I like to call it “Baby Stank.”

I realize that, technically, Baby Stank is not a flavor, but an aroma. A massive one. One they should harness and use in the next biological warfare weapon. Oh, yeah, you could wipe out an entire city with that funk, I do believe! <shiver>

On the row below Hubby and me in the very crowded gym, a family was seated, holding an oh-so-cute little boy, probably less than a year old. He was really cute, but wait…

What the…

What’s that smell??!

Oh, you mean that green cloud hovering over our heads?

Um, yeah. That would be it.

It was unmistakable.

It was <Dun, Dun, Dun!> Baby Stank.

As we fanned our programs in the hopes of steering said cloud away, we burst out laughing and reminisced about the good old days. The days when your precious one has laid the mother lode in his pants and you have left the diaper bag in the car. Which, by the way, you had to park a mile away. But you would only be gone 45 minutes, right?

Trust me, honey, that is time enough for your child to lay a load the size of Mt. Rushmore in his pants. And time enough for it to start fermenting…and disseminating its bouquet to the immediate surroundings.

Every couple of minutes, they would shift said baby, from Mama, to Daddy, to Grandpaw and the scent would waft anew. Or then, they might start bouncing him in time to the lovely music the band was playing. Surely that poo smell was about to knock them out too? Right? Could they possibly be immune?? Somehow, they managed to pretend that nothing was happening. <shakes head in disbelief>

But we were all on to them.

At one point, the lady seated next to me gave me a look. Cocked head. Raised eyebrows. Wide eyes. Yes, she had smelled it too. And so had her daughter next to her, who had asked her mother, with a confused look, “What is happening? Is something happening??!”

There was simply no escape.

So, between fits of uncontrollable, stifled laughter, we endured, er, enjoyed the concert and thanked God we no longer had children in diapers.

This phrase has been haunting me a little bit in recent days.

It is possibly because it is every other song on the radio in this season (Happy Christmas/War Is Over by John Lennon) or because of my LCD, but more than likely, it is because there is some truth there that I am supposed to be “getting”. Otherwise, that is not the particular Christmas song that would be looping in my brain.

SIDEBAR: My most favorite Christmas song is O Holy Night. I particularly enjoy Josh Groban’s version…not only because he is my baby brother’s identical twin, but because his voice is like butter—velvety and delicious.

View and Discuss—Bro on the Left, Gro on the Right:

Am I right? Scott has totally been mistaken for Josh Groban on several occasions. They are similar build as well. It is kinda creepy.

But I digress…

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, or more accurately, on that newly discovered planet Keplar 22B,  since its release in 1971, you have heard this song. Now, it is not my favorite Christmas song at all. In fact, I find it kind of depressing. It’s not a warm and fuzzy song, in my opinion. And it doesn’t even have anything to do with Jesus. Mainly, it seems like it is a song that was written as a war protest, and I’m not even sure that the “what have you done” part is so much suggesting we go out and serve the homeless dinner as it is “what have you DONE to those poor Vietnamese caught in the midst of war” kind of statement. But there is something about that “What have you done?” that just gets me and stays in my head.

Isn’t Christmas supposed to be all silver bells and ribbons? Twinkling lights and hot chocolate? Nativity scenes and Baby Jesus? Baby, it’s cold outside and snuggle up to the fire? Yes. It IS those things. But what else?

So this is Christmas. And what have you done?

What have I done?

Have I given a thought to those who will be lonely this season or mourning a recently lost loved one? Have I given a coat to someone in need? Or a smile? Have I hugged someone or encouraged someone? Have I prayed for those in need? Have I given of my time, finances or talents to be a blessing to others? Been to those places where Jesus would have me go?

So far, I have only been to the vast shopping centers of Atlanta, Georgia.

Clearly, I have some work to do.

Things that make you go, “Hmm.”

I know! It was rather disturbing.

According to Emma, this seems to happen at regular intervals. Really? I guess I hadn’t really kept count. She reminded me that I had been flipped off and/or sworn at before. At the four-way stop.

Oh, the accursed four-way stop!

South Carolina, in my personal experience, is (in)famous for their four-way stops. I find them kind of annoying and feel that there are just way too many of them. Are the DOT people just too lazy to put in a stop light? Or is it because they are too cheap? It’s hard to say. But it seems to me like everyone is sitting there at their own personal stop sign, waiting for the next person to go.

