Pop-Music Psychology

Listening to music isn't nearly as fun if you can't sing along. Singing along means listening to the words, but this is often difficult when the only radio you hear is while riding in a van with three kids strapped in behind you.

But today, I decided I was just going to pay attention. I cranked up the radio to drown out the sound of the kids. Okay, I was really completely ignoring them, but that's a different story altogether.

Two songs came on that I have "heard" before, but never really paid much attention to.

The first was "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" by Elton John.

I guess he wasn't too enamored with the high life. And by "he" I mean the guy in the song, not, like the actual Sir himself. Because if it was actually HIM, then I'd be confused.

The other song was "Back at One" by Brian McKnight. Here is the refrain:

One, you're like a dream come true
Two, just wanna be with you
Three, girl it's plain to see
That you're the only one for me and
Four, repeat steps one through three
Five, make you fall in love with me

If ever I believe my work is done
Then I'll start back at one

Upon figuring out exactly what he was saying, my initial thought was: "HUH?" Because, buddy, how exactly do you repeat a step that is "you're like a dream come true." You didn't actuallly DO anything, how can you REPEAT it? Or is this, like, something you are just going to say to the woman, over and over and over? If that's the case, then uh, that's stupid. You're gonna end up sounding like a robot, and if she doesn't run away from you screaming because she can't possibly listen to you spouting off another round of steps one through three, then she is going to leave because you haven't actually done anything like, have a real conversation with her, or try to get to know her, or, I DON'T KNOW - display your faithfulness maybe?

So, basically, I take issue with your step five.

But that's just me.

Regardless, I like the song. It makes me grateful that my husband never subscribed to your method for making a woman fall in love with him.

Sing on, dude.

90 Day Reading Reflections

The 90 Day Bible reading has been going well for me. I am reading a ton of Scripture and I'm enjoying it. As I read, I have found that I have so many questions. It troubles me because it seems to imply that there is so much of God that I do not understand. I am struck with how little I "get" him, and it sorta makes wonder, because I thought I knew him better.

All of this has brought to mind an experience from my college days which seems to illustrate my thoughts well. Allow me to explain.

In the spring of 1995, the majority of my time was devoted to my student teaching at Springfield North High School. What little time was left after school and lesson planning was divided up between sleeping, eating, and sending out resumes. Not too many interviews actually happened, which is okay, I guess, since I didn't really have a lot of time for them. But when the opportunity to interview presented itself, I always took it given the fact that I wanted to, you know, work after I graduated. It didn't really matter too much whether the school was one I wanted to work at. There just weren't a lot of jobs to choose from.

I found myself leaving my students early one day so that I could make it to an interview at the local Catholic high school. Was it my dream job? No. But it was a job. It was also my first interview aside from the recruiters who came to campus from districts around Ohio.

I've never liked interviewing, and I think I have realized, looking back, that I wasn't very good at it either. (Which one caused the other, I don't know.) This particular interview was being conducted by the principal of the high school, a friendly priest. He'd asked his assitant prinicpal to join him; a nun whom I remember to be sort of gruff.

I have absolutely no recollection of what we discussed in that interview - except for the one question that the nun asked me. She said, "if you were going to conduct a lesson on Atomic Theory, how would you go about it?"

My immediate thought was, this question is totally unfair. I don't know if that's true, but that's how it seemed to me. I'd spend HOURS every day planning lessons for my student teaching. A lesson plan to me meant: what kind of strategies will I use to teach for understanding, how will I evaluate, what teaching method is best suited for different learners, how will I connect this to real life... How could I possibly come up with a lesson plan capable of impressing someone enough to want to hire me, on the fly?

Besides that, I was a SENIOR chemistry major. Had she asked me to explain the intricacies of gas chromatography, I would have been very comfortable. But she asked me about something I'd covered more than three years earlier in a small section of a single chapter, when I was a freshman in general chemistry. It was a standard topic for a high school student, but I'd have to reach waaaaaaaaay back for this one.

I paused. And this is what went through my head...

Who was the Atomic Theory guy? Dalton? I think that was his name. What was his first name? Charles? Okay, if you aren't sure, don't say the first name, just say "Dalton." Ha, Ha. Like this matters anyway. She's asking about Atomic Theory because it is the only important sounding term she can think of. Everybody who had high school chemistry remembers there was this thing called "Atomic Theory," but she doesn't have any clue. Alright, so, don't make stuff up, but whatever you do, sound confident.

