It is currently May 26th, 2018 at 9:44 pm. It has been four years since Mama last posted. That's right, Mama.
Hi, I'm Hope. And I decided that I'm taking over this blog. I'm 14. Grown up, I know.
Mama mentioned something about her blog tonight. This was my first time hearing about it. Naturally, I questioned her, and read some of the posts myself. I was fairly overcome with nostalgia, but Mama doesn't need to know that. Any who, I liked the idea of continuing this blog. She said she wasn't posting anymore, and I have plenty of free time!
The last thing mom said about me in this blog was that I was belting Power in the Blood in the car. Luckily, I've continued singing. It's actually a huge part of my life now, and I don't know where I would be without it.
Naomi is in her tween years. Puberty is going to hit her soon, and it's obvious. She's cranky a hecking lot, and if often mean to me and the other two brothers. But I know that it will get better for her. I know it's tough.
Joel is now ten. I thought he was seven until a few months ago. He's much better than Mama descried in her posts. He still has him cranky moments, but he was diagnosed with ADHD and has medicine to help him. He's much better than he used to be. I remember how tough he was most times.
Daniel is turning 7 in about a week. He's been...interesting. He often misbehaved in school, but he's incredibly smart. He tends to throw fits a lot, but it's being worked on. It will be interesting to see what happens for him in the three years I'm still in this house.
Well, that's pretty much it. I don't have a whole lot to say right now, I just thought I'd update all of you guys. I really hope I can keep this going. Wish me luck.
Saturday, May 26, 2018
Friday, January 17, 2014
Hymns
It is an absolute travesty that hymns have been taken out of worship.
I know some churches still use hymnals, but in general, those churches can only very loosely be called 'churches'. Like, it says it's a church on the sign outside, but God probably hasn't set foot in them for many moons.
Ok, I know God doesn't physically have feet. It's a metaphor. Go with it.
(However, if we're created in His image, how do we know that He doesn't have a body just like ours? He walked in the Garden with Adam. Or is that just communing, not physically being present? Hmm.......)
Back on topic. Hymns. Love 'em. So jealous that Mandy and Bryn get to go to hymnsings. Liberated a hymnal from the BSF church (who, by the way, just built a new sanctuary and did. not. put. their. hymnals. in. it. I only saved my hymnal from storage.)
But more than just familiar songs, hymns are a heritage. Just as stories are passed from generation to generation, hymns connect generations of believers. And even Bryn's generation has lost that connection. My children wouldn't have known a hymn if it hit them in the face.
This situation needs remedied.
Enter a couple CDs of hymns that are played in the car whenever possible.
Yesterday, after BSF, when 'Tis So Sweet came on, Daniel yelled, "We sang this in Bible Study!" Since I helped in Childrens' that day, I knew he'd sung that, but he recognized the song by himself.
And the past few times Hope has been in the car, she's sung along. Hearing my child belting Power in the Blood warms my heart and soothes my soul.
I know some churches still use hymnals, but in general, those churches can only very loosely be called 'churches'. Like, it says it's a church on the sign outside, but God probably hasn't set foot in them for many moons.
Ok, I know God doesn't physically have feet. It's a metaphor. Go with it.
(However, if we're created in His image, how do we know that He doesn't have a body just like ours? He walked in the Garden with Adam. Or is that just communing, not physically being present? Hmm.......)
Back on topic. Hymns. Love 'em. So jealous that Mandy and Bryn get to go to hymnsings. Liberated a hymnal from the BSF church (who, by the way, just built a new sanctuary and did. not. put. their. hymnals. in. it. I only saved my hymnal from storage.)
But more than just familiar songs, hymns are a heritage. Just as stories are passed from generation to generation, hymns connect generations of believers. And even Bryn's generation has lost that connection. My children wouldn't have known a hymn if it hit them in the face.
This situation needs remedied.
Enter a couple CDs of hymns that are played in the car whenever possible.
Yesterday, after BSF, when 'Tis So Sweet came on, Daniel yelled, "We sang this in Bible Study!" Since I helped in Childrens' that day, I knew he'd sung that, but he recognized the song by himself.
