(Don't) Let it Snow!

 It's cold outside.  The sky is typically gray.  It's winter time.  Humbug!

I wish I were the type of person who anxiously awaits the cold season.  Take that back, I'm glad that I wouldn't want to live in Alaska, or any place North for that matter.  I enjoy a fire, but I like the ones that actually put out heat, not the ones you have to crawl inches away from to feel any temperature change.  I do love a white, serene, spotless snow cover, but I hate the mud trampled dirty snow that sits in my back and front yard, leaving bare mud spots to slowly, but surely take over my entire yard all year around.  (We are definitely the scourge of the neighborhood when it comes to lawns!  If it's not that I'm sharing my cottonwood leaves with the neighboring 3 or 4 houses on each side, it's that I do grow a fine mud patch- while other yards are beautiful green.  Of course I understand that this is because I have 7 kids trampling around- no make that more, the neighbor kids are playing at my yard too. Hmmmm, their yard looks beautifully lush and green. . . ) 
Boy am I a humbug!  But, I really wouldn't trade any of my swamp like, snow trampled yard if it meant no kids.  Although I kind of doubt that my neighbors are sitting in their houses saying "Wow, it should would be nice to have kids livening up our yard and leave it looking like the tar pits of old!"  It's a unique look that is all ours- thus making it easy to find our house.  Bonus for holiday visitors!
Back to snow though.  I feel very vulnerable while driving in the snow.  Yes, I've had a number of accidents in the past that play a huge part into this, not to mention a lot of close calls.  But this year I have the Jane Austen Want to Be out on the roads at least 4 times a week by herself.  This is more than unnerving.  My mother hen instincts kick into red alert. 

Yet, as I sit by my window and humbug, I do have to say that I'm not looking at anything white- no snow, no mush, not even any ice,  To which I say THANK YOU LORD!  You see, The Jane Austen Want to Be's college class ended yesterday- which means she made it though the first semester of the half hour each way drive by herself without having to deal with snowy roads!  That was something we had prayed about, and ironically enough, there was a forecast for snow yesterday to come a 3:00- the same time her last class ended.  (It didn't come- but I'm okay with that.)  Never mind that her next class starts up on January 4th and that date is still in the winter season : P  (I'll deal with that worry later.  Just enjoying the blessed feeling for now!)

Other snow- yes, snow comes in forms other than wet precipitation. 

I was standing in the shower today, enjoying the hot water, when a pelt of "light snow" hit the door.  It always starts as a little rap of tiny 2 year old knuckles on the lower part of the door.  However, within minutes, I'm being bombarded with the "snowballs" of teen pounding.  Oh, it wouldn't be so bad if each knock was followed by "Mom, just wanted to tell you I love you!"  or "Mom, while you are showering, we've decided to clean the whole house!"  But no, sadly, these snowballs are always accompanied with "Mom, so and so is doing this.. . ."  or "Mom, make so and so stop. . . "   To which I always reply some non-audible nonsense that I later blame on the inability to understand them over the shower water.

Please DON'T let it snow!

It's funny, I attended Mass yesterday and the priest had everyone clap for the 2nd graders who just make their first reconciliation.  I heartily applauded that, but still snicker at various priests' comments that hearing 2nd graders' first confession like being pelted with popcorn.  I love this analogy!  I am going to make it a fond wish that all my confessions were just a sprinkling of popcorn (or a light rap of snowballs) and never to excel to a mound of snow drifts! 

My father made the comment last night that the days between Thanksgiving and Christmas rush by in such a hurry.  I responded that this was because he was old.  What I mean was that he is not awakened daily by The Boy and his 4 year old innocence that makes him ask "Is tomorrow Christmas Eve?!?"   I could give him an exact number count of how many days he has, but it wouldn't really matter- he lives in the here and now and tomorrow might as well be 10 years from now.  I did set up a Jessie Tree to show the countdown of the days to Christmas; I even have the advent wreath in a prominent place with only 2 candles on it as it's supposed to be.  But each morning I have to again face the snowballs of "Is it Christmas Eve yet?!" 

