Blog about that!

A conversation that took place between my sister, Amesie-laa and I on Skype.

Amesie-laa will be referred to as A

and I will be referred to as me (that's short for redeemed diva, silly!)

A:I'm folding my clothes.

me:I can see that. I love Skype.

A: As do I. So what's new?

me: Not tons. Busy with my babies, helping Jeep with photography. You'se knows...the usual.

A: How's the blog going?

me: Not bad. I guess. Writing funny is hard. How did we become funny?

A: I think it's from Grandma.

me: I think you're right.

A: The other day I was visiting her and we were looking through photos of her. And she is a 'diva'. You should see her outfits. And I said "Gigi, you are so stylish!" And she says,"Was stylish. I was stylish. Now all they have for women my age is slacks.'

me: ruckus laughter.

A: 'slacks and turtlenecks' she says.

me: (more ruckus laughter) Yes, we got our humour from Grandma.

A: Blog about that!

me: increased ruckus laughter

A: Are you writing this down?

me: I am. I am.

A: I hope so. I'm giving you good material here.

me: I know, I know. Hey, you know what I thought about doing?

A:what?

me: I thought about putting up the clip of the time Sandra Bullock impersonated me.

A: I love Sandy!

me: I love that you say it like you know her.

A: Yeah. I love it that you think she impersonated you. You know who could play you? Peter Gabriel would do a good job. (Peter Gabriel is the guy with the thick eyebrows in the film "While You were Sleeping' click here)

me:I’m gonna cry! You are so mean to me.

A: Blog about that. And then link to that post about your eyebrows.

me: The No Wax Revolution? I could do that.

A: You know what's revolutionary? I mean. REV.o.LUTttttttion.ary.

me: No clue.

A: Avocado and scrambed eggs. Oh yeah. I'm going to go make some later.

me: That sounds good. I need a new thing for my avocados. A girl can only eat so much guacamole.

A: You mean 'guacamole'. Say it properly: Walk-a-mole-lay

me: Walk-a-mole-lay

A: Yeah. Bobby Flay's wife is really BIG on saying things with the correct pronunciation.

me: Good to know.

A: It's why we say 'hal-a-peen-yo' pepper and not 'ja-lop-e-no'

me: Jalapeno.

A: Jalepeno!

me:Jalapeno!

A: blog about that! Hey, you know what you can blog about?

me: What?

A: My neighbours.

me: You want me to blog about your neighbours?

A: yeah. Here's why. There's these new guys who live upstairs. Let me tell you, you don’t know how good you have it until your old neighbours are gone.

me: Too true

A:Anyway, I came home one night and the house smelled like cigarettes and maryjane. I shoulda known. I saw one of my neighbours friends last night. He was a total pot head and I thought "Well, that’s just ducky!!!!" I work for the police, for crying out loud.

me: That's an outrage! What ever happened to the simple days of  wearing turtle neck and slacks?

A: I know.Blog about that!

A Place for Lonely Hearts on Mother's Day

To the girl who sits in shaded silence today because her mother died at a young age; you have travelled years of growing up and growing into yourself and look for her whisper of approval in every woman that you have come close to. You've bravely stared today in the face and softly said the words,"I still remember you."

Today can be a lonely day.

To the girl who dreads this day and stays home from church, because she can't bear to hear that there are great moms to honour when she was robbed of that affection from a selfish woman who loved her unhealthy habits more than herself...more than her kids. You are familiar with the feeling of something being not quite right and asking yourself, "Why couldn't I be enough for her?Why would she do that to me?" You quietly ask yourself, "Will I ever do that to my kids?" And then swear to yourself you won't.

Today can be a lonely day.

To the girl who is made to feel small by her mother's words. Whose choices today constantly bring the disapproving sneer and the hard words that hit you across the heart. You wear the brave face of a soldier and weather her comments about your choices and how you are raising your kids.

Today can be a lonely day.

To the girl who is far away from family and watches as everyone else gathers in homes to celebrate, who picks up the phone and tries her best to say the words "I love you" but knowing that a hug would mean more; who struggles with being far away from all that is familiar.

