Who knew Debbie Downer was in your blog community?

Ok so last week started out with doggie tapeworms.
Then a zoinked A/C inside and out at our house.
After that, an interview which threw us into the possibility of a move.

This week started off rocky too.
A tummy bug which kept us home Monday.
I filled out a job application for Chris that I was really excited about while I was home yesterday.
I checked out the listing today and it had been removed from the website so I called about it. The person who had previously given notice for this job had decided not to leave after all. So after spending almost 4 hours yesterday doing the online application, nada.

Tuesday, today - if you're counting - we got sent home from school early due to the tummy bug that keeps on truckin'.
I had to take our new adorable puppy back to the vet for removal of her sutures and to get her parvo vaccine.
She has been feeling pretty bad and I have called the vet several times to ask about it, but considering the fact that we have been dealing with a tummy bug for several days with Jaron, it had been back-burnered.
Anywho, I took her in today. They ran a test. She has parvo. I had no idea it could have been a deadly virus or I definitely would have taken her in sooner. The vet and I figured that she was still under the weather from all she's been through the last week or so.

They gave me the option of admitting her to the doggie hospital, spending at least $500, and then she has a 70% chance of survival. If I didn't go the expensive route, her chances are 50/50.

How do you tell your kids who were just given their very first puppy that a week and a half later, their dog is most likely gonna die?

I really like Bonnie. She's a good dog. Already she has proven that she's smart and sweet, and since we've had her, she's never even felt well - between her hysterectomy, tapeworm, and parvo. And all in about 10 days. Don't even get me started on the vet bills. OY!

We decided to bring her home and give her the best care we could. That means I am waking up every two hours to medicate her. I am hoping that our love and my consistent effort will actually put her at better advantage than sitting in a doggie hospital with an IV. We'll see.

For now, please let me urge you not to adopt any puppies from the animal shelter if you were thinking about it. Puppies are more susceptible to the ugly stuff that gets passed around in there and is the reason for all of Bonnie's anguish. Try to get an adult dog because they stand a better chance of survival if they contract one of these awful sicknesses.

It is no fun to tell your kids that when they wake up tomorrow morning their brand new dog might be in doggie heaven.

If anyone has any parvo expertise, bless your heart, please elaborate - I am at a complete loss.

Stuff.

The interview went well. It was in Big Spring.
It went so well, in fact, that Chris decided to have an opinion about whether he wants to move or not. I have been trying to drag it out of him for a while now to no avail. I guess it took a good interview to get him to talk.

He said that unless he finds an unbelievable job there, he'd rather not move.
WOO-HOOooooo! Lord knows I didn't want to go there...
Anyway, it's not completely ruled out because the way the whole thing kinda fell into our laps makes us feel like we should wait it out and see - but for now, neither of us really want to go there. There would have to be some pretty major changes in both of our hearts for it to happen.

We haven't gotten a new A/C yet.

The kids are well enough to go back to school tomorrow.

Cowboys lost. So bummed about that.

I was going to check my email today. I was kinda in the midst of a prayer-ful time because of some things I have been seeking God about. I have really been praying and praying and feverishly seeking. If you know me - it's borderline obsessive. 'Borderline' would be a generous descriptor. Anyway, to my inbox I went, hoping for some poignant job offer or other unsolicited answer to life's questions...
To make a long story short, when I went to my favorites list to pull up my email, I must have hit the wrong thing and this is what I pulled up...




It is as if God is trying to tell me something. Hmmmm.........

Sick day number two, week 4 of school.

I had to call in sick today because yesterday afternoon Jaron got real sick. He had a pretty high fever that was consistent in spite of ibuprofen and he kept complaining of a tummy ache.
Avery had a tummy bug last weekend, so I didn' t think that could be the problem.

In the night, Jaron confirmed that he did have a bug. Several times he confirmed that.
And today we are all at home with nothing to do but hang out in our jammies, clean up messes, and cuddle. It's not all bad, kinda nice really - except that my kids are sick, that part's not so good.

