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Showing posts from September, 2006

It's official.

I'm sick of things coming out of my kids.

I'm sick of being puked on. I'm sick of smelling like puke. I'm sick of never having any shirts to wear cause they've all been puked on or I don't want to risk them getting puked on.

I'm sick of cleaning up poop. I'm sick of the smell and the sight of poop. I'm sick of rushing to change diapers when I hear it or smell it 'cause I'm worried it will leak out. I'm sick of being too late. I'm sick of trying to rinse the poop off of baby clothes. I'm sick of trying to get out poop stains from shirts and pants and the occasional socks.

I'm sick of boogers. I'm sick of wiping them off of noses. I'm sick of holding down screaming children while I try to wipe them off of noses. I'm sick of suctioning them out of noses. I'm sick of cleaning the boogers out of the little suction thingy. I'm sick of wiping them out of hair and off of cheeks. I'm sick of holding hands and …

It's in my nature.

There are times when my faith seems as easy as breathing... Times when reading my bible isn't a chore and worship flows naturally. There are other times when I struggle to even know why I believe. In those times I feel so cut off from God that I start to wonder if He has deserted me. What makes the easy times easy and the hard times hard? I know it can't really be that God has moved farther away from me so it has to be something I am doing... Or something I am not doing. Doesn't it?

It has never occurred to me before that my soul is built in such a way as to make intimacy and worship easier in some circumstances and harder in others. I've taken all kinds of quizzes about my ministry style and personality style and communication style... You name it, but I don't think I've ever seen one that asks me to think about ways of approaching God that come easily to me. Anyways, I took one I found on Randall's site and here are my results:

Becky - Based on your respons…

There. That's better.

Ahhhh... A place I can call my own. Yurp.

Tales of Toddler Talk

The other night at Mom and Dad's... Ben was having some trouble sleeping. Ang finally handed him off to me at around 5:45 am after trying to get him back to sleep for around an hour. I took him into bed with me and made him lie down. We had some nice music playing and the room was mostly dark. Very restful. Very calming. Suddenly, Ben sits up and looks at me lying beside him and says, "I like to move it, move it." It pretty much went downhill from there.

The other day at Mom and Dad's... Ben was playing with some toys while Mom and I were visiting in the livingroom. Out of nowhere he starts begging, "Want some little sin? Want da little sin? Little sin? Sin? Sin! Sin?" We could'nt figure out what he wanted. Since we haven't got to the sin part of his theological education, we were pretty sure he wasn't trying to purchase an indulgence. We also eliminated the sun, Sam, and the Sims as other possibilities. We couldn't figure it out and had to l…

Happy Birthday Ping

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When you're gone
You leave behind
Way too much bruschetta.

(For those of you who don't regularly check Ben and Sam's blogs... View the rest of this birthday series here and here. What? No. Yeah!)

This isn't what I ordered.

Life is such a crazy mixture of joy and crap, sometimes it's hard to know whether you are happy or devastated. At least that's how I feel right now.

My "Uncle" Doft and "Auntie" Carolyn are here visiting from BC with their adorable kiddies. For those of you who aren't family you should know that Doft (or David) is only three months older than me and Carolyn is around 5 years younger... 4 years? I don't know. Either way I never call either of them Auntie or Uncle unless I am being a pain and trying to make them feel old. (It's hard to do too, cause they're all cute and hip. Do people still say hip?) I have tons of pictures of the family and all our boys together. I am always so happy to be with them. (I think I want them to be my pets too. I wonder how Ang will react to having new pets in the house? She's so used to living in a one pet home. I hope she doesn't retaliate by peeing on the carpet and clawing at my drapes. Maybe if I keep …

My Hero

Ang is my hero. I would die without her here to help me. I want to take her home with me and keep her as my pet. My clean and helpful pet.

I was wrong. Yes, I said it.

I'm going to do something here that I don't usually do. I'm going to admit that I was wrong. After much contemplation, and a bit more experience, I can see that I said something that wasn't completely accurate.

