Shiny, Happy People!

Thought you might care to know that - thanks to lots of good sleeping last night - I'm in a much better mood today. So Jennifer the Grouch is gone now. Yay! I don't like it when she comes over to play.

I was e-mailing with Lydia about hope and praying for God's guidance in our desires, so I thought I would add this verse about it:

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
"The LORD is my portion," says my soul,
"therefore I will hope in him."
- Lamentations 3:21-24 (ESV)

So, if what I'm hoping for isn't meant to be, I'll always have Him!



Some random thoughts:

I'm also happy because I get my baby back tomorrow night! Yippee!

And on a side note... Julie, I sincerely apologize for putting your name wrong on my blog links! I changed it today. I don't know what I was a thinkin'!

Anyway, have a great day everybody!

Meet a New Sesame Street Character: Jennifer the Grouch!

Okay, folks. Holiday weekends are nice. They really are. But they really bite when you come back to work to find that a certain engineer with whom you clash to begin with decided to do a lot of overtime over the weekend, and dumped a whole lot of projects on YOUR DESK to be done IMMEDIATELY (his instructions) when you get in. Then you have the fact that the boss man decided to switch out two office computers, expecting you to rehook them to the network and do all those nice little things that makes the new computer have all the old computer's files on it, ready to go and work just as the previous computer did. Except, gee, I'm sorry David. But I'm not trained on that aspect of computers. No where, anywhere did my job description say anything about networking, importing/exporting files, etc. etc. So I can't help you with this one!

Add to that the fact that Jamie spent the night at Papaw's last night, which meant I couldn't sleep. I remember falling asleep somewhere around 3:48. Then I had to get up at 7. Lack of sleep doesn't make my brain work any better here, people! And then to have all that stuff that needed to be done immediately on my desk, well, let's just say I had to put myself in time-out lest I explode. I like my job, I really do, but sometimes I feel like I'm being taken advantage of. Then other times, I feel like my job is way too easy. Guess I should make up my mind, huh?

Maybe I should look for a new job. I know! Maybe I could be the new character on Sesame Street. I'd be Jennifer the Grouch or something like that! I could be Oscar's love interest - but then he'd decide that I was trying to take Slimy the Snake away from him, and he'd get all jealous and we'd argue, then I'd leave the show. Seriously, though. I am looking into other jobs and places to work. It's still in the future (after I get at least my bachelor's), but I figure I need to start exploring other cities now. I've said it before, and I'll say it again - I want out of San Antonio!

Anywhoo, I just had to vent before I exploded. I'm supposed to be working on a report right now, but I just had to blow off some steam before my heart galloped out of my chest. So thanks for letting me vent! I know it's just lack of sleep that's making me so cranky. I mean, really, I should be really stoked! New car, going out with my friend R- tomorrow night to see X-3 (I'm not using her name because I keep forgetting to ask her if I can use her name on here, or if she'd be more comfortable with just the initial). We're both childless tomorrow night, and figured it would be a good opportunity to have a girl's night out.

It's a Girl!!!

Okay, finally picked up the new car today. I'm absolutely stoked about my new car. At first, I didn't know if it was a boy or a girl, but then when I was playing with the back seat to figure out all the ways you can configure it, I found a cool rearview mirror ornament. It was a picture of a vampish, blue fairy. This told me "Duh, it's a girl!" So, the car is officially Druscilla now. I'll blog more about her Wednesday. Right now, I'm at Dad's and have to spend time with Jamie. He's spending the week with Papaw, so I need to squeeze in some quality time before I go back tomorrow night. That's why I'll be mainly absent from Bloggerdom.

Hope all the traveling Meadors (sounds like a circus act, doesn't it?) had safe, fun trips. I WANT TO READ ALL ABOUT THEM ON BLOGGER WHEN I GET BACK!!!!!

Much love to all.

Silence

And in the naked light I saw/
Ten thousand people, maybe more.

People talking without speaking/
People hearing without listening/
People writing songs that voices never share/
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence.

"Fools" said I, "You do not know -
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
In the wells of silence
- Sound of Silence, Simon & Garkfunkel

These lines come from one of my all-time favorite songs ever. I get goosebumps every single time I hear it. In fact, the first time I heard it I was laying in bed at my dad's house. We were visiting him for the summer. I think I was about 11 or 12. I had tuned the little clock/radio to an oldies station to help me go to sleep. This song came on, and even though I was almost asleep, my eyes flew open and I literally fell out of bed. I was trying to get out of the bed to turn up the radio and got tangled up in the waterbed sheets. Then I fell out of bed. But I still got to the radio and turned it up so I could hear it better. I've been in love with Simon & Garfunkel's music ever since.

Anyway, I was listening to this song at work today, and these stanzas really struck me. They made me think of Jesus, and faith. It seems our society wants us to talk about everything. We have talk radio, television talk shows, we have cell phones so we can talk to each other more, VoIP phone plans so we can talk cheaper. But what are we talking about? It can't be faith! Oh, no! That's soooo passe. Talk to much about religion and faith, and those around you start looking for the nice men with white jackets to come take you away. We're doing all this talking, but we aren't talking about the important things. We aren't talking about Jesus. We aren't talking about what our families, friends, neighbors and even enemies need. They need prayer. But all we talk about is ourselves. We're so programmed to talk about ourselves, that we don't seem to know how to listen to someone else. And we're so programmed to talk only about certain subjects, that we're afraid to break the silence covering the important things.

If I don't talk to my neighbor about my faith, then he gets the impression that he can't talk to me or his other neighbors about faith. And so it does spread, because we're afraid to seem weird to everyone else. I'm not saying we should go out and attack anyone who has a different faith from our own. I'm not saying we should run up to someone and order them to convert to your beliefs. But I am saying the silence is spreading - it will keep spreading until the ones to suffer the most are our children's children.

See, I'm still working on that book I'd been talking about from my bible study class. I didn't get to go to bible study tonight because I was helping a new friend. She's my friend K-'s daughter, and she's in almost exactly the same shoes I was in a few years ago (except she still has her mom). She's a single mom struggling desperately in a dead-end job for which she is way too smart! But what she wants is to go back to school. However, she wasn't aware of all the financial aid opportunities there are, so she assumed college was out of reach. This is what single-motherhood does to you - it makes you feel very small, with a very large load on your shoulders alone. The load becomes so large you cannot see around it, unless someone comes along and says "Sweetie, can I help you with that for a minute and show you a few things?" I really think it was meant for me to talk to her, because R-'s life sounds SOOO much like mine used to be. So I went and helped her file her FAFSA and online application for school and such. She wants to go to a 2-year program, so the deadlines aren't until August.

Anway, I digress. As I was saying - our children's children will suffer for our silence. If they don't hear about faith, the Word and Jesus, how will our children know to trust Him? If they are afraid to speak about that huge hole in their hearts without Jesus, how will they try to fill it? The author of the book we're studying, "This isn't the life I signed up for" has an interesting take on life and happiness. She says she knows her life isn't going to be wonderful and perfect. But she wants to keep spreading the Word and doing God's will so that her children's children's children will have more blessed lives. That's a long-reaching vision that can be hard for an instant-gratification society. I'll be the first to admit that I want what I want NOW. But, I'm studying how to be patient and to keep speaking AND listening.

I still don't know why it seemed God was sending me here to Texas. I may never know - He may never see fit to tell me. Just like I have no idea what else he has in store for me. It's like another book we've talked about in Sunday school (I keep meaning to get it, but haven't found it yet.) It's called "Why He's God and You're Not". Seems pretty simplistic, but we all forget sometimes that we're not God. We cannot control everything in the universe. While I wrestle with this truth, I'll keep my heart, soul and ears open. And if my mouth is open, I'll try to make sure my voice is sharing my songs of faith. Words do no good written on a page and locked in the dark. I don't know about you, but I'd much rather be in The Light!

New Addition to Our Family

I just found out today that we can expect a new addition to our family. He should arrive sometime within the next week....

We cannot wait to greet our newest family member. I haven't picked a name for him yet. In fact, "he" may be a "she" - it all depends on how it drives.

Heeeeeeerrrrre's Jenny!

Sorry I've been neglecting my blog. I had previously mentioned to the Clan (not the Ku Klux) that my Internet was messing up last night, so I couldn't blog. Today was one crazy day, so I couldn't blog today, either.

At the end of the month, not only do I have to do the normal payroll type reports, but I also have to do end-of-month reports, billing, mileage reports, etc. etc. So I'm pretty darn busy the last week of the month. On top of that, the server died today. The only eulogy it got was the four-letter type. Seems we had a power outage and it fried the external zip drive on the computer. Considering I don't have a degree in IT (as much as my boss insists on me doing the IT stuff) I didn't realize that the server's lack of response could be caused by an external drive. So after me trying over and over again to reboot the darn thing in its various modes (safe mode, safe mode with networking, safe mode with command prompts, normal mode) didn't work, we called in the IT guy we use when I can't figure out what's wrong (which hasn't been so often, actually, since I started working there! HA! Maybe I'm a Hacker for a reason. LOL) Anywhoo, the boss was then mad because the guy gets like $70/hour!

