made perfect in my weakness.

I never use her Obi Wanda's name on this blog, but I will tell you my girl's middle name is Grace. We chose it at the time because we thought it would be a lasting reminder to her of our Lord. I also thought it would give my half-yankee daughter a little more southern flavor. What I didn't know at the time was how God would use the days and years following her birth to turn my world upside down so He could spell out the definition of His grace for me.

Happy Birthday Obi Wanda Grace! I love you!

Wagon Jumping

I'd like very much to take a flying leap off the wagon I've been riding on.

Preferably big, fat bellyflop into a vat of ice cold Mountain Dew... fountain, not canned thank you very much.

Hello, my name is Lori and I'm a caffeine addict... and a functioning chocoholic.

For the past couple of years I've been on a bit of a roller coaster in the mood swing department. Now I love a good thrill ride, but this one left me nauseous and forced me to drag along two children who don't meet the height requirements and a husband with all sorts of back restrictions. Not healthy for anyone.

I'll spare you all the details, but eventually I had all the fun I could handle and hit rock bottom. The good news about rock bottom is that God is always faithful to provide a way out. In my particular case, He hooked my up with a book about the relationship between our diets and our moods. It's wan't the first time I had heard about the connection, but it was the first time the information hit home so I decided to give it a try.

The first step was the worst. It was a weeklong detox from all caffeine and refined sugars of any kind. Protein good. Oreos bad. Fruit good. Southern style sweet tea bad. Vegetables good. Dr. Pepper... sigh.

For the first four days I. Thought. I. Would. Die.

Truly. I spent a lot of time laying on my bed thinking about which limb I would trade for a Butterfinger.

But as my body started to adapt, and as the supplements I had started taking kicked in, I started to feel clarity. And more importantly, I had more energy and a much more even disposition.

I haven't had soda since May 9, with the exception a Diet Sprite fiasco on Father's Day (seriously, what's the point of that???). I confess that I added chocolate back into my diet, but on a much smaller scale. The crazy hasn't returned so I'll keep indulging in my peanut M&Ms until it does.

I've found that I can honestly handle chocolate in moderation, but soda is my achilles heal. As much as I'd love to hop in my car and get a Big Gulp right now, I know I'm a junkie who can't have just one. People have recommended caffeine-free diet soda to me, but I just don't understand it. They've sucked all the yummy goodness out of a perfectly good soda and left nothing but gross. No thank you.

Instead I'll sit on my wagon, hugging a glass of water, and thankful for deliverance from a royal pain in the fanny.

The Maker of Penguins

Yesterday was one of those days.

It wasn't a bad day, just an out of sorts day. It was one of those "yesterday I was absolutely certain I knew God was calling me to do such and such, but now I don't have a clue and I think I might have created a teeny, tiny mess instead" kind of days. Ever had one of those?

I felt a bit like John the Baptist in Luke 7 when he sends messengers to ask Jesus if He's really the Messiah: Hi. I thought we had a plan. I thought we were sticking to the plan, so what are You doing??? So I spent the day shaken and mad at myself, alternately handing the situation back to the Lord and kicking myself for taking it out of His hands in the first place.

Then the Lord started sending me little reminders of His grace. My dad dropped off a pizza out of the blue, just in time for dinner. (Thanks Hampy!) PB came home from work with roses in one hand and peanut M&Ms in the other because he knows how to perk up his woman. But the ultimate reminder of the Lord's goodness to me came in the form of penguins.

Last night PB, the kids and I were hanging out watching a show about animals living in Cape Horn (the bottom tip of South America as PB had to explain to me). My therapy really started kicking in as the kids were howling with laughter as a line of penguins climbed over a group of fat, sunbathing sea lions. It's hard to recapture the picture in words, but it was really funny to watch.

And as I laughed, I remembered that God created those funny little animals.

He created these wobbly, flightless birds who slide on their bellies and have personality from the tops of their heads to the tips of their webbed feet. He made them a hilarious delight to watch on purpose because He's that kind of Creator.

He's not a taskmaster impatiently snatching me back in place whenever I get out of line.

He's a loving Father who has the ultimate sense of humor.

As it turns out the situation wasn't nearly as bad as I originally thought and as usual, I had just blown something out of proportion. I'm actually thankful for how everything went down because it was a great reminder that while it's His holiness and righteousness that humble me to my knees, it's his lovingkindness that draws me to His side.

