There's nothing quite like a full afternoon/evening of plans being thwarted by a virulent stomach bug. Today, my friend an I had an elaborate plan to get our children together for swimming and dinner.
That might not sound elaborate, but when my part involves getting 3 children rested, dressed, and packed for an early evening swim PLUS preparing my part of the dinner, things can spiral out of control very quickly.
We headed out to our friend's house, but when we were about 10 minutes away, she called me and told me her daughter was experiencing severe gastrointestinal distress.
To put it mildly.
We decided that I would go ahead and bring my kiddos for a swim and quick dinner because the chips, carrots and dip I "prepared" for my half of the deal weren't really going to cut it for a well-balanced dinner.
We drove a bit further and just before we reached their house, Piper decided it was her turn to vomit. Because I was ill-prepared to clean breakfast reruns off of her carseat, I continued to my friend's house to at least get some paper towels before we turned around and drove back home. Which was now the inevitable choice.
We had no more walked in the door at home when Cade rushed to the toilet.
Next!
Micah appears to be fine for now. I suspect the germ culprit was something the children picked up while swimming at our local YMCA yesterday. The common denominator between all the illnesses.
Since we've been home I've had to wash Piper's hair 3 times. Currently she's just playing in the bathtub. Mainly because she insisted and I didn't argue because I thought I might save some water in the long run.
I've also made PB&J for the children, which went mostly uneaten except for Micah whose appetite actually seems to increase with every bite he takes. I made myself a BLT, but held the L and the T and added some cheese. Because if anything is going to see me through this evening, copious amounts of fried pork can do the trick. Coupled with a strong drink. And probably lots of chocolate.
Hope everyone else has had a fab weekend! Now I've got to disinfect.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
A Pictorial Tribute to The Hair
Wednesday will be a monumental day here in the House of Sturg. Micah has lived to see 1st grade and Cade starts Kindergarten. Oh glorious day!
It will mark the end of the boys' Summer Justice League Training Camp, which is really just a ruse for the disobedience that is them climbing over, under and on top of the furniture for the sake of improving their super hero powers. My non-stop gentle reminders that "We DON'T CLIMB OR JUMP ON THE FURNITURE," may also cease. We'll all be much happier.
And let's be honest- the boys are no closer to meeting the admission requirements of the Justice League now than they were when summer began. But it's good for children to have realistic aspirations.
Cade is absolutely beside himself with delight over the start of school. He's been asking me daily since May if it's the day for him to begin school. And just this morning he informed me that "tomorrow will be the best day of [his] life!" Bless his heart. I just pray his teachers are ready. May my angels not cause their respective sweet-spirited teachers to lose their religion. At least not on the first day.
So our summer is officially drawing to a close today. Although it's not like the real season of summer is going anywhere soon. This IS Texas, where the only seasons we have are Warm and Hotter then Hell.
Last night J, the boys, and I had the opportunity to Meet the Teacher(s) at the school. On the way home from the school I asked Cade what he thought of his teacher.
"Well, she's beautiful is all I know," he said genuinely.
I think they'll get along just fine.
Unfortunately, just moments before the car ride home, as we were leaving the school, we ran into the Head of School. Innocently, she said to me (regarding Cade), "He's going to be getting a hair cut, right?
Uh, wha-, 'scuse me???
Cade has long-ish hair. Amazing, gorgeous, and TOTALLY AWESOME long-ish hair. It's part of him and his personality. And I'm very particular about cutting it because most people don't have the skills it takes to style it properly. He's received the "Lloyd Christmas" look one too many times for me to let just anyone take the scissors to his locks.
But now, Cade's hair and the previously-unbeknownst-to-me school regulations are at irreconcilable odds. If he's going to go to school at the institution to which we've already paid a boatload of money, his hair cannot touch his collar, can be no longer than the middle of his ears, and must be above his eyebrows.
When I heard this news, I rent my garment, shaved my head and fell to the ground. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, right?
I can't think about it. I can't even consider it. I'm not sure I can even call and make The Appointment, much less actually drive him there, put him in the seat and WATCH as his gorgeous hair is stripped away.
