Today after a long morning of running errands, K.Z. and Xena and I were relaxing while C'sa napped.  Xena commented about the cross I was wearing and decidedly told me that it was not like the "real cross".  Taking her up on this, I wanted to hear her take on the "real cross".

She stretched out her arms while putting one foot on top of the other and said, "the real cross was shaped liked this and it was BIG!  This is how Jesus was on the real cross and they put nails in His hands and his feet!".  I asked her if she thought it hurt Jesus and with wide eyes she replied that it did.  At this, K.Z. got interested in the conversation so I dug a little deeper and asked why He would do that if it hurt so badly.

"So we would not die!” Xena shouted excitedly, "and we could go to heaven forever!”

After a little more discussion K.Z. thoughtfully interjected, "I cannot go to heaven because I have sin in my life."  On that, I pounced.

I grabbed a small piece of tissue paper that was on the floor (after all, who has time to vacuum when there are souls to win for the kingdom?) and said, "Imagine this is sin".  Then I crumpled it and tossed it away from me.  "That is what God can do with your sin and why Christ died on the cross.  The sin is gone.  Forgiven."

Xena excitedly replied, "Yeah, He can crush it!"

After a long discussion I told both of them exactly what they needed to do to live with the Savior for eternity.  I also followed it up as I always do with, "when you are ready and if you would like help with what to pray, just ask Dad or me."  Usually this is followed with the obligatory, "Okay", and life carries on.  Not today.

In a small voice K.Z. asked if we could pray right now.  Then Xena asked if she could as well.  I talked a little more to them about the commitment they were about to make and how important it was to know it, really know it, in the bottom of your heart that it was the Truth and the only way to heaven.  They both acknowledged they believed that.

Already an emotional wreck trying to hold it together (the thought of my children joining Mr. Clean and I in eternity always makes me a little weepy), Zach asked if we could get my prayer shawl and pray under it's cover.  That pretty much sent me over the edge (but I held it together).  I have a prayer shawl that I like to use simply for focus.  I believe you can pray anytime and anywhere, but when I need to be completely focused and not in my everyday world, I escape to the shawl and pray under it, blocking out everything else.  When the children discovered me doing this one day they were quite curious about it.  I simply explained that I use it when I have something really important to pray about and I need to concentrate completely.  Now my son wanted to use it for the same reason. 

The three of us gathered together under it and I led them both in prayer.  Two of my beautiful blessings prayed for forgiveness of sin and that Christ would be their personal Savior and govern over their lives, hearts and minds.  They acknowledged that the only way to salvation was through Him and that He sacrificed His life for theirs.  My heart was so full it could have exploded.  My tear ducts certainly did!

Afterward the glow on their faces said it all.  K.Z. was euphoric in a way that I have never seen before.  You could not wipe the smile away.  I told them that this was an important day and they should tell someone!  First on the list was "Daddy" and then they wanted to call good friends and godly mentors of ours from church, a couple we adore.  A gentleman who serves as a church Elder and his wife, a definite "Titus 2" kind of woman!  The kids have "adopted" them as kind of surrogate grandparents (they led a small group we were in and the kids have grown very fond of them).  I have never seen my son more proud.  Normally he can be shy on the phone but today he told our friends exactly what he did.

To top it all off, at bedtime K.Z. asked if he could pray (we have corporate prayer every night as a family and we alternate who says bedtime prayers).  He once again prayed the prayer I had helped him with earlier, except this time it was all on his own and in his own words. 

My Christmas is complete, I could not have asked for a better gift than the eternal salvation of two of my three children.  The greatest part?  They are anxious to share there new lives with C'sa and want her to "become a Christian" (in their words) too!

T'was The Night Before Christmas
(Not a Sign of Baby Jesus)

T'was the night before Christmas,
and all through the town;
Not a sign of Baby Jesus,
was anywhere to be found.

The people were all busy,
with Christmas-time chores;
Like decorating, and baking,
and shopping in stores!

No one sang "Away in a manger,
no crib for a bed";
Instead, they sang of Santa,
dressed-up in bright red.

Mama watched Martha Stewart,
Papa drank beer from a tap;
As hour upon hour,
the presents they'd wrap

When what from the TV,
did they suddenly hear?
'Cept an ad.. which told,
of a big sale at Sears.

