Lance and I, with some help from my sister, have gotten the chance to do a little minor remodeling in the kitchen/dining room area. Just thought we would share some pics. The before pics are not from when we first moved in, but after we painted the walls green and got new flooring.

Kitchen before:

Kitchen after:

Fresh coat of white paint. New wood blinds. Spray painted cabinet knobs.

Dining room before:

Dining room after:

New blinds. New table and chairs.

And this one is just for cuteness!

Goodbye First Street

I write this blog today with some sadness in my heart. Today my parents leave Alaska, their home for 18 years. As I've mentioned in a previous post, my dad has resigned at our wonderful home church First Baptist Church Eagle River. He plans to attend New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary in the Fall to earn a degree in Marriage and Family Couseling. I'm so excited about this new step in my parent's lives, and not to mention, thrilled that they will be living so much closer! However, I have admit that part of me is sad. Going "home" won't be quite the same anymore. Let me tell you a little bit about my home.

When I was seven years old, my family was living in North Carolina. When my parents announced the news that our family was moving to Alaska, I was pretty shocked. So far in my young life, my family had lived in 4 states: Texas, Colorado, Wisconsin, and North Carolina. So I was pretty used to moving long distances. Like any second grader, I was very sad to say goodbye to my friends, and I was a little concerned about moving such a long distance. To a kid in North Carolina, Alaska is pretty much a foreign country. I located Alaska on my United States map puzzle and was instantly confused. My parents spoke about snow and mountains, but the Alaska on my map was located somewhere southwest of California, next to Hawaii in the middle of the ocean! After a quick explanation, my dad confirmed that Alaska was actually not in the middle of the Atlantic but much farther north. After that every time I did that puzzle, I picked up the Alaska piece and placed it rightfully where it belonged on the carpet above the puzzle- somewhere northwest of Washington. Well after that I started to get worried. I mean, if Alaska is so far north that it can't even fit on the map, it may be a little too far north for me.

Weeks passed. Movers came.They boxed up my teddy bears and barbies, and we were off to the Last Frontier. Alaska was much better than I had imagined. For starters, it was breathtakingly beautiful. Each direction I turned displayed one amazing view after another. The small town we moved to was called Eagle River. Eagle River sits in a valley, with mountains in each direction. Over the years, each majestic mountain grew more familiar as I glanced at them each day, hiked them, camped in them, sledded down them, and enjoyed the wildlife that also calls Eagle River home. After a while, I took for granted the beauty around me. I began to forget that not everyone looks out their front window to a view that rivals even the best picture postcards. Not every kid can build snowforts large enough to house the entire neighborhood's children. Not every kid watches baby moose follow their mother across the backyard.

View from our front porch.

When we arrived in Eagle River, I was thrilled to discover that my parents had found a great big house for us to rent. It was fantastic. Five bedrooms. Three bathrooms. Two living rooms. A big backyard and a park down the street! When compared to my teeny, tiny bedroom previously shared with my baby sister, this was paradise. Since I was the oldest and feeling the most nervous about the big transition, my parents let me have my pick of the rooms. I chose a downstairs bedroom facing the backyard with a large walk-in closet. It was a good room and a great house. After living there for less than a year the landlord decided to sell, so my family moved to Laoana Circle, where we happily made memories in our equally fantastic but not quite so big rental. Three years later, my parents felt the need for a bigger place, so we began the process of buying a house. Amazingly, we discovered that our old house on First Street was up for sale, and we were proud to pack the boxes once again and head back to our home. I guess that house was just meant for us.

Our house

A few months ago when I heard the news that the house had sold, I couldn't help but feel a little sad. There are a lot of memories in that house. Biscuits and eggs on Saturday mornings. Family Game Nights around the dining room table. Words fail me when I try to describe the memories I think of when I think of that house. I can't say that I had a perfect childhood, no child does. But I can say that my childhood was just about as good as a kid could hope for. I had a loving and welcoming home. Even as a teenager, I liked to be there. (Most of the time!) I knew that when I got home from school, my mom would be waiting to hear about my day. I knew that if I had a problem, it could most likely be solved or at least sympathized with around the dinner table. I have a great family and countless happy memories.

My mom and dad said goodbye to Eagle River and the house on First Street today. I guess this is my way of saying goodbye too.

Changes

Things change really quickly. Have you ever noticed that? One minute it's 30 degrees out and you have to bundle up to check the mail, and then the next it's 90 by breakfast. My husband and others who know me well will tell you that I'm not very observant. I have a little bit of a one track mind. I focus on a thought or a task, and I forget to notice my surroundings. In fact, once Lance bought me a dozen roses and left them on my night stand in my room. When I arrived home from work, I walked into the room, changed my clothes, glanced into the mirror, and walked out without even noticing the beautiful flowers! Yeah. It's a problem. I like to blame it on my astigmatism, but deep inside I know that's just a cop-out. I am really bad about directions. I am not a landmark direction follower. People will tell me, "Yeah you know that little yellow house? The one with a red barn behind it? So-and-so used to live there. You know? Well drive that road over two bridges, and then drive past the cell phone tower and make an immediate left when you see a red dirt driveway. It's gonna be the 5th mailbox you see." Oh my gosh! I can't handle directions like that. I honestly don't have a clue where in the world I'm supposed to be going when given those types of directions. I don't remember the color of the house. I don't ever look behind people's houses to see if there's a barn there. I can't keep track of how many bridges I've crossed or mailboxes I've seen. I'm just not that observant.

I have to make myself notice things. I mentioned that there is quite a bit of change going on right now. The first major change is that somehow, overnight, when I wasn't looking, my baby boy turned into a toddler. He zipped through the walking stage rather quickly and moved onto bigger and better things: Running, climbing, spinning in circles, walking backwards, and other physical acrobatics. He's also all of a sudden and very social little person. He waves, blows kisses (when he's in the mood), hugs, high fives, says a few words, follows simple commands, barks at dogs, shakes his head no, throws mini-tantrums, throws balls, and other toddler behavior. He's very normal, but to me he's amazing! I love watching these little changes. Sadly, he's waved bye-bye to his baby years, and is leading full charge ahead into toddlerhood!

Our family will also being changing a bit too. We will be welcoming a new addition to our house very soon. And before you freak out, NO I'm NOT pregnant. It's a dog. Calm down. Don't get too excited. His name is Merrick, and he's a beautiful Sheltie. He's my parent's adorable dog. Merrick will be our foster dog, and he will be calling our house his home for a few years while my dad is in seminary. They will be living in an apartment, so Merrick will have to chill with us for a while. I'm so excited to have him. He's very sweet, good with kiddos, and hopefully will become best buds with our dog, Max. We know Caleb will be pleased to have another playmate!

And the biggest change of all: My family (parents and little sis) are moving from Alaska to New Orleans, LA. Only three hours away! My dad will be attending New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary to finish a degree in Marriage and Family Counseling. Rachel, my sister, will be a freshmen at Louisiana College a few hours away. I can't tell you how glad I am to share this news with you. For years I have wished my family was just a little bit closer, and those thoughts have been on my mind even more frequently since I had a child. I'm so pleased that Caleb will have a chance to get to know his other set of grandparents. Skype is great and all, but it's nothing like being in person. My parents have sold the house and are busy packing. They plan to drive from Eagle River to New Orleans and arrive by mid July. It's always been my parent's dream to travel the Alcan (Alaska/Canada highway) and travel down to the Lower 48. (as we Alaskans call the Continental US) Rachel and Merrick will be flying here to stay with our family in a little less than 2 weeks. Rachel was not too thrilled at the idea of 2 weeks on the road with my sightseeing family. Knowing my sweet mom, they will be carrying a Milepost and stopping at every scenic view from AK to LA!

I'm thrilled with all these life changes. Just wanted to share what's going on with all of you. Have a fantastic day!

