The Art of Thanksgiving.

Southern hospitality and general manners require the reply of "thank you" when you receive anything from another person. This is an act, as parents, we have attempted to teach and engrave into our children. It must have finally caught on because the third of the three is the most genuine with her "thank you", the first and the second, well, maybe a testament to our parenting, but it's a work in progress. Polite, yes; genuine, maybe, not so much. Again, work in progress. 

I get amused at the level of annoyance people reach from the Facebook postings around this time of the year. I love it because I enjoy reading the differences in the people.  I also enjoy the annoyed posts, but again, I love reading about the differences in the people.  

Thanksgiving is an art. Now, my first thought, because I love to eat and more than that, I love and respect my Mamaw to such a degree that no words in my vocabulary exist or amount of saying it a loud that will express it, but my first thought of Thanksgiving is Mamaw behind her stove in her kitchen. [She has a counter-top cook stove with an bar across from it and the BEST conversations and laughs have happened with Mamaw on one side and us girls on the other!] The smell that greets you when you step out of the car, yes, in the yard, is a smell of love! Prepared love! Baked loved! Gravy inspired.... you get the image. If you can sneak into the house and by the recliner housing a snoozing Papaw without Mamaw actually greeting you at the door, you will walk into her dinning room and catch the Lady of the House guarding her stove and tending the pots of gold. Thanksgiving! Now, my heart is fully aware that chances are, this is not an experience I will have for my entire lifetime, which brings me to the art of Thanksgiving. My heart is truly thankful at that moment each year. Truly thankful! Like David pouring out his thankful heart into the Psalms. If I had a harp, and could play a harp, you'd hear it, because I've got the David "thanks" going on! 

Thank you should not just be a polite gesture. I am one to believe that "thank you" is very similar to "love you". I believe "tk u" should not be tossed around. It's important. Say it when you mean it. I am guilty because I try to be polite and mannerly... I say I "try". And again, Jeremy and I attempt to teach our children polite manners. But I'll be honest, I want my children to say "thank you" when they mean it; not because it's expected.  See, it's an art; to have a genuinely thankful heart.  

... in EVERYTHING give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 1 Thessalonians 5:18. 

 

I give thanks for... Jesus Christ. Jeremy. Skylar. Josie. Sloan. Mamaw. Heated seats. Quality sheets. Sonic unsweet tea. Palazzo pants... Happy Thanksgiving all!  

The Break Up

Break ups are terrible! You read about them on the tabloids while waiting to check out at your local grocery store. You read about them on Facebook. You hear about them at sporting events. It's never a positive story. My break up is no different. And to add insult to injury it was on the phone! Yes, the phone! Because I enjoy blogging and it clears my mind, let me break down the break up for you. It went down like this: "Yes, hello, I need to make an appointment for my husband." The receptionist replies with the busy time of the year, everyone's sick response of "sorry, we don't have anything today." Now in the back of my mind, I made an appointment last week and was told the same thing, only, it was added, kindly, "no appointments today, unless you're sick." Ok, I get that. My appointment was for only for prescription refill. I make it when available and roll with it. Again, I understand. Today, was a bit different. Now, I briefly explain to the office staff that he is not running fever, but it's possible he has a small staph infection on his finger. (LONG story, but trust me) and again, "we don't have anything."  "He will have to wait." Now, in falls the interesting part. I say, not with a tone, a simple person to person question, because if you don't ask, you will not know. Correct?  Me: "are the appointments booked for everyone including the nurse practitioner?"  Often with this particular office, you need to specify.  And it goes south, fast, "[HUFF]. YES." "I told YOU we were full."  ....... pause..... she just HUFFED me. A patient. Long time. Over a question. I am still wearing my Nice Hat, because in all honesty, the stomach bug has hit our house and I am too tired to be snippy. Snippy takes energy. I am all out!  After the huff and the toned YES comes this.... ready, it's THE BREAK UP.  "If the clinic's schedule or policy does not fit the needs of your family any longer, let me suggest you find another clinic to suit your family's needs." BAM. Just like that. My doctor's office broke up with my family. I'm left clinging to the phone. Shocked. Single. And now alone on the phone.  Does Dr. know she just broke up with my family?   

Now, I am running all sorts of scenarios through my mind as often you do when there has been a break up. I should have said this, I should of said that, did I offend this way, did I offend that way. One random Wednesday call ended it all; a long term medical relationship, gone.  In all fairness, due to my employment, I go out of my way to understand anyone's staff and the position and the moment. I am fully aware my family is not the only patient and never have I acted as so. I am patient when I have to ask twice for a pharmacy call; I pay my bill. But, I just got dumped! Break ups are not easy; especially when it's "sick season with three kids". 