Nursing Sam right now doesn't feel like being burned by acid at all. It only feels like that for ten minutes or so once he is finished. Initially, it actually feels a lot more like someone is peeling my nipple from my chest with a utility knife. Then after five minutes or so the pain recedes a bit and feels a bit like how I imagine it would feel to have your sore and blistered nipple yanked on with a set of pliers.

There. I hope that clears things up. I apologize for the earlier inaccuracy.

Montreal Shootings

Just this once, I agree with a politician, "... it's hard to come to grips with the case of an individual who is prepared to end his life while killing strangers." (Stephen Harper)

I've had my mind on 9/11 all week and so the shootings in Montreal seem particularly baffling to me. What is wrong with people? Who kills for fun? 9/11 was insane. Knowing there are people out there who planned and killed a whole bunch of people they didn't know is horrifying to me. But somehow this recent shooting seems even worse to me. At least the al Qaeda murderers thought they had a cause. This murderer seems to have just done it because he felt like it. He thought it would be cool. I can't imagine what the murdered girl's family feels like today. How do you process the death of a loved one for absolutely no reason? Someone took away someone they cherish... Just because. I can't wrap my mind around it. I haven't even cried about it yet, which, if you know me, is we…

Five Years Ago

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i remember

feeling small
and hollow
watching someone's someone
fall

waiting
with an ache invading
glad and sad
to be so far

ashes and ashen
and tears streaking through
the grey of dead
and lost

yet somehow
papers gently raining
so pristine
and clean

hope
and then despair
when hope
did not find there

asking why
and how
could people hurt
without knowing who

begging Him
can't you come
and make this
done

i remember
i won't forget
you and they
who did it to
us

I know comments are screwy.

Let's just all try to calm down and take and take some deep cleansing breaths. I think we can still make this work.

If you choose other and then put your blogsite address or post anonymously and then sign your name at the bottom of what you write it should work though. I like other best because it still publishes your comment as "so and so say" and links back to your own blog.

The new beta version still has some kinks to work out, including the fact that if you haven't switched to beta you can't sign in on my blog and vice versa. I guess that's why they call it a beta version. I think once they have it running properly it should be great, you should see the awesome new spell checker and editing features, but right now it is causing some inconvenience.

So I'll probably see if I can switch back until they've got it all fixed.

Breath in. Breath out.

Thrush... AGAIN

This is the fourth time in Sam's short life that we have had to deal with thrush. For those of you who don't know what it is I'm not going into details here but basically right now it means that when Sam nurses it feels like he's sucking acid out of me. And the acid has little nails in it. And someone is hitting me in the chest with a big hammer.

I'm all blistered. I seriously feel and look like I've been burned. Even my clothes hurt.

... And every three hours or so Sam gets hungry and he comes at me all freaky excited and breathing heavy. And I'm supposed to put my poor damaged "part" (for Dad's sake I won't say nipple... oops I said it) into that gaping mouth. Sometimes I cry a little.

I think maybe it's time to quit nursing. This is getting out of hand.

Plus Sam is grouchy again cause it upsets his little tummy. There. All done whining.

I'm Working On It

I've been meaning to do this for a while now, but Aunty Mitz and Robyn's dilemma has hurried me along. Blogger has these new beta accounts that let you do all kinds of snazzy new things. I've been meaning to switch everything over, but I've just been too lazy. One of the features allows you to keep your blog completely private except for the people you send an invitation to via email.

I'm testing it out with Ben's blog and have already encountered a few glitches. One thing I don't like is that it really works easier for visitors if you get a google account, and I don't want everyone to have to do that. You can avoid it by clicking on the link in your email invitation and then selecting "continue as guest", but that means you have to keep that link. I recommend bookmarking it instead of the actual blog address. The other thing that is a bit irritating right now is that I've managed to put all three of "my" blogs onto one account an…

Ben Has Another Close Call

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Well, apparently I need to work a little harder on baby proofing our house. We had another close call today. My pulse is still racing a little. We almost had a full out catastrophe.

