Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Again, a sentence I'm not proud to have written.
The notice was to all of her friends who had been married for at least 10 years. I immediately took notice because Trey and I have been married for almost 15 years. Fourteen of which have been pretty great. Our first, not so much - I was a year out of college and maybe a little selfish. I'm just keepin' it real. And understated.
Anyway, the post was looking for married couples who have little points of contention. Not the big guns like affairs, divorce, etc. but the small stuff that, no matter how much we try, we all sweat a little. It was for a t.v. show developed by Jerry Seinfeld. Seriously, as soon as I read that, I knew it was going to be funny and determined that Trey and I were for sure going to apply.
A. He thinks my car is too messy (let the six children ride in his car everyday).
B. He doesn't like me touching him with my feet when we sleep.
C. He becomes frustrated when he finds all four cordless phones on one table - completely dead.
I totally entered us. Laughing my head off at the prospect, I sent an email, a picture, and a sonnet I'd written about how much Jerry Seinfeld makes me laugh.
I made that last part up.
The next day, NBC called. N.B.C called my house and asked for me, Melissa Hill of the hood Hill's.
"Yes, Melissa, we got your email and our producers will be in Texas in a week and would love to talk with you and your husband about being on our show."
Now came the uncomfortable part - the part where I sound like an idiot and say, "Yeah, well, um, I guess I'd better ask my husband first. He doesn't exactly know I applied."
Guess how great Trey thought the idea was? Not even half that much. I think his exact words were, "No way, no how, never. I'd get a pedicure before we'd go on a show like that."
When he threw out the whole, "I'd get a pedicure first", thing, I knew there was no arguing, convincing, cajoling. That boy does not believe pedicures were meant for men and will go to his grave with un-pedified toes.
Honestly, it was one of the things I thought we could talk about on the show before millions of viewers.
Tonight, I saw a preview for the show. It airs February 28th.
On the preview, a husband and wife were arguing because she kept the ashes of her dead first husband in their living room. And his prosthetic leg in their closet.
Although it looked hilarious, Trey was possibly right.
I said possibly, not probably.
Can't wait to watch.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
A friend's son fixed it for me and what he lacked in speed, he far and away made up for in price. It is incredibly humbling when a 16 year old child can debug, update, and clean electronics that I, in my mid-(late) thirties can barely turn on. And with that last sentence, I have officially become my mother. Insert sip of coffee with pink rollers in hair.
Anyway, it will be great to be able to write posts on something other than the ridiculously small keyboard on my phone and I may actually be able to visit ya'll's blogs with some sort of consistency. And read the news. I'm a little behind.
Speaking of news, the people of Haiti are still in need of help so if you haven't given, please do so through...
Each of these organizations are doing amazing things to help the people who are suffering in Haiti.
Now, I've gotta run and catch up on my laundry. Somehow, my computer being out of service didn't translate into more time to fold clothes.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Like so many of us, he a slight bent toward over-reaction and I'm convinced, despite the fact that we were not blood, he passed it on to me.
Be it missed directions, traffic, or a glitch in the plans, he would exclaim, "Well, it's just a D&@N DISASTER!!"
The expression, 'Double D' for short, over the years has become somewhat of a family slogan.
Yesterday, I thought of Popo.
One of the errands Sadie and I had on our list was to get food for a few of the pets. Sustinance the likes of which only PetLand carries.
Sadie was giddy. At Petland, you can hold all of the animals. Sadie wanted to hold only two; the four foot long ball python and the ferret - otherwise known as the grossest animal alive.
The latter, mean and viscious as it was, bit my baby. BIT HER!!!
I'm gonna be really honest with you right now and tell you I was a tiny bit thankful. The ferret was, in one small bite, removed from her wish list for all eternity. Score.
In my haste to complete my purchases and get her the heck outta petland, I swiped my card but failed to carefully check my bag.
What I had asked for was 30 large crickets and two pinky-mice. Go ahead and say it, nasty in a plastic bag. I know.
What I got was just that - with a twist. Right before bed, I remembered the bag and told Tee he needed to feed his snake because the frozen pinky mice would probably be thawed and we all know you can't thaw and then refreeze something because it changes the flavor. Whatever.
Hmmm, frozen? Not so much.
I acidentally bought LIVE baby mice.
Insert Double D here.
Why the Double D, you ask? Tears people, tears. Lots of them.
After Trey, in his insensitivity fed one to Julius the snake, the task that fascinated my children when the mice were frozen suddenly became tantamount to murder when they saw those sweet, barely able walk, baby mice.
Through tears literally shooting horizontally from his eyes, Graham cried, "But the box says 'handle with love'. LOVE mom! KILLING THEM IS NOT LOVE, MOM!! NOT LOVE!!"
Despite the fact that I lied and told my children baby mice were ferocious and bit harder than ferrets, Tee was up literally half the night keeping the thing warm and fed. I know because he gave me hourly status reports.
