Girl, Please...I am Totally Cool with This. No, Really, I am

Day after tomorrow.

I leave for Blissdom in Nashville, TN.

This is big, my sisters (and like the two men who sometimes stop by, who NEVER leave a comment.).

The fb group for first timers has been a life saver.

It has also distracted me until I have gotten so little done in the last couple of weeks.  I am surprised I can even find my children.

I have found so little time to actually write a post, I am unsure whether I can still call myself a blogger.

I have looked at others' blogs until I am near panic-stricken:
 (1) All the newbies have fancy schmancy designs.  They keep saying, "I am just a small blogger."  People with like 300 followers.
 (2)  I have not seen one of their blogs before.  None of the speakers or "community leaders" is someone whose blog I've even stumbled across before.  Except for Shell.  I would imagine you won't be able to stir the crowd around her with a stick.
 (3)  I haven't had time to keep up with reading others blogs.  Exactly one half of the fun of this hobby.  Maybe I will hit the blogs I follow and see if anyone is going who won't be their first Bliss.

 I am staying off site at a two-star hotel.  If you've never had the experience, I will fill it in.  Two-star means that when they say non-smoking room, they mean that it isn't on fire.  It would be walking distance from the hotel if not for the over pass.  Yeah, I am not walking under there. My stuff will be at my room and I will be at the Opryland Resort.  I am thinking of ditching the fancy dress on Friday night and just wearing jeans. I am torn between staying up late shooting the sh*t with new friends and pouncing on the powerful wifi signal and getting some stuff done. And going to bed.  What seems like a big decision now, may not be in the moment.

Mickey sent me out shopping with the credit card last week.  Two reasons, one because when your man's friend hands him a Kohl's coupon and sends him to get some new clothes, you know he looks bad.  Mickey wouldn't get anything unless I did, so...Okay.  I have already lost one of my sweaters.   That's gratitude for ya.  If my girls did something like this I would be catatonic.  But overall, this is a fracking...YAY!!!

I would totally never have guessed that I needed business cards.  They were a big hurdle for me mentally.  I spent the money and then didn't know if they would arrive on time.  But they came today. 

 

And as you know, if you follow me on Twitter,  I am just not there very much.  But for these events, it is just about a necessity.  So, after a lot of soul searching, Mickey and I decided He told me to go get this thing or else.  Since I am such a compliant woman...

And there it is.

I also have new glasses, much to the delight of every single person I know.  Because now I might quit complaining about not being able to see stuff.

The kids are all taken care of for the days I am gone. Except the first day.  Yeah, I know.  Shut up.

I will continue to call friends to see if my kids (who, even if I would let them stay by themselves across the street from BLOW Goes Hillbilly, will not do their school work.) [Did you know that more people give up homeschooling and put their kids back in traditional school in February than any other month?]

I will throw my new sweater pants in the bag and gas up the car.

See you there.

Breaking the Ice

Hey, Y'all!!!

"Why-u-take-my-pic-right-now?" face

I am going to Blissdom '12.

"Really-u-gonna-take-my-pic-NOW?" face

I feel very fortunate to be attending.  I really never thought my dream of attending such a conference would come true this soon.  I am, understandably, I think, a little apprehensive about remembering all the details, arriving on my own and not looking as out of place as a milk bucket under a bull.  Fortunately, there is an fb page for Blissdom Newcomers.  The action on such a page is fast and furious, as the women are wickedly plugged in.

"Sneak-and-take-it-while-she-isn't-looking," shot.

Many are writing an ice breaker post.  So we can all get to know one another.

This seems like an assignment I can handle.

Before I learned to use the photo editing software.

Hey, New Friends and Awesome Ladies!!!  I mean you're both. New and Awesome; Friends and Ladies.

I have been blogging for two years, and this is my third blog.  The first on had to do with our adoption.  Everyone had an adoption blog and I thought I should try it out.  A friend or two should mentioned I should have a blog.  I figured that this would be a good start.  By the time we got home from China, blogging had captured me.