I spewed out something about Dalton, speaking his name confidently, even though I was unsure at that point if even THAT was the right name. I wanted to talk specifics, but I just couldn't create a lesson that fast in my head. I don't remember exactly what I said, but I remember thinking that, while the answer didn't satisfy ME, it probably sounded just fine to someone who certainly wouldn't have known any better.

After the interview, I toured the school with the friendly priest. Just the two of us. He showed me the lab. Us science teachery folk get real excited about nice labs. You sorta start picturing yourself doing demos and labs and such and it gets you a bit dreamy. It was a nice lab, so I started to get excited.

Then friendly priest said of the papers piled in the room, "These belong to (gruff nun.) She has been teaching chemistry here for many years, but will be devoting herself full-time to the assistant principal role. You will be replacing her."

I looked at friendly priest man, and said something very clever like "Oh, that's great," which was code for "no. No I won't be replacing her. Because when you go back to your office, she will be waiting for you, and you don't know this yet, but she is going to tell you that I am totally clueless about even the most elementary of concepts from high school chemistry."

The next day, I told my two co-operating teachers at North High School about the incomplete, and utterly lame answer I'd given to the atomic theory question. They assured me that it wasn't that bad. But I knew better.... and the friendly priest did not call to offer me the job.

What does all this have to do with reading the Bible?

In a lot of ways, this 90 Day reading experience has been just like that interview all over again. I know there are things I know about Scripture, and I know there are things that I don't know. By reading the Bible at this pace, one thing I have come to realize is that I take what I do know for granted - as if it makes up for what I don't know. In the mean time, I sort of just gloss over the stuff I don't understand. Maybe I've just been thinking "After all, who is going to know the difference?"

The answer, as it turns out, is that God knows the difference. Though he is nothing like a gruff nun to me, he is certainly aware of where my understanding is faulty, and he is aware that most of the time I don't even realize it. I just slide on by, forgetting, I guess, that he knows.

Yet, he knows. And what he has shown me in just the first seven books of the Bible is that my understanding of him is at best incomplete, and at worst utterly lame. He's gracious to me, no doubt. He does not scorn. I don't feel, as was the case with the interview, like running away and hiding. Rather, by his grace, I am sure, it makes me want to pursue him more. It makes me want to seek him out, sit at his feet, and let him teach me. It makes me want to stop using what I do know as a crutch for not understanding more. The harder stuff - the "huh? what is THAT about, God?" stuff; the stuff that doesn't have a simple answer.

I guess I have realized that, when there is something of God that I don't understand, I have been coming up with lame answers and assuming he doesn't know any better. This study has really brought that to light because I am seeing, over and over, how God doesn't always fit into my understanding of him.

All in all, I have been shown that I have treated God a lot like I did that nun... the way I laughed her off in an effort to comfort myself into believing that my knowledge was good enough the way it was. Dangerous thinking, even when it's just a nun who knows her chemistry.

But when it's God? I'm completely humbled.

Lord,

I confess my self-righteous attitude toward you. I confess that I have taken you for granted and that, in my meager understanding of you, I have made much less of you than who you really are. Please forgive me for this. And forgive me for acting like you'd never know any better.

You don't fit the mold I've made for you, and you aren't supposed to. Please remind me of this, and give me wisdom and understanding. Enlarge my thoughts of you, my understanding of you, my love for you, and my reverence for you.

Please show me who you are in all of your godness. Please remind me that fooling myself about who you are will never be good for me, and it will prevent me from knowing you for who you really are. Don't ever let me try to make you fit my mold again. Though I may act like that's what I want, it's not truly the desire of my heart.

Whatever it means for you to be God, please be that to me. Even if I don't undestand it, help me to accept it and to turn to you for the wisdom to understand. Yes, please be God to me - not the one I make up, not the one I am vaguely familiar with, but The Real One, whoever that ends up being.

The Search is Over

My little corner of the blogosphere, this here Rattling Around, seems to be showing up on search results all around cyberspace. Here are some of the searches for which my blog was included in the results... and my mixed reactions to them:

To the person who was searching with the phrase "child hunger and salvery," I would probably make fun of you... except that I wouldn't have made it into your search results had I not misspelled that word myself. Siiiigh... Apart from that misspelling, however, I can assure you I never would have shown up in your results at all. Children living under my roof, on average, eat something every 7.2 seconds. You won't find the words "child" and "hunger" in the same sentence over here. (Unless you count that last one, in which case I am sorry to everyone else who is searching for information about "child hunger" and came up with a link to my blog-o-drivel.)

