drowning in dehydration

I made a decision to drink more water. This wasn’t really a new year’s resolution.  I’ve been meaning to do this, and tried on several occasions without success, for close to a decade. 

I saw a post on Facebook by a friend who announced she was giving up her soda of choice in exchange for water for health benefits. She wrote about how she was addicted to this soft drink, but with help from friends and an App reminder, she hoped to kick the habit and be healthier in 2018.

I thought to myself, “maybe an app would help me drink water throughout the day.”  Many people don’t have an issue with drinking liquids throughout the day, but maybe their liquid of choice is sugary or caffeinated. My issue is that I don’t drink liquid at all. It’s a good day if I drink 16 ounces. Not 16 ounces of water, but 16 ounces of anything.  That is not healthy, folks.

My doctors have repeatedly told me to drink more water, and I know there are many health benefits to upping my water intake. I’ve read reports that say dehydration is linked to dry and unhealthy skin, gastrointestinal problems, and even mental health issues.  I’ve always struggled to drink enough fluids, but now I had a plan.

I downloaded four different Apps to remind me to drink more water. I’m trying them out to see which one I like best. 

Daily Water Balance Tracker cheers for me each time I record how many ounces I drank.  This is going to sound corny, but the people clapping for me make me feel so important and successful! The app also keeps an average of what I drink on a weekly and monthly basis. Notifications are sent to remind me to drink enough each day, as well, which is EXACTLY what I need. I was able to set up when I wanted those notifications to take place.

Waterlogged - Daily Hydration Tracker is probably my favorite of the apps. It allows you to quickly tap on the glass or water bottle. You can set these at whatever ounces you’re drinking. You can also log whether it’s a half glass, or fourth of a glass. There is an option where you can type in how many ounces. This is especially helpful when consuming a purchased water bottle that states it has 16.9 ounces.  Waterlogged also has options of other drinks such as milk, juice and even alcoholic beverages. These don’t count as your water intake, but they do count toward your overall intake for each day. You have to purchase the app if you would like it to send you a reminder.

My Water Balance: Daily Drink Tracker is similarly set up like Waterlogged. However, you can only use the liquid intake features if you purchase the app. It does give you rewards and has many more drink options, but again, you must purchase the app in order to take advantage of these. 

Plant Nanny sends me notifications to remind me to water the dandelion I have growing on my phone. This app does not give me the option of specifying what type of drink, or how much of that drink. But it is fun to watch the little plant grow and the reminders help me stay on track of drinking a glass of water. 

I’m only on my first week of drinking 50 ounces of water a day. (I haven’t made it to 64 yet) I can already tell a difference. My skin isn’t nearly as dry. I have more energy throughout the day and at night. My head is clearer and I feel happier. I haven’t had the winter blues or mood swings I’ve been experiencing lately.  This experiment needs to happen a bit longer before I make a profession of complete healing, but so far so good! Bottoms up!

Lighting up the world one smile at a time

“nom nom nom nom nom,” I grunted in a sing-song monsteresque voice while waiting in the line at a drive-thru restaurant. My hands pounced on my husband’s stomach to tickle him. My two-year-old sitting in the backseat went crazy with laughter that her daddy was the victim of the tickle monster instead of her. My husband was surprised at this twist of events, too. He laughed and lovingly said, “you are weird.” At one point while waiting, he randomly gave a funny scream. It took both my daughter and me by surprise, and then we all just laughed. 

I don’t enjoy waiting, but that was one of the happiest drive-thru moments I’ve ever had.   I was challenged to make my child laugh this week. It’s not hard to make my two-year-old laugh, so it wasn’t much of a challenge. It was eye-opening though. We knocked off so much stress just by playing together as a family for a short three minute period. It was weird to any outsider, but to us, it was fun. 

One of my favorite memories thus far is when someone from church gave G a soccer ball and we spent an evening teaching her how to kick it.  She had just learned to walk and was starting to work toward running and better balance. We played together that evening - just the three of us. She laughed each time the ball was kicked, whether she kicked it or not. Her laughter was contagious.  We had so much fun that evening, too.

As life is moving on, I’m tempted to add more to my plate. I have to remind myself that during this season of life, my family is what my focus is on right now. I want to look back and remember these moments where we laughed and played together.  I know that I could learn something new by being a part of four different Bible studies, being in charge of a Halloween Block Party, or organizing some event for some thing. However, I must be mature enough to know my limits and place my family first. So for now, I’m choosing the tickle monster, the front yard soccer lessons, and the hide & seek games. I’m choosing the challenge of making my child laugh.

