How Many Realtors Does It Take...

to throw an annual Christmas party? Well...judging by last night, it takes about a house full. The Hub and I were invited to a Christmas party for a fellow office in his company. His office and this office are sort of connected, being the only two for his company located in Arlington. So, generously, the manager invited him.

It was an adventure finding the place. Driving through winding streets in Arlington is no easy feat. I know Sandra Bullock is from these parts, but outside of that, I don't know how anyone finds anything...or anyone...in Arlington. We passed increasingly higher priced homes until we reached our destination. A contemporary house with very interesting architecture.

Friends, I didn't know what to expect. I can say I wasn't expecting to walk into the home and be elbow to elbow with an over 60 crowd. Like way over. Maybe not what I expected but definitely what this party was made of. Who knew? That office apparently is almost entirely senior citizens. How in the world was I going to mix myself in here?

The Hub and I pushed our way through frail elbows and stuffy suits to get to the sodas. Somehow we found ourselves out on the backporch looking an unbelievable backyard landscape. Think thousands of dollars worth of work. It was beautiful. We mingled a bit and I sat down on a couch next to a lovely lady. Deciding to stretch my self, I engaged her in conversation. Parties don't tend to be my thing. For a lot of people, it's not exactly easy to go to a dinner party where you know no one and mingle in easily. Please add to that task the fact that these people were all full of white hair and slow-paced walks. Sigh...

But my couch friend and I managed to chat about her dogs (seriously), a house she had listed a few months ago, and grocery stores. And yes, I felt like I was talking to my grandmother. The waitstaff (yes, waitstaff) announced dinner was ready so we headed to the dining room. The Hub and I grabbed a plate and headed to the back of the growing food line. The food was placed around a circle table, and seemed clear enough to me, that we were to wait for our turn in line, step up to the table and circle around. The Hub and I seemed to be standing still for 5 minutes.

Wondering why the line wasn't moving, we chuckled a bit, but kept waiting. As we inched closer to the brim of the table, a lovely lady told me were in the wrong place. Huh? She tells me she hasn't gotten around to the other side of the table yet to dip from those dishes. Okay, I tell her, the line formed here, and I gestured to her so she could see the loooonnng line. Yea, she said impatiently to me, but she hadn't gotten to that other food, she tells me with less than a friendly tone. Oh, excusseeee me. Ha to the ha. Wow. I implored her, pleassssseeee go ahead of me. Help. Your. Self. If the food was that big of a deal, she for sure could go right in front of me. That lady was so serious about getting to that food.

Eventually she and her posse cleared out and we were able to circle the table. I can't report to you that the food was wonderful. It was a potluck on the shoulders of some of the agents I guess. Salt was obviously not an option. Should I be surprised? We took our plates, found seats and began discussing how much we thought this house costs. Trying to ask realtors this question is like sudden death. The figures ranged in the one point million something. With the number after the point being hugely debatable.

The Hub and I chatted some more, had some of the most incredible bread pudding and ducked out the door. Definitely not my crowd and surely strange to try to interject myself into their world. I don't know real estate like they do. I am not in my 60s, 70s or 80s as they were. I don't live in Arlington like they do. Eye-scanning the crowd when we arrived, I knew this would be tough. Friends, it was tough. I survived it, thinking these are the things we do for our spouse. Suffering for the good of the cause. Besides the lady who nearly chopped my nose off about my place in the dinner line, it was uneventful.

pass it on

I blogged to you about the reading of the Deanna Favre (NFL player Brett Favre's wife) book about her fight against breast cancer. One of the reasons I love reading biographies and autobiographies is they are like a window. You get to peer into (or out of) your own situation and into the soul of another's. I always treat these like an amazing opportunity to understand someone better. Until I read this book, I had no idea that Mrs. Favre had breast cancer. Yet, there I was in the used book store in Manassas (saying a prayer of thanksgiving for McKay's Used Bookstore) and was glued to the biography section. I saw this one, Don't Bet Against Me, by Deanna and decided to learn her story.

I would say about 3 quarters of the way through the book, I find myself working away at my dayjob. My chosen profession involves social work, assisting families and occasionally covering walk-ins at a regional office. So, as I'm perched at the desk waiting for our next client to come in. I see a woman approach and speak with my co-worker in our other office. A few seconds later I can hear this woman is sobbing. Sobbing! :( Our office has this lovely Instant Messaging system so I checked on my co-worker to see if there was anything I could do to help. This is step #1 in making a difference: ASK. How often do we let things and situations go by and we are afraid to interject. We don't want to offend. We don't want to intrude. We just might be missing our own blessings by not asking how we might help.

The Instant Message came back that this woman was a long-time client of our program. Turns out she just had her third surgery and had both her breasts removed. She was devastated and struggling to cope. She is a single mom of 3 young children and is heartbroken at this moment in her life. Instantly my eyes fell to the book on my desk. Instantly God prompted me to give her my book. It's just a book, I rationalized to myself. Exactly, God confirmed. It's just a book. Pass it on. Step #2 in making a difference: DECIDE. I made a decision that I would see how I could appropriately offer this book to this woman in the hopes that it would encourage and bless her in her struggle. I didn't want to offend her and there were all sorts of inhibitions keeping me from leaping from my seat. But, I felt that God wanted me to give her this book. Just a small little ray of sunshine in what feels like a dark time.

