Happy 40th birthday to me...belatedly

This tattoo is what I gave myself for my 40th birthday. It only took four months to work up the courage. It's not very pretty right now. Apparently it takes awhile for the haze to clear up and I only got it done Friday. It's not anywhere "private" -- it's on my back near my left shoulder so I can either show it or cover it.

The "B" is for my brother Ben, who lived out his 43 years not caring too much what other people thought of him.

Did it hurt? Hmmm...hard to describe. It's like a cat constantly scratching you while you're being massaged. Odd. Pretty sore for a couple of days. I had my nose pierced at the same time, which pinched a little at the time but has not been sore since. I like it even better than the tattoo.

Yes, I know -- you're fainting from the shock. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth until it passes.

Christmas pragmatic

If you're still on the lookout for an unusual gift with a philanthropic twist, wander on over to TOMS Shoes. For every pair of shoes purchased, a second pair is donated to a child in need.

Christmas new

For many years, Geddy's parents and brother joined us for Christmas. That changed in 2006, when Mama Lois was too sick from late-stage cancer to make the trip. We kept our date last year, though Mama Lois celebrated Christmas in heaven without us.

This year, Pop will be traveling and we will be on our own. We've never attended a candelight Christmas Eve service or midnight Mass at a Catholic church, and those are two things I've always wanted to experience. Maybe that will be on our list this year. Maybe we'll stay at home and cook a big dinner together with everyone's favorites. Maybe we'll have pizza and watch "It's a Wonderful Life" and "White Christmas" and "Elf."

Change isn't easy but inherent in new circumstances is tremendous potential for new growth and abundant blessing.

One of the conscious changes we've made is to volunteer in the children's department at church, where Curly Sue and Moe learn each Wednesday and Sunday. At the Lord's prodding, I left a fun, all-adult fellowship ministry to serve with the children, helping with fifth-grade girls. Geddy and Larry help with AV. For the first few weeks I was sure I was completely in the wrong place, overwhelmed by the...well, the fifth-graderiness of the girls.

Little by little, without my even noticing, I fell fiercely in love with my girls. Tonight, the other leader and I are sponsoring a slumber/Christmas party with them and I am absurdly excited to participate, as opposed to being horrified at the very thought back in September.

That's what I mean about change. I was sad to leave behind my sweet friends in the kitchen to immerse myself in children's ministry, especially when my main "job" is to educate my own three children, all day every day. God definitely had a lesson to teach me, suprising me with a capacity to love and serve that I had greatly underestimated in myself.

I will look at our first Christmas without company with wistful nostalgia but also with some anticipation of the abundant joy promised to us. After all, the few precious years we have with our children is something to be celebrated, and what better way to build great Christmas memories than to create traditions that bring out our unique family traits and interests?

It's definitely a season for growth. How incredible it is that we get to combine it with this Christmas season!

All four eyes on you

Well, it was bound to happen. Geddy and I both needed corrective lenses beginning in our young teen years, so we started taking the children for annual eye exams when Larry was 11. Oddly enough, it is Moe that first needs glasses. Odder still, he's not even nearsighted like his dad and me but needs them for schoolwork, reading and computer work. They're adorable and he's very happy because he thinks he looks like Dad in them.

Larry is on a tear with the drums right now. It is absolutely incredible to see this child I carried inside me do amazing things I never could dream of doing. I always thought I'd be sadder to watch him grow into a young man, but he is just so interesting as a person separate from me and I so much enjoy learning with and from him that I forget to miss him as a baby. He wants to chase tornadoes and play drums in a Christian band and engineer warning sirens and make movies -- to watch the world unfold in front of his eyes is a gift. (That, and no messy nappies.)

Miss Curly Sue had a week she'd rather forget. G took the children to the lake to play last weekend and was teaching her to shell sunflower seeds in her mouth like a baseball player, only one went down her throat sideways and -- we thought -- scratched enough to make her throat sore. All three children came home to me full of stories about the fantastic hill down which they rolled repeatedly, but no one noticed the spider Curly rolled over on one of her trips down. Clearly offended, said spider took a bite at Curly's arm and left a nasty abcess.

Curly griped about her throat until I took a peek and discovered that the sunflower seed shell never made it down and instead was lodged firmly in her right tonsil. New doctor, awkward explanation of odd injuries, prodding and gagging, 10-day antibiotic...you get the picture. She's definitely off sunflower seeds now.

Today's lovely fall day that we spent picnicking, playing soccer and baseball, exploring and rolling down hills, almost made up for our aborted plans two weeks ago. G took three days off, the first to accompany us on a field trip and the others to visit his dad and drive up to a little alpine village in north Georgia. Pop's lady friend cooked us a tasty lunch, and we got ready to follow them to the village. I realized I'd had a grumpy headache most of the day, so I thought I'd swallow a couple of ibuprofen pills to ward off anything nastier.

It was too late. We'd only been in the car 10 minutes when we had to pull over because a migraine had taken hold and nausea was setting in. We made it the other 20 minutes, parked by the river and prayed the Advil would hold.

It didn't.

I sent the lot out into the village while I tried to tame my head with fresh air and a nap in the van, but they had only been out of sight five minutes when I lost my lunch and Advil plus some right there on the riverbank. It figures. I'd been wanting to visit and show the children the town for six months, and it was a perfect autumn day, and I was barfing all over the bushes. We had planned to stay overnight and mosey our way home Halloween afternoon in time for the festivities, but instead I wound up in a walk-in clinic for a phenergan injection so I could get home to my own bed, where I stayed three days. I missed trick-or-treating with the children and didn't even get to see them dressed up.

That was only my second migraine, but I remember my mom having awful "sick headaches" and my grandmother has told me she had headaches so bad she prayed to die. Wonderful. Next thing you know, I'll be having my bladder tacked up as well.

....

Last Thursday was the anniversary of my brother Ben's death in a car wreck. My parents, brothers, sisters-in-law, nieces and nephews gathered at his grave Saturday afternoon to remember him with stories about his life, a song Bubby wrote, and some messages we wanted him to hear. It was beautiful and painful. Afterward, we had a bonfire at my parents' and missed him some more, even as we were all enjoying being together. After a whole year, I still can't get out of the habit of looking around for him at family gatherings or look for his number on Caller ID or e-mail him something interesting. The grief has turned into something duller but ever-present, like a pulled muscle that pains sharply with a sudden turn of my head. Still, we are the same old clan -- loud, loving, emotional -- that we have always been, just with a gaping hole in our midst.

Finally, I'm "getting" Georgia Virtual Academy!

I attended the principal's Elluminate session Monday and was stunned to be told it usually takes new families about three months to find their stride.

Three months.

Not five days, not two weeks, not a month, but three months. That makes sense! We haven't been in public school for seven years and never have participated in any umbrella program, so to go in blind and learn everything about a virtual public school program in just a few days would be impossible, especially with the teachers and administrators making adjustments and finding their ways as well.

After my meltdown a couple of weeks ago, I gritted my teeth and dug in to honor my one-year commitment to the program. Almost immediately, things began to turn around. We learned we would be able to attend the presidential inauguration because of the efforts of Larry's teacher; Larry began attending live classes online, beaming with pride at every "atta boy" he received from teachers who aren't me; we received our missing materials; the children absolutely loved the Study Island test prep program; we set up a more workable schedule; and we completely banished the option of withdrawing this year.

Although we haven't had official parent-teacher conferences, we are blessed with Mrs. Bertrang and Mrs. Grout, who do their best to answer my zillion questions quickly and accurately. In addition to the inauguration, we will get to participate in some other fun outings like the Center for Puppetry Arts, and a Yahoo GVA group for folks in our area just opened.

Anyway, I realize that I have spent previous posts outlining my frustrations with GVA, but believe me, if we didn't think this program has tremendous potential we'd be outta here. It just takes time and patience, and though I'm not blessed with an overabundance of either, my heels are still dug in and my teeth are still gritted, with the hopes of relaxing both as I get the hang of things.

Right reasons

Geddy is on his way home from the Texas coast, where he and the other members of his company's group gave away two tractor-trailer loads of supplies to storm victims. I was so much in support of this project that I hijacked my own e-mail list -- the last time I did it was to tell everyone my brother had been killed -- to drum up support and donations.

Imagine my dismay when, in speaking to one of the team members last week, he mentioned how they couldn't go down to the coast with half-empty trucks because they had to make a good show for a customer down there. "We're up for review with them," he said, "and we want to leave a good impression."

What the??? How 'bout all the folks who wouldn't get what they needed to LIVE?

The subject came up again when another member of the team mentioned how great it would be to buy some supplies to keep on hand at the company for disaster relief. That way, salespeople could parade potential customers past the stash and talk about the noble things the company is doing.

So I called BS.

It's not at all noble to use other folks' suffering as a springboard to promote your business. Help because it's the right thing, not because you might profit from it.

So the next time this company needs my help to help others, I'll know it's really all about promoting itself. I'll keep my money in my pocket and my e-mail contacts in my file.

Lesson learned.

Dog days

Our Moe is as sensitive as they make 'em. He's rough and tumble, just as he ought to be. He loves dogs. So when we chose novels from this year's second-grade reading list, Stone Fox -- a story about a boy who competes with his beloved dog Searchlight in a sled race -- seemed like a perfect choice.

He settled down Wednesday after lunch to read it. He kept popping in on my lessons with Larry and Curly Sue to tell me all the exciting things happening in the race. Then he walked in with his best I'm-a-big-boy-trying-not-to-cry expression and said in a trembling little voice, "You do NOT need to read the end of this book. Searchlight dies."

