Fearful and Fanciful Mind

I just got back from running again. My oldest has been begging me to take him so this time I did. He didn't make it past a few blocks and said that he would have to walk the rest of the way. I told him to just go down a block and make a right and go home. The kid is nine years old, I don't know why I did this, but I was really reluctant to let him go. I did though and I saw him jogging off in the opposite direction. I immediately had thoughts of someone shooting him before he got to the front door or some car hitting him (they do speed down the street!). Before I knew it I heard sirens and it seemed like they never faded but just stopped eventually. I was far gone in my thoughts, thinking of a funeral, what I would say, how my husband would react, how empty the world would be, without my oldest. By the end of my run I was almost sobbing and when I realized this I saw how ridiculous I am! How utterly ridiculous! I always leave something and come back thinking that a doom bomb is going to hit.

When I lived in my house in Idaho we lived on a corner lot. If I went shopping and I had to drive by my house I would always look at it to make sure it was not "burning down". For years whenever I would leave the house I would tell my husband that if I never made it back home that I loved him.

Whenever I drive to D.C. now (or anywhere far and somewhat dangerous) I think, "this could be it! This could be my day!"

I suppose I have a fearful and fanciful mind.

At any rate, I was relieved to see my boy's shoes thrown on the entry way floor (I am never happy to see that, but I was thinking he could be dead!)---and I guess like Nemo's dad I need to "lighten up." Good grief.



I knew that if I looked through some of C.S. Lewis' writings I would find that his thoughts on pride were similar to mine (or maybe mine are similar to his! Let me not kid myself! Ha ha!). Read what he says, this is worth your while:

"According to Christian teachers, the essential vice, the utmost evil, is Pride. Unchastity, anger greed, drunkeness, and all that, are mere fleabites in comparison: it was through Pride that the devil became the devil: Pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind...."

It keeps getting so good and making me even more uncomfortable as I read! I love it!
Look at this and chew on it:

"If you want to find out how proud you are, the easiest way is to ask yourself, 'How much do I dislike it when other people snub me, or refuse to take any notice of me, or shove their oar in, or patronize me, or show off?' the point is that each person's pride is in competition with everyone else's pride. It is because I wanted to be the big noise at the party that I am so annoyed at someone else being the big noise. Two of a trade never agree. Now what you want is clear is that Pride is essentially competitive--is competitive by its very nature--while the other vices are competitive only, so to speak, by accident. Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man. We say that people are proud of being rich, or clever, or good-looking, but they are not. They are proud of being richer, or cleverer, or better-looking than others. If everyone else became equally rich, or clever, or good-looking, there would be nothing to be proud about. It is the comparison that makes you proud: the pleasure of being above the rest. Once the element of competition has gone, pride has gone. That is why I say that Pride is essentially competitive in a way other vices are not. The sexual impulse may drive two men into competition if they both want the same girl. But that is only by accident; they might just as likely have wanted two different kind of girls. But a proud man will take your girl from you, not because he wants her, but just to prove to himself that he is a better man than you. Greed may drive men into competition if there is not enough to go round; but the proud man, even when he has got more than he can possibly want, will try to get still more just to assert his power. Nearly all those evils in the world which people put down to greed or selfishness are really far more the result of pride..."



I don't really want to debate about this, I just wonder what opinions are. I think that behind every "type" of sin (hatred, fear, worry, doubt,lying, etc.) self-love (or what I call pride) is behind it all. I tend to think it all springs from "I think I am the center of the universe, don't cross me," type thing. I think we were born in sin thinking this way (those of you with children, look at them, it is evident).

For example, if I lie to someone and tell them that my hair is my natural color, I have the motive of wanting people to think I am what I view as perfect. It boosts my ego, pets my pride. That is a silly example, but it is true. I think as small and minute it gets (the sin) the more it points to the self love that is behind it all.

Look at Satan.

Look at Eve who, at the prospect of being like God if she ate the fruit disobeyed. Disobedience springs from self-love. "Don't tell me what to do, I know better!"

