Tradition. TRA-DI-TION!

Well, I hope you are all hearing the bold sound of Tevye's voice in your head as he struts around singing "Tradition"! I think I need to go to Netflix and put that one on my queue. It's been too long since I had those songs stuck in my head!

Now, if you are an Adventist, like me, and grew up that way, you're probably already feeling a little panicky at the word "tradition". Yeah, you know you are! It seems sometimes that the word "tradition" rates right up there with "antichrist", "666" and "confessional".

Sometimes we throw the baby out with the bath water, folks!

I'm not even going to go into any theological debate over tradition in religion, but I will admit that there have been times I've thrown the baby out with the bath water, too. There's nothing wrong with tradition when it comes to traditions in families, cultures, holidays, and *cough* in appropriate religious forms, too, in my humble opinion.

Christmas is a prime example of where to find some wonderful traditions! Sleigh rides, hot cocoa, sledding, baking cookies, gingerbread houses, caroling, hunting through the woods for a Christmas tree, singing "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" and "The Redneck Days of Christmas".

What would we do without those traditions? Life would be... chaotic. Tangled. Disjointed.

In other words, it just wouldn't be Christmas!

So what did we do this year? Well, I can tell you what we didn't do!

We...didn't....do....our....traditions....

*que really sad emoticon here.

For instance, every year since we've been married, we've had a family Christmas pic taken in front of our Christmas tree on Christmas morning. I've even worn the same red pajamas for the pic every Christmas. It's tradition! Or maybe just a sick fascination with seeing how well (or not) they fit from year to year.



But not this year. And not even because I had finally realized that that was a BAD tradition! Seriously, those things were never that flattering! I mean, did I really think I ever looked that good in bright, fire-engine red button-down pajamas?! Oy.

How about all the kids in red jammies in front of the Christmas tree instead?


Oh yes, much better! Maybe that will be our new tradition, eh?

Another tradition is to make sugar cookies and a gingerbread house and decorate it.

Like this, except not FLAT.

Well, then. Moving on.

How about singing along to our favorite Christmas music?

No stereo in the house except the cd drive in the computer and the poor little emachines speakers. Nothing but a tape player in my '86 Suburban. No tape of Christmas music recorded on a tape from 1989, OR the cd of Dolly and Kenny Christmas to Remember. Where ARE those two favorite things?!

Well, Pandora came to my rescue and had a wonderful station of lovely Christmas music that did not include any techno or raggae. It played every song and anything that sounded remotely musical from the Charlie Brown Christmas special ad nauseum, but somehow Pandora neglected to include any Dolly and Kenny.

And for the first time since 1980-something, I did not hear ANY Dolly and Kenny Christmas music in the month of December.

Hey, I know what you're thinking. But don't knock my Dolly and Kenny, y'all. I LOVE me some Dolly and Kenny. Their Christmas special first aired in 1984 and that's right about the time I started singing along to every song on that record, and I never stopped. It's as much a part of Christmas to me as... well, as the Christmas tree! And lights! And presents, and bows, packages, boxes and bags! Oh, wait, now I'm veering off into another Christmas special I saw every year. Hmm...

Twice I've lipsynced an entire Dolly and Kenny Christmas song in front of a video camera. Once when I was 10, and once when I was... considerably older than 10. One day I'll get my brother Jake to digitalize the 10 year old one and maybe I'll even put it on youtube so you can all laugh until you cry. I was SO adorable as Dolly! And my dad even played the part of Kenny and lipsynced too! Ahhhh... good times.

Oh, how often I dreamed that we'd go to one of those *imaginary* concerts nearby, only to discover Dolly had fallen sick with laryngitis and I'd have to climb the stairs to the stage and take her place to sing along with Kenny!

Hey. A little girl can dream, right?!

All right, folks, show's over, wipe the tears of laughter away.

Good memories.

Only 11 more months to go (plus an extra day, silly leap year) until the next Christmas morn comes too soon and moves down the line into the annals of yesteryear. So without further ado, I will attempt to make up for lost (Christmas)time and start NOW with getting my Dolly and Kenny fix.

