A Joshua Kind of Dad

My husband is a Joshua leader. Which is funny, because he also shares his name with Joshua from the Bible.

When I met Josh, he was not very versed in the Bible, and to be honest I was not either. But, I at least knew some basic Bible stories that my Josh did not. So when my husband dedicated his life to Jesus and began to serve more, he curiously asked me one night who the Joshua of the Bible was because he wanted to know the origins of his name. I still have the email I sent to him one day referencing this site. I told him that his name means "God Saves" and is related to the name Jesus (Yeshua-Joshua). But beyond that information, I still didnt really know what or who his name was a tribute to.

Funny, I have several things in my home that have this verse on them:

But as for me and my House, we will serve the Lord. Joshua 24:15

This year, as I've mentioned before, I studied the life of Moses in BSF. And here's what I know now of Joshua. Joshua was a young man who had enormous faith at an early age. He demonstrated courage against the crowd during a moment of truth before the first attempt at entering the promiseland. And though in his life he made mistakes, God continued to work in him. Because of his great faith and trust, God appointed Joshua as leader to the Israelites after Moses died. Great faith in God first, earns great responsibility and the priveledge to do great works.

This past weekend was Father's Day and I recieved a devotional that talks about having a Joshua 24:15 dad. And as I read it, I realized what a coincidence and blessing that I am married to a "Joshua man".

I'm so blessed that my Josh lives out similar principals to the Joshua of the Bible. He gives up many things in his life to trust in the Lord. He is patient with me and the girls when we're not easy to lead. He makes mistakes, certainly. But his priorities are fixed on God first, and himself later.
He is a model of the Joshua 24:15 verse, placing service and attendance in our church above other things in our house. He has turned down careers that take away from his time in serving the church, and our daughters have heard, "You are expected to attend church on Sunday, no excuses" more than once. His leadership is both godly and compassionate and he's not afraid to go against the crowd when it comes to popularity.

I sent Josh a note thanking him for being this kind of leader in our home.Have you thanked the Fathers in your life for being great leaders this week?

My own dad has a stone plaque in his office that has remained with him as long as I can remember. It says "Any man can be a dad, but it takes a great man to be a Father" Semantics aside, the quote speaks to the fact that it takes more than just a physically able body- to be a great leader to a family. It takes a man led by God to Father a family the way our heavenly Father does.

I love you Josh Harris and I'll follow if you promise to lead.
.
.

Disco

We had a kind of rough weekend, capped off with a totally sad morning today.
Poor doggie, I took her this morning to the vet to be put to sleep.

She had not eaten for the last week and has lost almost half her body weight. The last three days, she has barely been able to get up off the floor, and has thrown up almost every time she gets up. She was unable to even keep water down anymore the last two nights. So last night we put up some baracades to the kitchen to keep her in there because even though she is weak she still tries to come upstairs to lie by our bed at night. This time, she didn’t even lift her head up off the floor. Her poor bony ribs are sticking out, and you can see them, and she wont hardly look us in the face. So sad how quickly she progressed from pretty good, to downright debilitated.

So this morning, I got up and went downstairs (knowing we were going to take her) and I laid beside her on the floor and talked with her. (I know…like Marley and Me. ) I thought it was kind of silly, but I wanted to give her some love. Then I woke the girls up to talk with her before I took her at 8:30. They came down, sat with her. Jyllie made her a card and asked me to put it in her grave with her (at the dr. office, which I didnt have the heart to explain to her)
The card said.
Dear Disco, you are my favorite dog. I hope you are my only dog. You are #1 and there is no other dog like you. I hope you have a good time in heaven. Jesus is nice. I love you forever and ever. Love Jyllian.
And she drew a picture of her and Disco together.

I read it to the dog while the girls pet her, both of them crying.
Then Jada helped me carry her on a ‘stretcher’ to the car. They stayed home while I drove up there.

I’m not typically a gushy person. I love dogs, but I feel like they are …dogs and when the time comes, it’s time. I've even been a vet tech and helped put many dogs to sleep before. I'm very no nonsense about it, so I didnt think this would be so bad. I even kind of felt sad that I couldn’t muster up a tear on the way there.
But I did talk to her, and sang Jesus loves the Little Doggies (seriously) to her on the way. When we got there, I went inside and asked if one of the nurses would come help me.

