The boy loves Slim Jim

My oldest son loves Slim Jims. LOVES them. He can be talked into doing just about anything with the Slim Jim as his reward. He expects one for any special occasion or even if your just making a quick trip to the local Dollar General down the street. I've tried my best to explain the lack of health benefits offered from the Slim Jim. I've showed him the contents of the Slim Jim. I've showed him the serving size of the Slim Jim. Doesn't matter. He still loves them. If you aren't mesmerized by all the gossip on the cover of the latest trash magazines, you have noticed at the checkout line, Slim Jims come in all shapes and sizes now. They have little 4 inch ones, 12 inch ones and if that wasn't already enough artery clogging goop, they have the mega stick. It's huge. Parents could use it to spank their children with this thing. But I am proud to say that I have only bought the mega stick once. And it was my husband's fault. He thought we were getting such a great deal, but somehow it doesn't sound like such a great deal when you see the calorie/fat/sodium content. Today I found myself getting the kids favorite candies for their Easter baskets. And I remembered the love Miles has for Slim Jims. So I decided I would get on his good side and stuff a 12 inch heart attack in his basket. And of course, it was his favorite thing in the whole basket. Later I was outside enjoying the warm sunshine when he came out and sat beside me with his Slim Jim and a Dr. Pepper (his two favorites). He was happy. So happy. After a minute or two of talking, I inserted into our conversation the fact that the 12 inch Slim Jim was not a one sitting snack but in fact it was more like a two sitting snack. I went on to ask him to please not eat the whole thing in this one sitting, it was the only thing that would remotely make me feel better about getting such a crappy snack. And without missing a beat he replied, "Don't worry, this is my second sitting, I was just sitting on the porch before coming out here with you". Shaking my head, and I can't help but smile. And then chuckle. At least I didn't buy the mega.

The Food Bowl

This morning Tess (my yorkie) was growling and barking at me like she always does when she wants something. I asked her what she wanted and she immediately took me to the laundry room and showed me her empty food bowl. She knows which bowl is for food and which bowl is for water. She will scratch the one she wants filled. I think it’s amazing. But don’t all dog owners or parents of children think that they have the most amazing pets or children? I opened the food bin and put just a tiny bit of food in the bowl. Then I looked at her with my eyebrows raised and very sternly but lovingly said, “that’s all you get fatty fatty two by four”. As I walked away I began to chuckle. #1 because I was calling my dog names. And #2 because well, I was talking to my dog, and calling her names. Then I was reminded of when I am thirsty or hungry, for God. I am so glad He doesn’t just give me a tiny bit, or ignore my pleas, or call me names. I am thankful that He fills me exactly when I need it, and He doesn’t just give me a tiny bit but He gives me more than enough, for that day, for that moment. It’s my job to come back to the food bowl everyday to eat and drink what He has for me. If I’m so busy running around doing stuff, even good stuff, and I don’t come to the laundry room and take time to eat then I get tired. I get hungry. I get cranky, very cranky. I don’t have anything to give to those in need, because I myself am in need. Take time to go to the laundry room today, tomorrow, and every day. This is where you will be filled with exactly what you need for that day. It might be love, forgiveness, patience, kindness, mercy, boldness – but whatever it is…eat, drink of His presence and goodness. I hope that one day I will be so full of Him that he sings to me, “fatty, fatty two by four, can’t get through the kitchen door”.

