My very first! Plank Pulling Thursday

This is my first Plank Pulling Thursday that Bohemian Bowmans has been hosting for quite a while now.

She says " . . . The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5, style."



So bear with me -

Recently, I've had two great friends celebrate their birthdays.  One, her hubby set up an elaborate surprise getaway to a Bed & Breakfast followed on their return to a surprise pot luck party with friends.  The other had her friends *our* friends throw a surprise black and white party. I just love both these ladies and every one of 'em that set all this up.  And I *love* to celebrate birthdays!

Here's the plank.

I've got childish envie up the wazoo.  Yes.  Grown woman, mother of three, former Army National Guard, field missionary since 1997, I. have. jumped. out. of. planes!  For crying out loud!  Picture me, on the floor, kicking my heals, pounding my fists.  IWAANNAABIRTHDAYPARTY!  I WANT SOMEBODY TO REMEMBER ME!

*sigh* (give me a minute to gather myself)

And my plank is big enough that I want someone else to remember my birthday.  I don't want to tell them - because it just. isn't. the. same.

My birthday is in May and very often gets rolled into Mother's day and so it's kinda "shared" *if* it's remembered at all.  Other years my birthday was remembered by my beloved, with a weak "Happy Birthday honey, but it's the end of the month . . maybe we'll do something when we get some money."

I sound ridiculous to myself.

Yet - ther' be a plank there, no doubt.

It's more like a pool for me.  A self pity pool that draws my interest and just makes me want to dive in and swim around in it.

So - now to pull this sucker.

I will chose NOT to swim in that self-pity pool.  And if I get my toes wet, I will pull them out quick.  I will give thanks for what I have.

I know that I have friends that love me.  I know my husband loves me. I know this.  And if I want a birthday party - next year - I'm going to let people know.  Oh - and I'm going to set aside a sum for my sweet hubby to go get something, and I'll provide him a list to chose from!  And I'll give God the thanks for another year.

So be warned friends and family . . . May 29th. It will be a true "memorial weekend" if I can help it!

Jessie J - Price tag - Sign Language

What a fun video!

Two thumbs up! Parenting Wild Things

Listen up friends!

I am a researcher by nature.  For each stage of my life, I've got a book books for.  When dating I had the dating books, when engaged, when first married, when pregnant . . etc.  Hence I've got my favorites.

Allow me to share with you one of my favs now.

Parenting Wild Things
Embracing the Rumpus

(- got any 'wild things' yourself?)

It's an e-book . . that was new to me.  First e-book I read; but that is neither here nor there . . .

First off,  I love this author's style of writing.  It's a quick and easy read.  She is authentic, witty and sincere.
She says:

"So I know quite a bit about imperfection. My parenting has been riddled with it."

Ever since I found her blog I've read her posts nodding my head and feeling very comadre with her.  The book is the same way.

The first thing she tackles is a mommy's tendency to compare herself to other mothers by sharing her own experience:

"I stare at the computer screen, reading the blog of another mom and stew, yet again, in a pile of self-pity and loathing. “I’m nowhere near as patient as her”, I bemoan. If my Three Year Old destroyed something of mine, I’d be furious. I would react, I would yell, I would sigh, I would damage the heart of the little soul that has been entrusted to me. I read the accounts of these super moms and grow surer every day that I am a terrible mother and that I’ll never be anything different." 

I loved her idea of kids being like aliens:

"I’m sad to say that I have spent too much of the last 10 years treating my children like they are criminals with ill intentions; like they purposely make that mess, or break that thing, or blurt out that inappropriate comment, just to upset me. 

But the truth is, my children aren’t criminals and neither are yours (well, at least not yet).

They’re aliens."

This actually was my favorite chapter.  And then at the end of the chapters she throws in these "challenges" . . . a little goal you can aim for to put some of the ideas into practice.

To be honest, I didn't agree with everything, but I don't think that's necessary to be able to reap some real gems from her experience, from her book.