And the past few times Hope has been in the car, she's sung along. Hearing my child belting Power in the Blood warms my heart and soothes my soul.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Best Christmas Present
Best Christmas present this year= a bookmark from Naomi
Not even one she'd bought. No, no. One she'd gotten for free at the checkout desk at the library.
I read. A lot. One hundred and three books in 2013, according to my Goodreads account. She knows this.
She told me she thought I probably could use a bookmark.
Not expensive, not terribly exciting, but something thoughtful and useful, not a present to give just for the sake of having something to give.
Definitely the best present this year.
Not even one she'd bought. No, no. One she'd gotten for free at the checkout desk at the library.
I read. A lot. One hundred and three books in 2013, according to my Goodreads account. She knows this.
She told me she thought I probably could use a bookmark.
Not expensive, not terribly exciting, but something thoughtful and useful, not a present to give just for the sake of having something to give.
Definitely the best present this year.
Saturday, December 14, 2013
A Happy Heart is a Thankful Heart
I know- the Veggies think it's the other way around. I'm pretty sure it goes both ways.
After the yearly facebook lets-be-thankful-for-a-whole-month bandwagon that I initially boycotted, I decided I'd join in for a few days, but with *real* things to be thankful for, not 'I'm thankful for socks' posts.
And even though I'm done with those posts, I still find myself being thankful for things I wouldn't have thought twice about before.
The other day I got an anniversary card in the mail from grandma, and I thought- I'm so thankful for a grandmother who sends cards for every holiday known to man, because these cards will not come for very many more years.
Thursday when I pulled into the driveway after taking Hope to choir and our 80-year-old neighbor was just finishing plowing our driveway with his tractor. For the second time that week. Thankful for sweet little old men who are willing to bundle up in subzero weather and plow the whole neighborhood, mainly for something to do.
Today when David got called in to work, since he took call for someone today. And next Monday. And next weekend. Simply because I said we could use the money. Don't need it- can survive without it, but he knows I feel more comfortable not taking money out of savings every month to make ends meet. So although he doesn't like to take call and likes going to work on Saturdays even less, he takes it whenever any of the hospital techs offer. Thankful.
Thankful, thankful, thankful.
After the yearly facebook lets-be-thankful-for-a-whole-month bandwagon that I initially boycotted, I decided I'd join in for a few days, but with *real* things to be thankful for, not 'I'm thankful for socks' posts.
And even though I'm done with those posts, I still find myself being thankful for things I wouldn't have thought twice about before.
The other day I got an anniversary card in the mail from grandma, and I thought- I'm so thankful for a grandmother who sends cards for every holiday known to man, because these cards will not come for very many more years.
Thursday when I pulled into the driveway after taking Hope to choir and our 80-year-old neighbor was just finishing plowing our driveway with his tractor. For the second time that week. Thankful for sweet little old men who are willing to bundle up in subzero weather and plow the whole neighborhood, mainly for something to do.
Today when David got called in to work, since he took call for someone today. And next Monday. And next weekend. Simply because I said we could use the money. Don't need it- can survive without it, but he knows I feel more comfortable not taking money out of savings every month to make ends meet. So although he doesn't like to take call and likes going to work on Saturdays even less, he takes it whenever any of the hospital techs offer. Thankful.
Thankful, thankful, thankful.
Monday, December 02, 2013
Life Lessons
A few weeks ago at BSF, someone mentioned taking bags of food whenever she went into the city to give to homeless people. She said a friend of hers had asked how she found homeless people to give them to. Um, walk down the sidewalk? She was shocked that someone could be so blind to what is all around us.
So yesterday we went into Chicago to the Christkindlmarket. By the time we got in there, it was lunchtime, so we found the closest McD's and had lunch. We were on the second story by the window, and Hope was looking at all the people on the sidewalk. She asked David why "that man is just sitting there". That was the only homeless person that I know she noticed; she may have noticed others- I saw several just in the three or four hours we were there.
