Prince Harry fights in Afghanistan. This story broke yesterday on Drudge Report. If you don't know Drudge, he's a maverick in the news business... he runs that site, and he has the news consistently before anyone else. He became famous for breaking the Lewinsky/Clinton story back in the day.

Anyway, the synopsis of this Harry story is, Prince Harry (Diana's younger son) joined the army last year... maybe 2 years ago, I'm not sure. And he wanted to go and fight in the war. But they wouldn't let him go to Iraq because he's 3rd in line for the throne and it was too much of a security risk.

Then, about 3 months ago, he is deployed and secretly goes to fight on the front lines in Afgahnistan. And get this- the government over there made a deal to keep it hush-hush. Their reporters have known about this and did not tell. Also, the men that he's fighting beside did not leak the news. Amazing. I can't believe they got that kind of cooperation from the media. Of course, the minute the American press heard about it, it was international news.

Part of me is annoyed with Drudge for breaking the story, because now Harry has to stop being a regular guy and go back to the palace and the constant scrutiny. On the other hand, somebody was going to report this, and Drudge makes a career of knowing before anyone else.

Then there's an element of why did Harry have to go over there when he puts everyone around him in danger just by virtue of being such a large target? He has expressed frustration with the royal life, and he just wants to be able to live normally. But is there an obligation by being royal to be responsible? I don't know.

And then I feel sorry for him, because he is not able to do what he wants to with his life, and now he has to come home because his cover's been blown.

Oh, and evidently he was an awesome soldier. Led 3 missions and whatnot. Di's boys are already international heartthrobs... this makes Harry even more so.

Anyway, it's very interesting.

Brynn is pukey. What are the odds... yesterday was the first day she ever sat up in the basket part at Walmart. And of course she put her mouth on the bar, we don't have a cover yet. Then she wakes up puking last night... sigh.
I received the offering, and told the MOG to turn on the light.. and there she is, in our bed... sicky and all wet and SMILING. She was so happy to see us... what a cutie. Anyhoo, that's the deal-eo today. Puke. I feel a little nauseous myself, talking about it.

>>Link>> This is NOT good news.

In other news, my inner healing class was really good last night. I don't know how much traditional inner healing I need. I mean, I wasn't abused by anyone, and my parents were great. My wounds are all from my life imploding as an adult... people were dropping like flies for a while in my early 20's. So that's where I got most jacked up.

But anyhoo, last night was all about Father Wounding, which is, you know, how your dad wounded you and screwed up your life by being such a loser in your childhood. And a lot of people had bad dads, so I know that pain is valid. I just think I've been through the issues of my own heart enough that I'm pretty cautious about throwing stones. And that's kind of what this class is, throwing stones and hitting your pillow and letting it all out. Like I said, valid. But uh, a little elementary. Not that I've arrived. I've just had excellent training in my family and through MCF, and I like that kind of personal accountability better.

So anyways, last night I realized that my dad was a great dad. No real complaints. He was far from a perfect person, but a good dad. But still, there's this disconnect between me and God as a father. So that's where I was last night. Dealing with my disappointment with God, and releasing Him from that... (for my sake) and just trying to open myself up to love Him and trust Him again. And I wept copiously, although not as loudly as the small group next door who were hitting things (not really) and gasping and groaning and WHY-ing and so on. It's not funny, it's good they are getting healed.
But it is a little funny.

I have nothing to say.

That being said, I wish I could take a nap. All the elements are in place but my wee brain will not go to sleep. And now I have whiled away naptime and Toby will wake up any minute and I will.still.be.tired.

Sheesh.

This is a clip from Saturday Night Live... holier folk than I will deny ever watching this show. But when Huckabee makes headlines for a skit, you better believe I be hittin the Youtube. So there you go.


