Snoodlings

I think most of you know that I live in Louisiana, which is, as of last night, the home of the Super Bowl 44 champion team, the New Orleans Saints.

WOO HOOO!!!!  WHO DAT, INDEED!!

I didn’t grow up a Saints fan. I didn’t even grow up in Louisiana, but I’ve lived here longer than I’ve lived anywhere else and this state has come to feel like home to me and my family. We always make it a point to root for the home team wherever we live, and this Super Bowl season, we were more than happy to support the Saints.

Last night Mom came over to watch the game with us. She was not pulling for New Orleans because she’s a fan of Peyton Manning’s. We let her in anyway.

We ate jambalaya and birthday pralines-and-cream king cake (K’s birthday was Friday.):

We even had signs for both sides. The other team:

And the WINNERS:

We ate, laughed at commercials, screamed and cheered, and enjoyed being together. Even though Grammy’s team lost, I think she had a good time, too. We even enjoyed the half-time show! I think I had lower expectations so I was pleasantly surprised. I like The Who and was glad that they did all of their most familiar songs. Honestly, I was just glad they were able to stand upright. They’re not as young as they used to be. And the fact that Pete Townshend still has a rotator cuff after all that arm winding he does is nothing short of a medical miracle. Also, I’m easily impressed by bright lights and laser shows. When they announced that The Who would be doing the half-time show I knew the Saints would win. It was a sign. The WHO…WHO DAT? The Who sings “WHO Are You?” It was just meant to be.

We couldn’t decide on which commercial was our favorite. We liked the earth police. We always like the talking babies. And now I’ve completely forgotten the other commercials we liked. I’m one step away from being a member of The Who.

So WHO did you want to win last night? Did you do anything special? Did you have a favorite commercial? What did you eat? Impressed or distressed by the half-time show?

There’s a very good reason children’s Bible story books leave out some stuff. If they included everything, they’d have to come with a warning label.

I think when our kids start reading for the Bible for themselves, I’m going to suggest they start with John and not Genesis….at least until they’re a little older.

I finished reading Genesis last week as part of the “Read with Me” challenge that I’m doing with some friends. Because I’ve started Read-the-Bible-Through programs many, many times, I’ve read Genesis so many times I should have it memorized. Although the stories are very familiar, every time I read Genesis, I find something new that I didn’t see before. This time I’ve been focused on God’s plan and how people and circumstances can not thwart it.

The characters in the Bible are, well, they’re really characters. But they’re not merely one-dimensional fictional beings in a book, they’re flesh and blood people who really lived and were far from perfect. Several times as I was reading I wondered, “Really, God? He was the best you had to work with there? I’m not sure I would have gone with that choice.” Remembering that these were real people like me instead of supersized cartoon characters helps me see life from their perspectives. This time around I hurt for Leah and Rachel, imagining how painful it would be to compete with your own sister for the affections of the man you love. It’s changed my perspective on some of the more familiar stories.

Several months ago, I started an amazing online study of the Old Testament. It’s part of an incredible series that my friend Jim’s church does a couple of times a year called Secret Church. In the study, David Platt reminded me that the characters in the Bible were not given to us so that we would necessarily emulate them, but they all point to one character.  He said that the insufficiency of man points to the sufficiency of God. He continued to say that the purposes and plans of God continue despite man’s flaws. God works in spite of our weaknesses and He will accomplish His purpose.

I saw this to be true throughout all of Genesis. Sometimes His people made dumb choices. For example, Judah slept with his daughter-in-law. But he didn’t know she was his daughter-in-law at the time. No, he thought she was a prostitute, so cut him some slack. Seriously? Tamar became pregnant and consequently became part of Matthew 1 as part of the genealogy of Jesus. Sometimes, bad things happened to good people. Joseph’s brothers threw him a pit and sold him as a slave. Joseph caught a break and found a good job working for Potiphar. But then Potiphar’s wife made a move on Joseph and when he refused, she accused him of attacking her and had him thrown in jail. I think maybe the “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” quote originated with Mrs. Potiphar. You know the rest of the story. Joseph ended up with power and money and fame, but it was a long, treacherous road.

