I can't sleep, therefore I Facebook stalk. I Facebook stalk past students. I'm curious about how they are doing out there in the scary, dark world we call Middle School. Are they acing their tests like their second grade teacher prepared them for? Do they love to read like I prayed they would? Are they on their way to becoming functioning, productive members of society?
I read.
I cry.
I find my sweet, quiet, studious, precious, dare I say "favorite" student of that first year of teaching. And this is what I find.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
I'm Too Good For First Class.
It's no secret that Doug and I have the worst luck when it comes to traveling. I think it's officially been narrowed down to me on who might be responsible for it though.
It should come as no surprise that it took me 3 weeks (7 attempted flights, and way way more flights that ended up not opening any seats) to even be able to get over here to the grand US of A. Unfortunately, that apparently was only the beginning of my travel woes.
Long story short, I was in Wichita for a couple of weeks and planned on flying to Spokane to visit Doug, whom I haven't seen in 2 months. So excited, right? Right.
So I'm sitting in the terminal waiting to board the first flight to Minneapolis and the lovely lady comes across the speakers saying our airplane is broken and it may not be able to go. Right then and there I wanted to stand up and apologize to everyone else on the flight that I was riding on their airplane. It's my fault the flaps are broken.
Flaps are important, people. I'm a pilot's wife. I know these things. I've also seen countless episodes of Air Crash Investigations --- or Mayday for my Canadian friends or Air Emergency or Air Disasters for my American friends. I urge you to check this show out. It makes you feel like you're going to crash at all times while your flying. It's fabulous. I've seriously considered investing in adult diapers for my flying experiences these days. Just sayin'.
Anyway, the very nice lady that gave us that announcement helped me see if there were other flights leaving Wichita that day so I could go find my long lost husband. But alas, it was not meant to be. But she said I was so sweet that she would put me in first class for the Minneapolis to Spokane leg the next day. Score! I'll take it.
Mom drove about 45 minutes back to the airport to get super posh daughter. Sorry, Mom. But thanks for the Sonic. Score again!
That night I did some research on how I should behave in first class. Man was I nervous. I could use all the help I could get, and thanks to my awesome friends and family I got all the info I'd ever need.
1. Say in my best rich person voice, "Bring me the head of a pig". - credit goes to Kristin
2. Immediately pull out my laptop and look busy when everyone else boards so they think I'm making money right NOW. - credit goes to Kristin and Liz
3. Don't look like a scrub. - credit goes to lots of advice online. I don't think scrub was used in that advice, but that's my paraphrase.
4. Bathe - credit goes to myself. Sometimes my smartness amazes me.
5. Appear to know what I'm doing. - credit goes to myself, thus the reason I was researching.
6. Don't wear flip-flops because apparently people will look down on me if I do. - credit goes to random man on message board who thinks people who wear flip-flops are "low rent" --- including his wife. Jerk.
7. Shout obscenities and throw bodily fluids. - credit goes to Nick and Liz
8. Use my newly acquired British accent. - credit goes to Katie
9. Speak French. - credit goes to Liz (all I really know is oui which would really go right along with the throwing bodily fluids around)
10. Bring your own colorful and fringed shawl/blankey thing - using the blanket the airline provides is so pedestrian. I believe rich people call them pashminas. - credit goes to Lindsay
11. Wear giant sunglasses at all times. - credit goes to Lindsay and Andy
12. Take an excessively long time to put your luggage in the overhead compartment thereby holding up the rest of the passengers waiting to board. - credit goes to Lindsay
13. Look really disinterested in anything. - credit goes to Matt
14. Ask for Grey Poupon. - credit goes to Megan
15. Walk in like you own it. - credit goes to Nick
16. Carry my Coach bag. - credit goes to Hallie
17. If you have to write anything, use apostrophes correctly. It shows you are educated. - credit goes to Janel
18. Order a glass of wine to enjoy while others board. - credit goes to Shaun and Kathee
19. Where a big, fancy hat. - credit goes to Chris
20. Little Finger Up while sipping is a key. - credit goes to John
Who wouldn't be ready for first class with a list like that?!? Feel free to borrow these tips, all my fancy friends.
Thankfully the following day my flight took off. On a different plane that had flaps that worked. Flaps are important.
