No, I didn't wake up at 4 a.m. to watch the royal wedding. But I would have if I didn't have to work all night tonight. So, as I was having a bowl of Cheerios with my distinguished guest, Sir Grant Edwin of Wichita, as we watched the blissful nuptials on our DVR.
I think I'm cut out to live the life of a princess or dutchess. In kindergarten, I refuse to wear anything but a dress. I know which fork to use for what course of a meal. I can speak proper English (unlike most Americans). And I intensely studied films such as the Sound of Music and The King and I...where royalty was involved. However, my Prince Ben isn't referred to as "His Royal Highness"...however, I'm sure he would probably prefer that title.
Watching the wedding, I LOVED everything about it. The dignity, the poise, the dress, the respectfulness, the honor, the class. Now, I'm not "hatin' on" our culture...but maybe I am just a little. Compare the wedding we all watched this morning to what the youth of America hold in such high regard. What comes to mind? Images of Lady Gaga in a meat dress making some sort of weird statement. Rihanna dancing on the Grammy's so inappropriately that I turned to another channel because I was so embarrassed. Girls walking around in pants so low you see 3 inches of their crack hanging out. Young women in wedding dresses so low cut that all anyone can focus on is their...ahem...overflowing bosom. Lyrics that are played on every pop radio station. Bruno Mars's "The Lazy Song" lyrics totally repulse me.
"Today I don't feel like doing anything. I just wanna lay in my bed. Don't feel like pickin' up my phone, so leave a message at the tone 'cause I swear I'm not doing anything, nothing at all, nothing at all. Tomorrow I'll wake up, do some P90X. Find a really nice girl, have some really nice sex. And she's gonna scream out 'this is great.' (Oh my God, this is great.)"
What a stark contrast to the image of William and Kate - a young man and woman who are responsible, can shake people's hands and look them in the eyes, don't give a disgustingly long, totally inappropriate make-out-mack-down-let's-go-get-a-room kiss, and don't act like total jerks "because they can."
So, not only did I love watching a fairytale wedding because a commoner named Catherine Middleton is now referred to as the Duchess of Cambridge...I loved it because it was full of class, grace, poise, honor, and dignity. Something I think a lot of our culture...and generation, for that matter...forgets is out there. You don't have do be actual royalty, have seven names, and wear a feathered hat to treat yourself with a little respect and dignity.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Needing some super-human strength
This morning, I commenced on day three of deep-cleaning the Hoover house. No...I am not disinfecting, dusting, and wiping down every square centimeter of the house. It's just taken me three days to finish. I'm spending most of my time corralling Grant. Earlier, I thought I'd be able to Swiffer the wood floors and fold a load of laundry before he went down for a nap. After about 30 minutes, I finally got a small load of lights folded, but no clean floors...because in those 30 minutes, Grant had:
A. Crawled into, and fallen out of, a laundry basket and hit his head
B. Pulled on our bedroom curtains
C. Got his finger stuck in the door jam (not a severe injury, just some crying)
D. Ate dog food
E. Ate grass and dust bunnies
F. Chewed on a phone charger (thank goodness it wasn't plugged in)
G. Opened the night stand and pulled out numerous books and
H. Played in Scout's water bowl
That, my friends, is why it has taken me three days to clean our house.
The tiredness that I am currently experiencing prompted me to open up my favorite Book to Isaiah 40 this morning. In this chapter, Israel is complaining. Basically, they're tired and they think God is too big to care about their needs and wants.
"Why do you say, O Jacob, and complain, O Israel, 'My way is hidden from the Lord; my cause is disregarded by my God?'
Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." - Isaiah 40:27-31
And when it says "renew their strength," the actual meaning is to "exchange their strength" for God's strength. That's a pretty good trade, if you ask me. He's got quite a bit more strength than I do. Plus, it's probably a little more powerful than mine, too. (Note the sarcasm.)
So...Jesus, I need to exchange my strength for yours today. Not just so I can finish cleaning the house. So I can keep on running the race you've set before me.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
A Little Naive? Probably. A little light-headed? Definitely.