Ant Invasion

Ants have invaded our backyard. I found this amazing ant killer. It's Bengal, so you know it's good. It completely kills the nest overnight. All you have to do is dust a little powder over the hill, and Wa-lah! No more ants. Supposedly. However, I think I have some kind of everlasting ant breed living in my backyard. Or maybe they just come back to life, not quite sure. Somehow days after their home has been demolished, they start building a new home a few feet away. In like 2 hours the hill is complete. And I'm talking about a mansion of an ant hill. I wouldn't be surprised if they got some kinda HDTV and a indoor swimming pool in that thing. It's that big. So, I drag out the powder and go after it again.

Well, today I noticed a new hill. My plan was to drop a little powder poison, and then take Caleb inside for his nap. Well, Caleb was not so happy about being asked to come inside. Poor kid didn't play outside at all yesterday and was in desperate need of some quality time in his Cozy Coupe. So, I sat my chair a few feet away from the poison covered ant hill and began reading my book.....

Five minutes later, out of the corner of my eye, I see little man sitting contentedly next to me. (See, I was so into my book that I sorta went brain dead on the whole poisoned-ant-mansion next to me.) Probably no more that 2 seconds went by as my brain registered that my child was sitting in an ant hill. Ahhhh! But not fast enough. (You know how when you are in a car wreck time seems to slow down and everything happens in slow motion. That is exactly what happened.) Caleb's chubby little fingers went straight into the white powder, slowly coming up, closer and closer to his face, and OH NO!!!!!!!! My child just stuck ant poison in his mouth!!!!! I jumped up, grabbed the kid, heart pounding. Heart literally about to jump out of my chest as I said "oh no oh no oh no" about a hundred times. I'm sweating. I'm holding back tears. I'm freaking out. I'm standing there thinking, "Is it possible that child services might take away my kid for poisoning him with ant killer and covering his helpless little body in ant bites?" I hoist him up, begin running frantically to the sink, swatting the hundreds of ants that I was sure were crawling all over my baby, biting him to pieces. I stick his entire body into the bathroom sink and turn on the cold water full blast. I begin scrubbing his legs, arms and face. Scooping water into his mouth. I hear little sounds coming from my baby. I'm sure he's about to die. These must be the last sounds he'll ever make. I'm positive that they're helpless, pitifull crying sounds.........Until, I turn down the water, glance at my child, dripping wet.....as he giggles at his crazy mommy.

Then I check his legs, which a few minutes ago I was sure were covered in hundreds of fire ants, only to find three tiny little bites. I check his mouth for signs of a rash and only see his seven shiny baby teeth. He laughs at me. My 14 month old toddler laughs at me. My heart begins to slow down, and all I can do is laugh right along with him. "Sorry Caleb, your mommy's a big dramatic."

A Piece of Paper

Graduation is in the air! Frantic seniors are rushing to fill out last minute paperwork, applications, and finals. Their mamas tear up at every completed step. "Oh, my baby got her senior portraits. Oh, my baby addressed her last invitation. Oh, my baby finished her last final. Oh, my baby got her cap and gown. Oh, my baby is growing up." Their little siblings carefully plot the best possible use of the soon-to-be-empty bedroom. Their dads give last minute life lessons: how to balance a checkbook, how to check the oil, how to change a tire, how to beat off college boys with a stick. :-) Yes, graduation is here again!

This year is a pretty important year for my family. My younger sister is graduating. As the youngest of four, she has patiently waited her turn to leave the nest and is very ready and excited. She graduated on Wednesday, and although I couldn't be there, I was cheering from 5000 miles away for my baby sis.

I have been to quite a few graduations in my life. The graduates parade into the auditorium dressed in their cap and gown as moms begin to grab the tissue. Pretty but usually pretty boring music plays for what seems like an eternity. Especially if your graduating class was close to 500 like mine.A well respected teacher or community member gives a motivational speech. The class valedictorian gives a speech as well. And then eventually everyone gets up, walks to the front, tries desperately not to fall, and accepts a piece of paper.

It's funny that all this hype is over a piece of paper. The paper says that you worked hard for a designated amount of years and earned a designated amount of credits toward your education. And without that paper you can't continue your education or obtain a good job. But it's not really about the piece of paper is it? So what's graduation about?

I think it signifies a new step, a new season of life. It's a celebration of the past and looking forward to the future. When I accepted that piece of paper in May of 2003, I didn't have a clue what to expect. I was so excited and nervous and sad and happy all at the same time. It all worked out though. I had some difficult experiences and many wonderful ones. I believe that God directed my path, and I am confident He will do the same for the graduates that follow Him. Lance and I have talked with many high school seniors about thier plans and worries for the future. They worry (and so did I) about following God's plan and God's will for thier life. We, as humans, think we have to have it all figured out. We want step 1, 2, 3, and 4 to fall easily in place. We want to see the entire picture, and we want to be confident that God will back us up in the path that we have chosen.....I don't think it works that way though. God doesn't hand us a blueprint or a step by step manual for our lives. I think He doesn't do that for a reason. Planning is a good thing. It helps direct our lives, our goals, and our futures. But, planning is not all there is to it. God never commanded us to plan. He commanded us to trust.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your path. Proverbs 3:5-6

I'm so proud of the graduates in my life, my sister Rach-h, my nephew-in-law Brett, and our students here in George County. Trust God. Follow all the commands that He has written in His Word. Everything else will fall into place. Enjoy your time to celebrate. I look forward to seeing what God has in store for your future!

Hanging with the 65+ crowd

Today, I ate good. Really, really good. I went to the monthly Senior Adult Lunch at my church.

As most of you know, I'm not a senior adult. I'm 25 actually. But being the youth minister's wife definitely has it's perks. One being the fact that you have an open invitation to just about every event the church has to offer. Also, since I live in the parsonage, which is about a 2 minute walk from the church, it's really convenient for me to just zip on over for a little while. Well, I say 2 minutes walk- technically it takes about 10 because I have an independent little toddler who wants to walk everywhere! And 1 of my steps equals about 5 of his. Plus we have to stop to notice the birds, the ants, the trees and the flowers! Anyways, so I attended the Senior Adult Lunch. Senior adults are awesome.

Here are my top 5 reasons to hang with the 65+ crowd.

1. They cook amazing- I'm taking about dishes filled to the brim with perfectly seasoned home-grown vegetables, homemade rolls, delightful chicken casseroles, pasta dishes, and rich/sugary/gooey/delicious desserts.

2. They like to teach.- Most senior adults like to pass on things that they know how to do well. Ask them for their recipe and not only will they write it down for you, but they'll also tell you the tips and tricks to make it just right. (The stuff you'll never get from a Betty Crocker cookbook!) My husband has really enjoyed working with older men. Lance asks them to show him how to do building projects or electrical work. He has learned so much and is quickly becoming a handyman!

3. They adore children.- Well, most of them. I have come across a few elderly ladies and gentlemen that give me dirty looks because my kid is too loud but for the most part this is true. I am sorta on the shy side, but conversation is easy when you have a cute toddler. All Caleb has to do is give them a little grin and a wave, and they love him! Caleb is always a hit with the over 60 crowd.

4. They are wise.- Most things that I struggle with, an elderly lady has too. She can sympathize and give advice of how she overcame obstacles. Yes, I know that some senior ladies tell long, long stories, but trust me it's worth it to listen.

5. They want to know about us.- Older people grew up in a very different world than we do today, but that doesn't mean they hate our world. Some embrace it and jump at the chance to learn something new, even to the point of texting with their grandchildren or catching up with the world on facebook. However some senior adults, don't understand our fast, high tech toys and tools. But, this afternoon Lance talked for close to an hour with a man who is interested in learning to email but is unsure about how to set it up.

I think it is sad that young people don't spend time with older people. We are quick to judge them, pointing out their boring music, outdated technology, and old-fashioned values. Just as I'm sure you have, I have met some elderly people that did not posses many of the qualities I have mentioned. But that doesn't mean we should give up on the whole generation. If you met a 23 year old who was a jerk, would you stop spending time with all 23 year olds? Of course not, that would be ridiculous.

