Do you ever wonder what if...

I just stopped doing all the stuff that I do?  Would anyone notice?  Would they notice but not really get it?  Those of you out there who are doers, you know what I'm talking about.

I was just imagining on my lunch hour, after spending almost the entire hour in Wal-Mart grocery shopping, that sometimes I just want to quit doing all of this stuff that I'm doing.   And then I kinda grinned and snickered because my family would not know what to do.

It cracks me up when I ask my children to sort the laundry and put away THEIR clothes...it's like I've asked them to do something completely out of this world, like it's an inconvenience and because I'm mom, it's my job.  I would venture to guess that about 70% of the time, I sort, fold and put away everyone's laundry without asking for any help.  So what if I only did my laundry and left them to fend for themselves?

And about the dirty dishes...I know it's hard to complain when you have a dishwasher, and I have mentioned this before, but why am I the only person that can put the dishes in the dishwasher?  Especially after I have literally just finished emptying out the sink full of dirty dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher.  I will shut the door to the washer, turn around and someone will have slipped a cereal bowl and spoon back into the empty sink.  Seriously, what if I only concerned myself with the dishes that I myself dirtied?

I was a messy child.  I know that complaining about Madolyn's room being horrific will do little good...and I can't say a whole lot because my room was horrible growing up.  I am proud to say that every single day before I can leave the house, I make my bed (unless Jay is in it, and then sometimes, I will just make my half).  The house can look like a tornado and hurricane have joined together and zeroed in on our house, but if you look in my bedroom, that bed is made.  For some reason, that makes me feel like my room is clean and I can leave.

I have tried to stage a protest a time or two before and it literally gets me nowhere...but a messier mess than before.  I think I would have to truly let go of just about everything and close my ears and eyes, grin and bear it for a very long time before it would actually work.  But by that point, would I be able to find my way out of the house?  Hoarders from A&E would be moving in...

On my mind 24/7 are the things that I have to do, the places I need to be or get someone else to, the list of grocery items we don't have and need, where will the kids be after school, who will run here if I have to be there...you know, this list could go on and on.  There are other people who seem oblivious to anything or anyone but themselves.  I simply cannot imagine it.  I work with someone who at times is very self-centered.  I don't think it is necessarily his fault, but it is just the way it is.  I think he would freak out if he knew the things that go on in my life, as well as others, after work hours.  I have joked with people that the busiest part of my day is after 4:00.  I bet there are millions of others who could agree with me there.  Sometimes when I'm at work, I can just sit here and breathe for a minute.  It's almost relaxing, like a reprieve of sorts.

One of my least favorite phrases in the English language is "It's not my job."  I realize that in some professions or work places, doing something outside the framework of what is considered "your job" could get you into trouble.  I get it...but what I cannot understand is when someone just closes their mind to the possibility of stepping outside their little box.  I was in a job for 11 years and I can tell you that if I had only done the tasks specifically associated to my defined profession and job, I would have been sitting there at work until midnight.  Yes, I created a hole there that I knew I would never climb out of, but my thought process was to "git 'r done" so that I could git on home.  I could have dug my heels in and refused to do this or that, and that would've gotten me...again, sitting at my desk after closing with an hour drive home. 

I realize that part of my problem here is that I am somewhat of a control-freak.  I often feel as if things won't get done unless I do them...so I just go ahead and do them...and they might also not be done to my standards so I go ahead and do them instead of redoing them later.  I'm trying very hard to not be that way in many areas of my life...specifically because I do not want my family using that as an excuse to not help me around the house.

Sometimes I have this problem at church as well.  Everyone is standing around looking at one another waiting for something to happen and I'll just jump in.  It makes me feel like I'm bossy and want to take charge, but in reality, I just cannot stand to waste valuable time (ha) while someone figures out whose job it is to do something that nearly everyone in the room is capable of doing.  It is kinda sad that people are so worried about screwing something up, they choose not to do...anything.  Boo.

I was in a conversation before Christmas with someone talking about how their extended family expects her and one other person to do everything when it comes to the family get-togethers and I know that happens A LOT with probably almost every family.  There are just some people who don't mind carrying that burden, who like to be in control and who actually thrive on it...but there are also some people who carry on and pretend like it's okay that they get dumped on at every turn and would be absolutely 100% okay if someone else would like to take a turn.  Of course, the fear is that if that same person doesn't take on the project, as usual, no one else will either and the tradition or event will cease to exist.  It is scary.

Too funny, I just went downstairs to get postage on some envelopes and noticed two things...that I don't do unless prompted when the two different people who do those two things are gone.  So there is no docket in the hallway (and hasn't been the last two days) and I have not been dumping the water pitchers from counsel table since our bailiff has been in and out over the holidays (so the water hasn't been too fresh).  I guess I'm just as guilty as the next guy!

I suppose I'm probably sounding pretty whiny just about now...oh, someone has ruffled her feathers, watch out.  No, nothing specific has happened, I'm not mad at anyone, I'm just feeling overloaded and like I would gladly share some duties with someone for a change!  I'm guessing after the holidays, this is common.  I know there are many (of my five readers) out there who have this very same problem.  I certainly don't want it to sound like I am busier than anyone else and do everything and am all-important.  It is just something that I guess I need to work on within me first, then maybe I can get out there, train some newbies and let go :)

This crazy weather!

As I look out my office window and see the sun shining brightly and hear the wind howling and whipping around pretty good, I cannot believe it is the end of December and the temperatures are hitting the 50's.  I suppose I should not complain about this because, if you know me at all, you know that 99.9% of the time, I am cold...even in the summer at times.

I think back to January of this year and remember that there was an ice storm that left us without power for nearly five days; others were without it even longer.  Jay thought it was great.  The kids and I wanted to strangle him every time he said this.  He was working nights, which meant that his day consisted of sleeping, eating and going to work, and it was perfectly fine with him if he slept all day long and slept in cooler temps, so the furnace being off was icing on his perfect little cake.

The kids and I had a much different viewpoint.  As in, day one, scrambling around to clean out fridge and put things in garage so that everything wouldn't be lost; getting kerosene and the kerosene heater in the house; locating the lanterns, lamp oil, candles, flashlights and putting them within reach; figuring out what to do when it came time to go to work and the need for a shower on my part.  I believe the kids and I stayed home two nights and that was enough.  We finally went to town to stay at my in-laws and then the kids and I slept terrible because the lights shining in the windows and door window kept us awake...we like it as dark as possible...but we had warm showers and the television...ahhh

I think it was the very last day that we decided to borrow a generator and our friend found us one.  By the time we got it down to our house and hooked up, our power was back on.  It sure would've been nice to have it a few days earlier, but because this power outage was so "great" we didn't need one.  I think it was about the time that Jay was off nights and going to be around that the generator showed up.  (haha)

I will say that I am very thankful to live in a fairly new house that is very well insulated and that we have a wood stove in the basement and a kerosene heater.  With the kerosene heater, we could easily get the house up to 75 or 80 in an hour.  It was warmer in the living room/kitchen area that week than it normally would be...we just had to shut it off at night and when we left the house. 

It wasn't the end of the world by any means, in fact, we refered to it as an inconvenience.  It wasn't like a flood or forest fire, hurricane or tornado where our home was literally destroyed or ruined beyond repair.  Our community was still there.  Everyone was healthy and safe.  I didn't freeze to death or anything either.  We still had all of our very important "stuff" and were warm, fed and clean;)  It was probably a very good learning experience for my kids as well as myself.  And we are glad that Jay enjoyed it so much. 

I heard there were some local folks that went to a hotel that week to stay.  I'm thinking if power outage #2 ever comes along, the kids and I may leave Jay at home to enjoy his solace and we'll go to a hotel with an indoor pool and hot tub.  Oh yeah.

Entertaining Angels

Stay on good terms with each other, held together by love. Be ready with a meal or a bed when it's needed. Why, some have extended hospitality to angels without ever knowing it!     Hebrews 13:1-2 (MSG)

I keep discovering new scripture.  New as in new to me.  I was starting a Nookbook and this scripture was the foreword.  I fell in love with it. How cool would it be to entertain an angel and not even know it?!  I hope and pray I get that opportunity, although I suppose, as the scripture says, I may never even know it!

Christmas morning at church, I was leading the services.  As I stood up looking out at everyone, I noticed a man sitting in the foyer on the church pew facing me.  He wasn't inside the sanctuary, just sitting out there watching.  He was dressed nice and looked like a friendly fellow.  When church was over, I glanced around to see where he was and who he "belonged" with because I didn't recognize him.  He was nowhere to be seen.  Another church member asked me if I saw him and knew who he was.  No, I did not.  So I inquired of my parents and some others.  No one else had noticed him.  I then commented that maybe he was an angel watching over us on Christmas morning!!  I guess we may never know.

I realize that it is unlikely a family would end up at my doorstep after becoming stranded, but I suppose it could happen.  I suppose a family could lose their home to a fire or something and need a place to stay to get on their feet.  Maybe car trouble in a small town with no hotel would give me the opportunity to open my home up to some strangers.  It may certainly be an inconvenience but what a wonderful opportunity to share God's love with someone.  It is hard to even think about doing something like that in this day and age where people are often mistrusting and skeptical of strangers.  That is where faith and prayer have to pick up the slack.  If God is sending an angel our way, we must be prepared to accept them, right?!