Forget it, I'd rather waken to that then to The Baby's greeting of "Mom, change my diaper!!" 

--That's more like waking up to a blizzard!!

As you are counting down the days to Christmas, I hope you are finding joy in the snow storms you are facing.  I pray that the Lord blesses you with the right tolerance to face all the precipitations of life.  And, if you happen to catch the Lord's ear, please whisper to Him to NOT send any snow my way!

Dodging snowballs while surviving myself,
Mary

Happy Thanksgiving!

It is now 11:55 on Thanksgiving Day and I am not standing in front of the oven.  I am at the table, but the only thing on the table is carrots, celery, and ranch dressing- and I'm not THAT hungry!  I just might have to crash the kids table-which is ladden with Cheetos!  Personally, I think that we should replace the chubby cut carrots with the Cheetos and see how long it takes the kids to notice : P

So, I am thinking about all am I thankful for.  There is so much to my list.  Of course I am thankful for my faith, family, friends and health.  As I sat in Mass today, I didn't have to think hard about those top 4.  I do have extra things on my list this year though and I'll be happy to share. . .

I am thankful for my sister Susan and brother-in-law Dan who hosted Thanksgiving at their house this year.  Although I could probably do without the 4 hour trip here- I like to look on the bright side of such a long trip- which is I know where all my kids are for the next 4 hours, my husband is a great driver so I am going to sleep.  Yes, for the whole trip. 

Speaking of sleep- I am thankful for naps.  Long ones over short, but naps in general are great.  Being pregnant gives me a great excuse to take them often, and believe me, I try to get in as many as possible.  Today I will find the nap extra nice because the small boys in the house (2 nephews and my own 2) decided that 3 AM was the time to be up and running in the house.  Honest.  As I look at the 2 other people who, like myself, couldn't find sleep easily after that, and see them yawing now, I am dumbfounded that the boys are still running non-stop.  What I wouldn't give to be able to capture and market their energy!  I wouldn't have to work- which would leave more time for naps!!

I am thankful for being pregnant on the Thanksgivng.  There is never such an excuse to eat as there is when you are pregnant!  Of course, I'm constantly reminded by those pesky birth and baby e-mails that my daughters signed up for, that I'm techanically not eating for two- but I say use pregnancy to the full advantage.  Don't ask me about this in 6 months though- don't even bring it up!!

Oh, back to my sweet sister and brother-in-law.  These 2 wonderful people gave up their master bedroom to let the pregnant woman have comfort for two days.  That's love!  Especially since my sister JUST got off the plane (yesterday morning at 5AM) from a Europen 10 day trip-thus not having the comfort of her own bed herself even.  Wow, even I wouldn't give that much- pretty sure about that. 

I've heard of a couple of families that decided to make this Thanksgiving a electronic free holiday.  No phones, wii, computers, etc.  (this as I'm sitting here typiung my post. . . : - O)  And I say- good for them!  Which will lead me to my last thankful for for this day.  I am thankful for my brother-in-law losing his wedding ring.  I know, that is terrible.  It didn't go over well with my sister either!  Did I mention that this is the 3rd time he lost his wedding ring in 15 years?  So-why my joy?  Because for at least 1 straight hour- maybe an extra 1/2 hour than that, most of the 12 kids were busy looking for the wedding ring.  Inside and out of the house- busy kids, not plugged in to anything : P  (Thus I had a chance to steal the laptop!)

Bad news, the search was lost- and so is the ring still!  Who knows, maybe there is still time to find it. St.Anthony???    Maybe he's taking Thanksgivng Day off?


Well, turkey's on- hope you and all yours are enjoying the day and finding extra to be thankful for!

Stuffing and surviving myself,
Mary

Is it Monday?

Have you ever had one of those weeks?   I have double checked to see if the calendar read Monday ever since, well Monday.  I did, however, find some precious jewels amongst the grayness. 