Titus 2:3-5 Likewise, teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers of addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good. Then they can train the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God. (emphasis mine)

The Most Important Story I Will Ever Tell

I like things to be simple. The Bible is complicated sometimes. There are so many stories that it can be overwhelming at time. This blog is my attempt to simplify the story of Jesus in my mind, and hopefully yours as well. If you know Jesus, maybe it will be a good refresher. If you don't....just check it out. At the very least, you'll hear a pretty amazing story. His story.

At first there was nothing. Then God made the world, and He made everything in it too. He made a man. Next, He made a helper for the man, called woman. Their names were Adam and Eve. God put Adam in charge of a very special and beautiful garden called Eden. Adam and Eve could eat anything they wanted to in this fantastic garden, except for one tree. God told them not to eat from this one tree, or they would die. God gave them a choice to obey. They chose to disobey. Satan, the deceiver, tempted Eve to eat fruit from the tree, and she fell into the temptation and sinned. She gave some to her husband, Adam, and he sinned too. It may not seem like such a big deal to you. Yeah, it's just fruit right? See, the problem was that they disobeyed. Anything that we do that disobeys God is sinful. And sin and God don't mix. God is perfect, so sin is just not a part of Him. Sin equals death. Adam and Eve were warned that if they ate that fruit, they would face death. The death was not immediate. They didn't fall flat on their faces dead the moment the fruit touched their mouths. The fruit wasn't poisonous. The disobedience, the sin, was the death factor. They were sent away from the special garden and away from God. At that point, sin became a part of the world. Every one that has lived has sinned. In fact, they were born with a sinful nature. As humans, we desire to do sinful, selfish things. That's where our big problem comes in. The sin problem.

Time passes. Adam and Eve have children. Their children have children. Sin continues to be a big problem. It just gets bigger and bigger. It gets so bad in fact that God decides to destroy the earth by a flood, leaving only a few good people to repopulate the world. I'm sure you've heard that story: Noah and the Ark. So Noah and his family repopulate the world. But remember like I mentioned before, people have a sinful nature so sin was still a problem. But God had a plan.

God had a plan for a man named Abram. (Who his name later gets changed to Abraham.) God promised Abraham that he would make his family into a great nation and that his family would be blessed. Abraham's family's story is very interesting, and if you have never read it I encourage you to check it out, starting in Genesis 12. But for times sake, and for the sake of my fingers who get worn out after too much typing, I'll summarize. God gave Abraham everything He promised. A great big family tree and wonderful blessings. God renamed one of Abraham's grandson's Israel. (His given name was Jacob.) Israel/Jacob had a whole bunch of sons, and they became known as the 12 tribes of Israel aka: the Israelites. Those people were known as God's chosen people. God gave them a special land, called the promised land and they were successful in many ways. However, they went through a lot of struggles. Many of these struggles, they brought on themselves because they still had that sin problem, and a lot of times they were disobedient to God.

Another important man in this story is named Moses. Moses was a leader of the Israelites. He helped lead the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt. God also chose to give Moses commands and laws to share with the people. These laws were given so that the people could deal with their sin problem. The laws would help them be holy. The people were taught how to receive forgiveness from their sin. Remember we said that sin equals death. They had to make sacrifices to atone for their sin.

Many, many years passed. The Israelites were still God's chosen people. They had their glory days when everything was going great. They conquered other nations, they had wealth beyond measure, they had wonderful leaders. Unfortunately, along with the glory days, they had some not-so-fantastic days as well. Evil kings, famine, idol worship, poverty, and a split kingdom. Many more years passed. They were still God's chosen people.

I used to wonder about why the Israelites were God's chosen people. What makes them so special? Why did God give them good land? Why did He allow them to conquer all these nations? I am not biblical scholar, but I think I am beginning to understand. See, remember that guy Abraham? He was promised a great nation and promised to be blessed. I doubt Abraham really understood the blessing that he was going to receive. But a big, huge part of his blessing was to be the great, great, great, great, great, great....great......great......great granddad of the Man who was going to solve the sin problem.

That man was Jesus. I assume that you've heard the Christmas story. You know about the manger, the virgin, the wise men so I won't go into great detail. (If not you can find all about it starting in Luke 1.) Jesus is God's Son. He is also God. So, as we said, God is perfect. Jesus lived a perfect, sinless life. Sin equals death. Since He had no sin, He didn't deserve death. However, all of humanity does.

God's plan was this: The perfect Jesus, took our place. He took the punishment for sin, even though He was sinless. Because of Jesus' sacrifice our sins can be forgiven and our hearts can be clean. That is exactly what Jesus did. He was killed by crucifixion, one of the most painful ways to die. If you read the gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John) you can read all about the events that led up to Jesus' death. His teaching, miracles, and ministry. Then about His friend, Judas, betraying Him and handing Him over to the people who wanted Him dead. It's a really sad story. But, the story gives me hope because it was all in God's plan all along. In fact, if you look back in the Old Testament there were prophets who foretold the events surrounding the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.

So, Jesus died. Most people's stories end at their death. The cool thing about Jesus' story is that His death was when things really started happening! He was dead. Then he was alive again! Seriously. Literally, alive again. Over 500 people got to see Him, and historical documents besides the Bible tell about His resurrection. People touched Him too. And he ate. So, He was really alive. No ghost or anything weird going on here. Literally alive again. Cool huh? (I realize this is getting long. Sorry, I'm really trying to summarize. There is just so much to tell. Hang in there. we're almost through!)

After spending 40 days hanging out with His disciples and basically letting other people know He was really alive, He goes to heaven. He commands His disciples and followers to tell others about Him, and He explains that He will come back one day. No one really knows when He's going to come back. But, we do know that when He does it will be for judgement. Followers of God will have the reward of eternal life with our perfect God. Those who do not follow Jesus, will face the punishment of death, and eternal separation from God in Hell, a horrible, painful place. Because remember, sin equals death. The only way that followers get out of facing that terrible consequence is because Jesus took away our sin by dying in our place.

I know some people that read my blog, know all this very well. If you do, awesome. But if you are wondering so how do I end up becoming a follower of God, I can simply say: Your relationship with God can start with a prayer and a commitment. You have to tell God that you believe in Him and believe that Jesus is God's son. You have to admit that you have a sin problem, and you need his forgiveness and sacrifice. Then you have to commit your life to Him. This isn't just a quick little prayer that you say and then forget all about it. This is a life commitment. Everything about you will change. You still won't be perfect because remember, humans have that sinful nature. But, you will want to serve Him and follow Him. And most importantly, you will be His child.

Confessions of a pack rat

Confession: I am a pack rat in remission.

I like to keep stuff. Lots and lots of stuff. I don't like to throw anything away. I might need it later. Consider clothes. I grow out of clothes sometimes. I want to keep those clothes forever because I just keep imagining that maybe one day I might loose that extra couple pounds I've put on, and I might need them. Or I keep some clothes that have special memories. The outfit that I was wearing the night Lance proposed, I kept that for years. A pink striped tank top and short khaki skirt. Yes, I am just a little bit sentimental. Some clothes I really like but they just don't work for me. I am have been given clothes from friends. I really like the clothes. I want to keep them. They are cute, just not on me. No matter how cute an orange t-shirt may look on someone else, it will never look good on me. Orange clashes with my skin, and sadly there is no way to get around that fact. Yet, I still don't want to get rid of the cute t-shirt.

Clothes are not the only problem. I like to keep a lot of other stuff too. Remember how I said I am sentimental? Well......I think at one time I had in a couple drawers, about 99% of every card/letter/note that Lance has written me since we met in 2003. I'm not just talking about sweet love letters. That is worth keeping. I had the notes that describe his teacher's monotone voice, how slow the clock is ticking, and how he can't wait to get out of class. Not exactly worthy of keeping for a lifetime.

