Purely Complimentary

Try to stay with me here....I do have a point...I think.

I grew up watching my Mom put make-up on each morning before she went to work or anywhere for that matter....even if we weren't going anywhere now that I think of it, although that wasn't often.  I think the one exception might have been if she was having a scheduled surgery. I would sit there and watch her every little move and detail.  She was so precise.  Naturally, when I came to about 11 or 12, I wanted to wear make-up too.( don't all preteen girls?)  I also had the mind set that I could not dare leave the house without it.  In early adult hood, I dabbled in being a beauty consultant, and the motto there...well, your face is your canvas...your advertisement, if you will.  It was so in-grained to me.  The older I got, the more I came to find that maybe it was just vanity.  I'm a clean person, I fix my hair...I'm the same person without make-up on my face.  I'd even been told by my husband that he liked me better without it.  As more children came along, I probably fell off the makeup wagon whenever I was spending the day at home.  With the birth of Lillian...my make-up wearing days fell by the wayside altogether.  Mostly, I just don't value the time it takes me to put it on.  If it comes down to having a few extra minutes of sleep, um, I'll take sleep.  If it means getting out the door on time versus being late, I'm going to be on time.  I also don't want my kids to think they need it.  I am the mother of five girls.  I want them to know they are beautiful and don't need enhancing.  Of course, they do like certain elements of makeup, mostly eye makeup.  My 11 year old is driving me nuts wanting to wear some.  And that's fine. She will get her chance when we feel she is old enough.  Where am I going with this, right?  I've always struggled with thinking I  am an attractive person.  My sister may be the only person in this life who tells me I'm beautiful  (thanks for that by the way)   if I bring it up.  I know she means.  In the Bible study we just started at church, we are doing a Beth Moore study on the book of Daniel.  To relate to us, she talks about the values the Babylon prized and how that equates to us in modern day...ie, the emphasis we place on youth, beauty, knowledge, and wealth.. The beauty one has really been nagging at me.   I really feel unsettled internally about it.  Maybe I'm just a screwed up mess....yep, that could be it. (I also think of this with my hair being so gray..color or not to color)  I decided to try to get up a few minutes earlier each day to slap on my make-up the last few days.  My children have noticed, the school kids have told me how pretty  I look, AND some of the adults I encounter on a regular basis have seemed to make a really big surprised compliment about how nice I look.  I appreciate it, I really do.  What does that say to me, though...the me inside my head...(crazy...I know)  I am indifferent, I just don't know how to process the thinking.  I'm me no matter what's on my face...made up or not.  I don't necessarily feel like I need to wear make up every day, it does not change who I am.  It certainly changes the reactions I get from people sometimes.  I don't necessarily want to dye my hair, but I dislike that people comment on it a lot when they find out I'm only 35...I mean, really, I'm 35 no matter what color my hair is. how do we keep ourselves from being sucked into being Babylonian women???Ugh, I just don't know....

