tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-168192872024-03-05T07:06:11.250-06:00Me, I am my kids' teacherMusings about home educating, life and educating for life!memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.comBlogger218125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-37924084846321993772009-07-12T22:09:00.005-05:002009-07-12T23:36:17.150-05:00Stale donuts in HellSitting alone at McDonald's this afternoon, which was the rendezvous point for a Mom/Kid trade (and the only reason I would be alone or even at McDonalds!), I was enjoying my dollar iced tea and had whipped out my beloved handy purse Bible to read while passing the minutes.<br /><br />Next thing I know I'm chatting with a man about the weather. He was passing the time inside the air-conditioned restaurant to avoid walking home. He had a "couple" of DUIs he said, and couldn't drive. <br /><br />I commented that I saw the temp was 107 on the bank that I had just driven by. He mentioned how horrible this Oklahoma heat was and how different it is from the Arizona heat.<br /><br />We (Okies), all have this conversation ... so enough about that.<br /><br />He asked what I was reading. When I told him, he said, "WOW. I never really understood the Bible," and told a story about how he would get picked up for church and went because someone had promised donuts.<br /><br />They sat through the boring stuff to get the donuts. "They were stale, but we didn't care ... we were just kids."<br /><br />I told him the Bible is anything but boring, and that he should try reading it again. I also confessed that sometimes the Bible doesn't even make sense to me, but other times, I know the Lord speaks right to me through his Word. So I keep reading it. <br /><br />And, I told him, without Jesus, I would have no reason to hope or make it in this HEAT or this world!<br /><br />Are you married? he asked! (oh dear).<br /><br />Yes!<br /><br />You got a husband, that should give you hope.<br /><br />Yes. I love my husband and he loves me, but not as much as God loves me. We are here on this earth to be able to spend forever with God. So you should try to get to know him. He's waiting for you.<br /><br />I told him about a nearby church that I thought he could walk to. I told him that I knew for a fact that they didn't have stale donuts and had really good coffee and would be a great place for him to learn about Jesus. (By this time Keli and all of the kids arrived).<br /><br />The conversation turned back to the heat, and I took a deep breath and actually (actually) said ...<br /><br />"Hey. If you think it's hot out there, just think how hot hell is going to be. Isn't that a great reason to get to know the Lord?" (something like that). <br /><br />We laughed. By this time I could smell that this guy had not been drinking anything from the soda bar at McDs, but maybe something from another nearby bar ... and prayed silently for him. He did have a job and a home. But no Jesus. <br /><br />I've never done the hellfire and brimstone evangelism before, let alone to a drunk stranger at McDonalds! <br /><br />Why am I sharing this? Dunno. Just sometimes I feel like I don't come across unbelievers in my "isolated" world of kids and homeschool and church. What a pathetic excuse! Maybe this was God showing me that we have to take the opportunities where He presents them.memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-32580482161747833202009-06-03T22:54:00.005-05:002009-06-04T00:09:28.704-05:00Money is a Great Motivator!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvjJZxjPrY1rpHa38Cs_H2-wfbIo53MVNfVQ2W0E8fIdZp8TPgr62aQkw-IsdLWf72pZH6hmolXOpH_veo8Y8IF1MUUl_55JJ48n5Y5h1G238qOTRS6bi227XddlKdQN3uhWp9g/s1600-h/Photo+794.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvjJZxjPrY1rpHa38Cs_H2-wfbIo53MVNfVQ2W0E8fIdZp8TPgr62aQkw-IsdLWf72pZH6hmolXOpH_veo8Y8IF1MUUl_55JJ48n5Y5h1G238qOTRS6bi227XddlKdQN3uhWp9g/s200/Photo+794.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343328710001051586" /></a><br />I debated about whether to blog about this. Don't want to sound vain, or self-absorbed or boastful ... but it is what it is! Truly, I hope to convey a "if I can do it, you can do it" motivation when it comes to taking control of our health and our choices!<br /><br />Back in February, when the producers of the Biggest Loser TV show came to Oklahoma to screen future contestants, two of my friends came up with a great idea to do their own "biggest loser" contest. So, they sent out a blanket email inviting friends to join them for this contest. They invited us to show up, weigh in and plunk down $100 each.<br /><br />Then we were to head out the door and try to lose as much weight as we could over the next 13 weeks and meet back to weigh in. The winner would get 70 percent of the pot. Second place would get 20 percent, and the rest would go for a door prize to whomever showed up that day.<br /><br />A hundred bucks is a lot of money for me to throw around for our family. But I knew that I needed to unload some pounds. And even though I am not particularly competitive, I was in it to win it.<br /><br />The quick end to the story is ... I WON! By a hair (less than two pounds) ... and under a bit of controversy (reminding me why I loathe competition).<br /><br />I lost approximately 11 percent of body weight. I would share the numbers of pounds, but I don't want to. I'm not done yet. Goal. Not. Reached. <br /><br />Here's the picture of me on weigh in day.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9T7dMK-qwKBxScMvuzp60reDAJYSFyboho464TsetOJ2soALfsdbvTwlpqYeTjWdkmPDIaapcn8xZXrrtb6YcG_Xi1SH0lmwbpQzBL4TCmBgwLM49Ekl-AiizIvq6ceLURt8JIA/s1600-h/IMG_1630.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9T7dMK-qwKBxScMvuzp60reDAJYSFyboho464TsetOJ2soALfsdbvTwlpqYeTjWdkmPDIaapcn8xZXrrtb6YcG_Xi1SH0lmwbpQzBL4TCmBgwLM49Ekl-AiizIvq6ceLURt8JIA/s200/IMG_1630.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343319745080377378" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Nice, no?<br /><br />Immediately, I began counting calories. I had never really done this. I am very good at counting Sodium because of Stan's specialized diet (450 mg a meal), but c'mon ... now I really had to pay attention to calories, carbs and fat, like for real? Yes! <br /><br />About that time, I also found <a href="http://manymeadows.com/2009/02/18/the-abs-diet-for-womena-book-review/">this review</a> from one of my favorite blogs. And set out to incorporate as many of the superfoods as I could ... almonds, spinach, eggs, lentils, oatmeal.<br /><br />I cut out white food. I always heard you should. And really really loathed refined flour and sugar anyway. <br /><br />I heard Bob say on the Biggest Loser that pop, even diet pop, produces belly fat. So I gave up Diet Coke and Coke Zero.<br /><br />I did NOT join or a gym nor did I start running (hate running). I just can't disappear from my family for long periods of time, nor can we afford a gym membership. But I did buy Jillian Michael's 30-Day Shred video, and committed to WALK by myself in the neighborhood or with friends at parks while the kids played. Thank you friends!<br /><br />I plugged along. Did my Jillian video. Did other exercise videos that I got from the library including the Abs Diet workout, and Bollywood dance workouts (that I loved so much the family got me an entire set of videos for Mother's Day). Walked. And watched calories.<br /><br />Most mornings, I whipped up delicious spinach smoothies ... inspired by my friend Kevin. A handful of frozen spinach (or other green leafy stuff - including romaine or other salad greens), a frozen half-banana, handful of frozen berries, 8 oz of water and ice. Do NOT knock it til you try it. Seriously. Not bad at all. (Banana is the key.)<br /><br />Sometimes, I'd also eat one for lunch. I ate lots of raw almonds (lots). And Kashi bars. And oatmeal. I would make sensible dinners for the family and watch my portion control. And I would try not to pout when everyone else ate ice cream or desserts!<br /><br />Instead of sitting at the computer watching the kids play basketball outside, I played with them. And we played hopscotch. And I practiced the 50 and 100-yard dashes with the kids for their field day. And I would throw in extra squats or reps when doing springtime yard work - bagging leaves, planting flowers, hoeing weeds.