November Ellie-isms and Zach Attacks

Zach: "Ellie, I know a song so you won't be sad. (The following was sung to the tune of Jingle Bells.) Tinkerbell and Isabel. Tinker, tinker, Isabel. Isabel and Tinkerbell!!"

Ellie: "Oh, Zach! Thank you for singing me that song. It makes my heart SO happy!"

Zach: "Me and Mommy, me and Mommy and I pick you!" (Zach's version of "Eenie, Meenie, Miney, Moe.")

Ellie: "I don't think the boys will like how it smells in here. I think we should stop breathing when someone toots."

Zach: "Daddy said not to whine, so I'm going to go to sleep."

Ellie, after seeing Christmas decorations on street lamps: "MOM! We gotta talk to somebody. The whole town forgot about Thanksgiving!!"

Ellie: "I love this show. I just love it! It makes me want to cry a happy cry."

A Thanksgiving Psalm

Shout out praises to the Lord, all the earth!
Worship the Lord with joy!
Enter his presence with joyful singing!

Acknowledge that the Lord is God!
He made us and we belong to him;
we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.

Enter his gates with thanksgiving,
and his courts with praise!
Give him thanks!
Praise his name!

For the Lord is good.
His loyal love endures,
and he is faithful through all generations.

Psalms 100 (NET)

Works for Me Wednesday: Removing Wallpaper Adhesive

Last week I asked (begged) for tips on removing wallpaper adhesive. Some of you commented, some emailed and some simply wished me good luck. Thank you, thank you for all the help!

Julie, a friend from my long ago working days, actually called her husband to help me find the best answer. We haven't seen each other in years and she's still one of my most helpful friends! So, Julie and Bruce, you get a special prize. Honorable mention goes to Erin and Kellie who both suggested I bribe friends to do it for me. Apparently the going rate is a case of beer and/or a lot of chocolate. Unfortunately, neither of these wonderful ladies live within 100 miles of me. Alas, I was left drinking and devouring chocolate all on my own. For the record, I consumed several vente white chocolate mochas and a couple mocha frapaccinos during the course of this project. Thank you, Starbucks!

And the winner is ... DIF!

Intended for stripping wallpaper, this stuff really works (as the slogan aptly states). You may remember my wallpaper came off without a hitch; it was that lovely vinyl stuff that peels in one piece without damaging the sheetrock. However, I was left with a ton of wallpaper adhesive. Hot water and elbow grease were doing the trick, but the process was far too labor intensive for a mom with two preschoolers. Enter DIF.

The instructions say to spray it on, wait 15-20 minutes then wash off with a damp sponge. I found these directions to be less than complete. Here's what worked for me.

1. Spray DIF gel on the walls. (If you buy the large "refill" bottle, you could actually roll it on with a paint roller. This might be great, but I stuck with spraying.)
2. Wait 15 minutes.
3. Using HOT water and a textured sponge, scrub the area. Some of the adhesive will come off immediately, but some won't. Scrub the whole area in a circular motion until the surface is evenly shiney and tacky to the touch.
4. Take a wallpaper scraper (a beveled razor blade with a long handle) and scrap the adhesive off the sheetrock. Be sure to do this at an angle; you don't want to damage your walls. I found using a diagonal direction works best.
5. Repeat steps 1-4 if necessary.
6. Once all the visible adhesive is removed, wipe down the walls with a soft sponge and hot water. This removes any residual adhesive.

That's it! It sounds like a lot of work, but trust me: this is the easy method!! It took me two and a half days to finish the dining room. Four years ago I did our living room, just slightly larger than the dining room, using hot water and vinegar. It took three weeks and that was with only one child, an infant who slept sixteen hours a day. Yup. This is much, much more effective and much faster.

Visit Rocks in my Dryer for more Works For Me Wednesday posts.

Mama Loves insatiable me.

Welcome to the second week of Mama Loves! I've been offline for a few days engrossed in the always more important real life -- okay, "engaging" might be a bit too enthusiastic. More accurately, I've been working on that dining room project and, by the end of the day, am too tired to sit at the computer. All that aside, I'm hoping you'll participate in spite of my recent silence and late posting here.

For more information about Mama Loves, visit this post. Remember: you do NOT have to be a mama to participate!! Feel free to use this button to mark your post, though it's certainly not necessary. Don't forget to link back here in your post and to sign the widget below. Without further ado, here's what this mama loves.