I send another Instant Message and told my co-worker I had an idea. Could I please offer this book that I am reading to her? Did my co-worker think that would be okay? Perhaps it would have been a easier if the client had been meeting with me personally. I would have gracefully handed her the book. But now, I'm on the outside, and I don't want to be intrusive or make assumptions about this lady's problems. I said all that in my short little IM to my co-worker. A few minutes later she came in and I told her I wanted to give my book to this client. Still a little apprehensive, I explained myself again. "I think this will bless her. She needs some encouragement," I explained. Incredulously, she mused, "you want to actually GIVE it to her? Like to keep?" Yes. To keep.

So she took the book into the room and explained to the client that I wanted to give her this; that I overheard her situation and I thought this might help her a little. When they were finished the client came in and thanked me for the book. She looked wiped out and sad. With tears in her eyes, she thanked me and told me she would return it. "No," I said. "Read it and then keep it or pass it on to someone else who might need some encouragement too." She was surprised that I was giving her this completely. Step #3 in making a difference: DO IT. Once you ASK how you can help and DECIDE what you will do, then friends...DO IT. Making a difference in someone's life is that little small thing that you can easily talk yourself out of. Those things matter. If I gave that woman a reason to smile, if she walked away thinking that was a nice gesture, if it encouraged her knowing a complete stranger wanted her to feel better, then I have passed it on.

Bball Delight

I love that this morning I get to blog to you about my Bball Girl's tremendous win at her game on Saturday. I know you may be sitting there thinking this blog lady, she's so funny. She ALWAYS thinks her kids are sports-talented. Yes, friends! But seriously, though...

This season is especially fun because alongside the basketball games there's an added bonus in The Hub coaching the team. He just makes my blog life so easy! Saturday's game was so much fun. I am still trying to maneuver my way through videotaping and cheering. I don't want my footage to be of my embarrassing screams and cheers so it's a delicate balance that I'm still trying to master. The Hub suggested I bring the tripod next week. Have we reached that level of seriousness? Perhaps.

Bball Girl at point guard led her team. I mean, she LED her team! Showed real leadership skills, plays aggressively, scored 12 (pause for importance. T.W.E.L.V.E) of the team's 22 points. They won 22-18. Watching Bball Girl play is very exciting. She is an exciting player to watch. You can't help but get excited watching. Did I say that enough already? On my videotape footage, which you can surely check out on my facebook page or at www.youtube.com/4copelands, you can see that her coach, The Hub was all into the game too.

In the last quarter the opposing coach came over to ask if The Hub had played Bball Girl all 4 quarters of the game, against division rules. Nooo, The Hub assured her. Only three quarters. Surely she felt like that because Bball Girl was wiping the court with her team. I understand completely. Felt like you had seen that little fast, powerful player the whole time! The Hub was generous enough to share his clipboard with his lineup with that other team coach. I assure you he did that out of the kindness of his heart. No a competitive hiccup in that move at all.

This season, that top draft pick that The Hub was given and Bball Girl are turning out to make a ridiculously good pair. It's like yin and yang. One is huge-tall and the other is itty-bitty-small, but they play off each other, work together and brought The Hub mad smiles!

So far, season is 1-1. Stay tuned and check out those videos if you can.

Tim Tebow'in it...

Just for fun...
http://www.people.com/people/gallery/0,,20553140,00.html

Since my favorite football quarterback in the NFL is getting constant attention, sometimes for less than sold-out support reasons, I get to keep talking about him too. Who could not love this guy? Recently I read an article that said the thing about Tim is everyone almost wants him to mess up so he will seem "normal", and so that then the world can breathe a sigh of relief, as if to say this faith thing he boasts of isn't all he's cracking it up to be.

The thing us believers know is that it doesn't matter if he messes up. That would be sad, but that doesn't change his faith relationship or the great work he does in sharing his faith with the world. For the unbelievers when a believer makes a huge blunder it is like another check mark on the "reasons why God isn't real" type list.

But then there is Tim. Did you catch the game against the Chicago Bears? Amazing finish. I love the similarity to biblical stories. To see Tim have faith, watch him literally praying on the sidelines and see the team pull out a win in overtime when it was pretty much decided the team would lose. How awesome is it to watch his lips move and know that he isn't talking to anyone other than God? And how awesome is it that when the team wins, the first thing...FIRST THING Tim says to the interviewer after the game is "First and foremost I want to give honor to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." That, friends, is the best of the best. Being able to publicly and proudly proclaim not just your love of God, but your love of Jesus for all to hear? Great job Tim. Your mama raised you well.

I think he's single. Is he single? I have a few single Christian ladies well-deserving of such a faith-full man. And, he's saving himself for marriage. Wow. This guy is the real deal. I'm a real fan. Keep up the incredible work Tim. None of the many, many doubters and silly sportscasters that just can't seem to wrap their minds around what's happening, matter much. They will speculate and some of them criticize, but then, for all of us Christians, we face the same. Our level might be smaller and draw less public attention but the haters will always be there. It's the faith and prayers of those that support us that keep us moving forward with our eyes focused upwards.

Somebody needs to get this girl a Tim Tebow jersey for Christmas. Jeesh.

Lose Some, Win Some...

4th Grade winter basketball started off the season with a bang. Alright, not a bang. More like a small pi-chow. Bball Girl and her squad took a loss for the first game. My disclaimer here is that this is the first season for most of these girls, and they have had two practices to date. They are a bit rough around the edges, but then again, this will be a test of The Hub's coaching skills. If he can do something with this group, I might be impressed.