When I went to open the tailgate to the car…and saw her, I BURST into tears sobbing away, and I didn’t stop until I left the office. I cried bringing her in, setting her on the floor of the office, holding her head as she slipped to sleep.
And I cried and cried all the way home.

I couldnt believe how sad I was about the whole thing. She had been our family pet for almost 15 years though. I picked her up at the airport, the first day she came to live with us, all cute and 6 months old. She sat on my lap for the 2 hour car ride home in North Carolina. We stayed up all night together eating, drinking and bounding around the living room. And here I was at the end with her, holding her head and rubbing her paw. It was difficult. I didnt want to leave her there.

When I finally got up to leave, I walked still sobbing into the lobby where God
did a really awesome thing for me. There was a friend of mine from BSF in the standing at the check in desk. When she saw me, she walked over and gave me a big hug. It felt good to have a fried hug me, and I cried even more. After I hugged her, I started to walk away, then came back and hugged her again and said “I’m so glad you were here” which made her cry I think.

She was a good dog.
Best dog I ever had.
Disco Dog.

Observant Little Eyes

A few weeks ago, while driving to the store, my daughter gave me some good advice.

"We shouldn't hold a Sharpie marker up to our nose and sniff it for a long time, b/c we might die."

Good advice, I told her. I'll keep that in mind.

When we got to the store, among other things, I picked out a bottle of wine, and my little thinker provided some more free advice.

"Mom, drugs are bad."
"Yep, they are." I said.
"Mom, alcohol is a drug."

I could see where this was going.
"mmmhmmm" I murmered

"Mom, isn't wine...alcohol?"

I couldn't come up with a great response, other than "Did you know that caffeine is also a drug, and soda has caffeine in it too" This response seemed to hush her up.

But I then followed up with "in the hands of a responsible adult, alcohol is okay to drink in small amounts-but not until you're older, much older...like 40".
Which still was not great, but it was a good reminder that my kids see everything I do.

And to come up with better answers, when they ask.

For Sale, Make Offer

My husband drives, what I would classify as the biggest eyesore known to the HOA.

The HOA is the Home Owner's Association that governs what we can or cannot do with our house being that it's part of a nice neighborhood. For example, we cannot leave our garbage can out on the curb longer than 13 minutes after we get home from work on trash day. My daughters cannot make chalk drawings on the sidewalk, as these are apparently offensive to passers-by who are interested in....I dunno- sidewalk cleanlieness. And there are other useless rules that are governed by this particularly annoying association who have nothing better to do than snoop through your backyard, complaining of unmowed grass or dead Christmas trees that still have not yet been brought out to the curb by February! (FOR CRYING OUT LOUD....it's not hurting anyone!!)

But, in this one area- we do agree, my husband's truck is just plain unsightly. However, they have not come up with any rule yet on why we have to get rid of it. (sigh)

It wouldn't be such a problem if I could just let him keep what is his and I keep what is mine. But sometimes there is a need for me to drive his horrible beast while giving up my precious mom mobile to him. I hate this for two reasons. One- he "yuckies up" my car with the smell of cigarette smoke and empty bottles of Dr. Pepper that roll around just out of reach of your hand while driving. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to be reaching around on the floor for an empty bottle, while trying to put on makeup?! It's almost impossible!!
And TWO- I have to drive his scary truck that has no inside paneling on the doors, the aforementioned Dr. Pepper bottles, no radio and to start the thing, one must reach down and grab a handful of wires under the steering column, then turn the ignition (this is scary for me, reminiscent of when you play the game Operation and someone next to you yells ZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTT!). Not to mention that it's just embarrassing to be SEEN in it.

Case in point...

Yesterday I took Jada to school in the truck. Josh was almost out of gas, so to "save money" he requested that I drive the shorter distance in it.
As Jada and I sat in the monster truck I realized I'd left my glasses inside and I ran back in to get them while she waited in the running truck. When I came back out, she had hunched down in the seat.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
She told me that a classmate rode by on her bike, saw Jada in the passenger side of the truck and with a worried look on her face glanced at the truck, then at the house, and back at the truck. She then edged a little closer, looked at Jada through the smeary non-working windows and finally mouthed the words "ARE YOU O-K?"

Apparently, seeing a child sitting in a big ugly truck such as this...meant a kidnapper had gotten ahold of her. Jada was mortified.