I get to Minneapolis and choose not to eat a meal because I'm riding in first class, therefore I will be receiving a head of a pig for my dinner. I settled on a little snack of an egg roll...and maybe a piece of fudge from the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory (they had a military discount, I couldn't help myself).
Boarding time came and right before they call first class to board my name popped up on upgrade screen. I was already assigned to seat 2C how much more could I be upgraded? First row? Pilot? There was no time to go up to the desk because they immediately called boarding so I just decided to wait til' they scanned my boarding pass to find out what I was so lucky to upgrade to. My boarding pass gets scanned and the machine prints out a piece of paper and the lady hands it to me and says, "Here's your new seat!" Sweet. 5D. Nothing too weird. 5D still sounds like first class so I'm still flying high. Then I get on the plane and look at the seats....
5D is not first class. 5D is the first row of coach. Did I not study hard enough for first class? Did I stink? Did I smell of inferiority? I was wearing flip-flops --- that had to be it. I was "low rent".
I thought, "Well, maybe they have extended first class an extra row." Then all the people in front of me got served drinks. The flight attendant didn't even look in my direction. My world started to cave in around me.
Once we took off I knew my dream was not going to happen because this happened.
They shut the "curtain". Not just any curtain. A curtain you can see through. It screams, "You're blocked out of this world, but you can still see into it. Sucker." Worst seat ever.
I sat there and watched as they were handed, with oversized tweezers (the flight attendant musn't touch the first class person), warm washrags to blot their travel-weary faces. WHAT ABOUT MY TRAVEL WEARY FACE?!?
I sat there and watched each person get a cloth placemat laid out in front of them. I MAKE MESSES TOO!!
I sat there and watched them get served steak, salad, and dessert on glass dishes. I'M HUNGRY!! I'M LIVING OFF OF A COLD EGGROLL SERVED IN A PAPER TRAY.
I sat there and watched them sprinkle salt and pepper out of their very own porcelain salt and pepper shakers. RUBBING SALT IN MY WOUND, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!
I sat there and watched them drink out of crystallike glasses for the rest of the flight. PLASTIC FLIMSY GLASSES, THAT'S WHAT I'M DRINKING OUT OF AND IF THE TWO TODDLERS BEHIND ME THAT ARE SCREAMING AND KICKING MY CHAIR DON'T STOP I'M GOING TO ACCIDENTALLY SPILL MY PLASTIC, FLIMSY DRINK OVER THE BACK OF MY CHAIR.
I sat there and watched them cuddle up with their blankets and pillows for a lovely midflight nap. I'M SO COLD. STUPID FLIP-FLOPS.
Thankfully they didn't have inflight entertainment...that would've been it.
I was sitting next to an army chaplain and I felt like I needed to confess my first class lust at the end of the flight. I'm not Catholic and I'm pretty sure he wasn't either, but I still felt like I needed to. I didn't. I was too ashamed. I confessed to my husband later.
And he laughed at me.
Then I showed him what I found in the in-flight magazine, while I was trying to ignore what was happening in front of me, that I'm gonna buy him for his birthday.
Who's laughing now?!? Our Christmas cards are gonna be adorable.
It should come as no surprise that it took me 3 weeks (7 attempted flights, and way way more flights that ended up not opening any seats) to even be able to get over here to the grand US of A. Unfortunately, that apparently was only the beginning of my travel woes.
Long story short, I was in Wichita for a couple of weeks and planned on flying to Spokane to visit Doug, whom I haven't seen in 2 months. So excited, right? Right.
So I'm sitting in the terminal waiting to board the first flight to Minneapolis and the lovely lady comes across the speakers saying our airplane is broken and it may not be able to go. Right then and there I wanted to stand up and apologize to everyone else on the flight that I was riding on their airplane. It's my fault the flaps are broken.
Flaps are important, people. I'm a pilot's wife. I know these things. I've also seen countless episodes of Air Crash Investigations --- or Mayday for my Canadian friends or Air Emergency or Air Disasters for my American friends. I urge you to check this show out. It makes you feel like you're going to crash at all times while your flying. It's fabulous. I've seriously considered investing in adult diapers for my flying experiences these days. Just sayin'.