My little sweet 9 year old had herself way too much fun the night before at a super-duper house party. Girlfriend even won the prize for best dancer. I'm not convinced she was the best, but I know the girl has no reservations. She might have looked like she was about to break something but she was out there with it and that's what won her the prize. There is always one, at every party, that precious soul who is out there dancing their butt off...by themselves...to their own tune...and moving like they have a mission to complete. Or like they might hurt somebody. That would be Bball Girl. Strange, it brought back memories to one house party my sister had when she was in middle school and I must have been an elementary girl. I can clearly recall break dancing on the floor in front of all her friends. She was probably mortified but I established a name for myself amongst her friends. To chants of "go Rachel, go Rachel," I danced my little heart out. No shame. Goal achieved.

Nevertheless, Bball Girl's action-packed evening resulted in a pretty tired girl on the court Saturday afternoon. I believe she hit the floor more times than her feet left the ground. She took an elbow to the face, did some wrestling moves that I can't believe she thinks are part of basketball, and tried her coach's patience from the sidelines. You will be happy to know he kept his composure. Even with all that, she was the team leader. She scored 6 of the team's 11 points. Yes, 11 points. Most of the shots were wild, air balls. We've got some work to do as a team. Turnovers killed them. The Hub will be coaching these sweet girls about what to do under pressure and to stop throwing the ball any and everywhere when they are drowning. Bball Girl had some beautiful steals and took the fans by surprise. Did they not know? My girl can ball.

The biggest outcome of our first season game would have to be the discovery of the insider track. At that basketball assessment The Hub wondered why some of the coach's were going for 4th and 5th round draft picks. Saturday's game revealed why. Coaches purposely rated the girls they wanted low so they could easily get them in the draft. My goodness, the horror. What's wrong with people? What ever happened to good, old-fashioned, fair competition. From the looks of the opposing team on Saturday, we could see that this first coach, at least, stacked his team accordingly. I've decided (as if I'm somebody) the coaches don't need to be the people doing the assessments. If grown adults can't be expected to play fair, what in the world are we teaching our children. This one little small example shows why our world is so corrupt today.

I'm not going to hold these dads to the downfall of our world, but I am more than a little shocked at the deception people will go to, just to win. Amazing. My conscience would never let me be deceptive to get ahead. I'd feel so bad for those I left behind. So, our team was genuinely unprepared on Saturday. These girls haven't played together as a team prior to this game. They don't know each other's names yet. We have work to do, but what is better than a come-from-behind kind of story. Stay tuned, folks. I believe that The Hub has his work cut out for him, but that competitive edge that he eats, sleeps and breaths with won't go away quietly. This could get ugly.

The silver lining on the weekend, coming off that game, would be the sweet soul who got saved on Sunday. Brought by a teenage friend of ours, this precious girl said she has never attended church before. Wow. There are those out there that have yet to attend a church service, have yet to know the name of Jesus. Friends, there is still work to do. Sometimes, we feel like everyone knows, and they are each making a choice for themselves, to accept Him or not. But you know what, there are still those out there that don't know about Jesus. Sunday's service was proof-positive of that. This beautiful young teenage girl gave her heart to the Lord on Sunday. She accepted Christ in her heart for the first time. Amazing. Such a blessing to see the start of a wonderful change in her life. As her tears flowed, she opened her life to a new way, a new journey.

So, friends, you lose some and then you win some. That's the way of the world. That's why we keep pressing forward, knowing that in all things, God has a plan. Stay attentive, be aware, God is always working. Don't be discouraged in the "lose some" times, they are temporary and fleeting. The "win some" might be the very next day.

The "C" Word

Friends, I'm crossing a line. True football fans never outwardly support the "other" team. And you know, everyone who loves a sport, has an "other." You know, that team that you take pride in disliking. I swear sports are the only avenue for openly acceptable disdain. I never cease to be amazed at the passion of my fellow football-lovers. Faces painted, head gear on, ridiculous posters waving and usually freezing their butts off for the benefit of going shirtless to show team pride. That's love.

The opposite of that love is the power and intensity that one feels for the enemy. The "other." I've told you how I struggle with trying to choose a team. It's not been so great for me in the selection process. I can't seem to wrap my head around a whole team, but it does seem to be pretty easy to identify teams I'm not a fan of. Don't shoot me, neighbors, but the Redskins can go away now. I know I live here but seriously, I just don't understand this team, their struggles and their unwavering fan base. Some things I guess I just won't understand.

Despite my inner-oh-no's I decided to read a book written by Brett Favre's wife. Ugh. No offense to the man, but for sure he's on the "other" list. I'm not afraid to say I'm not a fan of any 'ole Vikings. And the fact that the poor man can't seem to figure out if he's tired or not just rubs me wrong. He's in, he's out, he's retired, he's not. Jeesh. Trying to keep up with his life is exhausting. And I can talk all this smack only because I consider myself a fan of the NFL. Isn't that what Monday Morning Quarterback is all about? Give your criticism and opinion of something that you yourself couldn't possibly attempt to do?

Well, Mrs. Favre has written a book, Don't Bet Against Me. Who knew the woman survived breast cancer, and her husband's troubled past? This would be the reason that I seek out biographies. I find people fascinating. Here again, a fascinating story. No one likes to talk, much less think, about cancer. That scary "c" word stays out of most of our mouthpieces, on purpose. Yet, for way too many of us, it becomes a scary surprise, forcing us to not only say the word but deal with the consequences of it.

