Five Minute Friday--Voice

Go!

Talking
Laughing
Singing
Humming
Mumbling
Whispering
Yelling
Roaring
(Writing?)

No  matter how we do it, God wants to hear our voice.  Loud as a shout.  Soft as a whisper.  As long as we're talking to Him.

Sometimes it's hard for me remember that.  I hate the sound of my own voice.  It's nasal-y.  I could never be an award winning singer.  Forget award winning.  Just carrying a tune is difficult.  Sometimes it's hard for me to speak up, speak my mind, speak the truth.  Why do I fear the sound of my own voice?  After all, God is the one who gave it to me.  He wants me to use it.

Writing is also a way to use my voice.  One that I find a little more safe than the spoken word.  Seeing words come to life in black and white feels good to me--better than hearing them on my lips.  I hope that I can use the words that come through my fingers rather than out of my mouth to glorify God in some way.  Still searching.....

Stop!



Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:

We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag#FiveMinuteFriday

No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.

Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.

So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.

Lessons From Breakfast

The twins are really pretty good eaters meaning they usually eat most things that are put in front of them.  Or perhaps they've just trained me so well now that I've learned to offer only the things that they like.  It's probably the latter, those sneaky kids!  :)  But either way, most meals are usually eaten without the "picky kid" drama that we still deal with from Olivia.

One morning I was feeding the kids breakfast and I peeled a banana for them.  I cut it in half for them to share.  I put one half on Colin's tray which he immediately grabbed and stuffed in his mouth.  But when I tried to give the other half to Sofia, she resisted.  I looked at her, raised my eyebrows and said, "No?"  The only response I got was a super-angry frown complete with pouty bottom lip.  That's not like her.  She usually gobbles up bananas.  

"Okay, she doesn't want it.  She must be full now", I thought.  So I put the other half on her brother's tray thinking he'd gladly finish it off.  As soon as I did that, Sofia looked at me, obviously offended, pointed at it and said "I want 'nana!!!"  

Sorry, sweet girl!  I must have misunderstood that bottom lip!  So I tried to hand her the same peeled banana half I had offered before.  Again, I got the angry face but this time she also shook her head emphatically to tell me NO!  And she pointed to the bunch of bananas on the counter and cried out, her voice like a screechy grackle bird, "I want 'nana!"  

Finally I got it!  She didn't want a peeled banana half.  She wanted HER OWN banana, partially peeled, that she could hold herself and eat like a "big girl".  Frustrated, I said to her, "Ugh, Sofia!  Why isn't THIS banana good enough for you?  It's the SAME THING!"  

But it wasn't what she thought she wanted.  And it made me think of  how many times in my life I have done the same thing with God.  He offers me a blessing, but it's not exactly what I want--or THINK I want--and I dig my heels in and tell Him it's not good enough.  I want it the way I want it or I don't want it at all.  I can think back on several times in my life where I did this.  Sometimes I didn't realize I was doing it.  Sometimes I just ignored the blessing or misinterpreted it.  Other times I was just oblivious.  But there were several instances where I fought Him tooth and nail to force things to be the way I wanted them to be.  His plan was not good enough.  And because I refused to see things His way or even entertain the thought that He may be right and I might be wrong, I paid a huge emotional price for it.  But unlike the frustrated parent that I know I can be when my kids are obstinate, God's patience and faithfulness was constant.  He gently nudged me along helping me find my way and held my hand as I stumbled down a path that I was trying to forge for myself.  He still helps me make good of my life today despite all the poor choices I've made along the way.  

Going forward, I know that I'll continue to mess up and make mistakes as I go through life.  But going forward I plan to be on the lookout for God's blessings and receive them ALL with an open heart and open mind.  