Oh, how I should be sleeping. I work tonight and tomorrow night, Grant's asleep, the house is quiet, and I CAN'T SLEEP. Seriously, my body does not like working nights...even if it is just part time. Hopefully, I won't have to do it too much longer...maybe a post on that later...
I cut my finger a couple of days ago. Nothing traumatic. Just pulling on my pants and my thumbnail cut my third finger on my left hand. However, it really did hurt. It's almost done healing, but this afternoon, I was looking at it and it reminded me of a funny story in regards to my third finger on my right hand from a few years ago.
I was getting ready to go into Hobby Lobby to run a quick errand on beautiful spring day. But springtime in Texas = wind...so it was a beautiful, windy day. As I was shutting the car door, I remembered I forgot my purse in the front seat. I turn around, grabbed the edge of the door and WHAM...slammed my finger. Seriously, I was almost positive I was going to pull my hand out of the door and discover I was missing half of a finger. Luckily, I still had all of my appendages. But, my third finger on my right hand was MAJORLY cut open. I saw fat tissue. Pretty sure if I dug, I could have seen the bone. Right at the joint closest to my fingertip.
Now, I can do blood. I can do vomit. I can do poop. I do it much better when the blood is coming from someone other than myself though.
So, I'm a little light-headed but manage to get into the car, find a napkin, wrap my finger, and start driving myself to the Employee Wellness Clinic at United Regional to get some stitches. (Even though they just put some super glue in there. I could have just run into to Hobby Lobby and bought the super glue myself. Would have saved some money).
As I'm driving, my common sense in correlation with my nursing sense tells me to hold the hand above my heart to decrease the bleeding. Check. I've got my right hand in the air up above the steering wheel. I'm driving with my elbows trying to put pressure on my finger with my left hand. That's not working too well. Forget that. I start driving with my left hand. Right hand still in the air. Napkin falls off. Middle right finger exposed. And it's extended. And I don't even notice.
I continue to drive myself...light-headed...to the hospital. I pull up, get signed in, and wait.
As the light-headedness is wearing off, I start cracking up. While I'm sitting all by myself. I realize that I just drove across town, like a complete maniac, giving everybody the bird. Honestly, I had no idea. It never even crossed my mind that my bloody middle finger was completely offensive. A little naive? Probably. A little light-headed? Definitely.
So, in case any of you ever smash your middle finger in the car door and then start driving yourself to the hospital, try not to hold it above your heart, extended and exposed. It looks bad.
And to anyone who saw me driving in Wichita Falls that day, please excuse my middle finger. My intentions were pure. I just needed stitches.
I cut my finger a couple of days ago. Nothing traumatic. Just pulling on my pants and my thumbnail cut my third finger on my left hand. However, it really did hurt. It's almost done healing, but this afternoon, I was looking at it and it reminded me of a funny story in regards to my third finger on my right hand from a few years ago.
I was getting ready to go into Hobby Lobby to run a quick errand on beautiful spring day. But springtime in Texas = wind...so it was a beautiful, windy day. As I was shutting the car door, I remembered I forgot my purse in the front seat. I turn around, grabbed the edge of the door and WHAM...slammed my finger. Seriously, I was almost positive I was going to pull my hand out of the door and discover I was missing half of a finger. Luckily, I still had all of my appendages. But, my third finger on my right hand was MAJORLY cut open. I saw fat tissue. Pretty sure if I dug, I could have seen the bone. Right at the joint closest to my fingertip.
Now, I can do blood. I can do vomit. I can do poop. I do it much better when the blood is coming from someone other than myself though.
So, I'm a little light-headed but manage to get into the car, find a napkin, wrap my finger, and start driving myself to the Employee Wellness Clinic at United Regional to get some stitches. (Even though they just put some super glue in there. I could have just run into to Hobby Lobby and bought the super glue myself. Would have saved some money).
