I wish I could come here and say I’ve had 1,000 posts worth of wit and wonder for you to enjoy. Honestly, when I think that I’ve got 1,000 posts on here all I can do is think about all the time spent creating them and where that time could have otherwise gone. But when one is a process thinker who processes best by writing, I suppose 1,000 posts worth of processing isn’t necessarily time wasted (though that point could certainly be argued).

I’ve never acknowledged a “this is my ____th post,” so to make up for that, I thought I’d list 1,000 things about myself.

Had you going there for a second, didn’t I? Okay, so I’m not going to do that. Instead I’ll leave you with my philosophy of blogging.

Had you going there again, didn’t I? I don’t really have a genre blog, so I’m not sure I can leave you with a defined philosophy of blogging. I think if I had a philosophy of blogging, then I’d probably rebel against it anyway, so it’s better not to develop one.

I still wonder how long this gig is going to last, but I guess I’ll keep playing it until it no longer suits. Thanks for joining me through my process of learning by living. I’ve still got a long way to go.

I go through seasons when I’m more disciplined in certain areas than others. Sometimes I go through seasons when I’m disciplined in everything all at once (this is rare), and other times I go through seasons when I’m disciplined in nothing at all (this is sadly more common than I care to admit).

The past two months I haven’t exactly kept careful accounting of our finances. When life gets nuts, record keeping is the first thing to go, closely followed by all resolve not to eat my weight in chocolate-covered pretzels. Or maybe it’s the other way around. I don’t know.

Anyway, last week I balanced the checkbook. This was a bigger task than it sounds because I never got around to balancing it in April and here we are in the second half of May already. We had a larger-than-normal amount of unplanned for/unbudgeted expenses come up that were necessary (earnest money, anyone?). So when I’ve not been keeping careful records and I know of several extra expenses that have come up, it makes me tense because I’m not really sure where the bank is going to land when it’s all said and done.

Amazingly (or providentially, depending upon your worldview - I’ll take both, thank you), we also had a goofy amount of extra income (economic stimulus plan, anyone?). When I got the numbers up to date, we were exactly where we should be to enter into the second half of May after a full paycheck for Craig. I know - it was totally the Lord.

So, up to date and fully aware that it was a miracle that I didn’t bounce anything this month, I resolved to do a better job sticking to the grocery budget. This is where I get all smart like this and where you say, “It took her 11 years to figure this out? And why am I reading this goofy blog again?”

I’ve always been a stockpile shopper; that is, I find the good deals and buy a lot of them. And in doing so, I almost always go over our budget because the good deals I find aren’t always what we need right now, so what we need right now also gets purchased along with the stockpile of good deals.

This month I came up with a new plan: I took the allotted grocery money and divided it up into four weeks. I then found the one store with the best deals, located the appropriate coupons, and went to the store knowing I had only one-fourth of the month’s budget to spend. My goal was this: buy enough milk, cereal, fruit, lunch, and dinner items to last us seven days, then get as many good deals as possible with the leftovers of that fourth of the budget.

You want to know why this was so amazing? Because in the past when I stockpiled at the beginning of the month, I usually bought enough milk, cereal, lunch, and fruit to last only one week anyway, with the rest of the month’s budget getting swallowed up on other stuff. Now I know I can go to the store again on Thursday and replenish those things without overspending the budget. Also, I made it pretty clear to everyone that the milk I bought had to last one whole week and if we ran out of anything we needed before the next Thursday, we would just need to do without it until then.

Everyone got this. They understood the need to ration things, and knowing the stretch point was only seven days instead of thirty made it easy to do so. By George, I think I’ve finally got it.

Is it any coincidence that the clearing of my perspective and rationale is happening during our last week of school? I don’t think so.

I don’t think so.

When we decided to make an offer on the house last week, I completely fixated on all the negatives: it needs a complete kitchen and bathroom overhaul; it needs new windows; it needs A/C or some kind of cooling system installed; it needs a new garage door and a major landscaping plucking. Big things there to fixate on.

After placing the offer and imagining us living there, I swung the complete other direction and drooled over all the positives: there’s a third floor attic that can be turned into a fabulous room one day; there’s a full unfinished basement with level floors and high ceilings which could also be turned into an amazing guest space one day; the house has a laundry chute from the second floor to the basement (I have *always* wanted a house with a laundry chute); there is an amazing study with a walk-out porch on the second floor too, so Craig could finally have a real office to write in; the house is across the street from good friends (two sets of them!) and is within walking distance from other good friends.