Somebody... probably Snarky Anonimi asked me the other day about Huck. Here's the deal. It is not outside the realm of possibilty for God to put this guy in office. It is, however, unlikely. I still like him a lot and I understand why he is still in the race. Far too many conservatives are just not happy with McCain and he is presenting an alternative. Power to him. If McCain gets the official nomination in a couple of months, then Huck will quit campaigning. I wish he could win. But you know, regardless, I like the guy and I think he is VERY funny.

So my political plan, because I know you're dying to hear, is to brush up on all the other offices. And vote for as many pro-life, conservative candidates as I can for all the other offices. And possibly leave my ballot blank for Prez. That's the current plan.

Another one of those days when technology comes back around and just bites you in the butt... figuratively speaking.
I captured a 3 minute video of Toby dancing to Toby Mac... it was perfect. And somehow I deleted it before it imported. I can hear my dad from heaven, "Technology? Sounds like user malfunction to me!"
(sigh)
Regardless, or irregardless if you prefer, it's gone. And I was going to post it here. Now I will have to catch him in that mood again and try to catch another jam session. Cest la vie.

It's Friday, finally. The MOG has a block of time at home today, althought thus far it has been spent praying in the basement. Deep praying, I suspect from the crease marks on his forehead. (In his defense, he was praying when I went down there a while ago)
I am now sequestered in my room. Bean is sleeping in here, R2 is chilling with Nemo and Toby is in his room, napping. Which includes scooting his bed around the room and falling down and screaming between short silences that are probably aborted nap attempts. Whatevs. The point is, I am, for some intents and purposes, alone. I should read. Good day.

I have this thing... strange crying moments. I don't know what it's called.... here's how it goes. I can be watching TV, or out in public, whatever. And I see someone talented. Like a children's dance act or someone singing. And I just start crying.
Here's a weird part. I don't have to like the singer, or whatever. Just something grabs my heart and I cry. Surprises me every time.
I usually feel like a goof, I mean, who cries at Star Search? Or some kid singing the anthem? I do, evidently.

---

So last night the little guys and I watched Idol. Toby has clear favorites... there's the rocker nurse chick, and he just jumps up and starts busting a groove. I don't like her, but if he could vote...
I think I have an inborn prejudice toward long-haired blonde singers. I automatically don't like 'em. I like sassy black soul singers. Just my .02.

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Fear not, readers. My spiritual journey continueth. Updates on that sometime when I have words for it. Peace out.

Last night was my second inner healing class... I was relieved to find I am not suffering greatly from Mother Wounding. It was interesting, though. In our small group time about half of the women were just sobbing and I really wanted to pray for them. (It's against the rules, only the group leaders can lay hands) But it was cool that my heart was moved and I actually wanted to reach out to someone else. It was a good class... sometimes I think I could teach it, but you know, I'm not all that. I am trying to turn off the analytics and receive from God for myself. So that's that.

In other news, American Idol is in full swing and I have selected a few favorites. Anybody with me?

In other, other news, I am sick of diapers. I clean up more human waste than a sewage company. Sheesh.

Fidel Castro has resigned. Or, is he dead? Time might tell. Maybe him and Osama have a nice cabana somewhere... or not.
His brother has taken the helm at the sprightly age of 76. No offense to my friends and family who have reached senior status, but uh, isn't that kind of old to start running a country? I'm just saying.
So Arafat and Hussein are gone, and probably Castro. These are historical days... I guess all days are historical, but these old-timers kicking the bucket is big news.
Who knows what the world will look like in 10 years... people I went to high school with will be eligible to run for President. Yikes. May God have mercy on our souls.

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In other news, no news. Just chillin in the house with the wee folk, toying with productivity. Trying to get motivated to start dinner... but the MOG is fasting and the young gents would like pbjs as much or better than beef stroganoff. And so I blog.

