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A Family That Needs Our Prayers

Yesterday, I received some sad news.  But first, I have to give you some background information.

Three summers ago, I worked as as a teacher at my church’s summer preschool program.  I was assigned the 13-18 month class.  I have five or six little ones to care for.

During our three months together, one of my little girls’ father lost his battle with lung cancer.  He left behind four children and a wife who was very much in love with him.  It was an incredibly sad time.

I went back to my regular job that August, but the mom and I greeted each other fondly whenever our paths crossed.  Her second eldest child was on the school swim team with Rooster the next two years, so I got to renew my friendship with her youngest, who had been my charge that summer. We laughed as we recalled her daughter’s neon green poop diapers that gave me the gaggies that summer.  It was weeks before I figured out that mom was feeding her Apple Jacks for breakfast each morning.

Wednesday night, the mom passed away in her sleep; a heart attack is suspected as the culprit.

Chicky shared the news with me yesterday when she got home from school.  She had run into some of the girls from church…friends of the children.  The family is active in our church.  Chicky knew that I had been personally involved with them that summer.

Needless to say, I was shocked.

These poor children are now parentless.  The oldest is in 9th grade, and the youngest (my former pupil) had her preschool graduation last night…sans Mom.

I spoke to one of their close family friends.  Her stepdaughter had been my helper that summer, so I felt comfortable calling.  She said that everyone has been walking around numb.  All that she knew was that the funeral will be on Monday.

My heart is so sad for the tragedy that has fallen on this family time and time again.  Several years ago, they lost a baby…the one between the third and fourth children.  Little Miss had arrived a year later, turning grief into joy.  Then, to lose a father…and now a mom who laughed easily, jumped in her PJ’s as soon as she could each day (sometimes as early as 3pm), and lived as easy a life as she could despite having her hands full with four active children.

Please pray for them.  Pray specifically that wise decisions will be made as to the care of the children.  I pray that they would somehow trust that this is part of God’s perfect plan for each of their lives.  Nothing happens without His allowing it, as awful as that sometimes seems.

A Teaser (Or Two…or Three)

Ok…so I’m not playing nice this morning.  But the cupcake was good!  If you’ll recall, I made a batch of them yesterday.  Chicky teaches a group of middle school girls at church on Wednesday afternoons, and one of her pupils is moving next week.  She wanted to give her a proper send-off.  I fit all but two in a couple of rubbermaid containers.  I ate one and phtographed the other.

In knitting news, take a look at this:

It’s my Swallowtail Lace Scarf.  I still need to block it, but it felt soooooo good to get it off my needles yesterday!  It currently measures 32″ across the top.  I’m going to run out and get more T-pins and a spongy play mat to block it on.  I cannot wait to see how it turns out!

With that project almost complete, I jumped right into another one…the Mexican Rainbow Shawl I told you about before.  Here’s what I have so far:

That’s the beginnings of the center rectangle.  The pattern calls for a garter stitch, but the picture in the book looks like it’s another stitch.  I guessed at the Trinity Stitch and have, thus, already “customized” this shawl.  Although the stitch is not a lot of fun to execute, I think it looks divine!  The shawl will be traveling with me as we drive to south Florida for Chicky’s big games this weekend.

What Can You Do In an Hour?

I found out by doing the following during my Planning period today:

  1. Hitting the grocery store for cake mix, frosting, baking cups, and chocolate (for me, of course).
  2. Baking 24 cupcakes in two separate batches because I only have one cupcake pan.
  3. Making three cups of apple/orange juice for Chicky, who has a cold.
  4. Cleaning up the kitchen from said baking and juicing.
  5. Eating lunch while studying for tonight’s Bible study (Luke 15 – go read it!).

I even managed to make it back to school before the second bell for third period rang.

It’s amazing what you can accomplish when you set your mind to it.

In All Fairness…

…I thought I should balance out my previous post about Chicky with some good things she does.

Granted, disrespect is NEVER acceptable.  I know that, and you know that.

However, it’s fair to say that I expect my children to do quite a few things around the house.

I think you’ve seen my chore list before.  I’m feeling a bit too lazy to hunt for the jpg.  A few years ago, I created a spreadsheet of the chores they are expected to complete each week.  We don’t really use it any more, but it serves as a guide for them.  I also threaten to print it out when things aren’t done in a timely manner.

One of the neatest things that Chicky does, and it’s been all of her own volition, is the “big” grocery shopping trip every two weeks.  As soon as the Mr. gets paid, she creates a list of meals for the next two weeks.  Then, she writes out a grocery list of all items needed.  She knows she needs to take my car because it has more room in the back.  Sometimes Rooster will go with her.

I can only imagine the whispers that must follow them down each aisle. They’ve shared stories with me.

You probably won’t believe this, but Chicky and Rooster did the shopping for Thanksgiving weekend.