<br /><br />And I did situps and push ups and chest flys with weights and leg lifts and whatever exercise I could think of while watching TV ... 24, Loser, American Idol. <br /><br />The clothes kept getting looser, and I found myself NOT dreading shorts season (I'll always dread swimsuit season).<br /><br />I'm writing all of this to say ... if I did it, anyone can do it! :-) I didn't need a gym membership, a trainer or super regimented diet ... or even a treadmill (tho I really want one).<br /><br />But what I did have were three unbelievably supportive accountability partners who encouraged me. When I might try to swipe a french fry from Grant, or just a little taste of a shake from Giles ... they would scream at me "a thousand dollars Mom. A THOUSAND DOLLARS!" And it worked. Stan was also very encouraging.<br /><br />The pay out was actually $910! Minus the hundred, the video and all of the almonds!<br /><br />Oh, the controversy. We were supposed to do the final weigh in wearing the same clothes. I dug out the sweater from the winter clothes bin, and I had already ditched the jeans in a garage sale. <br /><br />I had another pair of jeans selected. But morning of, my old pair of size SIX j crew jeans that I was saving "just in case I ever got thin enough again" beckoned. I was quite certain they wouldn't fit and didn't try them on one time during the contest. But that morning, they went on ... easily. Since they were heavier jeans than the weigh in jeans, I felt okay about it. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBK9Zo2kqIx7v74opKsXnQivm4ycM0YjImbxG9FzQg4lEyTNKVCDyEi8SExoBN2ZrWoGipmzunQraFs_lEtlPHw9AwTqSzIXfztvirZCxy9wxPfIv6Pkv1qXKnAjpEBPoVxR09Ww/s1600-h/Photo+797.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBK9Zo2kqIx7v74opKsXnQivm4ycM0YjImbxG9FzQg4lEyTNKVCDyEi8SExoBN2ZrWoGipmzunQraFs_lEtlPHw9AwTqSzIXfztvirZCxy9wxPfIv6Pkv1qXKnAjpEBPoVxR09Ww/s200/Photo+797.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343328715000270786" /></a><br />However, at weigh in, I FORGOT to put on the stupid sweater. It went unnoticed until after we got home (Lydia went with me to the weigh in). So, I went back and reweighed with the sweater, and still barely won. And that reminded me why I don't do well with competition. Yucky guilty feeling for second place! And feeling like people might have thought I tried to cheat. All of the contestants did great ... and I wish we all could have won. We did all win though ... we won our health!<br /><br />But still, there had to be a winner! And now, the cash is gone. We had sold and given away our junky living room furniture in the same garage sale that I sold those baggy weigh-in jeans, so we've been sitting in camp chairs since March. We went today and I plunked down nine Bens for some brand new living room furniture! CASH! We thought about getting that treadmill ... but like the lure of getting outside instead.<br /><br />That's the story. Money, turns out, is a great motivator! So, start your own contest, just remember to wear the sweater ... and eat your almonds!memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-46733572432356582902009-03-18T13:07:00.003-05:002009-03-18T13:22:40.375-05:00Walking the WalkWew. Almost forgot how to tap into this blog, it's been so long.<br /><br />No big reason to post now, except I felt like it. And maybe it's a prelude to chronicle a new journey our fam is about to embark on. Intriguing, no?<br /><br />So, I've always wanted to walk to the grocery store. Even more now that I have "green" reusable grocery bags, and when I need just a few things that I could easily carry.<br /><br />So grabbed bag, cash, shuffle, list and mace ... just kidding. I packed heat. No, not really. I went in the daytime. No worries.<br /><br />Lots of people do this. I'm trying to be health-conscious, carbon-imprint conscious and adventurous. There's lots of folks around here who have to walk to the store, or anywhere. I don't know if they pack heat, but sometimes they pack a lot of little kids in a stroller, push their own grocery cart, and some people carry drinks in brown paper bags. If they do it, I should try.<br /><br />Anyway. Loved it. As a bonus my shuffle's shuffle gave me ...<br />"All By Myself" (Eric Carmen's 1970s hit) to make me laugh<br />"We Love You Lord" (David Crowder) to make me praise, and<br />"All We Need" (Charlie Hall) to make me cry.<br />Then I was at the store ... and got a couple more Charlie songs for the walk home.<br /><br />I could have improvised everything I needed for tonight's menu of jicama slaw and fish tacos, except for the cilantro. How do you fake cilantro? So I walked to the store to buy it (and strawberries on impulse) but I want to grow it.<br /><br />So on my urban dweller TO DO list. Walk to the grocery store. Check.<br />Now, let's head to the country! And grow some stuff.memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-72555741134210909912008-10-10T09:08:00.003-05:002008-10-10T09:17:17.148-05:00Published!The Shelts went to the MUSIC BUILDS concert last weekend and volunteered. Since the music was TOO LOUD for Stan's ear, he hung out with the staff while we rocked out inside ... and he mentioned that I write a blog and volunteered me to write something for them. Like I minded! But the surprise was, they wanted my drivel! :-)<br /><br />NOW ... join ONE and share some food.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.one.org/blog/2008/10/10/music-builds-tour-fun-for-the-whole-family/">Here tis.</a><br /><br />And here are pictures to go with ...<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxAm81nr_3CtZYFjRzjUAkjQVMuGKph0NNwGPaWGAQxYeHCmEUXJO0dAbUPcj6KxfR-mOEeCk86f2DyOJGoJfUiQwvPrXwiT9FS-KLI7UdbNwncXWore31kCe8ncqhYNiTc568Ng/s1600-h/IMG_1741.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxAm81nr_3CtZYFjRzjUAkjQVMuGKph0NNwGPaWGAQxYeHCmEUXJO0dAbUPcj6KxfR-mOEeCk86f2DyOJGoJfUiQwvPrXwiT9FS-KLI7UdbNwncXWore31kCe8ncqhYNiTc568Ng/s400/IMG_1741.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255528492879958258" /></a>Here's "Mr. I Got More Names than You." in action.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG8thfkyrys1tggTpMyHdR10U4uGuJsAHIZ8AQPzbLxYNSnpbcJkRJc3UdhqSh0EldqzQdh5o0zRkuUXOhZethANWu5EBNMxb8IOYdDmNM9osN8xnabgDvJZ1o-rnKZtp3OiCR8Q/s1600-h/IMG_1745.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG8thfkyrys1tggTpMyHdR10U4uGuJsAHIZ8AQPzbLxYNSnpbcJkRJc3UdhqSh0EldqzQdh5o0zRkuUXOhZethANWu5EBNMxb8IOYdDmNM9osN8xnabgDvJZ1o-rnKZtp3OiCR8Q/s400/IMG_1745.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255528492766788578" /></a>"Please sign my petition to stop world hunger."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNwd-kqchr6mgI9-tsw4vXDOCKzpMOzqnDerWrSPsfrNl6_W1Z95xzM9XxedLOfIpxpUgHX6WZoMXmAr1K0R5oiBG-0WRR_-Y0W3V4GGtKddeF0p_JbMSxo92FHkvb4nAiJq9eOQ/s1600-h/IMG_1750.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNwd-kqchr6mgI9-tsw4vXDOCKzpMOzqnDerWrSPsfrNl6_W1Z95xzM9XxedLOfIpxpUgHX6WZoMXmAr1K0R5oiBG-0WRR_-Y0W3V4GGtKddeF0p_JbMSxo92FHkvb4nAiJq9eOQ/s400/IMG_1750.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255528494808111634" /></a>JARS OF CLAY .... they're signing his HAT.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipaIv9_2I6Fkf5L0BfA-TBXNZj3DWdy_zDgOJ2uzqjJ251krjgCURP1N_e6f3G4ntO9_MRtBl5HGOsD3f7YSav_LmaSfj56d72eghv2XzyVaes1V6_kcqWshwGsuBRKlFzwG_pUA/s1600-h/IMG_1754.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipaIv9_2I6Fkf5L0BfA-TBXNZj3DWdy_zDgOJ2uzqjJ251krjgCURP1N_e6f3G4ntO9_MRtBl5HGOsD3f7YSav_LmaSfj56d72eghv2XzyVaes1V6_kcqWshwGsuBRKlFzwG_pUA/s400/IMG_1754.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255528506067896146" /></a>Familia ...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBQNlv7hb3VuGfoB9yXsyvltVrcdjVS9hLqrIwWyh4oOgu0kbmDLh7RhBa0CJKwxtoZ-gygjiNrKBG2dR69AwHsNouPaJUM7x0fJZcfVYhpdqQ1WxWffP9RPweCydTOEqK_zMdYw/s1600-h/IMG_1762.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBQNlv7hb3VuGfoB9yXsyvltVrcdjVS9hLqrIwWyh4oOgu0kbmDLh7RhBa0CJKwxtoZ-gygjiNrKBG2dR69AwHsNouPaJUM7x0fJZcfVYhpdqQ1WxWffP9RPweCydTOEqK_zMdYw/s400/IMG_1762.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255528510480322066" /></a>Fans of the FOOT.<br /><br /><br /></div>memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-89696115674863620122008-09-24T16:16:00.002-05:002008-09-24T16:24:26.995-05:00Mirror MirrorBlog plug: my friend <a href="http://fullofjoy3.blogspot.com/">Full of Joy</a> (can I say her real name? Can't remember.) has started a Bible study on her blog. Great --- now she has a much awesomer looking blog, and now better things to say on an important topic. <br /><br />But I'm not envious ... I'm glad to soak it in, and pass on the love to you.