On Monday, The Boy was sick- which both he and I deemed "totally unfair" since he was sick to his stomach last Tuesday.  I must have sympathized with him too much though; I joined in on his sickness full force.  So, this Monday he was once again feeling miserable- only a head cold this time, but still such a dry cough that he was either sobbing or coughing.  (Jewel #1) "Why, why did God make this happen to me?" he'd cry.  I tried to explain to him that while God allowed his sickness, it was due to Adam and Eve's sin that we get sick.   "I hate Adam and Eve!"  cough, cry, cough, cough.

I don't know what touched my heart more- the comment or the little turned down lip that accompanied his sobs! 

Despite the sickness, The Boy is the trooper.  He wanted to work on his school.  Since one of his best subjects is memory, we worked on our currant undertaking: memorizing the 50 states and their capitals.  Now before you think we are cranking out super genius kids, meeting and exceeding the standard homeschooling, I'll let you know we picked to memorize these because 1. it was set to music and the kids tend to memorize much better if they can sing it. and 2. it was easier than memorizing the list of Popes- although The Jane Austen Want to Be suggested we just spout out "Pope 1, Pope 2, Pope 3, etc."  Funny. 

Anyway, (Jewel #2) The Boy has done so well on the states, except he is absolutely sure that Michigan's capital is Landscape, not Lasing.  It's so cute, I hate to correct him each time.  Oh, I do, but not until after a giggle. 

Today, surely a Monday, was the day that The Clown picked to work (or shall I say continue to work) on their messy, MESSY bedroom.  Really, I'm not a mommy dearest that runs white glove tests daily to see if the kids' room are clean- trust me, they wouldn't pass anyway!  They really get it from me honestly; I have never lived down a Christmas orange that some how lost itself and reappeared many, many months later- hard as a rock and a little more green than orange.  So, I don't put a lot of pressure on immaculate rooms.  Yet, about every 3 weeks the older 3 girls decided it's time to straighten up.  This means a dumping of the closets.  I always try to avoid cleaning days by staying clear of the area- completely away!  The Clown worked this morning, despite the fact that she too had the cold and felt miserable, rehanging clothes and straightening up.  Unfortunately, The Jane Austen Want to Be and The Bookworm took it upon themselves to go back through what The Clown's progress and confiscate clothes that she had outgrown.  The problem with this is that (Jewel #3) The Clown was positive that the clothes they grabbed still fit her fine- never mind that they were size 7 and 10 - and that she is wearing a size 14.  I love that she still sees herself as my little girl. 

What is even sadder was that, due to her feeling sick, her feelings were worn on her sleeve and this whole event sent her into tears.  (Jewel #4) Grabbing the 4 or 5  pieces of clothes, she hugged them and ran off crying, where she found solace on the couch, clutching them like a precious treasure.  I can so appreciate that scene- there are times when I try something on from my closet that used to fit fine!  I often shed some tears and feel like climbing in a fetal position too!  - I hate Adam and Eve!!

Finally, this brings me to this week being the week of losing things.  Including my mind!  From Monday on, the house has been in an uproar over lost items.  Fortunately everything has been found, well, not my mind, but not without much shedding of tears, rants, raves and slammed doors.  This is what brings me to the next jewel- Jewel #8.      

No, I didn't miscount- in fact, my numbers are right on- we are expecting another baby- for now we'll call "Jewel #8"- in April. 

After all my medical mishaps, which conveniently covered my doctor visits excuses to the children, my husband and I decided to share the good news with the family.  Believe me, if I could have gotten away with hiding the news until Christmas I would have!  It would have made for easy Christmas shopping-  something that was on each of the kids' wish list.  Unfortunately, the baby bump was growing beyond my jeans size.  

