okay, does anyone else have weird memories of watching olsen twins videos during library time in elementary school, or is that just me? whatever the case, if you never before thought those movies were creepy (even though i have one vivid memory of an 'episode' in which they were trying to sell their brother at a lemonade stand), this will convince you.
holly jolly hobby lobby.
recently, i was telling a friend about how overwhelmed i feel at times, and how i feel like my days/weeks/months are just a repeat of the same dumb day/week/month before. she recommended i get out of the house more, which i don't do because coats and boots and hats and diaper changes and nap schedules and whiny kids and cold weather and a coat pocket full of bribe-y graham cracker crumbs and all that. but she told me to try it, and try it i did.
so yesterday we went to hobby lobby, where that hymns-on-piano cd playing over the loudspeaker can lull you into lazy comfortability. but you have to be on your A-game to visit hobby lobby with kids in tow, because the carts are tiny and the breakables all look like toys and are at preschooler-eyeball level.
i went to pick up supplies to make a stocking for laurelai, a wreath for our front door (i had planned to be on top of seasonal porch decor, but i still have a sad, snow-covered hay bale out there right now), and a pack of command hooks. i came home with supplies for laurelai's stocking, a plaster bust, some superglue, and some curtain rings that i accidentally shoplifted because they ended up under finneas' hat in the cart at checkout. and that sums up a trip to hobby lobby with the kids.
also? as i was walking through the store, i kept getting a whiff of some shopper with some serious B.O. i was all, wow...that's pungent. then i was all, who is that coming from? then i was all, oh, it turns out i'm the smelliest shopper.
yes, friends, that horrible smell was wafting through my shirt, through my heavy cable-knit sweater, and through my wool coat. and when i didn't think it could be any worse, i got home and took off all those layers and realized i had huge, dried breastmilk stains on my bottom-most shirt layer.
thank goodness the kids were relative angels in the store, because otherwise i would have ended up praying for the apocolypse, or at least a heart attack, to get me out of having to make it out of public on my own. and if i had gotten that wish, i would have been ushered into either heaven or the emergency room with those nasty stains all fresh on my clothing and that rancid scent radiating off of me, and i just don't know that i want to end things that way. i like to think that, if the rapture doesn't happen in my lifetime, that i will die laying on a bed of rose petals in a meadow, with a lily in my gracefully folded hands and a euphoric look on my face. my hair all did and everrrthang. not all smelly and stained and laying on the linoleum under the 50% off signs at hobby lobby.
so merry christmas to me! i didn't die or get sniffed by an emt! and sometimes that's all you can ask for.
so yesterday we went to hobby lobby, where that hymns-on-piano cd playing over the loudspeaker can lull you into lazy comfortability. but you have to be on your A-game to visit hobby lobby with kids in tow, because the carts are tiny and the breakables all look like toys and are at preschooler-eyeball level.
i went to pick up supplies to make a stocking for laurelai, a wreath for our front door (i had planned to be on top of seasonal porch decor, but i still have a sad, snow-covered hay bale out there right now), and a pack of command hooks. i came home with supplies for laurelai's stocking, a plaster bust, some superglue, and some curtain rings that i accidentally shoplifted because they ended up under finneas' hat in the cart at checkout. and that sums up a trip to hobby lobby with the kids.
also? as i was walking through the store, i kept getting a whiff of some shopper with some serious B.O. i was all, wow...that's pungent. then i was all, who is that coming from? then i was all, oh, it turns out i'm the smelliest shopper.
yes, friends, that horrible smell was wafting through my shirt, through my heavy cable-knit sweater, and through my wool coat. and when i didn't think it could be any worse, i got home and took off all those layers and realized i had huge, dried breastmilk stains on my bottom-most shirt layer.
thank goodness the kids were relative angels in the store, because otherwise i would have ended up praying for the apocolypse, or at least a heart attack, to get me out of having to make it out of public on my own. and if i had gotten that wish, i would have been ushered into either heaven or the emergency room with those nasty stains all fresh on my clothing and that rancid scent radiating off of me, and i just don't know that i want to end things that way. i like to think that, if the rapture doesn't happen in my lifetime, that i will die laying on a bed of rose petals in a meadow, with a lily in my gracefully folded hands and a euphoric look on my face. my hair all did and everrrthang. not all smelly and stained and laying on the linoleum under the 50% off signs at hobby lobby.