Complete with tight, fur-trimmed sparkly vest and.... mannequins? Wow. Classic. And very scary. I think after this I'll stick with just listening! The dancing elves and rocking out in church in the other videos are still burning my eyes, too, but, hey, you do what you got to when it comes to Christmas Traditions!



So what are your favorite Christmas traditions?

TOS Review - Zeezok Publishing "Z-Guides to the Movies"

Zeezok Publishing is a company that provides quality literature and educational books, focusing on historical values for higher living. They believe "It is better to build children than to repair men.", and hope their products will inspire a greater love for God and country.


One of their products, the Z-Guides to the Movies, we were fortunate enough to have the chance to review. A Z-Guide to the Movies is a unit study meant to enforce, in a graphic and memorable way, a history lesson! There are Z-Guides available for many well-known titles depicting stories set in time periods such as Kit Kitredge for studying the time of the Great Depression, The Red Badge of Courage (War between the States), The Adventures of Robin Hood (Medieval Europe), and so on.

The Z-Guides are specific to school-grade level (high school, middle school, elementary school or elementary/middle) and we were chosen for the Elementary level Z-Guide for Ben-Hur!


The great majority of the Z-Guides currently available are for the high school crowd, and I wasn't sure what Joshua would think of the movie we chose considering its length and depth, but he was, of course, absolutely fascinated by the chariot races!

There were some parts of the movie that we considered to be too graphic or disturbing for our 8 year old son, but even with the viewing being slightly censored he was able to grasp most of the concepts that were discussed in the review questions part of the guide.

For him the best part of the Z-Guide activities was the assignment of making a "travel brochure" for chariot races. I helped him do some online research, found a few new facts, and had a great time making some illustrations, cutting out pictures we printed, and so on.

There were also a word search, creative writing, storyboard art project, civic involvement exercise, a research activity, a review of a conversation in the movie, a worldview activity, and a critical thinking summary. The Z-Guide also gives suggestions for family discussions, gives resources for further study, and comes complete with an answer key.

Just a word of advice on that word search, though: it is missing the bottom line - check the answer key for help on that one!

The Z-Guide includes activities to be completed over several days, it's not a one-day unit study type of project. We tried to stuff the whole viewing of the movie in one afternoon and it was too much. It would have been better if we'd gone a little slower with that part and given more time to let it sink in and discuss over a few nights!

The girls are just getting into American Girl dolls and I am actually looking forward to the time when they can enjoy the movie Kit Kittredge and learn about the Depression while doing a Z-Guide to the Movies!

Z-Guide to the Movies are available for $12.99 and if you don't own the movie or are unsure of which version is to be used with the Z-Guide, the movie itself is also available for purchase right there on the Zeezok website!

You can read more about what a Z-Guide is here!

I was provided with a downloadable Z-Guide to the Movies file free of charge in exchange for an honest review and nothing more. All opinions here are my own!

To see what other TOS Crew members are saying about Zeezok's Z-Guides to the Movies, you can read them here at the TOS blog!

Infertility vs. Pregnancy Loss: No Contest

There has been a lot of talk recently in the news with certain well-known folks losing their 21st pregnancy. I was saddened by the news of their loss and the criticism they are recieving in a very painful time, and yet, I am glad that the subject of miscarriage is no longer off limits in general conversation. Those of us who have been on that road are no longer expected to sweep it under the rug, thank God for taking what surely must have been a deformed child from our malfunctioning bodies in mercy, and never speak of it again. Yep, I am glad our society is not there any more.

But what about those who never conceive at all? What comfort do we offer them? To those who lose a pregnancy, we give comfort through the Blessed Hope or by saying their baby is waiting in the arms of Jesus. Not those who can't conceive, though. No one says anything about any Blessed Hope to them! For their hurting hearts, the Blessed Hope becomes almost painful - they have no little ones waiting in the arms of Jesus to heal the hurt of loss their absence caused.

Instead, we offer advice: go on vacation! Just relax, then it will happen! Go to the doctor, they'll give you some drugs that you can inject yourself with over and over and then you'll ovulate and get pregnant! Or do IVF! Or just adopt!