Seasons

Seasons or as some would refer to them as either being in the valley or on the mountain top. No matter what your age, race, or gender, we all go through seasons. Things are either really good, or really bad, or going in either direction quickly. We have seasons in our career, in marriage, raising children, or health. But I have found that it’s what I learn in a season that is important. I believe that God allows us to go through seasons in our life to grow. I believe that in every season there is something that we can learn, and then take that nugget of wisdom and use it for His kingdom to help someone else. How long you stay in a season depends on how long you take to listen and learn. Sometimes we have to learn from our mistakes. Sometimes we need to learn to forgive. Sometimes we need to learn how to suffer, and suffer well. I remember having little babies that completely relied on me. I remember sleepless nights, crying and whining, potty training, temper tantrums, food battles. But I also remember the sweetness of when a child wakes in the morning and the first thing they want is a long tight hug from mom. I remember making a decision to not focus on what needed to be done in the house or the laundry that needed to be washed and only focus on my baby. My baby who would only be little once. I thought everything always needed to be cleaned and organized, that things needed to be done before I could enjoy my time with my child. I was wrong. Instead God showed me how to be selfless. How to put others before me. How to love without expecting anything in return. How to stay the course and be strong & courageous even in the ‘terrible twos’. Growing children is about putting someone else’s needs before yours. It’s a season in life that reaps immeasurable benefits. My kids are older now and just spent a week with family out of town. I received a phone call one day from my sister in law. The kids had spent the night with her and she called first thing the next morning and her question was, “how did you do it?”. She went on to say that she had the best time having the kids over and she wanted to know what we did to raise such great kids. In that moment, I didn’t think about all the battles we had over trying new food. I didn’t think about the gazillion nights we had trying to keep my oldest in his bed. I didn’t think about the falling out, screaming over not getting a toy in the store. Instead my heart was full of joy that maybe we did something right along the way. We stayed consistent. It was a season, and we made it through. Marriage seasons have been written about before being compared to the seasons of weather. Spring, Summer, Winter, Fall. Everyone is in one season or transitioning into another. I remember early in our marriage feeling like we were in the Fall. We didn’t know how to communicate with each other. We both wanted the other to make the move and that meant that neither of us were moving. We slowly crept into Winter. I remember thinking that this was not the marriage I had dreamed about having. I wanted more. He wanted more. We began to talk about our differences. We worked on our marriage. There were hard times. Times of listening, not speaking. Times of dealing with past hurts. Times of letting go of unrealistic expectations. Learning how to speak each other’s love language. Seasons. Each season now meant growing together and learning more and more about the man I loved. We celebrate 21 years of marriage this week and it has completely, honestly, wholeheartedly been the best years of my life. But if we had never learned how to recognize and grow in our seasons, I would not have the best friend in my life that I get to enjoy waking up to everyday. Learn to embrace your season. I see it like riding a roller coaster. I’m sitting in the front seat, buckled up with my hair blowing and my hands straight in the air. I’m climbing high. The view is beautiful. I can see the greatness of life with God. I reach the top and immediately see how everything has been worth it. Then BAM!!! My smile is gone, my hair is a mess and I’m holding on for dear life as I begin the downward spiral that seems will never end. It’s bumpy and uncomfortable, dark and lonely. I can’t control it. But then I quickly am reminded that it’s just a ride. It is what you make of it. God is with me and He will never leave me. In every dark place, may you find God’s strength. In every mountaintop, may you be thankful and joyous and help someone in need. In every season may you find God’s will.

I'm still in my 30's...

It's getting close to my birthday. Every year my husband doesn't say a whole lot about the upcoming celebration. Usually because he is going to try and surprise me or he's planning to just take me away. I prefer the 'take me away'.
I don't like surprises. I never have. I might like TRUE surprises, but no one can ever really truly surprise me. I always figure it out. I can't help it. It just happens, you know in my brain, it figures everything out.

When I think about why I don't like surprises, it boils down to basically one thing. Someone somewhere planned this whole thing, probably by them self, worked for weeks, had to spend way to much time that they could have spent on something more productive than surprising me, had to deal with way to much stress on my account, is out way too much money, and who wants a big fuss and be the center of attention?

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE getting together with family and friends but not just when it's about me. I'm the person who gets the enjoyment out of planning the event for someone else. I like the behind the scenes work. I like to plan and execute a great shindig full of fun & surprises. So I have devised a plan for my upcoming day of birth celebration.

Of most my friends, I'm not in the 40's Club yet with them. I find ways to continually remind them when they are sharing with me their list of bodily decaying aspects that come with being over 40 that I wouldn't know what they are talking about because, "I'm STILL in my 30's". I enjoy being able to say that. I enjoy it ALOT! I like to rub it in actually.
So that sparked a thought a couple days ago.
I don't want a big gloom and doom, black headstones gothic kinda 40th birthday party next year. So to avoid that I decided that I would have a "I'm still in my 30's" Party. We could celebrate my youth one more year and I had found another way to rub it in...again.