Anyway, the very nice lady that gave us that announcement helped me see if there were other flights leaving Wichita that day so I could go find my long lost husband. But alas, it was not meant to be. But she said I was so sweet that she would put me in first class for the Minneapolis to Spokane leg the next day. Score! I'll take it.
Mom drove about 45 minutes back to the airport to get super posh daughter. Sorry, Mom. But thanks for the Sonic. Score again!
That night I did some research on how I should behave in first class. Man was I nervous. I could use all the help I could get, and thanks to my awesome friends and family I got all the info I'd ever need.
1. Say in my best rich person voice, "Bring me the head of a pig". - credit goes to Kristin
2. Immediately pull out my laptop and look busy when everyone else boards so they think I'm making money right NOW. - credit goes to Kristin and Liz
3. Don't look like a scrub. - credit goes to lots of advice online. I don't think scrub was used in that advice, but that's my paraphrase.
4. Bathe - credit goes to myself. Sometimes my smartness amazes me.
5. Appear to know what I'm doing. - credit goes to myself, thus the reason I was researching.
6. Don't wear flip-flops because apparently people will look down on me if I do. - credit goes to random man on message board who thinks people who wear flip-flops are "low rent" --- including his wife. Jerk.
7. Shout obscenities and throw bodily fluids. - credit goes to Nick and Liz
8. Use my newly acquired British accent. - credit goes to Katie
9. Speak French. - credit goes to Liz (all I really know is oui which would really go right along with the throwing bodily fluids around)
10. Bring your own colorful and fringed shawl/blankey thing - using the blanket the airline provides is so pedestrian. I believe rich people call them pashminas. - credit goes to Lindsay
11. Wear giant sunglasses at all times. - credit goes to Lindsay and Andy
12. Take an excessively long time to put your luggage in the overhead compartment thereby holding up the rest of the passengers waiting to board. - credit goes to Lindsay
13. Look really disinterested in anything. - credit goes to Matt
14. Ask for Grey Poupon. - credit goes to Megan
15. Walk in like you own it. - credit goes to Nick
16. Carry my Coach bag. - credit goes to Hallie
17. If you have to write anything, use apostrophes correctly. It shows you are educated. - credit goes to Janel
18. Order a glass of wine to enjoy while others board. - credit goes to Shaun and Kathee
19. Where a big, fancy hat. - credit goes to Chris
20. Little Finger Up while sipping is a key. - credit goes to John
Who wouldn't be ready for first class with a list like that?!? Feel free to borrow these tips, all my fancy friends.
Thankfully the following day my flight took off. On a different plane that had flaps that worked. Flaps are important.
I get to Minneapolis and choose not to eat a meal because I'm riding in first class, therefore I will be receiving a head of a pig for my dinner. I settled on a little snack of an egg roll...and maybe a piece of fudge from the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory (they had a military discount, I couldn't help myself).
Boarding time came and right before they call first class to board my name popped up on upgrade screen. I was already assigned to seat 2C how much more could I be upgraded? First row? Pilot? There was no time to go up to the desk because they immediately called boarding so I just decided to wait til' they scanned my boarding pass to find out what I was so lucky to upgrade to. My boarding pass gets scanned and the machine prints out a piece of paper and the lady hands it to me and says, "Here's your new seat!" Sweet. 5D. Nothing too weird. 5D still sounds like first class so I'm still flying high. Then I get on the plane and look at the seats....
5D is not first class. 5D is the first row of coach. Did I not study hard enough for first class? Did I stink? Did I smell of inferiority? I was wearing flip-flops --- that had to be it. I was "low rent".
I thought, "Well, maybe they have extended first class an extra row." Then all the people in front of me got served drinks. The flight attendant didn't even look in my direction. My world started to cave in around me.
Once we took off I knew my dream was not going to happen because this happened.
They shut the "curtain". Not just any curtain. A curtain you can see through. It screams, "You're blocked out of this world, but you can still see into it. Sucker." Worst seat ever.
I sat there and watched as they were handed, with oversized tweezers (the flight attendant musn't touch the first class person), warm washrags to blot their travel-weary faces. WHAT ABOUT MY TRAVEL WEARY FACE?!?
I sat there and watched each person get a cloth placemat laid out in front of them. I MAKE MESSES TOO!!
I sat there and watched them get served steak, salad, and dessert on glass dishes. I'M HUNGRY!! I'M LIVING OFF OF A COLD EGGROLL SERVED IN A PAPER TRAY.