Then he burst into tears.

Then I burst into tears.

Then he had an asthma episode. (And he's not our asthmatic child!)

I read the end of the book and it was extremely sad. Too sad for a second-grade dog-lover, too heavy a suitcase for my little guy to carry. Another in-my-face reminder that I just can't take someone else's word for what's appropriate for my children to read.

No more dog books for awhile, unless it's Walter the Farting Dog -- that one has a sequel, so I know Walter must make it safely past the end.

- - -

In other news, we are going to the inauguration in January. Larry's teacher in Georgia Virtual Academy has put together a trip for students that will allow all five of us to go, and we are pretty excited. We know regardless of who wins the election, it will be historic and we hope to have a great experience.

- - -

In other other news, we took a field trip to the remains of a Georgia gold mine yesterday. It was a really neat tour!

- - -

In even other-er news, yesterday's checkup at the allergist did not go well for Moe. Larry came through with flying colors and remains off all asthma medications except one shot each month (praise God!), but Moe's came up a little short on his breathing function test. Dr. H. wouldn't have worried, he said, except that the abovementioned Stone Fox-related breathing difficulties concerned him.

Moe got some Xopenex and another test, after which he got three days' Orapred, instructions for nebulizer treatments and a follow-up appointment.

I have been dreading the day we start down that road, but now that it's here, I guess I'm a little relieved. At least he's already on an immunotherapy regimen.

- - -

If you feel so inclined, prayers for Geddy and the rest of the team of volunteers from his company would be appreciated. They are headed to Texas to help with hurricane relief efforts in one of the small coastal towns.

Pulled back from the edge

I was ready to withdraw from Georgia Virtual Academy. I already had researched alternatives, bookmarked pages, made up courses of study and yakked at my poor husband for hours about unfulfilled promises and poor communication and the fact that, nearly seven weeks into the school year, my daughter still didn't have her history materials -- and the k12 representative said it was because "GVA had canceled the order." (GVA hadn't.)

Flamin' mad, I made up my mind to quit.

But, see, our family had made a commitment in March. It was a commitment to enroll in GVA and meet all its requirements for one school year, to see where it takes us. That commitment has to mean something, even if it's inconvenience, aggravation, headache and stress.

So Geddy and I decided to stick around. I prayed for peace and I was given it, and I dug in my heels and gritted my teeth and opened a book for the rest of the ride home from the beach.

I started laughing when we pulled into the driveway and a package from k12 was waiting on the porch.

'Cause God honors commitment, y'all.

Angels and tigers and...sorry, I got nothing

We're at the beach. We are swimming, eating like pigs, amusing ourselves with various activities and doing schoolwork.

Yesterday was a four-hour living history lesson at Sherman Field, home of the Navy's Blue Angels. The Pensacola base also hosts a great museum, the National Naval Aviation Museum. We got to see the Blue Angels practice and tour the museum, plus take a bus ride through the planes permanently parked there.

Today, it was biology. We visited the Gulf Coast Zoo and saw the Marcan Tigers, breathtakingly beautiful animals trained from birth in captivity. There also were some darn cute babies, 11 weeks old, and we got to touch their precious little heads.

Tomorrow is Curly Sue's ninth birthday, so it's her choice. I imagine we'll be building monster sand castles and eating a burger at LuLu's. Nannie and Paw-Paw will join us bearing birthday cake tomorrow evening. She doesn't know it yet, but in addition to the two Barbie movies she chose, she'll be receiving a Ruthie American Girl doll. I can't wait to see her face!

Trashy vacation television and junky vacation food are loudly calling, so I must go.

More on my prickly friend and hero

For months now I've said I'm going to start posting "My Hero Monday." Not terrifically original, maybe, but I run into so many everyday folks who are accomplishing amazing things that I just want to start keeping track.

Long ago in journalism school, a professor told me that everyone has a story worth reading if it's written right. Some of 'em just jump out at you.

My prickly friend, M, told me it would be okay to tell more about her. It's not Monday but here goes.

M is my hero because she has done the right thing even though it has turned her life upside down and inside out. She took the long way around, including teenage motherhood and divorce/remarriage, to stability and then got the call that would change her life yet again.

It was the police, telling them M's brother-in-law and his girlfriend had gotten into a domestic dispute and that the couple's five children needed a place to stay for a week or so. M and family agreed to take them in.

But what they thought would be a week turned into a lifetime. M and her husband have permanent custody of the five siblings in addition to her three.

You know what else makes her my hero? I've never heard her complain. In fact, she talks about her tricksy entry into the world of youth pastoring as a way for God to prepare her for unexpected massive motherhood. She never liked anyone's children but her own until she had to step into a youth leadership role in a former church, just before she got custody of the "new" kids.

As with most children in sub-ideal homes, M's new kids had lots of problems. And then there were the nightmares of paperwork, background checks, finances, insurance, housing and scheduling, in addition to staying under the bio father's radar to protect the children. M and her husband have had the children for four years or so now, and when I met them a year or so ago, it never occurred to me that they were anything but a big ol' traditional, nuclear family.

And building a seamless love from a bunch of broken and damaged parts? That's what makes M my hero.

Baby Jake is here!

My friend Kelly called this morning with the blessed news of her third child's arrival. Baby Jake joins his big sisters, ages 4 and newly 9, and we were so happy to hear of his healthy and quick birth this morning!

"Sons are a heritage of the Lord, children a reward from him." -- Psalm 127:3

This is me, bragging

Moe had a week or two of rocky behavior, so imagine how proud we were when he told us he earned 25 extra points last night in church for sitting quietly while all the other third-grade boys were acting up!

He was also the only boy in his group who had learned his memory verse and completed his challenge from Sunday, and Curly Sue was one of only two in her group.

It was a good Mama night.

Come on down!

Geddy and I got to play The Price is Right -- sorta -- over the weekend.

In our house, we have two drivers and three cars. We replaced our aging minivan two years ago with a Volvo V-50 wagon (used, great price). Last fall, the 1966 VW Beetle show car Geddy and Larry spent nine months restoring joined our family, which also includes a 10-year-old Nissan Maxima.

The Volvo is a great car but as the children grow, they are starting to get a bit cramped in the back seat. Geddy and I had just hatched a plan to start looking for a good deal on a minivan or SUV when my parents announced they were going to buy a new van, so we talked them into selling us their 2003 Kia Sedona when they bought their new Nissan Quest.

Which made four cars for two drivers, which was at least one too many.

The Maxima has been a great car, but it needed some work. In addition to a deep cleaning/detailing, the brakes need to be replaced and it needs a tuneup. Half of our selling price would have been eaten up in repairs. What to do?

Geddy said, "Maybe we should give it away" about the same time I said, "I think we should give it away."

It wasn't at all difficult to choose a family because one already had been laid on my heart. I meet a friend from church for dinner once a month or so. She's a lot of fun, a little prickly like me, and I can be completely real with her. She started her family very young and thought she was done with three children, but the Lord had other plans and sent her five siblings to adopt.

Her eldest recently got his license, and months ago she mentioned how they would like to get a small car for the older children to drive because they only have a large van and her husband's work truck. After my conversation with G, I approached her at church, hoping she wouldn't be offended.

She wasn't.

When my dad brought over the Kia Saturday, we arranged to drop it off Sunday after church. When Geddy handed the eldest son the car keys and the three teenagers realized what was happening, they were very excited. I was glad we got to see their reaction.

We may never be in a position to give away a car again, but I will admit I would love to have a dozen more superfluous cars. I understand why Bob Barker stayed on The Price is Right for so long -- giving stuff away is sort of addictive.

If Mrs. Geter could only see me now

I've always been bad at math and I never loved school. I believe I actually said, the day that I graduated from college, that if I ever had to go back to school I'd probably jump off the nearest bridge.

Oh, the irony, then, that my children are learning at home under my facilitation!

It's not that I don't enjoy learning. I do. Pre-algebra has never been on my list, though. So imagine my surprise when I embarked on the pre-algebra road with Larry this year and discovered I like it.

I really, really like it!

Mrs. Geter, who taught me geometry and algebra in high school, always believed I could do math. She thought if someone had slowed me down and really taught it to me, that I wouldn't have had any trouble. Unfortunately, by the high school level it's too late for that. She did, however, join me in my happy dance when I passed the *one* math course required for my college degree.

If sports statistics had been a high school course, I'd never have passed it. And yet I managed to keep pristine records for our state-runner-up high school baseball team. College math? Forget about it! And yet, I was right there at the press box/table, compiling, manipulating and arranging statistics for the baseball, football and basketball teams. Later, math was a huge part of my sportswriting career as well.

So why did I always think I was bad at it? Hmmm...

From early on, math didn't come easy to me, so I didn't want to do it. I was a precocious reader and writer so everyone thought I was "smart." For Pete's sake, I finished my Studybooks a year and a half early! And "smart" kids, in our tiny school, especially those with great parents who are ultra-involved in the PTA and Booster Club, got a great deal of grace.

Translated: I got away with being lazy.

I started really struggling when I was in third grade. Mrs. Jackson's class. You did NOT fool around in Mrs. Jackson's class, and I was afraid to tell her I didn't understand. She'd fix The Look on me and say, "Becky R., I know as smart as you are, you can do this work without any help from me!"

So I muddled through. I made my first C in ninth grade, Algebra I. I was horrified. Still, I was afraid to admit I didn't know what I was doing so I didn't ask for help. In 10th grade, I got Mrs. Geter for geometry.