Insatiable me. How's that for pride? Let me try again.

I love how my kids can never get enough of me.

Some days this really drives me crazy, like when I can't find privacy even in the shower. I've been known to lock my children in our warm, safe house while I sit freezing on the front porch just so I could have a few minutes of quiet, personal space. Yup, some days Mama does not love this, but most days I find it awesome and inspiring.

Why don't they get tired of me? Don't they see my many, many, many, many flaws? Why don't they need personal space?

I watched them love all over me all day and then cry when we must be apart. Ellie, especially, maintains an insatiable desire to be with me. Not just with me in the same house, but doing what I'm doing and being right there with me. She can't even eat dinner without touching me. Her little foot rubs against my leg all through the meal just so she can feel close to me. Sitting next to me is never enough. She wants to be on my lap, cheek to cheek with her frizzy curls tickling my nose and her spindly arms wrapped tightly around my neck.

One day in the not too distant future, I'll have a different story to tell. My kids will be sick of me and they'll prefer anyone's company to mine. But for now I relish this time when all they want is me. To them the world is perfectly right as long as I'm there holding them. This child-like faith amazes me.

Therein lies the root of my fascination. This isn't just an all-consuming adoration; it's a faith stronger than any I've ever seen. They believe with their entire beings that I, a flawed mortal, can fix anything from a shattered toy to a scraped knee to the hurt in their hearts. They trust me implicitly with their safety, provision, unconditional affection. Never do they doubt my ability to perfectly care for them. It's incredible!

And it's what God wants from His children. What would happen if we loved God with such abandon? What if we never doubted Him? That doesn't mean we can't ask Him questions or wonder about His methods, but what if we really, fully trusted Him? What if we could never get enough of Him and His Word? What if we didn't care about anything else as long as we're with Him? Now we know God is powerful and we know He can fix anything, but do we live like we know it? Are we holding those truths in our heads or in our hearts? He's immortal and void of imperfections; he's infinitely more deserving of our faith than I am of my children's faith and yet, too often, we hesitate. We hold back little pieces of our lives for ourselves, for us to control on our own. It's so silly.

So, there you go. I love how my kids love me and how they teach me to love God.

All right, it's your turn!

Looking for tips!

Okay, people, today is the day to leave a comment. I am desperately seeking tips on removing wallpaper glue.

I abhor wallpaper. I'm not kidding. Well, let me qualify that: I abhor wallpaper in my house. More specifically, the work necessary to remove it. You can read all about my hatred and the reasons for it here and here. I also mentioned it here. Yup. It has become the bane of my existence since we bought this house from wallpaper-lovers. And now I'm in the middle of another lovely adventure with this despicable home "improvement" product.

Not long ago I mentioned our issues with Zach's room, the soon-to-be dining room. The wallpaper came off surprisingly well. Now I'm trying to get all the excess adhesive off. Got any tips? Ideas? Simply homemade tricks?? I'm all ears! I know how to get it off, but I'm looking for something a little quicker and more efficient than hot water and elbow grease.

One thing: my husband hates the smell of vinegar more than I hate wallpaper, so if your solution involves this wonder of wonders, please also include a way to get the smell out of the house before 6pm. Thanks!!

Mama Loves!

Today is the kick-off of my Mama Loves Carnival! The point is simply to celebrate our blessings, to put a positive grin on blogging. It's far too easy to be negative, so Tuesdays are the days to talk about what we really love. If I were Julie Andrews, I would belt out a classic rendition of "My Favorite Things" but my singing voice certainly is not something well-loved. I'm going to try to stick with the theme here.

As I stated before, you do NOT have to be a mama to participate. You don't even need a uterus. All you have to do is blog about something positive. Be sure to include a link back here to In the Dailies and don't forget to sign up with Mr. Linky at the end of this post. Feel free to use my nifty button, if you like, but you certainly don't have to.

Now onto what this mama loves ...

Giggles. I can't get enough of them! I will do anything to get my kids to laugh, from public humiliation to personal injury, it's all worth it if I can get one of those uncontrollable giggles that seem to bubble out of them across several octaves. It's the most beautiful sound on the planet.

