Bittersweet Memories

I have been feeling quite nostalgic lately, and looked up some old journals I saved from ten years ago.  The year 2007 was fraught with emotion caused by the deaths of ten different people I knew, including my own only brother, and their ghosts will haunt my memory forever.  I suppress the feelings as much as possible for the sake of my own sanity, but sometimes auld lang syne is too strong for my protective walls and grief seeps in through the cracks.  Ten years ago, at age 19 I was going through the most horrifying, harrowing experience of my entire life so far--the loss of a family member, my brother Nathan Stoeppler.  God only knows what it felt like, because I was too numb to feel.

There were good memories too!  The Greers came into my life in a significant way at that time, and it's fun reading what I wrote about their middle son, TJ....my longest lasting crush who I finally married just to teach him a lesson for being so sexy.  How young and immature we were in those days!  Little did we kids know what the future held, that cold rainy weekend in January of 2007.  The below entry is copied and pasted from an old hard drive.

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January 4, Thursday

The Greers stopped by on their way home from Fresno and spent the night with us.  They arrived at 5 pm, as I was starting the barbecue.  It was good to see them all again!  They had taken all the bench seats except one out of the van, and had a mattress in the back for tired drivers.  They told us that on the overpass of 99 and Lerdo Hwy, Mitch and Mikki had such a pillow fight that the rear doors popped open and their stuff came flying out!  Talk about unconventional.  I'm glad they didn't come flying out!

It was a very stormy day today, with driving rain in the afternoon, and as I grilled the chicken the rain recommenced.  Nathan and Ben set up a canopy over the barbecue, but the chicken still didn't cook very well until Ben suggested putting the lid on. 

Supper was merry; I sat by Amy.  Afterwards while she and Mom did the dishes, T.J. decided to teach me some things about music that I didn't know.  First he showed me some stuff he'd just learned in music school, like the ranges of different singers for example.  According to him, tenors are usually low F to high B flat, while sopranos are only G below middle C to high G.  I kind of knew that already, but it was interesting.  T.J. is an interesting fellow.  If he knows anything about something, he thinks he's an expert.  If he doesn't know something, he just shrugs his shoulders and purses his lips in an attitude of profound ignorance--"I don't know, and you don't know either!"  I asked if he could read music, and when he said yes, I tested him on a simple piano piece.  He was confused or something--I don't know what was the matter--but he insisted that middle C was a D!  Now I am no music expert, and am always ready to learn something new, but I know my middle C like I know the back of my hand.  Even Daddy knows where middle C is!  Even if the bar was bass clef and not treble, that note would be E, not D.  However when I pointed that out to T.J., he was not convinced.  The argument waxed strong and hot, until I was beginning to doubt my senses, and wondered which of us had the marbles missing.  So I pulled out my theory book, and commented, "I'm going to win this argument and lose a friend."

"You're gonna lose both!"  was his instant reply.

I was right, and when I saw he saw that and he began to sputter and turn red, I hastily shut up the book and escaped to the kitchen.  What is it in me that makes me have to correct people?!

The Greers commenced passing out gifts right and left soon after they arrived.  They gave us a crank operated grater; bags full of toys for the little ones; various miscellaneous items; and a huge stack of beautiful hardwoods.  Amy gave me a little stand full of cards with verses and parts of verses, and I went through them quoting the rest of the passage or verse.

"You know all those already!" she exclaimed.  "Go give them to someone who doesn't!"

Then I came to Psalm 19, and she stopped my recitation with a smug smile: "No, no!  Say Psalm 119!"  I wish I had a picture of the look she got when I started right in, quoting, "Psalm 119, Aleph.  Blessed are the undefiled in the way, who walk in the law of the Lord. Blessed are they that keep His testimonies and that seek Him with the whole heart..."  I finished Aleph and said, "Do you want me to say the whole thing?"  (I didn't say I could say the whole thing! J) 

Then we gathered around the piano and spent the rest of the evening singing to the Lord!  That was a lot of fun.  They taught us some new songs, and we sang old songs too--"Just Over In The Glory Land"; "Leaning On Jesus"; "I Shall Not Be Moved", etc.  We badly needed a melody.  I am alto, so is Amy, T.J. is a very loud and enthusiastic tenor (with no thought of how he might be overwhelming everyone else!), and Ben is bass.  

After running out of songs (and air), we sat around the comfortable living room, talking, until ten pm.  Nathan complained that every time company comes, he has to sleep on the sofa, which (he says) is lumpy and uncomfortable.  Whereupon the boys gave us an utterly comical imitation of Nathan's complaint, T.J. putting on a most sorrowful face and falling over Nathan, while Ben was the picture of misery!