As I'm driving, my common sense in correlation with my nursing sense tells me to hold the hand above my heart to decrease the bleeding. Check. I've got my right hand in the air up above the steering wheel. I'm driving with my elbows trying to put pressure on my finger with my left hand. That's not working too well. Forget that. I start driving with my left hand. Right hand still in the air. Napkin falls off. Middle right finger exposed. And it's extended. And I don't even notice.
I continue to drive myself...light-headed...to the hospital. I pull up, get signed in, and wait.
As the light-headedness is wearing off, I start cracking up. While I'm sitting all by myself. I realize that I just drove across town, like a complete maniac, giving everybody the bird. Honestly, I had no idea. It never even crossed my mind that my bloody middle finger was completely offensive. A little naive? Probably. A little light-headed? Definitely.
So, in case any of you ever smash your middle finger in the car door and then start driving yourself to the hospital, try not to hold it above your heart, extended and exposed. It looks bad.
And to anyone who saw me driving in Wichita Falls that day, please excuse my middle finger. My intentions were pure. I just needed stitches.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Mad Photoshop Skills
Today, I don't feel like getting really deep. I just taped a segment for a video that'll play during the Easter service at Grace Church that kind of emotionally exhausted me. It's about the struggles I had with being pregnant as a diabetic and all of the emotions that surrounded it. And how I felt like I had to do everything perfectly for God to bless me with a healthy child. Even though I knew that I couldn't earn grace and health...it's still something I struggled with on a day to day basis. Good news is that He took me on a journey that led to a healthy baby, a healthy momma, and a greater understanding of the depth and grace of His Perfect Love. Come watch it next Sunday if you're in town.
So, for laughs, I'm going to post some INCREDIBLE pictures that one of my best friends gave me for a baby shower hostesses gift. One of the things that we girls probably all notice as we get a little older is that we don't have many pictures of ourselves with our girlfriends. Back in college, I had a picture with everyone I knew up on my bulletin board. Well, we just don't take pics like we used to anymore.
So, in leu of a real picture, Jennie created four much more priceless pictures to fill our frames for our hostess gift. This girl has some MAD PHOTOSHOP SKILLS.
Best. Shower. Gift. EVER. Enjoy.
So, for laughs, I'm going to post some INCREDIBLE pictures that one of my best friends gave me for a baby shower hostesses gift. One of the things that we girls probably all notice as we get a little older is that we don't have many pictures of ourselves with our girlfriends. Back in college, I had a picture with everyone I knew up on my bulletin board. Well, we just don't take pics like we used to anymore.
So, in leu of a real picture, Jennie created four much more priceless pictures to fill our frames for our hostess gift. This girl has some MAD PHOTOSHOP SKILLS.
Best. Shower. Gift. EVER. Enjoy.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Oh...the dreaded swimsuit season
Oh how I dread swimsuit season. Especially this first season after I've had a baby in the last nine months. Especially when I still have about 18 pounds to lose to get back to where I really want to be. (I TOLD you I was going to be transparent.) Slowly but surely, the weight is coming off but definitely not as fast as I'd like. All of the orange juice I drank and snacks I had to eat while being pregnant as a type I diabetic (even though most of them were really healthy) added up and helped me...should I say...blossom with a nice pregnant body. And after a thyroid problem at about four months postpartum...it's been a journey getting the scale back down to where it is. But again...slowly but surely, I'm getting there.
So, we just joined a neighborhood pool in Wichita Falls that I'm super-excited about going to this summer. It's a membership-only place that's really family friendly. You even bring your meat to grill and the side-dishes on Tuesday nights and the pool provides all the trimmings. You eat family-style with everyone else there. (For all you WF peeps, it's Fain Pool. Check out the site at www.fainpool.org).
However, this means I have to wear a bathing suit.
Now, I don't know about you, but I put bathing suit shopping up there on the list with jean shopping, trips to Wal-Mart (which I've started to avoid AT ALL COSTS), getting bit by fire ants, and childbirth (and I pushed for over two hours, folks).