The Sausage Arm Parable

Once upon a time there was a woman who thought she might go to goodwill and find some new, used clothes for herself.  She just happened to have a ten dollar reward card that entitled her to ten dollars worth of free merchandise.  Now, said woman, also happened to be a plus size woman and in recent days, thought her arms looked sort of like link sausages.  You know, from the shoulder to elbow, reminded her of sausage links.  It sounds odd, but that is what she thought when she looked in the mirror.  So, this lovely woman, ahem, went to the Goodwill, in spare window of time and started scanning the aisles.  Well, wouldn't you know, with free money in her pocket...she is struggling to find ANYTHING at all.  She did pass up a shirt with cutesy short sleeves, thinking in her head," that probably wouldn't fit my arms" so she didn't even try it on.  She became discouraged as she came to the end of the plus size clothes rack, frustrated that of course she wouldn't find someting since she had money available.  Her next thoughts took her to all the other "departments" of the store, with still no would be purchases.  She decides to check out the clothing rack one more time to see if something new has been added or if she might have overlooked a diamond in the rough so to speak.  She comes across this flannel print cutesy shrit, again, thinking, "that's my size, maybe the arms will fit after all".  Not having time to go to the dressing room and desperately wanting to fulfill her retail therapy, she thinks, "perhaps I'll just slip it on over my shirt, it's button up after all, that will give me some idea if it will work".  She places her arm in the first hole to find the sleeve is a wee bit snug. But, hey, a little tug, she can handle a little snug-ness, right?  She slips her other arm in and pulls the shirt about her and finds, it really probably won't work.  The arms would be snug, but doable, but the buttons probably won't accommodate ample boosom.  She sighs.  Oh well, she guesses retail therapy is shot for the day and she needs to get moving out of this store.  She shrugs "cutesy" shirt down her arms to find...uh oh....it's stuck on her arms.  She realizes, in sudden panick, the shirt is just not coming off.  A five minute wrestling match ensues, in which the shirt is winning.  The woman, in dismay, wonders if she is going to have to grab a stranger to tug this shirt off.  She is wondering if someone somewhere is watching this on a video camera, laughing hysterically.  She takes a moment to calm herself and wills herself to get this shirt off!  After another wrestling match, she is able to dislodge the shirt from her arms and get out of dodge.  Some days later, she finds herself pretty tickled at the sight it must have caused for anyone who might have been watching me  eer.....I mean her.  The End.

A ( doozy of a) week in Review

Last Monday: Lillian has therapy 9-11.  Appointment in KY at 1.  Realizing I will not make it home in time for nine year old Madeline, I ask a friend to pick her up.  Friend gets tied up at work, misses time, shows up late to house...no Madeline.  By the time I arrive, Madeline has been found down the street at a friend's house.  Monday evening, 11 year old Isabelle is done with cross country meet, needs a ride...calls back one minute later says Pastor will bring her home.  Calls back 5 minutes later, says Pastor left, I need to pick her up.  Bring her home.  4 minutes later, Pastor at front door, in near panic mode...he had just gone across the field to pick up his son.   Lillian has started throwing up feeds.

Tuesday: Busy morning, take baked goods to church to make peace offering for all the trouble I feel like I've created via my kids...come home, 4pm, phone rings...15 year old Bethany has missed the bus from school.  FROM school.  In fact, FIVE kids miss same bus from school.  hmm.  Go to get her, pass her friends walking home, pick her up.  At her urging, stop in parking lot by previously mentioned walkers, as we pull up, one of said teenagers has just been struck by a car.( PTL he turns out to be ok, just bruised up pretty good.) I order other walking teen into vehicle and drive him home.  I get home, potatos have turned but oh well, they go in the oven anyway.  Feeling a little shaken by car crash teenager....realize it's 10 minutes past time to pick up 11 year old Isabelle from cross country.  UGH.  Lillian is still puking.

Wednesday:  Get up, get ready to go to store...end up paying bills.  Go to goodwill and big lots...decide to go to nearby town.  Eat supper with some extended family.  Go to Sam's club with 9 kids and 3 adults total.  Get home, all kids totally grumpy.  What was I thinking? More puking.

Thursday: MUST GO TO STORE.  No milk in the house, husband less than thrilled. Get Lillian to therapy...must get milk.  Pouring onslaught of rain.  *sighs* Get a bath on the way to car.  Dirt all up my legs.  Umbrella NOWWHERE to be found.  Drop of Lillian, head to get milk.  TRAIN.  15 minutes behind train = not enough time to get to store.  Decide to get oil changed.  Mr. Lubie closed.  Must drive to other end of town to other Mr.  Lubie.  Pick up Lillian, get her off to school, stop at church for ice in cooler for grocery trip.  Talked into coming back and baking for Octoberfest.  Kids home, pick up from cross country.   Daughter volunteers me to take someone home....take child home, pizza for dinner, older girls to football game, off to store for milk.  Lillian still pukes, have to stop feeds almost completely.

Friday:Lunch with friend in nearby town.  Home late.  Pick up kids from CC, off to supper at a friend's house followed by scary movie.  Still puking.

