Sunday, January 25, 2015
The Glamorous Life of a Mama
Just heard these words from the bathroom, "Mama, I'm done going poopy."...and there's my cue.
Saturday, January 3, 2015
S P O I L E D #firstworldprobs
Let me just preface my rant with this statement: I love my family. I really do. I am thankful for them. I am. I promise.
Today was our oldest son's 15th birthday. Our family traditionally celebrates by going to dinner at the honoree's choice of restaurant, and then we come home for cake (also of their choice). This was the plan. We have not veered from this plan for as long as I can remember, yet the very first glitch we encountered was one related to scheduling. Our 17-year-old daughter was apparently invited to hang out with some friends tonight, and without thinking or consulting a parent, she agreed. When she mentioned it today, I said, "I don't mind if you go, but we WILL be going to dinner as a family to celebrate your brother's birthday, and we will NOT listen to you whine about needing to get back to do something else." I said this in a normal tone of voice...no hysterics. Well, the baby brother did not return from his first hunting trip until around 5:30 this afternoon. He needed a quick shower and clean clothes, so we were on the road by 6:30. As expected, the daughter was already huffing about "going this late", blah, blah, blah. Insert heartfelt "LORD.GIVE.ME.STRENGTH."
So, anyway, we made our way to the nearest Texas Roadhouse (this kid loves steak), and found an extremely crowded parking lot. We sent the birthday boy and his capable assistant/baby brother inside to "put our name in." Marcus parked the car just in time for the boys to return shaking their heads. I asked, "How long's the wait?" To which Jonas replied, "I don't even know. I couldn't get through the crowd to the podium." He was disappointed because TR really is his favorite, so I suggested hubby go inside and give it another try. He came back two minutes later singing the same song. "I couldn't get through there. WAY too many people." Okay then, NEXT.
We decided to try Outback. The 15-year-old went inside alone this time (his brother gave instructions on how to spell his name: "T H O M A S"). He was given a pager, but had no idea how long we would have to wait. We unloaded from the car and enjoyed this little gem of a conversation as we made our way into the restaurant:
Daughter: "I got sick last time I was here."
Me: "You haven't been here in over a year."
Daughter: "Yeah, but I got sick."
Me: "Well, what did you have? Just pick something else."
Daughter: "I don't know what I had, but every time we go here, I get sick."
So now, it's "EVERY time." Insert pasted-on smile and stilted "Thank you" to the hostess holding the door.
The crowd was much smaller than the one at TR, so at 7:30, we settled in to wait for our pager to light up. At 7:40, I mentioned to Marcus he might want to go pick up the cake I had ordered because the cookie place closed at 9:00, and I didn't know if we would be able to get there by then. I asked his order in case we were seated before he returned, and he left. Insert teen angst and sulky expressions (too numerous to detail here). I first heard these words uttered around 7:43, "We should have just stayed at Texas Roadhouse. This is taking too long." We were sitting down on a couch...they were watching basketball...texting on their phones, for Pete's sake. But oh my, they suffer so. Insert heartfelt EYEROLL. I kid you not, approximately four minutes later, I heard the same eight words, "We should have just stayed at Texas Roadhouse." It was like a symphony of discontent. Hubby re-enters stage right. "You're still waiting? We probably should have just stayed at Texas Roadhouse." Insert a silent, "ARE YOU KIDDING ME, PEOPLE?!" About that time, our pager went off, and we were seated.
I will say the actual ordering process went relatively smoothly, so we will skip ahead to the food's arrival. Soup and salad course went off without a hitch...well, except for Thomas exclaiming loudly, "Where's my food?!" When the entrees arrived, I noticed the 15-year-old carefully examining his steak with a disgruntled look on his face. He cut around the edges of his 8 oz. sirloin, and discarded any "unworthy" remnants. The daughter ordered a quesadilla, and really, how can anyone mess up a tortilla and melted cheese? But then, I heard the hubs say, "Why are their plates so small now? Did you notice that?" I believe this is the point where I put both hands on my face and whispered, "I just can't take it." The 17-year-old asked, "Why are YOU being so dramatic and acting like we are crazy?' Insert closed eyes and significant amount of prayer.
There were other highlights like having to ask for silverware (GASP), and request drink refills (the HORROR), but we made it through. I am sharing this story not to make my family look bad because remember, I love them with every fiber of my being. And believe me, I am just as spoiled, but for some reason, this experience just REALLY got to me. This was a treat, a celebration, yet there was an abundance of complaints and grumbling. I was convicted by how often I complain and/or grumble when HE blesses me or provides for me.
So, now, the question is, are we the only family with this ridiculous mentality? What do we do to fix it? I will tell you, as I sat there tonight, I had thoughts of slapping a bowl o'rice and some water down on our table. EVERY MEAL. EVERY DAY. FOR AT LEAST 30 DAYS. Is that too extreme? What are your thoughts? Do you have a solution or suggestion?
Please, Lord, help us to be content. Help us to be grateful for the blessings you have so freely given. Remind us of the gift of family time, whether it is at Texas Roadhouse, Taco Bell, or around our own table with rice and water. We are definitely works in progress, and the struggle is real. Ugh.
Today was our oldest son's 15th birthday. Our family traditionally celebrates by going to dinner at the honoree's choice of restaurant, and then we come home for cake (also of their choice). This was the plan. We have not veered from this plan for as long as I can remember, yet the very first glitch we encountered was one related to scheduling. Our 17-year-old daughter was apparently invited to hang out with some friends tonight, and without thinking or consulting a parent, she agreed. When she mentioned it today, I said, "I don't mind if you go, but we WILL be going to dinner as a family to celebrate your brother's birthday, and we will NOT listen to you whine about needing to get back to do something else." I said this in a normal tone of voice...no hysterics. Well, the baby brother did not return from his first hunting trip until around 5:30 this afternoon. He needed a quick shower and clean clothes, so we were on the road by 6:30. As expected, the daughter was already huffing about "going this late", blah, blah, blah. Insert heartfelt "LORD.GIVE.ME.STRENGTH."