A couple of years ago, Jay was selling his truck.  We advertised it in the newspaper and sold it to a guy who was going to meet us about 30 miles away.  The plan was that Jay and Lane would drive the truck to the meeting spot and then Madolyn and I would come pick them up in my car.  Madolyn and I had only been on the interstate about three miles when I noticed a person walking along the side of the road.  It was raining.  There was quite a bit of traffic and it was chilly out.  Definitely not a nice day for a stroll.  Without a second's hesitation (and a moment of insanity, perhaps), I whipped off to the shoulder, put my blinkers on and asked the girl if she would like a ride.  I had seen an older car off the road about a half mile back and she was walking in the direction I was going.  The next town was only a couple miles away.

I never once thought about what I was doing or about the fact that my daughter was in the car with me.  I didn't have any of those thoughts swirling around in my head of what if she's a psycho, a serial killer, or some crazed drug addict ready to pounce on me.  I whispered a prayer, she climbed into the backseat and we went on down the road.  I asked her a few questions without being too pushy, and although she gave me somewhat vague answers, she was pleasant and appreciative.  We dropped her off at the gas station in the next town.   As soon as she got out, I thought, what in the world was I thinking?  And the thoughts started swarming. 

I chalked it up to one of those moments where God was in control of the situation.  He planted me in the right place at the very moment that girl needed a ride.  She needed someone safe to take her where she needed to go.  I would venture to guess that she probably was nervous about getting into the car with a complete stranger in a state she didn't live in too!  Do I routinely pick up hitchhikers or folks walking down the highways or roads?  Absolutely not.  But that day, there wasn't a moment's hesitation.  I'm hoping that is how it will always be, you know.  Like we'll just know this is what we have to do.

I hope that I am becoming that person that is accepting of others and ready to extend a hand when someone is in need.  And I want my home to feel like a safe and welcoming place for people to be as well.  I want it to be open and ready to extend hospitality to angels.  Our church should be that place as well, welcome, inviting, comfortable.  Just like the man on Christmas morning, we have to be ready to accept new folks into our families, make them feel like they are belong there, not outsiders.  You know like try scooting on over from YOUR spot in YOUR pew (even though you've sat in that very spot for years) to make room for another.  Attempt to greet the newcomer that sneaks in just a little late and invite them back.  Be interested in hearing about them if they're willing to share.  Extend a hand.

I challenge you as the new year begins to open yourselves up to the idea of accepting and helping others in need.  Often the lesson to be learned is not one you are giving, it is the one you are receiving.  I so hope that some day I will have accepted our call to extend hospitality to angels!

It all comes tumbling down...

Christmas is officially over for the Wilhoit's.  We had our final Christmas exchange last night at Jay's parents house.  It was extra special this year because Jay's brother is home from California.  We only get to see him about once a year, if we're lucky, and sometimes it is at another family member's wedding.  Everyone was there and we took some family photos...and then my camera died.  Ha.

I am always soooo ready for the decorations to be put away and the living room back to normal.  I don't mind the wintery decorations staying out (snowman, my sparkly church, etc) but the tree is just too bulky.  Although I look forward to everything being back in order, I am reminded that my house is never "in order" or whatever that means.

And usually we have the kids go through their rooms and get rid of a few items (like 20) to make room for the new stuff.  We haven't done that yet, but it is coming.  It has to.  As usual, they received way too much stuff and there is no room in the inn, so-to-speak.  I have given Madolyn a little motivation...if she cleans her room totally, top to bottom, I will paint her walls.  We shall see...I may regret that promise...

Every year I tell myself that I will purge my Christmas decorations and give away or toss out the ones I no longer use when it's time to get it all out and decorate.  Every year when that time comes, I tell myself that I'll do it when I take the tree down and put things away because that makes more sense, of course.  When that point arrives, I tell myself I cannot take anything Christmasy to the resale shop in town for two weeks (because they close and they don't really want Christmas things now) so I might as well just plan to go through it all next year when I get my stuff out for Christmas.  Do you see the pattern?

And here's the kicker...This Friday Jay is having reconstructive ankle surgery, which means that this girl will be house-bound at least a few days tending to the needs of my patient...God, give me strength...and the decor and it's appointed location for storage is in the basement or attic...which is sort of perfect because both will be out of Jay's reach...and I'm not giving him a bell.  This could be the exactly what I need to motivate my lazy be-hind.  The only places I will be able to go within the house and still be semi-accessible to my patient are the basement and attic...my escape.  I may never come out. 

So how 'bout saying a few prayers for the Wilhoits this weekend?  Specifically, that Jay & I don't kill one another, that I don't strangle Jay in his sleep, that the kids will give up a few (like 50) things, and that if I do retreat to the basement or attic to organize (of course), that I come back out...because eventually someone will notice I am missing, right...and eventually Jay's voice may give out...

Oh, and I think I'll hide Hank the Tank's salvation army bell...if Jay gets his hands on that this weekend...no, maybe I'll put it just out of his reach...wait, that would be mean, wouldn't it?  Okay, prayers are appreciated :)

Smile!!

“A happy heart makes a face look cheerful. But a sad heart produces a broken spirit.” Proverbs 15:13 (NIV)

I have a sign hanging in my living room that reads "Smile it confuses people."  That is often my mantra.  Either that one or the famous line from the movie Madagascar, "Smile and wave, boys, just smile and wave."  A smile can so often make someone's day.  A smile from you to a friend, foe or stranger could be the only 'gift' that person receives that day.  And hey, it's free and every single one is unique!

I read the "Smile it confuses people" sign over and over before deciding not to buy it.  Then thought about it for a week and returned to find the sign still at Onie's Acres down by Moonshine.  I purchased it and immediately hung it right above our television.  It is sad to say that sometimes smiling will confuse people.  There are so many people going through life who frown and expect others to frown.  I am saddened when I run into someone a time or two and they are wearing that same frown on their face, as if their cheeks know no other way.  So Smile at them!  Show them how it's done.  It's kind of like killing them with kindness, you know.

I try to be a smiler.  I try to smile or wave at everyone around me.  I guess it is because I cannot stand to see people unhappy...although I do realize that a smile on the outside doesn't mean someone is happy on the inside.  I don't smile to be fake or pretend I'm happy.  I smile because I want to...and maybe to confuse people;)  And frowning gives you wrinkles.  Boo to the wrinkles!

I've told our youth group kids over and over, sometimes the best thing you can do is to smile and wave.  You may not like something you're being told, you may not want to deal with whatever it is, but smile and wave and move on.  If you get all worked up about it, you're wasting energy and happiness.  Life is too short to be grumpy and hung up on issues that aren't worth stewing about.  I say this for you as much as I say it for myself. 

I love this scripture above.  Don't you feel better when you see a cheerful face?  A cheerful face is uplifting to the soul.  To know someone has a sad heart and broken spirit makes me sad.  I don't want to have a broken spirit and I don't want anyone else to either...and that's not what God's plan is for me or for you...so be happy! 

Often the cold temps and shorter days give way to the winter blues.  I understand that, sometimes when it's dark and gloomy out, I have an off day which I'll blame on the lack of sunshine...and if it was 90 degrees and sunny, I would change my 'tude real quick!  I have reminded my coworkers several times that my attitude depends on the sun and the weather...and sometimes I mean it.  Just ask Jay!

Today is as good a day as any to start smiling.  When you go out today, give it all you got and smile, smile big.  Smile and wave if you have to.  Smile because it confuses people...Everyone could use a facelift/faithlift now and then.

Just a little understanding...

Give me understanding and I will obey your instructions; I will put them into practice with all my heart.  Psalm 119:34 (NLT)

Last week I had the pleasure of joining Jay as he took one of our horses to a race in Ohio.  It was just he and I and it was a nice little getaway, although very short...and our sweet Divinity Doll didn't win...but that is horse racing.  Anyway...

I learned a valuable lesson on the drive home.  Again, one that goes along with a post from earlier this week, sometimes you just don't realize how difficult something is until you've tried it.  And this was a perfect example.  The traffic was horrible.  It was all interstate driving, thankfully, but with a goose-neck horse trailer and a large truck it was tricky.  It was around 5:00 on a Friday evening the weekend before Christmas so you can imagine how many travelers were on the highway.  And a large number of them were in a big hurry.

Believe me, I have been that irritated, frustrated driver screaming, "Why won't you get your SMV out of my way so I can pass because I'm in a bigger hurry than you?!"  I have been the psycho lady who is ranting and raving under my breath trying to will the SMV (slow moving vehicle in case you didn't know)  to get over so I can keep on movin' on because, of course, I'm late...but now I get it.

You see, with a large four-horse goose-neck trailer that is actually hauling a horse, you cannot just speed up and slow down willy-nilly.  You can't just whip in and out of lanes of traffic.  You have to leave gaps of space and plan for sudden stops and such.  At one point the traffic literally halted without warning and it was an extremely close call for us...we did have to slam on the brakes to avoid the semi in front of us and Jay hopped out to check on Doll, and fortunately, although breathing heavy, she was fine.  Thankfully, there were not other horses in there to knock into each other.

During farming season it's a somewhat similar scenario.  You are late and you get behind a tractor pulling a large implement or a grain truck hauling grain to the elevator on a country road.  Yikes...if you could just pass and get going.  But you don't get the chance.  And you are cursing under your breath at the farmer who is only trying to do his job, a job that he truly loves, a job that puts food on our tables.  Drive a tractor or a grain truck and see how easy it is to get over, slow down or stop on a dime. 

I learned this very valuable lesson with my Grandma Lynch was still alive as well.  She was in a wheelchair after a stroke left her paralyzed.  There was a time I didn't think twice about using a handicapped bathroom or complaining because there were a dozen handicapped parking places up close and I was walking half a mile to the door...on my very capable legs.  I would get irritated waiting on someone who was loading or unloading someone with a wheelchair when they were trying to get the chair in or out of the trunk or I would become impatient if I was waiting to use the restroom and the person in the handicapped stall was taking forever.