January 5, Friday

Ben & T.J. went to play basketball with Dad and Nathan early this morning, and they all seemed to enjoy themselves.  They came back bursting with the news that a semi truck had taken out the local Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant.  According to them, it demolished the place.  Thank God no one was killed or even hurt!  (Note: not only was the KFC never rebuilt, it is still an empty lot, and I remember this every time I drive past it. --Jenna 2017)

Breakfast was jolly.  Nathan and Ben constantly had their heads together on what they called 'Mad Scientist' experiments, namely chemical rockets shot off with a compound that included vitamin C.  The experiments failing, Nathan shot off several of his homemade powder/magnesium rockets, which are pretty impressive--especially at night.  Then we all took a walk around the fields to see the sheep, and the Greers finally gathered themselves completely into their van and left at 11:30--an hour later than they intended, as usual. J

January 7, Sunday

Nathan and all the little ones were sick, so we had to stay home from the meeting at the Lindvalls'. L  May the Lord's will be done!

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That last entry chilled my soul and tightened my stomach just now when I read it.  We did not know--I had no idea--that Nathan was not sick with the flu like my little sisters were that fateful Sunday.  For some reason which I will never know, his brain cancer had just kicked into full gear, and in about three weeks we would take him into emergency with a golf ball sized tumor.

I had no idea that the cute teenager who was able to push my buttons, and who knew an awful lot about music and washing dishes and random shit like that would grow up, lose his know-it-all ways, and become such an incredibly amazing person that I would fall head over heels in love and that we would have two beautiful little girls together (so far!)

I am glad we don't know the future.  It would be too much to bear!

Singing around the piano, 2007

Nathan and TJ arm wrestling!

Nathan was ridiculously strong and muscular.  And TJ was lots skinnier back then :-)

Someone actually took a shot of the music conversation described in my journal!

Jesus Paid It All? I Don't Think So!

It is 5:30 a.m. here in central southern California, on Easter morning.  However it's 3:30 p.m. in Israel, so the traditional time for Jesus' resurrection is long past--making early Easter morning services quite inaccurate.  We should be celebrating Easter at 7:30 on Saturday evening!

The subject of resurrection and immortality makes a fascinating study.  It is so interesting to note how almost every religion and tradition of men down the ages from the beginning of recorded history shows an unceasing search for immortality, whether through scientific or religious means.  Unfortunately, traditional Christianity has strayed away from the simple, correct definition of immortality in the Scriptures and has mixed into their theology so many teachings from famous church fathers and philosophers such as Augustine, John Calvin, Luther and others, that often it's hard to distinguish what is really Scripture and what is actually superstition imposed on the Bible.

One of the reasons I am writing this blog is to preserve online my thoughts on true religion and Christianity, so that if something should happen to me and my husband before our children are grown, they should know what we believe is right and God willing come to their own conclusions of the truth in spite of the teachings of most churches.

The death and resurrection of Jesus Christ is central and vital to Christianity.  There are four main subjects that my husband and I have studied and prayed over thoroughly and extensively over the past few years, and eventually I'd like to address them all in this poor little journal.  They are:

✡  Original Sin
✡ Hell and immortality
✡ Atonement
✡ God's Sovereignty

Wikipedia is remarkably accurate and concise when it comes to defining concepts and terms.  Quote, "Penal substitution derives from the idea that divine forgiveness must satisfy divine justice, that is, that God is not willing or able to simply forgive sin without first requiring a satisfaction for it. It states that God gave himself in the person of his Son, Jesus Christ, to suffer the death, punishment and curse due to fallen humanity as the penalty for our sin."

I don't want to go into too much detail here because I want to keep this blog short and interesting.  Suffice to say that we believe this is a false view of God and His mercy, and interestingly enough this view did not become prevalent in the church until the time of the Reformation, 1500 years after Christianity's birth.  Here, again, is what Wikipedia has to say on the subject, if you want to read further. 

According to the Bible and a correct understanding of God, the hymn Jesus Paid It All is inaccurate.  If Jesus actually paid the full price for sin, then there is no room at all for God's forgiveness.  How is it forgiveness if the debt is paid?  If I owe you $100, and someone else pays you $100 for me, you still got your freaking $100 and didn't forgive me at all.  

