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.