For the first time, I understood and did well. Not A's well, but solid B's well. My lifelong feud with math (as Larry would say) was over. And then I hit Algebra II. Back to third grade and all the help I didn't ask for, all those years ago.

So imagine my shock when I determined to learn what I didn't learn back then alongside my child, and it became interesting. And fun. And...I understand it!

For all my ridicule-deflecting joking about my lack of math ability, I realize how extremely fortunate I am to be able to go back and pick up the knowledge I thought was lost to me forever. Second chances are rare, so I guess I won't be jumping off the nearest bridge after all.

Thanks for believing in me 20-odd years ago, Mrs. Geter. I'm gonna learn this junk yet.

Bulk buying at BJs

I've always heard it's a good idea and I've even tried it once or twice with mediocre success, but lately I've been thinking how great it would be to do one big shop per month.

'Cause frankly, I'm exhausted!

Our schedule hasn't eased up much despite trying to combine errands and designate days. Our weeks normally involve some activity out of the house every day except Thursdays and sometimes Saturdays, which I guess is better than something every day. Most days I also wind up stopping in at the market for just a few things, by which phrase I usually am doomed to spend much more than I intend for less food than I actually need.

So we joined BJ's Tuesday. We don't have one in our town, but there's one 20 miles away in the town where Curly Sue takes dance. I figured if I was going to be there once a week for at least two hours anyway, I could do some shopping while she's in class. Milk's cheap and so is gas with a membership card.

We made a special trip there tonight, trying to beat the Labor Day crowds and lay in our first monthly supplies. We came in about $30 under our budget for the trip, and we still have a small weekly amount budgeted for fresh produce, eggs and anything else we need so I can stop back by on my weekly trip if I need to. I also intend to top off my gas tank while I'm there.

In addition to bulk amounts of staple items, we also picked up Rice Krispies Treats, cheese puff balls, animal crackers, peanut butter crackers, frozen pizzas and chewing gum. It's going to be tricky, seeing vats of treats sitting around and disciplining ourselves to ration them so they last an entire month. (I know my personal limits, so we left the 30-pack of candy bars on the shelf.)

Still, I'm confident this will be a successful experiment so I'm keeping myself accountable to myself by posting here. Hopefully in a month I'll be able to report how few trips I actually made to a regular market and how we stayed within a reasonable grocery budget as a result.

Do my children make me a better woman?

I think so! I love this quote:

"Perhaps a better woman after all,
With chubby children hanging on my neck
To keep me low and wise."
-- Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Lessons from Ferrero Rocher

Yesterday Moe used the restroom at the allergist, and when I automatically asked him if he'd washed his hands, he lied to me.

Three times.

I knew, because he was surreptitiously slipping his hands into his pockets while I was asking. He 'fessed up but knew he was in a world of trouble. Fortunately, we weren't at home, so I couldn't do my usual yell-before-I-think routine. (Which doesn't do any good, anyway.)

Lying is one of a very few remaining spankable offenses in our house, so he already was aware of what awaited him when he got home. Asking for guidance from the Holy Spirit -- knowing I was tired from a long drive and discouraged that the outing we'd eagerly anticipated was a bust because of the rain -- I stopped by the market, looking for something to make the "don't lie" lesson stick.

Moe went in with me and, mystified, carried out a box of a dozen shiny gold-wrapped Ferrero Rocher candies. At home, I sent the bigs downstairs and settled Moe and the candies on my bed. We got the ugliness out of the way and started talking, me with a running "Show me what to do!" prayer going the whole time.

"Aren't these lovely candies, and don't you want one? I know I do! Let's each eat just one."

As we enjoyed them -- him eyeing me rather suspiciously -- I asked him what would happen if we ate the whole box.

"We'd be very sick," Moe said.

Right, I told him. So if I said it's okay to eat one but not the whole box, isn't that to protect him from being sick? That's like lying -- it's not okay to lie because it can make your soul and mind sick.

I thought I saw a glimmer of understanding, but I wasn't sure.

So I went on (praying, praying), pointing at one of the remaining candies.

"See how shiny and perfect that wrapped candy looks?" I asked. "But what if I knew there was a worm inside it? Would I leave it alone so he could call his friends to get into the rest of the candies, or would I take out that one candy and throw it in the garbage to protect the other candies?"

Lying is like the worm in the candy, I told him. If we don't get rid of lying, it will infect the rest of your life. Eventually you might think it's okay to steal (pointing at another candy) or hurt people (another candy) or ... (other candies).

This time, I was sure. Tears streamed down his sweet little face as he promised me he would not lie again. I told him to choose another candy, and to talk to God alone and ask for help keeping his word while he enjoyed the candy. Then I left the room with a peaceful spirit and a quiet mind.

I wrote about this one because it's drastically different from most of the "lessons" my children learn. I am extremely hard on them -- Geddy will tell you, we both are -- and we have very high expectations. I yell, I am angry and frustrated often, but I am a work in progress and God clearly is not finished with me yet.

But, remembering I hadn't laid my child open like I am prone to do in situations like that one, I worried whether I had made my point well enough. Until goodnight blessings, when I heard a sweet little voice saying:

"Lord, thank you so much for a mom who loves me enough to teach me lessons about not lying."

And then I was sure. Tears were streaming down my own face as I promised I would not doubt the Holy Spirit's prompting again.

(I wanted to add that I have been jolted out of my parenting rut by a book called Children: The Challenge. I just finished a chapter on encouragement that spoke to me like nothing I've read before. Usually I shy away from parenting books but this one is worth recommending. A word of caution: it is not a Christian parenting book but written by a psychologist, and it was first published in 1964 so may seem a bit dated.)

Lordy, lordy

I hit my 40s yesterday!

Hey, I don't mind admitting it...I figure I've earned every year of it. It's sort of a relief, really. Some of us spend the last half of our 30s dreading turning 40, so when the big day rolls around, you feel like you've finally made it.

We did some schoolwork, worked on some glaring character issues and took a nap yesterday. Red Lobster was dinner and Coldstone Creamery dessert, and in between we spent some time at Barnes and Noble. We even had time to run through BJs, comparing prices to see if a membership would be worth the fee.

Tomorrow we are heading to my parents' house for a traditional spaghetti dinner and Sunday after church we will go to my cousin's house to welcome home her newly graduated Marine son.

See? Life goes on. Here's to the 40s!

I've made a lot of boneheaded decisions in my life...

...but enrolling the children in Georgia Virtual Academy is not one of them.

We started school Wednesday and it was brilliant. Not to say perfect, because communication still is an issue and we don't have history materials yet. In terms of how it works inside our home, though, it's a great fit.

My anti-math seventh-grader now says pre-algebra is his favorite subject. All three children are learning to work within a deadline and scheduling is helping us all. Even with a nasty cold working its way through the family, we nailed the school thing.

Hooray!

The gift of service

The episode of "Friends" where Phoebe is trying to do something nice without getting anything in return is hilarious, but there's definitely some truth in the idea that do-gooders enjoy do-gooding because it makes us feel good.

I offered to help a scooter-bound lady in the grocery store yesterday but she wasn't having any part of it. Not content with a no, thank you, she yelled that she didn't need my help and I felt humiliated in front of everyone in the produce section and worse, my three children.

I won't hesitate to offer next time I see what I think is a need, though I might cower a little. But I sure as shot will be thinking a whole lot more about the person to whom I'm offering assistance than about myself.

And that's not a bad thing.

Happy first day of school!

We officially started GVA today. As I anticipated, it took us a looooonnnnggg time to finish our lessons, but I was very encouraged by the quality of the work my children turned out. Larry had a rocky start with pre-algebra today, but eventually we both got the hang of it and he really seemed much more engaged with his math work than is typical.

Dish Network got re-installed today so the house -- already a mess -- got turned upside down, and the dogs dragged the trash all over the dining room. We finished school only about a half-hour before we had to leave for church. Still, it was a great feeling to file attendance and know the first day is behind us.

We get to try our hand at science tomorrow, and the children are anxious to get started with that subject. Hopefully, we'll hone our schedule and each day will get a bit easier until we have it down. I'm tired but pleased and am looking forward to what's next.

So shines a good deed in a weary world

Today, Curly Sue and I drove 1.5 hours to the nearest Volvo dealer. Our little red wagon has been a bit ill lately -- specifically, its brakes -- and we wanted to have them checked. A couple of weeks ago, Geddy took off a Friday and we had scheduled maintenance performed, during which the mechanics could find nothing amiss. Still, the brakes have been grinding and not feeling quite right, so back we went.

Two seatbelts had to be replaced under warranty, and the service manager told me he'd have the brakes checked again. Volvo is meticulous about safety and this dealership is excellent about customer service, so we settled in with a book and snacks for a long wait.

Anticipating a bill of about $500, I transferred some cash from savings to checking this morning, glad I had the foresight when the service manager told us the brakes were going to need replacing. After a not-as-long-as-we-thought wait, I was presented with a bill of $0.00.

"Wait," I said. "I know I don't owe anything for the warranty work, but I need to pay for the brakes."

The manager grinned at me, dismissed me with a wave, and said, "Nope. See you later."

I don't know how or why he did it. Maybe it was a warranty thing, or maybe it was that they hadn't fixed the problem last time even though we expressed concerns. Maybe he's a really great guy who works at a really phenomenal car dealership (does one exist?!). Could be a combination.

Days like today, though, the handbasket to hell slows down a little.

Well-schooled

Legally, our family is no longer homeschooling because the children are enrolled in Georgia Virtual Academy this year, which makes them public school students working at home. As I've said, we have committed to one year and will make future decisions based on this year's experience.

