While the kids are gone

I've been a little absent in the blog world this week. I've read most of your posts but I haven't taken the time to write much. My kids are with their dad for TWO WEEKS so my routine has been off. (And I spent all my timer time working on my new blog look.)

I miss my guys.

The Mr. and I have had some much needed down time by ourselves (and Kid Three). It was nice to only have to share him with one other person in the house this week. I was like a date every evening. Here's a quick recap of the last week without the boys...

* We cleaned the house and the next day it was STILL clean.
* No one threatened to flatten anyone. (how boring)
* At dinner, everyone in attendance ate ALL the vegetables offered without complaining.
* Not one neighbor kid bossed me around and demanded I tell them when it's been 30 minutes.
* No one asked to go to the skate park.
* The kitchen floor didn't have the usual crumbs that stick to your feet when you go for water in the middle of the night.
* Laundry was done in half the time.
* I settled ZERO fights over who's turn it is to take out the trash.
* The last pop tart was MINE!
* We watched a movie and started it BEFORE 10pm.
* The Mr. and I went to an early breakfast on a weekday.

But still, I miss them. They come home next Tuesday. I have a feeling after 20 minutes of "back to normal" I may be in need of another break. Oh, I'm kidding. Sometimes the "decompression" period is rough.

Friday's post should be enlightening.

Girl'n it up

Well, well, well...those of you in the blog design world think you can keep your skilz a secret?

NO MORE. I taught myself how to fish.

After checking out books from the library and reading some stuff here and there, studying my own HTML code on this blog and then stumbling upon the motherload of all help sites BLOGGERBUSTER.COM, I think I have actually figured it out. Kind of.

I fiddle-dee-deed around with my template and probably went too far but it was an exercise in learning something new. I think the average rate I've seen for blog design & installation is about $65. And since I couldn't find that much in change in my car, thanks to my money shark Kid Two, I had to invest my time instead. Ugh. What an investment it was! If you assume I paid myself $65 to redo my blog, it comes out just shy of $1.35/hour for my time. I will not soon be quitting my day job.

Here's a sneak peek at the header...

So, come back tomorrow to see my blog design all girl'd up. I like the waves but they just look too masculine for me.

Let me know what you think on Thursday.

What's in a name?

Let's kick this party off with a little song... Billy Joel, or some variation therof..."Don't go changin'...to try and please me...never want to work that hard -- oo-oo-oo-oo-oo.....(more words I don't remember)...I love you just the way you are...."

May I offer you the summary before the post? Thank you.

The goverment does not love you just the way you are especially if the clerk at the hospital where you were born cannot type.

Uh-huh, you know where this is going if you read this post. I'll not go back in time since I can't afford another blood pressure surge. You can read it if you need the background.

I finally received the copy of my parents' marriage license I needed to ammend my birth certificate. So I go toodling down to the Health Department again, only this time I am equipped with a book, a snack and my own personal anti-bacterial gel. I'll show them.

I proudly circumvent the LONG line of people because I am carrying a file marked PENDING in big red letters. The envious crowd watched as I glided past them as if I knew what I was doing. They were in awe of my VIP status. Who does she think she is, jumping straight to the front of the line? I'll tell you who she is... she is Cmpstpnce's daughter.

Who? you ask.
My point exactly.

I handed the marriage license to the clerk. While she scanned it The Invisible Me was dancing the cabbage-patch and other childish taunting dances because I knew I was almost finished with this fiasco. When she looked up she failed to move her head and moved just her eyes. And that's never a good sign.

eeeeerrkkkkkkkkkttttttt - (That was the needle on the record coming to a screeching halt. Dance Party over.)

Apparently this document was not enough to establish my mom's name had been spelled incorrectly on my birth certificate because on the marriage license, she signed it with the abbreviated name. You know, Kim for Kimberly...Connie for Constance...PLEASE!

The clerk, appropriately sensing danger, retrieved my sister's BC, hoping this would provide some consistency and she could then take her finger off of the panic button behind her desk - No...another form of my mom's name. This time with the middle initial.

To make a long story stupid, it boils down to this. I must produce a governement issued document with my mom's real, legal, "cause-her-daddy-said-so" name on it OR produce a government issued document with my mom's "goes by name" that absolutely MUST (or she and I both may go to jail) show her middle name. Oh, and THAT one?...it has to be issued AT LEAST 20 years ago. The lady tells me that if these things can't be found, the alternative is...