Romans 6:23 says "For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."  This verse is heavy with meaning, and in one fell swoop debunks two of the fallacies taught by the church today.  That is, penal substitution and the traditional teaching of hell (which I will save for a later blog post).  Jesus died the death instead of us--substitutionary atonement--that we might live forever.  He didn't "pay the price" for our sins.  No one could ever do that!  God forgives  us our sins, and doesn't kill us because of Jesus.

This is a very simplistic explanation.  I hope to go into more detail later, but I must stop for now.

In the news on the home front, Bella did the sweetest thing yesterday evening.  She was extremely tired, and after her bath and goodnight kisses from TJ, I took her into her room to put her to bed.  She looks at me and says in her sweet little voice, "Baby?  Nigh-nigh?"  She wanted to say goodnight to her little sister!  I brought her back out to the living room where Elizabeth was cooing away in her bouncer.  Bella kissed her and said, "Nigh-nigh Baby!"  TJ and I melted into two puddles of rapture at our little girls' love for each other.  It's so precious and amazing!  TJ said to me, "I think we've done it right [as parents] so far!!"

Bella reading to her sister

Blown Away

The wind blew fiercely and relentlessly.  Gusting, wailing, singing, moaning, driving everything before it--invisible and yet all too real.  It roared in my ears, it whipped my hair viciously, it sent flying anything that wasn't nailed down.  Bella was curious and stoic.  She sat there in the stroller, taking it all in with her large blue eyes squinting in the high desert sun.  Elizabeth was not so calm!  It didn't matter how many blankets and coats I bundled her in, she screamed her little head off, sobbing with shuddering breaths whenever the wind made it past the barrier of my body and all the blankets.  After about two minutes I realized this wasn't going to work!  We wanted to have a nice fun relaxing afternoon enjoying the flowers in the Antelope Poppy Preserve, but the wind was determined not to allow it this time!

Tante Anita volunteered to stay in the car with the baby.  The wind blew so violently that the car rocked and shuddered beneath the blast!  Christina and I walked around a bit with Bella and snapped pictures, but after an hour my head was singing and I had no feeling in my ears.  Bella still took it in stride, pointing out birds and wanting to get down and run away, laughing when we chased her.  She is one tough little cookie!

And so ended our adventure to the poppy fields.  The last time I was there was with my whole family and the Atwells in 2010.  I remember it was just as windy and gusty, and the flowers refused to open.  Oh well, we'll try again next year!

Elizabeth does not approve of the wind!!!

Christina takes pictures

7 years ago!

Grandma was visiting us in 2010.  She's on hospice now with only a few months left to live.

All of us 7 years ago.

The poppies don't like the wind either!

From Sunrise to Sunrise

Have you ever watched the sunrise twice without going to bed?  I did this the day before yesterday.  Pulling an all-nighter has always been a challenge for me, and I've only managed it three times.  And then I drop dead the next day, feeling lousy and like I have to prop open my eyelids with toothpicks.  I don't know how TJ does it regularly!!

Tuesday night I had fun helping my husband re-grout the tile in a Panda Express restaurant.  Actually, "fun" is a rather exaggerated word!  There were fun moments: planning the project and shopping at Home Depot together; arriving at the bewitching hour of midnight when all reasonable human beings are safely tucked away in bed; the heady responsibility of being entrusted with a key to a large establishment, and permission to use the soda fountain to our hearts' content; looking into my dear husband's eyes and seeing his pure delight in knowing I will be working along side of him, doing desperately hard physical labor that many women cannot do.

The rest of that night was a blur of pain and sheer mental exhaustion.  My body cried out for sleep, and my wrists ached from chiseling out hard 1/4" grout from between six inch tiles by hand.  We tried using the grinder, and it helped but billowed dust everywhere, necessitating the use of suffocating plastic sheeting to cover everything.

I passed the time by listening to the adventures of Allan Quatermain in Marie, by H. Rider Haggard.  Laughing aloud at the antics of his faithful servant Hans the Hottentot helped the tedious hours pass, and it was in a fog of drowsiness and with every muscle in our bodies aching that we watched the dawn, cold and crisp, before ever lying down to rest.

TJ grinding tile with the protective sheeting all around.

Here is the funny part: dear TJ had to work the next night doing the same thing (I slept all day and all the next night too!)  He came home at 4 a.m., chuckling with glee as he climbed into bed next to me.  "Guess what," he said.  "Look at this!"  And he shows me a video of him using a multi-tool with a grout removal bit, which merrily took down the grout in no time without damaging either the tile or the person using it.  All our pain and agony could have been avoided, and without the evil dust choking us!

