Wednesday, April 08, 2015
Thank you sir, may I have another?!?
[Disclaimer: This post could be just a nightmare from which I'll awaken and it will have never happened...]
So it seems that after living in Louisiana for more than four years now, no one is going to show up on my door with a law license for me just because I'm a (sometimes) nice person and I'd be a real asset to the legal community here. Aaaaand....it doesn't seem likely that I'll be able to trade in my Alabama, Mississippi, or Florida license for a Louisiana license. I'd do a three for one deal but apparently it doesn't work that way. Aaaand....clearly we're not moving back to Alabama anytime in the foreseeable future. SO....that only leaves one option if I ever desire to practice law again....
take the *%&# Louisiana bar exam.
(insert manic scream here)
When I walked out of my last bar exam a little more than ten years ago (which was my third bar exam in so many years....all different states mind you....and I passed them all thankyouverymuch), I said emphatically "I will NEVER ever ever ever ever ever ever ever EVER in a million years take another exam of ANY KIND again EVER!!!! I don't ever even want to do an eye exam EVER! If my driver's license was to get suspended and I had to take an exam to get it back, I'd tell them to kiss my grits and I'd get me a bike with a basket!"
Famous. Last. Words.
Sort of like saying "my child will NEVER ________ (eat only mac-n-cheese three meals a day) (use a pacifier until he's four) (wear a Buzz Lightyear costume to church)."
Riiiiiiiiight.......
The truth is, I'm scared to death to attempt another bar exam after all these years. ALL THESE YEARS of endless Little Einsteins, Dora, and now Jessie and Good Luck Charlie episodes. I fear I've eaten way too many grilled cheese sandwich crusts and suffered such sleep deprivation that has impaired my ability to generally form coherent sentences, much less be able to decipher fact patterns and analyze applicable law. I worry about putting the burden on my family now that is the craziness of studying for a bar exam. It's sort of like childbirth. The memory of the actual pain isn't easily recalled but the scars are there to remind you that you did it and it was hard....and yet you survived. And some of us do it again. And again. And again.....
The greater truth is I'm scared not to do it. I'm afraid if I continue putting it off, I may never go back to the law. And that's a reality that is beginning to make me sad.
I recently looked at a copy of a previous Louisiana bar exam just to get my sea legs back and I started to get a nervous tic as I read through some of the questions. But I can do this....right?
Right?????
Sunday, March 01, 2015
A (Sad Little) Bunny Tale
About six months ago Catherine and her BFF got on a serious bunny kick. As in...talking about bunnies, checking out books at the library on bunnies, wanting any type of clothing with bunnies (thanks a lot Mini Boden), even calling each other bunny. It was kinda cute. And totally a passing gig we figured. But then they came up with a plan to go in together and get a bunny and share custody. They even started picking out names. Because BFF's parents are good friends (and across the street neighbors), I think we started discussing our potential shared grand-bunny one night over a glass of wine and I think I recall it went something like this....
N's parents: SO....it seems that N and C have a big plan to get a bunny. What are y'all's thoughts on it?
C's father: As long as the bunny lives at your house and you take care of it and pay for it and feed it and clean up after it and call it yours, we're all for it.
The End.
And we probably poured another glass of wine and changed the subject to cheese.
So one Sunday afternoon last fall N's mom texted me and asked if C and I wanted to go with her and N to the pet store to check out the bunny adoptions because she had kind of caved and was getting N one for her birthday. And we decided that it would be a fun girls outing for all of us AND curb C's desire for a bunny since her BFF would be getting one! (By the way, bunny adoptions are a THING....these litter box trained bunnies are available for adoption for a small fee, criminal background check, drug test, and psychological evaluation). (Kidding! The fee isn't that small).
So anyway we get to the pet store, and N (and C) fall in love with a white bunny named Boogie and Boogie ends up leaving with us....and (of course) going to live at N's house because, well, it was her birthday present after all. And all hers. Operative word being "all". When we got to N's home and got Boogie unloaded and settled in his new digs (that was NOT C's house), reality set in and it was all just too much. C ran from their house in tears, across the street, where she flung herself on her bed in a heap of tears. I ran after her and found her sprawled out on her bed bawling.
