Just thinking out loud.

Ever thought about what a powerful thing it is to be able to say "I know Jesus"?   Not just that "I know OF Jesus" but that "I KNOW Jesus".  It's like... "SAAAANTA, I know him! I know him!" except, you know... with Jesus. And in a bit more serious tone maybe.  

And it means not only do I know Him but He also knows me.  

Carey was recently talking about how our church culture sometimes creates this caricature of this person named Jesus, who's so far from what Jesus really is He's unrecognizable.  But He's not that.  He's Jesus.  The King.  The Savior.  The perfect man who walked on earth and went through all the same struggles and all the temptations we face. The man who decided that He loved us enough to go through unspeakable pain.  He died such a humiliating death and all of it was so that we wouldn't have to be separated from Him.       

Good grief.

...Lord, I don't think about or appreciate it enough.  Thank you for seeking me out, for pursuing me when I stray and for forgiving me for the millionth time for the same stupid sin and then going one step further and casting it as far as the east is from the west.   Thank you for knowing me. 

Most of all thank you for letting me know you.  Please help me bring you pleasure, 'cause you are worthy of all I am able to give. I praise your Holy name.

Greetings from Sunshine.

Well friends..  it's been almost three months since I last wrote on this here blog.  You've been sitting around impatient for me to write another post, haven't you?   I know.   I'm sorry.  I'll make it up to you by writing the longest, most boring blog post ever written by any one up to this point in history.  

Actually, I imagine no one has even noticed.  I haven't.  I kinda forgot I had a blog.  But now I have updates about Piper so it has reminded me of why I started doing this in the first place.

The end.  This is awkward.

Anyway, so we've had a terrible last few weeks.  That's a horrible thing to start out with but it's the truth, DANGIT, and I need somebody else to hear about it besides Carey and mama.  

Carey's gotten a new client recently that requires him to be in southern Florida a lot.  Enough that the hospital is letting us just rent a condo instead of a hotel room.   Oh and is it ever a sweet condo, friends and family.  It's on the 14th floor overlooking a harbor and has a view of the sunset on the back porch.   

So because of all this, me and Piper have had to get used to living in two places.  Not so much Carey.  He would be happy anywhere. This is where Piper got her easy going nature from, which is why she has done splendidly.   She travels really well.  Loves to watch Pluto cartoons and wave at me in the mirror on her headrest. It's precious.

Unfortunately, I'm not so precious.  I'm pretty much the biggest brat ever when it comes to any kind of changes.  I get super stressed out and moan and groan over every little inconvenience.  The bad thing is that I know as I'm acting like a 3 year old that I'm acting like a 3 year old and I actually get disgusted with myself but I can't gather up enough self control to stop myself from acting like a crazy person and just calm the heck down.   Which makes me get angrier about the whole situation.   I don't even know exactly why the whole thing has me feeling so stressed out.  I LOVE our set up down there.  It's this great vacation destination for people (also known as retired yankees) and we don't go anywhere without having several people (retired yankee grandparents) stop to talk with Piper.  So basically, it is a super friendly place and it's hard to feel lonely.   Also, mama and daddy have come down pretty much every time me and Piper are there. And now even Gable has been asigned to a job there and is pretty much having to live there for the next few weeks.   

So you see, it's basically the greatest temporary set up ever.

And still, I continue to do the sorryest(sorriest?) of jobs at "blooming where you're planted."  Unfortunately, this is the story of my life, thus far.
...Stupid phrase.  

Anywho, so in the midst of all this change, Piper has gotten sick with another cold.   It's been exactly the same pattern as the one she got a couple months ago.   She has stayed sick for about 3 weeks.   Probably would still be sick if the doctor hadn't put her on an antibiotic (all of this having to be done over the phone because we were in Florida)  And even with that, we're probably going to have to go see the doctor again because now she's acting like her ear is bothering her.   But the wonderful thing about Piper is that, even at her worst, she's really not that hard to handle.   And she hasn't really been at her worst this time around either.  She acts fine.  As if she isn't sick at all.   Smiles and laughs and plays contentedly wherever she is.

So you see, I don't even have that as a reason to justify my behavior.

