It's okay because the horse was old anyway

I know that I'm probably beating a dead horse here but sometimes those horses need to be kicked.  Repeatedly.  So my high horse is about to become the one I'm going to beat.  Hmm. 

I just want to cry for everyone who walks into a movie without reading the book.  You are missing so much.  You are missing details and character flaws and insight into memories and feelings and fears.  You are missing out on the why. 

A movie can't show you into the heart of someone, the reason they feel alone or the thousand reasons they would die for those they love and what brought them to that point.  A movie can't let you peek into childhood memories or hopes for the future.  Or why people laughed when a cat hissed. 

Hubby:  People seem entirely too entertained by that.
Me:  Well, in the book, the cat, you see, oh never mind...

And not just this movie, all books that have been made into movies should be read first, because reading is awesome and oh yeah, reading is awesome. 

And still no matter how many times I have stated this fact I could not get hubby to read The Hunger Games. 

He's above such things.  He would rather read for betterment of his character.  Sheesh.  Fine.  Well, okay then, so I could probably hide really well after reading this series and I would never eat wild berries which could very well save my life so top that hubby, top that. 

I was able to get my older two to read them and that is awesome because it's really taxing to get Aliya to read anything.  Plus we have a lot of fun talking about the books together and discussing the reasons why she's upset about the choice to cast Josh Hutcherson as Peeta.  I don't see the problem, I thought he did a fantastic job, but she has always hated his acting and was very put out about it.   



Aliya, are we looking at the same actor??

Perhaps she was not impressed with Zathura or Bridge to Tarabithia.  Personally I thought Shark Boy and Lava Girl left way more to be desired yet Taylor Lautner ranks higher up on her list.  Whatever.  Who can know why twelve year olds think the way they do.  The point is she is reading! 

And I won't even get into how many times I said the phrase "But in the book..." or "Well they changed that..." or "Well I guess on here it looks stupid but in the book..." last night when I watched the fourth Twilight with hubby.  It was absolutely ridiculous.  Unfortunately they changed so much in those movies that I don't even think they are the same.  At all.  And now I feel you silently judging me for admitting that I have read them and watched the movies.  I hope I'm not destroying my credibility here. 

I feel the sudden need to inform you that I own the entire works of Shakespeare and have read almost all of them.  Whew! 

That was close. 

That note that went home about strep in the classroom? They weren't kidding.

I know my last few stories have been about my middle kid.  I swear I don't love him more than the others.  He's just been offering up more blog fodder.  I'll take it.

For those of you who don't know this particular offspring, he is crazy smart and has a wicked sense of humor.  His teachers adore him and most adults who are usually awkward around kids find him endearing and hilarious.  So when he's off it's easy to tell. 

The first clue was when he didn't want to go out to eat because "the restaurant is just so far away and I'll have to sit up the whole time".  I should have heard the warning bells, but instead I heard the I don't want to cook bells and we went out to eat.  Once we were there he was totally fine, even joking with the waiter and offering me bites of his food. 

The next day though hubby was texting me saying that he was in tears all day and being weird.  This is the kid who didn't cry when he broke his hand.  Sure enough his temp was 102 when I got home and lucky for me he was too weak to fight away the Motrin.

Here's where it gets fun.

Next morning:

Me:  Hey buddy, how ya feeling?

Dylan: Mom, do not go on that side of the bed.

Me:  *concerned slash grossed out face* Why?

Dylan:  I've been throwing up there all night.

Me:  *really grossed out face slash squinty eyes* um, why didn't you come get me?

Dylan:  It was like four in the morning, I didn't want to wake you.  *jumps up to puke over side of bed*

Aaaaaannnnnnddddd scene!   

I know what you're thinking.  I have the sweetest most thoughtful child ever!! 

No you may not have him.  You'll just have to be jealous.

If you liked it....then you shoulda locked it up

We used to live in a magical land where people don't always lock their doors and children roam free without fear of being stolen and sold into child slavery and garage doors could be left up all night and a simple "oops" would be uttered in the morning when it was discovered and nothing more. 

And then we moved to a slightly more culturally diverse area, away from the stepford wives and while this is comforting in some ways {my kids have friends of all races!} it's also a little frustrating in others.

So why do I think it's okay to lock my purse in the car? 

I have no idea. 

So I guess I shouldn't have been that surprised when I came out to take Aliya to school and found the window smashed and my purse taken.  But I was.  And I cried.