Ben came upstairs today with something on his feet. Something that struck fear into my heart. Something that filled my mind with the worst sorts of pictures. Yes people, he had marker scribbles all over his feet and PJ's. What was so scary about that you ask? I suddenly remembered that I had left out some permanent fabric markers and paints. I ran down the stairs picturing our nice tan carpet with green and purple and yellow scribbles all over it. Then I pictured scribbles all over our furniture. Then I pictured scribbles all over my nice white walls. Scribbles that would never come out. Oh the horror.

I don't think I can explain to you the relief I felt when I got down into the basement and found the markers, lids off, and no scribbles to be seen. I guess Ben was only interested in decorating himsel…

This World Would Be So Much Better if We Could JUST Get Rid of the Stupid People

Will someone PLEASE come to Dorkton and explain to the drivers here how a four way stop works? WHY IS IT that every time I want to turn left at one there is some BRAINLESS WONDER who is going straight through who thinks THEY have the right of way even though I stopped before they did? (Seriously. How do these people even manage to turn their cars on with only empty spaces where their brains should be?)

You know what makes me the maddest? What just PUSHES ME OVER THE EDGE? They always makes this dumb "I'm going straight so I have the right of way" gesture at me. Like I'm the stupid one. I'm clenching up just thinking about it. If they just weren't paying attention I could get over it. But they actually think they should get to go first.

I wanna know WHO TAUGHT THESE PEOPLE DRIVER'S ED? And where is he, cause I wanna clean his clock for him. Shine it right up. Make his clock so clean you could eat off of it. Glen never lets me follow these people home to exp…

So you think you know me?

Then take this quiz and prove it.
(Just use a fake email when you sign in, that's what I did.)

Wise up people!

All right chakins! I love you all, but there is this one tiny thing that I really need to discuss with you. (All the men run from the room because I said the "D" word.)

I get a few kinds of emails on a regular basis:

A plea for me to forward the email to all of my friends and family because some child is lost or kidnapped or has cancer or needs help with a school project or whatever... They need my help.A plea for me to please forward the email to all of my friends and family because some crazy criminal has come up with a new scam to steal my money or murder me or sexually assault me or whatever... He's done it before and he's gonna do it again so I need to warn all the people I love.A plea with me to forward the email to all of my friends because something morally reprehensible is happening and I must sign and email the petition it includes to my list of contacts... It's the only thing that can stop it.An invitation for me to forward the email to a certain number …

It's so sad.

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Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, died yesterday after sustaining chest and heart injuries from a short-tail stingray barb while filming an underwater documentary. He leaves behind his wife Terri, his 8 year old daughter Bindi Sue, and his 3 year old son Bob. I can't stop thinking about it. I'm not sure why it is bothering me so much...

Maybe it's because it just seems so ironic and senseless. The guy did dangerous stuff all the time, and this is how he goes out. Apparently, he decided to quickly get some shots for a segment on his daughter's TV show to dispel the myth that stingray are dangerous. It was just a freak accident and a freak accident could happen to any of us. Any time. I find that thought a little disturbing, I have to admit.

Or maybe it's because he had a little boy who won't get to know his daddy now. It seems so tragic that a guy who was a hero to so many children is leaving his own children behind. The only memories his little boy will have of …

Garage Sale: Chapter Two

Remember the glass for sale that I was reconsidering?

Someone bought it. I wanted to run after her screaming... "You can't take that! Wait! I need it!"

Deep breaths Becky, in and out.

Garage Sale

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It's my first time. Unless you count the time I sold my Barbie Motor Home for $5.00 at Mom's yard sale. Turns out that was a huge mistake. I just found one that's selling on ebay for $86.00 with three days still to go. I should have kept it. Look at it.

That van was a thing of beauty. (Matthew, none of your cool car pictures even come close to this hot little number.) I can't believe I sold it. Hey Ang, let's pool our money and buy that one off of ebay. I bet it doesn't go for more than a hundred. Maybe one fifty. Now where was I? Oh yeah...

I'm all freaked out. Who's gonna want all the stuff I don't want? If I don't want it why would someone else? Hey. Do I really want to get rid of that glass? What if Ben wants it someday? Maybe I'll just put that back in the house. Maybe that pair of roller skates too. You never know when your gonna need a pair of roller skates... This is too hard. I'm gonna puke. (Pictures are coming soon by the way. N…