Confessions: And we laughed!

Thank you to everyone who prayed for me and my family as we said goodbye to Grandma and went through the process of her funeral. Your prayers were answered and felt.

It was a great funeral!

I know, I know... that's kind of a strange thing to say, isn't it? But, the truth is... it was.

And we laughed!

As you'll recall from my earlier post, the pastor conducting the services had never met Grandma and asked all of us to provide him with information about her.  My parents took care of all the "statistics" about where and when she was born, about her parents and siblings, her marriage to my grandfather, and information about her career as a nurse. 

My sister along with our three cousins and I filled him in on the "Grandma tales." If you've been reading my blog for any amount of time I'm sure you've realized that our family has a rather unique sense of humor.  (If you don't know, then read here, here, here or here and you'll understand.)  In other words, we laugh with (and at!) each other. Often.  And Grandma's funeral was no exception. 

The pastor did a wonderful job taking the information from my parents and weaving a story with the memories of the grandchildren. Even the funny ones. Stories like the one provided by my cousin Shannon about the time Grandma got so tickled by the television show she was watching that she flipped over her rocking recliner chair and pinned herself between it and the wall while she continued to laugh and yell for help.  Of course, all of us stood around laughing at her.  (I think my grandfather was the one to finally help her.)

And we laughed!

The laughter continued after the funeral and graveside service.  The church hosted a wonderful meal for our family.  I had grown up in this church but had not been there since I was in high school so it was fun to explore the church building and even discover that some of the ladies preparing the meal remembered me, and I them. During this meal our family members got to talking about how much we enjoyed the funeral service and that we thought Grandma would have been pleased, too.

And we laughed!

That conversation led us to discussing how we would like our own funerals to be conducted.  For instance, my Dad insists that he does not want his casket to be open so that no one is able to talk about how bad he looks.  My uncle piped in at that point and informed us that he does want his casket open and hopes that everyone will discuss how bad he looks: "I'll be dead - I'm not supposed to look good!"

And we laughed!

My Aunt Hilma is an artist and crafter.  She wants all of her works put on display at her funeral.  We all decided that we could help my uncle out by turning the display into a sale. (Funerals are expensive, you know!)

And we laughed!

My sister, Victoria (known by all of us as "the dramatic one") insists that we hire professional mourners for her funeral.  All of us are to dress in black - veils required - and hold a New Orleans-style funeral with the procession and all.  Cue the sad, sad music.

And we laughed!

I told them that there was to be no SAD at my funeral. Tell the funny stories. Laugh at my expense.  And the family dinner afterward?  Make it a fiesta, complete with an authentic Mexican meal (someone, please call my friend Brenda - she makes the best rice, beans and tamales!) and hire a good mariachi band. Lots and lots of happy music.

And we laughed!

All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is by his great mercy that we have been born again, because God raised Jesus Christ from the dead. Now we live with great expectation, and we have a priceless inheritance—an inheritance that is kept in heaven for you, pure and undefiled, beyond the reach of change and decay. And through your faith, God is protecting you by his power until you receive this salvation, which is ready to be revealed on the last day for all to see.

So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many trials for a little while. These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold—though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world.

You love him even though you have never seen him. Though you do not see him now, you trust him; and you rejoice with a glorious, inexpressible joy. The reward for trusting him will be the salvation of your souls.

I Peter 1:3-9 (NLT)

Just stopping by with a few obervations...

Oh, yes… we’re into the end-of-the-semester-preparing-for-Christmas-don’t-forget-the-next-event days. So, I’m just dropping into this blog o’mine to share a few observations I’ve made over the last few days.