Whoever is out there searching for "accepted into harvard" I'll save you a little time and just tell you straight up: Not only was I not accepted to Harvard, but I also cannot spell. I'm thinking this blog isn't for you.

And if you were searching the phrase "women should not go to college," then I don't think this blog is for you either. I did.

To the dear one who typed in "550 failed to change directory open office," I say THANK YOU. It comforts me greatly to know that I am not alone.

And please, oh PLEASE don't come over here if you are concerned about "rattle sound in bathroom when I use water." For the love of all that is good and right, DO NOT come here for home improvement advice.

Where are you, oh seeker of "french crullers dunkin donut recipe"? We must meet. I am certain we are kindred spirits.

And to "scrapbooking self control a fruit of the Spirit," I have just one thing to say: you KNOW Mary would have been a scrapbooker if she could have, what with how she always treasured up all those things in her heart and all. Imagine what she could have done with a few embellishments.

To the person who searched for "cough was so" I have to say: I hear you, man. I hear you.

Finally, to the person who wants to "understand men's minds," let me share with you this certainty: if I could do that, I'd have a much, MUCH larger readership.

Best wishes to all of you in your quest for knowledge. Please do not hesitate to call on me again if you need further assistance.

I Couldn't Make this Stuff up if I Tried

Remember the curtains? No, not the movie with Denzel Washington. THE Curtains. These curtains. Remember them? Right.

Ms. Boo remembers them too. You know how I know this? Because last night, on a family outing to the Home Depot to pick out some new interior doors, Boo asked, "Are we going to have no doors for a few days?"

Oh, yes. She remembers. She has witnessed the home improvement process at our house. It's. Not. Pretty.

Case in point. It took us about 45 minutes to install a new toilet seat earlier this week. A toilet seat. 45 minutes.

No. I am not kidding.

So we went over to the HD, and discussed all things door with the very helpful Jeff, HD employee and door expert. He puts the door in hunky doory. (I had to. I just had to.)

After about 45 minutes worth of questions patiently answered by Jeff, we made our way to the registers, and loaded the van with our two, brand new ceiling fans.

Doors might not be the thing for us right now. But, with all the money we've got to burn, we just HAD to buy something. Lucky, lucky ceiling fans.

Paul came home this afternoon to a wife still in her pajamas. And a living room strewn with all manner of toys and an entire container of neon-colored hair elastics. The family room - not much better. I wanted to tell him that I cleaned all day. I really did. But the microwave is the only thing I have to show for it (what can I say, I had a lemon I needed to use) so I didn't even bother trying to convince him.

Don't think I am going off on a tangent here. When it comes to home improvements, nothing is tangential at this house. I just wanted you to know that I was SO into cleaning mode that I not only stayed in my PJs all day, but I also HAND WASHED a bunch of dishes.

I'm convinced that today's planetary alignment must have been extremely rare.

Which is only appropriate for home improvement day.

So, when Paul came home andseemed eager to get on with the ceiling fan installment, I stayed put. The curtains and the toilet seat were all of my doing, so I figured I'd lay low.

Paul had the electrical stuff pretty well in hand until he realized that there were four wires coming out of our ceiling where the old fan was. This is not such a big deal except that the installation booklet only mentions three.

He made a few phone calls (because, who STAYS HOME on a Friday night) and he finally found a friend who explained that the wiring was for separate switches on the light and the fan.

Paul returned to the task.

But, as it turns out, it's kinda difficult to install ceiling fans alone. And in the dark. So there was a whole lot of flashlight holding, screwdriver handing, motor supporting, and kid anesthetizing that had to be done. So, jump in I did.

Oh, for the love of all things sacred.

We got a bunch of things hooked up and what not. Unscrewed a previously screwed on component so as to shove the wires back into the ceiling. Answered a few questions for Lainee about the location of our attic. There was an extra screw that we couldn't figure out what to do with. Somewhere along the way we got all the wirey stuff covered up. We had just attached all the blades to the fan.

Then, we spun the blades. The sound that emerged was the sound of something rubbing against another something deep within the now screwed down and bolted shut interior of the fan. And I just looked at Paul - this sweet man who tries to please me by installing things like ceiling fans.