I sat there, stroked her hair, and told her how sorry I was that she was so disappointed. I told her I understood how very much she wanted a bunny, but today was N's day....and Boogie was her birthday present! And, as she continued to cry, I opened my mouth and what came out was something like this...."....and even though today wasn't your day to get a bunny, that day WILL come, I promise...soon....you'll have your very own bunny....I PROMISE." And I looked up to see Andy in the doorway violently shaking his head and arms NO!!!!!!!!!!!!
The hysterical crying continued a while longer....but I finally got him calmed down by assuring him that the bunny obsession would pass. Catherine seemed to be ok too....because I gave her an estimate of how long it might be before she got her own bunny. I told her there was no way we could get a bunny until we get the garage cleaned out and make room for one. (Knowing full well that project was probably years down the road because it's nothing for us to walk around piles of crap in a garage for that long).
Well, the bunny dream has not faded one bit. And when she made out her chore chart a few weeks ago, one of her "extra" tasks she wrote in was "CLEAN OUT GARAGE." She has bunny pictures all over her room, and she even drew and painted a bunny, framed it, and gave it to me for Christmas. She insisted I put it on my nightstand....presumably so the last thing I see at night and the first thing in the morning is the picture of her dream....that we're quenching and stomping to bits.
The thing is, we said nine years ago that nothing else was coming in the house that eats or poops, and we got Stuart. Then a few years later we said it again, and we got Mochi. Andy says we mean it this time. For realz. But I don't know.....a litter box trained rabbit that lives in the garage, doesn't bark, and only eats 1/4 cup of food and the occasional carrot seems like the lowest maintenance thing we'd have going on around here.
Anyone care to place a bet on what the Easter bunny's gonna leave this year?
N's parents: SO....it seems that N and C have a big plan to get a bunny. What are y'all's thoughts on it?
C's father: As long as the bunny lives at your house and you take care of it and pay for it and feed it and clean up after it and call it yours, we're all for it.
The End.
And we probably poured another glass of wine and changed the subject to cheese.
So one Sunday afternoon last fall N's mom texted me and asked if C and I wanted to go with her and N to the pet store to check out the bunny adoptions because she had kind of caved and was getting N one for her birthday. And we decided that it would be a fun girls outing for all of us AND curb C's desire for a bunny since her BFF would be getting one! (By the way, bunny adoptions are a THING....these litter box trained bunnies are available for adoption for a small fee, criminal background check, drug test, and psychological evaluation). (Kidding! The fee isn't that small).
So anyway we get to the pet store, and N (and C) fall in love with a white bunny named Boogie and Boogie ends up leaving with us....and (of course) going to live at N's house because, well, it was her birthday present after all. And all hers. Operative word being "all". When we got to N's home and got Boogie unloaded and settled in his new digs (that was NOT C's house), reality set in and it was all just too much. C ran from their house in tears, across the street, where she flung herself on her bed in a heap of tears. I ran after her and found her sprawled out on her bed bawling.
I sat there, stroked her hair, and told her how sorry I was that she was so disappointed. I told her I understood how very much she wanted a bunny, but today was N's day....and Boogie was her birthday present! And, as she continued to cry, I opened my mouth and what came out was something like this...."....and even though today wasn't your day to get a bunny, that day WILL come, I promise...soon....you'll have your very own bunny....I PROMISE." And I looked up to see Andy in the doorway violently shaking his head and arms NO!!!!!!!!!!!!
The hysterical crying continued a while longer....but I finally got him calmed down by assuring him that the bunny obsession would pass. Catherine seemed to be ok too....because I gave her an estimate of how long it might be before she got her own bunny. I told her there was no way we could get a bunny until we get the garage cleaned out and make room for one. (Knowing full well that project was probably years down the road because it's nothing for us to walk around piles of crap in a garage for that long).