That is until I was the one transporting my Grandma in her wheelchair somewhere or taking her to the restroom in a public area.  My perspective changed dramatically.  I had never looked at the size of a doorway, checked for steps going into or out of somewhere or tried to gauge how much room there was to maneuver a wheelchair around in a public place or restroom.  You may not realize how bulky and heavy those chairs are if you've never had to handle one.  It changed my way of thinking forever. 

There are things in this life that we will never understand because we haven't lived them.  There are situations that come up where we would like to think we understand how we would handle them.  The truth is, most of us will never understand certain variables in life until we've been there ourselves.  We can start by praying that God will give us the understanding necessary to handle the situation.

Next time you're out and about and you get behind a slow horse trailer, take a deep breath and consider the bulkiness of their load.  Ease off and wait until they are in a safe position to get over to allow you to pass.  When you see someone handling a wheelchair and they're struggling, offer to help them out or open a door.  Consider yourself in that position.  Ask God for understanding.

Happy birthday, Jesus and Merry Christmas!

Just wanted to give a big shout-out to Jesus for his birthday...and to wish you all a Merry Christmas.   May God bless you and your family this day and keep you safe.  Love ya!

Stuff for the tabloids?

 This is how Jesus the Messiah was born. His mother, Mary, was engaged to be married to Joseph. But before the marriage took place, while she was still a virgin, she became pregnant through the power of the Holy Spirit. Joseph, her fiancé, was a good man and did not want to disgrace her publicly, so he decided to break the engagement quietly. As he considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream. “Joseph, son of David,” the angel said, “do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife. For the child within her was conceived by the Holy Spirit. And she will have a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”  Matthew 1:18-21 (NLT)


When reading the events leading up to the birth of our Savior, Jesus, it comes to my mind that it is somewhat scandalous.  Surely these days, it would be front-page news, tabloid-type stuff.  Hearing that Mary, engaged to Joseph, was pregnant and claimed to be a virgin.  And that the only reason she knows is because Gabriel appeared to her and told her this exciting news! Whoa, if someone tried to tell us that kind of a tale these days, they would certainly be considered a liar or just plain nuts.

And it may be no big deal now days to many, but back then being pregnant prior to the marriage was an absolute no-no.  It just didn't happen.  Hearing the news that Mary was pregnant and knowing he had not been with her and that she had been away for a few months, and now she is standing there in front of him with a full, growing belly had to be not only shocking but disappointing and heartbreaking for Joseph.  He was immediately forming a plan to break it off...and I can understand that.

Thankfully, he was met by an angel who informed him that what Mary had told him was, in fact, the truth.  Joseph chose to be faithful and he decided to stand by his future young wife and do the right thing.  Hallelujah!  Do you think that would've made the tabloids too...someone doing the right thing?!  Probably not.  Unfortunately, that isn't stuff we want to read about on the front page.

And how about this...when Mary goes to see Elizabeth, her aunt, Elizabeth's belly leaped with joy as the two cousins meet for the first time, so-to-speak.  Elizabeth too had been told by Gabriel that she would give birth to the one who would pave the way for the Savior.  How cool is that?!  Would we believe a story like that today?  It might actually make the tabloids, but it wouldn't be because of its believability, would it?

Is the fact that the Wise Men used a bright shining star as their GPS system worthy of headlines?  Sounds crazy to me...but they didn't have TomTom's or Garmins, internet, cell phones, newspapers, television.  They had no means to know the path on their own, God provided the way. 

The story and facts surrounding Christ's birth is amazing and awesome.  It is worthy of front page news and should be picked up by the Associated Press and circulated world-wide often...I should hope.  It is our job as Christians to make sure that the truth about Christmas is revealed to others around us...not just in December, but throughout the year.  It is a fabulous story, with interesting facts and of great importance to us as Christians.  Make it your front-page news, my friends.  Merry Christmas!

O Christmas Tree, how lovely...

I have the best Christmas tree stories from the Quacker Ranch.  I almost forgot to share at least one.  I'll try to hurry up and squeeze this post in before Christmas.

The Quack always believed in a real tree.  We would head out as a family and go to the nearest Christmas tree farm and choose the perfect tree.  I have a very vivid memory of that humongous saw the tree farm guy would use.  Scary!!

One year I was having a Christmas slumber party.  (My mom must have been nuts or I was very persuasive.)  It had to have been in December because we had our Christmas tree up.  I remember waking up some time that night to the giggles of my friends...and here is why.

Our Christmas tree that year had a few issues.  First of all, it was a tad short for our usual spot in front of the picture window...so dad set it on top of the piano bench as a little boost.  Secondly, it had a couple of bare spots for some reason...apparently we didn't notice them out in the wild when picking the perfect tree that this was a problem.  The Quack's solution:  to duct tape some branches on and spray paint them green. 

And that is why my friends were laughing.  They were laughing at our Christmas tree.  That memory has forever been etched in my mind...and why wouldn't it?  Good times...

A fun, old-fashioned family Christmas...

From the mouth of a true genius, Clark W. Griswald.  It wouldn't be Christmas without watching Christmas Vacation and the Christmas Story at least a dozen times, at least at our house.  It is pretty bad when my kids, at very young ages, would answer my question with the famous line from Christmas Vacation, "I don't know, Margo."

I have never gotten into the older, classic Christmas movies.  I have never seen "It's a Wonderful Life" or even the original Scrooge movies...what is the name of that?  There have been remakes...it's escaping my memory.  But you pop in Christmas Vacation or Christmas Story and we are all set. 

Throughout the Christmas season, you will often hear my family quoting lines from both movies.  I cannot tell you how many times we'll say "Fragile" in Italian of course, or "It was...soap poisoning!"  Lane is all about the BB gun these days, so of course, he's heard, "You'll shoot your eye out, son," a time or two this year.  There's a house down south in the country that has a leg lamp...they always put it front and center in their picture window during Christmas.  How can you not chuckle when you get a glimpse of that as you pass by?

And how can you possibly sing Deck the Halls, without adding "Sing it, Russ" and then the "Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.  Then there's Uncle Eddie...everyone has one, you know it's true.  His famous line about the RV and the sewer is classic, but I best not repeat it here.  We don't even put Christmas lights up outside much anymore because who can compete with Clark's magnificent display?!

You can hear the snickers around the table when someone makes the mistake of asking another to say Grace before the meal...because as you know, she passed away thirty years ago.  And the whole time the blessing is being said, you see the shoulders of the person next to you shaking from laughter.  And if someone brings a jello mold, well, you know...no one wants to eat that!

BB guns, leg lamps, the dream of a bowling alley, a pink bunny rabbit suit, a bar of Life Boy soap, your boss with a big red bow on his head, jelly-of-the-month-club subscription, breaking wind and, if you don't mind, buying yourself something real special is what Christmas is all about...right?!

No one should let Christmas past without watching these two classics.  If you haven't seen them, shame on you.  Get out and get them.  Don't rent them, buy them.  They never get old.

FYI, if you find yourself without supper on Christmas day, visit your local Chinese Restaurant...of course, you may be the only people there, but maybe they'll sing to you :)  Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

First Aid

I posted this little story on my Facebook, but thought I would expound on it a bit.  Sunday afternoon I decided to call the nursing home and see if my grandma would want to come to our church Christmas play and party later that evening.  To my surprise (although I shouldn't be surprised) she said absolutely!  So I made arrangements to get my aunt's van and picked her up.  She was ready to go in her bright red coat...you know she loves red!

She was excited to get out and see Christmas lights.  We were a bit disappointed that there weren't more lights along Route 40 from Marshall to the Bank Barn Road turn-off, but we did see a few.  Because of the timing, I had to cancel her meal tray at the nursing home but offered to take her somewhere for a sandwich.  She said no, she had eaten a good lunch and would just piece at the party later.  I called Jay and told him that Grandma and I were on our way, to fix up some crackers and deer sausage for her (I know she loves that stuff) and she could eat it on the way to church.

So we pick up the rest of my family and she is delighted to have the deer sausage and crackers and starts cramming them down like she hasn't eaten in weeks...and she's excited...so she's talking...and my kids are asking her questions...and I can tell she is starting to have problems.  She has a hiatal hernia and other throat issues so it is not uncommon for her to have trouble.  She must eat slow and in small bites and she should not be talking.  I told her at one point, "Grandma, you're going to have to quit talking while you're eating."  It was too late.

Madolyn leaned up in the front seat and said, "Grandma, it's okay, if you choke, I know what to do.  But first we'll have to pull over and you'll have to lie down in the road."  I thought I would lose it.  It was absolutely hysterical.  Grandma never even noticed the comment, I don't think, because she was focused on the food caught in her throat...but Jay and I were silently snickering.  Can't you just picture my 93.5 yr old Grandmother lying in the road in her new bright red jacket and my Madolyn working on her?!  (And then this would be when Jay pointed out to Madolyn that if she is trained in first aid and refuses to render care, Grandma could sue her.  Nice.)

Apparently the sixth graders have been learning about first aid and such in science the past two weeks.  Of course, my sixth grader tells me very little so this was the first I had heard of it.  Last night, Madolyn cut herself shaving in the shower.  She gets out and I come see if I need to help her.  She tells me, "It's okay, I know exactly what to do."  And she starts talking me through the steps of how to properly care for this cut.

Funny...But I'm thankful that she's learning something useful in school.  Sometimes our education is focused on stuff that is not practical to daily living.  At our house, these tips could come in very handy.  I'm hoping she'll learn animal care tips in Agricultural classes she'll have in the next few years.  We can only hope.

