I was once accused of being a real weirdo by my child. I took offense. It's not that I'm weird. It's that my circumstances are. Sometimes we just need someone outside of family to shed perspective and humor on an otherwise depressing situation. The only hope I have for my sanity is in knowing that my friend Sheri wades through these same uncanny waters as I do.

Dear Anna,
We have barf.
Nathan threw up at midnight last night. It went on for every 30 minutes until 6 this morning. I slept for 1 hour last night. And school starts tomorrow.
Signed,
It figures

Dear Sheri,
Haven't we always said that if we plan anything of significance, we will be plagued by an unfortunate event? This is no different, is it?
I would have brought you some coffee to help get through your day, but I'm beginning to think the stars have aligned against us, because it just so happens that I busted my French Press this morning.
Signed,
It's Futile

Dear Anna,
The saga continues. I found Ben playing in the yard with his head in the same bucket that Nathan vomited in last night. I scrubbed out his mouth with a soapy rag and then made him a turkey sandwich for lunch today.
I just now noticed on the package of turkey that it's 2 weeks past the "use by" date. CRAP. Nothing has happened for several hours, but past experience has taught me that all vomit happens around midnight. I won't consider this over until tomorrow.
Don't worry about the coffee. Whiskey is stronger, and it doesn't require a French Press.
Signed,
Job the Afflicted

Dear Sheri,
What did you do to turn God's wrath against you?
Signed,
Eliphaz

Dear Anna,
Nothing. But life is turning around. The boys are both doing fine, and Brett's boss gave him the day off tomorrow. We are going on a date while they're at school. I can hardly wait!
And in case you're wondering what we'll do on our date, we're going to Costco to get new tires put on the van. YEEEEHAW! Maybe a nice lunch as well, preferably not at the Costco snack bar.
Signed,
Friend of God

Dear Sheri,
So glad things are turning around for you. On a separate note, the boys and I ate Sonic hamburgers for lunch today. That meal will be revisiting me all day long, I just know it.
Signed,
Bloated

Dear Anna,
You know how I told you that Brett got the day off today? Well guess what he's doing? He's in bed sick with the stomach crap. I can't believe this. Nice, long holiday weekend we'll have. I really, really hate life right now. We had planned to go to a baseball game tonight and then go somewhere fun to spend the night on Saturday. What the heck am I supposed to do to entertain the boys all freakin' weekend by myself????? AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH.
Signed,
Just Shoot Me

Dear Sheri,
Please refer to my original comment about significant plans and unfortunate events. You just so happen to be the recipient of a violent stomach virus that knows you have plans. I feel for you. I really do. Would you like to know why?
One hour ago, my parents took all three of my children for the weekend so Adam and I could spend a much needed weekend alone, and you'll never believe...my stomach just gurgled.
Signed,
It Figures

Can I just take a moment to tell you about something I think is very worthwhile?

A few years ago I stumbled upon this blog by Shaun Groves. Does that name sound familiar?

If not, don't fret. Until two years ago, I didn't know who he was either.

Here's the thing about Shaun. I enjoy reading his blog. I laugh at his wit, and his honesty is refreshing. But more than that, I love that his message boils down to his faith in Christ, through the funny, the unplanned, and especially the hard places of life.

He's more than a blogger though. He's also a singer/songwriter and a spokesperson for Compassion International, where he travels to impoverished countries in order to give a voice to children living within the grips of poverty.

It was during a trip to Ethiopia with Compassion International (see video below), that served as inspiration for Shaun's newest album Third World Symphony.

Shaun Groves - Third World Symphony (Ethiopia Story) from Shaun Groves on Vimeo.

This album is the antithesis to today's cookie-cutter music industry. It brings us to those hard places, causes us to take a look at our own souls, and for that reason, sheds new light on us as followers of Christ. I can't speak of it highly enough.



You can listen to the album here: Third World Symphony.

And if you like it, go on over here and buy it.

I cleaned the bathroom earlier today. Things just got weird from that point on.

A few minutes after walking out of that bathroom, a child walked in and had a case of explosive diarrhea. I cleaned the bathroom again.

As if that wasn’t enough, I decided to tempt fate and vacuum the carpet. I was nearly done when the vacuum sucked up a metal object started smoking. As I bent down to examine the damage, another child ran through the house, his hands full of confetti.

“What are you doing?” I hollered.

“An art project,” he said.

“You just made the carpet a part of your art project. Keep it at the table!”

“Mom, can I have your sticker?”

“What sticker?”

“The one on your back. I need it for my art project.”

“There’s a sticker on my back?”

“Yes. I put it there this morning before swim lessons.”

I pulled the 2 inch foam letter E off my back and asked, “You mean to tell me that I’ve been walking around all day with this on my shirt?!?”

“Sorry, Mom. I was just playing.”

“I don’t appreciate being made to look like a fool” I said.