Well, the bunny dream has not faded one bit. And when she made out her chore chart a few weeks ago, one of her "extra" tasks she wrote in was "CLEAN OUT GARAGE." She has bunny pictures all over her room, and she even drew and painted a bunny, framed it, and gave it to me for Christmas. She insisted I put it on my nightstand....presumably so the last thing I see at night and the first thing in the morning is the picture of her dream....that we're quenching and stomping to bits.
The thing is, we said nine years ago that nothing else was coming in the house that eats or poops, and we got Stuart. Then a few years later we said it again, and we got Mochi. Andy says we mean it this time. For realz. But I don't know.....a litter box trained rabbit that lives in the garage, doesn't bark, and only eats 1/4 cup of food and the occasional carrot seems like the lowest maintenance thing we'd have going on around here.
Anyone care to place a bet on what the Easter bunny's gonna leave this year?
Friday, February 27, 2015
Five Reasons It Stinks To Have a Lawyer Mom (or Dad)
I was originally going to call this post "Five Reasons I Hate Articles Listing Five Reasons Why...". I mean....really. Why is it that every single article or blog post you see anymore starts out listing a number of things you should do or say or eat or wear? It kind of makes my skin crawl. Almost as much as hair salons named for a play on the word "hair." Hair You Go! Hair We Are! The Hairafter! (the absolute worst). Or EVEN worse, salons or barber shops that cutesy spell "cut"....Kuttin' Loose! Krazy Kutters! We Will Kut. You. (kidding...I've never seen that one but I might actually like it.). Not sure how I got off on this tangent but while I'm on my pet peeves, another one is having to listen to someone chew a banana but I'll save that for another post. Because it's not my only issue with bananas.
I started thinking about why it probably stinks to have a lawyer parent (or heaven forbid parentS) when one of my law school friends posted a hilarious letter from his daughter pleading her case to have her little sister evicted from her room. His response was classic. It's not my story to tell so I'm not sharing it here, but it made me think about how from day one LK's (lawyer kids) don't stand a chance.
I remember when my oldest was about two years old we were riding in the car with a friend of mine when little guy asked for something and I said no. Being two and being very good at it, he asked again. Again I said no and when he started to ask a third time I reminded him that I had said no and it was "non-negotiable." My friend laughed and said "he doesn't know what that means!" I looked in the rear view mirror and asked "William, what does non-negotiable mean?" He sighed loudly and explained "it means really, really no." So there's that.
Now that they're older, they really don't even get as far as the second request for something before I shut them down with "Asked and answered!"
Then there's the fact that most lawyers have seen and heard everything....we expect the worst. So when our kids meet a new friend and want to spend the night and we don't know the parents, we remember that case we had where the dad was found in a camper with no pants on making meth. So, NO! Wait...maybe that was a tv show. But the point is, we've seen it all. We're naturally skeptical and we question everything. And believe nothing. And that stinks when you're a kid trying to plead your case.
There are probably other reasons it stinks to be a LK and I'm sure I didn't list five but I already said I hate those lists. Besides, I'm hungry. I think I'm going to go kut up a banana.
I started thinking about why it probably stinks to have a lawyer parent (or heaven forbid parentS) when one of my law school friends posted a hilarious letter from his daughter pleading her case to have her little sister evicted from her room. His response was classic. It's not my story to tell so I'm not sharing it here, but it made me think about how from day one LK's (lawyer kids) don't stand a chance.
I remember when my oldest was about two years old we were riding in the car with a friend of mine when little guy asked for something and I said no. Being two and being very good at it, he asked again. Again I said no and when he started to ask a third time I reminded him that I had said no and it was "non-negotiable." My friend laughed and said "he doesn't know what that means!" I looked in the rear view mirror and asked "William, what does non-negotiable mean?" He sighed loudly and explained "it means really, really no." So there's that.
