Cracker Crumbs and God Images

When I was in fifth grade, my teacher, Mrs. Smith, thought we always needed something extra to help us focus on math.  Every day she would give each student one saltine cracker.  Depending on the day, I would either let each morsel melt in my mouth, or chew it up in a couple of bites.  Those were the most delicious crackers I had ever tasted and they seemed exotic because they were from the teacher.

Saltines come packaged in sleeves and when Mrs. Smith had emptied a sleeve, she would draw a name out of her coffee mug.  This lucky student won the crumbs at the bottom of the packaging.  The winner could lick her finger and gather all the salty goodness at once or hold the package aloft and shake the crumbs down into her mouth or eat each crumb one by one, savoring their deliciousness.

Every time we had crumbs available, I prayed hard to win them.  Sometimes I would just pray a repetitive prayer, "Dear God, please, please, please let me win the crumbs."  Sometimes I would pray a bargaining prayer, "Dear God, if you let me win, I'll be nice to my sister and never fight with her again."

I remember praying just as hard about Six Flags.  My family would go once a year and the week before the trip, my sister and I were so excited we couldn't control ourselves.  We were hyper and fighting and feeding off each other's excitement.  My parents, at a loss on how to control us in the midst of this, would threaten to call the trip off.  I sincerely believed they would do this.  Every year when I went to bed before the big day, I would stay up praying, "Dear God, please, please, please, please, please."

To me, God was some sort of a fairy godmother.  I would want something, pray for it, and either receive it or not.  Praying for Six Flags always resulted in a trip to Six Flags.

Along with being a fairy godmother, to me, God was also a policeman and a judge.  Like Santa Claus, he knew when I had been naughty or nice.  Naughty children were punished.  Bad things happened when you deserved for them to happen and good things happened to those who deserved good things.  To solve fights between my sister and I, my mother often said, "Jesus loves children who share."  My over-active imagination decided that also meant that Jesus doesn't love children who don't share.  As I recall, I was an excellent sharer.

As I grew up, I thought of God not so much as a judge, but a dealer in karma.  At church we were frequently asked how many people we had lead to Jesus and I always felt guilty because my number was always zero.  I would console myself with the parable of the sower and the seeds and hope that I had planted seeds along the way since I obviously hadn't harvested any for the kingdom.

In college, God was my rescuer.  Whether it was a test, a late-night drinking, or a moment of overwhelmed absent-mindedness and loss of car keys, I prayed often for delivery.

Nowadays, I think of God as a constant, loving companion.  I don't believe he judges me, but I do believe he is sometimes sad when I don't live up to my potential.  I don't believe he keeps score, but I do believe he rejoices in our successes and is alongside us through trouble as well.  God isn't a fairy godmother, but I do thank him for my blessings.

I believe that any time you feel love, you are experiencing the Holy.  Whether it's cracker crumbs or Six Flags, or just a day to count blessings, God listens to all my prayers and I am grateful.

Letting Go

In the 1970s my mother sold Avon.  I have two of her suitcases and we use them for travelling.  I love the history of this bag, the bright, unique colors, and the size that's just perfect for an overnight stay.

This week I noticed that the zipper has torn.  It's possible I could find somehow to repair it, but it would be very difficult.  I'm going to have to let it go.

Our home is full; over full of memories and items that hold them.  I tend to forget, so I love having visual reminders of people and places in the past.  The problem is that the longer I live, the more memories and less space we have.

I could blame Adam and his own tendency to keep anything that has sentimental value, but frankly, I'm just as bad, if not worse.

Here's another example:

This spiral belonged to my maternal great-grandmother.  Inside are craft ideas from the 1950s and 1960s.  I've had this at least 10 years and have never even flipped through it all, much less made any of the crafts.  Just a minute ago I had a moment of silence for my great grandmother and placed this reverently in the recycling bin.

Here are Paul's "skeleton pants" with a skull on the back pocket.  He loves those pants, but the snap is now broken and the waist can't go around his waist.  They are too small, broken, and have holes in both knees.  I know that no one will ever wear them again.  We won't keep them and then thank ourselves later for keeping these broken pants.  Yet I struggle with letting them go.  They are so small and he is growing bigger every day.