So away to the mall,
they all flew like a flash;
Buying things on credit,
and others with cash!

And, as they made their way home,
From their trip to the mall;
Did they think about Jesus?
Oh, no... not at all.

Their lives were so busy,
with their Christmas-time things;
No time to remember,
Christ Jesus, the King.

There were presents to wrap,
and cookies to bake;
How could they stop and remember,
who died for their sake?

To pray to the Savior,
They had no time to stop;
Because they needed more time,
to "Shop til they dropped!"

On Wal-mart! On K-mart!
On Target! On Penney's!
On Hallmark! On Zales!
A quick lunch at Denny's.

From the big stores downtown,
to the stores at the mall;
They would dash away, dash away,
and visit them all!

And up on the roof,
there arose such a clatter;
As grandpa hung icicle lights,
up on his brand new step ladder.

He hung lights that would flash,
He hung lights that would twirl;
Yet, he never once prayed to Jesus...
Light of the World.

Christ's eyes... how they twinkle!
Christ's Spirit... how merry!
Christ's love... how enormous!
All our burdens... He'll carry!

So instead of being busy,
overworked, and uptight;
Let's put Christ back in Christmas,
and be blessed day and night!

I am convinced that "Murphy" lives in my house (you know, the Murphy of Murphy's Law?).  I am ususally pretty on top of all the various Christmas activities that I want to accomplish.  I get the annual letter done, pictures taken, presents purchased and mailed, tree up, etc. all in plently of time.  Well, the tree is up and the house is decorated and that is about it.

I had grandiose plans to make amazing Christmas crafts for art class, bake cookies from scratch while teaching the kids how to properly measure and mix (math and science?) ingredients and help the children memorize scripture and the words to our favorite carols (since Xena thinks every line of "Away in a Manger" is "the little Lord Jesus lay down where He lay").  The ingredients for the cookies are still at the store and every line to "Away in a Manger" is still as stated above!  Christmas craft?  Is "hmmph" spelled with two "m"s or three?

All that aside, at least I could get the pictures done.  Here is where Murphy sticks his nose in... 

Seeing that there are only 15 (gasp!) days left until the 25th I figured tomorrow better be the day we get our Christmas card picture taken, uploaded and created.  So what happens today?  K.Z. went to a birthday party at a huge play place and while running managed to give himself a slight black eye.  Tonight Xena complained that her chin hurt and when I looked, it was red and chapped.  At least the picture will really represent what the kids look like!  I am just waiting for C'sa to fall down and get the normal black bruise on her forehead.  The Addams Family portrait would be complete!

It has taken me close to 32 years (I am 32) to fully appreciate all the effort my mother put into Christmas when I was a child.  The Christmas spirit was live and thriving in our house every year without a touch of visible stress.  That's all I want to recreate and every year it seems to get farther from my grasp!  So to try and get back that Christmas vibe I always had as a kid I popped in some Nat King Cole singing Christmas songs (it always takes me right back) and stopped to think about what it all really means.  Enjoy this Natalie Cole video.  It was the closest to Nat that I could get!

I promise to only leave this video on my blog for a few days, but how could I not add it at least for bit?  This is one of those songs that defined growing up in the 80's.  I loved it then and I love it now!  It goes along the lines of "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" and "A Christmas Story", which we watch every year.  It simply must be highlighted.

Enjoy the walk down memory lane, no matter how juvenile!

K.Z. (ds-6) is going to a birthday party today.  Even better, it is a swimming party (oh, to be 6 and be that excited about putting on a bathing suit in the middle of the fall/winter).  He can't wait.  

K.Z. is a confident swimmer.  No expert at all, but he grew up swimming in my mom's pool and is not scared of the water.  Give the boy some floaties or a kick board and he would swim across the English Channel.  So I had no qualms whatsoever about sending him along to this party until he said, and I quote...

"I packed my goggles so I can't drown".

Today is little C'sa's birthday and I am simply overwhelmed with how "old" my baby has become.  My 7 month old nephew was in town for Thanksgiving and comparing "my baby" to my brother's made me realize she is not really a baby anymore.  Boy how my heart sighs...

Mr. Clean has summed up the day perfectly, so I can just direct you to his view of the event...