Now that they're older, they really don't even get as far as the second request for something before I shut them down with "Asked and answered!"
Then there's the fact that most lawyers have seen and heard everything....we expect the worst. So when our kids meet a new friend and want to spend the night and we don't know the parents, we remember that case we had where the dad was found in a camper with no pants on making meth. So, NO! Wait...maybe that was a tv show. But the point is, we've seen it all. We're naturally skeptical and we question everything. And believe nothing. And that stinks when you're a kid trying to plead your case.
There are probably other reasons it stinks to be a LK and I'm sure I didn't list five but I already said I hate those lists. Besides, I'm hungry. I think I'm going to go kut up a banana.
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Just Because
This past week we traveled back to Fairhope to attend the funeral of our friend who finished her battle with ovarian cancer. At 36-years-old. With two little girls and a husband who adored her. And a church and entire community who feel deeply the loss of this sweet, wonderful soul.
We moved away from Fairhope four years ago and in the past four years I've only seen Nicole a handful of times. The last time I saw her was in June after she was already on hospice. I sent her a message after I left and told her that there was so much more I wanted to say to her and the thing I didn't want to say was goodbye. I told her that what I wanted to say was that I remember all the times she invited us over for dinner just because....and how I remember that her home was always open. Her door was literally always unlocked and because they lived right next to the little park where I always took my babies, she would remind me often that if we needed a bathroom, or water, or a popsicle, to just come on in...even if she wasn't there. I told her that I remember the time she called to say she had made a huge pot of chicken soup and she was bringing some over to us just because she thought we might enjoy it. There was no reason of the kind that I usually only take meals to someone...no one was sick, no new baby, no real reason. It was just because. I remember the times she would tell me to bring my babies over to her house to play and leave them there if I might have some errands to run alone. That's like winning the lottery for a tired Mama of littles! There was no real reason for me to have to do that...it was just a treat. Just because. I told her I remember the day before my oldest started kindergarten when she came by to bring me a copy of The Kissing Hand because she thought I might not have one and I just had to read it to him that night. She guessed correctly and I read that book with him every night for the next two weeks....then read it again with my second...and then my last baby.
I was talking to a friend last night who didn't know her and as I described Nicole and talked about her, I told him how she just loved with her whole heart....everything and everyone. She loved with abandon. Whether you were a new friend, an old friend, or just a friend of hers on Facebook, she made you feel welcome, loved, and accepted for who you are. You didn't have to be anything special for her. You only had to be who you are. And as I've thought about all the things that made her so wonderful and endeared her to so many people, I've realized that in her short life she accomplished what many people work a much longer lifetime to achieve. And most never do.
Nicole was 34 when she was diagnosed with a devastating disease with an even more devastating prognosis. For two years she lived with the knowledge that barring a miracle she wouldn't see her girls grow up. For two years she fought this horrible monster that left her unable to care for her family, something that before cancer she did so lovingly and so well. I've thought a lot about this over the past couple of years, but probably not as much as I should have. I've thought about it when I felt like I was trudging through the ordinary, mundane tediousness of everyday life in a family with small children....loads of never ending laundry, dog hair in the corner of every room, scattered clutter throughout the house, contant meal preparation. The "yuck" of every day that just seems to go on and on with no end in sight and no hope of completion. Ever. And sometimes I would stop to think about Nicole and was hit with the guilt of realization that Nicole would love to have my dirty clothes, dog hair, and what-to-fix-for-dinner-again dilemmas as her "yuck". And at those times I thanked God for the yuck.
But the amazing thing about Nicole was that she thanked God for her yuck too. She managed to see a blessing in it when most people would only see the burden. That was just the way she was. Cancer didn't bring that out in her. It was already there. As a friend of ours says, when you're squeezed what is going to come out? For Nicole it was God, gratitude, and grace.
There were so many things Nicole did "just because". I want to love with that same abandon that she had. I want to see the good in people and love them for what they are and not expect them to be anything else. I want to look for ways to show love and grace and compassion and kindness with a smile to the people around me, not because it's expected or because I feel obligated....but just because.