Last week, I guess Friday, R2 was out playing in the backyard and he drove his little car into a rut. He then proceeded to get very very mad and bash his head into the steering wheel approximately 5000 times (exaggeration) before I made it across the yard to stop him. At the time it was pretty crushing to me, I hate it when he hurts himself. Now, it's just one of those things... you deal with with a special needs kid.
The problem is, he bruised his head pretty magnificently. As in, a dark oval bruise going from his hairline to the top of his nose. He looks like a Klingon. He doesn't appear to be in any pain... he has forgotten about it. But we, the family are probably sequestered here all week until it heals... the police and whatnot.
Last night we went out to eat to celebrate our tax return... we made him wear a baseball cap. He really hated it. But he wore it.

I don't know how we're going to teach him to cope with his frustration... we will have to figure out something. One thing that occurs to me, is controlling MY frustration... when I knock into things 10000 times a day, when I drop dishes, etc.

So that's that. A week in. Maybe I will finally go through all the clothes and get rid of stuff. More stuff. Again.

jESS,

How old were you when you first KNEW that God had a purpose for your life, and what were you doing at that time?

Well...
This is a little tricky for me. I got "saved" when I was 16. I got "saved" more when I was 19, in Issues of the Heart. And I need to get "saved" now. So I don't really know.
You know, I just believe that there has to be fruit. And I've got little to no fruit that I'm looking at, in terms of disciples and or/fruits of the Spirit. And you can go ahead and say, Hey! You're patient and kind and blah blah blah. But that won't really cut it, because I live with me. And so I know.
Before I lost the twins, I felt a lot of purpose. I really loved being a part of what Radiant was doing, and I was getting so excited and faith-filled and seeing people get healed and such. Then the twins, and I just got shell-shocked, or sidelined or something. I was sick of fighting, and I sat down. So here I am nearly 5 years later and not really sure how to stop the crazy train.

I want to be passionate and filled with vision. And I keep waiting for the kickstart that will make it easy to get back where I was, or even grow past that. My fear is, maybe there is no kickstart. And maybe I have to motivate myself to pursue a God that confuses the heck out of me. Don't misunderstand me... I love Him. I want to serve Him. But I don't get Him sometimes. If He would just capture me, that would be a heck of a lot easier than trying to love Him so that I have any desire for Him or love for people at all.

Sorry if that's a depressing answer. You just happened to catch me at a particularly purpose-less stage.

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Submit your creative writing ideas and I'll blog on one of them next week!

I made it to the Y today... treadmilled for 30 minutes whilst Brynn wailed. Hopefully we're building endurance and not just breaking her spirit. Toby also expressed his emotions at a healthy volume for a while... next week I'm bringing headphones (earbuds, actually) to plug into the treadmill. UNLESS I choose to go to "Body Blast" aerobics or water aerobics... but they're like an hour long and I don't know if my clarklings can handle being dropped off that long. We shall see.

I received a really gorgeous bouquet last night... red carnations and a few roses and other red flowers... it's so vibrant and bright. I love it. I love flowers. I bought the boys heart balloons and one of them (the balloons) escaped today while we were out. We thought it was a lost cause but it got snagged in a low tree and I was able to rescue it. :)

So now Toby is sharing his opinion of naptime in a determined, passionate and persistent manner. Too bad. The MOG is about to leave for the house o' prayer with R2, and Bean and I will have an hour or two to ourselves at home.

So there you go, there's the update. Much love to all my family and friends and even rodents and mutants out there in the blogpshere. Happy Valentines!

bright
smiles and blue eyes

brynn means hopeful, you know
you remind me every day

deep
my heart aches over you
tiny one, my baby girl

you bring joy
in countless ways
and you aren't even trying

you are beauty and song
we celebrate you
with kisses and nicknames
and the ocassional piledrive from a brother

feminine
your rosebud lips and dainty charm
tiny fingers and fingernails always reaching

