10 Guilty Pleasures

1.  a bag of chocolates in my desk drawer (not for sharing with the kid and hubby; these are mine, ALL MINE!!!)

2.  reading a book (yes, I feel guilty about reading a book for myself when I could be reading to my child or, better yet, have HER read to ME)

3.  blogging when there are so many better things to be doing with my time

4.  telling my kid to eat an oatmeal creme pie so I can lay in bed for an extra 15 minutes before getting up to fix her breakfast on Saturday morning

5.  buying a purse when I'm supposed to be saving for a family vacation

OKAY....so my topic was "10 Guilty Pleasures", but I can only think of 5.  Instead of being the boring person I obviously am (geez, who doesn't have at least 10 things they can enjoy?) and just changing it to "5 Guilty Pleasures", I will make up the remaining 5 and make it my mission to INDULGE!!!  mwa ha ha ha

6.  fishing...alone...for an entire day

And it's at this point that I realize I really AM an incredibly boring person, because I CAN'T EVEN MAKE UP ANY MORE THAN THAT!!!!  So I'm enlisting the aid of my friend (and only blog follower), Abby

7.  buy fresh flowers for no reason

8.  pedicure

9.  get my hair done - not cut and colored, but just styled for one day (since my hair drags the floor, it will be REALLY fun to have someone else stress about how to fix it!)

10.  T.B.D.

I guess I'm not as adventurous as I once thought.  Any suggestions?

Lock Em Up and Throw Away the Key!

Conversation with my five-year-old after passing a work-release crew on the drive to daycare:


-Mom, do kids go to jail?


-Well, sometimes, if they do really bad things, they go to a special place just for kids.


-Like sometimes when I do bad things?


(chuckling at the thought of locking my kid up for not cleaning up her room)


-No, honey, you have to do REALLY bad things, like hurt someone, for a kid to go to jail.


-Like punch someone in the face?


(slightly violent thought from my baby)


-No...worse.


-Like punch someone in the face, HARD?


(time to change the subject before this conversation turns deadly!)


******


I grinned the rest of the way to drop off my sweet little girl at daycare.  To be so innocent that she thinks punching someone in the face will get her thrown in jail!  Well, to be honest, I restrained myself from asking her where she got the idea of punching someone in the face.  But then I decided to be thankful that THAT is her idea of prison-worthy violence!


I'm not naive enough to think it will stay this way forever.  I remember what school was like.  I was in the first grade when an older kid on the bus offered me drugs for the first time.  I am terrified of what next year will bring for my Angelyn.  And the year after that.  And the year after that.  And when she's a teenager?  The HORROR!


And I remember my time actually working in a daycare in a land far, far away.  The kids there had a slightly different version of what sort of behavior is acceptable.  In my brief tenure as head teacher of the school-age class during one summer, I heard such things as, "I'm going to stab you!"  "I'm going to stab your eye out!"  "I hate you and I'm going to kill you!"  And my very favorite, from a first-grader: "I will slit your throat and cut you up with a chain saw into tiny pieces."  And that last one was actually directed at me for taking away a classroom toy that the angelic-looking thing was using as a weapon against another child.  Needless to say, I promptly put in my appeal to transfer to the infants' room (I know when I am defeated)!


Imagine my delight to learn that my daughter thinks punching someone in the face will get her locked up into kiddie jail!  If that's the worst thing she has learned at school/daycare so far, THANK GOD!


So, for now, I'll keep on being that over-protective, paranoid mother who only wants her kid to watch Nick, Jr. until she's about twenty-one.  And I'll thank God that she thinks a knuckle sandwich will earn her a stint in the can.


So very blessed.

A Few of My Favorite Things

THUNDERSTORMS

Minus the heavy wind, of course.  There's nothing better than sitting at home in pajamas, wrapped in a blanket, reading a book with the sound of rain and the occasional distant thunder as background noise.  I sleep so very soundly when it rains.  Now, if only I could undo the damage my husband did when he taught my daughter to be scared of the thunder...Yes, Johnny, I blame you.  Long before she was ever scared of thunder, you convinced her (and me) that she would not get scared of thunder if she slept in bed with me during storms.  Naturally, that leads to a fear of thunder and a real good excuse to kick mommy all night!  Okay, I'll admit, I do enjoy the cuddles, especially now that my baby is about to be in the 1st grade!  I realize that these nights of holding her tight are soon to be over, and I will miss those moments when she hears a clap of thunder and comes running as fast as she can to cling to her rock.  All too soon, she'll be asking for the keys to the car so she can go hang out with her friends, and I'll be begging her to stay home because a thunderstorm is coming!  So, for now, I'll enjoy my thunderstorms.  I'll have plenty of chances to fear them later.