I have a bad addiction to expired samples and old coupons. If I get a sample of a beauty product, baby ointment, or laundry detergent I have a strong desire to hold on to it. I rarely use these samples. I just keep thinking that maybe, just maybe, I might run out of the 700 containers of diaper rash cream I got at my baby showers, and I might have need for one of the sample packs. Or I think maybe I'll try this laundry detergent one day, and three months later it's still sitting on my laundry room counter top unused. I also am crazy about cutting coupons. I try to only cut coupons that I will use, but occasionally I will clip one for a product I have never tried. I go to the store and quickly discover I don't want the product after all because the store brand is cheaper than the name brand even with a coupon. However, for some reason I never throw those coupons away. This is a major issue.

However, there is good news. I am in remission! Yes, I have fought my pack-ratty tendencies. I have thrown away clothes. I have donated clothes. I have gone through notes and letters, kept the important stuff, and thrown away the rest. I am proud to say that most of the samples are either used or in the trash. This decluttering of all my junk is a process that has taken about a year. And I am still finding things that I need to get rid of. Today, while switching my winter clothes out for summer clothes I went through my clothes for about the 3rd time this year. I decided that if I came across a piece of winter clothing that I had not worn all winter, I would find a new home for it. Well, I threw away four faded t-shirts, and I set aside five or six shirts and two pairs of pants for donation. I am moving forward. I have to admit I slip up sometimes. Sometimes my pack rat attitude flares up again. But, I see progress!

Privacy

I have been thinking a lot about privacy this week. Let me give you a little background story that got me thinking.

Over the past few months, I have been involved in an online group of other moms in a public forum. Most public forums and groups that I have looked into have been a waste of time. However, I stumbled upon a really great group that I actually benefit a lot from. The group is for women who have children born in March of 2010, like my little man. We discuss what challenges we face with a toddler or what milestone our baby is trying to conquer. I was really thrilled to find a group of really nice women who were going through most of the same stuff I was. Well, this week something went terribly wrong with my happy, little group. One of the moms made us all aware that the comments and pictures we post are not as private as we believed. A new search engine out there called boardreader.com has thrown everyone for a loop. The search engine works like this: You type in your screen name and in 2 seconds every conversation you have ever had on an online message board pops up. Because of this realization, many of the ladies started checking other search engines. They found out that if you google your screen name, pictures of your own child start showing up.

Needless to say, everyone started freaking out. They felt violated and mistreated. Fingers started pointing. People began to blame the website for the problem. Nasty letters were written. Ladies started spending countless hours trying desperately to delete every comment and post they had made in the last year. Many of these ladies had posted inappropriate content, pictures and comments in other groups on the site. Some shared very personal and private infomation. My cheerful little group filled with teething questions and encouraging advice sort of fell apart at the seams.

Okay, so what's the issue? Upon a little investigation, I discovered that the website we are part of is indeed a public forum. That means that nothing is exclusive. Anyone wanting to join the discussion is welcome. Anyone wanting information about say...a teething 12 month old, can google that phrase and come upon our message board. Nothing is private.

My husband always tells me that anything I put online is open to the public. Anything. Even the things that we think are private. Think about a private email. We like to think that if we send an email to someone discussing personal matters it will be seen by the recipient's eyes only. Well, what is to stop that person from forwarding the email to someone else without our knowledge? The same occurs on facebook. We can set our privacy settings to allow only friends to view our information, videos, and pictures. But, who is to stop a "friend" from copying and pasting one of your pictures? Or your phone number or address. (Just to make myself perfectly clear, it is NOT a good idea to put your phone number or address on your facebook page. Make sure to check your information tab. It may be there and you don't realize.)Not to mention that anyone can add and tag you in a picture, but not everyone has their privacy settings set to a very high level. Statuses talking badly about a teacher, friend, or coworker are easily shown and read to anyone. The status on facebook has become for some people some kind of a diary. We must remember that those posts are for everyone to see.

Have you ever noticed that people get braver behind a computer screen? Myself included. I am much more outspoken in print. In fact, I have a shameful memory of "cussing out" a boy from my high school online. My friends and I chatted on MSN messenger almost every night. I was angry at a guy for treating me wrong, and I cussed him out. It was horribly mean. I regretted it almost immediately. I said things that I would never have said in person. I hate that I said those things. I hate that I wasn't myself. And I hated that I hid behind a computer screen instead of facing my problems head on.

David Webb from Cademons Call said You would be more godly if you knew your thoughts would be on the 5 o'clock news. I think they same should be applied to the internet. You would post more godly if you knew your statuses, pictures, and comments would be on the 5 o'clock news.

Uncle Jon meet Caleb- the grouchy, overmedicated zombie boy

This picture makes me smile. Last week, we had the privilege of my brother Jonathan coming to visit us. Jon had never gotten to meet his nephew Caleb, and we were so excited for them to meet. Jon booked his ticket months ago. We set up his bed in the extra bedroom. We cleaned the house top to bottom. We were very excited! I told Caleb all about how cool his Uncle Jon is and how much fun they would have together. Jonathan is the oldest of my three younger siblings. We were best buds growing up, and I still consider him a close friend. He lives in Colorado, so I don't get to see him often. I couldn't wait!

Sunday night came, the night before we would pick up Jon from the airport, and of course.....Caleb got sick. He had a high fever, congestion, and a terrible cough. He couldn't eat, drink or sleep. He woke up every hour and even vomited because he could not stop coughing. Poor Caleb. Immediately Monday morning, I called the doctor's office. I was so thankful they had an early morning appointment, so I threw on some clothes, snapped Caleb in the car and sped my way to his appointment. I just knew he had some terrible disease. I was picturing my phone conversation with Jonathan, telling him that I couldn't pick up up from the airport because I had to rush Caleb to the nearest hospital. (I can be a little bit of a drama queen occasionally.) Dr. McGuire checked Caleb out and declared it was only the croup, which is not really very serious but pretty miserable. The doctor prescribed some great meds to get Little Man feeling better as soon as possible.

After a quick trip to the pharmacy for medication and the grocery store for popsicles, we were off to the airport. Somewhere along the way, Caleb's meds began to kick in. The lessening cough was a welcome relief to my ears as he slept soundly in the back seat. Unfortunately, as I soon found out, drug-induced sleep is not all it's cracked up to be, with or without coughing. (Do you remember at the beginning of this post I told you how excited I was for Caleb to meet his uncle? Well, let me explain that I was not really excited, I was ecstatic! I kept picturing scenes in my imagination of uncle and nephew first setting eyes on each other and becoming instant, life-long friends. I imagined Jon tossing Caleb into the air with soft motivational music playing in the background, and Caleb falling into his uncle's strong hands in fits of laughter.)

So, here's how the introduction went: "Caleb, this is your Uncle Jon." (blank stare) "Caleb do you want to go play with your Uncle Jon?" (blank stare) "Uncle Jon flew all the way from Colorado to meet you." (blank stare) "Do you want to show Uncle Jon your toys?" (blank stare) "Okay Caleb, I'm going to put you down so you can play with Uncle Jon." (WAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!) So, the introduction didn't go quite like I had planned.

Well, days passed. Medication continued to do it's job, along with turning my happy baby boy into a groggy, grouchy, whiny little zombie. Poor kid couldn't even walk straight. (A few days into it we noticed a teensy-tiny label on one of the medications that stated: May cause drowsiness and slight dizziness. Slight? Ha. The kid couldn't even walk straight!) Somewhere about day four or five of Jon's visit, Little Man began to come out of his zombie-like state. After two crazy days at the beach with a sick kid, we decided to spend the rest of the visit at home to let Caleb catch up on his rest. That ended up being a good strategy because a couple of days before Jon's departure Little Man was back to his normal self. Getting into everything! We played in the backyard and went to the park. Jon put up Caleb's tepee tent, and Caleb spent an entire afternoon peeking in and out of the tent's windows and doors. Before we knew it, it was time for Uncle Jon to go back home.

The morning of Jon's departure, I left Caleb in the living room watching the Sprout channel while Jon was checking his email nearby. After a quick change of clothes and brushing my teeth, I returned to the living room to see the sweetest picture: There was sweet, smiling Caleb sitting snugly in Uncle Jon's lap listening to his favorite book.