• We’re receiving very few Christmas cards this year. So, I’m wondering… Is no one sending cards this year? Or, have we been marked off everyone’s list???
• We scaled back on the Christmas décor this year. Bud thinks it’s great and says we should scale back even more next year. My opinion? Big mistake. Huge mistake. It won’t happen again.
• My kids are having a hard time coming up with ideas of things they’d like to receive as Christmas gifts. I think Burrito summed it up pretty well when he said, “I think that might be a sign that we’re spoiled.” Hmmm… maybe? (Probably.)
• Speaking of Burrito, he’s halfway through his senior year. He’s been accepted to three universities so far and we’re waiting to hear from one more. We’re very proud of him! Nothing more to say about that lest the tears flow.
• Kat is halfway through her freshman year of high school. Is it just my imagination or is the transition to high school harder for girls than boys?
• You know how the police will tell you that there’s no such thing as ticket quotas… particularly at the end of a month? Well, I’ve been making my own observations of the situation over the last few months. My conclusion? I’m not buying that story. (And, no… I haven’t received a ticket.)
• Blogs are being neglected. And, it’s not just the season – it’s another trend I’ve notice over the last several months. You know who you are! (Of course, those bloggers probably aren’t reading my blog anymore either.) And yes, I realize this point is like the pot calling the kettle black.
• It doesn’t feel like December yet. It’s hard to feel Christmassy when the daily temperatures have been in the mid-60s to mid-70s lately. I still made Bud turn on the gas to our fireplace and we’ve used it on a few cooler evenings. I love it! Bud on the other hand, suggested I just burn a few $20s instead.
• This post is making Bud seem very cynical. He’s really not.
• Speaking of Christmas cards… mine are finished but I haven’t mailed them yet. Just in case you were thinking you’d been marked off my list.
• We scaled way back on Christmas gift-giving this year. It feels good. It feels right.
• I’m still in my jammies and need to leave the house in 20 minutes. Guess I’d better get moving.

What observations have you made lately?

Confessions: I need your opinion!

Well, hello! Yes, I do know it's been awhile since I've blogged.

What have I been up to during my blogging absence? Well, two things... One, Kat's freshman year. Two, Burrito's senior year. Enough said? I thought so.

Here's the problem. I really need a hair cut. And color. However, my stylist up and moved to a new town that is just a little too inconvenient of a distance to travel. So, during a ladies' Bible study luncheon yesterday, the topic of stylists came up in conversation.  I tried to make a mental note of the name of the salons that were mentioned by ladies who had cuts and styles that I liked.

You caught the key phrase in that last sentence, right?  Mental note. (Stop laughing!)

Not one to let a little thing like poor short term memory stop me, I just Googled the phrase "hair salons" with the name of my town.  I was certain the recommended salons would be obvious once I saw them. 

What popped up on my computer? The usual chain salons, of course, as well as all the ones named after their owners. The others? Well, they are the ones that scare me. And I promise you I did not make these up!

Milk and Honey Salon (Not sure if this is a Biblical reference or an indication of organic products.)

Trashy Roots Salon and Spa (The hair or the pedigree?)

Mecca Hair Salon (Will I need to convert first?)

All Cranial Needs (Think they can help with my memory issues?)

Too Hotties Hair Cuts (And humble, too!)

Island Salon and Spa (What island? We're pretty well land-locked in central Texas.)

Ooohweez Hair Salon (Ooohweez! Not what I want to hear after a hair cut.)

Smart Style Family Hair Salon (Better than dumb style, right?)

Sexy Scissors (Based on the address indicated, I'm not quite sure that a hair cut is all you'll get for the price of admission at this salon.)

Blondies (What?! No brunettes allowed?)

Klassy Kuts (The k's say it all.)

So, which one should I try?

Confessions: I was nearly mugged at Sam's Club!

My father always took great delight in scaring me, my sister and my younger cousins. 

Oh, I don't just mean the barely raising your voice "BOO!" kind of scare.  I mean the horrible, sudden and without warning, full-on, mask-wearing, jump from the shadows of a summer night, monster-growling "GRRRAAAA!!!" kind of scare.

He's famous for it. Neighborhood children feared him. Really.

And then there was the time he asked me to hold a picture against the wall for him so he could judge the placement.  As I turned my back to dutifully hold the frame in place, he poked me in my side with his finger while simultaneously pulling the trigger on his electric drill with his other hand. 

You should've seen me climb the wall. (For the record, I never dropped the picture!)

I take after my dad in the area of scaring people. My best friend, Stephanie, came by for a visit the evening of the "Drill Incident" (as I like to call it).  Prior to her arrival, I begged dad to do it to her, too. He did. She screamed and collapsed into a heap on the floor. (I'm so sorry, Steph - it truly is a wonder you still consider me your BFA&F!)

I learned well at the feet of the master and it didn't take long for the tradition to continue once I had children. I waited until they were old enough to truly appreciate the experience. You know, like two-years-old.

Oh, sure... it started out innocently enough with the smiley-faced "Boo's!" but quickly progressed to the jumping out from behind doors with a slightly louder, more emphatic "BOO!!!" - arm gestures and appropriate posturing included at no additional charge.