The date for the shearing is yet to be determined. For the first time, I'm actually quite grateful that our regular stylist is generally booked weeks in advance. But inevitably the day will come. And after that day, all I will have left of his hair will be in pictures.
Thus, the following tribute. To Cade. And his beautiful hair.
It will mark the end of the boys' Summer Justice League Training Camp, which is really just a ruse for the disobedience that is them climbing over, under and on top of the furniture for the sake of improving their super hero powers. My non-stop gentle reminders that "We DON'T CLIMB OR JUMP ON THE FURNITURE," may also cease. We'll all be much happier.
And let's be honest- the boys are no closer to meeting the admission requirements of the Justice League now than they were when summer began. But it's good for children to have realistic aspirations.
Cade is absolutely beside himself with delight over the start of school. He's been asking me daily since May if it's the day for him to begin school. And just this morning he informed me that "tomorrow will be the best day of [his] life!" Bless his heart. I just pray his teachers are ready. May my angels not cause their respective sweet-spirited teachers to lose their religion. At least not on the first day.
So our summer is officially drawing to a close today. Although it's not like the real season of summer is going anywhere soon. This IS Texas, where the only seasons we have are Warm and Hotter then Hell.
Last night J, the boys, and I had the opportunity to Meet the Teacher(s) at the school. On the way home from the school I asked Cade what he thought of his teacher.
"Well, she's beautiful is all I know," he said genuinely.
I think they'll get along just fine.
Unfortunately, just moments before the car ride home, as we were leaving the school, we ran into the Head of School. Innocently, she said to me (regarding Cade), "He's going to be getting a hair cut, right?
Uh, wha-, 'scuse me???
Cade has long-ish hair. Amazing, gorgeous, and TOTALLY AWESOME long-ish hair. It's part of him and his personality. And I'm very particular about cutting it because most people don't have the skills it takes to style it properly. He's received the "Lloyd Christmas" look one too many times for me to let just anyone take the scissors to his locks.
But now, Cade's hair and the previously-unbeknownst-to-me school regulations are at irreconcilable odds. If he's going to go to school at the institution to which we've already paid a boatload of money, his hair cannot touch his collar, can be no longer than the middle of his ears, and must be above his eyebrows.
When I heard this news, I rent my garment, shaved my head and fell to the ground. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, right?
I can't think about it. I can't even consider it. I'm not sure I can even call and make The Appointment, much less actually drive him there, put him in the seat and WATCH as his gorgeous hair is stripped away.
The date for the shearing is yet to be determined. For the first time, I'm actually quite grateful that our regular stylist is generally booked weeks in advance. But inevitably the day will come. And after that day, all I will have left of his hair will be in pictures.
Thus, the following tribute. To Cade. And his beautiful hair.
Please pause for a moment of silence.
Amen.
Monday, August 10, 2009
There is no chin behind Chuck Norris’ beard. There is only another fist.
My husband is a hero today. Not unlike Chuck Norris, except without the mad martial arts skills. And the TV show. And all the tough Norris jokes.
So pretty much the only similarity is the reddish beard.
J's latest Chuck-Norris-super-feat was busting a dude who was shoplifting magazines out of a local bookstore.
Let's all pretend that the offender was NOT wheelchair-bound, shall we? Yes, he was actually stacking magazines on the seat of his chair, sitting on them and then smuggling them out of the store.
You have to give the guy props for style.
And Jason didn't round-house kick the guy in the face either. J just chased him out of the store and managed to get his license plate number. Then he left the rest up to our fishing buddies, the local authorities.
In honor of J's heroism and bravery, I post the following video. One of my favorite SNL Digital Shorts of all time- it makes me so happy! Kind of like my own hero. Love you, baby!
So pretty much the only similarity is the reddish beard.
J's latest Chuck-Norris-super-feat was busting a dude who was shoplifting magazines out of a local bookstore.
Let's all pretend that the offender was NOT wheelchair-bound, shall we? Yes, he was actually stacking magazines on the seat of his chair, sitting on them and then smuggling them out of the store.
You have to give the guy props for style.
