This past week it's been all about teeth. Bradley's are falling out, and Bryant's are coming in. (See the bottom front left of his gums; you can just barely see it breaking the surface.) I guess this is what it's going to be like having kids that are seven years apart. The thought of Bryant being Bradley's age meaning that Bradley will be getting ready to drive sends my heart into palpitations.

Bradley has lost two of his front middle teeth since Wednesday, which he thinks is really cool because now he and Dylan have matching smiles. He doesn't believe in the tooth fairy anymore, so he brought it down to me before going to bed and said, "Here Mom, where do you want me to put it?" So sad really.

Last time he lost a tooth, he just asked me point blank, "Mom, is the tooth fairy real? Tell me the truth."
Being caught off guard, I asked him, "Do you think the tooth fairy is real?"
"No."
Taking a deep breath, I said, "I will tell you the truth, but you have to promise not to ruin it for your sister or anybody at school. The truth is that I am the tooth fairy. I am telling you this because there are things in life that we can't see that are real."
"Uh-huh, like God."
"That's right. I don't want you to wonder whether God is real if I've told you that the tooth fairy is real and you find out later that she isn't."

I was really proud of him, because he took it all in stride. Later, when a neighbor asked if the tooth fairy had come, he just said yes and gave me a big wink behind their back. It was an edible moment. I'm kindof dreading having the Santa conversation, though. Hopefully he'll think it's fun to play it up for Bailey. He's a good big brother like that.

Anyone that knows me at all is aware that I'm a political/talk radio/news junkie. I always want to be aware of what's happening in the world, our country, our state and even on the local level. While I do think it's important to be informed, there are times that this knowledge can be oppressive. It's scary to pay attention to what's happening in Israel, North Korea, Russia and Iran. It's draining to see the ongoing violence in Iraq and wonder how it's all going to play out. It's maddening to watch the election frenzy and candidates attempt to tear each other down until there's nothing left but a shell of who they originally were. It's frustrating to see the millions of dollars being wasted on TennCare, and how the attempts to fix the problem result in people who are truly in need losing their healthcare insurance. If you dwell on these things, it can really drag you down.

Election years are the worst for me. As we all do, I HATE campaign ads. Just once, I'd love to see a candidate step up to the plate and refuse to sink into attack mode. I know they think they have to defend themselves, and that the best defense is a good offense, but I think all it would take is one person to refuse to step in the ring. Come out, talk about your plan. Tell me why you would be a good senator/rep/whatever. When the other guy runs an ad about the time back in college where you attended a seminar on Marxism, which surely makes you a member of Russian intelligence, take Jesus at His word and turn the other cheek. You could say, "I know that I'm being attacked right now, and please feel free to research my opponent's claims to see if they hold water. As for me, I'm just going to keep telling you what I want to do for you while I'm in office." If the other guy continued to run attack ads, he would find himself so far down in the polls that he would most certainly lose. You can't continue to attack someone who isn't fighting back. And if you do, you certainly aren't going to be winning people over to your cause. Come on, somebody, just try it! Once others see that it works, it could completely change the look of election year. What a serendipitous thing that would be.

But as I'm watching all of the frenzy surrounding the coming election, it's hard not to engage in the negativity. When I first heard the story that Bob Corker was running a racist ad against Harold Ford, Jr., at first I was curious. What ad is he running that's racist? Then after I saw it I was confused. How was that racist? Truly, no understanding at this point. Then once it was explained to me on Good Morning America why it was a racist commercial, then I was beyond offended. Truly, truly disgusted.

I think the NAACP is the poster child for racism. By saying that a white woman (who Harold presumably could have met at a Playboy party he went to, which was the point of the segment in the first place) telling Harold to call her will invoke fear of interracial relationship in the hearts of all of us backwoods, gun-toting, Bible-beating hicks in Tennessee, they are only pointing out their blatant hypocrisy. Who was it that noticed the woman was white? Certainly not the average Joe watching the commercial. It was just a tacky, although somewhat amusing ad. It's the NAACP who noticed her race first, which is what defines racism. To have to be told that something is racist, and then have it explained why is clearly a stretch. I'm just so disgusted by the whole thing.

Do I want to vote for either of these guys? In all honesty, no. But I do feel compelled to vote for the one that I believe has the greatest chance of representing my values once he gets to the Hill. So it boils down to holding my nose and pulling the lever.

At the risk of this becoming an obscenely long post, I have another rabbit to chase. Lately I've been pondering about the hatred that so many people in this country have for our president. Because I'm not one of them, I often think, "Why can't you get past it? He's the President, just accept it and move on." And then I'll be flipping channels and see Bill Clinton. My stomach immediately churns and my teeth begin to involuntarily gnash. While it should have been obvious, I'm coming to realize that I harbor the same level of loathing towards our former president as some do for our current one.