My sister is a childhood cancer survive, God bless her. I have lots of memories of visiting hospitals, bloodwork being done, waiting, playing with other cancer-stricken children, and my sister's sickness and struggles. Thank the Lord, she survived and has remained cancer-free for many, many years. My good friend, evangelist Lois Bright is a breast cancer survivor. What a testimony to hear. The woman has chosen to be an encourager by her own faith relationship with God and this obstacle has become just one more way for her to boast of God's glory. Outside of these two fabulous women, the "c" word remains unspoken.

Reading this book I have a new understanding of this terrible disease. I appreciate Deanna's descriptive play-by-play of what was involved with her situation, from diagnosis, to doctor's visits to treatment. She keeps it way real and is very honest and truthful about what she experienced. She also is very clear about the need to be proactive, and for women to self-inspect to have early detection whenever possible.

My lady friends, get her book. Take the time to read it. Not only is it encouraging to read about how she has survived cancer, but awesome to see that she has determined to survive and succeed in a less-than-perfect marriage. Since there is no perfect marriage, someone's honesty and clarity about how they have stood firm in shaky times is a gift.

Never Too Late...

Since Soccer Chick has formally finished her fall season of soccer, we pretty much assumed she would be hanging up her cleats for a few months. I pretty much assumed the sports chair and the vocal cords would rest too. A casual email came out from her All-Star coach, mentioning that there may be some opportunities for playing in pick-up soccer games throughout the winter.

What do you know, we get an email the Saturday after Thanksgiving inviting Soccer Chick and anyone else who's interested, to play in a game. The weather was beautiful, so we were all for it. For good measure I brought along a sports chair and a book, thinking a good sit and read would be in order. Because, apparently, I had temporarily lost my mind, I dressed myself to play. Soccer Chick was perplexed, "YOU'RE playing?" Yea, sure. Why not?

I will tell you why not. Because I have not played a formal or informal game of soccer since I myself was a child. I'm thinking like age 8 might have been the very last time the whistle blew for me. Pitiful. One life-long regret admission here: I totally wish I had kept sports in my life. Totally.

So out we go to the soccer field. Five of the 6 Copelands in tow, all expecting to play. The Hub's attention got grabbed by a flag football league close by. That kept him focused there for at least the first 10 minutes of our play. I really did play. Close your mouth. Youngest, BBall Girl, Soccer Chick and I played with two other families. Some were athletic, some not so much. I will not entertain you with my flubs. Let's just say lots of missed opportunities, and it really is much easier from the sideline.

The moral of the story is I'm really glad I did it. If I could do that all the time I would be fit and in shape. If I could join an amateur's team of no-good, talentless soccer players, I would be all over it. It was great. I forced myself to be embarrassed and be comfortable with it. I forced myself to laugh at myself. That part was easy. Just join in with the other who are either shaking their heads or laughing. Once The Hub joined in, I gave him several warnings to remember this was a casual game. After several score updates, I told him no one was keeping score. He needed to let that go. Oh, The Hub, ever the competitive one. Dripping with sweat within 10 minutes of kick off. Tripping up a 6 year old boy and 9 year old girl. Nevermind that they were his own children.

Why I Love Tim Tebow...And His Faith

Caught this article online today. Sums up why I am such a huge fan of Tim Tebow. He put into words, eloquently I believe, to show just how real and important his faith is. I get the other side too. The side that doesn't understand why he is so vocal and visible with his faith. The side that wants him to quit already. I get that there are people that feel like that. But more importantly, I share Tim Tebow's faith, so I get that no matter how uncomfortable it might make someone else, that shouldn't hinder Tim's profession of how much He is in awe of God. Ever.

http://content.usatoday.com/communities/thehuddle/post/2011/11/tim-tebow-responds-to-jake-plummers-comments-on-his-faith/1?csp=hf

What Goes Around Is Coming Back Around

That age-old principal about sowing and reaping, getting what you deserve and things coming back around is one of the truest things I know. Things don't always happen quickly, but when they do it richly blesses my short-term memory. Anything longer than short-term I tend to forget about it in the first place.

I blogged to you about The Hub scooping up the player in the mini-NBA aka 4th grade basketball draft that was assessed with the lowest ranking score. Amidst other coaches debating who would have to take this girl, The Hub delightfully raised his hand and volunteered, cheerfully I might add, to count her on his team. Now, I must tell you The Hub's rendition of this for us, was how noble he was being, how ridiculous it was that this was even an issue, and hey, they are just there to learn the game and have fun, right? Who cares if they win? I promise you that was Mr. Uber-competitive's attitude. I know you don't believe it. We didn't either. I think he had mentally prepared himself for something less than a winning season, but he would make sure it would be fun for the girls. A re-building season, he reasoned.

Yesterday, The Hub gets a phone call from the coordinator. Turns out, that the top draft pick of the 4th grade basketball registrants can't practice on Monday, but only on Friday. The Hub's practice day. How about that for a change in things? The top draft pick has now been added to The Hub's-ahem-"rebuilding season." As The Hub relayed this to Soccer Chick and me, I could see the light in his little eyeballs. I believe he was glowing, actually. The smile creeped up in the corners of his mouth, and try as he might, he could not keep a straight face while telling us of this interesting change in things. "We're about to be killing it out there!" Um. I guess we are no longer rebuilding? Now we are tearing things down!