Whenever I say this to someone (and I have not said it much) they always seem surprised. What is so radical about that? Mindi, I know you have a ton of wisdom on this! Take it on! :)


Let's Get in "Tune" With our Emotions!

I was watching a tiny snippet yesterday of a woman teacher on TBN (I can't remember who she was but she seemed nice enough and had a Southern accent---blonde. I think I have seen her on other shows with a husband talking about marriage)who was pretty much telling a man audience that women need stability from them. She started to make an analogy of "you could bring your wife into a brand new mansion of her dreams and I guarantee you the first few days she is going to cry. I know you would think, 'I provided all this stuff for you, even the mansion of your dreams and you are upset!' I tell you, don't be upset at her, she just needs you to put her arms around her and assure her that this will take adjustments and she will need to support you at this time...women are like this."

Umm, spoiled women are like this. Going to cry over moving into a huge mansion? I would cry over the idea of cleaning the whole thing myself every Wednesday, that is what I would cry about!---Not over moving into a mansion and I "just can't cope with the change of it." I think real women are adaptable women, not a bunch of whinny, sobby, over-emotional wrecks that cry over an overload of riches. That is ridiculous.
Where is God in this story?
Cry for the many homeless people in this world that would take a few feet of the floor of your mansion to live on!

Lots of venom, I know, sorry.



The kids were watching a television show. Some commercial was on where some guy's voice was beckoning my children to watch "Sabrina the Teenage Witch". Of course, this is a show that they can not watch, so as this guy was saying stuff like, "Don't miss out on Sabrina! She is wily and wonderful! Give her a chance and watch her at three!" or something like that, the kids started to talk back to the guy and say, "No, that's a bad show! We can't watch it!" --- my oldest.
My daughter says, "No way!" or something like that,
and my middle child says, (this is crude)"No! Are you crazy? I can't watch it! I go poop at that time!"

Typical male?

Thanksgiving Afterthoughts

This morning I decided to *not* pull out the books and let the kids have another day off of school (I know, I am strict). While at breakfast the kids were discussing yesterday, Thanksgiving. I can't even remember what my oldest said. Something about the food, I think. Perhaps the turkey and how he loved it and how he loved drinking pop all day. I think that sounds right. My youngest (the girl) said that she loved her new friend Joannella (who came to eat with us) because she is so beautiful and she plays dolls so well, etc. etc. My middle boy said, "I really liked Thanksgiving. I liked it 87%." He can't give me a straight answer why it is exactly 87%, he just says stuff like, well, it is almost 90.

I had put out almonds in a dish among other snacks and appetizers. I think he ate the whole dish. He did not know he liked almonds at first, he just kept eating them. He told me after the first few that he only liked almonds about 45%. I said, "you hate them that much?" He says, "No, I love them 45%. That's a lot." OK. Later that evening I saw him sneak another almond in his mouth and I said, "Really liking those almonds, eh?"
"Yes, Mom. I think I love them 95%. I hated them a little at first, but now I love them a lot!"

His percents in the positive are "love it" and his percents in the negative are "hate it" So if he loved Thanksgiving 87% that would mean he hated it 13%. I wonder what he hated?



This Thanksgiving turned out well, I thought. It is the first time in seven years that I have been able to sit next to my husband while eating a Thanksgiving dinner, and I am thankful for that. I have the greatest husband alive. His past job required him to work 12 hour shifts holiday or no holiday so I often spent Christmas or Thanksgiving (always) without him. I am glad he was present during the Thanksgiving where I made the whole meal (which I have never done before and have always wanted to). It was really fun and everything turned out great(except for the gravy--but thankfully, I did not need gravy because the turkey was not dry!!), so I am thankful for that as well. I think it was an overall good time with friends from church. I am so happy that we were able to spend this time with them. It was probably boring, but my husband and I are pretty low key. Mr. Wilhelm did say when they left, "In retrospect, I think we should have played games or something." I laughed and said, "what? scrabble? We have no games! I was just happy with good conversation." And that we had.