I sat there and watched them sprinkle salt and pepper out of their very own porcelain salt and pepper shakers. RUBBING SALT IN MY WOUND, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!
I sat there and watched them drink out of crystallike glasses for the rest of the flight. PLASTIC FLIMSY GLASSES, THAT'S WHAT I'M DRINKING OUT OF AND IF THE TWO TODDLERS BEHIND ME THAT ARE SCREAMING AND KICKING MY CHAIR DON'T STOP I'M GOING TO ACCIDENTALLY SPILL MY PLASTIC, FLIMSY DRINK OVER THE BACK OF MY CHAIR.
I sat there and watched them cuddle up with their blankets and pillows for a lovely midflight nap. I'M SO COLD. STUPID FLIP-FLOPS.
Thankfully they didn't have inflight entertainment...that would've been it.
I was sitting next to an army chaplain and I felt like I needed to confess my first class lust at the end of the flight. I'm not Catholic and I'm pretty sure he wasn't either, but I still felt like I needed to. I didn't. I was too ashamed. I confessed to my husband later.
And he laughed at me.
Then I showed him what I found in the in-flight magazine, while I was trying to ignore what was happening in front of me, that I'm gonna buy him for his birthday.
Who's laughing now?!? Our Christmas cards are gonna be adorable.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Yaalright?
One of my goals this year has been to consistently, appropriately respond when an English person asks me a basic question. Not just any basic question...a very common one over here.
Now in the states when someone walks up to you they may ask, "How are you?" To which you would reply with, "fine", "good", "I'm doing well", or "Well, so far today, I woke up and stubbed my toe, spilled my milk from my cereal bowl, didn't get all of the conditioner washed out of my hair (which is why it looks so greasy right now...it's not because I don't wash my hair), burned my ear on my straightener, and burned dinner." Maybe not the last response, but you catch my drift.
Over here they don't ask you, "How are you?" Instead it goes a little like this:
"Yaalright?"
Now say it fast...now add an accent.
So for about a year I never answered this question appropriately. Not once. My answers varied throughout those months. Conversations went a little like this:
Man Fixing My Dryer: Yaalright?
Me: Uuuuuuhahhhh.
I'm not kidding. Sound it out. It's what I did. I felt dumb.
Person at Church: Yaalright?
Me:Fine.
Yea, that made A LOT of sense. I promise I do speak in complete sentences on occasion.
Neighbor: Yaalright?
Me: Complete blank stare. *thinking* What have they heard about me?!? Are there rumors going around? Do I look sick? Do I look like I'm not alright?!?
So because I was tired of feeling like a complete imbecile every time someone tried to be nice and ask if I was alright, I made it a goal to really start listening and answer appropriately.
I might or might not have practiced to myself at home.
I would like to report that when someone asks me, "Yaalright?" I can now respond with a very intellectual response of "Yes, and you?" quite consistently.
Brilliant.
It only took me 14 months to master. It's a good thing we live in a country that at least kind of speaks a language I understand. I'd be in a world of trouble if we were in Japan. Think of all the insults I could be hurling at people and not even know it.
I'll take heavy accents, weird words, and strange syntax. Thank you very much!
Now in the states when someone walks up to you they may ask, "How are you?" To which you would reply with, "fine", "good", "I'm doing well", or "Well, so far today, I woke up and stubbed my toe, spilled my milk from my cereal bowl, didn't get all of the conditioner washed out of my hair (which is why it looks so greasy right now...it's not because I don't wash my hair), burned my ear on my straightener, and burned dinner." Maybe not the last response, but you catch my drift.
Over here they don't ask you, "How are you?" Instead it goes a little like this:
"Yaalright?"
Now say it fast...now add an accent.
So for about a year I never answered this question appropriately. Not once. My answers varied throughout those months. Conversations went a little like this:
Man Fixing My Dryer: Yaalright?
Me: Uuuuuuhahhhh.
I'm not kidding. Sound it out. It's what I did. I felt dumb.
Person at Church: Yaalright?
Me:Fine.
Yea, that made A LOT of sense. I promise I do speak in complete sentences on occasion.
Neighbor: Yaalright?