The Hub's natural competitive nature has resurrected. And here I thought it would be a calm season. The Hub would argue with my presentation of the facts. Insisting instead, that his focus remains the same. But Soccer Chick and I both saw that sparkle and determination in The Hub as he talked. He can play noble-guy all he wants, but for sure, what goes around comes around. His gift was the top draft pick in exchange for his eager willingness to take the bottom pick of the draft. Life really does work that way.

In another sport world, I think Soccer Chick is hoping that principle comes into play for her. This weekend was the All-Star Tournament. Soccer Chick's regular season team found 4 picks to play on All-Stars. Going into practice this week, she was apprehensive about how this team would gel together, and really felt like she and her girls wouldn't get to know these girls within one week's time. How in the world would they play well if they don't even know each other's names? Good thing friendship is so much easier for kids than it seems to be for adults. If it were me, I would still be wondering what those girls' names are. But Soccer Chick and her teammates not only gelled with these girls, they actually played an incredible tournament.

Four short games on Saturday, beginning at game 1: 8am kickoff. Yes, you read that right. 8am. As in, I forgot to even put shoes on and walked onto the soccer field with my cozy slippers on. That kind of 8am. These tournament games are quick, 25 minutes each. The whistle at half-time does not mean a break and coaching huddle for the kids. It means, switch sides, and let's see if you can flip-flop and know your left from right as you do the switch. I swear I think there was someone playing left forward that switched to right forward in that swap. Regardless of positions, the girls won game 1: 2-0, won game 2: 1-0 and won game 3: 1-0. Seriously. They played very well.

Shortly after wrapping up game 1 I advised Soccer Chick to inform her All-Stars coach that she is left-handed and he was misusing her at right forward. Game 2 and Game 3 there was full understanding of her power forward moves at left forward. Game 3 ended in a tie 0-0. Teams are ranked by number of goals made as they progress to Sunday's games towards the championship game. First game on Sunday morning: 10am. Gulp. Had to break the news to Soccer Chick, she would have to miss the game. One of the things that is a house rule: church comes first. We want to make sure we give them the right message. There will be lots of other opportunities for _______, we let them fill in the blank when needed. But any opportunity you have to worship God, should and will take priority. So, disappointed as she was, Soccer Chick swallowed this news like a big girl. We don't expect them to like it or even agree with it, but the rule remains the same. What is that they say? Stand for something, or fall for anything.

If her team won the first Sunday morning game they advanced to the next game at 1:45. I don't think Soccer Chick has ever rushed me out of church so quickly in all her life. She couldn't wait to get home and read the email to see if they won. We rent a school for church services. That means we have to set up the cafeteria for lunch the next school day. Packing up isn't as simple as walking your stuff to the car after services. There is actual work involved. Soccer Chick found herself being more helpful than ever in packing up and setting up. Amazing what motivates us.

We get home and find out the team won, and will advance to the next game. Super-speed swallowing of food and off to the game we go. I don't think I blinked or breathed in that in between half of a minute to be home before we had to leave for the game. In this game, the girls tied 0-0. Best play of the game would have to be when Soccer Chick was running so fast and with such force, trying to save the ball from going out of bounds, she plowed into the side of a trashcan on the side of the field. Great entertainment for us spectators. Not so much for her.

She is an awesome player to watch. She is aggressive, speedy, powerful and makes watching soccer very exciting. The team ended the game in a 0-0 tie. Gulp. Big gulp. That means at this semi-final game they will have to do a shoot-out. It's just a part of soccer, but not these girls' favorite thing to do. Unfortunately they lost in the shoot-out and the other team celebrated wildly. In our defense we had one goal that should have counted during this game, says me, the mom... As the ball was in motion, the ref calls halftime. If it's in motion shouldn't the goal count? I say yes, duh. Nonetheless, the girls lost and took that loss hard. Soccer Chick shed some tears. And you know, pre-game I was commenting to some other parents about how the girls get all worked up over this quick weekend tournament, crying when they lose, and how silly that is. But there my girl was, visibly upset about the loss. And from watching her play, it is understood why. It is easy to see that when you play that hard, and with that much determination and focus, it's tough when you lose. In anything, when you invest your best, you want the best results and it's hard to walk away without a victory.

But again, what goes around comes around, so Soccer Chick has lots to look forward to. She's a great player and has a lot of natural talent. There will be many more games to play and lots of opportunities for wins. As long as she, and we, keep sowing good things, we will be sure to reap the same. All in God's time...

Yes, It Is All That...Apparently

I find it pretty funny to see how this whole 4th grade basketball, NBA-Wanna-Be season is panning out. From the coach's perspective, or, coach's wife's perspective, I could have pre-guessed that it was going to be intense. I blogged to you about the assessment, rating the players in free shot attempts, dribbling, shooting and a 10 minute scrimmage.

The results are in. The good news is Bball Girl was pretty high up in the ranking. The Hub ventured out to the draft meeting last night and friends, I am not surprised at how the evening panned out. Predictably, these fellas (and two high school girls who are coaching - you go girls!) gathered at the coordinator's house to do an actual, serious as can be, draft on 4th grade girls. Since The Hub's daughter ranked pretty high he got the 4th round draft pick.

