Caught in My Own "Trap"

See this book? I got a copy of it from the library because I want to make wiser choices when it comes to what I feed myself and my family. I started reading it tonight.

As I sat in my chair perusing the pages I suddenly became aware of what I was feeding my trap at that exact moment.

Three pieces of fudge left over from the holidays.

I felt like Sylvester caught by Granny with his mouth full of Tweety Bird.

I had a hard time swallowing those last few bites. But I persevered. :D

Are They Really Doing Their Own Shopping?

So I was over at {name and link removed} recently checking out all of the freebies and coupons that were linked there. I signed up for a lot of stuff at some of the websites. I'm sure that not only will these companies be stocking our mailbox and pantry but our email inbox as well. That's okay with me. Pastor Dad might be a bit surprised when he downloads the email each morning though (I registered under his address :) ) but this will just give him more time to concentrate on fixing my coffee in the morning.

As I was signing up at various locations I was asked to type in some personal information like name, address, and date of birth. The drop-down menus usually opened somewhere in the center of the list of years, which was good for me because I am right there in the middle anyway. But you know me. I just couldn't help checking both ends of the spectrum. What I found astonished me.

First of all, there were some year options for the elderly that I found to border on the ridiculous. The earliest year varied from site to site but the oldest person eligible to register at one of them could be born as early as 1885! Now, I'm not up on who is the oldest person alive in the world, but assuming that there are people almost 124 years old out there somewhere am I really to believe that they are still doing their own shopping? Or that they are asking for free handouts of cleaning supplies and cereal? Or that they are even computer literate enough to be sitting there clicking on drop-down menus at all? If so, it could explain how they lived to be 124! They got quite the physical workout doing their own shopping and cleaning and the mental exercise taking computer classes at their local adult education institution.

Second, the ages on the other end of the spectrum were just as silly. I think the latest choice was 2006. Yeah, like we've got two and three year olds surfing the net for bargains. Or like we can believe they can fill in all the required information in order to receive the freebie. ("How many times in the last year did you purchase Yummy Bummy Cereal?")

I'll admit that I've seen kids do some pretty amazing things but I just don't think it's logical to expect someone slightly older than Sweet Pea to be helping her parents bring home the bacon via the family computer even if her parents do homeschool her and her siblings.

How It All Began

O magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt his name together. Psalm 34:3

Thirty-one years ago today Pastor Dad got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. In front of a restaurant full of people. When we're together and focused on each other we tend not to notice others too much.

Since we had only met 103 days previous by my calculations, you can see that Pastor Dad is not one to waste time once he decides what he wants, or what is the Lord's will, with both things being in agreement, hopefully.

And since we'd only been dating 84 days of that, and not exclusively either, you can see that our decision to marry was not a long, drawn out process once we made up our minds. Much prayer went into the decision, though, lest you think we're totally off our rockers. There probably isn't any way to stop you from thinking that, but we did pray about it before seeking holy matrimony both before and after we met.

"Marry in haste and repent at leisure" is not a quote that applies. We've had to repent from time-to-time but never about our decision to marry.

God is happy, Pastor Dad is happy, and I'm happy so I'm not sure anyone else matters. Oh, yeah, the kids seem happy, too. Sorry gals and guy. I didn't mean to forget you.

When Nephew E, who was the only nephew or niece alive at the time, was told his uncle was marrying, everyone wanted to make sure he understood what my role would be. They asked the little 2-year-old if he knew what an aunt is. He replied, "Yes, it's one of those little bugs I squish on the sidewalk."

Thanks for not doing that to me, Nephew E. I would've missed so much. I'm glad you have a better grasp of homonyms now, too. :)

Thanks Pastor Dad for asking. If you asked me today I'd still say "yes" even with 20/20 hindsight. :D

The School of Hard Knocks

The holidays are over so we went back to school today. In our homeschool some of the symptoms of post-holiday back-to-school blues were exhibited such as moodiness, sobbing, and the dragging of the feet to the study table. The Bear experienced similar symptoms.

But this isn't really what I mean. No one got knocked hard in our school today, unless we count Pepper jumping with her usual exuberance. The "school" I wish to discuss is something that I was reminded of the other day while eavesdropping at a basketball game. Yeah, I'm often reintroduced to strange cliches while sitting around minding my own - and other peoples' - business.

The conversation went something like this:

Her: So where did you attend college?

Him: I didn't go to college. I graduated from The School of Hard Knocks.

I almost interrupted to tell him that he was mistaken but that seemed a bit rude, especially since I was the one doing the eavesdropping. I'm not contradicting where the man went to college or the success he has achieved in life in spite of it. I'm contradicting the part about graduating.

I've been attending The School of Hard Knocks myself for many years now and I have concluded that the commencement ceremony will not occur until I am lying in state in the church auditorium with people around quietly humming "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead""When We All Get to Heaven." I just don't see any other way to graduate. Either that or I am a very slow learner since I seem to be repeating some of the same courses over and over again.

And I don't think I'm the only one spending a lot of time in that school. God seems to be using many of the circumstances of life to teach lessons to my loved ones as well.

Some may be wondering why I haven't blogged about the Princess and her household recently. Well, in my determination to keep things a bit light-hearted I have avoided mentioning them. I decided to wait until their current studies were finished so that I could bask in the lessons that the Lord taught them (and me) during the matriculation process. I'm learning. I'm learning. I often get ahead of God and then He makes me repeat classes.

Here is the recent course description:

Three weeks ago the Princess called me on the phone and she was crying hysterically. I thought the worst had happened to our Little Beanie Baby. Once she could talk coherently she was able to say that her hubby (previously called The Chili King, but no more) had lost his job. Oh, that's all? What a relief! You had me scared there for a minute!

I'm really not heartless. But given the fact that the Princess was told last year that she would never be able to conceive children, and my mom and I had to answer many questions about our own health histories because the diagnosed syndrome is often genetic, the loss of a job was a much easier class to take than the one I feared we'd be attending. Further discussions with the Princess and her hubby (I hate not having a name for him) encouraged us to believe that God would provide for their little family in His own way and in His own timing. As Pastor Dad wisely reminded us, managing a chili restaurant wasn't his chosen vocation anyway, so it wasn't like he lost his dream job.

The week before Christmas my jobless son-in-law submitted 40 applications to various places of employment. Then he took some time off to help the Princess recuperate from ill health.

Yes, ill health.

First came the UTI on Christmas Eve. Then came the kidney stones three days later. We tried to be there to help through it all, which means really not being able to do much of anything except feel helpless. A late-night emergency room run. Holding her while she writhed in agony. Forcing fluids down her throat. Trying to get her to eat. That sort of thing. And then seeing her little pregnant belly that promises that all courses will be repeated but with them in the parents' classes.

The Princess seems to be feeling much better these days. And I think - hope - we've all learned our lessons well. Her hubby now not only has one new job, but two! And he has an interview with a third company soon. Bad economy? Ha! Big Eternal God!

I'm not ready to graduate just yet, Lord, but I would like a bit of a holiday break from The School of Hard Knocks if you don't mind.

(And I hope I passed the previous course.)