My favorite posts over there are:


The Real Cost of Adoption

and

I Win. Again.

Well, things didn't have that airbrushed and pastel quality, that people are generally going for when they add a new member to the family.  So when I got back from China, I stewed a moment and decided to try an anonymous blog.  I am pretty angry when I am anonymous.  Inadvertently, I also chose a name with less SEO than Kim Kardashian or Bigger Breasts or Weight loss.

A Recipe for Thanksgiving

Anonymity didn't work.  I found myself back at blogger and trying to stay out of the way of the cyberstalker person who made me decide not to continue at the other blog.

This looks friendlier in color.

Somehow, I have been here a year and a minute.  Some things are different.  I haven't really been able to embrace the difference.  And now I have another child.  A smaller one.  And less time to gnaw over what I am trying to actually say.

A quick description of our life:

One marriage, 20 years.

Three children...14yo identical twin girls(adopted locally as infants) and a 7 yo boy(adopted from China in 2010).  All are adopted.  None look like me or my husband.  We consider it a call from God to parent children.  We don't feel proficient.  It isn't the same.

He is an architect.  His a very, very, very, very, good one.

I studied education, taught two years.  Homeschool the people now.

We bought an older home hoping to be able to renovate.  5.5 years and quite a number of unfulfilled predictions (by others) later.  It hasn't happened.

Two dogs and an commitment phobic outdoor cat.
 

The girls started high school this year, and are attending their first co-ops.  Homeschool co-op is the best thing ever in the universe.  Imagine, if you will, just happening to walk by when some hairy-legged junior boy is walking up to try and charm your freshman girl.  Imagine.  Making friends with his mom. (cue evil laugh)

The thing is, in this life, things have been hard, in some ways.  I am tired of persevering, and sometimes, I talk to God on the blog.  Sometimes, I swear.  Sometimes, I am unafraid to be critical of the status quo in the institutional church.  As such, I have not invited many IRL friends to the blog.  Mainly, unbeknownst to most of my real life relationships, my blog friends have been the ones to see me through these tough times.

Jesus knows.  He knows all I need and who I am on the inside.  I am so grateful for what blogging and blog friendships have added to my life.

I know that I am going to Blissdom for a reason and because He saw fit to arrange the circumstances.  He is actively re-arranging everything.  I am running everywhere I go.  I am out of breath and dropping balls as I go.  My posts have slowed to one a week-ish, because news happens to fast to know if it will change tomorrow and I have no time to enjoy a good laugh.

I have forgotten how to be funny.  Although I almost had it once or twice.

I think that is a good start new sisters...  Don't be afraid to share your ice breaker, too.

Nobody Cares, but It Makes Me Feel Better...

I have been a pretty faithful Biggest Loser viewer.  (You noticed I didn't modify their name, did you?)  Who doesn't love a good transformation?  Who doesn't love a good miracle?  I mean, here they are; overwhelmed by the challenge before them.  They take a chance and apply and are chosen for one of a few spots to live apart from distractions and concentrate on healthy living without having to remember to pay the light bill.

Right?

After last night's episode, I am done.

They say it is all done in the editing.  If so, NBC has allowed editing to paint the whole crowd like a bunch of jerks.  After several seasons of recovery after the Heba and Vickie mess (season 6), they have again rounded up a crew of immature females to play miserable, manipulative garbage.  Several seasons running, the group of contestants have linked arms and weathered the game play aspects with trust in the method and positive encouragement as the general rule.  Last night's episode demonstrated that they decided to emphasize the ratings grabbing spiciness of a racy conflict.

That's right, America, where ratings are concerned, "Ignorance is Bliss."


I won't tune in to watch anymore exploitation of anyone's lack of education or home training by the network to increase ratings.  I won't let my kids think that I think that bullying is good family entertainment.  That is what is going on.  Bullying.  There is a Bully and her Toady and a Victim, and all those kids who won't shout, "NO!!!" because they are afraid that the bully will turn their aggression on them.