The only sadness in that news and relating to this week is that I did officially climb into the maternity clothes.  I know- it's not sad- it's good, it's normal, it's just hard getting big!  Oh, that and finding that most of my maternity clothes were a little dated- very 90's.  Too bad that trend hasn't come back.  Can I blame that one on Adam and Eve too?  Maybe it's just a Monday!

Growing and surviving myself,
Mary

Injury Alert

So in my older post, "So Wonderful,"  I talked about my trip to the E.R.  and how being a medical wonder was not fun.  This past week I had a follow up with the doctor and while she still couldn't confirm if I had a kidney stone or not, she was feeling confident that IF did, I surely hadn't passed it yet.  Again, I'm not sure of how this diagnosis came about, but the look on my face read anything but "Thanks doc!"  I'll have to keep you posted on my joyful trip. 

This week though, I'm looking at The Boy, now 4, almost 5 years old, and wondering how it is that we have had so few trips to the E.R. up until now.  He did take his father and me to the immediate care 2 weeks ago tomorrow- with a broken arm.  I've never had broken bone before, nor has my husband.  I haven't had a child with a broken bone before either.  There was no mistaking this though!  Seeing his arm hanging at such an odd position with a strange bump protruding from the elbow made me have to work to keep my lunch down. 

Long story short, he fell off his bike, broke the arm in 2 places below the elbow and since the immediate care insisted on a specialist (that wasn't in any big hurry to get us in), his bones had already started to heal- thank you Lord! in the proper place.  Therefore only a temporary cast was needed.  Tomorrow! Tomorrow he goes back to the specialist to HOPEFULLY get the cast off.  I really don't think he could have survived a full 6 weeks in a regular cast.  The hardest part has been that he hasn't been able to ride his bike.  "Two feet on the ground," straight out of the doctor's mouth.  Oh how I've enjoyed repeating that phrase over and over. 

I really believe that God built boys differently.  I mean, I know they are different, and there are always exceptions in a few girls, but generally speaking, I think the testosterone blocks the brain cells from properly functioning about 99% of the time.  One only has to look at "America's Funniest Videos" to see that nearly all the clips of dangerous, stupid stunts are performed my guys.  More specifically boys- or men who haven't moved out of the boy stage.  While my kids enjoying watching this show, I feel like I have to be in a 4 foot radius from their ears to follow up each of these types of clips with "Don't you even think about doing that!"  Of course my warnings are usually drowned out by "Cool!" or "Hey, I bet we could do that!" or just all out laughter- this all coming from their Dad! 

I know, as parents, we haven't aided the whole don't do dumb stuff warning when we have toys like skateboards, scooters and a trampoline.  What can I say, I like spending my time issuing warnings. 

The bad thing about experiencing a brake in a bone is that I'm "on edge" now.  When I hear one of the kids crying "that cry," I'm there before the tear leaves the eye, panicked and on alert.  Today The Cute one who gets Everything Free at Garage Sales came inside the house crying uncontrollably that her head started hurting after playing leap frog on the trampoline.  Certain that she'd not been hit, didn't bend her neck wrong or anything of the like, my worry mode was set to alarm. 

You know, if you can actually see the injury, it really helps to make the "run to the doctor decision."  Unfortunately this isn't always the case.  It is in those times that one relies on their tried and true "Momisms."  You know what I mean.  My favorite one is: "Rub it."  Like that is going to make it better!  Well, my kids seem to think it does : P 

My husband tells of a football coach that would reply to most pains:  "Rub some dirt on it."  Hmmmm.  An expansion on mine. 

My daughter tells me her friends' dad's is:  "Suck it up!"  Okay,  might work- if I knew what to suck up.  

Another one- oh how these come to mind when you start thinking about it-  my husband has a "cure" that he uses when his panic mode hits:  he hands the child a quarter and tells them to squeeze it. 
Really?  I can't believe they would fall for this.  Okay, maybe keeping their mind on squeezing would be helpful, especially when dad is there pushing them to "keep squeezing" if their grip relaxes.  I would think that my kids would be smart enough to tell their dad that a dollar would be easier to squeeze though and would ease the pain a bit more! 

