![]() |
| Curly |
![]() |
| Magic |
![]() |
| Twirly |
![]() |
| Hand Drawn |
![]() |
| Trained |
So how many view me through a reader and saw those Saturday Shots that I posted? Have I mentioned that it's been a tough transition for me this week? I'm grateful that today is Friday and not Saturday. It's one more day to get work done, and try to reacclimate to this thing called Life.
I have no idea what that Texas sun did to my brain, but it's been completely and totally fried.
In this week of weird transition, I've been highly entertained by the kids. Luke decided that he wanted to put on a magic show for us, so the family gathered around and watched in amazement as he pulled things out of his hat, made candy by magic, wrote in invisible ink and other standbys of the magically inclined. We were certainly amazed; mostly at how well he did in pulling off the sleight of hand. We clapped appropriately at the end of each act, and completely made his evening.
But while we enjoyed Luke's act of entertainment on the patio one summer's eve, Micah's was more like The Never Ending Show. The boy thought it would be fun to try his hand at magic, so he took over the discarded items that Luke walked away from. We had to clap when he picked something up, and again when it was placed in the magic hat. When I say that we *had* to clap, I mean that if we didn't, Micah would come over, yell, and take our hands to show us what to do with them. This also applied if one of us decided to get up and leave, or move seats, or otherwise do anything that didn't involve watching his every move and clapping frequently.
Becky said he'll have quite the well-paying gig if he keeps up this magic thing. Baffled, I asked why, because obviously he wasn't performing any magic. "He'll charge people money to get in, then charge them to get away."
That girl has a very valid point.
We'd planned for months to take a trip to Mexico to help with the orphanage, but even the best laid plans fail. The problem was weather related. Kind of. And also involved drugs.
In case you haven't been listening to news at all (I'm so guilty of that), the US is cracking down on drugs being run across the Mexican border. The drug cartels have decided that it seriously hinders business, and have chosen to fight about it. The whole "it's illegal" aspect doesn't really register with these people, because the money is good. And drugs have clouded their judgement. And they're obviously criminals.
So, the main road into Mexico was taken out by hurricane the other week, leaving smaller "side" roads to travel on. No problem, you say, because they're all paved and maintained. Except that these side roads are controlled by the drug cartels. They decide who travels freely and who doesn't. (My free, American, law abiding mind cannot wrap itself around these kind of things, but it doesn't diminish the fact that it's true.) Pretty much if you're driving a black SUV or pickup, you're dead. The drug cartels choose to drive those, so they either take your vehicle and let you walk, or worse. (See the "you're dead" part.) Sometimes, if they're just having a bad day or want amusement or even in need of a little extra cash, they'll kidnap a carful of touristy passengers. Ransom can be expensive, and you're lucky to walk out of it unharmed.
So the weather and drugs conspired to keep us from helping the orphans the way we'd wanted to. We did get into Mexico that one day for an hour or so (and were totally safe, except for the driver trying to flatten the 30" heap of gravel in the middle of the road with the van) but it was just too dangerous to risk going any more often.
So what did we do the remainder of the week? The plan was to build a classroom for the school. It's a 24' square building with a few windows, a door and an AC unit. If our men could get it framed up in the week they were there, the school would be grateful. Our men framed, shingled, installed windows, door and AC unit, and started drywalling. It would have been completed had the missionary not decided that things were going so well that our guys could start another building. That one had the pad leveled, the floor done and a wall built before the missionary changed plans yet again. A bathroom needed installed on the soccer field. Rented equipment built up a 3' mound to elevate the facilities out of the flood plain and the site was leveled and readied for construction.
Our guys can get some work done. They make us proud.
The ladies? Shockingly, things on the mission field are much like they are at home. We spent most of our time in the kitchen either preparing for, making, or cleaning up after meals. A lot of other time was spent shopping for more food. We also managed to clean out the attic and storage room, organizing things and setting up for Vacation Bible School the following week.
Our close proximity to the border lent itself to a lot of fun shopping. The Mexican markets are awesome (so I hear) but were very unsafe to attend. There is a smaller market in South(er) Texas with cheap prices and fun finds, but the prices aren't nearly as negotiable. (Yes! One negotiates a price! That is a shopper's dream right there.) I scored a genuine Coach knockoff purse for $10, faux Coach sunglasses for Becky and I for $4 and $5 (different vendors), and some fun jewelry for $1/piece. The earrings, rings and bracelets were to die for, and the price was better than good. Oh, the fun.