Lately the greatest source of giggles is bumps. Ellie and Zach run "the track" -- you know, the loop that connects the living room to the hallway to the kitchen and back to the living room -- in opposite directions just so they can bump into each other. They burst out in happy "sorry"s then a ripple of laughter that echoes through the house as they do it all over again, switching directions, of course. Last week we walked to the post office to mail a couple packages. Because it's a bit longer walk than they're used to, we took the double stroller. I huffed pushing about 90 pounds up and down the hills between here and the village, but didn't mind a bit. Every time we hit an uneven patch of sidewalk, my favorite sound filled the neighborhood. And when that sound is in stereo? Oh! That's what mama really loves.

Okay, your turn! What do you love about being a mama? What do you love about your job? Your husband? Your life? I want to hear it!

Don't forget!!

Mama Loves starts tomorrow!! Click here for more details. Think about what's great and blog about it. My post goes up at 12:01 am. You can connect with Mr. Linky anytime after that. And invite others to participate as well!

Artuality: Expelled

Last week we rented Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed. It's a documentary starring and written by Ben Stein. Initially I thought the movie was about the theory of intelligent design. This is definitely a major element, but the crux is actually about free speech. Because many in the scientific community have concluded that evolution is a fact, they dismiss and even ostracize any one who dares challenge the theory or any aspect of Darwinian thought. Stein's point is not about which position is correct or which has the most evidence; he simply wants to preserve freedom of speech and allow an open dialog of intelligent arguments. Proponents of intelligent design (which, by the way, is different from creationism) should not be punished simply because they see holes in the theory of evolution. Professionals should not be "black-listed" for disagreeing with popular opinion, especially in fields of education and higher learning.

Why am I sharing this with you?

Heather over at L'Chaim is hosting an Artuality carnival. The purpose is to discuss where art and spirituality collide. This month's theme is movies. What movies have inspired you creatively or challenged you spiritually? I've been thinking about her questions for over a week now. After renting this movie, I have much to say, much of which piggybacks on pontifications I had during this year's election.

In the past I've been annoyed by those who make politics all about one issue, especially if that issue is something never to be changed. Call me a pessimist, a pacifist, or simply apathetic. I mean to be none of these things. But I have struggled to understand why someone can think all of America's future revolves around abortion. Or gay rights. Or the environment. Yes, these are relevant, important issues, but does our nation's well-being truly rest on just one issue? Roe v. Wade will never be overturned. Roe is actually fighting toward that end herself, but even she, the one who initiated this, cannot turn the tide. It's done. So, why make such a huge stink over something that can't be changed? And why refuse to vote for someone who agrees with you on every issue but this one? Why make a losing cause your keystone? This movie answered some of these questions for me.

In Expelled Stein follows the repercussions of believing in evolution; he traces the theory to its conclusive worldview. This leads him to Hitler's Germany. The Third Reich's beliefs and behaviors were grounded in Darwinian thought. The concentration camps began as a means of cheap labor, but quickly became ways to eliminate the "less evolved" species. The Nazis did what they did in an effort to make humanity stronger. Anyone who voiced disagreements suffered the same end as the Jews, the invalids, and "un-evolved." But these are not the actions of a few insane dictators; these same Darwinian beliefs led to eugenics here in America. These actions were based on logical, intelligent conclusions based on erroneous thought. Germany didn't stumble into the Holocaust overnight; they slowly progressed there, one faulty conclusion after another, one silenced voice after another.

The movie makes a sobering point of what happens when free speech is stripped from the people. If we lose our freedom of speech, what's next? Our freedom of religion? Our property? Our rights to education? Our rights to raise our children in the manner we think best? Where does it end?

Once again, why am I telling you all this?

First of all, if you haven't seen the movie, you should. I want you to rent it and think about it and let me know what you think.

Secondly, this movie encouraged me to investigate ripples. Everything affects something else. We may never reverse Roe v. Wade, but if we stop fighting against it, what will happen? If murdering your child in utero is okay, then why not as an infant? If it's okay to terminate the life of a Down Syndrome fetus, then why not terminate the life of an adult with the same condition? Or an aging grandfather who has also become a burden? If gay marriage is legalized, what happens next? What happens when schools are required to teach my children that it's okay? And why would it be acceptable for homosexuals to marry, but polygamy is still illegal? Where do we draw the line? How far is too far and who decides?