I guess our visit started off pretty rough but ended up being a total success as Caleb waved bye-bye to Uncle Jon as he headed off to catch his plane.

I Have the Best Job in the World

At least, it's the best job in the world for me....I am a Stay-At-Home-Mommy. When I decided to become a SAHM, it was a tough decision. I was looking at cutting our family income in half, going from good state insurance to awful seminary student insurance, and missing out on a fun job as a teacher. I realized that I would no longer have daily adult interaction. I wouldn't have praise and encouragement from coworkers and administrators any longer. (Who tells a SAHM how fantastically she is folding her husband's socks?) And I would miss out on the great joy of teaching a child how to read. I was worried about all of that. I talked to countless friends, asking for direction and advice. I planned. I created spreadsheets. I made pros and cons lists. I prayed. I cried. I worried. And I prayed some more. I finally made my choice. This is how:

I knew I was faced with three jobs: A teacher. A mom. And a minister's wife. I knew myself pretty well. I knew that I could not do all three jobs well. I was afraid that I would focus too much energy and time on being a teacher and mom that I would neglect my husband and our ministry, or maybe I would spend so much time being a mom and wife that I would slack as a teacher. So, I decided to pick two. Two jobs. I knew I could handle that. I chose the most important jobs. A mom and a wife. Looking back on the last year, I know that if I had to do all three, I would have made it. But to me, just making it is not enough. First Corinthians 10:31 says "...whatever you do, do it for the glory of God." How could I do everything for the glory of God if I over committed myself and stressed myself out? There are some very amazing women in this world. They can work, be an awesome mom, be a loving wife, and do it all amazingly. They can multitask like nobody's business. I can't. I can't even walk and chew gum at the same time! I respect those women a lot. But, since I am not one of those women, I decided to be a stay-at-home mommy.

It didn't make sense financially. One time, I had a lady say to me "Oh honey, it's nice to stay home-for those of you who can afford it." Well, mam, let me tell you. We couldn't afford it. But....God has provided. We don't have a lot. We don't have much extra. But we are richly blessed. Because God's will for my life was to stay home with Caleb, He made a way. I am so glad He did.

Today, was a great day. Not every day is like today. I don't want you to get the idea that being a SAHM is a piece of cake. It's not. It's hard work. However, today didn't feel so much like work. It was fun. This morning I woke up, got ready for the day, and had breakfast with my family. I rolled a ball around the living room and stacked toys with my son. I did dishes, laundry (of course), and cleaned the bathroom. I ran a couple errands and had a shopping spree at The Salvation Army. (Got three men's dress shirts, a tie, and a pair of baby shoes for 9 bucks!) Then, I got to have lunch at Gulf Coast Community College in Lucedale with Lance and some cool college kids. This afternoon, I sorted out the laundry/storage room (AKA junk room) and played outside with Caleb. I sat in the sun and watched him toddle his little self all over the backyard. Then my husband came home, and we got to sit and talk for a few minutes before he had to go back to church. Next, I got little man up from his nap, and we got to go to church where I get to sing in the choir and go to youth group. Today was a good day. Not every day is as easy as today, of course. You have the long days and even longer nights with a grouchy teething baby. You get tired of the huge lack of adult communication, and you start referring to the restroom as "the potty." And your Ipod is set to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and Hokey Pokey! Nevertheless, all in all being a Stay-At-Home Mom is a wonderful job. It is definitely rewarding. I promised myself to stick this out for a year. I thought, "I can do anything for a year, and if I hate it...it's only a year." Fortunately, I love it. Here I go on year number two!

Seasons!

When I taught first grade, one of my favorite science units was Seasons. We read fantastic weather books like The Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats. We would do fun crafts such as cutting snowflakes from extra copy paper that I snagged from the copy machine or crayon leaf rubbings from leaves we collected on the playground. I told my students that there are four seasons: Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter. However, because my students were six, and six year olds have a tough time grasping sarcasm and exaggeration, I didn't completely explain all that I know about these so-called 4 seasons of the year. Luckily for you, since you are not six (I assume) I feel it is necessary to explain a little more into detail about seasons, both here in Mississippi and in Alaska.

First off, Alaska. Alaska does not have four seasons. It has five. I know my Alaskan readers are very aware of this, so if you would like, you may skip this paragraph and move on. As for the rest of you... Alaska has five seasons. First, we have Spring, which doesn't really start in March and finish by the end of May like my first graders were led to believe. In Alaska, we were lucky to see Spring around late-April. Spring weather continues throughout the entire summer, except for the occasional lucky weekend in maybe July or August where the temps might reach the whopping high temps of 70-75 degrees! Yes, in Alaska, 70 is seriously hot. We stripped down to our shorts and tank tops, pulled out the sprinklers, and danced through the water across the lawn to get some relief. (Sometimes looking back on my life in AK, I wonder to myself why in the world did I bother buying shorts?) So anyway, after that lucky occasional summer weekend, we move on to Fall. Fall begins around September 1st and ends.... oh-somewhere-around September 3rd.... Nah, j/k. Fall in Alaska is pretty short but not quite that short. So after a couple weeks of Fall, we enter into freezing cold Winter. It doesn't start snowing till after Halloween, but pretty much after Labor Day you might as well kiss your shorts and sprinklers goodbye. The season of Winter lasts and lasts and lasts. Don't get me wrong. I love Alaska. I love Winter. I love snow. I love sledding and hot chocolate and snow angels. But only in small quantities. Snow on the ground for five months out of the year is a bit much for me. Finally, we get to the fifth season: Break-up. That is when the snow "breaks-up." Genius name isn't it? Me and Break-up, we have a love/hate relationship. During the day, all the snow and ice that has been accumulating for the past 5 months melts. And then during night, it freezes all over again. This causes dirty brown slush by day and dirty brown ice by night. I'm not crazy about that whole process, but I can't help but love the fact that Break-up brings Spring. And I think I'd rather be in Alaska during the Spring more than any other place in any other season of the year. It is beautiful. Nothing is more beautiful than tiny light-green leaves budding on hundreds of white birch trees with a backdrop of snow capped mountains.

Now, on to Mississippi seasons. I would say that Mississippi has four seasons, but I would change the names of a couple of seasons. Season 1: Summer. Season 2: Fall. Season 3: Winter-ish 4. Wummer. Yes, I did say Wummer. That is not a typo. Right now, we are in the season of Wummer. This word is not necessarily one you would find in the dictionary. See, when Webster wrote his dictionary, for some reason he didn't contact me about my made up words and phrases, so that is why this perfectly legit word Wummer doesn't show up. The word is sorta like brunch....a mixture of breakfast and lunch. Or at the Banks' household we liked to have Bupper or Binner. I always liked the name Bupper better than Binner. It sorta rolls off the tongue better. Anyway..back to Wummer. Wummer is summer and winter all mixed into one. It is when the atmosphere gets confused and can't decide whether to get cold or hot and just kinda goes nuts for a couple months. We will have an entire week of 70 degree temps, and then the very next week we'll have to pull back out the mittens and wool socks. Good grief! It's craziness! I used to have two different closets with two sets of clothes: summer and winter clothes. When summer came, I'd pull all my tank tops and shorts from the extra bedroom's closet, and I'd switch them out with my winter clothes in my bedroom closet. Well, what ended up happening is that I would experience one of those fake-out weeks of warm weather, and I would switch my clothes, only to discover that we still had 3 more weeks of winter! Then I was stuck to going to the extra bedroom to get dressed every morning, which kinda gets old after a while. So, I've just kinda given up on that idea. So, that is Wummer. Next time you see good ole' Webster, let him know he's missing a very useful word in his dictionary for me, will ya? I'd appreciate it.

Well, now you know all about the seasons. I hope you learned a lot. Sorry it has been forever since my last post. I've been out enjoying this nice Wummer weather!

