Different Friends Different Expectations

A friend of mine stopped by unannounced. For the first time in a long time it didn’t bother me. Not that my friend would bother me but the state of my house didn’t bother me. This made me ponder why I sometimes get stressed over visitors and sometiand while at other mes I am at ease. I have come to the conclusion that it really isn’t the state of the house that makes me get nervous. The determining factor on how anxious I am is which friend I am having over.


For example, a couple of weeks ago I had a friend stay over. I was completely worried and somewhat frazzled about it. She even commented on how she felt things were out of sorts. I cleaned like crazy but knew it wouldn’t be clean enough for her. I was so convinced that anything I cooked would be wrong that I didn’t even try to prepare anything. But the problem wasn’t my friend but rather my opinion of her. You see, I think she is perfect and I that I will never live up to her expectations. Therefore, I should not even try.

On the other hand, I have another friend who stresses me out when we go to her house. Most of the time when my kids learn that we are headed to her house they beg and cry to not go. I spend the entire time there trying to make sure that my kids don’t touch the wrong thing or sit on the wrong chair. And heaven forbid, it they ever filled their diapers. I think we would have an entirely different issue then. It is so stressful that we rarely enjoy ourselves during the visit.

It just makes me wonder if anyone is that stressed coming over to my house. Do I make them feel like they are walking on egg shells or at the very least trying to not crack any the wrong way? Or, on the hand, I am I causing someone to stress over my attendance in their dwelling? Do I make request that make them cringe at the thought of me showing up?

I want my house to warm and welcoming. I want people to want to come here. I want their kids to want to come here. I want everyone to feel comfortable and relaxed. I don’t care where you sit--on the couch, on the floor or even on the kitchen counters. I don’t care what we eat. I even promise to pick out the mushrooms with very little complaining. And I don’t even care if your baby has diarrhea and has to be changed every 15 minutes. I will even help. Because that is how we live life together. Not stressed. Not worried. Not walking on egg shells or around pink elephants. Just loving one another.

Matt's shirt

Just recently I was reminded of one of the times Matt and I went on a date. Back when we went on dates, of course. Back before children. Back before we were even married now that I think about it. It was one of those long all-day dates. We were headed to Fort Wayne to spend the day at the zoo, have lunch at a bistro, stroll around downtown and go out for a nice relaxing dinner. I was so excited.


As we traveled down the highway to start this wonderful adventure, Mat pulled the car over to the side of the road. I had not noticed but apparently there was a older woman parked in the median. As Matt walked over to her, I sat there planning our day and what fun we would have sight seeing together and the adventure that was ahead of us. Matt seemed to be taking a little longer than I had anticipated but I wasn’t too worried. How much harm could an old lady do? Finally he got back into our car. He smelled like wet dog and said nothing. So I sat there quietly and tried to figure out how we could get rid of the odor before we got to the zoo.

The next thing I knew he was pulling into a stranger’s driveway. Or maybe he knew the person who lived here and he could ask to borrow some clothes. As he exited the car he reassured me he would be back in a couple of minutes. I found this somewhat strange but was thankful for the fresh air and the opportunity for his now soiled shirt to get aired out as well.

As it turned out, that “couple of minutes” became an hour. I sat there wondering what he was doing. Why he didn’t tell me this was part of the plan for the day? Whose house was this and what in the world was taking him so long? Finally, Matt came around the corner of the house. He was now covered in dirt not only on his shirt but also his pants and shoes. But the thing that had changed the most were his eyes. His once blue shiny eyes were now blood shot and tearful.

As we sat in the car looking at each other he explained to me that he just helped a complete stranger bury her dog that had got run over on the highway. He didn’t do it for glory or honor. He didn’t do it to get praises from a committee of on-lookers. He simply did what God told him to do.

Many of you know that my husband understands his Bible history and stores. And he does. But I know that he is also a man after God’s own heart. No, he’s not perfect. None of us are but that’s my husband with whom I am well pleased…even if he has on a dirty, stinky shirt.

Thanksgiving

Last Sunday, because of the upcoming holiday our pastor asked everyone to shared some the things they were thankful for. So as he opened the floor for comments I heard several of the same things that I was also thankful for… friends, family and forgiveness. God, Jesus, and salvation. Husbands, wives and kids. Love. Food. Jobs. Freedom.


Then that night I asked my two oldest to write down lists of the things they were thankful for. Their lists were not only similar to each others but also to the list that I had just heard that morning in church.

Caleb’s top ten were: God, Jesus, family, Mommy, Daddy, Rebekah, Elizabeth, little brother (because he refuses to spell his name.), food and pets. And even though the two of them were not together when making these lists, Rebekah’s top ten were: Mommy, Daddy, Caleb, Elizabeth, dog, Zech, God, church, flowers and dresses.