For the past three years that I have been living in our township I have been waiting for Mr. Clean to come home and tell me we were getting transfered to my dream state or anywhere else in the lower 48.  I have been waiting for the next leg of our adventure, ready to put up the "for sale" sign in the front yard and pack up the offspring before they got too comfortable here.

Too late!  I am comfortable here.  Talking to some friends the other day about some development that is coming to our area, I realized that I cared.  This is my home, my children's home.  We have friends here that we adore and can't imagine not seeing on a regular basis.  I have girlfriends I can envision growing older with, watching our children grow up together with, supporting each other during empty nest syndrome and those "oh so not gentle" changes that happen in life.

I know it sounds a little hokey, but it feels good to be "home".  And for that I am so very thankful!  Have a wonderful Thanksgiving Day!

Mrs. Frodo, my dear friend at Apollos Academy tagged me for this, so here we go:

Nine Weird Things About Me

Or Things About Me That Don't Come Up In Common Conversation

1. I had the honor of meeting Rita Moreno at a National Hispanic Council on Aging dinner in DC while I was in high school.

2. I am related to Scottish missionary Dr. David Livingstone and George Whitefield (and it is pronounced "White"field, not "Whit"field as most Americans believe; I promise, my mother is a Whitefield!)

3. My great uncle Mac was Ranger Hal.

4. I was a student in one of the first Communications Arts Magnet programs in the country (read: guinea pig).

5. I am allergic to whey, yet am obsessed with pizza!

6. My paternal grandfather traveled from Georgia to New York City to be a laborer on the Empire State Building and then became a DC taxi driver for over 40 years after. 

7. I have a tattoo on my ankle that I got when I was 20.  I would love another, but Mr. Clean has requested that I resist the urge (while on the outside I am a mild mannered homeschooler, on the inside I am a juke joint singer with B-52's hair!).

8. I love motorcycles.  Mr. Clean had one before we became "responsible parents".

9. I would easily become a "raw foodist" and follow Serene Allison around like a groupy, if I could still eat steak!

Mr. Clean spent this past week in Indianapolis checking in with the "mothership" (aka - Corporate Headquarters).  Before he left I stocked the pantry, the fridge and the schedule.  We had a full week of dear, dear friends and school.  Two weeks worth so we can take next week off to enjoy the Thanksgiving week without missing a beat.  I had planned to keep busy.

Yet, I was still lonely and quite alone.  After the fun outings I still came home to an empty house and the life of a single mom for the week.  Being a homeschooler means you are a parent 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  No breaks this week (except for a trip to the dentist for a replacement filling... ugh!) and no one to tag team with.  Mr. Clean is a huge help in my daily doings and is never one to refuse me when I need a sanity break.  When he is in the Commonwealth.

I have been prayed for all week by faithful and loving friends, checked in on and have had many offers for anything I may need.  In spite of all of that, my heart has been heavy and my spirits down at times and my voice way too loud in the direction of my kids.  But there is a very big light at the end of my tunnel powered by a 747 landing on a Pennsylvania runway.

What about those ladies in need who do not have the light at the end of that tunnel?  Single or widowed moms with no support or community.  Homeschoolers or not, the job of child rearing alone is a tough one.  So pray for someone you may know who is in need of a little support and find a way to offer it!

I know better than to watch television.  More so anytime Madonna will be opening her mouth.  Not because of the fake English accent or her snobby mannerism (I know, I am not being very Christ like, but I am ventiing big time...).

I decided to watch an interview since she recently adopted a child from Malawi, an African nation that I have a lot of interest in since we have been sponsoring a child there through World Vision for 10 years.  I shouldn't have bothered.

During the interview she shared that her kids are annoyed with her being on tour all the time so the reporter asked her why not stop for them?  After all she had all the money she could ever need, at which Madonna replied, that she had things to accomplish and that being a wife and mother was not all she wanted.  If you want to change things you need a platform to stand on.

So I suppose that those of us who are just a wife and mother have no role in changing the world.  Maybe if she spent more time developing the blessings she had been given already (her two children) she might see how she could change the world through them. 

I won't even start about the whole "singing while on the mirror laden crucifix" while on tour.  But I must post this quote she said in reference to why she feels it necessary...

"I am taking the teachings of Jesus, the essence of Jesus to say, look we have a problem here..."

