Guess Who's a What!!

(2 blogs, 1 day = difficulty focusing)

This year, my daughter, Megan, decided she wanted to try out for the school choir, The Bayshore Singers. Auditions were this morning and she was excited and ready to go.

This afternoon, I walked into my classroom after some after-school duties and she was waiting in my room.

She grabbed both my arms and said, "GUESS WHO'S A WHAT!!"

I said, "You're a Bayshore Singer??!"

And she screamed, "YES!!!!" and jumped up into my arms. (And I wonder why my back hurts, lol.)

She is so excited to have made it through auditions and to have made the choir. And so I had to come brag a bit about my girl. Mom's are supposed to do that, you know. Isn't it nice that we enjoy it so much??? :D

Alli Strikes Again, aka, What Are YOUR Kids Watching?

We're hanging out this evening watching Spongebob and a few minutes ago commercials came on. Now, thanks to DVR technology, I almost never watch commercials anymore, but tonight we're watching "Live."

So a commercial came on with some man and his dog and the man said he was going to be hosting the Fido Awards on Nick at Nite.

Alli looked over at me and I THOUGHT she said, "Nick at Nite? ... So do we need to get naked???"

I said, "What????" Then it hit me, and I told her, "NOT Naked Night, NICK...at Nite."

So what are YOUR kids watching???

Just a quote from Alli...

Problably one of those have-to-be-there sorts of things....or something only a mother enjoys, but I'm writing it anyway, because this is MY blog and I can write whatever I want, lol. :D

Al was playing with some boxes I have. They're the kind that fit inside each other like nesting dolls. These particular ones actually turn into a sort of Santa Claus if you take them out and stack them up. Don't ask me why she has them out in September.

She took them out and apart, then put them back together and said, "Three boxes that fit into one. That's dandy!"

Indeed it is.

Where to?

Where do you go after "hoarse crack"? Now there's a question you never thought you'd hear, huh? Well, I'd never really anticipated such a question either, but then again, I never really anticipated someone telling me I've got hoarse crack. But, regardless of expectations and anticipations, that's the question of the evening.

Hmmmm...what do you say we talk about my cooking? Sad that the term "hoarse crack" makes me think of my cooking, but, well, if you'd ever ate something I cooked, you might see the connection.

You think I kid, don't you? Think I'm being rough on myself? Well, let's see. Come with me. You'll have to be really quiet, because we're going to spy. Spy on who? Well, my toughest critics: my children.

Let's have a look:

It's a Friday evening and my kids have become a little too accustomed to "convenience foods." But, like Old Mother Hubbard's cupboards, mine were looking pretty bare, so I resorted to cooking from scratch. This alone raised suspicion, but desperate times call for desperate measures, so scratchin' I did. I can't recall right now just exactly what I made, but it was nothing bizarre and really wasn't a flop. Now, admittedly, it was also NOT gourmet, but we aren't exactly the silver spoon set, so we don't see much gourmet, anyway.

The girls took their dishes and headed to the living room to watch some tv while they ate. I was still doing something (again I don't remember what) so I remained in the kitchen...which actually was open to the living room. It was one of those "great room" setups. So I wasn't sitting with them, but I could hear them and see them. Now listen closely and you can hear them, too.

Allison: Pray! (Allison's command for "saying Grace".)
Megan: (quietly) We'd better pray that this stuff is edible.

Do I really need to say more? Probably not, but I'll give you another example. Again, it comes from my toughest critics.

This summer we were visiting family in Montana. My mom, my sister in law, my brother and I were sitting in Mom's living room. My niece said something about someone's cooking being good. Then she said something like, "Well all three of you are good cooks." I chuckled and said, "Well, Faithie, technically I'm not that good." And as she sweetly smiled at me, my daughter tried coming to my defense by saying, "Well, Mom, you don't really cook. You microwave."

With "friends" like these....

Ok, one more case in point. Within the last month I again was doing some real cooking. I asked the girls what they thought of whatever it was I'd cooked and Allison looked at me and said, "Not bad for a beginning cooker, Mom."

So there ya have it...my cooking naturally follows the subject of hoarse crack.

Go figure.