I wanted to blog about it, not just because I like to blog about mundane things, but also because several of my readers go to church with us and unfortunately, your kids were more than likely exposed to this bug too. I am sorry if your child gets sick.

I am just now remembering that I blew up a very slobbery balloon after Jaron when he couldn't blow it up for himself... (Not that I expect him to blow up his own balloons - he just wanted to try and be a big boy.) I hope I don't get sick too.

I have so much to blog about. Maybe today is the day for updation. We shall see.

The Belly of a Big Fat Whale

I have an interview on Friday morning.
An out of town interview.

I realized when I began to think about all the hassle of making sure I have appropriate childcare, constructing lesson plans, etc. - I may not be as 'jive' about the whole thing as I thought.

Then the realization hit me. If I get this job, we will have to find Chris a job in a little less than two weeks, switch the kids out of their school, their home, their town, their lives...

I won't be able to go to the Women's retreat - which ranks very high on my personal list. Stupid, I know - but legitimate to me.

I won't be a stone's throw away from my parents anymore.


I hate that town - the town where the job is. I said to my husband (and I quote) "I have a job interview for the PERFECT job. It is perfect in every way - EXCEPT that it would require me to reside in the belly of a big, fat whale."

So what happens when "perfect" turns out not to be so perfect after all?

This is where you start singing the theme song to FRIENDS, begin swaying, and bringing over plates of cookies.

I bet 6 of you comment and say something like: "sounds to me like you already have your answer..."

Being inside my head is no cakewalk lately, I tell ya!

31K.

She's been running a race - a good one I might add.
Not the kind of race that all you tennis shoe wearing types have been training so hard for lately - but a race nonetheless.

Her race started 31 years ago today.
In her 31 years, she has been growing and learning and practicing for what is to come.
She has fallen (literally and figuratively), pulled muscles, and taken wrong turns - just like the rest of us.

But she has never stopped training - at every turn, looking for her place, her fit, her calling.

She is a light wherever she goes, a laugh to whomever she meets, a bright spot on this planet for sure. Her race, and her commitment to it, somehow encourages the rest of us to keep running, and to run well.

A person committed to excellence and purity of heart. A person dedicated to becoming THE person God wants her to be.

I am convinced that during the course of my own race, I will be impressed by the valiance of others. But I am not likely to encounter one who will leave such an indelible mark as my friend, my mentor, my sister.

I am blessed to know you and love you - as it is impossible to achieve the former without also giving in to the latter.

You are truly an inspiration.

On your birthday, be inspired and know that I love you more than any sister has ever been loved.

Happy 31 and (K)ounting...

A high dollar fit.

Just in case you're not in the mood to listen to whiney whimpering at its finest, consider this your fair warning.

I just paid some guy $125 to come to my house and tell me that I was about to have to shell out $3500 more to get our air conditioner working again.

$3500. Its much easier to type out than to write a check for that amount. It might as well be $10 million.

So $3625? Is that all?

That's roughly what I make in one entire school year after childcare expenses and taxes. It will take me an entire school year, going to work every single day - 360 lunches packed, 180 high stress mornings, 180 cram packed days to pay for it.

I NEED A FULL TIME JOB!!!! It has come to that. Period.

I don't know how to verbalize all the crazy emotionally charged bursts of thought going through my mind right now.

I cannot abide the thought that every day that I go to work for the next 8 1/2 months is only going to pay for the air conditioning unit that would have been paid for automatically by our home owner's warranty if it had crashed out just 3 short months ago.

Yes. I know I'm throwing a fit. A $3625 fit, laden with tears.

The gods must be crazy - part 3.

(this post pays homage to some very obscure and weird 80's movies entitled "the gods must be crazy I and II.")