An open letter of apology to my husband

Dear Vincent,

Today the November 2012 issue of Better Homes and Gardens came in the mail.  You know, the magazine that's about all things home decor and cooking that just randomly started showing up in our mailbox one day.  Well I had a few seconds of downtime this afternoon (if you can believe that) and decided to read through this issue instead of tossing it or giving it to my mom like I normally do.  Oh my.  Let me tell you about some of the stuff in there!  I saw "37 must-have recipes for a homemade Thanksgiving".  I read about how to make the perfect pie crust.  Also saw some really "creative touches for our holiday table".  What holiday table, right?  Are you laughing at the thought of me reading this yet?  Don't feel bad for admitting it.  I chuckled at myself, too.  I admit that I enjoyed flipping through the pages and seeing what STYLISH homes look like and reading about what it takes to prepare a REAL meal.  And yet with the turn of every page, felt less and less like a good wife.  I am definitely no June Clever.  Martha Stewart would laugh at me.  Carol Brady would be disgusted by me--after all, she's got SIX kids!  I'm less than ideal so I'm here to say I'm sorry to you--sorry that you married a girl:

*who will never don an apron while cooking dinner.  If I spill something on my shirt, I'll just change shirts.
*who doesn't know how to cook a turkey.
*who's known to leave clean laundry in the dryer for several days and just pulls clothes out as-needed.
*who doesn't know how to bake a pie from scratch.
*who doesn't like to bake, period.
*whose idea of decorating is just copying styles out of a Pottery Barn catalog--and even then it doesn't look very good.
*who has about 5 meals in her current dinner rotation.
*who owns a sewing machine but used it one time to make 4 square throw pillows for her couch.
*who told you it was better that you iron your own shirts b/c I might ruin them.
*whose idea of cooking dinner usually involves at least one dish that comes out of a box, bag or Crock Pot.
*who will probably never have a complete set of her wedding china, flatware or stemware.
*who hates to vacuum the staircase so she never does.
*who may never get the twins' room painted.
*who will never be "the hostess with the mostest".

I know that I am hopelessly flawed and I am the complete antithesis of what the model wife should be.  But before you start to reconsider your choice in life-mates, you should also know you married a girl:
*who loves her family more than she loves herself.
*who looks forward to all the Disney World vacations we're going to take with our kids.
*who thinks you are an amazing father.
*who loves that you are her best friend.
*who would rather spend time with you than anyone else.
*who appreciates and admires your work ethic.
*who loves your kind and generous nature.
*who is thankful to God for bringing you into her life.
*who thinks you are very intelligent.
*who prays for you.
*who puts you and the kids first.
*who loves to cook dinner with you.
*who is grateful for your technical expertise--especially when we have a computer crisis.
*who is thankful you never complain against her.
*who will love you for the rest of her life.

So maybe I should publish a magazine for all the wives out there like me--the poor man's Martha Stewart.  Or maybe I should take a cooking class instead.  Either way, I know I'm not the perfect wife, Vincent.  But I'm YOUR wife.  And I couldn't be any prouder.  Thanks for loving me, for being wonderful you and always being there for me!

Love Forever,
Allison

Five Minute Friday--Look

Go!

"What does not satisfy when we find it was not the thing we were desiring."  C.S. Lewis

Human beings spend so much time looking for things--lost car keys, a good TV show to watch on Monday evening, a new job, true love.  In all the searching, we still seem to come up empty.  Whether we never find our missing car keys or we go through life never feeling like we've met our soul mate.

Seek and ye shall find.

The best thing we can look for and that we're guaranteed to find is God and His love.  He will never leave us.  He's the one constant in our lives that we can count on.  Finding him will ensure we find all the other pieces in our lives that we cannot seem to find on our own.  What a great blessing is this!

Stop!


Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:

We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag#FiveMinuteFriday

No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.

Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.

So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.

Time for a Facebook hiatus?

Two things are very evident to me today:

1.  Politics--especially the presidential election--brings out the worst in most people.
2.  Facebook is beating me down.

Now combine Facebook with politics (in this case, the 2012 presidential election) and you have a perfect storm of BS.  And the BS storm of Facebook is beating me down.  Well, Facebook itself isn't beating me down.  The people on it are.  It seems that I can't log on these days without seeing at least 100 negative political posts in my news feed at any given time.  Ok, I exaggerate.  But it's A LOT.  And by 'negative' I mean the posts that involve name-calling and finger-pointing.  You know, general third grade behavior.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not speaking to all Facebook users who post entries that are political in nature.  In all fairness, some posts are genuine attempts at providing facts about the candidates, their policies, etc. and are what I consider to be fairly innocuous (as innocuous as a political statement can be).  Some people are even willing to concede that their candidate of choice may not have all the right and/or best answers.  These folks don't seem to be out to attack any one person or group of people.  They are passionate about their beliefs. But they are passionate and respectful at the same time.  And I respect that.  And I have no problem with these people.  In other words, there is some intelligent, thought-provoking political commentary out there.