I was just happy that she knew kids nice enough to care for her safety.

When I Was a Kid

I am the only biological child between my dad and my mom, however both my dad and mom have remarried and had half children (well, not half children, that would be weird) what I mean is they've had children who are half siblings to me.Aaron, my brother on my mom's side has recently come to live with us. He's a great kid, funny and incredibly gifted in conversation.

I was 16 when Aaron was born, and because I was pretty young when my daughter was born, he's only 3 years older than her. Yet even so, he's convinced that he and I are from the same generation. I thought I'd just spend a little time on nostalgia lane with you, on why he and I are not from the same generation.

1. I did not have the internet or cell phones when I was in highschool. If I wanted to be really sneaky about talking to a boy late at night, I would have to run around and turn off all the phone ringers in our house and wait until my "swatch watch" phone lit up to see a caller calling. Swatch watch phones were so cool because it had two handsets to speak into...thus you could talk WITH your friend on the same line to the same person, instead of sharing the same receiver. This made prank calling much easier. (we also did not have caller id, until I was in highschool)

2. There were no "Cartoons all day" channels on TV when I was a kid, except for Nickelodeon which ran Pinwheel for about 16 hours a day, which was sort of okay to watch if you were into puppets. The real treat happened during the holidays, when you got to watch Charlie Brown cartoons at night!! And if you wanted to change the channel, you would need to use the kind that had a limited distance cord and punch buttons that looked like blender controls. You could stretch it all the way across the floor to the couch most of the time, but the cord would always get tangled, and it looked really unslightly all wadded up on the coffee table. And while it was stretched out, people would trip on it and it would go flying, and hit your mom's crystal vase and break it and you would yell "STUPID!" to your little brother for not watching where he was going!!

(Speaking of remote controls, I remember the first time we got one for our VCR. We had wood floors and my mom was so concerned that it was going to break if it got dropped, that she actually took a VCR tape box, stuffed with styrofoam, then cut an opening in it for the channel changer to fit into. No kidding, ask her.)

3. TV shows consisted primarly of funny shows about families. Fictitious shows about fictitous families who did funny things. The Cosby's, ThirtySomething, Life Goes On, Family Ties, Cheers, Alf, Roseanne, Who's the Boss....

Now TV is all reality shows and gameshows. It's hard to find a family program that's about anything but that...

Aaron typically scoffs at these suggestions, but it's true- hard to believe that I can remember getting my first CD, VCR, and microwave. I remember video stores before Blockbuster, I can remember when water was not sold in vending machines. I, myself, owned a black and white little tv with one antenae in my room, and I remember having a phone with a really long cord that you could skip rope with, while someone else was talking.

So while we share similar tastes in some music, my dear brother Aaron....we are not, sadly from the same generation. ;o)

Do Fun.

I like, no…I love to laugh. Big belly laughs that eventually bring tears to my eyes. It’s kind of an addiction in fact. If I find a comedian that really makes me laugh, I’ll stop at nothing to see everything he/she has ever said. In college I use to rent videos of a certain comedian that was always so funny. One of his random jokes was “You ever notice that mice have no shoulders? You put a necklace on a mouse, it slides right down to his waist and he thinks it’s a belt. What does he care, he’s a mouse!”

But I’m older now and so is this comedian who is way too political to be funny not to mention that I’m more sensitive to the numerous F-bombs he uses too. But still, I am always on the hunt for people who can make me laugh out loud like he once did.

My daughter shares the same sense of humor and appreciation of a good laugh too. It’s comforting to have someone else that laughs hard enough to make you choke, when you are around people who are just snicker-ers. Recently we discovered a Christian comedian, Tim Hawkins and was offered the chance to see him live. What a treat. He is so funny, and clean! His humor ranges from over the top loud and crazy to genius song writer (b/c he makes up- new words to well known songs. My favorite is Hey There Delilah – a song about Samson’s wife. Check it out on GodTube.com) We purchased a video by him and our family has seen it so often that we use his punch lines as our own.

Jada and I are so desperate for a laugh, that one day we invented our own brand of fun. A nice little game we like to call Kid Tap© (yes, that’s a copyright logo…b/c I think after writing about this game, that it might take off, like Duck-Duck-Goose, or the Telephone game. No one knows who invented those games.)