I think Jennifer Bowman is a gem, this book is a gem and to sum it up in one word: Enjoyable


You can get a copy for yourself here.


Do

Parenting Wild Things

Love Love Love!

The good (out of the bad and ugly) in Mexico

So, about 10 days ago I think I broke my foot.

But *WHO* wants to go to the doctor and pay for the visit and x-rays and more if all they are going to do is tell you to take ibuprofen and stay off it.

That I can tell myself.

Like I just did.

Anyway.  My mom is now with me, and my foot is still hurting, and she is -lovingly-persistantly- telling me I need to get it looked at.

I'm gonna let her sway me, and I'll tell you why - Mexico.

Mexico doesn't have the doctor, pharmacy, radiology, labs and so on all rolled up into one package - you visit a doctor then you go and visit a lab clinic and then you go to some pharmacy nearby . . .all separate from the other.  And on a bad day, I hate this.

But today it sounds just peachy because it means that I can just hobble myself down to the radiology clinic and get x-rays for myself (for about 35 dollars) and if my foot is badly broken *THEN* I'll take the x-rays to the doctor and see what he has to say about it.

Otherwise, I'm just taking myself home and downing some ibuprofen.  Thankyouverymuch.

UPDATE: went and got the x-rays, and yes, it's official, it's broken.  And I'm back to *less than in love* with Mexico because the doctor put a cast on my foot but I'd have to go somewhere else to find a boot for it.

Well, it's May.

I suppose I should catch everyone up since hubby got back from Honduras A MONTH AGO!

I had hardly any time to do anything, including facebook or blog time, but when he got home it just meant we were BOTH busy.

But I don't think I'm gonna finish it up today.  *sigh*

Maybe I can pencil blogger in . . . hmm . . some time in June?

*Whew*

Two weeks of hubby being gone to Honduras for 2 months and I'm POOPED!

Thank goodness my box of Jolt-caffinaded gum- just came in . . !!!

:-)

Shooting straight from the heart here -

My aunt tells me on the phone she's HAD IT!

She is not going to help my mother no mo!  Not checking her mail, not watching her house - NOTHING!

I'm not at all surprised.  I've felt that way several, several times.

And I'm kinda relieved that my aunt is expressing this . . .this . . . frustration.

Long I've been aware my mom is 'off'-or as I say it; has an undiagnosed mental illness- and it is a world of difference being related, to her, like being a sister or brother, and being this person's child.

World.Of.Difference.

Among my siblings we have concurred that one of the strongest reasons we have any relationship with my mom right now is because of the love and respect we've had for our aunts and uncles.  And I used to seek them out with questions and seeking answers and reasons - but more and more I found them asking me about mom.

And I understood that they didn't understand and that they still were running on an ideal relationship assumption - that blood is thicker than water.

*LIFE SPOILER ALERT*


Here's the deal folks - it's not.  And at times where for my, and my own family's good, I've had to be what would seem cruel with my mother - I would get frustrated that my extended family didn't always understand this - couldn't see it, couldn't support me.

Now finally - in my dear aunts desperations I'm seeing her come to a point - I hope - of understanding.

It's different is all -

The truth comes out.

Making the shopping list my son reminds me to get bacon. 


Then he says "I've got something to tell you mom, . . . it's a little disgusting . . . (comes to whisper in my ear) 


. . . bacon comes from PIGS

Being lavoed

I woke up to this on my fridge.

My daughter did it - she has a heart about that big ~

I love her for it.

Still, it is bittersweet for me - because it shows dyslexia -

I believe dyslexia is in my family, and that I have it, even if we've never been tested for it.

It comes from my mothers side.  For one thing - we ALL can't spell.  I'm not the only one that struggles with left and right, and I know there are some that will get lost in a Wal-Mart.

This link has great information about the symptoms of dyslexia if you're interested.

My daughter has some very marked symptoms.