So that was Texas/Mexico in a nutshell. We spent a day in San Antonio touring the Riverwalk and Alamo when we flew in, and an evening at South Padre Island before we flew out, and both were just amazing. But really, we were there doing the Lord's work, and it was wonderful being able to help.
I'd give up a Disney trip to go back again. God is that good.
Micah's Voice took a toddler-sized fit a while back and decided that it just wouldn't keep a charge. This was not so good, but we could at least use it while it was plugged in, right up until we couldn't. But the latter happened at a good time, just as we were on the phone with the company about placing an order for another battery. It was quickly determined that it wasn't the battery that was causing problems, but the unit itself that was the root of all problems.
Unfortunately, getting it back to the company for repairs was a very long and involved process. (Is this a shocker to anyone?) I needed to contact the insurance, fill out forms, secure signatures from therapists and doctors, and get a prescription from the pediatrician for a repair. (Am I the only one who thinks that is weird?) And just because nothing is easy, and I tend to procrastinate a lot, all this took me a month to pull together.
In that month, Micah was rather lost. He was Voiceless. He compensates a lot, and never shows frustration (bless his little wee heart!) but I know he missed that Go-Green Voice because when it was on the table to be boxed up, he glowed with excitement and ran over to tell us something. He was visibly disappointed when he still couldn't talk to us.
Poor kiddo.
His Voice arrived back from the shop this week, fully charged and repaired. We couldn't wait to show Micah, and were rewarded immediately with a smile that stretched across his whole face. We all waited eagerly - what would he tell us? What has he been wanting to say for over a month?
His finger reached out, it waved back and forth across the screen, he debated what to say. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised by what his first choice of words were.
DRINK
EAT
It's all about priorities. He is a boy, after all.
Sometimes when you get back from a trip, you just want to take a week off and recoup. Life is never that easy. Instead, our life is like yours and we all jump in with both feet. I generally sink a while before I resurface and manage to swim, so in the meantime, here are more photos.
Yeh, it's that kind of day. But I figured you didn't want to know that I was awakened at 6 AM by a poop explosion that I had to clean off too many surfaces in the bathroom as well as our bedroom carpet. Neither do you want to know that we had a repeat of 6 AM at 7 PM, accompanied by diaper rash that bit hard (on someone who's diaper-less). So I won't tell you that kind of stuff. I won't tell you that I found a load of damp and smelly towels in the washer that fermented for 10 days while I was gone. I also won't tell you that I spent a whole lot of time fishing string algae out of the pond and didn't even begin unpacking yet.
I did, however, thoroughly enjoy time spent with my kids. It was an awesome day. Behold, the Great Adventure.

The two heroes set out for an adventure, packed and ready for any emergency.
I may become a photo-only blogger. It's tempting. I swear one needs a week's vacation after vacation to transition to real life.
Yes, I do consider a missions trip to South(er) Texas a vacation. There is no better way to spend your time than serving the Lord. It was awesome. I'll round out some thoughts on that someday, but in the meantime, I'm exhausted. Getting home was a long day and a half.
If I distract you with photos, maybe you'll forget that I haven't posted much in the past week.
God, you have promised to be a Father to the fatherless.
Today we realized why there are rat snakes. While cleaning out the attic I cleaned out a rat's nest.
Ewwww.
Today I made a bed out of 3 pool rafts. It's left to be determined whether or not it'll hold up to a night's sleep.
Today I washed men's shirts. These shirts have been worn 3 days running in 100 degree weather while working hard swinging hammers and putting up buildings. These shirts needed washed 2 times, once with baking soda, to get the smell out. I was dumb enough to sniff them after the first washing.
My eyes are still rolling. I think the reek is coming out of my ears.
Today I was horrified over conditions in Mexico, and what the Mexican drug cartels do to innocent people just for driving on certain roads, or visiting the dentist, or nothing at all.
People need the Lord.
Today we learned that a rat snake exists.
And that Mexican bakeries are da bomb.
And that 103 degrees is just plain hot.