Well said, Mrs. Ritchie.

Today I woke up ready to rule the planet.  The birds were singing and all was right with the world.  I was going to hop in the shower, get breakfast and school done, hit the treadmill, work out and then go to the grocery store.  At about 7 am all three of my little ones came into my room and climbed into bed with me which was wonderful!  What a great way to greet the day. 

I should have known my plans were going the way of the Dodo when Mr. Clean thwarted my plan to hop right into the shower.  He walked in the room, said, "good morning", grabbed a towel and headed for the bathroom.  Because the man takes the world's longest showers I snuggled back into our bed.  Then I figured I would be productive and start some laundry.  After all, I was SuperMom today and all was still right with the world.  So far...

Then came the "call".  Mr. Clean called down the stairs and asked me if C'sa had been okay for me.  ???  Well of course!  What trouble could she get in snuggled under my comforter?  The worst...  she threw up.

Still in SuperMom mode I went in and cleaned and cuddled my baby.  No problems!  I could handle this!  Not to be outdone, then Xena ran to the bathroom and threw up as well.  Both of my princesses had a mild fever and no ability whatsoever to keep food in their bellies.

Fast forward to lunch.  I still was in p.j.'s, K.Z. and I were on constant "throw up" alert for the little one (Xena can get to the bathroom in time) and no school had yet been done.  Worst of all, I was getting a headache.  This day was not quite the one I had imagined!

Yet, it redeemed itself!  Although not going as I thought, the day ended with two little girls happily eating a light dinner and keeping it down!  K.Z. and Mr. Clean were wrestling in the family room loud with laughter and joy.  After dinner the girls were singing made up songs in their beautiful voices at the top of their lungs.  All was, once again, right with the world.

I challenge you to do this just for fun...

As seen on Apollos Academy:

1. Grab the nearest book.

2. Open to page 123.

3. Find the fifth sentence.

4. Post the text of the next four sentences on your blog (or here in the comments section if you don't have a blog) along with these instructions.

5. Don't you dare dig around for that "cool" or "intellectual" book on your shelves. (I know you were thinking about it.) Just pick up whatever is closest.

Now here is my contribution:

"He and Baba kissed on the cheek and he shook my hand with both of his. "Best of luck with the writing," he said, looking me in the eye.  His pale blue eyes revealed nothing of the thoughts behind them.

For the rest of that day I fought the urge to look toward the gray van."

For those of you who have read this book you should know it instantly.  I finished it last night and, "Wow..."

A gazillion years ago when Mr. Clean and I got married we were still college students.  I wound up getting my MRS degree on our wedding day but Mr. Clean went on and continued his education (whoo hoo, go Terrapins!).

During and after his college days, Mr. Clean worked at jobs that he really loved.  First with Hechinger's, a now closed home improvement store and then for his current company.  In those days he used his brain and his hands.  Mr. Clean is quite intelligent and a computer nerd (only in secret, it would ruin his reputation...), but he loves being "hands on". 

In the early years with his current employer he was an electronic field technician.  He drove the company truck, used the company tools and installed product or fixed issues for customers.  He also made a very nice salary.  Then he was promoted to be the one who coordinates all the technicians, but he still got to get his hands dirty from time to time.  We referred to those days as "the light blue collar" days.  He got an even nicer salary.

Another promotion later we are in Pennsylvania (good-bye beloved Maryland) and he is now a regional coordinator.  Instead of the company truck it is a company car.  He no longer needs too many company tools because he rarely gets his hands dirty anymore.  His salary is bigger, but then again so is our mortgage payment (and our outlandish property taxes, but that is a rant for another day!).

At the light blue collar level he traveled a little, not too far from home and not too often.  Maybe a week here or there to the main office in Indianapolis or to put in some "face time" with some of his bigger customers.   Now he is in the Manhatten office two days a week (so that includes an overnight) and had to increase his travel to his other offices and to Indianapolis.

Mr. Clean is a homebody.  While he has traveled extensively and has no problem with it, he would much rather put in more "face time" with us.  Frankly, we miss having Daddy home every night. 

We have been extremely blessed to get the things that we have.  The Lord has blessed us with a beautiful 4 bedroom home big enough for lots of company, good cars for transportation and a healthy family.  My hubby's job is a good one and I know many women whose husbands are gone far more (not to mention those men who are on active duty currently), so complaining seems silly.  Yet, I would give it all up to be back in my former three bedroom townhouse with my light blue collar hubby in a minute! 