so merry christmas to me! i didn't die or get sniffed by an emt! and sometimes that's all you can ask for.
you've never seen him in a role like this before.
todd van voorst, in the role of a lifetime: brother phineas!
come see the christmas production tonight at 9:00 at UNI, or sunday at 9:45 at candeo. it's going to be super fun!
come see the christmas production tonight at 9:00 at UNI, or sunday at 9:45 at candeo. it's going to be super fun!
video vednesday: why kevin bacon? because kevin bacon loves THE WORLD!
okay, so today's a two-fer. these commercials just might get me a little closer to being able to understand the obsession with kevin bacon. might.
we just don't get it.
well, i started the week off on a serious note with yesterday's blog post, so i figure it's a good time to get serious about something else: why some christians can seem like hypocritical dillweeds.
now, i don't know every dillweed christian out there, but i do know myself and have a general idea about what sometimes makes us seem like the.worst. and you know what it is?
we don't have a great understanding of the gospel. yepper.
i think we tend to think (wrongly) that, once we know jesus, once we've experienced his sacrifice, once we've been forgiven for all that nasty stuff we all know we've done, it's the time to buck up and get our crap together. power through, tiny christian! and what's the opposite of powering through? looking like we don't have our crap together. doing some of that same nasty stuff we've always done. in a word? failing. so you know what we do? we hide our failure. we pretend it's not there. we pride ourselves on our successes and deride other people for stumbling and screwing up and generally just being a nuisance to the rest of us. tarnishing the christian name and all that.
and that turns us into jerks who wave some self-righteous jesus flag around, acting like we're better than everybody. like jesus is proud of our behavior, and our awesomeness, and our general got-it-togetherness.
that is one stinky turd of a lie from the bowels of hell, do you hear me? and we're ruining it for a lot of unbelievers and struggling believers out there.
do you want to hear the truth? (oh, well, i don't really care what you want. i'm riled up and i'm just going to shoot you straight.) god has high, high standards for you and you FAIL. so stop acting like you're holier-than-thou and some gift to the name of christianity. you need a savior because you suck at this.
here's the truth that will change everything. there are two types of people in this world: sinners, and sinners who have been forgiven by the love and work of jesus. we are all in the same sinking boat. but if we've been forgiven, if the sacrifice has been made on our behalf, we don't have to be afraid to fail anymore, because it's been paid for and holds no power over us anymore. we are free to fail, and free to admit it, and free to say we're sorry and own it. because it doesn't define us anymore.
so you're a christian and you tell lies? OWN IT. say, 'in my flesh, i am a liar. i can't be trusted. i am so sorry for the ways that has hurt the people around me and rebelled against the god who loves me. and thank jesus that he was always truthful! his record has been given to me, and i'm seen as perfect in god's eyes - NOT because i'm awesome, but because he did it for me and he's awesome.' and then pray that his holy spirit would give you the power and strength to stop telling lies - it's his spirit that works in you to make you more like him, and he is faithful to sanctify you and turn you into someone you couldn't be without him.
honestly, it doesn't matter what your 'thing' is. tell me you're a gossip or a thief or a porn addict. hell, maybe your 'thing' is your nasty 'i'm such an awesome christian' pride. my answer is the same: you suck. jesus is awesome. his work is enough for you, and it's the only thing that can break the power of the sin that's killing you.
IT'S KILLING YOU. jesus offers to let it kill him instead.
