Friday, January 29, 2010

iLove

This is the post in which I vow this to be the last day I utter type the words vomit, diarrhea, mucus and phlegm. But don't hold me to it for very long.

Unless, of course, I'm asked a direct question. You know like: Hey, Cat, have you scaled Mt. Wannahockaloogie yet? Or: Dearest leader of the Whininites, hast thou parted the Phlegm Sea?? Then and only then will I allow myself to twitter, facebook, blog, text, speak about such dreaded words as these.

In one last ditch effort to get it all out of my system, I have a most important question. Why is there no iPhone app for this? You know like iMed or iDoc or iDiarrheaAllNightLong? Not that this technologically challenged family will ever hope to own an iPhone, but you know, just in case....

Oh and one more thing...vomit, hurl, upchuck, throw up, spew, blow chunks, heave, puke,diarrhea, squirts, runs, the trots, phlegm, mucus, snot (with or without the rocket), goo, gunk and sludge.

There. That should just about do it.

Now that some of you have vowed never to read my blog again, while others are continuing the list of synonyms in their heads, we'll move on to lighter and more lovely things.

Thank you, Coffee Gal, for the idea I'm now going to steal and tweak for my own purposes!

iLove...

iLove... that my 2 year old baby still smells like a baby. You know, unless he doesn't smell like one. You know, as in...can't say the words, remember? Just refer back to my most recent complaints updates on Twitter or Facebook. And iLove that (because of the you-know-what) I've had more opportunities to cuddle with him lately.

iLove...that that same baby says things like, "Mama, kiss me on my leeps." and "Why hello, Apples, it's nice to see you again!" and does things like this...

iLove...to hear my precious Emma say things like "I'm sorry you're sad. Can I give you a hug?" to her big brother even if he's being Mr. Cranky Pants.

iLove...to see that same little girl dance and twirl on her tiptoes on the basketball court when she's supposed to be playing, well, basketball.

iLove...the silly, adorable grin on my 8 year old son's face when he tells us the latest joke he's heard or made up (even if they make no sense). His smile and laugh are contagious.

iLove...the church family we are apart of. For on the same day that I felt like throwing myself to floor and having a good old toddler temper tantrum over dealing with the you-know-what for so long, a friend brought us dinner, followed by dinners the next 2 nights from 2 other dear friends. We are blessed indeed.

iLove...that it's looking like my boyfriend and I (aka The Hubs) will be getting a much needed date night tonight. It's been tooooo long.

iLove...this...
...and I might have a freak-out-what-will-I-ever-do-I-left-the-house-without-it slight obsession with this double-walled-non-sweating-20oz-AWESOME reusable cup from Starbucks.

iLove
...that we scored this for FREE off of Craig's List last night...
so the kids could get more practice for this...
iLove...that my oldest son in his prayers last night said, "Dear God, If it's your will, could You keep our new basketball hoop up and working. That would be great. Amen."

iLove...that I'm still thinking about dancin'.

I may not have gotten hairapy or friendapy or footapy or retailapy but reminding myself of the things iLove is always good therapy....

And that app cost me nothing!



Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Forward:

Forwarded emails. You know the ones.

I used to, but now never rarely forward forwarded emails. I'm sorry, but most days I don't even have time for the really important stuff like Twitter, Facebook, blogging, leisure book reading, napping dishes, laundry, bathroom cleaning, organizing, DISINFECTING, figuring out which end is up. Ahem.

And confession: I sometimes don't even read the forwarded emails I receive. (Please, no offense to the sender!) Unless they catch my attention as something that is personally just for me or will be really good, informative, important, encouraging, unique, or side-splitting funny (Please keep sending those!) they don't get my time.

This one that came to my inbox yesterday from sweet Danielle was one of the "few". It's one that had never come before. You know, unlike the ones or slight variations of the ones that you've received a total of 157 times. And since reading it I have NOT been able to get the imagery out of my head. Maybe it's because the word "dance" is used and I tend to like everything about that word. Whatever it may be, I'm "forwarding" it on to you all, my dear family and friends. I hope it encourages and spurs you on today.

"G U I D A N C E

When I meditated on the word Guidance,
I kept seeing "dance" at the end of the word.
I remember reading that doing God's will is a lot like dancing.
When two people try to lead, nothing feels right.
The movement doesn't flow with the music,
and everything is quite uncomfortable and jerky.
When one person realizes that, and lets the other lead,
both bodies begin to flow with the music.
One gives gentle cues, perhaps with a nudge to the back
or by pressing Lightly in one direction or another.
It's as if two become one body, moving beautifully.
The dance takes surrender, willingness,
and attentiveness from one person
and gentle guidance and skill from the other.
My eyes drew back to the word Guidance.
When I saw "G": I thought of God, followed by "u" and "i".
"God, "u" and "i" dance."
God, you, and I dance.
As I lowered my head, I became willing to trust
that I would get guidance about my life.
Once again, I became willing to let God lead.
My prayer for you today is that God's blessings
and mercies are upon you on this day and everyday.
May you abide in God, as God abides in you.
Dance together with God, trusting God to lead
and to guide you through each season of your life.


I Hope You Dance Through 2010!"

Now you, too, can dance through your day to the sounds of Lee Ann Womack in your head.

And even if you think you don't have rhythm, I suspect that Jesus' has enough for the both of you.

Now dance away, dance away, dance away all!!!!

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Oxymoron

Is it just me or is this an oxymoron???


And am I a moron for even thinking it? Don't answer that.


Friday, January 15, 2010

Christmas Preserved

Proof that my claim (from this post), of not even being sure which end is up most days, is true, comes from the fact that in that post there were pictures that did not belong. Beautiful? Yes. But that were taken on that particular trip? No. In my scatterbrained state I assumed that the pictures in my computer files that were right next to one another were related. We DO live near such beauty as this:



But these were, however, taken on an entirely different trip.

Aaaallrightythen.

Now, in my need to move on and blog about Christmas before it really IS Easter, I'm writing/uploading under the influence of cold medicine and 3 weeks of mucus and phlegm of which I've never seen the likes. So there are no guarantees as to what will be expelled (ahem) here and I can not be held responsible....or so I'm telling myself.

Since my words have seemed to fail me lately (or they've been drowning in a sea of mucus) and to save you all from undeserved mumbo jumbo and to preserve your retina from the crazy, random diatribe that might ensue...how 'bout I just go with a pictorial documentary of our Christmas season and celebrations, m'kay?


A picture really was worth a thousand words and probably was a lot less painful at this point for you AND me.

With these memories preserved (and essentially being caught up on my blogging) a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Now if I can just get my lungs and head to feel lighter we'd be JAM UP AND JELLY TIGHT.

Until next time...
...when I most assuredly WON'T use the words mucus and phlegm....
...you're welcome.



Wednesday, January 13, 2010

You might be a Redneck if....

...you use a child's baton to reach the fast forward button of your VCR.

...you still "record" your shows on your old school VCR.

...there's no clock and no way to program and no remote for your VCR.

...you have a basket propping up the broken shelves that hold your VCR.

...you decide to take the picture during the worst commercial/preview possible just because you want to blog about your VCR.