And Jason didn't round-house kick the guy in the face either. J just chased him out of the store and managed to get his license plate number. Then he left the rest up to our fishing buddies, the local authorities.
In honor of J's heroism and bravery, I post the following video. One of my favorite SNL Digital Shorts of all time- it makes me so happy! Kind of like my own hero. Love you, baby!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
On the lookout for smokies in plain brown wrappers
(Name that movie. Hint: It's obscure.)
When Jason and I moved last year, we didn't relocate with the notion that our new city would be crime-free. But we also did not imagine that we would have to call the local PD so frequently that we're starting to consider ourselves fishing/shopping buddies with Our City's Finest.
Late one evening a couple of weeks ago, J and I heard helicopters circling. At first I thought it was possibly CareFlight, but by concentrating on the sound pattern of the chopper(s), and the fact that we could hear them flying for several minutes, indicating that if it WAS INDEED CareFlight, the intended recipient of Care had quite possibly passed on, it didn't take up too long to realize they were circling our area. So I called the police station to get the scoop.
(Make no mistake. This was not the first, second, or third call I've made to Our City's Finest in the last 12 months.)
The phone screener informed me that we most certainly were not in an impromptu war zone. But there had been an "incident earlier" and if we needed to know anything further, an officer would come to our door. In other words I was on a need-to-know basis and apparently I didn't need to know.
When I hung up the phone I felt like I was on an SNL episode of "REALLY?!?! With Seth and Amy."
REALLY?!?! The incident was "earlier" and they were still flying helicopters? REALLY? An officer is going to come to my door? REALLY? Because wouldn't it be more efficient for them to be out, I don't know...chasing the bad guys?!?!
Not 30 minutes later we saw flashlights (yes, plural) shining in the back of our house. Wanting to avoid the helpful phone screener, I went straight for the big guns...911. This time they told me that they had reports of a suspicious vehicle in the area.
REALLY?!?! A suspicious vehicle? And they think it's in MY backyard?!? Whatever happened to just running the plates and finding out who the vehicle belongs to and running the plates? Wouldn't that be easier than scaring the mess out of me when I'm ALREADY A LITTLE ON EDGE FROM THE HELICOPTERS?
J and I pretty much didn't sleep that evening with what we imagined to be a maniacal murderer on the loose, possibly hiding in our bushes. When the next day dawned, we kept a lookout in all the media outlets to get more information on our local terrorist. But there was NADA. Not a single word.
So fast forward to Saturday. I woke up with the knowledge that the contents of our pantry was paltry. I had no milk, no bread, and no cereal.
Basically, that means that I had no fixings for breakfast.
My plan was to take the children to enjoy anutritious breakfast at McD's and then head to do some grocery shopping at The Store.
As I was loading them into their carseats through the passenger side door, I noticed the driver's side window looked oddly mottled in the corner of it. When I looked closer, I realized I was not looking at the window at all, but the SHATTERED REMAINS of the glass that once protected the insides of my vehicle from outside elements AND THIEVES.
Major fail.
Glass shards covered the driver's seat as well as the ground under the window. Exposed wires hung loosely where our stereo/DVD combo once existed.
Our Garmin GPS was also stolen, meaning that until we can afford to purchase a new one I may as well embrace the feeling of pretty much never knowing how to find my way out of a paper bag. My marriage may not survive.
I ushered the kiddos back inside where I fed them a hearty breakfast of chocolate chip cookies (graham crackers for Piper) and coke.
I wish I was kidding.
But I REALLY needed them to just be happy and BE QUIET so that I could regain some semblance of a normal thought process to figure out the next steps. I decided to call Jason, the police, and the insurance company, in that order.
When the friendly officer made it to the house, he took my statement and offered no platitudes that the thief might be apprehended and our things located and returned.
Because I can't stand missing out on a good story, I tried questioning him about the "incident" and the "vehicle" from previous week, but he told me he had no knowledge of the situation. Whether he was playing dumb or being completely truthful, I'll never know.
But I wisely let it drop.
I did make an off-hand comment that our neighborhood seems to be keeping them busy lately, and he casually responded that it's the entire town that's keeping them busy.