So far, I am very pleased with the materials provided by GVA, even if the communication leaves a bit to be desired. However, I am willing to squelch my misgivings because the more I see, the more I am convinced Geddy was correct in his observation that this program will be greatly beneficial to our family.

I am a great supporter of homeschooling but a bigger supporter of support; that is, encouraging all parents to make the best educational choices for their children according to their family's abilities and convictions.

Boy howdy, if I thought I took it on the chin from public school supporters in the six years we independently homeschooled, I didn't know what I was in for from the homeschooling community when I joined a virtual school!

I don't need anyone to point out my shortcomings. As Bridget Jones would say, I already feel like an idiot most of the time. But I'm doing just what I would encourage other folks to do, and that's the best I can for my children according to my family's abilities and convictions.

Go see Warren Barfield!

Geddy, Larry, Curly Sue and I just got back from another Warren Barfield concert, and it happened to be Curly Sue's first-ever concert. She has had a sinus infection and started feeling ill a few songs from the end, but until then she really seemed to enjoy it. She likes his music almost as much as Geddy and I do, and Larry's game for pretty much any live music as long as he can share it with his friends Austin and Patrick.

We sat on the front row, which was pretty great -- it felt like he was performing just for us. As always, he was phenomenal. We were able to talk to him a bit after the show. He was friendly and pleasant though he had to be extremely tired, and he called Curly Sue beautiful. (She is, but it's always good to hear an outsider's opinion when it agrees with my own.) I took a photo of him with Larry but Curly Sue wasn't feeling up to it. Too bad, 'cause he's one of her heroes.

Anyway, once again I will highly recommend your catching one of his shows when you get a chance. He is a lot of fun!

Introspection

I started Boundaries today and saw myself in Sherrie. Can't wait to find out how to fix myself.

At last/My schoolbooks have come along...

We had an appointment with the orthodontist in the next town this morning, and on the way home I said to Larry, "Wouldn't it be great if there was a package waiting on the porch?" And there was!

Addressed to Larry, the package contained a portion of his texts and materials for our first year in Georgia Virtual Academy. School begins in 13 days and I was *assured* the materials would be here no later than two weeks before the start date, which would make this the date by which all the materials should be here. Not so. One box is better than no boxes, but still...

Shouldn't matter that much? On the contrary. I do not possess the "wait and see" gene. In fact, God replaced that particular gene with what we like to call the Rowland Fidgets, handed down through generations of Rowlands. And though I married out of the name, I kept the gene. So I do not wait and see...I fidget.

(Also, I like for people to do what they say they are going to do. That's not a genetic thing but a preference.)

Unpacking the box was fun, less so for Larry than for me. I think because he had traumatic procedures performed on him at the orthodontist, but also he might have just been hungry. We both giggled at the sight of our third copy of "The Hobbit" but applauded K12's good taste. A couple of other things we've already used as well, but I was thrilled to see some Homer, Shakespeare and Stevenson in among the literature selections.

He starts pre-algebra this year and that looks interesting. He also has life science and I am praying there is no dissection, because that very word conjures up the smell of formaldehyde, death and decay from high school anatomy.

On a happier note, Geddy is bringing home our (newshinyblue) laptop this afternoon. I know nothing about wireless Internet, which I am going to need soon for a trip, or setting up two computers to run at the same time at home, which I am going to need immediately. This is why I need friends.

I hope we get boxes for Curly Sue and Moe tomorrow. I hope, and I fidget.

Civil War Friday

Geddy took off Friday so we could drive into the city to have my car serviced, and we decided to make a day of it by visiting Kennesaw Mountain and the Southern Museum of Civil War and Locomotive History.

We worried over that trip like a dog with a bone, trying to squeeze the most out of our day. We considered and rejected many options: Zoo Atlanta, Oakhurst Cemetery, the MLK Center/Sweet Auburn Historic District, World of Coca-Cola, Underground Atlanta, the High Museum of Art, even Six Flags. We finally narrowed our choices down to The Wren's Nest, home of author Joel Chandler Harris, and the two places we eventually visited.

We made a great choice, fueled by a coupon that got all of us into the museum for $18 and the fact that the mountain is a national park and, therefore, free. (Sorry, but it really is a factor, folks!) Kennesaw Mountain was neat, but I have a difficult time picturing long-ago battles raging on a peaceful green mountaintop.

The museum was impressive. My favorite exhibit was one on slavery before, during and after the Civil War, especially the difficulties freed slaves faced. I also really enjoyed the movie about Andrews' Raiders, who stole a train called The General and were chased down by its engineer, who ran a train called The Texas backwards to catch them. Disney made a movie about it with Fess Parker in the 50s called The Great Locomotive Chase. The General is on display at the museum, and The Texas is on display at the Cyclorama.

We did the museum's scavenger hunt and in the process discovered a jacket worn by George Armstrong Custer on his wedding day and some items belonging to bumbling Confederate General John Bell Hood.

Lunch at Steak and Shake, a wooden cap gun, a white bonnet and a Confederate cap, gas and admission to the museum was all it took to make this one a memorable day, and now the children (and I!) have a much broader view of the Civil War and slavery, and what the railroad meant in both.

Balance

Melissa's thread at The Well-Trained Mind forums set off a dialogue -- me with myself -- about the way I do things, as primary homekeeper. One of the most interesting responses on the thread was this one, by Stacia:

" I've been slowly decluttering for over a year now. I can't even count how much we've tossed or donated. Now that it's mostly under control, my mental energy (and peace from all the serenity, lol) can be put to use finding ways to be a better/more-educated consumer (consume less to begin with, reuse more, etc...). So, for me, it was a progression of steps. Clear out. Then, change our habits for the better (to maintain all the work done in the clearing out stages)."

Stacia was able to put into words what I hope to gain from constantly working on the clutter. Doubts creep in, though. Do I really want to part with the craft things I brought home after my mother-in-law's death? Or the music, movies, etc. my brother left behind when he died? Someday I might need these towels, even though they're a bit ratty. I might not be able to afford to replace the kitchen gadgets if I suddenly decide I need them down the road.

So I pray for strength to believe wholeheartedly in the Lord's provision, take a deep breath and bless someone else with my possessions. I keep a few precious things from my loved ones who are gone and I donate trim and material to the Linus Project and pass along the music and movies to another brother who wants them. The towels go to Goodwill, where they will be made into bundles of shop rags to sell. The kitchen gadgets go into a box for my shortly-to-be-college-bound niece and nephew.

I am left with space to breathe, a reasonable amount of time to devote to caring for a reasonable amount of "stuff," and the peace that Stacia mentioned.

Check out this great blog by Jennifer, another member of the TWTM forums: Halving it All.

A day in the life

(I'm really interested in reading about other people's days, so I'm posting a summer Monday here in the hopes of encouraging someone else to do the same.)

6:45 Wake, make bed. Wash lettuce and make G's lunch for work -- salad, baby carrots, homemade muffin from the freezer, banana, pretzels. Plug in iron.

7:00 Tidy living room. It's a disaster from the weekend's shopping and library trips, with bags of school supplies, books and movies from top to bottom. Oh yeah, and a load or two of laundry as well. G takes some things for Goodwill to the basement for me. Clean up dog mess outside. Set out chicken to thaw for dinner. Iron G's work outfit.

7:30 Curly Sue wakes in time to goof with Daddy and give him a g'bye lovey before he leaves for work. Turn on computer, answer e-mail and blog.

7:45 Shower and dress. Curly Sue walks the dogs and tidies her room, then gets herself a highly nutritious breakfast of Cookies-N-Cream Pop-Tarts. Moe is up and doesn't want breakfast, but does want to listen to his new "Indiana Jones: Kingdom of the Crystal Skull" soundtrack on the kitchen radio. Downstairs, I start a load of towels and wake Larry, who doesn't want breakfast either. I make myself an egg, toast and tea and shoo the dogs from the schoolroom, then blog, brush teeth and find shoes.

8:30 Gather trash and recyclables and take to dump. Moe has decided he wants Pop-Tarts and a glass of tea and Larry, after requesting a turn on his new video game, starts tidying his room in order to earn one. Curly Sue takes out Susie the New Dog, who does her business in the yard -- hooray!

8:50 Leave for dump and to fill car with gas. Station closest is out of gas and next one over has gas for 20 cents less per gallon anyway. Drop off one bag of trash, twice as many recyclables (yay!).

9:15 Arrive home and start to switch over laundry, then realize Geddy never finished drying his workout clothes Thursday -- ick. Wash them again, on hot, with baking soda. Moe asks for a turn on the computer but hasn't tidied his room, so he goes to earn it. Curly Sue plugs in her new pink guitar and rocks out for awhile, then moves to the keyboard. I clean the trash can and then announce I'm going to do my Bible study, hoping that will inspire everyone else to do their quiet time.

10:15 Everyone has done quiet time. My 7 and 2-year-old nephews arrive to spend the day. It's their sister's 5th birthday, so she and a little friend and the mamas are having a girls day out. It's love at first sight for Susie and the 2-year-old.

11:30 Curly Sue occupies the 2-year-old while I make sandwiches. The big boys have long since disappeared into the family room for video game time. They eat and help clean up, then disappear again. The dining room chairs are pushed against the wall so I can put a rug under the table, and the baby likes to play under there. I put down a pillow and blankets, and he, Curly Sue and Susie lie down to rest and read books and play. I eat my salad and think of 300 more things to put on my to-do list.

12:30 Larry wants to check his e-mail, so I finish my blog update and turn over the mouse. We really need a second computer! But first, I have to check Perez Hilton and catch up on my celebrity gossip.