And then shortly after she got sick, Carey and I got sick, although they had it a lot longer and a lot worse than me.

Then last week, Carey and I came to the conclusion that we were being cruel to keep Buddy and Ferb because we don't have the time to pay them the attention they ought to be getting.   When we're in Florida they barely ever get to go outside because we live in a condo and they're too much for me to be able to handle with Piper in tow.   So, we started looking for a new home for them.   One lady let us believe she was ready to take them and then at the last minute (literally.  We were leaving our parking garage when she emailed us) told us she needs to think about it some more.    

Uh, no ma'am, we said. You don't get to be rude and inconsiderate and then be given MORE time to think about it.   That's what we said.  Because we're sassy like that.

I did find another lady who wanted just Ferb.  She has two other little dogs and is retired and she and her husband take their dogs every where and they're her babies who probably get tucked into bed every night with a kiss on the forehead and two books.    ...So we decided to split up the fellas since that was just too good a home to pass up for the Ferbie.   I'd like to think he lived happily ever after but I just try not to think about it because it makes my heart hurt.  

Also, we decided to keep Buddy.   In case you're wondering.

Then I found out I apparently have shingles and because Piper is so young and hasn't had her chicken pox vaccine, I risk giving her chicken pox every time I hold or kiss her.    REALLY?!

P.S.  Shingles hurts like a mother and I only have a tiny patch of it. How does a mother hurt exactly?  I'm just wondering.

Then I decided this weekend was a good one to go to Disney World, because that makes perfect sense with all of us being sick, right?   It was fun though.   Hot and crowded, but fun with lots of cute video and pictures of Piper pointing and saying Oooo! just like I do.  That's something new she's doing and it is also precious.

And all of that has led me to the whole reason I decided to write this which is that the moment we drove onto Disney property Piper Rose Casey decided to say Mama for the first time ever.

::CHOIR SINGING::

It was magical.   In Disney, friends.    IN DISNEY!    Can you even imagine how much that memory makes me happy?  Put yourself into the shoes of a pathetic, 27 year old who loves Disney more than she loves cookies...  More than she loves petit-fours from Baker's pride.   ...Ok, just trust me that it's a lot and it made me want to shed a tear.   And so now I go to sleep with her little voice in my head saying ma-ma ma-ma. 

But all of this leads me back to my original question of, why do I feel so tightly wound?   Why can I not get a hold of myself and act like an adult about things.    Put my big girl panties on and deal with the tiny, tiny inconvenience of change.  

Then tonight we get home and find that our AC is completely dead and we're now going to sleep in a house that is 81 degrees.  

...Which is hotter than it is outside.

....We would be cooler if we slept outside.

Perfect.

I cannot even imagine what it will feel like tomorrow at midday.

Try as I might, I can't work on self control and being joyful in all circumstances when I'm sweating.  

So happy flippin' springtime, everybody and yay to stupid Savannah summers.



....I'm sorry, Lord. I'm gonna try harder....

A very important phone call

Me:  Hey boy.
Carey: Hey
M: Do you think it's ok to eat chocolate that has melted and looks all weird and bubbly?
C: Weird and bubbly?
M: Yeah, weird and bubbly. And it has like a chalky film on top. Like it's melted or something.
C: I don't know. I'd have to see it.
M: Based on what I've told you, though, would you eat it?
C: What kind of candy bar is it?
M: Cookies and Cream
C:  Ooo, I don't know.  Oh wait, cookies and cream not cookie dough. 
M: Yeah. Cookies and cream
C: Yeah, you'll be ok. The air bubbles probably just happened when it melted and the chalky film is also just the way chocolate looks when it melts and re-hardens.
M: So, you sure I'll be ok?
C: Yeah.  I'd eat it.
M: K. Thanks.  
C: You're welcome.

It was delicious, by the way. 

Oh snap.

Pipes is sick.  She's had a cold for 8 days now.  She gave it to me on about the 3rd day.   It's not the flu but it's not fun either.

She's moved into the stage where she's coughing and got nasty in her throat that makes me want to hock a loogie for her.  .... Is that even how it's spelled?