Thoughtful Entry

Here is a great blog entry by a friend from church. The thoughts seem to be based a lot on this past week's sermon by our pastor, Dan Claire, which is great because I totally missed the whole thing. I was downstairs with the kids (which I absolutely adored doing---I never knew how much I missed it!). Give it a read if you haven't already.

Little Teacher

My oldest son (who is nine) is quite a Christian. Everything is plainly black and white to him. A few days ago, as is his custom, he pulled out his Mayo Medical Manual for a little light reading at breakfast. As I was putting the bread in the toaster I said, "Hey, what are you reading about in there?"

"Oh, well, I am really interested in suicide. It tells a lot about it in here. It says that a person is usually full of grief...then it says there is really no cure for grief..but that is silly...these people should just pray to Jesus! He is the cure, Right Mom?!"

"You are absolutely right," I said.

"Yeah, Mom. I don't get how these people don't know this stuff. These people that wrote this must not believe in Jesus!" He shakes his head shamefully.

When I told my husband this he had to laugh. He is the one who stated later that he thinks so black and white. He really does. He then told me that every Sunday at church during any time of the service he is wiping away tears (sometimes several times a service). Mr. Wilhelm has asked what he is crying about and he says that he doesn't really know, he just cries.

I have a lot to learn from my son. I can be icy, unfeeling and unmoved when the Spirit is present. Sure, there are many times when I am moved to tears during a service, but this child proves to me that a child-like faith is better than mine. I am sure our Lord delights in children who believe in Him. Everyone knows it says that we must become like little children. I am my son's teacher in so many ways but definitely in this way he is mine.


Austen Fan Bliss

My results from the quiz:

The Mansfield Park type: Another under-represented
and misunderstood type, these people are
serious-minded and not afraid to stand up for
their principles. They admire others who do the
same. Possessing a bit of a protective streak,
they are ever-ready to defend their
unfortunately oft-abused heroine, and have
inexplicably never had the urge to hit Edmund
over the head with a 2 x 4 (okay, maybe that's
just me...:-D).

Jane Austen novel quiz
brought to you by Quizilla

Running in the Rain

I just got back from what else but running in the rain. I have only done this a few times. I love the rain, I absolutely love it. I got pretty drenched, but it was worth it. A good run too. I am getting better at those hills.

The rain always makes me think of my husband who is fond of it as well. I remember before I dated him I saw him enter a house (I was inside the house) with a raincoat on. When someone commented on the "nasty weather" he said that he loved the rain. In my boldness (as some friends would say) I said (really without thinking) "Oh man, you are scoring points!"

Rain brings us all together. I can feel the love. Right on.


Pride and Prejudice

Two friends of mine from church accompanied me to see Pride and Prejudice last night. We were late because it was impossible to find a parking space---it took us 20 minutes. I can't believe the amount of people that go to the movies in Fairfax. It was a Friday night, but it is sad how many people live for the weekend. I think it is kind of a sad existence.

Anyway, we came in late, but that didn't matter much to me, I know the story fairly well, so it didn't effect me much. My friends and I all had to sit in seperate seats (none together) so that was the first time I have ever sat alone in a theatre. It was quite funny because I was really in front and I spotted two seats and went down the aisle (saying "excuse me, excuse me") and finally I get to the seats and these young people are just making out like crazy. The lady two seats down said, "they have been doing that ever since the movie started and it is so gross!" I think they heard her, but they kept going. They had some of their stuff on one of the seats I wanted to snatch, so I tapped the guy on the shoulder (he was closest to me) and with a "smack" he was like, "huh?" and I said, "is this seat taken?"
"Uhhh, no."
"Thank you."
The really embarrassing thing is that the lady two seats down (I ended up sitting next to her and my friends found other seats not knowing what I was doing) kept talking about it and congratulating me on my boldness. The people could hear her, I am sure. I wanted to smack her. She kept making noises and commenting on the movie like a regular spectator THE WHOLE TIME. She squealed when squealing could be called for (I guess) and made grunts and noises of disapproval for characters she disdained, and she was over all annoying. I am darned tooting sure that if there was something sad that happened she would be a bawling mess. I am sure she would have wiped her nose on me too.