Anyway it was fun, but I'm not repeating the experiment.  The hardest part was being away from my sweet little girlies.  I missed them so!  I'm so thankful for my sister Leah.  She took excellent care of the babies and I had no worries, knowing she was at home with them.  On breaks I would collapse on a chair in the restaurant and watch videos of my darlings on my phone.  They are so sweet and growing up so fast!  My little Lizzy-Bee smiles her biggest smiles and coos when she sees her big sister, and Bella loves her baby sister so much!  Today Elizabeth decided to set up a howl when I was in the shower, and before I could attend to her Bella woke up from her nap because of the noise.  She sat up in bed, her lower lip trembling.  "Baby?" she said in her soft little voice. "Crying?"  I reassured her that I was taking care of the baby, but she wanted to go see and make sure.   Sometimes I'm overwhelmed by the sheer privilege and responsibility of caring for my dear little Sweet-Peas.

It is midnight and I must hit the hay.  I'm trying to make it a discipline to write something every day.  Tonight I want to thank God for the blessing of warm, soft beds to sleep on, and a good roof over our heads.

Who Put Wings on My Money?!!

"Cast but a glance at riches, and they are gone, for they will surely sprout wings and fly off to the sky like an eagle." Proverbs 23:5

Our budgeting lesson last night was really good!  We are on lesson 4 of Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University course, and TJ and I are finding it very helpful.  TJ's already familiar with Dave Ramsey and his principles of saving money, reducing debt, and "living like no one else so that later we can live, like no one else!"  I wish with all my heart that I had known this stuff when I was a young adult just earning money!  If I had started saving and investing as a teen, our little family would have never had to go into debt at all, and we would already have some nice savings started.  I am thankful that I never went into debt (until I bought my second car, that is!), but I had almost no savings when I got married to show for working full time for seven years.  That is just sooooo sad!!!  I didn't know any better though, and I didn't have a plan for my finances.  

TJ has a much better excuse than I do for being broke ass poor.  His parents never paid him anything for all his years and years of working for them, and so he literally had no money until he got his first job delivering pizza and moved out.  And then we got married a year later.   He still would have been fine except that he totaled his car and went through three cars and three months....then he met a girl, and that is expensive (wink wink!)  (I am not an expensive girlfriend, per se.  Most of our dates were taking long walks all over town, or driving to see people.  But it still adds up!)

My spending habits are still in the process of being curbed and retrained, and it can be painful at times!  I'm not the kind of person who goes out and buys tons of useless stuff and maxes out credit cards with new shoes and things like that.  I'm the kind of person who maxes out credit cards with "bargains" and "sales...."  "It's only $5!  We will need it at some point!  It's only $10 and would be sooo useful for the house!  Ooooh look at that adorable outfit for the girls!!!  It's only $20!"  And I twenty dollared us into a bit of credit card debt--not much compared to most people, but enough to be very uncomfortable and expensive (credit cards charge ridiculously high interest!!!)

I believe with all my heart that financial training, advice, and counseling should be an absolutely essential part of every child's schooling from a young age--no matter if they're public schooled or home schooled or any other kind of schooled.  How else are they going to get a good start in life?  This is why 49% of young men under 30 still live with their parents these days!

Financial counseling is far more important for young couples than "marriage counseling" in my opinion.  If finances are the number ONE cause of divorce these days--and they are!--logically shouldn't financial counseling be essential?!  It would very quickly show whether a young couple was compatible and had the same goals in life or not!

Money is slippery stuff with a mind of it's own, and has to be taught and beaten into submission.  We are currently in the beating process, and I am enjoying it.  I like telling my money what to do!  Sometimes it gets away from me again, but the accountability I have with my husband and our friends the Geersens is incredibly helpful.  God bless you, you wonderful people!

Light At The End of The Tunnel!

Today is a tremendously full, busy day.  My house is a complete wreck because I am rearranging furniture as well as cleaning and organizing, in between taking care of the girls and creating a new filing system for our important documents.  And this evening we're going to our Dave Ramsey class at the Geersens.  So today's entry will be short.  Here is a joke:

An Arkansas Delivery
     In the backwoods of Arkansas, Mr. Stewart's wife went into labor in the middle of the night.  The doctor was called in to assist in the delivery.  To keep the nervous father-to-be busy, the doctor handed him a lantern and said, "Here, hold this up high so I can see what I'm doing."
     Soon, a baby boy was brought into the world.  "Don't be in a rush to put the lantern down," said the doctor, "I think there's another wee one to come."  Sure enough, within minutes he had delivered another baby.
     "Now don't be in a great hurry to be putting down that lantern, young man.  It seems there's yet another!" cried the doctor.
     The new father scratched his head in bewilderment.  "Do ya think it's the light attracting them?" he asked.

