Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
looking.up.randomly
things are definitely starting to look up. and this is just a list of random events. my apologies.
i took the science praxis this morning. i hate how standardized tests can make a person want to THROW up all over herself. 90 multiple choice questions. 3 essay questions. 120 minutes. earth science. physics. chem. biology. on your mark get set go. i know every.single question i got wrong because i googled them ALL when i got home. (i hate physics!!!) i just got this wild hair and wanted to do it. it was scary and expensive and now let's just pray i passed it so i don't have to do it all over again! lol.
jd and the boys went with me. we left at 5am!!! i can't even remember the last time i was up that early (well, up that early and outside). jd and i chitted and chatted the entire way, what with all my nervous energy and all. poor guy had to listen to me explain how hydraulics and meiosis work the whole way up. lol.
i felt like i was 20 again, hopping out of his truck with my two No.2 pencils heading for badgley hall. i threw up on my first day of animal behavior in badgley hall. i ate an ice cream cone for lunch and totally ralphed after roll call. it was SO embarassing. i dropped the class ;)
anyway, it's over. sigh. now i wait.
we stopped at the grande rhonde to let the boys throw rocks into the river on the way home and gage TOTALLY fell in!!! he tossed a doosy of a rock, lost his balance, and was soaked from the neck down. he landed on a rock and scraped his neck too- poor baby. has to happen at least once. thankfully though, jd was right there to nab him up :) (and the water was only, like, a foot or so deep).
it was neat checking out our old house in lagrande - and passing by all our old hang-outs. gosh, we sure felt old. jd even grabbed a real estate guide! he must miss lagrande :)
i'm just glad the whole testing bit is over.
can i get a "yee haw" for testing day being over???
YEE-HAW!!!!!!
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Happiness IS
They say you're only as {happy} as your least {happy} child.
And as must as I'd love to be the one to tell go down on record saying my kids are super-ooper {happy} all the time, I'll have to pass.
A blog; unplugged. What do you think of that title??? :)
And as must as I'd love to be the one to tell go down on record saying my kids are super-ooper {happy} all the time, I'll have to pass.
---
Happiness is a state. It's a temporary state of mind; of circumstance, perhaps. It can be heard in giggles, felt in excited touch, tasted, and yes, photographed for the mind to {see} and {remember}. Happiness is good. It's really, really good. It feels good. It tastes good. It sounds good and looks good. Maybe that's why we're all so obsessed with it!
-
I hope with all my might, that I don't portray a false sense of {happiness}. I'd love to say that if you follow this one special formula, then your life will be peaches and cream. It won't. It's not.
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Life is hard.
Living your life with purpose, is hard.
Loving hard, is hard.
Falling hard, is hard too.
Screwing up and admitting it, that's super hard.
Being a Christian is hard.
Being a mom is hard.
Spend your time {deeper}. Share your life with a button that never stops recording. Post it. Talk about it. Struggle with it. Be transparent and allow yourself to make mistakes. Learn. Talk. Learn. Share. Be {real}.
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Practicing obedience - what does that LOOK like?
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Resisting temptation - how does that read on facebook?
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Struggling with a friendship - what is the back drop behind that photo?
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Being gracious - how does that taste?
A blog; unplugged. What do you think of that title??? :)
Friday, July 9, 2010
{Crabby} in Newport
We probably aren't your {normal} vacationers. We're actually not really {normal} at all. I heard a quote once that goes "God didn't put us on this Earth to be normal". I can't remember the author but I'd have to agree with the sentiment. Normal is so totally overrated.
I think I'm just going to let these pictures tell the story of JD's crabbiness. :)
He's not flipping off the camera, I promise. I think he's trying to bowl!!! Hahahahha
I think I'm just going to let these pictures tell the story of JD's crabbiness. :)
He's not flipping off the camera, I promise. I think he's trying to bowl!!! Hahahahha
What can I say? JD caught crabs in NewPort!
hahahahahahahahahahahahah~!
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Monday, July 5, 2010
the {art} of birthing cows.
Just wondering.
Have you ever seen a calf being born? I've seen kittens and puppies...and my own children of course, but never a cow. I guess I just assumed it was similar to what all mamas go through to bring their chillins into this world. Not so.