And to make matters worse, it was my in law's car that they are leaving at our house while they are in Russia.  Luckily the thieves didn't seems to want a very nice GPS or stereo, they have a preference for Prada purses.  Which is deceiving because it had a whole whopping four dollars cash in it.  Bet they had fun with that.

It's such a huge pain to have to cancel cards and reorder everything and never mind that I really, really liked my purse! 

So I just keep reminding myself that it was God's purse all along anyway, not mine, and that losers will be losers and all I can do is learn from my mistakes. 

I'm just bummed my migraine medicine was in there, I could really use it today.  Have you ever tried to get through to Compass bank?  They for sure don't live in they land of the stepford wives.

Check

I remember when my kids were really little and it felt like we practically lived at the pediatrician's office.

Now when we go it's for things like sports physicals and yearly check ups and to see if they still have the same stuffed animals and are playing the same movie.  They do and they are. 

Dylan recently had his eleven year old check up and I totally thought they would tell me that he was underweight.  So I was surprised when they said he was in the 50% for weight and 75% for height and not surprised at all when they said 115% for sarcasm.  He is brilliantly gifted in that area.  If I do say so myself.   

And when he had to get four shots I was prepared for battle until I remembered that I was with Dylan and little baby angels began to sing and aside from wanting pancakes for his "pain and suffering" after it was like a walk in the park on a sunny day. 

We even bonded over those pancakes, well him eating them me just smelling them, and laughing about the nurse telling us that she had to trap a twelve year old girl in the corner the day before for her shots and the girl bit the nurse on the boob. And all I could think was there but the grace of God go I because I don't think she's met my twelve year old nor does she know of her track record.  And oh my gosh you guys her boob!!  That could have been my daughter and thank goodness the kid that needed shots today was the one who thinks getting scars is cool will go to class and show off his band aids! 

But every kid has their thing.  For Dylan it's medicine.  It ends up coming down to getting a shot in his rear because swallow medicine?  Are you insane? 

Aliya and Daymon were not amused when they learned that he took the shots so well.  They're exact words were "whatever" and then they gave his bugs bunny band aids the evil eye. 

Look how far they've come from stripping naked and running around the office with cotton balls in their ears fighting over the one Highlights magazine that wasn't ripped to shreds. 

They grow up so fast. 

Breaker, breaker

When my dad recently retired, my parents moved to another state and aside from growing out his hair and thinking about getting an earring, he also wanted to get a "no stress" job for a bit "just to pay off a few things". 

Now the first question here is:  egg or chicken?  Did I get my wild side from him or is he inspired by me and after the earring a very large dragon tattoo is in his future?  I like to think that he gets it from me.  Although you may change your mind after reading the whole post. 

So when my mom said he was going to get a job for a like a year my first thought was. . .security guard at Wal-Mart.  Small town.  It fits. 

No.

My father became a trucker.  Yes, you read that correctly. 

At first I couldn't really put him in the same category as a trucker.  I apologize if you are in fact a person who drives an oversize vehicle for a living.  I mean no disrespect.  At least I don't now.  At first however my view of this particular profession was not necessarily held in the highest of regard. 

I viewed truckers as scary, bearded crazy people who kill hitch hikers and keep them in the tiny little closet in the back where they sleep.  And also deliver my cute tank tops to Target each week. 

But I have since then been schooled that no, they in fact do not do these kinds of things and my parents are having a blast seeing the country and spending tons of time together. 

And they were able to randomly come through AZ to pick up a load {check out my lingo!} and we were able to see them for a whole 24 hours!  It was a super fun surprise and the boys got to spend the night with my dad in the truck.  At the truck stop.  Where they did not die. 

Dylan did break the one rule my dad set which he swears he didn't hear him ever say.  He honked the horn.  Repeatedly.  Luckily my dad was really cool about it because he has turned into a giant teddy bear of a man. 

And there was no dead body in the little closet.  I checked. 

Why? I'll tell you

The greatest gift I have ever been given is forgiveness.

Not from any human.  At least not from any just human.

And when I think about this gift there are times when it almost takes my breath away.

Because He knows all the ugly, awful things I have done and not only does He love me, He has forgiven me.

And that is simply amazing.

I had to choose to accept His gift of forgiveness because it came at the highest price possible, His life, but my life has never been the same!

Changed from the inside out and scrubbed clean in the darkest of corners, I've been set free!

A captive slave no more.

And not even a bit deserving.

So when asked why this tattoo, because the insurmountable joy that swells in my heart just seeing the word spelled out so clearly on my skin makes me want to dance and sing praise to my King Jesus.  That is why.