Now that our floors are finished, we can start putting the house back together.  Our contractor mentioned to me that it looked like we had five houses worth of stuff in our one house.  In a way, he's right.  When my great grandmother passed away, we obtained some of her stuff.  A friend at church gave some of his stuff to us before he passed away.  I was in charge of my grandfather's estate sale when he moved to a retirement home, so of course I took lots of his stuff home as well.  Another dear elderly friend gave us stuff.  There's stuff from Adam's godparents, stuff from garage sales, and stuff that originated with us.  Every time Claire makes a craft, she insists that I keep it as a treasured possession, even the Mason jar with a feather glued in it.

We are living in a house of memories and we are getting buried alive.  So this week I have devoted my free time to learning to let go.  If there is value in every object, there isn't value in any of them.

Five Minute Friday: Rhythm

I love the rhythm of the school year and its predictability.  I love knowing what will take up most of our day and I schedule around it.  Just when we grow weary of the daily routines, there's a holiday that resets everything and then we begin again.

Summer's rhythm is slower and less predictable than the school year.  When we'd normally be putting kids in pajamas at 7 p.m., it's fine to take a dip in the pool.  Dinner at 8:30?  Sure.  We let the day set our pace and try not to rush.  There is too much rushing in life anyway.

It's important to me to keep the kids in a routine when they're in school.  It's equally important to teach them this slowness during summer.  

I have recently discovered that I am terrible at relaxing.  As a mother, wife, and homeowner, there is always work to do.  If I don't hang clothes daily, I get behind.  If I don't run the dishwasher at least once (sometimes twice) a day, dirty dishes start overtaking the kitchen.  However, since there is always work to do, I have to learn to turn a blind eye sometimes.  

So this summer I have scheduled many fun activities.  We'll be travelling around town to experience art and music, and trying to learn about the world as we go.  

We're not going to do too much, though, because this summer I am going to learn to relax.  I am going to be on a different rhythm.  I am going to learn to jump on the trampoline for an hour without a care in the world.  I will read storybooks by the pool. I will learn to sit and listen.

Dog poop, humility, and loving your neighbor

We have some fabulous neighbors and it's easy to love them.  One of our neighbors bakes a cherry pie for Adam each year and brings the kids birthday presents.  One neighbor leaves clippings and extra bulbs for planting on her curb to share with others.  Several neighbors are excellent at driveway chats.  Two kids down the street love to play with Claire and Paul while I talk with their mother.  Yesterday morning, our neighbor across the street who uses a cane and walks only half a block at a time, came all the way over here to deliver a cute watch he had found for Claire.
And then we have the "loose dog house" neighbors.  The neighbors that no matter how many times you tell them politely or rudely in person, no matter how many times animal control is called, no matter what, their dogs always seem to get loose and come poop in our yard.  This isn't new and it's something we've struggled with since we moved to the neighborhood, eight years ago.  I realize that when our biggest complaint of the entire neighborhood is that a dog occasionally comes and poops in our yard that we have it better than most, but it's still annoying.
Tuesday night I was packing and moving furniture and toys for the 1,000th time since March and I was hot and grouchy.  The dogs started going crazy barking and the kids realized we had a "loose dog" pooping in our yard.  I ran out and started yelling at the dog, chasing it back home and popping my apron at him.  Once I chased the dog to his home, one of the owners came out and apologized profusely.  She even offered to come clean up the poop.  I shrugged, took a deep breath and headed home, muttering all the way.  I even complained to another neighbor, "We've had eight years of this!"
I got back to moving stuff, making dinner, and supervising showers when the doorbell rang.  The loose dog house neighbor was at the door with a pooper scooper!
"I'm sorry to bother you," she said.  "But I can't find where the dog pooped.  Can you show me?"
I went outside and found it for her.  She apologized several times while picking up her dog's poop.  My anger diffused, I told her she had humbled me.
Events like this happen often to me.  Just as soon as I, judge of all people, decide that I don't/won't like someone, that they are not redeemable in my eyes, they do something that changes everything.  Just at the moment I have made my mind to hate, grace comes streaming in.
Even when I stamp my foot, love wins.  Every time.

Adam, my appendage

Today is Father's Day and Wednesday is Adam's birthday, so it's time for my annual ode to Adam, my husband and father two the two cutest, smartest, and sweetest kids I know.  (Just ask them and they will confirm that as a fact.)

Some families will be able to let their father relax for Father's Day, but it's impossible around here right now.  We've got floor laid in two rooms now and a bathroom, hallway, and den to go.  We also have baseboards, cabinets, and walls to paint, and all of this will need to happen before construction finishes, ideally next Saturday.

Tomorrow Adam's taken off work and we will take a family trip to Six Flags, but today will be church, painting, and reconfiguring of furniture.