And I said to him: What do we do now? He sorta shrugged. And then I looked at him. T hen I said: What was that?

Have I ever mentioned that we have three kids?

And that I was doing housework all day?

Handwashing dishes.

That dish water? That DIRTY dishwater that was in the sink? I HEARD it DOING something.

And when I arrived breathless in the kitchen, I found that what it was doing was loading itself into cups so graciously held by Ms. Bao and Mr. Bug, and dumping itself all over the kitchen floor.

They thought this was HI. LAR. I. OUS.

Me?

Not so much.

I seethed some lovely sentiments, particularly to the beloved Ms. Bao, who had done this same thing TWICE earlier in the day with water from the toilet. But she was covered in dishwater, so I had to put her in the tub.

While in the bathroom, I asked the naked Bao to put her clothes in the dirty clothes bin located two steps outside of the bathroom door. While I tended to Mr. Bug, Ms. Bao walked the two steps outside the bathroom, passed the laundry bin, the washer, the dryer, the pantry cabinet, and the kitchen table.

And I was oblivious to it all until I heard her smack the kitchen floor. The same floor that was covered in water that I had yet to mop up.

I found her flailing around in the huge puddle. I grabbed her up and put her and Bug in the bathtub.

During that time that I was patiently tending to my precious cherubs, Paul managed to fix that little problem of rubbing somethings within the fan (see? better if I JUST STAY AWAY...)

Meanwhile:
- kids in tub
- me not tending them (Mother of the year) so that I can mop up the kitchen floor (because I apparently didn't do enough cleaning today)

In my disgust, I shove the kitchen chair that is in the middle of this puddle over to the side of the room. On it's way, the chair juuuust clips the corner of my countertop.

And chips a piece off. I am certain this happened because no home improvement adventure at our house would be complete without resorting, at some point, to the use of super glue.

Once the chip is glued back in place, I go check with Paul who reports that, after turning the power back on in the room, the fan does not work.

We hang it up. Get the kids dressed. Done for the night.

Until Paul figured out that if you just pull that little chain thing that is attached to the fan, it will actually start turning.

So we forge ahead with the process of attaching the lighting component. Which WILL NOT LINE UP with the screw holes we are supposed to be using.

That was another twenty minutes.

We're not convinced that the light fixture is adequately secured to the fan. But, this is just the fan over our bed, so, fortunately, should the light actually fall off of the ceiling, we'll at least have the pleasure of dying in our sleep.

We attached the glass light fixtures and put in the light bulbs. When we turned the power on again, we saw that only two of the four bulbs were working. Paul and I exchanged looks, but it only took me a moment to try that OTHER chain that was hanging from the fan. (I may be some dumb but I ain't plumb dumb.) Turns out that other chain makes ALL FOUR lights turn on if you want to make the room, you know, bright.

And there you have it. A fan. Installed. And, at last check, still attached to the ceiling.

But you realize we're not done. We did, after all, buy TWO fans.

Dear Paul: An actual e-mail to my husband

Could you please call Bank of America and tell them they are driving your wife crazy. They have called every day this week asking for you and every day I have told them that you are not home in the daytime. Every day they have said they will "take care" of it, or some such nonsense. Every day they call again.

Someone gave me a phone number yesterday to call and the woman I called put me on the do not call list, then said that it could take 30 days for that to take effect. They called again today, I spoke to a manager and he said, after cutting me off in the middle of a sentence, that there was nothing he could do the change how their system works and that he is sorry for the inconvenience (even though the inconvenience will probably happen again, but I guess that's my problem, not his.)

I had to (HAD TO) tell him that his company was a lot more likely to get some business from us if they would actually listen to potential customers and try to accomodate them. But that's when he cut me off. So I guess I got my point across eh?

Kicking myself for not writing down names.

ANYWAY, I called the number on the back of the card and the woman could not help me because she didn't know who to send me to to take care of it. That's funny. Then she said "Since you are not the cardholder, I cannot even tell you the balance on the account." To which I said "That's hilarious, because I just listened to a recording that I didn't even ask for, which told me the balance on this account."

Is everyone at Bank of America on narcotics or something?