HEAT AND HUMIDITY

"The hotter, the better," I always say!  And everyone looks at me like I'm crazy.  See, here in Loozyanna (as they say around here), snow is a rare thing.  People look forward to the winters when the temps are usually between 40 and 60, only occasionally reaching the 30s, with a good chance (for about two weeks a year) of it falling into the 20s.  Summer lasts from May until October, after which we get about two weeks of true fall, and then it's the wet cold "winter".  Louisiana's 50 feels about like 30 in Northern Kentucky, and 20 in Northern Oklahoma.  Because of the humidity.  So even though it doesn't snow enough to stick but about once every ten years or so, winter in Louisiana is absolutely miserable.  Walking from your car to the house feels like you're trudging five miles through four-foot snow drifts.  Bone-chilling cold.  Then it takes a half hour to warm up once you're inside.  How can people enjoy the winters?  But they do.  So I say THEY are the crazy ones!  Maybe I love the summer so much, not because I enjoy sweating and struggling to catch my breath in the humidity that feels like one of those torture devices that squeeze the life out of you, but more because it is NOT winter.  I've lived in the snow and ice.  Hated it.  Drive on ice?  Insane!  Bears have the right idea.  Hole up for the winter and sleep until it's over!!  But no, kids have to go to school, and adults have to work, ALL WINTER LONG!  You can't go outside and play for more than five minutes before fingers and toes turn blue and start to fall off.  Kids have sniffly noses and sneeze giant drops of nasty liquids all over you.  Ugh!  No, thanks, I'll take my summers!  Send em outside to run around and use that energy up!  I'll take my heat and humidity over your snow and ice any day!  At least I know I live in Louisiana, and only have to deal with snow once a decade.  And here, when it DOES snow, THE ENTIRE STATE SHUTS DOWN!  Just like bears.  We all hibernate in our houses until it's over.  MY kind of place!

CHICKENS

You know I can't talk about my favorite things without listing chickens.  They make such awesome tenders!  Nuff said.

To Be Continued At A Later Date….

Ants in Your Pants!

Exhausted. Have a renewed hatred of all things crawly. BUT, I have officially rid my daughter's bed of the fire ants that attacked her! Relieved. Exhausted. Frustrated that five-year-olds don't listen when you tell them to not take candy to their room, so they sneak it in and hide the evidence under the bed. Hopeful that she learned this lesson. Exhausted and exasperated.

24 hours earlier:
Winding down for the night, just finished the last of the dinner dishes, and joined husband relaxing in the living room, daugher laying down in her bed, when the night is interrupted by a high-pitched, blood-curdling scream coming from Angelyn's room.  She comes running to me, holding her arm, tears already streaming down her cheeks.

"Mom, two ants bit me!!"  Oh, great, is that all?  My drama queen, at it again.  "Okay, show me where they are," I sighed, as I start to get up.  "Well, they're dead now."  "Okay, show me where they were."

I follow my Baby Girl into her room, turn on the light, and freak out.  Her bed is covered by what appears to me to be fifty entire colonies of ants!  The first thing that comes to mind is, "Holy cow, how did she only get bit by TWO ants?!?"  The next thing is, "What in the world am I supposed to do?"

I'm terrified of all small things that can crawl into tiny spaces.  I have a nervous habit of checking my shoes before I put them on to make sure there are no spiders lurking.  I laughingly call my husband my hero when he exterminates the occasional insect (he just doesn't realize how serious I am).  I have joked that I would rather have a snake in my house than a spider.  It's not really a joke.  I think I would.

So what do you do when you have thousands of ants in your daughter's room?  One little move, and you get attacked!  Naturally, you scream for help.

"JOHNNYYYYYY!!"

Only this is not a problem for just one person.  It's going to take a team.  My heart sinks as I realize that I'm stuck this time.  Suck it up and get moving.  Okay, here we go.