God decides. And it's not okay for me to sit idly by. I'm not a spectator in this life. I restrained from writing about the election because I didn't want to "influence" anyone. But on November 4th, after reading Monica's election post, I was stunned by my silence. I don't want to influence anyone? Why not?? Jesus Christ did not shed His blood so that I could remain apathetic. He did not call us to make disciples in an "un-influential" way. Maybe I can't do much, but I can do something. Even if it's just signing a petition or placing a vote, maybe just writing on this blog is enough. But I must heed the ripples. I must investigate the consequences and stand up for what is right. I must be vocal about what God says is right.

So, what movies have impacted you spiritually? How? Be sure to check out Heather's site for more on movies and faith.

The not-so-spiritual side of my day.

This morning I was basking in Scripture and the glory of God's presence. This evening I'm just trying to figure out how to fix my son's stanky breath. Let me explain.

I now know Zach loves onion rings. Before last night (Saturday) he had only had them when Burger King dropped one in our fries by mistake. Well, being the sweet mama that I am, I bought a bag from the grocery store and served them up with Corn Flake-Crusted Cod. Great recipe, by the way! Healthy, light, delicious and a definite favorite in this house. (Hmmm ... maybe I should have a spot for recipes somewhere on this site.) Anywho, I offered my own version of fish-n-chips to rave reviews from my groupies. And that was when I learned about Zach's passion for pungent food.

The Boy ate sixteen onion rings. At least that's how many I counted. He also ate some fish. By this morning the smell of onions oozed from his pores. His breath is nasty! I've brushed his teeth twice, given him a bath, changed his clothes, like, four times and forced him to eat TicTacs. Can you believe he still smells?! Oh, I love this kid, but he's going to suffocate me the next time laughs in my face or tries to tackle me with one of his infamous monkey hugs.

HELP!! Anyone got tips for killing a preschool boy's onion breath? I'm all ears.

Isaiah 55

I've been reading through the Gospels. This morning a cross-reference in John 7 sent me to Isaiah 55. One verse in particular struck me, but the whole chapter is so awesome, I'm putting it all here for you to read. Check out these promises of mercy and blessing!

"Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without cost.

Why spend money on what is not bread,
and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.

Give ear and come to me;
hear me, that your soul may live.
I will make an everlasting covenant with you,
my faithful love promised to David.

See, I have made him a witness to the peoples,
a leader and commander of the peoples.

Surely you will summon nations you know not,
and nations that do not know you will hasten to you,
because of the LORD your God,
the Holy One of Israel,
for he has endowed you with splendor."

Seek the LORD while he may be found;
call on him while he is near.

Let the wicked forsake his way
and the evil man his thoughts.
Let him turn to the LORD, and he will have mercy on him,
and to our God, for he will freely pardon.

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,"
declares the LORD.

"As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.

As the rain and the snow
come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,

so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.

You will go out in joy
and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
will clap their hands.

Instead of the thornbush will grow the pine tree,
and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.
This will be for the LORD's renown,
for an everlasting sign,
which will not be destroyed."

-- Isaiah 55 (NIV)

How cool is that? This passage contains so many wonderous truths, we could meditate on it for days. That said, I want to focus on the second verse, the one that really grabbed me by the ear.

Why spend money on what is not bread,
and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.

How often do we expel our resources on things that don't matter? Our time, our money, our thoughts, our energies ... are these devoted to bread, the Bread of Life? Or are we spending them on trivial matters? Eugene Peterson paraphrased this verse with a little more color (and a little more sugar). He asks: "Why do you spend all your hard-earned cash on cotton candy?" (The Message)

God is good for us. His Word brings us life! But too often we prefer the junk food to what is truly best for us. We're working hard to obtain that which will destroy us rather than that which will strengthen us and build us up to glory.

When we continue through the chapter, we learn His Word never comes back void. He promises that His Word will always, consistently, every single time benefit us. And He never breaks His promises. As a result even the mountains and trees will celebrate for us and the blessings we receive.

Announcements

A couple announcements ...

Heidi posted a makeover! Jump over to her site (Moms, Ministry and More) to vote on her new 'do. Poor girl has been living for two years with a bad cut, just waiting for it to grow out. And now she's letting the bloggy world decide what she'll do next. After you vote, stick around on her site a bit. She has some super encouraging posts, some that will truly challenge your walk with Christ. It's a good stop.