So... after some lengthy discourse about Federal Law or some such nonsense, I just told her to STOP and listen to me. Finally, she told me that if YOU call she can "push one button" to make them stop calling. And I told her that I already called the number they gave me yesterday to put us on the do not call list (she was surprised they even GAVE me a number to call) and I explained that they said it would take thirty days. So I asked her if this "button" she can push (if YOU call) will also take thirty days to work. She said, and I quote "It shouldn't."

Very reassuring, eh?

So could you please call and attempt to get that button pushed because they are about to drive me batty - as evidenced by the fact that I have just typed out a lengthy e-mail detailing all of this to you.

the acct # is XXXX XXXX XXXX XXXX
the Customer "Service" (wink, wink) number is 1 800 732 9194

Thank you for your time.

Respectfully,
L

Carnival o' Chocolate

No fancy buttons. No Mr. Linkies.

It's just a little idea sparked by this post of Addie's.

I'm just curious how many people have a picture of their baby covered in chocolate.... If you have one you are willing to post, please do so. I'd love to see.

Leave a comment with the link to your post (not your blog) and we can all have a little fun. Your post doesn't even have to link back to me unless you want to.

Here's my baby:

The Boy

Character issues abound when you have three little ones in the house. Kindness. Selflessness. Trustworthiness. Politeness.

There is always something, and sometimes it wears on me.

Wears on me because it seems constant. If one isn't grabbing a toy out of someone else's hand, then the other is trying to cajole the third into hitting someone with a wooden spoon.

Wears on me because talking it out requires time. And patience. I suppose I have time - as long as no one minds if dinner is late. And I know I HAVE patience. It's just that using it isn't the most self-satisfying response I can think of.

(Character issues of my own, you ask? Indeed!)

So I have been growing tired of addressing character lately. I suppose God knew this, because he sent me a little boy. Well, not SO little. More like about-to-turn-four little. And, sometimes, that boy does things that give me hope that, when it comes to character, all is not lost.

This is the boy who, though far too fascinated with breaking things for his mother's liking, is just happy to be alive. Laid back. Sensitive in a sweet, almost-four-years-old kind of way.

He asked for a snack yesterday right before lunch. I responded by asking him if he could just wait til lunch before he ate anything. This day, instead of asking me to change my mind, or whining about how hungry he was, he simply said, "That's a great idea, mom!"

Why, thank you for saying so, son. It was a little boost for me; a welcome reprieve.

My sweet boy did it again tonight as we read "The Giving Tree" before bed. The story is new to him, so I knew to watch his face as I read. Whenever he hears a story for the first time, every emotion he experiences is displayed plainly in his face.

We got to the part where "the tree was happy. But not really" and Jonathan just about bust out crying.

Oblivious to the fact that I already knew, he drew close to me and said, "this story makes me want to cry."

We talked about that story and about what it means to be a good friend. I explained to him that stories like that make us sad because we know that someone else felt hurt. Then I told him that a good friend remembers to be kind so that others won't feel hurt.

Then I gave him an example. A real life example that happened just this week.

He and Ms. Boo marched into the kitchen just as I was making out my grocery list. Cake mix was on sale and two birthdays are coming up, so I asked him what kind of cake he wanted for his birthday. (He loves chocolate, but I didn't want to assume.)

"Chocolate," he replied - as expected.

But no sooner had the word come out of his mouth than Boo chimed in with, "Yuck!" (Not a fan of the chocolate cake, she.)

Without a moment's hesitation, Bug declared, "I want white cake mom!"

"Do you, really want white cake?" I asked. "You can have whatever kind you want."

"I want white cake. That way Boo can have some too!"

After praising him for his very selfless decision, he (and I am not kidding you) walked around singing, "I love white cake. It's so good. I love white cake..."

When I reminded him of that story tonight, I told him that I knew he did it because he didn't want Boo to feel bad, and that that's how good friends act toward each other.

He turned to me, with a look of despair and said, "but what kind of icing will we have?"

"Chocolate," I replied.

"But Boo can't have that! We can't have chocolate icing!"

I assured the boy that Boo does, indeed, like chocolate icing, and all was right with his world.

I can't stand it. That child is too sweet.

I am grateful for his little reminders to me that my children's character is not a lost cause.

Thank God for little boys.

For All You* Little People!

I haven't shared much of my thoughts about "blog awards." I suppose I won't do it now either. Suffice to say that I find them odd.