Kid Tap© is a game born out of a cheap day at the mall with my girls. I was looking for an indoor activity to do one Saturday, and since the girls had not seen the Galleria Mall, took them there to do some window shopping. We stopped in the weird “foreign” stores to see fountains spewing dry ice smoke, curly bamboo stuffed into odd shaped pots, and little statues of fat men. We also pointed out funny skaters on the ice rink below, and spent a few frantic minutes in the American Girl store oogling all the miniature items for dolls that will never use them. All in all, it was a fun day- for free!

On the way back to the car, we passed the kid area where several hundred sock-footed kids were clinging to huge shiny plastic replicas of jungle caves, trees and animals. I heard Jada groan, as I said yes to Jyllian’s plea to play, while she pulled off both shoes and bounded across the foamy floor into the mix of kids. Jada and I took a spot on the squishy long bench that encircles the toy area. At first we just watched the kids, and laughed at several who were climbing up a large palm tree in the center. We then began to take bets on who would reach the top. This then turned into bets of other random happenings.

“I got $50 bucks that little round head boy in red will get knocked over and cry within 2 minutes.” (hey...DON’T JUDGE ME! I didn't knock him over. But he did cry. )

And after several kids ran by knocking into our knees and stepping on our feet- Born was the great idea that became a fun game for all:

“Hey, let’s see how many kids you can tap, running by. For every kid you ‘tap’ you get a point. Ready- Go!”

And then every kid that ran by, we took delight in sticking out our foot to "tap" them as they breezed by, running full speed. The game is challenging- b/c #1 you can’t actually TRIP the kid…that’s just mean and not our goal (besides, parents don’t like to see other adults doing that to their kids.) #2. It’s weird to see another adult trying to “tap” your kid. So it has to be a sneaky game. And #3 kids are a little surprised by it too, but that's what makes it funny.

At one point the score was 4 -2, Jada winning when a small kid who had probably stepped on my foot 3-4 times already…stood right in front of me. I got so excited at scoring…that I tapped him a little too hard with my foot…and he turned around and looked at me with a face that made us bury our faces in our hands and howl with laughter- tears streaming down both our cheeks. At this a few others started to notice. But no one said anything….so we continued to add rules.

5 points if you tap an adult, 4 points if you tap a child on the head, no one can tap the same kid more than twice.

Finally, Jyllian tired of the play area- and we were ready to leave. She noticed that Jada and I seemed to be having way too much fun, and asked what in the world were we doing. I casually explained the game to her, through snorts and laughs while I put her shoes back on her feet. Then we stood up and Jada said “okay, tie breaker on the way out.”

Jyllian quickly stood up and ran around tapping all the kids heads in the area on the way to the door, which no one paid any attention to, b/c she was just another wild kid like the rest of them. Cheater.

When we were on our way to the car, Jada grabbed my arm and said "Oh my gosh mom, that was the most fun I've had in a long time! I can't wait to tell my friends, we are so funny! I'm glad we came here today!"

Some might raise an eyebrow and suggest "that I contemplate what I am teaching my own children by inventing such games that exploit the slightly non-PC treatment of other young children." And to that I would say,

"Ah Lighten up! You're no fun!"

I Am

Okay, I know it. My blogs tend to be long-winded stories and it's possible that most people just don't care to read that much about me. I've noticed that many more people are brief, concise, and to the point (is that redundant?) I'll try to adopt this practice, not all the time, but a little more often at least.

The other day I listed out all the things I am currently, just to see it all in front of me in black and white. It was a good exercise, I recommend it to everyone.

I am a:

Mom, Best Friend, Girl Scout Leader, Sister, Church Group Media Coordinator, JCPenney Administrative Assistant, Daughter, Aunt, Cousin, Amateur Photographer, Nursery Volunteer, Christian, Student, Grandchild, and a Wife.

Your list may be longer or shorter than mine, the comparison is not the point.

I think the exercise is just a good indicator to ourselves to either say

"Wow, I'm doing way too much!" or "Is my life making any difference for anyone else?"

One thing I've noticed as an indicator in the Christian life is best summed up by a quote I heard; "Are other people better or worse because their lives bumped into yours?"

Celebrating Freedom, Again.

Again this year, the girls and I attempted the Celebrate Freedom concert.
So far, our track record is not good with the concert. Let me recap for you;
Year #1- Jada and I collapsed in heat exhaustion together on the way to the medical tent.
Two ladies let us stop under their vendor awning to stand in front of their coveted AC unit.