Also, next Tuesday I'm starting a weekly carnival! I'm thinking I'll call it "Mama Loves", but I'm not completely decided. Comment me some ideas. You don't have to be a mama to participate!

The point of it is this: Take one post a week to celebrate the good. It's far too easy to think of the negative side of things. I'm a stay-at-home mom and many of you are, too. The isolation (common to writers as well, which many of you also are!) can drive one crazy. The constant demands, monotany with simultaneous unpredictability can leave us in a funk. But God has better plans for us! He wants us to rejoice and thrive in this high calling He has given us -- whether that calling be raising the next generation of missionaries, writing the next break-out novel or just finishing a mountain of laundry before your adoring husband comes home.

So, I'm setting up a way for us to focus on the praise-worthy parts of our life. What do you love about being a mama? What thrills you about being a writer? What's the best part of fulfilling your calling? We can all rant and rave and use our blogs for cathartic purposes, but let's offer one day a week (or at least one post!) for perpetual praise.

"Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies."
-- Philippians 4:8-9 (The Message)

So hop over to Heidi's site to vote on her hair, then come back for some positive thinking on Tuesday. I'll have Mr. Linky ready for whatever Mama Loves.

It's the little things.

The little things can make an ordinary day red-letter. Yesterday was one of those days for me and my editorial OCD.

Ellie started taking ballet in September. Since then we have scheduled every Tuesday around this event. Every Tuesday that I forget to pack a picnic, we have lunch at the Subway in the shopping center that shares a parking lot with the dance school. And every Tuesday I have entered that Subway hoping against hope that the manager noticed and changed a misspelled sign.

Since September, maybe longer, this little sandwich shop has advertised "unsweatened" iced tea. Seeing some of the characters that work there, I'm sure some of the tea may be sweat-in, so it's nice of them to offer a no-sweat option.

I really wanted to tell someone, but the sandwich maker doesn't speak English well and I didn't want to seem critical or elitist. And every time I stepped toward the counter to make a stink about it, I thought of Lynn Truss, author of Eats, Shoots and Leaves. Armed with a giant apostrophe on a stick, she picketed the movie Two Weeks Notice. This drew more attention to her than to the punctuation error in the movie's title. I didn't want attention; I just wanted sweet instead of sweat.

Well, yesterday, finally, I saw a corrected sign. Hooray! Subway now sells unsweetened tea instead of unsweatened. I'm so happy! I didn't have my camera and my phone battery was dead, so ... I'll just give you a picture of Ellie at ballet.

Mirrors (or "Sunday's Leftovers")

Each week Spaghettipie does a "Monday Morning Leftovers" post in which she recaps a tidbit of Sunday worship that continues to resonate the next day. This is kind of like that since these thoughts springboard from something our pastor spoke about this week.

For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks at his natural face in a mirror; for once he has looked at himself and gone away, he has immediately forgotten what kind of person he was."
- James 1:23-24 (NASB)

What is the reason for a mirror? To see what we look like, of course, but why? So that we can see needs to be fixed and fix it, to evaluate what's not right and change accordingly.

Ellie loves her reflection. She is constantly looking at herself -- in mirrors, yes, but also in windows, TV screens, computer monitors, glass oven doors, even brass doorknobs! I am constantly asking her to look at me when we talk, but she's far more interested in watching her own reactions and facial expressions. Like most of us, she studies her face, her hair, her nails. She always wants to be sure everything is just the way she wants it.

Now, how absurd would it be for her to spend all that time memorizing her every feature to turn around and forget she has curly hair? Or to ask me what color her eyes are because she honestly doesn't know? It's ridiculous!

And yet that is exactly what we do when we go to church and read the Bible only to fail in obeying what we've learned.

Now that's all pretty standard stuff you've heard as long as you've been a believer. But think about this: the longer you go without looking in the mirror, the worse the problems get. Imagine if we only checked our appearance once a week. By Monday we'd have bed-head and morning breath. Tuesday will inspire the new Mach-17 razor. By Wednesday that piece of broccoli would seem permanently embedded in your gums and your coworkers might be asking for additional air fresheners. And your hair? Well, dreads might come back in fashion by Saturday. Come Sunday we'd have a lot of work to do.