So, the movie was good, I thought. Like a friend said, it was full of sexual tension and focused much on Mr. Darcy. I particularly liked the scene where Mr. Darcy proposes to Elizabeth in the rain. I know that is not how it happens, but it was just better. My friend Catherine who went with me said that the movie had a big splash of Bronte in it, which I thought a very notable comment. I agree. I think that is why I really liked it. I thought the cinematography was really great---although I really did not like a mistake I saw in the film---when Elizabeth was dancing with Mr. Darcy I could see Keira Knightly's earpiece (so she can hear her lines in a commotion or something). She looked like she had a growth in her ear, and I totally missed most of that dialogue looking at her ear in disgust.
I thought it was good, yes. A little too cheesy/romantic at the end, but no one dies in every movie, right? Elizabeth is not about to throw herself in a weir or anything. I would be dreaming and Jane Austen would roll over in her grave.


I am really sickened. I went to go buy Coldplay tickets two hours after the sale (on accident) and now all they have left are nosebleed seats for 56 dollars a piece. I prefer not to see Chris Martin as a speck in the distance. I may as well dim the lights at home and just play the cd. I am spoiled though because the last tour I got fourth row seats and now that Coldplay is so huge it is like trying to get a good ticket at a U2 concert. Impossible.
The really frustrating thing is that we are members of their website and for both visits to our area they never "randomly selected" us for a presale that they have for the fans. If we were randomly selected, it would cost us $80 anyway (a piece) which is nuts.
Anyone who has tickets to give away for free post away. I would be your friend forever.



Well, I am going to go see Pride and Prejudice tonight with a friend from church. I actually enjoy this story by Austen and maybe Persuasion (and a few others were ok) but I am not a crazy Austen fan. I think she is too flighty, a bit too petty, and somewhat snobby. I tried reading Emma this past spring and I just could not finish it. I thought Emma was so snobbish that I was not interested in her at all. I still have not seen the movie and I am sure I am missing out.

I was talking to a friend the other night and we were discussing literature. She was confessing to me that she is not an Austen fan either and she loves Bronte and Dostoyevsky.I do think the divide is there with Austen fans and non-Austen fans. I am right there. I have read some Bronte (I enjoyed Jane Eyre and Vilette and Wuthering Heights by Emily) and I have read a few things by Dostoyevsky, and I love him as well. I love the dark side of literature---I think the side that makes you think a little more. I don't see a lot of literary symbols in Austen, just a sort of romantic fluff. But perhaps I am wrong. My pet author is Hardy, so if any of you know of Thomas Hardy you will know why I am not too keen on Austen. I can't even begin to describe Hardy to you if you have never read him. He is full of irony, tragedy, and nothing ever goes right. He is a bit hard to read at first (he is noted as the "King of Description") but I find his descriptions so full of all those things you have tried to say but have never had the words. The Return of the Native is my favorite novel by this man. I went through a period (a number of years ago) when I just wanted to read his stuff and I read all the novels. I am just finishing up all the short stories now.

I think the best thing I like about Hardy is the fact that he knew women. He loved women and he knew them. He depicted them perfectly. When I read about Eustacia Vye (from ROTN) I saw myself. I think that is what good literature is---it is real, not fake. An author who has the ability to express things correctly to an audience obviously outside himself is a gifted person. I think Hardy is that man. A true artist. But that is my opinion.

So all you rabid Austen fans don't bite me. Just accept me, ok, I am really a nice person.


One of a Kind Kiddie Game

I just caught my two boys playing what they call, "The Not Sinning Game" in which one does horrible things (like hitting, kicking, name calling) to the other and the other has to react in a non-sinful manner. I thought, well, that is funny.

