Nora Brings Down the House!

Every day I need to write down the hilarious sayings from my little Colombian princess.  Here are a few from this week.

Me: (asking my dad) Do you know why the flags are at half mass?

Dad: No.

Nora: Maybe they’re broken.

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Nora: Mom, do you shrink when you are a grandma?

Me: Yes, you get a little bit shorter.

Nora: I’m going to be a mini grandma!

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We were all riding in the truck pacing for my son on his bicycle (who rides behind the truck to practice going faster with drafting.) We went down the same stretch of road twice and then Nora said, “We should let him go first this time!”

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Riding in the back seat of the truck with the windows down, Nora yells, “I can’t breathe. The air is in my face!”

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Nora: Mom, do you know how to dance like a princess?

Me: I don’t think so.

Nora: All you do is point your toes and make your arms go like this (slowly puts her arms out)…. but you also need a prince.

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A really loud motorcycle went by our car and Nora put her hand to her chest and lamented, “I think that broke my heart!”

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Nora helped me make a salad from a bag kit.  She mixed it all up and then asked me, “Do you want me to put on the drussian?”   (I think that might be Russian dressing???)

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Nora caught a whiff of her sweaty brothers after street hockey and said to her sister, “Boys stink!”  Larisa said, “Girls stink too.”  To which she flabbergastedly replied, “REALLY?  I did not know that!”

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Her bedtime prayers make me want to giggle.  She tells God that she hopes he has a good day.  She thanks him for the food and then explains to him that she knows it’s not time to eat but she is thankful we have food.  She often says, “Thank you God for me.”  I love it!

“Be Ready!”

In March 2012, our eldest child flew off alone to Tulsa, Oklahoma (OKLAHOMA!) to interview for a scholarship for the college she REALLY wanted to go to.  It was one of the few colleges that made the cut of still believing and upholding the godly standards on which it was founded.  As she was a thousand miles away that weekend, I had one of those God moments where I heard His still small voice in my spirit (in the bathroom, but that is beside the point) whisper, “Be ready!”  That was it.  Be ready.  READY FOR WHAT? I wanted to scream…. in fact, I probably did.

Of course in my own little control-freak mind I made my list of what I thought I needed to be ready for… or with… or against… or because of…   (See? It was pointless!)  I prayed up more.  I Bible studied harder.  I threw myself into money making. I lectured.  I bit my tongue.  (See? It was pointless!)  I should have been focusing on Psalms 46:10, “Be still and know that I am God.”  Oh yeah. Right.

We knew the cost of school for our sweet girl would cause us to walk the tightrope of faith financially.  And we have.  And God has shown up.  Over and over again.  Please let me climb up on my testimony box and shout out some praises for a minute or two… or three, of how God has shown up in the last THREE WEEKS!

Three days before our Canadian-thick-blooded relatives were coming to stay with us in sunny Arizona, the air conditioner decided to only work for ten seconds at a time in three minute intervals.  For those who don’t live in Arizona, that is not quite adequate for keeping the house at a comfortable temperature for Canadians.  (I was fine, but this is not about me.)  I called Rob the A/C repairman.  He came out and visited me for three hours to the tune of $1,300.  Ouch!  Thankfully Rob and my husband Rick are members of Tradesource, where private businesses can barter services, so we only had to fork over $370…. of the $380 in our account at that time.  I wrote the check and sent God a little reminder that we may need Him to show up in the next few days if our relatives planned on eating while visiting.  “Hey, welcome!  It’s canned tuna week!” 

Corresponding with the northerly visitors, Larisa, our college girl was also coming home for Spring Break with her roommate!  WhoooHOooOOooo!  Party time! (and you thought the cafeteria food was bad!)  I scrubbed the visitor bathroom until it gleamed like Joel Osteen’s teeth.  Seriously!  The only thing I needed to purchase was a $2 shower liner so I headed off to Bed Bath and Beyond with four hours and $8 to spare!  Perfect!

Two miles into my three mile adventure, a girl pulled right out in front of me and I t-boned her.  This is what I remember: Air bags. Checking if Nora (9 year old) was ok in the seat behind me.  Nice strangers who stopped to help. Policemen. Firemen. OH DANG IT DO MY LEGS HURT! My dad coming.  ER visit (without my boys… that was rare!). And then I arrived on the yellow couch in the living room 21 days ago.  I’m still there.  What I am allowed to share is that I am wounded and receiving care. God protected us BIG TIME!  (I can walk. I can cry.  I can brush my teeth with my left hand. I can type. And I’m really good at taking pills every 4 to 6 hours that may cause dry mouth, chills, panic attacks, anxiety, inability to sit still, seizures, delusions, fainting, itching, slurred speech, etc. etc. etc.)  Is THIS what I needed to be ready for?