But the important thing is that the work we're doing is going to impact lives for years to come.
We made it to South(er) Texas and are a mere 6 miles from the Mexico border. We'll be stationed here at a school so we have internet, but limited time. If I blog at all, it'll be mostly pictures. Like this one:
I have internet connection at the hotel in San Antonio, where we are staying our first night in Texas. Yeah! I'm expecting to not have internet the rest of our trip here, so while I've got a good thing I'll share some thoughts on our stay so far.
* Traveling West makes for a long, long day. It's good if you have a nap to make up for lost time. Or gained time. Something.
* Everything in Texas is bigger. Holy huge portion sizes, my lunch was enough to feed Sam and Josh as well. I wish I'd known this before we each ordered something Huge. It was also Good. Yep, good enough to capitalize it.
* The weather is hot. I knew this and prepared for it by prayer, because how else am I going to take care of that? I sweated rivers and walked around with wet undergarments for a while, but I didn't really mind the heat. God is good.
* Air conditioning. I realized how Texans cope with the heat. They turn the AC down to Polar Temps, sit inside for a few minutes until their blood runs cold, then step back out into the heat. Their bodies are very confused, let me tell you. I had to turn the thermostat in our hotel up a few degrees to keep from freezing fast to the bedsheets. It might not help that we're not accustomed to frigid AC'd air. Where we live, we own fans. They blow warm air.
* The Alamo is The Awesome. I love walking through history, and seeing something built 300 years ago, and knowing what happened there (RIGHT there!) was just amazing to me. And then because I'm a landscape junkie, I admired the trees and flora for a very long time as well.
* Also related: everything in Texas is bigger. The ivy leaves were as big as my open hand. I was blown away. Okay, if I'm being honest, I still am. Wowza.
* The Riverwalk. It's the most fun place to be ever. If you ever get the chance to see San Antonio, it's a must-do. Oh, the fun. And the history. And the things I learned on the boat ride.
And that's what I got in the day we were in San Antonio. We headed South to McAllen, then a bit south(er) to Right Next To The Border and are working there for the week. We'll be crossing over into Mexico a few times to visit the orphanage. (YEAH!) The time we spend on the State Side will be spent building a house for missionaries. I don't plan to have internet, so remember that no news isn't necessarily the fact that I died from the heat.
We're so excited for this opportunity. So far, the awesome is overwhelming.
We've all been touched by the tragedy that struck Haiti. Our hearts have wept over the devastation, the loss of life, the fact that we can't be there personally to help. We gave, so that others could go. We prayed, so that their work of love and labor could be doubled in the time they were there. We did what we could to help, because our hearts beat with compassion.
While I'd love to go to Haiti, I have not been presented with that opportunity. God has not opened that door to me. He has, however, opened a door to Mexico. Even without a natural disaster, poverty, sickness and devastation are rampant in the world. Mexico is not exempt. There are children in Mexico that have been abandoned by their families, children whose parents are no longer living, children who are sick and have nowhere to get medical care. An orphanage is being built to answer the need of those children, and I have been called to help.
When God calls you to help the children, you cannot say no.
Sam and I are leaving for Mexico today. Josh has caught the vision as well, and I love that his heart also aches for those less fortunate. The three of us will be changed forever from this experience in ways that we just can't even forsee.
We'll be gone just over a week. I'll be more than glad to tell you all about it when we return. In the meantime, keep us in your prayers as we serve the Lord South of the Border.
This was an incredibly busy week. (That may qualify to be the understatement of the year.) I was either in the sewing room or in the van, and Micah alternated between being neglected or being drug from here to there right along with me. He has been a trooper all week, growing more and more exhausted as the days drag on, trying to keep his emotions in check and sometimes failing miserably. I understand how he feels, and am amazed at how grown-up he's been in the chaos and frustration. I cranked up the Patience Level, knowing that we'd both benefit.
We were in the van yet again, running from here to there, and it was the 3rd trip into town that day. Micah was tired. He wanted *that* CD put in the player. He wanted *that* song played on the CD. (And this is why we bought him an iPod Touch. His own music, FTW.) But sometimes it's not worth the fight, and sometimes one has to compromise to keep the peace. I was only too glad to put in his music and forward to the song that he chose.
