Lion Tails and Ruby Slippers

Some days my life is easy and fun and nothing at all goes wrong but many more days are long and hard and scary. I haven't a clue what I'm doing here, I jokingly say it's "how I roll" or "I just fly by the seat of my pants" but the truth is if I didn't have absolute belief that God is working it all out for my good and His glory I'd have a hard time breathing. It's not the marriage or the kids or the job or the endless responsibilities that go with these things that cause me to doubt myself or my abilities, it's the face in the mirror that keeps telling me I'm too old, or too slow, not educated enough or not gifted enough. I doubt myself because of my SELF. I so identify with the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz, it is not that I don't have courage really, I just have never had to stand up and use it. I would rather stand quivering and twist my tail in my hands jabbering about what I do or do not believe in than to face the day confident that the God who holds the universe together has got my little problems handled. Let me give you an example of what I'm talking about.
Before Christmas my Suburban outran it's transmission. It was not a good time for this but instead of waiting for it to get fixed I drove a car that had an expired tag and was not insured (I REALLY thought our shop insurance covered it but it did not). I was pulled over by a sweet young policeman who no more believed my sob story than I believe in the tooth fairy (don't tell my younger kids I don't believe in the tooth fairy but for the record she has been slacking at our house lately) I was ticketed and told that I could appear before the judge and plead my case yada yada yada...fact is I didn't really have a case. After investigating the fines for my crimes I discovered I had to appear before the judge...in that, it was not an option. This rattled me. I don't really know why but I didn't want to have to explain why I had been driving an uninsured, expired tagged car.
I stewed in this knowledge for several days. I talked to my attorney, joked about going to jail, dreaded having to go to traffic court but ended up going by myself. But, I was not unarmed! My friend Kim called me and talked ninety-to-nothing about what I needed to to. "Go in there, fall on the mercy of the court and know that whatever the judge says will be what you have to accept". She also did as we often do for each other, she prayed, over the phone out loud...and pretty much asked the Lord to not let me say or do something stupid. I really love her. She so "gets" me. She was still talking like the girly machine gun she is when I pulled into a parking space and told her I HAD to get off the phone and go in because I was late and I was sure they'd add more fines for that!! I found the entrance and took my place in a very long line. I wasn't even sure I was in the right place but I asked a few people and was told everyone had to stand in this line first.
I observed the line shuffling along. Some people would talk to the lady behind the glass then leave the building, others here and there would take their tickets and exit to the right into THE COURTROOM. I saw several rows of chairs with a few people sitting, arms crossed looking very determined that they had a good reason for whatever it was they did. I started hearing the questions the lady behind the glass was asking. "Do you plead guilty or non-guilty?" the individual would answer and proceed from there. I caught on that the people who were pleading not-guilty were the smug looking ones in the courtroom. I knew I had no leg to stand on so when it was my turn to plead I said...."Uh,um,guilty" in fact I think I said "Uh, um I'M guilty!". I was so relieved not to have to go before the judge! When the lady asked how I wanted to pay the fine I asked her how much I needed to pay, she said however much I could. I was confused, she was confused then I asked her how much the fine was...she told me $311. I finally breathed again. I had thought it would be worse. Three hundred dollars is a lot of money for me but I had been told it would be more. I handed the lady my debit card told her to take it all at one time and I left feeling that I had somehow avoided prison.
I learned my lesson. I won't be driving anymore cars with no tag or insurance. I also learned that when I've done wrong even if grace is extended I will have consequences. I've been watching a pink netbook that I can write my stories on and skipe with my sweet baby Aidie. It will have to wait a few weeks. I am thankful to have a part-time job that I love so working for it won't be hard.
I also learned that although I may identify with the Lion, I have the ruby slippers. They are my family, my friends and all the things I love about my life and anytime I forget I can click my heals together and be right back where I'm suppose to be. Life is good, God is faithful and this action packed ride is pretty fun.
So, I'm gonna tell the Lion in the mirror that I am not afraid, I'm gonna dig that courage medal out of my pocket and wear it.

I just don't know what to make of this. I have had many years experience with children, I know enough not to say I'm an expert...I think there are very few of those. Children are not as predictable as we grown ups think. I believe my little Lissy is a great example of this unpredictablity theory.
We started out okay today but quickly went down hill. There was no battle about clothes, shoes or hair. She brushed her teeth without complaint, but when it was time to go to school she bristled. She wanted to take her "bloony", a latex balloon she got last night a Chik-fil-a. She also got a little red basketball, which would have been appropriate for "show and tell". She had a meltdown because we wouldn't let her take the balloon. She left in a bad mood and according to her teacher went on to throw a fit at school, kicking, screaming, all the normal characteristics of her fits of rage. This time there didn't seem to be a cause.
We got home a few minutes ago and she greeted her balloon (now on the floor) as if it were a long lost friend. Then she realized something had changed...her balloon was not reaching for the sky like it had this morning. This made her angry! She started calling the balloon "stupid" and fussing at it to stay up in the air and not fall down. It was like watching a scary science fiction movie, there were no tears...so I'm guessing she was just mad but it was intense!! I was very glad not to be a balloon. She finally got so mad at it that she reached in the drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors and popped the useless thing...She then picked it up...walked to the trashcan and dropped it in. Not another word. Weird huh?
I can only imagine what she'll do next, she keeps me guessing and on my toes.