What is going on? I need some direction here...
Today in my inbox:

Dear Angela,

I have an opening for a 6th grade Choir Director who would team teach with the Jr. High and High School teachers. Our web site is (removed to protect the innocent :) if you would like to look at our site.
Our 6th grade is in Goliad Intermediate School with the 5th grade and you would be responsible for teaching 2 show choir type classes a day. We have a 5th grade teacher who would be helping you as well. The rest of the day would be spent team teaching with the 3 Jr. High classes and 2 High school classes.
If you would like more information feel free to contact me by e-mail or by phone.

This position. This exact position is the one I finally broke down and called about some three weeks ago when I decided that I might never find a job in our district and that this would be as good a launching pad as any due to logistical issues related to the job's location and the experience I could gain. yada. yada. yada.
So three weeks ago I called about it, resigned to the fact that we might be looking at a move away from SA. According to the Administrator's secretary, the position had 'just been filled' so I decided I hadn't really 'heard from God' on that particular job.
Not hearing from God, or the confusion of wondering whether I have or not, is a strongly resonating tone in my life right now. I chalked it up to having let my desire for a solution (read: full time job) get in the way of what God must be trying to tell me.
I left no contact number and did not even give my name as an interested party after I found out that the position wasn't available. The opening dropped off the district's website and I erased it from my thoughts. Sort of.

Now this.
It turns out that this lady (the one who wrote the email) was my husband's jr. high choir director.
This job is in my husband's hometown.
The pro's and con's of such a thing are too numerous to list.
Suffice it to say, my current job is not as heavenly as it has been in the past.
This job could present a pathway to a new life for us.
There are so many complicated factors involved with a choice like this one.

A very big part of me - the part that worked so hard for a degree in a field that tugs at the core of who I am (a musician) wants this job very badly.
The other parts of me - the mom part, the wife part, the daughter part, the friend part - worries that making a decision with this much weight attached to it could (duhn, duhn, DUHN) forever alter the course of history!!!!
So much drama.

What to do!?!?!?!?!

Poor, poor baby.

Ok. so the dog.
You ever heard the phrase "eats like they have a tapeworm?"

She eats and eats and eats.

Today I took her to the vet.

Turns out, she has a tapeworm.

For reals.

She's been treated and will be fine in no time.

Until then, I am being tortured with an incurable case of the heebie-jeebies.

Seriously?
A tapeworm?

NO WAY!!

Bonnie Little Lass

Here is Bonnie, our new little bundle!
She's a doll.

Although we have no way to know for sure because she's a pound puppy, we think she must be yellow/chocolate lab and border collie.
She's definitely not full lab - hence the border collie assumption, and because she has green eyes and a pink nose, there has to be some chocolate lab in her - but it's really just a guess.

Either way, she's a mutt and so are we - so it's a fit. We are glad to have found a sweet puppy who seems to be unaffected by Jaron's antics and cute and small enough that Avery is not terrified of her.

So far Day 1 has been uneventful. I'll let you know when she really pops out of her shell on the next day or two how I feel about new puppies...

And then there were 5.

There are so many ways to title this post.



"Things I thought I'd never do again"



"Never say never"



I truly am at a loss. I have decided that there may be no better way to break into this realm of conversation than to just say it.









We. are. adopting.

"NO WAY"











Yes, we are. We have fallen in love and can no longer see our family as complete without her.





















A dog.











A mutt really.









And she will become a part of our family on Friday.











We do not have a name for her yet - but she is definitely rascally enough to fit in with the likes of us.





So there you have it - and then there were five.





Pictures to come later!!

Mosquito, No?

Last night as I was tucking Jaron in for the night, he spotted a mosquito in his bedroom. He was too nervous at the thought of sleeping in the same room with a blood-sucking insect so we decided to try and kill it.
For a while we swatted aimlessly as it flew around our heads. Then I decided to roll up my jeans to the knee and entice it to land on my giant leg veins. Mmmmm....
I said, "No mosquito could resist these legs."
Jaron leaned over and took a long look at my legs and said, "I sure could."