I found my oldest pounding on my youngest boys' arm while my youngest boy just smiled and tried to think of something hilarious to do to "lose on purpose" because that is "more fun."

What kind of game is that?

We also bit the bullet and got cable installed today (to my sadness) but Thanksgiving is not the same when you can barely see the football players on the t.v. screen, now is it? I would rather watch a Twilight Zone marathon. Not that that is bad.

So, my oldest son is visibly happy that we have cable now. He was sitting at the school table this morning as the cable guy was installing and he said, "You know Mom, it's nice that we are getting cable, but I really am happy with the way our old TV was too!" He does this. He always wants to prove to me that he is happy with what he has. At the moment he is watching Tom and Jerry and laughing his rear end off.

Ugh. I hate TV. Gotta go run up those incredible hills for a spell!

Popcorn and Prejudice

The other night I was exhausted. My husband sits down next to me on our bed (we were both reading---does his laptop count?) and he talks about how horribly he made popcorn the night before. I was gone, so I couldn't make it for him. "Oh, man, Rachel, it was awful. It was the most awful popcorn I have ever had!"

I said, "I get the hint. You want me to make you some popcorn."

"Well, you do make it the best. I can't go back."

Oh brother.

I have posted about this already. It really is a recurring thing with us though. I don't mind at all making the popcorn, but he is using his Minnesotan parents' tricks (they used to claim he made popcorn the best when he was a kid----apparently not, because I do, eh?) to get me downstairs cranking the whirly pop or plugging in the popper.

It works every time too.

I waltzed down there and made it thinking all the while, "I make the best popcorn!"

Come on over sometime, you guys, and have the best popcorn of your life at my house. Mr. Wilhelm swears by it.
Really, it's not that good.


Horrid Metal

Jewelry freaks me out. I hate metal on my skin. Or any ornament, for that matter. I tolerate my wedding ring (I had a hard time at first, but now I am used to it), but other than that I hate jewelry.

Someone sent a list to me a few weeks ago talking about how great it is to be a woman and how we don't regret all these things. One of the things was piercing the ears. I regret that. Only because now I just have little dimples in my ears and not actual holes. I don't want holes anyway. I would rather they closed up totally.

Before Mr. Wilhelm and I got engaged we went to a jewelry store to look at diamond engagement rings. I warned the man that I did not care for one, but he thought I was just being nice and cheap or something. I don't think he had a clue how much those things cost anyway. I stood there looking at a bunch of clear rocks totally uninterested and baffled at the price. I would have to pay thousands of dollars to put something detestible on my skin! No way! I imagined turning over in bed one night getting the rock stuck in my nose. Even worse. I begged him to be rid of the idea that I wanted a diamond ring and told him to just get me a band if he ever knew what was right for him. I thought it funny though when I did get engaged (I have two bands---one wedding, one engagement) how people would ask to "see" my ring and I would show them my band just as happy as anyone else.

So, my daughter is hanging out with her Aunt and her Aunt gets all generous and gives her all this jewelry and stuff. While my daughter is in metal heaven, I am in metal hell. Imagine how I have to pick this stuff up. It literally makes me want to throw up, I am that weird about it. I am not picking it up anymore. If I have to I will vacuum the stuff up.

So, we will not get on the subject of coinage. All of you who know me, just don't mention this stuff when I am eating. Really disturbing.


Groceries and "Black Powdery Stuff"

I have gotten started late this morning. I had a ton of email. The kids are still upstairs playing or something, I am sure they are not sleeping. My oldest complained yesterday that he has "black stuff" in his throat and it feels "powdery". He further said, "I think I have a sore throat." I said, "Well, we don't have to do math, but you have to do your other subjects."
He said, "I thought you would say that."

