A Question, An Insight

To my friends out in Bloggerville. What scripture do you turn to when you are discouraged?

Any insights would be appreciated.

Too good not to share

I know I posted a whiny blog this morning about not getting any sleep last night, but I've got to share this experience with you. It's just too good to keep to myself. And I mean good as in too funny not to share.

Let's start at the day after Thanksgiving. Jason and I bought a Wii on that treacherous, take-your-life-into-your-own-hands-to-shop day with the expectation of putting it on ebay and making a ton of money for Christmas shopping. Well, we listed it Monday night and needless to say, it brought a grand total of $5.43 after ebay fees, shipping fees and paypal fees. Since Christmas seems to have snuck up on everyone, the treasure HAD to be mailed today to the lucky winner, so Abby and I trekked to the UPS store after lunch.

Let me say that the UPS store in and of itself is not an evil place. I'm sure that it has many wonderful qualities, and I am not one to judge based on appearances (ahem).

When we entered the store, the line was approximately 2.25 miles long, all men who had fifteen or more boxes to mail. (I exaggerate, but with a small child, it certainly seemed like that). Since you all know that Abby had NO SLEEP last night, she was not very happy to have to mail this wonderful gaming system to someone who didn't even have the decency to bid $302.00 and instead won it for $301.01. I'm not kidding, $301.01.

Anyway, the UPS people are very wise and have placed a small puzzle table right in the store. The chair Abby wanted to sit in was of course right in the middle of the line of a million people. I let her play, but when it came time to go to the counter, I had to take her with me because we all know that there are many strange and scary folk in Easley. I didn't want someone running off with my beautiful, sleep-deprived, snotty-nosed brat--uh, I mean darling.

When I picked Abby up to take her to the counter with me, she unleashed all the fury her 18 lbs could muster and twisted and screamed and yelled. People were casting "that look" at me as I wrangled with my daughter in the line. One man even tried to make funny faces at Abby, but she only yelled and screamed what I can only assume were baby profanities at him.

The one mother who had walked into the store behind me avoided my gaze, and I'm sure she was thinking, "I'm glad it's you and not me."

Thankfully God had placed an angel at the UPS store. One of the dear, grandmother-types working behind the counter came up and placed her hand on my shoulder and whispered an urgent, "Can she have a cookie?"

"Yes, she certainly can," I told her. I know that my daughter is her mother's because any mention of chocolate and sugar (especially in the same sentence) will quieten the wrath of Abby.

The angel ran to the back of the store and grabbed a cookie from somewhere. I didn't ask where and I really didn't care where to be quite honest. Those of you who are mothers understand. She handed Abby the cookie and I said, "Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are our favorite UPS lady ever." To which the mother behind me chuckled. I wasn't kidding.

"I've got 14 grandkids," the lady told me, "and I know how to shut them up."

This kind of comment might have normally turned me off, but "shut them up" was exactly what I needed at that moment.

When Abby and I finally made it out of the store she was covered in crumbs and chocolate goop, but I didn't care.

Remember what I said yesterday about Jehovah Jireh (God provides)? Sometimes it comes in the form of chocolate and sugar.

Merry Christmas!

Up all night - but not in a good way

I remember the first time I stayed up all night. I was in maybe the sixth grade and Laurel had a slumber party. Most of you probably remember the girl in your class who threw the awesome slumber parties, the ones where everyone ate until they were sick and played games all night and made crank calls. For me that was Laurel. It was simply an honor to be invited. Oh the simple joys of elementary school.

Anyway, I can still remember the hung-over feeling I had the next morning. Since I'm Southern Baptist and a good girl, not to mention the fact that I was 12, a true hangover was not something that I could understand, but I did know that I was kind of out of it.

There was a girl named Raven at this party, and I remember thinking to myself the next morning, "Raven, Raven, Raven, that's a strange-sounding name, Raven." You know what happens to a mind when it hasn't had any sleep.

I experienced much the same feeling when we brought Abby home, except this time I was full of joy to have her home, a feeling that lasted all of two nights. I'm not saying that I don't love Abby, but after six weeks of no sleep, the mind resembles something like mashed potatoes that have been overcooked.

Well, our sweet angel has a cold, a particularly nasty cold, and she was up ALL NIGHT last night. She cried off and on, and Jason and I took shifts as best we could, me one hour, him two, me one hour, him two. I'm a very caring and considerate wife and mother; he needs the quality time with his daughter.