Back to The Cute one who gets Everything Free at Garage Sales.  After a bit of aspirin and a cold washrag (another Momism), she decided she felt better.  Of course this was after most of the nightly cleaning of the house was done.  

I do believe my kids have taken my heighted alerts to their advantage!

In the meantime, I hear there is a cold front coming in that is bringing rain.  Oh, too bad you can't ride bikes in that.  Well, actually you could, but Mom is on alert -remember. 

I'm having Dad take The Boy to the doctor appointment tomorrow.  It's not that I don't want to go; it's just that I think that dad, gracing me with the 2 boys at the end of the sting of kids, has to pay his dues in bringing the testosterone level a bit higher around the house.  That and I don't think that the doctor would appreciate me telling The Boy to not worry and just rub it!  I'd rather see them off from the house, be ready to greet him with "I'm so proud of you!" when he returns.  I do think I'll stick a few extra quarters in dad's pocket before he goes though! 

Surviving Myself (outside of the E.R.),
Mary

Oh- one last thing.  On a techinacal note, I am still working on the whole leave a comment thing.  I wasnt to assure you that if you try to leave a comment, you can do so by clicking "leave a comment" and then choose to send it under "anonymous" and the comment will get to me- just not saved to the post.  So feel free to comment away!

UPDATE: The Boy got back from the doctor today and with head hung low, announced he'll have 3 more weeks of the cast.  Poor boy, still no bike : (

Dangerous Discontent

I have recently been reading a book by Immaculee Ilibagiza, a survivor of the Rwanda holocaust of 1994.  Her book is entitled Left to Tell, and I highly recommend it to older teens and up- http://www.lefttotell.com/ .  It is very graphic in description of the horrors that took place in her country.  She, along with seven other girls/women survived by hiding in a 3' by 4' bathroom that belonged to a local pastor.  They stayed in this bathroom for 91 days, often times only sharing 1 plate of food amongst them.  More than once they would hear groups of killers, standing just inches away from their hiding place, chanting gruesome killing songs and calling out their names as they searched houses and streets hoping to add them to their killing list.  It was a shocking discovery that Immaculee found when listening to these killers and once getting a peek at them that these were not hardened, trained killers or soldiers that cried out for her blood and the blood of her people; these were her neighbors and friends that she grew up with, played with, that her own family had even helped out before with money or shelter.  She struggled with disbelief as much as she struggled for comfort and yet, it was in that tiny bathroom that she found peace.  Encircled by contempt, she found contentment.  Surrounded by discontent, she found love.   

Now, if you are like me, and pretty much any other human being, you have to be asking- How?  How could she find harmony in the midst of war.  One way she did this was by the grace of God.  Imaculee is a practicing Catholic who always found a joy in prayer.  She treasured her faith and the traditions that her family had grown up with.  There in a cramped bathroom, she retreated to the depth of her heart and conversed with the creator of the earth and found hope in the chaos.

This almost sounds "easy," doesn't it?  I can only imagine that it wasn't.  I would never want to experience the disarray she encountered.  Reading her story is so heavy, so sorrowful and yet incredibly insightful.  I am carrying her story in my heart, in my soul.  It has me thinking about events and people in different ways. 

I am dumbfounded, as was she, by the actions of friends and neighbors.  Just as it was in Germany.  There too Jewish people found hate expressed to them by neighbors and loved ones.  Afterward, we stood shocked at what human beings can do to one another.  We probably even confess with our lips that we could never do something like that ourselves. 

And yet, I propose to you, are we really so different?  Imaculee herself experienced the hate that drives a human to the desire revenge.  She struggled with it until she found the forgiveness of Christ. 

But not all of us are hidden away in a 3' by 4' bathroom with killers calling for our blood.  We face discontent on a far different level and probably daily.  For some, it may be very mild- a dissatisfaction of others' actions or even their possessions.  For others, it may be a bigger, growing discontent of dealing with moral situations at work or struggling with political actions of the government. 