The next two hours are spent in a flurry, running from the bedroom to the front porch - shake off blankets!  Then to the washing machine - run hot water and drown the little suckers!  Back to the bedroom.  Careful, lift the stuffed animals with two fingers, inspect, and hurl them out the door into the hallway if they're clear, to the porch if they have even one ant on em!

All right, so to be honest, Johnny did most of the ant-inspections.  I was still freaking out.  But I tried to help.  I took the ant-free things to the washing machine.  Then, when Angelyn (supposedly "safe" on the living room couch) started shrieking again, I ran to her and helped her take off her pants (which had a straggler ant lurking until an opportune moment to take a chunk out of her leg), and threw her in the bathtub.  Johnny and I both reassured her that she was for sure safe in the water, so there she stayed until we finished.

Finally, with bed stripped, toys and stuffed animals cleared out, we found the reason for the invasion.  My lovely daughter, who is not allowed to bring anything but a cup of water to her room, had apparently snuck in some candy.  We found sucker sticks and Starburst wrappers under her bed, in the corner, behind her suitcase where we keep it.  Sneaky little booger knew exactly where to hide it so Mommy couldn't find it!  Sucker sticks were licked clean.  My guess is they had already gotten every last morsel off of those and went searching for more yummy food.  Found my daughter instead.  Maybe I'm just dumb, and maybe I shouldn't admit this, but I honestly never thought that fire ants ate sugar.  I thought they just ate people and animals and helped to decompose things.  I thought sugar ants ate sugar.  Learn something new every day.  I was really surprised to find fire ants in my kid's bed!

Found some ant baits in the cabinet and put one out under her bed.  Within minutes, they had located their new picnic and was taking it home to share the love.  Nice of them!  So, Johnny and I shut the door to Angelyn's room (like that will keep them from spreading around the house!) and told her they wouldn't escape.  She climbed into bed with me, and drifted off to sleep.  Her mommy was not so lucky.  Every time I closed my eyes, I had visions of creepy crawly insects climbing all over my daughter in her sleep.  Gave me the heeby-jeebies.

Next morning, I called in to work, took Angelyn to daycare, and went straight to the store for fire ant killer, and back home to tackle the Last of the Fire Ants.  By now the bait had done its job.  There were only a few last little stubborn things left.  The rest had disappeared, thank GOD!  I left the insecticide alone for the moment and grabbed a spray bottle with soapy water.  It seems ants can't survive long if you spray them with soapy water.  Glorious Revelation!  Harmless to Angelyn, Deadly to Ants!  I sprayed and sprayed for the longest time, until convinced that they were dead, then vacuumed (moving every single piece of furniture in her room), and then sprayed the insecticide along the wall where the ants were coming in.  Doused em good!

I rested well last night.  I believe my three-front line of attack will succeed in making my baby safe.  Of course, she slept in the bed with me last night, just to be sure (more for my peace of mind than hers).  This morning, I found two little scout ants, moving VERY slowly.  I'm sure they wouldn't have lasted long enough to make it back to the colony for their report, but to make certain, I drowned them in the soapy water and watched them shrivel up and die.  Must be a horrible death, but I don't feel guilty.  That's what happens when you mess with MY baby!

So, if you run across a colony of fire ants:
1) put out ant bait, wait 12 hours;
2) douse the remaining stragglers with soapy water; and
3) spray fire ant killer around the perimeter to keep them out!
4) PRAY!

My Dream Home

My Dream Home

When I strike it rich, I will build the most unusual, awesome home campus ever.  This is how it goes:

My home campus will be on a small plot of land similar in size to Rhode Island.  Or at least no less than 25 acres.  In the woods, winding little path to get to the home campus.  Large, mature oak trees with branches overhanging the path (and I will have them brought in if there aren't any on the land I choose).

I say home campus, because it will not be one large mansion.  I will have a cluster of buildings.  My own home will be in front.  It will look very much like an old Louisiana plantation house.  White, three stories or more, wraparound porch on each floor, white rocking chairs lining each porch, French doors from every room to the porches, 15-foot ceilings in every room, with floor-to-ceiling windows.  My living room will include a stage for the Jazz band that will perform when we have guests over for dinner.  I will have a gourmet kitchen with a walk-in pantry big enough to park an RV in it.  Restaurant-grade walk-in refrigerator and freezer.  Fully stocked by my assistant.  I would never go grocery shopping again.