And why wouldn't I want to cling to His side?

He's the maker of penguins.

An Earth Day recommendation for Al Gore

Dear Mr. Gore,

I think a message of an ecological apocalypse will only get you so far. Moms just don't have time for that kind of thing. If you want to reach the world's most powerful audience you need to make your message relevant. Case in point:

Here's a recap of our school day...

9:00 AM - Big brouhaha over seating arrangement that has been in place since we moved into the new schoolroom THREE MONTHS AGO

9:05 AM - All parties involved, still panting from the kerfuffle, sit down in their traditional seating arrangement

9:06 AM - Students and teacher bow heads in prayer asking the Lord to help us make a fresh start

9:07 AM - 9:30 AM - Continued study of gospel of Matthew in relative peace and calm (BTW, Mr. Gore, the Bible describes the real apocalypse and there's nary a mention of carbon footprints to be found. *see Revelation.)

9:31 AM - Total meltdown because misplaced markers make it impossible to complete AWANA homework right now. (I'm not naming names, but the guilty party was tall enough to ride Rockin' Roller Coaster, but not tall enough to drive.)

9:32 AM - Sibling of unnamed child went to help track down markers only to have bedroom door slammed in face.

9:33 AM - Church lets out.

10:00 AM - Child makes one last go at a tantrum over missing socks.

10:02 AM - Party of 3 depart house for a walk.

10:05 AM - Mom lags behind children to have quiet moment of prayer, asking the Lord for wisdom, patience and a quick end to the day.

10:06 AM - Mom looks up from prayer to see children cheerfully throwing sticks into a pond, beneath a beautiful blue sky.

And the rest was a pleasant day.

So, Mr. Gore, here's my tagline for you, free of charge (no carbon credits, please):

Nature. It's God's Midol for families. Take care of it.

Tea Time

Saturday Obi Wanda, Hammy and I celebrated the beginning of spring at our annual ladies' tea at the Grand Floridian. We wait all year for our day to get dressed up, drink fancy tea and eat gorgonzola and pear tea sandwiches... so worth the year's wait.

But first we had to do this:

Doc and Obi Wanda played their first Upward soccer game and, goodness, were they cute. They played well too. Obi Wanda and the girls seemed to enjoy the huddle and snack breaks most of all, which was good because they took so many breaks they could've worked for the county.

Doc looked like he was having a good time even though the opposing team had a Goliath in their ranks. I'm not saying the child was too old for the team, but the words "recruiting violation" did come to mind. I didn't understand the appeal of sports until we spent that beautiful spring morning chilling in our lawn chairs. I could get on board with it after all.

Afterward we rushed home, took down our pony tails, threw on our girly sandals and headed to tea.

Not a bad clean up if I do say so myself. I even popped in my contacts for the occasion. I can't tell you how much I treasure this tradition.

One of my favorite things about my girl is that just hours before she was smelling the flowers, she was doing this:

My mother (who taught me to appreciate my kids for who they are) and I agree she's one cool little girl.

Bootie Shopping

I should be putting together my grocery list, but I can't. I need to make sure we have essentials like milk and eggs and brownie mix (BOGO this week!). But I can't.

Not until I get something off my chest.

Dog booties.

Specifically, non-slip dog booties.

Zoe is our 12 year old mix-breed something or other. In her old age she's become a gassy, grumpy old lady who demands dinner at 4:30, kind of like she lives at the Ponderosa or something. But we love her and I'm going to feel terrible when she heads on to the great by and by, which we're thinking might be sooner rather than later.

And as much as we love our new floors (and we do - we really, really do), they are the bane of Zoe's existence. Poor thing slips and slides and wipes out on them on a regular basis.

It's just pitiful.

And noisy.

Especially when we're trying to watch Amazing Race (go cowboys!).

But, really, it's all about her.

Which brings me to non-slip dog booties. We're thinking about buying her some so I did a preliminary search online.

Oh dear.

There's a surprising number to choose from in all sorts of varieties. You can even buy outfits to match the booties if you are so inclined.

I am not inclined.

I haven't bitten the bullet yet because I'm concerned these booties could be a gateway product and the next thing you know Zoe and the kids will have matching sequin outfits and I'm carrying my 60 pound dog around under my arm like I'm Paris Hilton.

Two things that made me laugh out loud while shopping:

First, those dog models are some hacked off looking dogs.

