Don’t Tell Me

If I had a true grasp of how much work I need to do in the next five hours I would not be sitting here typing about it. I would be curled up under my desk crying, praying for Jesus to return so the world could end and I wouldn’t have to clean up from house guests, grade papers that are due tomorrow, make a salad to take to dinner tonight, or shower. I don’t think Jesus will mind that I haven’t done my hair. As a matter of fact, I’m hoping the hair I get on my heavenly body will be a lot better than the hair I have on my earthly one. If I could put in a request I’d ask for hair a la Amy Grant, circa 1998. A girl can dream.

We had a great Thanksgiving week in Atlanta and rolled back here last Saturday night around midnight. Our house guests came Sunday evening about 7. While I was thrilled to have Julie, Bruce and their three children here, I didn’t have a chance to recover from our week away. So now I’m in the process of recuperating from being gone and having a house full of children who ran wild. They were in and out of the house, up and down the stairs… holy cow, they had a great time together.

The kids are trying to make sure they’re caught up on their studies and I’m trying to balance the checkbook. We may or may not have any money in our account; I have so many debit charges from our week away and each time I enter one the balance in Quicken just keeps going lower, much lower.

I need to really clean the bathrooms, change the sheets, mop the kitchen floor, dust the family room (my all-time least favorite chore), do 17 loads of laundry, and, as I mentioned above, take a shower. Yet here I sit, typing about all that needs to be done, doing nothing. I am a procrastinator. I work well under pressure, but I would prefer to learn how to pace myself and work a bit at a time. But I would always know I had a cushion of more time, so I wouldn’t do it and I’d end up right back where I am now.

I also need to make a salad to take to dinner tonight. A lovely family from our new church invited us over and all I have to bring is a salad. You’d think I could handle that, but for some reason I’m feeling major pressure to take a really good salad. A salad to be remembered. A salad so good I would be asked for the recipe and all the women in the church would look at me and think, “Wow! There goes the lady who makes the greatest salad in the world!”

That is not like me. Anyone who really knows me knows this is not the kind of thing I usually care about. See - there is something wrong! I ended a sentence in a preposition. I must be tired.

Even so, I’ve candied walnuts to put in a spinach salad with mandarin oranges and raspberry vinaigrette. I actually googled “salad” to come up with this. I am now officially worried about me. I hope it’s just lack of sleep…

Maybe what I really need to do is take a nap. Now that’s something I think I could do right away. The dust will certainly still be there tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Tinkerbell Update

My sister sent pictures from Tinkerbell's first weekend at home. She is awfully cute...

Tink with the whole fam

Tink, Megan and Ryan in Tinkerbell's garage suite.

Puppies are like children; they start out cute so you don't beat them when they drive you crazy (or pee on your floor).

Don't Want to Re-do that Week

I’m sitting in my parents’ living room. Monday Night Football has captivated Michael, Sean and my Dad. Amy and my Mom are visiting in another room. Rebecca’s already in bed. And I’m attempting to recover from my busiest week in recent memory.

Last Monday was the Thanksgiving Feast for Rebecca’s class. I remembered at the very last minute I was supposed to take a dessert, so I threw some brownies I’d made on Saturday for the youth group party on a paper plate and prayed no one would see me walk in with my paltry offering.

I was already feeling badly about the dessert; I hadn’t even thought about the costume I’d made for my little pilgrim. “Costume” is too strong a term; it was actually just a piece of computer paper cut to look like a pilgrim hat. I felt rather proud of myself for making it because I had to follow a diagram I found on the internet, and those of you who know me well know I cannot follow diagrams. I need words: Cut here first. Fold here next. Put your staple right there. Get a diet Coke, put your feet up and relax after all the pilgrim-hat making you just did.

When I arrived I immediately realized the students could easily be divided into two groups: the kids with moms who sew and the kids with sewing-impaired moms. Rebecca was among the second group. Holy cow, you should have seen some of those costumes! One mom had made, from fabric, pilgrim hats with beautifully creased brims and long ties; when tied in a bow under the chin the little girls looked just like they’d hopped off the Mayflower that morning. Another mom had sewn white felt onto the collar and cuffs of her son’s black shirt and made a great pilgrim hat; it was so authentic the boy could have been on his way to meet with the Indians right then.