True to my nature, I'm reading several books about and from dyslexic authors and one in particular calls himself, not dyslexic but a "creative learner" . . .

'tant that the truth!  So, where it pulls at my heat strings to see "love" and "you" spelled incorrectly - I LOVE LOVE LOVE that she uses the  letters as adornment. . .

as it so happens I was watching some past scenes of America's Next Top Model and find a scene where one of the girls struggles with her dyslexia  . . . which I posted below.

no privacy

 Being a mother of small kids I've lost the sense to close bathroom doors way before now . . . but this particular door just gives me more cause . . . We have a cool bathroom in our master bedroom - it's door is a sliding mirror door.  So when closed it looks like a closet - but the door sticks and is heavy to move.

I'm just making excuses for myself, I admit.

End result; I don't think there ever was a time our now 3year old wasn't able to come check on us at any time and just chat while we're doing our business . . . and we just don't care, as long as they don't.

I mean . . sometimes, I just would care for the sake of that poor nose . . .

Anyway - not remembering the particulars, I'm doing my business . . reading a magazine when said 3 yr old comes in wanting my attention for some particular thing . . .

"I'm busy now, I'll go when I'm done." I explain

This little negotiator gets reeeeeal close and looks me almost nose to nose - with his other hand on the flusher he flushes it without ever taking his eyes of mine and says

"You're all done now."

Digno y Santo (LSM); Michelle Pfingston.mp4

Cultural differences

I just read a most excellent post about our trips to the gas station in Mexico.  Click Here to read it.

Funny he didn't mention that you throw the toilet paper into a trash receptacle . . NEVER NEVER into the toilet.

So being so close to the boarder I have seen the DIRE consequences of this little cultural difference on both sides of the boarder.

On one side the visiter is backing up toilets and causing a whole butt load (pun intended) of problems for septic tanks everywhere . . .

On the other side visitors - at a loss of what to do with the toilet paper (looking round, looking round) if female will use the feminine hygiene disposal receptacle until that little bitty thing is overflowing and then just start throwing it down on the ground.

Because any self-respecting person KNOWS you DO NOT through toilet paper in the toilet!!!!  The lesser of two evils is to place it on the ground.  In consideration to the USA-ers, not wanting to back up their systems.

This is really bad news if it is a public toilet in a park.  And the poor thing doesn't have a feminine hygiene disposal receptacle to stanch the flow of used toilet paper to the ground . . .

eww

eww

eww!

Then the native USA-ers come in and *tsk*tsk* at those messy others . . . .

It really does look bad - doesn't it?

And then they bless your heart . . .

Trying to put my priorities into practice I started - at the beginning of the school year - to gather the kids up at 6:30 in the morning, sometimes piling them all on the couch or into our bed, to read the Bible.  They'd be barley awake if awake at all . . . with the two year old running around . . .

"OK!  Where are we?"  pause  "you awake, Andrew? . . . Can you hear me, Sarah? . . . Alex . . shhhh!  Be quiet . . we are going to read the Bible now."

The past couple of days the 2 year old grabs a small new testament and announces "I read Bible!  SHHHHH  BE QUIET eb'y body, I read Bible"  over and over . . . what funny little mirrors they are of us!  Ha ha.

Sometimes . . ok, OFTEN, I would just go on thinking that even if they WERE sleeping, their spirit is awake and can take it in.

Then yesterday I drove their father to the ER state side.  He's had a bad cough for two weeks that just kept getting worse and we were concerned it was pneumonia.  He checked in at the ER at about 3pm and was moved to a room about 10:30pm.  Finally about 11 I left and drove home.

It was a late when I arrived home.  I looked forward to sleeping in.

I blame the stressful day for my laps in thinking

. . . I mean really - WHAT WAS I THINKING?  I'm a MOTHER of SMALL CHILDREN and every mother knows that even when you're pulling teeth to get them up on the weekdays, come Saturday and everyone is UP AN AT 'EM at the crack of dawn.