When Adam and Eve left the garden, they experienced discontent.  But if we had been there, would we not also have "messed up" along the way- bringing sin and sorrow to every generation?  Sure, it is easy to say "No!" with 20/20 hindsight, but being "in the moment" brings each of us to the reality that sometimes our choices bring us and others discontent. 

Lately, I have experienced a level of discontent that is disturbing me.  No, I am not out for revenge- more so, I am longing change.  This discontent is on a personal scale.  It is not aimed at the government, my neighbors, my friends or my family.  I am feeling uneasiness in my lifestyle.  What I find so disturbing though is how much my restlessness has an effect on my family.  

In my heart I feel the Lord calling me to shun some of the influence of media upon my family's time.  It is so easy for me to "veg" out in front of the t.v. at the end of the day- I crave the mindless entertainment!  It was actually something I grew up with- with a t.v. in nearly every room, I could tell the time of the day by what was on the tube.  I have strongest memories of t.v. characters from my youth than I do of  daily activities.  It is a addiction I struggled with and still do.  When I had my first child, I made a decision to fight against this desire.  The t.v. went off and I forced myself to live in the moment.  I have worked to keep this habit suppressed for the last 16 years.  Usually I feel pretty good about it.  I allow my children around 1/2 hour a day, 3 times a week of viewing what we call "Jesus movies."  On the weekend, we would watch a bit more- indulging in a full length video each day.  However, as my older kids hit the teen years, we've found the  convenience of replay episodes online,  which led to a creeping back of the old habit of more viewing. 



Our first week passed.  I won't call it a roaring success.  I won't even call it overwhelmingly enjoyable.  It is hard work to work against the influence of media!  I know though that anything worth having is usually accompanied by hard work.  Sadly, many nights, we called it to an end went to bed early.  It was like we couldn't find enjoyment amongst ourselves unless we had the t.v. as a distraction. 

Discontent.  There it is again.  Discontent without the media, discontent with media.  Don't get me wrong- I am not comparing my discontent on the level of Imacculee's or the Jewish holocaust.  But discontent has to start somewhere.  It has to be given birth, feed, and nurtured. 

In distress, I watched myself and my spouse as we hit a weekend- the 2 nights that my husband doesn't work.  He has a second shift job and doesn't get home until after midnight.  These 2 nights are supposed to be a time when we can work and build our relationship.  Where did I find us on Sat. and Sun. night?  In front of the t.v.

Discontent.  Tearing at my heart.  Letting Satan in.  Finding unhappiness in my life.  I just want to give into the easy answer.  Turn to the media, embrace it.  It wasn't like we were unhappy being tube heads.  We laughed with each other, shared jokes about, and had discussions about our viewing.  Unfortunately it doesn't really build relationships; it doesn't strengthen us. 

Discontent.  Without the t.v., I have found I have a "boring" life.  Don't pity me with the use of that word.  I don't mean that I want to leave my life, give up my family and run off with the circus.  I mean I have lost myself and my ability to function with those I love and I crave change in such a fashion that I am actually restless.

When we have discontent in our hearts, is it not a quick jump from uncomfortable feelings to hate? 

I will leave you on that question.  Ponder it.  Pray about it.  Respond to it.  And if you feel led, comment on my blog about it.  We often find answers in the places we least expect- so please share your thoughts on this subject.  You could help others- you could help me. 

Discontently Surviving Myself,
Mary

So Wonderful!!

Who doesn't love wonders?  You know a cause of astonishment, amazement- like the Wonders of the World, or Wonder Woman or someone saying "You're so wonderful!"  What's not to like about wonders?  I even get a tinge of excitement when I hear my kids say "Hey, I wonder. . . "  I bend my ear to their thoughts, because it's a sign to me that their wheels are turning and thoughts are cranking out.  Love when they become independent, terrific thinkers- especially when they are trying to solve a problem that I cannot piece together myself!  (One of the reasons I have so many kids. . . more minds to keep me on track!) 