It was all fun and games until I saw a news report about a mother who had done the same thing to her son.  And it killed him. I kid you not. Turns out, the little guy had an undiagnosed heart condition and the shock literally stopped his heart.

Well, alrighty then. Who needs that kind of guilt? Not me! So I laid off the scaring of the children. For awhile. Months, I'm sure.  Addictions across generations are the hardest to break, you know.

I'm pleased to report that we've come full circle with this family addiction tradition.

I took the kiddos with me to Sam's Club last night for dinner and a little shopping. (Oh, come on... you know you eat at Sam's and Costco for dinner sometimes, too!)  They quickly tired of following me around and informed me that I could find them relaxing on the furniture display when I was finished walking the aisles. 

As I hurried down one of the aisles nearest the back corner of the store, I noticed that it was getting close to closing time and there weren't many shoppers left in the store.  I paused mid-aisle to mentally calculate the cost-per-jar of various spaghetti sauces when "The Near Mugging" happened. Two hands shoved me squarely in the back, throwing me into the handle bar of the shopping cart while a deep, growling voice yelled, "GGGRRRAAA!!!"  (Thank goodness for the shopping cart because my own two legs wouldn't have supported me.)  I turned to defend myself against the attacker while preparing to scream.  There stood my two offspring - both doubled over in laughter.

"We got you!"

"You should've seen your face!"

"You jumped so bad!"

So, if you hear a news report about a middle-aged woman dieing from a heart attack following a scare - please send flowers to the funeral. And get my kids some counseling before they harm another generation with this addiction tradition.

They look so innocent, don't they?

Confessions: How to end your week with a bang.

We have a cat. Max was a rescue and came with a few phobias (tv remotes) and several odd issues (eating fuzz). But, mostly he's a sweet, loving kitty.

However, one of Max's annoying habits is that he never yacks up fur balls during daylight hours. Never. Never ever. No, I'm always awakened at some awful hour to the sound of a cat strangling. Or, awakened by Larry shaking me while yelling, "Get up! Max is about to puke!"

Nice, huh?

Apparently, I am the only one in this house who can clean up cat puke. I've got skillz, I tell ya!

So, this past Friday at 3:15 in the morning, I was awakened to that sound. I threw back the blankets and my feet hit the floor in one smooth motion. I willed my eyes to adjust to the pitch black. Using my cat-finding-sonar, I ascertained that Max was hunkered down near the door to our bedroom.

Now, one thing you have to know about Max is that he gives me about 4.2 seconds between the first warning "cough" and the point where he actually explodes. There's no time to turn on a light or to put on my slippers. If I'm lucky, there's just enough time to grab him and move him to a surface other than my bedroom carpet.

So, I scooped up Max and made aim for the hardwood floor in the hallway just outside our bedroom. I didn't even take the time to stand. I tucked Max into a football hold in the crook of my right arm and ran for the doorway like a linebacker.

Did I mention that we always sleep with our bedroom door open? Always. Except that night, when we had pushed the door mostly closed to block the light from Burrito's late night television viewing in the family room just down the hall.

In two running steps, I pile drived my head into the bedroom door, nearly slamming it through the frame. At the same instant, Max's 4.2 seconds of warning came to an end.

Surprisingly, Larry woke up right about then and sat up long enough to ask (none too pleasantly, I might add), "What is going on???"

Poor Max! He wouldn't let me pick him up for the remainder of that day. As much as my head hurt, I kept wondering about how badly he'd have been hurt if I'd have stood up and carried him out in front of me like I often do in those situations.

So, how do you end your week with a bang???

Confessions: God is not finished with me yet!

It's nearly the end of January. The year is still young.

Yet...

In many aspects of my life, I feel I've experienced a full year's worth of living already. And, I have a feeling that God is not finished with me yet. (Not that I expect to reach the "finished" stage here on this earth.) I'm still pondering how to put this experience, this learning, this awareness into words.

I heard a quote last week that really struck a chord with me:

"God's love is not a pampering love - it is a perfecting love." (James MacDonald)

Hmmm...

Am I guilty of associating a comfortable life (pampering?) with being loved by God?

Do I recognize God's perfecting in my life? Even when it means discomfort?

(Ouch.) If I'm honest, I know the answers to those questions.