The whole book of Genesis is full of stories just like that. Sometimes God used flawed people to accomplish His purposes. Sometimes even their mistakes became the very way God continued His plan. Other times, by no fault of their own, bad things happened to good people but God’s will still triumphed. And every now and then, God’s people would do what He asked them to do the first time without question and they were blessed for their obedience. It’s easy to get caught up in their stories but then we can forget that Genesis isn’t about those characters, it’s God’s story.

Just like the people in the Bible, we have been chosen to be part of God’s story. We are the Bible’s sequel, if you will. We are a continuation of what He started in Genesis. And just like those characters, sometimes we choose wisely, sometimes we don’t, and sometimes bad things happen that we didn’t cause. But God will accomplish His purposes.

So then why does it matter what we do or don’t do? I mean, if God’s going to do whatever He wants why don’t we just do whatever we want? Well, I think that’s a very good question, because I’ve asked it myself. One of the things that I’ve learned since I turned 40 is that the more I think I know, the more I need to know. I’m wrestling through quite a few questions these days. At this point in my journey I would say that it certainly matters what we do or don’t do. Yes, this is God’s story, not ours. But He wants to include us. He wants us to play specific roles in His story. I think I sometimes forget what an amazing privilege that is. And as I play my role, I am becoming the person He created me to be. His plan is bigger than me, but because He loves me, He will use His plan to build character in me. I want to be a character of great character.

I always wanted to be an actress. Well, I have the opportunity to play myself in the greatest story ever written. Unlike any other acting gig, in this movie, I don’t have to pretend to be someone else. Instead of winning an Oscar, I want to live my life so that one day I’ll win beautiful crowns that I can lay at the feet of my Director, Screenwriter, Producer, and Leading Man. It’s the role of  a lifetime.

I want to teach my children that from Genesis to Revelation, the Bible is God’s story. One of the best tools I’ve found to help me in that goal is The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones.

Meredith recommended it and it quickly became my favorite Bible story book of all time. The writing is excellent, the illustrations are beautiful.

What I love most about this book is that every story is about God’s plan to redeem His people. Children are taught to look for God’s plan. Jesus is just as big a part of the Old Testament stories in this book as He is in the New Testament ones.  Even if you don’t have kids, I think you’d love this book.

I hope you have a great weekend. Read With Me buddies? I’m actually already behind for February so I’m hoping to play catch-up this weekend. If you’ve fallen behind schedule, don’t give up! Just jump back in where you stopped! Keep reading and I’ll see you next week!

Several of you wanted to see a picture of my pudding cone craft. It’s almost as if you didn’t believe me! I didn’t post pictures yesterday because K gave me a new camera for Christmas and I hadn’t installed the software on my computer that allowed me to download the pictures from my camera. I’m very good at remembering to “take” the pictures, I’m just not that good at doing anything with the image once it’s been captured inside my camera. But since you asked and I’m a giver and so that you’ll believe I’m not just making this stuff up just to entertain you, I installed and registered and connected and downloaded.  I’ll even share a few pictures of the kids “getting their crafty on.”

By the way, did I mention the kids thought this was a costume craft party?

Oh, look! Buzz and Prince Caspian were there!

I wonder if she’s making a Valentine’s Day card for Prince  Charming:

I’m not sure, but I think this is her “I’m humoring you by allowing you take my picture but could you hurry up? I have a life” expression:

Well, what do you know? That look must be genetic!

I made them let me take this picture of their matching outfits. We didn’t plan for them to dress alike, it just happened that way. We passed the bug t-shirt down to Jesse, brand new, complete with tags. I thought it was so cute when I bought it. B had been all about bugs: bug books, bug collections, anything insect-y. I happily handed him his new shirt and he looked down his nose at it and said, “I’m not really so much into bugs anymore.” And that’s the story of how I gave Jesse a brand new bug t-shirt.

Working diligently on their cards:

Apparently it’s doppelganger time on Facebook. (Who decides this stuff and why don’t I ever get those memos?) I’ve noticed that several of my friends have posted pictures of their celebrity look-alikes on their pages. In the above picture you can see my daughter’s doppelganger. The blonde ponytailed head on top of the red shirt? That’s not my daughter, but she looks more like her than anyone in our family does. She even has the same first name as my daughter. Before I met her, I’d heard that there was a little blue-eyed, blonde-haired girl who looked a lot like my A. And then one day, I saw her. We were standing in line at my daughter’s dance studio, waiting to have her recital photograph taken. I saw the other A and I knew that she had to be the one everyone had been telling me about. It’s a little spooky to see them together. Their facial features are slightly different, but they do look very similar.