But finding those little nuggets of sanity is like trying to mine for social media gold.

Most of what I see is what my very good friend calls "political vitriol".  Anyone with a Facebook account knows exactly what I'm talking about.  There's nothing redeeming about these posts.  They're full of negativity, nastiness and in some cases, downright hatred.  I think more so than promoting their political philosophies, these hateful people are just trying to appear intelligent and satisfy their overweening egos.  And politics is just as good an excuse as any to spew their arrogance and hatred.  They bait their Facebook status "hooks" just daring someone with an opposing opinion to bite.  And when someone is foolish enough to take the bait, a back-and-forth Facebook duel begins.  Sometimes words are spoken with such venom and anger you can feel it.  Why all the anger?  Each person tries to outwit the other with his/her vast political knowledge but really most of the time they just end up looking like jerks because they've resorted to name calling, cursing and other childish behaviors.  Makes me tired just thinking about it.

While I'm on the subject, what I've never understood is why people even throw out political opinions in general on a social media outlet like Facebook--as if anyone cares what they think.  Most people out there are probably already rooted in their political beliefs, right?  So what any one person has to say contrary to those beliefs isn't going to change the other person's mind--especially on a forum like Facebook.  So what's the point?  Just for the sake of the argument?  I think part of it is that it's easy to go toe-to-toe with someone when you're essentially arguing with a screen instead of a person.  And if you've picked an argument with someone you don't know, the veil of anonymity allows for safe arrow slinging.  And what's actually comical to me is that people are SO convinced that their candidate is the better man and the other is evil.  They are adamant that their candidate is brilliant and the other an imbecile.  They swear that their candidate's ideas and policies are the answers to the country's problems and the other's are merely fodder.  Do they not realize what they are saying about their golden boy are the exact same things that "the other side" is saying about their golden boy?  Makes for a pretty flimsy argument if you ask me.  But I digress.  Such is the typical mess that goes along with an election year.  This part--the "my-party-is-better-than-your-party" attitude--never changes and I can accept that.  I can also accept that more often than not, it's going to show up on Facebook.  But the outright nastiness and hatred I've been seeing for the last several months, I can do without.

So to all you Negative Nellies, Naysayers and No-Wayers out there:  stop using Facebook as your political soapbox--especially if you're going to act like my 11 year old nephew when you do it!  But now that I think about it, to make that comparison degrades my nephew.  He's not mean or hateful, just merely a child.  So people, try having MATURE and INTELLIGENT debates and discussions with your adversaries during a phone conversation or (gasp) face-to-face.  Verbally duke it out via text message if that's your thing.  Just leave those of us who do not go to Facebook to get our political information out of it!  Thank you!

Five Minute Friday--Race

Go!

Race--meaning one's ethnic background--will always be of importance to me.  You see, my husband is black.  I am white.  Our children are a beautiful blend of the both of us.  Of course I think that.  I am a mother.

But how will society treat my children?  Will they grow up knowing they are loved and accepted by others for who THEY are and NOT who their parents are?  This will always be my fear.  It was my fear before I even had children with my husband.  I know the best thing I can do is remind them every day that they are children of God FIRST.  And that they were loved and accepted by Him before they were even born.  God will always be for them.  He loves them for who they are--because they are our children.  Wonderful, sweet kids.  I hope everyone takes the time to get to know them.

Stop!


Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:

We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag#FiveMinuteFriday

No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.

Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.

So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.

Pneumonia

Well, for the last 5 days pneumonia has been ruling my life.  And it's ruled with an iron fist.  Have you ever had it?  First timer right here.  And it's been pretty bad.  I started feeling bad on Sunday afternoon.  I was really, really tired.  But it went beyond just being physically overworked.  It was taking real effort to move.  I've had that feeling before and it's always come just before my body succumbs to some illness that robs me of me for a while.  Since this icky feeling wasn't new to me, I was willing to bet something was about to hit.  I just didn't know it was gonna be a sucker punch to the gut--or in this case, to the chest.