He later said, "I think I am feeling a little better and I want to go on break outside."
"Really?" I asked, "Then I suppose that we could work on your math lesson after break, eh?"
"Well, I am still feeling a bit powdery in my throat."
"That's what I thought."
So, we just sat around inside (big shock) and did a bunch of nothing. I didn't. I cleaned my house and did all the usual. There is always bucketfuls of laundry to do.

Today, however, is grocery day. You know the routine. It consists of my trying to purchase a great number of food items while trying to keep my children next to me. It also consists of trying to convince other people that these children that I am so desperately trying to keep beside me are MINE. Ugh. Here we go again. Maybe we will have yet another amusing story tomorrow.

So, I am not sure if I will school today or not. I have not seen the black powdery pirate yet. I know, it is late in the morning too. It will be a crazy day, I tell you, a crazy day.


Bit on the Bottom

One night my youngest boy asks me in the car (I think it was the same night we went out to dinner), "Mom, do you hate taking care of us?"

"No," I said, "I love taking care of you, but sometimes I am selfish and want my own way and then I get upset and then I act like I hate taking care of you. Why do you ask that?"

"Oh, just sometimes you yell and stuff."

"Yeah, well that is when I am being sinful and selfish."

"Oh, ok."

A couple days pass.

Heaven forbid I feed my youngest daughter FOOD. She is wimpering and whining, the usual. Does not want to eat. I can't even remember what it was. She starts saying stuff and then starts to cry. She says, "Mom, you're being so mean to me!"

"Why? Because I want you to be healthy and feed your body? Because I told you to eat your food?"


My oldest boy says (apparently he was listening that fateful night in the car---BIG SHOCK), "(my daughter's name)---Mom is just being selfish right now. She wants her own way, right Mom?"

These posts are looking more and more like a Family Circle comic strip.



This post on my husband's blog really bothered me. Look at "Sad but True" and give the link a read.


The Millionth Time

Since I have moved here I have been bombarded with ejaculations of surprise over the fact that I have three kids. It happens CONTINUALLY. I mean, every time I go out. Last night my husband and I decided to take the kids out to dinner and we arrived in separate cars. As the kids and I were waiting for Dad to pull up, an older gentleman pulls up and looks at me and peers in wonder. He says the typical, "These aren't yours, are they?"

By now I just say, "Yeah."

"Really?" Wide-eyed.


He points at my oldest (who is almost as big as me, by the way) who is sitting on the other side of the bench. "Even him?"


"You don't look nearly old enough."

"Well, I am."



This happens all the time. No one believes me. They act like I must be ten or something.

I get funny with the responses. Last night I was just tired. I did not feel like coming up with anything fun to say. I like to say, "believe me, I pumped them out, each one of them!"
or, "Well, no, I am not really old enough."
Or my personal favorite, "Yes, they are mine. Yes, I am young. I was a child and then I had children."
I should think of more. It really becomes monotonous in my life, this trying to convince people that the kids are mine. This one lady at the grocery store asked me about ten times over and over to the point where I almost lifted my shirt to show her my stretch marks.

The deal is that no one my age or under thirty has kids here. They all have careers or are students. I say "here" because it is true of this particular geographical location. It is not true, however, where I am from, like Idaho or somewhere less expensive to live or something. So, I will just surrender to the fact that people think I am too young! It will be nice when my kids are out of the house when I am 41. What to do?



Let me intrigue you with how my oldest talks:

Tonight the kids were rough housing. They were crawling around and pretending they were various animals, you know the routine. My oldest is absolutely obsessed with this Pac Man shirt he got from Target. It has three ghosts on it and it is way too big for him. In fact, it looks akin to a dress, but he doesn't care. He first saw this shirt in some run down Mc Donald's in some dumpy Virginia town on the way back from Chincoteague Island. Some punk kid was wearing it and my oldest was like, "That is the coolest shirt I have ever seen!" Mr. Wilhelm has instilled a love of Atari games in our son apparently. Anyway, we were at a Target and he saw it and of course, he begged me like nothing else for the stinking shirt. So, he wears this thing constantly. He reserves it in his drawer after wearing it the previous day and then pulls it out to wear. It gets stains on it, he wipes his mouth on it I am sure, and when it does get washed he puts that thing on as fast as he can. If any of you know me, that is how I was with my Wonder Woman shirt when I was a kid. I can relate to this. So as you may well imagine he is wearing the thing as I type.
Well, like I said, the kids were rough housing. My oldest comes up to me in great haste and concern and says between short breaths, "Mom! They were pulling my shirt! Look!" He turns around to show me how it is slightly pulled up around the collar. He continues to say, "Did they inflict damage!?"