Now don't get me wrong. There is a place, a need for adoptive parents. There are, indeed, many babies waiting for a loving family to adopt them. But it is not the cure-all that those of us who have had our babies would like to think it is. And it does NOT take the place of the babies born in the hearts of mothers who can't have them born into this world.

I recently read a post written by a mother who had secondary infertility. She'd had her one baby girl nearly ten years before, and despite many efforts to have another, was facing the fact that in her forties she needed to say goodbye to the baby boy she wanted desperately, but that she would never hold in this world, and never will in the next. It was an incredibly powerful statement of the terrible finality of infertility.

She needed to grieve him. She had a right to grieve him. And yet, so few saw the legitimacy in her pain. Why? Why are we allowed to grieve for the babies we lose in pregnancy, post conception, but not the babies that we loved and saw as a part of our lives before they were even conceived?

There is grief that comes when someone passes from our lives, whether they have been living in our bodies for a few short weeks and then gone before we ever met, or whether they have been part of our lives as long as we can remember. But there is also grief that comes from the death of a dream, particularly when that dream involves not just a life lived here on this earth, but a soul made for eternal life.

When once I told a friend of mine that I believed her right to grieve (losing hope through infertility) was every bit as valid as mine (having lost through miscarriage) her reaction was immediate, intense, and appreciative, which truly surprised me.

Because it is one of those taboo topics, shunned from polite conversation, even in this day and age of tell-all books and instant tweets, there are still many would-be mothers and fathers in pain. Silent pain. Alone in their grief, misunderstood by the vast majority, and given ridiculous advice by all.

It's not just a dream, a hope, it is a vital piece of the life they hoped to live here on earth and a jewel in the crown they wanted to cast at the feet of their Savior. Yes, there are ways to pursue parenthood, and many will and do. But first, before that step, they have to give themselves permission to grieve their own babies that they will never hold. How can they when the rest of society is so busy marginalizing the trial placed on their shoulders?

So next time you are tempted to say something like, oh just go on vacation, it worked for us! Or, when are you going to have a baby? You arent getting any younger, you know! Think again, and get your mental foot out of your mouth.

Next time you are tempted to take your children for granted, stop. Just stop. Ask yourself if what you are doing is really more important than the little hearts, minds, and souls that have been graciously placed in your care. They aren't accidents, not a single one of them. They each have a purpose. They aren't inconveniences to be managed. Take a moment right now to just thank God for each one of them, and remember what a blessing each is next time you are tempted to say something snarky to that childless couple in the restaurant that keeps staring at you and your kids. You don't really know what they're thinking. Her biggest struggle with you might not be the noise, it may be a terrible, ripping her heart out kind of pain that makes her grimace.

Yes, grant a little grace, folks. That mother (even if she isn't a "mother" in the world's eyes) deserves the same kind of tender sympathy that a woman who miscarried deserves and is given. And I can say that, because I've been the miscarrying mother.

May each one of you, mother or father, grieving or holding a child, hopeful or losing hope, find grace sufficient in our Heavenly Father this Christmas season. Never lose hope. Hope is necessary for life! I don't have all the answers, and because I've not walked in those particular shoes, I certainly don't have the right words of comfort. But I pray you will find comfort in the arms of the One who does.

No, there is no contest between miscarriage and infertility. There is only pain, maybe a little more similar than you might have thought, and there is the Healer of all hearts, hopefully in between there is kindness, understanding, and prayers lifted up for each other through our unique trials.

Out of Alignment

(too bad I can't sleep like this guy, eh?)

About 6 1/2 years ago we got a new bed. Well, new to us anyway. It was a family hand-me-down, so don't anyone get all skeeved and worried about bed-bugs, y'all.

I was thrilled. It was the most amazingly comfy bed I'd slept on EVER. Or at least, that's what my pregnant body told me. And it really was comfy. But as the years flew by, the bed lost a little of that comfy factor.

Apparently mattresses get all old and stuff. Colby has been telling me for quite a while that we need to replace them. It's been pretty low on my priority list. Seriously, why fix something that's not BROKEN.

