You're Welcome

Everyone is NOT welcome in my bed...Sorry...not a good idea
BUT you are welcome to sleep on the hard floor if you like.

Everyone is NOT welcome in the bathroom while I am using it!
But you are welcome to sit outside the door and cry and scream and kick the door all you like.

Everyone is NOT welcome in the bath at the same time..BIG mess!
But you can be the first in the bath and get the hot water or you can complain and be the last one and get cold, dirty water.

Everyone is NOT welcome to join  in the pot banging that I got out to distract baby and now is giving me a headache.
But you are welcome to sit in the chair over there with duct tape over your mouth and listen to what quiet sounds like.

Everyone is NOT welcome to eat the gum and other goodies that are hidden in my bag.
But I can tell you where your sister's stash is.

Everyone is not welcome to throw things when they have to turn off the Star Wars Wii game.
But you are welcome to go outside and move those 20 bricks across the yard...and then move them back.

Everyone is NOT welcome to wear MY socks because they can't find their own socks.
BUT you are welcome to learn how to do your own laundry...now there is an idea!

Everyone is NOT welcome to complain about the green stuff we are having for dinner.
BUT you are all welcome clean up while I sit on my tush and watch a little Glenn Beck.

Everyone is NOT going to love you as much as I do
BUT they would be foolish not to...

You are Welcome here! Always welcome here!

Random Post- Its

Here are some of the random going-ons at our house today.

(Not sure how to get the little boxes around the post-its off. Anyone?)

When in Rome....

Does your husband have a ceramic head?

Well, mine does.

When he was in high school, he made this plaster head of himself...only it looks like the head of a Roman soldier. He thinks it is one of the coolest things ever. I think...not so much.

I had no idea he had such a thing until several years ago when  his mother, whom I love dearly, decided that the head of her son needed a new home...OURS!  Lovely! When he saw it, he was overjoyed at the reunion of his semi-twin head.

What am I supposed to do with it?

It's not like I want it on my piano or on my book shelf. Heck, I don't even want it in my bathroom.  I try and convince my husband that we should just take a picture and get rid of it. But he will hear none of that.

For the past 5 years, it has been in a box. Then with this last move we found it and I wasn't allowed to put it back. And so it sits in my closet...watching me each day. I thought to myself this morning, "It is Easter. What better day is there to accidentally break the head of a Roman soldier?" Just a thought.

My husband, you see, is a keeper, meaning, he doesn't throw things away. He has other things too. Things that he made in high school... a metal wind mill that is actually pretty cool but is an awkward size. He made some really cool pottery: mugs and plates, but he won't let us use them. He has scriptures that are written in different languages that he keeps...just in case, because you never know when you are going to run into someone who speaks Creole and may need some scriptures. The list goes on.

I would venture to say if I "took care of things" behind his back, he wouldn't miss them. I doubt he would even notice they were missing. Heck, he has a hard time finding the mustard that is in plain sight in the fridge, let alone momentos from high school that are hidden in a box in the black hole we call our garage.

But then I would feel guilty...guilty for lying, guilty for taking and destroying something that wasn't mine to destroy. Guilty for betraying his trust. I hate guilt.

And so I look at that ceramic Roman face of my husband every morning...and think to myself, "If I out live Hubster, you are gonna be the first thing to go! Chew on that!"

He Lives!

"But Mary stood without the sepulchre weeping: and as she wept. she stooped down and looked into the sepulchre,

"And seeth two angels white sitting, the one at the head and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain.

"And they say unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? She saith unto them, Because the have taken away my Lord and I know not where they have laid him.

"And when she had thus said, she turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus.

"Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest thoug? Whom seekest thou? She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, Sir, if though have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away.

"Jesus saith unto her, Mary. She turned herself and saith unto him, Rabboni; which is to say, Master."

I can only imagine how sad she must have felt when she had come to the tomb, only to find it empty. Her Lord had been taken. I can also imagine the joy she felt when she realized the He who had been dead, was there, standing before her.

Today, the tomb is still empty. My Savior lives! He lives! HE LIVES!!

5 Unimportant Things

We all have those simple pleasures in life that make us happy, even though they are of no consequence. So I thought that I would blog about 5 of those unimportant things.

Good Music
There is nothing that can happen that good music can't get me through. I am a sucker for a good song in almost any genre.

Holding Hands
There is something about that outward display of the inward commitment. It gives me goosebumps when my sweetie holds my hand...still!

Wind Chimes
Wind chimes are a way of allowing the music in nature to be heard. I love hearing the wind singing from my front porch. It makes me smile...even if it keeps my visitors up at night. Sing wind, sing!

Freshly cut grass
It smells so good. I guess it reminds me of summertime: playing in the backyard and picnics and running through sprinklers. It is a great smell! Do you think they have that fragrance in a perfume? Hmmm...maybe not a good idea.

Baseball games
Maybe it's because I grew up playing but I love watching and playing this sport. It's a game where the individual is so important to the team. It doesn't matter your age, your gender, your skill level. Have fun! 

Play ball!!

I think that the Lord gives me these simple pleasures so that I can be happy, EVERYDAY!

What are yours?

Dear Laundry

Dear Laundry,

I don't know how to tell you this, so I will just say it. I wish that you would go away. I don't want to be your friend anymore.

For one thing, you are so needy! Everytime I turn around, there you are. I think that you are stalking me...I see you around EVERY corner in my house. You are in my bathroom, in my children's rooms. Sometimes I even find you trying to hide yourself under the couch! Oh, and what were you doing under my bed the other day! That is just WRONG!!

Even when I do pay attention to you, clean you up, brighten you up, fold you and put you away, it is never enough. There have been times when it has been required an EXTREME MAKEOVER to leave you looking your best.  But you still come begging for my attention.

Last week I decided that I was going to ignore you. I guess I thought that you would take a hint. I was wrong. There you were, with all your dirty laundry, multiplying by the minute. So this week I gave you all my attention, everyday I spent hours with you. Finally you are hardly visible in my house. But I know you are there and in due time you will be calling my name.

Consider this your eviction notice. Find yourself another friend! Don't come back until you are all cleaned up and ready to be put away!!

Adios!

Stef

Harmless Soda...

A little background first.

My mom had a brother who like to bite our ears whenever he would see us. It wasn't just a nibble either. He always had stubble on his face that felt like sandpaper. And he would try and tickle our side...but it was always too hard and so it would hurt. Then he would bite our ears. He did this so that we would remember him always. Well, it worked, but those memories of him are not fond. In fact I am still scared to hug him when I see him.

One year we had a family reunion in the mountains. We brought along our pop-up camper and we thought we were so cool. Luckily we got there before Uncle Ear Biter did and we were able to set up camp. When he finally arrived, me, my two younger sisters and younger brother locked ourselves in the camper.

We were NOT coming out! EVER!!

So there we sat...for hours. We had games to play and food to eat, pop to drink. We were happy.

UNTIL.... my brother had to go to the bathroom.

What were we going to do? He was afraid to go alone, and there was no way ANY of us girls were leaving the camper. So we came up with the only logical idea.

We dumped out the pop can and handed over his convenient latrine. We covered our eyes and he filled up the can. We placed it on the counter near the door so that when someone bigger than us came, they could throw it away.

About 30 minutes later, Dad comes into the camper, curious what we were doing. He walked it, grabbed the can of what he thought was soda and, you guessed it, took a drink. He immediately spit it out and we immediately busted up laughing.

"Do you know what that was, Dad?" we asked.

"Salt water?" he responded.

Lesson of the day, DO NOT allow your brother to bite your kids ears, or you may someday be drinking their urine.

YUCK!!!