Second, one store sells the booties 2 per box.

Think about that.

Spicing Things Up

I thought I'd skip the bullets and get crazy and try subheadings today.

I Blame This One On Bob Costas
I can't get into American Idol this season and I think I finally figured out why. After two weeks of non-stop Olympic viewing and bouncing from bobsledding to figure skating to nordic combined (which would be much more interesting if they had to shoot while ski jumping), my brain needs a clear beginning, middle and end for my television viewing hour.

Also, I get emotionally involved with the Olympics and root for some of the athletes like they're family members. So far American Idol is a big bundle of who cares so I'm stepping out for now. Maybe I'll pop back in when there's a top ten, then again, maybe not. For what it's worth, my money's on the Jodi Foster girl.

My favorite Olympic moments: Jeanne Rochet's short program, Shaun White's freakish stunts and the American men's bobsled team winning gold. I rooted for Canada during hockey and Kim Yu-Na in figure skating because, really, who wants to disappoint their entire home country?


Because You Can't Flip A Llama Over
I took Doc and Obi Wanda on a field trip to a local Petting Farm where Obi Wanda's first question upon seeing a cow was, "What is that?" I really could've sworn we'd already covered that. Lately Obi Wanda's been fixated on whether an animal is a boy or a girl and that question isn't always so easy to anwer without closer inspection. Kind of like looking at people at the mall.

It's also a leading question because all the answers lead to more questions and I wasn't in the mood to go there today. I was already sure the other moms thought I was a terrible teacher since my kid didn't know what a cow was (I'm still stymied by that one), I certainly didn't want an audience while I clumsily explained what's so important about attracting a mate and where the big ostrich eggs came from. Oh look, pony rides!


While We're on the Subject of School
I'm pretty well settled on our direction for next year. We're going to skip the Wednesday program Doc's been going to take a more relaxed approach to our week. I've been revisiting my Charlotte Mason books and feel like I want to make next year more relaxed and purposeful. Rather than trying to do a bunch of stuff rather poorly, I want to do a few things very well with the end result being peace.

Maybe I'm the only one who feels this way, but it seems like there's a lot of pressure to teach, do, experience everything. It's as if producing a trilingual second grader who can give a 20 minute oration on how the Revolutionary War affected the breeding habits of the spotted owl is the only way to justify our decision to homeschool. Knowing I was starting to frantically succumb to that pressure, God sent me the same message from a bunch of different sources, including His Word.

The message? Chill.

So I will chill.


I had a bunch of other stuff to write about, but my mind's all a blank now. There was something about mom shorts and PB's disgust over the fact my 8th grade history teacher used "Gone With the Wind" as part of our Civil War curriculum. PB's a yankee (obviously). Anyway, it's all gone now.

Must still be that Olympic brain.

Clearly this was a bear with a discerning palate

So I opened my local paper yesterday and was greeted with this little gem:

Man Slapped by Bear Fined $200

SANFORD – A Longwood-area man who opened his door one day and was slapped by a bear pleaded no contest Tuesday to feeding wildlife and was fined $200 and placed on six months probation.

If that's not worth blogging about, I don't know what is.

So apparently this guy's crime was that he was feeding feral cats which is apparently a crime against society, hence the $200 fine.

It should come as no surprise to anyone that the bear was a female. Shoulda left out Thin Mints, my man, and this never would've happened.

More bullet points

A few musings from the first week of the year...

• It's been cold here in the sunshine state and I mean COLD. I used to ask God why, why, why did He decide I have to live in Florida when there are much prettier places to live. I now have my answer: productivity. All I want to do in this cold (the 30's!) is sit around in stretchy pants drinking hot chocolate while I read a book.

• I bought a pair of those Skechers Shape Ups that are supposed to lift and firm and do all sorts of miraculous things to your backside just by wearing them to the grocery store to buy Oreos. I'm not sure how much rearranging they've done to my derriere, but they sure are comfy and a whole lot of ugly.

• Last night at choir we broke up into small groups for a time of prayer and I spent time praying for a woman who's husband has been out of work for a while. I prayed for continued provision, I prayed for wisdom, I prayed for encouragement and I prayed using the WRONG NAME. Many times. This dear woman was gracious, but I have felt like a heel all day long. Is there a spiritual gift in remembering names? If so, could I please have it?