Ben, Grant, and I were at Academy a couple of nights ago looking for some toys for Grant and a new swimsuit for Ben as he's training for a few sprint triathlons. (Yes...he's a man of many talents. But yes...he's taken, ladies.) So I thought I'd try on a bathing suit or two. And then I had a flashback of a couple of years ago...trying on a bathing suit in the SAME dressing room at the SAME Academy. Here goes:
I saw a cute little bathing suit (tankini with bikini bottoms) that I decided to try on. Put it on, looked in the mirror, tried sucking in a little, and decided that there must be bad lighting in that particular dressing room. I decided to ask the HORRIBLE question that we women ask our husbands...
"Babe...does this bathing suit make me look fat?" I ask.
"No, babe. But sometimes, when we look in the mirror, it's what we really look like..." he says.
"UM...WHAT?!" I calmly ask.
"No, no...you took that the wrong way. I mean, we gotta be okay with ourselves the way we are," he says.
"UM...uh huh. I think I'm not buying this bathing suit," I calmly and lovingly say.
Where I KNOW, without a doubt, that my husband was not saying I was fat or trying to make me feel bad, that story has become quite infamous amongst our friends. He meant well. I did learn, however, to not ask that question in a bathing suit again.
So, flash forward to this week. I tried on the bathing suit at Academy...and I actually looked okay. And Ben made up for his previous remarks and told me I looked great. Hmmm...I actually got a little boost of confidence in the dressing room, even though I am 18 pounds from where I want to be, while in a BATHING SUIT.
So...maybe Ben is right. Maybe we "gotta be okay with ourselves the way we are." I did earn every stretch mark I own, right? And I've got the most precious little boy to prove it.
But that question is now off-limits in the Hoover household. And will NEVER be asked again. I'm all about honesty and transparency...unless I'm in a bathing suit.
So, we just joined a neighborhood pool in Wichita Falls that I'm super-excited about going to this summer. It's a membership-only place that's really family friendly. You even bring your meat to grill and the side-dishes on Tuesday nights and the pool provides all the trimmings. You eat family-style with everyone else there. (For all you WF peeps, it's Fain Pool. Check out the site at www.fainpool.org).
However, this means I have to wear a bathing suit.
Now, I don't know about you, but I put bathing suit shopping up there on the list with jean shopping, trips to Wal-Mart (which I've started to avoid AT ALL COSTS), getting bit by fire ants, and childbirth (and I pushed for over two hours, folks).
Ben, Grant, and I were at Academy a couple of nights ago looking for some toys for Grant and a new swimsuit for Ben as he's training for a few sprint triathlons. (Yes...he's a man of many talents. But yes...he's taken, ladies.) So I thought I'd try on a bathing suit or two. And then I had a flashback of a couple of years ago...trying on a bathing suit in the SAME dressing room at the SAME Academy. Here goes:
I saw a cute little bathing suit (tankini with bikini bottoms) that I decided to try on. Put it on, looked in the mirror, tried sucking in a little, and decided that there must be bad lighting in that particular dressing room. I decided to ask the HORRIBLE question that we women ask our husbands...
"Babe...does this bathing suit make me look fat?" I ask.
"No, babe. But sometimes, when we look in the mirror, it's what we really look like..." he says.
"UM...WHAT?!" I calmly ask.
"No, no...you took that the wrong way. I mean, we gotta be okay with ourselves the way we are," he says.
"UM...uh huh. I think I'm not buying this bathing suit," I calmly and lovingly say.
Where I KNOW, without a doubt, that my husband was not saying I was fat or trying to make me feel bad, that story has become quite infamous amongst our friends. He meant well. I did learn, however, to not ask that question in a bathing suit again.
So, flash forward to this week. I tried on the bathing suit at Academy...and I actually looked okay. And Ben made up for his previous remarks and told me I looked great. Hmmm...I actually got a little boost of confidence in the dressing room, even though I am 18 pounds from where I want to be, while in a BATHING SUIT.
So...maybe Ben is right. Maybe we "gotta be okay with ourselves the way we are." I did earn every stretch mark I own, right? And I've got the most precious little boy to prove it.
But that question is now off-limits in the Hoover household. And will NEVER be asked again. I'm all about honesty and transparency...unless I'm in a bathing suit.