I think the friends thing is what I will be most disappointed about if, when it’s all said and done, we end up not getting to live there. Oh, and the laundry chute - I’m going to be seriously disappointed by not getting to have the laundry chute.

When the bank turned this into a game of real estate roulette, I lost my nervous edge. I’m not worried anymore. It really might not happen, but I’m honestly not devastated by that. So, as I said before, the list price was X. We offered 40 below X and they came back with 22 above X. Then we offered 30 below X and they offered 12 above X. We said, “No thanks,” but told them our offer was still on the table should they change their minds.

And now we wait. This is what usually makes me crazy in a short-tempered, frazzled, get-lost-while-driving sort of way. But I’ve had one of the most seemingly cliche verses* popping into my head for the past week. What you need to understand is that I don’t lean toward the cliche very often, nor do random verses I memorized decades ago come popping into my head at random times very often. But in this case, I’m very glad it keeps popping into my head. I need to hear it and, hearing it, I need to believe it. God does know the plans He has for us. He’s declared it. His plans will prosper us and not harm us. His plans will bring us a future and a hope. And His plans could very well include this house we’ve prayed for, or could mean staying exactly where we are. I’m okay with it either way. I wasn’t last week. So this is the growth of forced patience and while not something I seek, is something I’m glad for.

God knows we desire to do good things with the bigger space. He also knows we’re capable of doing good things in the space He’s already provided. The question I’ve had to answer is do I know that? I think now I finally do.

*By cliche, I only mean that it gets used over and over and over to the point that it seems to lose its meaning. I’m sure I’m the only one who has experienced this, so please don’t be offended that I called a Bible verse cliche. Of course it’s not. It’s the people who use it who tend to be. Sometimes. I’m done now.

Eleven years or so ago we were in the wedding season of life with all of our friends. Shortly after this, we entered baby season. We are now currently in graduation season, which isn’t difficult to understand given that we’re in seminary and Craig’s a high school teacher.

My brother-in-law graduated with his D. Min today in Kansas City (congratulations, Spencer!). We were going to go, but the girls have their end-of-the-year choir performance tomorrow afternoon and we couldn’t swing the drive time. So, since we ended up being home, we were able to make it to the first graduation (Covenant’s) and first two graduation parties of the season. Both parties were ones we wanted to go to and enjoyed being at, but both wore us down in the introvert department. Still, they were fun and we’re glad we went (congrats, Mitchell; congrats, Rob and Claudia).

After the 80’s party tonight, I needed to turn around and take the babysitter home. She lives in one of the many surrounding St. Louis County townships that I’m not familiar with and, after dropping her off, I got badly turned around and could not figure out which direction was which. The car was almost out of gas and I was somewhere unfamiliar in the dark with no idea which way I should be headed. And I was dressed just like 1986.

I had a moment’s hesitation upon pulling into the gas station. I mean, I had to get out of the car and everything. While filling up, I realized that I could probably go inside and ask for directions to the interstate. And then I looked down and saw this:

I remembered how much purple eye shadow I put on and how frizzy my hair was and I had yet another moment’s hesitation before I took the plunge and walked into the gas station to ask for directions. Either that gas station lady has seen it all already or was just too bored to care. She was very nice, looked me right in the eyes as she gave me clear directions to I-170, and wished me well on my way out the door. I was so grateful to be pointed in the right direction, I no longer cared what I looked like walking back to the car.

Craig will attend Westminster’s graduation on Monday, and we will all go to Wildwood’s next Saturday. Then two more parties and that should wrap up graduation season for this year.

Now then, time to scrub off the purple and the glitter and go to bed. Night!

We’re going to a graduation party on Saturday night for these tired finished wiped out totally brilliant seminarians. Dude, it’s like totally an 80’s party.

I had an 80’s party for Craig when he turned 30. He Who Will Not Be Surprised totally was, and it was a really fun party. We had some 65 people crammed into our small house and it was everything I imagined an 80’s house party to be like because, you see, I never went to an 80’s house party. I was too busy wearing Laura Ingalls jumpers and listening to Keith Green on my cassette tape player.

But being a homeschool-wannabe then didn’t mean I was totally exempt from all the amazing fashion of the 80’s. Despite my fundamentalist roots, I was a firm believer in the big bang; and Keds with colored socks; and jellies; and big round glasses; and a frizzy perm I tried to bring back two years ago, but then realized there was a reason it died in the 80’s.

All that to say that we can do 80’s. But I was worried about this party because I haven’t given it much thought yet (other than that I needed to find a babysitter). Where does one find a banana clip this late in the game?