Somewhere about 3 o'clock, Jason and I both realized that we were being played. Yes, Abby felt bad and yes, it was hard for her to breath, but it seems that when she heard our footsteps in the hall, she got strangely quiet as she waited for us to open the door and pick her up.

I think I passed out somewhere around 4 when Jason went into the room to have a very serious conversation with our 17 month old about not playing her parents. He left this morning before I had a chance to ask him how it went.

All that to say, I've been up all night, and it was definitely not in the good, middle-school-slumber-party kind of way.

Oh man! I'm sure most of you probably think that I fell off the face of the planet somewhere, but the truth is that this holiday season has taken me completely off guard. You may remember a few months ago when I posted about wishing my house looked fantastic; well, apparently I've been bitten by some kind of poisonous bug because I've been running around like a mad woman trying to put the house in order -- not that you can tell that I've really done much of anything, but I have tried.

The thing is, there are so many things happening all at once.

Several months ago my dad announced to me and Jason that Jason had to find a new job. The money was there until the end of the year, but after that, who knew. You see, the "economic slowdown" (a phrase I hate because it understates the seriousness of the problems we are facing) has taken a huge toll on Daddy's business. They haven't had a good, solid job for several months.

We've learned a lot the past few months about Jehovah Jireh (God provides) because He has provided so miraculously for our family. Jason now has a job at Wachovia. He'll start in January as a roving teller, but thanks be to God, the pay is more than we thought it would be (not great but livable) and it is a job that allows for growth and progress.

I'm now out for Christmas break, and I'm so thankful to have this time with Abby. She growing and changing more than I have space to write. I'll post pictures as soon as I have a moment.

I'm reading Twilight and am on Breaking Dawn. Anyone out there have any comments?

Well, it seems that this post has turned more into a Christmas letter, so I'll wrap it up (no pun intended). Seriously, I'll go now before anymore damage is done.

Oh, oh, oh, let me take a moment to congratulate my beautiful friend, Meredith! She's having a baby, and I am so excited for her that I don't even have words. You're in my prayers, friend!

Okay, I'm off to do something productive...really I am...

On the road to recovery

I've got to give you a followup to the previous blog. It seems that we are on the road to recovery with Abby's bottom. It seems odd to even be posting something about my daughter's tush, but you know how life is...unpredictable at best.

It seems the trick was Lotramin (thank you to all who suggested it).

This has brought a new train of thought to my mind. How can children, who earn no money, be so dadgum expensive. Do you know that a small tube of Lotramin costs in the neighborhood of $11.00. Incredible.

My mom was very funny when I mentioned using Lotramin. At first she didn't have much to say about it, but when she saw the tube she exclaimed, "That's what your daddy uses for his athlete's foot!"

It cracked me up. I wonder if she was listening at all when I was talking about yeast and all that.

Anyway, I do so appreciate the advice. When we have another crisis, I now know where to turn.

Help!!

This is a post for all of you mommies out there.

Abby has TERRIBLE diaper rash. I'm certain it is a result of teething (and maybe too many raisins) but the fact is that when we say, "Abby, let's change your diaper" she goes into hysterics and flips and turns so much that it takes two of us to hold her down and get her changed.

So my question is if any of you out there have any suggestions about cures for diaper rash.

Please keep in mind that we're totally and utterly desperate.

Does It Make Me Weird

I know most of you are thinking to yourselves, "Yes, of course you're weird, Alicia," but that isn't exactly what I'm getting at here.

I've been wondering lately if there is something wrong with getting very irritated when you see grammatical errors in places where they shouldn't be.

There was a day in the not so distant past where I wouldn't have recognized a grammar error if it had the words GRAMMAR ERROR written beside it. Those days are gone, however, as I now teach innocent freshmen the importance of egregious grammar errors and as I encourage them to repent of their misuse of the comma and their flippant placement of the semicolon.

I heard a story about a group of young men who stuffed their backpacks with permanent markers, white-out, and erasers and headed cross-country fixing all the errors they encountered. It seems that with every passing day I find myself longing to do the same thing.

Is it problematic that when I am singing during worship I find myself mentally ticking off the spelling and punctuation errors on the screen in front of me? Does it matter that when the words every day are put together as everyday my blood pressure rises?

I ask you, when is passion for the English language gone too far?

If you can help, please respond, and if you find grammar errors in this piece, please remember that I am sick today, and I may not have proofread the text.

Thanks for listening.