I huffed and puffed then quickly turned to continue examining the vacuum when three pieces of confetti fell out of my hair and landed on my foot.

I’m beginning to feel like a cheap party favor.

I'm pretty sure I've lost my mind.

How do I know this?

The other day I found three cartons of unopened cottage cheese in my fridge. The following day I bought one more.

I've spent the last two months trying to bring order to my life, but gave up today after realizing that I can't even organize my purse.

I told Adam this the other day when he came home and found me mumbling to myself.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I can't seem to get a grip on reality."

"It's completely understandable. Look at all the kids we have. You can't expect to care for all of them and come away unscathed."

"But that's the problem," I said as I picked spit-wads off the laundry room door. "I don't think they all belong to us."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well," I motioned toward the odd looking boy in the living room, "I grew suspicious today when I saw him licking our plunger. It took some digging, but sure enough, I found three birth certificates."

"And your point is?"

"My point is that we have three more kids than we have birth certificates!"

"How did this happen?"

"I don't know" I said, as I cleaned up a smashed yogurt tube, three chewed blueberries, an open faced peanut butter and jelly sandwich and nine foam darts from underneath the kitchen table. "But what concerns me most is that I can't tell you with absolute certainty which three are ours."

As I crawled out from underneath the table, a boy, whose underwear I have been washing since June 10th, came running down the stairs, jumped the last seven and landed with such force that three pictures fell off the wall.

"Son," Adam said, "if you jump off those stairs one more time, you will be grounded!"

Not wanting to embarrass him, I leaned in and whispered quietly in his ear, "Uh, Adam...I could be wrong, but I don't think he's one of ours."

He looked at me and said, "I think I've lost my mind."

See what I mean?

A funny thing happens when my child wants to earn money: He’ll do almost anything to get it.

After mowing our lawn, cleaning the bathroom and taking out the garbage, Isaiah realized he was still short on the money needed to buy his newest obsession: Beyblades.

“I still need a few more dollars, Mom. What else can I do?”

I racked my brain for a minute as I tried to figure out what other tedious chores I could get him to agree to, when it occurred to me that there was a fresh load of whites still in the dryer waiting to be folded.

It took him four armloads but he finally got the clothes to the couch, where he preceded to comment on his inability to fold such a huge amount of clothes. Suddenly he stopped short…

“Mom, do I have to fold your underwear?”

“I have to fold yours, don’t I?”

“Yeah but…ugh, this is worse than I thought.”

30 minutes later, as he was still bending over the couch folding the whites, Isaiah said, “I think you should owe me more money for folding all these clothes. It’s a lot, and my back is starting to hurt.”

“You’re almost done, just work through the pain.”

He finished folding the whites, and was getting ready to collect his money when he noticed 5 socks still sitting on the couch. As he sorted through them, looking under the couch and throw pillows for their matches, I could see the confusion set in.

“Where?...How?...This doesn’t make any sense. I can’t find the matches to these socks anywhere!”

I cackled. Isaiah didn’t appreciate it of course, but there was something so freeing about finally being understood by my children, that I couldn’t help myself.

A few days later Isaiah came running in the kitchen with two crumpled up socks in his hands. “You’ll never believe where I found these two socks!

I knew this was going to be good. “Where?”

“I found one on top of the ceiling fan, and another in the downspout on the side of the house. Isn’t that strange?”

I put my arm around his shoulder and leaned close.

“No son, finding the matches to those socks in a single load of laundry would be strange. That you found them in the downspout and on the ceiling fan makes perfect sense to me.”

There comes a time in life when change is inevitable; When we must swallow our pride, let go of what we hoped for in life, and admit defeat.

We were defeated today. Our pride was broken. The image we have tried so hard to keep up has been shattered, and yet, it came as no surprise. Both Adam and I knew this day would come, and I must say that in the past few weeks, we have even looked forward to it.

I would be lying if I said we didn't struggle with the reality of what our decision will mean. Please know that we didn't come to this conclusion lightly, but that this has been eight years in the making. We have weighed the pros and cons, but in the end, our mental health is of utmost importance. We have traveled down many roads searching for enjoyment and adventure, only to be met with frustration and weariness. So today, we find ourselves at a crossroads, and we thought you should know...

We bought a minivan.

There, I said it.

Upon admission of those words, I just told you that I am no longer hip, that I wipe butts and noses for a living, my office is my laundry room, my clothes are outdated, I don't own a matching pair of socks, and Neil Diamond's Greatest Hits is in my CD player.

But guess what? I don't care.

We now own a vehicle that's larger than a bathtub. I have a mirror that allows me to see any person, at any given moment, sitting in the back of my car. I have a third row seat that gives my boys room to stretch out, which cuts down on the backseat fighting by at least 90%.

Of all the things my new minivan has given me, I must say that the swagger has been the best!




Don't be jealous!

"All the world's a stage and most of us are desperately unrehearsed."
Sean O'Casey