It's all in me head! It's all in me head!

Have you ever had a conversation with yourself. I did. It went like this.

"Diva, you went to bed late last night."

"Yes."

"Do you remember what you decided?"

"No more going to bed at midnight."

"That's correct. Any idea why you fell off the band wagon?"

"Old habits die hard?"

"That's an old habit from your 20's. Remember when you didn't have as many kids and you didn't know that sleep is integral to health and skin elasticity. Remember what old people look like who have lived wild? It's not pretty, Diva. You don't want that to be you."

"I don't. It's true."

"So...."

"So....?"

"So, what are you not going to do tonight?"

"I won't stay up late watching a movie. Ever again. And then I won't have a flabby face when I am 55."

"This time you mean it?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

"Good. Now go have some mint tea and try not to talk to yourself today."

Hoito

Pumpkins from Harvest Time Past

Before I reveal this year's masterpieces--take a look at what we did one year.

Cinderalla pumpkin carriage--go Inez!

Sparklers inside our pumpkins...because that's how we roll

This one is a bit blurry, but it's someone with their hands on their face as they say, "oh!"

Like chewing cud-only not-since I'm not a cow

Trust in the LORD, and do good;

Dwell in the land, and feed on His faithfulness.

Psalm 37:3

I've been feeding on His faithfulness today.

Just thinking, and reminiscing on how faithful He is and how dramatic He can be when He comes through at what seems like the last possible moment. Here are a few to share with you:

-The x-ray technician told us that we would miscarry our first child. He looked at the screen and showed us how the egg was imploding, told us that there were vital parts missing and that if we looked at what he was showing us we would see a very broken beginning.

We went home that day and prayed. I told the Lord that I would worship Him and call Him good no matter what happened. I believed Him for a miracle but trusted all things to His care. He spoke the word "Shalom" to me and gave me a poem to go with it. I looked up the Hebrew meaning of the word Shalom and it means "complete peace, total wholeness, nothing missing, nothing broken." And that's exactly how my daughter was born.

-At 9:27 pm one night, the Lord instructed me to stop what I was doing and pray for protection over my husband. I found Psalm 91 and declared the Lord's promises. My husband came home one hour later. The vehicle he was in what side swiped while stopped at a red light by a vehicle that was traveling 80 km/h.

It left a small dent and nothing more.

-My husband shared with me how he felt the Lord was telling him to go on paternity leave when we had our last child. At first, I panicked knowing it would cut our single-income family to an even more meager amount. As I prayed, the Lord only spoke to me with the simple words of "Trust Me." My husband went on sabbatical, much to the derision of family members.( I love how he would rather be obedient to God than to anyone else). He had no promise of a job as he took sabbatical, but got on His face before God and pursued His presence like nobody's business. When we had a $200 commitment that needed to be paid and we waited on God to provide, our church called saying that someone had donated some money for us and left it with them.

It was the exact amount we needed.

My husband went to Africa--a dream that he's always had in his heart. In three weeks, a five thousand dollar trip was fundraised. Money that came from very unlikely places. And nothing we could do ourselves as we were on...a meager income. He came home and reminded me that paternity benefits would run out in the next week and a half. We prayed for about two minutes--we knew that the Lord had specified this time off for His purpose in our lives-- so we knew He would provide a job.

And He did. The guy who took over for my husband left that job a week before our paternity pay ran out. My husband had his old job back. A job he loves.

-My father died 19 years ago today. I found myself fatherless.

. But then He found me. He picked up my broken heart and broken life and gave me His Son who died broken so that I could be whole. Nothing missing, nothing broken. Totally whole.

For this feast, I give thanks. Shalom.

What a novel idea! And now the news...

Good morning. Our top story this morning is one of exhausting proportions.

I was up from 3:30 am-4:30 am with a sick girlie

I woke up at 5:15 am with a chipper boy-ca

I made pumpkin tarts for breakfast

I went back to sleep at 7:30 am and tucked all the kiddies for a nap. I was on the edge of becoming a grumpy cow.

I turned on the computer, checked the weather and saw this:

Snowfall warning in effect

Today

Rain changing to snow early this morning. Snowfall amount 10 to 15 cm. Local blowing snow. Wind northwest 30 km/h gusting to 50. Temperature steady near plus 1.

I'm going back to bed!

And this special bulletin has just been handed to me. Thanks to this website, I was reminded of what I've wanted to do for many a November now. And this November I'm going to do it. I am now an official member of this year's NaNoWriMo. (Loosely translated as the National Novel Writing Month). Yup. I'm going to write a novel starting November 1st. So, stay tuned to this station for the next week or so as I will be giving you a chance to name a character, pick a plot twist and read the opening pages.