So, anyway, we made our way to the nearest Texas Roadhouse (this kid loves steak), and found an extremely crowded parking lot. We sent the birthday boy and his capable assistant/baby brother inside to "put our name in." Marcus parked the car just in time for the boys to return shaking their heads. I asked, "How long's the wait?" To which Jonas replied, "I don't even know. I couldn't get through the crowd to the podium." He was disappointed because TR really is his favorite, so I suggested hubby go inside and give it another try. He came back two minutes later singing the same song. "I couldn't get through there. WAY too many people." Okay then, NEXT.
We decided to try Outback. The 15-year-old went inside alone this time (his brother gave instructions on how to spell his name: "T H O M A S"). He was given a pager, but had no idea how long we would have to wait. We unloaded from the car and enjoyed this little gem of a conversation as we made our way into the restaurant:
Daughter: "I got sick last time I was here."
Me: "You haven't been here in over a year."
Daughter: "Yeah, but I got sick."
Me: "Well, what did you have? Just pick something else."
Daughter: "I don't know what I had, but every time we go here, I get sick."
So now, it's "EVERY time." Insert pasted-on smile and stilted "Thank you" to the hostess holding the door.
The crowd was much smaller than the one at TR, so at 7:30, we settled in to wait for our pager to light up. At 7:40, I mentioned to Marcus he might want to go pick up the cake I had ordered because the cookie place closed at 9:00, and I didn't know if we would be able to get there by then. I asked his order in case we were seated before he returned, and he left. Insert teen angst and sulky expressions (too numerous to detail here). I first heard these words uttered around 7:43, "We should have just stayed at Texas Roadhouse. This is taking too long." We were sitting down on a couch...they were watching basketball...texting on their phones, for Pete's sake. But oh my, they suffer so. Insert heartfelt EYEROLL. I kid you not, approximately four minutes later, I heard the same eight words, "We should have just stayed at Texas Roadhouse." It was like a symphony of discontent. Hubby re-enters stage right. "You're still waiting? We probably should have just stayed at Texas Roadhouse." Insert a silent, "ARE YOU KIDDING ME, PEOPLE?!" About that time, our pager went off, and we were seated.
I will say the actual ordering process went relatively smoothly, so we will skip ahead to the food's arrival. Soup and salad course went off without a hitch...well, except for Thomas exclaiming loudly, "Where's my food?!" When the entrees arrived, I noticed the 15-year-old carefully examining his steak with a disgruntled look on his face. He cut around the edges of his 8 oz. sirloin, and discarded any "unworthy" remnants. The daughter ordered a quesadilla, and really, how can anyone mess up a tortilla and melted cheese? But then, I heard the hubs say, "Why are their plates so small now? Did you notice that?" I believe this is the point where I put both hands on my face and whispered, "I just can't take it." The 17-year-old asked, "Why are YOU being so dramatic and acting like we are crazy?' Insert closed eyes and significant amount of prayer.
There were other highlights like having to ask for silverware (GASP), and request drink refills (the HORROR), but we made it through. I am sharing this story not to make my family look bad because remember, I love them with every fiber of my being. And believe me, I am just as spoiled, but for some reason, this experience just REALLY got to me. This was a treat, a celebration, yet there was an abundance of complaints and grumbling. I was convicted by how often I complain and/or grumble when HE blesses me or provides for me.
So, now, the question is, are we the only family with this ridiculous mentality? What do we do to fix it? I will tell you, as I sat there tonight, I had thoughts of slapping a bowl o'rice and some water down on our table. EVERY MEAL. EVERY DAY. FOR AT LEAST 30 DAYS. Is that too extreme? What are your thoughts? Do you have a solution or suggestion?
Please, Lord, help us to be content. Help us to be grateful for the blessings you have so freely given. Remind us of the gift of family time, whether it is at Texas Roadhouse, Taco Bell, or around our own table with rice and water. We are definitely works in progress, and the struggle is real. Ugh.
Thursday, January 1, 2015
My anti-resolution for 2015
I like lists. I like challenges. I even like the idea of resolutions.
4Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths. 5Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.
I love this. Yes, I would like to be more fit/healthy, and sure, I would like to be the best wife/mama/daughter/sister/friend/employee I can be, but I am choosing not to set specific goals related to those aspirations for the new year. I am going to be intentional about being unintentional. Honestly, this makes me a little nervous. I don't do well without a "to do list", so will my 2015 be a complete failure? I don't think so. I am not planning to become lazy or lackadaisical. I am actually hoping to be more productive and purposeful as I learn more about His ways. I will always be a work in progress, but my hope is in Him ALL DAY LONG.
But this year, I am fighting against myself, and I am not making a resolution. Instead, I have picked a couple of verses for 2015. I found these in Psalm 25 during December, and they have become part of my daily conversation with Him.
I love this. Yes, I would like to be more fit/healthy, and sure, I would like to be the best wife/mama/daughter/sister/friend/employee I can be, but I am choosing not to set specific goals related to those aspirations for the new year. I am going to be intentional about being unintentional. Honestly, this makes me a little nervous. I don't do well without a "to do list", so will my 2015 be a complete failure? I don't think so. I am not planning to become lazy or lackadaisical. I am actually hoping to be more productive and purposeful as I learn more about His ways. I will always be a work in progress, but my hope is in Him ALL DAY LONG.
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