Today can be a lonely day.

And yet the Lord is here.

Jesus will meets us in all of our weaknesses and bring comfort to those who mourn, and hope to the weary. He has placed you here, in the Body of Christ, where you are loved and appreciated for being a Daughter of the King.

He has a destiny and a plan for you.

Psalm 68:6 says so.

He sets the lonely in families.

Today doesn't have to be so lonely.

Friday Flashback: In 9 months time

Welcome to Flashback Friday.
Each Friday I write about something from my past. Sometimes it's meaningful, sometimes it's nonsense. But it all has purpose. Our past moments have all been a part of the story of who we are...so why not tell it!
Join me each Friday as I announce a topic and then we write about it and look back to see how far we've come. (Feel free to link in with old posts)

My friend Camie from My Life in a Blog picked this week's topic. Here's what she choose:

I considered a few options. And then I thought of the one story that gets every mother's tongue wagging and that is pregnancy and/or labor. You could include how you knew you were pregnant. Now, I've also taken into consideration that you might not be a mother yet, so I'd like to suggest that you share with us what it was like to hear your birth/adoption story as a child.

Whatever comes to mind when you read: In 9 months time....

Enjoy!

Here's my story. It starts NOW:

I suspected I was pregnant with my first child but ignored symptoms. I figured I was newly married and incapable of getting pregnant that quick.

Turns out I come from very fertile soil.

My husband and I went to the doctor's and I asked Jeep to wait out in the waiting room while I went pee in a cup. They ushered me into the room once I left my sample and then a nurse or the doctor, can't remember, told me that I was pregnant. And I remember thinking, "Where is Jeep?" But we had just not been able to get to the room together. We were newly married and didn't realized how things worked. Always go with your spouse on big issues--nurses like to hurry you into tiny rooms and reveal life altering truth while handing you a gown and recommending you get naked.

I knew I was pregnant with my second child when I opened the fridge door and I looked at the Sricha sauce and the mayo and thought, "I should mix those together."

I shut the fridge door and said, "Baby, I think we're pregnant."

The third time, I thought I was pregnant.

I was going into the doctor's office for a follow up for one of my kids and I thought I'd get a pregnancy test done. It came back negative and I went home crushed.

I was depressed for a week and sat on the couch lethargic and morose.

Jeep was home from working out of town and I was a general lump on the couch complaining that I needed more sleep, more food and more sanity. Heather came the next week and I said, "I don't know why I'm in such a funk. I just can't get my act together." She asked if I was pregnant and I said 'no. I was down a little about not being pregnant and was generally feeling lost as a mom and woman.

"You're pregnant," she declared.

I knew I wasn't.

Jeep came home with a pregnancy test. I obliged but I left the room and sat on the couch. I told him he and my daughter could let me know the results.

Well my sweet little girl came running in and said, "Guess what, mama? You are going to have a baby!"

And I did.

What's your story from "In 9 months time..."

Quick, Hide in the Barn!

Quick! Hide in the barn...all you useless countertop cluttering items.

Wait! Dishwasher, stay...I *NEED* you. The rest-- clear outta here...the tv crew will be here shortly.

My girls found a way to incorporate some magic

And my lady bug rock is really happy she's not being trampled by the clutter anymore. Look at her eyes, she's still recovering from her near death experiences.

And my stove is so jolly and the tea pots just ready to go

And look at this corner. So bright and friendly.

Now when the TV crew arrives to interview me I will look like a suave homeschooling Mom.

Just as long as they don't open my bedroom door where I stashed everything.

I really need to get a barn.

I did not kill Bob the Tomato or Larry the Cucumber

This Not Me post is using the adjectives and similes my wonderful readers provided in the comments section of my last post. Quite a challenge, ladies! Let's do this again some time shall we? (Similes and adjectives are in bold)

Today has not been slow and methodical. I have not felt as though I'm travelling through the day like a raindrop on a window. Slowly tracing my way down transparent panes. I should feel that way tomorrow, when we get blustery rain.