On our trip to the coast this year, we passed by a bazillion dairy farms. One farm in particular, caught our eye. We even stopped off the side of the road for a double-take.
There, in the middle of this green pasture was a mama birthing her calf. I was so in shock that I failed to grab for my camera but the image is still so very vivid in my mind.
Black and white cow. Green field. Other cows not really {caring} what was going on. The look on her face - persistent, purposeful pain? Slight rain. Clouds. Not the greatest weather to be birthing in. She made eye contact with {me} and instantly, I felt the need to DO something.
From one {mother} to {another}. It was like a call to action!
The calf was about 1/3 {out} and it's hoof was smashed up against its face. It's tongue was dangling lifelessly out of its mouth as if to say, "I've not got much longer here". I could tell that all it needed was a lil {tug}.
JD could see the look in MY eye so he dutifully drove up a small road to the farm owner's place. He knocked on the door but there was no answer. Just as he was about to jump the fence and pull the little calf to safety, I jumped out of the truck and knocked on a second door. This time, luckily, there was an answer.
With urgency in my breath, it was all I could do to get out "There's a cow in your field and she's having a baby!!!!" I instantly knew how idiotic it sounded but I cared not. It was an emergency, after all.
This woman. Bless her heart. She took one look at me and sighed patiently.
"They do it all the time. It's natural and sometimes it takes a while".
Of course it is. Of course it does. JD claims he could see the look on my face - wind out of the sail, he describes. Shoulders sunken.
Of course.
As we drove up the road, I explained to JD how this whole 'situation' was one of my MOST embarrassing moments of all time. Just then, we slowed to notice other travelers parked along side the road. They too were in awe of this miracle and sensed the {need} to contribute in some way.
And as JD explained to me how GLAD be was that he didn't rip open some prize winning dairy cow's you-know-what like they do on city-slickers, a woman came walking up to the side of our truck.
"Does it bother her, having all these cars around watching?"
...to which JD replied "We don't know. We're just as stupid as you are".
Not really what we {meant} but definitely how we {felt}.
Just so you know. If you see a cow giving birth in a green pasture, just let it.
Have you ever seen a calf being born? I've seen kittens and puppies...and my own children of course, but never a cow. I guess I just assumed it was similar to what all mamas go through to bring their chillins into this world. Not so.
On our trip to the coast this year, we passed by a bazillion dairy farms. One farm in particular, caught our eye. We even stopped off the side of the road for a double-take.
There, in the middle of this green pasture was a mama birthing her calf. I was so in shock that I failed to grab for my camera but the image is still so very vivid in my mind.
Black and white cow. Green field. Other cows not really {caring} what was going on. The look on her face - persistent, purposeful pain? Slight rain. Clouds. Not the greatest weather to be birthing in. She made eye contact with {me} and instantly, I felt the need to DO something.
From one {mother} to {another}. It was like a call to action!
The calf was about 1/3 {out} and it's hoof was smashed up against its face. It's tongue was dangling lifelessly out of its mouth as if to say, "I've not got much longer here". I could tell that all it needed was a lil {tug}.
JD could see the look in MY eye so he dutifully drove up a small road to the farm owner's place. He knocked on the door but there was no answer. Just as he was about to jump the fence and pull the little calf to safety, I jumped out of the truck and knocked on a second door. This time, luckily, there was an answer.
With urgency in my breath, it was all I could do to get out "There's a cow in your field and she's having a baby!!!!" I instantly knew how idiotic it sounded but I cared not. It was an emergency, after all.
This woman. Bless her heart. She took one look at me and sighed patiently.
"They do it all the time. It's natural and sometimes it takes a while".
Of course it is. Of course it does. JD claims he could see the look on my face - wind out of the sail, he describes. Shoulders sunken.
Of course.
As we drove up the road, I explained to JD how this whole 'situation' was one of my MOST embarrassing moments of all time. Just then, we slowed to notice other travelers parked along side the road. They too were in awe of this miracle and sensed the {need} to contribute in some way.