<br /><br />Here's what she said about it today on our homeschool email loop.<br /><br />"I have been teaching a class on Body Image that I am absolutely passionate about. I have been working to write and edit down the material in order to share on my blog. This is such an important topic for girls, and women. In learning this I felt overwhelmed with the desire to be able to pass this on to my daughter, but I was reminded that as free as I wanted my daughter from it, the Lord wanted me free from it even more. I would love for you to join the study."<br /><br />Intrigued? It's an issue that hits me head on, and now I have a daughter also who's also getting this body image pressure.<br /><br />Okay, I just checked and she signs some of her posts with "Tiff." So I can use her name.<br /><br />Go read Tiff's study.<br />Here's the main blog: but scroll down to where it begins with Monday's intro.<br /><a href="http://fullofjoy3.blogspot.com/">http://fullofjoy3.blogspot.com/</a>memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-37443785433983625792008-09-24T13:15:00.002-05:002008-09-24T13:20:31.468-05:00Life Lesson from TRGiles is doing a report on Theodore Roosevelt. And we've been researching the question: "how this president's spiritual life affected his term in office."<br /><br />Gee, that sure hasn't been mentioned in all of the picture books we got from the library. But we did find a copy of his speech given at the dedication of the house office building on April 15, 1906.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />"Materially we must strive to secure a broader economic opportunity for all men, so that each shall have a better chance to show the stuff of which he is made. Spiritually and ethically we must strive to bring about clean living and right thinking. We appreciate that the things of the body are important; but we appreciate also that the things of hte soul are immeasurably more important. The foundation-stone of national life is, and ever must be, the high individual character of the average citizen."</span><br /><br />That TR was such a muck-raking rough rider!memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-3518145158775559272008-09-21T21:07:00.003-05:002008-09-21T21:28:26.918-05:00Waiting for the Bus<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI0sDGLKnh23IHcCtLKLdI8SEaPmmVYkInHlfEasOWHqRNK1hPgszfksQbBpj0PqwQ5OWIaNCpxanGXSj435WL4_YAjNCwsDkwkSFgHpUWpL4Mp8oLaMcdK0IcGdAScJCGm90hSg/s1600-h/51CXY04X5TL._SL500_AA240_.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI0sDGLKnh23IHcCtLKLdI8SEaPmmVYkInHlfEasOWHqRNK1hPgszfksQbBpj0PqwQ5OWIaNCpxanGXSj435WL4_YAjNCwsDkwkSFgHpUWpL4Mp8oLaMcdK0IcGdAScJCGm90hSg/s200/51CXY04X5TL._SL500_AA240_.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248662796800301586" /></a><br />If I could do one of those coffee table books ... that's what I would call it. "Waiting for the Bus." <br /><br />It would be of pictures of the people I see around our neighborhood sitting on the benches and congregating around the stops ... waiting for the buses to take them to work, home, school, the store.<br /><br />Think there's some good stories? That and a lot of wisdom. <br /><br />There's a cute older couple that I see a lot. She always has an umbrella to protect against the sun or the rain (or snow). There's another lady who rides with about three kids. Another lady I know from Cross & Crown. She takes the bus to work and back every day. Yes, most people look poor. It's not so hip around here to ride the bus. But the riders are way hip. And they're savvy. They know this city, the schedules, the routes. And probably their driver's name. Fortunately, our city wants to expand our public transportation which might make it a more hip option in our greening consciousnesses ... and dwindling gasoline budgets. And I'm all for it.<br /><br />My dream is to commission a real photographer, like <a href="http://tapestryphotographs.com/index2.php">Joy's Tapestry Photographs</a>, to shoot it. So, do we first find a publisher? How do you do that? <br /><br />In the mean time, I found <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Finding-Grace-Face-Americas-Homeless/dp/1601091052/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1222048736&sr=8-1">this book</a> at the library, Finding Grace: The Face of America's Homeless. And I think I'll have to buy it for my coffee table. <br /><br />Amazing photography. And the best part about it is the text. Sparse and not on every picture. Certain portraits will have a paragraph ... a brief paragraph. But the story gets told. And many of those graphs bring a tear. <br /><br />Waiting for the Bus.memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-63391230231211007262008-09-17T21:05:00.002-05:002008-09-17T21:18:36.661-05:00Stuff Christians Like on HomeschoolingHaven't checked this blog lately but was humored to see this post on<a href="http://stufffchristianslike.blogspot.com/2008/09/400-homeschooling.html"> homeschooling!</a><br /><br />It's kind of like the skit on SNL the other night (the Tina Fey as Palin and Michael Phelps as host episode that, yes, we all stayed up to watch and then were grumpy at church the next morning). Humorous, but could have been WAY funnier.<br /><br />Thoughts? The comments on his homeschool post are interesting. Mostly, they make me sad. And I'm too chicken to say why. Kinda like I'm too chicken to get into a debate about Sarah Palin. I'm mostly for her, but my very very first thought about her before we knew anything more than her name was "I hope she's done raising her kids." Oh. Nope. And look at that new baby.<br /><br />Oh well. I kind of feel the same way about Obama too ... missing out on his kids' lives to do this. (On the other hand, what a ride for those kids. Talk about educating for life!)<br /><br />See, I'm not "sexist." (whatever).<br /><br />Some of us are called to do MORE and can do more.<br /><br />I can't.memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-75405661941297956502008-09-17T08:32:00.004-05:002008-09-17T09:02:46.732-05:00Not Getting My KicksThis one is hard to share ... but here I go anyway.<br /><br />After our first 4-H meeting on a rainy Saturday morning, the fam stopped at a local German bakery. The kids, preferring chain food, were resistant, but the parents pressed on. Great place. Great food. We used to come here all of the time BEFORE WE HAD YOU.<br /><br />There will be a little band in there and a lot of seniors. So cute! And there will be a lot of plates with food that includes kraut, schnitzel and wurst. But there will also be fantastic bagels and other treats.<br /><br />Come on.<br /><br />Most all of the kids were pouty (even while munching on yummy bagels and cinnamon rolls) until the band started. And we began watching people dance. So cute!<br /><br />Then, Get Your Kicks on Route 66, started. And mom started swaying ... but only with her pointer fingers, thinking my only audience was at our own table. And we were all singing along.<br /><br />The rest of it is a blur ... <br /><br />From out of nowhere, a gentleman approached our table and grabbed my hand TO DANCE.<br /><br />Oh. No. No. No. Please NO! I said.<br /><br />I don't dance. (I was raised in the Church of Christ).<br /><br />I have on crocs.<br /><br />I don't know you.<br /><br />He, uh, did not take no for an answer. And by this time had my very own husband and children helping him get me out on the dance floor. <br /><br />I'll spare the rest of the clumsy details. However, I am certain the band played a few extra choruses just to carry on the mirth.<br /><br />Stan was in stitches. The children were afraid for me. "We don't know him." <br /><br />"Is mom ever coming back."<br /><br />The song was over. I bowed to my partner. And we were outa there.<br /><br />But should Stan be worried that I caught the eye of an octogenarian?<br /><br />Not cute!memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-24505298720264198462008-09-15T21:07:00.008-05:002008-09-16T09:16:03.147-05:00Current Events<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7v-2mJXDkkhQjcRqriq3vw72p8HFEWyVWOH-zD3aNKwl8FFQB7qt84FeorPGxm43tLSZy3eQ8qqSxTz-_HBJ4HsgzG1Xc-Bg0O_gmTR_Xn-7z4kRwmgQLi6lJH-FmPV6MDu2gSQ/s1600-h/bush_plane_for_blog.