• We're getting ready to tackle a major home improvement project that has been gnawing at us for years. We're ripping up the carpet in our family room and office area and putting in laminate. When we're finished we'll be a carpet-free household and I could not be more excited. We're also painting our groovy wood paneling so our currently tomb-like family room will end up being a bright, happy space. I'm seriously considering having a bonfire with the carpet. I had a bit of a panic attack today when PB and I were discussing where to relocate our furniture during the project: where will we plug in the TiVo??? We're talking about a week of TV including the return of Chuck. PB is working on a remedy.

• Rose Bowl tonight and I don't care a lick who wins, but if backed into a corner I'd say Texas because Colt McCoy seems like a nice boy. I made french onion dip for the occasion and I have to say I have a love/hate relationship with whoever decided to mix Lipton onion soup mix with sour cream. I would LOVE to eat an entire 16 oz carton in one sitting, but I HATE what it does to the lower portions of my body (see Skechers Shape Ups above).

• Last weekend the kids were at my parent's house watching Bambi and Obi Wanda started to get upset about Bambi's mom getting shot. Doc comforted her by assuring her that everything was okay because the movie was about Bambi and not his mom. I'm still struggling with that one.

That's all for now. I hope everyone had a great Christmas and New Year (oh yeah, I'd recap ours but too much time has passed - it was nice).

Random Random Updates

Just woke up to an all out brawl over who gets to put an angel on the Advent calendar... nothing like a smackdown beside the manger to get you in the mood for Christmas.

I think I can officially say that my status as a flaky blogger is here to stay. I just can't seem to get it together so "say hello to your fickle friend" (in your best Al Pacino voice). We're in the middle of our Christmas concert week so it's super busy at the treehouse this week. A brief and random update:

• The choir musical is Saturday and Sunday with 3 shows in all, so that's 3 opportunities to see me in all my jazz-hand finery. I don't want to give too much away, but there might be a few box steps thrown in too. Who said Baptists don't dance?

• Actually, I'm so thankful for how the Lord has blessed me through the choir that I'm gonna get up there and boogie right out my comfort zone with a big old smile on my face.

• PB is on lighting duty this week which means 8-10 hour preparation every night this week. That's after putting in a full day of work so I'm expecting to have a comatose husband on Monday. The guy who's actually doing the lighting design has worked with David Crowder, Chris Tomlin and Steven Curtis Chapman, but my favorite item on his resume is that he worked on Solid Gold. Man, that makes me want to pull out my sister's gold lame' prom dress and crimp my hair. Doc can't wait to watch his dad's "cool tricks".

• Without the ' lame' is just lame.

• Actually it's lame even with the '.

• We're on a 3 day a week school schedule for the next couple of weeks. Last year I tried taking the month of December off and that was a huge mistake so this year we're just attempting a lighter load so we can still make time for the fun seasonal stuff. Clearly we need to do more work on getting a proper attitude about the Advent.

• There's been a lot of talk about heaven around here following the death of one of the kindest men you'll ever meet. Obi Wanda is convinced we'll be wearing sandals in heaven. The kids were very excited about our new "never get sick or hurt" bodies when Ella explained that the reason we get new bodies is that right now we're in our "disobeyin' bodies". True words, my friends.

• This year I'm working on my "Christmas Shoes" trigger finger. I'm working on changing stations in less than one second.

• All 3 of my favorite teams on the Amazing Race have gone home (I'd tell you who, but PB hasn't seen last week's episode) so Sunday will be about watching everybody come unhinged. I much prefer it when I have a team to root for all the way to the end.

So that's the doings around here. I hope you guys have a great day!

Why didn't I see this coming?

Of course, this was going to come back to bite me.

I turned 35 a few weeks ago which coupled with my American citizenship qualifies me for the worst job in the world.

To celebrate, PB and I took the kids to Disney Hollywood Studios for the day because all I wanted for my birthday was to take Doc for his first ride on the Rockin' Roller Coaster. All due respect to Space Mountain, but Rockin' Roller Coaster is Disney's only legitimate roller coaster. It goes 0 to 60 mph in 2.8 seconds and takes you upside down three times. And, oh yeah, Aerosmith is blasting in your ears during the entire time.

So for my birthday I introduced my son to the roll-over, the corkscrew and Steven Tyler.