Apparently, they too made lists that morning in Sunday School. So of course they were going to have similar lists to each other and the rest of us because that is what the teacher prompted them to write. But isn’t there anything else to be thankful for?

And even though I am thankful for all the obvious things, I also appreciate of things that would never be said in church or classroom. Things like babysitters who sometimes work for free. Or someone who truly understands your situation and doesn’t ask questions. Or modern conveniences like toilet paper, toothpaste and television. Washing machines, dishwashers and vacuums. I am thankful for vacation days spent just with me (even if we only make it to the zoo with no kids!)

No, I didn’t say any of these while sitting in church last Sunday. I fought the temptation to actually be myself. And I am sure I won’t share any of them sitting around the table eating turkey with Matt’s family. No, I will just put on my “happy” face and say I am thankful for family all the while thinking “I am thankful for the days that poop actually makes it to the potty.”

Have a happy Thanksgiving everyone. Find something you are thankful for today and truly be thankful-- no matter what it is.  Now, I have to go get the ad section from the newspaper......

Sand

When we were in Florida we learned that sand is a natural exfoliate. It is great on when rubbed on your body. It takes care of dry skin and rough patches. So while we were at the beach we exfoliated often.


And as I sat on there covered in the sand I was reminded of a story about a man named Abe. By the time he was in his 80s he still didn’t have any children. Then one day God told him to go count the stars in the sky and the grains of sand on the beach. God told him that he would have as many children as he counted. (And I thought four was too many!) About a year later Abe and his wife had a son named Laughter because they laughed when they heard they were going to have a child in their retirement years.

Even though God made him count all the stars and grains of sand, I am sure He didn’t mean that Abe himself would have numerous children. Especially when he didn’t get started until he was almost 100! But rather God meant that his family lineage would span for many generations.

I have a jar of sand in our living room to remind me of the legacy I am leaving for my future generations. That even though Matt and I have only four children, our descendants will be plentiful. What will they remember about us? What kind of impact will have on them? What will our children tell their spouses about us in 20-30 years? What will they remember about their childhoods? What kind of grandparents will we be? What will be said at our funerals? What will people remember about us?

I am not sure what kind of legacy am leaving. I pray that it is a good one. I hope my kids remember all the fun times we had and all the lessons I have taught them.  No, I don’t have all the answers. All I know is I want to do the best I can with what I have.

Only time will tell what kind of legacy we left.  But for now I have to get all of this exfoliate out of my van floor.

Apples

Have you ever heard the expression: “One sour apple ruins the entire bunch.”? I am curious to know if it really does. Maybe I should take a couple apples and put one bad one in to see what happens. Will that one single apple really make the others rot? I might actually do this experiment if it wasn’t such a waste of food.

I do, however, realize that this phrase has nothing to do with fruit. Dr. Phil puts it another way. It takes 10 “Atta boys!” to make up for one put down. And even though I hear several great comments about my blog page from many of you, it only takes one sour apple.

A while ago a friend of mine made a comment about my blog entrees. She became my bad apple. She was voicing her opinion about the details and narration of my writings. She explained to me that she would appreciate it if I would just simply “write down what the kids did that day or week and leave it at that.” She was also very concerned that I “may offend some people by always mentioning God and Jesus.”

These comments made me ponder about my writings and wonder about how these pages were being viewed. I didn’t actually realize how much my friends’ comment hurt me until I realized that it was more than just keeping me from posting anything, it was even keeping me from reading The Word. That is when I realized that Satan had won. Her comment not only made me shy away from sharing my life with all of you but letting me share my life with my Creator.

That is when I knew I needed to get beyond her words and continue on with what brings me the greatest joy--reading my Bible and writing this blog. Of course a omniscience, omnipresent God is going to be seen, heard, and felt in everyday occasions. Therefore, He will be mentioned on this page.

My advice is that if you don’t like asparagus, don’t put it on your plate. If you don’t like my blog, don’t read it.

How do you like them apples?

Random Thoughts from our Trip

I know that it has been some time since my last entree.  I intentionally put the laptop under the pile of dirty clothes that we brought home from our trip to Florida last week so that I could prioritize what needed to get done in our house.  Then, on Thursday, when I was actually caught up with my chores from the week, I opened my email to discover that the rest of you may not have necessarily taken  a break from sending me messages.  I had to read and respond to over a 100 emails!  So, now that life is back to its normal level of craziness, I have made the time to return to my beloved blog page.