I think it's a great idea. I get to plan my own birthday party. No one has to do anything but show up. And next year...I'll let my sweet hubby take me away.

"Wait a minute...You mean???!!!!"

The time has finally come.

Last week on the way home we were having a discussion about what Miles wanted for CHRISTmas. McKinley was in the back seat listening quietly. I knew in my gut what she was about to ask...

"Mom, is Santa real?"

I knew this day would come. I actually looked forward to it in a sense. Most occasions I don't look forward to ANY part of the kids getting older, but this one, I did.

You all know how hard it is to try and make a list, check it twice and then act like a crazy, mad man trying to find it, keep it hidden, put it together, wrap it, write the note, make the cookies, eat the cookies...you get the picture.

So when my youngest munchkin popped the question, I was quite quick to answer, "No sweetie". That simple.

"WHAT!!!???"

Ok, maybe I should have eased into that discussion a little softer and with the help of her father.

Mac has always had a very tender heart and a sweet little nook in the center of her big 'ol heart for the special things in life. Santa was a special thing. Every year she went through great lengths to write him a note, even when she was too little to write, she had me write her letter for her "exactly as I say". She baked cookies for Santa and always left a big glass of milk. Sometimes when we traveled for the Holidays she would leave a note saying where we were going to be on CHRSITmas Eve. We followed Santa on the Doppler Radar, made sure we put the fire out before bed so he wouldn't burn his booty coming down the chimney. We did it all, and then some.

There was the year that all she wanted for CHRISTmas was a picture of Santa Clause and Mrs. Clause and he delivered. Even autographed the pictures that he took just for her!! Then there was the year that the movie Polar Express came out. All she wanted that year was a bell from Santa's sleigh. (Have you tried to find a really BIG, nice, gold bell lately??!) But once again, Santa came through. She still has that bell...and the pictures....and all the notes Santa left for her every CHRISTmas morning.

So yes, maybe I should have taken a little more care to gently spill the beans.

"So, what are you saying Mom??!"

"Well sweetheart, you asked. I thought you would want to know the truth."

"Ok, so, what are you saying...wait a minute, are you saying, do you mean that YOU AND DAD ARE SANTA???!!!!!!!"

"Yes baby girl, we are."

"But what about all those letters? Did you write those?"

"Yes, every one."

"What about the cookies? Did you guys eat those?"

"Yep. Those were my teeth marks in the ones left on the plate for you to see."

"And the pictures?? Where did they come from? and WHO signed them?"

"Ms. Renee helped me on those."

"Ok. But what about the bell? That was special. It was from Santa's sleigh."

"I bought that too."

"You mean, YOU bought my DSI???!!!!"

"Yes. Your dad and I got that for you"

"And the WII???!!!"

"Yep. We had to stand in line for hours to get that game system that year."

Then there was a long pause.

"Am I going to have to pay you guys back for all that stuff???"

These are all great memories that we have made over the last 10 years. Memories and traditions that we will likely talk about for years to come and many of them that we will in fact still do. We will always make cookies CHRISTmas Eve, but maybe now we can keep the fire burning all night.

Keeping it real,

~A

Deep Observation

Most people spend their 20's trying to figure out what to do.
Then spend their 30's trying to figure out how to do what they wanted to do.
Then spend their 40's trying to figure out how to get out of what they thought they wanted to do but don't want to do anymore.
Pretty deep observation that I've made huh?

I've also figured out that the older I get the less I care about what people think. Time is too precious to waste on pleasing people, arguing about things that don't really matter in the big scope of things, and spending valuable time trying to change someone that only God can.
Let it go, move on.

And since I'm not any older than these...I can't tell you what will happen in the 50's, but I'm sure it's gonna be FUN!