First the 2 year old came buzzing around, I don't know what time it was, I didn't look.  Didn't have to . . I knew it was still Too Early, my headache told me so.  That and the grey skies.  But said two year old was in distress because he Couldn't Find his Bible (the little new testament) . . .

Soon the 5 year old comes crawling to my bed shortly followed by the 6 year old.

And then my 5 year old says "Why are you not reading the Bible to us?" . . .

and that blessed me to my core -

Because he WANTED to hear it - so I can assume he wasn't COMPLETELY asleep all those other mornings?

He LIKES to hear it?

Alright - so maybe I'll get up now, after all.

solo tu amor

It's time for a name change here!!!

I'm done with diapers - mostly -

The middle one still wets at night - but we are otherwise all done . . so I'm no longer "between" diapers . ..

Any thoughts on a name for this blog, then?

I'll have to think it over.

Meanwhile:

Because "No Bake" is my middle name . . .

Planning my boy's 5th birthday was a no brainer.

I *REALLY* like no-brainners.

He's all into soldiers, half his wardrobe is camouflage , and most of his toys follow suit.   Army theme then . . . 

So I googled images of army cakes to get an idea - and was thinking I would have to order something 

that whole "no bake" thing . . . you know

And I asked my boy to come over and choose which one'd he'd like.  I'm thinking a Jeep, or a Tank or something . . . but pictured was one simple chocolate cake with a bunch of toys on top . . .

And that was what he wanted.  The toys win the vote.

So I went to Costco - got one of their chocolate cakes with some pretty chocolate roses in the middle.

We got that home and I whacked those roses off - softened them in the microwave and made a road with them  . . . then sprinkled the rest of the cake with green sprinkles and had the kids line the cake with m&m . . .

and the boy and I topped it off with toys . . .

VOILA!

It turned out so well and was easy-peasy like I like it . .. .

We are happy people.

What is one to do?

Beware: I'm taking a different turn here on my blog.

If your interested in our ministry - I still am posting about our work with the deaf over on www.bajacompassion.blogspot.com

Anyway - so I ask, what is one to do when one's mother has an undiagnosed mental illness?  Hmm?

When said mother is not stupid by any degree . . . but rather in her own world?

Need to know where I'm coming from?  Then you need to read "The Glass Castle" and watch some episodes of Hoarders (paying special attention to the cases that has animals living in the house) and add to that the movie "Anywhere But Here" and you may have a small taste of what my life has been like.

Even then, your only going to get a sense of it.  Everyone's "crazy" is a different as a person's musical tastes.

My relationship with her comes from a place of obligation and compassion rather than a true feeling, or warm fuzzes.

So mother's day is kinda hard on me - I see all these "best mother in the world" type thing . . all the "you are so special to me" stuff . . .

it's just different for me . . . you know.

I have yet to see the card for mothers day that says "Thank you for birthing me."  but I'm sure I'm not the only one who could use one of those.

Ehem . . .

Hello there.

BAJA COMPASSION MINISTRIES GOT HELP!

And other good news going on . . but I need to type up a newsletter right now .. so I'll be back later . .

Promise!  In the mean time  - in our bible study with other missionary women it encouraged us to write a "psalm" of our own that played with words that started out with the same sound.  I chose "H" and here goes . . . penned by your's truly:

Hark! Heaven hears His heirs shout 

HOSANNAH in the HIGHEST!

He Healed His own!

Halleluja!

Like a hen to her young

so He Holds us in Hand.

Holy is He! 

My Help,

My Hero!

Hesitate not to hide in his hugs.

Happy - oh hear it! - Happy 

my heart is humbled, 

and in Him I find 

my Home.

Quotes from our Bible Studay.

I'm not going to be able to go to our ladies bible study this week so I want to put down some quotes that I like here;

" . . . one is pronounced blessed when God is present and involved in his [her] life."

"Trying to be our own God is exhausting."