Yes, you read that right.

What mom would, in her right mind, allow her teenagers to do such important shopping?  Call it laziness, call it picking your battles.  Either way, they asked, and I said, “Why not.”

Chicky said that as they shopped for generic items, except for certain items like ketchup and spaghetti sauce (we like the brand names), they progressed at a rapid speed.  As they debated about vinegar and cooking wine, a nice lady stepped in to explain the difference.

Chicky says that she always gets funny looks as she navigates her very full buggy to the cash register.  She’s 5’1″…a tiny thing who doesn’t look her age.  She’s had people ask her where her mom is.  You know they are wondering how she’s going to pay for the food.  That’s when she whips out my debit card and slides it through the keypad like a seasoned pro.

Mama has taught her well.

Chicky regularly cooks dinner…often preferring her own cooking to mine.  Rooster has started assisting her.

Both kids launder their own clothes, although I am willing to throw their’s in when I have a small load.  They have learned how to hang their clothes to dry and have even stopped complaining about it.

They scoop dog poop, sweep the house, vacuum, and wash dishes (no using the dishwasher here!).  They are also expected to keep their rooms and bathroom clean.

Oh yeah…no easy life for them.  And no allowance for them either.  They gave up their allowances when we went to unlimited texting.  Besides that, I do not believe that children should be paid to do the work that needs to be done, and that they are capable of doing.  They will, hopefully, be in the habit of taking care of a home when they’re on their own one day.

They participate in youth group activities (both regularly teach the middle school kids on Wednesday nights), maintain good grades (Rooster has a 4.0, and Chicky has around a 3.2), in addition to other after-school activities.  Chicky also babysits two or three afternoons a week.  Not to mention her soccer…

I really do have wonderful children.  I just think that they take things for granted.  Perhaps less so since I lost my cushy job, but still, the fact that I’ve always worked my schedule around them…

Hmmm…I sure didn’t mean this to be a bragging post.  I think it’s always good to take a balanced look…the good and the ugly…to be a better parent that will, hopefully, turn into a friend when the kids are grown.

AuburnChick is a Handywoman

Last night, while cooking dinner and cleaning up as I went along (that’s the kind of cook I am), my garbage disposal stopped working.  Right in the middle of grinding up leftovers.

The silence that followed was ominous.  I checked to make sure my dishcloth had not gotten stuck inside (fyi…go to the circuit breaker and turn off the disposal BEFORE doing this…if you’ve ever read the book Firestarter, you’ll get the point).

Nothing was inside.  I went to the garage and popped the circuit breaker a few times.  Still nothing

Great.

I totally depend on my disposal.  I’ve had one all of my life and never had a problem.  I’m careful not to put things into it that I shouldn’t, even catching my mother-in-law before she could dump egg shells in it.  That’s one of those things you cannot grind up without ruining it.

I resigned myself to the fact that I would probably have to call a plumber, but I put off the task until I was fully awake this morning.

On a whim, I googled “How to fix a garbage disposal.”  I don’t know why I was surprised to have numerous links pop up, including one for a video!  I selected this link, not really hoping for much.

Guess what, people?

I didn’t even have to go past step #2 (pressing the reset button on the bottom of the disposal).

I pressed it, and Voila!  It works again!

Never underestimate google.  Google is my friend.

Gone Are the Days…

…when kids actually expressed appreciation for the things that were done for them.

Please allow me to vent for a few minutes.

Chicky has long been on a course for thinking she is better than me.  She’s been in this mind-set since she was in the second grade.  I kid you not.

I remember standing at the soccer fields bemoaning her latest mouth-off to a good friend, whose daughter was Chicky’s best friend.

You’ve read about some of her antics, but here are the latest that are really driving me over the edge, which is, perhaps, her goal…to have me committed to the funny farm.

We left for her practice on Saturday…a four-and-a-half hour drive from home.  I had decided to make her drive most of the way to give her interstate driving experience.  I also wanted her to get used to focusing on the road for long stretches of time since she’ll probably be going away to college in a year and a half.

She protested.  Her standard routine is to sit in the backseat of the car and watch movies on her laptop.

It’s an easy life, to be sure.  And, honestly, it’s a fair trade-off.  We want her legs to be in optimum shape for her soccer practices and games.

She started off driving, and things were going well.  I know that she is a safe driver, so I quickly settled into my seat and began working on my Swallowtail Lace Shawl.  Now, you know I must have been comfortable to be able to focus on a project with yarn overs, k2togs and p5togs.  Oh yeah, baby.  That’s what I’m talking about.

We left around 9am, so I didn’t talk much.  I wanted to give her a chance to wake up and acclimate to the rhythm of the road.  However, as time passed, we said a few things in passing conversation.

This was fine.