...(and I can barely type this even now) my mother can get a court order to have her name legally changed to the shorter "goes by" name.

ARE.
YOU.
KIDDING.
ME?

Some call Jack Bauer now. Or Batman. Or Robin...or at this point, I'll even take the KGB.

eeeeerrkkkkkkkkkttttttt - (That time it was the sound of the veins in my head feverishly popping out. Not pretty.)

So...all this baloney has sent my sweet grandma digging up legal bones and probably scouring the attic for something, anything that will help. My mom is taking a trip to the school system's records office to see if that will help. And me? Well, I'm doing all of you a favor and telling you now...

Use your legal name on all documents. I noticed on my boys' birth certificates I signed 2 of the Kim instead of Kimberly...according to the clerk, my kids will have the same problems if I don't fix it.

We better get to go somewhere after all of this...
You have SO been warned.

We're even? Did he say we're even?

Earlier this week I planned and prepared a very nice dinner for my family. This in itself is blog worthy since I do not always cook every night.

I made some yummy green beans my MIL told me about. Fresh green beans tossed with olive oil, seasoned and baked until they shrivel up and look frumpy. I also had some chicken breasts in the freezer I prepared. The problem was, these two items needed to be baked in the oven. The oven. In Oklahoma right now it it 200 degrees on the OUTSIDE of the oven. But I used the oven anyway.

When the Mr. came home he gave me "the business" about the heat. Maintaing a smile on his face as he set me straight while he pointed out how warm the house was as result of the oven. Okay, but dude, those green beans were going to be dee-lish.

Honestly I didn't think it was too hot in the house. On every other day I let the temperature rise to about 79 each day before I override the programmed thermostat, and even then I only kick it down to 75. On this day, I kicked it down earlier, knowing I was going to break an "implied" rule.

Saving energy. Doing my part. I'm a giver.

The next day around 3pm I noticed it was unusually hot in the house. 3.30 and I was sweating. 4:00 and my lungs were taking turns breathing. Unable to take it one more minute I went to adjust the thermostat.

OFF.

"Someone" turned the whole AC off. No wonder I'm dripping in "glow" and Kid Three is sweating like a little piglet. OFF.

I emailed the Mr. to ask if he had any idea who turned that off and hurled me into a near death experience via heat exhaustion... to which he responded, "Now we're even."

It's a good thing I think he is the cat's meow...

So, if you're planning to come to the Heinecke's house any time soon, please don't expect anything prepared in the oven. I've been grounded.

You are Special Today

Do you love family traditions? I do.

We have a You Are Special Today plate. We use on (you guessed it) special occasions like
- birthdays
- great report cards
- Mother's Day/Father's Day
- someone looses a first tooth
- someone receives a great award
- just because

The honoree gets to eat off of this special plate at dinner and we make a big fuss over them. Sometimes we write notes about why that person is special or maybe we go around the table and talk about them.

The plate comes with a Sharpie you can use to write on the back of the plate all the special occasions for which it was used. For 3 1/2 years I did that.

UNTIL...one time it got placed in the dishwasher rather than hand washed. No.more.Sharpie.on.the.back.

I was thiiiiiis close to crying.

Now I write the date and event in the lid of the box. No one ever tries to put THAT in the dishwasher! (If you're going to write on the plate, hand wash it. You've been warned.)

This is one of those things my kids look forward to when it's their birthday or they get a special recognition from school. I've often heard, "Oh hey, do I get to use the special plate today?!" We make it a big deal.

I hope when they get older we can all look back at the list and remember the special celebrations we shared as a family.

These make great gifts for people! Visit http://www.redplatestore.com/ to order one. You can also get them from many other places but this is one of the more affordable sites!

Anyone have one of these plates? When do you use it?

---------------------------------------------

(PS - thanks for all the kind notes yesterday. The boys made it to their destination fine and I'm off the ledge...ha/ha)

I'm someplace else today

Today I posted at It's A Plunderful Life. My boys left for a visit with their dad today. Sometimes that's a little hard on me at first. I know many of the single moms reading that site will identify with the kind of irrational fears I experienced.

Good day to you all.

I'll see YOU tomorrow!

Add FISH to the list of things I don't want licking my feet

I just didn't have time to write a post yesterday for today but this morning I saw something I knew you'd be interested in. It's possible you've already seen it.

FISH PEDICURE. Quite simply, it's where little fish nibble away at your toes and "clean them up." Two minutes of your time should explain it.