Saturday: Prayer room, then off to Indy for a visit with Grandma.  Home, supper date with Hubs, off to Walmart for Monday's Labor Day cookout at my house, which is a disaster because I've not had a moment to clean. Ready to make cake for dinner at someone's home that I don't know well tomorrow...BUT cake turns to fruit salad as 13 year old has dropped Labor Day's watermelon and cracked it all the way around.  Lillian pukes for 30 minutes, forcing a stop at rest area.

Sunday: Church, then off to dinner with a couple from church who'd like to get to know us better.  Whole day spent there, home, get final things done for Labor Day cookout tomorrow.  It'll be outside, so the house will be ok so so.  Lillian pukes on couch of host.

Monday: get up, start cooking.  Make deviled eggs, potato salad, butterscotch oatmeal bars, cupcakes, pasta salad, baked beans, prep hamburger toppings,reheat augratin potatoes,  must get done early bc family member coming early to cook her stuff here.  Start grilling meat, almost done with hamburgers and gas runs out on grill.  Realize it is way too cold to eat outside, must make room in house for all these peeps.  Family here, eat, play cards.  13 year old Rebecca realizes Washington DC fundraiser stuff due tomorrow, has lost 77 dollars somewhere.  Maybe it has fallen behind kitchen cabinets...hubs and brother in law, spend an hour at least pulling out cabinets without tearing everything apart.  Praise God, it is really there.  I just thought they would get it all done and no money would be found.  Drop into bed.  I ache.  Which brings me to today.  Drop of Lil, reading in van, 13 year old calls, she has forgotten fundraiser stuff at home.  Duty calls.  Lillian is on a feeding and hasn't thrown up yet.

Welcome to my life. Thank you Jesus for your hand in it ALL.

What you hear if you're listening.

I'm sitting here listening to the whir of the dishwasher and smelling my mocha something or other in the scentsy burner. I just put Lil on the bus, enter the house, and realize how much I can HEAR when noone else is around. I hear the air conditioner kick off and on, the dishwasher, the cars running down the road, so many things. So opposite from the norm around here with a family of seven. It led me to think about my week and the other things I've "heard" this week. Let me back track a little. Last week, I seemed to have something challenge me at every turn. It seemed as nothing I did ran as smoothly as it could or should have. I think I spent a couple days in a row complaining to my mom about how annoyed I was when she said to me...."well, Michelle, I think God is trying to train your patience, and when you learn the lesson, I think less of this will happen." Well....I just could not believe my Mother was lecturing me on patience. Seriously, me? Impatient? Many thoughts poured through my mind, I was immediately annoyed that she would think I was needing more patience. Had she forgotten the last four-five years of my life?? Really, I thought, how wrong she was to say such a thing. I was patient, probably more so than her. I even went to the length of calling my sister and complaining about that. Sheesh. In the midst of the previous week, I had a friend from church whose Mother was slowly dying. I prayed about it all week, asking the Lord to end her suffering. She was nothing more than a shell, barely hanging on and it just seemed like needless suffering for her, for my friend, for the family. I was sitting in the tub Friday night, chatting in prayer with God. I was praying for him to call my friend's mother home. I was questioning His reasoning for allowing her to be in this state, why could he not just call her home? Bang, smack into my thoughts came the words, mind you I'm still mid sentence of my reasons of not understanding, "Be patient, wait on me". It was like a smack to the face. My immediate thought, well, this must be something I need to share with my friend. The Holy Spirit had surely shared these words with me so I could share them with my friend. I continuned to pray, and it was revealed to me, No, Michelle, these words are for you. It brings me to tears as I think about it. My week of little insignificant issues were just that, insignificant. I shared the story yesterday with my sister, and today felt it weigh upon me to also tell my Mom. Much as I hated to admit it to her, because you know I'm just human.... I told her. I still can't say I love knowing it, but she said to me, God tried to use me to tell you, but when you wouldn't listen he brought it to you himself. Even at 35, I'm still a child of the King, being taught, being stretched, being guided through whatever means necessary. Maybe it's a lesson in patience as well as listening. Thank goodness He never gives up on His children.