Don't Let the Bedbugs Bite!

Credit Miranda Nichole Photography

"Good night, sleep tight

Don't let the bedbugs bite

If they do,

Take a shoe,

And beat them black and blue!"

This is a little rhyme my Mom used to say growing up, and I believe she got it from Grandma--so it's been passed down a generation or two.  I used to wonder why there would be bugs in one's bed.

Our cat is a snuggle bug too!

Anyway, my babies are growing up and leaving my bed already. 😢  TJ and I are big believers in co-sleeping.  I remember when Bella was born, I had read and researched and decided that our babies would sleep in a bassinet next to us, and not be allowed in the bed.  First night home from the hospital: Bella was 10 days old and a tiny 4 lbs 5 oz, and it was a cold night.  Being a nervous first time mother with a preemie, I woke up an hour later to check on her, and she was freezing.  As in, ice cold--when I took her out of her bassinet, even though she was swaddled and everything like I learned from the professionals, it was like holding a tiny ice cube.  And she didn't even wake up!  This scared my poor inexperienced mama's heart so badly that she went straight into our bed where I could cuddle her cold little body to me and warm her up.  She was fine, and didn't sleep one night out of our bed until about three weeks ago at age almost 18 months.  Our cuddle times with her were so precious!  She'd snuggle up to us and watch TJ play his Marvel Champions game or me on Facebook on our phones.  As she got older she developed a preference for doggy and kitty videos on Youtube.  Also epic fails--she loves those!

We still do our little evening ritual of praying with her and cuddling her till she falls asleep, but now she sleeps all night in her own bed--a full sized mattress in her own room.  And she does great!  She runs to her room now and says "Nigh-nigh!" when she's tired.

We decided to banish her to her own room when she double kicked us both in the face at the same time, hard.  Ouch!  The first time when we put her down and let her cry for a bit before falling asleep, I cried much harder than she did.  TJ had to comfort me and keep telling me that it's good for her to grow up!  It's hard, when I have spent the last year and a half snuggling her warm little self and having her little arms around my neck and her face pressed against mine all night.  I guess now I have to cuddle my husband again. LOL! *winky face*

 Last night for the first time instead of crying when she woke up, she climbed off her bed and navigated the dark hall successfully to our room at 5 a.m. all by herself, and snuggling in bed with us.  I love how she's so attached to us!

Lizzy Bee on the other hand is an independent little munchkin.  After the first month or two in our bed (yes it was crowded!! See video), she decided she preferred elbow room.  Now she wiggles and squeaks until I move her to her own bed after a night nursing.

So I am already baby-less in bed.  It's sad that they're growing up so quickly, but my amazing hubby TJ consoles me very thoroughly and everything is okay. 😜

Fly, Little Birdie, Fly!

Our parents--and their generation--grew up in the 70's and 80's, when evil rock and roll music was king and the hippies of the sixties had convinced the majority of teenagers that drugs and sex was awesome stuff, and the Cold War was in full swing with a possibility of nuclear annihilation at any moment.  Our parents got married and had kids, took one look at the world in which they had to raise their children, snatched their precious babies to their hearts and figuratively fled into the wilderness like the Lykov family.

I have every sympathy for them.  I gaze into my sweet, tiny, helpless baby daughter's innocent face, kiss her button nose and soak in every moment of her baby coos, smiles, and laughs, think of the rapists and murderers and molesters out there and am filled with the desire to press her to my heart and never ever let go.  (Also am filled with the desire to go on a criminal killing rampage like the Punisher!)

But children are like fresh watermelon seeds.  The harder you squeeze them, the farther they'll fly from you!

Yesterday I had great fun doing a bit of artwork.  It's been a while since I've done any drawing, but I created a series of cartoons illustrating what it feels like to be isolated because of your parents' fears.  (Not the one above--I pulled that off the internet and am not sure who to credit it to.)  I grew up on a little hobby farm out in the boondocks.  Mom had a fascination with the pioneers who settled this country and the hardships they faced, and admired the courage and fortitude with which they conquered the wilderness with few tools and little help except their own resourcefulness.  She decided that her children would be survivors, and know how to do a little of just about everything.  Ergo, she wouldn't allow a dishwasher, stand mixer, microwave, or other labor saving devices in our house.  How were we ever going to know how to wash the dishes if we had a dishwasher in the kitchen?