I did not learn from my sista, (as in simply, fabulous, dear wonderful friend) that I have made a mistake with my gardening. I don't make mistakes, much less blog about them.

I did not plant my seeds in tiny pots and then bring them outside everyday for sunshine. I wouldn't do something so colorfully ridiculous.

There are rules about gardening, you know.

It's called 'hardening off'. And you do that well after your plants have sprouted. You would never do that during their initial stage of life...because that would kill them faster than a new-super-sized microwave on high heat. I don't know how to use a microwave therefore I am metaphorically uncapable of killing new plant life.

Because in gardening, I didn't just dive in and make a go of things hoping it'll turn out. That would be like a junior high girl going down a wet, slippery waterslide on a boiling hot day while wearing a bikini. No, I don't make a go of things hoping everything will be nice and neat and all in place at the end. That's not me.

I did not decide to just hurry up and plant seeds because I didn't want to pay for the starts at a nursery. I wouldn't be so delightfully delusion as to hope that I could just throw some seeds in a pot and save money! Not me. I am willing to pay full price. I am a pyrrhic gardener and will drop as much money as my garden needs.

Some would say it's a mischievous person who would blame the lack of space in their laundry room for the reason of moving their plants out each day. And I would say that those people might want to look up the definition of mischievous and realize that they are using it at the wrong place and the wrong time.

Mischief? In the garden? Not capable of it.

The post in which I pretend I am The Lumber Jack's Wife

Are you reading the Lumberjack's Wife?

You need to. She is hilarious!

She once had a dermatologist insist that one of her children was adopted even though she repeatedly defended the fact that this was the child who came forth from her womb and she had the labour story to prove it.

She is a new fave of mine.

Shout out to Lumber Jack's Wife.

And since I love her blog so much I thought I would pretend to be her.

It starts now:

This is an important blog post so please pay attention.

Thank you.

Item#1

A quick shout out to The real Lumber Jack's wife, Christine and my girl, Camie for participating in Flashback Friday. Holla, people! Holla!

Item #2

Don't make eye contact with a pig.

Item #3

Camie is my personal friend. (I just mentioned her in Item #1, keep up, people!)

Not just a blog friend. I mean, I know her in real life. (Lucky me!) And her pictures don't do her justice. She's gorgeous. And smart. She reminded me of why I blog. Because.it's. fun.

So I wanted to let her know that after a good night's sleep I am much more myself and not nearly as narcissistic as I was yesterday. I realized there is no paparazzi following me around.

Item 3a:

I do not mean that her picture makes her look nasty. I mean that she is even prettier in person.

Thank you.

Interruption:

I decided that I want to copy The Lumberjack's Wife crazy adjective game. It's where you post adjectives in the comment section and I write a post using those very adjectives. But I'm going to kick it up a notch by providing this information:

I will write a Not Me Monday post using your adjectives

Oh and 1000 (meaningless) points to those who can put in simile's. Oh, you bet your bottom dollar I will include them in my Not Me Monday post.

There's your assignment. Now go!

Go!Go!Go!Go!

You have until Noon PT time today.

For those who stayed with me...

Thank you.

Item #5

There was no item number four and I just jumped to five and you never caught on. Keep awake, people!

Real Item#5

Fancy shout out to my new friend Jenn (click here) She's my new friend because Number 1. She said she was and Number 2. She reads Amy Beth. She commented a few days ago and I never said hi. Hi Jenn. Now, the whole world knows about you (oh, yes people, the whole world. I read my stats. I know you are all listening!) High kicks and loud screams for Jenn everyone! Yah!

Item #6

Courtesy shout out to all others who have commented and I have not commented back. I've lost track. Sorry 'bout that, but if you understood what my laundry room, me thinks you'd understand. So, consider this the big "Hello" and "Thank you" and now we are all square and caught up. I'm resetting my clock to zero.

Now, feel free to comment.

Go! Go! Go! Go!

Item#7

I'm sorry if that last shout out to the vast many seems impersonal.

Thank you.