My disclaimer here needs to be that I do not follow the actual NBA. Since it is disintegrating before our eyes, I suppose my ignorance is not going to matter. As with all sports, I've become smarter and more educated as my children have explored them. Long, long ago I gave up on youth sports myself, much to my life-long disappointment. Since I do not know a whole lot about what I'm talking about regarding the draft system in athletics, forgive me if I am not making complete sense.

What is crystal clear is the competitiveness of the coachs. Although these are grown men, and the players are 4th grade girls, there was a legitimate draft with legitimate negotiations for players. The Hub gave the full report when he got home last night, even a bit surprised at how serious these guys take this process. The Hub was flexible on which girls he got. He didn't attend the assessment so looking at the results on paper was challenging. He tried to get one teammate of Bball Girl's from last season. Their nicknames together should be "tall" and "short," and they make a dynamic team when they are on the court together. Unfortunately, because of scheduling conflicts The Hub couldn't snag her. He did get a pair of twins. Two pairs, actually. One pair is good friends with Bball Girl and this ensures the season is going to be entertaining, to say the least.

The Hub also took the one lone child who ranked at the bottom of the assessment. He was happy to take her, with lots of cheerful talk about the girls having fun and learning skills, and some of that "who cares if we win or not" stuff. Friends, I have no idea what he is talking about. I think he has thrown this season away. I think he has temporarily lost his mind. Or maybe his competitive edge? Not sure what's going on with him. He must be getting sick. I am going to try to shake some sense into him. C'mon, guys. This is 4th grade basketball we are talking about here. Very important stuff. We can't throw it all away, all in the name of having fun. Jeesh, what is he thinking...

NBA (Mini) Season Is On...

I don't know about the big guys. Seems like a bunch of overgrowns acting like hardly grown, to me... but I do know about the little girls. Bball Girl's winter basketball season is in full effect. Yesterday evening found me rushing home from work, swooping into the house like the kids' worst nightmare, rushing kids everywhere, hustling, shuffling and finally getting BBall Girl in the car to zoom to the mall to get basketball shoes for her assessment one small hour after the end of my work day.

Tell me why I didn't take care of this over the weekend? Or, any day prior to last night when the shoes were needed? Well, I can't answer that question myself, so it was a mad dash to get things done. Swooped (or maybe flew) into the mall, hit up Foot Locker and had already pre-determined that I would not be held up by Bball's shoe opinions. Knowing her like I do I prepped her with a clear "we don't have time to be selective." Why is it that my problem of not being proactive becomes her problem? I don't know, why is the sky blue? Why does this always seem to be the way of things. Mad-dash mom ran up in that store and tried to quickly get her to settle on some shoes. "Any shoes will be fine" is what wound up coming out of my mouth. But of course, because I am who I am, any shoes will not be fine. They can't be ugly. Duh. So I gave her a few options and of course she wanted to go outside of those options and go for some atrocious looking things. Good thing for me time was not on our side. Things moved quicker than she would have liked. We settled on some great Air Force Ones. White. She didn't want the white. They will get dirty to fast, she tells me. Doesn't matter, I tell her. Just play ball in them.

As a shoe connoisseur myself, I must tell you they look good on her. We sped (literally) over to the school for the assessment only to find out that nothing was on time. Should have known. Her time slot to show up was 6:30, but literally it was a free-for-all in terms of coming at whatever time you felt like coming. She signed in and got number 23 stuck on her back as her identifier for the coaches. You do know there is a draft for the players, right? Yes, they are 4th graders. I think the #23 was a sign. I'm conjuring up Micheal Jordan in all his glory.

Bball Girl was at least one foot smaller than every single other girl out there. But size indicates nothing, especially if you have speed on your side. The assessment consists of dribbling down the full court with your left hand and then back down with your right hand, making one shot in the process. This is followed by 3 foul shot attempts and finally a 10 minute scrimmage of 6 on 6. Poor Bball Girl was limited by an over-sized penny that was taking up way too much of her time to adjust and keep from falling off her completely and landing around her ankles. Despite that, her speed shined through. She had a few steals and worked brilliantly with a friend, and former teammate from last year, to take a pass, dribble down and shoot for the 2 point bucket. Considering it's been a year since she last played, she was looking like she is ready to have a great season.

Meanwhile, the dad/coaches - sit on the side in sports chairs with their clipboards in hand, taking notes about the players. There is a draft, friends. The dads/coaches will be meeting at the coordinator's house to complete their draft. That I would like to be a fly on the wall for. Good thing The Hub is coaching. You read that right (I wonder if he is personally trying to keep my blog in business). His coaching means my girl is not a free agent. Now, if he can just do his best finagling to get us a great team we'll be in business. I promise you, Bball Girl is more excited about the season than I am. Okay, maybe not.

Shhhhh...

As a working mom with a full time job, four children, a husband, kids' sports teams and a Pastor's Wife to a local community church, this sister-girl is busy. Normally, all is handled well, with a smile and a wink, things are great. Every now and then there is a spirit of irritation that creeps up and says, "listen, friend. These people need to leave you alone." Now you know that is not a pretty sight.