That was a Saturday.  The following Monday the Canadians showed up at the doorstep along with the homeschoolers and various other peeps who delivered meals for two straight weeks (and now we’re on an every-other day schedule for two MORE weeks.)  Not just pasta dinner.  Gourmet chicken with French names and seasoned vegetables that were hoarded by my children. And not just dinner.  Breakfast pie showed up.  Oranges by the bag full. And pizzas and sandwich meat and fruit bowls and chocolate cake and bagels and cream cheese and whole grain bread that I never buy and potato salad and ice cream sandwiches and milk and ALL the food that was necessary to feed our family and the four visiting guests while $8 sat in our bank account.  Maybe THIS was what I needed to be ready for.

The van may or may not be totaled.  We’ll see.  We got a rental car that I am too delusional to drive….. and my children are not over 21, so they can’t drive it either.  FUN!  My husband figured he may as well take it to work and save money on gas…. and he rear-ended a nice lady who stopped really rapidly on the highway.  IN THE RENTAL CAR. Can you spell deductible?  So, my hubby took it back and got another rental car that looked exactly the same, except the seats were tan, not black.  He came home that night and took his brother to the store.  His brother mentioned, “I could have sworn these seats were black!”  Um, yeah.  Is THIS what we needed to be ready for?

If that hoopla wasn’t enough to make my mother hit her replaced knees in fervent prayer, yesterday my hard-working son (who has a Jedi braid, but that is not crucial to the storyline) volunteered to spend his day helping his cycling team set up for a race last night.  As if our family has big targets on our backsides at the moment, a loathsome individual made off with my son’s $8,000 bike. Yes, you read that right. A two-wheeled pedal bike… $8,000.  He is sponsored.  It is on loan to him.  We did not pay $8,000 for a bike with which I can do one-handed curls. I learned about the lifted bicycle from my husband who left me a message on my phone while I was in my 6th doctor’s appointment to end the week.  WAS THIS WHAT WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE READY FOR???

Today my bikeless son’s facebook status reads, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him and have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28 God showed me this yesterday.”

Besides messaging me about the missing bike, my husband prayed.  And then he posted a little ditty on facebook about the bike and asked others to pray.  Because we know that prayer works.  A friend of ours in Canada who was supposed to be paying attention in a business meeting, who happens to hate injustice and loves hardworking youngsters, went on facebook and read Rick’s message……. and bought a new bike for my son.  We were close to speechless.  A tearful thank you was all I could get out. What I loved about this was all the glory was given to God… in front of the teammates.  By son and father, without shame.  Maybe THIS is what we were supposed to be ready for?

Be ready…. to live your life for God no matter what.  Be ready …. to rely on God for everything.  Be ready…. in good times and bad to praise God, for He is worthy of our praise.  Be ready.

Kings Canyon Camping Episode 4: RACCOON RECONNAISSANCE

After the rain puddled under the boy’s tent, they were invited into the tent trailer with all seven of us girls.  Two came; one decided the van was a better option.  Fine.  Freeze your buns off, Superman.  And most cyclists sleep with their bikes, right?

As the sun slid behind the trees and the darkness of night emerged, Austin was making his car cave cozy.  The back hatch of the van was open as he was arranging and reorganizing camping paraphernalia.  After walking over to the fire area for a while he went back to the van and saw something move on his sleeping bag.  Immediately assuming it was a prank by his brother, he said, “Keeve, what are you doing?”  Then the raccoon jumped out and my strong and brave 16-year-old man child screamed like a girl.  Well, a girl with a low voice.  The varmint left…. temporarily.  Later I noticed the boy’s tent was still unzipped and went to remedy the situation.  There were muddy raccoon paw prints all over the sleeping mats.  Great.

Thankful for my athletic ability and throwing accuracy, I could generally make contact with a pineapple size pine cone and a raccoon, but they still came back!  GAH!  And after the first two nights, I was no longer an animal activist.  I had turned into an NRA fanatic…. without the gun.  We piled ammo next to our camping chairs.  The question became: How many times does a coon need to be hit in the head with a pine cone before he doesn’t return?  The answer: we never found out.  More than six or seven.

Nora sat in her chair by the fire pleading, “Please don’t throw things at the raccoons.  I want to see one.  I have never seen a whole raccoon.  Please don’t throw pine cones, Mom. I want to see the body.  Stop scaring them away. I have NEVER seen a whole raccoon. Just wait till I see it ALL, then throw stuff.”  Good grief, child. That is what the zoo is for!