I started checking off why I feel this way about him. 1) I think he was a lousy president, putting his self-interest ahead of the good of the country. Bush's opponents think this exact same thing, claiming that he is only interested in making his oil buddies wealthy. 2) I think he made disastrous choices with foreign policy that set us up to live in a much more dangerous world than the one he inherited. Bush-haters would definitely apply these words to GWB. 3) His smug, cocky, arrogant personality made me want to throw stuff at the TV every time I saw him. Need I say more?

Now, I had lots of other reasons for thinking Clinton was a terrible president, most dealing with character flaws. But if I stop and think about how upset I used to get that he was destroying my country, I have to acknowledge that there are many people out there voting blue that are just as worried that Bush is destroying theirs. Of course I think they are wrong, because I'm passionate about what I believe. But I'm trying to put myself in their shoes to see if there's not some area of common ground in there somewhere. And setting myself up in case my side loses next time to hopefully not panic. I'm not promising anything, though.

I am very thankful that Governor Bredesen is going to win in a landslide against Jim "Vote for me, I'm tall" Bryson. I was already trying to determine whether I could ethically vote for someone who I think is doing a really decent job running the state if I disagree with his position on abortion. Thankfully I won't have to wrestle with that one this time around. The 2008 Presidential election could get really tricky, though.

In summation, Psalm 146:3-4 says, "Do not put your trust in princes, in mortal men, who cannot save. When their spirit departs, they return to the ground; on that very day their plans come to nothing." Nothing like the word of God to put everything in its proper perspective.

Have you ever noticed that there are no pay phones anymore? Of course we don't notice this, because we always have our cell phones and have no need for a pay phone. Which I'm assuming is what Bellsouth was thinking when they got rid of them all. However, as anyone who has ever gone out without their cell phone knows, we are really, really used to having them. Not having my phone always makes me uncomfortable, as if I'm going to miss something vitally important. This is crazy, but it's just the way I've allowed myself to become programmed.

So what does this have to do with the adorable picture of this 3-year-old soccer player? Nothing, except that it was at my precious nephew's soccer game on Saturday that I somehow misplaced my phone. Not realizing this, I left the Bellevue area headed back home. Just a couple of minutes down the road, I tried to call Jeff to see what kind of progress they were making coming home from Mississippi. Since I obviously was having trouble finding my phone, I pulled off into a parking lot to conduct a full and complete search. Becoming ever more frustrated by the minute, I realized that I was going to have to go back to the soccer fields and hunt for my phone. Full of fear and trepidation over having to tell Jeff that I had lost my phone, I lugged all three kids back to the scene of the loss.

Parking as close to my original spot as I could, I had Bradley look under all the cars as we were walking towards the fields to see if he could spot it. I even asked a very nice (albeit suspicious) lady to call my phone just in case I could hear it ring. No such luck. When I got to the concessions stand and asked if anyone had turned in a phone, the lady told me that someone had already come and picked it up. Well, this couldn't be my phone, because no one knows that I lost it. She asked me if I wanted her to call it, so I gave her the number, hoping that I would hear it ring in the big bin of lost soccer balls, but no luck. So we headed back to the car.

As fate would have it, Bradley had to stop off at the Port-a-John, since it had been a good seven minutes since the last time he used it. As I'm waiting for him, the lady from concessions comes up and tells me, "Ma'am, your sister has your phone and she's waiting for you at the mall." Great news! I tell Bradley to hurry up and we're off to the mall. Just one problem. I have no idea where at the mall she is, and of course, I can't call her.

So we get to the mall, and I'm driving around the parking lot muttering "serenity now" over and over under my breath, hoping to see her standing by her car waving me down. No such luck. Bryant is starting to protest in hunger, and the other two are becoming really bored with this whole thing. Finally I park and unload them all, hoping to find a set of pay phones somewhere in the mall so that I can call my sister and get my phone back. As we're walking past the food court, she calls out to me. Sweet relief! She says, "I waited outside for you for a while, but Cooper was getting hungry." I told her that I had been driving around looking for her. She says, "Didn't the lady tell you that I said we'd be at Chick-Fil-A in the mall?" No. No, she didn't. That would have been a really useful piece of information.

So, you're wondering how my sister had my phone in the first place? Perhaps you're not, but I certainly was. This is the part where God truly was smiling down on me. It just so happened that a few minutes after I left, Jeff called me to tell me where they were. Someone had already turned my phone into lost and found, and they answered it, hoping to find whoever it belonged to. They told him that they had my phone. He called my sister, who was able to pick it up from the concessions stand because they were still at the field. Obviously she couldn't call me to let me know that she had it.