1:40 Baby and Susie go to sleep under the table while I tidy up a bit and wash cherries and grapes to put in the fridge. Curly Sue is downstairs playing her guitar -- uplugged -- and the little boys are on to some kind of Harry Potter video game now. Larry is playing with the new camera and getting some super cute photos of Susie. I file my Staples Easy Rebates -- $7 on an electric pencil sharpener, $1.99 on mechanical pencils.

2:45 Marked some things off my list but haven't chopped vegetables. Baby is still asleep, so I have a snack and read some Erle Stanley Gardner instead.

4:30 SIL just called to say she's about 15 minutes out. Baby is awake and has hit his head twice, hard, on the underside of the table. He is ready to go home. Clean out and reorganize the school supply closet and distract baby by having him hand me things. Electric pencil sharpener is a piece of junk, and I decide to return it sometime this week and forfeit the Easy Rebate.

5:30 Geddy comes home from work with terrible stomach cramps, so I'm off to Walgreen's to find a cure. Stir fry is done and warming and rice is in the cooker, nephews are kissed and picked up. I probably smell like onions and peppers, but it's better than B.O., I suppose.

7:30 This...is...Jeopardy!

8:00 Dinner dishes and an inventory of the fridge.

8:30 Doggie bedtime does not go well. Susie is not happy about having flea medicine squirted between her shoulderblades, so she tries to roll over and I speak sharply to her and force her up. She nips at me and I pop her on the nose. She stops speaking to me briefly, but I bribe her with cheese.

8:45 I read "Lucy and the Green Door" and "Esmerelda the Rag Doll" to Curly Sue. Prayers, hugs and kisses (and nosy-rosys) and bedtime for children. Geddy, in sudden dire need of clean work clothing, starts a load, which means I'll be up late-ish and early-ish getting them dry and wrinkle-free. Meanwhile, the load of boys' clothes I started earlier today has to be dried and folded before I can even get Geddy's in the dryer. (*sigh*) More work in the kitchen, and suddenly the living room sofa and loveseat are once again covered with clothing that needs to be folded and/or put away. I add "orthodontist," "drop Curly Sue at Natalie's," "grab lunch," "pick up Curly Sue in town," "bookstore," and "allergist" to my to-do list for tomorrow, along with "remember to give Curly Sue money for lunch" and "see if Geddy still has gift certificates for movie theatre."

9:40 Moe comes upstairs in tears. Seems he was looking for something in the hallway when Larry somehow tripped over him and scraped off the ginormous scab on his elbow. I apply a bandage and a kiss and send him back to bed. I resist the urge to ask him how he was looking for something in the hall if he was in bed like he was SUPPOSED to be. I give myself a mental high-five.

9:52 Geddy decides he can wear something else tomorrow.

9:55 I finish blogging and drag myself to bed, praying I don't forget to set the alarm.

And that's my day! Post yours and link it in the comments, if you want.

Weekend update

(My apologies to SNL.)

I am the proud new owner of:

1. A dog of indeterminate age, called Susie, who appears to be a mix of wire-haired Jack Russell terrier and beagle. JoJo is tolerant thus far, and my aging and ailing Gram thinks I'm an answer to her prayer for a loving home for her doggie. Maybe I am. I kinda like this little girlie (but don't tell anyone).

2. Five new dresses and a new pair of strappy heels. All hail clearance season!

3. A very green digital camera. Seriously, about the color -- remember green apple flavored Now & Laters? Uh-huh.

4. Assorted school supplies, all irresistible at between a nickel and $1.29. I'm stocked up on erasers...bring on the algebra!

5. All of Stevie Wonder's No. 1 hits on CD.

Also, I got to help my sweet friend Kelly celebrate the impending arrival of Baby No. 3, a little boy with an as-yet-undetermined name who is supposed to join us in September. She has two girls, so I think we all overwhelmed her at the shower with little boy things.

Church rocked this morning but I haven't formed my thoughts on the sermon that kicked off an eight-week series this morning. Maybe I'll post more on that later, maybe not.

It was a fantastic weekend!

Sanctuary

Months ago, I offhandedly proposed to Geddy the idea of turning our breakfast nook into a sitting area for me. After all, I reasoned, he has his drum area and the children have their own bedrooms. We have a formal dining room with a large table, perfect for using at mealtime, and the children have desks in our schoolroom. Why shouldn't I have a quiet place of my own?

He thought it was a good idea but time and money made it a low priority for us. However, things came together over the weekend when we found a good home for our kitchen table and chairs and found some wicker furniture, a cushion and throws on clearance.

The loveseat, coffee table and baker's rack are from Big Lots, the rug is from Ross and the cool lamp/shelf, sheers and window scarf are from Wal-Mart. We bought three bar stools for the children to use at the counter, and one will double as a desk chair for me when I do planning on the desk part of the baker's rack.

My recipe and homemaking books are on the baker's rack and the shelf under the coffee table is for my Bibles, journal and study materials. The candle garden was a Christmas gift from Curly Sue.

My days are pretty hectic sometimes, and I hope to find rest and refreshment in my little sanctuary.

The lure of the puddle

Following a couple of booming thunderstorms and heavy downpours, The Hat Trick headed out on their bikes to play with Neighbor Boy. Within 15 minutes, Neighbor Boy came a-knockin'.

"Umm...Mrs. B? Ummm....ummm...Moe and Curly Sue wrecked on their bikes."

This is not uncommon, but usually it involves hurt feelings rather than hurt bodies. This time, though, it was definitely hurt bodies. By the time I got down the street, Neighbor Boy's mom was walking Moe's bike up the hill -- she lives closer to the wreck site than we -- and Moe was a horrifying sight with blood dripping down his legs and arm. Curly Sue was already in Neighbor Boy's driveway, seemingly okay except for a few scrapes.

Geddy carried Moe home and put him straight in the tub to try and dig out road trash from his wounds. Moe is tough, but he was insisting that he's never leaving the house again until he's old enough to drive, so we knew he was hurting.

Turns out Curly Sue's thumb got bent oddly underneath her as she went down, so off to the ER we went. It wasn't broken but it was badly bruised, so she went into a hard splint, wrap and sling. Moe's bleeding stopped so we didn't take him in, but he is bruised all over and scraped/cut on both knees and elbows, face, chin, arms, legs and torso. He is very sore today.

The last thing Geddy said to them as they went out to play was, "Hey, you already had your showers, so don't get too wet or muddy." And the first thing they did was head for a ginormous puddle at the bottom of a hill, at full speed. Moe apparently lost control when he hit the puddle, which was deeper than he thought, and slammed into Curly Sue.

We've always been insistent that the children wear their helmets when they ride and we were very glad they were wearing them yesterday!

The return of the king

My Larry is home -- hooray!

He had some...interesting? horrifying?...stories to tell about his youth group's camping trip to Fall Creek Falls. He ran out of money, but only because he spent some playing games in Cici's and because he blew some in the general store on important stuff like nose clips and rubber balls. Fortunately, he had enough to buy lunch on the way home, but unfortunately he didn't have any to buy an Icee at QT. (Geddy and I solved that by stopping in at Burger King for a frozen Coke.)

A non-poisonous -- we hope -- spider bit him and we'll have to keep an eye on that spot just in case. A spark from the campfire burned him. And a new friend spent part of the trip throwing rocks at his own privates, which was a new one on me. I spent a few minutes making sure Larry didn't participate in such an idiotic activity and was relieved to hear he didn't cave to that particular peer pressure.

He brought home one penny, a duffel full of stinky clothing, a disposable camera and a treasure trove of memories. Rock on!

Rewarded patience...or is it persistence?

I keep visiting a local used book sale -- hardbacks $1! paperbacks 50 cents! -- often, in hopes of discovering a treasure.

I was rewarded for my patience/persistence Saturday as I brushed the dust off not one but three gems. One is a collection of Depression-era recipes, another is an original Thornton W. Burgess -- "The Burgess Book of Nature Lore" -- and the third is a vintage homemaking book called "The I Hate to Housekeep Book: When and how to keep house without losing your mind" by Peg Bracken.

So far, the homemaking book is fun. I'm up to chapter three ("Stains, Spots, Blots, Scars and Dueling Wounds"), in which Bracken takes issue with "some housekeeping book or other" with its advice about avoiding embarrassment with your pastry brush.

I have been embarrassed by many things in my life, but never by my pastry-brush bristles. This is true of most women, I believe. Of all the things one has to blush over in this world, the color of one's pastry-brush bristles comes at the absolute tail end of the list. But this approach is characteristic of most home experts. They truly want to be helpful, but they go too far, and in doing so, they set up too many straw men to knock over.

Ain't that the truth! I look forward to reading more of her wisdom.

The children and I will enjoy reading the Burgess aloud, and as soon as I figure out the "slow" setting on my oven, I plan to bake a mean "Good Cake Without Frosting" as well. That's a pretty good store of advice and entertainment for the Low Low Price of $3.

I know it's early, but there was a sale!

I really love coloring with new crayons. (Yes, I know how old I am. Pipe down.) I love the smell of new paper and how neat my handwriting is on that first page of a notebook. I make the crisp e's with the point on the front, even, but that usually goes the way of the Dodo by page 4.

One of the things we're doing differently this year -- in addition to not starting school this week -- is taking the children on a special back-to-school "date." We intended to take each child separately, but it worked out that we could take both the littles tonight while Larry is on a junior high church camping trip, so off to their favorite Mexican restaurant we went.