It's the "just because" that really shows love. In our last written message to each other, Nicole told me that the one thing cancer had taught her was to say exactly how she felt....and she told me she loved me. Funny thing is, she never had to say that. It's something I always knew.
The other morning after weeping on and off for a couple of days I turned on the radio and realized it was the just the kind of song that Nicole would have turned up full blast, and she would have sung at the top of her lungs, and she would have danced not caring what anyone thought. And even though we were still in our pj's, and even though our waffles were burning in the toaster, I grabbed my kids' hands and we laughed and sang and danced around the kitchen. Just because.
It's the "just because" that really shows love. In our last written message to each other, Nicole told me that the one thing cancer had taught her was to say exactly how she felt....and she told me she loved me. Funny thing is, she never had to say that. It's something I always knew.
The other morning after weeping on and off for a couple of days I turned on the radio and realized it was the just the kind of song that Nicole would have turned up full blast, and she would have sung at the top of her lungs, and she would have danced not caring what anyone thought. And even though we were still in our pj's, and even though our waffles were burning in the toaster, I grabbed my kids' hands and we laughed and sang and danced around the kitchen. Just because.
Nicole Teague
June 26, 1978 - September 9, 2014
Friday, August 29, 2014
Let's Talk
I feel like I need to do a follow up to my blog post
that spread around like wildfire the other day.
It nearly got more hits than my entire blog has for the past eight
years. Between the link to Rod’s post and this website, there were a lot of comments and a lot of
judgment about the fact that my 7-year-old even has an iPod.
For the record, not that it matters really, but my husband
and I did not purchase any of the devices they have. One has an old iPhone (with no phone) and a kindle and the others have very old iPods. They were gifts. Could we have said no? Absolutely!
Do I wish we had? Not
really. The fact that they have the
devices was not the point of my article nor is it the issue here. Having the iPod for entertainment - to play games, to listen
to music, to use the walkie-talkie app they love, to take pictures of their
dogs and make movies of their Lego creations - none of that is the problem. We try to regulate and balance the amount of
time they spend with these things but give me a break….we just returned from a
nine hour road trip to and from Florida and I would have gouged my eyes out had
they not been able to Cut the Rope and Craft Mines in the back of that
minivan. Maybe some other kids entertain
themselves with quiet rounds of I Spy and reading classic novels for hours on
end. Mine don’t. On
that same trip they also ate Lunchables and had some blue box macaroni and
cheese. Send me to mommy jail.
I did experience a parent fail moment and that was why I
posted the article. To maybe save
another parent from the same sad, tearful conversation I had to have with my
little boy. For another point on the
record, we don’t even have cable TV. We
have a subscription to Amazon Prime and we did have Netflix until we realized
it was redundant with the Prime account that I can’t and won’t cancel because I
like having paper towels and coconut oil delivered to my door in two days. But guess where my son heard the word
that led him to the search on YouTube? Cable
television in our condo from the vacation we just returned from. Not even cable with HBO or any other channel
like that - just regular run of the mill cable TV.
I could (and perhaps should) have disconnected it in the
rooms where my children were hanging out but honestly it didn’t cross my
mind. Mainly because my oldest son only
wanted to watch Duck Dynasty and they were all excited about watching Full
House and America's Funniest Videos and Jessie or whatever non-stop. As
far as I saw, that’s all they watched when we were all even there. Was he channel
surfing and heard it? Or was it on a
show he was watching? I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. He heard it, he searched for it, and the rest
is blogger history. It's all over regular TV you know. Porn that is. Let's call it what it is. I was watching Miss America with my daughter last year and the network showed a preview for something that sure enough looked like porn to me.
No, my fail wasn’t in allowing him to have a piece of
technology, even though some may disagree.