Anyway, despite feeling horrible, she's met several milestones this past week.   She's learned and can (although not consistently) stand up in her crib and can stand holding onto the couch.

She's learned and perfected her method of getting from laying down to the sitting up position.

But most importantly, she's learned, as of this night, to crawl.    To crawl, people.   

Where's my "ee baby" gone?  And in case you're wondering that's a term we use that I cannot explain to Carey.  It just means little, basically.

Buddy is the one who made her crawl.   I knew we named him right.   He was laying there all cute and she just couldn't resist his charms.  She had to get from her place on the floor to him.   And then as Carey told him to move from place to place around the room she followed him.   

Now all I'm wondering is that it's all cute and exciting for us and Piper but what kind of anxiety is Buddy having to come to terms with tonigh?   Poor thing.  

I think I shall go give him some cheese.   He's my fella after all.

Sweet potato love

So, recently we've rediscovered the deliciousness that is Sticky Fingers.

May I take a moment to tell you about the sweet potato casserole?

It. is. amazing. The end.

The thing is, I've never cared for sweet potatoes. I would much rather just have a regular potato.   Which is really strange because I almost always choose something sweet over having something... er, not sweet.   Anyway, I made some of mama's sweet potato souffle for Thanksgiving and Christmas and I had to taste it to make sure I hadn't added a tablespoon of salt rather than a teaspoon or something crazy. Which is a real possibility when I'm cooking. Let's just be honest.  So when I was tasting the sweet potato souffle I decided that I don't hate it but that I do in fact love it.   I love it.  

I love it.

I love it.

I love it.

And now anytime I see sweet potato anything on a restaurant menu, I order it and weight watcher's be darned.  Actually, I just don't eat something else that I might have had that day.   I also love weight watcher's, have I mentioned recently?

Long story short, I've become obsessed with Sticky Fingers sweet potato casserole.  As in, I crave it as if I was pregnant.   Which I'm not, friends.  I am NOT.  But I want it at really inconvenient times.  Like 11:00 at night.  

SO, I've found a recipe that told me it tastes just like Sticky Fingers.  

It does not.

It's better.

It's like really runny, sweet potato casserole.    I kinda just guessed with some of the measurements.   But it being runny actually makes it like a dessert.  I'm eating it and you get these big mouthfuls of brown sugar and butter.   

That's all. I'm glad I shared this with you.

For the Bible tells me so

"If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind."

Hear me, cousins. Heed my advice.

I've heard a lot of people say that they don't see the point of taking a child under a certain age to Disney because they won't remember it.  They seem to think this makes it a complete waste of time and money.

Have you made this foolish statement before?   Well, sir...   I'm hear to tell you, you've said at least one foolish thing in your life.   Oh you heard me.   I've gone and gotten all confrontational on you but I don't apologize.  This cause is worth the momentary awkwardness.

Let me explain to you why it's totally worth taking a baby of, let's just say 7 months.

...just throwin' a random age out there...   

1. It's true -  maybe they won't remember the trip.  But they'll have a lot fun in that moment.  They'll ride in that stroller and laugh and smile and talk to every person and ever tree and every Mickey topiary they pass.  And you, my friend. You will have a monumentally good time watching this.  Seriously.

2.  After a full day of riding around in all that activity, they'll sleep like... well, a baby.  

On a side note, why is that a saying?  Babies don't exactly sleep great a lot of the time. I'm just curious.

So anyway, if yours is one of those babies, this alone should make you want to run to Disney World.  But that's just my humble opinion.

3. Maybe they won't remember it but they'll always have those pictures and all those wonderful videos and all the stories you tell them.   And frankly, it just sets a good precedent because if you go when they're that little then you obviously mean business about it and will probably go back a lot throughout their childhood.   Which makes for a super happy childhood.  

Trust me, I know this.   

In fact, there was a brief period of time when I was a little girl that we didn't go to Disney for a while.  I refer to this as the dark ages.  But that's a sad story for another day.

So, you all can just stop judging me when you hear that I've dragged us on another Disney trip because this is only the first of many for Piper.   

And it's not for me. ..No sir.   It's for Piper. 

For Piper, I tell you.
__________________________________________


...You hear that?   That's the sound of Carey weeping.