happy 1st year, let's have a hundred more
mommy

Now, yesterday I didn't post till 4 something... and those are some cute videos. So if you haven't, go and watch the vids.
My goal today was, if everyone was awake by the time R1 had to leave for class, we would throw our pajama-ed selves into the van and drop him off, so's we could have the van, see? And wouldn'tcha know it, it worked. So we came back home and ate breakfast and did 4000 diapers and so on and then we went to the Y. Now, we started getting billed for our Y membership on the 1st. But until today, I hadn't gone up there. (the childcare is from 8-noon, and it hadn't worked out) So today, off we went. It was a breezy 42 degrees in my garage, and so I forgot my jacket. Unfortunately, the parking is terrible at the Y, and did I mention it was NINETEEN degrees outside of my garage. All the kids were dressed for the Arctic, but I was not so fortunate. So back here to wrestle with the stroller and over here for this kid and over here for these two, and then waaaaaaaay across the parking lot and up the sidewalk, to the North Pole. And of course there are no automatic doors (for a community organization, Y's are notoriously NOT handicapped accessible). So finally we got in and I don't know if I have EVER been that cold.

I put the little people in Child Watch, which appears to be exactly that. Two women casually watching as children do stuff. Toby was all for it. I made it 15 minutes on the treadmill before Bean lost it and could not be consoled. Next time (tomorrow?) I might try some kind of class with her there by me in her carseat. Or something. I also tried a bike which I had to completely WUSS out on because it was so hard.

But I am proud of myself because I finally went. Now to keep going.

I am also posting some new pictures over here.





there are two more videos to go here. myspace was linking to yukky stuff so I have to try to host them elsewhere.

Today I cleaned the garage. Ho-hum, you might say, so what? A box or two, a shovel.

Uh. NO. Maybe you missed the video tour of my house. I moved A LOT of boxes, and a refrigerator. The MOG called me She-Ra. Thank ya, thank ya verr much.

Unfortunately, I misjudged how much room we needed for the ol' new minivan. So I wil have to do a little more shuffling to accomplish our final goal: be able to close the garage WITH the van inside.

Ah, controversy gets the blog hopping. I love it. Carry on, anonymous rabble-rousers!

And it's Friday, so hit me with your suggestions for my creative writing topic... I'll pick one for next week, probably not on Monday.

In the news: Romney has suspended his campaign. This is a surprise to me. As far as what's going to happen now, who knows. It looks like McCain will take the nomination and maybe take Huck on as a VP. Still not voting for him. I wish Rush would run but he says he can't take the pay cut.

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I'm awfully boring today. I've tried to blog on a couple of topics, and it's like, zzzzzzzz.....

Uh, how about this.... assuming that Valentine's Day is a woman's holiday. (I know not everyone assumes that, but enough do) So, making that assumption, what would be a good holiday for guys? SuperBowl maybe...

I love politics, but I hate conflict. Here's the thing. I am right. And if you're not willing to concede that, insta-conflict. Joking. Mostly.

So today I will away with politics. I will talk about Valentines Day. Because I love it.
I am all about present holidays. Birthdays, Christmas, Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, etc. I do not care about materialism, consumerism or the American marketing agenda. I just like presents. Imagine my surprise, when, after years of thinking my love language was quality time, discovered that it was actually gifts. So there you go.
So Valentine's Day. It's a bit of a conflict (cursed brain). On one hand, I am such a romantic. I want chocolates and flowers and sweet talk and candlelight and horsedrawn carriages and what-not. But the other hand finds that funny and cheesy and just a little awkward. Probably I need some inner healing or something. Oh, speaking of inner healing, I start going to a new class/home group next week. I think it's kind of an inner healing thing. I might think it's wussy, considering that I've been through Issues of the Heart 3 times. But it's something, and I need to do something.

Back to V-day. Bean's birthday is the day before, and I and the MOG want to buy her all the sweet little presents in the world. No danger of being spoiled here.

When I was 6, I read a book... Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew, I don't remember- (I was bi-literate). And somewhere in the story, there was an archaeologist. Probably a couple of dead bodies and getting trapped in something as well, but I digress. I fell in love with the word archaeologist. So, the next few weeks or so, that was the plan. The teacher asked our second grade class what we wanted to be. Nurse, fireman, racecar driver, archaeologist. (I was that last one). I had to spell it for her.