This morning, they named him Alvin thereby guaranteeing that his impending death will be even a bigger Double D than it is already.
There are many lessons to be learned in this, I'm sure. The first of which is that sometimes the Double D is an overreaction and sometimes, it's merely stating the obvious.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Hope ya'll have a great weekend!!
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
The instructions are here.. .http://staceyssweetshop.blogspot.com/search/label/Snowman%20Cookie ..and they're perfect for five year olds who are, um, a little, uh, imprecise, 'cause, you know, they're melting. The only downside I found was that they don't actually qualify for lunch. Off to make something magically delicious. Or turkey sandwiches. Whichever comes first.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
About three years ago, one of the first grade teacher's boys, Carson, was diagnosed with cancer. He was thirteen or fourteen at the time and, to our kids, bigger than life.
This morning, in the words of his precious and valliant mom, "He finished his battle with cancer and has gone home to rest."
All the kids have prayed for him for years but Graham has had an especially tender heart towards this child. We haven't eaten a meal or said bedtime prayers without hearing his name come out of our youngest son. He never personally met Carson but he noticed everything about him from the way he joked and laughed with his big ol' friends on the varsity football team, to how he spoke about Jesus and sports all mixed together when given the opportunity to address the students. Every bit of the life that he saw sent a message to Graham. Of all our kids, he will have the hardest time understanding his death.
Although I didn't know Carson well, I'm so thankful for his life; for the example he was in the midst of suffering, for teaching Graham and so many others his favorite verse and what it looks like to live it out.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Yesterday afternoon, after dropping off a friend of Olivia's, we drove by our old house so the kids could see where they were born.
Actually, they were born in a hospital. I'm not one of those. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But I'm not.
We stopped in front of the house for just a minute. I pointed out the windows that were their rooms, the giant oak tree in the front yard looked just the same, and we talked about long walks we would take all around the neighborhood in their stroller.
And then the sick feeling came and I'm having a hard time shaking it.
It was a sweet life with old houses and pretty trees, lots of neighbors who had kids our kids' ages and invited us over for playdates, and older couples who rocked in chairs on their front porch and waved and spoke as we walked by.
It was easy. And safe. And pleasant.
And I miss it.
I know all the things I'm supposed to know about our call to this neighborhood and 90% of the time, I'm there. I feel it too. I love it. But there are times like now, when my flesh, the dark part of my heart that long for ease and comfort and pretty things, rears back against the gentle words of the Lord who bid us to come and follow Him - wherever that might be.
Last night, I read a passage in a book by Francis Chan. It was about a couple, a mechanic and hairdresser, who, over their lifetime, had fostered 32 children, 16 of which they had adopted. Chan praised them for their obedience to James when he exhorts us to care for the widows and the orphans. But what encouraged me most about the story was their honesty about the trials of the ministry they had begun. Sometimes, they felt the joy in the call and sometimes, in darker seasons, they were spurred forward only by sheer obedience.
Strangely, it was the most encouraging part of the story and I've thought about it all day. Like so many passages in the Bible, their obedience to the Lord trumped everything. They trusted Him most because they knew Him to be trustworthy.
This is a heck of a way to start the New Year, I know. But I'm thinking it could be a good thing. I'm praying that, through this season, I will know the Lord more and rest in the fact that he alone is the Author and Perfecter of my faith.
And there's not a pretty neighborhood in the world that can top Him.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Obviously, I can't not reply to him (let's check the use of that double negative together, shall we?) and the whole thing is messing with my snarky post writing concentration.
Actually, now, another child has interrupted him saying he's "itchy" so I should have a minute while he tends to the ailments that only plague our off-spring at bedtime.
Crested Butte with Trey's whole family was fabulous, and cold, and cozy, and hilarious, all rolled into one.
Look at these icicles! They were like five feet long!
Minutes later, it got progressively less idyllic when Sadie came running in the house screaming, fingers completely white with cold. Her glove had come off midway up the hill and she was "fsruggling" to get back up without her gloves on.
Frostbite, Day One.
I have pictures of the giant blisters that accompanied us the rest of the visit but, for those in the audience with weak stomaches, I'll spare you the visuals.
Because we hadn't skiied either 1. ever or 2. in such a long time we couldn't remember, Dea, Darius, and I took us some lessons.
Darius and I loved it; Dea, not so much. Now that boy can dance and play some basketball but ski, he could not. He for sure got an A for effort, until, with about an hour to go in our day-long lesson, he sat down and said, "Coach, me and these skiis are just not gettin' along."
We definitely got the hang of it and had a great time.
It may not have been his proudest moment, but it's one he'll definitely remember.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
We're ringing in the 2010 at a friend's ranch - having the time of our
lives gettin' muddy and hunting hogs.
I'm over here today... http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/opinion/localvoices/stories/DN-moms--hill_01brf.ART0.State.Edition1.4bc7100.html
... givin' my two cents on parenting
May you know the love and grace of the Lord more this year than last.