 

Busy Badge, take II.

And then I see this.... I had to share - before I got too busy!!  (jk)

Put that "Busy Badge" away!

My pal, Haley, pinned a quote recently that I just cannot stop thinking about.  Stop the glorification of busy! My heart stopped.  - - That's it! I have waited for just the proper thing to say for ages now and that pin slapped me in the face.  Today alone because I've had that quote on my mind, I've counted three conversations with females that flashed their busy badge! (Yes, I did count and yes, I did keep the tally on a post it note.)  And this is how it goes.

I can't be alone in noticing that the women in this world uphold "Busy" like it's an honor.  In my book, "Busy" has become the most ugly four letter world in our motherly vocab; and let's just say, I use that four letter word like a sailor uses profanity!  (Do sailors really use profanity that much; say more than the average mom?) Yes, I have pulled my busy badge and flashed it - I mean FLASHED IT like a surgeon's size D at Mardi Gras. (Yikes, sorry for the illustration!)You get a group of ladies around and you will hear it. Busy. Busy. Busy. Busy. I've got this. I've got that.  I just can't because I've GOT, I've GOT, I've GOT.  It's ok to say, no thank you. But, we can't just leave it at that. We feel the urge to let you know what we've got and then if you don't buy it, just let me open my phone calendar app and show you missy prissy! (You know you've been forced to look at some mother's calendar just where she can show you just how much she has to do!!!) It used to be my children this, my kid this, my son that, my daughter beat your daughter, bumper stickers that reflect honor roll status, blah blah blah, but now, our generation has up'd the level.  We replaced our children with... busy.  Granted, people are busy.  It takes time to raise your family, keep your kids on the honor roll, tend to your household, extracurricular activities, but our generation just couldn't accept the bumper sticker, we decided to up the ante! We lie to ourselves and say it's for the betterment of our families.  But, is it really? Our children are a heritage from our Lord.  Will our families benefit from all the busy?  Don't take me wrong.  The Circus spends lots of time in the family car going from one place to the other.  It's family life.  But... have I stopped giving God the glory for all the wonderful opportunities my family and I get to share in or placed the spotlight on my "busy badge"? I'd say, I have experienced my share of spotlighting. Sigh.  I am aware that whatever we do we can choose to give the glory to God. And in all honesty, I do try. However, polishing up the "busy badge" to outshine the Maker of Heaven isn't fooling Him or anyone else.  Romans 11:36... to Him be the glory forever.  (No "busy badge" mentioned.)  Hmmmm.  So, ladies, we've got to stop the insanity and stop glorifying the busy by flashing the "busy badge".  There is only One that is righteous enough to be given ALL the glory and I doubt He's willing to share it with any "busy badge" of ours.

Tsunami warnings.

I love shoes. Not a surprise, most women do.  My closet is the home of more shoes than needed.  Again, not a surprise, as do most women,  My closet is a bit different than most.  I house my shoes in their original boxes and I am a freak about it.  The seasonal shoes are placed on the floor in their proper home.  The non-seasonal get placed on the rack high above the on-goings for the season just waiting patiently to be out and about as the perfect accessory.  And yes, the new, save the planet, recycle, shoes without boxes, messes with my head!

Now, all this to set the tone.  Friday evening, quiet around the place, and the houseplants are screaming WATER ME, DRINK, HAPPY HOUR, H20.  As I am delighting in the fact that again, it's Friday, it's quiet, and the Circus Tent is tidy, I play a little mother nature and make it rain for my green, oxygen makers.  One by one place the delight and sigh in the faux rain forest.  

This is where Friday evening begins to go terribly south. I decide to sneak in a quick, one round of Candy Crush.  [You know where this is headed don't you fellow players.]  There is NO, ONE round of Candy Crush. I am enthralled into the land of reds, yellows and pesky chocolates, when Sloan says [I'm only half listening, don't judge!!!] Mom why is the shower running. My answer, "oh, Josie must be in there".  And I'm off to sprinkled candy land.