And as JD explained to me how GLAD be was that he didn't rip open some prize winning dairy cow's you-know-what like they do on city-slickers, a woman came walking up to the side of our truck.
"Does it bother her, having all these cars around watching?"
...to which JD replied "We don't know. We're just as stupid as you are".
Not really what we {meant} but definitely how we {felt}.
Just so you know. If you see a cow giving birth in a green pasture, just let it.
Monday, June 21, 2010
This {little} Light of Mine...
I haven't blogged in a loooong time. Truth be told, my life is writing this story so fast I can't keep up. I've had a lot on my mind lately -
adjusting to our life with {3};
adjusting to our life with {3}+a house;
adjusting to our life with {3}+a house+a job;
adjusting to our life with {3}+a house+a classroom to empty
adjusting to our life with {3}+a house+a classroom to empty+ a different job;
Everyone else seems to be adjusting an eensy weensy bit better than I am. My {science} classroom (and all the fun experimental kinds of things that are tiny and add up faster than I can type this that come along with that word) is finally FINALLY cleaned out.
There is not one spec of {me} left in the middle school. Gone. Like a candle in the wind ~ extinguished.
My teaching license allows me to be flexible and so that's what I keep chanting to myself - "I'm flexible. Flex-eeee-blay" But my hearts keeps piping up too - this {job} is who I {am}. I've poured out myself into {it}. I've worked long and hard. It's my mission field. These middle school kids have been my mission.
Surely I cannot be the only person in the word who has ever had to {change}.
---
Today I sat on the floor of my 'office' going through old boxes of cards while the {3} slept. I came across a card that someone had given me for my college graduation 10 years ago to.the.day (God works in mysterious ways, eh?). My heart needed some words and not surprisingly, it found them in a box.
If I could give you anything as you graduate from college, I would GIVE you a candle that burns as BRIGHTLY as the light within you, the light you are...I would tell you to keep it burning, no matter what. I would say don't let the well-intentioned extinguish it. Don't let the mean-spirited blow it out. Don't let your light flicker and fade because of everyday challenges and concerns. The world is large, and no one can illuminate it alone, but it is amazing how a single candle, burning brightly can light so many others.
And so it is. I cannot possibly be the only one who feels extinguished; snuffed out; slipped away; defeated. But perhaps like me, someone's heart needs a reminder.
Press on. Push forward.
The world needs your light. Hold your candle high.
adjusting to our life with {3};
adjusting to our life with {3}+a house;
adjusting to our life with {3}+a house+a job;
adjusting to our life with {3}+a house+a classroom to empty
adjusting to our life with {3}+a house+a classroom to empty+ a different job;
Everyone else seems to be adjusting an eensy weensy bit better than I am. My {science} classroom (and all the fun experimental kinds of things that are tiny and add up faster than I can type this that come along with that word) is finally FINALLY cleaned out.
There is not one spec of {me} left in the middle school. Gone. Like a candle in the wind ~ extinguished.
My teaching license allows me to be flexible and so that's what I keep chanting to myself - "I'm flexible. Flex-eeee-blay" But my hearts keeps piping up too - this {job} is who I {am}. I've poured out myself into {it}. I've worked long and hard. It's my mission field. These middle school kids have been my mission.
Surely I cannot be the only person in the word who has ever had to {change}.
---
Today I sat on the floor of my 'office' going through old boxes of cards while the {3} slept. I came across a card that someone had given me for my college graduation 10 years ago to.the.day (God works in mysterious ways, eh?). My heart needed some words and not surprisingly, it found them in a box.
If I could give you anything as you graduate from college, I would GIVE you a candle that burns as BRIGHTLY as the light within you, the light you are...I would tell you to keep it burning, no matter what. I would say don't let the well-intentioned extinguish it. Don't let the mean-spirited blow it out. Don't let your light flicker and fade because of everyday challenges and concerns. The world is large, and no one can illuminate it alone, but it is amazing how a single candle, burning brightly can light so many others.
And so it is. I cannot possibly be the only one who feels extinguished; snuffed out; slipped away; defeated. But perhaps like me, someone's heart needs a reminder.
Press on. Push forward.
The world needs your light. Hold your candle high.
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