Bowling, caroling and pizza

I will praise you, Lord, with all my heart; I will tell of all the marvelous things you have done.  I will be filled with joy because of you. I will sing praises to your name, O Most High.  Psalm 9:1-2 (NLT)


When I was a youngin' I have fond memories of our church family caroling and then meeting back at the church for soup and sandwiches.  It was something we did annually for a while and then at some point, it stopped.  I can't tell you when or why.

A few years ago, I was thinking about those memories and decided I would try to organize a caroling party with our church family.  The date selected was the first Sunday in December.  A list of houses to carol was made and a sheet with the lyrics was passed out.  Because we have some shut-in's in Robinson, it seemed only logical that we would end the party with pizza at Monicals (my absolute favorite restaurant in the whole-wide world). 

This new tradition has continued.  We have caroled in the snow, ice, wind and rain.  I suppose we are either very dedicated to caroling to our church members or we will use any excuse whatsoever to eat at Monicals.  No comments, please :)

This year we (the high school/college youth) had already planned on going bowling on the first Sunday in December.  I didn't even think about it being the Sunday we carol when we picked that date.  So we incorporated the two events into one big day...I called it an all-day church extraveganza.  I also now realize I may often be a little too much of an over-achiever.  I'm all about cramming things in to make it work and boy, did we.  (Whoa, sometimes I wonder what I am thinking!)

We went ahead and invited all of the church family, young or old, to eat and go bowling with us before caroling.  We brought lunch meat, chips and snacks for lunch and ate immediately following worship...then headed straight to the bowling alley in Marshall where we bowled for two hours.  We have some church members living in Marshall and also some church friends in the nursing homes over there so that is where we began caroling.  Then we proceeded onto the big city of Martinsville and then headed south on our caroling adventure.

On the way to Robinson one of our youth had a little mishap with a curve, some loose gravel and her car.  It was quite scary for the kids in her car and the car in front of them.  (For me too as I turned around not knowing what I was going to find.)  I am thankful that God was watching out for those kids, no one was injured and the car was untouched.  Just a little snag in our day.  We persevered.

We ended our caroling trek at the home of one of our oldest members.  She will be turning 102 or 103, I believe, this next year.  She is just the sweetest little thing.  We have visited her house every year and she is always delighted to see us.  In addition to caroling her, we presented her with an award our CPWM gives out each year at Ingathering and I took her picture with the plaquerd.  She knew about receiving the award in November but was tickled to see her name and the special stone placed by it.

And as always, we finished our all day extraveganza at Monicals.  The food was delicious and the fellowship was fun.  It was certainly exhausting, but a very rewarding day.  Unfortunately, that was the beginning of our week of the sickies and by the end of that evening, Lane and I were feeling pretty crummy.  There were 46 of us this year and I can think of some that had to miss due to family issues.  We were told that one lady we caroled had never ever been caroled before!  Hearing that was an added bonus. 

Mark your calendars, the first Sunday of December 2012, we'll be gathering for our annual caroling/pizza event.  Join us for a fun day of fellowship and praising the birth of our Savior in song! 

Salvation Army

Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.
You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had.  Phillipians 2:4-5 (NLT)


'Tis the Season for the Salvation Army bellringers.  And this year we have our own little bellringer at the Wilhoit household.  My son, Lane, thought that Hank the Tank II needed a minature cowbell for his collar. Of course, Jay thought this too was a brilliant idea.  If you will recall, Hank the Tank II, though only six months of age, weighs nearly 70 lbs and is a humongous beast of a puppy.  He also is a Lab and is active a/k/a hyper.  Oh, and he's also in the house most of the time if we're home and he's not filthy or wet. 

The jingle-jangle of the cowbell on the collar of a 70 lb active (hyper) puppy is somewhat...well, annoying.  Even when he is drinking from his water dish, the bell is ringing non-stop.  There is very little he can do without the bell ringing.  We have an indoor-outdoor cat...Hank II loves to terrorize the Meepie so you can imagine the chasing going on...and the jingling of the bells...

So Jay started calling Hank II our very own little "Salvation Army."  It made me laugh...then my mom mentioned at lunch that the S.A. is actually having as good a year as last year and last year was a big year for them.  In the current economic state we're in, I think that is fantastic.  I don't know about you but most of the time when I see or hear them, I'm not super excited.  I'm sure several of you could agree with me that when we walk into a store and hear the bells ringing, a few thoughts come to mind..."Oh, brother, I'm going to have to give something or I'll look bad."  "Should I tell them I gave somewhere else already this morning?" " Do not make eye contact, do not make eye contact." "Man, I bet it stinks to have to stand here ringing this bell asking for donations and have people not make eye contact with you."

I have had all of these thoughts.  I have also never been a S.A. bellringer.  My friend's mother was this year and she took her grandsons to help her out.  Fortunately for them, they got to stand inside the store (out of the cold) and were only there a couple of hours.  They actually didn't think it was that bad.  I bet it's one of those things where your attitude can make or break a situation.  Those folks ringing the bells are trying to make a difference in the world.  They're doing something to try to help others, not themselves.

I'm thinking maybe next year I will sign myself and my kiddos up for a shift somewhere.  I've learned that the best way to understand something from a different point of view is to change my perspective.  Maybe if I'm standing there on the other side of the red metal Salvation Army container ringing the bell, I will appreciate it more...maybe I will stop having those not-so-nice thoughts when I hear the bells ringing...and maybe we should remove the cowbell from Hank the Tank II so I don't want to ring his little neck...

Where do I start?

Search for the Lord and for his strength; continually seek him.  1 Chronicles 16:11 (NLT)

I have mentioned my scrapbooking/photograph problem, but my house ,in general, is a cause of great distress.  It seems that no matter how much I do as far as picking up, de-cluttering, etc, it remains cluttered.  It's not disgustingly filthy or anything like that and I know, I know, it's lived in, I have young children, we're busy and I shouldn't concern myself with a perfect home.  I'm not concerned with a perfect home, but I would really like to walk downstairs to my basement and not want to scream, vomit or throw a tantrum.

And it's funny how the kids seems so unconcerned about this.  We have kids over all the time.  I will hear them head down to the basement and I'll think NOOOOOOOO, it is a disaster.  Then I hear that they're playing hide-and-go-seek, which means they're trying to find the nook and crannies down there...and they're even worse than the open areas.  Aahhhhhh. 

A week or two ago, Lane (so I'm told by Madolyn) dumped the little trash can out all over the floor.  Why, I have no clue.  Kids have been down there and no one seems to care that there is trash all over the basement floor, it's not messy, disgusting garbage, but just trash.  Why won't anyone throw it away?  There has been a box of paper on the top step to go downstairs for at least a month, no one has decided to take it on down with them.  There are blankets piled at the bottom of the stairs from when we clean in a frenzy...blankets are tossed down the stairs out of sight.  We walk over them to get up and down...we don't move them.  Sometimes I feel like I don't even know where to start!

When I finally do snap and we clean the basement out, together, because I refuse to do it by myself when 95% of the mess is from the kiddos, they act like they are in toyland heaven.  They find things they have long since forgotten about, or suddenly now is the moment that they really, really, really want to play the Wii - although it sits down there 12 months of the year, available for play on a moment's notice.  I have to continue to redirect them to the tasks at hand.

I get these big ideas early in the day that I will go home after work and hit the basement hard.  Then when I get home, I'll get something ready for supper, take someone here or there for this or that, do some laundry, eat supper, clean it up, etc...by that time, the last thing I want to do is go downstairs and begin cleaning!  I need some motivation.

On my way home from work, and after I had posted the other day about losing my focus, I decided that I was going to ask God to give me some direction, focus and the strength and energy to follow through with those plans.  I went home and worked like the Energizer Bunny until 10:30.  I did a whole slew of things, I even got Lane to help me work on the basement.  It's not completely clean, but I'm not going to cringe when kids come over and go downstairs.  I need to de-clutter down there and organize, but it's a process that will take longer than one evening after work.  I even carried up four boxes of steno notes from my freelance work '08-'10 to go to the attic.  Why were those still down there...almost two years later?  Ahhh.

It felt good.  I felt like I had accomplished many things.  It's so awesome to know that God helps us with the trivial things.  As you can tell by now, my life is stocked full of trivial, petty things, but they're real to me and I am so grateful that He cares enough about me to answer my pleas for strength and direction.

Sugar cookies, the good ones

For years, I have searched and searched to find a recipe for the really good sugar cookies.  Not the ones that get all flat and hard, but the nice soft, fluffy ones that you decorate.  I knew that the key was the cream of tartar somewhat, but never seemed to get the rest of it right.  Honestly, my favorite part of the sugar cookies is the sugar cookie dough.  Oh man, it makes my mouth water...

So last year, as I was continuing my search for the perfect sugar cookie recipe, I got a daily devotion delivered right to my E-mail inbox with the best sugar cookie recipe I have been able to find.  There is NOTHING healthy about them, they have a cup of butter, a cup of oil, two cups of powder and regular sugar, two eggs and four-and-a-half cups of flour.  Nope, not one thing healthy about them, but they are so good.   And depending on what you want to do with them, you can make them as thick or as thin as you want. 

I've made two batches of dough total.  Sunday I made the first batch and stuck it in the freezer.  I don't need the four dozen Christmas Sugar Cookies until Wednesday so I thought that was safe.  Not.  Jay got home and wanted us to make oatmeal cookies...no way, I already made sugar cookie dough today.  Oh, you did?!  The recipe says to make it and divide into two separate portions and then chill or freeze.  So my family and I ate one-half of the first batch of cookie dough, raw, right out of that container.  What is wrong with us?!  (But it was soooo good.)