Caleb's First Year

I've heard the saying time flies when you are having fun. This year I have found out, that saying is very true. I can't believe that tomorrow will mark one year since my sweet baby was born. To celebrate Caleb's first birthday, I thought I would share a few memories of our year with our little munchkin man.

Caleb Joel Sudduth 7 lbs, 6 ozs

March 2, 2010

At 4 weeks old, Caleb was always alert and taking everything in.

Happy little 4 month old starts to show his personality and smiles!

And there's some 7 month old personality! Into everything!

Haha! Almost a year. All boy.

Lance and I are so thankful for our adorable baby boy. We are blessed that God has trusted us with such a precious gift. Happy Birthday Caleb!

Pasta makes me happy.

I hope there is a lot of pasta in heaven. I think plates full of pasta made in many different ways with different types of meats and vegetables is just about the best food imaginable. When I was a kid, if you asked me "Sarah, what is your favorite food?" I would tell you, macaroni and cheese. Unless I happened to be in the mood for some ice cream or pizza, which in that case, my preferences might have changed. But for the most part, it would be mac and cheese. Macaroni and cheese is a delightful comfort food. I loved it so much, that sometimes my brother and I would make it for an afternoon snack, and together we would eat the entire box with a glass of grape kool-aid! How I managed to stay a size 4 throughout high school eating like that, I cannot tell you. Fast metabolism I guess. Surely, I could not eat that way now and expect to stay out of the range of morbidly obese. Anyway. As I was saying, mac and cheese used to be my absolute favorite.

Now, I can't choose a favorite. I just love pasta. Spaghetti, ziti, shells, lasagna, penne, ravioli, fettuccine, linguini, rigatoni, tortellini, rotini, and macaroni. With lots of different sauces, meats and veggies like tomatoes, mushrooms, broccoli and etc. I recently started creating pasta dishes with whole-wheat pasta. It may sound weird, but honestly I can't tell much of a difference. The color is different obviously. And the texture might be a little different but not much.

A few years ago, American eaters went on a big no-carbohydrate diet kick. The main culprit was that guy Atkins. He convinced everyone that they could have as much protein as they could hold, but they would still be able to loose weight because they were not eating carbs. Well, it worked pretty well for a lot of people. A lot of people lost weight, and even today dieters continue going on these kind of diets and successfully loose weight. However, there are some major drawbacks to this diet.

Drawback number 1: Large quantities of animal fat is not so great for your heart.

Drawback number 2: People were able to loose the weight, but then once they started eating carbs again, they gained the weight back.

Drawback number 3: Grouchiness. Consuming little to no carbs zaps your energy and makes you very grouchy.

So, health experts started noticing these drawbacks and started doing some more studies. They soon found out that the key is not to eliminate all carbs from your diet, but instead to eat the right kind of carbs. You know, instead of snacking on a bag of potato chips pick up a small bowl of popcorn. (Disclaimer: I am not talking about popcorn dripping with high fat butter and covered with half a pound of salt! Light popcorn or lightly salted should do the trick.) Instead of white rice, try brown. Instead of white wonder bread, try whole wheat. (Make sure it says 100% whole-wheat on the bag. If it just says wheat, you are not getting much extra nutrition.) These are good carbs! They give you energy, and don't make you grouchy. Who wants to be grouchy anyway?

So grab a bowl of whole-wheat pasta and eat to your little healthy-heart's content!

The Bane of My Existence...

Folding laundry.

While folding one of my many t-shirts today, I found myself muttering in my head about how much I hate folding clothes. The phrase that came to mind was: Folding clothes is the bane of my existence. I have heard the phrase used numerous times, but have personally never found it part of my regular vocabulary. However, for some reason that phrase implanted itself into my mind. I decided to research it.

According to word-detective.com, the someone or something that is "the bane of my existence" is a constant irritant or source of misery. Folding laundry certainly fits that description. Especially the constant part. A few months ago, I noticed a pattern in my laundry rituals. Since I hated laundry, I would let it pile up for an entire week and then find myself devoting an entire day to washing, drying, folding, and ironing laundry. This means basically that I would have six happy days a week where I could blissfully pretend that I didn't have such an awful chore as laundry. But, then that one dreaded day came, and I HAD to do the laundry. You can picture the situation: baskets overflowing, drawers and closets bare. It was one of those- I really have to wash clothes or else I'll have to wear dirty socks kinda situations. And since I am not a fan of wearing dirty socks, I would force myself to get busy. Well, as I mentioned, I began to notice this pattern, and decided to make a change. I resolved to wash and fold one load of laundry each day. This really does make sense. It works pretty well. Usually, I end up skipping a day and have to double up, but even two loads is not too bad. The problem I have now is the constant annoyance of laundry. It is always there, waiting to be done.

According to word-detective.com, The word "bane" has a very serious history. It comes from the Old English word "bana" which literally means "slayer." (a.k.a killer or murderer.) The word was also used to describe the cause of death. By the 14th century, it was used to define poisons such as poisonous plants like wolfbane or henbane. Somewhere around the 16th century, the meaning of the word transformed into something much closer to the meaning that I use, "something that makes life unpleasant."

So folding laundry sometimes does make my life unpleasant at times. I don't have a problem with chores in general, but I do not claim to be a neat freak in any way whatsoever. I have a couple friends who love to clean. They clean when they are happy. They clean when they are sad. They clean when they are bored. This is not me. I am not a huge fan of most chores, but I do like to have a clean home. I don't like the frazzled and rushed feeling I get when I find out that I will be having company and I have about 2.5 minutes to clean the entire house! It also makes me feel much less stressed to be tidy. And I mean tidy like "lived-in-but-clean tidy" not "Martha-Stewart-magazine tidy." When I'm cleaning, I like to pass the time by, listening to sermons online, klove, or talking on the phone. Some chores I can claim to enjoy somewhat. I like to vacuum. It makes me feel accomplished to look over the carpet in my living room and see all the neat little rows of vacuum marks. And cooking dinner for my family is always fun. But folding clothes. Not so much. (Except Caleb's clothes. For some reason, it feels much less like a chore to carefully smooth out and fold little baby jeans and onsies.) What about you, blog readers? What chores are "the bane of your existence?"

Well, I better wrap up this post now. The dryer buzzer just went off. Back to work!

28 chapters you don't want to miss

What do you think of when you hear the word Leviticus? You get really excited right? You can't wait to hear what I have to say about this action-packed adventure in the Bible, right? Ha. Yes, I know. Leviticus is not usually known for it's excitement. It is sorta one of those skim-through-as-fast-as-possible-to-say-you-actually-did-read-the-entire-Bible kinda books. At least that has been my experience with Leviticus until quite recently. I can say that I have read through Leviticus a few times in my life, but honestly, I'm not so sure if I could tell you much about it once I got through with it.





So, in the last couple of weeks I have been reading Leviticus. The night that I finished Exodus, I turned the page and gave Leviticus a good, long, blank stare. "Oh boy," I thought. "Good to see you again Leviticus." I have to admit to you now, I really wanted to just skip over the next 28 chapters and move on to a new book. However, something in me just wanted to find purpose in these seemingly boring 28 chapters. I believe that everything in the Bible is true, and that everything in there is there for a reason. I don't think that God would have a useless book just thrown in the Bible just to add to the number of pages. So, I read Leviticus. I took my time. I thought about it. I didn't scan through it. I researched a little on it. I would like to share with you what I learned and how I came to believe that indeed Leviticus is not useless or boring. If you have ever looked at the first page of Leviticus, sighed, and began trying to justify skipping over the entire book-this blog is for you.



Leviticus means pertaining to the Levities. The Levities were a family that descended from Levi, a son of Jacob. (one of the forefathers of the Israelite nation) The Levities were the guys in charge of the Tabernacle. (or later the Temple-the place of worship.) They were the ones to oversee worship and help the people follow God's laws. Some Levites became priests, like Aaron and his sons. So, basically the book was written primarily to guide the Levities in their very important job. Not action-packed like Joshua and his conquering of the promised land. Not poetic and inspirational like Psalms. Not historical and intriguing like Esther. But, still with a purpose. A guide. A book of instruction. A book that to me, points out the holiness of God.



