Big Girl Woes

So this week has pretty much been a rotten week. It has been filled with tension and conflict. Feelings have been squashed, lines have been drawn in the linoleum, and eyes have been set to glare mode. Not a beautiful day in the neighborhood to say the least. And I have hated every minute of it. Go ahead, ask Steve. He will tell you that I really do detest conflict. I try and avoid it at all costs. But this week was different. Although the tensions and conflicts were not involving me directly, I had to step in and complete two tasks that required putting on the proverbial big girl panties. And you know what comes with big girl panties? A big girl wedgie. I hate that uncomfortable feeling of awkwardness that follows asserting yourself in unpleasant situations.
Sigh….. What a week! I would like to tell you that the whole time I asked myself, "What would Jesus do?" Instead I found myself asking what my grandmother would do. She died 30 years ago this week. I miss her. I remember her being wonderfully patient and kind towards others. But at the same time, I also remember getting a stinger of a reminder on the backside to never sass and never, ever under any circumstances turn on the oven to make Shrinky Dinks without her permission. A wonderfully kind woman, my grandmother, but I really don't think that shrinking violet would describe her. (She once painted a gigantic smiley face on the outside of her garage door!) And I don't think she would have been too happy with me had I just kept my mouth shut and let things slide. A big girl’s gotta to do what a big girl’s gotta do and that means standing up for what is right… even if you just want to sit right back down, hide your face, change your name to Blanche Mushrush and move to Coeur d'Alene, Idaho.
I am happy to report that I made it through this current drama with my face uncovered, my name unchanged and current residence still intact. Have I learned something about myself this week? You bet. I’ve learned that next time I’m going straight for the big guns… the Granny Panties.

With friends like these….

Steve and I are totally blessed to have friendships with couples who consistently model what it means to be in a strong marriage. One of our favorite couples goes to church with us and has children roughly the same age as ours. They are a hoot. 24/7. It never fails, whenever we get together, our sides are going to hurt the next day from laughing so much. Take the time we decided to make a trip to Birmingham for some cheesecake and ended up picking out the caskets of our dreams (or urns as was the case with one member of our party).
My sister and I had a chance to chat about friends who bless our lives at a recent birthday party. She had just come back into town after spending the day with her husband’s side of the family. I remarked that she looked so calm, cool and collected. (She is the mom of a red headed two-year-old.) Her lipstick was expertly applied and not a hair out of place. Now my sister is very pretty no matter what, but that day she just looked extra serene… too serene ( I did mention that she has a two-year-old, right?!) So I did the sisterly thing and asked her if she was sedated. After assuring me she was just fine, thank you very much, (insert eye rolling here) she filled me in on why she looked like she was ready for a photo shoot. You see, they had been visiting friends of friends when she sat down in a chair that is normally occupied by the family dog. Apparently the dog loves this chair as much as Archie Bunker loves his. Except this dog did not feel the need to read the newspaper in his own private “library”. He thought, “Hey, why move to do my business when I can just sit here?” I guess this family did not feel the urge to fill my sister in on where she had planted herself for the afternoon… in 145 degree weather… in shorts. It wasn’t until they were headed back to their home a good hour and a half away that she discovered the Eau de Awful that had permeated her skin. After a very long, very hot shower and a do-it yourself micro peel, she felt like she was fit to be around those of us with noses. Bless her heart. That was just outright tacky of those folks not tell Sister that she was sitting on Bowser’s throne. I think a trip to Birmingham for cheesecake is in order for her. And if that doesn’t cheer her up, then I will swing by the coffin wholesaler and let her shop for when she drops. Hey, that’s what true friends do.