Last night I made the second batch and then went ahead and baked all the cookies.  In this recipe they suggest just rolling them in balls and baking them, but I used cookie cutters this time and they came out just fine.  I experimented with them a little in thickness (I like them thick) and either way, they turned out great.  They are ready to ice and decorate.  This recipe calls for cream cheese in the icing and I think I'll try it.  (The youth kids won't know it has cream cheese in it, right?!) 

This morning when we woke up, Strike Wilhoit, our Elf on the Shelf, had gotten into the cookies and had sprinkles all over himself and the counter.  He had decorated his own gingerbread man cookie.  He's so ornery.  His orneriness made me think I needed to eat a cookie and so I did.  And even baked and without icing, they are delicious.

So here is a link to these yummy sugar cookies.  I know my friend I call Beth likes this recipe too.  Maybe it's nothing new or fancy, but it was what I was looking for!  I have a feeling you'll love them too.

http://www.shecooks.org/2010/12/sugar-cookies/

Santa Shoppe

...God loves a cheerful giver.  2 Corinthians 9:7 (NIV)

(NOTE:  Apparently this didn't get posted on Dec 2, 2011.  So I'm going to post it now.  oops.)
Today I get to do one of my favorite things of the year at my kids' school...help with the annual Santa Shoppe.  I'm not sure if I have attended every year since Madolyn started school, but I'm guessing I haven't missed more than once.  I always make a point to take off for it (and they always have tacos for lunch that day:).

The kids are given a paper and envelope about a week before to take home.  Their parents can send in some money and a list of people the child can buy for.  The PTO (Parent/Teacher Organization) provides hundreds of items very reasonably priced (all under $3 and many less than $1) for the kids to purchase as their very own gifts to give at Christmas.  The older kids help the kindergarten and first graders with their selections and calculating their totals.  The kids check out with the cashier and take their purchases to the wrapping station where parent volunteers wrap their gifts, the kids write out their labels and they then can take the presents home wrapped and ready to go under the Christmas tree.  (It is also nice that the PTO will make sure that kids who come without their envelope are given a couple dollars to spend.)

The first couple of years I worked at the wrapping station.  Let me tell you, you think you are prepared...but you are not.  I would take the advice of others and pre-cut small squares so I could be ready for the rush.  It is never enough.  It is amazing how the kids can finagle their money around to buy the most presents.  And if you want a lesson in creativity with wrapping, here you go.  There are items of all shapes and sizes.  It's nice when we have a bunch of gift bags to throw a stuffed animal in, but usually by the end of the day, those are gone.  Sometimes you have to wrap something so tiny, it will look like a scrap of wrapping paper...and that is when you attach a nice big bow to it!

I love how some kids think through and work it out so they can buy themselves one thing...or two things...or five things.  I love how some kids don't buy themselves anything at all and never give it a second's thought.  I love how some take their time looking over each and every item to try and figure out that perfect gift for their mom or dad or grandma.  It is always fun to hear their reasoning too..."Oh, Grandma will like this, she always needs a new wooden spoon."  Or "My dad drinks lots of coffee, he'll love this cup that says #1 Dad!"  (And I know from experience that sometimes Dad has two or three of these already at home.)

One time when I went in and looked the items over, I saw a few things I would actually be interested in so I made mention of it to the helpers...and I got these gingerbread men that you put in your brown sugar container to keep the sugar soft...AND THEY WORK.  I love those little guys.  But it also made me feel guilty because I was telling others to prod my children into buying me what I wanted and not what they wanted to give me.  That was the one and only time I did that.  Now, they pick whatever they think I will like and, of course, I'm delighted when I unwrap the gift...and watch them watch me or watch them watch others opening the special presents they picked out all by themselves.

I don't know who came up originally with the idea of the Santa Shoppe, but I am thankful they did.  It is truly a fun day of interacting with the kids in our community and gets me in the Christmas spirit.  These kids are giving gifts of little monetary value with big hearts which creates great sentimental value for their family... and that is what we should all do as we are giving this Christmas.  I have to remind myself of this as well...it's not the gift that matters, it's the heart with which you're giving that is imporant.

Focus

In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He shall direct your paths.  Proverbs 3:6 (NKJV)


Hocus Pocus, I need to focus.  I'm having serious issues focusing right now...I have a list in front of me of things I need to do today.  Last week was crazy, busy, sickness, etc...I'm still suffering (hahaha) from the lack of Diet Pepsi (only mentally) and I did have one yesterday afternoon.  It was good.

I don't know if it's the holidays or just recovering from a week of illness, but my mind is swirling to and fro.  I used to have problems with this big time.  I got over it for the most part.  Jay helped a lot with that.  He is so calm and just goes with the flow...never worries...and if he is worrying, I know it's major and I better be worrying too. 

I feel like I'm spinning my wheels a little bit at home.  I still have some Christmas presents to buy but that's not stressing me out.  I need to carry the Christmas tree decoration totes downstairs, but when I look at them piled up on the chair next to the tree, I think, hey, the tree will be coming down in two weeks...do I really want to take them to the basement?!  Of course I DO...but they're still there.

Hank the Tank made a mess of my curtains that were on the patio door...I haven't bought new ones yet or tried to have the old ones fixed up.  They're still sitting in a bag on top of my dryer...that was at least four weeks ago.

I am no closer to getting Christmas Cards done than I was six months ago.  Seriously.  They may be Happy 2012 cards by the time I get around to it.

I just went to my drawer for my good ole afternoon snack, yummy Hostess 100 calorie chocolate cupcakes. Apparently I ate the last one sometime last week in that fog.  Bummer.

Sometimes I take one week at a time, sometimes it's one day at a time, and sometimes I take one section of the day at a time (before work, work and after work).  Right now I'm going to have to be satisfied with one section of the day, I think.

There's nothing too overwhelming going on in my life, nothing that I'm sad about or overly concerned about...I'm just out of focus.  I probably need to re-focus my thoughts...on something important, something that will really whip me into shape, something that has stood the test of time, something solid as a rock, something that matters when all else fails, something that will guide me.  Maybe I just need to do what the Good Book instructs, acknowledge him in ALL ways, and I'll find my path...

The Silver Lining

No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.  1 Corinthians 10:13 (NIV)
There's always a silver lining, isn't there?  You see someone else's situation and realize yours is not so bad.  You watch the sufferings of a loved one and are reminded that there are things worse than death.  You are late coming back from lunch because of traffic and realize that hold-up saved you from a serious accident. You lose your job unexpectedly but end up finding one that better suits you.  Or you end up with strep throat and conquer an addiction, one that you were secretly hoping to cut loose.  That is what happened to me this week.

Last weekend, after a great weekend, I'll have to write about later, I developed a sore throat.  Uh-oh.  I have had strep throat one time and it was only a couple years ago.  I never understood it until I had it.  And I'm not even saying I've had it as bad as others.  I only know this, my throat felt like there were shards of glass in it and that someone must have started a bonfire down there and kept it burning 24/7 for several days.  Nights were the worst because my throat would get dry, the Tylenol or Motrin would wear off and I would wake up...and then not be able to get back to sleep (which is often a problem for me anyway).  Coughing up blood from my throat and the roof of my mouth beginning to hurt was the final straw.

Everything that went in my mouth felt like hot lava sliding down my throat but it didn't stop me a whole lot.  I know most people lose weight in this circumstance, not me, I continue to eat because I feel like I deserve it and the opposite happens.  By Monday, I decided that I could not handle the burning sensation from my gas station fountain Diet Pepsi in the 32 oz Styrofoam cup and I have not had one since Saturday...that is my little silver lining.

I know it may sound like I'm making light of things, I'm not.  I am quite serious.  Even though my addiction to the 32 ounces of sweet fountain Diet Pepsi sounds silly and trivial, it had kinda taken control over me and I didn't like it at all. I would joke and make lots of fun about it, but deep inside I knew it was completely ridiculous.  It had a hold on me both mentally and physically.  I had decided a couple weeks ago that I really, really wanted to try to give up the daily 32 oz fountain D.P. but wasn't quite ready to take the plunge.  I kept thinking about it and coming up with plans so as not to develop the lack-of-caffeine-headache.  I didn't want to give up the D.P. entirely, I just wanted to become less dependent upon it...because literally on a Saturday or Sunday if I didn't have it by 9:00, I would start getting that nasty headache and nothing would satisfy it.  I thought a lot about giving it up, but that's where it ended.

So my guess is that God decided I needed a little push so-to-speak and it came via hot burning flesh in my throat...and now that I'm actually feeling better physically, I'm super stoked that I have not had my pop since Saturday morning and I live to tell about it.  I did have some D.P. at Monical's on Sunday evening, but that is different.  I'm not giving up pop forever, I'm just going to cut back, way back and see what happens.  Hopefully, I'll notice something, anything, in a few weeks in how I feel or sleep or even sugar cravings because I've read that the Diet drinks just make you crave sweets.  I know that D.P. has no nutritional value whatsoever and that it has so many chemicals in it, it cannot be good for my body.

Every cloud has its silver lining and this week, even though both my kids were sick, I was sick, and it was a really bad week at work to be sick (and still have to work), I am choosing to embrace the silver lining.  God knew that I needed a little kick in the pants to get this whole free-from-the-D.P.-process going so he provided a way for me to endure it...the withdrawals were substituted by the scorching throat.  I didn't have time to focus on an annoying headache!! 

I thank God that he helped me break free from my addiction, as petty as it was.  Jay wants me to start drinking coffee and maybe I will, but maybe I'll try de-caf!  Sometimes God will use whatever he has to in order for us to find the silver lining because there always is one...we just have to be willing to look for it.