Doc and I had a great time getting pumped up for the ride as we waited in line which wasn't hard to do because Aerosmith music was piped in throughout the queue. Since we only play the Star Wars soundtrack or worship music in the van, I was a little concerned about the lyrics Doc might pick up, but honestly, you really need a frame of reference to get the lyrics to "Walk This Way". You'll see in a minute why I'm desperately hoping that's true.

The ride went great. Doc's eyes were as big as baseballs when we shot out of the tunnel and he laughed the entire time. It was truly one of my favorite mom/son moments in our 7 years together.

Here's the two of us rocking out in front of the ride. We went on Halloween which will hopefully explain why Doc is dressed like a pirate. And why my skin looks like Casper the Friendly Ghost.

I'm such a cool mom.

And now let's watch as I go from cool mom to bad influence in 2 seconds flat.

Doc goes to a school for homeschoolers one day a week. The school is very much a Christian School. Very. Conservative. Let me repeat that: Conservative. Christian. School. Got it? In preparation for a special event Doc had to fill out an "All About Me" poster.

Favorite food? Pizza.

Favorite book? Anything about inventions.

Favorite toy? Legos.

Favorite movie? Star Wars (duh)

Favorite TV show? Sid the Science Kid

Favorite song? Walk This Way

I'm sorry, what???

Yes, tomorrow when every other kid shares about his favorite Veggie Tales song my son will be giving a shout-out to Aerosmith.

At least he spelled it correctly.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation, part 1

I thought I would post some items that I would've posted had I not been on a three month hiatus.

A lot of people think PB and I are a good match because we are both so, well, "normal". Disregarding the commentary from the peanut gallery that is my family, those who would judge PB and I by our exterior would take one look at PB's button-down shirts, my mom uniform, both our white cars and my iPod play list and think: white bread.

Ah, but looks are deceiving because the reason PB and I have so much fun together is that we both have a soft spot for people who are a bit left of center. That's why PB was totally on board when I asked if he wanted to take the kids to the 2009 World Yo Yo Championships.

That's right and it was awesome.

I was expecting a fun night and it delivered like Dominos. For starters, when we got to the hotel that was hosting the event, we walked in as an Elvis impersonator was walking out. Apparently the yo yo competition was in the ballroom next door to a celebrity impersonator convention. It was surreal and I was giddy.

I've never been to a yo yo competition before so I didn't know what to expect. What I wasn't expecting was the abundance of hair gel and chains. It was sort of like going to a skate park where the sights and sounds imply chaos but when you take a closer look you can see that there is a quiet etiquette to the whole thing.

I'm posting a video so you can see the guy who won the whole thing and get an idea about what the night was like. (You might want to skip the first minute because it's just warm-up before he really gets going.)

You'll have to conjure up your own image of passing Barbara Streisand and Cher on the way to the parking lot.

Here's a great idea...

...write a blog post about how you hear voices in your head and then go blog silent for about 3 months.

Hello.

I'm back... is anyone still out there? (Hi Joan.)

And now the little cursor is blinking at me like an impatient toe tapping. As if a flood of explanations for my absence are going to roll off my fingertips.

I hear cursors talking in my head.

Let's see. Where have I been for three months? I wish I could give you an amazing story about an exciting adventure or earth shaking project that's kept me away from the computer.

But I can't.

I've just been laying low. Chilling as it were.

I started noticing that things in my life and the life of my family were on the verge of getting out of whack if I didn't get a handle on our schedule. Every year it's the same routine: a little commitment here, another little commitment there and the next thing you know I'm the crazy lady wandering in the grocery store with a mountain of brownie mix boxes muttering about not caring if my family eats croutons for dinner.

Or I just get so overwhelmed that I become withdrawn and depressed. It's not pretty.

So "simplify" became my new motto and one of the first ways I started doing that is by dramatically cutting down on my computer time. And that's been a good thing. I had the occasional guilt trip about not posting on the blog, but I have to stop answering to imaginary people. It's just not healthy.

We also decided to drop Doc's fencing lessons so now we have Monday evenings and Saturday mornings back - Woo Hoo! PB and I knew dropping the lessons were the right thing (did I ever mention he was taking the classes in the first place??), but we were nervous about Doc's reaction. When we told him he just blinked at us, said OK and got back to playing with Obi Wanda.

Overall the break proved successful until a couple of weeks ago when I hit a slump. For me there's a fine line between too much and not enough and I was leaning too far in the direction of not enough contact with the outside world.