But you guys didn’t come here to talk about doppelgangers! You came to see evidence of my craftiness. Now, just so you know, the first ones I made looked much neater and more like ice cream cones. But I forgot to take a picture. I actually made this one after we’d all finished snack, just so I’d have a picture of it. (Because I knew some of you wouldn’t be able to just take my word for it.) This is a vanilla-chocolate layered cone. I took one for the team and made myself eat it after I took its picture so it wouldn’t be wasted. Just don’t judge the cuteness of this craft by this one picture. (Think that’ll be enough disclaimers for one picture or should I have you all sign a waver? Insecure much? Yes, I’m planning to buy Beth’s new book. I just wish I spoke Spanish so I could by the one titled Hasta Luego, Inseguridad! Thank you, Arnold Schwarzanegger for making the Spanish words for goodbye hysterically funny forever. What were we talking about? Oh, yeah! The pudding cone picture):

Okay. I’d love to stay here and chat all day, but I’ve set a goal for myself. See, I’m out of World Market Milk Chocolate Macadamia Laceys but I’m not allowing myself to leave the house until my room is completely clean. Over the last few weeks it has become the dumping place for laundry that needs to be folded and put away, decorations that need to go to the attic, miscellaneous junk that confuses me, and general piles of who-knows-what. It will be interesting to see which will win. Will my love of the cookie inspire to accomplish my mission? Or will my ability to get sidetracked by lint defeat me? Stay tuned. Think of it as a little pre-Super Bowl competition excitement. Or as a sad, sad commentary on the state of my discipline and will power. I’ll let you decide.

(If you don’t hear from me tomorrow, please send snacks. And someone should probably pick up my kids from school.)

Craft day went well; thanks for asking. No one glued anything together that was supposed to stay separated. No one was overcome by marker fumes. The day could not have been craftier. The kids made all kinds of Valentine’s Day cards to give to friends and family. Several of the cards incorporated gum and candy in their designs. Ruby Jane and her little brother Jesse prearranged to give those cards to each other so that neither would miss out on a chance for a quick sugar fix. Pretty good thinking! These kids will do well in life.

My snack was a hit, thank you very much. I took an idea from the February issue of Family Fun magazine. I made instant pudding in a plastic bag according to the directions on the box and refrigerated it until it was pudding consistency. When we were ready for a snack, I squeezed the pudding into a flat-bottomed ice cream cone and then decorated the top with sprinkles. The kids loved that it looked like ice cream but it was really pudding. And for once, my craft looked like the illustration. I retract my declaration that I am not crafty. I am crafty in the arts of yummy snacks. But I can’t ice a cake. So maybe I’m not proficient in all the food crafts just yet. I didn’t invent the “food as a craft” category, by the way. Haven’t you ever seen “craft services” in movie credits? Those are the people who provide the catering for the movie sets, so see? Food counts as a craft. And Martha cooks, so there’s even more validation. Not that you asked for any.

Today is the first day in a long time that I don’t have anything scheduled during the time that the kids are in school so I’m going to try to accomplish great and mighty things during this time. Or at least change the linens on our beds.

I’ll leave you with a Little Snoodle story that made me smile.. K was helping the kids finish up baths before bedtime and he told our daughter to run and put on her pajamas so we could have story time and prayer.  She asked, “Dad, do you want me to literally run to my room or do you just want me to get there quickly?”

Okay. I need to run (not literally). Happy Wednesday!

I put a period instead of an exclamation point after that title because it’s actually meant to be sarcastic.

Speaking of sarcastic, have you heard about the new sarcasm punctuation point? Ralph wanted to know if I’d be making use of it since he claims I’m the most sarcastic person he knows. First, Ralph should meet more people. Second, if you have to explain to someone that you’re being sarcastic it means you aren’t doing it right or they’re incapable of getting sarcasm, with or without the special punctuation mark.