Anyway, it seems we had a power surge last night which fried the zip drive. The zip drive was connected to the hard drive, hard drive connected to the server, the server's connected to the network - them drives them drives them crazy drives. Oh, wait, sorry. I broke out in song, didn't I? Anyway, it was a simple problem that only required removing the USB connection from the zip drive to the server then rebooting the server. Too bad we had to wait until after 1 p.m. for the guy to show up, and since I couldn't access any of the info I needed to do the invoicing or the reports and my boss and I weren't sure what was wrong with the server - I had to recreate all the information by going through the hard copies of all the files we were invoicing. Then I had to use Excel to recreate an exact replica of the invoices we normally generate through our timekeeping system. I invoiced 20 projects this morning! By the time Jonathan showed up, I had a headache and an empty belly. See, I didn't get to go to lunch today because I had to wait for the IT guy. Then I had to get busy logging in all the jobs that came in today but I couldn't log because the system was down. Then I had to input all the data that I had used Excel to create so the timekeeping system would match our actual invoices. Can we say "ACK!???" Then to find out all I had to do was disconnect a cable?!!!!

So, can you see why I didn't have time to do more than just post a few comments today?

I should get an award for "dedication to her job". Otherwise, I would have walked out today. But I'm not stressing too much over the missed lunch - I get to take a double lunch later this week. I'll probably do it on Friday. Then I get a four-day weekend for the holiday. I think I need it.

A Boy and His Dog

I haven't posted in a couple of days due to a combination of lack of news and a nasty headache. But as I sit here at the computer, I look over at my son(s) and know what to write about. See, I tell everyone down here that I have two sons - a two-legged son and a four-legged son. Most people just get a smile that says "Oh, not another one of those!" But I'm not just one of those kooks who treats her dog like a baby or whatever. Those two seriously act like brothers!

Right now, Jamie is sitting on the couch with his favorite "blankie" watching TV. Where's the dog? Sitting half-way in Jamie's lap. If Jamie lays down on the couch (on his side), Ziggy will crawl behind him and lay down with his head resting on Jamie's neck so he can watch TV, too. But it isn't always sunshine and roses with those two.

Jamie will be playing in the floor and Ziggy will come bounding up to him and start "attacking" Jamie with licks and play bites on his ears. Or he'll run up and steal one of Jamie's toys and take off with it. But Jamie isn't innocent in these games, either. If Ziggy is minding his own business playing with one of his own toys, Jamie will run over and steal it and throw it down the hall. Then Ziggy will take off after it, only to bring it back for Jamie to throw again.

They "fight" with each other for my attention, too. If Ziggy is laying in my lap and I tell Jamie to take him outside, I have to hook the dog up to his leash - otherwise, Ziggy will growl at Jamie. If Jamie is cuddling with me and Ziggy comes up to us, Jamie will try to push him away (of course I fuss at both of them when they pull these tricks).

So I guess the point of this rambling post is something that I've talked about before. We're born with certain types of families, then God brings others into our lives that we turn into our families of the heart. I've been very blessed in that most members of my birth-family are/were wonderful, quirky people. But I've also been very blessed in the people (and pets) that have become part of my family of the heart. You are all in my prayers.

Oh, and I'm stealing a verse of the day that I have been told many times, because it's true:

A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy
dwelling.
God sets the lonely in families, he leads forth the prisoners
with singing;
but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land.
Psalm 68:4-6 (NIV)

MORE PICTURES! But these are all of Jamie!

Yes, these pictures are all old, but I just found them in a box last night. The first one is one of my favorites, because Mom is in it. Jamie was "her baby", through and through. In this picture, he was sick with a really high fever, so we stripped him down so he could cool off. But he wanted cuddlin' and no-one could satisfy him but Grandmama!

The second one was when he was about C.J.s age. He had gotten sticky sucker spit all over his cute outfit, so the babysitter had to strip him down. That's his best buddy Noah with him (yes, they are still best-est buddies).

The third one was obviously Halloween. He and his little girl-friend both dressed up as types of kitties for Halloween (sorry I don't remember her name. She moved shortly after this picture was taken). He was trying to steal some sugars from her, but she wasn't having any of it! So I call this picture "Kitty Kisses".

And the last one is another of my absolute favorites. He's still pretty young in this one - like a little over two. The photographer was great, because she just let him plop down and do what he naturally wanted to do instead of trying to pose him. So Jamie untied his shoe and took it off - then held it up to show me (with a very "Dennis the Menace" grin on his face). He had just recently figured out how to do this. There's another picture (which I haven't found yet) that she took when he was trying to put the shoe back on - too bad he's trying to put it on the foot still encased in a shoe! He has such a serious look of concentration on his face, too. As soon as I find it, I'll post it!

Love to you all!

Dr's Visit and New Voice in Blogger-dom

Okay, okay! Sorry I've been too busy today to blog much. I had to leave work about an hour early to go to a doctor's appointment, so I had to really buckle down to task today (well, for the most part) to get everything done before I had to leave.

So, anyway, I went to go see Jamie's psychologist today. I accidently misspoke in my blogger rant (which only Suze and Beck saw because I deleted it the next day) and said it was with his psychiatrist. But, no - it was with his psychologist. The whole point in the appointment was for it to be just me and the doc and we would talk about how to address Jammie without blame, and in a matter-of-fact tone, when he makes incorrect choices. It's all about making Jamie realize that he is the only one who can choose what choices he's going to make. And by making those choices, he is also actively choosing the consequences of those actions - whether they be good or bad. We'll try it and see how it goes.

And I am pleased to announce that Sarah, an awesome gal I met through my singles Sunday School class and Ladies' Bible Study, has entered the world of blogger-dom! I've been telling her for a while now that she needs to check out my blog and all your all's too because of how much you all have helped me as I'm learning more about God and my faith, and how we talk a lot about the Bible, and what it means. So what day does she decide to check out all the blogs? The day we're all talking and giggling about farts... Yep, we're a delicate bunch! LOL. Sarah, I hope you went back and checked out all the times we talked about faith, too (and if you've got any fart stories, fess up! We like those, too!)

Anyway, Sarah also started her own blog, and I just got an e-mail reply from her giving me the go ahead to link to her blog on here. You can check out Sarah's blog here. So, if you see any comments from Sarah, tell her "Hi" and make her feel welcome. She's a neat, sweet, funny gal (just like us! Oh, wait, except for Everett and Geron, and Joel when he pops up to comment). So maybe I should say we're all neat, sweet, funny people. Oh wait, but that excludes Ziggy and Gjieri and Beck's cats Zeeky and what's-her-face (I'm wanting to say Nutmeg, but I can't remember for sure). So, we're all neat, sweet, funny critters! That works! Pshew! Being PC is hard work!

Anyway, I'm sitting here noshing on dinner - it's the first thing I've cooked that wasn't pizza rolls in four nights. Jamie wanted them again, but I wanted to hurl (and fart) at the idea of another pizza roll. So tonight I made chicken breast fingers, spinach and mashed sweet potatoes with honey. Yummy! We loves our veggies, yes we do!

So there, I posted. Now stop nagging! LOL. I deserve it though (and yep, I'm still going to nag you all when you don't post).

Persistence

Last night, I was really frustrated with Jamie. We had been having pretty much the same argument for days - I wanted him to act like a human being, and he wanted to disobey every rule in the house and get a bad attitude when I called him out on it. So, my apartment has been a war zone for several days. See, when I posted on my blog before that he was a sensitive, sweet, empathetic person, I should have added "to everyone except his mother."

I have also been dealing with my father's usual shenanigans - belittling me, questioning my parenting skills (as if he even knows what those are!), hanging up on me, etc. So between dealing with my kid, dealing with my dad, and the various and sundry worries that haunt a single mom, I was at my wit's end. So I blogged. I blogged a very long, rambling tirade about how fed up I was with everything, how I couldn't handle it, how I felt like I was being punished, etc. etc. I also blogged about how I've been praying, but it doesn't seem to be helping.

Then I remembered what Everett said about persistence in prayer, and what all I've read about God's timing. So, while I was walking the dog for the last time last night, I prayed again. "Lord," I said. "Please help me deal with all this." And that's pretty much what I kept repeating. Then I made sure to thank him for the all the blessings I have in my life (because I don't want to be one of those whine-y people who only see the glass as half-empty). Then I went to bed.

Well, I got up this morning and said my prayer of thankfulness again, and asked again for help in dealing with all that's on my plate. Then I decided to take a few minutes to check my blog and read over what I had written. Suze had been up early and read my blog and sent me some encouraging words and sympathy. Then I read over what I wrote, and realized how irrational and insane I sounded. So I e-mailed Suze to thank her, then deleted the blog post I had written last night.

Then, I said another little prayer before I went to wake up Jamie. He has been pretty much a grizzly from the time he wakes up until he goes to bed. Today, he woke up my sweet, loving little boy again. Thank you, Jesus. Then, my dad called to make sure I got up on time, and to tell me he loved me. No snide remarks, no hanging up on me, just "I love you." Thank you, Jesus, again!

Then I went to work. I've been working on a big report - hence the decrease in blogging. I decided to check to see what all had been processed in my quest to attend TWU this fall. Hallelujah! I've been granted enough financial aid, not only for my tuition and text books, but with a nice chunk left over to put a big dent in some big bills. Thank you, Jesus, again again!

So, my persistence paid off. Not only will I keep applying that persistence in my prayers and Bible reading, but I'm definitely going to apply that persistence in some other areas, too!