THAT is the gospel.
now, i don't know every dillweed christian out there, but i do know myself and have a general idea about what sometimes makes us seem like the.worst. and you know what it is?
we don't have a great understanding of the gospel. yepper.
i think we tend to think (wrongly) that, once we know jesus, once we've experienced his sacrifice, once we've been forgiven for all that nasty stuff we all know we've done, it's the time to buck up and get our crap together. power through, tiny christian! and what's the opposite of powering through? looking like we don't have our crap together. doing some of that same nasty stuff we've always done. in a word? failing. so you know what we do? we hide our failure. we pretend it's not there. we pride ourselves on our successes and deride other people for stumbling and screwing up and generally just being a nuisance to the rest of us. tarnishing the christian name and all that.
and that turns us into jerks who wave some self-righteous jesus flag around, acting like we're better than everybody. like jesus is proud of our behavior, and our awesomeness, and our general got-it-togetherness.
that is one stinky turd of a lie from the bowels of hell, do you hear me? and we're ruining it for a lot of unbelievers and struggling believers out there.
do you want to hear the truth? (oh, well, i don't really care what you want. i'm riled up and i'm just going to shoot you straight.) god has high, high standards for you and you FAIL. so stop acting like you're holier-than-thou and some gift to the name of christianity. you need a savior because you suck at this.
here's the truth that will change everything. there are two types of people in this world: sinners, and sinners who have been forgiven by the love and work of jesus. we are all in the same sinking boat. but if we've been forgiven, if the sacrifice has been made on our behalf, we don't have to be afraid to fail anymore, because it's been paid for and holds no power over us anymore. we are free to fail, and free to admit it, and free to say we're sorry and own it. because it doesn't define us anymore.
so you're a christian and you tell lies? OWN IT. say, 'in my flesh, i am a liar. i can't be trusted. i am so sorry for the ways that has hurt the people around me and rebelled against the god who loves me. and thank jesus that he was always truthful! his record has been given to me, and i'm seen as perfect in god's eyes - NOT because i'm awesome, but because he did it for me and he's awesome.' and then pray that his holy spirit would give you the power and strength to stop telling lies - it's his spirit that works in you to make you more like him, and he is faithful to sanctify you and turn you into someone you couldn't be without him.
honestly, it doesn't matter what your 'thing' is. tell me you're a gossip or a thief or a porn addict. hell, maybe your 'thing' is your nasty 'i'm such an awesome christian' pride. my answer is the same: you suck. jesus is awesome. his work is enough for you, and it's the only thing that can break the power of the sin that's killing you.
IT'S KILLING YOU. jesus offers to let it kill him instead.
THAT is the gospel.
advent in the trenches.
when i first had atticus, i was shocked at how dirty i felt all the time. i was always covered in spit-up or leaking breastmilk or snot or sweat or pee or poop or blood or something. i wasn't able to shower as often as i had been used to, and even in the shower, i just felt gross. i would say that was one of the least anticipated and hardest things to adjust to regarding the transition to motherhood.
since then, it's been easier to deal with, and i've reconciled myself to the fact that i'm usually smelling kind of weird, and almost everything i own is smeared with someone's bodily-somethings. but the bigger issue is still really hard for me to accept: that everything i own - even my own body - is no longer mine. it's all subject to my kids' whims and needs and wants and demands.
i have been pregnant or nursing (or both simultaneously) nearly every day for almost six years. my body is wholly at the mercy of some other person. there's always morning sickness, or cravings, or stretch marks, or too much weight or too little weight, or (if i'm being perhaps too honest) now-wonkadonk boobs, or those bald patches i get for the first six months after having a baby. i don't have physical rest, i don't have time for hygiene, my wardrobe is mostly comprised of pajamas and larger-than-preferred underwear. even my feet have gotten bigger! everything about me screams, 'i am a mom and i'll never be the same!' and as much as i love my kids, and as much as i wish it weren't true, i sometimes resent the fact that i'm no longer the person i used to be, and would frequently prefer to be, because i'm a mother.
and i'm currently learning the hard lesson of sacrificing my own wants and needs and stupid i-want-to-look-like-that-blogger wishes in order to pay the price to generate life. that dying to myself so that christ can live in me might look like a broken, imperfect body. that raccoon rings and soft, unchiseled arms and an extra 25 pounds and a receding hairline might be the only personal, physical marks of my biggest accomplishment. and can i be okay with that? i hope someday i can, but right now, it's a struggle.
and so all i can really do right now is praise the god who broke his own body to give me life, who was marred beyond all recognition because it was the only way i could be brought forth. this is the king who washed nasty feet, and was constantly interrupted and overtaken and demanded of, and was so exhausted he was sleeping through a hurricane, just so he could bring me the good news of great joy. he had his beard ripped out, his clothes ripped off, his skin ripped up, to bring me wholeness. and he did it joyfully. willingly. triumphantly. vibrantly. entirely.
i want to remember this. i want to be like this. i want my kids to know that jesus means enough to me, and they mean enough to me, that i will not selfishly hoard this idolized body of mine.