The book addresses customs, feasts, laws and offerings. It tells the Levities how God wants these things to take place. So, you may be wondering, "What does that have to do with me? I'm not a Levite." That is exactly what I was thinking too. Because of Jesus' sacrifice and resurrection, we as Christians no longer have to follow these customs. We don't have to offer sin offerings of a male lamb on the alter in the Tabernacle anymore. So what does that have to do with me?



Everything. See, the book of Leviticus illustrates to me how very holy God is and how very seriously God takes sin. For example, if an Israelite sinned he would go through very time-consuming and costly rituals in order to receive forgiveness. He would first bring one of his bulls to the Tabernacle. The Levite priest would take that bull and kill it. Then he would take the blood of the bull and sprinkle it seven times in front of the curtain of the sanctuary. Then he would put blood on the front of the alter and pour the rest at the base of the altar. Then he would take all the fat out of the inner parts and around the kidneys and burn it on the altar. Then he would take the rest of the bull's body outside the camp and burn it in a wood fire until it was ashes. Sounds kinda gory huh? And difficult. I just summed up one paragraph for you. There are more paragraphs similar to this one that I won't summarize for you or else we would be here all day. The book is jammed packed with paragraphs just like this one, explaining difficult, time-consuming, and costly sacrifices that must be made in order to receive forgiveness of sin.



I think as modern-day Christians we forget how serious sin is to God. We quote a simple and thoughtless prayer of "God, forgive my sins" and move on. In the Old Testament, people recognized the seriousness of sin. I need to recognize the seriousness of Jesus' sacrifice of himself in order that I can have salvation. I no longer have to do those rituals. I can have a personal relationship with him. This is wonderful.

Okay, so the purpose of this blog is not to preach to you. I just want you to give Leviticus a chance. You just might learn something. I did.

Pick-up Lines

In honor of Valentine's Day, I'd like to share a few pick-up lines with you. Feel free to try these out on your Valentine!

You're so hot I had to put on sunblock just to come over here and talk to you.

Kiss me if I'm wrong, but have we met before?

Was that an earthquake, or did you just rock my world?

If I had a nickel for everytime I saw someone as beautiful as you, I'd have five cents.

Ouch. I just bit my lip... Would you kiss it and make it better?

Hi, I'm Mr. Right... someone said you were looking for me.

God must have been showing off when He made you.

Do you beleive in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?

Baby, if you were words on a page, you'd be what they call fine print!

When I saw you across the room, I tripped and fell... I'm going to need your name and number for insurance purposes.

Excuse me, I think you have something in your eye. Nope, it's just a sparkle.

Somebody needs to call the SWAT team, because you're the bomb!

If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put U and I together.

If a fat man puts you in a bag at night, don't worry.....I told Santa I wanted you for Christmas.

You're so beautiful, you made me forget my pickup line.

For more pickup lines, check out the app "Pick-ups", for Iphones. I hope these made you smile!

Immense Patience

I am impatient. I really want to be patient, but just like the cartoon illustrates, I don't want to wait to be patient. I don't want to put in the hard work.

One of my major pet peeves, always seems to occur at Wal-mart. You know those lines that are for 10 or 20 items or less? The point of those lines is to make it easier for the shopper with only a few items to get through the line faster. It's a great idea. If it worked. What kills me is when you get in line at the 10 items or less line and the person in front of you has like 57 items in their cart. You can try to give them a dirty look to hopefully make them repent. I try that sometimes, but usually that doesn't work. They just give you this what-are-you-gonna-do-about-it look, and then they continue piling their stuff on the counter. Agh. I can't deal with that. Just to be clear, let me explain a little about myself. I am a rule follower. Seriously, ask my mom. I like to follow rules, and it really bothers me when others don't. I never break the 10 items or less rule. You may be saying, "Ha, sure you don't," with a sarcastic tone in your voice. But, I guarantee you, I always count every single item in my cart to make sure I am following this rule. Call me OCD or whatever you want. I just like to follow the rules. So, after reading this little rant you are probably convinced that I have a problem with patience.

Lance was teaching on patience last night with the youth. He showed the little cartoon, and I thought it was so great I had to blog about it. He also had a list of verses from the Bible that focus on patience. All the verses were good, but one of them really stuck out to me. In fact, it distracted me from the rest of the lesson. I couldn't stop reading and rereading this verse. It is a verse written by Paul to his young friend Timothy. Let me share it with you. Read it a couple of times.

But for this very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his immense patience as an example for those who would believe in him and receive eternal life. Timothy 1:16

Did you read it a couple times? What did you think? This blew my mind.

Paul was once a really bad guy in the Bible. His name was once Saul. He was so evil that he persecuted the early church and killed anyone who believed in Jesus. He was proud and arrogant. In his words, he was the "worst of sinners." In this verse, Paul is saying that Jesus showed him mercy, in order to display His amazing patience. Paul calls it immense patience. Jesus was immensely patient with Paul, so that Paul's story could be an example of forgiveness. This means that Jesus is also immensely patient with us. Before we had Jesus in our hearts we were just like Paul, "the worst of sinners." And even now, as imperfect people Jesus has to daily be patient with us. As another example, think about what Jesus told Peter when he asked how many times should he forgive people who sin against him? Jesus' answer was "seventy times seven." Think about that. Jesus told Peter to forgive over and over again, Therefore, we can be sure that he believes and does the same. Jesus forgives us over and over again. That is immense patience.

The King Cake

The King Cake. Some of you reading this may find your mouth watering when hearing this phrase. Others may feel quite indifferent, and still there is the occasional Alaskan reader who may be a little confused by this unusual name. Until my recent move to the Mississippi Gulf Coast (or close to it) I was very uneducated about this cherished New Orleans and Gulf Coast tradition. I would like to share with you my limited knowledge of this special treat and what it means to people here on the Gulf Coast. Feel free to correct any of my misunderstandings or add your own info and experience's.

My first experience with King Cake was years ago when I first moved to Mississippi. It was cafeteria King Cake in Mississippi College's caf, and it was weird. And not very tasty. I was told by a few southern friends that I shouldn't base my opinion of King Cake on that one experience, and they encouraged me to try "real" King Cake. This opinion makes logical sense to me. After all, it was cafeteria food. However, the opportunity never presented itself. So, last week was the first time I ever had "real" King Cake, and let me tell you it was an, uh, interesting experience. First of all, I had to eat it alone, which is no fun at all. Lance brought me home a piece from a staff meal that I couldn't attend because Caleb had the flu. Apparently, at the meal, everyone was talking about some baby that they were looking for. Since, I had never had "real" King Cake, I didn't know anything about the problem of the missing baby or that I had to worry about a baby at all while eating King Cake. Boy, was I wrong. Lance brought me a take-home box with my dinner and King Cake, and then he left without mentioning the missing baby. I know those of you who don't know what King Cake is, are quite confused now about this missing baby.... But stay with me, and we will get to that. So, there I was, eyeing this brightly colored cake which looked to me like some kind of strange mix between a cherry pastry and birthday cake with a gazillion sprinkles. (It sorta looked like whoever was putting on the sprinkles accidentally lost the top and just decided to pour the entire container onto the cake.) Anyway. I decided to give it a try. I used my fork to get a nice, big bite and put it into my mouth.......Crunch. I thought, "What? Crunch? Cake is not supposed to crunch." (This is about to get a little graphic for those of you with weak stomachs.) So, I chew around this hard thing in my mouth, decide it's definitely not edible, and decide that there is no way I'm swallowing it. At this point, I am glad that I am not at the staff meal where I would have to pull a half-eaten piece of something out of my mouth. So, I slowly pull out the hard thing....And you would not believe what I found.....A naked, plastic baby! No, I am not kidding you people. There was a naked, plastic baby in my cake. Apparently, it is normal for there to be naked, plastic babies in King Cakes, but did Lance or anyone else care to clue me in on this? Nope. I got to find out on my own. A very strange experience.