I'll be pondering this awhile longer.

So, what about you? What are you pondering these days???

We know how much God loves us, and we have put our trust in his love. God is love, and all who live in love live in God, and God lives in them. And as we live in God, our love grows more perfect. So we will not be afraid on the day of judgment, but we can face him with confidence because we live like Jesus here in this world. Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of punishment, and this shows that we have not fully experienced his perfect love. (I John 4:16-18, NLT)

Confessions: I wasn't even there when it happened!

It's been such a busy fall that blogging has fallen by the wayside. I will get back to it. Soon. I promise!

In the meantime, please allow me to tell you what I have not been up to lately. I have not been taking golf lessons from Elin Nordegren, wife of Tiger Woods.

Bud was helping a friend move into a new apartment. He had his arms loaded with boxes, tripped on curb and took a direct header into a stucco column. Knocked himself silly, literally. In his words, "The column won." You think?!

And just for the record... I wasn't even there when it happened.

So, what haven't you been up to lately???

Confessions: Something to think about.

"You cannot legislate the poor into freedom by legislating the industrious out of it. You don't multiply wealth by dividing it. Government cannot give anything to anybody that it doesn't first take from somebody else. Whenever somebody receives something without working for it, somebody else has to work for it without receiving. The worst thing that can happen to a nation is for half of the people to get the idea they don't have to work because somebody else will work for them, and the other half to get the idea that it does no good to work because they don't get to enjoy the fruit of their labor."

(Ten Secrets for a Successful Family by Dr. Adrian Rogers, 1996, p. 138)

Confessions: I'm livin' it!

"You can't write about life if you aren't out there livin' it!"

Well, dear readers (all three of you)...

I can assure you I've been out there livin' it. One of these days soon, I'll start blogging about it again, too.

So, what have we been up to this summer?

So glad you asked!

• Band camps
• Cheer camps
• Church camp (This was the first year for Kat!)
• A newly licensed driver in the family (It's a strange feeling to see my car being driven away by my oldest with the youngest riding shotgun!)
• A girl friend (Burrito's, that is! Not Bud's, I don't let him have one anymore!)
• A family vacation at the coast (Galveston... *sigh*)
• A mission trip
• A trip to Ohio to visit my side of the family
• All day at an amusement park
• A quick visit with a best friend
• Swimming at the neighborhood pool
• Sonic runs for late night ice cream
• At-home movie nights
• Most recently, the ramp up for the impending school year (Sadly, two weeks from today!)

And guess what? I have pictures of most of the fun. Oh, yes... I have plans to share them.

Stick around... (please???)

Confessions: How do you do it?

I am doing something a little different this year in my quiet time. I am reading the Bible through - which I've done before in various ways - but this time in chronological order in the New Living Translation. It has been awesome! The New Testament flows pretty easily as it's organized in most versions of the Bible, but the Old Testament can seem rather disjointed in its typical ordering. It's been so satisfying to read it this way and to enjoy the flow of it.

I'm especially appreciative of reading the Psalms as they fall into the events. The Psalms are always great to read, but even more so when you have a fresh understanding of the events that inspired them.

Because of reading the Bible this way, I really cannot skip a day's reading. It would be kind of like studying U.S. history starting in the colonial days and then jumping into the current events without knowing what happened in between! It's been a really good external motivator to keep up with my reading. On the rare occasion that I have missed a day, I double up - usually by trying to find two times in the day to read.

So, how do you do it? Cover to cover? The "flip and point" method? By genre?

What is it???

Can you guess?

Confessions: Answering a Proust Questionnaire

Because I don’t have any creativity for original writing at the moment…

The Proust Questionnaire has its origins in a parlor game popularized (though not devised) by Marcel Proust, the French essayist and novelist, who believed that, in answering these questions, an individual reveals his or her true nature. Here is the basic Proust Questionnaire.

1. What is your idea of perfect happiness? Living a life in obedience to God's plan for me.

2. What is your greatest fear? Death or harm to my children.

3. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? Lack of self-discipline.

4. What is the trait you most deplore in others? It would be a tie between dishonesty and fakeness. (Although, fakeness is really just a form of dishonesty, isn’t it?)

5. Which living person do you most admire? My husband.

6. What is your greatest extravagance? With my husband’s blessing, the manicure that I get every other week. (Bud says it’s worth it every time I scratch his back!)

