an alternate ending

Disclaimer. If you have never watched the movie Tangled, then do not read this post. It's a spoiler. Never mind the fact that the movie is like a year old.

Ahem. This means YOU katygirl.

I was wandering through the woods the other day and happened upon this flower.

Which in turn made me think about Rapunzel.

A lot of people did not like the way Rapunzel looked with short dark brown hair at the end of the movie. Personally, I still think she looked cute...in an anime grunge sort of way.

But I get it. They liked her long golden hair.

So.

I think I should write Disney with this alternate ending...

Eugene should have cut Rapunzel's hair below her shoulders and then Rapunzel could go and get some highlights. If she felt so inclined.

These are the things I think about at night.

little joseph

I had a horrid sinus infection for 3 weeks straight that left me completely debilitated. I basically sat on my couch and cried because I could barely watch my kids.

So that's why no blogging lately. I figured you did not want to hear about all the various shades of snot....

So I'm totally behind on life. And pretty overwhelmed by it all. I'm just kind of pathetic lately and can't seem to do much without falling apart.

But my sinuses have been much more manageable lately and I have been feeling much better, so I am so very very thankful to the Lord.

And it's a good thing, because I got better just in time to finish planning a very special baby shower. I will have to tell you more about that later.

In the meanwhile, let's talk about something else.

Tonight at Cubbies was "dress up as a bible character" night.

I just so happened to have a colorful striped button down shirt. Remember it from my Hume pics? Looks just like a coat of many colors.

Well, I put this 'coat of many colors' on Ollie, so he could be Joseph.

In case you cannot tell, he was pretty ticked about being Joseph.

In fact, he whined and complained incessantly that we was NOT Joseph and insisted that he was a kitty.

Ollie and Twain are obsessed with orange kitties. They are going to be kitties for Halloween. When I was sick as a dog with my sinus infection, I found these "kitty" costumes at Target for them.

Target did have real kitty costumes. But they were black. And my boys like orange kitties.

I figured they would not notice that they were cheetahs.

Hey.

I was sick.

And my mom once put stuffed white tights on my head as a kid and called me a bunny. Fair is fair.

Anyhow, I bribed Ollie with treats to be Joseph for the night, because I think he looked cute.

That's much better Ollie. Smiling for mama.



My sweet little Joseph.

eating my words

For the last few years, I have been using my pink flip-top razor cell phone with PRIDE.

I distinctly remember a friend once scoffing, "My 8-year old has a nicer phone than you do!"

Which made me feel even more pleased my ancient relic of a phone.

"Why, we could be in a museum!", I'd tell my phone.

Because I'm a bit of a dinosaur too, I suppose. If it were not for John, I would still be using a typewriter rather than a computer. I did not even learn to use email til I was in college, when my prof forced me to.

And texting? Oi.

My friends are lucky if they get much of a response at all from me. They will text me looooong messages, to which I'd respond with a short "ok!" or "sound good!" if I was feeling extra fancy. Because with the razor, you have to punch the button 3 or 4 times to get to the right letter.

Yet still, I defended my razor with everything in me.

Poor phone froze every time I tried to take a picture. I would just pop out the battery, put it back in, and turn the phone back on to revive it.

It would run out of batteries pretty quickly, cut out during conversations and even freeze if someone sent a message that was too high-tech, ha.

My friends would always tell me it was time to update.

Of course, I refused.

Until the other day, John resolutely informed me. "I am updating our razors to iphones. It's only $30 more per month."

"But honey", I said, "we don't need to spend our money on that! What a waste! I'm just fine with my razor".

"Ok you can keep your old razor, but I'm updating to an iphone. I am getting the new iphone 4. If you want, you can get the older iphone 3 for free."

Hm. Free? Hm...

See ya later razor!

A day or 2 later, Mr. Fed Ex man came by and made me sign for a package. "It's a phone!" he said.

"Oh." I replied and dumped the box on John's desk.

I did not open the box. I figured it was John's phone.

When John got home, he opened the box.

"Your phone is here!" he announced.

"Oh" and I went along my merry way. To myself I snickered, "Poor John. He wanted the phone much more than I did...and mine came first."

I went about my business for the rest of the day.

"Aren't you curious about your phone?" John asked, playing with it.

"Not really", I replied.

As a matter of fact, it did not even register the faintest "blip" on my radar of things of importance that day. I could not care less.

John started asking me what type of cover I wanted for my phone, as he surfed the web for options.

Sigh. Do I have to look?

"I don't care...something yellow maybe?" But the yellow was too bright. "Don't they have anything vintage?", I asked.

"You want a vintage iphone?" John mocked. Actually? Yes. Yes I did.

I settled on a pretty green-ish blue case and face-booked this remarkable landmark decision. Because that is what fb is for. And had this conversation with one of my dearest darlings.

Lisa showed me the DIY cross stitch case.

Oh me likey!

Sadly, it only works for the iphone 4.

"Honey, do you want to trade your iphone 4 for my iphone 3 so I can get this cross-stitch case?" I asked politely.

To which he politely replied, "no thank you!"

As I crawled into bed that night, John handed me my iphone, all set to the Rapunzel soundtrack.

Ahhhh. John knows me too well. I instantly perked up, as the music played.

I started pushing buttons and sliding gizmos. John even synched our calenders.

SEE? We are having Spagetti for dinner tonight!!!!!

I was 100% completely sold. {Even though Lorie previously told me how nice it was to have a calender...I immediatly shot her down, of course.}

So. To each and every one of you who tried to convince me of the iphone. I was WRONG. You were RIGHT. I am eating my words. Humble pie never tasted so delicious. I heart my new iphone. It's like a little piece of candy and it's magical. I can say without any reservation whatsoever that I never ever want to go back to my razor.