Symptomatic of these selected combatants is a tendency to display an attitude I am getting from my daughters from time to time, these days-- acting like if they don't get called out, caught, or corrected, that their behavior is up for grabs and it doesn't matter how they act.  In addition, if they feel like they can throw a block conversationally(no matter how stupid), that they have successfully defended the behavior, and they can walk away.  If they can re-direct the blame to ANYONEELSEINTHEUNIVERSE, they have successfully avoided dealing with their own business [And no, I am not ashamed to bust them out on my blog.  There are rules here, too.  Don't do anything you don't want someone to post on their Facebook status.  Really, there are nowhere near as many people looking this as at my Facebook status, so let's re-word it...

DON'T DO ANYTHING YOU WOULDN'T WANT TO READ ABOUT ON YOUR MOM'S BLOG.].

I digress.

The attitude problems that I believe are rampant today, are super-characterized by the candid comments that get edited in and re-inforced by the editing of the trainer's comments in the weigh-in room.  I went to bed before the elimination last night. We won't be tuning in, again.  There is no victory, when people get recognition and greater attention for behaving inappropriately, than for being positive and fighting toward their goals.  For several seasons, I have dozed through the weigh-ins because they drew them out too long, but that is no longer a problem.

NBC doesn't care about one viewer (or one tv set). The sponsors ( We sat around and thought of 7 without effort..there have to be more.) don't care about one family's purchase of their product. As long as most people keep on tuning in and buying sh...tuff.  Goodness knows there is not one person on earth who needs to be watching more TV.  I realize this doesn't make me very PR friendly.  But I am going to think for myself and my family, first and deal with the bullet wound in my foot later.

I know no one cares, but as for me and my house...we will do something that is real and entertaining.  Where the challenges are real and the victories legit.

You Kiss Me with That Mouth? #momfail

Grace is the word for the day.

For all of us.

Particularly, me.  Who received a lovely compliment in the form of a link on FB, which in a moment of unguarded sonambulism...allowed in my timeline.  Which wouldn't be a problem, except for one thing.

I write at "PG-13", content and vocabulary-wise.  While the majority of my IRL friends watch PG-13 and rated R movies.  They would not allow someone to come into their homes and speak to their children in that fashion.

I respect their preferences, so I have a separate FB identity for linking the blog.  I admit it is a hassle and I am not all that good with it.

Which obviously, no longer matters, since I busted myself out while patting my own back.  In my sleep.

The figurative bounce down the stairs on my tailbone wasn't finished.

The other night, the kids and I hung out with friends.  One hazard of homeschooling is the attitiude of "school night; schmool night." with regard to bedtimes on weeknights when something fun is on tap.  The 14yo girls contingent ran off and we heard a lot of marginally wicked stuff, but not anything alarming and the dads ran off and the little boys played knee ball.  Until.  Midnight.

Blah blah blah

We run into these friends last night.  They told a cute story that ended up with something being revealed that I had heard about from one of my daughters about the other, but long story short, my children are using PG-13 language to offend their friends.

Deserve it?

I do.

In trouble?

Believe me, if I could figure out anything that wasn't soaked in double standard, they would be.  But I can't.

Remember?  Grace is the word of the day.

They showed grace to me.

Their daughter showed grace to mine.

I am struggling to extend grace to myself for raising girls with the mouth of a longshoreman.

For having to redefine dreams.

For realizing that there are other moms of 14 year-olds who are dealing with MUCH worse than this.

For realizing I can't be mad at my kids for being a mirror of who I am.


None-too-cute.

What I believe is what determines my behavior.

Humility?

Thinking before I speak?

I have almost none.

Grace.

Here on Walton's *stinking* Mountain.

Right now is grace to them.

They don't realize I know, yet...

while I ride them per usual about leaving co-op work until the day before,

while I prepare foods they feel too good to consume,

while I prepare for an evening where they get all caffeine -d up and spend the night yelling, because they can't control themselves,

until I can handle it once and be done.