7. What is your current state of mind? Calm

8. What do you consider the most overrated virtue? Is there such a thing? Although, I do despise "honesty" used as a disguise for maliciousness!

9. On what occasion do you lie? Possibly to spare someone deep hurt. Although, I prefer avoidance over lying if at all possible.

10. What do you most dislike about your appearance? As much as I like lists, I’m not going to start this list right now. Ha!

11. Which living person do you most despise? Child abusers and molesters.

12. What is the quality you most like in a man? Integrity. (See my answers to questions number 5 and 30.)

13. What is the quality you most like in a woman? Integrity.

14. Which words or phrases do you most overuse? “Apparently” and “No, what did YOU say?” (The latter just to irritate my kids!)

15. What or who is the greatest love of your life? My husband.

16. When and where were you happiest? Now! At every stage of life I think, “This is the stage I’ll look back upon and think was the best.” Then, I reach the next stage and think the same again!

17. Which talent would you most like to have? To be a great singer.

18. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? More self-discipline.

19. What do you consider your greatest achievement? Being a mother.

20. If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be? A cat because they have nine lives. Right?

21. Where would you most like to live? On the coast – preferably in a southern region.

22. What is your most treasured possession? Videos of my children over the years and linens/quilts that were made by my great-grandmothers.

23. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery? Godlessness.

24. What is your favorite occupation? Homemaker, baker, writer. In that order.

25. What is your most marked characteristic? I’m the boss. Don’t believe it? Just ask… I’ll tell you!

26. What do you most value in your friends? Faithfulness/loyalty.

27. Who are your favorite writers? In no particular order: Jane Austen, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Janette Oke, Robert Frost, and Betty Crocker.

28. Who is your hero of fiction? That would have to be Betty Crocker! (I'm not going to debate this answer. Betty is a fictitious character and she's a hero in my kitchen - which completely qualifies my answer!)

29. Which historical figure do you most identify with? I’d like to say Ma Ingalls (Little House on the Prairie) but I’m not sure I could live up to her standard. My husband has dragged me all over the country (VA, to TN, to IL, to TX) but he never made me do it in a horse-drawn wagon or required my help to build our home with my own two hands. But, I do like to think that I can “roll with the punches” like she did! (Updated to add: When I said Bud has "dragged me all over the country," I didn't mean to imply that he made me move against my will - I've happily anticipated every move we've made and fallen more in love with each home/community than the prior one. I simply meant that we've moved more often than many couples and each time to a very different region of our country.)

30. Who are your heroes in real life? My dad and Bud. Both are godly men of integrity who live their lives for the good of their family.

31. What are your favorite names? My kids’ names: Burrito and Kat.

32. What is it that you most dislike? Lack of integrity.

33. What is your greatest regret? I don’t have any great regrets – just things I might have done differently.

34. How would you like to die? In my sleep at a very, very old age.

35. What is your motto? There’s no guarantee of tomorrow!

So, who's up for answering next??

Confessions: Laundry

Before we discuss laundry, let me be perfectly honest with you.

This is not my laundry basket. How do we know this?

First, we don't have a dog. (My cat could totally take this dog.)

Second, the laundry in the basket is folded. Mine is rarely folded. And by rarely I mean never.

Finally...

See the floor? The one without any dog hair despite the fact that a dog obviously lives in this house? My floor is not that clean. Ever. (Hello? I have two children and a cat!)

Now that I've gotten that cleared up, let's talk about laundry.

I hate it.

The problem with laundry doesn't start with the sorting. I don't mind that. Or the washing. Or even the drying. It's all the steps that come after the first three. You know - the folding, the hanging up and, mostly... the putting away of the clean clothes.

I make promises to myself quite often about this laundry situation.

"I promise this week will be different. I will keep up with the laundry."

Sometimes I successfully make it to Tuesday with this goal!

So, I have a question for all of you.

How many of you will be honest enough to admit that your family selects their clothes from the laundry basket each morning?

I'm not alone in this, right?

Confessions of an April's Fool

I've always loved April Fool's Day. It's one event that really fits my personality. I'm extremely good at coming up with pranks to play on my unsuspecting family. (You'd think they'd learn, wouldn't you?) Except for last year when I totally forgot about the day.

Until I got the phone call.

You do remember what happened, don't you? No? You'll want to go read about it here.

Pretty funny, right?

