The ROI on kids.

These guys are celebrating today. And so am I.

They’ve been married 36 years. And they’ve been HAPPILY married  for 36 years.

Here are a few things I’ve learned from them:

1. Never fight in front of the kids (or the cats in my scenario-but I’m convinced my cats speak Spanish, so Bicep’s and my “discussions” seem to be lost in translation).

2. Always kiss, hold hands, tell each other you love them until it grosses out everyone else around you-and then some.

3. Put God first, spouse second, kids third and everything else after that. Unless you have cats. Then, it’s a tie for third.

4. If your kids see you reading the Bible every morning, chances are-they’re going to read the Bible every morning. And, if you actually live out what you’re reading, chances are-they’ll do the same.

5. Saying “shut up” is never acceptable.

6. Fining people for filthy behavior (see #5) works only on tightwods (like me).

7. Telling your kids fun stories, roasting marshmallows, camping, catching lightening bugs and taking long walks makes memories. Television does not. (Obviously, unless it’s MacGyver, you are eating popcorn and drinking five-alive).

8. Make sure your pockets/purse contain kleenex, rubberbands, cough drops, paper clips, an eraser, pencils and notecards. These all come in handy when a sermon/lecture/car ride gets too boring.

9. Take an hour out of each week to invest in a one-on-one date with each kid. The ROI is phenomenal.

10. If your kids see you exercising, they’ll want to exercise. And they’ll also want to wear offensively tiny, gray Army-issued shorts, too. Sorry, Dad. It’s just basic math.

Happy Anniversary to the BEST parents this girl could ever hope for. I love you more than coffee, cats, and french fries. 

My Hippie Parents Surprise Me Again

My upbringing was pretty unorthodox compared to today’s standards. I would have rather spent time at home, with my brothers and parents than anywhere else.

My parent’s had no health insurance, no credit cards, occasionally a t.v. set, one car (with a one car garage), and all our dinners were made from scratch-which we had together every night.

On top of that, my dad left a “stable” career being active duty military to pursue what God had asked him to pursue. My dad is not a fan of change-so this was not a flippant decision. Let’s just say the man duct-taped his flip flops when the broke, because the new ones probably were “too different”.

So, for several years, they left every weekend to preach and sing at tiny churches all over the midwest. They barely made anything, but they made enough.

Eventually, my little brother and I joined them-Daniel was on the juice harp and piano, while I sang duets with dad or the occasional solo when I could muster up the courage.

No matter what back road we were on, there was always time to pick sunflowers and explore barns.

While in college, my parents moved to El Paso for a few years to teach at a christian school just north of the border and then on to St. Louis to be with my Grandma (my dad’s dad).

And that’s where I thought they would land-forever. The had put down roots for almost 15 years, teaching at another christian school, opening a business and remodeling Grandma’s house.

But when you seek God as my parents do, you never know where He’s going to take you.

In two weeks, they are moving to Mississippi (which is awesome because I love to type all those “s’s”) to live and work here-The Baddour Center.

It’s a Non-Profit center that offers those with intellectual disabilities a safe place to live and work. It’s a cool program: they play intramural sports together, perform dramas, offer continuing education and music programs and even have a beautiful garden center.

(Photo Source: Baddour’s Website)
My dad has taken the job of Choral Director for the Center’s choir called, “The Miracles”. The group’s goal is “to glorify God, demonstrate the abilities of persons with intellectual disabilities, and tell the story of The Baddour Center.”

This job is going to fit my dad like a glove. He gets to put to good use his music and touring skills, taking the group to 90 different concerts throughout the year.

Just when I think I’ve got their future all figured out for them, God shakes things up and moves my hippie parents to another state.

Throughout all these changes in their lives, one thing has been certain. Their hearts seek after God-over comfort and familiarity. And they will go where He leads-no matter what.

What more could a girl ask for?

Behind the scenes of Normalcy

You and I both know that for every finished family photo hanging on a wall, there had to be 10 more weird ones rejected. Whether you are the photographer or hired a camera-snapper to do the dirty work-you’ve seen what I’m talking about.

Little Aden is picking his nose. Grandma is coughing into a kleenex. Brother Nimrod is rolling his eyes. And of course, the rabbit ears are a must in at least one photo.

So, when you saw my somewhat normal family photos, you probably thought-“Yeah, but what do they really look like?”.

Let’s discuss this photo.

1. I didn’t make it into the frame, because I set the delay and tripped over the curb.
2. On the left, Biceps doesn’t seem to be helping the distracting situation by dancing.
3. Neither is my oldest (and should be MOST mature) brother who is engaging in some sort of air guitar.
4. Several persons are including the eyes-closed method for taking pictures.
5. One child is intrigued with the veins on the leaves. I get it. They’re cool. But let’s wait for science discoveries until after the photo shoot.
6. One child has paddle hands.
7. The other two look as if they would rather be anywhere else other than here.
8. Pretty much the only “normals” are my 94 year old grandmother and beautiful sis-in-law on the right in an ivory sweater.

But, this is an improvement.

From this.

Who are my stand-ins while I try to find the right lighting. However, things get weirder.

Remember the aforementioned “normal” sis-in-law? She ain’t looking so normal now, is she? More creepy than anything…

It’s just getting creepier.

Do you see what I have to deal with? And I’m so normal, I just don’t understand this weirdness.

Seriously.

Vintage Bubble Dishes & UPS

My adorable parents sent me 10 boxes in the mail while “stationed” in Phoenix helping Grandpa downsize. It felt like Christmas morning when I happened to go to my front porch to grab some basil, and there was a gigantic stack of boxes with my name on them.

(You couldn’t knock, UPS man, and let me know? Geesh. I found out soon enough the quality of the UPS delivery man, however.)

Granted, most of the boxes had broken dishes in them. Thanks, UPS.

However, a few survived.

And they were gorgeous. My Grandma had good taste.

Enough survived that I could at least entertain with.

My Grandma passed away while my family (and I) were still living in Germany. I really never got to know her. I don’t have much from her, except a few pictures and a quilt she made for me as a baby.

But, now I have dishes that she once used. Or, at least the ones that weren’t smashed to smithereens.

And I am in love. I can’t wait to have a party and put these dishes to good use.

“New” Vintage Bubble Dishes seem like a good excuse to have a party. But really, any excuse is a good excuse for me to have a party.

So, who wants to come over?