I will keep you posted as this story unfolds. And now a word from our sponsors....

Saucy-Saucy-Uber-Saucy

I did not spend the majority of the day re-organizing my linen closet. No, I didn't. I wasn't even inspired when I saw this closet and thought, "I could do that too!" I don't do things because other people have done them. That's copying and I am completely original...and organized.

I did not throw stuffed animals at my children today because that would be ignoring all warning labels on toys and I always pay attention to the labels. I didn't let me 13 month old feed himself a saucy-saucy-super-saucy meal tonight because I was too lazy to do it myself. Nutrition is important and developing positive eating habits is vital to good health-I wouldn't jeopardize that.

I did not make more work for myself by letting my son feed himself an uber-saucy meal that required an immediate bath following dinner. After all, I'm organized and don't waste my time getting caught with unplanned work. (see above for proof)

And when my little family came up to me while blogging and demonstrated that they knew how digestion worked by dropping carrots from their backside, I did not roll my eyes and stifle a laugh. Digestion and all the sounds that go with it are not funny.

It's not.

Pffffffft.

***by the way, the aforementioned announcement that is supposed to happen today will be told tomorrow. My timer rang and I'm outta blog time!

I know...the suspense! Oh, the suspense...

Friday Flashback: And that's why I don't drink lemonade

OK, before Friday Flashback begins...I must tell you to come back here on Monday. That's right...come back Monday. Semi-sorta biggish news being announced then.

When I was little I drank some lemonade. I thought it was gross. It rolled around in my mouth for a minute and then I spit it back in my glass.

And then I poured the glass back into the pitcher.

"What did you just do?" Big sister Lori Ann said with her most authoritative voice that mimicked my Mom's angry voice.

Fear and trembling fell upon me, so I decided to omit certain truths. "Nothing."

"I saw you. I saw you gargle the lemonade, put it in the cup and then into the pitcher."

I just stared blankly, hoping the incident would go away.

"That is dis-gus-ting! Do you know what you just did? No one can drink that now. You put all your germy germs in their and now no one can have that."

"Well, I didn't like it."

"That's no excuse," Lori Ann said, once again sounding quite motherish. "You are going to drink this whole jug now."

"NO!"

"Yes!"

"No."

"Yes."

Here's the thing. Lori Ann was bigger than me, she was six years older and babysitting me and she had this really firm grip on my arm. So I relented and started to drink the jug of lemonade, gagging the whole time.

Well, you can only get so far before the inevitable happens.

"I have to go pee, Lori."

"No."

"I do. I have to go."

"Fine, but you're still drinking the lemonade. Don't think this bathroom trick is going to get you out of anything."

There I was, on the toilet. My little seven year old self drinking and peeing lemonade.

It was a rude and harsh introduction to manners when it comes to double dipping.

But it worked.

Scarringly, so.

And that's why I don't like yellow beverages.

How about you? What was your Friday Flashback about manners? Was it as horrifying as mine or quite pleasant?

Oh, for the love of Monte Cristo Sandwiches!

Thanks for all those great comments from my last post!

After I read them, I re-read my post and realized that, in some ways, it sounded like a desperate cry for some blog-love for this diva.

I want to put your mind at ease. If I was desperate and wanted to shamelessly ask for blog-love, it would go something like this:

Nobody loves me

Everybody hates me

Think I'll go eat worms...

How I wish someone cared. I wonder if anyone reads my blog. I'm mean really...what's the point anymore...I might as well pull the plug on my imac and call 'er quits. Siggggggghhhhhh. Why doesn't anyone care?

Does anyone care?

Do you care????

Do you?

You should.

Naturally, I would never even contemplate such a selfish post. I've got better things to do. Like bonding with my library's copy of Rachael Ray's Express Lane Meals. I'm rockin' the love boat with these wafflewiches.

Doesn't everyone want one?

Don't you want one????

Don't you?

You should.

Does anyone else here suffer from blog envy?

I do.

This isn't the first time I've written about being jealous.

Jealousy. Coveting. Envy. It's all green and I find that it's happening to me as I look at blogs lately.

It's starts with a simple..."ohhh, look what they are doing?"

And then it moves to..."I would write a blog just like this if I lived there."

And then, the ominous, "Why don't I have a house that looks like that?"

"Hey, I should take up knitting. Everybody's doing it!"