TAG!

I taught G how to play tag today. I don’t think she understands the concept of being chased, but she enjoys doing the chasing. I gleefully tapped her on the back and said, “Tag! You’re it!” She laughed and turned around and chased after me. She doesn’t walk yet, so she was running on her knees. (She uses her knees as feet. It works for her. I’m looking forward to when she uses her feet for running, but I know she’ll get there someday.)  I quickly made my way from the living room into her bedroom, and her little knees shuffled on the carpeted floor behind me. The pitter pat of her knees against the floor was matched by the sound of Winnie the Pooh being dragged by his ear. In her other hand, she firmly held a baby doll by its neck.  Her love for her favorite dolls is intense. As she rounded the corner, her face lit up as she saw me. Her mouth formed a wide grin and I could see her little teeth protruding from her gums. She squealed and motored even more quickly to me. She dropped her stuffed prisoners and held out her arms to be picked up. She tagged me. And I loved it. We hugged and giggled and wrinkled our noses against each other. I set her down on the floor and started the game all over again. 

When I was a 20-something, I remember feeling as if it was time for me to grow up. I tried it for a little while, but I wasn’t happy with that person. There had to be balance. I’ve often told people ‘I was made to be a mom.’ Afternoons used to be spent planning, grading papers, dreaming, making phone calls, and listening to NPR All Things Considered. While NPR still plays on the radio on my kitchen window sill, my afternoons are now spent skipping, jumping, rolling over, giggling, pulling wagons, teaching how to give gentle pets to the cat, and cuddles - lots of cuddles. I think I’ve found my balance.

#honorallmoms

I've been thinking a lot about Mother's Day this year.  I've been a little anxious about it - feeling somewhat undeserving of such an honor. But you know what? Who cares!  I'm celebrating because I was made to be a mom.

I can't remember a time when I didn't want to be a mom. As a girl, I had this Raggedy Ann that went with me everywhere on the little 15-acre spot where I grew up. I bathed this poor homemade cloth doll in the creek, and tucked her in a little homemade doll bed at night. I used to put her on the swing and push her back and forth, and I read little story books to her, too.

When I was older, I was a camp counselor during the summers. I quickly realized that this was training for what I really wanted to be someday. Later, as a middle school teacher, I felt I was preparing myself for motherhood. In fact, I purposefully quit my job as a newspaper reporter and went back to school to get a graduate degree in education just so I would have a career that was more suited for children.

I was made to be a mom.

However, I did not become a mother as quickly as I had hoped. You see, God had plans different from mine.  When I met my now-husband, we both talked about how we wanted children. We also talked about how adoption was something we had always assumed would be a part of our lives. With a few years of unsuccessful trying, we had some decisions in front of us. We visited doctors, went through tests, and talked about the finances of fertility treatments. But none of it seemed right.  We prayed throughout a year for direction and finally decided in October of 2014 to adopt a child from foster care.  I prayed EVERY SINGLE DAY for that baby. I assumed s/he had been born and I was just waiting to meet him or her.

Exactly nine months later from the time we started praying, a baby girl was born in the summer of 2015. A week later, she came to live with us.  God made me to be a mom.  God prepared my heart to be her mom....for now.

And, I love it. I love being a mom - even though I'm a foster mom, and not a legal mom, or a mom from naturally bearing a child.

We're a week away from Mother's Day.  It's a grand holiday, but a hard one for so many people.  I've been there, and in some ways, I'm still there. My friend Sarah wrote a fantastic article about how we can honor all moms. Go read her her blog. http://allamericanmom.net/honorallmoms/

So many women were made to be moms - and are great moms even though their children don't share their genes.  I often think about the Bible verse found in Galations 4. Verse 27 tells barren women to rejoice because "more are the children of the desolate women..."

My bunkies at camp, my students when I was a school teacher, my pupils in Sunday School, the young women I've mentored all prepared me to be a mom. And now I'm a mom to a little 17-pound fire cracker. Honor all the moms in your life this week, friends.

A Small Addition

Dear friends,

It’s been awhile since I’ve updated this little window into my life.  So, without further ado: there may be a little person in our home within the month!