On Monday morning, I was supposed to take the kids to a MOPS play date at a local pumpkin farm.  We were supposed to be there at 9am--early for those of us with 3 kids under the age of 5.  After a very fitful night's sleep, I tried to get out of bed that morning and each limb of body felt like it weighed 2 tons and my entire lower body ached.  I managed to drag myself into the shower and actually put a little make up on.  But I couldn't overcome the weakness that I felt.  I went upstairs to get the kids out of bed and each step up those stairs was brutal.  I had to hold on to the rail as if I was an elderly woman.  My legs hurt as if I was running a 5K, not climbing a simple flight of stairs (yes, for ME running a 5K invokes pain.  Stop laughing).  And by the time I got to the top of the stairs, my body felt like Jell-O--all wobbly and unsteady.  But I managed to get everyone downstairs without passing out even thought I felt like I was going to.

My next thought was that eating breakfast would be the solution and give me that much-needed energy boost.  Luckily Vincent had the day off from work it being Columbus Day and all (thank you, banker's holidays).  He was helping feed the kids breakfast while I trudged around the kitchen, my fuzzy slippers scratching across the tile floor because I couldn't muster up the energy to actually pick up my feet.  I made my customary breakfast of a protein shake and drank that down quickly hoping I'd instantly perk up.  Nope.  I was just as drained.  At that point, the thought of having to dig down deep and somehow find the energy to load the kids into the car, much less chase them around a farm for a couple of hours, was just too much.  The weakness was so debilitating, I swear I could literally hear my body tell me I AM NOT DOING THAT TODAY SO JUST FORGET IT!   So I bailed on the play date and immediately went back to bed.  I slept for a couple of hours.  I woke up feeling just as exhausted.  I knew something bad was happening.  I took my temperature and sure enough, I had a fever.  My first thought was THE FLU!  EEEK!  The dreaded flu!  I figured that's all it could be since my only symptoms were fatigue, fever and muscle aches...well, and an occasional cough here and there but I just kind of blew that off.  And I was kicking myself for having not already gotten my annual flu shot.  Knowing I was going to need Tamiflu, stat, I made an appointment at one of those out-patient treatment centers, AKA "Doc-in-the-box" or as we used to call the on-campus clinic at Baylor back in the day, "The Quack Shack", since it was after hours and my doctor's office was already closed.

Since I had already self-diagnosed in my mind, I had The Quack Shack test me for the flu.  Negative.  What the ???  Then what else could it be??  I had joked around earlier that day that I probably had West Nile.  Would I be sorry for that now??  Had I jinxed myself???  The doctor suggested I do blood work and take a chest X ray since I had mentioned my cough to him--as an afterthought, of course.  I reluctantly agreed thinking this was going to be a waste of my precious time.  So I got zapped and pricked.  And I waited.

Diagnosis:  PNEUMONIA.

What?!  I was barely coughing!  Aren't you supposed to hack your lungs out with that illness?  But the doctor explained there were some spots on my lungs in the Xray and the results of my blood work suggested a bacterial infection but that we had probably caught it early.  Nice.  So two antibiotic prescriptions later I'm home in bed feeling like...well, someone who had pneumonia, which is to say really crappy.  But still not really coughing.  Well that changed in less than 24 hours.  By the next morning I had all the typical symptoms:  fatigue, chest tightness, fever and COUGH.  I felt awful!  Now luckily for me, my prince-of-a-husband stayed home to take care of the kids while I hacked and coughed and moaned and groaned.  No, I'm not a very good patient.  And despite that fact which is no doubt unpleasant for him, he stayed home yesterday as well!  What a good man!

So that's been my life for the last 5 days.  I'm fever free today for the first time since Monday.  Maybe I'm starting to turn a corner now.  I hope.  And while I had it bad, I haven't had it as bad as some and thank God I never had to go to the hospital as I understand some do when it gets out of control.  I still feel pretty tired and achy today but I went ahead and sent Vincent on to work.  I think he was going crazy here with our 3 ring circus.

Needless to say I haven't felt much like blogging, writing, reading, meditating--basically I haven't felt like participating in life this week.  I mean, you know you're in a bad way when washing your hair is the biggest feat you accomplish in a day.  But having the down time gave me a chance to think about some of the things I eventually do want to write about on my blog.  So I got out a notebook and started to jot down ideas and flesh them out a bit.  We'll see what comes out of it.

Five Minute Friday--Welcome

Go!