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7v-2mJXDkkhQjcRqriq3vw72p8HFEWyVWOH-zD3aNKwl8FFQB7qt84FeorPGxm43tLSZy3eQ8qqSxTz-_HBJ4HsgzG1Xc-Bg0O_gmTR_Xn-7z4kRwmgQLi6lJH-FmPV6MDu2gSQ/s200/bush_plane_for_blog.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246459196007216786" /></a><br />When we heard President Bush was coming to Oklahoma City ... I thought it would be way cool to try to see him ... or at least see the motorcade. I wished I still had media contacts or knew rich Republicans to get us in. No such luck. But what great timing. We had immersed ourselves all week in election and presidential studies. We added to our presidential notebooks (started during the primary), chose presidents to write reports about and took online quizzes to see which president we were most alike. <br /><br />Pres. Bush was here last Friday for a meeting and a high dollar fund-raiser. We watched the arrival live on TV and giggled at the local TV reporters who kept saying "I didn't realize Air Force One was so .... BIG."<br /><br />He doesn't come to Oklahoma very much. Nor will the presidential candidates in this electorally thin red state. I was fine and comfy watching it on tv ...<br /><br />But I was talked into doing a little motorcade stalking. Doesn't take much for me. The kids and I loaded camera and snacks. Binoculars and another camera would have been helpful. And maybe some flags.<br /><br />We wandered around the area where the fundraiser was (in other words, wasted gas) ... the fundraiser was held at a little 13,000 square foot mansion built by a beer distributor (and we thought Oklahoma money was in oil and natural gas). We drove all around the area, hit roadblocks and turned around (very exciting) - Giles was sure he saw snipers hidden in the bell towers of the mansion. Counted troopers. Counted secret secret service. Counted motorcycles. Watched the helicopter overhead. (passed troopers blocking intersections ... repeatedly ... while holding my breath. I thought they'd either tell the minivan driving mom to beat it, or take us in on a stalking complaint). <br /><br />We then figured out the motorcade route back and got bold enough to figure out where to stop (without getting frisked, arrested or told to vacate).<br /><br />Finally, we saw a group of flag waving homeschooling kids that we knew in front of an animal kennel business (with very nice employees who were as excited as we were). Incidentally, I would have even joined some protesters, just for the educational value (and considered making a "We still love ya, double ya" sign) ... but we couldn't get close to them either.<br /><br />If you haven't seen this in real life or on TV .. check out our motorcade movie. The old reporter in me wonders ... just how much money does it take out of the local economy to host our own head of state for a mere four hours for the purpose of raising money for a political party ... or how much does the nation spend on it since he gets (and deserves?) this treatment for every move he makes ... but it's just more fun to be ga-ga.<br /><br />For another perspective on the visit that is hilarious, check out my friend <a href="http://blog.newsok.com/thebusiness/2008/09/13/my-life-in-the-presidential-media-pool-was-like-a-box-of-chocolates/?tm=1221339494">Jim Stafford's post.</a> He was the pool reporter and got a front row seat for the entire visit (and from whom I borrowed the big Air Force One pic). <br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/siWdJt_vuuA&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/siWdJt_vuuA&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />We were positive the president waved to us! <br />What do you think about that dog following the action?memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-83033374268577788072008-08-20T22:46:00.003-05:002008-08-21T22:57:12.160-05:00FinallyI can stand up and shout that I am for John McCain. <br /><br />I ultimately knew I would have to support him ... or else I'd have to hide my vote from my children and my husband and the rest of you.<br /><br />I was underwhelmed to say the least. I like the audacity of hope. I like "change." <br /><br />But I have Rick Warren to thank for sealing the McCain deal for me. I missed his faith forum at Saddleback, but tried to watch snippets of it on youtube (does anyone know where to watch the whole thing?).<br /><br />I won't get into what Obama said ... (except that he thinks if an American family makes less than $150,000 a year, they are POOR and he has no idea when life begins.) <br /><br />McCain was on fire. Full of passion and totally comfortable in this setting. Consice (gotta love it) and FIRM answers. Conviction. (The other guy was NOT ... did he even finish one sentence without qualifying something?)<br /><br />He had me at homeschooling. <br /><br />A presidential candidate mentioned homeschooling not once, but thrice. I wish this wasn't a huge deal, but it is.<br /><br />He said it in the context of school choice and said that Americans need to do what works for their families ... charters, private or HOMESCHOOL.<br /><br />I was also really impacted by McCain's answer to Warren's question to name his biggest personal moral failure. <br /><br />Obama, by the way, played victim a bit on this one. Blamed being raised without a father for his choices to do drugs and drink and live egocentrically (like, who hasn't done that?). That's it? <br /><br />Anyway, McCain, without hesitation said, "the failure of my first marriage."<br /><br />Woah. There is was. Bold and sad.<br /><br />I also liked his repeated assertions that faith based organizations, and just about anyone else, does service better than the government (i.e. Katrina, homeschooling, health care coverage, serving the poor and taking care of the children)<br /><br />That's it. Just had to share.memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-55556836966418119562008-08-18T08:30:00.008-05:002008-08-18T10:14:39.957-05:00Happy Birthday Lovie!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-X7zS5I9mjOVmS7Nc4q6sZnGSvM-67MAmsMelsJcd8-jnHUZSzuxkuMrwwAiOjrrtYElRQAToNEjt6k2wlAH0qjvRNdATX0fQdPqbYyfhpaQvT979Ejb6EEqToEAwHoSnfYogQ/s1600-h/IMG_0511.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-X7zS5I9mjOVmS7Nc4q6sZnGSvM-67MAmsMelsJcd8-jnHUZSzuxkuMrwwAiOjrrtYElRQAToNEjt6k2wlAH0qjvRNdATX0fQdPqbYyfhpaQvT979Ejb6EEqToEAwHoSnfYogQ/s400/IMG_0511.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235850247262903090" /></a><br /><br />Oh, she is NINE!<br />NINE.<br /><br />How could it be? She fills our days with laughter, song, a bit of drama ... and JOY.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSzH31jkzpJ_8VDoonDqdtAmRdKh94OLPQ-ipRHKvoixyWU1VMhrfcb1LUN9xNCo6wSB3tgLXK-mIkvaaFBEbyX_iN9CqcmcvszUvmnWmC1HVtzppoCNHSd3ckw83r1EIVHXioJg/s1600-h/IMG_0497.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSzH31jkzpJ_8VDoonDqdtAmRdKh94OLPQ-ipRHKvoixyWU1VMhrfcb1LUN9xNCo6wSB3tgLXK-mIkvaaFBEbyX_iN9CqcmcvszUvmnWmC1HVtzppoCNHSd3ckw83r1EIVHXioJg/s200/IMG_0497.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235854755379040690" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmN3wMV0PgYjEZuRkGq0fIxxQszZ8xDL60c3vJMEhEKN_KKZhSlKJK0btms_MeE5Qu0YHBewPWkeg2acr1xFUbsSCPM1y8fxVg3czX_zEUuEPeJVgxJgiJM-5qTnUYbYi_NnfC7w/s1600-h/IMG_0548.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmN3wMV0PgYjEZuRkGq0fIxxQszZ8xDL60c3vJMEhEKN_KKZhSlKJK0btms_MeE5Qu0YHBewPWkeg2acr1xFUbsSCPM1y8fxVg3czX_zEUuEPeJVgxJgiJM-5qTnUYbYi_NnfC7w/s200/IMG_0548.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235854759395026050" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKT5emKQBY_L-e-cqcupdFZhOYDAC8SFSbGakccVtwDjqnGTIZ-sQ-m3mfjeWENAFompr7t0DiOyfuCDMV7QS5mkQyugjB9IwASq9ZmGqSR0GLnq85UGRev1G8fq65qOzXpxwMJA/s1600-h/IMG_0558.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKT5emKQBY_L-e-cqcupdFZhOYDAC8SFSbGakccVtwDjqnGTIZ-sQ-m3mfjeWENAFompr7t0DiOyfuCDMV7QS5mkQyugjB9IwASq9ZmGqSR0GLnq85UGRev1G8fq65qOzXpxwMJA/s200/IMG_0558.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235854761526255858" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMY8JhUdFLXicNZ0Dstaf_Ra2H8AqBiWc7J2ArOfK7qmcRaPdXplXGG9OygaZc0XqZRiLddCh-LV8sU9vg-BUYoozPRHW2XMKva3CrmdHixj4UHeMzZQJQCzVsVWjzp3oikKflFQ/s1600-h/IMG_0560.