In Response to Ann's Post on "Value"

This is in response to Ann's blog posting on "value". Click here to read Ann's original post.

I, too, have been guilty of bragging that Jamie is "so smart." I also usually like to do it in his hearing. Unfortunately, he doesn't believe me. His school bases who is intelligent on what kind of grades a student gets. Well, he has ADHD, so his grades have pretty much been crap (and I really mean that other four-letter word that means the same thing, but is not mentioned in polite company). But he is one of the most inquisitive kids I know, and thinks so far "outside the box" that he's thinking in a rhombus or whatever.

He is also one of the kindest, most sensitive people I know. If you hurt, he hurts, and won't stop hurting until he can "make it all better" for you. I have never heard him say or been told he had said anything negative about people who look, act or are physically different from him. But he is the first one to get his feelings hurt when someone else points out something about him that is different. If he notices someone on the playground who has no one to play with, he'll go ask if they want to play with him (his teacher told me this). Unfortunately, often he is the only one left playing alone. It seems the other kids don't like him because he talks "too grown up."

Yet despite the fact that he has a vocabulary to rival that of most fifth-graders, has repeatedly demonstrated his awareness of others' feelings, constantly volunteers to help with clean-up duties and other chores at school and daycare, he is not considered "intelligent" at school. The administration barely wants to consider him "perceptive."

I used to think like so many others. I was considered (and still proudly think of myself as) very intelligent in high school and even in college. Sure, I'm considered a bit of a freak, but I've learned to accept that. But, after watching Jamie struggle, I know that intelligence is more than the grades you get. It's the ability to perceive the world and people around you. It's the ability to empathize and sympathize with others. It's even common sense (of which I have very little).

I'm realizing the only reason why I got good grades was because I had an older sister and brother who read to me constantly and played school with me. I only got good grades because I've learned how to take tests well. Jamie doesn't. I can be very sympathetic to people, and other times I'm so self-absorbed and self-centered that I wish I could bop myself over the head with something when I realize it later.

Some very very very intelligent people fail every test they take. Some extremely intelligent people can't do normal, everyday things. Like my brother recently commented, "Albert Einstein could barely tie his shoes."

So, thank you, Ann, for reminding me of something I've slowly been coming to learn over this past year. I'll still tell Jamie at every opportunity I get that he's very smart. But I'll also remember to tell him how kind he is, how sweet, how loving and how thoughtful.

My Decorating Style is "Shabby" Without the "Chic"

I have a very old (well, antique) dresser which has been handed down in my family. Well, not handed down too far, but still, it has been handed down. Mom and Dad bought it for my sister, Jodi, when she was an infant. After Jodi died, it became mine. Then, when Jamie was born - it was still mine. But now that I have a bigger dresser, it's his.

When the dresser was originally bought, it was a beautiful natural oak. Dad, in his drunken wisdom, decided to paint it white. Without putting any protective coating on the wood first (so all the paint soaked way down deep in the wood). So it pretty much has to be painted from now on. Jamie's room is supposed to be decorated in mostly black and tan, with a travel theme (which has really turned more into a sea-faring theme). So, I decided to paint the dresser a nice, glossy black to match the bookcase in his room.

I borrowed a palm electric sander from my friend Karen from church. I had to sand off a lot of the old paint in order to roughen the surface for the new paint to stick (at least, that's what I was told to do, so I did it). Well, my house was pretty messy anyway - think of what the house in "Overboard" looked like when Goldie Hawn first moved in, and that's about 20% better than my house looks now! So, I fired up the sander and used it right in the middle of my living room. That was Friday night.

Saturday, we went down to Dad's to spend the night and then visit with him some today for Father's Day. So I didn't get to work on my messy house or my funky dresser. But I did do some major scrubbing on Dad's house. Eeeewwwww! Totally gross looking everywhere. Dad's house stays "straight" so far as nothing lying around on the floor, but it's dirtier than mine. The toilet was, I kid you not, black from all the gunk growing in the bowl. I won't even mention what kind of crusties I had to scrub off the outside of it! Then I tackled his shower. It was so disgusting I was gagging while I cleaned it. My house may be messy, but it is never this dirty! But enough about Dad's grossness - I just ate and the memory of it makes me want to hurl.

So, anyway, we come home today, and it was so hot I cranked the A/C down to about 68, turned a fan full-blast on my bed, and laid down for a while. Then, I got up and decided it was time to finish that dresser and get it out of the middle of my living room. So I tacked up a plastic drop cloth on the back porch (which made the birds nesting out there REALLY angry), and dragged the dresser out there. Then I started spray painting it. Then I went in the house to let it dry before I applied the second coat. I didn't realize it, but I had black paint all over the bottom of my socks. So now my living room also matches Jamie's room, as my beige carpet has black tracks across it.

Any suggestions on how to remove black paint without removing the color of the carpet, too?

A Message from Stinkbumps, Himself!

I miss you.I hope you are ok.Thank you Ann for leting me be in your weting.




love,
Jamie

P.S. Jamie got tired of typing, so he asked me to tell Ms. Susan thank you for the cool new study Bible, and thank you to Mr. David for the Jenga and card game. He also wanted me to tell Everett thanks for talking with him, and also Geron, too. And he says thank you to Lydia, and says she's going to be a "pretty Mommy". So, see, even Jamie says you were a model, Lydia! And Jamie says if we come to Nashville to visit, he wants to challenge Daniel to some soccer. Love and hugs from me and Jamie!

Hair

There's something about the climate here that induces Texans to have big hair. I first started noticing this phenomenon while at church the other day. There are a LOT of people at my church with really big, takes-three-cans-of-Aqua-Net-to-hold-it-in-place hair. And it isn't just the women; there are plenty of men walking around looking like they have some sort of foreign creature perched on their heads!

So I wondered - is big hair their defense against the sun? Is this some sort of example of evolution at work in humans? Because I've noticed that the higher the temperature, the bigger the hair. What sort of protection does this offer? Does extending the hair as straight as possible out from the scalp prevent any sort of body-heat build up there which could cause discomfort? It's possible, as I remember my mom always telling me that people lose most of their body heat in winter from an uncovered head.

Or is the bouffant an attempt to create as much shade as possible for the rest of the body? It doesn't rain here very much, so a lot of the trees here are short and squat. Maybe Texans feel the trees aren't tall enough to provide them enough shade, so they must create their own mobile shade units.

Or perhaps they, like Chicken Little, really do believe the sky is falling. Perhaps the humongous hairstyles are to provide padding in the event a big ol' chunk of sky should fall to the earth and strike an unsuspecting Texan.

You would think, though, that they would reason - the less hair, the less heat. But NO! Down here, hair is a symbol of one's femininity, one's womanness. I cut my hair really short once I got back from Ann's wedding, because it was so darn hot. One of our technicians at work, Pablo, walked in and acted like someone had just shot him when he saw how short I cut my hair. "What?" I asked, a bit defensively. He merely pointed to my head. "Yes, I cut my hair." He just shook his head sadly. Seems he's now half-way convinced I must be, well, I'm sure you can guess. I'm just not a woman anymore in his eyes. LOL

Meanwhile, while I'm as comfortable as I can possibly make myself in this blistering Hell called San Antonio, I find myself confronted everyday, everywhere, with the image of what natives around here think of as "womanhood." Apparently, it looks a lot like Marge Simpson.

This is NOT Mr. Roger's Neighborhood

I knew where I lived wasn't the most glamorous of locales in San Antonio, but I didn't realize just how BAD my neighborhood was until last night when I was walking the dog.

Within a 10-minute time frame, I saw a transvestite, a "beast with two backs" (if you know your Shakespeare, you know exactly to what I refer), three prostitutes, and a four-kid crew stripping the wheels off a Beemer at the gas station next door. Then there's all the half-wild cats roaming around, making the whole apartment complex smell like a litter box badly in need of changing! I felt like I was in the middle of a Wierd Al Yankovic-esque version of "The 12 Days of Christmas". Hmmm, how would that go? Maybe something along the lines of:

While walking the doggy, what did my two eyes see? A transvestite dressed to party!
Walking faster with the doggy, what next appeared to me? Public nudity and a transvestite dressed to party!
I'm jogging with Ziggy and now what can it be? Three call-girls, public nudity and a transvestite dressed to party!
Now I'm dragging the doggy when suddenly I see: four gang-bangers, three call-girls, public nudity and a transvestite dressed to party!
I'm locking up the doors - but what's all that screaming? Five feral cats, four gang-bangers, three call-girls, public nudity and a transvestite dressed to party!

So, anyway, it's obvious that the minute my lease is up, I'm out of there. I don't want to buy a house, though, because the minute my dad "leaves this realm" if you know what I mean, I'm out of San Antonio. The economy is nice, but it just isn't worth it - for one thing it's too darn hot and dry. For another thing, it's too dirty. And lastly, I don't really have too many friends here. The only thing holding me here is the fact that my dad needs me (and the fact that Jamie inherits everything). I know, it's mercenary to say, and horrible to think about, but it's the truth. Warts and all, here I am. So, once Dad is beyond my help, Jamie and I will be moving. Hopefully by then I'll have my degree (maybe even my masters, too) and we'll leave Texas all together. Where we go from there just depends on where my career (or heart) will take me.

Okay - I Feel Old!