I have to admit I wasn't super impressed. The overabundance of sprinkles was a little much, and the mixture of flavors was unusual for me. I'm sorry, but I'm not a King Cake fan. It did intrigue me though. I mean, how many cakes have naked, plastic babies in them? Not too many that I've heard of before. So I decided to do a little research.

King cake is a traditional food of Mardi Gras. Mardi Gras celebrations begin on Twelfth Night, after a period of time called Epiphany, which are the twelve days following Christmas. Mardi Gras ends on the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday. It is also known as Fat Tuesday. Mardi Gras is french for Fat Tuesday. King Cake is a dessert that people enjoy during Mardi Gras season. It is made of dough similar to cinnamon coffee cake dough, and it is twisted into an oval. Different cakes are made different ways. Many are filled with fruit and cream cheese. The cake is usually covered in purple, green and gold sprinkles. Purple stands for justice. Green stands for faith, and gold represents power. Since making king cakes has become such a popular tradition, many bakers specialize in making different types and colored cakes. There is one thing that most King Cakes have in common, and that is the baby. There is a plastic baby inserted into the cake. The tradition is that whoever finds the baby has to buy the next cake.

I looked into the history and meaning behind King Cakes, and I found a lot of information. A good bit of the information was inconsistent. King Cakes have been around for so many years. King Cake is in celebration of the three kings who went to visit Baby Jesus. January 6th is called King's Day, and is believed by some to be the day that the wise men visited Jesus, twelve days after Christmas. The baby inside the King Cake is supposed to represent Jesus. I also saw some stories about a group called Twelfth Night Revelers, which began celebrations in the 1870s. On the traditional Catholic holiday of Mardi Gras, they threw a carnival. At the carnival a make-believe king and queen were crowned. The person who found a gold bead in their cake was the king or queen for the next year.

Even though I am not so crazy about King Cake, I did enjoy learning about it. So, everyone enjoy some King Cake this Mardi Gras, and watch out for the baby!

My puppy dog thinks he is a little boy and my little boy thinks he is a puppy dog

It all started in June of 2009. I had been bugging my husband for months asking for a dog. I wanted something to "mother." Something to snuggle, care for, spoil, and love. For an early birthday present, Lance let me pick out an adorable black mutt. I was in love. He was a sweet, cuddly little dog who was very content to sit in my lap for hours. And hours. Well, needless to say, if you treat a dog like a little boy, he will begin to believe that he is one. I guess somewhere in my heart I knew that. I even used to make fun of people who treated their pets like humans. I can't say I was as bad as some of the stories I've heard. I don't throw my dog birthday parties or dress him up for Halloween. Since I wasn't as bad as some people, I tricked myself into thinking it was okay to let my dog behave as a human. It didn't get really bad until Max got a little brother. He now had competition for Mommy's attention. Now Max the dog believes he has every right to just as much love and attention as his little brother.

So now that you know the back story, let me explain how I came to the conclusion that my dog thinks he is a little boy.

1. He is 40 pounds and loves to sit in my lap. Not next to me. Not at my feet. In my lap.

2. He refuses to go outside to potty in the rain. He would rather hold it for hours than get wet.

3. If he does happen to get a little teeny-tiny drip of rain on him, he flops his entire body on the ground and rolls around until he is completely dry. Doesn't want for his fur to get messed up from the water. We call him a little prince.

4. He tries to trick us by hopping in the bed at night before we catch him so he can sleep in the bed.

5. If he happens to get lucky enough to sleep in the bed, he can't sleep on top of the covers like a normal dog. No, he must sleep underneath the covers. Then, in the middle of the night he has to get up out of the covers to stretch and then get back underneath, nestle down, and go back to sleep. Oh and he has to sleep in-between us.

6. If we don't allow him to sleep with us at night (which I can proudly say we no longer allow) he has to sleep in a crate with a fluffy cushion. He does not lay on the cushion like a normal dog. No, he balls the cushion up in one corner to create a pillow to lay his head.

7. When I get on the floor to play with Caleb, Max squeezes himself in-between the baby and I, and he sticks his nose in my face. He demands my attention.

8. Max has this great, deep guard-dog bark, perfect for scaring off strangers. He doesn't mind using it late at night when squirrels are scurrying past the window. However, if Lance decides to go check out what Max is barking at, he cowardly hides behind my legs and refuses to go outside. Wuss.

So, my dog thinks he is a little boy. Now, let me tell you what makes me think that my little boy thinks he is a dog.

1. I find him with everything in his mouth, including half-eaten dog bones. Yuck.

2. He loves to chew on the soles of my shoes.

3. When crawling across the floor at a fast pace, he begins panting like a puppy dog, especially when excited.

4. His new favorite place to play is the dog crate.

5. His favorite toy is the dog's water bowl, especially when it is filled with water.

I can happily say that Max and Caleb are best friends, even if their roles are a little confused. There is nothing Max loves more than hovering around the highchair at dinner, hoping that his buddy will stick a food covered hand down for a little lick. Caleb is also completely overjoyed to be the recipient of licks and a little friendly wrestling in the floor. I'm glad they are buds. Max is the perfect dog for us, even if he is a little spoiled. And Caleb is a treasure and a joy, and and he always keeps us laughing!

Ello-minnow-pee?

For Christmas, Caleb got this adorable Alphabet Caterpillar. It is put out by LeapFrog. It has 26 little legs, and there is a letter on each leg. Mommy can set the caterpillar on different settings such as: alphabet sounds, letter names, games, or songs. Let me tell you, as a former first grade teacher, this kind of a toy makes me excited. I love toys and games that teach phonics and letters. Naturally, I greatly enjoy educational games. Although Caleb is a little young to be reciting the alphabet, he still likes the toy. He gets super excited when the caterpillar's antenna light up as it "talks" and "sings."

I would like to point out that even though Caleb does love this toy along with his many other blocks, stuffed animals, balls and light-up games, his favorite things to play with are not baby toys. He loves grown-up toys. His top favs are daddy's ipod, the laptop (which for a short time last week was missing the letter P after you-know-who got ahold of it), and mommy's cell phone. The latter "grown-up toy," my cell phone, has a jammed number 8 button. Just in case you get a text from me that is missing the letters t, u, or v, now you know why. I am sort of contemplating the idea of stopping buying toys for this kid until he's about 3. Honestly, he is more content playing with pots and pans than the faniciest toys Fisher Price can put out. In fact, this afternoon, Caleb played with a large plastic spoon and spatula for 20 minutes while I was cooking. Twenty minutes! Do you know how long he would have lasted playing with one of his kid toys? Oh.... about 19 minutes shorter than that. Anyway, before you get mad at me and report me to child's services for abusing my child and not buying him toys, let me assure you that as long as grandparents are around Caleb will never lack in the toy department! ;-) And those of you freaking out about small buttons choking small children, rest assured that Caleb is not allowed to play with things like cell phones and laptops, he just doesn't seem to understand that concept, yet.

Okay, I chased a little bit of a rabbit there. Back to the Alphabet Caterpillar. Let me remind you, that I really like this toy. And I really like Leapfrog. And I really like the alphabet and do not have a problem with caterpillars in general. However... this cute little caterpillar plays a song that has me quite annoyed, and I would like to share it with you:

A, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, ello-minnow-pee..... Huh? What? You are probably wondering what-in-the-heck kinda alphabet has the letter ello-minnow-pee after the letter k. Well, let me introduce you to Sarah Sudduth's pet peeve #1. It gets on my last nerve when teachers and parents teach their children to sing the alphabet song so incredibly fast that they have no clue what letters they are singing! L-M-N-O-P would be the main problem letters. But, I try to be understanding. Most parents don't realize that this will be a problem. But Leapfrog? Come on! Don't you people do studies on education? You advertise being one of the best for learning games, and yet you are teaching preschoolers that the letter between K and Q is ello-minnow-pee! Seriously? You can do better.