Well... the day was young and far from over for me.

Then came Kat's little prank. Don't remember that either? Read about it here.

(Seriously... go ahead. I'll wait.)

I've been waiting all year for payback. ALL. YEAR.

Tomorrow is THE day.

What do I have planned? Nothing. I've got nothing.

So, what is your favorite trick? Don't give me the usual plastic-wrap-over-the-toilet-seat or resetting the alarm clock three hours ahead. Don't get me wrong - those are hilarious. But I need original, make 'em pay ideas. Ideas that will make them think twice about trying to trick the mother of all tricksters ever again.

I know you won't let me down!

Overheard...

In our home, the kiddos' bedrooms and the game room are on the second floor of the house. The main living areas and our bedroom are on the first floor. So quite often the kiddos are able to carry on conversations without us hearing them.

Burrito left at six o'dark-clock in the morning to participate in an indoor drumline competition in another town. (They placed second! Woohoo!!) That left Kat an only child for the day and stuck alone with me as Bud had also left on a fishing trip.

Apparently, they both have a lot of catching up to do as they've been talking pretty much nonstop since Burrito arrived home about an hour ago.

As I was preparing to order pizza for our dinner (don't judge... I already told you Bud was fishing!), I overheard this conversation as Burrito passed Kat on his way back to his room following a shower.

Kat: You're so skinny!

Burrito: That's okay - at least I won't ever have to worry about getting fat.

Kat: Ya, but you're almost too skinny.

Burrito: No I'm not. Plus, look at the muscles in my arms from playing drums. It's sick!

(Sick is a good thing in teenager speak.)

Kat: I think you should get a six-pack.

Burrito: Okay.

Because it's just that easy, right? Let's not tell him about the cruel trick his metabolism is going to play on him somewhere in his mid-30's, okay?

Confessions: Just thinking...

After paying more than $400 to have our children’s teeth “sealed” last year, how could those same diligent teeth-brushing children each have a cavity? Shouldn’t last year’s dental work come with some sort of a warranty? And, shouldn’t the fillings be free?

It rained today. The day I chose to go antique shopping with my parents in Salado. Aren’t we supposed to be experiencing the “100-year drought” in central Texas? I’m really not complaining about the rain. We do need it. But, seriously… today?

Did you know that I could be a grandmother? While shopping today, someone asked my parents if they had any great grandchildren yet. Before they could answer, I piped in with, “No, because I’m not old enough.” That conversation returned to my thoughts some hours later. I began doing the math. IF I’d married younger. (But still of “legal” age.) IF I’d had my children younger. And IF they’d then married young, too. Well, yes, I could be a grandmother. Alrighty then. Depressing.

Do you know what happens when you dream about blowing your nose? I do.

What does a high school honors chemistry class and baking cookies have in common? One large project that involves more work for me than it does for my kiddo. And more cookies in this house than are needed. (Recipe at the end of the post.)

The Queen Mum and Dad are planning to leave next week. I wish they’d stay longer. I’ve gotten use to having another “wife” in the house.

Don’t you just love the way my brain works? Scary, isn’t it?

Guess what? This is my 100th post! IF you're still reading... congratulations! Leave a comment and I'll randomly select one winner to receive a prize box full of some of my favorite things. One entry per person, please. Comments will close at midnight Central Time on Thursday. The winner will be announced on Friday.

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Comments are now closed. Winner will be announced later today!

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Finally, as promised...

Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies

1/2 pound (2 sticks) butter, softened
1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1-1/2 cups regular flour (If using self-rising, omit baking soda and salt)
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt

3 cups oats (uncooked)
2 cups milk chocolate chips

Heat oven to 350°F. In large bowl, beat butter,sugars until creamy. Add eggs and vanilla; beat well. Add combined flour, baking soda, cinnamon and salt; mix well. Add oats and chocolate chips; mix well.

Drop dough by generous tablespoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheets. Bake 13-15 minutes or until light golden brown on edges. Do not overbake. Cool 1 minute on cookie sheets; remove to wire rack. Cool completely. Store tightly covered. Makes approximately 3 dozen cookies.

Confessions: Mamma's Boys

A new show premiers on NBC tonight. "Momma's Boys" is a new dating series that centers on three possessive yet loving mothers who must help their complacent sons choose the perfect woman - and ultimately poses the question: "Who is really the most important woman in every man's life?"