Over cheese dip and sticky soda, I talked to them about the changes our participation in a virtual academy will make in our schedule and priorities. We encouraged them to talk about their goals (Curly Sue would like extra one-on-one help with math, Moe is interested in taking an art class and learning about cars). We made a new family rule against the words "I hate" preceding any school subject.

Then came the fun part: After assuring them we would provide basics like paper and pencils, we gave them each a $20 budget and helped them choose some things to help make Aug. 13, our first day of school, special. Both immediately went for book bags, Moe for a Transformers design and Curly Sue for one with a tiny plush frog hanging from the zipper.

Curly Sue chose pens with cool designs, some star-shaped Post-Its and a book cover with hearts. Moe chose a calculator, a small construction paper pad, a Jeff Gordon book cover and -- oh, so neat! -- a rubber band ball.

We have some other things on our fall revival list, like cowboy boots, jeans, a Mary-Kate and Ashley shirt and a Transformers comforter, but for tonight it was enough to stash away some new, crisp things.

And for your information, I totally resisted the urge to sniff and make pointy e's on the construction paper pad!

Run runaway

I am not the kind of person to be flattered by great declarations of past crushes and sighs or regrets over what might have been. (Really, what's the point of rehashing that kind of stuff once you're properly grown up, anyway?) And when I think of how I had to sit on the sidelines so often because I didn't measure up, the intended flattery only serves to tick me off.

The lesson here, boys and girls, is that it's not nice to reinvent the past for your own purposes. Folks get hurt. Stray comments, even ones meant as compliments, may open up old wounds and new cans of worms. So "beware of the half truth, for you may have gotten hold of the wrong half." Yeah, like the backside of a politician.

See chameleon, lying there in the sun
All things to everyone
Run, runaway
-- Slade, 1984

Sneaker saga

I really like to shop at Famous Footwear. It's the only place I can find decent sneakers for everyone, and typically the prices are at least reasonable if not incredible. We're fortunate that the children aren't particular about brands or styles, although I prefer New Balance because they seem to last longer and come in wide sizes, which fit my boys better.

Larry's foot decided to grow three sizes this week (ala the Grinch) so he informed me Thursday morning that he needed new sneakers. I told him we had plans to go in a couple of weeks and he explained that he meant he couldn't wear his sneakers at all, that his foot had completely outgrown his shoes. We already had plans to walk in the parade yesterday morning, so I arranged our schedule to squeeze in sneaker shopping.

I should probably explain that our boys basically get a new pair of shoes once or twice a year. Their old sneakers -- if they can still wear them -- become their play shoes and their new ones are for everything else. (They also each get a pair of knockoff Crocs.) A buy one, get one half price sale is ongoing at FF, so I had both boys fitted up with brand-new New Balance wides and even splurged on Gold Toe socks -- also on sale.

Satisfied that my day's shopping had gone well and we were caught up on our needs, with the added bonus that I had found a super-soft set of organic cotton sateen sheets for our bed for an incredibly low price at Ross, we headed out to camp to pick up our much-missed Miss Curly Sue.

Who discovered shortly after arriving home that she had left her sneakers at camp.

Sigh.

Let's gather 'round the campfire and sing our campfire song

...our C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E song/And if you don't think that we can sing it faster then you're wrong/But it'll help if you just sing along...

(Can anyone name that cartoon? Hint: He lives in a pineapple under the sea.)

You'll notice I haven't mentioned that Curly Sue is at church camp this week. That would be because Mama has been trying not to think about it too much. Oh, it was one thing to send my completely ready but still "my baby" 12-year-old -- and that was plenty hard! -- but my sweet and silly 8-year-old darling girl has been another story.

Plus, she left me here completely surrounded by boys. Now, I love boys, especially my boys, but I share so many girls-only moments with Curly Sue every day that I'm really missing that interaction. She is a constant source of encouragement to me and will be very proud that I've lost another pound in her absence.

It helps to know she's having a fantastic time with her friends from church, and she makes friends very easily so hopefully she's spending time with new ones as well. She'll swim and eat and play and exercise and worship and learn, but for the first time in her life I'll miss out on nearly a whole week of being there with her while she does.

"And the face in the water looks up
And she shakes her head, as if to say
That it's the last time you'll look like today"
(Genesis, "Ripples")

Man, I'm in a melancholy mood today. I must away to the elliptical to work off some of my not-so-lovely lady lumps.

The Professor speaks

Larry occasionally makes comments in such a literary way that it's pure comedy. Last week when The Hat Trick was at Youth Police Academy, I mentioned that I had seen some fruit outside the meeting room and wondered if any of my children had partaken. Larry said:
"Yes, and it would appear my lifelong feud with bananas has come to an end."

What exactly is worthless?

Something I read in my One Year Bible this morning has been weighing on me all day. The OT reading (NIV) was in 2 Kings 17, where in verse 15, Israel and Judah have rejected God's decrees and the covenant He made with their fathers. It goes on to say:

"They followed worthless idols and themselves became worthless."

They became worthless. Because they followed worthless idols, they became worthless.

I have felt worthless, and lately. I'm "only" a mom, I'm "only" at home, I'm "only" a wife, I "only" volunteer at church. I'm a corporate wife, so at events I often get The Look, and sometimes The Lip Service: "Oh, how wonderful! I wanted to be at home when my children were little, but I told Todd I simply could.not.handle being around nobody but the children every.single.day. And of course now I [have a really amazing, highly paid, fulfilling, uses-my-college-education job, and you don't]." (turns away) "Oh, Tinky! Did you catch that simply incredible conference in D.C. last week?" (and...scene!)

Conversation over, and I've shrunk two inches despite my carefully chosen heels.

And my homeschool friends: a medic training to be a firefighter; an accountant; former teachers who plan to return to the field; a scientist; a mathematician, a restaurant owner. They shuttle their children to several activities a week, write their own curricula, run five miles a day, eat a completely sugar-free and organic diet and grow their own non-genetically modified wheat for grinding and baking bread. They study Greek and Hebrew and Latin at night and their vacations consist of mission trips to build homes for the poor in Mexico.

Me? I'm a former sportswriter, a former editor, a former journalist, a former freelance writer, a former wage-earner. No, I don't plan to go back to work. No, I don't intend to write a novel. No, I don't want to teach someday. I make terrible biscuits and I yell at my children sometimes and I don't know how to iron a puffy sleeve on a little girl's dress. I mostly kill things instead of growing them, we eat Lucky Charms for dinner too often and I like to go to the beach twice a year, at least, and not because I want to build things for poor people.

But am I worthless? I don't think so. Not according to the Biblical definition from this morning. It may be God's will for others to have high-profile jobs and other important gifts, but my job is to be busy at home and love my husband and children. So no matter how I feel sometimes, I know that to strive to live within God's will for me is to avoid the lure of worthless idols that will make me worthless in God's eyes.

(And now I have to tend to one of my important jobs, a 12-year-old with an unexplained 102-degree fever. He doesn't think I'm worthless, either. And thanks to Rhonda for her post today, which set this one in motion.)

Weighing in on Wal-Mart

Time is a precious commodity around here, and to spend more of it with Geddy and The Hat Trick, I have to streamline. Money, a "needful and precious thing," doesn't go very far right now either. With The Hat Trick's food and environmental allergies under control, we can go back to buying basic ingredients for our meals, so we cheated on our regular spendy market and hit Wal-Mart over the weekend.

The very idea gave me the skeevies. I loathe crowds and huge stores, and Wal-Mart's bullyish corporate tactics bother me. But there's also an ingrained thrift gene that very much appreciates a purple dance leotard for $8 and Transformers pajamas for $6.50 and a glow-in-the-dark Yoda shirt for $7. The Crystal Light lemonade mix-ins I buy as a treat are 1/3 cheaper per box and we can afford a few more splurges like chocolate chips and Pringles for Fun Fridays when they're so reasonably priced. The new, environmentally friendly Purex laundry liquid is a steal, as are organic grapes and hormone and antibiotic-free chicken breasts. Surprisingly, the produce looked fresher than I've seen in pricier stores lately (and tastes great!).

After reading this article highlighting the difference between optimal and very good nutrition, I realized what an idol I've been making of our diet and shopping habits. I also tried to educate myself on what Wal-Mart is all about, and I came to the conclusion that I've bought into a lot of negative hype without doing my own research.

I just can't afford to be a snob any longer.

Meeting Cooter

Geddy and a co-worker drove to Atlanta last night to talk business with an old friend he'd never met before, Ben Jones -- Cooter from "The Dukes of Hazzard."

Mr. Jones has written a book called Redneck Boy in the Promised Land: The Confessions of "Crazy Cooter," and Geddy met him at a book signing. Way back when we had cable and/or DirecTV, our kiddos got hooked on reruns of the Dukes, and the boys frequently play a PS2 game featuring the the Dukes and their General Lee. Cooter is no stranger to them.

Imagine their delight (being genetically inclined rednecks) when their daddy brought home a copy of Mr. Jones' book with the following inscription: "To 'Larry,' 'Curly Sue' and 'Moe,' the Bo, Luke and Daisy of Carrollton. Ben Jones, aka 'Cooter.'"

Better still, Mr. Jones extracted a solid promise from G that he will let him meet the three of them when he comes down to work on his business with G's company.

He really is a good old boy!

I've been tagged!

My good friend Angela has sent the following instructions:

Answer the four questions, let the tagger know you've answered them, then tag four fellow bloggers. Let them know by leaving a comment on their blogs.

So, here goes.

10 years ago: I was hoping to become pregnant with child #2, working full-time evenings as design editor at a small daily newspaper and enjoying our new home. I was also laying the groundwork for being a full-time, homeschooling mama but I didn't know that yet.