1 john 3:16
we know what real love is because jesus gave up his life for us. so we also ought to give up our lives for our brothers and sisters.
since then, it's been easier to deal with, and i've reconciled myself to the fact that i'm usually smelling kind of weird, and almost everything i own is smeared with someone's bodily-somethings. but the bigger issue is still really hard for me to accept: that everything i own - even my own body - is no longer mine. it's all subject to my kids' whims and needs and wants and demands.
i have been pregnant or nursing (or both simultaneously) nearly every day for almost six years. my body is wholly at the mercy of some other person. there's always morning sickness, or cravings, or stretch marks, or too much weight or too little weight, or (if i'm being perhaps too honest) now-wonkadonk boobs, or those bald patches i get for the first six months after having a baby. i don't have physical rest, i don't have time for hygiene, my wardrobe is mostly comprised of pajamas and larger-than-preferred underwear. even my feet have gotten bigger! everything about me screams, 'i am a mom and i'll never be the same!' and as much as i love my kids, and as much as i wish it weren't true, i sometimes resent the fact that i'm no longer the person i used to be, and would frequently prefer to be, because i'm a mother.
and i'm currently learning the hard lesson of sacrificing my own wants and needs and stupid i-want-to-look-like-that-blogger wishes in order to pay the price to generate life. that dying to myself so that christ can live in me might look like a broken, imperfect body. that raccoon rings and soft, unchiseled arms and an extra 25 pounds and a receding hairline might be the only personal, physical marks of my biggest accomplishment. and can i be okay with that? i hope someday i can, but right now, it's a struggle.
and so all i can really do right now is praise the god who broke his own body to give me life, who was marred beyond all recognition because it was the only way i could be brought forth. this is the king who washed nasty feet, and was constantly interrupted and overtaken and demanded of, and was so exhausted he was sleeping through a hurricane, just so he could bring me the good news of great joy. he had his beard ripped out, his clothes ripped off, his skin ripped up, to bring me wholeness. and he did it joyfully. willingly. triumphantly. vibrantly. entirely.
i want to remember this. i want to be like this. i want my kids to know that jesus means enough to me, and they mean enough to me, that i will not selfishly hoard this idolized body of mine.
1 john 3:16
we know what real love is because jesus gave up his life for us. so we also ought to give up our lives for our brothers and sisters.
weekly 'what's up'
we spent thanksgiving at my mom's, with my parents, my sister and my grandma. todd and i stayed overnight at a hotel, since beds were pretty full-up at the house. it was just todd, me and laurelai. and also duck dynasty. it was like an awesome, relaxing honeymoon. (except, on our actual honeymoon, instead of watching duck dynasty, we watched plenty of E!news coverage of britney spears' unfolding meltdown. also, there was not a tiny infant in the room at the time. just to clarify.)
on a halfway related note, i think i'm having a minor mental breakdown. (all this 'trying to be exactly like britney spears all the time' nonsense is starting to take a turn for the ugly. no shaved heads yet, but we'll have to see how everything unfolds.) just keeping it real here, people. this life can be rough, you know?
anyway, back to the news. let's move along to some poignant photo journalism, shall we?
finneas discovered a new recliner for himself.
finneas discovered a new recliner for himself.
then he discovered a new purpose for his recliner: parking ramp.
penelope wrote her own name. completely unprompted and unassisted. she just...figured it out while todd and i were in the other room.
this chica turned three months old and looks like she's rocking it.