And a glass-enclosed walkway connecting each of the other buildings, which will be arranged in sort of a circular pattern, with a large swimming pool in the center.  There will be a rock slide from the balcony on the middle floor of each building, spiraling down into the swimming pool.

The building to the left of mine will be the guest house.  I'll let my mother design that one.

On the other side of that will be the pool house, complete with showers, floor-length mirrors, changing stations, toilets, etc.

The building to the right of mine will be my daughter's.  It will be a giant dollhouse, and she will get to decorate that one.

Next to hers will be the mini zoo.  Angelyn loves animals, and I think she should have cats and dogs and monkeys and ponies and whatever she wants, as long as they stay in their home.  Maybe a giant aquarium, big enough for dolphins.

Somewhere between the guesthouse and the mini zoo will be Johnny's Man Cave.  He will have his own dwelling, not because I want to get rid of him (any more - just kidding, Hubby), but because I think he would love it.  He could have his music/movies up as loud as he wants, and we would both be perfectly happy.  Of course, there would be a skywalk from the top floor of my house into the top floor of his.  His place would look more like a skyscraper, I think.  Tall and skinny, so you cross from my house into the tower, and take the elevator down below ground (or you can stop at the 2nd floor for the water slide).  No natural lighting in his place.  Think dungeon.  Cold, dark, just the way he likes it.  Deep underground you would find a theater with concession stand (proceeds would benefit the Saints), sports room with batting cages, basketball courts, etc., library for his movie collection, and a room just for sports memorabilia.

We would have an assistant assigned each building on campus, hired to do whatever needs to be done - cook if we're hungry, clean if we're not, run errands, scratch Angelyn's back, catch the baseball for Johnny, be a tour guide for guests, etc..  Maybe a chauffer or a helicopter pad so I could take little, quick trips into town.

A river running through the property and into the Red River will be nice.  Have a houseboat on it, and we can just take off whenever we feel like it.

Well, I could scale down, in case my fortune isn't large enough to handle the expense of such a massive campus.  I could consolidate the guest house and Angelyn's dollhouse into mine, and just give them each a wing.  Or a floor.  Or a room.  My house could be a bit smaller, with normal-sized ceilings and such.  And we could lose the skywalk, the zoo, and the river.  And Johnny's place could just be a normal structure instead of an excavation project.  He doesn't have to have his own batting cages, and we could skip the concessions.  Just a theater room with a trophy case for his memorabilia and a bed will do, but I do want to keep him in his own place.  We have a conflict with noise levels.  We don't have to have four rock slides going into the pool, but one would be fun.  I would like a little pool house with outside restroom facilities for swimmers, but that's not really necessary, either.

But then again, since I'm the one doing the dreaming, I can set the limits on my own fortune, and I say I CAN HAVE IT ALL!!!

The Life Cycle of a Christian

"Babes in Christ".

I've heard that once or twice in my lifetime.  It refers to someone who is new to the whole "Christianity" thing.  Someone who is just beginning to learn about God, the Bible, the religion they chose to start following, etc.  I was listening to a friend talk about her sister, and she used the term "Baby Christian."  Well, being the Nila I am, I opened my mouth and said the first thing that came to my head, without thinking it over.

"I'm a Mid-Life-Crisis Christian."

And so inspires this blog.

It's not entirely true.  I think I'm actually coming out of my Mid-Life-Crisis Christian stage.  I'd say two years ago, I was in full-on Crisis Mode!  I'll explain in a minute, but first, a brief synopsis of my version of a Christian's Life Cycle.  Keep in mind, these cycles have no time or age limit.  I know people of all ages at all stages.  Some seem to skip through stages quickly, others linger for decades in before moving on.

BABIES
These are the ones who, as mentioned above, are brand-new to Christianity.  For whatever reason, they are just beginning to study a religion, and they just don't know a whole lot about it.  You can't start teaching a new convert out of the Book of Revelation - that's meat and potatoes stuff.  You gotta start with the basics:  who God is, what it takes to get to Heaven, simple topics like these.