Me: Complete blank stare. *thinking* What have they heard about me?!? Are there rumors going around? Do I look sick? Do I look like I'm not alright?!?
So because I was tired of feeling like a complete imbecile every time someone tried to be nice and ask if I was alright, I made it a goal to really start listening and answer appropriately.
I might or might not have practiced to myself at home.
I would like to report that when someone asks me, "Yaalright?" I can now respond with a very intellectual response of "Yes, and you?" quite consistently.
Brilliant.
It only took me 14 months to master. It's a good thing we live in a country that at least kind of speaks a language I understand. I'd be in a world of trouble if we were in Japan. Think of all the insults I could be hurling at people and not even know it.
I'll take heavy accents, weird words, and strange syntax. Thank you very much!
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant
Did my title capture your attention? Did it hook you? My high school English teachers would be so proud.
Don't get your panties in a wad though, cuz I'm not...at least I don't think so.
Seriously though, have you seen this show on TLC? Or on DMAX if you're on the other side of the ginormous pond. It is downright ridiculousness. It's one of those shows you just watch and wonder, "What the heedizzle?!?"
For those of you out there who have never been blessed to be able to view the beauty of this show it's about women who go into labor and give birth without ever knowing they were pregnant for the past 9 months. They go into labor and are pretty positive their about to die rather than birth a child. Which from what I've heard even women who know they're pregnant are convinced of the same.
I often watch this show (and it's always the same 3 episodes they repeatedly play) and wonder how the heck do you go for 9 months and not have a clue? There are larger ladies on the show so I suppose I could see that...maybe. BUT the itty bitty girls...where in the world does the kid go?!?
Now it used to be healthy for me to watch this show. Just one of those shows I sit in wonderment at and laugh...then get on my knees and pray it's not possible.
But it's gone to a whole new level.
Now when I bake cookies and they are sitting on my counter and I think, "Wow, a cookie sounds really good right now!"
My immediate response to myself is, "Oh shoot, is this a craving?!? Am I pregnant and I don't know it?!"
Then I must remind myself, "Self, there are fresh chocolate chip cookies for your taking...who wouldn't crave one of those beauties?!?"
Now when I gain a pound or two I think, "Oh man, I've gained a couple pounds!! Am I pregnant and I don't know it?!"
Then I must remind myself, "Self, you've been eating the fresh chocolate chip cookies on your counter and you haven't worked out for a month. There is an explanation for this."
Now when I lie in bed at night and I feel movement in my abdominal area I think, "Holy Moses, is that a baby moving?! Am I pregnant and I don't know it?!" Then I can't fall asleep...so I do the only thing that makes sense...design the nursery in my head.
Then after I've decided on color schemes and wood finishes I must remind myself, "Self, remember those cookies? There's this thing called digestion. There is an explanation for this."
So, if you ever consider watching the show "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant", you might want to rethink it...unless you want to be paranoid every time your body does something that's probably completely normal because you eat cookies. That show is straight from the devil.
BTW, I'm really not pregnant...unless I just don't know it.
Now excuse me while I go eat a cookie.
Don't get your panties in a wad though, cuz I'm not...at least I don't think so.
Seriously though, have you seen this show on TLC? Or on DMAX if you're on the other side of the ginormous pond. It is downright ridiculousness. It's one of those shows you just watch and wonder, "What the heedizzle?!?"
For those of you out there who have never been blessed to be able to view the beauty of this show it's about women who go into labor and give birth without ever knowing they were pregnant for the past 9 months. They go into labor and are pretty positive their about to die rather than birth a child. Which from what I've heard even women who know they're pregnant are convinced of the same.
I often watch this show (and it's always the same 3 episodes they repeatedly play) and wonder how the heck do you go for 9 months and not have a clue? There are larger ladies on the show so I suppose I could see that...maybe. BUT the itty bitty girls...where in the world does the kid go?!?
Now it used to be healthy for me to watch this show. Just one of those shows I sit in wonderment at and laugh...then get on my knees and pray it's not possible.
But it's gone to a whole new level.
Now when I bake cookies and they are sitting on my counter and I think, "Wow, a cookie sounds really good right now!"
My immediate response to myself is, "Oh shoot, is this a craving?!? Am I pregnant and I don't know it?!"
Then I must remind myself, "Self, there are fresh chocolate chip cookies for your taking...who wouldn't crave one of those beauties?!?"