Year #2- The mud year. Please reference the quite humorous story on my blog here.

So this year it was going to be different. This year they changed venues, from SouthFork Ranch to Pizza Hut park in Frisco. It sounded like it could be better. Convenient parking, indoor restrooms, no mud.
Yet when we got there, I could see it was not going to be as nicey-nicey as I had imagined. Texas is just NOT a place to hold outdoor all day concerts. Spending time outdoors in the summer between 11-5pm is like risking your life in the Mohave Desert.
People were dropping like flies all over. The trade offs for the above benefits, were compromised by the below negatives:
No outdoor drinks of any kind (ie water) could be brought in at all, and PizzaHut park charged $3 a bottle. Talk about capitalizing on the poor- by 2:00 the girls and I had spent $60 and had 5 more hours without water to go.
Instead of sitting in the grass, we sat on interlocking white plastic Legos which covered the grass. It was weird and not relaxing, I like sitting in the grass. I hate baking on a plastic Lego.
You couldn't see the screens b/c they were not very big, and there was tons of stuff in the way. So basically it was like listening to a loud radio.
Once again, I brought the pop-up shade..(you HAVE to! I cannot imagine sitting in a reflecting bowl with no cover at all.) But the only way to get to the field is down the steep inclined steps. Which I’ll admit is tough enough. The entire handle ripped off the shade when I brought it in. It took me almost 45 minutes to get the 100lb. thing in. But I did not even consider what it would take to haul that shade back out at 2:00 in the afternoon “Death Sun”. To haul a 100lb shade, up the enormous incline of steps, behind 50 people, with no handle at 100 degrees…took an hour. I had stop about every 20 steps just to catch my breath.
Parking was $15.

I love the radio station that does this concert, and I love the concert itself. There’s just something about singing/worshipping alongside other Christians that you’ve never met before that bring such an incredible experience, and it’s what brings me back every year to try it again.
Next year though, I wish they would consider moving it to an inside venue. Or having 4th of July in November.

Revolve and Barter.

I think my daughter and I are going to attend this, this weekend.
The 2007 Revolve Tour
Check it out if you have a teen/tween girl!


I find it really cool, that they have opportunities to earn the cost of your ticket as a volunteer!
Move boxes one afternoon- get free tickets to attend. Very cool!

I wish more places could put this bartering-type payment into practice.

Dust all the shelves in the grocery store one morning- get half your grocery bill for free.
Wash 5-6 coffee pots out - get your morning Starbucks for free.
Pick up all the trash around the gas station bathroom- get your gas for free??

Hmmm...maybe not every place should adopt the practice.
Some things I think I would rather just pay cash for.

Tale of a Young GCC Family

So generally speaking...

Blogger-Anonymity is what appeals to some people about blogging. I think it’s this false sense of security that compells some people to share their most private and secret thoughts with the world and then ironically expect their readers to leave feedback-comments about them.

I might also fall victim to this, except that my picture is posted on my front page therefore keeping me honest and accountable for anything I will say here. (This is the same reason I have an icthus on the back of my SUV - to keep me from swearing or behaving badly towards other drivers. Try it, it works!)
If I do offend anyone, my only hope is that when you see me at church you won't recognize the much less RED version of me.

But just in case you do, I’ve decided to change the names in the following story to protect the innocent and prevent any further embarrassed or discomfort. I've also embellished in some areas, to further detract from your ability to guess who the story really refers to. Please refrain from speculation about who these people are. It's just a story, based slightly on actual events. Enjoy.

Some time ago, a young family attended a church for the first time. They were in the midst of some hardships and decided that church is where they needed to be in order to find help. Upon visiting for the first time they fall deeply in love with the church and its quirky yet incredibly gifted speaker, Pastor Forge. (Remember NO GUESSING- this is just a story!) Pastor Forge was different from any pastor the young family had ever heard before. He wore a hula skirt on stage, which oddly enough, had absolutely no effect on what he said or how he spoke it.