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMY8JhUdFLXicNZ0Dstaf_Ra2H8AqBiWc7J2ArOfK7qmcRaPdXplXGG9OygaZc0XqZRiLddCh-LV8sU9vg-BUYoozPRHW2XMKva3CrmdHixj4UHeMzZQJQCzVsVWjzp3oikKflFQ/s200/IMG_0560.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235854766818122098" /></a><br /><br />She was my date on Saturday for a Quinceañera for a beautiful young friend. We were so honored to be invited to this fantastic tradition. While I took pictures at the Myriad Gardens, Lydia patiently waited by going into "her world." She never whined. Never begged to leave. Never asked to be in the pictures since she also had on a gorgeous dress! Never even complained about her feet in those shoes. And we were there a LONG time. I would <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQx6pQjy3t3PVodsDxVSVCaKUYmUUsi1tne2yqFzwe2h-AbcW0NqTDSAg_diAE8HVQLHX5VBieBW0jslG2GqS6sh1V15XMtLQCMYKFwHwiukhaVymyLISkqWsrIqj3FqSLSqJagA/s1600-h/IMG_0572.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQx6pQjy3t3PVodsDxVSVCaKUYmUUsi1tne2yqFzwe2h-AbcW0NqTDSAg_diAE8HVQLHX5VBieBW0jslG2GqS6sh1V15XMtLQCMYKFwHwiukhaVymyLISkqWsrIqj3FqSLSqJagA/s200/IMG_0572.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235864268092367746" /></a>snap pictures of her, instead of the party, trying to catch "her." Skipping and twirling. Talking to the trees. Smelling the flowers. Following a butterfly. Dreaming. <br /><br />She was so content. I think I scored capturing these pictures of her last days of eight.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPAqnyKoZB-Qfrh28_j9rQDJp7jz4klUryGFA3Q8xrQBdzVuDdDLDaCqAImSZcDh76-Q8vxQGybG6TdhFOcr0Afg5WjDUPr-KHTWCuPWI7RY3YNKSuptRqpEvZnihK6RprEGVKXQ/s1600-h/IMG_0677.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPAqnyKoZB-Qfrh28_j9rQDJp7jz4klUryGFA3Q8xrQBdzVuDdDLDaCqAImSZcDh76-Q8vxQGybG6TdhFOcr0Afg5WjDUPr-KHTWCuPWI7RY3YNKSuptRqpEvZnihK6RprEGVKXQ/s200/IMG_0677.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235872424166664866" /></a>And then later ... she partied it up like it was 1999 (the year of her birth)! Mexican dancing. Mexican games. Mexican FOOD. (and total language immersion).<br /><br />One of the activities at a Quinceañera is for the birthday girl, at the ripe old age of 15, to toss a beautiful doll into a waiting crowd of little ones (like a bride tosses a bouquet). She is tossing out her childhood, as she heads toward being an adult.<br /><br />Wew. We don't have to worry about that yet. Bring on the dolls. Hallelujah for a few more years (hopefully) of blissful childhood.<br /><br />Today a party for Lydia. Swimming, in the rain. She won't care. But how will we keep the pinata dry?memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-83218775328428788082008-08-14T09:45:00.004-05:002008-08-14T10:01:47.719-05:00Didn't see it on NBCWe've been Olympic Couch Potatoes this week. Watching and marvelling at Michael Phelps, and talking about that cute Nastia, Jonathon Horton and Shaun Johnson like they were our bffs.<br /><br />I do want to learn how to do the Phelps dolphin kick. Think he'll give lessons?<br /><br />I haven't taken off my <a href="http://kidsteacher.blogspot.com/2008/07/wearing.html">Praying for China</a> band since I got it. I bought 10, and passed them out. My kids wear there's intermittently (grant lost his ... but his wrist is pretty tiny).<br /><br />Today, I received an email from Voice of the Martyrs saying that the man who inspired the whole Prayer for China idea has been arrested.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfOvdzIkO-YIz4opbmNxusBpGNxQeFy3tySMw2uIQJLISX1t4hkyHU0hXNoYWsyUBSBc_MvqzsZAvU0jVAZl_rmQT2C5zZfZGbpPFE960OYR60wmazm6uNBsrHvzcn9x-N7Uph2A/s1600-h/vomso_20080813_pastorBike.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfOvdzIkO-YIz4opbmNxusBpGNxQeFy3tySMw2uIQJLISX1t4hkyHU0hXNoYWsyUBSBc_MvqzsZAvU0jVAZl_rmQT2C5zZfZGbpPFE960OYR60wmazm6uNBsrHvzcn9x-N7Uph2A/s320/vomso_20080813_pastorBike.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234387831894854914" /></a><br />Here's some stuff from the email:<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"Pastor Zhang “Bike” Mingxuan, known for traveling across China on a bicycle to evangelize, was arrested by Chinese police just two days before the Olympics began. Pastor Bike was the inspiration for the recent partnership between The Voice of the Martyrs and China Aid Association to create the Olympic Prayer Band.<br /><br />Pastor Asks for Prayer Band<br />Earlier this year, Pastor Bike pleaded with VOM staff to ask Christians to pray for persecuted Christians in China during the Olympics. The pastor voluntarily preaches the gospel openly in China despite being persecuted. He has asked for his identity to be revealed to bring continued attention to the persecution of Christians in Communist China.<br /><br />Thanks to Pastor Bike’s inspiration and the commitment of concerned Christians across the United States, more than 800,000 prayer bands have been circulated. On Aug. 6, Pastor Bike was arrested while trying to deliver medicine to his ailing wife. His wife and another pastor were also arrested. We have also learned this week that Chinese officials are opening a full investigation of the Olympic Prayer Bands that were distributed to house church members within China. Despite this increased pressure from Chinese authorities, Chinese Christians continue to ask for prayer and to make their plight known.<br /><br />Order your Prayer Bands today!<br />As the Olympics goes on, the harassment of Chinese evangelists continues to increase. Please help remind others to pray for persecuted Christians like Pastor Bike by ordering your prayer bands today!<br /><br />More about Pastor Bike<br />Pastor Bike, president of the Chinese House Church Alliance, rode his bike more than 10,000 miles, visiting 24 Chinese provinces to introduce nonbelievers to Jesus Christ. Armed with a Bible and his business card, which declared “Believe in Jesus, Earn Eternal Life,” Pastor Bike brought the gospel to thousands of people. He and other Chinese evangelists have been repeatedly harassed by Chinese officials during this Olympic year. Please pray for the release of Pastor Bike and his wife.<br /></span><br /><br />Of course, they are still hawking the bands. Still want us to BUY them. So the cynic in me rises up. Is this just a way to make money? And the doubter also rises up to wonder ... "is this what our prayers are doing? ... getting this dude arrested?"<br /><br />Then, I feel shame. Who cares? They need money. They need our prayers.<br /><br />God will be glorified. Even while Pastor Bike and his wife are in jail. Let's pray for him. And pray for Christians in China to be protected AFTER the world looks away.memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-84830672086067993912008-08-11T11:58:00.004-05:002008-08-11T16:38:28.921-05:00What happens at Deer Run ...<div>Well, not really. Deer Run stays here in our hearts. Giles just returned from his second year at Camp Deer Run, a one week "overnight" church camp in E. Texas ... five hours away. </div><div><br /></div><div>Last year we left him and came home. Besides being that far away from my "baby," it's a brutal trip - there and back Sunday and there and back on Friday. </div><div><br /></div><div>This year, his brilliant mother, and two brilliant mom peeps had the idea we'd stay down there all week in a cabin and let our younger ones go to the day camp. Down Sunday. Back Friday. The only caveat was having to drive the church van. But that was no big ... even with a tire blow out! (What was that boom and why do we hear air blowing? Let's just say three women and 17 kids CAN git r done, thanks to the wonderful folks in Antlers, OK.)</div><div><br /></div><div>To say that Giles LOVES this camp would be a huge understatement. He dreams it. Relives it. And talks about it every single day. He could not wait.</div><div><br /></div><div>When we got there, I parked while he got his cabin assignment. Once he found out he was NOT in a cabin with the other guys from our group, he gave a big shout out and raced off to his cabin where he knew no one. </div><div><br /></div><div>The moms ran the circuit of settling all of our kids in, making bunks, greeting counselors, praying and hugging. (btw - it was about 100 degrees.)</div><div><br /></div><div>When I got to Giles' cabin, I offered to make his bunk and settle him in. NO. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was shewed away. </div><div><br /></div><div>I barely got a hug and a "see ya"out of him. </div><div><br /></div><div>This could have been hard on a mom's heart. Uh, it was a little hard on this mom's heart. </div><div><br /></div><div>But as I was about to let myself have a pity party, I had an overwhelming sense of peace.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Your son is independent. He is secure. He has courage. He LOVES his parents. He loves God. Give him this week. He is going to be a MAN."</div><div><br /></div><div>On pick up Friday, in heavy rain ... all (except one) of our kids were waiting to go home. Hugs for us, their transport to their waiting parents. Ready.</div><div><br /></div><div>We were nearly loaded ... and entirely soaked in the rain. Giles was MIA.</div><div><br /></div><div>I found him in the mess hall. Sitting in a corner with a few new BFFs (Texans, even). They were tattooing each other with their phone numbers on skin and tshirts.</div><div><br /></div><div>He was fighting tears after I told him it was time.</div><div><br /></div><div>On the bus, driving away, Giles was so quiet and let the tears fall. I heard one kid say he couldn't wait to get home and feed his video game addiction. Another one couldn't wait to get his cell phone back, and his bed.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had a flashback to 1987 when Stan and I were on a plane leaving Paris and headed back home after a fantastic semester traveling in Europe with a group from college (yes, we got credit!) All of our compatriots were jubilant. Home. America. McDonalds. Baseball. </div><div><br /></div><div>Stan and I cried. We knew it was over. </div><div><br />Precious boy. Live it. Soak it in. And we'll figure out how to get you there for two weeks next year!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLXzV05w_Jo382Fx5bBPAuI4iWQbFTgg1Q39B-gYG7f3N3Co9XgMtfVWr6Wp3cE_vs-MPUA9SNl0ewY39dbYGTb7bGOAEdOlGmpV7MBdJz0DnEFGQyTusFL1TBute9SORASJ9z5Q/s1600-h/IMG_0138.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLXzV05w_Jo382Fx5bBPAuI4iWQbFTgg1Q39B-gYG7f3N3Co9XgMtfVWr6Wp3cE_vs-MPUA9SNl0ewY39dbYGTb7bGOAEdOlGmpV7MBdJz0DnEFGQyTusFL1TBute9SORASJ9z5Q/s200/IMG_0138.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233315233893357842" /></a>But as a little payback, I am posting this dork picture of him. On Wednesday night, we visited camp for a community worship service. We got lots of hugs from our campers ... but had to FORCE Giles to take this picture with us. </div>memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-79490740969431624922008-08-01T08:35:00.003-05:002008-08-01T22:00:25.110-05:00Skool ShmoolGetting excited and about to get ready. But resentful of all of the "back to school" hype.<div><br /></div><div>When school was letting out last May, we would be asked when our last day of school was. My typical response is "never." </div><div><br /></div><div>We're educating for life! So it's never over. Plus, that was the guilt ridden homeschool mom answer to being able to catch up or measure up or one up.</div><div><br /></div><div>But when summer hit (when the school kids got out), it was OVER. And I was relieved. I needed the break. They needed a break.</div><div><br /></div><div>Mostly I needed the break just to let myself off the hook of feeling like a failure at the end of every day or week. Or that we didn't do enough ... or that TOMORROW will be the day we figure this out.</div><div><br /></div><div>Educating for life. </div><div><br /></div><div>I really need my support homeschool group. I'm letting the guilt, satan and feelings of inadequacy creep in. </div><div><br /></div><div>Wouldn't they be better off in school?</div><div>Doesn't everyone else's family do it better ... or correctly?</div><div>Who am I kidding?</div><div><br /></div><div>Wew. This entry is all over the place. A true journal thought that has no business on the internet ... but keepin' it real. Keepin' it real.</div><div><br /></div><div>So now the question ... when are you starting school again?</div><div><br /></div><div>NEVER. </div><div><br /></div><div>We're educating for life.</div><div><br /></div><div>And going on vacation when everyone else goes back to school (taking our school with us, of course!).</div><div><br /></div><div>That's how we roll.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div></div>memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-5469979972084193892008-07-29T22:25:00.004-05:002008-12-08T20:20:56.283-06:00Wearing ...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS_ar0V965Ro72z7733OvyaL6ANielLDc5KJjn0kfjtFeWS4gw4sxN-tS_WXbwZRUW-2isBFULHQGUBJHXbueWMBFaj1HDqqyzM5nGCo6pmjap-r207HWgSJIUJGa57U24-pIZYw/s1600-h/SPfiles_vom_200807_files_vom_olympicprayerband3.jpg.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS_ar0V965Ro72z7733OvyaL6ANielLDc5KJjn0kfjtFeWS4gw4sxN-tS_WXbwZRUW-2isBFULHQGUBJHXbueWMBFaj1HDqqyzM5nGCo6pmjap-r207HWgSJIUJGa57U24-pIZYw/s200/SPfiles_vom_200807_files_vom_olympicprayerband3.jpg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228643173375422866" /></a><br />Do NOT ask me where these were made. I don't want to know. <div><br /></div><div>Got these in the mail today from <a href="http://etools.780net.com/a/vomso/bg_vomso_FOTF-china-prayer-bands_319.html">Voice of the Martyrs</a> to remind us to pray for China and the persecuted Christians there as the eyes of the world are on the Olympics.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe it's okay that these were made in China!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-38492580407322333362008-07-29T11:22:00.004-05:002008-07-30T15:29:05.216-05:00Baseball Camp<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxVO0_DvhYdUKwJBvQxoDa7eh3r6XG-gGedGOSWynVlpqfuGYsaXLOmZBuJKuKY96eV3OOYeXtptPo' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div><br /></div><div>Here is a quick slideshow from our baseball camp on Saturday. The boys ranged in age from seven to teen. Some had NEVER had a ball glove on. By the end of they day though ... they were hooked. I need to work on making videos that appear small ... cuz I know these image are fuzzy. They look better ... bigger. Fun day.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh. The slipnslide was part of the day's activities. How else do you learn to slide into first base?</div><div><br /></div><div>The best part of the day was on the way home. I asked them the best part of the day. One guy said the best part was the centers, where they broke up into small groups to work on various skills. Because, he said. "That's when we got to know each other better." Everyone agreed.</div>memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-32338156401971458572008-07-29T08:01:00.005-05:002008-07-29T08:48:58.600-05:00Shock factorGod tells us not to live of the world while we live in it, but sometimes it might be helpful to brush up against the world to remember what we're dealing with when we are safe in our homes, reading our Bibles quietly, planning a nice dinner and meeting our friends for coffee.<div><br /></div><div>And I am not talking about what we watch on TV. </div><div><br /></div><div>Although the scene I am about to describe most of us have seen played out on the tube before.</div><div><br /></div><div>So last Saturday morning, early, right before 8, G and I were at Rock Island (part of Cross & Crown mission) to pick up some kids to go to baseball camp that my nephew, Chaney, did a fantastic job organizing. </div><div><br /></div><div>We were waiting for some more kids to come. Chandy was in the van and I was sort of in the street talking to her. (One of us better blog about the baseball camp soon, because it was such a super great HOT day. I am working on a little slideshow to show off my 250 pictures that I took).</div><div><br /></div><div>As we chatted, a little old SUV drove right by me. I was all neighborly and waved and smiled. "Hey!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Then it's like my brain went into reverse and replayed the seconds right before that vehicle drove by me (just like on TV).</div><div><br /></div><div>Didn't he just stop and pick her up down the block?</div><div><br /></div><div>Are they?</div><div><br /></div><div>Is that?</div><div><br /></div><div>For real?</div><div><br /></div><div>I looked at Chandy with my "are they doing what I think they are doing" look.