TODDLERS
Eventually, the Babies will start to grow, and, chances are, may take a tumble now and then.  Hopefully, they won't lie there and throw a fit, asking why God didn't keep them from falling, but they'll pick themselves up and keep trying.  They're getting into a little more detailed things now - the guidelines/standards of the religion, how to pray about something/someone without ASKING for something, diving into the Bible stories with a little more depth, and so on.

TEENS
Zest for life.  Maybe a little rebellious at times, but they have the basics down and can get back to what's important when they have to.  Of course, they think they know everything, and everyone else is just plain dumb.  Competitive, Impulsive, and an interesting mixture of Courage and Fear.  Peer pressure gets to them sometimes.

ADULTS, Part I
Very sure of themselves and their walk with God.  Quite comfortable going in-depth with any story, parable, or lesson in the Bible.  Prayer life is consistent, unselfish.  They know that, if they don't have the answer, they can always ask for directions.  And they have figured out by now the right person to ask.  Confident.  At peace.  Perhaps not as energetic as in the previous stages.

MID-LIFE CRISIS ADULTS
Hit a brick wall.  They know right from wrong, but maybe they just miss part of their old life, or fear there is something out there that just might be more fun.  Decide the responsibility can be put on hold for a second, but they'll come back to it later.  Perhaps stray a bit from the ways of God or the standards of their religion.  In Denial.

ADULTS, Part II
These are the ones who have figured out, once and for all, that they want to stay on the path that leads to Everlasting Life.  They've figured out that having a Mid-Life-Crisis is childish and just costs too much.  They've learned enough by now to know how to get back on track.

OLDIES BUT GOODIES
Stable, Settled, Grounded.  Like a palm tree in heavy winds, their roots go deep enough that a little wind and rain may cause them to bend, but they won't be going anywhere.  Know how to bow to God when the storm comes, so they don't break under the pressure.  These are the ones all others look to for advice, wisdom, direction.

All right, so, how did I come to be in a Mid-Life-Crisis before the age of 30?  Well, having been born and raised in Pentecostal churches, and having the wonderful, responsible OLDIES-staged parents I have, I was at church every time the doors were open (minimum of four services a week, actually).  I ate, breathed, and slept Church, so I think my BABIES and TODDLERS stages were over pretty much before I could remember.  I hit the TEENAGERS stage fairly early and think I stayed there until I was about 20, at which time I decided to get involved.  So I joined prayer groups, youth drama team, choir, and all sorts of other church-related ministries, loving every minute of it and soaking it up.

My crisis came about as a result of my favorite prayer group sort of splitting off and leaving our church.  Not sure why, don't really care, and definitely don't want to know why.  But it crushed me.  My mentors actually turned their backs on my church, my home.  I went through a period of time where I wondered if my church really WAS the way to go.  Maybe I was just in it because I always had been, because my parents always had been.  Could it be just a three-generation-mistake?  It hurt, going to church and not seeing my OLDIES there.  I had a young child.  Was this really the way I wanted to raise her?

I started questioning everything I ever believe in.  Even started feeling the old Depression Demon coming over me.

So, unsure of myself or foundation, I spent a year or two undecided about my life.  I started missing services here and there, un-involving myself, sitting in the back, and doing what I could to become invisible at church and, maybe, in God's eyes.

Then it just sort of hit me.  Why am I letting other people's decisions determine how my life plays out?  This is MY life, MY choice!  I've seen enough miracles, and had enough prayers answered to KNOW beyond the shadow of a doubt, that this is the right thing for me.  It may not be for everyone, and I certainly don't believe that only Pentecostals will be in Heaven, or even that all Pentecostals will be.  I have done enough studies to know the differences in most major Christian religions, and to know that, while mine is flawed (run by humans, right?), my church IS the place for ME and for my family.

As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.

Crisis averted.

Crazy People

Have you ever thought about the types of characters that make up the many books of the Bible?  I mean REALLY thought about them?  How very crazy most of them were!  Not some fairtyale kings and princes, perfectly beautiful and boring, oh no.  These people were murderes, alduterers, liars, drunkards, and the like.  And they were fantastic musicians, inspiring poets, brave warriors, invisionaries, explorers, and so much more!



In other words, they were just like me.  We all have a little good and a little bad in us.  No, we may not all kill our next-door-neighbor just because we can, we might not build Solomon's Temple, defeat armies, or get drunk and sleep with our own child.  Yeah, I think I remember reading something about that.



