Train 'em Up Early

I don't know if all families have traditions or traits unique to them that may be weird to others, but I suspect that they do. My family loves to give back rubs. Well, actually we all just love to get them and you usually have to do some sort of reciprocal action if you want the goods, so we therefore give in order to receive. This has gone on as long as I can remember. In fact, I can't imagine that we have ever NOT given rubs. My sister in law has even joined the ranks by giving my infant son baby massage.


Let me make a note here. My husband does not give shoulder rubs. I don't know how I ended up marrying a man who refuses to rub unless I'm crying in pain. Granted, he has innumerable wonderful qualities, and I suppose I can trade off getting no rubs for being a great daddy and a kind and giving husband. But still - really no rubs, not even with an ulterior motive. He claims that it makes his hands hurt. This must be a lie. Chris is a drummer and has played drums since middle school. He has muscular forearms and broad shoulders. There's no way his hands hurt.


So we just moved into our own house after living with my folks for a year. There's a long and wonderful story to why we did that, which I'll post another time. One amazing part of living with them, despite the cramped living quarters and slight lack of privacy was that Mom and I could trade rubs as often as we pleased. I've never been so relaxed. Almost every night for a year, we have rubbed our backs into a near-nirvana state.


Add to this my two year old, who of course wants to be a part of everything I do. She noticed that mommy was enjoying her shoulder rubs, so she decided that she needed to be in on the action. My husband says I've ruined her. I say I'm just training her up early. Notice in the picture below that she's giving her Ernie doll a rub, also.



It may take 10 years, but I'll have my nightly shoulder rub again someday.

Confession and Resolve

I have an embarrassing confession to make. I, a preacher's kid, Bible school graduate, sometime worship leader, have never read ALL the way through the Bible. I'm not sure how they let anyone graduate from Bible School without ensuring that this has happened, but sadly, it's true. That's not to say I haven't read the Bible. I have. I do. But all the way through? Every word? Nope.

Last Sunday, sitting in church, my pastor (my dad) was speaking on knowing the difference between when to make a stand as a believer, and when to turn the other cheek. I could go in to more detail and try to explain all of it, but that would miss the point of this post. Essentially, he said, we have to turn to the Word and get discernment from the Holy Spirit to know what to do, and that you can't know, unless you know what the Word of God says. Enter conviction. How can I truly walk in God's Will, if I'm not filled with the Word? I desire to be one of those people who have a scripture come to mind in situations that need Godly Wisdom or comfort. I don't want to just operate on the wisdom of the world, or on my own soulish inclinations. I have a Psychology degree. It's easy enough to do. What I need to have is a Godly perspective as I walk out this life parenting and being a wife and friend.

So here is my resolve. This year, I will read my Bible all the way through. I am not resolving to have an extended quiet time each day. I am not resolving to increase my prayer life. In the past, I have tried to do this and I lose track as my life becomes busy and and my efforts are sidelined. No, I am simply resolving to READ. Let the Word soak into my spirit. I'm on day two. Yes, I realize that it's January 20th. I'm technically 18 days late in this resolution, but there's no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, right? See, it's already getting in.

The Wonders of the Wintry Mix


This has been an unusual week. Due to the inclement weather, I mean tiny bit of ice and snow, we've been stuck at home for most of the time. My husband teaches at a local community college, and they close when the wind blows a little bit hard, so he was home also. It was great fun yesterday when he took Natalie out to play. The girl has no sense of cold. She's been coughing and has had a runny nose, the general cold crud, and would not come in out of the snow. They took the dog for a walk, played on her one little slide (we're saving for a jungle gym), and stomped around the yard in merriment. Here's a glimpse:

I should add here, that I was inside (notice the picture taken through the back door window), in my pajamas, eating anything I could find. In my effort to lose my baby weight, I haven't bought any cookies, which are my total downfall, and I was cursing that decision by the hour yesterday. Really could have used some chocolate chip cookies. Or Peanut Butter. Or Sugar. Or Snickerdoodle...
I'm not resourceful enough to make them from scratch. Break and Bake all the way.

We're now out and about today, and I think I can resist the urge to go by the store and hit the cookie aisle. My Weight Watcher Leader would be proud.

Dirty Lurker No More

Well, in honor of delurking week, I have decided to finally begin blogging. I think the idea of a chronical of my life as a mom and the lives of my children is a great one, seeing as I am completely and utterly devoid of crafty sentiment (read: scrapbooking). Don't get me wrong, I think scrapbooking is great. In fact, I have hundreds of dollars worth of scrapbooking materials in my garage in tupperware bins because I think it's so cool. Unfortunately, I just don't enjoy it. It's probably because I am a part of the instant gratification generation and scrapbooking just takes too dang long. I tried to convince myself that I might enjoy cardmaking instead. That was before I spent an three nights (all night) making sets of homemade cards for Christmas. I now prefer to give my hard earned money to Hallmark. This admission makes me an anomaly among most of my friends. They get together and have scrapbooking parties. I'm invited, of course, but since I'd just be sitting around eating chips, I don't think a party is a good idea.

I never even finished my first born's baby book. I don't keep the sentimental items that I should (though I do know some women who have kept items that remained from a circumcision - GAK!) I'm the total anti-packrat, to the point that my husband regularly asks me if I've thrown away whatever it is that he is looking for. Sadly, it's often true. We just moved into a new house. Our garage is filled with boxes of my husband's mementos, dating back to elementary school. I have one box. one.

I have already begun the blogging digression, so let me get back to my point. I'd really like to have some type of record of all the funny things my kids do, how they develop, and how I grow as a parent. I've been inspired by many of the INCREDIBLE writers that I've come to love here in blogworld and challenged to spend some time reflecting and recording my life. So thanks to all of you who have diligently kept me in hysterical laughter. It's been my own lack of writing self esteem that has held me back. No more. If I stink as a writer, so be it.