So, while I was upstairs sewing and stewing over important things such as which shade of blue eye shadow to wear and where I might locate some big dangly earrings to dangle, the gray clouds parted and the sun began shining right into my 10:25pm bedroom. We have Craig’s letter jacket in the trunk in the living room. Oh yes we do. My wardrobe problems for Saturday night are officially over.

I think this, paired with a denim mini-skirt, will do very nicely.

By the way, Woottons, congratulations. Well done!

First the good: I cleaned off my desk tonight.

Now the bad: Everything that was on my desk is now on the table.

In other news, we heard back from the bank today. This process is going to take a while as they aren’t playing fair. They had the price of X listed on the house. We offered a substantial amount below X. They countered with a substantial amount above X. I didn’t even know it ever worked that way. They are smoking something if they think we’re biting on that bait and switch. We can’t afford X, let alone 30K above X. Craig is optimistic, though, and he’s ready to fight. I’m more in a pit of despair which manifests itself by cleaning, thus the desk shot above. Me in despair might be good for our house for a few days, but not for me for very long.

I’m not even sure why I’m this disappointed. Two weeks ago we hadn’t even thought about moving. We’re in a great rental in a great neighborhood and if we end up staying here it’s totally fine. Someone remind me of that, please.

Now then, back to my desk. I don’t know why I can’t keep this area clear. I have a piling disease. Anyone make a pill for that?

If patience is a virtue, I guess that means bad things for me. I can be and do many things. Being patient is not exactly at the top of that list.

Yesterday wasn’t so bad. I knew there was a chance I wouldn’t hear about either of the two things that are the Big Things of the Week yesterday. We had a very full school day which took my mind off of everything and all of us were away from the house last night doing various things (older girls had a choir dress rehearsal, the youngers and I went to a homeschool meeting because I needed to pick up our free Six Flags tickets for this year). So I didn’t think about things too much and even when getting home at 9:30 and hearing that we wouldn’t hear wasn’t too much of a disappointment.

Today things are different. We’ve not had as much school work to do and so I’ve been stopping by my computer every 12 minutes or so to see if there’s been any news. Oh, who am I kidding, I check in about every 9 minutes.

The rational side of me says I might not hear anything today either and I need to live today. I need to do laundry, take the girls to piano, finish my 500 verse pack order for Eagle Lake, live.

The irrational side of me can’t figure out why the world hasn’t stopped until we’ve heard what we need to hear.

We may need to leave the house soon just so I can walk away from the computer for a few hours.

…no news.

Fortunately for me I’d been prepped by two different people that banks can drag their feet on these things. It is really different than buying a house from an actual family. So the bank didn’t move today. According to the realtor, this could be good or bad, but I’ll just take it as what it’s supposed to be and maybe pop some sedatives tonight so I can actually sleep.

Thanks for praying. I’ll keep you updated.

…and also evidences itself by large butterflies playing volleyball in one’s stomach by which said someone who  normally could sleep until 7:30 with very little persuasion pops her eyes open, wide awake at 6:25.

We should hear something by dinnertime tonight. Getting meaningful work done today could be a joke.

We would love it if you would pray on our behalf today. We need the bank to look at our offer as a reasonable one and be willing to let the house go for what we asked.

Crazy week #1 has come to an end. The schedule was goofy with Craig and me slapping hands while saying, “Tag!” on our way to and from one thing to the other.

The girls had their ballet recital on Saturday, and it was fun to see their year of work in action. We’d pretty much decided not to participate in that program again next year before Saturday night came for a variety of reasons, namely that the girls complained more often than not when it came time to go to practice each week. That combined with outrageously-priced costumes (each girl needed two!) and my own hesitation at the costume styles in general pointed us in that direction. Saturday night was fun, though. The girls enjoyed it, they did look pretty cute up there in their costumes, and they surprised me by what they retained from the year.

On top of all the crazy May schedule stuff, we decided to add some vinegar to our baking soda mixture by considering making an offer on a house. I know, it’s crazy - we weren’t even thinking about it this time last week and 7 days later here we are. I’m trying to keep my expectations low and my hopes down because the house is a foreclosure and we’re making a low offer on it which the bank might mark with their “loonies” stamp and send right back to us. Just trying to prepare my heart, that’s all. We should find out something by Tuesday night. I’m hopeful. And nervous.

Also last week, while juggling dancing children and a house possibility, I went through three nights of director’s training for Classical Conversations. I’m hoping our group can meet at my church this year, but there might be a technical glitch that prevents that from happening. The session meets on Tuesday night. I’m hopeful. And nervous.