That said, Jules (whom I do not find odd) at Everyday Mommy is hosting a new kind of blog award (which I also, oddly, do not find odd.) It's called the Hidden Treasure Blog Award. It seems like a decent way to bring more readers to blogs that don't already get hundreds of hits every day. (I've experienced this on occasion over here, but one required a cute child and an expensive trip to China, and the other required a link from one of those other well-read blogs. And getting her to link to me wasn't cheap either, thankyouverymuch.**)

Normally I don't nominate or vote in these kinds of things. But when I read about this, I realized that I read a few bloggers who have written some posts that might deserve some recognition. And I think, in this case, they might actually have a shot at being recognized! It seems like this might be a chance for the "little people" to get a pat on the back for good writing.

So, if you can think of a blogger who doesn't have a huge readership, but has a few well-written posts, you might consider nominating him or her and spread the bloggy-award love.

*And by "you" I mean "us." ;)
** I'M KIDDING!

Cause we didn't get those Christmas cards out...

I thought maybe you'd all like to see a few pics of the family. (I scanned prints because we didn't have a digital camera until last night... YIPEE! The quality won't be fantastic, but you'll get the idea.)

This is the gift the kids gave me for Christmas. It is flattering, yet not, all at the same time. I love it!





















I love this picture of Paul with the kids. Too much cuteness on one chair!


















Just the goyls.














I don't know why I love this picture, but I do.













Blogger uploaded all of those in less than 10 minutes. WOW! I just might have to do this again soon.

This ain't no Harvard Entrance Exam

I'd call myself a nerd if it wasn't for the fact that I'm really just nerdY.

Because nerds are good at all manner of math and science and can eloquently explain any given concept comprising those disciplines in a flawless essay for their Harvard entrance exam.

And, you know, get accepted.

Me?

1160 SAT, baby. And I am not so sure my intellect has increased all that much since then.

But I am nerdY. No doubt about it. I'll watch the history channel over American Idol any day. Any day.

The thing is, I like me some thinking. That's what I like. Stretch my mind a little. But NOT TOO MUCH, because I'm only nerdY, not "a nerd."

My nerdIness, of late, has taken the form of Yahoo! Answers. Have you seen this? I click on over there and read all the questions people are asking in the chemistry section. (I miss talking chemistry, you know?) Some of the questions are funny - straight out of some high school kid's text book. Some of them are, um, well not chemistry. (Dude, "6 is what percent of 24?"? For real that you need to ask this, but then you list it as a chemistry question?)

I don't answer a ton of them, mostly I just read other people's answers, sometimes just to see the approach they took.

But my nerdIness was in full swing when I answered a question for someone about the periodic table, electron configurations, and reactivity... and I ENJOYED IT. Yes, I did. Somewhere along the way, I started feeling a bit nostalgic about teaching those same things many moons ago... thinking about some of the students I would have taught them to. (See? No one who gets into Harvard ends a sentence with "to.")

Later, I was browsing around at some of the answers to questions that had "expired." Here was one of them:

Does square miles*depth = cubic ft.?

Can I just go right out of my ever-loving mind? See, at this point the nerdIness completely gives way to the teacher in me: I don't know what bothered me more, that the person didn't have enough tools in the ol' noggin to figure this one out, or that NONE of the answers people gave made any cotton picking sense AT ALL! And it killed me that I could not offer this answer:

Square miles multiplied by a depth (also measured in miles) would give a volume in cubic miles. In order to get an answer in cubic feet, the depth must be measured in feet and the square miles must first be converted to square feet.

As I am contemplating all of this, it made me wonder if maybe, just MAYBE, I miss teaching a teensy weensy little bit.

Until I made ice cream with the kids today - the way I used to have my chemistry classes make it. And the O.N.L.Y. memory I had (which would not get itself out of my mind, by the way) of making ice cream with my students was one in which this goofy kid spilled salt into his ice cream mixture without realizing it, and then about gagged when he tried to eat the ice cream.

And the fact that THAT is the only real memory I have of my five YEARS worth of making ice cream with my chem classes tells me that....

No, I don't really miss teaching so much.

I'm just nerdY.

Blogging, what's that?

I'd love to tell you what is going on, but I fear it is terribly boring.

I haven't planned enough in advance for Ms. Boo's schooling.

I didn't even do her math lesson with her today.

I guess that's okay, since we did two lessons yesterday.

I really want to update my blessings blog, but I just haven't had time.