OMW. PANIC. THE SHOWER. THE PLANT.  I have officially flooded the bathroom. But wait, my bathroom is connected to my closet/laundry room.  THE FLOOR.  THE SHOES.  Immediately, I dart over to the shower to kill the water flow, open the shower door, and there it is... TSUNAMI.  The wave of water that rolled over the bottom of my shower floor rippled like a tsunami causing the water to target my shoes. MY SHOES.  Josie, feeling the panic, darted to the dirty clothes hamper, dumped out the towels all along the rows of shoes. Her female instinct kicked in to save the shoes! She created the barrier to save the shoes.
While standing, not quiet ankle deep in the aftermath, the closet grew quiet. She and I locked eyes. Josie, in all her wit, cracks the silence with "Mom... that tsunami almost took out the shoes!"  "We had no warning!" "It could have been a disaster if it had reached the brown boots!"  

Who knew we'd experience a tsunami today?  Happy Friday all, hope everyone enjoys a disaster free weekend!      

Moments... like Miley.

Miley Cyrus.  All over the foam finger one moment and the news the next.  What was she thinking?  Or lack thereof?  She has people:  people that encouraged her; people that choreographed her; people that dressed her; people that assisted her; people that prepped her all for THAT moment at the VMA's.  And bam, it was a train wreck. You'll get no blog hate from this momma; my heart is sad.  Whether or not you're a fan, she has talent and skills that not everyone possesses. [My shower will attest to that!!] Last night for MC was a perfect example of the outcome of "people" in your ear.  You'll look great.  You'll sound better.  You'll be hot!  It will be HUGE! Well, it was huge alright. [ouch!]  Who has not been there with people in your ear? Only difference, most likely our HUGE BAM was not live at the VMA's and now the most searched item on Yahoo. [Thank you Lord Jesus for the things You don't give us.]  Place yourself in her weird, platform type

shoes for a moment. What IF your HUGE BAM moment was played live for the world to see. Over and over. Googled. Over and over.  Ok, maybe the country, the state, the county, the city, or just the eyes of few. Ohhh, you don't have a bam moment?!?!? [whatever]  Again, I am sad for her.  We all have shadows we want to outgrow, overcome, or move away from whether it be a bad decision or the moment when we acted a fool.  MC was trying to outgrow Hannah Montana and stumbled, ok, actually, plowed into the ground, but still, it's a fall. She needs grace just as I do. If you were watching that with your children and you felt the need to hide their eyes, you probably should have OR, here's a novel idea, used it for a valuable lesson (1) don't let people in your ear, (2) innocence can be lost, and (3) He has enough grace for MC and His grace is sufficient for even me!   

Pom Poms and Paul.

I was studying for the Wednesday Night Teen lesson titled The Amazing Race. Isn't this race we are running amazing! The teens needed a lesson on encouragement because let's face it, everyone, every now and again (ok, MWF, for me, I won't lie!) needs a cheerleader.  Once the lesson was penned, I applied it to my race.  We need cheer.  Paul was THE Cheer Captain I tell you. NCA girls got nothin' on him. He cheered on Timothy and cheered on Timothy.  Keep on keeping on Timmy! Get it done! You got this! God's got you. In the dark moments from dark places, Paul cheered. It wasn't like he was sitting on some park bench enjoying the view, texting Tim, while sipping from his favorite Red Straw.  He had crises.  He had responsibilities; and all the while he was running too.  BUT HE CHEERED. Let's face it, it's not like I have shed any blood in this race like my Creator. I cry out and believe the race is over when my favorite shirt is on clearance and in every size except mine!  (Isn't that annoying!) I merely, for a second, ok, maybe several minutes, remove my eyes from the Creator and trip over my own two sinful feet. BAM. Pavement. And yes, there always seem to be witnesses. (You know the ones, NOT CHEERING!!!)  It seems like I never lick the dirt in the privacy of my own track.  But then I hear, Jenny, you got this! Keep on keeping on! Get it done!  You got this!  God's got you. It's my race friends. The team. Cheering. Encouraging. Supporting. Picking out the pieces of gravel from my nostril, helping me wipe off my behind - you get the point, I don't fall graceful folks.  So, I guess all in all I am glad I don't lick the dirt on a track alone.  Who would be physically there to cheer?  You see, we ALL need cheerleaders. And cheerleaders NEED cheer captains. Good ole' Tim, he had the best, Captain Paul of God's Cheer Team. In your race, who is your cheerleader(s) and who is their cheer captain?  Take a moment today to review your race and those that have cheered you along this far. The race is amazing. Amazingly hard, fast, rocky, curvy, and steep, but bigger and louder are those cheerleaders urging you to "keep on keeping on". As you pass by your cheering section, recognize the faces, pray for their continued support and be thankful for their Fight Song!