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Monday, September 29, 2008

I've been tagged.

Thanks, ROBYN!! Ok, so the rules are I must list 7 weird or random facts about myself. Let's see....

1.) I don't swim very well.

2.) I was voted 'Most Athletic' in high school. (Stop laughing.)

3.) Dr. Seuss books scare me.

4.) I'm from Hector, Arkansas, yet I hate catfish and love sushi.

5.) I have never had the slightest desire to go to Disney World. (Disney characters freak me out.)

6.) The study of angels and demons/spiritual warfare intrigues me.

7.) If I could sit down and have a one-on-one conversation with anyone living in the world, it would be Beth Moore.

How's that for little-known facts?

Alright. I tag Michelle, Susan, Karey, Tosh, Janie, Sarah W., and Sherrilleta.

Sunday, September 28, 2008


Why do I google things? Why? Why? Why? I have admitted in previous posts to being somewhat of a cyberchondriac. (Oh, yes, that's a real word.) Every time I have something wrong, I get on the internet and attempt to find a self-diagnosis, which each and every time ends with my impending doom. But this time, I went a step further. Oh yes... much worse than searching for what fatal disease I have this week. Instead, I foolishly looked up how many calories are in Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Lattes. And I'm warning you... if you are in love with pumpkin spice lattes and praised the Lord above that fall has arrived, and with it, the seasonal latte flavor from Heaven, DO NOT READ A WORD MORE OF THIS POST. Instead, live obliviously, yet blissfully, without the knowledge I'm about to bestow.

Are you ready? A grande pumpkin spice latte, 2%, no whip, has 310 calories and 49 carbs!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME? It's liquid. Liquid! Not a loaf of bread. How can this possibly be? And to make matters worse... my stand-by, non-seasonal, anytime of year, drink of choice, a grande vanilla latte, 2%, has 250 calories with 36 carbs! Those numbers are the equivalent to an entire meal. Not coffee. Shock. Utter shock. That's what I'm in.

Want to check the facts on your favorite drink? (Think long and hard before you do any clicking. Oh, if I could turn back time...) Go to the Starbucks site and check it out. This link will pull up the facts on the pumpkin spice latte, but you can change it to anything you want. GO HERE.

There are some things in life I just do not need to know. This, was one of them.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

In case you see my child and wonder...

No, I did not cut Estella Dru's hair and give her bangs. She did it all on her own today with a pair of safety scissors. It could have been a lot worse, I guess. Still... if you see my child and wonder, "Why would Angela do that do her hair?" The answer is, I didn't. She did.

Friday, September 26, 2008

More life with Baby Jeb

If anyone sees my husband, please tell him he needs to come home and lower the crib. This is a first. Jeb was crying before his nap. I opened up the door to his room, and this is what I saw. He's pulling up! Ah, how my life is about to change. I thought for sure I had another few weeks. Dang it!

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Oh, Jeb.

This is the fifth time this week I've had to come to my son's rescue....

I do not see G/T in our future.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008


I confess. I have been having way too much fun with Yearbook Yourself. Again, if you haven't tried it, you really should. CLICK HERE. When you go there, make sure you have a picture of someone ready to upload to the site. (It needs to be a face shot.) I thought since the last post was a bit too serious, I would lighten things up a bit. Here's the picture of myself I used....

And here is what it said I would have looked like in 1964...

Dear Jesus, thank you for not letting me be alive in 1964. Amen.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Apple Trees

I try to keep my blog light. Not many deep thoughts or critical discussions here. I’ll leave that to the serious bloggers. But something in particular has been on my heart lately—just a thought that I can’t shake, and so…. I’ll write about it.

I remember one Thanksgiving at Grandma’s when my Aunt Shirley was there with her sons and grandchildren. Several of the grandkids were playing outside before lunch, including my little cousin, AJ, who was around ten or so that year. When the time came to call the kids in for lunch, we walked out to find AJ standing next to Grandma’s apple tree. All the kids came running in, but AJ explained he was “just going to stay outside for a while.” It was cold that year, but we conceded. Maybe just a bit longer. Several minutes passed. The other kids sat around the table eating their lunch, and still, no AJ. My Aunt Shirley went back out to call him in again, and there he was, still standing by the apple tree, shivering in the cold and clearly not having any fun. But once more, his response to his grandma was, “I’m just going to hang out here for a while.” It wasn’t until one of the other kids let the cat out of the bag that we figured out AJ’s situation. Paige, his little cousin who was probably six at the time, had somehow talked him into letting her tie him to the apple tree. The only problem was, she left him there, and AJ, being older and a boy, was too embarrassed to confess his predicament and ask for help. The poor little guy was completely willing to miss a tremendous Thanksgiving lunch and suffer in the cold until he figured out a way to free himself from his chains (actually, baler twine Paige had snatched from a bale of Grandpa’s hay). And let me tell you, as an eyewitness to the situation, not even the smallest possibility existed he could have gotten loose by himself. Had it not been for a slightly amused rescue party, he would still be in Grandma’s backyard tied to the apple tree.