Until I stretched out a conversation into more than one sentence.  At that point, she glanced at me and said, “Now, Mama, just because you’re sitting beside me doesn’t mean that you can talk to me.”

Did your jaw just drop open?  Pick it back up.

She says stuff like this ALL the time.

Just like when she said to me, at the end of the evening when we were settling into bed after her evening practice, and I was shooting the breeze as the sleepies worked their way into my head, “Mama, why do you always do this when we go out of town by ourselves?”

The overall message?  Speak only when spoken to.

Perfect, as long as it goes both ways.

Today, I didn’t have a subbing job, so I laundered the clothes, shopped at Sam’s, paid bills, and cooked dinner.  Of course, according to Chicky, “Mama, you were home all day.”

Um, yeah, eating bon bons and watching Days of Our Lives.  Not!

She called me halfway through the day and asked me to take Airborne to her.  She’s either getting a cold or suffering from an allergy attack.  I grabbed what she wanted in addition to the Zicam.  Of course, I grabbed the wrong form of Airborne, only realizing it when I reached the school’s office.

Oh boy.  I warned Ms. D, the attendance lady (also my friend, whom I’ve blogged about before) that she was about to witness the ugly side of Chicky and might just see my ugly side come out as well.

Was I right or wrong?

Mama knows best.  Chicky pitched a fit when she saw the gummies instead of the fizzly tablet and refused to take the Zicam.

A stare-down ensued.  She must have seen, in my eyes, the image of a cell phone flying out the window.  She bowed to my request…command.  Ms. D looked at me incredulously saying, “I can’t believe that something that sweet would bow up at you like that.”  Obviously, she doesn’t know Chicky as well as I do.

Enter in dinnertime.

I made Swiss Steak, and boy did it smell good.  Chicky got home, took one look at it, and turned up her nose.  Of course, earlier today, she had texted me some advice an order to look on the Food Network’s website to find a recipe for round steak.

Um, I’ve got it covered, I wanted to say, but instead I asked her if she thought she had passed her AP Biology exam.

Score 1 for Mama.

Needless to say, I’m a bit miffed right now.  I’m seriously considering going on a cooking hiatus.  She thinks she can cook better?  Fine.

In my heart, I know that this is not the attitude that God calls me to, but oh boy.  I’m fighting myself, let me tell you.  If this had been a conversation between my mom and me, I would have found myself across the room, permanent wooden spoon mark on my rear.  She did not tolerate talk like this, and I rarely spoke out of turn.

Just another day in teenager-dom.

Sigh…

What Do You Really Believe?

I’ve been playing catch-up with my email.  I mean, I receive mail on my phone thanks to the handy-dandy data plan I pay an arm and a leg for but of which I was fully appreciative of this past weekend as I used the GPS to navigate around Jacksonville.  So, I’m not really missing out on important messages.

Because I’m not working today, I thought it would be a good idea to take a peek at the inbox on my computer.  I’ve put off reading a few things, including reminders for bills.

Yeah, I know…I’m just delaying the inevitable, but hey, it’s fun to live in ignorance for a while.

Anyhow, I had quite a few Way of the Master newsletters to read.  I prefer to read these on the computer because videos are always embedded in them…videos I do not want to miss.  I sometimes share them on my blog.

Today I watched a very poignant video.  It’s one that we can all identify with.  First, some background, and then the good stuff.

When I moved to north Florida from, as I like to call it, “Little New York,” (i.e. south Florida), I could hardly contain my excitement.  I knew that I would finally be surrounded by other active Christians.  When we looked at houses, I was touched by the crosses and Bibles clearly visible.

Over the last six years since we’ve moved back, I’ve discovered that there are just as many lost people here as there were down south.

Huh?

Oh, a lot more people attend church regularly here.  I mean, this is the Bible Belt.  BUT, merely attending church does not mean that one is a follower of Christ (as my Wednesday night Bible study leader is fond of calling Christians).  As I’ve had conversations with people, I’ve learned not to assume that they understand exactly what being “saved” entails.

Following Jesus means first recognizing yourself in need of a Savior.  It’s a humbling experience as you discover your status as a sinner, condemned to Hell.  But what a wonderful first step!  And then to understand that someone already paid the price for your sins!

Wow!

But a warning should be inserted here.  This decision should not come as the culmination of some emotional frenzy experienced at a revival or whatnot.  You have to understand the decision you’re making.

Last Wednesday night, my Bible study leader shared how, at the tender age of 18, as a new arrival at college and away from a Jewish home where organized religion was not practiced, she began attending church and started examining her heart, giving serious consideration to the life change she was about to make.

Huh?  As I sat there, my jaw slowly dropped open, and my eyes grew wide.  That an 18 year old would be so mature as to do that kind of thinking.  I was not that mature at that age.

As we studied Luke 14, we read a parable about a builder taking into account the cost to erect a tower, and a king understanding the foe he was about to do battle with and the cost to his troops.