Monday, April 11, 2011
We Needed That
Fantastic weekend. Lately, weekends have consisted of either me working Friday/Saturday nights, Ben getting ready for trial, Ben going out of town, or all three of us going out of town to visit family. We did NONE of that this weekend...and it was great!!! We didn't even work on a home improvement project (and for those of you who REALLY know us know that that is how we spend almost all of our free time).
Friday night we went to dinner and Grant ate the food right off of my plate for the first time. Saturday morning we picked strawberries with some of our best friends and their kiddos. Ben thoroughly enjoyed eating them while he was picking them. Grant and I went back home from the orchard and he "napped" (some post on his lack of napping later) while Ben was an honorary coach at the MSU spring football game. We caught the end of the game and enjoyed the awesome breeze. Then dropped Grant off with the Durans and we went to the beautiful wedding of Kyle Lessor & Paige Pendley. Kyle and Ben work together in the DA's office. SO nice to get out...childless. I wore a bright yellow spring dress with a blue necklace and blue, white, and yellow striped peep-toe heels with a flower on the side. Not that you care at all...but I felt like kinda cute...and normally I'm either in pajamas, work-out clothes, or scrubs, so this was a really nice change. After the wedding, we picked up Grant from Aaron & Erin's house and as we were leaving, we heard an accident down the road. We all hoped in the car and came up on the scene of a car/motorcycle accident. Naturally, my adrenaline gets going, I pull off my super-cute heels and run across the road to help the motorcyclist laying on the median. Pretty sure he's going to be okay...just some abrasions and a busted-up knee. He WASN'T wearing a helmet though. He said he didn't hit his head...but just a side note to all of you motorcyclists...PLEASE wear a helmet :) This guy is lucky to be alive.
It took me a while to go to sleep because I was replaying the scene in my mind and playing the "what if" game, trying to brush up on my trauma nursing skills from back in the school days. We made it up early though, on Sunday and listened to two FANTASTIC speakers at Grace Church from Probe Ministries in Dallas speak about "Cultural Captivity." Basically, how our culture has affected the Church, our ways of thinking, our relationships, etc. It was awesome. Check out their website at www.probe.org.
One of the many things they touched on was the issue of transparency. Research shows that the top two prayer requests are about financial situations (i.e. I lost my job, we need to sell our house) and health (so-and-so's grandma is sick). Totally valid requests and God absolutely cares and wants to hear about those things. However...they are socially acceptable to share with others. The typical prayer request doesn't include "my marriage is struggling, I don't feel like Jesus could ever love me, I'm totally embarrassed about the mounds of debt I have, etc." So, so true. Good stuff. I'm a huge believer in transparency, being honest, sharing where you're really at, and loving people where they're really at. I'm challenging myself this week to practice transparency even more...so I'm challenging you to do it, too.
After church, we ate some DELICIOUS hamburgers, asparagus, and yes...homemade strawberry pie made out of handpicked strawberries made by the fabulous Erin Duran. Grant "napped" that afternoon (again, more on this later :) while Ben rode his bike, went back to hear the speakers finish up last night, ate dinner with a group of friends afterwards, came home, payed bills, and watched some much-needed rain fall.
Yes...it was a great weekend. And other than pay bills, we didn't do one single project or check anything off our to-do list. Just hung out, loved each other, loved our friends, and learned to love people a little better right where we're all at. We needed that.
Happy Monday.