1 Thessalonians 5:18 says to "give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." Although I wasn't feeling particularly thankful for the wasted hour, I have to thank God for keeping it from being so much worse. After all, someone could be walking around with their SIM card in a brand new phone that just happens to have a picture of three adorable blond children on the face plate. Or I could have gotten all the way home and had to have driven an hour back to Bellevue to get my phone back. And in the broader scope of all the problems of this world, please. This was strictly a minor annoyance. Besides, I still made it home in time for kickoff, so all was right with the world.

It feels like Bradley is growing up at warp speed. Public school is teaching him things I really wasn't ready for him to know yet. Like tonight when he asked me what "making out" means. "Where did you hear that?" I asked. "On the bus." Oh right, of course.

Lately it seems we've had all too many of these frightening moments. But then they get balanced out with the funny ones. Since the kids were helping me sort the laundry tonight, I put Bryant in his fenced-in area and turned on a Playhouse Disney show called Handy Manny. It's really a Hispanic knockoff of Bob the Builder, but it's pretty cute. Bradley says to me, "Mom, I know it's kind of strange, but I really like this show." I said, "Why is that strange?" He said, "Because it's a baby show." I'm already not liking where this is going.

"Who told you it was a baby show?"
"Nobody. I just told myself. Most of the shows on Playhouse Disney are baby shows."
"Oh really? What makes them baby shows?"
"Well, on big kid shows, the characters don't ask you questions."
Oh. I can see that.

How can I slow this down?? I can see how if I didn't have Bryant to baby I could get seriously depressed. God bless him when he hits second grade. We may both need therapy.

It seems that Bryant has chosen sides. They say in Alabama you have to declare your football loyalty on your birth certificate. Since our kids live in a divided household, I kind of thought our kids would just have dual citizenship, so to speak. Yesterday morning it was pretty chilly, so I dressed Bryant in a cute little UT sweatshirt outfit. Although he hasn't leaked out of a diaper in months, he somehow managed to both pee on AND spit up on his cute little UT outfit. So he ended up watching the game in his Alabama jersey, which he kept in pristine condition throughout the entire afternoon. Looks like he's going to be true to his namesake after all. Roll Tide.

Yeah!! My husband is on his way home! They worked like crazy yesterday to get everything done, and now they're on the way home. I knew he wouldn't be able to miss the UT-Alabama game!

What an amazing thing they've accomplished this week, building a house for a family in Mississippi who lost everything in Hurricane Katrina last year. Jeff said the couple is completely overwhelmed, and keep saying how unworthy they feel. I know this trip has been a blessing for all of them. It's a beautiful thing to see the body of Christ at work.

GO VOLS/ROLL TIDE!! (I'm so confused.)

I miss my husband. I really need him to come home. It's been a full week now, and I'm really tired. This morning I learned that it is possible to take a shower and wash my hair while holding my baby. I thought I had done everything under the sun one-handed with my first two kids. Apparently there's still some unexplored territory. Don't worry, Mom, I didn't try to shave my legs.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. My sweet baby boy is growing up way too fast. While not yet seven months, he is already crawling all over the place, pulling up to a complete standing position, and yesterday he attempted to climb up the stairs. I so wanted to squeeze the life out of this child and keep him a baby as long as I could. He's just not cooperating. Thankfully, he has the sweetest temperment and the cuddliest personality. Even though he's a mover and a shaker, he will also let me hold him, hug him and kiss him as much as I want. I'm so grateful for that.

So, back to desperate measures. Seeing as how he will absolutely never stay in one place for any amount of time, I was constantly having to chase him around. Putting him in the Pack 'n Play was met with screams of protest after just a very few minutes. So we had to come up with a compromise. Now we have a slightly bigger boundary, but I can still leave the room with peace of mind. Introducing... the Bryant cage. I really hope he doesn't need therapy for this.

I love Beth Moore. Next to my own pastor, she is my favorite Bible teacher, hands down. I want to be able to study the Bible the way that she does. Every time I go through one of her studies, I see things in the sripture that I've never seen before. I'm so thankful that she was obedient to God to write these studies, because I know that thousands of women have been changed by looking at God's word through her eyes, and discovering His truth in a new way.

For instance, right now I'm doing her study on the Patriarchs. This one is right up my alley because it has a huge emphasis on history, and I'm a big geek. I love it. One of the neatest things I've learned so far is where the word Judaism comes from. That's just something I've never thought to think about before. The word wasn't born until way after the kingdom of Israel split into two, becoming the northern kingdom of Israel and the southern kingdom of Judah. The people became known as Judah-ites (later shortened to Jews) and their religion was Judah-ism. Hence, the word Judaism. Before this they were known simply as Hebrews and Israelites. Fascinating.