I'm putting this on my Christmas list. Not.

I'm going to share with with my single moms today. They may need a laugh...




Who wants one?
(Kid Two just walked in and saw this and said, "Oh, that's cool!" He would.)

Things that don't mix

Water and oil. Try as you might, they don't mix.

Dogs and cats. Although I'm not a "pet person" I've heard this is not the best combination.

Cell phones and water. Ugh. Not again!

Saturday we were at the lake celebrating Kid One's 11th birthday. The Mr. was driving the boat and I might add, he was really enjoying riding the waves on this day and nearly making me sick. Kid Two and I were in the front of the boat and I was taking all kinds of pictures with my very nice camera and occassionally I had the video camera out as well. All of a sudden, a monsoonish wave slammed into Kid Two and over his head onto me. We both screamed. Sopping wet we scurried to rescue the towels and the ever-important snacks. Mission successful. The Cheetos were delivered to higher ground and everything was again calm.

That's when I discovered 2" of water INSIDE my waterproof bag. I guess it is waterproof unless the bag is wide open and water pours from the sky. My cell phone was fished out and I knew instantly this wasn't going to be good.

Push and hold red button.
Wait for bleedibeebeepty tone.
No go.

Boo.hoo. I gave the Mr. a scolding look but quickly followed it up wtih a little grin to let him know I was still sweet on him even though he just r.u.i.n.e.d. my cell phone with his wreckless, all-in-the-name-of-fun driving. (He has some sweet boat driving skillz)

The last time I had a, shall we say, "mishap" with my phone, it was a couple of years ago and sI was in the ladies room at work. It was in my hoodie sweatshirt pocket. When I finished my "business" in the stall, I stood up and remember hearing a "thunk." I thought it was my belt whacking against the side of the toilet.

Nope.

Apparently, my phone became somewhat dislodged from my pocket and took an unwelcomed swim in the flusing water. I didn't know it for hours...not until later that afternoon I started thinking of the whereabouts of my phone.

As it turned out, we left for a family vacation the next day and I still didn't tell anyone what I suspected to be true about my phone. I was too embarrassed. When I called into work I was told they found my phone. Well, actually the plumber found it! Yeah, when they had to fish "something"out of the toilet when it stopped up and overflowed. I still haven't lived that down!

And now this.

Y'all, cell phones and water do not mix. You've been warned...

This is worth the money

It's not sliced bread or a Magic Bullet, but this stuff is goooooood.
...
At our house we have medium-colored cabinets. Over the last 4 years they have "acquired" a few nicks in them, particularly around the drawers when those forks and knives go unwillingly into their proper place.
...
Tired of looking at the flawed wood I picked up a tin of this... Restor*A*Finish at Home Depot (about $8-$9).
...
It.is.amazing. It's like lemon oil but not as oily and with a nice stain color that covers over the nicks and scratches and makes the wood look GREAT!
...
I believe it's available in 3 colors -- like Oak, Mahogany and Cherry. I used the medium shade, Mahogany. Worked like a charm.
...


So, if your woodwork needs a little TLC, give this a shot.

Maybe tomorrow I'll come up with something a little more entertaining or even thought provoking. Maybe. We'll see.

Gilligan's Island

Would you believe my kids have never seen a single episode of Gilligan's Island? There is something wrong with that. So very, very wrong.

Can I rent these somewhere? Please tell me. Their childhood is in jeopardy if they don't catch a few of these!

What was your favorite show growing up?

Maybe not such a good idea.

Last week I was filling a water bottle with ice. Kid Three was in his high chair just sitting all nicey-nicey like. I thought, "Oh, ice is fun because it's cold and it might feel good on his emerging SIX teeth." So I gave him a couple of pieces of ice.

He picked one up and put it to his lips. Then he started to whimper. I spun around to see the ice cube stuck to his lips and hands. I quickly reached for my camera - no I am kidding. It was all the way in the other room... I quickly reached for a dish cloth and ran it under some warm water. Squeezing the water over his little hand, I dislodged the ice cube.

All better.

I'm no doctor, but I'm guessing that isn't the best way to take care of your lips. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea.

Remember this? I had flashbacks to Schwartz and Flick in the movie, Christmas Story.

Do not give ice cubes to a baby.

You've been warned.

Victimized

(Also posted on It's a Plunderful Life -- especially for single moms!)