Seemingly a lifetime ago, I fell in love with this skinny boy who was good at math.  Two kids and twelve years of marriage later, I still love that guy.  We became best friends before even thought about dating and I used to call him "Adam my Appendage."

He is like a part of me.  We always joke that I am completely right-brained and he is completely left-brained so together we make one brain.  Lately, he's been extremely busy, probably busier than me.  He's had some major projects at work so he hasn't been able to think about leaving the office before 8.  Each lunch time is taken up with a trip to Home Depot or a trip home to supervise the contractors. He also balances the checkbook, pays the bills, cleans the pool, and fixes anything that's broken.

The family is used to having him around, so it's difficult for all of us when he's pulled in so many different directions.  I get frustrated, but I know he's doing his best.  We hope and pray that once we get these floors in, that we won't be needing to do any more major home improvement for a long, long time.

So today I am thankful for Adam, my appendage.  He is such a part of me that when he's not around, I feel like I'm missing something.  I don't claim to know what it's like to be an actual amputee, but in my imagination, it's in small ways comparable to this.  I get used to having him around, and then when he's called other places, life functions differently.  Luckily his phases of busy-ness are just phases and not a way of life.

Here's a picture from 2008 when we were the Holy Family at church.  I was supposed to be Mary full of Grace but had just fallen off the donkey.  There Adam was, helping me up.  I love that guy!

Measurements of Time

Throughout my life, I have constantly changed the way I measured time based on my life at the time.
Adam and I each have our own Google calendar which we started to use a few years ago.  Switching our family calendar into electronic form saved many disagreements and miscommunication.  At a glance, we can tell when the other will be busy and when we are committed as a family.
I currently wear a $5 watch and had a history of always wearing one until Paul was born and I quit work.  Becoming a stay-at-home mom meant I wasn't tied to a clock any more.  We ate when we were hungry, and went to bed when we were tired.  My alarm clock made sure I woke up in time to get Adam up, but in general, our schedule depended on what suited our fancy at the time.
Now besides the traditional clock which I have to use for work and school, I measure my time in chunks.  I aspire to wake up at 5:00 every morning and usually get there.  That means I have three 30 minute chunks before Adam has to get out of bed.  Lately I've used one chunk for running, one chunk for Bible study and the other chunk is taken up with housework, sleeping in, or checking Facebook.
Once Adam is off to work, we have a long chunk before lunch, the chunk of lunch, and the chunk between lunch and dinner.  After dinner it's baths, stories, and bed.
While my day is measured in chunks, my week is measured in other ways.
Every Sunday or Monday morning, I bake Adam double chocolate chip muffins.  Each one is stored in a plastic container, which I stack next to the kitchen sink.  We start the week with five muffins, and I always look to see how many are left to remind myself how close we are to the weekend.
Weeks are measured by trips to the grocery store.  Every two weeks when Adam gets paid, I plan a menu for the next two weeks and get all my shopping done.  I usually don't have to return to the store until two weeks later.
At the start of every month I change our air conditioner's filter.  Our month is measured by when I have to buy the filter and when I have to change it.
Currently we are also measuring time with boxes.  Since we're getting all our floors redone, each room has to be packed up in turn.  Our contractor should finish the kitchen floor today, so we can slowly start unpacking and will be 1/3 the way to a normal home.
I also measure time with laundry.  "Whew, that was a two load day!" Or "Man, I had so much time today I folded and put up eight loads!"
I am curious others measure time in unique ways.

Boyette Summer of Fun

When the kids were little and I stayed at home, our fun activities were going to the library, zoo, and museum.  They're older now and still love that, but since they're both in school, I spend a long time each May planning out what we are going to do each summer.  Most activities we participate in are free, and many of my friends want to know about them, so I thought I'd share some of our schedule.

In June
Monday mornings at 9 a.m. the zoo opens early for members.  This happens every Monday in June and we're not going to miss it!

Wednesday, June 12 at 10:30 a.m. the Amon Carter Museum has free story time with a craft.  Click the link for details.  This happens every Wednesday and we're going to try to make them often.

4:00 p.m. the Modern Art Museum has Wonderful Wednesdays with free admission and an explanation of an artist shown at the gallery.  There is also a craft, often a sketch.

Friday, June 14 at 6 p.m. the Cowgirl Museum will have a Battle of the Burger.  Admission is free and there will be armadillo races!  As an added bonus, Adam will be at this event in his official capacity as a Sugar Daddy (men's PTA at Claire's school).