I also learned that the ancient enemy of the Israelites, the Philistines, who brought fear and trembling into their hearts (David and Goliath, anyone?) and was just a general thorn in their side all throughout the Old Testament, are now known by a slightly different derivation of the name, Palestinians. So this conflict that we see in the news today actually does go back to the beginning of time. Technically, the Palestianians were there first. Unfortunately for them, God owned the land and gave it to His chosen people. I'm thinking they're still not over it.

But today I learned something I've never ever seen or given one single thought to before. Genesis 25 tells us about the death of Abraham. Verse 8 tells us that "Abraham breathed his last and died in a good old age, an old man and full of years, and was gathered to his people." That part I had seen. The next verse just totally snuck up on me, though.

"And his sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah..." Whoa. I never knew that Ishmael came back to bury his father. This has sent my mind wandering all morning. Did Abraham send for him? Did Isaac send for him? The last recorded encounter between Isaac and Ishmael is when Sarah gets ticked at Ishmael for laughing at Isaac at his weaning party and convinces Abraham to send him away. He almost dies of heat exhaustion and starvation in the wilderness before God rescues him and Hagar. There had to be deep layers of resentment towards Isaac that Ishmael had carried pretty much since he found out Sarah was pregnant. I'm amazed that he even came to the burial, and then it makes me really sad for him. It makes me sad for Abraham, that he wouldn't have seen his firstborn son for all these years. No matter how he came into being, I know Abraham would have loved him and I'm sure he missed him. And here we see Ishmael, coming back for the funeral. What a stressful, awkward encounter this must have been for them all.

I've often wondered why God didn't allow Ishmael to die in the desert, knowing that his descendants would be at war with Isaac's until the end of time. I guess I'll never be able to understand the depth of His love and mercy. I'm just so grateful that it extends to me.

What is it about Fall that makes me so happy? I know Spring is when everything begins again, a time of new life. I do love it when everything starts to bloom. But my favorite season is when everything is so gracefully dying. It's as if the trees burst to life with one last gasp of air before the light burns out and they lose their grip. I wish that it didn't happen so quickly, but I guess it's the brevity of it that makes me appreciate it all the more. Ever since I saw this rainbow of color at the entrance to my subdivision last year, I've been waiting for it to happen again. I promised myself I'd take pictures this year so that I'd be able to hold onto the feeling just a little bit longer. Every time I come in or go out of my neighborhood, I just can't help but smile at them and thank God for this incredible display.

I remember one Fall when I was about 16 when I took a whole roll of color pictures of different trees around my neighborhood and other places in my town. There was an incredibly beautiful tree right outside my high school that I would just stare out the window at all through Economics class. To me, it's the same as watching a fire burn, equally as hypnotizing. One of the biggest things I miss about the town I grew up in is the way it looks in the Fall. My street was full of the biggest and most beautiful trees I've ever seen.

I hope that when I die, I go out like one of these trees. Energetic beauty and grace, standing tall, and leaving everyone I touch with a smile.

Ah... being 5. My sister sent me a card the day after this was taken that said, "Remember when we could show up somewhere wearing the exact same outfit and everyone thought it was cute?" That's exactly what happened on the Sunday morning Bryant was dedicated. I didn't even know Bailey and Riley Grace had the same dress, much less that they were both going to wear it that morning. The girls were almost identical, which tickled them to no end. My dad took this photo, which I think beautifully captures their spirits. I can't wait to see where this friendship goes.

As for life application, while we grown-up girls would be embarrassed to show up wearing exactly the same thing, we STRIVE to show up wearing something from the "approved" list. If we see a friend wearing something we think is cute, we will comment on it. This has the double purpose of uplifting our friend, and also finding out where they got it. Because it's not necessary to ask. Simply saying, "I love that skirt!" will immediately be responded to with both the location of purchase and the price, assuming it was a good deal. For example, me saying, "What cute shoes!" will automatically be replied to with, "Thanks! Target, 14.99!" It's a dance we women do, and it's as innate as driving bad at night.

So, while we don't want to wear exactly the same thing, we want to find something REALLY close to it and wear it in front of that friend the first chance we get. We want to be able to say, "Thanks! Kohl's, 10 bucks!"

I guess some things never change.

This is what I want my blog to be about, chronicling the life of my precious family. These are the most important people in the world to me, and I am thrilled to have a place to share their stories, and just get them down on paper so I don't forget them in the continuing craziness of life. I never would have dreamed how blessed my life would be.

This picture is from Bryant's baby dedication on Sunday, October 1. He was so precious!

The Beginning

Wow. I guess this is what it feels like to be a blogger. I never thought of myself as a blogger, but here we go. I'm hoping this will actually start me journaling, something I've wanted to do for so long, but never found the time. I'm sure it's not going to be very good in the beginning, but hopefully I'll grow as time passes. If you are reading this, you must love me a lot. Just so you know, right back at you.