I HEART SP

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...

I *HEART*

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.

Countdowns

Today is the 29th of August. Two days away from the 31st, and it feels like a countdown to an event I can't stop from happening. I have to be honest and say I never really understood why the anniversary of someone's death was a big deal to those they left behind. Especially after a year or so... I mean, are you not 'used' to the fact that they're gone? Get on with your life already and stop moping, feeling sorry for yourself, wallowing in old sorrow. Then, it happened to me. I lost Grandma, and my perspective on life was altered forever. On August 31st, two days from now, Grandma will have been gone for three years. It doesn't seem possible, yet I know it's true. I haven't talked to her in three years. I haven't seen her face in three years. And since then, every time August has come around, beginning with August 1, the entire month feels like a countdown. I tried to describe it to Matt, and the only way I knew how was to say, it's sort of like, she's not gone yet, but the day I know she's leaving is ticking closer and closer, and I can't do anything to stop it. That is completely irrational, and yes, I know she's gone, but that date... August 31st... it's just hard. I know she's in heaven. I know she's beautiful and happy... so happy, but August 31st still sucks for us down here.

I pulled out her Bible this month. She came to Belle and Estella Dru's baby dedication at church (FBCS) in November, 9 months before she died. It was the day they handed out the Holman Christian Standard Bibles. She got one of the old people, big font versions, and she was so excited about it. Inside I found the baby dedication program with Belle and Dru's pictures. (They were so little, 18 months and 3 months.) She was also excited about following the one-year reading plan and followed it every single day. She had never read completely through the Bible before and complained profusely about Leviticus. (Don't we all...) I found her reading guide today and saw she had marked through every day, missing none. Her last mark was made next to August 29. Today. August 29. (She got sick that night, and the ambulance came the morning of the 30th.)

We are going home this weekend to be with Grandpa. It's a hard day for him, too. Plus his birthday is on Sept 3rd--the day we buried her. (Talk about something that sucks.) He'll be 86. I plan on taking the girls to get flowers and letting them put them on her grave. Belle still tells me she misses her, and Drusy wants to remember her so bad. I think a lot about what she'd think of Jeb. She would adore him. I can just see her holding him. And I think she would think I'm a good mom. Sometimes I think those are the words I want to hear the most from her. "You're doing good, Honey." Although, I'd settle for "Hi."

I just miss her.

Johnny Jump Up Malfunction

Jeb loves his Johnny Jump Up. So, today, when he began crying after only a few minutes of high-intensity jumping, I didn't even look up from what I was doing. Instead, I called around the corner (I couldn't see him from where I was...), "You're ok, Buddy. Keep jumping." But the cries grew louder and more frustrated. Finally, I went to check on him only to discover that his JJU had malfunctioned, and he was soaring through the air like Superbaby, periodically banging his head into the doorframe. Mom of the year, right here.




Yes, instead of rescuing him immediately, I ran for the camera. Some moments must be captured. (Pay no attention to the Organic Spring Vegetables and Rice baby food smeared all over his outfit.)

Yea, Golf Team!

Matt's golf team won their tournament tonight against Gentry, Gravette, Berryville, and Pea Ridge. One of his guys won 1st, and two others tied for 2nd. Yea, Golf Team!

Matt is already preparing Jeb to be the next Shiloh golf standout. He says he's going to be his "Daddy Caddy." Jeb does look pretty darn cute in a Shiloh golf hat.

Mystery Solved

Our 'buggy' mystery has been solved. (Thanks Cousin Denise and Mom.) Last Friday's house invader is called a house centipede. Specifically,

Order: Scutigeromorpha
Family: Scutigeridae
Genus and Species: Scutigera coleoptrata (Linnaeus)

And according to the University of Arkansas's Department of Entemology/Arthropod Museum webpage, (I'll highlight the good parts...)

"The house centipede is often seen darting across floors at high speed, occasionally stopping suddenly and remaining motionless for some time before racing off once more. Its cylindrical body can grow to an inch or more in length. It is yellowish brown and bears three dark longitudinal stripes dorsally. The 15 pairs of slender, banded legs increase in length from the front to the back of the body. The last pair is much longer than the others. The legs give the animal the appearance of great size. Unlike most other centipedes, house centipedes and their close relatives have well-developed, faceted eyes." ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!!!

OH IT GETS BETTER.

"In captivity, (What the heck does "in captivity" mean? As opposed to "in the wild"?) house centipedes feed readily on cockroach nymphs, flies, moths, bedbugs, crickets, silverfish, earwigs, and other insects and small spiders. They capture prey by half pouncing and half lassoing them. They can capture several prey items at one time. They feed on one specimen while holding the others with their quivering, lashing appendages (Lewis 1981)." AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

AND STILL MORE...

"Although house centipedes are not aggressive, and their jaws are not powerful enough to break human skin easily, they will sometimes bite in self-defense. Severe swelling and pain can result from the venom injected, but in most cases the bite is no worse than the sting of a bee."

Wikipedia adds, "The house centipede('s)... long, delicate legs and a rigid body... enable it to run with surprising speed... up walls and along ceilings and floors."

Needless to say, I am a walking, bug-killing arsenal. I see "well-developed, faceted eyes" everywhere. What the heck does "faceted" mean!!?? No... don't tell me. Do not tell me.

This is a zoomed in shot. Check the eye out for yourself.

What..... in the heck.... is this?

If you know me at all, you know I have an aversion to creepy, crawly things. Ok, 'aversion' may be too light of a word--I'm horrified. I will admit to having a frog-phobia, as well as panic attacks if anything 'buggy' comes near me. I don't know when I became this way. I was raised on a farm. I vividly remember being excited about smashing potato bugs (don't know their real name) between two rocks with Grandma in the garden. I used to collect the little black chicken house bugs (don't know their real name) until Grandpa would tell me to stop. I would dig up worms and chase down grasshoppers for fish bait and had no problem sliding a hook into their little bodies. (I'm near fainting just thinking about it.) And if by chance, the fish swallowed the hook, I wouldn't hesitate slicing the poor thing open to get my hook out. (Ah! The horror.) So, what happened to me? When did I morph into this ultra-squeamish, anti-creepy crawly GIRL who makes my five year old kill spiders and chase away frogs because I simply cannot do it? It's sad. Very sad.

Ok, so there's a little background for you. Now, let me tell you about the event that occurred this morning. I casually walked into my kitchen, completely unaware that I was being watched. I cleaned off my counter then unassumingly looked up to the ceiling, and there it was... a hideous creature with 498 legs just hanging there... waiting to make his move and drag me back to his lair. Brace yourselves.



AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! What in the heck is that thing? What did I do, you may ask. Seriously... you have to ask? I contemplated dialing 9-1-1. It IS the emergency number. But then decided to call Matt. He came home and couldn't believe how scary this thing looked. It tried to grab him, but Matt's cat-like reflexes gave him the advantage. (He IS the Shiloh golf coach, remember?) The battle was fierce, but Matt prevailed. Way to go, Husband. All is peaceful once again. Here's a picture of 'Stella after the killing was over. I think she's been traumatized. (She's frozen this way, by the way... eyes glazed over. It's very sad.)