I used to laugh at people who, once they got home from work, had to be practically dragged out of their homes until they had to go back to work the next morning. I used to think of them as little old men and women, sitting in front of the television, cooking and puttering about in their homes. Now I'm one of them. By the time I get home from work, I'm too pooped out to do anything, unless it's to go swimming at the pool here at my apartment. But we don't even get to that much as the pool keeps getting closed. It seems other residents don't want to follow the pool rules, so management locks the pool gates closed.

Jamie is being babysat by the sons of a friend of mine from church. Despite the fact that they're 16, they insist on calling me "ma'am" and "Ms. Hacker." I can feel my hair turning blue and my cute, sassy 4" heels turning into Hush Puppies every time they open their mouths. If they talk to me for more than three minutes, I can feel my spine curving into an arthritic hunch and my hands curling into claws.

In 4 months and 10 days, I'll be 30. I know, in my mind, that 30 is not anywhere close to being old. But there are old stereotypes that like to stick in your brain, and crawl out your ears and whisper to you in the middle of the night when you're lying awake thinking about the fact that you're fast approaching 30: "spinster" is the first word that immediately comes to mind. Then there's the quaint term "all dried up." There's also the old saying that you're more likely to get struck by lightning than you are to get married over the age of 30. Then there's the fact that I would have thought I would have been married and had another child by the time I was the "big 3-0". I, who used to swear I would never have children, not only have Jamie, but long for more. That's why we got Ziggy when we did - because puppies are cheaper (and a whole lot less trouble to get! LOL) than babies!

But things haven't worked out that way. I keep telling myself that God does things in his own time, but every patience test God has given me, I've failed. I keep trying, and keep praying for patience (and some other thing(s), too), but at what point are you supposed to throw in the towel and say "Okay, obviously God doesn't mean for me to have/be such-and-such", or are you supposed to keep on praying? Someone with some theological chops, answer me please.

In the mean time, I keep repeating to myself Psalm 40:1, Habbakuk 2:3, Romans 8:25 - and a newly discovered personal fave, Lamentations 3:25 "The LORD is wonderfully good to those who wait for him and seek him" (NLT). And I also keep thinking about a paraphrase from Song of Solomon, about the heart unready to be wakened. Maybe I'm having to wait because all isn't ready yet. Maybe some other things have to happen first before I can truly appreciate what I find, and before what I seek can be freely given. Maybe it's like Ann's cooking - not only do you have to have the salt and the curry, but you have to add them together at the right time, otherwise it just won't taste right. So please pray for me to have patience, and not to despair while I 'm waiting for God's plan for me to be revealed.

06/13/06 Addendum to post:
I was going to post this as a comment, but it got too long. So I'll just add it as an addendum instead.

Thanks for the words of encouragement. Like I said on Ann's blog, the main thing that has me freaked out is something I read in the Old Testament about "don't defile yourself with an unclean/unpure woman." Well, according to the OT, I fit the definition because I had Jamie out of wedlock.

I know God has forgiven me, but would a Christian man, in his heart-of-hearts, ever be able to look at me as a potential partner? Would he ever be able to look at me and see the woman I've become instead of the mistakes I've made? Would he see that I have so much love to give I'm about bursting with it? Would he see that if this is the person God has chosen me to be with, I would do everything in my power to make him happy and to help him? Would he see Jamie as a child so eager to be a man's son that he, too, cries for it at night? Or would he just see a reminder that I'm human and made some bad decisions? Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade my boy for anything in the world. He literally is the best "mistake" I ever made, I cannot imagine my life without him. I love Jamie so much it's scary! That's part of (but not the whole) reason why I feel so much pressure right now about finding the person God has in mind for me.

When Jamie was little, he used to ask me why he didn't have a daddy like his other friends. This question feels like a dagger in the heart, let me tell you! I told him that any man can be a father, it's simply a matter of nature. But, I said, it takes a very very special man to be a daddy. "And you're such a special, wonderful little boy, that I have to find a special, wonderful man to be your daddy." When he was little, this answer satisfied him. But now, it isn't enough. For Christmas last year, he told me the only present he wanted was a daddy. And I had to tell him I hadn't found him one yet. So, he told me "Hurry up, Mommy. I'm growing up fast!" And at night, when he says his prayers and he thinks I'm not listening, he prays that his mommy finds him a daddy really soon. And my heart breaks just hearing it, because I know that I'm not enough for him. We both feel the absence greatly.

So the question remains: Can a Christian man ever look at me and see who I am? Can he see Jamie as the wonderful, intelligent, precocious little boy that he is? Would he even want to try get to know the real me? Would he want to get to know Jamie? Yes, I know there are many many many Christians who are now part of loving marriages & partnerships who did not come to the marriage bed "pure." But most of those didn't have a living, breathing reminder in the house of those past relationships. And even if some Christian man did see me for who I am, would his family be able to accept me? Or am I forever relegated to the status of "just a friend"?

I know, God has someone out there he has chosen for me; but it's very hard for me to wait. As I said, patience is something I pray for on a daily basis! And we all know (the Bible is full of examples) that we don't always listen when God tells us to do something - and we also don't listen when God tells us NOT to do something. But seeing as how a relationship takes two to tango, I guess I'll just have to wait (and pray, and pray, and pray!)

Jesus Really IS My Co-Pilot!

I took Jesus for a spin through downtown San Antonio today. Or rather, he took me for one. I didn't intend for it to happen that way, but happen it did.

Jamie goes to a child psychiatrist to treat his ADHD. His original monthly appointment was cancelled and for whatever reason, they didn't contact me about it until we showed up for it. So they rescheduled us for another clinic site (they have three) with one of his psychiatrist's colleagues, as his normal doc was on vacation. Well, this clinic was in downtown San Antonio, in a not very nice area. Even in broad daylight, I was a little frightened of where we were!

So, anyway, on the way back to the interstate, we almost got killed. Literally. I had never driven in downtown San Antonio before, there were no road signs, traffic was very heavy and the sun was shining right in my eyes. Not a good combination. So I turned left to try to get back to where I could get on I-35 to get the heck out of there. But I didn't realize it was a divided street, and I accidently turned left into oncoming traffic. And the road was divided with a concrete barrier, so I had to just pray pray pray while I kept going to try to get to where I could get back going the right way. I was sooooo scared because there were cars everywhere.

So I prayed, and it was like all of a sudden I felt calm. And even though there were all these cars, I was able to go past them without even coming close to them, and then turn left again so I was going the proper way on another street. And then I was totally lost, scared and in another creepy part of town by this point. The way San Antonio is set up, you can't see the interstate until you are literally right up on it. So, here I was lost, no idea which direction to go and almost out of gas. But a little voice kept telling me "turn left here, go straight, turn right here. Keep going! You're doing okay! There, on your left, there's the on-ramp to the interstate." And, I honestly believe He kept Jamie occupied with his books so he wouldn't look up and get scared over what all was happening. Jamie never even looked up the whole time. So, as I said, Jesus and I took a little spin today.

We've only been downtown one time before that, when my ex-boyfriend came down to visit when we first moved to Texas. He drove a rental and took us. But the next time we want to stroll the Riverwalk, see the Alamo, or anything like that, we'll take public transpo!

Embarrassing Pictures!

I have a feeling these will get me killed, but I found some pictures last night when I was unpacking a box. Pictures from our "glory days" of high school - my senior year, Suze and Ann's junior year. So, of course I just HAD to post these on Blogger! So here goes (she says as she ducks, covers and makes a run for it!) And just so you don't hurt me too badly, I included a very embarrassing picture of me and my bubby, too!

If anyone pictured here absolutely hates having their picture up, let me know and I'll take it down. Love you all!

Chili's and Bitterness

One:
Okay, I sound like an old Chili's commercial today, because I'm walking around singing -

"I get my baby back, baby back baby back..... I get my baby back, baby back, baby back!"

I'm going to pick up Jamie today! Yay! I've missed the little booger! I talked to Dad on the phone last night, and apparently Jamie has been working on Papaw's heart. He asked if Jamie could stay the whole summer! I said, "But I miss him so much!" Then I told Dad that I needed Jamie back for a couple of weeks, but that he'd be back again this summer. So Jamie's medication seems to have had several good effects: 1) it's improved his concentration and grades in school, and 2) it has improved his relationship with Papaw, too. But what has helped most of all is God! I've prayed everyday that God watch over Jamie and Papaw and allow them to be forgiving of each other's quirks!

Two:
I went to church Wednesday night, and the message was one I definitely needed to hear. The message was about "The Root of Bitterness" from Hebrews 12:14-15:

"Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy; withoutholiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one misses thegraceof God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defilemany"(NIV)

He also mentioned several other verses that talk about bitterness or anger but I won't go into detail on those in the interest of time (and me getting a decent amount of rest tonight!) But the point of all this was, that if we don't rid ourselves of our hurt feelings, it can turn into bitterness. Then this bitterness, if allowed to live in our hearts, will turn to anger. It is a "sin of the heart" he said, because it can put up interference between you and God. You can be the most rational person, calm and cool, but if you have bitterness in your heart, there's no telling when (or how) it will manifest itself one day. And this bitterness keeps you from hearing and serving the Lord. This bitterness also interferes in our relationships with others - our friendships, our ability to build lifelong partnerships, it even interferes with our ability to love ourselves enough to be able to love others. That's what truly shocked me!

