EH-PAH-NAY-SHUR!

We have a special riding-in-the-van CD. The kids don't want to listen to anything else.

Track 3 is their favorite. How Finley interpreted 'Elevation' as 'Ehpahnayshur' is beyond me.

As soon as the music starts, Joe and Fin start bobbing their heads, and soon they are ooo-ooing at the top of their lungs with Bono.

I'm wondering if these kids will ever get tired of it. I hope so. It's been in there for over 6 months.

Random Thought Post

My sister-in-law sent a link to one of those political 'what-are-you' quizzes , and come to find out, my views didn't line up with any of the candidates. In fact, the most my ideas matched with any one candidate was 43%. How could I vote for some one I can't agree with even half the time? In spite of my lack of enthusiasm, we went as a family yesterday and voted. At least I could go vote against the senators and reps that I thought should no longer be in office.

Today, I decided I'm not doing so badly in the parenting category. I met a lady who was frazzled because her 2 and 4 year old children wanted hot chocolate, and she felt obliged to cater to their whim. Children are not meant to run your lives, people. It is okay to say 'no.'

I am also amused by people who participate in CSA's, but won't let their child eat something that has fallen into regular dirt or grass. 'Ooo. That's icky!' I guess they don't realize that a little dirt in one's diet can help strengthen the immune system.

I really like dictionary.com. I use it frequently.

This morning, Chris was up at 3:30 am to go to Knoxville. As he was leaving at 3:45, I was up nursing Z. He told me that he was going to reset the alarm and I could shut it off in the morning. I could not, for the life of me, understand why he would reset his alarm (which normally goes off at 5:30) and force me to get up then. I got really frustrated. 'Why do you have to reset the alarm?'
'You don't get it, do you?' he asked, getting frustrated with me.
'No, I don't.'
It took a minute before it dawned on me that he was talking about the burglary alarm.

The "Crisis"

Listening to Dave Ramsey yesterday, a listener wrote in saying that he had been stressed about the economy until he quit listening to the news. He then found that he became relaxed and at peace.

One of Ramsey's favorite lines goes something like: '100% of the homes that are foreclosed on had mortgages.' That got me thinking again about how nice it would be to not have a mortgage hanging over our heads. Now that I'm not pregnant, I almost convinced myself yesterday that I wouldn't mind living in a tent or a trailer for a year while we remodeled or built [as long as we had a killer piece of property].

Anyway, today, in celebration of the ability to choose what helps shape my mental state, I am going to keep the radio off, turn on the automatic playlist on my computer that plays all my favorite songs, and be happy.

A Lucid Moment

In my railing against narrow thinking (lately, the literal seven days of creation train of thought), I stumbled upon a new idea that led me to question another traditional belief that death did not exist before the 'fall' of Adam and Eve.

I batted the idea around with my brother, who, in the midst of the conversation, warned that I might be bordering upon heresy. I don't remember exactly what it was that prompted the warning, but at the time it disturbed me a bit. Was I about to get myself thrown straight to hell for my thoughts? Anyway, now that I understand the definition of heresy, I don't mind playing the heretic once in a while. (Jesus was one, wasn't he?) I do greatly value those around me who are willing to tell me that I might be a little off, and challenge me to think things through a little better. I'd love to hear any thoughts you have on my ramblings.

Anyway, in the bath this morning [the great think tank of the the ages], I had a moment of lucidity. It went something like this:

If there was no birth, death, and decay cycle in Eden, what was the point of fruit? Seeds are meant to go into the ground to bring forth new life because the old will die out. How in the world would Adam and Eve understand the concept of 'perishing' if they ate the forbidden fruit if there was no example for them to see? Perhaps death did exist to show them what would happen in the event that they chose to follow their own idea of what was right.

I was also seeing another parallel that makes sense to me. This may seem crazy to everyone else reading, but... oh well. There are three levels of life. First there is plant life: life in body only. Next comes the animal kingdom with a whole new level of life... (dare I say a soul?) And when God created man, he added a spirit to the body and soul, completing the image of God.

And with that, it was time to get out of the shower and attend to my crying baby...

Therapy

The dirtying of one's fingers is a highly underrated experience.

I have felt a little not sane lately.

It might be the lack of sleep. Z's sleeping patterns are still rather irregular. And I've been up later these past few nights.

It might be the lack of thought-provoking, adult conversation. Finley is my most constant companion, but she isn't the greatest person to talk to. She tends to be very vague and talks in circles. Here is an example of our dinner conversation last night:

F- You do what you can do, Daddy does what Daddy can do, see, and Re does what Re can do, and Joe does what Joe can do, see, and we all do what we can do!

Me- What is it that I can do?

F- You do what you do!

Mind numbing, literally.

It might be the fact that I forget to eat because I am so busy taking care of everyone else.

It's probably a combination of these and other things. Regardless, I've been feeling a little off balance.

Today, Z fell asleep, and the kids (in order to preserve the last remaining remnant of my sanity) were plopped down in front of the TV. I ran out to check the mailbox (which was empty) and looked at my weedy flower bed.