It is THAT bad but it could be worse

You know it's bad when this blogger hasn't had a 32 oz Marty Mart fountain Diet Pepsi since Saturday morning.  No joke.  I can't seem to get an appointment anywhere, no one is as concerned about my throat as I am...I suppose one can't die from a sore throat, right?  I will carry on...we have a two-and-a-half day bench trial starting today at 1:15 and a full morning of court.  Good times...

The Sickies

My apologies to my fans (if anyone out there is left) the ickies won't leave us...my kids are still at home today...I came to work with the ickies because I'm so dedicated (hahaha).  So I'm just going to keep this short.  I'm hoping we recover very soon.  Lane is the sweetest when he's sick though, which is just awful, but he's so stinkin' cute.  He wants to love and cuddle...which he likes to do anyway, but more so when he's sickly.  Most of the time with Madolyn she acts likes she's fine, you threaten to send her to school and she goes and pukes...or she'll spend the next hour glued to the toilet seat. 

My kids do run fevers and then they get delirious.  The other night Lane was sleeping with me and he asked me if I could see the people running by so fast...sorry, fella, you are dreaming.  He asked me again, serious as could be.  Nope.  Finally he said, Oh, I must be dreaming...his little body was burning up and all sweaty. 

I never ran fevers when I was little, or at least not very often so I implemented Plan B.  The school would not send you home unless you a) had a fever or b) puked.  I became a puker....or at least that's what I attribute my pukiness to.  The school forced me to literally get sick so I could be sent home because I may have felt lousy, just as lousy as anyone with a 102.5 temperature, but by george, I wasn't about to get sent home without the appropriate thermometer reading and it wouldn't budge.  I'm sure the janitor just loved me...oh yeah, and the bus driver...because I did that number on the bus a few times too.

I guess it has stuck with me into adulthood too...re: my pregnancies.  I had a horrible stomach flu last year too, actually almost exactly a year ago...because I had to come to work anyway, sick and all, literally, and work for a couple hours.  Jay drove me that day because I could barely function and it had snowed...that is also the day that our beloved Hank the Tank I was killed. R.I.P.  I'm thinking we'll shut Hank the Tank II in the barn stall or something on Monday...

Actually Dec 12, 2000 is also when we had to put down our first born (puppy) Gunner, the greatest dog that ever lived (and his birthday was actually that same day, how depressing, huh).  And it's my parents wedding anniversary.  Wow, a lot of disasters have happened around the 12th of December, huh?  ha ha  Pearl Harbor was a year ago this week.  Wait a second, do I have a fever?  What was I even talking about?  I am rambling...I think I need to go home.

Strike

After a busy weekend and running into some nasty germs, we are under the weather.  Hope you had a great weekend...I did...it just did us in.  We did get the tree up and it is...uh...lovely...with colored lights and everything else mismatching and perfectly impositioned (if that's the correct term).  I'm living with it...I will survive...I told the kids that I may do my own little tree, and sorry, they cannot touch it...is that awful? 

Thanks to some friends, we have discovered the adventures of the Elf on the Shelf.  He made his appearance last night at bedtime.  The kids named him Strike...because we had been bowling.  I asked if there was something that we had done during the day that would help them name the Elf...and we had been bowling so Strike Wilhoit it is.  I had heard of the Elf on the Shelf, but didn't realize what it was all about.  It is a fun, fun idea.  I urge you to seek it out and join in.  I will say I had a hard time finding one locally...I eventually ordered one and my mother-in-law found one in Champaign so I had her buy it as well.  My nephew is getting one for his birthday this week!  (They run about $30 for the storybook and elf.)

So you read the storybook to your kiddos, name your Elf and the fun begins.  Every night while the kiddos are asleep, the Elf on the Shelf goes back to the North Pole to report to St. Nick your behavior (good or bad) and then appears every morning somewhere different in the house.  Sometimes the Elf is mischievous and he makes messes or does something silly when he comes back in the morning.  This morning Strike's first act of naughtiness was turning our milk in the fridge green.  He is so silly.  Lane is eating this up.  Madolyn thinks it's cute too.

I think there are blogs and websites that have suggested activities for your Elf.  I hope to look those up soon.  Right now I'm getting ideas from our friends, who are very creative, by the way.  An Elf at our friends' house made snow angels in the flour on the countertop, and at the other friends' house, their Elf decorated their Christmas tree in underwear and was hiding in a pair of undies!!

It is very important that only adults touch the Elf.  He appears after Thanksgiving and disappears on Christmas Eve...St. Nick takes him back to the North Pole with him.  It is such a cute idea.  Why can't I think of stuff like this?!  

Christmas Tree plan

If you recall from an earlier rant about rushing into Christmas, I put my tree away last year, fully decorated with a sheet covering it.   By December 26, I'm so ready for the tree to come down...but I don't really want to put forth the effort it takes to properly put the decorations away...I'm so lazy sometimes.

This year my plan (I've always got them, you know) is to start early (still haven't started) and go through all of my Christmas stuff and weed out the things I no longer use and give them to the second-hand store so that someone else could enjoy them.  Most of the time it's not that there's something wrong with them, I am just ready for something new (spoiled, oh yeah).  My kids enjoy decorating the tree so I  was thinking I must force myself to undecorate it and let them put the ornaments on (then when they're asleep or gone, I will re-arrange them to be just right because at times I'm OCD...I know that is so wrong).

Every year we say we're going to buy a "real" tree, you know, take the kids out like the Griswalds and let the kids pick one and do that whole experience.  Maybe this is the year.  We usually have a tree upstairs and downstairs...because Santa comes down the firewood drop in the garage to get in the basement.  Our chimney is much too small for a roly-poly Santa.  Meepie is too old to bother the tree, I think...he used to, that stinker.  And Little Black Sambo was notorious for knocking the ornaments off the bottom of the tree.  (RIP, Little Black Sambo).  I have no earthly idea how bad Hank the Tank II is going to be with a tree, ornaments and presents.  I'm goingbnm j (to kill him he just stepped on my keyboard!)  What I was saying is that I'm going to pretend he will leave it alone.

I've asked my kids a couple of times in the past few days if they want a real tree.  Lane says "I like our fake one."  (Awesome, but somewhat disappointing.)  Madolyn didn't really have an opinion...which is amazing.  Lane and Madolyn both agreed they wanted colored lights and not just that plain white ones (which I love).  So I'm starting to think that I will resurrect the fake and fully-decorated tree from the basement, undecorate it, put colored lights on it (which I'll have to buy, ugh) and let the kids have 100% control over the decorating of it.  I will then keep my mouth SHUT tight and my hands in my pocket so as not to do what I said I would most likely do above if it was "my" usual tree.  I suppose I can have a tree that is perfect and coordinated after my kids are grown, right?!

How sad is it that they are 7 and 11 and I'm just now allowing this to happen?!  What is wrong with me?  Do not answer that...I'm still learning.  This weekend we will implement our Christmas tree plan.

Not my thing

Disclaimer: If you are currently a breast feeder, or have ever been a breast feeder, and loved it...please just stop reading right now.  My intention is not to make anyone mad...

Breastfeeding is just not my thing.  I know that God created certain parts of our bodies for certain functions.  I realize that the natural and healthy thing is to breastfeed your child.  I know that all the stuff in that stuff is good for your baby.  I know that studies prove that your child will be healthier and smarter than mine.  And it is still not my thing.  I hated breastfeeding and every single thing about it.

I'm the frugal bugle (Jay made that up, haha).  When we were preparing to have Madolyn, we decided that, of course, I would be breastfeeding because it's better for the baby, better for mama to lose the weight, it was convenient (yeah, right) and it was FREE...which I love.  I even used my fair money that year to buy the Cadillac model breastpump.  I was so ready for this...not.

I won't get into too many gory details, but I struggled from the start.  I had already made up my mind that I would be pumping almost exclusively.  I was not comfortable feeding the baby out and in front of people and I was not about to let others lose out on feeding the baby (i.e. you can feed baby anytime anywhere, daddio, grandmas, friends, family).  I would pump and store the goods.  It was rough to say the least.  After we had been home about two days, Jay made an emergency run to Vincennes Wal-Mart (thank God for 24-hour Super Wal-Marts at that time) for some formula.  I didn't have a can of formula on hand, big mistake.  We were convinced that I was starving our daughter.

Turns out I sort of was.  My body didn't cooperate as it should - now, there's a shocker.  The breast-feeding Nazi (aka lactation specialist) actually made a house-call.  Yikes.  You talk about pressure...I wish someone would tell those BFNs that they need to lighten up on the mothers who aren't so into the natural thing because maybe they're more worried about being a new mother and that maybe it isn't so natural for everyone!  (There is a reason somewhere down the line formula was invented.)  It was a total nightmare...but I forged ahead for seven very long weeks because I wanted my daughter to be healthy and smart and I liked saving the money.  Yes, I could do this...it's natural and women all over the world do this.  I can do it...and the BFN said I had to.

Except I absolutely hated it with every fiber of my being.  It didn't get to the point that I was depressed or unhappy or resenting Madolyn or anything, but I absolutely dreaded the whole process.  I went back to work after six weeks and decided I would dry up.  It could not continue while I was working full-time...there was just NO way I was going to pump at work...nope, not happening.  Again, quite a learning experience for this first-time mom.  Cold turkey may be the way to go for some, but it was not the smart choice for me.