And now I’m sidetracked. I was talking about the title of today’s post. I’m telling Martha Stewart to watch out because as soon as I finish talking to you I’m going to….gulp…Craft Day at my friend Tanya’s. Tanya is skilled at the making of crafts. Every time I’m at her house, I mentally photograph at least one cute, creative idea that I think I can actually do myself. I am not so skilled at  the making of crafts. It’s a long, long story and maybe we’ll talk it about it on another day when I have more time.

About a month ago (Tanya is also very organized and makes use of a box of squares that she calls a “calendar.”), she asked if my youngest two could come over to make a Valentine’s craft. We can, so we are. I get to bring the snacks. I think I missed out on my opportunity to be part of the crafting process when Tanya texted me yesterday to see if I had any white tempera paint that I could bring and I told her I’d never owned my own tempera paints. I thought you had to have actual proof that you were a teacher to own your own and wasn’t aware you could just buy it over-the-counter. Apparently they sell it at stores to anyone who wants to buy it. Who knew?

So I have to leave now so that we won’t be late for the crafting. Apparently tempera paint will be involved. I’m pretty sure hilarity will ensue.

I hope you have a crafty day, too. Indulge your creative side today. Doodle on the notepad that you keep by your phone. Martha wouldn’t count it as crafting, but I will.

I didn’t really want to tell this story. But this is Ralph’s Favorite Stories week at Snoodlings and I’d already vetoed one of his choices. Plus, I told Carpoolqueen I’d tell this story as a sign of solidarity and support for the tough choice she had to make at her dental appointment yesterday.

A couple of weeks ago, I was upstairs getting ready for the day when I remembered that the garbage collectors would be coming very soon to pick up our trash. Simultaneously I remembered that K and I had cleaned out my minivan the previous evening and since then, I hadn’t seen the Starbucks gift card that had been sitting in my van’s console. These two facts go together because my husband employs the scoop method of household maintenance. When he was single and did his own laundry, he’d scoop up a pile of dirty clothes and throw them in the washing machine, regardless of the colors or make of the clothing. When I married him, he didn’t have any white clothing, only khaki. When he is dealing with paper clutter and he sees that the paper on top is trash, he is likely to scoop up the whole pile and throw it away. He threw away three debit cards in the first three months that we were married. I’m not judging him. He is probably the only reason we haven’t been featured in an episode of “Hoarders”…..yet.

So as I’m remembering that the trash guys are coming I get a mental image of K scooping up trash from the car and wondered if my Starbucks card had mistakenly found its way into the scoop. I ran downstairs in my hot pink fuzzy pajama pants, threw on the red polar fleece I had hanging in the coat closet, and hurried to the dumpsters in the back yard. It was a Starbucks gift card! Plastic gold!

I live on a military base. My neighbors and I share a long driveway behind our houses so my backyard opens into the backyards of several other families. As I was digging through our trash, I became uncomfortably aware that I was not alone in the back common area. Maintenance crews were working on a water main two doors down from me. It was mid-morning and the neighborhood was bustling with activity.  And I was rummaging through the trash can wearing crazy people clothes…and a headband.

I had forgotten all about the headband.

My daughter has a headband addiction. She probably has 75 headbands that she keeps scattered throughout our house.  I can almost always find one in my bathroom and sometimes I’ll slip one on while I’m putting on my makeup to keep my hair out of my face. I just grab the closest headband I can find and the one I’d found that morning just happened to be a Christmas one. But not just any Christmas headband. No, this is the headband I was wearing that morning:

In broad daylight.

With mismatched pajamas.

While I dug through the garbage.

And I didn’t find the gift card.

So, google me. Maybe someone was quick enough to take a cellphone picture and post it in his or her blog. Entertaining the neighbors….Just another service I’m happy to provide for my neighborhood.

And thus concludes Ralph’s Favorite Stories week.  It’s been real, it’s been fun, but it hasn’t been real fun. Just so that no one can say I didn’t write anything of substance all week, I’m posting the chicken and dumplings recipe that I was talking about on Twitter last night. It’s real, it’s good and it’s really good. I’ll also be back at some point this weekend with another book review and an update on my Bible reading plan. Plan your schedule accordingly. Until then, enjoy your Friday!