You go. No, really, you go. Okay, I’m going. Wait. No, YOU go….It’s like some weird game of chicken. Only no one seems to know the rules.

Except me. <wink>

Yesterday, at one of our most famous four-ways here in Cackalacky, I was under the impression that it was my turn to go, but apparently the old dude in the big honkin’ Ford F-350 disagreed. So, as he blew on through the intersection he shook his head at me and mouthed some ugly words…yes, I could tell what he said, though I won’t repeat it here. Ford F-350 trumps The Edge every time, so I gladly allowed him to go on his not-so merry way.

I just want to know why people are so uptight and cranky. And what is their hurry?? I tell my kids all the time, you are NEVER in so much of a hurry that you need to drive like <insert your favorite NASCAR driver’s name here—I usually go with Dale Earnhardt for some reason, which is not good, because, bless his heart, he is no longer with us>…that is, unless you have a pregnant woman about to give birth or someone bleeding profusely in your car, in which case you should have called 911 anyway. So again, there is no need to drive like a bat out of hell. Slow Down, People!

SIGH.

What have we learned here? 1. Four-way stops are dumb. 2. Be very suspicious of old Santa-looking dudes who drive big honkin’ trucks.

Moving on.

December rolls crazily along here. I am looking very much forward to the break (Come on, December 16th!) where we can relax and enjoy the sights, the sounds and the joys of the season and celebrate Jesus and family. Meanwhile, we try to finish up school work, scurry to band concerts, get the tree up and finish our shopping.

I am thankful for every bit of it!

“Tradition: sit with husband in a room lit only by tree lights and remember that our blessings outnumber the lights.  Happy Christmas to all.”  ~Betsy Cañas Garmon, www.wildthymecreative.com

Things have been moving a little slow around here this morning. Emma was late to school. Jacob is really just getting cranked up now…at 10:30 am.

But can I just say…it was worth it!

I have just spent 2 crazy days shopping with my sister-in-law and another friend, almost single-handedly boosting the economy of Atlanta. Yes. From the hours of 10 am to 10 pm on Friday and Saturday, we must have walked 40 miles—probably more—through the malls and shops of the A. T. L. and made ourselves some Christmas purchases! Congratulate me on spending CASH this season! I have saved up so that I would not use our credit card this year, so that is pretty exciting.

It was exhausting, but oh so fun. My feet and lower back were on fire and I was nearly delirious, but I was a shopping fool! Laughed a lot and got lots of things crossed off my Christmas list! Enjoyed some great customer service and lots of Christmas spirit! And there are some sights to behold at the mall in Atlanta…and I am not referring to the lovely Christmas décor, ya’ll! Good times.

It was a nice getaway—something I haven’t done in about 3 years. And BONUS—everyone at home managed to survive unscathed, so, woot woot for that!

In other news, my third eye seems to be fading. About time, too! After a while, you start to feel like everyone is staring at it.

I love Christmas and all that it brings—even some of the crazy chaos.  I love celebrating the birth of Jesus. I love the music. I love finding that perfect something to give. And I love sharing it all with my family.

“The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree:  the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other.”  ~Burton Hillis

Additionally, I can hardly believe that I have stuck to my 30 days of thankfulness blog challenge! So, I would like to congratulate myself on my stick-to-ativeness. It is a rare occurrence, I assure you. So, go me. Yes, I realize I didn’t write every day…cut me some slack people!

I have to be honest and say that there were some days where I looked at my computer and wondered what I might write about because I was not really feeling it. Mmmm, Zippy comes to mind here. But, I had the intention of writing. And knowing that there are always things to be thankful for, even if you are not really feeling it, I managed to write. It’s a whole philosophy I subscribe to called “Fake It Till You Make It.” Try it out sometime.

That is not to say I am a “fake” person. If you know me in real life, you know that is far from the truth. I try very hard to be real and also try to surround myself with people who are also “real”.  But there are times when you just aren’t feeling something. And when I say “fake it till you make it” I mostly mean, “Press On and Do It Anyway and Perhaps Your Heart Will Follow and If It Doesn’t, That’s Okay Because You Did What You Needed To Do.” See what I’m saying?