Brandon and I are becoming foster parents.  We prayed about this for over a year. We looked into different avenues of adopting, but felt like God was leading us toward foster to adopt. Through foster care, our first priority will be to take care of the child with the intention of reunification with the birth family. However, if that’s not a solution, Brandon and I would have the opportunity to adopt the child in our care.

So, I need your help.  First of all, please pray. Pray that God prepares our hearts. This will be a trying time for everyone involved, and we’ll certainly need God to help us out. Also pray for Little Bit. There’s a reason s/he is no longer with their family. That has to be so hard. Pray God protects them and is there with them through all of this.

Second, be prepared to be a light. This child will be around many of you through church and community activities. This child’s family may even visit the church. Be a light! We won’t be able to give details about the child’s family, or the reason s/he is in our care, but we would love for you to love this child (and their family).  As much as Brandon and I want a child of our own, it’s more important for a child to belong in the family of God. Share God’s love with these people. He has a purpose for bringing them into our lives.

Third, help us out on what we need.  Now that the home study is complete, I’m beginning to panic on what I actually need!  I have baby shampoo, and a pac-n-play. Some people have given me clothes and a few toys for infants. That’s it, folks. We have no idea if we will have a five-year-old, or an infant, or a child anywhere in-between. We have no idea if the child will be a girl or a boy. Some of you have already been generous. Keep it comin.’ When we know, I’ll send out a message (possibly through smoke signals) so you’ll know the age and gender of Little Bit. Feel free to pour out your love, (and old clothes and toys, advice on the best pacifier, diaper, formula, etc.) and I will take it all in with gratefulness.

Fourth, help us be great parents. Many of you had the opportunity to prepare for nine months for your babies. Brandon and I can only do so much with so little information.  I know God has called us to this ministry, but I am so scared of messing it all up. So pray for us, hug us, ask us how we’re doing, text us, show up unannounced (Sarah B. Kelly), bring casseroles, offer to babysit, invite us to play dates, teach me your ways o wise friends of mine. Be there. Be genuine. Be God’s light to us, because just like Little Bit will need to see God’s light, I’m pretty certain there will be dark moments where we’ll need to see His love, too.

Thank you for walking this journey with us.  We are humbled by your friendship.

it takes a village to raise a Christian

My pastor is preaching a new series on sharing our faith.  Any normal Southern Baptist member knows where this is going. Even though I was hesitant, I followed his lead and posted a short version of my testimony on the church’s Web site. And you know what? I’m glad I did.

It got me to thinking about how my testimony really doesn’t belong to me. Obviously my story belongs to the Lord who is the writer of all the pages of our lives (cue Days of Our Lives music here), but seriously, it also belongs to the people He purposefully placed in my life. He placed individuals in my life to do His work and help me grow closer to Him.  Isn’t that amazing?!

Let me share more of my story.

When I was two-weeks-old, my parents took me to church, much like Hannah took Samuel to church when he was a baby. However, Hannah dedicated Samuel to the Lord and took him back home until he was older. My parents just left me....because in 1981, you could still do that and not face jail time. (In 1981, you also weren’t frowned upon for having an infant in public.  Let me just say, my immune system is just fine.) Allegedly, they took me to church, all the ladies cooed over my adorableness and my mom left me in the nursery (again, great immune system as a child). After church, she and my dad rounded up the other two children, and out of habit (their words, not mine), they went to the car and drove home. They were in Riceville (this is 15 miles from the church for you people unfamiliar with the area) when my sister asked, “Where’s the baby?” Needless to say, my parents immersed me in the church early on. 

I was nine-years-old when I accepted Christ as my personal savior. My mother led me to Christ on April 7, 1991 following the death of my maternal grandmother who was a dear woman of faith. She was very meek and gentle, but was strong in the Lord.  These two ladies had a huge impact on my faith. They were at home, though.  There were others who had a large impact, too. They are who I want to tell you about.

There was a man who taught the 3 and 4-year-old Sunday school class at my church. His wife and other ladies helped, and I’m sure they actually did the bulk of the teaching. Mr. S was a large man (well, he seemed to be to me). When he picked you up, you were the tallest kid in the world! He taught me how to blow bubbles with bubble gum. I owe my first major haircut to him, as I somehow ended up tangling lots of hair in some gum while practicing this at home. He would show us how to tie our shoes and often tied them for us. Mr. S was a large man, so thinking of him sitting in small chairs with three or four of us on his lap telling us stories and making us giggle showed great love. He could have been with an adult Sunday school class, but he chose to show us love. Mr. S taught me about bubble gum and shoe laces, but most of all, he taught me how to love.