OH THAT'S JUST GREAT. I WILL SLEEP SO MUCH BETTER KNOWING THAT CRIME IS RUNNING RAMPANT AND IS COMPLETELY OUT OF CONTROL BECAUSE APPARENTLY THE POLICE CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT AND NOW I MAY NEVER SLEEP AGAIN.
(I know that sentence is awkward. Consider it stream of consciousness. It doesn't always make sense. Thanks.)
For the time being we've decided the best we can do is to be diligent about setting our security system each evening before bed.
By "security system" I mean that we're letting our previously-kenneled-at-night miniature dachsund roam free about the house whilst we sleep because she will surely bark and awaken us should any stranger make the mistake of even looking in our home's direction.
She also frequently barks at the cat who lives on our porch, so that may wake us, too, but we aren't really sleeping well anyway, so what's the difference?
She also barks at absolutely nothing, so I fully expect to be jolted out of a dead sleep into an immediate panic at least once per night for no reason, but have I mentioned I'M NOT SLEEPING?
Let me just say, burglar beware of our attack dog. Oh, and Jason's rifle. What can I say? It helps me sleep.
When Jason and I moved last year, we didn't relocate with the notion that our new city would be crime-free. But we also did not imagine that we would have to call the local PD so frequently that we're starting to consider ourselves fishing/shopping buddies with Our City's Finest.
Late one evening a couple of weeks ago, J and I heard helicopters circling. At first I thought it was possibly CareFlight, but by concentrating on the sound pattern of the chopper(s), and the fact that we could hear them flying for several minutes, indicating that if it WAS INDEED CareFlight, the intended recipient of Care had quite possibly passed on, it didn't take up too long to realize they were circling our area. So I called the police station to get the scoop.
(Make no mistake. This was not the first, second, or third call I've made to Our City's Finest in the last 12 months.)
The phone screener informed me that we most certainly were not in an impromptu war zone. But there had been an "incident earlier" and if we needed to know anything further, an officer would come to our door. In other words I was on a need-to-know basis and apparently I didn't need to know.
When I hung up the phone I felt like I was on an SNL episode of "REALLY?!?! With Seth and Amy."
REALLY?!?! The incident was "earlier" and they were still flying helicopters? REALLY? An officer is going to come to my door? REALLY? Because wouldn't it be more efficient for them to be out, I don't know...chasing the bad guys?!?!
Not 30 minutes later we saw flashlights (yes, plural) shining in the back of our house. Wanting to avoid the helpful phone screener, I went straight for the big guns...911. This time they told me that they had reports of a suspicious vehicle in the area.
REALLY?!?! A suspicious vehicle? And they think it's in MY backyard?!? Whatever happened to just running the plates and finding out who the vehicle belongs to and running the plates? Wouldn't that be easier than scaring the mess out of me when I'm ALREADY A LITTLE ON EDGE FROM THE HELICOPTERS?
J and I pretty much didn't sleep that evening with what we imagined to be a maniacal murderer on the loose, possibly hiding in our bushes. When the next day dawned, we kept a lookout in all the media outlets to get more information on our local terrorist. But there was NADA. Not a single word.
So fast forward to Saturday. I woke up with the knowledge that the contents of our pantry was paltry. I had no milk, no bread, and no cereal.
Basically, that means that I had no fixings for breakfast.
My plan was to take the children to enjoy a
As I was loading them into their carseats through the passenger side door, I noticed the driver's side window looked oddly mottled in the corner of it. When I looked closer, I realized I was not looking at the window at all, but the SHATTERED REMAINS of the glass that once protected the insides of my vehicle from outside elements AND THIEVES.
Major fail.
Glass shards covered the driver's seat as well as the ground under the window. Exposed wires hung loosely where our stereo/DVD combo once existed.
Our Garmin GPS was also stolen, meaning that until we can afford to purchase a new one I may as well embrace the feeling of pretty much never knowing how to find my way out of a paper bag. My marriage may not survive.
I ushered the kiddos back inside where I fed them a hearty breakfast of chocolate chip cookies (graham crackers for Piper) and coke.