Peanut Butter Toast

I have a thousand things on my mommy list today. It is Monday and my house looks like it. Why am I the mom who fusses at everybody about not picking up their stuff but get no results whatsoever? Note to self, fussing doesn't work, find alternative methods of crowd control. Yesterday afternoon I clearly remember thinking, if I can just get them all out and back to school I can have this place whipped into shape in no time. Well, it sounded good but now I wish I had sent everyone up with a laundry basket full of their clothes and all their shoes. When you multiply those items by seven you have a truck load and now I have no help. I suppose I shouldn't say I don't have ANY help. I have the little one. She's four, she's adorable and impossible all at once. She came in the kitchen a few minutes ago and asked for some peanut butter toast. I was so impressed that she actually wanted to eat something remotely nutritious for breakfast I got right on it. Her normal breakfast consists of Fruit Loops, a cookie and a couple of pixie sticks, I jump at the mention of peanut butter. As I delivered the toast she smiled and told me I was the "bestest mommy ever". I responded to the little cherub with "Thank you Sweetie" and mumbled under my breath, "I hope you remember that when you're fourteen". I know better than to let that one go to my head. I am not the bestest...um, best mother anyone ever had. I am old and tired and lack the ability to focus on anything for more than a few minutes tops. I think what she was saying was more like this. You are adequate, you take care of me, I don't have to worry about bullies or being hungry or cold. You love me and that is enough. I love you for your effort. Break that down into four year old vocabulary and understanding and it comes out "Bestest Ever". If I do my job well, she'll grow up and want a family, she'll be the mommy spreading peanut butter on the toast. She won't remember always having clean clothes or a good night song, she won't remember getting to pick out snacks at the grocery store or rummaging through my purse for gum or being lifted up to reach the mail. I hope she remembers being told she's beautiful and that she can be a ballerina or a doctor, a scientist or a pastry chef. I hope she realizes someday that she had a really fun childhood and was cherished and for a moment in time was my entertainment, my encourager and my help. These days are racing by, in a minute she will be gone. So, as I get back to the mundane chores of Monday I pray for her and thank God for the little gift I get to hold for now.

Next week I will take my first stab at being a newspaper columnist. I am very excited to get the chance to connect with people in our community who don't blog or Facebook. I feel sad that they are missing out on all the fun but I'm grateful for a chance to tell my stories to people outside the loop. I think I'm going to get to keep my "Greetings From The Circus" title on the column. It will be a lot like what I do on here. I'll probably start using this blog for more personal thoughts and day to day "stuff". I want to learn how to make my blog more interesting by posting pictures and music. If you are a blog literate person who would like to give me some pointers feel free!!! Thanks for reading.
Angie

Baby Shower and Friends

My dear friends Kelly and LeAnn and Micah's friend from 8th grade Meghan held a baby shower in honor of the soon to be born Anderson Brooks today. It was so nice seeing Micah's friends and my friends and the great-grandmothers all together. We ooohhh-ed and aaahhh-ed over all the cute little boy clothes, blankets, burp cloths, and all the other great gifts he got. Micah's friend from birth, Lauren was there with her two sisters. I did the wedding flowers for her wedding a couple of years ago, now the younger sister is engaged and I'll be working on her September wedding this year. It's so exciting seeing these girls grow up and establish families of their own. It's special having these people in my life and in Micah's life. There will surely be many more babies in the next few years.
While we were talking around the food table my cousin whispered to me the reason her mother, "Granny K" wasn't herself today was because on Thursday her best friend died. They had been friends over fifty years. They talked every day like clockwork....seven p.m. they'd call each other and talk about life. I looked at my friend Terri, we've been friends since we were eleven. That's almost forty years...her granddaughter was born on my granddaughter's first birthday. We will be bonded for life. I imagine us old, talking on the phone. I can only feel sad for my aunt. I told her I was so sorry about the loss of her good friend. She just shook her head, still not able to talk about it. My aunt is in her late eighties, her friend was ninety-three. They didn't even meet until they were young mothers in the same neighborhood. They were the June Cleaver moms. I picture my aunt in her grass hopper Keds and smock she wore for gardening. She grew day lilies, kept a spotless house, insisted my cousin be involved in swim team and girl scouts. She and her friends ruled the world with smart straw hats and wooden spoons. I have two of her dresses from back then. I borrowed them for a sixties day and forgot to return them, I doubt she's given them much thought. I'm not sure why she even kept them. I didn't have the heart to tell her I wouldn't wear them because they weren't what all my friends were wearing to "Sixties Day"...poodle skirts and white blouses. I'm sure what my aunt loaned me was much more authentic. I picture her in the white cotton dress with green embroidery, smiling at the camera, her friend beside her leaning on a '66 Chevrolet Impala. I'm sure she would say those were the glory days, like Terri and I will say these days were for us. Fifty is not so bad when you think, Lord willing, we will be able to say we've been friends seventy years when we reach their age. Thankfully, we'll live on to be friends on the other side of this life too.

