Thursday, June 23, 2016

nine squares...

Here was our day (yesterday) summed up in nine little squares:

Gluten-free Lucky Charms. Outfit change. Visit to the doctor. Magazine reading. Conference calls. Snuggles. Giggles. Baby cheeks!

This doesn't include:

Watching Zootopia. Crafting. Starbucks. Post Office run. Laundry. Making dinner. And someone refusing to nap. I'll let you decide who participated in what! LOL. As our favourite Fancy Nancy says at the end of one of her books: "I'm pooped!"

Little Leighton is currently in a phase of wanting to change outfits all. day. long. Yesterday, it was only two outfits. The day before? FOUR. This might do me in. ELC told her she should probably consider runway modeling for a career.

This is such a precious and BUSY season of my life. ELC's post, "Texan Idle," really spoke to me. Although too many of my days feel quite long, I know the years will suddenly become far too short. I am determined to slow down and, as she advises, "Stop and smell the roses!" Our Sweet Baby Elle is THREE months old now. I want to cry. Time can be hard on a Mama's Heart.

Happy Friday Eve, Friends! Let's all promise to savor this weekend and soak up every last bit of sunshine and summer that we can.

Wednesday, June 22, 2016


So this week I have two more of my four laser treatments on my fractured toe. I do feel it’s better. Whether or not the laser is responsible—or it was just going to heal on its own—I don’t know. I’ll have an x-ray tomorrow and see the doctor.

This toe situation has made me very aware of my age. My aging issues. I’ve shared in the past that I don’t care about wrinkles. I don’t care about grey hair. I’m not fond of my turkey neck. Thank goodness there are button-up shirts and scarves for that—when I can’t stand looking at it another second. I view the condition of my body—and soul—and spirit—and heart—as a reward for still being here on Earth.

This toe has made me a teensy bit more worried, however, about osteoporosis. I’m there. I’m at the line on the chart. In fact—that was last August. I could be over the line—at this point. I don’t want a broken hip. Or any other broken bone.

The nineteen stairs I climb to Little Leighton’s (aka LL aka Biscuit) playroom and TLC’s guest room (aka Grammy’s Room—winky wink!) are a challenge I face at least ten times a day (sometimes it’s twenty!) each visit to TLC’s casa. Biscuit fell down those stairs—right in front of me—a few weeks back. It was a nightmare. I could nothing to help her. She fell down ten of them. As she’d roll over, she’d look at me with the most frightened eyes I never want to see again. (I’ve always wondered if I could scream in a scary/terrifying situation. I haven’t had that urge in at least 40 years. I can. I did. So did TLC—who watched the incident happen and was helpless, too. Biscuit, thank You Lord God, was okay. But I still see her tumbling and I cringe and shiver at the memory.) H.O.R.R.I.B.L.E. Before we can blink, Baby Elle will learn to walk and navigate the stairs. I’ll need major meds.

Not only do I have TLC’s casa to survive. There’s our cute little Hunter, The Cat. One can watch him like a hawk yet he still ends up between your two feet as you walk outside. We needed to name him Houdini. He’s fast and amazing. There’s also Buddy. The Dog. Who is the color of our wood floor and easy to trip over at night—when lights are off.

But the biggest issue I have? My own clumsiness. I’ve been an accident-waiting-to-happen my entire life. MY. ENTIRE. LIFE.

This Wednesday, and every day, my first goal is to not break any more bones. Period.

I hope you're having a Charming Camel Day, Sweet Friends—Wherever in the World you are!

Sunday, June 19, 2016

The Gift of Courage...

Lord, Jesus, what You said to Your disciples on the night before your crucifixion is the promise I want to claim for this day of my journey though difficult times: “In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world.” I hear You whisper in my soul, “Take courage! It’s yours!” The imperative is bracing and stirring.

I know I can take hold of the gift of courage, because You have taken a hold of me. “Fear not, I am with you!” are Your courage-inducing words. Fear in these nerve-stretching days drives me to prayer. Courage displaces caution and reserve. I know that nothing can happen that will not bring me closer to You. What You give or withhold always is for my growth. My honest prayers are not an escape from reality and responsibility, but an encounter with them.

Thank You for courage that is based on convictions I cannot deny. You give me courage to act when I know what love demands. You energize my will to put into action costly obedience to You. Courage moves me from panic to Your perspective on things, and then to peace. Give me heightened awareness of what needs to be done, humble attentiveness to Your way to get it done, and honest accountability to You for faithful follow-through. Courage is the greatest virtue You give me because it makes possible all the rest. You will give the power to overcome rather than be overwhelmed. Thank You, Lord!