When I finally found Rebecca she didn’t even have on the paper pilgrim hat I’d made for her – she had ditched it in favor of an Indian headdress that a friend let her borrow. I asked where her hat was because I had actually remembered the camera and I wanted a picture of my paper creation, albeit one I wasn’t quite as proud of anymore. She had zero interest in wearing it and asked to please take the picture with the other hat on. I can’t say I blamed her.

After the Feast I had to take Michael and Amy in opposite directions; thank goodness for Molly; she picked Rebecca up after school and kept her until Sean could get her after work. I was glad to see Monday come to an end.

Tuesday brought on ortho appointment for Michael and extra school work for everyone as we prepared to take Thanksgiving week off. Wednesday was insane, as was Thursday: we had parent/teacher conferences, an Egyptian Feast for Amy’s ancient history class (for which I had to make two rice casseroles and a fruit tray), I drove Michael to Detroit so he could fly home to go camping with a friend, and to top it all of I had a flat tire on the way to the Detroit airport.

Needless to say, I am very, very glad that week is over. But I had to get through it to get where I am right now: sitting in my parents’ house, preparing to celebrate Thanksgiving with our families. I think I’ll start by being thankful last week is over, and that this week is proving to be a wonderfully relaxing time with family and friends.

I wish the same for you.

Happy Thanksgiving Week!

Welcome Home, Tinkerbell

I’m having a moment of silence right now for my twin sister, Heather. She was a brave and valiant soldier, fighting the good fight to avoid getting a dog, but alas; she was beaten down by her children and husband and today, after she picks the kids up from school, will pick up Tinkerbell, a yellow lab puppy.

I knew the battle was lost when a yellow lab up their street had puppies four weeks ago. (Tink is the one on top in the picture.) Even so, I have counseled her for two years to NOT get a puppy. There are so many, many reasons, but the main one is that she will be the sole caretaker of the dog. I don’t care what those kids say, Heather’s going to be the one feeding and walking and grooming that dog. She has enough to do; she’s a mom, a wife, and she works part-time. She does not have time to deal with a dog.

But her husband and children (whom I love, of course) have been hounding her for just as long, begging her to get a dog. David has wonderful memories of his childhood dog, Pumpkin. He swears Pumpkin was completely an outside dog. Megan and Ryan are kids, so of course they want a dog. And I honestly believe Megan, the oldest, believes she’ll help take care of Tink, as they’re going to call her. I, however, know better.

In 2001, I fully believed Michael when he claimed he would walk and feed a puppy. Sean and I were impressed with how clean Michael kept his room and how responsible he was concerning his school work. And we got weak in the knees when Michael looked at us with his wonderful hazel eyes and pleaded with us, “Please, Mom and Dad! I will walk him and feed him and take him outside and train him. I will love him!” How could we say no? (As it turns out, no is actually easy to say. Try it with me: N-O. See? Oh, how I wish I’d known that back then.)

So down to PetSmart for the Humane Society’s Adoption Day we went. Michael immediately fell in love with a cute little black pup with brown-tipped ears. The rescue worker said his name was Kent, to which Michael replied, “No, I think his name is Buster.” That was that.

You already know the rest of the story. We brought him home and the sweet little puppy grew into a furniture chewing, yard destroying, little children knocking over dog. And I was the only one feeding him or letting him out or walking him.

Almost the only good that came out of our move was I got to find a new home for Buster. We told the kids he was a Southern dog and he just wouldn’t handle the snow and cold well. (I am still paying for that, by the way. Sean's the one who got transferred; ultimately he's the one who moved us. But *I* was the one who made them get rid of the dog. I cannot wait to be the grandmother.)