Interestingly, this happens on a week when we had a meeting at church and discussed how some women feel isolated.  They get the feeling everyone else is perfect and if people really knew their "business", they would not be considered good enough to be friends with.  Okay, that doesn't sound quite right. I keep trying to fix it, and that's what I mean.  The point is: we were able to have the meeting.  In some places, that meeting doesn't take place.  Not everyone loved it.  Not everyone shared.

You see, now my friends know I am faking to their faces.  My kids are only behaving as they have seen me behave and they know I would not approve.  But as long as I don't know... (where could they have learned that?)

Bottom line.  Time has run out for being who I want people to believe I am.  I'm outed.  Wish it were on something like how great a writer I am or that I am the real D.B. Cooper.

There's not much telling how long this has been going on or what else the little beauties think is honoring to themselves and their family.  (tongue so far in cheek I am almost to choke).  I raised kids who aren't smart enough to know that tells who they are.  There's no way out of my responsibility for my disappointment in this case.

#momfail.

Grace or no grace.

Pick: A Young Man's Guide to Love

It's nearly Valentine's Day.  The day of....romance.


We all understand that Valentine's Day isn't reeeeeally for Mom's to give cards to their children.  They have birthdays.  It isn't reeeeeally for husbands to give cards to their wives, because they would have to buy it themselves have anniversaries.  So by extension...


Valentine's Day is for people who are or would like to be Sweethearts.


(This in no way lets the husband off the hook for bringing the Valentine's Day Noise.  However.  That is a topic for another day.)


Sweethearts.


"A young man's thoughts turn to love."


Too bad for him.


AN ACCIDENTAL GUIDE FOR YOUNG MEN WHO THINK THEY'RE GONNA DATE MY DAUGHTER 


1) She's 14.  You have a lot of time to think this over and decide if I, Their dad, They, She is worth the trouble. Back. Up. Off.


2)  If you can't tell them apart, you don't know who you are attracted to.  If you can't declare a name. you are not ready to date my daughter.  But again, you have plenty of time to figure out who is who.


3) Introduce yourself to their daddy. If you are really even just their friend, you should be polite.  One man failed to do this, and I am still hearing about it. It is key that you not make more work for me in the husband/father management department.  I can sabotage you... something about a rash...


Moving on.


4) You have a couple of years to practice Facebook awareness.  Clean up that page and have fewer pictures of yourself smelling the hair of girls in expensive gowns.  Who are you posting for? Clearly, not your mother.  A girl doesn't want to be just a face in the crowd.  (see rule 2)


Loathe as parents are to admit it, we WILL be stalking you on Facebook.  They should call it Characterbook.  Your timeline shows the real you like you are standing naked in the room.  Man up. Quit giggling and listen. We can tell the main thing in your life by the way you run your page.


5)   Think forward.  Be nice to her little bro. By the time she can date, Little Dude will be able to spy on you, sabotage you, let the air out of your tires or spill hot coffee on your crotch.  She doesn't think a lot of him; if she is telling you to be nice, you best do it.  Make friends with him first.  It will melt her stony heart.


6)  It's only fair to warn you, we aren't "date as many people as you can possibly get to sign your dance card" people.  We are "don't go out with anyone who is not a reasonable choice for a mate; whether it works out or not" people.  If you are planning to keep your options open, there are a lot of girls out there whose parents only require that you come to the door to pick her up.  Break their hearts. We haven't got time for the pain.


7) Grass grows everywhere.  This man works so hard, he doesn't need to be climbing on roofs and cleaning gutters.  There is no reason that when you finish at your house, you can't amble by here.  Mickey's hands need never touch the "self-propel" handle.


Only if you are interested.


8) There is at least one man ahead of you.  When he sees me he says, "Hello, How are you doing today?" He treats me like a friend of his mom's, which I am.  I am a friend of your mom's, too.  I am a friend of your mom's who has a lot of stuff that needs carrying to the car.


