A change of heart.

I have decided that I may actually have some recipes to donate to the cause...



Here's my "recipe for a good laugh"

Step 1: Buy a frozen pizza.

Step 2: Look at the box as you open it to cook it.

Step 3: Laugh till you wee.



I bought this frozen pizza without really noticing the box. Now that I have read the box, I feel like the village idiot who actually fell for the advertising gimmick.

I had to take a picture because I was so sure you guys would accuse me of making this up.

It has a "scratch and sniff" sticker on the box.

You will never guess what that sticker smells like...

It smells like "Garlic bread TASTE"
I'll let you know what 'garlic bread taste' smells like ASAP!!
And yes, I DID scratch it and sniff it...

Another great recipe is the one no_iffer was asking for...

The lead-up to this funny thing is - Last week at work my boss handed us all this article on cooking in plastic. The whole article is that it causes cancer to cook in plastic.

I agreed to cook a meal for no_iffer's family on Thursday. I didn't feel 100%, so I went out to my freezer in the garage to check it out. There sat a beautiful Stouffer's Grandma's Cheesy Chicken and Rice casserole. It was too easy!

All I had to do was cook it and make some side and rolls!! And I knew it would be good because I hadn't actually profaned it in any way with my own cooking!! So, remembering the article, I popped that bad boy out of its plastic baking dish and into a glass one of mine.

Presto! The stuff of legend.

no-iffer: the recipe is Wal-Mart frozen food section. Stouffer's casserole!!

How funny!! I am glad you liked it, but I cannot take any of the credit...

(unless being sneaky is good, in that case, I'm a rockstar)

recipe exchange.

To those of you who were so kind to send me the recipe exchange:
I'm sorry.
I will not be taking part in the recipe exchange.
Not because I wouldn't love to get some great recipes, but because I am not a great cook.
I am not even a good cook.
It's not that I couldn't someday be a great cook, it's just not that important to me.
A long time ago, at the beginning of my marriage - I realized that my husband eats at a great restaurant every day and no matter what I cook, it will never measure up. Then I had kids.
They hate everything - except tomatoes, celery, goldfish crackers, grapes, yogurt, chicken nuggets, apples, and grilled cheese.
I make the world's best grilled cheese.
Otherwise, my recipe bank is empty.
Love you.
I don't love to cook.
Sorry....

mindless chatter.

this is me wishing i had something worthwhile to blog about.
i got nothing.
isn't it strange that when you have EVERYTHING going on, you cannot find anything to say?
i simply could not wrangle one single line of thoughts for a long enough time period to blog tonight.

the kids and i went to 2 really fun birthday parties today. happy, happy birthday little Z-man!

i have a zit that is so incredible and has been with me for so long that i have decided to name it:
meet 'the hunchback.' it's not on my back but it creates such an unnatural angle on my face that it obscures my vision. some zit, you say. yeah, some zit. i would be telling lies if i told you i had not thought about calling in sick to work when it reared it's ugly head.

i need to plan little A's birthday party.

last night, J said my gravy was better than sugar. he also said he would never need to eat candy again because my gravy was so good. this morning he asked for candy. i offered him gravy. he declined...

i need to find the time to:
pot plants for the fall, weed my flower bed, finish painting a 4 foot section of my dining room, buy stamps, finish moving into our house so i can donate boxes to a worthy cause, make an insurance claim before it's too late, STUDY for my ridiculous Excet exam that i should have taken like 6 years ago.

did anyone pick up a black 3-ring binder at the retreat with music in it?
it's probably mine. all i need out of it is the kiddie music for work - the rest you can have...
please tell me that someone has it... you're my only hope...

cowboys kick off at noon. somebody tell pastor.

The (ahem) haircut.