Rather than driving all the way in and paying all the tolls and parking fees, we drove to the closest L line and took the train. More adventurous for the kids, cheaper, and easier than trying to find parking downtown. It was about a half-hour trip on the train, and it was pretty busy both ways.
On the way back, Hope and David ended up standing behind my seat at the back of our car. During the trip, a man walked into the car from the one behind us, and walked up to the middle of the car. He started talking and said he was licensed and bonded in something- I wasn't really paying attention since he started talking about 30 seconds after the recorded message that soliciting isn't allowed on the train. He said he was having a tough time finding work, and asked for help finding work, for any fare cards, extra food, spare change. I had packed several granola bars for the kids to snack on and we still had a few, so I dug 'em out and gave them to David to take up to the guy. Hope was in the aisle, so David had her take them over to him. He said thank you and that was it. He sat down for a few minutes, and when an older lady got on the train, I noticed that he immediately stood up and asked her if she wanted his seat.
When we got off the train, he was walking past us. As Hope passed him, he looked straight at her and said "bless you" and smiled at her. As we were leaving the terminal, she asked me if I'd heard all that the guy had said. She'd just heard him say if you have any extra food, but wanted to know what else he was talking about in the beginning of his plea.
As I thought about it later, it struck me how, when we care about a person or a cause, we want to help. Grandma would never dream of helping the mexicans, until she knew a family who needed help who happened to be hispanic. Then she bought a bunch of groceries for them and got the kids signed up for toys from the church. When we know the need of someone or something we care about, then the desire to help is usually there.
But sometimes, if we help first, then we start to care. Hope didn't care what this guy was talking about at first. But once she helped him, however minimally, then she was interested. Then she cared how he got to that point. Then she wanted to know what he had to say. Maybe that's the key. Maybe we don't need to educate society on the perils of poverty. Maybe we just need to start helping. After that, society might educate itself.
So yesterday we went into Chicago to the Christkindlmarket. By the time we got in there, it was lunchtime, so we found the closest McD's and had lunch. We were on the second story by the window, and Hope was looking at all the people on the sidewalk. She asked David why "that man is just sitting there". That was the only homeless person that I know she noticed; she may have noticed others- I saw several just in the three or four hours we were there.
Rather than driving all the way in and paying all the tolls and parking fees, we drove to the closest L line and took the train. More adventurous for the kids, cheaper, and easier than trying to find parking downtown. It was about a half-hour trip on the train, and it was pretty busy both ways.
On the way back, Hope and David ended up standing behind my seat at the back of our car. During the trip, a man walked into the car from the one behind us, and walked up to the middle of the car. He started talking and said he was licensed and bonded in something- I wasn't really paying attention since he started talking about 30 seconds after the recorded message that soliciting isn't allowed on the train. He said he was having a tough time finding work, and asked for help finding work, for any fare cards, extra food, spare change. I had packed several granola bars for the kids to snack on and we still had a few, so I dug 'em out and gave them to David to take up to the guy. Hope was in the aisle, so David had her take them over to him. He said thank you and that was it. He sat down for a few minutes, and when an older lady got on the train, I noticed that he immediately stood up and asked her if she wanted his seat.
When we got off the train, he was walking past us. As Hope passed him, he looked straight at her and said "bless you" and smiled at her. As we were leaving the terminal, she asked me if I'd heard all that the guy had said. She'd just heard him say if you have any extra food, but wanted to know what else he was talking about in the beginning of his plea.
As I thought about it later, it struck me how, when we care about a person or a cause, we want to help. Grandma would never dream of helping the mexicans, until she knew a family who needed help who happened to be hispanic. Then she bought a bunch of groceries for them and got the kids signed up for toys from the church. When we know the need of someone or something we care about, then the desire to help is usually there.
But sometimes, if we help first, then we start to care. Hope didn't care what this guy was talking about at first. But once she helped him, however minimally, then she was interested. Then she cared how he got to that point. Then she wanted to know what he had to say. Maybe that's the key. Maybe we don't need to educate society on the perils of poverty. Maybe we just need to start helping. After that, society might educate itself.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
No big deal, right? Just a scratch, or maybe something gouged my forehead right there.