Today was that day. Do you ever just want to have some peace and quiet? All moms out there know what I mean. I made the big mistake of watching a few minutes of "19 And Counting" with Soccer Chick. You know that show about the Duggar family and their 19 kids. Well, she's pregnant so they will have to legally change the name...again...this time to "20 Kids And Counting." Those people are something else. Especially when they get in front of the TV screen talking about how they never raise their voice and don't yell. Are you kidding me? All those kids? I can't imagine trying to get one thing accomplished and you have 15 or so more crawling up your thigh. My gosh, sounds exhausting just thinking about it. Maybe I don't handle pressure too well. But there Michelle Duggar stood, with her soft, lovely voice, essentially stating she is superwoman in a pretty package and a calm voice. Soccer Chick looked over at me, "Mom. You should take notes." Wow, I couldn't change the channel fast enough. These kids, what do they know...

Today was my day of total irritation. Happens, oh, every month or so... I just wanted to hear some quiet. Didn't feel like chatting, didn't feel like answering questions. Really didn't feel like thinking, if that were possible. Do you know that because God knows so much more than we can possibly imagine, He gives us exactly what we need and often what we deserve. Youngest is a chatter-box at the competitive level. My mother used to say something of similarity in describing me. I think she's mistaken. I swear I couldn't have been this bad. Youngest has a mouth that never runs out of batteries. It's always moving, while eating, playing, taking a bath, sometimes even while sleeping.

All those things we hear like, "you are your mother's child," and "history repeats itself," and of course, "this is exactly how you used to be when you were young," are all true. So painfully true. So although I might need Youngest to be quiet, "be quiet" to him is the same as saying "whisper." There is no "off" button. So on my special day like today when I just need some peace and quiet, there is no option. I enjoy the luxurious drive to work for this very reason. The moment those kids get out of the car for school a smile creeps upon my face. Ahhh, finally. A second of quiet. It only lasts a few moments, so with all good things, I enjoy it while it lasts. This is what brings the balance. Enjoy the noise and the chaos, but enjoy the peace when it arrives too.

Hidden Treasure...

Friends, this week a co-worker casually mentioned that I should take my pre-teen daughter to that store Plato's Closet. Have you been here? My gosh, where has it been?!? Apparently, as normal, I am the one out of the loop. I checked out their website here, and discovered they are literally in my backyard.

I gave them a ring, and discovered this is a place I have driven by many times. Who knew? Certainly not I. I must confess as I have glanced at it in the past I have always thought this was a rinky-dinky clothing store that will overcharge me for crappy clothing. But oh no. This little treasure buys back teen clothing - only what's hot, friends - and sells it at an unbelievable discount. By "hot" I mean the stuff they want: Abercrombie & Fitch, Old Navy, American Eagle, H&M, Aeropostale, and on and on... Well you know today my Soccer Chick "needed" a winter jacket. Just kidding, this wasn't an "if" shopping trip. This was legit. She needs a jacket. So we hopped in the car and headed over. Less than 2 miles from my house. Wow.

I still stand by my statement you can't tell from the outside what type of clothes are inside. And from the name there is no giveaway revealing that you will never go to the mall and pay retail again if you step inside. But inside. Oh, friends...inside. Unbelievable. I almost started salivating at the sight. Shoes, purses, earrings, and so many clothes. My girl got herself a NorthFace Jacket AND a Baby Phat Jacket...for $50 bucks. Unheard of.

I asked the wonderful saleslady how long this lovely place has been here. Two years. And I have never visited. Are you kidding me? Friends, never take your teenager to a name brand mall store again without visiting Plato's Closet first! That's a command. I couldn't believe the prices and the quality of the clothing, and like I said, it's everything she wants to wear anyway. I am still in shock and that mini-trip was hours ago. I did tell my little girlfriend, "don't get in the store and get to acting crazy, wanting to buy up everything." Had to put that disclaimer out there. It's my one-liner that I give her before every shopping trip. She can out-shop anyone, at any time. Friends, it wasn't her that needed to be worried about. I did walk out with only those two jackets, but you know I was eyeing some boots and a purse or two. I won't get started on the accessories. The workers WILL be getting to know us on a first-name basis. I'll race you there...

Priceless Joy...

I wish for all of us that we could bottle up the joy that Youngest has. Well, truthfully I wish I could bottle all of my children's athleticism, energy, creativity, good-looks, and you know, so on and so on... If I could package THAT stuff and sell it, I would be a rich woman. Aside from all Youngest's other endearing characteristics I must tell you the boy has pure, unbridled joy. Don't we pray that there are certain innocent things our children will never lose? This would be on top of that prayer list.

Little dude's birthday was yesterday. Six years old. God is so amazing, He crafted together and incredible evening. I couldn't have pieced it together any better myself. Our church small group meets on Wednesday evenings. We purchased a cake to have for dessert in celebration of his big day. About two hours before showtime, I receive a text from one family: whole house is sick, can't make it to bible study. Cool, I think. Hope they feel better. I proceed with making preparations for our group's dinner. Yes, my friends, we serve dinner every Wednesday. 'Cause we roll like that. I put the lasagnas in the oven and return to the project, errr - JOY of helping Bball Girl with her homework. By the way, whoever said fractions were do-able is a big, fat liar. This is our third round of helping children with fraction homework and I swear The Hub and I haven't mastered them yet.

Shortly thereafter, I receive another text. Another family has a conflict; won't be able to make bible study. Wow... that's two families down. We're a small clan on Wednesday nights so that leaves one family remaining that we are sure will come. There are always those infrequent folks who show up, but these three families for sure are always in attendance. I relay to The Hub how things are panning out and he decides to give the third family a call. Turns out they can't make it either. No lie. All three of our regular families are MIA. The Hub and I chuckled, God is giving us a night off. And it just so happens to be Youngest's birthday.