And it makes me wonder…. Why do I sometimes stand in the backyard of my life, with my hands bound, shivering in the cold because I’m too afraid and ashamed to go to God with my fears? How ridiculous of me. As if He, the One who created me, is capable of learning something new about me. AJ assumed that if he didn’t tell what happened to him, he could keep it from us… that we wouldn’t find out what he had done. Sadly, I do the exact same thing with God. Instead of coming right out and saying, “Oh no, Father. Look what I’ve done this time,” I try to pretend I’m fine, and so the masquerade goes on. I forget there are no masquerades with God. He sees me, sees through me. He’s meeting me where I am and telling me “it’s time to come on in,” yet so many times, in my confusion and embarrassment, I reply with, “I’m just going to hang out here for a while.” And in doing so, I miss out on a feast.

There is one apple tree in particular, that I’ve been tied to for some time now and have been spending the last few days asking God to come cut the baler twine for me. In my shame, it’s almost impossible for me to remember that my Father never looks down on me with disgust, nor is He humiliated that I belong to Him. Instead, He comes to my rescue each and every time with compassion and a love that I feel burn through every part of me. I so want to make Him proud.

So, does this post have a purpose other than allowing me to air my emotions out through writing? Not really, I guess, other than to challenge anyone reading this to check and see if they’re stuck to an apple tree of their own. I’ll be the first to confess, it’s hard to admit you can’t break free from something without help, but I think it’s definitely worth the feast that waits for us when we do.

Friday, September 19, 2008

The REAL Cowboy/girl Day

Not only was I wrong about the DAY of cowgirl dress up, I was wrong about the event itself. It was a trail ride, not a rodeo. And it was precious. Belle named her stick horse, Isabelle Pony. (She oozes with creativity.) Isabelle Pony is pictured below, and is hilarious. The kids had a great day, and they were so stinkin' cute. Matt said when he got Belle in the truck today to leave for school, she said, "Daddy are you SURE today is dress up day?" He said, "Yes, Honey. I promise it's today." To which she replied, "Are you SURE? Did you watch the news and find out?" She's scarred. I know it.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Seven Months

Jeb Sullivan is 7 months old today!

Wednesday, September 17, 2008


As mothers, we have our ups and downs.... days when we feel like we should wear those #1 MOM t-shirts and days when we should wave a white flag and hide in a deep dark closet. This morning, I proudly slipped into my #1 MOM shirt. Belle's kindergarten class spent the earlier part of this week making stick horses. They've been studying 'the farm', and today they planned a stick horse rodeo. No Shiloh dress today. Instead, they were to dress as cowboys/cowgirls. Belle was so excited. And me, being mom-of-the-year, decided to make sure she was the most adorable little cowgirl in kindergarten. We did the clothes, the hair, the hat. Mom did good. She was so precious. Take a look for yourself...

Actually, the one and only problem was that once Matt got her to school, she seemed to be the ONLY cowperson there. Yes, the stick horse rodeo/dress up day isn't until Friday. If you need me, I'll be in the closet with my flag.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Monday Pictures

Aunt Modean

Back in grad school, I wrote a paper about my great-aunt, Modean. It's an incredibly sad story that I discovered while digging through my grandma's cedar chest. (Everyone's grandma has a cedar chest, right?) Anyway, I found a stack of letters my Aunt Modean wrote to my grandma back in the 40's when they were both young women--Modean was just 25, and Grandma was even younger. I was intrigued by what I read and wanted to find out more. Luckily, the next semester of grad school, the professor in one of my courses wanted us to write a paper about lost freedoms. I saw my opportunity to do some research and put the pieces of Modean's story together. My professor, Dr. Earl Schrock, who is a jewel of a man not to mention teacher, thought I should try to submit the paper for publication. I didn't agree, but relented a bit and sent it to a small historical society that was relevant to the story. Anyway... I knew the paper was still floating somewhere out there on the web, but yesterday I realized it was still up on the website. The paper concerns tuberculosis, and apparently, many people relate to the story... and as a result, they haven't taken it down. Now, keep in mind, this was written in grad school, and as I re-read it, I cringe at all the stuff I'd like to go back and re-write. BUT it's a great story, though very, very, very sad. It's sort of long, and boring in parts, but I thought I'd share, especially for my family who read this blog and may not know Modean's story.

So, CLICK HERE, then scroll down to the FEATURED ITEMS OF INTEREST SECTION (under 'White Squirrels and Old Home Remedies!!), and you'll find it there.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Crying over spilled formula

For anyone having to buy baby formula, you know it costs five gazillion dollars a can. (No, I'm not a breast-feeder. Yes, I know I'm going to hell for it, so please no don't leave me a comment and remind me of my impending fate.) So today I was already having a difficult day. I go to make Jeb a bottle and drop the entire can of powdered gold onto the floor. I spent the next 15 minutes delicately pinching up every last bit I could that I thought hadn't touched the floor and putting it back into the can. Then I looked into the can and noticed two cat hairs and an unidentified black speck. Arrrggh! I gave up and threw the entire thing into the trash. The next 5 minutes I spent weeping on my kitchen floor. I'm better now and can almost laugh about it. Almost. (And yes, darn it, I took a picture.)