Except that it's been there since we lived in Marysville.
Last spring, when it had scabbed over and then reopened enough for me to notice it and be aware that something was off, I already had an appointment with a doctor for a checkup, so I mentioned it to her.
I already knew I needed to see a dermatologist for a mole check so I added the spot to my list of complaints. I called for a consult and discovered that getting an appointment with a dermatologist takes roughly as long as human gestation.
Besides, I was pretty sure I already knew what it was. A bit of medical knowledge and access to Google makes me an expert, you see.
Skin cancer. Basal cell carcinoma.
Not melanoma, not life-threatening unless I choose to leave it alone for the next decade and see what happens, and yet...
When I used to tan, mom would get so mad at me and I'd tell her with our family history I was going to get some sort of cancer; I was just picking the type.
Perhaps not my best-thought-out plan.
The ironic part is that I always kept my face covered when I tanned. This spot is your general, run-of-the-mill, too-much-cumulative-sun-exposure skin cancer.
Makes me wonder about the other parts of my body that have had non-routine exposure.
Now that I know it's there, I just want it gone. Who wants to willingly leave cancer cells in their body? Who would knowingly ignore something so harmful?
Revelation time: SO many things can have deeper meanings!
Can the word 'cancer' mean more than just abnormal, destructive cells?
Could it mean destructive behaviors?
Could there be many more things in my body that are a type of cancer?
Things I don't notice at first, or don't realize their destructive potential?
Like yelling. Mom did it. Dad did it. I do it.
But, just like cancer, it spreads.
It starts as yelling to alert a child to danger.
Slowly, it progresses to yelling any time you need to get a person's attention.
And before you know it, your response to any situation is rage.
Not only is it your response, it becomes your child's automatic response too.
If you know it's cancer, you can cut it out before it has a change to damage and destroy. But can you always tell what cancer looks like?
Obviously not. It doesn't wave a red flag and say "here I am, come weed me out of your life!"
It- the cancerous, sinful behaviours that so easily invade- starts out so innocuous, so benign, and by the time you recognize the behaviors for what they are, they've grown into the very fiber of you, and become nearly impossible to remove.
Oh, that I would have the wisdom and insight to recognize the cancers in me as easily as the cancer on me.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Daniel Wayne you are a pain...
But it's only because you're 3. You'll get better.
He is such a sassypants lately!
Whenever David tells him no, he says "No to you, daddy!"
If he gets in trouble and I start counting, as soon as I say One, he'll say "No, two!" Occasionally he'll count himself right into the corner.
And lately whenever anyone says no or can't or won't, he says "Oh yes I can" with a sassy little voice.
Sas. See. Pants.
A few months ago I started getting him to attempt to use the toilet; it didn't last long and he didn't really care, so I stopped.
He still doesn't care.
But I'm sick of buying diapers.
And I'm sick of changing the poopy diapers.
And he's three and a half.
It's time.
So, this last week has been potty-training week.
He's almost there. By the weekend, he'll be done with diapers except maybe at night.
Ten years and six months. That's how long I've spent with someone continuously in diapers, except for two weeks between Hope being trained and Naomi being born.
It's almost over.
And I know some day I'll wish it wasn't over.
He is such a sassypants lately!
Whenever David tells him no, he says "No to you, daddy!"
If he gets in trouble and I start counting, as soon as I say One, he'll say "No, two!" Occasionally he'll count himself right into the corner.
And lately whenever anyone says no or can't or won't, he says "Oh yes I can" with a sassy little voice.
Sas. See. Pants.
A few months ago I started getting him to attempt to use the toilet; it didn't last long and he didn't really care, so I stopped.
He still doesn't care.
But I'm sick of buying diapers.
And I'm sick of changing the poopy diapers.
And he's three and a half.
It's time.
So, this last week has been potty-training week.
He's almost there. By the weekend, he'll be done with diapers except maybe at night.
Ten years and six months. That's how long I've spent with someone continuously in diapers, except for two weeks between Hope being trained and Naomi being born.
It's almost over.
And I know some day I'll wish it wasn't over.
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