Over the course of six weeks, viewers will watch intense, emotional showdowns and rivalries, as well as raw, personal moments between mother and son. All of this will unfold as 32 single women - some classy and some brassy - vie for the attention of the three eligible bachelors and their mothers who live with them throughout the series. "Momma's Boys" will uncover the conflicts between a mother's wishes and a son's desires and reveal the truth about who plays a more crucial role in a young man's life - his mother or his significant other.

(So say the previews for this show.)

There are some reality shows that I like to watch. This won't be one of them. I question whether this show even qualifies as a reality show. And I further question the sincerity of the emotions and the depth of relationships fostered in the artificial environment created by the show's creator and producers.

However, I do believe I have two unique perspectives on the subject of this show. If you read my anniversary post, you'll know that Bud and I met on a blind date - set up by his mother. So, I can attest to the valuable insight a mother may have into whom might or might not be a good match for her son. Did Bud's mom set us up with the hopes that we'd be married barely more than a year later? No. She just knew both of us well enough to know that our personalities and interests would be a good match for a friendship. It just turned out to be the deepest kind of friendship.

She also did not go on our first date with us. She did not plan our dates. She did not spy on our dates. (That I know of!) She did not instigate showdowns. She did not view me as a rival, but rather as a friend and now daughter. She did not eliminate any other potential girlfriends. Not that eliminating the competition wouldn't have been appreciated had there been anyone else vying for Bud's attention! Just saying...

My other perspective comes from now being the mother of a son who is probably on the cusp of dating. I've already told Burrito that I hope he chooses a girl who does not have a mother. You know, so that she'll turn to me for advice in making little decisions like what colors to choose for the wedding, where to hold the reception, what to name my first grandbaby, and who to spend the holidays with every year. I kid. Mostly.

Seriously, we have already begun talking with Burrito about choosing his future spouse. Other than asking Christ to be his savior, it will be the most important decision he will make and his choice will affect all aspects of his life. We've emphasized that it's never too early to begin praying for this young woman. We've talked to him about the benefits of having Godly counsel in making decisions like choosing a spouse. Godly counsel. That would be me. (Oh, come on... I kid again. Mostly.)

I won't be watching this show. Let me know if you do and what you think of it.

As the Scriptures say, “A man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife, and the two are united into one.” This is a great mystery, but it is an illustration of the way Christ and the church are one. So again I say, each man must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband. (Ephesians 5:31-33 NLT)

Confessions: Remember the pigs?

I'll bet that's not a question you're asked very often! But you do remember the pigs, right? Actually, the correct name for them is feral hogs.

Whatever.

They're still here. And the problem is getting worse.

Our little patch of suburbia has been a featured story in all of our local papers. A few nights ago, we were the leading story on the evening news. That's just how we want our community spotlighted. Very classy.

We're thinking of having ham for Thanksgiving and Christmas this year. Not really. Feral hogs do not make good table meat.

Are you achin' for some bacon?



Oi!

Friday Confession

One of my blog friends recently told me in an email that she thought I was almost perfect. Hmm. The fleeting feeling of flattery was quickly replaced by shame. I’m not perfect. Those of you who know me in the real world know this to be all too true.

So, I’m going to make a confession to all of you. One that will surely dispel any doubt about my perfection.

I am a prejudiced person.

There! I said it and it’s true.

I think my prejudices are the reason I so love living in the suburbs. In a neighborhood with deed restrictions. It keeps those we consider “less desirable” at a more comfortable distance.

Until recently.

You see, some of those “types” just recently moved into our neighborhood. They are ruining our little piece of suburban utopia.

How?

They show no consideration for those of us who like to sleep at normal hours – you should hear them carrying on in the middle of the night.

They have no respect for the property of their neighbors. Vandalism has increased ten fold since they moved in. Just look at what some of them did to one of our neighbor’s lawn!

They are downright mean. Our property owner’s association even had to send out an email to all of the residents, warning us to keep our children and pets away from them. I personally hope they stay away from our schools!

And they stink. And, I do mean a literal, one of the five senses stink. I don’t think they bathe. Ever.

I know you’re probably shocked to read all of this. I’m hoping this confession doesn’t make you think less of me.

Perhaps if I show you a picture of our new neighbors, you’ll understand.

Wild pigs. Noisy, destructive, mean and stinky.

What did you think I was talking about?!