Here are some random thoughts about our recent trip:

Webster defines a vacation as “break from work: a period of time devoted to rest, travel, or recreation.” So, by definitions I did not take a vacation last week. I am pretty sure that if children go on any vacation with the family it really is not a vacation for the mother. It definitely was not a “break form work“. And of the three things the time was to be devoted to (rest, travel and recreation) I managed to travel. No, ladies and gentlemen, I did not take a vacation last week. I may not have been home but trust me it was not a vacation.

As we drove to Florida, I came to the conclusion that I could never be an over-the-road trucker. I would be even more over weight than I am now. I noticed that while I am driving I have to be eating. Usually something crunchy like peanuts, Combos, crackers, baby carrots, celery sticks, you name it. But always eating.

At any random overnight place, the same activities happened. Elizabeth was not at all interested in swimming. She would rather just take a “baa”. So while she soaks in the tub, Matt takes the older two to the pool. I lay out clothes for the next day, pick up the dirty clothes from that day and organize anything else that might need to get done. (but remember, I am on vacation!)  And, by now, Zech has tasted a section of the local yellow pages from numerous towns.

That leads me to my next conclusion… I am convinced that the only reason we take vacations is so that our children can swim. I am starting to wonder if we should just look into purchasing an indoor, heated pool. It might very well be cheaper than all the hotel rooms.

And speaking of hotel rooms… Did you know that most rooms that we stayed in cost an average of $100 a night. So after nine nights on vacation we spent more to house our family for one week than we do for an entire month’s mortgage!!! What I don’t understand is why hotel chains don’t offer a weekly rate. Some hotels actually do offer a weekly rate but you have to stay in the same hotel building to get that rate. Maybe next year we will just have to rent an RV. Surely that is cheaper than all the hotel rooms. But then we will have the problem of trying to find pools for the kids to swim in. Urg!

But no matter how frustrating taking a “vacation” is. No matter how much work is involved while there and once you return. There are always the funny stories you home with. I’ll end with one: As we drove down the monotonous road, we play the game in which you hunt for all the states’ license plates. When you spot one you yell out the state’s name. Illinois, Ohio, Florida, etc. Somewhere near Macon, I saw a read car with plates we had not recorded yet. I said, “Mississippi’. Then, as we passed that red car, Rebekah noticed that a man, not a woman, was driving it. She very matter of factly said, “No, that isn’t Mississippi because that is a boy driver. That one is Mr. Ippi.”

Now, I am off to try and catch up from last week and see what new adventure the children will bring me so I can share them with you on this blog.   And maybe I will send myself on a real vacation sometime soon..no kids, no laundry, no hotel fees, just a vacation.  We'll see.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

Day 3 of our adventure was less than exciting. However, we do have some news to report…



The good: We started our day just south of Atlanta, GA. We made it all the way to Port Richey, FL on the gulf coast of Florida. We are currently less than an hour from our destination. So, needless to say, we made some good time on Interstate 75. And even though we were on the road for quite an extended period of time, the kids still had good dispositions and good attitudes. The conversations my grandmother and I are having are good and I am still learning more and more about this wonderful woman.

The bad: As we traveled down the interstate, my bladder had finally won the battle and we needed to pull over at a rest stop. As I was beginning to park the car, I read the signs indicating where to park. One sign actually read: “Warning: Poisonous snakes may be in restrooms“!! I was utterly shocked. Shocked enough that I almost relieved myself right then and there as I read the sign. So, as you can imagine, we pressed on to the next rest stop 40 miles down the road.

The ugly: We made it to the next area to pull over and get everyone out of the cars. We made lunch and let the kids run around the grassy field to burn off some pent up energy. Then as we were loading back up I made one last restroom trip.

That is when I saw them. Everyone saw them. Come to think of it, everyone was staring at them. They were walking so slowly. Hand in hand. Shoulder to shoulder. She was leaning against him as he was supporting her weight. But she didn’t weigh all that much. Probably not even 100 lbs. She was obviously suffering from cancer. Actually, with no official medical diagnosis, I would guess that she was not suffering from cancer bur rather dying from cancer. She had obvious signs of chemotherapy treatments. She was bald and weak. More weak than I have ever seen anyone. I just sat down, watched them get back in their car with a pink ribbon on it and began to weep silently.

As I watched them drive off into the sunset, quite possibly one of her last sunsets, I thought about what an ugly thing something like cancer is. How ugly and difficult it would be to suffer through it. How ugly it would be to watch your loved one suffer with it. I have never had to deal with this particular disease first hand and I hope I never do. But if life ever comes to that I hope I have someone to walk hand in hand with me. Because that was something beautiful to see.