Friday night we went to dinner and Grant ate the food right off of my plate for the first time. Saturday morning we picked strawberries with some of our best friends and their kiddos. Ben thoroughly enjoyed eating them while he was picking them. Grant and I went back home from the orchard and he "napped" (some post on his lack of napping later) while Ben was an honorary coach at the MSU spring football game. We caught the end of the game and enjoyed the awesome breeze. Then dropped Grant off with the Durans and we went to the beautiful wedding of Kyle Lessor & Paige Pendley. Kyle and Ben work together in the DA's office. SO nice to get out...childless. I wore a bright yellow spring dress with a blue necklace and blue, white, and yellow striped peep-toe heels with a flower on the side. Not that you care at all...but I felt like kinda cute...and normally I'm either in pajamas, work-out clothes, or scrubs, so this was a really nice change. After the wedding, we picked up Grant from Aaron & Erin's house and as we were leaving, we heard an accident down the road. We all hoped in the car and came up on the scene of a car/motorcycle accident. Naturally, my adrenaline gets going, I pull off my super-cute heels and run across the road to help the motorcyclist laying on the median. Pretty sure he's going to be okay...just some abrasions and a busted-up knee. He WASN'T wearing a helmet though. He said he didn't hit his head...but just a side note to all of you motorcyclists...PLEASE wear a helmet :) This guy is lucky to be alive.
It took me a while to go to sleep because I was replaying the scene in my mind and playing the "what if" game, trying to brush up on my trauma nursing skills from back in the school days. We made it up early though, on Sunday and listened to two FANTASTIC speakers at Grace Church from Probe Ministries in Dallas speak about "Cultural Captivity." Basically, how our culture has affected the Church, our ways of thinking, our relationships, etc. It was awesome. Check out their website at www.probe.org.
One of the many things they touched on was the issue of transparency. Research shows that the top two prayer requests are about financial situations (i.e. I lost my job, we need to sell our house) and health (so-and-so's grandma is sick). Totally valid requests and God absolutely cares and wants to hear about those things. However...they are socially acceptable to share with others. The typical prayer request doesn't include "my marriage is struggling, I don't feel like Jesus could ever love me, I'm totally embarrassed about the mounds of debt I have, etc." So, so true. Good stuff. I'm a huge believer in transparency, being honest, sharing where you're really at, and loving people where they're really at. I'm challenging myself this week to practice transparency even more...so I'm challenging you to do it, too.
After church, we ate some DELICIOUS hamburgers, asparagus, and yes...homemade strawberry pie made out of handpicked strawberries made by the fabulous Erin Duran. Grant "napped" that afternoon (again, more on this later :) while Ben rode his bike, went back to hear the speakers finish up last night, ate dinner with a group of friends afterwards, came home, payed bills, and watched some much-needed rain fall.
Yes...it was a great weekend. And other than pay bills, we didn't do one single project or check anything off our to-do list. Just hung out, loved each other, loved our friends, and learned to love people a little better right where we're all at. We needed that.
Happy Monday.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Beautiful Chaos
Grant is asleep. Laundry's in the washer. I've still yet to get in the shower but I'm sure that will get taken care of eventually. It's a stark contrast to what our lives looked like approximately an hour and a half ago.
My child, his high chair and the floor were covered in chopped up cantaloupe and wheat germ and I smelled poop coming from his direction. Of course, the smell could always be from Scout, our black lab who loves to roll around in the dirt and on top of any dead animal she can find. But this morning, the smell was lingering from Grant's behind. After cleaning the food off his chubby little hands, we headed into his room for a changing. I proceed to trip over the mound of toys in the middle of his room that have accumulating since yesterday afternoon when I last picked up. (He has learned the art of play in the last week and thus pulls out any toy and/or book he can get his hands on to chew on for about five seconds and move on to the next item.) I didn't fall or drop my child but I did stub my toe and probably mumbled a word I would rather him not repeat.
Off to the changing table we went. I have also recently discovered that Grant has a talent in headstands and acrobatics while I change his diaper. I used to be able to lay him on his changing pad, clean him up, and get a little face time when diaper duty time arrived. Now...not so much. In the 2.5 seconds after his diaper comes off and I start wiping, he manages to twist around onto his head while I'm holding his feet up. The first few times he did this, I got frustrated, firmly told him "NO" and gave him a little pat on his naked bum. However, this didn't seem to phase him. I have conceded to now change his diaper while he is in head-stand position. It makes getting in all of the nooks and crannies a bit more difficult and messier (hence the load of laundry in the washer) but hey...whatever works, right?