But I digress…

I managed to write and I am glad. For a few reasons.

1. I was way out of the habit of blogging. And I missed it.
2. I certainly got in the practice of being thankful and looking for things to be thankful for.
3. Discipline…something I could always use more of. But that is another month’s worth of blogs.
4. Not only did I focus on being thankful, but I also was more aware of God’s goodness and mercy to me, my family and those around me.

These things I know for sure:

• I am incredibly blessed.
• I have so much to be thankful for. Maybe 30 Days of Thankfulness needs to become EVERY DAY of Thankfulness.
• God is good. He loves me, even though I don’t deserve it.
• Thankfulness is a choice; it is essential to living a joy-filled life.
• And I’m a little sad the 30 days challenge is over, but it has certainly spurred me on to remain thankful. Every day. In every thing.
• Being thankful is better than the alternative…bitterness and resentment are just not cute on anyone.

Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.  ~1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 (NLT)

You’ll recall my head injury mentioned in yesterday’s post. Yes, well, I really thought I had it covered. I walked into physical therapy with Emma yesterday and the cute girl at the desk who takes my money and makes Emma’s appointments, immediately says, with a raised eyebrow, “Girl, what did you do to your head??”

Dang. So much for camouflage!

Thanks to Emma’s therapist, who has a delightful sense of humor, I was asked about my “third eye” and promptly dubbed Cyclops.  (No, I will not be posting any pics!) Glad I’m not 13…something like that could possibly have scarred me for life, ya know!

• That said, I am thankful that bruises heal…quickly. But bruises are indeed the living embodiment of the saying about things getting worse before they get better, no? Such lovely shades of green and yellow!  Oh, and also, bruises are the “gift that keeps on giving”, are they not? So many idioms, so little time…
• I am thankful for lovely fall temperatures. Though it is cloudy out there today, I do love the cooler temps. I say, enjoy it while it lasts…winter is quickly approaching!
• I am thankful that I was able to clean up Zippy’s things yesterday before Emma got home from school. It made me sad, but I was thankful to have it done.
• I am also very grateful that I did not further injure my already jacked up back by vacuuming the area where Zippy used to live. In case you didn’t know, guinea pigs are very messy little critters.
• I was excited to learn the Spanish phrase “Vamos de compras!” today. One of the perks of home schooling is you definitely learn along with your student! It means “Let’s go shopping!” Very appropriate for this upcoming season and as I am planning to head on a shopping trip with my sister-in-law this weekend! Should be fun.

I am a little disappointed that the “30 Days of Thankfulness” are wrapping up. I am quite pleased that I have managed to keep up the regular posting for the entire month…oh, she who is the non-finisher of things. Yeah, yeah, I know there is still tomorrow.

Here’s hoping I can keep it up for one more day.

Until then, be thankful!

We had a wonderful time visiting with all our family over the long weekend. First, with my family and then, with my in-laws. We ate till our heads nearly popped off and our stomachs exploded. Which is wrong, I know, but it was yummy.

• I always find the time with my people is too short, but I am also so very grateful to have any time with them at all.  We used to live so far away from our peeps that is was difficult to make the trip for both Thanksgiving and Christmas, so we would usually forego the Thanksgiving trip. I am so thankful to live close enough now to do BOTH! Yeah!
• Honestly, I am thankful today to be in one piece.
• I am also thankful that my sister-in-law is a physical therapist.

At some point between last Thursday and Friday afternoon, I managed to jack up my back somehow.  I am not exactly sure what I did, but suddenly it was like I was really old or something.  I could barely stand up straight. I was thinking, “I am too young for this.” But clearly, that is not true, because there I was having to let my nearly 83 year old mother-in-law bend over to put the leash on my dog!  I just seems wrong to be letting that happen, y’all.  Yeah, embarrassing, I know. If I needed (more) inspiration to lose weight, this certainly was a light bulb moment.  My flabby abs are needing some firming up. I am thinking my back would appreciate some support…any support at all. So I am working toward that end. My sister-in-law, a physical therapist, managed to work on my back a little and give me some things to do to try to help, but dang.  I do not have time to be down with my back. I have life to do. Shopping, laundry, Christmas decorating, school, cleaning, walking up and down stairs, etc.