How often do you look in the mirror of God's Word? We check ourselves out several times a day in bathroom mirrors, but how much time do we spend reading the Bible? We can all say we don't have time; we can all find reasons not to make time. But the longer go between looking, the bigger the problems become. Our selfishness snowballs into greed and covetous behavior while can catapult us into all kinds of despicable acts.

However, if we spend time each day evaluating who we are in Christ and what He requires of us, then our damage control is much more efficient. Instead of repelling others, we can attract them to the Truth.

Reason # 4713 why I Love Being a Mama

Monkey hugs.

Zach is the best at these. At almost three and a half, he can still give the most cuddly, melt-in-your-arms hugs. He's never had the baby chub most kids do; he's tall and lean. He doesn't look squeezable, but he's an expert, an irrisistible bundle of affection -- when he wants to be. Sometimes treasures warrant their value by being rare. Oh, but I would revel in his hugs a hundred times a day, if he'd give them. Instead, he prefers the sneak attack. When I'm least expecting it, he'll jump up and wrap his arms, legs, neck and head as tightly as he can around me. I don't even have to hold on. He's my little chimpanzee, using his whole body and soul to show his love.

I wonder ... how different would my life be if I gave God monkey hugs? What would change if I wrapped my body and soul around His Word and His will? What if I offered uninhibited affection toward Him? Too often I reserve my praise for "safe" situations, like at home alone or only with other like-minded people. What if I didn't think about what others thought before shouting honor to God? Before thanking Him for His blessings? For answers to prayers I was afraid to speak? What if ...

As a sidenote, I don't actually keep an itemized list of all the reasons why I love being a mama, but that's not a bad idea! I always encourage new brides to keep a journal of the reasons she loves her man. On the honeymoon, it's easy to remember how he makes your heart flutter, but I guarantee there will be days that make you wonder why you married him. The journal is for those short-term memory days when you need a little help seeing the best part of your mate. Mamas definitely have short-term memory days too! Why did I decide to quit my job and stay home? What possessed me to have more than one? How much longer until bedtime? Oh, yeah, there are definitely days I need to remember why I love being a mama.

If you're a mama, what's your favorite part? If you're not, how do you give God monkey hugs?

21 Days

In good old Indiana, where I was born and raised, drivers immediately pull over at first sight of an ambulance (or a police car, fire truck or funeral procession). But things are a little different in Jersey. Here the traditional response is to speed up and outrun the emergency vehicle or proceed as normal until they catch up to you. Then most people pull over a few inches, just enough to let the lights and sirens squeak by. Some, though, never move over. I think it's an attitude thing. If the guy really wanted to get to the hospital, he should have timed it better. I was here first. Besides, there are EMTs in the back of that thing; he'll be fine.

When I first moved here, I held tightly to my Midwest training, but soon encountered the ridicule of friends and insults from other drivers who didn't understand why I would inconvenience them and their schedules just because some poor fella needed medical attention. Before long, I too was complaining about being late. I would pull over several times a day for these noble reasons only to accosted by drivers who wouldn't let me back in traffic! (This is why those who do pull over only do so a few inches. If you pull all the way onto the shoulder, you could be stuck there for hours until a gracious citizen admits you back onto the road or a nearsighted grandma decides to stick to the speed limit.) The lesson learned, I've acclimated to East Coast driving standards.

This week when I noticed an ambulance in my rearview mirror, I kept driving. I watched and waited. I didn't want the kids to miss seeing the cool flashing lights. Eventually he caught up.

"Hey, kids! Look out Ellie's window. An ambulance is coming by! Isn't that neat?"

"Um, Mom? Shouldn't we pray for the people inside?"

Nothing corrects perspective quite like a child speaking truth.

When Ellie was much younger, before Zach could talk, I taught her to pray every time we saw an accident. I haven't done that in a long time. My mind has become cluttered with so many other things that I just haven't thought about it. I am more enthusiastic about showing my kids flashing lights and super cool construction trucks than I am showing compassion and living an exemplary life of prayer.

They say it takes twenty-one days to form a habit. Ellie got it down in much less. She has a beautiful habit of prayer, a wonderous habit of compassion. Those disciplines are more impulsive than habitual with me. Hopefully, though, her habits (learned from someone ...) can rub off on me (again).