I also love being able to write "Wonderful!" across the top of my childrens' graded papers- as I'm sure they are happy to see it - much better than the "Fix!" or "Do again!"
It's no wonder that a top selling bread is Wonder Bread.  With a name like that, what kid couldn't resist it?  Of course the wonderful yellow, blue and red circles calling out to the yearning stomachs, promising a mouthful of soft, white tasty goodness.  Ahhhh.   Okay, maybe I'm a bit obsessed- my Mother rarely bought Wonder Bread- we ate wheat bread (A healthy choice I've carried on, so my own children salivate when as a rare treat I place a loaf in my shopping cart.)

Oh, how about music- that oldie, but goodie, "S' Wonderful. . S' Marvelous. . .that you should care for me. . ."
Or even older~"I Wonder why I Love You Like I do"
My ALL time favorite wonder song though is "What a Wonderful World" - Louis Armstrong.  This song brings back memories of  high school dances- which in and of themselves were not so wonderful, but it was always the last song played at each dance and just left you ready to leave with a light heart as the lights came on and everyone chimed in to sing the lyrics.  Good song!

Movies- no brainier- "Wonderful Life"  This movie is such a classic- brought out each Christmas season at our home.  Plus, there are so many take offs of this movie- many very, very good, including Shrek Forever (my favorite Shrek).

With all these wonders, are you wondering where I'm going? 

It's to the antipodean of everything wonderful about wonder. 

Two weekends back I became a wonder in the most loathsome way.  I was considered a "medical wonder."  Much to the demise of what was supposed to be a family day at a church festival, I spent the day in the E.R. with an extreme pain in my abdomen and a handful of hospital workers scratching their heads and saying "I wonder. . . "

This is not what wonder is supposed to be!  Wonder is supposed to be laughter, proud feelings, yummy bread and feel-good music! 

Here is what I do wonder about- how come it is so easy to cross that point of embarrassment to the point of lose all caution to the wind when it comes to pain?  It must be something about the hospital gown with the slit down the back.  It's never going to mean something wonderful is going to happen!  Okay, I did don the gown 7 times to give birth- and that is wonderful!- but the modesty grows it's own wings and flies out the window when the gown goes on.  And there is no wonder is all the needle pricking, poking, prodding and marvelous contraptions that get hooked up to your body when you suit up in the hospital finery. 

And so, after many tests and head scratching, the E.R. doctor, as he is about to release me, says
"I wonder. . . maybe you had a kidney stone." 

O great, this probably means more tests- No thanks!  He must of read my mind.  After all, I wasn't in any pain anymore.  In fact, my pain had actually subsided before I was even called out of the E.R. waiting room! Wonderful, huh?!?  Maybe it was the pleading look in my eyes that convinced him to release me.  Although he wasn't going to confirm anything, he did feel that my tests lead to conclude it was kidney stones.  "But be sure to follow up with your primary doctor." 

I was not surprised at all when my primary doctor said- "I wonder. . ."  Unfortunately, it was not the same wonder as the E.R. doctor- she just wondered what could have happened, because she wasn't convinced that it was kidney stones.    

WONDERFUL!

(Sigh!) As I run back to doctor check-ups, enjoy the time "on rest", and continue to wonder, I'm so glad that I am a wonder to our Lord.  It's easier to face bad wonders knowing that the All-Wonderful has me right where I am supposed to be!

Attempting to survive myself,
Mary

We've searched High and Low!

If there is one thing my family is good at it is looking for things.  Notice, I didn't say FINDING things; that is not our forte!  We take an opportunity nearly every three weeks to go on a great search- three weeks is amount of days we have before the library books are due.  For most people keeping track of library books probably isn't a big deal.  What do most normal people check out per library visit?  Five, maybe ten books?  We are not normal.  I have gotten better, but at any given time, we'll check out anywhere from 30 to 50 books, sometimes more.  We have an addiction to library books; not that this is a bad thing.  I like to spend at least an hour a day reading "picture books" to the younger kids.  Just a habit I'd started with the Jane Austen Wanna Be when she was little and continue to enjoy that time together even now. 

