Weirdest bird I EVER... !

So I hear a grinding / tapping noise that seemed to be just outside our bedroom window. And then I realize there's a shadow on our 2nd-floor curtains. So I cautiously pull them back, to discover this: the very frayed, extended wing of a pigeon.


Ok, technically that was my first thought.


If you click on this last picture, you'll probably be able to see it better. The squirrel was sitting on our windowsill, diligently eating something. But after I took this picture, he noticed me and ran off, head-sized munchy clenched in his little squirrel teef.

Shama llama, shama fish, and shama moi.

XKCD <--- Web comic.

These next 2 links are to songs I'm diggin'. Either of them, you can turn it on and minimize it to keep doing other stuff on the computer. (Like reading the rest of this post!)

You Won't Relent First heard at Harvest Rock in CA.

Mighty to Save Sang it this past Sunday morning.

Yes. You have to listen to atleast one.

Now that you're rockin' out...
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The paisley up there is a new shirt I just got. It's the second paisley thing I've ever owned, the first being a skirt Mom got me years ago. I absolutely love it. Akin to humongous lace. I wore it to our Friday night group last week, but I just might have to do it again tonight. They won't mind. They like me.
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I have a new favorite phrase: Shama llama.
"Shama" means "God is near," and you know what "llama" means. "God is near the llamas!" I crack me up.

Sidenote, but besides the commonly-heard idea of God caring for the sparrows, there's also the part in Job where God says, "Do you watch when the doe bears her fawn? Do you count the months till they bear?" Jesus' point about the sparrows is that God watches over us intently. See what beauty I'm pulling out of God watching the does have fawns?
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I have a good fish story:

One night last week, one of my guppies had a large discolored spot on her tail. Looked like internal bleeding. I put meds in the tank. The next morning, that fish was dead, and another had the same kind of spot.

As you know from previous post, I LIKE my guppies, and I've had tons of problems with this tank. Absolutely fed up, I left the room and spent 10 minutes pleading. I wasn't specific - I just remember saying something like "please put life in the tank."

So, not more than 10 minutes after looking at the fish, I go back to the tank. The dead fish was still dead, but there was NO SPOT on the 2nd fish. Nothing. (Yes, I'm sure.) Honestly, I couldn't hardly believe it. But I know, and I did then too, it's God.

Last night, over a week later, one of the fish got a spot again. But it's not even on the same side of the fish that the one was last week. Same disease I reckon. But God took that one spot off my fish! In minutes! Obviously, I am once again asking him to help my fish.
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D mentioned last night that it's really good to be able to get bored at night now. Our lives really are a lot easier. It's gotten to where it's hard to believe it was just 9 months ago that things were so hopeless.

Neither of us will ever forget the massive changes that God has brought for us these last 9 months - or that is was none other than God who did it. But we're also grateful to be able to feel a bit removed from it now.

Some things won't change. There'll always be an urn in our bedroom. But Savior has saved.
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I've been working on the budget. Technically, I'm recording receipts so we know what we're spending where. Once I've got good records, D's helping me write out a new budget.

This has always been my job. He'd just look over the budget I made and make a few alterations (like "no you can not spend that much on your critters.") But it's recently become clear that the reason I wait 4 months before I even record receipts is that I HATE the brain work that comes after getting it all recorded.

I don't do math well in the first place. Well, not the kind where you have to create your own equations. If I have an equation in front of me, I'm good. I'd rather just do the mindless work of asking the bank what our balance is. But seriously, who wouldn't?

Husband was actually born able to do pre-algebra. And if I remember right, he was doing calculus just a year or 2 later. Why didn't I think to pour out my "but I hate math" woes to him before?
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It has officially snowed! I think it was Wednesday that we had flurries all morning and monster-flakes all afternoon. Nothing really stuck. But it was oh so very pretty.
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This coming Wednesday, we're heading to TX for Thanksgiving. Gotta go talk my parents' ears off. I think we're putting up their Christmas tree, and I bet we'll land at a Mexican restaurant (so I can stare longingly at the corn chips and corn tortillas). Otherwise, don't really know what we'll do.
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Having mentioned corn... We went to a "normal" grocery store last night - as opposed to Trader Joe's where we've been shopping since I got sick. It's gotten to where I can eat carbs (just not corn). So I went to read the label on my favoritest-ever cookie mix - a thing I haven't had in ages. Wouldn't you know it - corn starch. So I pick up another one I used to like - corn syrup.