I had never thought of this before. I am working to turn my life over to Christ, yet I still have a lot of bitterness and insecurities. By not dealing with them, I'm setting myself up for failure. So now I know to pray that I find the strength to let go of these insecurities and bitterness!

Remorse

She drifts alone through the house
touching the remnants of boyhood strewn about
wishing his noise was there as well.

For as many times as she had yelled "hush"
and longed just once for the touch
of a father to still

Her boy, twice as many times she now
yearned to hear the joyous, rambunctious row
that was her child.

Even laundry flung to the farthest corners of his room,
long forgotten or ignored once packing had begun
brought her a smile.

Inhaling the scent of her darling, dirty boy,
picking up and holding his favorite stuffed toy
these things are done

By a mother in the midst of despair.
She sheds her tears and wonders "Is it fair
for my son?"

She fears she loves him too much and relies
on his love in turn to fill the places that once cried
"Who am I?"

She wanted a role, something to strive to be;
and gave all her heart to being only "Mommy".
So she tried

And buried it all inside. So her 'self' is lost
and all that is left is love at all costs.
So her 'self' died

Not realizing there would be a time the boy would leave
and live a life of his own. And then she would need
her self again.

Lest she drift through the house alone
wondering why her young son had grown
and left her alone with the pain.

Ruminations Whilst I Await my Laundry

Gee, I should post in the middle of the night more often! Before midnight hit, I was able to do a post for Sunday; I worked on it so long that time crept past midnight, and I got to go ahead and post something for Monday! Yay! Two birds, one stone.... However, I will say that the Monday post is full of randomness. Sunday's post is much more of a revelation kind of thing when I was reading my bible. So, if you want silliness, read this post. If you want to know about my faith walk, read Sunday's post below. If you want to know about both, then read both (Duh!)... But, now back to the ruminations thing.

Numero Uno: I got an e-mail awhile back from my brother, Joel, which contained a link to a website containing pictures he took in and around New York City. My favorite ones are the first and last groups. They are gorgeous! The first set is from Central Park; the second is more specifically of the North Woods in Central Park. As Phil and Lil from Rugrats would say "They're 'prettiful'"! So please check out my talented brother's link under the links section to the left of this blog. His link is aptly titled "Beautiful Pictures by Joel Hacker".

Numero Dos: My poor dog, Ziggy, has evidently had an allergic reaction to a new type of dog treat I bought him. He has scratched himself so much he has left raw, bleeding spots all over his body. I had to shave off all his fur except for what is on his ears, face and tail (although what hair is left was trimmed down to about one-fourth of an inch)! I shaved him so I could actually get to all the spots where he has chewed and scratched himself to pieces. It was worse than I thought. So then I went to the store and got some children's benadryl and same lanacaine spray. He hates them both, but he is no longer ripping gouges in his own skin scratching. But my poor four-legged son is naked, pink, raw and ugly.

Numero Tres: Speaking of funny haircuts, Jamie's papaw took him to get a haircut last week. The barber asked, "Do you want a boy's haircut?" Dad thought, "Well, Duh!" so he told the barber to go ahead. Seems like the barber is from a generation even further back than Dad's and thought this meant he wanted his head practically shaved! Jamie now has hair so short he has to put sunblock on his scalp before he can go outside to play!!!

And to top that off, I decided yesterday that, since everyone else had gotten a haircut, it was my turn. I have been cutting my own hair for almost a year now, and think I do a pretty good job. Well, I was in a hurry as this was just before my friend Karen's daughter's wedding (we're talking less than an hour before we needed to leave the house). I thought I did a great job, it looked really cute and was exactly the way I wanted it. Or so I thought. When I took Jamie back down to Dad's today, he asked me "What happened to your hair?" So of course I asked what he meant. "The back is all uneven and looks like the stylist wasn't watching what she was doing. What, was she talking to somebody?" I went and used two mirrors to see, and sure enough, it's all over the place! That's what I get for being in a rush and not taking the trouble to check it out when I'm done!

Numero Quatro: And yes, you read it right. Jamie is back at Papaw's this week. Ziggy and I both are very unhappy about it. But my summer babysitter is at church camp this week and Jamie and Papaw are enjoying each other (for now). However, I have an emergency back-up on standby should things get too hairy (pardon the pun) down there before the week is out!

My Own Verses o' the Day (or Night)

I was randomly reading my Bible, and came upon a couple of verses I found interesting, and very appropriate, about patience. Those of you who know me also know that I am not the most patient person. I would have called these my Verses o' the Day, but seeing as how it's almost 11:30 p.m., I guess they will have to be my Verses o' the Night:

"If it seems slow, wait patiently, for it will surely take place. It will not be delayed."
Hab. 2:3 (NLT)

"If we look forward to something we don't have yet, we must wait patiently and confidently."
Rom. 8:25 (NLT)

Something else I was reading that completely blew me away. This happened late last night, so I didn't really get to blog about it, but it has stayed with me. Ann had said something to me before about liking to read the General Electric Power Company chapters. Thankfully, she told me that's Galatians, Ephesians, Phillipians, Colossians; because there for a minute I was really confused!

Anyway, I started reading and was completely bowled over when Paul said in Galatians 1:15-16 that God chose to call Paul in God's own time, and at that time he revealed Jesus in Paul. Not to Paul, in him. Jesus was there the whole time! He's in all of us the whole time! Then when he says in 2:20 that "... it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me" (NKJV).

I had never fully realized how my stubborness had truly worked against me all this time. It never occurred to me that Jesus had been there with me my whole life, but I refused to see or hear him for all those years. I used to think it was a good thing that I was so stubborn. I used to relate with pride that my first full sentence was "Me do it meself!" Now I don't think I should be quite so proud. Yes, perseverance is a good thing. But out and out stubborness is not. So this led me to consult my Touchpoints for Women to see what it says about obedience:

"If you will obey me and keep my covenant, you will be my own special treasure from among all the nations of the earth, for all the earth belongs to me." Exodus 19:5 (NLT)

Hmmmmmmmmmmm, I thought. Wonder what it says about submission?...

"When people do not accept divine guidance, they run wild. But whoever obeys the law is happy." Proverbs 29:18 (NLT)

Okay, point taken. I need to pray for more patience, less stubborness, and to be a little more submissive. That's a tall order, but He can handle it!

I Thought Tackling was Only Legal in Sports..........

My friend Karen's daughter got married today; Jamie and I went as Karen had asked (actually, begged) us to help out at the reception. Momma Karen was feeling the strain! So we went and the ceremony was sweet. The reception was a different story.

I was doing my thing, serving punch to the guests, when the dreaded announcement came: "Would all the single ladies please move to the center of the room? It's time for the throwing of the bride's bouquet." I ignored the announcement and kept serving punch. Karen materialized out of nowhere and said, "Go on, Jenn! You're single, get out there." Then she pushed me a little. Ha ha, okay Karen, big grin, (ick) so I went.

I look around, and I'm the only one over the age of 20. I felt suddenly like I should have a walker and sensible shoes. Then I realize - Ha, in my heels, I'm the tallest with the longest arm reach. Maybe I'll get something pretty to take home. Yay! So the bouquet is thrown, and it's coming right at me. I reach up and am just about to snag it, when this little 5-foot-nothing, 95 pound twerp turns around, does a flying leap and tackles me! We both go crashing to the floor.

Seeing as how I wasn't that desperate for the darn thing anyway, I let go. I might have fought harder for it, but San Antonio does have a professional roller-derby team, and I wasn't sure, but Thumbelina looked like she wasn't above scratching out my eyes and pulling my hair. She then got up and waved it around to show everyone. There for a minute I thought she was going to run for the end zone and do a little dance. But at least in that she showed restraint.

So, the moral of the story is, if you're a single woman and are planning to vie for the bridal bouquet, you should either wear a helmet and padding or spend some time training with the roller-derby first!

Various and Sundry

Various:

There once was a girl with a blog
Who liked to croak out like a frog
"You didn't post here,
You need to post, dear"
And left her own site in a fog!

I just thought I would say something about that before somebody else pounced on me for it. See, I can write bad verse about myself, too! I'm sorry I've neglected my blog today. I'm down at my dad's house spending the night so Jamie and I can head back to San Antonio early in the morning to get ready for my friend's daughter's wedding. We're on punch bowl patrol (hey, that rhymes too! Please, stop the madness!) But yay! I've got Jamie back! Boo hoo, he's staying with Papaw again from Sunday through next Friday. I miss the little bugger when he's gone.

Sundry:
One thing I find interesting. When I was growing up, I was adamant that my job would have as little to do with computers as possible. I didn't want to be anything like my dad (he's a retired mainframe programmer), so wanted absolutely nothing to do with anything even close to what he did.

So, I grow up, and before I know it, I'm in charge of the computers at work, troubleshooting, rerouting the network, setting up the archive programs, etc. etc. And I do a lot of stuff for my dad, too (he never learned very much about PCs). So, I've grown up to be a computer geek. Guess the last name is appropriate after all.

Well, sorry this is so short; but I wanted to give you something to chew on tonight, in the morning and some of the afternoon. (Just in case you missed reading one of my silly posts).

I'm off to bed now, to read some verses, read some Touchpoints, pray (possibly aloud), and get some sleep.

Sweet dreams everyone!