For a person who does not like to ask for help, it makes for unpleasant times.

Then, if my back being all jacked up was not enough, Jacob and I were standing behind The Edge on Saturday with the hatch back open getting stuff out of the back and Jacob decided to go ahead and close it up. Sadly, my head was still in the way. Needless to say, my ailing back now has a big old goose egg on my head as an accessory. On a bright note, it did make me forget about my back for a moment. Poor Jacob felt so bad. I am pretty sure he did not mean to nearly knock me unconscious.

The irony of this is that about 10 years ago, I slammed the hatch back door of our Subaru Legacy wagon down on my SIL’s head and I have been paranoid about that ever since. Not paranoid enough apparently.

As a consolation prize, I was notified yesterday on the way back home that I won a door prize from an art show that my MIL and SIL and I went to on Saturday! I never win anything! So yay!

So, we’ve had the bad and the good and the bad and the good here over these last few days. ♪♫ You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have the facts of life.. ♫♪ Mostly good with a bit of pain and a smattering of sad. (It was hard to arrive home last night to Zippy’s things, and no Zippy.) But overall, a wonderful time with family.

And that is truly what it is all about.

This Thanksgiving Day, I am exceeding grateful to be able to spend this day with family. The crazy chaos. The kids with their cousins. The food…all the favorite dishes. The love.

It doesn’t get much better than this. Thank you, God.

Yesterday went from the excitement of a short school week and the anticipation of time with family for the Thanksgiving holiday to the agony of making, quite possibly, the most difficult decision I have ever had to make. Don’t worry, I will get to the “thankfuls”, because even in the lowest of valleys, there are always things to be thankful for. Always.

I had a sick guinea pig on my hands as we were preparing to leave town for the Thanksgiving holiday yesterday; that is, Zippy, Emma’s little friend that we got a little over 3 years ago. The thing about guinea pigs is that you don’t know they are really, really sick until they are really, really sick.  Like, on the verge of death sick. This is something I unfortunately learned yesterday. I had noticed, over the last 4 or so days, that he was not his usual energetic self. He was looking quite pitiful. Not eating much. Or drinking much. The little guy who was usually very excitedly greeting  you with his adorable little squeaking noises when you brought him a carrot was barely peeking out of his igloo.  I will spare you all the details, but looking at him, I knew it was bad. So Hubby and I ultimately decided that I should take him to the vet before we left town. Now, you can’t just take guinea pigs to any old vet. So I had to call around to find one that takes care of guinea pigs. As I explained our situation, I proceeded to break down on the phone with the girl at the vet’s office. Have I mentioned that I am a crier?

After she had examined him, the vet informed me that it was indeed very bad. Using words like, grave condition, edge of death, maybe 40% chance, no guarantees, and—you have a decision to make.

A decision. A decision—the likes of which I had never faced before.

Meanwhile, I looked at Zippy, who was struggling to breathe and barely able to hold his head up. His suffering was obvious. I saw the estimate the vet prepared for hospitalizing our precious pet and trying to nurse him, with little hope for recovery. It was steep. I spoke to Clyn on the phone about what we should do. Did I mention we were trying to leave town?

I found myself faced with putting a price tag of the value of our little furry family member. Was his life less valuable than any other? This seemed like some sort of cruel trick. Surreal. One of those, “who gets to stay in the lifeboat” problems.  And we all know, those problems have no right answers. No answers that you feel good about giving.

I was on my second box of Kleenex and, quite frankly, gob smacked. How could I make this decision without talking to Emma, who was still at school? On the other hand, how could I talk to Emma about making this decision any way? It is not a decision that a child should make. It is not a decision that anyone should have to make. Ever.

I felt very, very alone, in spite of the very kind veterinary staff. They couldn’t help me make this terrible choice. I was honestly caught off guard at the strong and uncontrollable emotions I was feeling about this little rodent, about whom I had said only the day before that I wasn’t going to take him to the vet. Yet, there I was. And there he was. And looming between us was life and death. And it was on me.

With Clyn’s agreement, I signed a paper.  The only thing I remember seeing on the paper was “this decision is irreversible.”

Irreversible.

Like Zippy’s illness. And like his death; a death which he didn’t even know was coming.