I have been dreading the degrassification of this particular bed, thinking that the roots would have a grip of iron in the caked dirt and that I would have to resort to digging up the entire thing. I didn't want to go that route, as I have quite a few bulbs planted there, my favorites being a giant allium and some white, multi-flowering daffodils.

I bent down and yanked on a tuft of grass. It pulled out easier than I expected, the soil beneath light and fluffy from the mulch and grass clippings that have been decaying there over the seasons. My spirits rose, and I pulled out a few more handfuls of grass. Then I spotted some daffoldil bulbs that had surfaced, and I realized I couldn't bear to leave this bed like it was any longer. I ran inside to check on the kids, then headed to the garage to get my 'claw' and trowel.

A half an hour later, all the grass is gone and the bulbs are replanted. The soil lies naked, waiting to receive some plants, some cover. I am filled with a deep sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. I feel a little more sane.

Twinkies

Last night, Z and I took off for a girls' night out. I stopped at Mark & Molly's to drop off their camera. Molly (and, later, my friends) pointed out that we were dressed in similar outfits. I admit that this has happened to me frequently, although not purposefully. Somehow, whatever I am in the mood to wear that day ends up on one of my children as well, only for me to notice halfway through the day.

Today, since I was out rather late, Chris got up with the kids this morning and let me sleep in. When I came downstairs, I found there was another set of Twinkies in the house. Apparently, I'm not the only one that does it:

The 3 Month Photo Shoot

Back to the Garden

A couple weeks ago, Chris tilled up the mess that was my vegetable garden. We pulled out as much Bermuda grass (pronounced bu-mood-a if you are a real Southerner) as possible and I decided to try a second planting before the 'winter' weather comes to stay. It has been in the 80's here during the day, in the mid 60's at night. Meanwhile, my folks up in Montana got their first good snow for the year.

I had some left-over pea, radish, carrot, and lettuce seed, so planted some haphazard rows, and watered them in... I have a solid row of peas, and two of radishes. A row of timid carrot hairs are showing some promise, and a few lettuce seeds sprouted. I thinned out the radishes today, and saved them to top a salad later today. Mind you, I don't know if radish spouts taste good, but I figured it couldn't hurt to try them.

I also decided to rake some of the first fall leaves on a portion of the garden in an attempt to stifle all the sneaky little weedlings that popped up over night. Aside from the invasive Bermuda grass, another thing I despise about Southern flora is the crazy weeds that sprout in the fall. You'd think it was spring, watching the way these bold plants sprout in the face of oncoming winter. In a few weeks, I'll be able to pull up this stuff by the fist full.

I keep wanting to try an experiment, inspired by my Saturday morning listenings to Mike McGrath's "You Bet Your Garden" on NPR. Corn gluten meal is a preemergent herbicide and fertilizer in one. For six months after an application, the stuff kills the roots of any sprouting seed. It also gives the ground a good dose of nitrogen. Late summer or early fall would be the perfect time to apply it around here, as it would keep these weeds from sprouting, and our lawn would look fabulous the next spring. And if I applied it early enough, and skipped any fall plantings in my garden, perhaps I could start with a nearly weed-free garden in the spring! My only problem is I don't know where to find it around here, and I can't justify the cost at this point, anyway...

I know what some of you are thinking... Since I have such a small veggie garden, why haven't I built some raised beds, load it up with good soil and compost, enjoy the natural weed barrier, and fore go the tilling? I'd like to. But once again, I'm limited by time and finances. Someday, maybe.

Z at 3 months

And this is why some little babies are terrified of Chris (although ours end up thinking he's fairly entertaining):

Fantasy Football Frustration

It is unfortunate that I am so competitive. I makes me care about things more than I'd like to admit.

After a first week win, I have experienced a series of dismal failures. And I am about to blame it, in part, on 'Turf-Toe Tomlinson.'

We all know (at least those of us in Tennessee) what happened to Eddie George of the Titans once he received the infamous turf-toe injury: His career went down the tubes. And after consulting WebMD and finding that turf-toe usually needs a good three weeks to heal...

With the combination of LT's spotty record, and the conspiracy between my two quarterbacks, Eli Manning and Philip Rivers, it seems I am destined for failure this year. And conspiracy, it must be, because no matter who I decide to put in for the week, my benched players inevitably out-perform those I put in.

On top of it all, our league's commissioner is rubbing salt in the wound by sending me a plaque via e-mail, declaring me a last-place loser. Ah, well...

Jackpot

Today, I was allowed to leave the house with only my nursling in tow.

I desperately needed to go shopping for some pants that weren't athletic pants, that I felt like I looked nice in, and that were comfortable. That's a pretty tall order. And not knowing how long I am going to be the size and shape I am, I didn't want to spend much money.

So I went to Goodwill. It was so nice to have only a sleeping baby with me. I could take my time and not worry about my other two rambunctious little ones running down the aisles and hiding from me in the racks. The only negative was that they weren't there to help determine whether or not something I found might fit them.