First day of the 90 Day Bible study was great.

Broken car window.

Well-child appointment.

Messed up settings in the online group I'm moderating whereby members could not read messages people were posting. Minor. Problem.

Before this evening, I don't even know when I last checked my bloglines account. It's been so long even Addie had a post up.

Spent far too long trying to get a circle divided evenly into thirds with the drawing feature in Open Office.

Need to get whipping cream and a notebook for tomorrow's lesson.

Exercise? was I supposed to do that today too?

To the Gazzilionty People who are doing the Bible Study

If you signed up to do the Bible study in my last post, but have not received any informational e-mail, would you please contact me at inepti2d(at)yahoo(dot)com.

All AbOOOOOOARD!

I am beginning the Bible in 90 Days on Wednesday. I will be leading the class at my church (assuming anyone has signed up) AND I will be doing it with a small group of women online. You don't really need anything but a Bible to join us (though a participant's guide would be helpful.) I have already sent out the first e-mail to the women who want to do this. If you didn't get it and you should have, or want to, please let me know.

Why would anyone want to do this, you ask?

That's a good question. Here are some reasons.

1. Because you are more likely to finish it if you make a 90 day commitment than if you make a 1 year commitment. Lots of people start a plan for reading the Bible in one year, but how many actually finish?

2. Because you get the "big picture." When you read the Bible in a shorter period of time, you see themes from book to book that you would likely not otherwise catch. Leviticus parallels Hebrews, Daniel parallels Revelation. When the details are fresh in your mind, you are less likely to miss those things.

3. Because you are more likely to succeed at reading the entire Bible if you do it with a group.

I am very excited to start. I know God blesses those who read His Word. I am expecting a blessing.

Come join us!

(Thanks to everyone who came over here from Boomama's. And thanks to Boomama for the link. Our group is growing! If you want to join, please leave your e-mail address in the comments section! In order for me to contact everyone and also begin on time, I am going to close these comments at 11:00 pm EST, Monday Jan. 8. At that time no more additions will be made to our study group. Thanks for stopping by!)

Books, Blessings, and Well Being

Well, that about sums up 2006. Books, Blessings, and Well-Being. It was a good year.

The books, you've heard all about. All too often. But that was a big accomplishment for me. For the most part, I enjoyed the reading. This year, my first book-related goal will be reading the Bible. (I'm still planning on starting the 90 Day reading plan on January 10. Let me know if you want to join... there is still time.) Though reading through the Bible is more than just a reading goal for me, it is probably also the only reading goal that I have set for myself this year. But the reading list in my sidebar has been updated. And yes, it pained me to have to remove all the books I'd already read.

The Bible reading is part of a larger goal of maintaining the well-being that seemed to return to me sometime in 2006. I shared previously about the treatment for my depression. I'm done with the medicine, and I don't see my therapist anymore. And I am feeling pretty good. YAY! The more I go on feeling good, the more I develop a war-like mentality about not getting depressed again... and doing as much as I can possibly do to keep that from happening.

In light of that, I have developed a bit of a wellness plan. It includes a plan for losing weight (which I would also like to do because diabetes runs in my family,) but it isn't rigid. I am trying to work out, drink more water, eat more fruits/veggies and fewer desserts. No major dieting aside from watching what I eat and introducing some more healthful foods. I am writing everything down for a few months (how much I drink, if I took my vitamin, whether I exercised, etc.) I hope it will help me see patterns in my eating and weight loss and if I have accomplished (or majorly messed up) anything.

The chart I am keeping even includes a space to check if I have done my daily Bible reading or my Fly Lady mission. Keeping the house in order certainly plays into the level of stress I feel. The daily time with God is huge though - and not just in regard to my depression.

All of this to say that I am working towards some lifestyle changes. I don't know when I'll be out of the "working on it" phase and into the "accomplished it" phase. But that's not really something I am concerned about as much as making small changes as I can.

Finally, I am certain beyond any degree of doubt that the year 2006 was rife with blessings. I don't even know why I started the blessings blog, but I am so glad I did. It has altered my perspective, and my attitude too, I think! I will continue to record my blessings for 2007 because I know I need to keep up the habit of recognizing (and expecting) God's provision. But, as I begin to focus on some other things, I think my goal for the blessing blog will not be as lofty as it was last year.

So here's to 2007 (and to unimaginative ends to mediocre narrative.)