3 Words

Every once in a while my sweet husband takes me on a date. I enjoy this. We don't do this as often as we would like.
The kids are old enough now that we don't have to pay a babysitter, just got to feed the little munchkins. Which can cost as much as the date itself. But you can't put a price on a little peace and quiet. RIGHT?
So when you see how needed the night is, how much planning goes into the event, you expect all your planning to lead to much needed adult conversation, calmness, quietness, and overall just a pleasant experience.
UNTILL...
A set of grandparents with an alien grandchild are seated less than 3 feet away. I immediately started looking for the hostess. Did I mention we were on a date? Did I mention we left 3 kids at home? Did I mention it has been waaaay too long for this night?
The night was filled with alien child crawling under multiple booths at one time. Making a mad dash to the kitchen, several trips to the bathroom, running and hiding from grandparents, throwing his food, crying, yelling, and finally Grandmother giving up and Grandfather threatening to take off his belt. (here, you can use mine)
Apparently these fine folks were babysitting so the parents could go out on a date too. Bless their hearts.
My husband made a great observation: Next time you want to do the parents a favor and babysit your alien grandchild, I have 3 words for you....CHUCK E CHEESE.

No Tears in Eight Years

It happens EVERY year. The week before school starts I have the same questions every year. I cry about the same thing. I call my sister in law EVERY YEAR and get the same pep talk! We talk on the phone everyday but this conversation is always her little 'pep talk' to me about letting go, AGAIN.

I HATE when school starts back. HATE IT, HATE IT, HATE IT! I'm not one of those parents who shops early. I refuse to shop on 'tax free weekend'. I don't have the kids backpacks ready. I don't do anything except try to cram in as much time together as possible.
I fight it till the bitter end.

As I lay in my big 'ol tub of water one night trying to relax after a long day, I kept sorting through all the mixed emotions I was having of school starting back once again. I felt the need for my yearly pep talk. Trying to use good judgment, I decided to wait till AFTER my bath to use my cellular device that could so easily be dropped in my vast of bubbles.
Beginning to reach the point of turning to a prune, I couldn't stop with the tears. What a relaxing bath this was turning out to be...
Then I came up with this novice idea: Why not pray now about all that I'm feeling (no fear of electrocution there huh?)...AND then I'll call my sister in law and she can pick up where God left off.
I had a plan.
But as I began to tell the Lord how I was feeling and my all worries about public school something happened.
My load started to become lighter. I was feeling a little fresh air and no, no one had barged in the door asking if I knew where all the black socks were, although that happens quite often. I swear the dryer is eating them.
I simply talked and then I made the statement: "I'm not going to call anyone. I'm not going to ask anyone. I'm not going to say a word to anyone. I'm going to wait for you to send me an answer and give me a peace about what to do."

What to do? That was the question every year. Home School vs. Public School.
I knew my kids would be dumber than dirt, but we would have fun.
I knew it would work SO much better with our schedules. No early mornings. Sleeping late. Shorter work days. We could still travel when we needed too. We could save some money not having to buy clothes, shoes, lunches, and we could have ALOT of fun. But the kids would still be dumb.
I admire home school moms. I do. And am a bit envious too. They seem to have so much energy and organization. Have all these creative juices that flow. And they get to see their kids ALL day and ALL night. Who wouldn't want that, Right??

As I leaned forward to pull the drain, thinking in my mind, "I wonder how long He's gonna make we wait for an answer", he immediately spoke to my heart.
And this is how He explained it to me...
Everyone can't have the same calling. If everyone that was salt on the earth were to home school, who then would reach the lost in our schools today? Children need to see other children make right choices. They need to see how to live out a Christian life. Teachers, coaches, other parents need to see the light on the earth. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. You are called to raise disciples that lead others. You will be rewarded with the family time that you seek. I would not forget you. And besides, you went to public school and you didn't turn out SO bad.

By this time I'm laying in an empty tub of washed out worries amazingly in shock. Then I ask myself why I'm shocked. I know the God I serve, so why was I so in awe of His kind and gentle thoughts towards me? Plus...I think some people would disagree with Him about me 'not turning out SO bad after all" :)

But that's how He rolls. In my time of questioning and searching for the same answers over and over, He spoke in 10 seconds what my sister in law has tried to accomplished in the last 7 years every August!! (Sorry Kim, I love you but you got trumped)

I got out of that bath a new person. (and quite shriveled up too)
I had a peace like never before. I was so excited. I felt like I didn't have to keep cramming to get time in with my family. I felt confident and assured that I was doing exactly what God called me to do.

I began to think about how everyone's calling was different. Even if you struggle with where you are in life, or you find yourself constantly comparing yourself to other people, we are all chosen. Chosen to fulfill our individual calling on earth. If everyone acted the same, talked the same, worked, studied, lived life the same, how could we ever reach all the different types of people in the world today?