Now when I gain a pound or two I think, "Oh man, I've gained a couple pounds!! Am I pregnant and I don't know it?!"
Then I must remind myself, "Self, you've been eating the fresh chocolate chip cookies on your counter and you haven't worked out for a month. There is an explanation for this."
Now when I lie in bed at night and I feel movement in my abdominal area I think, "Holy Moses, is that a baby moving?! Am I pregnant and I don't know it?!" Then I can't fall asleep...so I do the only thing that makes sense...design the nursery in my head.
Then after I've decided on color schemes and wood finishes I must remind myself, "Self, remember those cookies? There's this thing called digestion. There is an explanation for this."
So, if you ever consider watching the show "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant", you might want to rethink it...unless you want to be paranoid every time your body does something that's probably completely normal because you eat cookies. That show is straight from the devil.
BTW, I'm really not pregnant...unless I just don't know it.
Now excuse me while I go eat a cookie.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Nightmares
How is it that healing takes a really really long time sometimes?
May 4, 2007 was a devastating day for a whole town in Kansas. The day that Greensburg was completely taken out. Peoples' lives were completely flipped upside down.
That same night, my life flipped upside down in a whole different way...and to this day I still have nightmares. In fact, I had one last night. I was so excited because I hadn't had one in probably a month or maybe even two, and had actually had a brief thought late last week that it had been quite a while since I'd had one...then last night happened. I woke up in a cold sweat and my heart racing. I hate it.
I thought back in 2007 that I was in God's will, yet at the same time I knew I wasn't...I really have no idea how to explain it except that I was one confused lady...obviously, based on that description! One day I was going about life as normal, had a new job, was moving back to be closer to home, and then Bam! the next day I was on a rollercoaster in a tunnel and I didn't feel like I could ever figure out what was going on or what was going to happen next. All I knew was I was stuck on this ride and was never gonna be able to get off.
Over the course of the next 3 months my heart got shredded. I don't think I compare the emotional pain to anything I have EVER felt before or since. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I lost sight of what life was supposed to be like. I lost sight of what God really wanted. I think I knew for a while that what was going on was not what God wanted, but I really felt like I had no idea how to fix it. Like I had made my bed and now I was going to lie in it.
Somehow those 3 months are a blur and yet I have flashbacks of details that hit me randomly. Somehow God brought me out of that weird fog and right back to Him and I know He has forgiven me for not listening, but I've discovered that the hardest thing is forgiving myself. I think I do pretty well most of the time, but then the nightmares hit and I don't know where they come from. I thought once we moved I wouldn't see familiar vehicles, locations, or people so it would all go away, but it hasn't. I think since moving I've had to actually face more of the guilt than before because I've been starting all over. I've had a lot more time on my own than ever before and so I've had to deal with stuff that I didn't deal with in the past.
Obviously Satan knows my weak spots and likes to point out, "You are such an idiot! Look what you did 4 years ago! What were you thinking?!?" I often times let my guard down by not spending time in the Word or praying like I should, and that's exactly when Satan decides to take advantage. Why do I never learn?!?
God has brought me a very very long way since 2007. I have the best husband in the entire world. He treats me with respect. He shows that he loves me physically, mentally, emotionally...He actually wants to be associated with me in public, he says loving things to me, he prays for me, he financially takes care of me...I am blessed. I don't deserve any of it, yet God decided to bless me with this man.
This year I refuse to live in bondage over my past. Yes, I wish I could go back and change May 4, 2007. I wish the people in Greensburg didn't have to go through the pain of losing everything that night. I wish I would've sought more of God's guidance to prevent the next three months. I can wish all I want though, but it's happened, and just as the people in a tornado ridden town have to rebuild so do I.
Here's hoping for no more nightmares...and if I do, I refuse to dwell on it and feel guilty or ridden with fear. Instead I will rebuke Satan in the name of Jesus, hold onto my joy that He has brought me to where I am today, and go back to sleep peacefully in His arms.
May 4, 2007 was a devastating day for a whole town in Kansas. The day that Greensburg was completely taken out. Peoples' lives were completely flipped upside down.