My leader’s testimony gave me pause.  What about my own “conversion.”  Was it real?  I’m not so sure, but I do know that in the time since then (especially in the last few years), my relationship with God has deepened, and I have, in fact, had a real conversion…one not based on emotion but one of humbleness, gratefulness, and purpose.

Take a look at this video.  Does it sound like you?  Do you encounter people like this?  How do you handle it?

Happy Mother’s Day – From the Soccer Field

This is where I’m currently set up…

With my ever-trusty chair…

Yes, I realize it’s Mother’s Day, and no, the team doesn’t take breaks for such days.  They practiced the weekend of Easter, although Chicky had Prom so she was home.  The girls will be playing in the Final Four next weekend, so they had to practice.  With the team scattered all over the state, it’s important that they get together every couple of weekends each month to practice.

Now, you’d think that Chicky would have lovingly greeted me with a “Happy Mother’s Day, Mama.  I’m so thankful for everything you do for me, and I love you.”

But no, this is Chicky we’re talking about.  She keeps her feeling buried way down deep.

She did manage a, “Hurry up.  We’re running late.  I knew I should have eaten breakfast in the hotel.”

Oh yeah.  That’s what I’m talking about.  Nothing like a few endearing comments from the child you went through four weeks of bedrest, 39 additional pounds on your 5’3″ frame, and nine hours of labor to give birth to.

Not to mention hours upon hours of reading and being read to, staying up all night to hold wash clothes on a sweat-laden neck while said child was bent over a porcelain bowl puking her guts out from some stomach bug, school projects, soccer practices and games…and now college visits.

Love you too, Honey.

As Chicky got out of the car at the fields, she came back and handed me my present…

It’s supposed to be a good movie, from all I’ve heard.   A sweet gesture, even if it wasn’t accompanied with a hug.  It was her way of telling me she loves me.  I get it.

Wherever you are, whether it be on a soccer field, a cozy home, or even work, I wish you a Happy Mother’s Day.  Kids usually do not fully appreciate the gift that God gave them, but from one mom to another, I appreciate you.  So will our children…when they become parents themselves.

My First Prayer Shawl

Did you notice the word “first” in the title of this post?

Yes, that’s because, as you know, I’ve recently become involved with my church’s new prayer shawl ministry.

Today I did the Happy Dance because I finished the first one!!!  And, it’s what I consider my “first” crochet project (I don’t count the little animals I’ve made).  This pattern had double crochet and half double crochet stitches.

Oh yeah, baby.  Bring it on!

Ok…so on to the pictures, and then I’ll give stats…

Here’s the pattern booklet that I bought at Joann’s:

I had fallen in love with this project (the picture from the book):

And here’s my finished project…

I had a hard time getting the hang of the edging.  I just couldn’t quite figure out where to insert my needle on the row ends, so two of the sides look a bit wonky.  The third side was a piece of cake because it was my cast on edge.  Here’s a close-up of the stitches and edging (the part I’m proud of):

I started on 4/27 and finished today (5/7).

I used a little under four skeins of Bernat Satin (the colorway is Sable).

The yarn is soft and very warm. It was a little bit thready…which was not super easy for a novice crocheter like myself, but I didn’t find myself doing battle, if you know what I mean.

All in all, a pretty easy project except for the edging, which I attribute to my lack of practice and not the pattern.

I Didn’t Buy These, I Promise

Two bags of yarn…that’s what I saw when I walked into the empty room at church.  It was Wednesday night…time for Bible study with the ladies.  When I began meeting with this group, I discovered that one of the ladies was a knitter.  She’s been knitting a little while but is not overly confident in herself yet, preferring to stick with the easiest stitches.  We’ve formed a friendship, and I’ve been encouraging her to try new patterns.

Any good knitting friend will, naturally, enable another.  She buys the newest issues of magazines, and I run out to get them.  She buys a new book, and I do the same.  I discover a fabulous yarn store in New Orleans, and she visits and spends $150.

It’s a friendship made in heaven.

When I saw the bags of yarn, I figured they belonged to her.  We’re always showing off our latest cast-ons and talking about upcoming projects.

When she walked in, she nonchalantly picked up the bags and deposited them on the table in front of me.

They were for me.  For a shawl I’ve been ogling in this book, recently purchased with a 40% coupon at Hobby Lobby:

The pattern is for a Mexican Shawl:

As I pulled the yarn out of the bags, I counted them…12 skeins of Vanna’s Choice…in six different colors!

I am so touched that she would do this for me.  She has been personally affected by the financial woes that many of us have…a husband who only recently became employed again after being laid off…a house up for sale…a son newly home from Iraq…

To do something like this with pure excitement on her face…

A true blessing.

And a relief that I can honestly tell the Mr. that I didn’t buy more yarn.