Item #8

I'm done now.

PS. Please comment and leave a simile or adjective for me to write my Not Me Monday post. Only guidelines are to keep your words relevant...

a.k.a.

Keep it Christian, people!

Thank you

Friday Flashback: Party Cakes

Welcome to Flashback Friday.
Each Friday I write about something from my past. Sometimes it's meaningful, sometimes it's nonsense. But it all has purpose. Our past moments have all been a part of the story of who we are...so why not tell it!
Join me each Friday as I announce a topic and then we write about it and look back to see how far we've come.

For my daughter's first birthday I did not serve a cake. We served spring rolls bought from the store. Because all our friends had no kids and the only friend that I had who had a child was not able to make it.

For my daughter's second birthday party I figured it was time to smarten up and be a mom. A healthy one at that so I made banana chocolate chip whole grain muffins.

I ended up throwing them all out as it turns out the six kids at the party couldn't stomach them.

Wonder why?

For my daughter's third party, I got smart and bought an angel food cake, a tray of strawberries and whipped cream. I cute the cake in have and put whipped cream in between the layers and all over the cake. Turns out that whipping cream makes cake slippery and it falls over.

Thankfully it waited until after I started cutting it.

For my daughter's fourth party, I made dirt mud pie cake complete with gummy worms. We used Cool Whip, chocolate graham crackers and Oreos.

I ended up throwing out most of them as I served too big slices and it was too sweet.

For my daughter's fifth party, I held a huge bash and can't remember any of it.

For my daughter's sixth party, we partnered up with my sister-in-law and celebrated a double birthday for the cousins. She made the cake and we all loved it.

For my daughter's seventh birthday, we went BIG. Seven is a big deal to my girl ever since she was four. So, We searched online, I learned about crumbing a cake, and designs and all sorts of stuff. We took two days to make it-her little hands helping beside mine.

We did it! Ta-da!

But I ended up throwing a good deal of it out because the icing was way too sweet.

Where's the moral? there isn't one.

But I will say this: I am a mom who will bake my child's cake until she asks me to stop doing it.

Until then, I will continue to build memories with little hands beside me making cake.

Dirty Hands & Clay Pots

The seeds are planted, tucked safely under a layer of dirt. They have been watered and the clay pot that surrounds them eagerly anticipates the roots that are to hold the plant firm while it weathers the storms that comes it's way.

It's a new start.

But what's this?

The seed and the earth and all potential for growth has been poured out. The container for new growth is abandoned in search of familiar old ground.

The clay pot is empty. Purposeless.

But what's this?

The Gardener comes and gently pours dirt back into the container. He gingerly places the seed into the pot and safely tucks it under a blanket of fresh earth.

Why?

He's determined to grow fruit.

And He'll do it with patience and love. Time and time again.

Even when the clay pot feels lifeless, pointless and void of worth.

Why?

Because He's not afraid to get His hands dirty.

John 15:1

I (Jesus) am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.

And just exactly how do you get a lime in the coconut, hmmm?

My daughter asked if we could buy a coconut the other day. I said, "Yes." Not really thinking through the facts that:

1. I have never bought a coconut before

2. I have never had to open one before

So there it sat on my cutting board.
Staring me down like Clint Eastwood in a cowboy gunfight.

So I stared back with a steely eyed look that said, "You will not defeat me."

See?

I grab a knife and begin the tedious job of hacking away at what is called 'the bone' (and the insides are called meat...are we still talking about fruit here?)

I hack, I saw, I grunt, I whack, I chop.

People, I followed directions ( I know, but there's always a first time for everything)

But it turns out that this coconut has more Clint Eastwood in him than I originally first thought.

I decide to bring out a machete-like big knife that you see all the fancy chefs use on Food TV.

I raise it in the air and my girls cry, "Head for the hills!"

Probably a good idea.

After twenty minutes and a good deal of saying, "Good grief" I finally manage to dislodge a large piece of coconut.

We eagerly reach in our spoons and scrape out some of the meat.

With great delight we put the spoonful in our mouth...

and then promptly spit it back out.