Another Shutterbug is Born

When I was five I got my first camera. Really, five. I took it to kindergarten at First Baptist Church. I took pictures of my friends on the playground and while I was at it I convinced "Miss Sue" Blackmon and her assistant teacher to climb on the seesaw, skirts and all to pose for a picture. Somewhere there is proof. I haven't seen the pictures for a while but I know they used to be at Mama's house. Maybe someday I'll uncover them again.
I didn't think the photography bug was going to bite any of my children, although they have always taken great pictures and Lord knows they've all had experience being my models. Much to my surprise Matthan has come down with the fever. I can't express how thankful I am he's breezed past the "film snob" stage and has fallen in love with digital. It is so much less expensive than film and the immediate results are hard to beat. If the picture is lousy, you delete! Not so easy with film. He has taken some beautiful shots, some interesting shots, some shots a mother has to ask..."She really did have clothes on under that STOP SIGN....RIGHT?" So far I am impressed. I love his eye, which I have always heard is the key. I can't tell you much about my camera but I can tell a good photograph when I see one. I find myself sounding like a proud mama when I look at his art, oooing and aahing over everything on the computer screen.
I don't know if photography is "That Thing" he'll do to make his mark on the world but I know it is a very good thing. Micah has already challenged him to document her baby's first minutes and hours in the "outside" world. She said she knew I'd miss the pictures if I tried to do it...she's probably right.
I gladly pass the camera to him.

My Kitchen Redo

For almost two weeks I have been working on my kitchen. It's about time, not much has been done since the house was built twenty years ago. I wallpapered it during the original process. I stripped the wallpaper about ten years later and painted it what I affectionately called "Hello Yello". It was BRIGHT, you didn't have to have a cup of coffee to wake up in my kitchen. I enjoyed about all of that I could and decided to paint it a much more tranquil green. I painted the cabinets a pale yellow (I say I but Michael did help, while I was away last weekend he painted a whole section). Once I got all that done I found that the old white trim looked really dirty and just bad....so I had no choice but to paint all the trim again. I finally finished this afternoon and it looks lovely.
The final phase of the project is going to be counter tops...I'm not sure when that will happen. I'm still bargain shopping for tile. It has to be bottom dollar and the cheapest I've found was about $6 a square foot. Considering I don't have a job right now I have no extra to just chunk at tile...so I will keep looking. I don't mind waiting it out. It should be worth it.

I'll never forget the call I received from my daughter Micah, I was grocery shopping when my cell phone rang. Her cheery voice greeted me with the news that she knew who her "people group" was. She had told me about a retreat she had attended with a group of college friends where they were challenged to pray for God's direction as to who they should serve. This is in itself somewhat unusual for today's college student, being told it's not about the job you land, the bank account you build, or the status you achieve. These students were told it isn't about YOU at all...it's about what you will give away, and the people you will serve.
Micah told me her people group was foster children. She was about to watch God map out a plan that would forever change the lives of many children in the system.
She had witnessed what being in abusive and neglectful situations does to children. We had five foster children in our home at the time. Although Micah was married and living in another town she came home every chance she got to help with them. She saw what a struggle it was for us to go from having a quiet life with two teenage boys to the chaos that ensued when seven children all needed something at the same time. We were exhausted, sleep deprived and overwhelmed. We couldn't do it alone. Thankfully, we didn't have to. God supplied friends who did everything from organizing the children's clothes, to babysitting, to being an arm for our teen boys to lean on. It took that village we've heard about to help us survive.
In the midst of it all Micah was called to start a ministry. Big House Foundation was born. She named the organization after a song by Audio Adrenaline, a Christian band. The first Wednesday night we had our foster children we were on our way to church, I asked the kids to listen to the song. Some of the words are: "Come and go with me to my Father's house, it's a big big house with lots and lots of rooms, a big big table with lots and lots of food, a big big yard where we can play football, a big big house...it's my Father's house". The kids screamed to hear it again. We listened to it three times there and three times back. They were hooked. The song refers to Heaven but to foster children who may not be used to having enough food or room or a place to play it sounds like something they want right now!
The mission of Big House is serving the foster family. There is a clothes closet stocked with nice clothing free of charge to foster families, a swimsuit and beach towel drive each year so that foster children have a new swimsuit and a towel with their name embroidered on it. This past Christmas Big House hosted the foster family Christmas Party. Each child received gifts, books, hat's and gloves, and got the opportunity to eat breakfast with Santa and some of his helpers. Basically, the desire of Big House is to give every child a chance to do the things most children in traditional families do, including music, dance, art, sports, scouting etc.
Foster care is not a perfect solution, but it is all we have to do what we can for children in situations where they have no voice. As foster parents in Lee County we are thankful for friends, churches and organizations like Big House who are here to help.