On June 26 we'll be in Arlington for a free concert at the Levitt Pavillion.  The band is Vocal Trash and they sound like they'll be interesting.  This show happens twice, so we'll hit the one that fits our schedule.

Another activity we'll do are the Free Fish Feedings at Bass Pro Shop on Wednesdays at 12:30 p.m.

Every Saturday during the summer you can buy a family TRE pass at the ITC station for $10.  We'll be using that more than once to go to the Perot Museum in Dallas, or the Dallas Museum of Art, etc. etc.

On July 17 at 9:30 a.m. we'll go to Calloway's Nursery for Tin-Can Painting.  Free.

We always try to hit as many museums as possible and visit downtown Fort Worth to feel fancy, visit the library, and ride Molly the Trolley for free.  This year I might venture to take the kids to the Water Gardens; I'm a little bit braver and they're a little more steady on their feet.

The Fort Worth Public Library has a slew of activities and we'll go to many of them, but the one I want to tell people about is Lucas Miller.  We saw him last year and I can't say enough good about this singer-songwriter.  He writes catchy songs for kids about major science themes.  (He has one about symbiosis!)  He'll be in Fort Worth in July and I recommend it to everyone!  His program is called Science Rocks.  Click this link to see the schedule of his performances.  I bought one of his CDs last year for $10.  The kids have memorized it, and I even took it to school to play for my third graders.  If you want a sample of his songs, check out his youtube.  Here's one of the kids' favorites:

One foot at a time

A long time ago I was a runner.  I ran for fun during middle school and  high school.  When I was in high school, I got to school at 6:30 a.m. so I could get my run in before the school day started.  In college, late nights "studying" broke my habit.
I know exercise is important so about every six months I rearrange part of my schedule to fit in some exercise routines.  I always hope to make it a daily discipline, but haven't succeeded for a long term basis yet.  It's hard because my life is caring for others and I can't exactly say, "Kids, you guys take care of yourself while I go for a jog."  Adam would watch them, but by the time he gets home at night, I am fading fast.
Last Saturday I had some Kohl's cash and a couple of hours by myself so I went shopping and bought some new clothes.  I also bought workout clothes, but was disturbed that there weren't any workout clothes in the "women who are bigger than a toothpick" section.  I was able to score a pair of shorts that fit, but they aren't very generous in length.
So on Sunday morning I put on my tennis shoes and new workout clothes with a little bit of hope.  I ran 100 yards, maybe, but walked the rest of a mile.  Yesterday I might have run a quarter of a mile.  Today my shins are sore, but I'm going to keep plugging.
I've heard many people say that working out makes them feel so good.  I haven't gotten to that point that it makes me feel physically good.  However, it is a relief to have it checked off my list.  I have pride in knowing I took care of myself that day and I don't feel guilty for being overweight and sedentary.  I also immediately had more energy.
Today I woke up fully rested at 4 and now that it's five, I'm about to hit the pavement.  I'm not winning any awards for speed or style, but I'm taking care of myself, and that's a good thing.

Movie, Coin Show, and Birthdays: A weekend of fun!

This weekend was absolutely perfect.

On Friday night, we watched Herbie the Love Bug on the front lawn at our church. I packed a picnic dinner and we had fun!

On Saturday morning, Adam took the kids to a TNA show. That's right.  It's the Texas Numismatic Association.  The kids participated in an auction and won free coins. 

They were kind of  hyper toward the end apparently.  They had a lot of fun and Sarah enjoyed going to Kohl's by herself.

Saturday night was my maternal grandpa's 80th birthday party.  Here's my grandparents with all their kids.

The fab five.  My mom is on the end.

We tried to get Grandma and Grandpa to kiss, which was  hilarious.

We all had a good time laughing about their squished noses.

They are so cute!

In this photo, Grandma isn't mad.  She's in shock because my aunt got the group photo developed at Wal-Mart during the party.  She had a frame waiting and gave the framed photo to them.  Grandma couldn't wrap her brain around how it happened so fast.

On Sunday we celebrated Claire's birthday at Build a Bear Workshop.  This was a pretty good bargain.  For $171 each of our party guests took home a bear with a sound box inside and clothes.  Our party leader was awesome!  He also asked if I did stand-up comedy on the side which tells you about what level his humor was.

Claire, her best friends, and her brother with their new bears.

Group hug!

Paul's bear is named Batty.  Wonder why.

Claire's bear is named Blackie.


It was a weekend full of laughs and happiness.  I can't wait to see what this summer has in store!