On the floor

So, the last post may have been a little heavy, but when God lays something on my heart, I cannot ignore it.

Husband, who is a behind-the-scenes blog follower, was a little worried. He came home and asked me two questions:

1. Is everything okay?

2. Did he do something?

I am thinking that he missed the buck, so Honey, if you are reading, the last post was about me, not you.

He apparently thought he would come home to find his clothes on the floor.



No, Honey, not clothes.....................










Everyone in the house had to be on the floor, playing with "bocks."





Everyone smile and say "I need help getting up."

Target

I snapped a really cute picture last night that I thought would be perfect to blog about, but God had a different plan.

I left my camera in Meredith's room, and since I was running behind this morning, I did not have time to retrieve it. Don't worry. I'll blog about it soon.

Apparently I am walking around with a target on my back, because God sent me two very direct messages this morning: first, the information, and second, to share it in my blog. (Apparently, I am not alone.)

K-Love (cue the music....."Positive, encouraging, more music, K-Love") played clips of an interview with the Christian group Tenth Avenue North.

Tenth Avenue North based their entire first album around James 5:16.

"Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed."

In the interview there was a reminder of something so familiar: He loves us not because of who we are, but in spite of who we are.

So, I began to think about things that need to be confessed. Things I would say to you in this moment. Things you may or may not know.

Are you ready? Warning: You are about to witness the train wreck that I truly am.

1. I am a perfectionist.
2. Because of number 1, I am extremely critical of others.
3. Even more, I am extremely critical of myself.
4. As a mother, I make mistakes.
5. I try to be a people-pleaser, even at the expense of others.

(There are others, but the list would get to 100, and the post would be even longer than it already is.)

Now in the car, as I thought of these things. God was peering into my heart, pointing in a particular direction. Whether intentional or unintentional, I was ignoring His request.

And then, there was mention of a comic, Anita Renfroe, who has written several books. I believe the terms Lisa used were "racy, Christian books." She mentioned Adam and Eve being in the garden, naked and unashamed, and how we struggle to get back to that. She continued by saying love is spiritual, emotional, and physical.

Awww, snap. Busted!

If I have slipped in my walk, than how can I expect my relationship to be right with Husband. If I am not being emotionally supported, is it that I am not emotionally supportive? And even though it's taboo, the physical is just as important as the rest.

6. I am not the best wife.
7. Worse, I do not try to be.

City Girl

My mother-in-law calls me "City Girl." She's called me that for years. Though I have been a country girl for a while and I think I am getting the hang of it, I still am a city girl at heart.

I love neighbors being spread out, the wildlife, and the dusty dirt road.

But not for forever. Just for right now.

The city is where I like to roam.

I like just hopping in my car and being somewhere in just a few minutes.

I like to hear horns blowing.

I like being seconds from a park.

I like boneless meat.

Got your attention? That's one of the reasons why Mother-in-law calls me "City Girl." I don't eat meat on the bone. The thought of it makes me nauseous. I really cannot handle it. It just seems very barbaric. So, if someone can, answer me this.





Who does this child belong to???!!!

Help!

As if our life was not productive enough, we have had more going on in the last few days.

I'm beginning to think Husband is Noah. Remember, several weeks ago when I mentioned the pipe that burst (Did we ever establish what was correct?) in our attic. Well, Sunday, a pipe coming into the house, decided he was jealous of all the attention the other pipe was getting. So while husband was cutting through the jungle that we like to call our yard, he discovered a stream of water flowing into a large resovoir. The dog believed it was his oasis. Lucky us!

Husband just jumped in there, literally, and after much work and papertowels, he got the leak stopped.

So, we kind of need to talk serious. We need to talk "Pappie."

Pappie is a very dear companion of Little Foot. Oh, they just love one another. Little refuses to even entertain the thought of a nap or bedtime without Pappie in her mouth. But here recently, the need for Pappie has gotten worse. I mean, she's ...................................... addicted! Is there some form of rehab available? She needs an intervention! Any suggestions????

Framing

So have you quit laughing yet? We sure haven't.

It has been brought to my attention that Little Foot will probably become angry with me over that one particular, precious picture. Therefore, I have concocted a potentially believable account of who snapped the picture.

Ready?

So my mother-in-law, or Grandma, is a photo-fanatic. Constantly wanting to take pictures. Therefore, Grandma is the perfect target.

When Little gets sixteen and asks about the picture, Grandma took it.

Now, hold on!! I have cleared this with Grandma. Grandma probably is aware that at sixteen, Little will have a long lists of reasons to not appreciate me. I think something as petty as a picture should not be on that list. That will free up room for the more serious items like I didn't let her get her nose pierced or dye her hair blue.

Now, what can I pin on Nona??? Hmmmmm.............

Confessions

There is not enough time for me to confess everything (and I would not want to). However, I must confess that while I was pregnant I wanted a little boy. (There. I said it. A weight has been lifted.) The thought of having a little boy consumed me. I believe that part of wanting a little boy is a woman feels slightly obligated to have a son for her husband. Now Husband was not as dead-set on having a boy as I was, and I now greater understand that God has a plan and a purpose much greater than my own. I adore Little. I adore tea parties, painted toe nails, bows, dresses. I love every single millisecond of it. Besides, a little boy would not think of such a spectacular outfit. . . . .











On to my next confession. The girls of the house are not morning people. Don't look at us. Don't talk to us. In fact, we rather you not even be around. I try to limit my morning conversation to as few words as possible; otherwise, someone may get hurt. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Little Foot wakes up saying no. The conversation is hilarious.

Husband: "Good morning!" (He is such a morning person it makes me nauseated.)

Little: "Ugh-ughhhh."

Husband: "It's time to get up!"

Little: "Noooooo."

The whole time she is flailing around. Refusing to be caught. Eyes never open. So this morning is a little excessive, but I think you can get the point.






Take in a deep breath......


















Hope your morning was better than hers!