The ironic part is, so would Mr. Clean!  The only reason we have decided to stay put is that we love the community we live in and the cherished friends we have made here in Pennsylvania; not to mention our homeschooling allies! 

It is not too often that people desire to climb back down that ladder...

I just updated my video to a song that I adore.  I am not a huge bluegrass fan (save Alison Krauss, who I really like), but the song "Man of Constant Sorrow" from "Oh Brother Where Art Thou" is a song that simply makes me smile. 

I watched the movie with my beloved Mr. Clean and his parents and remember laughing the entire time.  We loved the movie so much we went out and bought the soundtrack and played it over and over.  I preferred the old Christian classics while Mr. Clean's all time favorite was this song. 

It amazes me how when you truly love someone, their favorite things turn into your favorite things.  Simply because you love them.

I simply could not resist!  A couple other bloggers have succumed to the temptation and so have I.  Do I dare say you will too, LOL?!

So, drumroll please, here are my celebrity look a likes.... 

I always knew I was meant for another time and destined to be a silver screen star in "Hollywoodland"!  On an aside, I accidentially first put my niece's picture into the software (we have the same name so I goofed up files) and she got three of the same matches (we do favor one another)!  Enjoy!

As a semi new homeschooler, I am starting to see the classic homeschool "hiccups" that newbies can make.  My current hiccup is overcommitment.  I can just see you seasoned homeschoolers (note that I did not say "senior" or "older" for which I would like many brownie points, LOL!) shaking your heads and smiling with the memories of when you fell into similar follies.

I committed myself to a couple things this summer that while the kids were "off" it was no problem.  The kids are no longer "off" and my number one commitment, the education of my blessed offspring (yes they are currently asleep and being perfect...) is being squeezed.  Yet I feel the act of making a commitment means that you stick with it and see it through even when you want to run and hide under the bed.  Currently I am the president of a local MOMS Club chapter and I adore the woman that I serve.  However, it is a lot of work.  I never expected it to be a cake walk, but I also never expected it to be as consuming either.  I think if it was my only comitment it would be fine, but there are others.

Then we move on to the children.  Is it an "across the board" homeschooler trait that since our young'uns are not in traditional school that they have to be involved in every sport, community and church program out there?  Don't get me wrong.  I love that K.Z. loves playing soccer and that he is excited about being a Cub Scout; as am I!  But am I allowing overcommitment to consume him as well?  Will he still have time to lay on his stomach in the grass watching ants and other various creepy crawly things if I am hurrying him into the mom-mobile all the time to whisk him away to one event or another?  What happens when my girls start into various programs?  I know that time cannot actually stand still, but if anyone knows how to make it happen in any fashion so I can sort all of this out... PLEASE TELL ME!

Okay, now I am off to see where all the local AWANAS programs are being held in the area.  Call the men in the white jackets and direct them to the crazed, freckled Indian chick who is hiding under the bed...

Would someone please tell me why it is that when my handsome Mr. Clean puts meat of any kind on a grill it comes out melt in your mouth tender, yet when I do it, it's more like shoe leather?  I can cook almost anything within the confines of my home, but outside?  Watch out!

Lest you think Mr. Clean has some love of the grill or hidden secret grill talent, I assure you he is just a mortal man.  I can put the same steak, chicken or chop (which I previously marinated or seasoned) on the grill at the exact same temperature and babysit it the entire time and then *poof* shoe leather!  Mr. Clean however, will throw a steak, chicken or chop (which I previously marinated or seasoned) on the grill, wander off to play catch or on the playset with the kids, wait until I frantically run outside and remind him there is dinner on the grill and magically...  melt in your mouth perfection!

I am convinced there is some major conspiracy at play here.  My current theory is that there is a league of rogue men (possibly a band of gypsies) who hide in the bushes ready to pounce if they see a female within 3 feet of an active grill.  Once said female steps inside to continue preparing the other courses of the meal or simply glances at her offspring to assure their safety; these band of grill saboteurs go to work.  I have yet to discover their methods, since I have yet to actually prove their existance, but the charred chops seems to be the "smoking meat"...