There’s been a lot of talk about Buster lately as we’ve been hearing news of Tinkerbell. I know the pleas to get a puppy will come, especially after we get to meet Tink at Thanksgiving. But I have firmly stood my ground before, and I will continue to stand my ground. I will give my kids a lot of things they want, but I will not give them another dog.

I don’t want to have a dog. I don’t want to take care of a dog. I don’t want to pay for a dog. I don’t want to clean up after a dog. I know how that makes me sound, but I’m okay with it. I know my limits, and I am chock full of stuff to do with my children and husband and home that I do not have any time left over for a dog.

So today, I am thinking of my sister, and praying this little bundle of yellow fluff will be a wonderful addition to her family. And I am praying that David and Megan and Ryan really will help her Tinkerbell.

The Week in Review

The first snow of the season came and went on Thursday. As I opened the garage door I was greeted by the smallest of flakes swirling around my head. Rebecca bounded out behind me, thrilled to her toes to see snow; Amy sulked out behind her, scowling at Mother Nature. Lovely. Another day begun with a frowning second child. I am ready for her to move past the brooding pre-teen phase...

The snow didn't last long and it didn't stick. I am glad about that. It was fun to see but it reminded me that days of shoveling the driveway and bundling up and being eternally cold are upon us. I honestly don't want to complain because we had such a mild fall; it could have snowed in October but we had lovely weather until last week. Heck, my point of reference must be shifting if I consider 45 degrees in October to be mild.

Sean and I went out last night and it felt like Christmastime in Atlanta. Which made me think I really should get started on my Christmas shopping. Heck, Thanksgiving is only eleven days away, and then Christmas will be here before we know it. About this time of year I always think, "I'll get my shopping done early so I can enjoy the season of my Savior's birth." And four weeks later as I'm frantically driving hither and yon I realize how far down the road to hell I've traveled on my good intentions.

We have a fun day coming up tomorrow; we'll go to church in the morning (love, love, love our new church home), then we'll grab a quick bite to eat before we head over to MSU to hear the Spartan Spectacular. The Spartan Spectacular features the Spartan Marching Band and Drumline, Wind Symphony and Symphony Band, and Sean could not be more excited. I think the kids will enjoy it, too. I'm just wondering how loud the drumline is going to be inside that theater.

The Spectacular is at the Wharton Center, which is where we saw The Adventures of Frog and Toad performed last Wednesday. We were there with nearly every other elementary school child in all of Lansing. It was first come, first serve seating, but they held our home school group until they felt it was big enough to warrant letting us in. Therefore, by the time our group numbered 40, the first 20 rows were full, to which Sean quipped, "Heck, we pay for the schools, then don't use them. Seems we should get the best seats!" I'd settle for vouchers or school choice, but no one's asking me.

It's late, and I suppose I should hit the hay so I'm well-rested for the Spectacular. That word makes me laugh! Spectacular... I can just hear Will Ferrell's Buddy the Elf saying that, like he says, "Francisco." That is a great movie! I think we'll have to pull that out of our Christmas stuff stash and watch it for TTTFFN. That should put me in the motivated-Christmas-shopper mood. And if not, at least we'll be laughing together, hopefully including the 11 year old.

The "S" Word is Back

For the first time this season the "S" word was mentioned in the weather forecast. Reactions varied when I told the kids it might snow tomorrow. Michael was very concerned because I haven't bought him any snow pants. (The ones from last year are entirely too small. I cannot believe how fast this boy is growing.) I tried to explain that even if the weatherman was correct and we did get a few snow showers, the sledding hill would not be opened. He did not believe me.

Rebecca was excited for snow to come because she has a live-in butler. When she wants to play in the snow, she brings me her snow suit, hat, gloves and scarf and begs me to dress her "just right," which translates into to, "Make sure you pull my shirt sleeves down and make sure there are no bumps between my pants and the snow suit." After spending 15 minutes getting dressed, she will bound outside, realize it is much too cold for her little nose, and come running back in the house begging me to take everything off and make her hot chocolate which she will not drink because it is too hot and then will not drink because she let it cool off and is then too cold.