On the contrary, he had a way of speaking to his congregation of several thousand (this is my story, where, yes, there were several thousand) as if he were speaking directly to each member alone. "That was a really great service" said the lady to the husband on the car ride home. "I was JUST wrestling with that very problem" said the man. The young couple began to bring other friends and families with them to church, just to hear the captivating Pastor Forge speak. Week after week new messages were received by this young family and eventually their trials and tribulations resulted in praise and joy as refinement of their faith resulted.
(1 Peter 1:7)

The young family continued to attend through that year while the church began to grow in leaps and bounds, continually refreshing and satisfying the needs and spirits of this young family. (Proverbs 16:15) After a few months of attending, the family decided to attend a Saturday night service, where a self described “Astute, Humorous, and Good Looking” pastor had just begun teaching a new worship service. (I think a fictitious name might actually give away this man's identity) The new Saturday night service was called “Just starting Out- Village”.
(okay, I know that's a stretch...but sometimes there just aren’t enough synonyms for some words)

The family grew very fond of this pastor’s teaching style. He blended the perfect amount of theology, history, and life into lessons that the family grew to rely on.
One sermon he gave a very in-depth study sermon regarding a personal testimony that was both moving and stirring in the hearts of this young family.
Read that sermon here
The young mom turned to her husband and tearfully whispered “I really like this pastor, he is so heartfelt and sincere. You can feel his passion and loving spirit conveyed with every sermon he gives.” and the young dad turned to his wife and spoke “I like him too. His style is such that you can feel his love for each of us in this congregation with every word he speaks. Truly, Teaching, is this man’s spiritual gift” (Ephesians 4:11-13) and so the two left with an enthusiasm for learning about the bible and Jesus, more than they had ever had before. Month after month the family would alternate Sundays and Saturday services, flexing with the schedule that the father worked.

As time marched on, the family went through several more trials and tests of their faith. Sadly, worldly distractions separated the family from unity and devotion to their church. (1 Peter 2:11) Several years were lost for the family during this time. The children of the young family started to grow and change and the young parents were faced with new challenges of their own.
“I’m too tired to go to church” the father would say after working many hours.
“I just don’t have time anymore and I’m disappointed with how snooty some of the people at the church are!” said the mother. “besides, I can just read the bible on my own. I really don’t need to attend church to get that.”
And so living as “Lone Ranger Christians” (as a famous pastor once put it) became their way of life for awhile.

But God, of course, is not satisfied with his flock when one wanders away (Matthew 18:12) and He planted a seed that would lead to a complete redirection shift in this young family’s life again.

Late one afternoon the young lady’s phone rang.
“Why HELLO!” she greeted her friend Leanne. “I would love to help you with your new ministry group!” she said to her, and later that week they met for coffee to discuss Leanne’s vision for a new women's ministry called “Tea Chat”. The group would meet once a month at the church and help connect the women of the church while building fellowship between them all as well. The young mom begin to really take an active interest in this group. This chance encounter started a sequence of events that led to the young lady’s complete overflow of the Holy Spirit within her. (Luke 3:16) She was overjoyed so much in the following months, that she continued to spend night after night and morning after morning in bible study and prayer. She prayed aloud for the first time in a group setting and she began to feel comfort and confidence in Christ in a way that she never had before. She listened to sermons from her two favorite pastors online. She devoted time to loving and serving with the members of their church, rather than worrying about her frustrations over them. (1 Corin.13)

When her husband saw these changes in her, (1 Peter 3:1) her newfound devotion and stories of God’s wisdom that she was receiving, he too was won over and begin to change as well. Even the children were encouraged to spend time alone with God each day in bible study, the oldest daughter started with her mom a 41 day study- recommended by their pastor and church. (the title is not really important) Life, for this family, became Purpose Driven again.

And to this day the young family lives happily ever after, thanks in part to a church that nourished them all the days of their lives. (Psalms 27:4) Though they still face trials, disappointments, and suffering, now they are faithful, obedient, and hopeful because they know what their future holds in Christ. (Ephesians 1:12)

The End.

The Day that Pepper Died.

Yesterday Jada’s hamster, Pepper, died.
We committed his body to the trash. Ashes to trashes. Dust to Dump.
(is that sacrilegious to say of a rodent?)

I’d love to say that we had a moment for him, but we didn’t. Instead I stood there looking into the reddened eyes of my big 12 year old who was crying like she’d lost her best friend. I felt somewhat irritated at first, wanting to remind her that she never cared about him before. And then I thought back to the first day we brought the little hamster home.