That same night, my life flipped upside down in a whole different way...and to this day I still have nightmares. In fact, I had one last night. I was so excited because I hadn't had one in probably a month or maybe even two, and had actually had a brief thought late last week that it had been quite a while since I'd had one...then last night happened. I woke up in a cold sweat and my heart racing. I hate it.
I thought back in 2007 that I was in God's will, yet at the same time I knew I wasn't...I really have no idea how to explain it except that I was one confused lady...obviously, based on that description! One day I was going about life as normal, had a new job, was moving back to be closer to home, and then Bam! the next day I was on a rollercoaster in a tunnel and I didn't feel like I could ever figure out what was going on or what was going to happen next. All I knew was I was stuck on this ride and was never gonna be able to get off.
Over the course of the next 3 months my heart got shredded. I don't think I compare the emotional pain to anything I have EVER felt before or since. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I lost sight of what life was supposed to be like. I lost sight of what God really wanted. I think I knew for a while that what was going on was not what God wanted, but I really felt like I had no idea how to fix it. Like I had made my bed and now I was going to lie in it.
Somehow those 3 months are a blur and yet I have flashbacks of details that hit me randomly. Somehow God brought me out of that weird fog and right back to Him and I know He has forgiven me for not listening, but I've discovered that the hardest thing is forgiving myself. I think I do pretty well most of the time, but then the nightmares hit and I don't know where they come from. I thought once we moved I wouldn't see familiar vehicles, locations, or people so it would all go away, but it hasn't. I think since moving I've had to actually face more of the guilt than before because I've been starting all over. I've had a lot more time on my own than ever before and so I've had to deal with stuff that I didn't deal with in the past.
Obviously Satan knows my weak spots and likes to point out, "You are such an idiot! Look what you did 4 years ago! What were you thinking?!?" I often times let my guard down by not spending time in the Word or praying like I should, and that's exactly when Satan decides to take advantage. Why do I never learn?!?
God has brought me a very very long way since 2007. I have the best husband in the entire world. He treats me with respect. He shows that he loves me physically, mentally, emotionally...He actually wants to be associated with me in public, he says loving things to me, he prays for me, he financially takes care of me...I am blessed. I don't deserve any of it, yet God decided to bless me with this man.
This year I refuse to live in bondage over my past. Yes, I wish I could go back and change May 4, 2007. I wish the people in Greensburg didn't have to go through the pain of losing everything that night. I wish I would've sought more of God's guidance to prevent the next three months. I can wish all I want though, but it's happened, and just as the people in a tornado ridden town have to rebuild so do I.
Here's hoping for no more nightmares...and if I do, I refuse to dwell on it and feel guilty or ridden with fear. Instead I will rebuke Satan in the name of Jesus, hold onto my joy that He has brought me to where I am today, and go back to sleep peacefully in His arms.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Wonka Observations
As a child I never gave a second thought to Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. While watching today I noticed a few things after having some life experience.
- How come my teachers never dismissed my classes when there were give aways inside candy bars? I totally got jipped.
- I didn't understand the little random scenes as a child...you'll be glad to know that I would give up my case of Wonka bars if my husband's life depended on it.
- I want to punch Veruca Salt in the face...wait, I wanted to do that when I was a kid too.
- I want to punch Mr. and Mrs. Salt in the face too.
- How the heck does Slugworth know the order the candy bars will be opened?
- What kind of parent wouldn't be alarmed that a creepy looking stranger man, with a huge scar across his face that appears to be from a knifing, is whispering in their child's ear? Parents in the 70's were far too trusting.
- I would like to name my future child Charlie just so I can stand in an alley and sing to him. The song is perfectly in my vocal range. It only makes sense to name him Charlie because of this.
- I think I've taught Mike Teevee.
- On the subject of teaching, how come the teacher can't figure out the percentage for 2 candy bars? He probably shouldn't have gotten his degree...or at least he should have read his teacher's edition.
- Grandpa Joe is a lazy bum. "Bed Ridden for 20 years" my butt. I'm onto you Grandpa Joe.
- Speaking of bed ridden for 20 years and never setting foot on the floor during that time, there are 4 old people sleeping in one bed...for 20 years...that just screams bed bugs to me.
- If chocolate can bring an old man out of bed after 20 years, he can overcome his atrophy, and be dancing circles within minutes, my theory that chocolate fixes everything has some truth to it.
- Gene Wilder scares me.