I am SO not kidding.


9)  You would do well to study up on Architecture and take a golf lesson.  You are going to have to visit with the dad.  He knows what goes through your mind.  Bad for you.  He was 17 once.  You have your work cut out.  You will probably watch a lot of movies and sports with him before you EVER get to be alone with his daughter. 



10)  Her sister.  She will always come first.  If she doesn't like you, you are toast.  Burned toast.  Cut, burnt toast.


11)  We are old school.  You may assume that the TELEPHONE is working at our house.  You are invited to treat this human being like a lady and have an actual spoken conversation with her.  If you don't care to do that, you don't care enough.  Text is for telling husbands to bring home milk and wives that you cannot tell time will be late. You may even feel free to call her dad on the phone and ask him if you can bring a pizzas over and watch the movies with him on Friday.


SO THAT ONE DAY WHEN THEY ARE ACTUALLY OLD ENOUGH TO DATE, YOU WILL BE WAY AHEAD OF THE PACK OF DOGS


12) This is my treasure.  Right up behind Jesus.  If she isn't the same for you, keep searching.  If she is worth it, a short set of rules is a small price to pay.  Jacob worked 14 years for the woman he loved... And as long as she lives under our roof, we are going to be helping her discern the Best from the Good Enough.


Keep your mouth shut and your eyes and heart open.  Know all about her when you walk up to her the first time.  (Not in a crazy stalker-y way...in a good time management way)  And there is plenty of time.


Happy Valentine's Day.  In 2014.


Sweetheart.




I am sharing my awesome with Momma Made It Look Easy.

Friendship, Fear and Trepidation...

Most of this was written on January 18

Y'AAAALLLL....

Okay, first of all, let me just say!!!

This internet strike is happening on my birthday.

I have two friends who are having major life drama.  On my birthday.

Today is the 5th anniversary of my cousin's death.

I am 45 years-old and still think it is all about me.  On my birthday.

That is now off my chest.  No, I mean it.  It completely is, and y'all know the drill.  Blogging is free therapy.   Seriously.

Because I love you and I want to be entirely honest, I will tell you.  When you are just about to be old, gifts stop being whatever is on your list, and start being intangibles.

Loving that pair of boots?  Go ahead and get them.  You are getting love for Christmas and your birthday.  This is not a complaint.  You are getting love and boots.  It's a good thing.

I have been hinting, so I will just tell you all I have been blessed with... Just like a kid coming back to school from Christmas Winter, wait...NO... Christmas break and  having to write a Theme.  I am going to tell you what I got for Christmas and my birthday.

Bah.  Ha.  Ha.

#1  A Tiara...  I am fascinated by  what causes someone to fall in love.  Having known each other in the blog for just a minute, Carrie reminded me of who I am and what I am worth by sending me an actual crown in the real life mail. And a very speical card. Like people used to do.  Back when f*ceb**k didn't exist and the word 'friend' meant something.

#2  An IRL friend made Christmas possible for my kids.  I am not sure what we would have done otherwise.  Probably jacked up some credit cards, like idiots.  It was a sacrifice for them.  Seriously, y'all.  Just like, Jesus' love.  We didn't earn it and don't deserve it.  Can't really explain it.  Thanks are not, either, enough.

#3  How do you explain?  Some folk appeared out of nowhere. Incredibly fun, generous, challenging people.
A conversation in August, that retreat in October, um...friendship.  Sheesh.  It's that thing again.  How do you explain when someone just ambles into your life and starts loving you.  And it's a couple friends thing.  Does anyone else get silly and, like, all middle school crushy...about your couple friends?

Probably, that's just us.

We know they already have everyone someone else, but it's not out of the question for me to go all Tayl*r Sw*ft on them... I would have to lose about 85 pounds or, alternatively, while I am  already being creepy, I could just send T.S. some sandwiches.  In the mail.