Night #3 it was me against the critters.  The youngest six children were bedded down.  The other mama and two eldest were gone washing dishes.  I piled my cones next to me and sat by the fire waiting.  It took about three minutes before I turned and saw a large striped bandit hauling away a backpack that had been left out.  I bombarded him and screamed bloody murder.  Six giggling children could be heard in the trailer.  Sheesh.  He dropped the back pack, but made off with a plastic bag of something.  I grabbed the pack and threw it in the trailer.  Meanwhile, I saw another masked face making his way to the bear box… I threw large sticks and pine cones as he retreated from my screams.  More laughing… but no help in defending the fortress.

Then horror of horrors, the propane lantern ran out of fuel and darkness enveloped me….. I had no night vision and groped around for a flashlight while hearing the approaching critters.  The headlines in the Kings Canyon Newsletter the next morning could have very likely read: “Crazed camping woman goes ballistic and keeps entire camp group awake after quiet hours.”  I didn’t care.  At all.  I found a lame flashlight, the firestarter and was changing the propane tank at the picnic table when my nemesis climbed right up on the other bench and looked across the table at me.  FOUR FEET FROM MY FACE!  Three days later my throat is still sore from the ear piercing, guttural yell, “GIT OUTTA HEEEEERRRRREEE!”  It must have been quite terrifying because he never came back.  Good.

At that point, my son returned to find knocked over chairs, pine cones and large sticks scattered around the camp, a propane tank on the ground and his  hyperventilating mother trying to light the lantern.  Aerobic workout for the day… check!

Raccoons: 1 bag of sunflower seeds.

Me: 1 terrifying memory that will likely pop up in nightmares for years to come.

Please stay tuned for upcoming episodes of Kings Canyon Camping.

My Son Wears a Unitard…..

…. but thankfully, he’s not dancing with ribbons at the same time!  He is riding for a foundation called Team Winded that raises awareness of asthma.  We are THRILLED that he has this opportunity and gets to associate with top-notch individuals who are making Team Winded function!

That’s him on the right with the Night Rider glasses on.  I love the team’s orange booties because it makes the riders so easily identifiable on the track! Today was Austin’s first category four race.  Cycling begins at category five and they work their way up to one… and professional.  We’ve been told that it usually takes about ten years of riding to hit your prime… that will be age 24 for Austin.  It’s a long term goal, but he is passionate, determined and sturdy!

Here is an informative article about The Winded Foundation:  http://www.freedomwaymagazine.com/winded-foundation-works-raise-asthma-awareness

God has brought many amazing opportunities into this young man’s life…. this is by far one of the coolest!!!  Thank you, Team Winded (Jay and Tisha!) for sponsoring Austin and having the vision to grow riders! These guys range in age from 15 to 18 and Austin is one of the youngest on the team.

(Austin is third from the right above and in the middle below.)

The Countdown has Begun!

As I sat writing all the family birthdays in my new Greece calendar, filled with cerulean seas, cobalt domes and whitewashed walls, I realized that the countdown to nights away from home has begun!  It’s 15!  I know some people have to travel for work, and they don’t love it, but I work/live/breathe/sleep/teach in the same four walls day in and day out.  No mistaking it, I love it… but time away from home brings joy to my globetrotting soul.  I have imagined that the perfect job for me would be to travel the world and write reviews of far off lands for future vacationers.

There is a night coming this month… only one night.. but still, I look forward to it with my hubby.  The first of March there are four glorious days marked on the calendar for Scrapping in the Pines with my girlfriends.  It is supposedly a scrapbooking retreat… but less and less scrapbooking is accomplished as the years go by.  It should probably be renamed Being Lazy in the Pines….   THAT is a true holiday….. no kids, no cooking, no bedtime, no cleaning, no agenda (other than posted mealtimes)… no wonder it calls my name every six months!  Last September we watched 8 or 9 movies!  Couch Potatoes unite!  It was sublime.

Rick and I endured one of those time-share sales pitches to “win” a free cruise… with some strings attached, of course.  But the strings are cheap cheap cheap for the eight-day trip.  I like bunk beds!  We are awaiting to see if it will be the Western Caribbean in March or Alaska in June.  I’m REALLY hoping for white beaches and not white whales…. but alas, it is also my husband’s 25th wedding anniversary… so I was the nice wife (not the crabby wife) and let him choose one destination.  He’s a true Canadian with ice in his veins.

Our annual trip to Lake Tahoe has moved to August this year…. which is fantastic for us living in Phoenix, right next door to hell in the summer.  And our son, who is cycling again after the broken arm the week before Christmas, has a couple of races that may require over-night stays… can you see how high my hand is raised to volunteer to escort him???  I feel some mother-son bonding around the corner.  I’ll wear whatever t-shirt they want me to!