Before I tell you anything else, I wanted to let you know that God’s Will’s cat scans (or as my youngest son mistakenly prayed about yesterday, his “scat cans”) were CLEAR!! Woo hoo! Not today, cancer. Not today.

It’s my friend Ralph’s Favorite Stories Week here at Snoodlings. This is another story that doesn’t paint in me in the best possible light, which is why, most likely, it’s one of Ralph’s favorites.

Besides the one and only Ruby Jane, Ralph and his wife have two other children. Their youngest, Jesse, is  a couple of years younger than my youngest. He’s going to be an astronaut when he grows up and he’s almost as precious as my own kids. When my youngest son outgrows his clothes, I pass them on to Jesse. This may sound weird, but I am emotionally attached to many outfits that my children have worn over the years. Getting rid of their clothes that are too small is very emotional for me. I attach memories to certain things they wore. When they can’t wear a special shirt anymore, I mourn the loss of an age they’ll never be again. But when I pass clothes on to Jesse, it’s like the clothes get new life. When I see him wearing something that my boys wore, I feel happy and relive the good memories. Again, let’s not dwell on the fact that I may have issues that need addressing.

Jesse loves getting the clothes from his friends, “the big boys,” so it’s a win-win situation for everyone. In fact, he expects to get clothes from our family on a fairly regular basis. One day his mom and I were talking and she told me that during a recent cold snap, Jesse was wearing a coat that I’d passed down to him last year and he was wearing a bulky sweater under it. He was uncomfortable because the coat felt a little snug across his shoulders and through his arms. He looked at his mom with disgust and said, “We need to tell Ms. Amy (he doesn’t call me Whimzie) I need a new coat!” We laughed, but his story reminded me that I had another coat one size larger that my boys couldn’t wear anymore. I told Tanya that I’d get the coat to her when our girls had ballet practice that week. I pulled it out of the attic and put it in our coat closet, which is also the receptacle for all the things that need to leave our house (library books, purchases that need to be returned, Jesse’s coat).

Since I had the coat where I should remember to take it with me, I of course  walked out the door and went to ballet practice without it. When I saw Jesse wearing last year’s coat, I remembered that I had forgotten to bring the coat like I’d promised.

“Oh, Jesse, I’m sorry! I forgot to bring the coat.” And just as the words were coming out of my mouth, I happened to look over and realized that my youngest son was wearing the coat that I’d pulled out to give to Jesse.

You need to understand that my youngest son doesn’t really like to wear socks, shoes or outerwear. When I make the “everyone-put-on-your-socks-shoes-and-coat-call” before we walk out the door, he will almost always wait until the second that the rest of us are getting into the car to decide that he will participate in that group activity. In his rush, he will grab whatever shoes and wrap he happens to find in the coat closet. He has been seen in public wearing his big brother’s shoes that are at least three sizes too big. He has tried to use his favorite blanket in place of an actual jacket. He has even attempted to wear my shoes, but I was alerted to his choice  by the sound of him tripping down the stairs on the way out of the house and was therefore able to force him to go back and find his own shoes.

So, yes, the coat he had on at ballet practice was too small, but without thinking of how it might appear to the others in the room who didn’t know that my son had another coat at home that fit him perfectly, I called my son over to me and said, “Hey, take off your coat so I can give it to Jesse.” I think he gave one “But, Mom,” but I was already pulling the coat off of his body to give it to my friend’s child. And because my son has a flair for the dramatic at times, he shivered and slunk into a corner as if he were being punished. Like we were doing a production of Oliver Twist and he had the lead.

In my defense, we live in the South. It wasn’t that cold outside. And I’d parked directly in front of the studio’s entrance so he wasn’t going to have to trudge through the frozen tundra to get to our car. But I guess it looked a little strange. And perhaps cruel. But I really didn’t think about how it must have looked until I was talking to Tanya on the phone later and Ralph asked for the phone so he could ask me, “So you really just made your kid take off his coat and hand it over to my son and your kid walked out with nothing?”

Well, when you put it like that. But it’s not like he was wearing his swimsuit, for crying out loud!

My friend Ralph. Making me feel like a failure as a mom and a person since 2004. I can’t wait to hear what he has planned for me to tell you tomorrow.