The day after we brought Pepper home with us, I noticed that she had a lame hind foot. “Oh Great” I thought, this silly thing is going to die in a week. When I asked Jada if we should take Pepper back for an ‘exchange’ she held fast to the little ball of fluff and said “No! We need to give her a chance to live mom!” And so Pepper walked on 3 legs and kind of pushed with the other. We were this hamster’s saving grace. Accepting her the way she was. It was endearing, for awhile.

Then, I remembered the day that Jada found out that Pepper was a boy, in a way that is a bit too graphic to repeat here. I believe her exact reaction was much the same as it was yesterday-crying hysterically. After that she lost all interest in Pepper. She had to be reminded to clean his cage, change his water, and feed him. Frequently I did most of the care taking. Pepper had become...a chore. He would get out of his cage and Josh and I would spend hours trying to find that little ticking stink bomb before he got into the walls and died or something. He ran in his clattery wheel at night waking up the whole house as all the food he stored in it during the daytime would chickerey-chat around over and over like loose change in the dryer. “What IS the life expectancy of a hamster?” We’d always ask each other.

It was this very thought I was thinking as I continued to search Jada’s so sad face now.
But instead of spending this moment arguing about her odd reaction to things that didn’t matter now, I hugged my daughter tight and felt grateful that she has such an compassionate heart, a trait that isn’t so common these days.
And as I hugged her, behind her back... my husband and I traded a “thumbs up" and a grin.

Celebrate Freedom From The Mud

My family and I love the Celebrate Freedom Concert. However this year there was less celebrating than there should have been for us. In retrospect, as all things are, it’s funny now and definitely blog-worthy.

Saturday morning, we got up around 9:30 to load up and hit Celebrate Freedom. There were a few things we had to stop for “on the way” food/snacks at Tom Thumb, McDonalds for quick lunch, and Sports Authority for crocks for Jyllie and a Tarp to sit on. Then to the bank to get cash for parking. Finally we arrived at the concert. They were not allowing parking in the usual close spot so we had to park ½ mile down the road at someone’s private “yard” that was selling parking. I say "yard", but it was not a yard, because a yard has grass in it. This was a mud pit. Some little kid directs us to park way in the back, by the drop off. UH UH! I told Josh. “We’re parking up there” I pointed, “Close to the exit”. At my urging, Josh pulls up forward and park at the end of another row of cars. The little kid shrugs his shoulders. I wonder if he feels like he’s not done his job directing.

Everyone jumps out of the car and divvies up loads to carry. Josh carries the 50 lb. pop up shade. I carried 3 pack chairs, all the food, the tarp, and a wool blanket. Jada carries two chairs. And Jyllie cries all the way there about the bugs, her new shoes hurting her feet, and how far it was to walk. Despite tense circumstances, I was able to keep my sanity and begged others to do the same. We finally get in after 30 VERY LONG minutes of trekking.
I felt like we were nomads. I felt like people of the bible walking to the nearest town for the census. It was crazy. And as we finally get to the concert, we plop down in an area that was the closest- relatively non muddy area we got to. It was mostly mushy grass. I took great care in spreading out the tarp, and instructed the girls to only step on the tarp with bare feet or socks. “Please leave muddy shoes on the outside edges of the tarp girls.”
We settle down in our chairs and everyone is feeling great.
We’re passing around food, and marveling at the sounds of the bands. It’s awesome, only...we can’t see anything. After an hour of relaxing, I decide to take Jyllie around on my back to scout the area.

At this concert there’s a dividing line between where you can sit very close on chairs or blankets...and where you can put up tents/pop shades, etc. The closer parts this year are huge mountains of mud. There are little kids sitting on pack chairs on a rift of mud I notice. I’m thankful to be sitting further back under our shade this year. The weather is actually cool. Not too hot and Jyllie and I continue to hike around being very careful to only step on the high parts, because I REALLY hate moist socks in squishy shoes. Hate that more than anything.
Hopefully by now you’re catching the emphasis I have placed on being very careful to stay clean, despite sitting amidst a pool of stinky, cow poop smelling mud and muddy water. Yeah, my efforts were working. So far.