But we do occasionally tell a "little white lie" (telling our children to stop acting like that our we'll never bring them to Chuck E. Cheese again, knowing full well we'll be right back there again for the next friend's birthday party), sometimes our looks can kill, and our thoughts, even our words (and the Bible does say "as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he"), we can build a pretty awesome fort out of bedsheets, and we fight our own battles every day, sometimes winning, sometimes losing (I fight the urge to pull over at every Chick-fil-A or McDonald's I see).



So what makes these guys so special that we're still talking about them thousands of years later?  I mean, besides the fact that they had the Almighty God on their side, which is pretty awesome.  But there are wonderful men and women today who have that same God.  So why are these Bible Characters so intriguing that we study them over and over and over again?  I think it's just the fact that they did something, and it changed someone else's life, just enough that that person decided to retell the story.  I think it's the fact that these crazy people were CRAZY PEOPLE, and we can all relate to them in some way.  I find Old Testament Bible stories incredibly interesting.  I mean, look at Jonah.  GOD told him to go preach, but Jonah didn't like the town God sent him to, so he pouted and ran.  GOD prepared a fish to swallow him up just before he could drown, kept him safe until the storm passed, and then spit him out in just exactly the right place.  Jonah finally does what God told him to do, God saves the people, and Jonah throws a hissy fit.  Plops his behind down on the ground, refusing to move, and says just leave me alone and let me die.



Who can't relate to that?  Don't we all expect things to work out just exactly the way we want it to?  And then, when it doesn't, don't we whine or cry to someone?  My way or the highway, Buster.  Not gonna do it my way?  Fine, then, I'm not gonna do it YOUR way, either, so we just won't do anything.  Hmph!



What about Moses?  He takes the people out of Egypt (remember all of the miracles and signs it took to get them that far?  Plagues?  Crossing the Red Sea?), and God tells him to strike a rock for water.  Awesome!  It worked!  Next time, God says speak to the rock.  But, wait, Moses hits the stupid rock again.  You faithless idiot!  Don't you know by now that God is one powerful dude!  Why do you have to go and do your own thing, just because you've always done it like that?  It wasn't you striking the rock that brought the water, it was your obedience.  Think about it!



Okay, maybe it's not nice of me to call Moses an idiot.  He did some pretty amazing things, after all.  But that just goes to show you.  These people were people, and we love them.  Good qualities, Bad traits, Ugly attitudes.  Awesome how God could use PEOPLE like me.  Cause everyone knows I'm crazy.  Procrastinating, French-Fry-Loving, Stick-Your-Foot-In-Your-Mouth Nila.  So how can I change someone else's life?



Not sure, myself, but I'll start by retelling some stories that changed mine.

The Story of Queen Author

I started writing a novel.  I researched the best way to outline, found a fantastic site about a Snowflake method, and began my journey.  Studied my characters, made my timeline, spent hours pouring over my first sentence, and finally had the bare bones of the structure of what was to be The Greatest Novel on Earth.

And then I quit.  Who would read this?  My mom and dad, my grandparents, possibly my husband, and my daughter, when she asks for a bedtime story, would hear it, one chapter at a time.  Beyond that?  Anyone unlucky enough to be bored stiff and within arm's reach where I could tie them to the nearest chair and shove it in their face, forcing them to read word for word.  And that's it.  I'm not all that entertaining as a novelist.  I know what I enjoy reading, and I can put a sentence together, but putting a sentence together that I would enjoy reading?  Not so easy, as it turns out.

Naturally for me, at the first sign of a bump in the road, I toss my book aside and move on to the next thing.  I tend to do that - start a project, spend some time on it, and NEVER FINISH IT!  Not my most honorable personality trait, but there it is.  So goes the story - scrapbooking?  Scrapped.  Fishing?  Abandoned.  Clarinet?  Ignored.  Working out?  HA!

So, at a request from a close friend, I turned to her blog, read it, and decided that, since I'm already signed up, I might as well create my own blog.  Here I am.  I'm sure this is just another one of those soon-to-be-forgotten things, but for the time being, I'll blog.  And, with the hope that this will be my motivation to finish something for once in my life, I will put it out there for the world to see:

I will write this book if it kills me!  And it will be amazing, even if only to my incredibly biased, precious family.  So get ready, world, I'm going on an adventure!