5 things on my list today: Read Erle Stanley Gardner's "The Case of the Green-Eyed Sister." Laundry. Get my parents' mail and feed/water their animals. Buy eggs. Take littles for allergy shots.

Snacks I enjoy: Sharp cheese; Hickory Barbecue Wavy Lays dipped in Frank's Hot Sauce; Hershey bars. I can't have these any longer, so I'm learning to enjoy vanilla yogurt with raisins, popcorn and fruit instead.

Things I would do if I were a millionaire: Retire my husband. Completely stock the new library in my tiny hometown. Be one of those anonymous donors who meets immediate needs for folks who don't like to ask for help. Hire someone to clean my house.

Places I have lived: I've only ever lived in GA: East Point, Whitesburg, Athens, Carrollton, Luthersville and Newnan.

I now tag THREE people, 'cause I don't have that many blogging friends.
Misty, Our Homeschool Journey
Robin, MyPursuit Of...
Kelly, By Grace and Faith

P.S. to Angela and Rhonda: You caught me on a good day, LOL!

A good day for a do-over

Things went smoothly this morning. I got up on time, showered, got the children ready -- with G's help -- and dropped them off at Youth Police Academy. Got home, knocked out the rest of the church newsletter (which was actually due yesterday, and I loathe missing deadlines!) and sent it.

Only it didn't go. Even after my mom arrived for our big never-happens-anymore day out, it was still sitting there on the computer, not going. Two hours later, I had to deliver it by hand on a flash drive. Mama and I had about 15 minutes in one store before we needed to leave to meet Daddy for lunch.

And mercy, was lunch another story. We normally like Wendy's, but between today's slimy salads (yes, saladS -- more than one!) and cooled and congealed junior bacon cheeseburger, it'll be awhile before I have a taste for that place again.

Things took a better turn when we dropped by Fred's, but we scooted out of there quickly so we could get the van washed. Again, a good experience. We were finally almost to the store we really wanted to shop, with time to spare before we had to pick up the children from YPA, when I got a call on my cell.

"Hey, B, it's Glenn. Curly Sue is here at the waterpark and she's wanting to come home. She's sick."

I knew it. She seemed to be catching a little cold yesterday, and if she wanted to call from the waterpark to come home, she really is sick. And, as it turns out, feverish as well.

We picked up all three lambs, went by the police department to pick up their stuff, and came home...to about 30 gargantuan hornets buzzing around our front walkway and wall. The same wall on which I emptied two cans of hornet spray yesterday. (I don't use pesticides normally, but I considered six-inch stinging insects a definite health risk for my uber-allergic children.)

Not only do I need a do-over, I need a nap!

Odd weekend

It's good to have three children. All three voted for G's VW at the Saturday car show, so he won the Youth's Choice trophy. (It's good to have three children for lots of reasons, but most of them don't involve shiny trophies. I'm just sayin'.)

We got to meet Gladys, Grandaddy's lady friend, Saturday evening. She is perfectly nice and we liked her very much.

Our favorite pizza place still makes the best pizza ever, and Grandaddy and Gladys liked it too.

My Gram is home and doing great.

Geddy's VW won second place in its class at the Sunday car show. Another shiny trophy, and this once didn't have a thing to do with having three children.

George Carlin died. So sad.

I bought plants for the yard.

I sprayed the retaining wall to get rid of hornets, and now I can't plant the plants for at least 24 hours.

Two of my three children are at junior police academy today. The third was at a campout and didn't go to sleep until about 5 a.m., and he was too tired. He doesn't lose his place, though, so he'll go tomorrow.

And that's all I have to report. Have a nice day!

Want in one hand and spit in the other, and see which one gets full first

Susan Atkins, aka Sadie Mae Glutz, wants to spend the last half-year of her life outside prison walls.

The problem is that in 1969, Sadie Mae looked into the pleading eyes of an 8 1/2 months pregnant woman, mocked her and then cut her throat, killing her and the baby. She was a member of the Manson "family" and still is paying for her horrendous crime.

When California's death penalty was struck down in 1972, Sadie Mae got a get out of hell free card. She has been in prison since 1971 and currently is the longest-serving female inmate in California, according to CNN's story about her potential release.

But God had a purpose in her life. Sadie Mae found Jesus, and she has spent the rest of her life behind bars working with disadvantaged people. She married. She became, once again, Susan Atkins, and she left Sadie Mae behind. Now Susan is dying, and she wants to die breathing free air.

Which begs the question: How long is long enough?

I joke sometimes that stupid things I did in college shouldn't count against me in real life. Of course I never killed anyone, but there were times when I didn't take very good care of myself in one way or another. Suppose I had gotten into a situation over my head and I still was paying for it 40 years later?

Then again, what kind of worth can you place on someone's life?

Ben is dead because a woman made a mistake. The brief time she was on the wrong side of the road resulted in our being deprived of brother, son, uncle, nephew, grandson and friend. She is facing indictment for vehicular homicide. Imagining any of her responsibility for my brother's death as intentional is far beyond my comprehension, so I can't put myself in the place of Sharon Tate's family.

Geddy and I disagree on the subject of the Tate murders. He believes Charles Manson is "uf da debil" and should have been put to death and the women in the case set free years ago. Charles Manson may be manipulative and evil, but it's never been proved he personally killed anyone, so I've maintained they all should stay in jail.

How do you reconcile murderous Sadie Mae Glutz of 1969 with the dying Susan Atkins of 2008? Does her behind-bars relationship with Jesus Christ and her work with homeless and at-risk children demand some sort of compensation? Did the time she spent with victims of violent crime cancel out Sharon Tate's murder?

There's little question that a reformed, saved, married, dying amputee would, for the last six months of her life, be any threat to society. Even Sharon Tate's sister Debra is concerned about being thought "a heartless creature" for being opposed to an early release.

If the purpose of imprisonment is rehabilitation, it appears to have worked in this case. If the purpose is to deter, ditto. If the purpose is to punish...well, then I guess it's right that the woman responsible for Ben's death is facing criminal charges.

A kind word, kindly spoken

My Geddy called from Washington, D.C. to tell me goodnight. We talked a bit about his day at the sustainability conference, and he mentioned lunching with a colleague who is vegan. He struck up a conversation with the man, telling him that I do a lot of research on organics and nutrition. He said it impressed the man that we grind wheat to make our bread.

I told Geddy it makes me happy to hear that he tells other people about things I do at home, and he said, "Oh, I tell everybody that!"

Further proof we shouldn't underestimate the power of words.

The check

Today's the day I have to deposit it.

You know how financial advisers harp on life insurance? As in, Mr. Geddy, how would your wife and children be able to make it without your salary if something happened to you, so you need to take out a $1 million policy (so we can make a bundle off the commission, which is the part they don't actually say). But nobody sells a product to fill the gaping hole in your life when someone you love dies.

And now I have this incredibly large check, made out to me, to go toward my children's future education courtesy of Uncle Ben. Or more correctly, courtesy of Uncle Ben's death in a wreck seven months ago. I should be thankful, and I am trying.

But it's hard.

'Cause I'd way rather have my brother.

Geddy says, "If I had the choice between a million dollars and my mom and Ben back, you know which I'd choose. But, B, we don't have that choice."

I know that, in my head where common sense resides. But in my heart, where my brother lives, I still hurt.

And they don't sell a product for that either.

Great news

Gram had a bleeding ulcer, which they found through endoscopy and sealed. She should be going home from the hospital soon!

If you're praying for her, please continue to do so. Because she is elderly, she probably will take awhile to regain her strength. She's tough, so we expect her to be back to her "old" self (sorry, Gram!) in no time.

If you have prayers to spare...

My Gram is 87 and in unusually good health. She has lived alone since the death of my grandfather in 1983, and she is tough and spunky and fun and has always been the greatest of encouragers to me and Geddy.

Gram is in the hospital right now. She has been bleeding from her stomach into her intestines for an undetermined period of time. Her blood count has been low for some time, but they couldn't figure out why until her bowels started bleeding violently Thursday morning and they found the problem with her stomach.

Please, pray that this amazing woman either is healed immediately and completely or that, if God is ready to receive her into His kingdom, her passing is quick and peaceful. Her greatest fear is to become a burden on her family and though I would be devastated to lose her, I hope her fear goes unrealized.

I have loved my Gram. I have called her and visited her and lifted her up, and my children know her well. I have no regrets about our relationship.

But I am NOT giving up on her, not yet!!!

Surprise!

Well, this is gonna be a long postscript to yesterday's anniversary entry.

G and I went to dinner at O'Charley's and then went by the church to pick up a new book for Bible study.

Or so I thought.

We pulled up and I said, "I'll just wait in the car." No, I had to go in with him. *sigh*

I powdered my nose and put on some lipstick, and I was glad I did because when I walked into the auditorium with him, there was a crowd of friends and family waiting to watch a special slide show with us. Genesis' "Follow You Follow Me" accompanied photos from our rehearsal and wedding, and G asked me to marry him again.

Of course, I said yes. And right there, we renewed our vows in a beautiful ceremony.

I have to say I don't usually like surprises. I mean, I don't want to know what I'm getting for Christmas or anything, but surprises usually involve gullible me and some kind of embarrassing practical joke. If G says he's stopping by the church to pick up a book, I assume that's what he's doing.

But this was the loveliest kind of surprise. And further proof -- as if I needed it -- that God has given me a real man, a real husband, a real father for our children. And that in addition to showing us every day how important we are to him by meeting all of our practical needs, he is willing to spend weeks putting together something special just to honor me on our anniversary.