Not that one, he let me know. Nor that. Keep going, he pointed yet again. His frustration was rising because I just wasnt' getting it right. That lack of speech thing sometimes gets in the way of communication. I tried again. And again. He pointed, and shook his finger at me, and made a very real effort to roll his eyes at me.
And then I found The Song. Micah pulled his feet up on his car seat, and covered his mouth with his hands, and grinned from ear to ear as he squealed. And then he laughed. He didn't just giggle. He didn't limit things to a satisfied chuckle. He laughed. Loudly. From way deep inside. The joy of a simple song, of communication, was enough to completely make his day.
The things I learn from my son in the midst of chaos are the best lessons ever. It's the simple things that make us happiest, if only we take the time to recognize them.
Becky and I were talking about swimming, which led to the whole swimsuit controversy, and the unfairness of it all. Seriously, men have no issues with fit or style or coverage in the swim department. They go buy a pair of trunks, put them on, and swim. It's that simple. They've got the choice of pockets vs. no pockets, and color. And while that sounds incredibly boring, there are days that it would be very nice. I'm speaking from a woman's perspective. (And I'm NOT speaking about speedos. Those things need to be worn as swimcaps on the head and nowhere else.)
So here are a few thoughts on things.
Why are bikinis as expensive as one-pieces? Or a bottom and a tankini? Clearly there is far less material and labor involved in the making of it.
Why are women expected to show cleavage and bare midriffs while swimming? And why is it acceptable to be grossed out over stretch marked midriffs but nobody makes a move to cover a man's overlapping keg, covered in hair. *shudder*
I have a bone to pick with Michael Phelps. Thanks to him, men all over the kiddie pool area at the amusement park think they should wear their trunks low enough to see things that shouldn't be seen. Like the fact that you had to shave to sport the look. Please, for the love of eyesight and digested food, cover it up. ALL OF IT. Unroll your waistbands, pull up the shorts, and keep the growing stubble hidden from the world's view. *double shudder* *swallow down the bile*
Also related, why do women who are wearing spare tires and carrying around the extra baby weight (from all their children combined) think they can squeeze themselves into swimwear clearly designed for teens with no body development yet? If it's oozing out of the cut-outs like Pillsbury dough from a can, it's just not a good fit. Trust me on this one. If you bend over and have to tuck your bewbs back in, it's also not a good fit. Now you know why I loathe public pools. And why I never, ever wear a swimsuit. Well, not until I got that fun swim dress that could double as a top in public. See? Covering things that others dont' need to see. You're welcome.
And why are women so self-conscious of things (well, women with half a brain in their heads) when men clearly think they are the answer to every woman's prayers? Case in point: as Becky and I were discussing the merits of swimwear and the unfairness of swimwear pricing and coverage, Luke felt the need to declare that it's all good. Actually he said, "sometimes you just have to bust out the manliness." Being that he's all of 9 years old, I'm not entirely sure he knows whereof he speaks.
It starts at such an early age.
Last week was an interesting one. I spent a whole lot of money (hello, Disney Visa points!) that I probably shouldn't have, but I made a good share of money as well, so it's kind of a take and a give. God bless ebay.
I decided that my camera was less than what I wanted it to be, and talked myself into a new(er) one. It took some talking, let me tell you, but I did it. And I found one that I wanted on Amazon. I then proceeded to cash in a whole lot of Swagbucks to help pay for said expenditure, but turns out that I found a Newer! Better! Cheaper! camera on Ebay instead. So last week I:
* Bought a new(er) camera.
* Cashed in $90 worth of swagbucks for Amazon gift cards. (I accumulated that $90 in 2 months time. Me = VERY happy.)
* Sold $90 worth of Amazon gift cards on Ebay for $110. There are some messed up people out there, but if I benefit from their demensia, it's all good.
*******************
With all the time I spent on Ebay researching cameras and whatnot, I came across some other things that I couldn't resist. Also purchases last week were:
* Wii (This was totally by accident, by the way. I swear.)
* iPod Touch, times 2 (One for Micah, one for myself because I'm in love with the whole i-ownership thing now.)
There is an app for the iPod that does exactly the same thing that Micah's talker does. (There really IS an app for that!) While it's on the spendier side of SO NOT FREE, it's a great back-up for him. And of course the iPod offers so much more as well, what with an app for everything. It's already been a sanity saver in these departments:
* Keeping Luke entertained with games while I was at a hair appointment.