By Jenna Greer

Sounds great, right?  Problem: a huge part of my parents' child-raising philosophy was the idea that isolation was the solution, and evil must be avoided at all costs.  If you protect your innocent child from everything bad, keeping them securely in a titanium alloy bubble and teaching them only the right way, they will know automatically what is wrong and be sweet and godly forever.  Avoiding evil in our case meant avoiding anything our parents didn't care for or that didn't exactly fit their opinion of godliness.  This included jewelry of any kind (including wedding rings), pants on girls, movies, TV, books that had any traces of violence (including history books), swimming (made your clothes stick to you so wasn't modest), music with a beat, sex (the subject and anything remotely pertaining thereto was strictly verboten), and friends (who might influence you wrongly).  Even the few friends we had were closely and immediately supervised at all times.

By Jenna Greer

The human species is sentient.  We can feel and think to an extent that animals cannot, and our hearts are inclined to sin and self destruction.  Capturing hearts is what's needed, and oddly enough in order to capture a child's heart, in my experience so far that means to let it go!  (I am speaking from my experience of being a child.  My own children are still so young that I can't claim experience yet of really raising a child.😉)  Attributing evil to things that are amoral is pointing fingers in the wrong direction.  And avoidance of a question is never healthy!  Notice how the parents in the illustration above aren't really involved in the child's life.  They stay outside the bubble, never entering her world and feeling what she feels.  They are the authority in her life, and she'd better listen to them or else!  They are asking for complete, blind trust in them and that she submit to what they think is best no matter what.  This is scary--this is how abuse happens and how tyrants are born.  The only person you must give complete trust and loyalty to is Jesus Christ Himself!

People are flawed, people are sinners.  In our relationships there must be give and take at all times.  I want to be humble and listen to my children and their thoughts and feelings, and be willing to repent and apologize to them if necessary.  I am practicing now with my relationship with my husband.  I don't believe in submitting to my husband in the sense that I'm his robot who does whatever he says without thinking.  (I will be writing a post about that soon!)  And I don't want my children to submit to me like that either.  I am, of course, talking about when they grow up a bit.  If I tell my toddler not to run out in the street, she'd better obey without question!  But she is welcome at all times to ask questions, and I will be very happy to explain to her why she shouldn't cross the street, and when it is safe to do so!

By Jenna Greer

   This is a scary illustration.  The parents are still on the outside of their daughter's bubble, but she has finally realized, like Rapunzel in Tangled, that there is a world outside her bubble that her parents are denying her, and she has gone from pleading with them to resentful and angry.  Her parents see the scary demons lurking about waiting to pounce upon their precious daughter, and are terrified to let her go.  Good things like a job, boyfriend, and adult responsibilities are in the parents' minds simply allowing the demons access to their daughter.  The future is scary and dark to all three individuals--but the daughter is at the breaking point.  "When will my life begin?" she is thinking.  And she has turned all her pent up rage and anger on the ones she's perceived as imprisoning her.  Again, notice the complete lack of communication between all three individuals in this illustration.

By Jenna Greer

This final step is inevitable in about 99%  of the cases.  (I am just throwing out a number--I don't have actual statistics).  I have seen this happen over and over and over again.  It didn't happen to me for two reasons.  First, because I had become a Christian and repented of my rage and hatred, and knew it was wrong.  Secondly, because by the time I reached the breaking point, my parents had begun to wise up and realize that in order to keep me, they had to let me go.  I'm so thankful they did!  But I have seen the damage that apron-strings do.  The heartbreaking, irreparable damage.  I have seen the wounds left by tight apron-strings--wounds on both parties.  Arrows are meant to fly, not rust in the quiver forever.  Birds will grow atrophied and die if they can't leave the nest.

By Jenna Greer

 This second series of illustrations is what my husband and I hope to do for our children.  We know that we will not be around to protect our babies 100% of the time, and we don't want to have to protect them 100% of the time.

By Jenna Greer

Notice how her parents are her coaches and cheerleaders, guiding her but letting her handle life's demons herself--not doing it for her.  A good martial arts teacher knows his students will never learn to defend themselves if he always does it for them, even if he feels he could do it better.  It is degrading and humiliating for a young person if their parents have to continually fight their battles for them.  There is a tremendous sense of self worth and feeling of accomplishment when a child successfully deals with a difficulty all by himself!