It seems raw, fresh coconut is not the same as shredded unsweetened coconut. I cannot coax them to have anymore.

So I tell my plans to the coconut, "I'm going to scrape your insides out and put them in my blender with some raw honey and banana."

To which Clint the Coconut says:

Noooooooo!

How NOT to look like a band member of K*SS

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

So here is a little tutorial for all you ladies...

Step One: Do not apply this right before you go to church

Step Two: Do not sing this song and cry as you worship your Saviour

Do not worry, you do not end up looking like this:

Step Three: Afterwards, do not greet other members of the congregation without first looking in the mirror or asking your spouse if it your face looks ok.

Do not wonder why people are looking at you funny.

Do not laugh hysterically when you go to the bathroom and finally see yourself in the mirror.

Do not do that.

I would never do that, though.

Because I don't laugh hysterically!

Friday Flashback: Street Names

Welcome to Flashback Friday.
Each Friday I write about something from my past. Sometimes it's meaningful, sometimes it's nonsense. But it all has purpose. Our past moments, however significant, have all been a part of the story of who we are...so why not tell it!
Join me each Friday as I announce a topic and then we write about it and look back to see how far we've come.

This entry concludes my Dear Diary series.

May 16 1999

Today my sister Lori Ann and I were driving to the Convention Centre in EauClaire, WI.

Suddenly she said, "Oh! That's stupid! Look a street called 'Wisconsin' Street. We are in Wisconsin."

"No, that's not stupid. We live in Ontario and our town has a street called Ontario street."

"Yeah, your right. I guess it would only be stupid if it was called Eau Claire Street."

"Yeah."

And then we stopped at a red light and saw that the street we were stopped at was called "Eau Claire Street"

we nearly peed we were laughing so hard.

How about you? Link up and tell us what memory 'Street Names' invokes in your mind.

3 Reasons You Need To Stop Following Me

This has been a lot of fun this Ultimate Blog Party.

It has.

I have found some really fun blogs (which I will post about later) and have met some new friends (yay! Shout out to BK: great comments!)

Ummm....my readership has gone up to 40 followers.

It doubled.

In 5 days.

And I'm kinda freaking out.

Here's why:

I comment back to everyone who follows me and to those who comment my posts. (If I haven't got to you yet, don't worry, I will).

I take my blog seriously in that I want to build friendships with people. I don't do "acquaintances". I develop relationships with people.

It's why I follow Brambleberry Grace and Jesus. Women. Words. These women impact me and I want to get to know them.

Now, I know how this whole party thing works. It's like swapping business cards. We exchange cards and hope that we contact each other in the future. And many times it's just dropped into a rolodex and only glimpsed at occasionally because it happens to be hidden behind the card for the Chinese Take-Out place that is used most often.

I don't want to become that kind of card...er, blog.

And neither do you, right? (maybe not. I could be wrong, it happened to me once before)

Here's the thing. I don't follow for the sake of following.

I have only immediately followed a handful of people and that is usually because I spent a while on their blog reading other posts.

I usually wait 4 weeks before following a blog--just to see if it's something I want to invest my time into. (And if you want to know how seriously I take my time, then please read my post: A guide to staying off your blog)

Maybe I'm having a hard time believing that so many want to read what I have to say, but I mean...truly...do you???

Now you are free to do as you choose but before you follow me, you might want to consider the following:

3 Reasons You Need to Stop Following Me

1. You don't really plan on reading me. You only hit follow 'cause you were in the party mood.

It's ok. You can remove yourself. We all do crazy things at a party some time and I have done some silly things myself.

2. You are hoping I will be reciprocal and follow and boost your numbers. Won't happen. Sorry 'bout that.

3. You collect blog friends, like you collect Facebook friends. I detest Facebook (read here) and I don't want to be remotely associated with those habits!

Well, there you have it. With the complete potential that I've insulted you and your competency.

I realize this is probably counter blog culture, but I guess the truth is...I want to journey with people, not just be another name on a list. I have always desired to be set apart.