Okie Dokie Artichokie

Steve and I are suckers. Well, okay, maybe me just a little bit more than him, but it is hard for us to say the word “no”, especially when it comes to church and especially when it comes to one music minister in particular who shall remain nameless. Yesterday, my big ol’ mouth formed the word yes when I was asked to direct the Christmas Drama for church. No sooner had I uttered the “Y” word when that nasty, stinkin’ Satan started throwing a hissy fit in my brain. The nerve of that devil, after a wonderful sermon on pride and all. Well, he got me, but only for an afternoon.
You see, for the past two months, Steve and I have been praying for a ministry to get involved in. We had been very heavily involved with leading little people in worship for the past 8 years, and felt God tugging at our hearts to head back to “Big Church” and serve there. Now, in our hearts and minds, that included things like delivering flowers to shut-ins and preparing communion elements. Heck, we weren’t about to become pew potatoes and just sit there. We were ready to serve. Quietly…Behind the scenes…Preferably once a month. The even ones would fit nicely with our schedule. HA! That is not quite what God has had in mind. Oh no, uh-uh. Since we have left little people worship (I use that term with the utmost respect. It is the hardest ((they smell fear))and most rewarding ((their rib-crushing hugs are the best!)) job you’ll ever have.), God has called me to serve in VBS, be a lay director for a Chrysalis Flight, and totally change jobs from serving 52 fourth graders a year to serving 527 pre-k through 5th graders each week, and now this. Steve has been serving right by my side every single minute. When you ask one of us, you are going to get both of us and more than likely, our off-spring, too. Sort of like a buy 1, get 3 free kind of deal we have going on here.
Anyway, I digress. Serving quietly behind the scenes, my foot. And that my 4 blog-followers, is where Satan got me. He got me good. That rotten, slitherin’ snake can drive you to forget your Sunday School words, I tell you what. But after the “what in the blankety-blank were you thinking?” and “who are you freakin’ kidding”… moments passed, I was okay. God wants us to serve Him with a glad heart. I’m glad I said yes. I’m glad I live in a country where I am free to serve. I’m glad that I have a husband who will gladly serve right along side of me. No, I might not be the most gifted and talented director on the block, and I really hope that people don’t slap their hand to their foreheads bemoaning the fact they could have had a V-8 by the time it’s all said and done. But I have been given an opportunity to serve with my husband and partner in crime. And I am glad that I didn’t just say yes to the music minister, but Okie Dokie to God.

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

I spent Saturday morning scrubbing the grout in our bathroom. I really wanted to wait until the mildew at least spelled the word “help”, but we were at h-e-l, and I feared what the next letter might be. So I scrubbed with bleach… with Steve’s toothbrush. Our daughter, who is a born neatnic, walked into the bathroom and said, “Oh, Momma! I just LOVE that smell! It smells like love and clean houses.”
I know what you are thinking, and yes, she really is our child. (And if you were thinking about Steve’s toothbrush, don’t worry; he got a new one that afternoon.) She has always gravitated to the neater things in life. We went to Atlanta last year and went shopping at the Container Store. She was in heaven. Did you know that they make organizers to organize the organizers? And colorful labels to label the label maker? Good times, I tell you. For her anyway.
Now don’t get me wrong and before you go dialing DHR, let me tell you: I do appreciate walking into a clean house. I like the beds made, dishes out of the sink and a reasonable sense of order. I am just not a deep cleaner. Word has spread to the dust bunnies that they won’t be evicted anytime soon. But I am house-proud enough to have made a compact with my friend Molly that when I kick the bucket, she is to by-pass the funeral home and get herself over to our house lickety split. She has to get there ahead of the United Methodist-casserole-carrying-sweet-saints that always show up in the event of a death. Her job is to speed clean the house and relocate the mountain of dirty laundry I will have undoubtedly left behind. I have sworn that I will do the same for her, should she be stricken first.
Steve and I are equally yoked in this area of our lives. He hates to do laundry as much as I do. We will talk about doing the laundry, even be so bold as to put it on our to-do list (in red ink mind you!), cast furtive glances at it as we casually toss another pair of socks on the pile. But somehow, it just never seems to take precedence over whatever it is that we have deemed a top priority at that moment. That’s where our daughter’s cleaning obsession bails us out. Hey, you do what you have to do for the kids.
I was waiting to pay my weekly cover charge at the grocery store yesterday when I read that Jennifer Anniston was quoted as saying she doesn’t need a husband to have a baby. That is just so, so, so very sad on so many different levels. I mean after all, whose toothbrush is she going to use when her grout gets dirty?

A Cord of Three Strands

Recently, our teenage son came into the kitchen for an hourly feeding. He caught us in mid-smooch. Groans and "That's soooooo disgusting!" comments were made. Still embracing me, my husband looked him dead in the eyes and said, "Son, you'd better be glad that your mom and I kiss. There are lots of kids out there that wish their parents were together. You are blessed with two parents in the same house that love you, care about you and when needed, light a double burner under your tail to get you moving in the right direction." Wow! My husband is a wise man. That encounter sparked a conversation that in turn led us to this blog about our marriage, life with a teenager and his sister, who is still young enough to be considered angelic.

We are a fun-loving couple that loves to travel and spend lots of time with friends and family. We love the Lord! We believe that we have been given this gift of marriage and we want to honor God by nurturing and caring for our relationship by keeping God at the center of everything that we do. "Our" verse is Ecclesiastes 4:12 "Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken."

We named our blog The Kissin' Couple because it was that kitchen kiss that led us to this spot. Come follow us as we take this journey through life hand in hand, heart to heart, and a kiss or two along the way!