Wednesday, September 10, 2008


This afternoon, I had big plans for writing. I was going to finish a chapter no matter what. I put Jeb in his walker and left him in the living room with his sisters watching cartoons. I told them, "Watch your brother." I was committed. Dedicated. No matter what, I was going to.... (2 minutes and 14 seconds later, this comes walking in...) My camera sits next to my keyboard. This is what I turned and saw. Writing session over. Very cute, my little perpetual distraction.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Estella Dru

Drusy posed for this picture yesterday afternoon for the promise of a brownie. She got two.

Monday, September 8, 2008

Cell Phone Blunder

I am just not that mom who gives her kids anything they want. #1) Because I couldn't if even I wanted to and #2 and mainly) because I love them more than anything in this world and refuse to equip them with the belief that the universe and everything in it (including me) revolves around them. It doesn't. I don't. As a result of my refusal to raise little narcissists, the words "No, honey," can be heard quite often around our home. But.... I just didn't see this one coming. My 6 month old has a love affair my cell phone. LOVES it. Here's a squeaky toy, Jeb... here's a warm, delicious bottle.... here's a really bright, colorful, yummy chewy something..... No. He prefers the hard, silver, no-flavor-whatsoever cell phone.

So, last night on the way home from church, he spotted the phone in my hand. He cried. I said 'no'. (In a sweet baby voice, of course.) He cried some more. I handed it to him. My first mistake. My second mistake was not taking it away from him once we got home. By the time I got to it, I might as well have thrown it into Lake Fayetteville because it was drenched... and I mean soaked through and through in baby slobber and dead as a doornail. Bye bye, cell phone.

Needless to say, I've learned my lesson. No more cell phones to babies. Here's a few pictures of him relishing his victory and hard-sought prize.

Friday, September 5, 2008


... a shot I got today of Sweet Addis while his mommy and brother and sister were at the doctor. The camera died before I got one of Sophie. (Next time, Soph, I promise.)

Wednesday, September 3, 2008


Clearly I do this blog thing for fun. I know there are some blogs out there that use their voice to loudly declare their controversial ideas and views on certain topics. Don't get me wrong, there is a time and place to take a stand, but a stand should be taken wisely and not merely for the purpose of taking it. That being said, every once in a while, I foolishly give in and go read such blogs just to see how mad it can make me. For example, a certain author of a somewhat popular Christian blog (that shall remain nameless) uses her venue to champion the cause of her opinions on such issues as child immunizations, certain aspects of child rearing, certain types of birth control.... The writer is extremely passionate about these issues (not that it's bad to be passionate) but somewhat critical of those who do not adhere to her beliefs. At one point, I summoned up the courage to leave a comment (although I did it as "Anonymous"... I didn't say I'm not a big fat chicken), to which she promptly commented back and put me squarely in my place. I'll be honest. It hurt. In one fell swoop, she indirectly questioned my Christianity and knowledge of the issue I had taken offense to. At that point, I gracefully bowed out of the comment fight, reminded myself that we all have the right to an opinion, and vented my frustrations to Matt. It sort of went something like this, "Who does she think she is? Does SHE wanna talk education? No, I do NOT think she wants to talk education. I'll talk education! And how long has SHE been saved? 9 years old right here, Buddy. 9 years old at church camp. Oh yeah, I said church camp. Does she think she's writing the gospel? Because let me tell you... there is only one of those, and last I checked, she wasn't one of the authors." In short, blogs like that sort of bother me... which in turn, bother Matt.

SO... that being said, I hesitate to post anything on my blog that throws an opinion of mine in anyone's face who may disagree with my point of view. I do hold strong opinions on many issues, but this blog is not and will never be the venue to debate such. It is, however, about what's going on with me, and tonight, what's going on with me is that I simply cannot curb my enthusiasm. I apologize in advance if this offends anyone, but here goes...


Fun with Baby (Bear Mauling)

It's raining outside, so Jeb and I are stuck indoors. I decided to try to get a few pictures of him with Belle's bear, Monkey, who now resides in Jeb's room. (Matt named the poor animal, so need I say more?) Anyway, our photo session was a flop. The entire time Jeb attacked Monkey like a crazy baby. It was an all-out mauling. Poor, Monkey. He was much safer when he was Belle's. These are the only decent ones I got.

Below are some of the mauling shots. (*No animals were in any way harmed during the taking of these photographs. All parties involved are trained professionals.*)

I love this last one. Rooooaaaar. I... am... baby! Fear me, Beast.