So that’s the theme for this week: hopeful and nervous. Sure makes sleeping difficult.

I awoke to the gift of poetry from my 9 year old. I thought I would share:

Ode to Mom
My mom is sweet
She makes bread with wheat.
She drives a red van
Mom is also a baseball fan.
Mom home schools us
But, she doesn’t ride a school bus.
She sometimes takes us shopping
We are wild, like a rabbit hopping.
Mom is so nice
She doesn’t like mice.
Mom is so kind
My love and her love bind.
She lives in _____wood
When I fight she always understood.
I call myself lucky, as lucky can be
My mom is so special as special times three.

and then this one:

Another Ode to Mom
Mom loves to read
Most times she’s in the lead.
I love her a lot
Her heart is 1,000 times bigger than a dot.
She is really, really good
Her house has a chimney but no firewood.
If I could give her something, something I would
I hope to give her something if I could.
She sings like an angel
Which is really, really sweet
I love her a lot. And she cooks great meat.

Sometimes love is blind. And grace covers a multitude of relational sin. Amen. Amen again.

Happy Mother’s Day

Hey Jenny,

I volunteered to come up with a fun game to be played by several medium
sized groups of children outdoors next week because I should have a
store of these stockpiled in my brain due to being at Eagle Lake for ten
years. Right? My problem is that I repressed all that stuff and the only
thing I can think of is dizzy bat and the game where the PCs stuck
funnels down their shorts standing in buckets while the kids ran back
and forth pouring water down the funnels to see how much ended up in the
buckets.

Weird, right?

I was hoping you might have a few better memories than me. Can you
think of anything fun that doesn’t involve spinning around upside
down on a bat or stuffing funnels in anyone’s shorts?

Thought I’d ask…

Megan

I’m calling a time out here. Don’t know for how long, could be 5 days, could be 5 minutes, but as I’ve had nothing interesting to write about lately, I’m not going to write about nothing interesting right now.

See you later when I find some words again!

I had a roommate in college who would keep crazy hours, which included her boyfriend in our room until way past curfew. I could sleep through anything. Lights on? No big deal. Two people talking? Not interested. Printer smoking? Not my problem. I could sleep through it all.

So what happened? It’s only been 11 years, yet everything has changed. We live on a city street that, while noticeably busy during rush hours, doesn’t seem too bad the rest of the day. - except that really it is, and the sound of cars driving past at random intervals drives me crazy. I can deal with this okay in the winter, but now that it is the season for open windows, this noise thing is becoming a real problem.

Solution one is to simply leave the windows closed. And broil alive while we sleep (or attempt to).

Solution two is to open the blinds and put a box fan in the window, thereby masking the traffic noise. My problem with that is that I sleep facing that window which introduces my second sleep intolerance issue: store lights. We live right across the street from a Walgreens (really, every one here in St. Louis does - they are everywhere). Don’t get me wrong - I love having my own personal vending machine right across the street, but cannot for the sake of anything fall asleep with that red glow on my eyelids.

Which brings me to solution number three: sleeping in the basement. This seems like a fairly logical solution - it’s cool and quiet and the Walgreens glow does not penetrate. But we had a major bug issue in the basement last summer and I have a good memory.

So solution number four would be what then? Holiday Inn?

All this to say that here I am, exhausted from the first of many Maydays, and worried about not being able to fall asleep. And sort of wishing for winter to come back already.

Both, actually. We’ve officially entered the month where, in years past, the girls and I would begin tapering off of the school routine, playing a lot more, and relaxing. As we’re still on the schedule for the two-day/week school, we still have three weeks to go. Three weeks full-steam ahead. Mayday, Mayday!

Other signs of May for us include extra rehearsals/practices for everything we’re involved in, making the evenings a really fun time to navigate and bringing a whole new meaning to playing “parenting tag” with Craig. Usually everything has a once a week practice/rehearsal, or in the case of school, twice each week. Here are our next three weeks:

• This week: school, ballet, choir, school, choir, ballet, ballet recital - ballet done!
• Next week: school, choir, school, choir, choir performance - choir done!
• Third week: school, school performance, school, school picnic - school done!

Also sandwiched in here are three phone conferences for Classical Conversations (I’m starting a group for next year, so I have to go through training), a third-of-a-semester’s worth of Ancient and Medieval Church History for Craig, three graduations to attend, two graduation parties, and the possibility of a whole family check-in to the local psych ward.

To say I’m giddy about four weeks from now is a serious understatement. We just have to tuck our heads and run through the next three weeks to get there. Wish us luck.