Turning 5 in our family is a big deal- this is the age when a child gets to get his/her own library card.  Of course this also means he/she accepts a bigger chunk of the blame when a book is lost, and that is not so good!  To say a frequent calling upon St. Anthony is heard from our home is an understatement.  I expect when we reach the pearly gates, each of of us will receive a tongue lashing from the multitude of times St. Anthony had to take a break from praising the Almighty to guide us to where the lost library book rests. 

The Clown has earned the nickname of "St. Anthony"- because she is really good at finding lost things.  I'm always calling upon her when something has gone astray.  She has a good turn around time!  This is also why I ask her to find things that I have lost in my mind.  So many times I will leave a room, only to stop and holler her name to remind me why I had left the room to began with.  She is also good with unwritten shopping lists, telephone numbers and keeping track of sibblings' forgotten punishments. . . hmmmm shouldn't be surprised about that last one.

What is this all leading to?  I had a point, but I lost it : )   No, the point is I have been searching for a family hobby that would occupy a minimal amount of time and include all of us- from the 2 year old to the 45 year old (see prior post: "Happy Birthday to Me!").  I had all but given up- especially since we are not really sports oriented, not  so musically talented that we could play anything remotely recognizable to any human, and don't possess the patience of Job, nor the wealth of Midas.  Yet, about about 2 weeks ago, I stumbled upon an idea (probably under the guidance of St. Anthony) that looked like it was a hobby made just for us.

This activity is called Geocaching.  It is also known as Letter Boxing.  See the  following link: http://www.geocaching.com/seek/nearest.aspx?lat=39.01103&lng=-95.777829&dist=5
This is a hobby where you use your GPS Navigation Device (yes, of course we have one- my husband's solution to keeping us from getting lost around town) to input a set of coordinates.  Then, piling into the car, you follow the GPS to the set point and find the cache that is hidden.  Wow!  A hobby involving looking for something that is hidden?!?  It should be called "Mooradian-ing."

What makes the search fun is that the end result could be a bit of a treasure- a medium/large size cache holds little goodies that you can trade out, or disguises that you don and photograph to upload as proof of your successful find.  There are also little/microscopic size caches that usually just hold a log that you sign and date. 

Our first few attempts were nothing shy of a complete failure (St. Anthony?!?).  But, on the 3rd attempt, we found the needle in the haystack and you'd thought we'd found the cure for cancer!  Considering we weren't using our GPS correctly, it was on the level of brain surgery.  It felt so much more of an accomplishment too because we weathered 102 degree heat,  around a 3/10 mile walk and overgrown grass that harbored overgrown grasshoppers (at least according to The Jane Austen Wanna Be). 

A round of root beer floats proved to be the best way to celebrate (which coincidentaly, we also included the celebrating of finding a lost library book).  Lots of bragging ensued, along with posting our pictures on the website.  It appears that an answer to our hobby search has been found!  I'm actually quite surprised that The boy and The Cute One Who Always get Free Stuff at Garage Sales were the two children that started begging to go Geocaching again- especially since they were the first two to give up searching when we were out in the field.  Perhaps is just that they ejnoyed the time together we had as a family, with a common goal at hand.  Maybe it was they were relieved to break of the regular routine to get out of the house.  Possibly they just liked seeing The Jane Austen Wanna Be get flustered and mad at the GPS in what we call the Geocaching Rage.  I'm not sure, but I know that we are building memories and having fun.

Thank you Lord that you don't need to work so hard to keep track of us, your children.  I can rest knowing that no matter where my children or I am, you are keeping close track of us. 

Now, if I could just get a fixed coordinates on each of our checked out library books. . .

Finding and Surviving Myself,
Mary