I really liked the fact that this Goodwill store is organized by color and relative size. That made it easier to find something I might like.

As I was scanning through the tan women's pants, I came across a pair of prAna pants. I couldn't believe it. prAna is a line of yoga/climbing clothes that are very cool, and very pricey. One pair of pants usually sells for over $55. And they fit me.

I also found:

-a nearly satisfactory replacement for the charcoal grey cardigan sweater that my friend Al gave me years ago that, sadly, is suffering from unravelling sleeve ends

-a nice light-blue, long-sleeved shirt that I can already tell I will wear to death

-another pair of Eddie Bauer pants that I won't be embarrassed to wear someplace other than the grocery store

-and a bunch shirts and pants for the little ones

All of this for under $30.

Questions, Part 2

All too often, I find that when I write something, I look back at it a few hours later, find I have processed my thoughts a bit more, and wish I would have worded something differently or added something or left something out.

Looking back, I wish I had communicated more clearly in my 'Questions' post certain things. God can communicate to me through the reading of scripture if I just listen with spiritual ears rather than just trying to understand x & y with my mind. (It's the jumping to conclusions with uninformed minds that really freaks me out.) God can also communicate with things like dreams, visions, a bug crawling across the driveway, or what have you. (It is the folks that believe the Bible is the only way that God communicates that really freak me out.)

I really like when things are simple. When something is presented to me in a way that is too complicated, too wordy, too covoluted, I want to scream and run away.

Speaking of convoluted, did you watch the debate last night? I didn't hear much 'straight talk.'

Oh, The Fun Things We Do

One of the kids' new books is a story about some dragons that babysit some cats. They take the cats camping and toast marshmallows. So this is our little version of 'camping' until I get the guts to try the real thing someday:

Yesterday was rather rainy, and the kids wanted to play in the rain. I don't know how it is that Finley decided to wear her dragon costume in the rain, much less why she decided they ought to build a wall... But I was impressed. They even used mud for mortar in between the bricks:This is as far as they got before I forced them inside for a bath and lunch:

Questions

Although there seems to be some confusion about the origin and meaning of my name, and aside from the fact that my parents didn't expect to have to name a girl and scrambled to find a name they liked, I suppose it fits me well. One meaning is 'seeker of truth'... and I like to ask questions. This tends to leave me a bit frustrated at times, especially when the answers don't come easily.


I have been thinking about the Bible some. And I'm thankful we don't live in the dark ages, because I'd be afraid to say anything and be burned at the stake as a heretic or something. But here is my confession: the Bible is a source of frustration to me at this point in my life.

One source of frustration comes from the fact that I don't know Hebrew or Greek. I will read a passage in one translation, look it up in another, and get two completely different spins on the verses. One translation can be worded with grace, another can feel like an accusing finger is being pointed in your face. (Take Hebrews 5:14 for example, the NIV and the original Living translations.*) As a mother of three young children, I don't have the hours to devote to in depth research. (I do, however, have make time to whack away at this keyboard.)

Another source of my Biblical frustration is the fact that I am not all too familiar with the Jewish culture of the time. Our interpretation of scripture as we look through a Western lens can differ greatly from the original meaning. When I am reading, and realize that I don't have all the information needed to understand something properly, it makes me grumpy. I felt the same way reading James Joyce. Although A Portrait of the Artist As a Young Man was one of my favorite reads, I felt like I was missing out on a lot. I started to read Ulysses, but gave up.

I also get frustrated with politics. I listen to all the mud-slinging and empty promises. (The president does not have the power to instantly make all these promises come to fruition... why can't they admit that, and why does the public believe he can?) I listen to every one's reasons about why they are voting for whom. Then I find myself stuck in the middle, frustrated with the ignorance shown on both sides. My only solace is knowing that I will get a good laugh watching SNL during election years.

As I've been stewing a bit about all of this complicated mess, and certain answers aren't coming easily, I have been reminded that it doesn't matter all that much. Relationships matter more than answers to all those questions I have.

It strikes me as a sad joke that many people try have a 'relationship' with God based only on reading the Bible or pursuing religion. How could I get to know my husband through his letters (what letters? ha.), a list of his likes and dislikes, or just based on the things others say about him?

When I was younger, I would sneak out of the house during thunderstorms and run around in the rain, watching the lightning in the sky, enjoying the feel of the cold rain on my skin. Other times I would climb our sycamore tree to its top, rocking with the swaying branches in the wind. I remember watching a hawk take flight from nearby and float up on the air currents. I was communing with God, spirit to spirit.

Times like those are fewer these day. My communion with God comes mostly in the pauses of busyness or the quiet of mindless tasks. And once in a while, during those moments, he'll answer a question or two.


*Come to find out, the Living translation of the Bible that I looked the verse up in is no longer in use. I could not find any translations online that were worded like the one I made reference to. Now, there is the New Living translation. I guess they decided the old one wasn't any good.

Crazy Horse

Remember how I told you that Finley has been pretending to be a horse?

My brother captured the essence of it.

As she told him, her name was "Spirit... as in spirited."