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yep.</div><div><br /></div><div>The girl looked to be introducing herself to him, but she already looked pretty strung out ... a requirement for her line of work. The guy was looking straight ahead.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is the kind of thing that stops me in my tracks, every time. I just wanted to cry out to God (which I silently did) and go grab that girl. I never do that though. </div><div><br /></div><div>Giles didn't observe any of this, I don't think. He was bonding with the Rock Island kids in the back of the mission van. Doesn't matter though. He's seen it already. One time, a girl in that same line of work FLASHED our van as we drove by one Sunday morning after we picked up someone for church. </div><div><br /></div><div>Shocking! Yes. Good grief. We were going to CHURCH ... we were all clean and ready to go worship God. She shouldn't have been flashing us, or trying to score a job on Sunday morning. Geez.</div><div><br /></div><div>Love her for flashing the minivan. She knew it was full of a bunch of hypocrites.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-68029471222157550892008-07-28T21:56:00.008-05:002008-12-08T20:20:56.453-06:00Not Green<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-mAbLqCLLeshDbHH-uOHQayUuhZOE6GU4CTSgXZFeFUgJJX4QFfB8gOkXih6dO4cn5XRW_f5dVgq9j-_aghXR-09kEXKM_RpqAEBAuMf8pHMNblpsG1AjHfUezjioW5C_0UAJNA/s1600-h/41lkVRiogHL._SS260_.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-mAbLqCLLeshDbHH-uOHQayUuhZOE6GU4CTSgXZFeFUgJJX4QFfB8gOkXih6dO4cn5XRW_f5dVgq9j-_aghXR-09kEXKM_RpqAEBAuMf8pHMNblpsG1AjHfUezjioW5C_0UAJNA/s200/41lkVRiogHL._SS260_.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228265151665023442" /></a><br />Even if it's on sale ... those cute graphic tshirts at places like Target might remind us to be more green ... but they are not green. <div><br /></div><div>I was tempted tonight though. 30 percent off!</div><div><br /></div><div>Something deep in my consciousness flicked on to alert me ... THAT IS NOT A GREEN TSHIRT. </div><div><br /></div><div>Go on ... check the label. You know it's made in a sweat shop somewhere, probably by children or at least men or women who are woefully underpaid. How else could it be marked for $8 or whatever.</div><div><br /></div><div>How much fossil fuel did it take to get that Tshirt here for me to buy it on sale? On the ships to get it from their coasts to our coasts, and the trucks to haul it across the country.</div><div><br /></div><div>Guess where it was made? The Philippines. Other "green" shirts were made in Guatemala and Cambodia.</div><div><br /></div><div>Learning.</div><div>Learning to not buy cheap c$#p anymore.</div><div><br /></div><div>Learning not to eat asparagus anytime other than early spring. If you eat it "fresh" in the hot summer or dead of winter ... think of where in the world it might be springtime or mild enough to have it grow and what it took to get it to you. (learned that from the Kingsolver book, Animal Vegetable Miracle).</div><div><br /></div><div>Just finished East of Eden (thank <a href="http://sojochick.blogspot.com/">Sojo Ann</a>! for the book recommendation). And, how does a Steinbeck classic figure into this ramble? Ah! There's a big scene where Adam Trask wants to utilize the just built railroads and new refrigeration processes to send southern California lettuce to New York, in the winter. As a delicacy. That's how it started. Lettuce in the winter. Grapes (that lost their seeds) in the winter. Sweet potatoes in the summer. Delicacies turn to market demand and expectation. And that's why we can find bananas on every grocery store shelf in America. Anyone you know have a banana tree?</div><div><br /></div><div>We are doomed. Doomed!</div><div><br /></div><div>Learning. Laughing. </div><div><br /></div><div>(UPDATE: Laughing because we will never give up bananas at our house. Mr. Anti-Sodium would not have it. What would he put his organic locally produced (no sodium) peanut butter on? Laughing because he's laughing at me over this post. Laughing because someday we might move to where bananas grow! Yay!)</div><div><div><br /></div></div>memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-66293664076678844562008-07-23T08:29:00.006-05:002008-12-08T20:20:56.585-06:00Refreshing!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEL7Ti1gEQoVBsmanBmiLO_DcEM-z5cVCXicrSaYPZn-JQMUTDpQbpd_W_I8P8LyvFKqjcs984LEsQMPo_1T8rE5vNtUo2x_ke1w1DtGgKdXpw_5zyzbCuc6S6uu0gF8voQnzfmw/s1600-h/PICT0002.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEL7Ti1gEQoVBsmanBmiLO_DcEM-z5cVCXicrSaYPZn-JQMUTDpQbpd_W_I8P8LyvFKqjcs984LEsQMPo_1T8rE5vNtUo2x_ke1w1DtGgKdXpw_5zyzbCuc6S6uu0gF8voQnzfmw/s320/PICT0002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226201379781881666" /></a><br /><div>I'm reading Barbara Kingsolver's book <a href="http://www.animalvegetablemiracle.com/">Animal Vegetable Miracle, a year of food life.</a></div><div>Love it although it scares me! </div><div><br /></div><div>The fear of the Lord is the beginning of understanding, and so it goes with the food God gave us. I'm "beginning" to understand it. And it's about time.</div><div><br /></div><div>This book is a narrative non-fiction ... no black mamba snakes from the Congo like in her beloved Poisonwood Bible.</div><div><br /></div><div>The most amazing thing about the book is not so much what Barbara (I feel I can use her first name) and her husband (Steven L. Hopps) write ... but it's their daughter's contributions also. Their 19-year-old (at the time) daughter.</div><div><br /></div><div>Camille Kingsolver contributed most of the recipes. She just didn't type them in for her mom to get her name in the author credits. They are her recipes that SHE cooks and has cooked for years. And she not only knows how to can, but she loves it more than shopping at the mall! You go Camille.</div><div><br /></div><div>Beautiful stuff. The scariest and saddest part as it would apply to our life is that their family swore off CAFO (feedlot beef) over a decade ago ... and their youngest daughter has never had a restaurant burger before. Yes, dear ones, that means she knows not of the Happy Meal. </div><div><br /></div><div>Dang. My oldest son is about their daughter's age. And I shudder to think of the happy meals, big kids meals and now value meals that he, and the rest of us, have consumed. We are doomed. Doomed.</div><div><br /></div><div>Reminds me that even though I am trying ... I still get tricked. I got tricked just this week at Walgreens buying school supplies for a nickle with my coupons (mechanical pencils, anyone?). I also had a coupon that worked for trail mix or dried fruit. After having a wonderfully friendly employee help me find the proper package, I saw that the coupon worked for dried blueberries. Dried blueberries on sale. Lucky me. Yay. I imagined them on salads, tossed with our fresh peaches and thrown in smoothies.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had a little taste when we got home. Kind of funky. THEN, and only then, did I look at the package. Ingredients: blueberries and the evil high fructose corn syrup. It might not have even been in that order.</div><div><br /></div><div>ARE YOU KIDDING ME? WHY? WHY? WHY? Why do we need soak our beautiful naturally sweet and perfect blueberries in CHEMICAL CORN? </div><div>Foiled again.</div><div>Always. Read. The. Package. Closely.</div><div>Or dry your own blueberries like the Kingsolver's would do. </div><div><br /></div><div>In other food news, our awesome college friend Kevin has a <a href="http://kevincornett.wordpress.com/">website</a> chronicling his journey back to health. If you look at his pictures and see the June post ... you'll see the Kevin we knew when we were college brats touring Europe together (along with <a href="http://fullofjoy3.blogspot.com/">Full of Joy</a> and her parents when she was but a young lassie) ... back in the 1980s! Check out his green smoothie recipe. Really. It is GOOD. Really. I just made one ... spinach, fresh peaches, banana, ice (and no chemical blueberries).</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-43260461603985449282008-07-14T10:57:00.002-05:002008-07-14T11:17:52.204-05:00Widows and OrphansWhile I'm swiping videos from other sources, here's a small vid we did last week for <a href="http://crossandcrownmission.com/">Cross & Crown Mission</a> that "aired" Sunday at a local suburban church. Paul spoke on James 1:27 ... the widows and orphans verse.