Alright all!
I can't post a picture of this, because it's a stocking stuffer, BUT...
I bought 2 items today. They would have been $2.48 each, but it was buy one get one free! Plus, I had a $1.00 off coupon!
I walked out paying $1.43!!!!
Yahoo!!!!
Friday, November 28, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
The Invisible Mom
This was sent to me today.
It came just as I needed it most.
The Invisible Mother......
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'
Obviously, not.
No one can see that I'm on the phone, or cooking, or vacuuming the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The Invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Music Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Can you pick me up at 5:30?'
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . Tracy had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic when Tracy turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe .
I wasn't exactly sure why she' d given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, 4 life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
1. No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
2. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
3. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte . I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile about. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life.
It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be o n.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my daughter to tell the friend she's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want her to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to her friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot see if we're doing it right.
And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it sometimes does. We never know what our finished products will turn out to be because of our perseverance.
It came just as I needed it most.
The Invisible Mother......
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'
Obviously, not.
No one can see that I'm on the phone, or cooking, or vacuuming the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The Invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Music Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Can you pick me up at 5:30?'
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . Tracy had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic when Tracy turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe .
I wasn't exactly sure why she' d given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, 4 life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
1. No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
2. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
3. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte . I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile about. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life.
It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be o n.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my daughter to tell the friend she's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want her to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to her friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot see if we're doing it right.
And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it sometimes does. We never know what our finished products will turn out to be because of our perseverance.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Interesting
What Happy People Don't Do
By RONI CARYN RABIN
Read in the NY Times
Happy people spend a lot of time socializing, going to church and reading newspapers - but they don't spend a lot of time watching television, a new study finds.
By RONI CARYN RABIN
Read in the NY Times
Happy people spend a lot of time socializing, going to church and reading newspapers - but they don't spend a lot of time watching television, a new study finds.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Coupons!!!
I have found a new coupon site that is amazing!!!
Give it a look!
http://www.ppgazette.com
Wow! What a savings!
Give it a look!
http://www.ppgazette.com
Wow! What a savings!
Monday, November 17, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
More Than Me
I'm always tired, it seems.
On the go non-stop- but always tired.
And then I started thinking:
As I lay in bed, my little wheels are already turning:
Did Lance make the coffee?
No.
Should I make coffe.
Na.
Better get up.
Need to get the girls moving.
Go downstairs.
Go upstairs.
Get dressed.
Do my hair.
Do my make-up.
Are they up?
Is Peanut up here eating yet?
Do I hear Punky down there?
Make my lunch.
Eat my cereal.
Do I have my blood meter?
Punky- Did you take your pill?
Did you take your nasal inhaler?
Do you have lunch money? ID?
Is your bed made?
Peanut- Hair? Teeth? Shoes? Flute? Deoderant? Bed?
What time is it?
Dishwasher is running.
Washer is going.
Clothes are hung and the dryer is running.
Kiss Lance.
Out the door.
Feed the dog!
No.
When we get home.
Back out.
Close the garage door.
All in 45 minutes.
Sigh.
Off to work.
...
Yeah. We get a little tired.
And they wonder why we drink.
Just kidding.
On the go non-stop- but always tired.
And then I started thinking:
As I lay in bed, my little wheels are already turning:
Did Lance make the coffee?
No.
Should I make coffe.
Na.
Better get up.
Need to get the girls moving.
Go downstairs.
Go upstairs.
Get dressed.
Do my hair.
Do my make-up.
Are they up?
Is Peanut up here eating yet?
Do I hear Punky down there?
Make my lunch.
Eat my cereal.
Do I have my blood meter?
Punky- Did you take your pill?
Did you take your nasal inhaler?
Do you have lunch money? ID?
Is your bed made?
Peanut- Hair? Teeth? Shoes? Flute? Deoderant? Bed?
What time is it?
Dishwasher is running.
Washer is going.
Clothes are hung and the dryer is running.
Kiss Lance.
Out the door.
Feed the dog!
No.
When we get home.
Back out.
Close the garage door.
All in 45 minutes.
Sigh.
Off to work.
...
Yeah. We get a little tired.
And they wonder why we drink.
Just kidding.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Exhausted
There are some wounds that never heal
Pains that only fade
In the blink of an eye
The twitch of a muscle-
The wound re-opens
The pain returns
With the same fervor it originally held.
Doing the dishes in silence
Closing ones eyes in the shower
Brushing your teeth
Blankly looking in the mirror
The moment can occur at any time.
The return is knee buckling.
It's not asked for
It's not wanted
It's the kind of pain that you will hear-
"I don't know how you lived through that! I never could!"
But you do.
Bury it.
Conceal it.
Shake it off when the pain returns.
...if you can.
Pains that only fade
In the blink of an eye
The twitch of a muscle-
The wound re-opens
The pain returns
With the same fervor it originally held.
Doing the dishes in silence
Closing ones eyes in the shower
Brushing your teeth
Blankly looking in the mirror
The moment can occur at any time.
The return is knee buckling.
It's not asked for
It's not wanted
It's the kind of pain that you will hear-
"I don't know how you lived through that! I never could!"
But you do.
Bury it.
Conceal it.
Shake it off when the pain returns.
...if you can.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Historical Day
Today we will either have our first African-American President-
Or our first female Vice-President.
A historical day, for sure.
No matter who you choose-
Choose to vote!
Or our first female Vice-President.
A historical day, for sure.
No matter who you choose-
Choose to vote!
Monday, November 03, 2008
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