My Favorite Psalm

I was reading my Bible last night, and came across Psalm 25. I'd
never read it before, but it really spoke to me. I felt as if it had been
written with me in mind. All of it is extremely appropriate for me, but I
especially like the following verses...

Remember not the sins of my youth
and my rebellious ways;
according to your love remember me,
for you are good, O LORD

Psalm 25:7

My eyes are ever on the LORD,
for only he will release my feet from the snare.
Turn to me and be gracious to me,
for I am lonely and afflicted.
The troubles of my heart have multiplied;
free me from my anguish.
Look upon my affliction and my distress
and take away all my sins.

Psalm 25:15-18

I really like those verses because I always felt inferior to those I considered to be "good" people, because of the "bad" things I had done in my life. But it was very comforting that not only does God forget about our past behavior once we accept Jesus as our savior, but that it is through Him that these sins are removed. It's like Ann told me in a previous post, when I keep praying about and asking forgiveness for old behaviors that have already been forgiven, God pretty much says "Bless your little heart! Are you still going on about that? I'd completely forgotten about it. Can we talk about what I'm doing in your life now?"

It's very hard for me to let go of those past burdens, though. I feel like I'm forever going to have to prove, not only to others, but to myself as well that I'm not the messed up girl I was even a year ago. I'm learning and doing so many things, and I'm really committed to my life being through Christ now, and not just blundering along with my own plans. But the old Jennifer still whispers that I'm not good enough, that I'm nothing but a cheap floozy who can never do anything but lay on her back; that's when I get discouraged. That's when I feel like maybe I have a stain on me that the "Godlies" can see, and that's why I'm only approached by men who are after only one thing. Then I realize, this is evil talking, trying to lure me back to my old mistakes. So then I get out my "Touchpoints for Women" and my Bible, and I start reading. And then I start praying, just like I did last night.

Before, I would always pray silently in my head. I felt a little silly talking out loud when God can hear me no matter how I say a prayer. But last night, I was really begging for answers, and beseeching Him that He take care of His children, and I started to pray out loud. I have never "felt" my prayer like I did when I prayed out loud. Before, if I prayed in my head, I would lose track of what I was saying, I felt silly, and I would rush through it before I started reciting my grocery list accidently. But last night, I could actually SEE my prayer. It's so hard to explain. It's like I was able to look in a window on a world I had never seen before. This window opened up in my mind and I could actually see what and for whom I prayed. I felt like I couldn't pray enough. And when I finally finished, I had been praying out loud for 30 minutes and had tears running down my face. I didn't even know that I had been crying. It was a very moving experience for me!

When I was finished and getting ready for bed, I knew one thing for sure: I won't recognize who God has chosen for me until I stop feeling inferior to other people. It's not that I have a stain on me, so to speak, it's that my inferiority complex is broadcast to others. I'm trying very hard not to feel like I'm less than anyone else. Hopefully, soon, when I'm ready and whomever God has chosen for me is ready, we'll recognize each other.

"'I know the plans I have for you,' says the LORD.
'They are plans for good and not for disaster,
to give you a future and a hope'"

Jeremiah 29:11

I don't know what my future holds. I only know I'm praying that others, too, can forget my past and get to know who I am now. I'm praying for someone who can love me and Jamie, I'm praying for more children. But I don't know yet if that's God's will. I guess I shall see.

Office Goddess

Okay, some of you may have noticed in my profile that I have listed "Office Goddess" as my occupation. The reason why I did that was because there wasn't room to write "secretary/bookkeeper/receptionist/technology coordinator/lab technician/digital photo specialist/research assistant/shipping coordinator/appointment setter/filing clerk/custodian" in the little box provided by blogspot.

So what exactly does that all mean in the grand scheme of things at work? I work for a metallurgical engineering firm in San Antonio, about three or four blocks from Jamie's school. The firm conducts failure analyses and chemical composition testing for the military, aerospace corporations, automotive industry, petrochemical corporations, television news investigative reports, law firms, and your average joe who wants to know why something that was supposed to work didn't (or if something is really made out of what it's supposed to be made of). I support three engineers - but that's all of the firm, pretty much. I'm one of SIX employees, and two of them are part-timers working their way through college!

It is my job to: log in and generate job numbers for new projects, type the engineers' handwritten reports, format and create any photoillustrations for said report, answer the phones, log expenses and properly invoice our clients, prepare bills to be paid, make contact with clients when payments are past due, greet clients as they come through the door, prepare samples for shipment and testing (if going to an outside lab), prepare reports from chemical analysis results of outside labs, keep all files in order, research metals specifications as needed, keep the office clean (yes, sweeping, mopping, dusting, etc), keep track of all engineers' schedules, trouble-shoot technology issues as they arise (whether I'm qualified to or not!), track all shipments to ensure on-time delivery, run errands, keep supplies well-stocked (drinks, consumables, chemicals, etc.), keep track of all routine paperwork and ensure is filed in a timely manner, and generally to know everything that is happening in the office at all times. So, as you can tell, I have just a few responsibilities at work. Oh, and I've also started a project at work where I'm converting their paper, handwritten job index to an Access database. So, as you can see, I don't really do much! LOL.

But I'm not complaining. I'm grateful to have a job, and to work with such nice people (okay, so one of them isn't nice, but he isn't directly my boss, so I can deal with him). I'm also grateful that I have benefits and am so close to Jamie's school! It's funny how all the seemingly unrelated jobs I've held over the years all directly tie in to what I'm doing now, though. I've been a radio station receptionist, a babysitter, a reporter/photographer for a newspaper, a photoillustrator and copywriter for a realtor, an automotive industry buyer, a warehouse stocker, an automotive industry line worker, an accounts receivable clerk, a construction industry secretary and a Mom. God knew I would need those skills to be equipped to handle this job!I have thanked God many times for the opportunities he has created for me! (I especially have to use my babysitting and "mommy" skills when I deal with one person there! LOL - just kidding... maybe)

The Dog Isn't the Only Spoiled One in the House...

Nor is the boy. Seems like every person, er... creature, in my house is spoiled in one way or another. I'm the baby of the family, so of course I've been spoiled A LOT. Add to that being the baby and being the only surviving girl, plus the only one to provide progeny...well, you get my drift.

So why was it any surprise to get a phone call last night from my son, who is staying at his Papaw's house for the week? "Mommy! Guess what!" Jamie practically shreiked into the phone. "Papaw has a motorcycle and he let ME ride it!"

Excuse me? Did I just hear that a 72 year-old man was joyriding with an 8 year-old boy? Surely I must have misheard.

Well, I didn't. But the good news is that it was NOT really a motorcycle. It seems my dear and darlin' father shelled out for one of those Jesse James/West Coast Chopper edition bicycles all tricked out in chrome. I was informed that "it's Papaw's, but he said I could ride it whenever I want to!" I don't blame Dad for that one, as I live in what could be considered only slightly above the projects - not in how the place looks, but in the attitudes of all the wanna-be-thugs who live here. The "motorcycle" will be much safer in Papaw's garage.

As for the dog, well, he's currently sitting at my feet begging for a bite of my cereal bar. See, originally I posted this last night, and it got kind of whiny. So, this morning (May 31) I got up and deleted a big chunk of my post. I think all of you will be glad I did it, for had you read it, you would have realized that it was pretty redolent of some of my previous posts. Well, if I'm going to change my attitude, I might as well start with my blog.

Have a great day everyone. And remember, being a LITTLE spoiled isn't always a bad thing!

Childhood Story

To give you an idea of how my childhood and my thought processes at the time were much different from those of my peers, I'll share with you a story of which I was reminded after reading Suze's blog post for today.

Before I was born, my brother Jerry David was still-born. The day before he was born, my mother noticed that he stopped kicking and she had a sharp pain in her belly. After Mom adamantly insisted the doctor deliver the baby, they discovered the umbilical cord had become tightly wrapped around his neck, crushing his windpipe and ceasing blood flow to his brain. In my family, we have always been very open about both the good and the bad, so from a young age I knew my brother Jerry was in Heaven. Then, when I was five or six years old, my sister was diagnosed with Leukemia. Again, my parents were very open about the fact that Jodi might die, as treatment options were few and bone-marrow transplants were still experimental.

I was already writing short stories and poetry by this time, so I wrote this story for my mother to comfort her (I've updated and edited it a bit, of course. It was much more rudimentary in its original form. What do you expect for an elementary-schooler?) :

Jerry was scared. He used to be in a warm, comforting place. There was a lovely voice that would sing to him, and little hands he could sometimes feel patting outside the room where he lay. But now it was cold, and quiet, and he felt all alone. Jerry began to cry.

Suddenly a kind voice said "Why do you cry, my son?"

"I'm scared and alone," Jerry replied. "I used to be somewhere nice, but now I don't know where I am."

"It's okay," the voice replied. "You weren't quite ready yet to be born, so I brought you here. Soon you'll be somewhere safe until you're ready for the world."

The baby asked, "Will there be people there?"

"Not quite," the voice replied. "Just others like you, who weren't quite strong enough to be in the world yet."

"But I'll miss the singing, and the cuddling," Jerry said. "I won't get to feel the little hands of my sister, or the big hands of my mother and father anymore. I won't get to hear my mother's heartbeat."

"I see," said the voice. "You'll miss the love, won't you?"