I wish I was kidding.
But I REALLY needed them to just be happy and BE QUIET so that I could regain some semblance of a normal thought process to figure out the next steps. I decided to call Jason, the police, and the insurance company, in that order.
When the friendly officer made it to the house, he took my statement and offered no platitudes that the thief might be apprehended and our things located and returned.
Because I can't stand missing out on a good story, I tried questioning him about the "incident" and the "vehicle" from previous week, but he told me he had no knowledge of the situation. Whether he was playing dumb or being completely truthful, I'll never know.
But I wisely let it drop.
I did make an off-hand comment that our neighborhood seems to be keeping them busy lately, and he casually responded that it's the entire town that's keeping them busy.
OH THAT'S JUST GREAT. I WILL SLEEP SO MUCH BETTER KNOWING THAT CRIME IS RUNNING RAMPANT AND IS COMPLETELY OUT OF CONTROL BECAUSE APPARENTLY THE POLICE CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT AND NOW I MAY NEVER SLEEP AGAIN.
(I know that sentence is awkward. Consider it stream of consciousness. It doesn't always make sense. Thanks.)
For the time being we've decided the best we can do is to be diligent about setting our security system each evening before bed.
By "security system" I mean that we're letting our previously-kenneled-at-night miniature dachsund roam free about the house whilst we sleep because she will surely bark and awaken us should any stranger make the mistake of even looking in our home's direction.
She also frequently barks at the cat who lives on our porch, so that may wake us, too, but we aren't really sleeping well anyway, so what's the difference?
She also barks at absolutely nothing, so I fully expect to be jolted out of a dead sleep into an immediate panic at least once per night for no reason, but have I mentioned I'M NOT SLEEPING?
Let me just say, burglar beware of our attack dog. Oh, and Jason's rifle. What can I say? It helps me sleep.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
World Wide Web Wednesday 07.29.09
Still here, still not much time for blogging. I'm on the downhill side of my own summer, meaning that I will be returning to work in approximately 4 days, 18 hours, and 20-some-odd minutes (by the time I post this).
But whose counting?
Anyway, for WWWW, I just had to post a video. I know this video has already gone viral so everyone has already seen it, but I think these people would be so fun to have as friends. Judging solely on their dance skills and complete lack of inhibition, I can say they look like like they have a total blast!
Happy Wednesday!
But whose counting?
Anyway, for WWWW, I just had to post a video. I know this video has already gone viral so everyone has already seen it, but I think these people would be so fun to have as friends. Judging solely on their dance skills and complete lack of inhibition, I can say they look like like they have a total blast!
Happy Wednesday!
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
World Wide Web Wednesday 07.15.09
Jason and I are having an incredible time ministering to high school seniors at Super Summer this week. These students are being led in amazing times of worship and are falling deeper in love with Jesus this week.
In that same vein, I have a couple of links that will help you fall deeper in love with the Savior.
For the entire month of July, you can go here to download a copy of Francis Chan's book, Crazy Love. I've listened to about 3/4 of this book so far and let me tell you, it will rock your world! It's not necessarily profound or new, but it's an amazing reminder of the awesomeness God.
You can also go here to download a free copy of Phil Wickham's CD "Singalong." It's a live recording, but the lyrics are beautifully worshipful.
Enjoy!
In that same vein, I have a couple of links that will help you fall deeper in love with the Savior.
For the entire month of July, you can go here to download a copy of Francis Chan's book, Crazy Love. I've listened to about 3/4 of this book so far and let me tell you, it will rock your world! It's not necessarily profound or new, but it's an amazing reminder of the awesomeness God.
You can also go here to download a free copy of Phil Wickham's CD "Singalong." It's a live recording, but the lyrics are beautifully worshipful.
Enjoy!
Monday, June 29, 2009
Seven
*I'm horribly tardy in completing/posting this. Obviously, since Micah's birthday was 6/28 and it's now over a week later. Blame it on life, blame it on the heat, blame it on my straight up lack of motivation to do much of anything lately. It doesn't really matter. I just want to honor my precious eldest, so better late than never, right?