If they are not fully independent as adults, not only will they not be able to care for themselves, but they won't be able to care for others and they will be a burden to society.  This would be incredibly tragic!  Many children lose their parents.  We have no guarantee that we will live to see tomorrow.   I hope and pray that I will always be around for them, to be their support team and cheer them on.  I want them to know they can always talk with me about anything and that I'll love them no matter what.  But I have no guarantee that will happen, and so I pray and research and bounce ideas off my husband all the time.

Our daughters will be strong, beautiful, independent young ladies who will have the wisdom and protection of knowing their parents trust and believe in them, and will always be there for them (God helping us!)  I am so proud of my girls.  Every step of the way so far has been a pure delight!  I love teaching them stuff so much.

By Jenna Greer

The sooner they learn responsibility, the better.  By the time my Sweet-pea and little Sunshine are legally adults at age 18, if they aren't fully capable of living on their own, with a car and a job and a nice savings account, I will have failed as a mother (quote Beverly Goldberg).

By Jenna Greer

With great freedom comes great responsibility.  The family is the core of society.  This is why it is so important for our children to be independent!  If they are raised in a strong, Godly family with a Biblical foundation....if they are not afraid of the truth no matter how uncomfortable it might be....if their parents have modeled a healthy, loving marriage relationship....if they are allowed to make their own mistakes and their own choices and dream big dreams....then they will have absolutely no reason to rebel.  There will be nothing to rebel against!  My daughters (and sons someday) have my full blessing to go out into the world, make their own decisions, and hopefully be inspired to begin families of their own.  Heck, they will think getting married and raising kids is the funnest, most glorious occupation on earth! 😉  And yes, we will scar them for life with our PDA, my handsome husband and me.  They will always know that their parents love each other so much that we literally won't need them--we have each other.  We won't need them, but we will want them, oh so much.  Our babies will forever be welcome in our home.  But fly, little birdies.  We love you and are proud of your beautiful wings!

An Insult To The Pigs

The sunrise this morning.

My side job, which enables me to help with the bills and debt, is purely based on the selfishness and basic thoughtlessness of the human race.  Picking up trash off the ground in designated parking areas and sidewalks, changing trash cans, and cleaning up around dumpsters has been a part of my life ever since a couple of years ago when I started helping my husband T.J. with his weekend side work of doing the same thing.  It's like seeing, smelling, and handling the bottoms of everybody's shoes and changing everybody's diapers for them.  T.J. hates it, but I have learned to enjoy many aspects of the work and tolerate the rest of it....mostly.  Until I sling a wet trash bag a bit carelessly into the dumpster and it sprays me in the face with noxious juices, or until I find that somebody has used my parking lot as their personal lavatory and I have to clean up the aftermath.  Ewwww.  Just ew.  I kiss the feet of the person who invented disposable rubber gloves!  Here are the few things I enjoy about this job.

❈I have the privilege of making a small corner of the world cleaner.  Yay!

❈I get to indulge in my bottles and cans collecting fetish.  It isn't that I think recycling in and of itself is such a hot idea (I will save further thoughts on the subject for a different post), but it's free money!

❈I find treasures almost every day!  Everything from a heavy, beautiful desk in perfect condition, to a lovely hardback anatomy book with colorful pictures that I rescued.  It's fun never knowing what I'll find next!  People throw away the darndest things.

❈I am forced to get up early in the morning.  I hate getting up, but I love being up!  Everything is quiet and dark and fresh and new, and I have the world to myself.  I make coffee, pray, think, check Facebook, and enjoy the sunrise.  Oh and I get some work done too!

❈And, the best part, is the sweet paycheck I claim as a reward for my labors.  I love how T.J. and I are partners who share the burden of supporting and caring for our little household equally.  I perform extremely valuable labor taking care of our children and upkeeping our house.  But if I want to earn a little actual dough as well, my amazing hubby is fully supportive!

So anyway, this is what you will find me doing every morning at 5:30 A.M.  Cleaning up people's filth.  It's an insult to the pigs to compare the shit I find to them.  No, humans are not as filthy as pigs.  I've raised pigs before.  They are dirtier than pigs.  Just saying!  Respect the bacon.

May 2015

I will close with this poem by one of my favorite auhors, Shel Silverstein.  Always take the garbage out, people!  And please make sure it goes completely into the dumpster or trash can.  Thank you! 😁

SARAH CYNTHIA SYLVIA STOUT
WOULD NOT TAKE THE GARBAGE OUT

Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout 

Would not take the garbage out! 