Fast forward to about 6 weeks ago. I had been having pain in my right hip for a few weeks. It got so bad that I'd wake up in the night crying. Colby said it was because of the bed. I thought, Nah. Can't be.

Then I began to have pain in my left knee whenever I walked very far or, heaven forbid, went to the gym. As in, I needed a knee brace and a lot of ibuprofen the next day.

And THEN the jaw pain started. The left side of my jaw wouldn't close right and I had a really hard time chewing anything!

Left jaw, right hip, left knee. Hmm.

I thought someone had pushed fast forward on the aging button.

(Twerty - aka Nerd Bird)

Then one night the pain in my hip was overwhelming and my tossing and turning and crying did it for my husband. He was convinced the bed was to blame, so in the dark he helped me move and grabbed all the blankets and flung them over us so that we were sideways on the bed.

The next few nights brought such relief. I slept. Without tears. I ate, without clicking. I walked, without a knee brace. By Thanksgiving I was completely back to myself.

Seriously.

I couldn't believe it. Colby was totally right about the bed. A small change of direction made all the difference in the world.

It got me to thinking about foundations. I mean, we're a little out of touch with the idea of foundations these days, don't you think? When we read in the Bible about the "wise man" building his house upon the rock, it's a thought process we don't spend much time on. Most of us don't build the houses we live in from the ground up. If we do, we hire someone else to think about how deep to dig the foundation, what codes need to be followed, and which company to use to dig the holes. We don't do it. Not with our own two hands. Not any more.

But what if we build our sleep schedule on a really old mattress? It's amazing how just a tiny bit of misalignment of our "foundation" - our spine - can cause such drastic reactions in other places of our body! My back was out of alignment, and by turns, so was the rest of my body.

So with our spiritual walk. If we are out of alignment in our spiritual "foundation" - our personal, heart-to-heart relationship with Jesus - we're going to be out of alignment a little bit everywhere else in life, too.

The pain in my knee felt just like it did when I'd twisted my knee while skiing. The pain in my jaw just seemed to have no connection to my spine whatsoever. And yet... they both were connected.

Next time I'm feeling a little "out of alignment" somewhere in my heart, I think I'll focus a little less on fixing what FEELS out of place and focus a little more on what's at the core - building my foundation on the Rock.

Words With Kids

No one really tells you about the hazards of having kids. They don't focus on the stuff like stretch marks or the possibility of embarrassment during sessions of public breastfeeding (while your other kids get much needed play breaks in the dead of winter at the mall playground), and they don't tell you about the absolute certainty of humiliation when your kids SAY things in public making you red in the face until you'd rather hide in a hole than see particular people ever again.

We all think we're immune to things like this. We're just all happy and excited and thinking to ourselves, I won't be the one to get stretch marks, I'm stocked and ready to go with all that shea butter goodness!. Or, I will NEVER breastfeed in public so that won't happen to me! Or better yet, I just WON'T CARE what anyone thinks while I feed my baby!

And, invariably, by the time reality sets in the little munchkins have us all wrapped around their little fingers and stuff, so we go on our merry way and completely neglect to tell our friends, who are thinking of starting their own families, about these things.

Then they start talking. And I don't mean in the cute 18-month-old, Oh, wow, you said "truck!" but it REALLY didn't sound like "truck!" kind of embarrassing way. I mean in the 6-year-old, Oh, WOW, you'd think this kid is being interrogated by LeRoy Jethro Gibbs sort of Let-me-tell-all-the-deep-dark-secrets-of-the-family AND let-me-go-crawl-in-a-hole way.

Yeah. That.

Maybe I homeschool because it seems safer (until we go to church) from all that baring of the communal family soul. Not that I don't share a few embarrassing tidbits of my own here on the blog. Usually those shared details are my own flubs and missteps, but now, it's time for a little payback. Oh, sure, the kids won't find these things embarrassing for about 10 more years (and knowing my kids, maybe they won't EVER), but I have to have a record somewhere of them so I don't forget!