For the previous 8 years of 'first days', I cried. I felt guilty. I took days and sometimes weeks to get over going back to school.
But this time was completely different.

We went on to have the BEST first day EVER in the Turney5 history. No tears. No guilt. Just family, fun, and freedom.

Take a Break...Miss a Day

Awards Day at school is one of those proud moments that you sit and watch with excitement and pride of all you and your child have endured for the last 180 days. It actually seems short lived compared to the multitude of hours & money spent on volcano projects, science fair projects, essays, solar systems built (which I still haven't gotten back some much needed kitchen utensils that was used to rig that out of space contraption), posters made from a 1 night notice, Indian teepees...you get the drift.
Honor Rolls for all 3 - which I am so proud of.
Outstanding Student of the Year for Miles - which speaks volumes of the man he is becoming.
Yes it was a proud day. THEN...they begin to hand out the awards to those kids who had perfect attendance.
Perfect Attendance. What exactly is perfect attendance? It means they were never late to school, never checked in, never checked out, and never missed a day, moment, breath...of school.
Now to an OCD person you strive for perfect attendance. You will at all costs attend no matter what. I myself had perfect attendance in high school. I liked it because it exempted me from exams, but who would dream of school being like it was back in the day? I remember waking up sick as a dog and my mom saying to me in her southern drag, "Amy, just stay home, it ain't gonna hurt you to miss a day". How many of your parents actually encouraged you to stay home? No, parents are dragging their kids to school kicking, screaming, fighting, coughing, throwing up, fever, - whatever it takes.
Now that I'm a recovering :) OCD person (notice I said RECOVERING), I willfully fight anything to be perfect. House cleaning, laundry, life, church, even school attendance. I figure we get 10 days to play hooky. What would my kids remember more about growing up - a certificate of paper, or 10 days of trips to the beach, sleeping late on a school day, taking trips, amusement parks, water parks, bowling, fishing or whatever we can come up with.
So we don't usually get recognized for that prestigious award on Awards Day, but we do get our awards on those fun days throughout the year.
So now you know how I feel about perfect attendance. And I know it looks good on a resume or college application but we're talking elementary and middle school here o.k.?
So I in all my wit and deficient ability to keep my mouth shut sometimes when I should, rather loudly with my "matter of fact type voice" proclaimed as those children stood proudly up in front of the multitude of us 'slackers' while their parents all went down and took pictures noted, "SO those are the kids that got all OUR kids sick this year, huh?"

I don't think Stacy will sit with me at Awards Day anymore. But everyone around me enjoyed it so much that I think I will have plenty of company at our next school function.

Take a break, miss a day
~A

A Child's Perspective On Kindness

Before school every morning we have a "hands in" prayer time. It's a tradition.
A couple weeks ago my sister was staying with the kids for us while we attended a conference. She decided that the 'hands in' prayer time could benefit even greater with a more applicable teaching time. So every day they had a different challenge to complete. Things like: find someone today that you can help, give someone a compliment today, do a good deed...etc.
My daughter is in the drama filled world of third grade. She often comes home telling us stories of how mean this one little girl can be. Or that this little girl has informed her that she is not her friend. Or even, "you can't be in our club". There is generally a story every afternoon, to the point that the boys now get in the car after school and ask, "what did (insert name) do to you today?".
As a mom it's hard to see your child upset. I have refrained from giving too much advice because I wanted to see her put into action the things that we have talked about and how to handle certain situations. We have prayed for (insert name). We have talked about what her home life could be like and that could be a reason why she acts the way she does sometimes.
Now it was my sister who was having to hear the stories of this girl's meanness. So she decides to teach my daughter about kindness. "Be nice to her", "say something kind to her", "You have to kill her with kindness" she would instruct her every day.

A few days ago after picking up the kids I could tell my daughter obviously had something on her mind. You could sense the heaviness she was feeling. She seemed at the end of her rope. She finally says to me, "Mom, Sherry says that I should kill (insert name) with kindness", and there was a long silence..."Yes, that would be nice", I replied. And with much seriousness & thought she replies back, "I'm gonna get a baseball bat and write KINDNESS on it, and hit (insert name) with it".
I found that it was best to just pull over since I couldn't see past the tears of laughter how to drive.
Where on earth do they get this stuff? I have no idea...