J. cut his hair at school on Thursday.
Just a hearty snip right in the front after he finished a project that everyone else was still working on.
He works faster than all his classmates, which is reason #1184 that we call him "turbo,"
so he has been having a lot of free time in his class.
Idle hands are truly the work of the devil.
He decided he needed a trim.
It wasn't terribly noticeable... the kid has boo-koos of hair, just a little snip was not gonna change his overall look.
But he said the reason he did it was because his hair was 'too long'.
I thought "a little prevention goes a long way" so I decided to give him a haircut for reals...
Maybe with his new shorter 'do it would balance out the whack he made to his scalp in that little spot.

I said all this to say, as I buzzed off layer upon layer of hair, the snip became more and more noticeable.
I should have left it longer so it could have covered the chunk of missing hair.
Now it just looks like ringworms or something.

he's still very dashing though.
what a brat!

Remember When?

Remember when life's worst disappointment was when your parent's forgot to take you to the park after they promised?

Remember when "growing food" was a good thing?

Remember when a catastrophe could be summed up as dropping your ice cream cone, scoop-side down?

Remember when the most sinister thing you could conjure was the 'boogey man?'

Remember when you were cool because your momma told you so?

Remember when all you had to do in the bathtub was splash around while somebody else scrubbed you down and rinsed you off?

Remember when your biggest worry in life was whenever 'your father got home?'

Remember when there was nothing as simply wonderful as the mention of your next birthday?

Remember when Christmas morning was sugar-plum fairies and candy canes, not credit cards and choking hazards?

Remember when a $2 clearance back pack was all it took to make your mom the coolest cat around?

I am so blessed! These are not distant memories for me. They are everyday occurrences.

I love, love, love being a mommy! It's a second chance at savoring everything!

calling all doctors...

Fit as a fiddle.
That is exactly how I felt when I woke up this morning.
Throughout the day, I started to have a scratchy throat.
At Wal-Mart, while I shopped for groceries, I began to feel jet-lagged...
Around the time the voice lesson I was giving was over, I would almost swear that someone kicked me in the throat and the head, simultaneously. Repeatedly.
I have swallowed approximately 428 rocks since then - large, jagged rocks.

Suffice it to say, it is entirely possible that by bedtime tonight, I'll be needing paddles...

I won't be making it to church tonight.
La, tell Julia I am sorry.
The kids are sad.
I feel terrible about that.
I just feel more terrible physically than I feel bad about not taking them...

My hot mechanic.

So my car wouldn't start...
It was the perfect start to my day yesterday.

I thought to myself - 'ok, so your car won't start...
All you have to do is unload 2 kids, 2 carseats, 2 lunchboxes, a guitar, and your 2 school bags... in less than 45 seconds, wake up your hunny, hope he's not grumpy, get everything loaded into his car, and you're off...'
See?

NO BIG DEAL.

My car wouldn't start.
The looming thoughts that occur when that happens...
You tend to see $800 invoices floating around in thin air on the days when your car won't start.
You begin thinking about all the phantom things that might be wrong with your car, which, for some reason, has become a bit more of a family member than you realized...

So here's where my story deviates from the usual story line -
My husband fixed it!
All by himself!
I didn't have to spend $800 on a piddely little thing.
He figured it out, fixed it, and I am back in action.

Big hottie in a minivan...
Woo-Hoo!!!



Thanks Babe!
You're amazing!

Hanging Out.

You must be joking.

That is what I kept thinking to myself as I walked into my son's room today and found 'the tragedy.'

It was actually a tragedy in 3 acts.

It was the kind of thing that when you are as dreadfully behind on everything in your house as I am - the scene I stumbled upon evoked a certain calm and at once hysterical yet frightening chuckle...

You are familiar, right?

The kid was mortified!

Act 1 - He had decided that he needed to take every stitch of clothing out of his closet, most of it off the hangers, and into a pile on the floor.

Act 2 involved swinging from the closet bar.

Act 3 - He was inspired by some of the Superman Garb in his closet and felt that he needed to clothe Superman in Superman attire... naturally...

I took a few moments, gathered my wits, returned with a camera, and proceeded to 'encourage' him to re-hang his clothes.