Following Up

So, my mass or area of dense tissue went from being 9 cm to 3 cm, so that is good news. The disturbing news....the radiology report didn't read ANYTHING like what the radiologist actually said to me on the table. Now, I admit I was a little off my game that day, but I'm not a total loon, I do know what she told me. The "dense tissue" is still there and I'm to monitor it to check for change. Hmph. Also bothersome, I have to have another mammogram in six months, yay me. Really stoked for that experience again. Bleck.

We went on our first family camping trip last weekend. It was insanely hot, but we did enjoy ourselves and hope we can someday secure a pop up camper to make the experience more enjoyable and more frequent. I was so relaxed. It really was a great time. Unfortunately we came home and Lillian got really sick...so did I...and so did Isabelle. Not so relaxing.

This day, in particular, has been very trying. I'm tired and this stupid cold or whatever it is is still just hanging in there. Lillian is on TWO antibiotics and now has TWO oozing ears. What I want to do is have a two year old tantrum and call it a day, but I won't. This too shall pass. School resumes on Thursday and I really long to have my kids home a little longer, they are anxious to go back, and I guess, it will get a little quieter here during the day.

Overall, we had a nice summer, time in our neighbors pool, church activities, and most of all just good quality family time. Before I know it, Christmas will be on us and another year will pass. The older I get, the faster it seems to go.

Life's little notsogood surprises.

Ok, so unbelieveably, still, I report that the last couple of weeks have been a little rough. I managed to somehow come down with mastitis. Never had it in five pregnancies, but for some reason manage to get the awful illness. It is the sickest I've been in a very long time. Not to mention the pain. In the course of this illness, a mass comes up in my breast. To ease my worriesome mind, I co back to the doctor for him to just tell me I'm still needing to finish my antibiotics and perhaps be subject to a needle aspiration of what I think is an abscess. Imagine my shock when the first words from his mouth are something to the affect of "inflammatory mastitis can be a mascarade for breast cancer". Well let me tell you, I almost fell off the darn table. I think it was then, that my body just started following orders while my mind stepped outside of me saying, "this is not you". Honestly you could have slapped me and I don't think I would have known it. I go immediately from the office to the hospital for my first ever mammogram, followed by an exam by another doctor and then on to an ultrasound. There are words like, asymmetrical breasts, very different breast tissue, fluid pocket, inflammation, and puzzled expressions. The outcome, "well, there is fluid, but if there is something under the fluid I can't see it because of the fluid"..."you are not out of the woods, but at the edge of the forest"
So, I finished antibiotic and I wait to see the doctor again. It'll all work out.

Yesterday, on the intersate, driving home, a semi had a tire blow out in front of my car. The explosion scared me to death. I was less than a car length behind him and it was his back inside tire. Big cloud of black smoke, then debris hitting my windshield.

I need a few less surprises in my life these days.

I need a vacation....oh, and a money tree.

4th of July and other stuff....

Ok, so I won't complain, why is blogger posting my pics like this? I guess I'm just happy they uploaded. Just a few of my favorite pics of our 4th of July picnic. I made a lasagna, strawberry pie, and texas sheet cake. My sister brought chicken caeser salad, and garlic bread. Grandma threw in some KFC and we sat around and enjoyed some family time. My Mom came later, as well as my brother in law after he got off work, and he shot off some fireworks. My BIL was shooting off fireworks, and I had the warm sense of nostalgia, as it was something we did as kids. I remembered having sparklers, but didn't remember actual fireworks until they started shooting off in the sky. The end of the night was the best part of the day. For me. My kids also delcared it was the best 4th ever. Although, my niece let me know that "normal" folk have hamburgers on holidays, I didn't come home with ANY lasagna leftover. LOL. We've never been accused of being normal, that's all I can say. My girls are growing so fast.