For the longest time (like years!) when my husband walked out on me, I saw myself as a victim. I tried not to play the "victim card" to other people and become emotionally handicapped, but if I'm truthful, I really felt victimized deep down. And there was no shortage of people to agree.

Often I wanted to scream, "What about me?! I'm the one who was wronged!! It's his fault! I did not cause this!" Anyone could see I was the victim here.

BUT I wasn't the only victim.
And I'm not referring to my two sons, [then] 6 weeks and 2 years.

As time passed and God began to heal my heart. I started to see the man who left me as a victim too. He didn't suffer from wounds I had directly inflicted on him, but he was most certainly a victim. He had been imprisoned by the enemy.

The truth is, the enemy had deceived him into believing some very bad lies and then he began behaving as if they were true. Pastor Craig says a lie believed as if it were true will affect you as if it's true. That's true. (I hope you followed that!) Now, couple all those bad-behavior-producing lies and fast forward ten years and you have two casualites in a marriage relationship.

As I identified the root of this evil done to me, I learned to pray for my [now] ex-husband differently. I'll admit I prayed hell, fire and brimstone on him for a few days... okay, several weeks... okay, months... ALRIGHT!, maybe a year or two... But when I finally saw the situation for what it really was, I was better equipped to forgive and go on with life through the healing power of Christ.

We had both been victimized by the enemy who seeks to steal, kill and destroy. The liar, the accuser, the manipulator had wrecked more than one heart. I wasn't the only victim, despite what I wanted to believe initially.

Ephesians 6:12, "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms."

NOT against people.
Not AGAINST people.
Not against PEOPLE.

Yes, people are the ones who certainly make bad choices based on their belief system. Our real struggle is against the powers of this dark [and broken, and lost] world.

My Jesus is the One who will defeat that darkness!

The next time you feel victimized by someone, I challenge you to take a moment to remember who the real villian is...

Sliced Bread or the Magic Bullet. It's a toss up. (Well, not really)

I realize the entire world appears to be enamored with sliced bread as if it rivals the “wheel” for brilliant inventions. And although the wheel is a pretty handy-dandy item, people still continue to use “sliced bread” as the standard for judging the cool factor of an object.

“That’s the best thing since sliced bread.”

Call me crazy, but I simply don’t think sliced bread is that amazing. (Unless it’s homemade white bread, warm and dripping with honey butter. That’s a 5 star meal.)

What I DO believe is a contender for the title is The Magic Bullet.

For months I watched this infomercial and dreamed of the day I could make my own personal smoothie in a cup in less than 1 minute. Or what about all the amazing sauces you can make? A hunk of fresh parmesan, a dash of garlic, some cream and fffffzzzzzzzzzt, fffffzzzzzzzzzt, fffffzzzzzzzzzt. You’ve got yourself some quick alfredo sauce. Just heat and drizzle over a plate of fettuccini and serve it to all the people congregating in your kitchen who have gathered for the sole purpose of cheering you on while you cook in a lightning fast manner- just like on the infomercial. Oh if we could be so lucky.

The Mr. came home one day with a little surprise for me. He knows how much I wanted one of those little heavenly bullets so he indulged me. Regarding inanimate objects, I love my Magic Bullet almost as much as I love my camper. (I’m fickle when it comes to which one I heart the most.)

This thing is awesome. I can make smoothies in a jiffy, chop nuts, make kickin' special-order milkshakes and even make baby food for pennies on the penny. That is the truth.

If you're in the market for a small blender, this is the one. I do not recommend buying an "off" brand. It is not the same. (Had one. It died. Not so magic you might say.)

I'm voting to scrap the familiar phrase "best thing since sliced bread" and start using "best thing since the Magic Bullet."

Who will go with me?! (That was a Jerry McGuire moment, y'all.)


I salute you, Magic Bullet.

3 Little Letters Caused Me Some Grief

Oh, who would have known three little letters would have caused me such grief. And it all started thirty-something years ago on my birthday. (Like I'd really tell you just how many...)

I need to get a passport. And for that I need a copy of my birth certificate. No real problem here. I'll just bop over to the local Department of Health downtown and get one.

After navigating through all the ONE WAY signs and mystic parking garage signs, I finally made my way through the basement to the 1st floor. There I discovered a very long line of people with the same idea. Only they had toddlers who did not appear to be enjoying themselves. I was kidless! I stood in line. I waited.

Fifteen minutes later the "happy attitude challenged" worker copied my ID and barked an order to go through the triple doors to pay. She gave me a number: 53. I followed directions. I stood in line. I waited. In the background I heard them call number 34. I wished I had brought a book.

