Random thoughts about showering and birthdays...

Okay, so here I am at the folks' waiting to get into the shower. This brings back memories of living in a one-bathroom house with my younger sister and tub-time-loving father, praying that I would not wet my pants because bathroom time was hard to come by. That was before my brother was born...

Today, is my brother's 18th birthday. I can remember a time where he would flat out refuse to shower. Now, it's difficult to get him out of the shower in time to catch a few drops of hot H20 for myself. Ever try rinsing Pantene out of your hair with cold water? Doesn't work.

Okay, back to the issue of the birthday. Looks like we are doing a night on the town at Famous Dave's and then back to the homestead for a little surprise party thrown together by mi madre y yo (that's Espanol for: my mother and I). Good thing lil' bro doesn't read my blog or the surprise would not be! :-)

It's funny how I had this thought that he would be done showering by the time I reached then end of this post. He's not.

Truth is Stranger than Fiction...

Sooo…. Here I sit, on a Sunday evening, watching The Apprentice. I’ve had a long day at work and missed Easter Sunday services at my church. My mood is reflective (and sleepy) and inquisitive. I am wondering how to approach a particular situation. I am wondering if an approach is even necessary.

Two days ago, I had a very interesting conversation in my kitchen. This conversation shed some light, but also made scenarios and situations and little darker.

My roommate has a five-year-old daughter. I have been very aware of this fact for the last three years. This little girl lives with us and makes those in her presence aware of her existence at every opportunity. She is a bubbly, bright, sometimes mischievous little spark plug. I love her dearly.

Each April, my roommate’s now thirteen-year-old nephew comes to stay with us for a couple of weeks. He currently resides in the Czech Republic (that’s a bit of a drive)!  He is also quite bright and somewhat old for his age.

Friday morning, I noticed my roommate’s daughter referring to her cousin as “my brother”. I naively thought she was joking and corrected her. The “nephew” then corrected me by stating that my roommate is his mother, not his aunt. Hmmm…. My roommate has only mentioned that she has been married once before and that she only has one child. Come to find out, my roommate was, at one point, married to her “nephew’s” father, gave birth to her “nephew” and then divorced her “nephew’s” father. She later remarried her daughter’s father, became pregnant, and divorced for a second time.

The nephew proceeded to share with me that he lives “all over the world”. When asking him exactly what that meant, he clarified by saying that his father moves a lot for work purposes. Thinking that his father probably has a career in international trade or finance, I asked what his father does for a living. His response, “My father is a tailor.” Hmmm... I do not know any tailors who are required to move around the world in order to support themselves…

This is all very unusual to me as my roommate has always referred to her son as her “nephew”. She has never ever mentioned that she has been married twice. She only refers to her second marriage. I find even more unusual that, when asked how many children she has, she always responds, “One. I have a daughter.” The whole tailor bit is also quite interesting to me.

I am wondering whether the topic is worth mentioning or if I should let sleeping dogs lie… My overall feeling is that I am somewhat indifferent to the situation. This has always been the case. My knowing versus my not knowing the full story really has little bearing on the present circumstances. The dilemma is whether or not to believe other facts she’s relayed to me. Will she continue to be untruthful with situations that could later on harm or affect one or both of us? While I care deeply for her soul and wish the truth to be known, is it really my job to press the issue??? Should I wait on the Lord to bring the truth to light?

Many things to ponder while watching “The Donald”…

Donut-Dunkin' Dynamic Duo

Okay, so I have been watching two little boys since yesterday. Their parents are out of town for a last "hoorah" until the birth of their fourth child sometime in May. When I agreed to do this, I had no idea what I was getting myself into (as is usually the case when I agree to do something)! We have been having a blast, but these are two very busy little boys! Experience as a nanny and well seasoned babysitter has taught me that constant entertainment is the the key to successful childcare.