(John 16:33 NASB.)

In Your Son Jesus’ name, I pray.


(From Praying Through the Tough Times, by Lloyd John Ogilvie.)

I hope each of you has a Wonderful Week—Wherever in the World You Are!


Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Texan Idle

At least five out of seven days a week (my goal is always seven out of seven—I’m being real with Y’all tonight…), I have Morning Prayer in my bedroom, using four prayer books and Jesus Calling. This was one of my prayers this morning:

She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.

            Proverbs 31:27

Lord, I thank You for the wisdom You give me each day to watch over the affairs of my household. Give me energy to accomplish my work and to keep our home organized and running smoothly. Help me to be a good time manager and to stay centered on Your purposes. I need to get my tasks done, but I also want to nurture and cherish my relationships. Empower me, Lord. Help our home to be a place of order, peace and enjoyment.


(from Prayers with Purpose for Women by Jackie M. Johnson)

I’ve gone through this prayer book—from beginning to end—several times since I bought it 5-ish years ago. There are many, MANY prayers that speak to me. About me. That I need to read over. And over. (This could be one I need to read every day. Truth.) This morning, as I read this, I thought of TLC. I’ve thought of her before—when reading this prayer. Also as I’ve read others—as they seem to apply more to her age, time and place in this World—at this point in her life.

TLC EXCELS at watching “over the affairs” of her household. Trust me. She’s extremely organized. Refers daily to herself as someone suffering from OCD when it comes to cleaning and keeping her home in order. Frankly, when I’m there, she wears me out! (I wish she'd influence me more and make me better at all of the things I should do at my casa!) I wasn’t much like her when I was her age.

First, I had one child. Not two. Yes, I had three stepsons who lived with us during their junior high and high school years. (My Sweet Husband’s—MSH—youngest son—of his four—only actually lived with us once for less than six months.) The Guys were mostly gone during the week. School. Sports. Work. I always had food for them to eat when they came home—but it was futile to try to cook for them. On Sundays, I often prepared a nice meal for all us—or MSH grilled a meal we could eat all together. Sometimes it happened. Sometimes it was only the three of us: me, TLC and MSH. I cared nothing about cooking. Washing dishes. Even grocery shopping. I performed all of these tasks. As needed  and with a bored, unfulfilled heart. TLC is the Queen of All of Those Things!

Housekeeping? It was hit-and-miss for moi when TLC was growing up. Again, having teenaged boys around—and then TLC during her junior high and high school years—wasn’t always conducive to a spotless home. I chose, early on, to pick my battles about their rooms. Their help with chores. When I had my Bridge Club over—or a baby or wedding shower—or a PTA meeting—I worked my fingers to the bone cleaning. Every inch of our home—minus the boys’ rooms—would be spotless. (Those doors were shut!) That meant our home was super clean about six to eight times a year. Winky. Wink. In between? Whatever. I made beds. I cleaned potties. I kept up with laundry and vacuumed fairly regularly. I was mucho happier doing other FUN things: errands around town; going to the park with TLC; visiting with friends; attending meetings; having lunch out with My Peeps and/or TLC and Her Peeps.  I confess to Y’all I was mostly happier out-and-about. Don’t get me wrong: I was proud of our home and enjoyed being there. I needed, however, to flit. A lot. It was MY OCD.

Clearly, this prayer makes me think of TLC because she adores being a homemaker, wife and Mom. She treasures a clean house and a lovely, healthy dinner meal. She needs her fridge and cabinets to be organized and pretty. She craves “SMOOTH.”

Although I cherish these qualities about my daughter, I find myself periodically telling her to STOP and SMELL the ROSES. Let some cleaning go. Have Her Hubby get some takeout for them and give Little Leighton (LL) a simple  (frozen) gluten-free lunch and/or dinner. (LL’s quite easy to please.)

In her defense, TLC is trying to get more laid-back. It goes against her genes (from MSH). Against her nature and personality. But she’s trying. That’s all any of us can ever do, right?

Gotta scoot—gotta go hang up some laundry and fold some towels! (I’m ready for jammies and the mindless stuff on TV! Unfortunately for me, MSH needs clean underwear. Ha.)

Have a Terrific Thursday and Fabulous Friday, Dearest Friends…