She'd scour the pots and scrape the pans, 

Candy the yams and spice the hams, 

And though her daddy would scream and shout, 

She simply would not take the garbage out. 

And so it piled up to the ceilings: 

Coffee grounds, potato peelings, 

Brown bananas, rotten peas, 

Chunks of sour cottage cheese. 

It filled the can, it covered the floor, 

It cracked the window and blocked the door 

With bacon rinds and chicken bones, 

Drippy ends of ice cream cones, 

Prune pits, peach pits, orange peel, 

Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal, 

Pizza crusts and withered greens, 

Soggy beans and tangerines, 

Crusts of black burned buttered toast, 

Gristly bits of beefy roasts. . . 

The garbage rolled on down the hall, 

It raised the roof, it broke the wall. . . 

Greasy napkins, cookie crumbs, 

Globs of gooey bubble gum, 

Cellophane from green baloney, 

Rubbery blubbery macaroni, 

Peanut butter, caked and dry, 

Curdled milk and crusts of pie, 

Moldy melons, dried-up mustard, 

Eggshells mixed with lemon custard, 

Cold french fried and rancid meat, 

Yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat. 

At last the garbage reached so high 

That it finally touched the sky. 

And all the neighbors moved away, 

And none of her friends would come to play. 

And finally Sarah Cynthia Stout said, 

"OK, I'll take the garbage out!" 

But then, of course, it was too late. . . 

The garbage reached across the state, 

From New York to the Golden Gate. 

And there, in the garbage she did hate, 

Poor Sarah met an awful fate, 

That I cannot now relate 

Because the hour is much too late. 

But children, remember Sarah Stout 

And always take the garbage out!

Shel Silverstein, 1974 

I Am A Criminal

Photo credit http://www.dallaspolice.net/

My heart sank when I noticed the red and blue flashing lights in the rear view mirror.  Finding a safe place to pull over, I fished my wallet out of my purse as the officer approached the car.

"Ma'am, the reason I pulled you over is you were going 35 miles an hour in a 25 zone," he told me, pointing to the numbers on his radar gun.

Red and blue are two of my very favorite colors.  But I did not like those colors yesterday!  For the first time in my 12 years and 200,000+ miles of driving, I received my first speeding ticket.  The officer was very nice and tried to make me feel better by telling me he has received much worse citations for speeding himself.  I could tell he felt bad for me, but I deserved it and April is No Mercy Month I guess.  Anyway, even though I cried a little the sheer irony of the situation made me want to laugh.  Our supposedly quiet little street is plagued by drag racers from the local high school raising merry hell, making me nervous for the safety of my little ones.  My neighbors apparently reported it so often to our local police that they set up a speed trap, which caught peace loving, law abiding little me neatly in it's black and white jaws.

It's embarrassing.

If I get a ticket I want it to be for real speeding, or doing donuts in the middle of the interstate or something exciting like that.

I was literally pulled over one block from my house.  Seriously....that's just not funny. (Cue my husband dying of laughter!)

Thank you Officer for making our streets safer by giving me a ticket!

If just one hell-raising dragster is caught, the ticket will be worth it.  Bella has scared the shit out of me several times already by running out the front door to the street when my back is turned for two seconds.

This reminds me of my current favorite TV show.  America's Dumbest Criminals was on for 4 seasons from 1996-2000, hosted by David Butler, and I recently discovered it on Amazon Prime.  I laugh till I pee my pants at the ball-busting idiocy of the real life situations portrayed on this show!  My current favorite is the bright guy who tried to rob a convenience store where the owner was armed.  Apparently all the local gangsters knew better than to stick up this particular joint, but this was an out-of-town bonehead who wanted some free cash and packed the key that opens all cash registers on his hip--or so he thought.  (This was all caught on security cameras!)  Crook walks up to the counter, reaches towards his waist and starts to say,

"This is a rob--"

Before he can get the words past his tonsils, the guy behind the counter whips out a 9 mm and nails the nitwit in the leg with two shots.  Criminal drags himself out of the store to the emergency room, where the cops pick him up in short order.  This is my favorite part: the video of the guy on his hospital bed when the cops are interviewing him.  The crook is outraged, and keeps exclaiming,

"It's just NOT FAIR!  It's not fair....He could have at least let me finish what I was saying before he shot me!  It was so rude, and not fair at all...."

This is why responsible citizens need to keep their guns.

This is why America's Dumbest Criminals is the most hilarious show ever.

This is why I'm glad it is no longer running, because they would probably be delighted to include in an episode the story of the girl who was stopped for speeding one block from her house.