Emmy: to me while trying on hand-me-down snowpants: MOOOOM!!!! (bursting into tears) They DON'T FIT!!!
Me: They look like they fit okay, where are they bugging you?
Emmy: They just don't FIT! (more tears)
Me: Let's see.... they're not too short, they're not too tight, what's the matter with them?
Emmy: THEY ARE BLUE!!!!! (and then flopping down on the bench, sobbing)


Joshua: to Emmy when they were sitting at the table (attempting) to do schoolwork: Look how sharp this pencil is!
Emmy: It's like a SWORD!
Joshua and Emmy: pshhp! Pshaaaw! Aaayaah! Shwoooop! (sword fighting with their pencils)
Me: STOP doing that you could put someone's eye out!!!
Joshua and Emmy: (pause) Then we could have an EYEPATCH! We'd look like PIRATES!!!
Me: (*fail*)


Okay, if you're squeamish, you might want to end this reading of my blog post right here.



Just warning ya!



Particularly if you are vegetarian, vegan, etc. or a member of PETA.




Okay, so we are *mostly* vegetarian. I will once in a while order something with chicken in it when we're out eating, but I don't ever cook meat of any kind at home. Well, there was that one time I made a baked salmon dish, but other than than, it doesn't happen. Until Thanksgiving.

It's Thanksgiving people. The day just NEEDS a turkey. So when we're home for that holiday I get past my absolute distaste of handling raw meat and... cook a turkey.

But that's not what happened here.

This year we were home, I didn't want to cook a turkey, I didn't want to THAW a turkey in my kitchen before I could cook it, etc. So instead I went and bought one of those pre-cooked rotisserie chickens. Yeah, totally the same thing, I KNOW, okay?! But anyways, so there we are with our nicely prepared dinner, and this little chicken thing sitting off to the side, and then....

Emmy: Momma, can I have the drumstick?
Me: (how does she know what the drumstick IS?) Umm, okay?
Emmy: YAY!
Me: Here you go, Emmy.
Emmy: Oh, boy, oh boy! (commences eating drumstick)
Emmy: Look, guys, there's the MEAT! (chomp, chomp, chomp)
Emmy: Look, guys, there a VEIN!!! (poke, poke, poke)
Emmy: LOOK, GUYS, THERE'S THE BONE!!! (hopping up and down, literally, on her seat)
Me: (slaps hand against face)
Emmy: Momma, can we clean off this bone so I can keep it?
Me: (ohdearLordhavemercyonme)

*and yes, for those wondering, I DID boil that bone (thank you, Temperance Brennan, for showing me how) until it was clean and give it back to her. 'Cause that's just the kind of girl she is, and the kind of mom I am. She thought she was being a paleontologist, and I do believe she would have taken it outside and buried it somewhere just so she could find it again except the dog stole it about 30 seconds later.

I think I'm embarrassing myself now, aren't I? Who needs the kids to tell on me when I plainly put out my redneck side for all to see right here?

Oh, dear. Time to go pick my teeth with one o'them leftover bones or somethin', now, ain't it?

~ Never Forgotten ~

The days leading up to the 10th anniversary of Carl's death were marked by broken sleep, tossing and turning in the dark, grasping at memories that seemed too far away to reach.

The memories I have no longer seem like vapors drifting up through my consciousness and caught like tiny, glistening droplets of water on a web. Now they are solid, worn smooth like a stone carried around in a pocket. The details feel rehearsed.

There are no new memories to be made.

Friday was punctuated by tears, by unspoken questions that will not be answered this side of heaven, and finally, by peace and hope found in these precious promises:

"But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as other which have no hope, for if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him.... for the Lord Himself shall descend from heaven with a cloud and with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God!" 1 Thess. 4:13-16

"For now we see through a glass, darkly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I shall know even as also I am known." 1 Cor. 13:12

I am, as I know many, many others are, thankful not only for these promises of hope but also for a loving Father who carries every memory of his children close to His heart, never letting any of it fade away. Every smile, every tear, every laugh, it is all kept safe in the heart of One who loved Carl more than all the rest of us put together.

Tags: Who You'd Be Today, Kenny Chesney, Kenny Chesney Videos