And this morning with my child in mid head-stand, my phone rings. Ben is calling to tell me how excited he is to be the honorary football coach at Midwestern State University's spring game this weekend and how he needs to buy a shirt or two to help him display some school pride. Seriously, a great phone call to pick up. I'm really excited for him. However, I did get poop on my phone.
Sometimes, a morning like this is a little annoying and makes me want to shower. (Still getting to that.) But this morning, I just laughed. Grant won't always be small enough to put up on a changing table and get face time with. Even if our face time was with him standing on his head. And Ben called to tell me how excited he was about this weekend. I'm blessed to have a husband that is my best friend, not just my roommate. And what's getting a child through the diaper years without a little poop on your phone? I wouldn't know...that life would be a little boring, I'd imagine.
"As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone.." - Psalm 103:15-16a
Today, I'm loving the chaos. Though hopefully, my days on earth will last a little longer than some of the grass in my backyard does. Can't wait to see Jesus face to face but I sure am glad I have now.
Because my days are number here, I'm going to try my best to love the chaos.
My child, his high chair and the floor were covered in chopped up cantaloupe and wheat germ and I smelled poop coming from his direction. Of course, the smell could always be from Scout, our black lab who loves to roll around in the dirt and on top of any dead animal she can find. But this morning, the smell was lingering from Grant's behind. After cleaning the food off his chubby little hands, we headed into his room for a changing. I proceed to trip over the mound of toys in the middle of his room that have accumulating since yesterday afternoon when I last picked up. (He has learned the art of play in the last week and thus pulls out any toy and/or book he can get his hands on to chew on for about five seconds and move on to the next item.) I didn't fall or drop my child but I did stub my toe and probably mumbled a word I would rather him not repeat.
Off to the changing table we went. I have also recently discovered that Grant has a talent in headstands and acrobatics while I change his diaper. I used to be able to lay him on his changing pad, clean him up, and get a little face time when diaper duty time arrived. Now...not so much. In the 2.5 seconds after his diaper comes off and I start wiping, he manages to twist around onto his head while I'm holding his feet up. The first few times he did this, I got frustrated, firmly told him "NO" and gave him a little pat on his naked bum. However, this didn't seem to phase him. I have conceded to now change his diaper while he is in head-stand position. It makes getting in all of the nooks and crannies a bit more difficult and messier (hence the load of laundry in the washer) but hey...whatever works, right?
And this morning with my child in mid head-stand, my phone rings. Ben is calling to tell me how excited he is to be the honorary football coach at Midwestern State University's spring game this weekend and how he needs to buy a shirt or two to help him display some school pride. Seriously, a great phone call to pick up. I'm really excited for him. However, I did get poop on my phone.
Sometimes, a morning like this is a little annoying and makes me want to shower. (Still getting to that.) But this morning, I just laughed. Grant won't always be small enough to put up on a changing table and get face time with. Even if our face time was with him standing on his head. And Ben called to tell me how excited he was about this weekend. I'm blessed to have a husband that is my best friend, not just my roommate. And what's getting a child through the diaper years without a little poop on your phone? I wouldn't know...that life would be a little boring, I'd imagine.
"As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone.." - Psalm 103:15-16a
Today, I'm loving the chaos. Though hopefully, my days on earth will last a little longer than some of the grass in my backyard does. Can't wait to see Jesus face to face but I sure am glad I have now.
Because my days are number here, I'm going to try my best to love the chaos.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
A Ticket on the Blog Bandwagon
I used to laugh at people who had blogs. I understood the ones that let grandparents see pictures of their grandchildren, or updates about the health of a loved one, or even the DIY and how-to blogs. But the ones about nothing? Really? Who would read that? And look at me now. My blog is called "The Everyday Life of an Everyday Wife." Sort of ironic. However, as I get a little older (and with age comes maturity and wisdom, right?) I realize that life is really quite entertaining. It's funny. It's beautiful. It's gut-wrenching. In it, there are lessons to be learned, prayers to be prayed, and stories to be told just for the sake of a chuckle. So, I'm hopping on the blog bandwagon and look forward to sharing our stories with you.
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