<br /><br />I love The Message's interpretation of that verse. "Real religion, the kind that passes muster before God the Father, is this: Reach out to the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">homeless and loveless</span></span></span> in their plight, and guard against corruption from the godless world."<br /><br />Here's how I had always read that verse from the good old NIV:<br />"27Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."<br /><br />I like the Message's "homeless and loveless." Nails it.<br /><br />Loveless. Doesn't that stop you in your tracks? Love the loveless. Man, that is HARD.<br /><br />I was surprised when Paul wanted me to "feature" one of the orphans they take care of at the mission. He's not a baby or a little kid. He's 20. We have a heart-wrenching answering machine message from him (in this vid). He gets cared for at the mission ... and loved through the trouble he gets into, the "harassing" he might do to get some cash or meal cards ... and how he fights his demons. He's an orphan. <br /><br />The widow in this vid is a neighbor. She is blind and frail and scared of the sounds she hears in da hood around her. She has the most beautiful little hands. She's been a "widow" since 1942!<br /><br />Read the Bible to her. Hold her hand. Bring her some blackberries. Love on her. Listen to her stories. It's all it takes.<br /><br />Do you ever have an overwhelming feeling of panic sometimes that God is going to hold us accountable for how his church did not take care of the widows and orphans (homeless and loveless)? The way we have let the state take care of them through behemoth bureaucracies that are inefficient, overwhelmed and cold? (Not saying the church doesn't do it, sometimes, or that all state workers are cold.)<br /><br />I do. What should we do about it? <div>Okay, I'm sliding back into my hidey hole now. Just typing words ...</div><div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/X4voW66Qc6k&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/X4voW66Qc6k&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div>memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-14753744116407024882008-07-12T17:06:00.004-05:002008-07-12T17:23:41.012-05:00Stealing ... cardboard testimonies.Is it stealing? I don't know. <br /><br />But my friend, Keli, sent me a link to this video. She doesn't have time to forward stuff or spend eight minutes watching (with her four precious bebes) ... and you think you don't have time either. BUT MAKE THE TIME.<br /><br />I'll save you a little search time, this comes from <a href="http://www.hillsidewired.com/">Hillside Christian</a> in Amarillo.<br /><br />Now, this is church.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RvDDc5RB6FQ&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RvDDc5RB6FQ&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-25382594643052619972008-07-07T22:54:00.003-05:002008-07-07T23:28:18.018-05:00MercyWhen I'm rocking along whining about my kids wanting cell phones and "mall" clothes, I meet a new gal at the mission today who brings a little perspective to what we're dealing with in this world.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.crossandcrownmission.com/">Cross and Crown</a> opens at 11 and the staff prays at 10:30.We got there during that time, and so we waited outside with the others who were there for prayer and food. I sat next to a lady, and started some chitchat. How are you, I asked. Not great. She said. Then I'm thinking ... DUH, what'd I ask that for? She was there, right? She needs HELP, doesn't she? Get a clue, I said to myself.<br /><br /> She was older and had some pretty impressive tats, including a cool tat ankle charm bracelet complete with tat charms that included a cross.<br /><br />Anyway, the conversation finally opened beyond the weather and "how are yous" ... and pretty soon I found out she's raising her grandkids because her kids are in prison (drugs). The preschool age child wants to see her mom all of the time. The older child doesn't.<br /><br />Add to that, gasoline is too expensive to make as many trips to the pokey that is in another town. <br /><br />She's had heart trouble and a stroke ... no doubt exasperated by the added stress in her life. Can you imagine?<br /><br />Mercy.<br /><br /><br />He has showed you, O man, what is good. <br /> And what does the LORD require of you? <br /> To act justly and to love mercy <br /> and to walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-64451477671537616712008-07-07T22:37:00.002-05:002008-07-07T22:41:37.585-05:00Welcome to Minco<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wQAuyx98oME&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wQAuyx98oME&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Love Lucas Ross. Famous OC alum. Hilarious. He doesn't know me from a hill of beans or a beehive, but I know who he is. Just heard about this vid today ... and laughed and laughed.memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16819287.post-45117847714573491782008-07-07T22:00:00.003-05:002008-12-08T20:20:56.928-06:00Summer Trends<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_4gc7xapWqPjGff6EzXn88qCQcf1FwUdMzdO-qfynPilzYTZ5Wcox96O3XDi8kv6B3V5sH58NN-C_-Opih-9KDULSS2IrfeIOfmNmivb5-bcP53xcExwS6cMcBDOhhm3WnzXVlA/s1600-h/IMG_0213.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_4gc7xapWqPjGff6EzXn88qCQcf1FwUdMzdO-qfynPilzYTZ5Wcox96O3XDi8kv6B3V5sH58NN-C_-Opih-9KDULSS2IrfeIOfmNmivb5-bcP53xcExwS6cMcBDOhhm3WnzXVlA/s320/IMG_0213.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220474502806445746" /></a><br />I've been wanting to snap this picture all summer. G and his buddies sit in front of us each Sunday morning. And each Sunday, they have on their plaid shorts. I feared they wouldn't let me take a picture of their backsides or flaunt their fashion savvy in this way. AND, I confess, I actually took this DURING our worship service. But at least I tried to be discreet (no flash!) ... so the picture isn't the best.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHysH2Gs9Ta2wq8NpvfawztF-zdCBAF7KkmQBAiya2beV0ImrAR8xJh_xVJqdQZQko7GGHZyS94Qu0Ze_sKK-bZJQo9zRJwU-uOJJvdpnkAeRrIyDgR3spiOjI7Wym-cZ-gpSIBA/s1600-h/IMG_0215.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHysH2Gs9Ta2wq8NpvfawztF-zdCBAF7KkmQBAiya2beV0ImrAR8xJh_xVJqdQZQko7GGHZyS94Qu0Ze_sKK-bZJQo9zRJwU-uOJJvdpnkAeRrIyDgR3spiOjI7Wym-cZ-gpSIBA/s320/IMG_0215.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220474509346927682" /></a><br />Then there are the girls. And what I call the <a href="http://www.kitkittredge.com/">Kit</a> hairdo, that I wonder if I myself could pull off. There's a whole gaggle of 7 - 10 year old girls who are precious in every way. Young enough to ALL be best of friends without boys, jealousy and icky junk interfering with their sweetness and giggles. Every week, there's another one who shows up with THE hair cut of the summer. Wonderfully adorable. (I took this AFTER service ... but wish I'd try to art direct a little more. But as cute as they are, they didn't get WHY I wanted to take a picture of the back of their hair.)<br /> <br />These trends are easy, but I am finding myself more and more distressed and ill equipped to handle the intense pressure of hearing from my kids about what "everyone else" has. Cell phones at ten years old? (Do their parents know they are texting at midnight?) Ipod nanos (we have one shuffle in the house and it is MINE). Bikinis (yes, even at 8 or 40). Abercrombie (I might write about that some day). It's tough. When that was rolling around my head today, I read this from <a href="http://manymeadows.blogspot.com/2008/07/comparing.html">Many Meadows.</a> She rules. Her post on comparing helps put it in perspective - <a href="http://kidsteacher.blogspot.com/2008/04/be-content-with-what-you-have.html">being content</a>, understanding (2 Cor 10:12) ... AND ... not conforming to the pattern of this world (Rom 12:12) ... which is a lot easier for me to DO myself (at this old age) than it is to explain or communicate EFFECTIVELY to my children. Do I have any amens? Do I have any advice?memykidsteacherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01921541653596582907noreply@blogger.com0