My fail was in knowing there was a small crack in the boat and filling
it in with Elmer’s glue. I knew there was
the capability on that iPod to get on the internet through what we believed was
a strong filter. For the last point on
the record, my husband is an IT professional and this was the strongest filter
we knew of. We had tested it and it had
not failed. Until it failed.
My main point of the article and my mistake was in abandoning my responsibility as a parent and entrusting it to someone (something) else. And in saying we need to "soldier up" as parents, I mean that fighting this war starts in our own
homes. Porn is an ugly word. In all honesty my stomach turned just seeing
that word in the same sentence with the reference to my precious little
boy. It’s so ugly that I was shaking as
I hit publish and put that article out there.
And it’s so ugly that no one wants to talk about it.
But it’s the elephant in the room.
It’s the elephant in our living rooms. It’s the elephant in our schools. And it’s the elephant in the pew next to you
at church. Parents, we need to be
talking about it. And if you’re in the
ministry, particularly children’s and student ministry, and you’re not talking
about it, you’re really contributing to the problem. We need each other! Like my friends and I discussed, because we
are neighbors and our children spend so much time at one another’s homes, we
need to be in solidarity. We need to
know what our kids' friends are allowed to have and see at their homes. We need to know how much unfettered access they have to the internet at school and church. Yes church! Because even if your kids don’t have access to any devices at your home, even if you don’t get a single television or movie
channel in your home, even if they have no access to the internet whatsoever -
if they go to school, or to someone else’s house, (or a condo at the beach!), chances
are great that they will have access. We simply can’t escape it because it’s there
and it’s all around us. All we can do is the best we can do. We need to talk about it. And then we need to do.
Keep the conversation going, friends.
Note: I received
many, many emails from friends and strangers in response to this article who
had similar experiences. There are some great resources out there:
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Soldier Up, Mom
A few weeks ago an article went viral on my Facebook feed
entitled “The Day My 10-Year-Old Discovered Hardcore Porn on his iPhone.” As one Mom after another shared and commented
about how frightening and horrible it was and wondered what do we do to prevent
it, I commented on several of those shares (perhaps a little smugly and
proudly) that WE had installed an excellent filtering program on all of our
devices that even filters YouTube. I
most likely left the impression that WE have no worries in this house, that our
kids can watch their iPods and kindles, even those annoying Minecraft how to
videos on YouTube, and WE don’t have to worry about them seeing filth.
Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG.
I could have entitled this blog post “The Day My 7-Year-Old
Discovered Porn on His iPod” but it might look like I’m trying to one-up that
other Mom. Which I’m not. Because, trust me, this is one Mom competition
I’d rather lose.
So YES we have this supposedly great and awesome filter on
all of our devices and we pay about $70 a year for it. Look, I’ve been on my computer trying to shop
for a swimsuit at Lands End and the filter blocked me. Annoying, yes. But assuring. I remember thinking wow….if I can’t even get
on here and see the tummy-sucking-miracle-fat-hiding-mawmaw-swimsuits, my boys
will NEVER be able to discover Victoria or her Secret. And I’ve
been on YouTube trying to see how to quickly defrost CHICKEN breasts, and it
blocked several videos AND ads that probably had nothing to do with fowl or a
thawing method. Again I remember
thinking, good. This is really good. Nothing to worry about.
Then last night happened.
My youngest son was visibly shaken as he was getting ready
for bed. I knew something was wrong when
I saw he was wearing his flannel pajamas with the mountain bears printed all
over them on one of the hottest August nights this month. He
seemed almost disoriented and I asked him if was sick as he was trying to
quickly crawl into bed and pull the covers over his head. He
then reached over to the bedside table, grabbed his little iPod, and tossed it
to me saying he doesn’t deserve it anymore because he is bad. “I’m bad, so bad….I saw bad things.” My heart started racing and I felt like I had
been punched in the gut. Because I knew
where this was going. Very calmly and
quietly I assured him he was not bad and there was nothing in the world he
could ever tell me that would make me think he was bad. “What did you see, sweetheart?” I asked. After about ten minutes of me coaxing it out
of him, with a wobbly still-tiny-smidge-of-baby-left voice he told me he was
searching for a word he had heard and he spelled it for me. T-t-i-s.