I'm kind of an all or nothing kind of girl so God's been working on getting my pendulum to not swing quite so far.

So now I'm back.

And I joined Facebook. But that's another story and I'm not spilling it now because I've got to store up some stories while I get my mojo back.

Voice Lessons

Sometimes I think my brain needs an enema.

I have these ridiculous voices running around my head telling me things that are neither healthy or true. The loudest voice lately has been telling me "you're not doing enough".

I could have a loaf of bread in the oven, a load of laundry in the washing machine and be in the middle of cleaning the kitchen and still hear a voice accusing me of idleness. The other day I was listening to that voice and feeling a wave of defeat as I looked around the house at the endless chores waiting for my attention, but out of nowhere I said out loud, "Aw, just shut up."

What? I've already admitted to hearing voices, so how much worse can it be to admit to talking back?

I'd love to say that my open defiance made all the voices go away and I've been liberated forever from their condemnation, but I can't because they continue to pick at me. I do think, however, that it was a key victory in a battle that will ultimately lead to winning the war.

I've been having more and more of those little victories lately.

For as long as I can remember I've confused making excuses for others and assuming everything is my fault with extending grace and forgiveness. Here's a for instance:

Recently I prayerfully made a decision that required me to step outside of my comfort zone. I was certain that God was telling me to do it so I did it. While I was still wobbling around in this new arena a woman made a remark that knocked me on my fanny and made me question the leading I was once so certain of. It was silly really and I laugh about it now, but in the moment I was crushed. I started to take her comment as an indication that I was wrong in my decision and needed to make a course correction at once. But then I had another one of those little victories because, before I let my brain spiral out of control, the thought occurred to me that hey, I don't think she handled that very well.

What I'm learning through these little victories is that the voices in my head never tell the truth about a situation and God said very clearly Thou Shalt Not Lie. I've always known we're not supposed to lie to God (it's pointless anyway) and we're not to lie to one another, but I'm also learning that we're not supposed to lie to ourselves. When I assume that everything is all my fault every time something goes wrong, then I'm lying to myself and lying about the situation. Not only does that send me off the deep end unnecessarily, but it cuts me off from whatever lesson the Lord wants to teach me.

More than that, it keeps me from obeying the Lord's command to truly forgive and extend real grace.

The unavoidable flip side, of course, is that I'm not allowed to lie and say something isn't my fault when it is. No excuses and no blame shifting.

So lately I've been praying and asking the Lord to help me see things clearly and truthfully. I want to identify those times I'm shackled by condemnation and ask Jesus to set me free. I want to quit being sidetracked by a guilt complex and walk in forgiveness. And I want to be super-sensitive to the Spirit's conviction and rush to repentance.

And I really, really want those voices to take a hike.

And about those voices, I'm not usually one to beg for comments, but anyone who wants to encourage me that I'm not riding first class on the crazy train would be greatly appreciated:)

This is happening much sooner than I had expected

Apparently I'm getting old.

I've had a sinking suspicion ever since PB and I started watching "Dancing with the Stars" this season. After about two weeks of watching it I told PB I wasn't aware that we had turned 70, and yet we kept tuning in.

And then this summer we started watching "The Mentalist". Also, I used to love reading People at my hairdresser's, but now I don't know who half those "people" are anymore.

I think I could have explained those signs away had I not started experiencing hip pain this month. The doctor's official diagnosis? Bursitis. Really? Is that really a thing most 34 year olds get??? I don't think so.

Please, please, please tell me 4:30 dinners and corrective shoes won't be next.

Breaking bad news badly

A couple of weeks ago we were in the car and Doc announced that he had figured out that rainbows don't really exist (which is odd since he's seen them before). When I replied, "Honey, rainbows aren't like unicorns, they're real" Obi Wanda popped up and said frantically, "Unicorns aren't real????"

At least I didn't say Santa Claus.

Since there's no perfect attendance award for homeschoolers anyway...

Our first day of school was supposed to be July 6.

We started on July 14.

Since that date we have spent one week on vacation in South Carolina and a day at Disney World.

But I think I might be able to pass off the day at Disney as an educational outing because Doc Brown learned that:

sweaty tourists with theme park gas + a confined space =

1 very stinky wait for Pirates of the Caribbean

Also, Obi Wanda learned that 94 degrees is the melting point for frozen Mickey's.

Oh, and we're going to the beach on Monday.