Someone suggested cabbage leaves...so I bought cabbage and put the large leaves inside my bra.  Apparently they are supposed to soothe the achiness and draw out the...whatever.  I remember that I could barely raise my arms my chest hurt so stinkin' bad...My first week back was a jury trial too...it was a very painful experience, but fortunately there wasn't any hand raising involved.  And again, thank you, God, for sports bras that suck the life out of you.

I survived.  Eventually, I dried up.  But the scars remain forever (ha, I had to say that!).  Forward ahead to the birth of our son.  I decided to try it again for at least the six weeks I was at home with him.  Again, same plan with the pumping (except there were cans of formula on hand).  One issue not thought of...the reaction of my very strong-willed three-and-a-half-year-old daughter.  She didn't care for it anymore than I did.  Constantly she would ask me what I was doing and why.  It upset her.  It upset me.  It was terrible.

Finally, one very early morning I was sitting in the rocking chair feeding Lane and I decided I had had enough.  He had been born on Monday, it was Saturday, I was done.  The feelings that washed over me are hard to explain, but it was like a huge relief was lifted from my shoulders at that moment.  Jay was fine with it.  He never pressured me to do it anyway.  I just felt like if I didn't try with Lane, I would be a bad mother.  How could I give one the good stuff and not give it to the other?  I tried.  It wasn't worth it for me.  I know that sounds terrible.

When one of my friends had her baby, I told her that if she had questions with the breastfeeding thing, just to ask.  I would try very hard to help her.  She ended up hating it too.  We decided that from then on, we would just tell others (if asked) if you want to know how great it is, call this person.  If you want to hear how awful it is, call us.

The good news:  My kids were very healthy babies and still are.  They're pretty smart too.  I'm sure there is truth to the studies about breastmilk being best for babies, but my kids turned out okay...so did I...I was 100% formula fed 36.5 yrs ago.  I'm not opposed to or against breastfeeding at all.  If you are into it, enjoy it, believe it is what you need to do, kudos to you.  It was just not my thing.

MSB

Growing up this was a common acronym around our household...MSB...and technically it stood for Mazon State Bank.  My grandparents lived in a little town up north called Mazon.  This is actually a famous town because it is where my parents met...aaawww, right?  My dad was a coach at the high school where my grandfather was the superintendent and he met the boss' daughter...the rest is history.

But back to the acronym.  One year when I was little I got a fuzzy brown teddy bear from my grandparents or someone as a gift.  He was so soft and cuddly.  He had on a bright orange t-shirt with "MSB" in black lettering on the front.  Of course, I assumed that the letters stood for "Marvelous Sarah Beth."  How neat that Grandpa's bank (The Mazon State Bank) was selling teddy bears named after me, huh?

This morning before work my mom asked me to stop by her house to pick up something I would need to do for her today...I had Lane run up to the house to retrieve it as I put our trash in the shed.  I didn't look at it right away, but when I got to work and pulled the envelope out of my purse, mom had written "MSB Marvelous Sarah Beth" across the front.  Funny, I hadn't thought about that for years.  It's one of those things that I'm surprised she remembered...but she is my mom after all and I am pretty marvelous...

A Cheerleader FOR LIFE, I'm afraid

Dear brothers and sisters, I close my letter with these last words: Be joyful. Grow to maturity. Encourage each other. Live in harmony and peace. Then the God of love and peace will be with you.  2 Corinthians 13:11 (NLT)


Wow, last week we decided to go see the high school boys basketball team play in a Thanksgiving tournament.  I haven't been to one game in two years...and now I'm at a loss for what I'm supposed to do...

I cannot sit there and watch the game...quietly...without standing...without yelling...cheering...clapping... stomping my feet...waving my arms.  My daughter was embarrassed.  I can remember being embarrassed when I have been next to my mom who was doing all of the above as well.  By the time the game was over, I was hot, shaking and I thought my head might explode.  I do have a cold/sinus thing right now, but most of it was just the stress.

What in the world am I going to do when my kids are out there?  Ahhh.  I cannot go and act like a total fool, my kids will hate me...but I cannot contain myself, it is just too much.  I realize it is in my genes.  There are coaches on all corners and we are all sports nuts.  You should see my mom watch a Cardinals game.  Holy Cow.  It is not safe.

I love going to games, I love cheering and encouraging the kids.  I wouldn't want another person yelling not-so-nice things at my child so I draw the line there. I try very hard to not say anything specific to a player, coach or ref that is not encouraging.  Of course, what I may consider encouragement, a ref may not find very encouraging:)  I can't stand the thought of not going because I cannot behave, but something is going to have to give before Lane starts playing.  I'm not sure I will survive it game after game.  I must get it together and come up with a plan and soon...Volleyball is starting!

My other problem is that I do have eight years of cheerleader in me.  I loved being a cheerleader.  I am an encourager at heart and I love to cheer people on.  I was getting frustrated with our cheerleaders because they weren't very peppy.  And of course, my thoughts were that they weren't doing their job, why aren't they cheering more, I can't even hear them, etc...well, then I looked around and but for Jay, The Quack, myself and two fellas in front of us, everyone else sat stone-faced.  If I was cheering and looking up at our very solemn and sober crowd, I may lose enthusiasm too.  I guess I am just not used to it.

I went over and talked to the coach's wife who did not grow up here.  She said something along the lines of, I keep telling my husband that you guys went to school during the "good" times when the teams won and were competitive all the time.  The crowd was fired up.   People were excited.  These kids don't know what that's like.  Oh my, I had never thought about it that way.  Maybe this crowd needs a little lesson, huh? 

Last year when my nieces' basketball team was playing at state, which is a huge accomplishment for our little school, I ended up leading the crowd in cheers...I was like a wildwoman...and if myself and one other mom that was there didn't do anything, everyone just sat there staring.  Wow...the other crowd was crazy wild, they were excited.  Our folks just sat there.  How can this be?  I would never have survived as a cheerleader with a crowd this sober and depressing.

I compare this to church attendees.  I lead the opening services before Sunday School.  There are some mornings when I am standing up front looking out at my church family and I could swear we were attending a funeral.  People, if we look like this in our safe place of worship, why, oh why would anyone want to join us?  Think of people in other countries who are forbidden to worship God...what would they think/see when they walked in our churches?  People excited and grateful to be in the Lord's house or a bunch of people who feel obligated to come because it is the right thing to do?  It would shock them to know we are not jumping out of our skin with excitement and thankfulness because we have the freedom to worship and praise and fellowship without serious consequences...something they can only dream of.  What a gift we take for granted.

I think I'll be a cheerleader for life.  I'm probably that person you want to slap sometimes.  I get it.  And believe me, I'm not always happy and cheerful...just ask Jay or my kiddos.  Every now and then, I have a bad day...it happens, but I move on and try to put it behind me.  Being cheerful and encouraging someone just may be what brings another person out of a funk that day.  Haven't you had that experience before?  You're having the worst day or terrible 'luck' and then someone says or does the nicest thing...it was just what you needed at that moment. 

I know that everyone has different talents and gifts.  Sometimes I wish God would've given me the gift of a beautiful singing voice because I love, love, love to sing and it's just not pretty.  Instead he has given me the gift of cheering and encouraging (or so I've been told).  I'll probably be a cheerleader for life as a Bluestreak and most importantly as a Christian...but I have got to try to mold those two together at ballgames. (You know like when I'm coming unglued and look down at the bench and see three of my youth kids staring at me in shock.) 

I have a little while to pull it together, to come up with some sort of technique for controlling my mouth and behavior at a ball game.  My coworker suggested I videotape the games, then when I hear myself, I'll be embarrassed...there's an idea.  The kids and I went to another game last week and I began the game with a bag of popcorn.  There were a few times that I was spewing popcorn and choking from trying to eat and yell, it worked pretty well until the bag was empty.  Looks like I may be eating a lot of popcorn in the future...and perhaps teaching the crowd a thing or two about enthusiasm...and maybe I'll start doing cheers at church to get us fired up...and maybe we'll all start acting like we're happy to be there and encourage others...

April 12, 2004

I remember it like it was yesterday.  I was in my ninth month of pregnancy with the little man.  Madolyn was just a few months shy of turning four.  My mother watched her while we worked.  It was a Monday afternoon and I had a doctor's appointment.  I left work and went to the doctor...just like with Madolyn, he assured me I was progressing well and could go at about any time.  I wasn't due until the end of April.

I call and find out that mom, dad and Madolyn were at my grandma's house along with two of my nieces.   So I headed straight from the doctor's office to my grandma's house.  I can remember what I was wearing, my long maternity gray skirt, pantyhose (yes, I know), heels and a blouse.  I was as big as a house, of course.  I arrive and everyone was in the living room.  I filled them in on the status of the little guy and we visited for a bit. 

I don't remember exactly what the girls had been doing, but I'm sure that at least Madolyn was a little hyper, she was, after all, at that age.  My nieces that were there were five and six.  Quite a trio there, if you know what I mean.  Madolyn sorta skipped or ran through the living room and was getting ready to jump over this couch pillow when her foot caught the edge of the pillow and the chaos began.  She fell straight down and smacked her forehead into the very solid handmade oak entertainment center in my grandma's living room.  She hit is so perfectly, it was like a knife sliced just above her eye.  It didn't take two seconds for us to spring into action.  Even in my nine-month-about-to-pop glory, I was on it.  I scooped Mad up and ran her to the bathroom.  Here's where I fell apart.  Thankfully, my mama was there so I didn't have to be the strong one...and I was nowhere near the strong one.