He is a wonderful man and I am proud to be his wife...again.

With a little help from my [friend]

Grocery day wasn't bad at all! I had a meeting at church yesterday evening and went by the market on the way home. I had two tools: A list and a book called To Buy or Not to Buy Organic by Cindy Burke. The book is excellent and I probably will buy it, just for the shopping guide that starts on page 157. I stayed in budget but only because I passed on the $8.99 organic cherries (you should never buy conventionally grown cherries, according to Burke, who has done an insane amount of research).

We pick up Larry from camp tomorrow. We haven't received any news of him despite my equipping him with stamped, pre-addressed postcards. Which means either he misplaced them or is having such a great time he forgot them. I hope it's the latter.

Today is Geddy's and my wedding anniversary. Some of the highlights of our wedding day included:
-- His brother's truck breaking down so he couldn't attend
-- His dad's broken foot
-- Forgetting the rings so that our friend Marianne had to break into his parents' house to retrieve them
-- My forgetting to give out the roses I'd chosen for G's mom, my mom and my Gram
-- The air conditioning going out at my parents' house, where we were changing to leave for our honeymoon in the 90-plus degree heat
-- Almost missing the late check-in at our hotel
-- Our romantic wedding night dinner at Chick-Fil-A

I'm glad to have funny stories about our sweet little wedding. I'm thankful for the church friends who made the food for the reception, for the work friends who had such a vested interest in our relationship and for everyone who supported us then and lift us up now. I am a blessed woman to have found such an incredible person to share my life and I am a better person because he married me.

So, happy 15th anniversary to us, and may the next leg of our journey be as amazing as this one!

Grocery day is looming

I have to go grocery shopping Friday and I don't wanna.

Grocery shopping used to be my favorite thing. I loved using coupons, looking for sales, triumphantly returning from six different stores with free and almost-free items.

And then food allergies took over our life.

And gas prices shot through the roof.

Now, it's all about trying to squeeze organic/local fruits and vegetables, meats, eggs and dairy into a previously tiny grocery budget. The budget had to grow and we're feeling it. Factor in a new commitment to healthier personal care products (see Skin Deep), and we're spending more than ever just to eat and stay clean.

I am so thankful for the blessing of a good salary but I still feel oddly guilty using more of it to buy less health-harming groceries. However, when I see that the combination of allergy immunotherapy and better food/toiletries results in noticeably healthier children, I am determined to continue down this path.

Before the past couple of weeks, I hadn't been seriously ill since 2003. I think it's time I started working on my health as well!

Koombya, Larry

We dropped Larry off for a week of church camp this evening. No one in our family ever has gone, but it seemed like a great chance for Larry to stretch his wings a bit.

When we finished registration and found Larry's cabin, there were his two best friends! They had decided to come at the last minute, so Larry was thrilled. They took off to the pool as soon as we got him settled, and he just sort of waved goodbye. He is going to have such a good time we're probably going to have to pry him off the premises come Friday.

I am feeling a good bit better but still am slightly bewildered at the amount of medication I have to take. It's hard to master the art of taking acid blockers 15-30 minutes before I eat and then remember to take the antibiotics -- three enormous pills -- during my meal. I have three more days of eye drops and 10 more days of H. pylori cocktail, and then I'm back on Prevacid every day -- at least until I have the upper GI done.

But the head and throat pain are gone and that's worth a lot. I'll just be glad to have some energy again.

The five-year ache

For the first time since 2003, I had to see a doctor because I was sick. My weekend virus turned into a stuffy head and chest, with trouble swallowing, so I saw Dr. U Tuesday.

Trouble swallowing is a sign of acid reflux, apparently, so he prescribed Prevacid, drew some blood to check for H. pylori and scheduled an upper GI for Friday morning.

The problem was, I also had a sinus infection which turned itself into debilitating and nauseating head and throat pain, unalleviated by Advil, by yesterday afternoon. I'm no crybaby, so when I called Geddy, in tears, for help he immediately called the nurse, who told me to come back in. I wound up getting a steroid shot for inflammation and another shot for pain and nausea, plus antibiotics. I slept from 6 p.m.-8 a.m. and the headache was much better this morning.

Lo and behold, when I went back for my recheck this morning, I had tested positive for H. pylori. I'm off Prevacid and the first antibiotic and on a potent two-week cocktail of two other antibiotics and Prilosec.

Oh yeah, and I have conjunctivitis in my left eye, too, so I'm taking eye drops three times a day.

I postponed my upper GI until I feel a little better, because I currently feel as though I've been run over by a truck. Which is fine, as long as I don't get sick again for another five years or so.

We interrupt this program to bring you the following announcement:

Moe has at last learned to ride a two-wheeler without training wheels!

Carry on.

Aw, MAN!

I had a fever all day yesterday and was dealing with vicious body aches and sinus issues from Friday night on, so I didn't feel well enough to attend church this morning.

And wouldn't you know it? Warren Barfield, my very favorite Christian artist, made a surprise appearance and performed this morning. G brought home an autographed copy of his new album for me, but I'm so sad that I missed him.

Testing my nerves

We received our Hewitt Homeschooling Resources PASS tests this week, and this morning Larry took the math section. In Georgia, homeschoolers are required to take a standardized test every three years beginning in third grade. PASS tracks progress from test to test, so Larry has taken it several times in the past few years and is pretty familiar with the process.

Curly Sue is a different story.

Theoretically, we don't have to test her because she's second-grade age by a few days. However, because GVA has agreed to enroll her as a fourth-grader, we decided to test her anyway to keep compliant with the law by treating 2007-08 as her third-grade year.

She is so incredibly nervous that it's breaking my heart. She took online placement tests for GVA, but never a bubble-in type. PASS is untimed but she's going blank on even the most simple math concepts right now.

I told her these tests are not pass or fail, that it's just a way for us to catch any learning gaps and fill them in this summer. Hopefully that will sink in. Larry was exactly the same way at her age and still does not test particularly well, but at least he has some experience.

They each still have language and reading sections to complete before I mail the answer sheets back Tuesday, and once their results are in I have to write progress reports for the two of them (also state law). I hope to finish Moe's progress report next week because I don't have to wait for test results for him.

It feels odd not to be planning and buying curriculum this spring. I feel like I need to be budgeting and shopping and writing lesson plans, or something! When our usual July start date rolls around I imagine it will be worse. Oh, well. Maybe I can occupy myself with school supply sales until our K12 materials arrive.

"It would talk; Lord, how it talked!"

I wish I had three wishes; I would wish not to talk so much three times.

I had a job interview this morning. It started out well. I stated my case, I showed my work, I explained my circumstances and how I would fit in with the company's needs, and I asked intelligent and relevant questions.

Somehow it turned into a retelling of all my business by the end. Ugh. And double ugh. How my brother's death relates to a freelance writing job I have no idea, and why it came up and out I do not know.

"[Her] talk was like a stream which runs
With rapid change from rock to roses;
It slipped from politics to puns;
It passed from Mahomet to Moses;
Beginning with the laws that keep
The planets in the radiant courses,
And ending with some precept deep
For dressing eels or shoeing horses."
-- Praed, "The Vicar"

This was perfect for me, too.

Meh. Maybe I'll write a cookbook.

Wonder ball

My 7-year-old nephew Aardvark has come to spend the day with us. A is so excited to be out of school for the summer, and when he arrived in his play clothes clutching a light saber in his hand, I just wanted to squeeze his precious, bright-eyed little self.

His mama has post-planning this week. She teaches kindergarten in the city school system, and her students are considered at-risk. Most of them had at least one parent incarcerated during the school year and several were shuffled back and forth between relatives so many times they weren't really sure where they lived. One who showed up at school with fresh belt buckle marks and old injury scars was "repossessed" by DFACS. Ja'Nya, 6, died in an apartment fire. It has not been an easy year, and yet when she was asked to take the EIP class again next year, my sister-in-law said yes without hesitation or reservation.

She is one of my heroes.

On Saturday night, I added a few more to my list.

Geddy and I were invited to the city housing authority's first annual Abstinence Ball, celebrating the commencement of the roughly 200 young people ages 12-18 who participated in the program this year. We were on a panel of four married couples who answered a prescreened question from one of the youths.

Decorations and food were paid for by a state grant. The venue was offered rent-free and a DJ and photographers helped make the event memorable. Donated special-occasion clothing adorned fresh-faced, smiling youngsters and their behavior toward us was beyond reproach.

But when I asked the housing authority's executive director -- another hero of mine -- what chance those lambs have, her sweet smile faltered.

"Truthfully?" she said. "Not much."

She leaned over and pointed out to my husband a beautiful teenage boy, wearing a yellow tie and a big wide grin. He is a Hurricane Katrina refugee, she told him.

Last week, his mother abandoned him.

I sat in a rented folding chair decorated with a white satin bow and watched these children dance and laugh, joyfully eating from a proper party buffet while careful of spills or drips in their secondhand finery. I was ashamed of my new dress and shoes, of my diamond earrings and polished fingernails.

Back home this morning, I listen to the giggling and enthusiastic, if overly ambitious, plan-making going on between my children and their cousin. I ponder the effects of a strong family, a permanent home, a decent education, a love of God and a sufficient honest income on a child's future. I think about the group of lambs who took the Abstinence Pledge Saturday night in a county gym.

I am going to pray that their chances change. That they change their chances. That they honor their pledges and protect a chance at a better future. God is a God of miracles; they can use a few. And I'm going to start asking today.

Right after I go squeeze the babies in my living room.