*Keeping Micah entertained while waiting at the doctor's office.
* Not having to listen to Micah's CD in the van YET AGAIN for the bazillionty thirty thousandth time this month.
* Making Becky jealous because her brother has an iPod and she doesn't. She was pacified considerably when she realized that he doesn't have texting. If the kid ever learns to spell, he'll get it. He can't talk, yo. How else would you expect him to get in touch with his mother?

As any parent knows, you pick and choose your battles. With our firstborn, we made everything a battle. I think every overzealous parent does that in an effort to be Best Parent Ever And Not Make Mistakes And Mess This Child Up For Life, making mistakes and messing the child up for life in the meantime. We became more lax with each one after her, and then came Micah. That child taught us the meaning of lax like we hadn't known it existed.
There are some things, however, that we do fight over. Car seats are one of them. The great state of Pennsylvania declares that kids are in car seats until 8 years of age or 80 pounds, whichever comes first. We have scrawny kids here so the 80 pound thing happens well after 8 years of age. We've been in the land of car seats for 15+ years now, and still have 7 months, 25 days, and 9 hours to go before we're done with that stage of our lives forever and ever. Amen and hallelujah.
But the problem is that Micah is an observant kind of kid. He sees that Becky, Josh, nor even Luke are in a baby seat of shame when in a vehicle, therefore he sees no reason why he needs to be in one. I wish there were ways around this, but laws are laws, and we're not lawbreakers. Micah thinks there are ways around it though. He's tried.
Apparently, if you take Woody with you in the van, Woody needs to ride in a car seat. There is only one car seat, so he'll sit in a big boy seat.
Wrong.
So he tried another tactic. Car seats are for things that are dearly loved. You buy a bag of Doritos in the checkout aisle? Strap them into your car seat. Safe and sound. You bring your favorite stuffed pig with you to town? Strap it in the car seat. No more flying pork bellies. You get a prize at church for saying your verse (or in his case, making a great and glorious attempt)? You get the picture.
He was really mad to realize that didn't work out so well for him either.
We've only got 7 months, 25 days, and 8.5 hours left...
Micah is not a fan of getting his hair cut. (There's probably a club for that on Facebook.) Ever since he was a wee tyke, he cried his way through the ordeal. And if I'm being honest here, that's putting it mildly. For a while, I cut his hair myself, then decided that it was worth paying a professional for. We rotated through the professionals on a regular basis, just to keep any particular one from cringing too badly when we called to schedule.
We tried just about all the tricks of the trade. We gave him a lollipop to keep him occupied during the appointment. Being astute parents, we realized that that was the dumbest idea anyone ever had. Hair falling onto the sticky lollipop ended the fun before it even began, and that compounded the crying. Fail.
We tried giving him a mirror, and that seemed to help for a while. But I have strong suspicions that he has sensory issues way up there on his head, and the clippers were just too much for him. We switched over to scissors, but by then it was too late. He was paranoid, and slightly traumatized.
We sat him on a stool rather than a chair, because the thrashing was kept to a minimum for fear of falling off. The crying and arm waving, however, were not hindered. And he still had full head mobility. It helped, but not nearly enough.
We sat him at a sink with a sprayer hose and let him play in a tub full of soap suds. That was highly entertaining for all involved, and he very nearly forgot to fuss. The whole "lady, get out of my way because I'm trying to play" arm flailing still went on though.
It was time for The Summer Shave this week, so I sat him down on a folding step stool in our bathroom. Cue the screaming and thrashing. He tried sitting up taller so that he could see in a mirror above the sink, so I had the genius idea to pull the stool over to the counter and let him stand up to watch the action. I guess he's gotten over his sensory issues enough to just be mesmerized by the process without fussing, because it worked wonders.
Right up until I hit a sweaty spot with the clippers. Ouch, that pulls.
We're back to square one with the boy.
So I have this camera, and I love it like it's my 5th child. In fact, I've referred to it as such on many occasions. Some days, it's my favorite child. That would be the days that it does a stellar job of capturing photographical moments in time of my other 4 kids. It's good at this, most of the time. See what it's given me just this past month: