And the Lord spake unto me...

As a result of cough medicine induced napping all day yesterday, Rory hardly slept last night.  I should have seen that as the harbinger of doom that it was.  This morning was horrible.  All moms have these mornings, when your hair looks like crap, your make-up isn't working, and EVERYTHING you put on makes you look like an obese baglady.  As if those things weren't frustrating enough, the baby is screaming inconsolably, AC is being a naggy whiner and I'm tripping over her every time I turn around.  We SHOULD have made it to early service this morning, but with all the crap that was going on, we barely made it to second service.  It was all I could do to smile and nod while weaving through the crowd lugging Rory's carseat while trying not to yell at AC while she meandered slowly behind me.  Until now, I have never left Rory in the nursery on Sunday mornings, but this morning, Mommy needed some Jesus.  Fo' reals, I needed to go and BE in church, no baby, no cell phone, nothing, just me and Jesus because despite all my desperate and fleeting prayers this morning, things weren't changing, least of all my attitude.  I know it would be a horrible screamy day if SOMETHING didn't change.

I don't take notes, I doodle
during church...

I have to admit, I was expecting some huge emotional "touch from the Lord" during worship that would magically transform my day and attitude...it didn't come.  Nor was the message one of those spoken-directly-to-me epiphanies.  However, while sitting at the little cafe table during the middle of service, the Lord spoke to me; I had my own little supernatural revelation.  God said the following:  "Turning to Me on a bad day isn't about Me rewarding you by changing the course of your day, it's about you becoming Mine and finding your joy in My eyes because when you're gazing into My face, nothing else matters."

This may not be all that new to anyone else, but, like I said before, it was a revelation to me.  I feel like I've learned what "praise You in this storm" really means in practice.  Thank God I learned that lesson on a small scale.  A bad day isn't that big of a storm, but when the bigger ones come, I can come back to today's blog and remind myself how to praise Him through it.

Until Then,

AC 'n' Rory's Mom

Oprah Started It: The Final Chapter

If you're just joining us, I'm answering the last of Oprah's dinner party questions. Don't ask, I have time on my hands...

• What is the kindest thing anyone has done for you?

Give birth.  No, seriously...

• How do you want to be remembered?

Fondly.  I want my kids to be proud of me and the life I lived.

• What would you do with a million dollars?

If I had a million dollars...  Was anyone else singing that line?  No, just me?  Oh...

I'd do a lot of responsible stuff like paying off debt, buying a house, building up savings and our IRAs, and setting up college and wedding funds for the girls.  I'd probably do a few fun and crazy things like getting the girls castle beds, buying Clayton a Skyline, and taking myself on a fabulous trip to Scotland after I recovered from corrective breast surgery.  (Let's face it, no one likes the post-natal wind-sock boob look.)

What I want to know is, why is Oprah asking this question?  Research?  Does she have so much money she has to see what OTHER people would do with it in order to garner ideas??  If I have the best answer will she GIVE me a million dollars??  No?  Damn...

• If you were on an island, who would you want to be with? Why?

I'd want to be on an island with someone who could get me off the damn island.  Seriously, though, I need more information than that.  Is it a fabulous resort island?  A deserted island?  Gilligan's Island??  An I stranded or am I on vacation?  I think by the time we established the parameters of this fictitious scenario, the asker wouldn't give a crap WHAT my answer is.

• You have a 10 minute speech to give at a high school, what is it about?

Again...is Oprah looking for ideas?  I already WENT to high school.  I don't want to go back.  By the way, I did give a 10 minute speech in high school.  It was about abstinence...yeah, I was super-popular...

Until Then,

AC 'n' Rory's Mom

I feel like Jimmie Ray.

I'm having a hard time coming up with something to say.  I've heard a lot of feedback as of late and all of it good.  I think it's given me a complex...  Not that it isn't appreciated, it is, however, I now feel pressure to perform.  That being said, this is the shortest post ever.

Until Then,

AC 'n' Rory's Mom

I will enter His gates with shoulder pads.

When we left you last, Amanda and her children were in the clutches of a waterless nightmare...

Water returned late Thursday to an eruption of cheers so zealous that Rory freaked out and started crying.  Having become a stinking (literally) shut-in during what I now refer to as my "waterless period", I didn't realize until two days after that I had missed my "yearly" appointment.  I can't say that I'm too upset about that and, honestly, the doctor's office should be writing me a note of thanks for not showing up 36-hrs-unwashed-and-counting.  Things are running somewhat smoothly again with the exception of the laundry.  I haven't caught up yet.

At Bible study this morning, it was presented to us that we probably have much more scripture memorized than we realize as a result of praise and worship music.  Attempting to see how much I know (and aside from songs, I'm ashamed to say it's not much), I started singing the first song that popped into my head while doing the dishes.  Would you believe it was "War in the Heavenlies"??  For real, when was the last time I heard THAT song?  1988??  Humming about "casting down every high thing" sent me into a tailspin of memories.  For those of you who grew up in any sort of spirit-filled church, these things might bring back some memories of their own:

• Tambourines.  Yep, you know what I'm talking about.  Multicolored tambourines of all sizes embellished with a cascade of ribbons in rainbow hues to be shaken and twirled about for the glory of the Lord by all able-bodied female members of the church.  I wanted one so badly as a child, however seeing as clapping to the beat required watching other people, there was no way my family was going to give me a loud obnoxious rhythm instrument thus making it obvious to the entire congregation that their child is severely rhythmically challenged.  Alas, they were out of fashion when I finally learned to keep rhythm, so, if you catch me slapping my thigh and waving my shaking fist in the air during worship some Sunday, just know that in my mind I'm living out my tambourine dreams...
• Interpretive dances.  Be it a group of enthusiastic, yet marginally talented, people clad in white with gold braided headbands or a solitary woman in a purple jumpsuit brandishing a ribbon on a stick, these were the highlights of my childhood church-going years.  Oh, how I longed to twirl about the stage pantomiming the lyrics of an Amy Grant song to a chorus of whispered "Hallelujah"s and "Praise the Lord"s.  However, once I was old enough, there was no way in H-E-double hockey sticks you were going to catch me doing ANYTHING that required me making a spectacle of myself...  As far as interpretive dances go, I think it would be fun to create a satirical dance, perform it for the congregation, and see who gets it.
• Petra.  Heck yes.  They rocked my house...literally, my mom would play the Petra tapes at home AND in the car.  Did you know that, according to family lore, the lead singer of Petra, John Schlitt, was baptised in my grandparents swimming pool?  No freakin' joke, dude.  There is no facetious mockery here.  I dare you to find a better vintage worship album than Petra Praise.  That rock cried out.  (Pun totally intended)
• The special song.  Now, there are still churches today that hold tight to this tradition and, depending on the level of talent, I find it to be a good litmus test as to whether I stick around or I non-chalantly head for the bathroom with my coat in tow never to return.  If you've grown up in church, at some point in time you've been forced to endure a terrible soloist while passing the offering plate.  Not to knock these eager-beavers, but if Sister BadPerm or Brother Mustache can't carry a tune, it might be a good idea to redirect their enthusiasm, leadership.  We can always use more greeters.

Although I would like to go on, I simply can't, so, I'll leave you with this:

RUSS TAFF NO MEDALS ROCKED...I'm SO going to buy that on iTunes...

Until Then,

AC 'n' Rory's Mom

We're having a dry run

I awoke this morning to a toilet that wouldn't flush due to a tank that wasn't full.  Upon further inspection (i.e. some panicked faucet handle jiggling), nothing else would fill either.  MY PIPES ARE FROZEN.  Fabulous.  No water...at all.  And the first thing on AC's agenda?  A nice big bowel movement.  No joke.

After a few messages to my landlady, a call in to my father-in-law, and conferring with my dad, I suited up and headed out to the backyard armed with my hairdryer and a firm determination to end this predicament. As luck would have it, my extension cord wasn't long enough.  When my father-in-law showed up with a longer cord and a few 5 gallon jugs of water, he informed me that the fact that my extension cord wasn't long enough was fortuitous indeed...I was intending to thaw the gas line.  Mmm-hmmm.

Discussions with my landlady and a few local plumbers led me to my final conclusion: I'm screwed...at least until the ground thaws.

Witticism Welcome

I can't be held responsible for the
wallpaper, I rent.

IT'S FREEZING!  No joke, SO cold.  The schools in town weren't closed, but I decided AC didn't need to go to school today...and it may or may not have had anything to do with the fact that I was warm and snuggly in bed when the alarm went off.

What better day to begin the Superfluous Meanderings photo caption contest?  Here's how it works, you leave your caption(s) as a comment and I'll choose a winner.  What fabulous prize do you win?  Uh, well, nothing.  I'll post the picture with the winning contributor's name and caption on Facebook (and, if I can figure it out, Twitter).  And here, folks, is the first one:

Yup, that's pregnant me eating a donut and vacuuming under my sleeping husband's feet...

Until Then,

AC 'n' Rory's Mom

Feel free to submit a photo for a future caption contest by uploading your photo to my Facebook wall.  Any photo will be considered, new, old, of kids, animals, just as long as it is your photo and not one that has a copyright, registered image, or one off the internet.