32 reasons I love him on his 32nd birthday.

1. Because he's the father of my children - and a very good one at that.
2. He's a person who teeters perfectly at the edge of man and boy. Mostly man but just enough boy to keep him fun.
3. He is so predictable, yet he doesn't see it in himself. I can usually tell him what he's gonna do before he does it. Or he'll begin to ask me a question and before he can even utter three words, I know he's lost his keys again.
4. I love him because of the way he smells. He has a smell all his own.
5. He wants to stay young, even though he mostly acts like a fuddy-duddy. :)
6. He loves his family. Immediate and extended. He makes it a priority to keep in touch with them.
7. He likes Japanimation. That is just too funny and lovable not to mention.
8. He gets his hair cut long before he needs a haircut. He thinks it looks like a Brillo pad if it gets "too long."
9. There's a definite bounce in his walk on his days off. That bounce is one of the reasons I fell in love with him.
10. He is addicted to paper towels. Paper towels are like duct tape to him - so multi-purpose. It just honestly cracks me up, so I love it!
11. He makes me laugh.
12. Watching him with his kids and seeing the way he loves them whole-heartedly makes me love him more.
13. I can be myself when I am with him.
14. He never gives up on us.
15. His soft voice. It's so pretty.
16. I love the slant of his eyes.
17. Even when I am literally out of my mind, I don't scare him off - he accepts me.
18. He calls me his little chigger, because I apparently "live" under his skin... ;)
19. Every time he takes a drink, he involuntarily growls afterward as if to say, "That hit the spot!"
20. He's easy on the eyes.
21. He calls me from work just to say, "I love you."
22. He keeps secrets.
23. He loves my family. Honestly.
24. I love it that I can have intellectual conversations with him.
25. I love it that he's an avid reader - except at bedtime when I'm trying to sleep and his lamp is too bright...
26. He makes me want to be better.
27. I think I make him want to be better.
28. We can shout at the top of our lungs together during Cowboy games. It's awesome.
29. He laughs at my really unfunny jokes. Some of them are pretty funny though.
30. He's ticklish. I love to tickle.
31. He takes longer to get ready than I do, no matter what he tells you, he really does take a long time. Every woman should be so lucky to have those bragging rights.
32. If I ask him whether my butt looks big in something, (hold the chuckles - it's a question of relativity. I realize that there is not any possible way that my bootie looks small ever. The implied question is, "Does my butt look bigger than normal in this?") he answers honestly and always has.

I thought it would be hard to find 32 things to love about him. It wasn't. At the end of my list, I still wanted to add a few.

What a great man!

Have a Happy Brithday!

My angel

Isn't is funny how when a person is at the highest high, happiest happy, swellest swell people flock to them?
It's human nature. People are drawn to happiness, success, and positive things. Wedding days, baby births, birthday parties, all the fun stuff - it's as natural to desire to be a part of those celebrations in others' lives as it is to look forward to those moments in your own life.

Some people are just happy by nature, never allowing themselves the gluttony of self pity or the aggravation of inadequacy. They just plod along with their faces to the sky and seem to truly enjoy their lives, come what may.

So what of the 'negative nellies?'

You know those. We all know at least one. You might even BE one. I myself have been really strung out on negativity for a while now. Some of us are affected by hurtful inner thoughts more than others. Some people struggle day after day with mental and emotional anguish. Some call it a "bad hair day" or "pms" or whatever, but we all know that it is a day to avoid the person who has been affected by the 'negative nellies' as if it is some kind of virus. After all, it's contagious.

It can get to the point that you don't want to be around you either, and as a courtesy to those around you, you avoid exposing them to what ails you.

I have been there. Hoping each day for at least a month that today would be the day that I felt the warmth of the sunshine again. What bothers me most is that it is an obvious weakness. I hate weakness. No. I detest it.

Inner weakness is a sure way to prove that I haven't been relying of God.