Acting My Age

I consider myself somewhere in the ballpark of mid 20's when it comes to having fun. I like to have fun, be adventurous & spontaneous. It's one thing that my kids love about me. Rarely do they attempt something that I'm not 2nd in line. Now I'm not reckless or dangerous but I have been known to break a few rules but...who hasn't, right?
But this weekend my body sat me down for a nice long talk. Actually we are STILL sitting, or I should say laying.
I was the one 2 years ago that HAD to talk the husband into getting the kids a trampoline. After all it was going to have a net around it and we would abide by all the rules. It would get the kids outside and be a fun source of exercise. We would have so much fun. I explained how careful we would be. How we would take turns, only jump one at a time. He finally gave in.
The hours they have spent jumping and playing are too numerous to count. The gallons of water they have used spraying each other while jumping are enough to fill a small pond. It has been moved countless times so to be in the shade throughout the day. Many times I praised my great idea and worthwhile investment. Needless to say we have gotten great enjoyment from our trampoline.
It has shown much wear & tear over the span of 2 years, including a ripped net, something that we have said over and over that needed to be replaced.
It was Sunday night that the kids & I were jumping and began to chant relentlessly for Dad to come join us...."Daaddy, Daaddy, Daaddy".
We hadn't been on long before the game began and I was tagged "it". I made my way bouncing around trying to choose my victim. Laughter filled the night air. I was usually the brunt of the jokes for my lack of graceful poise in mid air. I set my sights on Miles. I made a high bounce toward him. As I came back up I found that my legs didn't quite have enough room to get underneath me and it began. It was what felt like hours but happened in seconds. I started stumbling backwards, grasping for anything I could grab onto to stop my spiraling fall that felt like would never end. Then there was the moment that I knew... The moment I knew that I was going to regret letting my silly husband ever talk me into getting such a dangerous, ill made,
reckless, stupid piece of junk ever made.
Then I awoke on the ground surrounded by people who claimed were my family , hearing shrills of agony I'm sure have never been uttered only to realize they were coming from me. I lay there in the grass and dirt, fully prepared to stay there for the next 6 days. I tried to be brave for the children. I tried. Then the husband thought it was time I was moved to the house. We scurried around and unearthed what was the left side of my lower back and managed to get me in the house which involved being carried like a sack of fertilizer out of the local farmers market.
It was a long night...a very long night. Truth be told it's been a long few days, but I am getting better.
I've learned a few things in this whole ordeal.
1. Don't tell anyone how you got hurt. They WILL laugh. They WILL make jokes. They WILL make comments about your age.
2. GET A NET!
and lastly....
3. When you are in pain...you could care less if the hospital gown opens in the front or the back!

Keeping my two feet planted on the ground for awhile,
~A

There's no place like HOME~

We have a CHRISTmas tree tradition that every year I buy a new ornament or two for each of us that has some memory of an event or activity or accomplishment for that year. As you can imagine with 5 people it has grown rather large.
I love to see the anticipation from the kids as they each are given their ornament. Tonight we followed in our tradition as it seemed that CHRISTmas had come early by the kids excitment when they found out that I did indeed already have their ornaments for this year.
Each one was carefully wrapped & passed out. We each took turns opening our ornaments beginning with the youngest. Each ornament was met with surprise and discussion about the stories & events behind each one. Perhaps my favorite this year was our Family Ornament. I try to find one ornament that represents something significant for our family that year. Past ornaments have included a skiing Santa, a new school and my favorite a new church. But this years ornament was simple to decide on.
We each carefully unwrapped the layers of paper to finally discover a beautiful home. Indeed this is the year of having our first real home as a family. A place to call our own. A place to raise our family in. A place that protects & shelters. A place to dream in. A place to laugh in. A place to share with friends. A place to host our families. A place of rest.
My hope for you is that your home, whether new or old, large or small, owned or rented is a place that comforts you, draws you close, and provides a place where life long memories are created.