- I can't think of a better way to go than drowning in chocolate.
- Oompa-Loompas' skin color reminds me of some of the contestants on The Bachelor.
- How disgusting would an Everlasting Gobstopper be? Slobbery and sticky.
- I can only imagine how fast strep would spread with lickable wallpaper.
- Who knew you could float when you were attached by a string to your pants?!
- Always, always read the small print.
- I live in a town that looks like Charlie's town.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Cadbury Craziness!!
Seriously it's like heaven here. The weather really stinks right now, but it's been Easter here for about a month! A month I say! That means Easter candy galore. It seems my British friends passed up Valentines Day for the most part and went straight to Easter.
And we all know what Easter means right?!? That's right, my friends!! CADBURY CREME EGGS!! All of that unknown goo all wrapped in delicious, silky smooth Cadbury chocolate.
One of the beauties of living in England is you can find Cadbury chocolate on every corner. It's like what Hershey's is to the US of A...only way creamier.
Over here you can buy Cadbury Creme Eggs in bulk. Yes, you heard me right all you chocolate creamy goopy fiends. You can buy them with great self-control and only get one. Or. You can step it up a notch and upgrade to the 6 pack. OR!!! If you feel a need to go into a sugar coma you can purchase the mother of all Cadbury Creme Eggs and haul a 12 pack out the door.
I've done really well and haven't partaken in any of this ridiculousness. It's only a matter of time though until I come skipping into my house with about twenty 12 packs.
I thought I had really good self-control...until I saw these babies...
I found these at Tesco...for £1.11...and I'm all about finding deals. So I had to buy them. I just had to...to make my husband proud. It had nothing to do with the fact they they are Cadbury Creme Eggs in the form of ice cream cones. It was all in the name of cheapness. I mean if you break it down it's like 28 pence each! BARGAIN!!
Do they even have these in the states?! And if so, have I just missed them all these years?
Since I bought them I had to taste one...just in case they were bad. I wouldn't want to feed my husband something that was not so tasty. So I did.
And this is how I felt after the experience.
It had the light, fluffy consistency that good British ice cream has with all that goo whirled into it. Sadly I couldn't really taste the goo. But that may have been a defective cone. I may need another one just to check. I would have given it two thumbs up if I could have tasted the whirly goo (and if I didn't have to use my other hand to take the picture).
All in all, I would say I would gladly pay 28p to eat another one of those...the last bite of Cadbury chocolate at the bottom of the cone is worth it.
And we all know what Easter means right?!? That's right, my friends!! CADBURY CREME EGGS!! All of that unknown goo all wrapped in delicious, silky smooth Cadbury chocolate.
One of the beauties of living in England is you can find Cadbury chocolate on every corner. It's like what Hershey's is to the US of A...only way creamier.
Over here you can buy Cadbury Creme Eggs in bulk. Yes, you heard me right all you chocolate creamy goopy fiends. You can buy them with great self-control and only get one. Or. You can step it up a notch and upgrade to the 6 pack. OR!!! If you feel a need to go into a sugar coma you can purchase the mother of all Cadbury Creme Eggs and haul a 12 pack out the door.
I've done really well and haven't partaken in any of this ridiculousness. It's only a matter of time though until I come skipping into my house with about twenty 12 packs.
I thought I had really good self-control...until I saw these babies...
I found these at Tesco...for £1.11...and I'm all about finding deals. So I had to buy them. I just had to...to make my husband proud. It had nothing to do with the fact they they are Cadbury Creme Eggs in the form of ice cream cones. It was all in the name of cheapness. I mean if you break it down it's like 28 pence each! BARGAIN!!
Do they even have these in the states?! And if so, have I just missed them all these years?
Since I bought them I had to taste one...just in case they were bad. I wouldn't want to feed my husband something that was not so tasty. So I did.
And this is how I felt after the experience.
It had the light, fluffy consistency that good British ice cream has with all that goo whirled into it. Sadly I couldn't really taste the goo. But that may have been a defective cone. I may need another one just to check. I would have given it two thumbs up if I could have tasted the whirly goo (and if I didn't have to use my other hand to take the picture).
All in all, I would say I would gladly pay 28p to eat another one of those...the last bite of Cadbury chocolate at the bottom of the cone is worth it.
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