Today, in spite of the fact that I tried to construct an excuse not to be able to go to church, I ended up going. I sat by myself initially. Then God sent me an angel.

The sermon was eye-opening and difficult to hear all at the same time. It was about healing. Pastor addressed many misconceptions or misconstruances (made up word) about healing.
I always think of someone in a wheelchair or somebody with cancer when I think of those needing to be healed. Today it was revealed to me that the emotional sickness I have been struggling with is just that - a sickness. Something that I can, in fact, be healed of. I need to be healed. This sickness is slowly taking away my capacity to love.

I have always been a 'picker' - you could never make me any happier than to ask me to take care of a blackhead for you - gross, I know, but true. As a result of my obsession with 'picking', I have been sitting in a dark place 'picking' at my wounds for way too long.

I wrestled with the altar call. I knew that the people who would answer the call were most likely in need of REAL healing. Not like me, the girl who just needs to get over herself and get it together for crying out loud.

I had one of those 'good guy vs. bad guy sitting on my shoulder' moments where I really tried to rationalize and size up God's ability - as if God pours a tiny amount of His Glory into a measuring cup and drizzles it ever so lightly over the most deserving. The bad guy on my shoulder argued that God would never waste even a drop of His healing juice on my stupid emotional drama. Just get a good self-help book already. Better yet, get some help of the pharmaceutical variety.

Then the good guy on my shoulder reminded me of Jesus' 40 days of fasting in the wilderness just after His Baptism.
Even though Jesus had the power to turn those rocks into a loaf of bread at Satan's suggestion, He withstood. He did that for me. For anyone who deals with those mental battles.
He withstood the cunning delusions of Satan - Challenges far greater than any I've experienced or will experience because I needed to be able to trust in a God Who has 'been there.' He bore that burden for me.
Then He took it to the cross.

Isaiah 53:5
But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

So I went to the altar. The altar of healing. The altar of expectation. A place where I could meet with God, show Him my wounds, and ask for His healing.

I was ushered by an angel, though I didn't know it at the time. The very moment I arrived there, two hands gently pressed on my shoulders as if to say, "I'm here. I understand."
And I knew she did.

I have been ruminating on a certain Scripture because of the nature of this battle.
While I stood at the altar, Pastor prayed a simple prayer for me. He said, "Renew."
"Renew."
Over and over, He prayed for renewal. Just the one word, renew.
At that point, I knew. I was validated. My cries had been heard by God. You see? Here's my Scripture:

Romans 12:2 And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.

Whether or not I will wake up tomorrow and wage a battle again for my sanity, I do not know.
I am believing for healing. That healing begins in my thoughts. The renewing of my mind. It will take time. But soon I will feel the warmth of His Sonshine upon my face and loving and trusting will become easy again.

I am loving the thought of loving with abandon once again.

Bone-chilling words

From the kids' bathroom, muffled by the sounds of splashing water and gurgles, these words just floated to my ears...

"We've got to get this finished before Mom sees this."

It is altogether too horrifying a thought to walk to the bathroom.

What could it be?

I don't even care. I mean, I care. But my caring simply does not prevent reality from unfolding as it will. Where there are kids, there are messes.

If the bathroom was not smeared with soap...
If the toilet paper was not pulled from the roll and puddled on the floor...
If the toothbrushes had not been covered with gobs and gobs of toothpaste which, in turn, glued the toothbrushes to the countertop...
If the mirror wasn't slathered with indiscriminate ooze to the point that you could no longer see yourself in it...

It just wouldn't feel like home.

Ahhh! The sweetness of child rearing is sometimes too wonderful to take in.

Hearing Aids

I really want to get to that place of hearing God's voice where He no longer has to establish roadblock after roadblock to keep me where I'm supposed to be, but only has to say, "Go here" and I follow.

I feel like a little toddler cruising around trying to get up the forbidden staircase or touch a hot stove, and He must be continually preventing me from it.
I don't want to be a toddler anymore.
I want to know that I know God wants me here, doing what He wants me to do, and content to do it.

Growth and maturity. Trust and obedience. The same concepts I endeavor day after day to impart to my children, yet still at nearly 26 years into my Christian walk, I struggle with the same things.

How much patience God has with me!

Saturday.

I think there should be a special name for the first Saturday after you start back to work:
Maybe 'Ahhhhhhhhhh....-day.'
Maybe 'Scrub-your-knuckles-off-day'
Maybe 'Shamelessly-drink-an-entire-pot-of-coffee-while-still-wearing-yesterday's-mascara-day'
On second thought, maybe Saturday says it all.

Secrets

My mom asked Jaron what he was going to learn in Kindergarten.

He said, "I'm gonna learn to read and do math. I'm not gonna learn how to spell though because then Mommy and Daddy couldn't have any secrets."

A few first day shots

A day to remember

I woke them up at 7am, hoping to give them the most sleep possible.
They wanted Lego Eggo Waffles and Milk. (Woohoo! Easy!)

They got dressed and watched a few minutes of cartoons while I scurried around getting everything out to the van. Jaron said he was 'too old' for Mickey Mouse Clubhouse - his favorite morning show last year.

I took pictures.
We went to school.
There were no tears.
Everyone had a great day.
It was so normal - more so than I anticipated.
Then it was over.

Thoughts about the day:

My kids have begun and perfected this habit of NEVER LOOKING AT THE CAMERA the moment the shot is snapped. (Partly because my camera is super old and slow and cheap and it flashes about 3 times before 'the real moment' happens; partly because they are being honery and don't actually want me to get a good picture...)

I feel blessed to have 2 kids who are still at the age where they say cute things and still have a teensy bit of squishiness on their elbows. That is the true mark of a baby. Squishy elbows.

They are beginning to act differently - more grown up. We are just beginning to deal with more 'Big Kid' issues. And I see them more and more as big kids interested in bigger kid things and labelling things that have framed so much of our lives for so long now as "babyish."

I do love to see their development. I do.

I also miss that baby love. There really is nothing so sweet as the breath of a baby on your chest while you sleep. Or the tender, trusting looks that without words tell you that 'you can do no wrong' in their eyes.

I begin to wonder how many more times my kids will ask me to hold them. How many more times will I have them appear in my bed at night? How many more times will I have the gift of bathing them?

Their basic needs that once seemed to consume my world are slipping away from my list of daily duties as they gain their independence. I am at once relieved and remorseful. I never realized how much I needed them to need me.

Gone are the days of strollers, cutting up their food, and dressing them in outfits I chose for them.

They are now - all too suddenly - little people with vivid imaginations, strong opinions, and sweaty armpits. Tears.

How Odd!

Is it not ironic that today (the first day of school) I had two messages on my answering machine when I got home?
The messages all by themselves are not odd, I wasn't home so it's only natural... :) It's who the messages were from and what their context involved.
They were from two different school districts - neither within a stone's throw - asking if I would set up an interview for a choir director position.

"WHAT!?!?!?!?! Seriously? Now? Are you kidding me?" (That was my internal dialogue as I listened to the messages.)

I am so glad to be standing on solid ground with my Redeemer because, honestly, everything would be so confusing right now if it weren't for HIM.

On a happier note:

We had a great first day at school! I will take time this evening to download pics and tell stories about Jaron's first day at Kindergarten and Avery's first day of preschool as I am sure you're aching to read about it!

Family Reunion

I forgot to mention that we were headed to my hunny's hometown or a family reunion.

We were there for several days, in what I might normally call a time warp.
We had fun. I met lots of family. More than I could have ever imagined. So many people in my husband's family...
Who would have thought I would ever be at a 'Subia' family reunion??

The kids had a blast! That was their first family reunion. There was a dance. Also a first for them. They were so cute shaking their little booties to the tejano music!

Anyway, we're back.
It was a good time, but it's always good to be home.