There's no place like home,
~A

Thanksgiving - things I love

I love Thanksgiving. I look forward to when my kids get married with children and come home for Turkey Day. It could quite possibly be my favorite holiday.
Things I love & have learned about Thanksgiving:
~ I love the cooking. (not so much the cleaning)
~ Love all the new recipes, and all the old favorites.
~ I know that we need a deep fryer so I can have fried turkey more than once a year.
~ I also have learned that to recreate Ireta's famous green beans, I need a pressure cooker. Seriously, I am scared to death of those things and the noise they make, so guess I will just have to stick with the safer version that doesn't stand a chance of blowing up in my kitchen.
~ I love spending time with family. Especially when it's not rushed and when I know the majority of them.
~ I love the football that comes with the holiday.
~ I know that I would love the shopping, just have never experienced it. Our family has one of our dinners on Black Friday, so it's also a cheap holiday for us.

I guess I could sit and think of tons and tons of things that I love about Thanksgiving, but it seems the older I get the more the real meaning of the holiday seems to surface.
It isn't a holiday filled with boxes of candy or dozens of roses. It isn't a holiday filled with baskets of eggs or fingers stained with dye. It isn't about fireworks or kids knocking on doors begging for candy. It isn't about presents & gift wrapping, or lights that won't glow.
To me Thanksgiving is time to reflect all the blessings I have. To think of His goodness & mercy He's shown. I think about giving thanks to the One who gave His all.

I will give thanks
~A

Time...

Looking back at my blog tonight I realized a few things:
1. It's been a year! WHAT?! How on earth has a year past since my last post? How did this happen? I know in my mind I've posted thousands of entries, I guess they just never made it to the page. I also started a journal/memory/book thingy on my computer. I have always wanted to keep a journal for my kids to read when they get older. I also wanted somewhere to write down my thoughts in areas that I am struggling through and things that helped me get through them. I figure once I've been through the fire...might as well help someone else when they pass through. So that has taken some time and energy away from my blog too.
2. My last post was about working out, training, Zumba, gym - gosh, I'm tired just thinking about all that!
I realized that it has now been a year since my feet started hurting. Ouch :( I started working out and exercising to feel better because we all know that everyone says, "if you want to feel better you need to exercise". BahHumBug!
I have had such enormous pain at times since working out that sometimes I could barely walk. I went to doctors, got injections, stretched muscles, therapy, you name it. One guy even said, "just don't do what you did when they started hurting". REALLY, You think?
I do realize that exercise is good. Just not for my heels. So would anyone like to tell me what cardio exercise doesn't involve moving your heels?
3. I realize that my kids are getting older, and I don't like it! What the cuss?! Where has time gone? As much as I would love to spend more time blogging, if given the choice between that and spending time with my kids...yep, you guessed it. Another reason why it's been a year. But as with most all my posts, they are written in the wee hours of the night after the "tuck-ins and good night kisses".
4. I realize that I have just a little more knowledge of being the woman of God, wife, mother, pastor's wife, daughter, sister, & friend that I am called to be. For me to gain knowledge is for me to find treasure.

Maybe I will do better this time around. But if not, you'll know that I'm enjoying the ride~

Everybody is doing it...

Everybody is doing it...You should try it...You'll love it!!! I want to be there when you do!!!

What on earth am I talking about? The latest craze in fitness of course, ZUMBA!
Now, I have been going to the gym for about a year now. Worked out with a personal trainer for 3 months. For the last 2 months I attended a "Boot Camp" workout, which is like having a personal trainer, but sharing him with 5 other people and it's cheaper. So naturally, when I get bored I look for something new.

All my 'young' friends have been talking about zumba non stop. They love it. They keep encouraging me to go. And always say, "now when you go for the first time, let
me know, I want to be there". That should have been my clue. :)

I went to my first class tonight. I felt like I was Baby from Dirty Dancing, the night she carried 'a watermelon', except Baby only made a fool of herself in front of maybe 20 people...I had the honor of humiliating myself in front of 200!!
There were people of every age, color and kind together. For one solid hour we all danced like tribal people during mating season.
I did break a sweat but nothing like "boot camp", but I never once looked to see how much time was left in the class.

I came home tonight and showed my husband a 3 second show of what class was like. By the look on his face, my fears of making a fool of myself were confirmed. Maybe next time I'll just carry a watermelon.