"You know what I need to do? I need to craft more. I need to buy more crafty things or junk that I can re-finish and make look crafty."

"Why is my blog only about God's grace in the midst of my embarrassing moments that I seem to collect like a bad hobby? Why aren't I showing the world how to make paper from leftover spaghetti noodles or use dryer lint to make an emergency shelter? Where are my skills???"

Ahem.

And then, you read over what you've just written and you say, "It sounds very childish to be jealous."

So, you pull your thumb out of your mouth and you go back to looking at blogs and make an imaginary list of things you want to do...one day....one day.

DISCLAIMER: I do not know how to make an emergency shelter out of lint or noodles into paper. It was joke.

You can read Pride and Prejudice online? You bet your dupa!

I unearthed this from my email inbox--remember, I told you about these? Here are some excerpts from a letter I wrote to a friend who lives in Thailand. (I love you, Beckkkkkky!) She deserves a blog post all her own and one day I will write about her. (She's in the top 5 hall of fame of the best type of friends a girl can have).

Here is how I write a letter with very little sleep under my belt:

Dear Becky-Jean,

So...update on life. I got a hair straightener for Christmas.

I read the book Pride and Prejudice online.

Yup, on the computer. I googled it and there it was.

It sounded like a good idea at the time. It did.

Really.

I couldn't get to the library and I had never read it before. And, hello, I live in North America and have no concept of waiting, so I went online. It was very good, and although I had sore eyes, I'm glad that I got to read it.

My youngest girl is walking and consequently trying to climb up the bookshelf and eat bottles of food colouring. She says "hi". Not sure if it's a general statement or if it's directed at you.

I was on the tv show Behind the Scenes and in my own unbiased opinion, I have to say that I looked very, very good on TV :) Thank you Revlon for making sparkly eyeshadow.

God is awesome (I was hoping to have something surprising to write, but you know Jesus, He's always consistent with Himself) I've been growing in His word a lot and been learning about forgiveness again (one day I am going to write a book called "When will the Healing end?" followed by a sequel "Will it ever end?" and then the trilogy clincher "Just accept it. You will need healing until your last breath, and by then, it won't really matter because you'll be face to face with Jesus and you are going to worship for all eternity” I'm expecting it will become a bestseller. Possibly a movie deal.)

I'm contemplating doing a triatholon this year. Not sure if I want to have a baby or to swim,bike and run. It's a tough call. They are kind of the same thing--except you look better in a bathing suit for one of them.

After 6 months I've finally unpacked every box from our move this summer.Which is perfect timing, because now I can use those empty boxes to start packing up our stuff for the move in May!

I ate a bag of dark truffles chocolate and now I despise milk chocolate candy--beware of the best...it spoils the good for you.

I spent New Year's with L. We were both without our husbands. I ate ham out of politeness because I don't actually eat pork, but I didn't know how to tell L. that, so I ate it and said that it was a good meal. This weighs heavy on my conscious....

I watched the Pride and Prejudice movie with Keira Knightley seven times in a span of 8 days. This prompted me to read the book.

Online. I read it online. I know I told you that, but it bears repeating.

Everyone tells me that the A&E version with Colin Firth is better. I'm eagerly anticipating the opportunity to verify this piece of information. My subsequent lack of vehicle has prevented me from obtaining such an opportunity, but I am conviced that the right moment will come and when it does, I will seize it and use it to my full advantage. ... I am still talking about renting a movie, right?

I think I need sleep. Or chocolate. Or a combination of both.

Miss you and hope that you are eating food that is good for your digestive system.

Love, Diva-Allie

If you liked this letter, you will laugh harder at this one.

I'm doing this for your own good

It may have been a while since I last stated my opinion about Facebook.

I found something that says it for me. Enjoy, my friends!

Do you have this disease?

The Very Curious Case of the Crumbling Cookies

I am not a baker. I've never claimed to be one.

I don't really do the whole baking thing well.

My one skill is cracking an egg with one hand. I learned this from Audrey Hepburn in the film Sabrina. She said, in a mock French accent, "It's all in the wrist(e)!" And now when I bake I pretend I'm as elegant as Audrey and I use some serious wrist action when I break the eggs open. But that's where we part ways. Where Audrey learned to make a souffle, I have never eaten one. And wear Audrey can pull off a mock French accent, I cannot.

Wait! We both can wear black like nobody's business, so maybe I'm not too upset that I can't bake like her. Take this example of today's cookie.

Folks, it's either feast or famine here--in that, I either have these flat squishy things or round, plump balls of dough that look like round, plump balls of dough. So, for the sake of my children--because we do know that a mother's cookies are the hallmark of childhood--please tell me what I need to do to make a cookie that look like these? Clearly, I need your help.

While my children are satisfied with the licking of the wooden spoon, the cookies have suffered a cruel fate. They ended up in a shapeless...

formless...

gooey...

messy...

um, chocolatey, crumbly melt in my mouth and sing to my stomach type of mess!

I guess they weren't all bad ;)

Of course I did this tonight because of what I cooked for dinner

I miss-my childhood

I am so loving my newly painted kitchen!

I wish - that my house was fantastically clean and perfectly organized. As in ,I never have to clean again!

Something that made me laugh recently -was today's game of Poetry Theatrics. It's a game my kids and I made up. Somebody picks a topic and you immediately have to perform a poem that you are making up on the spot. Today my poem was The Pirate Thief!

I'm hungry for - a hug from my hubby. I miss my man.

I'm listening to my daughter saying that I am a yummy mommy and delicious to eat.

My girls are dancing around and singing and jumping up and down

Anndrew is - in his high chair

Dinner tonight is - Indian Chicken Masala with clove-spiced rice and traditional Naan bread. The secret is in the sauce, my friends. It's all about using cinnamon sticks over crushed cinnamon.

I'm drinking water

I would like to know how to get strike through font style working on my blog. Help? Anyone know?

I see out the window -snow, snow, wet street, snow

Now I'm going to introduce you to a new blog pal.

I borrowed this little survey from my new blog buddy-Her Household. She's got an inner diva and some serious style. Check her out here!

I wouldn't eat paint

This weekend, I did not forgo celebrating a traditional Thanksgiving meal for painting our kitchen. I would never do that. That sounds selfish, and there is not a selfish bone in my body.

And even if we did paint, I would never bribe a friend to join us by providing a fake Thanksgiving supermarket-roasted-chicken meal for them. You don't keep friends by bribing them. And I keep all my friends.

We did not leave my husband to do the hard work of painting the ceiling. I wouldn't do that. I stand by man. I wouldn't ever leave him to do the dirty work...even if it was for a run to get chocolate covered almonds at 8:55 pm at night.

And I most certainly did not show up at the supermarket 3 minutes to closing time. My friend and I did not run up and down the aisles playing, "Look what I can do?" and then jump in the air and click our heels. We are mature adults. Only leprechauns click their heels, and I'm not one of those, so clearly there was not of that going on this weekend. And we didn't stand and cheer for the janitor as he buffed the floor. We would never stand and applaud a stranger's work as that might embarrass him or us. Our mothers have taught us better than that.

And when we got home, we did not slack on our painting duties by re-enacting the drama that enfolded at the supermarket so that my husband could see what he missed out on. I would never rub someone's nose in the fun that they missed, it's not couth. I am always couth.

And when my friend left, I didn't pick up a paint brush and twiddle my thumbs giving a false appearance of working. I didn't shirk my part of the job and eat chocolate almonds. Not even when my hands we're covered in paint and flecks of the rubber-duck-yellow-paint-choice was on the chocolate. I would not eat paint.

Not ever.

Not even if my was my last piece of chocolate covered almond.

Hey, a girl's gotta have some standards.

Whispered Treasures

As I was putting my youngest daughter to bed last night, she slipped her arms around my neck and said, "Mommy, I have something to tell you."

"Yes?"

She pulled my head close and turned it just so she could whisper to me.

"Jesus loves you."

She paused and I nodded.

"He really, really does, Mom."

THIS is so true.

Sometimes as parents, as adults and as people we can forget the simple Truth. So let me remind you friends, Jesus loves you. You, the person reading this. Jesus loves you.

He really, really does.

I kid you not...

This morning I woke up and IT. IS. SNOWING!

Yes, I said it.

S-N-O-W-I-N-G.

Excuse me while I go and cry.

Waaaaaaaaaah!

If your nose is running...catch it!

So, I was coughing up blood the other day.

A teacher once told me, "Always make your opening statements lure your audience in."

I'm not trying to do that here...although, you have to admit, it is an effective opening.

I've been mulling this post in my brain for a while now and trying to phrase it in a less than dramatic way. But since I am a self-proclaimed redeemed diva, drama still follows me around. This story is no different.

It all started with a ride to the big city. I had a typical morning of getting my kids in the car and as I hurtled down the main highway at 110 km/h...ok, I was going 6 over at 116 km/h...I started coughing. Only something was different about this cough...there was blood.