When I saw my sweet daughter's forehead split and her eye drooping, I thought I would just die.  Blood was pouring out (you know how a head bleeds) and her little eye was hanging low because her forehead just above that was exposed to the bone.  You could see it.  It was as if a knife had made a perfect cut above her eye.  We immediately applied pressure with a towel and the Quackdaddy called 911 for an ambulance.  We were in panic mode and not sure what to do or how serious it really was.  I just remember standing in my grandma's bathroom holding onto that towel afraid to move...in a total panic.  Again, my mom was there so I didn't have to be the strong one.

The Quack and the 911 operator is a whole separate story in and of itself.  I remember hearing my dad shout at them through the phone about coming and coming fast.  I know it wasn't really life threatening (now), but at the time we were all just freaked out.  My dad included.  Again, those 911 folks (one Jay's related to) has to just cringe when they see any calls from my family come through.

The ambulance came and loaded up the little stinky (that was her nickname) and I rode along.  That girl totally took advantage of the opportunity and soaked it all in.  She was quizzing everyone and everything.  Calm as could be.  It was hilarious.  She asked the driver if he could stop hitting so many bumps.  It is quite bumpy in the back of an ambulance.  Just by looking at them you can tell they were not made for smooth riding.  We made the decision to go to Robinson because a) Jay was there working and b) that is where I would deliver Lane ,and if I would happen to go into labor, it would be awfully handy.  We should've went with plan c...

Robinson hospital was not equipped to deal with Madolyn's injury so they told us to put her in the car and take her elsewhere.  L-O-V-E-L-Y.  But that is what we did.  We drove to Terre Haute and headed for emergency room #2.  They took a look and decided it needed a surgical team and called one in.  It was pretty late by the time the team all arrived.  The surgeon was also a plastic surgeon so he was going to try to repair her with as little scar as possible. 

I will never forget the surgeon coming out to talk to us before he took Madolyn in for surgery and saying "After speaking with your daughter, we have determined she is not a candidate for stitches."  We laughed.  Wow, it only took you five minutes to figure that one out, huh?  Super glue it is.  Amazing.  They ended up putting dissolvable stitches inside the wound to close it up and then super-gluing the outside portion.  Everything was gonna be okay.

It was a very long night for this about-to-pop-prego woman in her pantyhose, high heels and skirt.  I think I did finally ditch the pantyhose.  (Honestly pregnancy and pantyhose do not go together, ever.  What was I thinking and who was I trying to impress?)  Madolyn has a pretty good scar above her eye.  In the summer it is pretty noticeable when she gets hot because it turns bright pink.  Fortunately, we have thick bushy eyebrows, and when and if she ever chooses to have bangs again, they will cover it up nicely.  I'm not sure who was more traumatized by this event...the stinky or her big fat mama.  Thankfully, Lane decided to wait one week and let me recover:)

Just a few things I'm thankful for...

Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.  1 Thessalonians 5:18 (NLT)

You know there is just no way we could ever list everything we have to be thankful for.  It is literally infinite.  I am dedicating this post to everything I can think of that I am thankful for.  It may be a little crazy and a little jumbled.  Here goes.

God, the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, His great sacrifice for little 'ole me, the Bible, the body, freedom of religion.

My husband and best friend, his job, a good father to our kids, my children and their friends.  My health and the health of our entire family.  The family members that are no longer here but impacted my life and others around me.

Freedom of speech, right to vote, an almost-never-ending-supply of food, clothes, safe and dependable transportation, a home with four walls and a non-leaking roof, carpet and floors, doors and windows, an attached garage, automatic garage door opener, air conditioning, heat, electricity, clean water (and plenty of it), our schools, teachers, children, hospitals, doctors, nurses, law enforcement, farmers, utility workers, veterinarians (you think I'm kidding, but I'm not), insurance (even though it's sometimes a scam), writers, books, joy, skills and talents, laughter, youth groups and the lessons they teach ME, coworkers (even the tough ones because they, too, have a purpose), cats, dogs (even chewing puppies), apples, teeth, eyes that can see, ears that can hear, a nose that can smell and the ability to touch and feel, reading glasses, hearing aids.

Parents that are Christians, in-laws that are Christians, a husband who is a Christian, kids who love Christ, lots of family and friends who are Christians, coworkers who are Christians, teachers who are Christians, school administrators who are Christians, my kids' friends who are Christians, politicians who are Christians, doctors who are Christians (because they believe in the power of prayer over medicine at times), a wonderful church family and youth group, great cooks, a beautiful church building to freely praise and worship in, CPWM, Christian radio stations, Christian musicians and songwriters, the radio in my car that works and can play this music, our church praise band, church van, the Ark, the mance, elevators.

The 4H program, our fair and fairgrounds, our community and little town, Moonshine store, Elevate, safety, the lack of congested traffic and stop lacks in my world, grocery stores, I hate to admit it, but Wal-Mart, the nursing homes and staff, my Grandma Great, wheelchairs, prosthetic limbs, therapists and rehab centers, people willing to work on holidays, nights and weekends, scientists and laboratories, medications, ambulance workers, peers, a steady dependable job, court reporters, awesome steno machines, computers, lawyers (sometimes), judges (most of the time), government, jails and prisons, correctional officers, the right to bear arms (yes, I believe in safe gun ownership), gas stations and gas, meat lockers, telephone, cellular phones, Facebook (It's a good tool at times), cable, internet, swimming pools, barns, fence (when it works), horses, cows, pigs, chickens, goats, fish, deer, public school, playgrounds, fishing poles, squirrels (I love watching them), trees, bushes, flowers, fruit, vegetables, bicycles, my feet that get me around, my arms, my fingers and toes that keep my balance.

Old friends, new friends, childhood friends, dependable friends, trusting friends, honest friends, goofy friends, lifetime friends, simple friends, can't-believe-we're-friends friends, cousins, aunts, uncles, in-laws, nieces, nephews, grandparents, great grandparents.

Space heaters, diet Pepsi, Styrofoam cups, ice, coats and sweaters, socks, boots, my pillow, blankets and flannel sheets, wood stoves, chainsaw, hot water heater, mailbox, light bulbs, games, cards, crayons, markers, soap, deodorant, makeup, toothpaste and toothbrush, perfume, Excedrin, shovels, tractors, gravel, rocks, adoptions, foster parents, foster homes, shelters, safe houses, orphanages, missionaries, DCFS workers, padded seats, toilets and toilet paper, kleenex, paper towels, microwave, toaster, oven, freezer, refrigerator, Zip-lock bags, silverware and knives, matches, yummy-smelling candles, pens and pencils, paper, money, newspapers, musical instruments, piano, sheet music, CD's.

I could go on for days if I tried.  I probably missed some of the most basic things.  It's so funny when someone says "What are you thankful for?" and you freeze, like you have to come up with this perfect answer or someone will think less of you.  If I don't say my kids, someone will think I'm a bad mom.  If I don't say Jesus, I'm not a good Christian.  Kids will wait for the first one to answer and then repeat a variation of that answer over and over.  Oh yeah, I'll say family because it sounds good.  Too funny.  We could never run out of things to be thankful for, great or small.   Be thankful in ALL circumstances, that is what He asks of us. 

Prayers that you and your family will have a wonderful, safe and blessed Thanksgiving!

Black Friday

Are you ready for Black Friday?  I think this is one of those things you either care about or you don't want anything at all to do with it.  Jay has some relatives that have camped out in their van in the parking lot all night before.  I'm not quite that dedicated...or nuts.  I am on the fence, however.  I have went out shopping on B.F. before and survived.  I have stayed home and survived...even survived the fact that I didn't save that extra two bucks and missed a bargain!

The key is this, you must say a huge prayer for patience, safety, common sense and kindness and then venture out knowing that people are going to be silly stupid and unkind.  The last time I went, I had no pressures, no major purchases I HAD to make and I just enjoyed myself.  I laughed at some, was amazed at others and just went with it.  I expected lines and rude people and I got what I bargained for.  I had fun finding some deals and eating lunch with a couple friends.  It was exhausting but an enjoyable experience.

One time a few years ago before we had the super Wal-Mart, I got up about 5:20, slipped on some decent crud clothes and headed to our WM in the next town.  It is about a 25-minute drive, one-way.  I stood in line for a few minutes until 6:00 a.m. came, went in, purchased the camera I wanted for someone and was back in bed by 6:30 a.m.  It was crazy.  That is what I call Black Friday shopping...ha.

I may venture over to my local Wal-Mart sometime Friday morning.  I'm still kinda up in the air about it.  I would love to have the little Shark steam mop for my kitchen.  Hank the precious Tank has destroyed my dust mop, my broom and my sponge mop.  I will have to keep this under lock and key obviously, but I think I need it, don't you?  It is only $38 on Friday too...you know, I have no idea how much it is otherwise, maybe I should check that out.
I saw on the news this morning that several Target workers were staging a protest because they don't want to open on Thanksgiving night at 10pm.  Oh my goodness.  Now I see that is happening everywhere, stores are opening up on Thanksgiving night!  What is wrong with people?  We are more concerned about shopping than spending time with our families.  I realize some of you would rather do anything but spend time with your family, but seriously.  We are out and about every day.  Would it kill us to sacrifice one day to our family?  Yikes. 

Shamefully, I must admit that one Thanksgiving we were sitting at my grandma's and we decided to run to K-Mart just for.  Another year the guys decided they wanted some meat slicer from Gander Mtn in T.H. that was crazy on sale, and then once they got there, it was a scam basically.   I can't say I'll never go again on Thanksgiving and I can't say I'll never go out on Black Friday.  It is kinda sad though that retailers are giving into our wants and forcing workers to come in to work.  Before we know it, it will be Black Thursday, then Wednesday, then Tuesday, then Monday...

All you Black Friday shoppers, Go get 'em...just remember my suggested prayer above!!!  Have fun.