So, school drudgery is laid to rest each time I peer at the highlighted days in my purse daytimer.  By the end of February the kids will be wondering why I keep taking the daytimer into the bathroom so often.  It’s my own version of Calgon.

Green Team Racing

Since Austin had to quit playing hockey due to multiple concussions, he has taken up cycling and is loving it.  For a 14 year old, I’m amazed at how far he rides and how fast he goes.  He does 32 and 45 mile rides during the week….. just for fun.  (what?)  Today he had a time trial race in Wickenburg, Arizona, about 35 miles northwest of our home.  It is about 1,000 feet higher than where we live and it was extremely cold and windy.  Not fun for the bikers or the fans.  Yes, that is snow in the mountains….. in Arizona, land of the sun.

Aus raced in the juniors class and he ended up in second place!  His buddy from his team came in third.  So the Green Team did well today!

In timed trials, they start individually.  (I learned this today.)  The ride was hilly, and chilly, and COLD!  Usually time trials are on flat land, but not today.

This is Vulture Mine Road….. where it all happened.  Great job, Austin!  Makes a mama proud!

Filterless People

Some people are born with a filter and some are not.  This filter I’m referring to is the one that stops you from saying things in public before you realize that you shouldn’t say them.  Please hang with me, people, while I share a few nightmarish stories that are unfortunately factual.

Four years ago, right after I had reached the  B I G   FOUR-O Plateau of Life, I found myself sitting at a scrapbooking event with a table full of women that I was not acquainted with.  Across from me sat a beautiful younger woman who was ready to deliver a child in the next twenty minutes, if my calculations were correct.  She made me feel old.  Making friendly conversation and assuming that she was 20 years my junior, I asked if it was her first child.  Her answer shocked me.  With a terribly ungrateful tone she blurted out, “It’s my fourth and my youngest is 12!”  Knowing exactly how she was feeling with three older kids of my own at home, but taken aback by her response, my filter malfunctioned and I spat back in all honesty and truth, “THAT is my nightmare!”  Oh boy.  The good news is, I’ve never seen her again, and thankfully that was one of the only times I remember a filter malfunction.

My husband does have a filter, but it has much larger holes than mine does, allowing more humiliating information to pass through.  Yes, only humiliating for me.  For some strange reason I can think of SEVERAL instances to share with you.  From three days ago, as a matter of fact, comes my first example.  We were at a wedding, seated around a table with 6 members of my family, one acquaintance and two strangers.  My dear husband blurts out, “Did you see the wedding cake?!?  It looks like the Wailing Wall!”  Now that would be all funny and amusing, but my mother went pale, made a horrible face and slightly shook her head four times.  Both my husband and I saw her response and glanced around the table to see what the big deal was.  No sign of anything that I could detect, but we later discovered that stranger #1 was the son of the cake maker.  Great.

Another recent occurence is only nine days old.  Rick and I were asked to attend a leadership conference to see if we are interested in serving on a state-wide committee.  It was slightly an interview-type meeting.  We lunched with current committee members whom we knew by name, but not by face.  They didn’t know us from Adam and Eve.  There were three other couples and the two of us sitting in a corner of a banquet room conducting pleasant conversation when it happened.  BAM!  Just like that!  I had an out-of-body experience hearing my husband tell a story that is not “new-committee-member-appropriate” about a cycling trip, unexpectedly running into old friends and then finding out later that he had holes in the back of his biking shorts.  GREAT!  We haven’t been contacted by anyone on the committee since the fateful holy-stretchy-shorts story.  Maybe this was God’s way of keeping our responsibilities to a minimum.

Another time, when we were up in front of a married couples group…. with microphone in hand, my dear husband actually told everyone to wait a minute while I wiped his bum.  For that story of awesomeness, please go here:  https://mysistersjar.wordpress.com/2009/03/24/a-little-dessert-please/  (Someday my sister-in-law, Jennie, will show me how to use links for your viewing pleasure.)

Okay, I just thought of the other time my filter leaked out a response that was less than cordial.  It is a 25 year-old story.  My husband-to-be and I were in a shoe section of a major department store looking for steel-toed boots for Rick.  The salesman brought out two specimens for him to try on, one with a smooth leather curve from the laces to the sole, and the other with a sewn ridge around the top of the toe.  Curiously I asked, “Which one is more durable?”  The salesman, somewhat cockily answered, ‘Obviously THIS one.”  And my filter did not stop me from firing right back, “OBVIOUSLY, that’s why I asked!”  Oops.  :o)

Seriously, I could think of twenty-seven more cool stories about my husband and the missing filter topic, but I’ll spare you for now. (Blog topic dedicated to Mary Ann, a filterless friend.)