Agh!
A) Could no one opt for some other sweetener?
and B) How do you put corn syrup in a dry mix anyway?

D's response was "I think everything at Ultra has corn... except the MSG flakes."
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Last week, I had a blast transferring our Friday night leader's Myspace onto Facebook for him. The combo of getting to play on FB, and it not technically be wasting time, was just too good to pass up.
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Thursday is my usual blogging day. Next Thursday, we'll be in TX. The following Thursday, we'll be in MI at my Lyme doc - probably twisting my face about the IV in my arm.

So I don't know when I'll be back here. But it won't be long, 'cause if it was, you'd stop reading this and then I'd have to start sending emails. Ew.

Scenes from Babysitting

Monday, I watched a 2 year old girl for a couple hours,
then watched 5 others for 4  hours.  Enjoy:

With 2 year old girl...

She lays on the head of Gus, the 60+ pound bulldog.  She
wraps both arms around his head.  "Don't hurt Gussie"
results in "I hugging Gussie."  She sits back and takes
one dessert-plate-sized ear in both fists and strains
backward.  "Don't hurt Gus!" results in "I not hurting
Gussie."  The whole time,Gus doesn't notice.

I come in the kitchen to find her bracing her whole body
to keep the fridge door open.  We end up with a
tupperware of green peas, sitting nicely at the table so
she can "I open them."  About 1 cup of green peas shot
across the table and in 4 directions on the floor - much
to Gus' delight.  I got her a spoon and she dug into the
pile straight off the table.

An hour later, I could only get her to part with her
precious spilled peas by making it a game, complete with
sound effects, to knock them into the trash can.

"I want my cookies" resulted in the following
conversation, while standing in the kitchen:  "I want
my cookies."  "Where are they?"  "In the kitchen."
"Where in the kitchen?"  "In the KITCHEN!"  (There's
90 million cabinets.)  "Where in the kitchen?"  "In the
KITCHEN!  I want my COOKIES!"

This led to her whole top half being sprawled out deep
into a cabinet, hand stretched way to the back, cookies
in fist.  While there, she suddenly dropped them and
declared, "I want fruit cups!" as she grabbed them and
crawled out.  Groan.

A while later, me picking up books in her bedroom, she
walks in, pauses, and calmly says, "Leave my room."
Uh, sure.  Why not?  So I step into the kitchen,
calling back, "You gonna play by yourself?"  And I hear
yes" and the door slamming shut - politely, of course.

So then we have me showing up to another friend's house
to watch 5 for 4 hours...

The 5 month old boy was very happy IF being held.  I
was warned before they left, but boy howdy.  So, the
2 moms showed me how to get him into a ring sling
before they left.  No prob.  Until an hour later when
I needed to switch shoulders, couldn't do it, and had
to wear the sling, weighing 20 pounds, as a necklace.
If he'd been content enough to put down for 3 minutes,
that would've worked out fine...

(Not that I'M gonna mind holding a baby!)

After everyone had 2 cheese sticks and 2-3 yogurts, we
started the movie.  At this point, the 5 year old
really just watched the movie, and gave a piece of his
candy to the 3 year old girl.  Easy.

I'm upstairs with Baby strapped on, looking for a
bottle.  3 year old yelling for someone to come wipe
him from the bathroom.  Trying to get down the stairs,
unable to see my feet, yelling at 7 year old to turn
down the movie volume, David calls.  "I can come over
in 20 minutes."  "K."  "I don't know what kind of fast
food they have on the way."  "I have to kill a bug.
Bye."  Click.  Hobble down 3 steps.  Gingerly step on
bug 3 feet up the wall.  "I'm coming!" to kid in
bathroom.  Finish staircase adventure.