So, please don't follow me unless you really mean to.

And I mean REALLY mean to.

It's ok to unsubscribe yourself. I haven't written down a list of names of who is following me and if I see your name disappear I won't be showing up to write mean comments on your blog.

Scouts honour.

This post feels a little bit like a mother walking in to announce that it's time to clean up the tea party and put the dolls away...but every party needs a pooper!

Consider yourself introduced to this party's pooper.

Dear Diary: Peace and Love

Dear Diary series continues as I join in with Walk with Him Wednesday from www.aholyexperience.com. My spiritual discipline is listed at the bottom.

February 2001

Today was emotion vs. faith. Jeep and I went to get an ultrasound to see if we have a tubal pregnancy.

"You do not have a tubal pregnancy," they said, "but you will miscarry. There are vital pieces missing and the ova looks broken."

Jeep almost fainted and fell back into a chair. I started crying and said nothing.

The official radiologist was wearing a white lab coat and the technician didn't look me in the eyes.

They suggested we go back to the hospital and get some blood work done.

We do.

All day I'm fighting my thoughts.

I fight them here in this book.

I'm afraid Lord.

I don't think I can handle a miscarriage. But whatever happens Lord, I will worship You. I will say that You are good to me.

It's all in Your hands now.

(Then the Lord spoke to my heart and said that I was to call this child Shalom and He gave me this poem)

Shalom is in my heart

Shalom is in my Father's arm

Shalom, Shalom one day we'll meet

And I'll see your face of peace

There is nothing missing, nothing broken

For He has made you whole

There is nothing lacking

Nothing hurting

For He is your peace alone

Shalom, the joy you bring

With peace that makes no sense

You're in my Father's arms

Giving me complete rest

You are the very best

Kind of love.

Shalom, I am at peace

Shalom, I am at rest

You are the very best

Kind of love.

Later...

I just finished writing that poem and the phone rang.

It was the doctor.

The blood test shows that my hormone levels are going up and I may not miscarry after all.

Give me strength God.

Feb 18 2002

I started to bleed and miscarry today.

I am not sure how I feel at this point in time. I don't know what to think.

I never want to know this feeling again. It's like we've lost something we never had, but it was completely and fully ours. It was the complete picture of Jeep and I. They weren't mine, they weren't just his. Shalom was ours. And now, I think Shalom's gone.

I am NUMB.

Beyond belief, I am numb.

I love you, Shalom. Mommy loves you. You are so beautiful and precious to me. I can't wait to meet you.

What a day that will be!

February 22 2002

Praise God!

Praise God!

With all that's in me, Praise His Holy Name!

We had another ultrasound today to see why I haven't miscarried.

And on the screen...so small, so slight...Shalom's heartbeat.

I thought Shalom was gone...but the heartbeat was there.

Thank you Jesus!

My little Shalom is a fighter. And You are good.

I am still so afraid. Calm my fears, Lord. Create in my a new heart that I will trust You to be faithful to me no matter what happens.

September 29 2002

I've seen her!

Shalom is here. I've seen her face of peace.

And it is beautiful.

Thank You God! Thank You God! Thank You God!

It is only because of Your grace that I am holding my first baby, and beautiful daughter.

Lord, I give her to You.

I trust You to make me the mother that she needs me to be.

I trust You.

I will worship You and love You and say that You are good no matter what happens.

She is so beautiful Lord.

Thank You, thank You, thank You!

Afterthoughts:

Shalom means 'nothing missing, nothing broken, total peace and wholeness. The radiologist said that I would miscarry because "there were things missing and the ova looked broken". And God whispered to my heart that He would bring His Shalom to my child.

This was emotional for me to put onto my blog. For I know and have wept with many whose babies have been miscarried. I want to weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice. I pray that this journal entry has pointed you towards Christ and to remind you that He alone can bring peace and that He alone is the very best kind of love.

For those joining from Holy Experience, my spiritual discipline is that I have purposed in my heart to say that God is good no matter what has happened and to have a heart that worships Him no matter what happens.

Shalom to you!