Mrs. J and Mrs. C both taught me music as a child. They taught me how to sing praises to my Lord. Mrs. C’s husband taught me how to worship the Lord - through singing and through service. He taught me that the only person worth performing for was God, and it was my responsibility to help others worship Him. I learned very early on to sing to the Lord, not for man thanks to Mr. C. I learned very early on to sing with a happy heart thanks to Mrs. J and Mrs. C.

Miss L taught me to pray. As a fifth-grader, she gave me my very first driving lesson: you  could pray with your eyes open, because if you are driving a car, you can’t close your eyes to pray. Miss L told us she prayed while driving. I pray while I drive. Miss L showed us how she writes out her prayers because it helps her mind focus on Him. I write out my prayers because I struggle to focus on Him otherwise. Miss L told us she prays throughout the day and just talks with the Lord. I learned as a fifth-grader that Jesus is my friend from Miss L.

Love, music and prayer are such huge parts of my faith. The Lord tells us in John to love others just as He loved us. David tells us to sing a new song unto the Lord in Psalms. All throughout the Bible, there are passages of prayers and people having communion with God.

My testimony has roots in my home and in my church family. Those individuals played such a significant role in my faith. It is so important to remember that I, too, have an impact on someone’s faith. God is using me just like He has used others in my life. So, as I prepare to listen to my pastor’s sermon series on sharing our faith, I’m also going to be praising God for those who shared with me. And Lord willing, He’ll use me to share with others.

Kitchen Success!

 

Last night served as a celebration for a couple of reasons. First place, it's always a happy occasion to welcome friends to your home. It's even more so when those friends are family.  Second, I prepared the final recipe to have cooked all the recipes from the main dishes section of the FBC Athens cookbook. I casually started this my senior year in college. From Baked Bean Casserole to Zippy Zucchini Pizza, I've spent the last eight years discovering which recipes have worked and which have been...well, less than satisfactory.

I didn't get serious about this task until three years ago I was a member of an awesome group of women that met each Monday for "Supper Club." Oh how I loved those Monday nights. Then, when B entered the picture, I started cooking for him. And now that's it's my responsibility to feed him most nights of the week, it became much easier to work my way through all the chicken casseroles and western hashes.

There have been all sorts of positive outcomes from this eight-year journey. For one, I've learned how to be a better cook. I learned certain shortcuts in the kitchen and I've settled into a comfortableness around my stove, oven, pots and pans. Also, I've gained a sense of confidence in myself as I prepare dishes for friends and family. I'm learning to not think less of myself when something's not good - because, gosh darn it, I gave it my all in the kitchen....and the dog has never refused to eat anything I've given her.

            
                                  

Finally, I've created a sort of diary for my children. Every recipe in this worn book has comments made from me. The comments give hints as to missing ingredients (I'm telling you, not every Baptist woman gives all the ingredients to her favorite dishes), other possibilities, whether or not to prepare it again, and who ate it. My first recipe prepared was made for my college roommates Leah Resseguie Cox and Chasse Land Greene. It was chicken and dumplins.  I have marked a recipe I cooked for my brother Eric and his wife Donna on the night they brought baby Anna (now 8!) home from the hospital. That's a favorite - Vegetable Beef Casserole.  My final recipe from this book was for Brandon's cousins Farah, Chad, Max, Aunt Deloris and his parents. Brandon said it's a keeper, and I agree. We'll definitely be eating Taco Mac N' Cheese again.

                          

So, it's an end of an era. I guess I'll start on another cookbook for main dishes. However, have no fear friends, there's still plenty of vegetable plates, appetizers, breads and desserts I've yet to share with you.

                            

Praise the Lord!

One year ago today, God answered a prayer that I'd been praying for years. Brandon asked me to be his wife :o)  I was so happy and exuberant!  I'm still filled with joy over the blessings from the Lord.

I knew God made me for marriage....and I had known it for a while.  As a teenager, I thought I'd graduate from college, land a job, and meet my husband.  God still was working in my heart in 2005, and still working in Brandon's. It took six years before I would meet my husband and seven before I walked down (rather, skipped, hopped, glided, etc.) the aisle. Even though there was some heartache, lots of tears, lots of asking why in prayers, and lots of longing, God knew. And it was totally worth the wait. Totally.

So happy one-year anniversary of the engagement between Brandon and me! I pray I always remember he is a gift from God and our marriage is sacred and something to be celebrated.