A 5-Year-Old's Diagnosis

Well, this was day two without a voice. I was only hoarse when I left school yesterday. Today my voice cut in and out, but when it was "in" it was pretty weak. This really perplexes 5-year-olds. (Can you make 'perplex' a verb?)

One little boy came into my classroom this morning and upon hearing my voice became immediately interested. He sat down at a computer near me and after a few minutes he turned to me and said (in his little gruff booming voice), "You've got hoarse crack!" (Or was it 'horse crack'? I've got no idea.) I chuckled and said, "You mean I have a hoarse voice." He looked at me like that was about the most ridiculous thing in the world and said, very emphatically, "You don't got a hoarse voice! You've got hoarse crack!!"

I think I feel worse now that I've got a diagnosis.

"I Miss My Time With You"

I know we all hold different beliefs, but I'm going to talk personally here. Time for some serious.

Yeeeeears ago...like when I was a teenager (that really really hurt to type)...Larnelle Harris came out with a song called, "I Miss My Time With You." And although it grieves my heart to confess, I think that song is what God is singing about me these days. Here are the words...

"There he was just waiting,
in our old familiar place
an empty spot beside him,
where once i used to wait
To be filled with strength and wisdom
for the battles of the day
I would have passed him by again
If I didn't hear him say

(chorus)
I miss my time with you
Those moments together
I need to be with you each day
And it hurt's me when you say
You're too busy
Busy trying to serve me
But how can you serve me
When your spirit's empty
Tthere's a longing in my heart
Wanting more than just a part of you
It's true.......I miss my time with you

What do I have to offer
How can I truly care
My efforts have no meaning
When your presence isn't there
But you will provide the power
If I take time to pray
I'll stay right here beside you
And you will never have to say...

I miss my time with you
Those moments together
I need to be with you each day
And it hurt's me when you say
You're too busy
Busy trying to serve me
But how can you serve me
When your spirit's empty
Tthere's a longing in my heart
Wanting more than just a part of you
It's true.......I miss my time with you"

(If you care to hear it, youtube will oblige at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XtDoQUQuQBQ)

That song stung my heart all those years ago...and it still does today. I struggle...and always have...with anything involving discipline. (Thank God for a high metabolism...seriously.) And along those lines of discipline come the spiritual discipline of taking time out of each day just to spend in God's word. To allow Him to speak to me and to teach me His ways and His wisdom. To be with Him and draw upon His strength.

And the thing is...the thing that makes that song speak so loudly to me...is the personal nature of it. God, through Jesus, is very personal with me. I know some don't understand it. I know some haven't experienced it. And I know that some aren't interested right now. And that grieves my heart. It really does. How much a person misses by not experiencing the personal relationship we can have with Jesus. It's not a matter of rules...of do's and don'ts. It's not even JUST a matter of eternity, life after death...it's about here and now. It's about hope and strength in the middle of a world that doesn't offer much. It's about love and joy when things around us can bring such unhappiness. It's about healing and wholeness in the midst of disease and brokenness.

It may sound to some like I'm preaching (if you've bothered to read this far.) But I don't mean it that way at all. I don't mean it as judgement or a setting of myself above anyone else. Because YOUR relationship with God is personal, too. And anyway, your relationship with Him isn't even why I'm writing this.

I'm talking about my own. What is God saying to me these days? Well...a few things. First would be the message of the song...that He misses me.

Secondly, I think if He were sitting here and speaking with audible voice, He'd be telling me that He is all I need. Something in my heart has always wanted "someone" to fill it. I've loved the Lord and spiritually He IS enough. But I get my sight off Him and I long for a human to tell me that they love me...that they choose me...that they want to be with me more than anyone else in the world. And I get so absorbed in that longing, that I don't give God time. And how can He be all I need if I don't let Him in like I should? If my focus isn't on Him? So I think that would be a big thing He'd say, too.

And thirdly, I think He'd tell me that I'm not alone. That I don't have to carry everything alone. I struggle as a single mom, trying to be everything an entire family and household need. And I get to pitying the situation and feeling like I'm in it alone. But the truth is, I'm not. If I could count the times I've specifically realized that God provided or came through for me there wouldn't be enough space on this blog. And there are heaps more that only He realizes because...well...sometimes I'm clueless. (Please don't tell anyone; my cluelessness is a secret.)