My oldest baby turned 7 recently. SEVEN!!! As in, he's been alive for 70% of a decade! It's surreal, that's what it is. I can still remember the day of his birth so clearly.
The names of all the visitors who came to see us on his big day...
The names of the nurses who aided in his delivery...
The way he weighed a teensy 6 lbs. 8 oz...
The way Jason passed out cold when I got my epidural...
(I'll let that one sink in a minute. It was special. And it was a lesson LEARNED.)
I keep threatening to put bricks on Micah's head to keep him from getting any bigger. I might try it if I thought there was the slightest chance it would work.
Unfortunately, we were so busy with family birthday bidness yesterday (I actually started working on this post 6/29) that I didn't get to post and tell everyone how amazingly exceptional this guy is. So I'm going to do it now. Because he is truly amazing.
Micah is one of the smartest children I know. And I don't say that because he's mine. I say it because I know a lot of children.
His brain is always thinking, and even though he can be a little random at times (I wonder where he gets that quality? I need to clean out the fridge. So where was I?) he asks questions and comes up with ideas that are far beyond his years.
Like the idea that, when he grows up, he's going to open a restaurant for people who aren't hungry and don't want to eat. That way they have a place to go and hang out and they don't have to pay anything.
Because who wants to just stay home?
Folks, that strain of brilliance can only be explained by good genetics.
His heart is tender towards the things of God and it's the most amazing thing to see Jesus working in his life. Our prayer is that the Lord will continue the great work that He has begun in him throughout Micah's 8th year and into eternity.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go bawl my eyes out over how much he's grown while you enjoy a mini-shrine to his precious life.
And he's only going to cost "one million dollars (evil laughing)."
Always playing when he's supposed to be sleeping.
Becoming a big brother the 2nd time around
The last day of kindergarten with Saint Morris, I mean Mrs. Morris.
My oldest baby turned 7 recently. SEVEN!!! As in, he's been alive for 70% of a decade! It's surreal, that's what it is. I can still remember the day of his birth so clearly.
The names of all the visitors who came to see us on his big day...
The names of the nurses who aided in his delivery...
The way he weighed a teensy 6 lbs. 8 oz...
The way Jason passed out cold when I got my epidural...
(I'll let that one sink in a minute. It was special. And it was a lesson LEARNED.)
I keep threatening to put bricks on Micah's head to keep him from getting any bigger. I might try it if I thought there was the slightest chance it would work.
Unfortunately, we were so busy with family birthday bidness yesterday (I actually started working on this post 6/29) that I didn't get to post and tell everyone how amazingly exceptional this guy is. So I'm going to do it now. Because he is truly amazing.
Micah is one of the smartest children I know. And I don't say that because he's mine. I say it because I know a lot of children.
His brain is always thinking, and even though he can be a little random at times (I wonder where he gets that quality? I need to clean out the fridge. So where was I?) he asks questions and comes up with ideas that are far beyond his years.
Like the idea that, when he grows up, he's going to open a restaurant for people who aren't hungry and don't want to eat. That way they have a place to go and hang out and they don't have to pay anything.
Because who wants to just stay home?
Folks, that strain of brilliance can only be explained by good genetics.
His heart is tender towards the things of God and it's the most amazing thing to see Jesus working in his life. Our prayer is that the Lord will continue the great work that He has begun in him throughout Micah's 8th year and into eternity.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go bawl my eyes out over how much he's grown while you enjoy a mini-shrine to his precious life.
And he's only going to cost "one million dollars (evil laughing)."
Always playing when he's supposed to be sleeping.
Becoming a big brother the 2nd time around
The last day of kindergarten with Saint Morris, I mean Mrs. Morris.(Seriously, if anyone reading this knows how I can nominate someone for sainthood, please contact me because if anyone deserves canonization, it's this lady. Or maybe all kindergarten teachers could be the first canonized group of saints known for their miracles of teaching small children with unwavering patience and gentleness in the face of untied shoes, bodily fluids, and endless random questioning.)
I love you, Micah!
I love you, Micah!
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