Yes, I'm fickle like that.

Kinda like how I said, "I'm not gonna cave to the Missoni conspiracy at Target! Hmph!"

But how cute is this box? So cute. I had a little gift card to Target and could not resist picking up this little number. It fits my camera perfectly.

And I cannot WAIT to get to use my iphone camera just like ya'll do when updating facebook status straight from Disneyland. If I can ever figure out something like that.

**********

And on a completely random note...Finn likes to wildly push a madly grinning Twain in this honkin' dump truck.

The other night, Finn fastened Twain with this nifty seatbelt...

Furthermore, for extra safety it has a 2-point safety harness.

Just thought I'd share.

And now, it's almost time to make some spagetti.

He really does speak.

Every Tuesday, Finn and I go to an after-school reading program on the other side of town.

For the last few weeks, we have steadily learned new names, faces and smiles.

We were starting to settle into a {somewhat}familiar routine.

Reading books with kids; helping with homework; playing games or doing crafts. One time I even got to do a Bible story of Joseph on learning to forgive. Because fights tend to break out quite a bit...usually between the alpha males in the group; little Juan cries because someone took his snack; it's always something. Always a bit unpredictable, but nonetheless par for the course.

And each Tuesday, I eagerly anticipate seeing a little girl named Brianna. She is the sweetest, happiest thing ever. We instantly clicked and she has carved out a special place in my heart.

Brianna lives with her grandma, and her mother is not part of the picture.

This just breaks my heart and I have been trying to be a part of her life, however the Lord allows.

Yesterday was gonna be the start of something special. I was granted the privilege of taking Brianna out to eat, after the program let out.

I was really excited, but cautiously so...I have learned the importance of being flexible. Plans tend to change on a dime round these parts. Last week I was supposed to go to her house, but Grandma changed her mind at the last minute, because she was embarrassed of her house. Brianna was crushed.

But I trusted God's hand. If it was meant to be...it would happen.

Anyhow, we were all at the reading program and the day was humming along...Juan was crying over a granola bar...my mom even came with me and was busy whipping a bunch of jr high boys into shape...when all of a sudden, two new girls walked through the front door.

They were pushing a baby in a stroller. This was a common sight. Little girls around this neighborhood FREQUENTLY watch their baby brothers and sisters, and tote them around wherever they go.

A baby bottle full of red punch dropped to the floor.

"Honey, is this your baby brother?", we asked.

The smaller of the two girls looked down nervously and quietly said "It's my baby".

We were all kind of shocked. She looked so young. And small. And tiny. Much too young to be a mother.

We looked at the birth date on her paperwork. She was 13. Her baby was one. Do the math. It was extremely probable. But still so surprising. She looked like she was only 11! I noticed she was small everywhere but had a little pouch for a belly. It finally hit us. She was indeed the mama.

I grabbed her baby boy out of the stroller, determined to give this young mama a break from the responsibility of a baby for a spell. Her baby boy has the biggest brown eyes and the cutest mop of curls spilling down his forehead.

I placed the baby on my hip and walked around for a bit.

It was not long before I noticed that my hip was soaking wet.

"Do you have a diaper?" I asked the young mom.

"Uh...no..." she stammered, as she looked through her stroller.

I asked my friend Heather for a diaper and she rushed out to her car to get some diapers and wipes.

After finding a decent spot to change a diaper, I plopped the baby on a table and helped the girls with the sopping wet diaper.

Much to my shock, the baby has a massive umbilical hernia. And a poopy diaper that looked like it had not been changed in quite a while.

By now I am fighting back tears. This was overwhelming.

The diaper got out of control as we fumbled and fussed our way through it. By the end, there was poop and pee everywhere, and I quickly rushed the diaper to the trash and washed my hands.

By now my head is spinning. My simple Tuesday was turning quite complex as I pondered the gravity of the situation.

A little girl taking care of a baby.

Baby boy happily walked around the place, barefoot. Completely oblivious.

We asked the tiny mama a bazillion questions. What size shoe? Do you need diapers? What size clothes?

Even though we want to help this girl desperately, we can only help her if she wants help. Only time will tell if she returns. I hope so.

But.

Even though the baby drinks cool-aid,

And walks around in dirty clothes and diapers,

He looked healthy as a horse. She somehow has gotten thus far without us and will not shrivel up and die without us.

But it sure put a huge burden on my heart for the entire day, and I could hardly focus.

Afterward the reading program let out, I got to take Brianna out to MacDonald's. We had a BLAST. She is such a happy bubbly girl considering her situation. I truly wish I could give her the world. But I must not make her grandma feel completely inept.

When I got home, I gave tweetle beetle a huge hug. He is so chubby and happy and I could not help but feel so grateful to be able to raise him proper-like.

As I brushed my teeth at night, something hit me.

I am doing a Bible Study called "Discerning the Voice of God". The basic premise of the study is that God will speak to us if we listen.

And it dawned on me. Just a few days earlier, I had asked the Lord a question. I had just watched a documentary called 180, which was circling the web. It seeks to make people think, regarding the fate of the unborn in our country. I had asked/begged the Lord what exactly he would like me to do regarding this bleak situation. I really had no idea how he would answer me. I just waited.

And I truly believe that he answered me: "Help take care of this young 'unfit' mama and her baby boy, in whatever way you can...if she will take the help."

It was that simple.

I was amazed that God answered so clearly. He really does speak.