(I quickly unscrambled and knew what he meant). He went on to tell me he searched for this on
YouTube (the app is not even on his iPod….he must go through the “filter” app
to access it!). He told me he saw
pictures and videos.
My stomach turned. I
ran through all the “How To” files I’d stored away in my mind. You know those files….situations you’ve
thought about as a Mom and how you’d handle…you file them away for another
day. Usually one you hope will never
come. Turns out I didn’t have a file
for this. Because I honestly thought we
had done everything on the front end to keep it from happening.
I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled him close and
started talking to him from my broken heart.
I asked him if he knew what that word meant before he searched for
it. He said no. I told him it is a very crude and ugly word
for something that is not crude and ugly.
I told him what the proper word is and I asked him if he knew why God
made them like that on women? He said
no. I told him it was the miraculous and
wonderful way that God made women able to feed their babies. I told him how every woman who has those is
made to feed a baby, and those women in those pictures and videos are either
already someone’s Mommy or they will be one day. And what God meant for a beautiful purpose is
twisted and made into something very wrong and ugly by those pictures and videos.
We continued to talk and then we prayed together and I left
him to sleep as I walked back to my room for a sleepless night. I cried for the ugly, messed up, twisted, and
sick world out there that I can’t protect my children from. I cried for what he had seen that I couldn’t
un-see for him. I cried because I had
abdicated MY parenting duties to some stupid computer software that I thought
would protect my children. I cried
because I can never get back that bit of innocence he lost way, way too early. I cried as I went onto YouTube, put in that
same search and saw just the thumbnails of what he had to have seen. I just can’t bring myself to actually click
on the videos. I cried because, when I
went in to check on him later, he was curled up with Big Bear in one arm and his
little blue and white checked blanket in the other. He’s still a baby.
I’m mad now. And I
really hope my anger continues to burn because I need it to fuel my diligence. I need my guard to be up and to stay
up. This is no longer a battle friends,
it’s an all-out war. It’s a war we’re
fighting for the minds and futures of our children. I know there are those who would say I’m
being overly dramatic, that I can’t put my children in a bubble, blah blah
blah. I don’t care. I will do whatever it takes to protect my
children until their minds, bodies and emotions are better prepared to grasp,
filter, and sort through the warped and ugly parts of our world that are
pulling on them. I will continue to pull
back and hold on for dear life. Don’t
do as I did, friends. Don’t trust some
computer geek working for a software company to care a flip for or protect your
kids. Do as I am doing now. Uninstall any and all browsers or video apps
on your kids’ personal devices and set the restrictions where they can’t
install apps anymore without asking you first. Have one central computer in a public area of
your home that they may use, with permission, and still with filter software
installed. But remember that’s not the
first line of defense in this war.
You are.
Sunday, August 03, 2014
Things I'm Loving This Summer
I was starting to get sad that summer is coming to an end with school starting and all. I was saying that I never remember as a kid going back to school in August. It was always after Labor Day when we went back to school. Summer break is supposed to be three full month of sleeping late, beach going, pool baths, and popsicle stained faces. June, July, and August...that's summer! So as I was so sad that we're supposed to be back in school mode and strict(er) schedules in another week or so (because even though we homeschool, we follow the local school calendar), we decided to book our beach vacation in August. So it really made no sense to start school and then go on vacation. And it makes no sense to come back from vacation and start school immediately. What DOES make sense is to go on vacation, come back and recuperate, and then start school after Labor Day. Just like the good old days. Kicking it old school this year, y'all.
So in celebration of my continuing summer break, I wanted to share some of my favorite things right now. Because all both of you might be amused and vaguely interested.