“We’ll let you spend some time with him.”

I held him and stroked his little nose like he always liked. I told him he was a good little buddy. I told him to rest easy. They took him away.

And then he was gone. Just. like. that.

Clyn told Emma when he picked her up from school about Zippy. She was so, so sad, but she didn’t say much. She just cried. And cried. And so did I.

I brought him home and Clyn made a little spot for him in the back yard. Our family of four gathered around and we said a few words. Emma made a cross out of some wood in our garage to mark his grave. Then she wrote on it in green sharpie:

♥Zippy♥

June 21, 2008 – November 22, 2011

I have to tell myself I made the right choice for Zippy. But I still have the nagging guilt of “what else could I have done?” I know it was what needed to be done, but that doesn’t make it feel any better right now.

And yet, God is still God and He is still good and I was not alone in making that awful choice and I am thankful.

• For 3 years of enjoying a sweet little pet.
• For extremely kind and compassionate care, for both Zippy and me, from the veterinary staff, delivered without judgment.
• For a quick and painless end to Zippy’s suffering.
• For the comfort offered by friends and family, which was so welcome after such a day.
• For laughter and time today with my parents and brothers and sisters-in-law and nieces and nephews, which is truly medicine for us.
• For Emma getting to spend time with her cousin, Victoria, which is fun for her and a welcome distraction.

Maybe you say, “ he was just a guinea pig, I don’t see what you’re so wrecked about.”

Well, he was our little guinea pig. Our Little Buddy. And we loved him.

• I am so very thankful for the Mama God gave me.

I am pretty sure my mom is not ashamed of her age, although she does comment on her “oldness” a lot these days.  I tell her she is not old.  Today, she is 70 years old. If I can look as good as she does at 70, I’ll be doing good! I mean, that woman has hardly any wrinkles.  Her face is as smooth as a baby’s butt. It is so strange to me to think of her as 70, though.  It sounds old, but then again, it doesn’t.  I am sure that makes no sense at all. But in your mind, your parents are just your parents; they are not an age. So it seems weird that all of a sudden they are 70—70 is not old anymore. Right?

I am thankful for my mama because she was always there for us kids. We knew that when we came home from school, she would be there.When we got up in the morning—or rather when she dragged us out of bed in the morning—we knew she would have a hot breakfast for us before we left to go to school. She gave us consistency in a childhood that was not always consistent, since we moved around a lot. She was constant. Always.

She has lived out, for 47 years now, what it means to be a faithful and devoted wife and mother and gave me an example to strive toward. She never raised her voice to our dad.  I never heard them argue. Not once. They had discussions where they did not always agree, but never fought. She did raise her voice to us kids on occasion, but we often deserved it. I’m not gonna lie, she did also bring out the belt or the yard stick occasionally (in fact, I recall a yard stick that broke when she whacked my older brother with it), but we probably deserved that too. I have only ever heard her swear once in my whole life…dropped a d-bomb, as I recall.

She has followed my dad more places than I am sure she ever wanted to in their various moves over the years. She has been home with us kids while our dad was on the road. We did not always have much money, but I never knew that as a kid. She has made food streeeetch. I can’t tell you how many tuna casseroles or salmon patties I ate growing up (have not eaten either since I got married and left home!).  She was home to deal with the day to day hard stuff that came up while my dad was not home, and with 3 kids, there were plenty of things that would have driven most people crazy.

She is reserved in public. She seems quiet. She is definitely that strong, quiet woman behind her man. She is also a woman of strong faith, who came and read Psalm 91 to me at night when I was afraid of the dark. She kept a tiny plastic pair of praying hands in the window sill above the kitchen sink which held a list of names of people she prayed for. She has always been supportive of me as a person and a mother and has listened to me cry and rant when things in my own life were getting crazy. She only offered advice when asked and never judged.

Don’t be fooled by Mama’s seemingly reserved appearances! People who don’t know her well or have only a brief chance to meet her, have no idea how funny she is and how amazing she is. And they are missing out. I’m glad I did not miss out. I could not have asked for a better mama. She is truly a blessing and I am so grateful for her.

I love you, Mama!  Happy Birthday!

“If you have a mom, there is nowhere you are likely to go where a prayer has not already been.”  ~Robert Brault