The completion of this line sent me to another room full of chairs and more unhappy people with wild children. I sat in line. I waited.

35...37...43...49...51 (almost there an hour later!) FIFTY-THREE! The Invisible Me waved like a beauty queen at a parade at all the less fortunate people stuck in the sitting line, waiting for their turn while their stomachs violently growled.

I watched her retrieve my birth certificate and begin to compare it with my request form. As it turns out, my mother's first name was spelled incorrectly on my birth certificate . So what. Out of all the letters on that form, only 3 were out of place. The original typist must have had her fingers on the wrong keys because her right hand failed me on that day so long ago.

I fought off the fear I may not be who I thought I was. Maybe my identity was false from the beginning? No, I've acted like my real dad enough in this life to know there's no mistake.

Apparently (and I really wish you could see me say that word...it's full of sarcasm and distorted facial expressions for effect - nothing was really that apparent to me today), in order to obtain a passport, this is going to have to be straightened out.

But not today.
Because today would be too easy since I have a free babysitter for Kid Three and the big boys are with family. No, let's target next later this month when all the Pre-K parents are scrambling for birth certificates to enroll their kids in school.

I must now get a money order and request a copy of my parent's marriage license from another city, get a copy of my mother's birth certificate to prove her name is legit, and return to do the whole smarmy Health Department experience again...sometime next week. Oh, and pay an extra $15 for an "amended" birth certificate for me to prove my mom's parents CAN spell. (yes, that was pretty much all one sentence. So what. My story.)

I feel compelled to provide a moral to this story since I've complained for several grammatically incorrect paragraphs and probably overstayed my welcome with many of you. I just can't think of one.

Maybe you can help.
?

One Way

Here’s a practical teaching moment with your kids. (I saw this in Homelife magazine.)

The next time you’re driving around town (especially in a “downtown” area) ask your kids to count all the ONE WAY signs they see. After they’ve been on the lookout for a while and have the ONE WAY idea firmly in their head, ask a question. What is the ONE WAY to share eternity with God?

Jesus says “I am the [one] way, the [one] truth and the [one] life. No one comes to the Father except by Me.”

You can reinforce that truth by asking the kids, “What does the Bible say about ONE WAY?” each time you pass a ONE WAY sign.

I thought that was a good idea. I like using visual clues to remind me of God’s Word.

Talk about pancakes. Yeah, why not.

Do you have a favorite pancake recipe? Are you a fruit in your flap-jacks kind of person or do you like them plain?



Big or small?
Thick or thin?
Maple syrup or butter-flavored?



So many options when it comes to pancakes. I just want to be sure I'm not missing out on anything...

Just how many pancakes can you eat at one time?

Come on, all things pancakes...
Confess your story.

Using a Reader. I ain't no dummy. Not anymore, anyway.

Well, the fact I just now figured out how to make my blog available on a reader is probably like just now understanding what LOL stands for. In any event, I think you can now subscribe to my posts in a reader which, I've discovered, really does make it easier to keep up with blogs. AND...I've organized all of your blogs into my Google Reader so I can keep up more efficiently and make better use of my time so my timer doesn't yell as loud to me!

Click the buttons in the right-hand column to select your favorite reader. Seriously, if you knew the amount of time "invested" in trying to figure that out, you'd feel a great sense of obligation to oblige me. I copied a picture for this post. It says 7903 readers...which could be about 7900 more than what's true and real...

Natalie and I spent way too much time on this Saturday night while our guys went to see a dude movie. We found something for the kids to do while we "worked." Yes, I said "worked." And we almost (but not quite) figured out some other things we're too cheap to pay someone to tell us or do for us. (You see, these "jobs" don't pay so we have to figure things out ourselves.)

So... that's all for today. Put on your "to do" list today to "organize blogs in a reader." I think Cindy mentioned this a few weeks ago but at the time I was too embarrassed to admit I hadn't a clue what she was talking about.

I'm sure that's the first time that has ever happened.

Not really.

About the 4th of July

This is something I wrote about 4 years ago.

It's almost the 4th of July! - This is one of my favorite holidays because it feels so "American!" and it generally involves getting together with friends and family to celebrate. This morning I was thinking about the beginning of Independence Day and the events surrounding the scuttle.