Killing your darlings

I don't know who first coined the phrase, "sometimes you have to kill your babies/darlings." I thought it was the Southern writer Eudora Welty, but it probably existed before her time.  It means that sometimes you have to get rid of what is dear to you - as a writer, that is.

I think it goes beyond writing and into any area within one's job. Sometimes you have to get rid of something you've created, or come up with that just doesn't work.  Perhaps it worked at one time, but now it just doesn't fit with the times or the people you're around.

I've found this to be very true in teaching. I discovered a rhythm that worked well for a few years. This year, the state changed some things on me, so that took away some of my rhythm. I had to make some changes - some good, and some I'll never do again.

And so, I'm in the process of killing my darlings (not my real ones, of course). It's been a year of transition in my classroom, and students never fully respond in those situations. I'm really excited as I begin planning for next year. Now that I know what to expect from the state, now that I know what's expected from me as a teacher under the new curriculum standards, I'm really excited to begin anew and create some new darlings.

Lolly Dolly

What Lolly Is Supposed to Look Like

Lolly Doll

When I was a newborn, the story goes that my mother and grandmother drove to Chattanooga for a shopping trip. Why they would take a one-week-old child on such an adventure is beyond me. Anywho, my Grandma B. bought a Lolly doll for me. Apparently, I immediately went toward the doll. Whether this is exaggerated or total truth is irrelevant. What is known in my family is my childhood love for my Lolly Dolly.

Lolly Dolly lived a rough life. I loved Lolly to death.  She's rather ragged, torn and to any other eyes but mine, ugly. But I loved my Lolly. I slept with her every night, and I'm pretty sure she attended church regularly...as well as pre-school and all outdoor activities. She probably ate a few meals with me and watched the Cosby Show on Thursday nights. Lolly was the best doll. She went swimming in the creek, rode in the wagon, and played in the dirt. She had countless "baths" in the washing machine, I'm sure.

When I was about seven-years-old, my parents decided Lolly needed to rest. I remember leaving her on my bed before leaving for school. When I got home, Lolly was missing. I was told I must have misplaced her. (Yes...it's true....my parents lied to me....) I looked all over for Lolly. It was a sad state of affairs for the household that night.

Several years later, I found Lolly in the back of my dad's closet. My mother explained they had to 'rescue' Lolly before she was completely destroyed.  I keep her tucked away in a trunk now and rarely remember her...except tonight.

Tonight I saw an advertisement for a children's clothing company called Lolly Wolly...or something to that affect. My first thought was "Lolly!" The Web site had nothing to do with dolls. However, just seeing the name Lolly brought back such sweet memories of a blessed childhood full of sunshine, warmth, and love.

My Lolly Dolly

Hosting Fellowships

Four years ago, a blessing of a cute little farmhouse fell into my lap. Having lived by myself for several years, I had gotten into the habit of becoming a hermit when at home. When I moved into this cute little house - located in the middle of a beautiful valley surrounded by a beef cattle field and rustic red barn - I knew I needed to make a change. So I prayed that my new (to me) cute, little house with the super long driveway and gorgeous scenery would be a place where people could come, laugh, eat, and hang out.

Granted, I lived in the country, so it wasn't frequented often, but I did stick to having people over monthly (and weekly if you count my parents and family coming over for Friday night meals).

Now, I'm in a new portion of my life - having recently taken the plunge into marriage. It was easy coming home from the newspaper or from school and just wanting to be alone. It's even easier to come home to my husband and not want to share our quality time with anyone else.

So, B and I made a resolution to have people over to the house more often. Last Friday was our first foray into hosting a dinner for some mutual friends. A couple who has 30+ years of marriage under their belts (compared to our 7 months) came over for dinner. They are such a splendid couple and I admire them for their humor and dedication to each other, the community, and their farm. We had a great time, ate great food and laughed.

The best part of all of this is what B and I learned from the evening. They were able to share so much with us about marriage and life - and we've learned that the little things we do, are much like the little things other couples struggle or laugh about. All of us are so blessed to be surrounded by people who have been where we are and are willing to help us along in life, or vice versa. We were meant to fellowship and share the pleasantries and unpleasantries of life with one another.

Our next adventure in hosting will be with a couple who just married this past Christmas. I am so excited to have them over.

I meant to take a picture, but in all the conversing, I forgot. However, I did take a snapshot of the flower arrangement for the evening.