EOS Lip Balm
Oh My Gosh! I was in Dallas a few weeks ago and saw this multi pack of these little round lip balms while I was out shopping. It came with a bonus water bottle which I really needed, and because we are lip balm addicts in this house (and lip balm snobs), I'm always searching for the perfect lip balm. I can call off the dogs now because the search is over. This is THE best. Ever. The flavors are amazing and it leaves your lips feeling great. And it lasts a long time. These are little round containers of yummy goodness, y'all. Just don't carry it around in your pocket. Looks weird. And you're probably thinking I'm weird for being this hyped up over lip balm. You might even think I'm selling the stuff or getting some commission or kickback. But, alas, I'm not. I'm just a fan. With moisturized lips.
A Work in Progress: An Unfinished Woman's Guide to Grace (by Kristin Armstrong)
I read this book a few years ago and it was one of those books that you find at just the right time, with just the right message. I have re-read it at least four times since then, and am now facilitating an online book club, reading through it and discussing it with friends from all over. It's a wonderful, easy read that doesn't require a lot of time but inspires a lot of thought and soul searching. And yes, it's Kristin Armstrong who was married to Lance. And yes, she and I would be best friends if we just lived closer, I just know it. I can't recommend this book enough. I give it as gifts, and it's never further away than my nightstand when I need to be reminded what I'm really striving and reaching for every day, and it all comes down to letting every area of my life be marked and defined by grace. And I'm not getting any commission from this either, but probably should, as many copies of these book that have been bought by me or because of my recommendation!
Rowing Machine
So yeah, it's quite a jump from lip balm to a book to a rowing machine. But I LOVE this thing! First of all, it comes apart into two pieces that can easily be stored out of sight, but easily put together when it's time to exercise...thereby reducing the urge to hang clothes on it like we did with the elliptical machine we used to have. But I also love the fact that you can get a killer workout in jut 30 minutes, working your core, your arms, and your legs all at the same time. I'm all about multi-tasking in the shortest amount of time possible. It's also a great workout for runners, and it makes me feel less guilty when I don't make it outside in the thousand percent deep south humidity for a run. But the best thing about it is that it's something the whole family can use. In fact, the monitor has several "games" on it where you play by rowing faster or slower, which moves your little fish up or down in order to avoid being eaten. So when my kids want to play video games, sometimes this is their only option. Winning! And again, not getting paid for this review. Just wanted to share the fitness love.
Jamberry Nail Wraps
So ok....a few months ago I noticed one of my good friends from law school was posting constantly about these things on her Facebook page. Quite honestly I thought she had lost her mind. All these crazy, patterned nail wraps...polka dots, paisley, floral, stripes....I thought, what in the world? Who would wear something like that and why does she keep posting all this stuff? I don't even paint my short, stubby nails and haven't in years. Ain't nobody got time for that when you're chasing three kids around all day! So I sure wasn't interested for me. But I do have a fancy painted nails loving nine-year-old daughter who ruined one of my best towels a while back with bright pink nail polish. UGH!!! Made me s'mad!
So I started taking notice of these wraps and thought it would make a great birthday present for the towel destroyer. But since I couldn't decide on one pattern, I was going to buy several of them. But then it occurred to me that maybe I could host a party for my friend and get some for free, or at least at a discount. So I called her and she asked me if we had even tried them yet....I said no....and she offered to send me a sample. Well, we got these cute little sample wraps in the mail, put them on a few of our fingers and I watched my daughter dance around the house saying this was the best thing EVER. I even put the teal polka dots on my fingers and I have to admit, it was SO cute! AND....it matched my favorite Tiffany cup which was just a bonus happy. And in the span of about an hour I had gone from just ordering, to hosting a party, to selling them myself. Because I thought wow, if there are more people like me whose daughter has ruined their good towels, they're going to think these are the greatest things ever too!
And yes, I actually DO make a commission off of these. But I also love them and think you would too. And I don't know what has surprised me more....the fact that I'm selling nail wraps, or the fact that I'm wearing polka dots on my fingers....and loving it!
Go here to learn more about Jamberry... and save your towels!!! http://www.julieralph.jamberrynails.net
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