Soon after that, maybe third grade, I decided I would become the first female President. I started by being the class president, every year. (Maybe no one else cared, or maybe I was the candidate of inevitability) I listened to Rush Limbaugh for 3 hours a day during the summer. It was like eating. I swallowed the political process. It was fascinating and exciting and heady. I planned to graduate early, go to law school and then run for President in 2012, my first eligible year. The years went by. I continued thinking and listening and planning and reading all through junior high and my freshman year in high school.

Somewhere in my sophomore year, I decided to 86 the law school plan. It looked boring, really, really boring. And the world of theatre was coming alive to me. I loved it. I loved being on the stage, and taking on characters and memorizing scripts and the whole thing... Also in my sophomore year, I fell in love with a crazy headbanger type that had a passionate heart for youth ministry. As we immersed ourself in youth pastoring (at 17), we became consumed with the heart of God for the young generation. We gave ourselves wholeheartedly to the pursuit of God and the love of our "kids". And all my other ambitions just didn't matter enough, anymore.

Now, in my heart there is still a burning for politics. I still love it, and I don't like where things are heading as a nation. So will I, at some point, enter the political arena? I've given it some thought. Maybe on a local level... maybe someday. On a personal level, learning and listening and voting and affecting legislation... absolutely.

We'll see what God does. I have a couple more years till 2012, anyway. Or is it 2013?

Oh, and I voted for Huckabee.

Not doing the creative writing today... I need to talk politics. Continue to submit ideas, if you want. I'll do it one day this week when God smiles on me and Tobias takes a nap.
Tomorrow is Super Tuesday, and for the first time since I was 18, I'm at a loss. I won't vote for McCain. He supports embryonic stem cell research, which is abortion. I have a couple of friends who have had "snowflakes". These are frozen embryos adopted by infertile couples. I have pictures and life stories of embryos- leftover embryos who were adopted, and carried... they are children. Beautiful, normal children. Embryos are NOT tissue, and they are not expendable. There's a lot in there, and I know for some it's controversial. The fact is, there are tons of frozen embryos in the United States. And they deserve life, just like we do. (if you want more info about embryo adoption and stem cell research, lemme know)
So McCain is OUT.
And Huck... good ol Huck is not doing great. I mean, he's third. Which, all things considered, is still in the race. But lagging enough that a vote for him might be a vote for McCain. So that leaves Romney as the second placer. And really, I don't have big problems with Romney. Except the fact he's a Mormon. That makes me a little nervous. But he's pro-life. And actually, pretty darn conservative.
So that is the quandary. Tomorrow we vote. And I don't know who I'm voting for.

In other news, the underdogs won the Super Bowl. I was actually rooting for the Patriots... I wanted them to make history. But you have to understand, I root for them by looking up from my book at intervals and seeing if "my team" is ahead. So Richy was happy that it was a happening game and in the end the Giants had a big upset and won the whole darn thing.

Anyways, tomorrow go and vote. I'll tell you who I end up voting for in the end...

So here we are at Friday... tomorrow, the MOG has to be at the house o' prayer from 6 to 8 am and then he's off till 6. I might run away to Barnes and Noble... or somewhere... Hot chocolate and books, that is the plan.

Here's a new feature, in which you kickstart me to write creatively. You can suggest a topic. For instance: write about the first memory you can recall... or some such. YOU suggest a topic to ME and then sometime during the week, probably Monday, I write about it. Capisce?

Don't be offended if I never pick your topic. It probably just means your ideas stink.

< snicker >
Actually, if it's something I've never done, i.e. "Tell us about the first time you killed a man.", or something that would be boring, "Tell us about your favorite brand of pencil." (actually, that one's not half bad, but you get the point. No pun intended), then I might not feel like creatively writing about aformentioned caveats.

So ready, set, go!