Jyllie and I find a much, much closer area with access to see the jumbo-tron screen right in front of it. I phone Josh and encourage him to move. He is reluctant. We do move, but regret it right away. Un-noticed before is a small mud puddle right next to our tarp and from here on out, every person that walks by steps right into it splashing waves of muddy spray onto us. This is not fun, but it’s not awful either. Oh well, I can just wash our clothes. I happily resolve to enjoy the music and new found ability to see who is singing.
Then...it happens.
Looking out to the horizon we see gargantuan black monsoon clouds.
“We’ll be fine..we’re under this nice shade.” I foolishly think to myself.
Yet as the looming monster rolls in ...a tidal wave of muddy yucky water comes rolling right onto and all over our tarp. Everyone who had dry shoes...no longer does. Everyone who was relatively clean...is no longer. I scramble to pull the tarp up...to keep water from coming in...but it’s useless.
Water is dumping from the shade right onto the tarp which is slightly larger than the shade above. I’m frantic to keep our tarp semi dry. I dance around mopping this place and that with the squashy wet remains of the newspaper flyer they handed us at the door. Josh chooses to stand and watch and chastise my efforts rather than help. Tensions sore to a new level.
Finally, the rain lets up and that small puddle next to us...is now a lake.
Every kid/baby/dog/adult now takes great joy in belly flopping into it, thus sending huge waves of muck onto us. I smile through “gritty” teeth at each careless and insensitive person. But how can you honestly look at someone and say “please be careful not to get us dirty” when we already are?!?

But I was content to stay wet, just did not want to get too muddy. Plus the bands were really good! In for the long haul, we endured several waves of monsoons. After the second, Jada and her friend get so dirty that they cannot even feed themselves. Their hands are covered in mud that cannot be wiped off. Which is unfortunate, since they just hiked over to get a powdered sugar funnel cake. Kids. They don’t care. They just ate it anyway- mud and all.

A need to travel to the port-a-potties has a drastic toll on my what were my still dryish shoes, and reports that the port-a-john ‘authorities’ can no longer get in through the mud to service them...means they will fill up quickly and we’ve been asked to go somewhere else to “make”.

This evening is looking worse and worse. I cannot fathom having to get through this muck to my car in the pitch black. This is no longer worth hearing my favorite bands. We lose. We give up. I shake my head in defeat and we decide to pack up and leave.

Mid trek as we are heading to the door though, here comes in another round of monsoons. This one so torrential that the pelting rain is actually HURTING my face as it hits. Drenched in a downpour, bodies aching from caring so much stuff all at once...I am the most miserable I have ever been. I am just pulling Jyllian through the mud by her arm. She’s getting so stuck in the miry knee deep stuff, (KNEE DEEP!) that I’m having to pull her out for every step we take. When we get to the entrance, I collapse and tell Josh to drop everything and just go bring the car to us.
He leaves and gets completely out of earshot when I see that the police are not letting ANYONE stop in front to pick up pedestrians. Every car that slows even a little...he runs up to and says “GO GO GO..YOU CANNOT STOP HERE!”
Grandma Jones trying to get into a car is even told she cannot do that. Apparently...it’s not safe?!?
Great. Now what are we to do?
I ask the girls to pick up all the stuff that I was carrying...and with my last ounces of strength and stamina-I heft up the pop up shade onto and across my back. It weighs 55 lbs. and is nearly crippling me to walk with it.

Halfway up the road we then are able to drop everything to wait for Josh...well out of reach of the policeman’s yelling.

He finally comes. Our car is so covered in mud you cannot tell what color it is/was. I throw the blanket over the seats for the girls to sit on, now covered head to toe in thick, stinky mud. And roll onto the front seat myself. Off we go leaving this exhausting day behind. I feel like I’ve left a war zone. Strands of hair hang in my eyes, as I blink back tears of joy to be leaving. From the back seats I can hear collective moaning. Poor Josh just stares blankly ahead and is wearing new mud sprays across his chest and face because he had to push out the car. As we are slowly begun making our way down the road, we pass more people coming in. The road is filled with new arriving families smiling and holding hands with each other. I laugh at those wearing clean, white, new shoes and carrying sweet little blankets to sit on. Those with cheerful happy faces wearing neat tidy makeup, and pretty shirts with cute little hairdos. I see a lady pulling a wagon with her kids in it and laugh because she’ll never be able to pull that thing through the lake of mud we just left. I laugh at these people, because on the horizon...we could see more dark clouds about to roll in indicating another monsoon.
I laughed because these happy people...were about to learn a huge lesson in endurance.