The voice said nothing for a time, and Jerry thought he had been left alone again. Slowly he began to realize his surroundings were changing. Where once there was nothing, now shapes were beginning to emerge. He could feel that he was lying on something soft, and when he looked at himself, he could see he was now covered in a downy fur.

Suddenly, he was lifted from behind up into the air, and was squeezed around his belly.

"What is that?" Jerry cried.

"It's called a hug," the voice replied. "You wanted to experience love while you waited for your time to come to Earth. I've placed you, and all the other souls like you, in the best places you could possibly be to experience unconditional love."

Then Jerry heard a little voice which he had heard long ago in his mother's womb. He was turned around, and there he beheld for the first time the face of his big sister.

"Come on, Teddy," the girl said. "Mommy says it's time for us to take a nap."

So it was that God placed the souls of the babies lost too soon into the stuffed animals of the children of the world, that they could experience love while they waited for their time to come to earth.

BTW - Hate to go all adult on you after that bit of fluff, but of course I have to state "Neither the above story nor any portion therein may be reproduced without the express written permission of the author - i.e., ME".

It's Official: I'm Pathetic

Okay, it's official. I'm pathetic. I have no life whatsoever outside of my role as Jamie's mom. He left today to spend a few days with Papaw.... Now I'm bored, and lonely, and have no idea what to do with myself for the next couple of days. If the dog had gone with them, I'd really be sunk!

I used to have all sorts of neat activities to do. Of course, the arrival of J left no time for those activities. I used to write poetry and short stories (but, as I've mentioned before, all that died pretty much when I got preggers), I used to act and sing (even did it for a while after Jamie was born, but then I was just too darn tired to do it anymore), I used to go to movies and plays.... But now, Jamie leaves and I have no idea what to do. So, what did I wind up doing today (after I got finished crying, of course)? I took a nap. Now I'm trying to make myself go take a shower and get busy unpacking boxes. But I, instead, have been blogging and watching a CSI marathon on cable.

So, basically, my life is pretty pathetic. How pathetic will it be when Jamie leaves for college? I'm going to be one of those neurotic "empty-nest-syndrome" people. I'm only 29, yet I'm already acting like one of those stereotypical moms who feel like their whole world is over when the kids leave (even though mine is only gone for a few days)! I need a life. Now I see why I haven't had a real, honest-to-goodness RELATIONSHIP since before Jamie was born. I can't think, talk about or do anything that isn't all about him. But maybe that's all I'm supposed to be doing right now (even though I'm lonely as heck and seem to forget what it feels like for someone to consider me interesting, attractive, and a WOMAN, not just "Mommy.") But then again, maybe that isn't all I'm supposed to be doing, but I've just been too afraid of having yet another bad relationship to go out on a limb and try to reach out to anyone. Maybe I should just stop second-guessing everything and go straight to Him and ask Him to show me what He wants me to do in my life right now. I think I'll go do that and stop rambling now.

Mi Perro Loco (My Crazy Dog)

I haven't talked much about my dog, Zig Zag Scalawag (a.k.a Ziggy). He's an AKC registered Bichon Frise, but when people ask me what kind of dog I have, I usually reply "a spoiled one". When Ziggy hears water running in the bath tub, he goes charging in and tries to get in it. However, if you actually start to wash him, he doesn't like it and will jump out of the bathtub. But the minute you stop trying to put shampoo on him, he'll jump in again.

His favorite thing to do is jump in the bathtub when Jamie is in there taking a bath. He'll then try to take the wash cloth away from Jamie (see picture). He's very sneaky about getting in there, too. I'll turn one way to try to grab him and get him out of the bathroom, and he'll duck around me behind my back and jump in the water anyway.

He also loves to sleep in the bed with his people. He'll snuggle down under the covers, lay on his back, and hook his paws up over the edge of the blanket! If you try to move him, he'll get up, scooch over and lay down with his butt in your face as punishment!

One thing that annoys me down here though is the fact that no one seems to know what kind of dog he is. I keep looking for one of those doggy shirts that says "I am NOT a poodle!" I haven't found one yet, though. Maybe I'll send my friend Suze some money and ask her to knit him one. I'm not very talented when it comes to sewing or knitting. In fact, my Granny once tried to teach me, but gave up when I managed to tangle up a whole skein of yarn within about 10 seconds.

Have to go put Jamie in the bathtub now, and lock the dog out so I don't have to give him a bath, too!

BTW - the little picture is of Ziggy when we first got him. He's bigger now. I'll post some new pictures once I finally get my film developed. I've only been carrying some of it around for a year now!

The Prodigal Daughter Will Return

In the past few posts, I've digressed from the original purpose of this blog - our adjustment to San Antonio (which is, as I've stated before, the cultural capital of a foreign country). The differences between my old life and my new one were particularly obvious after my trip home for my wonderful friend Ann's wedding.

We had already been wearing shorts and tank tops for about a month - the temperatures were fluctuating between the 90s and 100s. As we were driving north for our visit, it became progressively colder. When we arrived in Fayette County, the skies opened up with a deluge of hail and rain. By the time we arrived at my other good friend Kendra's house (where we were staying) we were both freezing and wet. You see, the sunroof of my car leaks; however, this isn't usually a problem in San Antonio as it hardly ever rains. So it was pretty miserable being inside my car and still having a steady stream of water running down the back of my neck. But at least it kept me awake until we got to Kendra's house!

In our part of Texas, the land is pretty much flat, with only the occassional rise. When we got in Kentucky, it almost felt as though the world were pressing in on us (especially driving up the BG Parkway with all its high hills and valleys!)

But still, it was wonderful to be home. Kentucky is still home to me. I cried when we had to leave, as I didn't want to come back here. I'm getting ready to go back to school to take another stab at my degree, then grad school. Once I have that done, I'm pretty confident I'll be back up there. That's where my heart is. So, hopefully I'll be seeing you all in about 3-4 years!

Picture Pages!

My superstar athlete.... Stinkbumps the Wonder Boy!

(5/26/06 - It just occurred to me that I better state original photos © Image in Motion; photo effects by Jenn Hacker. The original photo on the bottom had some other kids in it chasing Jamie. I took them out and brushed the background. The top photo is unchanged from the original. That stated, now I can't get nailed for copyright infringement or whatever [I hope])

Ch' Ch' Ch' Changes (a la David Bowie)

After reading my last post, my "adopted" Momma sent me this cartoon (please see above. I had to take it out of this post and put it in one of its own, as it kept floating around over the title of this post, driving me nuts - not that it would take me too long to get there!) The cartoon is very appropriate for me, as I often carry around my burdens. It would be much easier for me if I could learn how to lay them "at the foot of the cross" so to speak.

And for those of you whom have recently started reading my blog, and haven't seen me for a while, you're probably wondering "who in the world is writing this? The Jennifer I remember was mad at the world, didn't have a religious bone in her body and wouldn't be caught dead quoting scripture!"

That's true, the Jennifer you USED to know wouldn't. My family has been in and out of church all my life. There were sporadic fluctuations of faith, but there was a lot of anger and blame hurled at God and the church. I've fought tooth and nail against the inevitable my whole life. Struggling to be independent of God's will my whole life did nothing but make me very tired, angry, confused, and most of all, alone. Don't get me wrong, I'm still struggling. I don't have the Bible memorized, I often catch myself backsliding into old ways and I still have to force myself to not be so darned obstinate and independent. I have tons of questions about Christianity, and I don't necessarily swallow everything I hear from supposed religious leaders. But I'm working on a better life, a more peaceful life, for me and my son. I've started weeding out old past influences, those who were taking me down the wrong paths in life. There are even some past influences, former "friends" who have already stopped talking to me because of the changes God has wrought in me. That's fine. I can accept that, because if you can't accept me for the way I am now, I don't need that sort of negative influence in my life.

But overall, I'm still the same Jennifer - I still want to know all there is to know about everything that can be learned; I still have a wierd, off-kilter sense of humor; I still can be pretty morbid at times; I still love my families (both biological and "heart") fiercely; I still read voraciously; and I still love the arts. I'm still me, but I'm trying to be a better "me", hopefully one with more peace and a lot less anger.

Quoting the Quote Quoted by Everett

WARNING: Deep thoughts (or at least the possibily of some deep poo) contained herein.

In his last post, Everett quoted the following verse:

"The highway of the upright turns aside from evil
Whoever guards his way preserves his life" Prov. 16:17 (ESV)

This lead me to wonder - how does one guard against the evil that lurks, unseen, in others until after they have already insinuated themselves into one's life? And how does one guard against the evil that lurks inside his/her own nature? Furthermore, how does one know if one is not the catalyst for evil in another's life? The person may not be evil in and of him/herself, but could that person bring about the entree of evil into another person's life?

It is no secret that I have a fairly (okay, very) negative view about myself and some of the choices I have made in my life. I've done some pretty stupid things and am still paying the price of some of them. Yes, Jamie is a consequence of some of my stupidity. While I do consider him a burden in some ways, he is a joyful burden. My life would be so much easier had I not made the choices which led to his being and my decision to raise him on my own; however, my life would also be much emptier and would not have any meaning whatsoever. In fact, I've often said that without Jamie, I probably would have killed myself a long time ago. (I'm not saying that to be melodramatic or whatever, I'm merely stating a fact.) Therefore, while the introduction of his biological father into my life and the type of relationship we had was essentially evil, great good came of it. Can then the reverse be true? Could I unintentionally bring evil to a good person?