Amy was not happy hearing about the white stuff. "I just want to move back to Atlanta." That was the extent of our conversation. Did I mention she's 11 going on 25? Believe me, she is.

I guess I'm ready for it. Our October was unseasonable warm, so to complain about really chilly weather in November seems wrong. At least we made it this far without snow. I've heard stories of kids up here running around on Halloween with costumes over snow suits. I'm thankful we haven't lived through that.

The exact forecast is: Variable clouds with snow showers that will mix with rain showers later. High 42F. Chance of precip 60%. A slushy accumulation of less than one inch. Winds could occasionally gust over 50 mph. So it's not ten inches, or even two for that matter. I think I can work with less than one inch. It's awfully gracious of God to ease me back into winter like this.

I just have to remember that May will eventually come again, Lord willing.

Greenville YL

My sister's husband, David, is on staff with Young Life. He's been with them since he graduated from college. The Greenville (SC) News ran a great story on David and YL in their weekend edition. They also ran a cute picture of him in front of the YL office. Unfortunately, they didn't run a picture of the whole family. Seeing those adorable children would, I'm sure, cause donations to skyrocket! (Of course, my sister's cute, too, but we're twins and to say she's adorable would have sounded self-serving...)

Director Bokowy: Young Life is 'seed-planting' ministry
By Abe Hardesty
CITY PEOPLE WRITER

David Bokowy was a teenager when he got involved in Young Life ministries. His life hasn't been quite the same since.
His dream today, nearly 20 years later, is that more teenagers will benefit from the same experience.

"As an adolescent, you have the capacity to make decisions that affect you for a lifetime. "A person of that age is more open to new ideas and to the truth than at any other age in life," Bokowy says. "I feel called to be part of that critical time in a kid's life."

That explains why Bokowy joined the Young Life staff 15 years ago, shortly after earning a business degree at Furman University. And it explains why, at age 37, he continues to serve as Greenville area director.

"If we can have a positive influence on teens, an influence that might direct them to Jesus Christ, then we should do that," says Bokowy, who calls his work "a seed-planting ministry."

"The fruit of Young Life isn't seen for years," Bokowy says. "That's a challenge, because in the business world, we all want to see results now."

Bokowy, a father of two, began working in Young Life as a volunteer during his college days at Furman. After college, he joined the staff -- serving eight years in North Carolina and five in Columbia before returning to Greenville as area director in 2005. Office administrator Holly Chadowski, another Furman graduate, is the only other full-time staff member of an organization that sponsors clubs in eight Greenville County high schools and one middle school.

Bokowy became a Christian in the summer prior to his senior year of high school. When he joined Young Life that fall, he says the group "helped my faith grow and take off."

His role today is to cultivate volunteers who lead the individual clubs and to help the organization raise operating funds -- which it does primarily through an annual banquet.
The 2007 banquet, scheduled Tuesday evening at Christ Church Episcopal School, features music from the engaging voice of Georgia native Allen Levi -- a former trial attorney who walked away from that profession to focus on a songwriting and singing career.

The banquet, scheduled for 6:30 p.m. at the All Saints Center on the CCES campus, is the only Young Life fundraiser of the year. In recent years, the banquet has raised more than half of the Greenville area chapter's $267,000 annual budget.

The event has lured about 600 in each of the past three years. The appearance of the inspirational Levi, whose work was recently featured in Southern Living magazine, has Bokowy hoping for at least that many next week.

"The banquet is a fundraising tool for us, but it also gives us exposure. It enables more people to be informed, to see what we do, and better understand what we do," Bokowy says. "Hopefully, they'll support what we do."

The support helps the organization fund weekend and weeklong camps -- one in North Carolina and another in Colorado -- that have provided ideal settings for spiritual decisions.
"At the camps, we try to give the kids a picture of abundant life. Often, they say it's the best week of their lives, or the best weekend of their lives," says Bokowy.

Campers are charged a tuition; the support generated at the banquet provides scholarships. "We don't want to turn kids away. We do everything we can to provide scholarships, and the banquet helps us do that."