Found while purging ('Fro Me to You)

In a former lifetime I was an artist. A magnet school in Philly accepted me as a fine art major, specializing in drawing, painting and color theory. I even taught the subjects briefly at a boarding school in Switzerland.

But those days are long, long past. My portfolio and a random collection of works have collected dust in every home we've occupied. Well, we're running out of space, so last weekend I started another round of purging. Extra sheets, never-used towels and too-small clothes were all tossed into the "donate" pile. Then I bumped into my box of past-life treasures. There, tucked randomly in a box of charcoal sketches, I found this:

Can you find me? It's not terribly difficult considering there's only one blond female in the photo, but, for those who really can't tell, here's a close-up.

I can't remember exactly when this was taken, but I'm guessing around 1988. I think I was twelve or thirteen, but I really don't remember and, unfortunately, there's no date on the picture. But it had to be before fourteen. That was the age when I finally gave up the lovely Annie-like perm that was so popular back then.

Disregarding the date, here's what I know about the who and where. It was a family vacation with his, hers and ours. That's my dad. The little guy in front of me is my younger brother, Ted. (You may remember him from this post.) Sitting between me and my step-mom is my half-brother, Andrew. The rest (Melinda, Eric, and Kevin) were siblings I gained when Dad and Donna got married (and lost when they got divorced a few years later). We were in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. The first week of our vacation was spent on a houseboat on some big lake down there. That was fun. The rest of the time was spent camping between Dollywood and the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina.

We didn't realize until after the photo was framed and hanging in the family dining room that certain animosities may have surfaced. Take a gander at the aim. Yup. Ted's shooting Donna, Dad's shooting me, and both my step-brothers are gunnin' for my father. Huh. Well, at least we've got plenty of alcohol to tend the wounded and comfort the mourning.

For more blasts from the past or stories that make your family look like the Cleavers, check out We Are That Family and the 'Fro Me to You Carnival.

Thank my mother

I want to say so many things about this year's presidential election -- about the campaigns, the candidates, the issues and the results -- but it would be unwise for me to say any of it without further prayer. Fortunately for you, my mother called this morning. That poor, dear woman listened to me rant and rave for over an hour. This was after I had very loudly and passionately chased my husband around the house forcing him to endure my opinions. He had to leave before my thoughts were exhausted, so Mom became my next caged audience. Oh, she loves me so! If you see her today, thank her. She did you a great service! While I'm still feeling quite passionate about this, the steam has dissipated. Maybe some day I'll share all of my thoughts, but right now only one thing seems important.

We must pray for President-Elect Barack Obama. Not just him, but we must pray fervently and consistently for all members of our government.

It doesn't matter if we voted for them or not. God has given these leaders their positions and we must petition the Lord to help them handle the responsibilities with wisdom and moral responsibility. I really don't think anyone truly knows what they're getting into when they run for office. Maybe they do. Regardless, the trials will be great and every President needs help. Let us stand with our leaders before our Lord.

"Our God, your name will be praised forever and forever. You are all-powerful, and you know everything. You control human events-- you give rulers their power and take it away, and you are the source of wisdom and knowledge. You explain deep mysteries, because even the dark is light to you."
-- Daniel 2:20-22 (CEV)

Go vote!!

I'm sick and pretending I'm not. My day's plans include attempting to ignore a croaky throat, cotton-like mouth and impassible nasal passages and then going to vote.

Let me encourage you to get out there! Much is at stake with this election.

I'll not tell you whom to vote for, but I will ask you to handle your civic duties with sobriety. I've heard many (my own husband even) claim our votes don't count. Some believe the election is already decided. Others (like us) live in an area so thoroughly one-sided that, thanks to the electoral college, our votes will be counted, but will not given the right of impact. We can either vote with the majority or be drowned out by them. Some even joke that we should intentionally vote for the loser so we can claim it's not our fault when the country goes further downhill.

All of this thinking bothers me severely. The campaign is over, but the election is not. Polls mean nothing. They're "best guesses" and little more; they're a few people's opinions. But your vote, my vote, these mean something.

Get out there, rain, sleet, snow or 85 degree weather! Suffer through whatever you must. Voting is a privilege we Americans miserably take for granted. Yes, we have been granted this honor, so take advantage of it.