Roll Back America

Does anyone feel guilty shopping at Wal-mart but shops there sometimes anyway because you know the prices are so low it would be wiser for your wallet?

We had this discussion last night at small group (it was not part of the lesson or anything). We have a lot of political people at our small group, so we really can't get away from that kind of discussion. I pretty much know nothing about politics, but feel horrible about Wal-mart. I think it is good and all that because it provides jobs, but of course, it closes down the local small stores, etc. etc. My pastor was saying that places like Wal-mart and Disney (I am really paraphrasing) start to shape our society----it's like they have jumpstarted a new culture. I hate it, now that I look at it.

I feel like that mean dad on speed racer that loathes cars and refuses to drive them so he rides a horse around instead. I am just not gutsy enough to ride the horse. ---So I feel guilty when I drive the car!


The Verve Reborn

I just put in one of my favorite CDs today by a band called The Shore. They sound so similar to The Verve that it is crazy. If you don't know who they are they have a song on the radio called "Hard Road" and I can't remember what the other single is.

It is funny how I discovered them. I was on my way home from picking up Liam's glasses (almost a year ago now) and I heard them on the radio. I thought, "My goodness, this sounds like the Verve!" Thankfully the jockey stated who they were. In fact, I think that was the first play they had on the station, if I remember right.

The really hilarious thing is that they are NOT from England, which is a little bit disappointing, but great because hey, I wish I were British too.

I think they are from L.A. Go figure. I'm from Cali too.


You Know, All That Crazy Stuff

Dinner with my kids can be hilarious sometimes when I am not on their backs to stop talking with food in their mouths or to use their napkin. For some reason last night they were arguing (the boys were) about whether "girls rule" or "boys rule". I know, stupid, but this is what kids talk about. My oldest (he is nine) argued that they "both rule" because they have different functions. He continued to say, "Well, don't get me wrong or anything, I kind of like girls, but I don't care about getting married or sex or any of that crazy stuff."

As you may well imagine, I almost choked.

I did a sort of double take like, "What did you say?" He repeated it. He did ask at one time what sex meant (a long time ago---he loves to read medical manuals) , but he used the word so casually. It was hilarious.

He continued to say, "Yeah, and I'm not going to be one of those teenagers who have posters of girls on their walls either!"

I said, "Where did you get that from?"

He said, "Oh, I don't know, I just know that for some reason."

I said, "Well, that is lust anyway and I would not allow it."

My youngest son said, "Yeah, it would be funny if real girls were hanging from the walls!" Then he proceeded to imitate a girl hanging from a wall saying, "help me!" in a falsetto. He realized what I had said just then. He said, "What is lust?"

I said, "Lust is wanting something you can't have."

So my oldest son said, "Yeah, like, you know, the lust of the flesh!"

I about died.


Local Career Women

It is really strange. I go to a church where there are countless career women----or at least women who are single with no families of their own. They have degrees---lots work on the Hill, or write, or do something crazy that I would never dream of myself doing. This is what happens after the dream of completing college. Last night I was singing at a benefit concert and we had a lady come from my bible study to babysit. We all got into a conversation with her once we were home and my husband asked her what she really wanted to do (since her job is not exactly what she wants). I was surprised at her answer. She said that she wants to be a mom. I know of a few more ladies that have this same dream. It is just funny how blessed I am---how my position in life could be a dreamlife to others.