#4  People keep giving us clothes.  The girls and I don't have to dress like it is an office or wear uniforms.  Marcus is taken care of. It hasn't been in the budget and some really cool women with some incredible taste have been cleaning out their closets.

#5  Since, "the merger", Mickey has gotten two messages.  They didn't have not one single thing to do with me.  They just gave me courage. Both of them do what I do all the time,  Remind him how good he is at his job; but, much like your mom telling you you're beautiful, it comes from someone who doesn't HAVE to say it.  (Perhaps, you know me well enough by now that you know that I don't say anything if I feel I have to. [I digress.]) I really wish I could elaborate.  REALLY.

#6  Okay...I just struggle to title my posts.  You are wondering this whole time, "What in the world? How many times have I explained SEO to her?  Oh my GOSH!"  So there was a reason and here it is...

Jennifer, from Momma Made It Look Easy, mentioned way back in the summer that she was going to Blissdom.  Well, her plans changed.  She passed her registration along to me. And again, I am blown away.

 I have never been to a blog conference, and I am trying to study up. I am scared.  Will I be the frumpiest?  Is there an award for that?  I am sure to be among the oldest.  The website says that crying in the restroom is not allowed.  What is the penalty for that?  What if I am not computer-y enough?  What if people laugh at my gigantic-butt, ancient, carved-from-stone laptop?  Seriously.

I need to get down to the serious business of putting to bed my commitments for the three days of conference, praying that my husband's bat-poo crazy, work life doesn't come up with some fabricated obstacle; and asking for the grace to plan my outfits, food and budget to disguise the fact that I haven't been out of my house for 12 years.  It is with a certain amount of fear and trepidation that I tell you...

I am 'geeked'.

And overwhelmed.

Again.

Thank you, Jennifer.

Thank you, all of my friends the hands and feet of God's extravagant love in my life.

I'm such a dork.




I'm sharing my Awesome with Jennifer.  You should too.

Don't Like the Story? Stay Tuned; It Will Change.

In the previous post, I referred to a new willingness to trust God in a way I hadn't been.

Well...

Now, look.

The point is, when you tell Him that kind of thing, a lot of people might think you are asking for it.

Here is what He will do...

1)  He will lead you down a road you didn't know existed, but He had been constructing for months.

when Mickey returned to the office after the holiday his firm had merged.

2) He will cause you to notice all the signs along the way.  That you had overlooked when you were digging for toll money.

That morning in my study, I felt strongly about one answer to a question that said, God would be able to move in our lives if we'd get out of His road and let Him.  I knew it would be soon.

3) Just when you think there are probably no more surprises, and now it is another excruciating wait until you find out the conclusion of this chapter that could go all good or all bad, there is another surprise.

While we knew that none of this mess had gone unnoticed by a loving and generous Father whose timing is never wrong; it turned out that it had also not escaped the attention of other people, who, if they can't do anything about it can at least affirm and support.

Extra bonus:  Mickey gets off the phone and says, " [Dude] said everything you have been saying the whole time."  Folks, I am not mad.  I am in my house with my kids, my training is in Education, not Business or whatever.  The other guy...decent Arghitect.  (I just invented that word.)

4) The surprise that looks juicy and would make the obvious, quick, neat & tidy, happily ever after to this story, turns out to be just another in a list of possibilities that look...okay.


 5)Again, He shows you, "See what I have been doing up to now? Am I going to follow through?"

Y'all, just every day and hour, I am grateful.  I have PMS, I have been forgetting to take my supplements.  Friday was a rude re-entry into the rude routine.  But peaceful as after the kids go to bed.

6) And when you heave a sigh of relief, "BAM."  Another Confetti-Cannon-of-"What-In-The-World?"...

Friends...real friends...so much more than I deserve.

I prayed some weird prayers in December: "God, I want to feel."  "Father, Help me be more fun for my family."  I told Him I was trusting Him.  No matter what.  I do my job, and He does His.


I am sharing my Awesome with Jennifer@Momma Made It Look Easy.