I'm sure He could come up with a whole lot more to say. And Him being the wise one, I'm sure He'd have other truth that I wouldn't even suspect....but it would meet a need and it would heal a hurt and it would bring me another step closer to wholeness.

I love God. I love Jesus. I know to some that sounds like mumbo jumbo...something someone just says, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart. Without Him, I'm nothing. There have been plenty of people in this world who prove that's about the value they'd place on me. But WITH Him...I'm SOMEONE. To Him, I have worth.

So I'm thinking it's time I started giving Him more time. Give Him the chance again to work in my heart.

Just thought I'd share....

The Sounds of Silence...It's Not Just Music Anymore

Remember this song? (From Sesame Street)

"Has anybody seen my dog?
Has anybody seen my dog?
He left me crying, wo-wo-wo
Why'd he ever have to go?"

It's much longer than that. That's just the part that came to mind easily.

Well, I just wasted a hefty amount of time trying to find it SOMEWHERE on the internet (without paying) and I must say...it is a carefully guarded item. Lyrics? Easy. Audio? Not so easy.

Anyway, I was just looking for it because...for whatever reason...it came to mind. Only, I thought it should be changed to...

Has anybody heard my voice?
Has anybody heard my voice?
It's left me speechless, wo-wo-wo
Why'd it ever have to go?

But here I sit in near-silence, and the internet returns that silence over and over again.

::sigh:: Such a loss.

How can I sing along with Mamma Mia when I can barely croak out a "Hello?"

My little kindergarteners will think they've hit the jackpot. They can talk over me without even trying now. Recess is bound to be an unhappy experience tomorrow. Tsk, tsk, tsk. 'Tis a pity, I know.

Oh the ever-lovin' inconvenience of it all.

BUT, let's face it, there are times when we all love silence. Crave it, even. For example:

1. The end of the day. Case in point: just this afternoon, I was after my own children to keep it down. They were in typical "I'M FREEEEEEE" mode like all children right after school. And I was in a teacher's typical "Can EVERYONE please...just...stop...talking?" mode. At which point, of course, at least one person starts making some other sound like...

...leaning back in their chair so it creaks like a rusty door hinge.

...humming.

...plinking their pencils or crayons on the table.

...spinning their scissors around one finger on the tabletop.

...TALKING anyway...as if they had no clue.

...making loud sighing sounds.

...insisting that they have to go to the bathroom...RIGHT...NOW!!!

...and my personal favorite, outright yelling, because they're five and occasionally they just let loose.

I was in that "please no more noise" mode. Maybe it wasn't because of a long busy day. Maybe it was because my voice was on the way out and I was feeling jealous of the vocal world. I don't know. It's hard to say.

2. When listening to some real awe-inspiring music, like Josh Groban. SILENCE PLEASE. Close your eyes and you can almost FEEL the beauty of the music. It's incredible.

3. During the news. Booo hiss! (I just don't go for the news. It tries to scare me and I'm trying really hard to be brave, here. So don't tell me a killer's on the loose. I know they're out there anyway, but don't make me concentrate on it, k?)

4. When we're on the phone? Hmmmm. Now how many moms would like the luxury of silence around them when they're on the phone? Why is it that despite the phone you have pressed against your ear, the movement of your lips, and the sound of your voice, a child still thinks they can talk to you at the same time? Why is that when they begin practicing for their "American Idol" auditions? WITH AMPS of course? Why oh why?

5. When we're sorting out nasty things like checkbooks and bank accounts. Of course that's when the kids start singing "The Numbers Rhumba."

6. When you have a killer headache...like the sort you get with a sinus infection. Those are fun. And noise makes them even better, no?

7. When I pray.

8. When I read. I can't listen to music AND read. It's got to be one or the other. You can forget all about multi-tasking, people.

Well, I guess I've rambled on long enough. There was really no point to this post...which is most likely the reason you don't get it. There's nothing to get. It's just a natural sedative...and me pining for a voice.