What kind of passion drives a group of colonists to take on the army of England and demand their independence? Why not just surrender to the life they had always known instead of venture out in the name of freedom? And why travel a road that was certain to be a long, hard one? Certainly, it made sense to them.

Have you ever read the Declaration of Independence? (GO READ IT! http://www.holidays.net/independence/declar.htm) I mean it.

This morning for the first time EVER I read it. WOW. That's passion for a cause! Listen to a few excerpts from the document. I challenge you as you read these to compare the bondage they endured to our captivity to sin without Jesus. The emotional similarities were amazing to me -- even though the situations were different.

In the Declaration of Independence, the colonists list out their charges toward King George III. Nearly every paragraph begins with an accusation -- "He has..." - These people were clearly determined to break free from captivity!

"He [King George III] has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people. "

"He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to complete the works of death, desolation and tyranny,..."

"He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands. ..."

"He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harass our people, and eat out their substance..."

"A Prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people."

Remarkably, King George had some of the same characteristics of the oppressor our Savior is determined to destroy, didn't he? That stupid enemy of ours has destroyed lives, harassed people and heaped death and destruction on all kinds of relationships. He is certainly not fit to be the ruler of a FREE people.

And that's what we are. Free people. Free from the chains of our human sin.

Thankfully we are not fighting alone - and we don't fight with weapons as the world does -- our weapons have the power to DEMOLISH strongholds! They have the power to defeat the tyrannical liar.

Perhaps we should all pen our own Declaration of DEpendence -- a commitment to relying fully on the One who grants us our eternal freedom -- a firm position that we will no longer be enslaved to the lies of the enemy that seek to destroy us, and we just won't tolerate being ruled by the Prince of Darkness. Anyone want to scream CHARGE!?

Have a great holiday weekend and when you see those fireworks shoot up, remember to thank our King, who is the perfect author of FREEDOM!

The Shack - follow up

Did you read it? As I write this we are making our ascent into the Colorado mountains and I just finished the last page of the book. I’m not going to spoil it for any of you who haven’t read it by giving you a detailed overview. That wouldn’t be very nice, would it?

Last week I said I was reserving my opinion until I completed the book. Now that I’m finished, I remain somewhat indifferent. I don't really have a strong opinion either way on this one. It was a good book in the sense it had some ideas that made me think. Much of it was a warm fictional illustration of "wrestling with God's goodness." Still in other parts the Invisible Me read it with a raised eyebrow. As I mentioned in last week's post, there were some fiction elements that were hard to digest for me. I don't generally read Christian fiction so maybe that was the deal...

Not a bad book, but probably not my absolute favorite. Isn't is funny how different we all are?. Well, I think it is.

Personally, I’ve experienced tragedy and struggled with Truth - as we all have. My dad was an alcoholic, drug addict and an adulterer. I’ve been abandoned in a marriage relationship and left to raise two tiny boys alone. I can relate to the main character’s “need” to question God when he doesn’t seem fair - and dare I say, when He doesn’t seem good. This was an interesting depiction of how one man struggled through his unbelief in a sovereign God.

For those of you who read it, what is your opinion? What was your favorite part? Or your least favorite?

Did anyone have a hard time with the physical descriptions of the main characters? Talk about that. (If you read it, you know what I mean.)

When tragedy strikes, how do you most often feel toward God?

See, I didn't ruin anything for those of you who are still planning to read it.

WHAT kind of birthday do you want?! Oh no!

Well, you thought you'd see pictures from my trip to Colorado and hear all about the family fun, right? Sorry, not today. We just rolled in Tuesday night. It was a 14 hour door to door car trip (and included a couple of food stops) so I am not too interested in downloading all those pictures and trying to organize that. Maybe later this week. I know you're all on the edge of your seat with anticipation. I hear ya.

Here's a little excerpt from the car trip.

Me: Guys, we've got to figure out what to do about your birthdays. It's getting close.
Kid One: I want to go somewhere and do something...maybe Frontier City or a movie.
Me: Sounds fun. You can take a friend.
Kid Two: How many friends can I take? I just want to stay at home and have a party.
Me: Hm, don't you want to go do something?
Kid Two: Well, I really just want to have kids at my house. Stay home. Yeah, I want a Homo party. (Kid Two often makes up words from other words. He had no idea what he was implying.)

We tried not to laugh in the front seat.
And then he starts his Kid Two antics and begins singing about a Homo Birthday Party -- I was cringing but he had no idea why.

We're going to talk him into something more socially acceptable for a 9 year old, don't worry.