"I need you to wipe my bottom." "Uhhh."  (Here's the
issue:  I can't reach the toilet paper.  Neither can
he.  I can't lean forward - baby'll fall.)  "[7
year old!] I need help."  He comes running.  "Can
you reach the toilet paper?"  "I don't wipe."  And he
goes back to the movie...

Toddler ends up turning sideways so I can get through
to the paper.  Grunt.  Groan.  I wipe toosh.  I run
my thumb through poo.  My other hand is the only
thing anchoring the baby.  Toddler pulls off
everything waist down and runs out - to watch the
movie with the other kids.  So I'm standing in the
bathroom, baby falling, poo on one hand, bug on shoe,
and naked toddler on the couch.  And I cracked up
laughing.

So there's the one-handed hand wash.  "This better be
anti-bacterial."

Then "[Toddler], upstairs.  You have to have pants on."
... "Upstairrrs."

Further instruction every step, and half way up, he
sticks his head through the banister trying to keep
watching the movie.  "[7,] I need you to turn the movie
off.  We'll be able to turn it back on after Toddler has
clothes on."  And 7 yells, "Put your CLOTHES on!"  Bingo.

Toddler runs upstairs into bedroom and yanks open dresser
drawer.  "They're in here."  No undies to be seen.  "Uh,
where are your underwear?"  "This isn't my room."
(eyeroll)  "Where is your room?"  He runs out into
another one and yanks open another drawer.  "They're in
here!"  "I don't see any."  I'm looking around the room.
Then he pulls open a cabinet I hadn't seen.  And dives
in.  A few folded things fly and he emerges with undies.
Perfect.  He's sitting on the floor with them now.
"Which way do they go?"  "That's right."  He gets them
on.

Yelling downstairs to 7:  "You can turn the movie back
on. Toddler has clothes on."  Toddler panics:  "I don't
have my pants on!"  "Where are your pants?"  More folded
things fly and he hops up with a pair, only to declare,
"These are too big!"  "Then they'll be very comfy.  Put
them on." He does.

The OTHER 3 year old is yelling to be wiped now.
Treacherous adventure down staircase.  Same stupid
can't-reach-the-paper scenario.  Except she has her feet
on the previous toddler's wet pants.  Pinky through poo
this time.  And the whole time, the baby leans against
me looking around with wide eyes and mouth open.  A
common baby look - but so appropriate.

And then I FINALLY go check on the kids watching the
movie, only to find Mr. these-are-too-big with his waist
band around his thighs.  Hm.  Sure enough.

Massive struggle to get Pants-Too-Big into his Mom's bed
as opposed to his own.  Visiting girl toddler was
supposed to have *his* bed.  It was a long ordeal
involving the girl, book in lap, looking at him seriously
and saying, "You have to obey."  Screaming boy.  Very
sober girl.  15 minutes.

David comes.  No one's asleep, but they're close enough
to run to their own beds and fake if they hear me.  Good
enough.

We stay downstairs in the dark, me constantly walking
and humming "Jesus loves me" to the baby.  Unable to stop
humming, I told David about the day very quietly to
the tune of "Jesus loves me."  Half an hour and the
baby's asleep.  We try to lay him down.  Solid sleep to
solid panic in 3 seconds.  "Yeah.  I do that when my
husband goes to work.  Come on."  10 minutes later I've
atleast been able to land in the rocking chair with him
already walked to sleep.

And from there, in the dark, and NOT to a tune, I'm able
to tell David, "I really do want 12."  And he smiled.
And nodded.

God must giggle...

So I just opened up my routine notebook to make sure I wasn't missing something pre-weekend. That's how I ended up blogging. Thing is, I haven't done anything all week! Except I've done a lot - God started something powerful Sunday morning - to the extent that when David asked me Monday night how my day was, I cracked up laughing - and couldn't stop. So, anyway, that's kinda between God and I, and it's taken the whole week, so I have nothing to actually blog about.

But, a week ago I saved some tight pictures to put on here - so I'll do that and get 'em off my hard drive. They'll probably get bigger if you click on 'em.

Oh, and here: Georgian Ben When you go to Georgian's page, music starts playing - and it's GOOD. And we're currently addicted to Ben's "Addiction" cd.