Ever have one of those days that’s just one errand after another? A few months ago, I had one of those days. My youngest two kids don’t have school on Tuesdays or Thursdays so I try to get all of my personal business taken care of on Monday, Wednesday, or Friday….because I don’t enjoy grocery shopping with “assistance.” On the day of this story  I made returns, dropped things off, picked things up, had things refilled, and worked on my list right up to time to pick up the Snoodles at school.

This particular Friday was my youngest son’s day to be the leader in his class. (Which just reminded me that today is my daughter’s day to be leader and I don’t have a snack to bring. That changes my morning quite a bit. Okay, everyone, read faster.) When you’re the leader you get to bring a favorite picture to display, a favorite book to read, a special item to show (and tell, I guess), and a snack to share (!!! I can’t believe I forgot!!!). Fridays are also Treasure Box Day for the kindergarten set. If you’re in kindergarten and you haven’t had any major behavior infractions all week, you get to pick a treasure (aka cheap Happy Meal toy just like the one your mom finally was able to sneak from your room and throw away while you weren’t looking) from the special box of plastic Made-In-Chinas. Every Friday afternoon, the youngest Snoodles pile into the car with a little more speed and enthusiasm, anxious to show me the loot they’ve liberated from their teachers’ stashes.

As B was preparing for his moment in the spotlight as leader, I packed his snack and procured his picture and book, but I allowed him to select his show-and-tell item. The morning was crazy, as they always seem to be around here, so I never got around to asking him what he’d chosen to take to class. I remembered that I hadn’t seen his show-and-tell item when, as he entered the car that afternoon, he handed me a small silver package across the seat and with all the nonchalance I’ve ever heard in a statement said, “Here, Mom.”

This is what he handed me:

What did I do? Well, I did what every seasoned, veteran mom would do. I panicked.

Is THAT what he brought for Show-and-Tell?!?! I could see him passing the packet around giving all his friends a chance to try to pop the little “candies” out of the back of the dispenser. No, he knows that’s special medicine “for moms only” and I keep it on a high shelf in my bathroom. Plus his teacher is one of my best friends. Surely she would have called me the second that special item came into her view. Then where did he get that?!

Wait! Treasure Box Day! In my panic, and for maybe half a second, I actually wondered if he’d somehow found those somewhere and claimed them as his treasure for the day! Was this a sick joke? Or a message from his teacher? Where did he get those pills?!?!

In a moment of clarity I remembered that one of my errands for the day had been to get  a refill of “Mom’s special medicine.”  I had placed several of my shopping bags in the backseat and my newly acquired 3-month-supply of medicine must have fallen out as  B was getting in the car. Of course, then my panic escalated once again when I realized the rest of my refill could be fluttering across the pickup line of school.  With none of the nonchalance of my son, I unbuckled and almost broke my neck trying to run to the other side of the car to make sure all of my packages were secure. Thankfully, they were.

That night we went to dinner with Ralph and his wife and I was retelling the story. I don’t know why, but I was. I’m sure it had relevance at the moment. Ralph decided that he liked the idea that B had been given the pills for his Treasure Box selection and that they were our school’s subtle way of making sure that they didn’t have to deal with any more little Snoodles down the road. Ralph finds the very thought of that simply hilarious. He thinks you’d find this funny, too. If you don’t, I’m sure he’ll just say it’s because I didn’t tell the story correctly. But for what it’s worth, I told another one of your favorite stories, Ralph. Now you only have to think of two more to make Ralph’s Story Week complete.

By the way, I wonder if Ramen noodles would be considered an appropriate snack for the leader to bring. No? Instant oatmeal? Sigh. I think I just added another errand to my morning list.

P.S. And more important than anything else I’ve written today, my friend God’s Will is at St. Jude’s today for a checkup. He’s having a scan today and will get the results some time this afternoon.  Also, our friend Mike visited with my mom for a little while yesterday afternoon. The new medicine is making him sick but he was full of encouragement and wisdom and positivity, as usual. And finally, a new friend who is on the Daniel Safari Bible study with me was just diagnosed with cancer. She’ll be finding out more details in the days to come. I’d appreciate your prayers for all of these precious people.