This begs a further question: Do I have the right to even put myself on the same level as said good, Godly person? (By Godly, I mean one who has a true relationship with God, and doesn't just quote the Bible, but tries to live it). My friend Kendra and I were having a conversation while I was in Kentucky. I asked if I had the right to desire the same kind of life as a person who has not messed up in life as badly as I have. She responded that once were beg God's forgiveness, that we are then white as snow. We have no past, we only have our present and future. That old person is gone and is replaced by God's child, who should seek Him and walk in His footsteps. My head understands this, but my heart still feels I don't have the right to His forgiveness. I feel inferior; I'm rhinestones, while those who haven't stumbled so close to the edge are diamonds. I seek relationships with Godly people who will help guide me on His path, not off into the brambles and briars where I used to tread. But I can't help but wonder if I am worthy of their attentions. Could I, instead of learning from them, unintentionally be a bad influence? And when/if I ever get into a relationship, do I have the right to pursue a Godly man?

I'm still learning about Christ. I want a deeper relationship with Him, I want to walk the path God set out for me before I was born. I feel there is so much more to me, and this life, than what I have previously experienced. But I wonder if I really deserve it.

I'm a Blogger, You're a Blogger, He's a Blogger, She's a Blogger.....

I had never even heard of a blog before Ann told me about Lydia and Geron's baby blog. Now I not only visit their site just about daily, but I have a blog, and seem to be adding to my list of must-visit blogs daily! So, check these out and enjoy!

www.thebrownbabyblog.blogspot.com

www.vrettsblog.blogspot.com

www.madtownmama.blogspot.com

Now we need to get Ann and Daniel, and Susan and David to start their own blogs!

A Dissertation on Thankfulness

I had an epiphany the other night when I was preparing for my Bible study class. We are studying a book called "I Didn't Sign Up for This Life... But I'm Finding Hope and Healing Along the Way." It's all about how no one signed up for the life we have. We aren't given a choice in what kind of families we have, what the major traumatic events of our lives are, etc. But we ARE given a choice on how to react to those changes, and what kind of relationship we want to have with God.

I have a tendency to be a bit negative (no...really? I never would have noticed!) It hit me really hard when I was reading a chapter on perception. The author was discussing families who lost loved ones, and how they react. The author's sister is a nurse in a pediatric oncology unit. She wrote "Instead of blaming God for taking your loved one away, you should be thankful for whatever time He gave you together" or something resembling that. And I realized that I've been concentrating on what I didn't have (my mom or my sister), when I should have been thankful for the years we had together, and the lessons they taught me.

This thinking lead to other things - instead of grousing about Jamie's medical and behavioral issues, I should be thankful that I still have him with me, and that he is relatively healthy and able to function like most other children. There are many parents whose children are in hospitals, or wheelchairs, or who have died. I'm lucky that I have Jamie with me every day!

So far as family goes, I grouse about a certain family member all the time, but how much harder would life be without the bit of support and love I get from this person? And God has blessed me with what I like to think of as a family of the heart, even if they aren't related to me by genes. So, even if I feel very scared and alone much of the time, I'm not really, because God is there, and my "heart" family is only a phone call away.

Life Imitates Art

Jamie and I went to see a neat exhibit at the local museum of modern art. The author/illustrator of the Babar books wrote a book called "Babar's Museum of Art." He took famous masterpieces and redrew them as they would appear in Babar's fictitious world; so Whistler's Mother was an elephant, the Mona Lisa had a distinct elephantine bent, etc. There were activity cards where you could match the Babar version to the real painting and learn facts about the masterpieces. There was also a table that had copies of some of the paintings in the museum under the glass, and laminated cut-outs of the heads of the various Babar characters, so you could create your own pachydermic painting.

The exhibit was fun, but I felt I was in one of those "life imitates art" stories. I've been feeling decidedly unfemine and unattractive lately, so I kind of felt like all those elephants in those paintings could have represented me. Finding yourself physically resembling a bunch of elephants dressed up in human clothes is definitely NOT fun. I came home and looked at myself, I mean REALLY looked at myself for the first time in a long time, and I didn't like what I saw. Of course, I didn't like what I saw before, that's why I stopped really looking at myself. So I guess it's time for my annual self-loathing episode and concentrated effort to change my appearance. Maybe I'll succeed this year. Who knows?

Anyway, I'm preparing for my road trip back to Kentucky for my wonderful friend Ann's wedding! I'm very happy for her (and yes, I'll admit it, a tiny... okay, big.... bit envious). It couldn't happen to a nicer person! And Daniel is a sweetheart. Ann's whole family is wonderful (and also pretty much the only ones who ever read this blog). I can't wait to see them all! They pretty much adopted me and Jamie, and I can't wait to see them!

Gotta get back to work, so I can leave on time and go home and start packing!

Random Derailings of a One-Track Mind

It has been said that I have a one-track mind that often gets derailed. Okay, so I'm the one who said it. Big deal. It was still said, right? Anyhoo - the point is, this post does not have one subject, but many subjects I'll touch upon to bring those (happy few) who read my blog up to date on what is occuring in my part of the world these days.

After 11 years in and out of college, I have finally decided what I want to be when I grow up. I'm getting ready to go back to school to pursue a degree in either English Literature or Information Resources (depending on which of the two different colleges offering these two different online degrees will offer me more financial aid). Then I plan to get my Master's of Library Science. I've finally discovered that I would be a great children's librarian (so modest, aren't I?). For years, I've been reading adolescent and children's literature in addition to my own "grown up" favorite authors. I have been known to recommend books to children (whether I know them or just overhear them talking to staff at the local library). I read to Jamie's class at school about once a month, using all the different voices and accents I learned under Ms. Moore (she was such a neat lady!). I enjoy it, and the kids love it. I love kids (but don't have the patience to be a classroom teacher). I want to help kids get excited about the worlds to be found in books. So, there you have it. I'm almost 30 (5 months away - yikes!) and I'm just now deciding what I want to do. Hopefully I'll have it all finished by the time I'm 35 or so. Heck, Jamie will graduate high school when I'm 39!

Speaking of Jamie, he has responded very well to the combination of counseling and medication for his ADD. His last spelling quiz grade was an 82! His last spelling/reading assignment grade was a 100! Yay, Jamie! In about a week, he brought his overall grade up from a 54 to an 80! Now THAT's progress! To celebrate, I took him to a little carnival in the parking lot of one of the malls here and let him ride all the kiddie rides. In addition to an improvement in grades, there has been progress at home, too. I still have to redirect him quite a bit, but it's getting better. His self-esteem is getting higher, too. There for a while, he was really down on himself. He couldn't understand why he was having such a hard time while his classmates kept telling him it was easy. We're still playing with his dosages, so hopefully soon we'll find the minimum effective dose for him to take, and he won't have to struggle anymore.

I'll be taking my car to the shop soon to see if 1) the air conditioner can be fixed, and 2) if it will make the trip to Kentucky or not. I would rather find out if something is about to blow now, rather than out in the middle of Podunk in Arkansas or Tennessee! I'm so excited about this trip!

Looking back over this post, there sure are an inordinate number of exclamation points. If I didn't know better, I would swear this was written by the perky-cheerleader-type.

ADDing Up the Evidence

I'm sorry I haven't posted anything in a while - I've been busy riding the rollercoaster that is Jamie's schooling. He has been doing very well in almost all his subjects. He gets A's and B's in math, science, social studies and the creative arts. But spelling and language arts - that's another matter entirely!

Last report card, Jamie had a C in reading and a D in language arts. Currently, the highest grade he's gotten in language arts this nine-weeks is a 65! All year I've been fighting with the school, telling them there has to be a reason why Jamie has no reading comprehension skills, no memory retention for spelling, impulsivity, inability to pay attention and constant disorganization. I've had meetings with the teacher, meetings with the counselor, meetings with the principal, meetings with the speech therapist, etc. I've been telling them all along that Jamie needs to be tested for learning disabilities. I was told "we don't see any evidence of that."

Finally, I went over their heads and called the district office for special education to ask what I needed to say to get it in their heads that I'm serious and want Jamie tested. A couple of weeks ago I was finally able to sit down with his teacher, counselor, therapist and district education specialist all at once and we agreed, "Yes, Jamie needs to be tested" (gee, where had I heard that before?) They also recommended that Jamie see a child psychiatrist to be tested for behavioral disorders. Seeing as how I had already taken Jamie to his pediatrician, an allergist and a neurologist looking for answers, I figured a child psychiatrist couldn't hurt. So, I took him to one.

He said he was "about 95% certain" Jamie has Attention Deficit Disorder, or ADD (Oh... so THAT'S what the title of this post means!) He is on a mild medication to hopefully help him focus. He's only been on it about a week, but he seems to be doing better. I used to have to fight with him to get him to sit down and read five pages. Now he sits down and reads five to ten chapters in his Larry-Boy chapter books! Jamie will be further tested later this month to see if there are any other psychological things that are holding him back in school.

As for the learning disabilities, we don't know yet. The education coordinator called me this morning to let me know she was going to start the testing today. I don't know how long it will take. I won't be upset if he does have any, or if he doesn't; I just want to know definitely what's wrong, and the best way to help him. Anyone who knows Jamie also knows he is far too intelligent for his problems in school to be at all related to his IQ. I'll keep you all posted!