And then--stop reading if you have a queasy stomach or are pregnant and tend to get queasy--I could feel blood running down my throat. Lots of it.

I pretty much panicked at this point and thought, "What in the world is going on?" I took a few deep breaths as I heard my girls start laughing in the back. Keep it together, I told myself, your reaction is going to determine how worried your kids get. A few, deep calming breaths between coughs and I started to feel a little more sane.

Suddenly, a fountain of blood burst forth from my nose. Then blood started gushing everywhere and all I could see was red. Well, red and the highway sign saying to slow down. It might not sound like much, but seeing the "SLOW DOWN" sign was the straw that broke the camel's back. I couldn't handle pressure like that. Bleeding profusely and obeying traffic laws?! Too much stress.

I panicked.

I eventually did manage to slow down and then picked up the phone. Blubbering, I left a weepy message for my husband on his voicemail. I managed to choke out a message between sobs. "Honey, it's me. I'm coughing up blood and there's blood everywhere. I'm going to emergency. I just thought I'd let you know. Please don't worry." (Seriously, gotta love how I leave a horrific message and end it with please don't worry. I might as well said, "Hey, the earth's going to explode in 4 hours, do you still want roast beef for dinner? Lesson to observe here: panicking causes ludicrous statements to be said.)

I called someone to come and meet me at ER so that they could watch my kids for me. I call 911 and told them my situation and they asked many questions which were really the same question all verifying that I wasn't dizzy and felt safe enough to drive the 5 minutes to ER.

I get to the ER and my bleeding nose and bloody coughs have stopped. My shaking hands haven't. I gather my courage and my children and walk measured steps to the ER. I tell my story to the ER nurse.

She looks at me through 5 inches of plastic window plastered with WASH YOUR HANDS, PREVENT SWINE FLU posters, "It sounds like it was a bleeding nose."

"Yes, I know that. However, my doctor has been doing all sorts of blood tests on me this past week since I got my yearly physical and is trying to determine the cause of--" I trail off. She doesn't care. She just responds with, "I understand. I just would hate to have you sit here to find out it's just a bloody nose. There is a four hour wait."

Right.

I mumble something about going to see my doctor across the street (why is it when we are in the midst of crisis that we lose all faculties of privacy and just blab every thought out loud?)

I gather my dignity and my children and walk over to the clinic. I try to refrain from telling the nurse at this desk too much. It just comes off as suspicious and she raises her eyebrows at me (why is it in the midst of crisis that we lose all faculties of openness and clam up like a...clam?)

I have an appointment with the doctor in twenty minutes.

My friend comes in the door. "How did you know I was here?" I hadn't called her and told her.

"Oh, the ER nurse said you mentioned something about walking to a clinic. I figured it be this one. " (thanks God for redeeming unnecessary out loud thinking that took place when I lost all ability to think clearly)

My phone rings. It's Jeep. "I'm on my way. And so is Pastor Todd."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're coughing up blood!" I hear the tension, the desperation, the worry in his voice. Didn't I tell him not to worry.? Now, I scared him. My big, strong man is worried and driving like a maniac to get to me.

"Where are you?" I ask.

"Just reaching the SLOW DOWN sign outside of the city."

I update him on all that's going on, even though I still don't know what's going on.

My name is called. I sit in the doctor's office and I look at the the grey checks on the linoleum. I feel fear rising in my throat. I choke it down and say, "God has not given me a Spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind. Jesus, please help me, I need a sound mind. Thank You for being here with me. I know that You are with me even in the most horrible situations. Thank You for your presence."

I sit quietly and listen for His voice. I hear Him say He loves me, that He hasn't left me and then I hear Him say, "It's ok to cry."

So, the dam releases and I have a good cry with Jesus at my side.

And then I feel all better and I suddenly know that no matter what the doctor says, no matter what the results, Jesus will be glorified. He will be glorified because I will praise Him and declare Him worthy of all honour and glory and praise no matter what comes my way.

So tears turn to singing and I find myself singing this song (Atonement)

Well, it turns out that it was...

(drumroll)

a nosebleed! Apparently they are common in the dry west!

My husband took time off work, my Pastor came in the midst of a busy day and my friend left work to watch my kids...all because of an overactive imagination that encountered a bleeding nose while traveling down the road at high speeds.

I felt so embarrassed. Exhausted. Tired. Emotionally Drained.

And loved.

Overwhelmingly so.