Yesterday, our adventure began roughly five minutes after booting Mom and Dad out the door! We headed to the mall in hopes of seeking out the kiddie play area. We huffed and we puffed and we tore through the mall like three wild banchees. Upon arrival at the play station, we were disappointed to see a signed posted which read "play area closed". Nuts! We then tore back through the mall (I think we were ponies this time) to head to a different mall. Long story short, we managed to achieve the same results, "play area closed". Well, this was discouraging! Okay, the third time's the charm, right? We rip-roared across town to mall #3... You do not even want to go there... "Play area closed". The boys and I are convinced that there is a conspiracy in the state of Michigan to detain us from enjoying any mall kiddie play area. How rude! Praise the Lord for MacDonald's! God's gift to preschoolers! I can honestly say that I have never spent more than one hour inside a MacDonald's in my entire life......until yesterday. Let the good times roll. We jumped! We ran! We chased! We climbed! We slid! We giggled! And we wet our pants. Well, not ALL of us. Just one of us. Thankfully, the one who was wearing the diaper....he will remain nameless so as not to cause embarassment.

After an exhausting visit to Micky D's, we headed to the gym at church, per the request of Braeden. He wanted to play in the "dim" (a.k.a. "gym"). It is amazing what one can do with ping pong balls... We golfed! Who knew? We then played a rousing game of hide-'n'-seek (some of us could not keep quiet while hiding due to giggling fits), then we hurled basketballs at the net in hopes of make a basket. This simply was not to be. Oh well. Points for effort! :-)

We then reached the point in our day where we are so tired that we are sprawled out on the gym floor... We head home for naptime. Only one of us is of napping age. Therefore, myself and Braeden played a few rounds of Candyland. I found that we are both grossly competitive. I did not win. Let's not go there... Braeden, evidently, has learned (from someone....probably a parent....probably the male one...his mother is way too nice to do anything like that) that it is hilarous to gloat when you win! That was painful!

Two hours later, it's back in the mini-van for a night on the town. Okay, not exactly. We headed to "Soccer Tots" over at Total Soccer. That was actually a lot of fun! Ethen and I got a kick out of watching Braeden and his peers play "Foxes and Farmers" and notorious other soccer games.

We then headed to the nearest "Redbox" to rent "Bolt" per the movie buff's (Braeden) request. It was not long before both boys were sacked out and down for the count.

Eleven hours later, we are up and at 'em. Braeden has been looking forward to breakfast since yesterday. CHOCOLATE DONUTS!!!!!! Who wouldn't look forward to that! Ethen goes for the raisins.... I don't get it. Braeden is able to sway Ethen away from the dark side and encourages him to dunk his donuts into his water. Yum. Enticing. Still don't get it...

I'm sure we can squeeze in a few more adventure before this afternoon's return of the parental units!

Over and out!

"Our experiences do not DEFINE. They REFINE." -- V.B.G.

Okay, it's been a while. Not much more I can say about that! I've decided that having a blog requires one to actually sit down and, well, BLOG!!!!

It has been over a year since my last post. In that time, I have destroyed two vehicles, completed six weeks of physical therapy, drawn much close to my God (can I get an "Amen"?), experienced life-changing, spiritually rich friendships, purchased strange looking shoes, lost three loved ones (why do things always come in three's?), managed to weazle out of two speeding tickets (don't ask), considered dropping off a sleep number bed on the Raeses' front porch, watched someone named "Obama" assume the role of U.S. president (no comment), joined a small group that I love dearly, worked intermittently in a homeless shelter, tutored 4th graders, worked extensively in a church/public school program, taught 2nd graders, cleaned the bathroom (LOL!), and considered getting cable.

At the end of the day, I am ever so grateful that my identity is not "car-crashing-friendly-PT-shoe-purchasing-weazle who speeds-sleep numbers-Obama?-group member-friend to homeless-4th grade tutor-2nd grade teacher-bathroom cleaning-cable patron." :-) Can I get another "Amen"?

Over the past year, I've found myself learning more and more that my identity is Christ. He is everything. He is my lifeline, my every heartbeat, my hope, my joy, sometimes my sadness. "I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful." John 15:1-2. Lots of pruning has occured over the past year.

I am onstantly reminded that I was purchased at a very heavy price. I Cor. 6:19-20, "What? Don't you know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit which you have in you? You are NOT your own! You were bought with a price! Therefore, glorify God in your body and in your spirit which are God's!" Therein lies my identity. I am God's. Plain and simple. At the end of each pruning, I am God's. At the start of each new bud, I am God's. This is not deep. It simply is.

If you are wondering when I will begin to get "deep", today is not the day. I am simply GRATEFUL for the One who defined me many years ago....

Read Ephesians. It's a pretty good book.