Welcome means to accept somebody into your life, your home, etc with open arms.  I grew up as a child who only went to church on major holidays.  I called myself a Christian but wasn't a very faithful believer.  I went to a very large, very affluent church as a child and young adult.  Being from a single-parent household, we never had a lot so I never felt like I fit in at my church.  My insecurities kept me from feeling welcome in the house of God.  As a newly married woman, church was never high on priority list.  Then my children came along and that changed.  My family and I found a church in the town where we live and we love it.  I have always felt a sense of belonging there.  Like I was finally welcome.  What always strikes me as wonderful is that when we take communion every Sunday, our pastor says everyone is welcome at God's table.  And I know he's talking to me.  God wants to welcome me to the feast.  And for that, I am truly thankful.

Stop!

Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:

We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag#FiveMinuteFriday

No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.

Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.

So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.

Olivia, my tiny dancer

Miss Olivia started ballet/tap combo class a couple of weeks ago. This is her second year at the same studio. Her teachers tell me she's an excellent student--always listening and always tries her best!

Olivia and her teacher, Ms. Arrica

Ready for class

Butterfly day

I hope I can eventually figure out how to post video clips on here because I have some cute ones of her doing some ballet and tap combinations and practicing her leaps.

I really hope Olivia grows to love dance as much as I did (and still do).  I didn't get involved in dance until I was 15 years old--a geriatric in terms of dancing.  So I really only learned the basics and never advanced any further.  And my passion for it waaaay exceeded my abilities.  I knew it, too.  I danced with girls that were light years ahead of me in terms of technique.  But I still danced because I loved it so much.  My dream still to this day is to be a dancer/performer on Broadway.  But that ship sailed many, many, MANY moons ago, not that I ever had a real shot at it in the first place.  

Now my dream is modified.  I would love to see Olivia become the dancer I never could be.  I'm so glad we're able to put her in lessons now when she's still a child.  I hope that her teachers can encourage her, help her develop her talent and foster in her that love of dance that still lives in my heart.  But as much as I'd like to see her fulfill my dream (and yes, I know it's MY dream), I know my job as a parent is to help her discover her own dreams and realize them.  And that's exactly what I intend to do.  God has a purpose for her in this world--one that is unique to her.  And my ULTIMATE dream for her is that through God, she discovers what that purpose is and she lives for it, breathes it and owns it every day of her life.  What a joy that will be!  And if it just happens to be dance, then even better!  :)

Conflicted

I just realized today that my 20 year HS reunion is in 9 months.  And I'm really having trouble making sense of how I feel about this.  I find it hard not to immediately think of the standard cliches dealing with aging and the passing of time.  I really hate to go there in my writing but I really can't think of any other way to articulate how I feel.  In some ways, 20 years has truly flown by.  Some of my memories from high school are so vivid, it's as if they happened yesterday and while I'm still young at heart, I have to remind myself that I'm not as young as I think (or feel) I am anymore.  But in other ways, so much has happened to me in these 20 years that thinking about it all overwhelms me and makes me tired.  Like I've done a lifetime's-worth of living in 20 years.  And I can't decide if being 20 years older is a good thing or not.  I mean, it's certainly better than the alternative, but aren't we all supposed to want to be 'forever young' as the song suggests?

So does this mean I'm on the brink of a mid-life crisis?  I don't know.  Father Time is messing with me and surely he's getting a chuckle out of it at my expense.

All I really know is that I'm conflicted.  Conflicted not only about how I feel about being out of high school for 20 years, but also about what I've done with that time I was given.  What have I accomplished?  Has it really meant anything to me and to others?  If I died tomorrow, what would people say about me and my life?  I feel like I've done okay for myself but according to whom?  What standards do I use to evaluate these things?  I think what stands out the most as I reflect on this is that practically every decision I have ever made in my life has been based on the reliance of my own "wisdom".  I hardly ever went to God in prayer about anything.  I never prayed about what college I should attend, what major I should choose, if I should go to graduate school or not, and for 13 long years, I didn't pray about the awful, bitter feelings I had about the one and only real job I ever had.  I never sought His guidance and I think that's pretty significant (and not in a good way).  I've just been kind of muddling through life living off the fruits of dumb luck which incidentally aren't that great.  This is not how I want to live the next 20 years of my life.  I want more.  I want authentic purpose--the kind that I believe only God can help me find--so that perhaps I can go to my 40 year reunion with amazing stories to share!