and then there were these:
we got these awesome address labels in the mail. hilarious. i'm pretty sure todd (i mean, tood) would prefer i throw them away. i'm pretty sure i would prefer to put them on any and every letter that leaves this house from now until the day we move out. i'll become a penpal just to have a reason to use these. (on the extra-plus side of these, if i use them to write letters to an inmate, the inmate couldn't look us up after they get out of prison, since there is no 'tood van voorst' in the whitepages. although, there is something to be said for the fact that the stickers do, indeed, display our address accurately. so maybe i won't start writing to inmates after all.)
lastly, i re-caulked the bathtub and also weatherstripped the front door, all by my lonesome. i could be bob villa's twin sister, barb. barb villa.
oh yeah, and my basement floor got covered in pee and i cried and cried and cried. i'll tell you about it next week. or sometime.
LOVE YOU! SMOOCHIES! DEEDLE DEE!
LOVE YOU! SMOOCHIES! DEEDLE DEE!
happy birthday to my great big five-year-old!
oh, atticus. what would i ever do without you? who would i even be? you made me a mom; you got me started in this crazytown adventure park of mothering.
i know i'm not great at it. i know you know i'm not great at it. but you have such a heart to obey and serve, even though you know how badly i screw things up. you're so gracious with me.
what can i say that sums you up? you're such a helper. you look for opportunities to lighten my load. you are (usually) affectionate with your siblings. you like to enforce the rules, even when it's not necessarily your job to do so. you're silly. you're quiet. you are too observant to be impulsive. you love sweets. you willingly eat vegetables. you requested pasta alfredo, of all things, for your birthday dinner. your best friend is your sister, and you're usually really considerate and kind to her. (it's a two-way street, right?) you are so gentle and sweet to laurelai. you want to be a 'construction guy' when you grow up. you love to dance and sing. you like wrestling with your dad. all your jeans are too short. you love jesus, which makes me happier than anything else ever could.
nothing you will ever do will make me love you more than i do now. nothing you will ever do will make me love you less than i do now. you're perfect for me and i wouldn't trade you for anything, ever.
love you, darlin'! happy golden birthday!
i know i'm not great at it. i know you know i'm not great at it. but you have such a heart to obey and serve, even though you know how badly i screw things up. you're so gracious with me.
what can i say that sums you up? you're such a helper. you look for opportunities to lighten my load. you are (usually) affectionate with your siblings. you like to enforce the rules, even when it's not necessarily your job to do so. you're silly. you're quiet. you are too observant to be impulsive. you love sweets. you willingly eat vegetables. you requested pasta alfredo, of all things, for your birthday dinner. your best friend is your sister, and you're usually really considerate and kind to her. (it's a two-way street, right?) you are so gentle and sweet to laurelai. you want to be a 'construction guy' when you grow up. you love to dance and sing. you like wrestling with your dad. all your jeans are too short. you love jesus, which makes me happier than anything else ever could.
nothing you will ever do will make me love you more than i do now. nothing you will ever do will make me love you less than i do now. you're perfect for me and i wouldn't trade you for anything, ever.
love you, darlin'! happy golden birthday!
we need to talk.
oh, y'all. the holiday season is upon us. and i am finding myself gasping for breath. which means i'm going to have to bow out of this whole 'regimented blogging' thing for a while - i'll still post occasionally throughout the week, and will likely be pretty regular about posting our weekly happenings on fridays.
but until january, let's just be aquaintances, okay? can it be more like we're casual dating than going steady? i just need a little space right now. i promise, it's not you, it's christmas. i hope we can still be friends.
see ya round!
(this post reminds me: at some point i'll have to tell you about that one time i broke up with a high school boyfriend and he threw a pizza at me in retaliation. actually, i guess i don't have to tell you later; that pretty much sums up the whole saga.)
but until january, let's just be aquaintances, okay? can it be more like we're casual dating than going steady? i just need a little space right now. i promise, it's not you, it's christmas. i hope we can still be friends.
see ya round!
(this post reminds me: at some point i'll have to tell you about that one time i broke up with a high school boyfriend and he threw a pizza at me in retaliation. actually, i guess i don't have to tell you later; that pretty much sums up the whole saga.)
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