He was unmotivated by my repeated urging.

He then, in a final act of desperation, decided that our house needed a splash of color. In every room.

What better way to add color to a room than to walk in with armfuls of clothes and strew them about?

I was ecstatic!

This is it!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

This is the day that you were born 30 years ago!
Your life, a gift from God above, has touched my own life so.
You represent the beautiful things a Christian's heart should hold.
My love for you, a flame lit and burns, will never, not ever grow cold.

How can I speak of this wonderful day when you came into this world,
And not say that although walking was hard :) you arrived and you have soared?
Your life emanates a graciousness and an acceptance that is so pure
Along life's path, in these 30 years, you've helped God minister and cure

Those one's of us, who find it hard to become what we were meant,
Beyond a doubt, I know today that's the reason YOU were sent.
You've been so sturdy and supportive in whatever season we've been through
You've been a faithful and constant friend, disregarding mismatched shoes!

Bringing glory to God's name, your years upon this earth...
I know God looks upon you and is proud on the day of your birth.
But not this day specifically, a day more marked in time-
is the day you gave your heart to Him and rang the heavenly chime.

A celestial party like none has ever seen was going on that day
For you, a child of the Most High, who would seek after His Ways
Your birth into His kingdom, as significant as your birth here on earth
Happy Birthday, beautiful Lover of God, May you truly feel your worth!


I love you Shannon!
Happy Birthday!
30 30 30 30 30 30 30 30 30 30 30 30 30 30 30 30 30 30 30

Ha!

We're Back!
And just for the record,
I had a better time than anyone else there.
It was so good!
God was so good!
I think we all needed that special time to bask in the Presence of the Almighty!
What a truly wonderful gift it was!
To the precious women who worked so hard to put that monumental and seamless product of a retreat together - I am indebted AND SO GRATEFUL!
To my Lord, Who showed up in an awesome way- Tenderly tending His flock, while smiling back into our tearful eyes as we poured tears from our alabaster jars upon His feet...
It was pure.

To partake of a moment in His presence, I would give myself over completely.

I learned that my worship must first move me, to move my God.

I got to love on and be loved on by so many of His precious daughters, His princesses...

I was able to spend a beautiful weekend with my dearest La, who has forever imprinted her perfume on this heart of mine.
I love your smell, the scent of your life envelops us all.
Your grace, your acceptance, your humor, your wit and wisdom, your purity, your passion for your King...
You have been God's gift to me.
Your example and heart of servanthood chisels away at any hardness or unwillingness inside me to do the work of my Father.
Although you are, as you would proudly proclaim, several months my junior, you have been used in my life and many other lives as a mentor and fragrant expression of woman, mother, and friend.
As a result, my life has been touched in a way that an aroma of you will linger.
You will always be my friend. I love you with a love that distance cannot extinguish.

My Heavenly Father, Orchestral Maestro, Hanger of the stars, and Sculptor of the moon - You have been, in my mind, an untouchable entity. Although I have long known of Your unharnessed compassion for my soul and Your unrelenting desire to know me as Lord and friend,

I have been unable to accept Your acceptance.

I have indicted myself as unacceptable in Your sight for so long. I have felt unworthy to wipe my feet on the mat outside Your Outer Court. Far less fathomable to me, would be to invite myself into Your Holy Place...

but You are so approachable.

I am sorry for not approaching You with bold and unhurried worship.


I learned this weekend -

* To accept the fact that I am acceptable.

* To embrace my brokenness as a work that is always being spun into something new and better by a Loving Potter,

* That a willingness to avail myself to God is, understandably, a requirement for forward movement in this earthly life.

* A vulnerability that allows my Groom access to my secret place, to rearrange every nook and cranny of even the deepest recesses inside my heart,

* That He, in His vastness, can and will hold me close to His chest, to shield and overshadow me, as a loving Father eagerly anticipates my next wobbly step.

How much love He has for His own!

What a beautiful time with my Lord!