We proceed with enjoying that bible study dinner with just the Copelands in attendance. We celebrate with Youngest's cake and some ice cream and surprise him with an announcement of a trip to Five Below. Do you know Five Below? Shoot, it's a dollar store on steroids. It's a kid's fantasy land. And the store is just small enough that you really can feel alright with letting them run the aisles like they have no sense. I don't think the store clerks are 100% thrilled with our visits, but hey we spend plenty of $5s there so I don't want to hear any grumbling.

I would love to tell you this was a pre-planned birthday surprise. Truth is, us folks are busy. Can I say that as "bizzz eeeee?" This old gal had no time to get the fella anything for his birthday. No worries, I thought to myself. His birthday party is Saturday. We are braving Chuck E. Cheese for this child. He ought to be getting us a present. So here we have this free evening presented to us as a beautifully gift-wrapped present from God. To Five Below we go...

For good measure, Bball Girl and Soccer Chick were shopping too. Youngest was worse than a kid in a candy shop. He loves that store! He got a basket and he roamed the aisles, almost salivating at the mouth over all his choices. What did his mom do? Well, Five Below has pull for not just the kiddos, you know. I roamed the aisles too. You ever shop like that? You know you are in that store for one reason, and one reason only, but you also know, there might be something in that store that catches your eye and you might be buying it. My lovely little eyes fell upon Cow Tales. These wonderful little candies are disgustingly good.

You know when I saw them there was only about 3 flat seconds before they landed in Youngest's shopping basket. I know, I know. A moment of pure weakness. Who needs a stick of white sugar, covered in God knows what and tastes fantastic? Apparently I did. Apparently, in my moment of fleshly operation I needed 4. In my defense, this was my ONLY purchase for my self. Not a very good defense, I know... I think what makes it worse is my discovery upon returning home. I reach in the bag, prepared to enjoy some of my greedy gain, and lo and behold they are the chocolate version. Disgusting. Can I say that as "diss - gust - ting!" As much as I like the ones wrapped in the white wrapper above, I can't stand the chocolate ones. I could do nothing but laugh at my own foolishness. I just had to have them and turns out I didn't even take the time to get the right ones. That's how you know I didn't need them.

The three Youngest Copelands finished their shopping and Youngest, in all his happiness, wound up with a Nerf gun that shoots 6 foam bullets wherever his little heart desires and a few other goodies. The joy on his face from these 5 items he was allowed to purchase was priceless. He could barely contain his excitement until he got home. You know you have to use your ammunition correctly, right moms and dads? "No toys until your bath is done!" Zoom! Flash! Quicker than lightning he was in that bath and ready to go. As If we didn't give him enough play time, you better believe he was the first person up and out of bed today. How do I know? Easy, I'm in the bathroom and hear this light knock on the door. As I stand in my underwear and bra, thinking I'm relatively safe, I open the door and turn back around. No sooner than I return to my preparations, I hear a click and I am shot...literally... in the butt with a Nerf Gun foam bullet. "SCORE!" yells Youngest. The boy died laughing. I thought I was going to have to pick him up from off the floor he was laughing so badly. I'd say he likes his purchases.

We did hit one bump in the road with our progress this morning. At one point, after I removed the newly purchased toys from Youngest's grasp in order to encourage him to get moving on his dressing, I found him sitting on his bed daydreaming, looking as if he was physically unable to move. "What are you doing, Youngest?" I ask him. " Thinking of what I will do when I get those toys back." Hey, so long as I don't take any more bullets in the butt, I think we are good. Before we left the house, he gives me the sweetest old hug you ever wanted to see. "Mom, I love you sooooo much." Gullible old me fell for that, quicker than you can say "huh?" As soon as that little treasure-of-a-boy pulled away from the hug, he mumbled, "now maybe I can get my stuff back..." Hey, I can't be mad at the boy for knowing how to work things.

From The Outside Looking In...

I blogged to you yesterday about going to some sort of Halloween Alternative event type thing instead of trick or treating last night. That's what we did, folks. We went to a church up the street from us to enjoy their festivities. Youngest got this adorable Cheetah face. Does it say anything about him that his favorite animal is also the fastest animal? You would have thought from the massive row of signs advertising their event, that this would have been a bit of a big deal. There was live music (2 singers and a guitar player), about 5 tables of simple carnival games and food. I'd rate the food as a winner. Free hot dogs, popcorn, drinks, cotton candy and sno-cones. It was freezing so I must admit I didn't sample the sno-cones. You can fill in the blanks.


Soccer Chick was less than thrilled as she contemplated sporting a pout across her face. She would have much rather been trick-or-treating. When she was really young we were still participators of that, but of course she can't remember. All she knows is her friends get to do it and she doesn't. Sometimes in life, as parents, we make these decisions that make no sense to our kids. Those also tend to be things that are hard to explain clearly in a way they can understand. In a quiet moment she fell into me for a hug and I said, "hey girl. There are those things in life that we don't get choices about. Our parents are going to decide for us. But we do get to choose our attitude." Totally channeling my mother... As our sweet moment ended, she wiped some tears from her sad little eyes and I could see a glimmer of hope. Shortly after, she was having a good time eating the food and chuckling at some of the costumes. I must say that I appreciate her willingness to cope with tough situations. I seem to remember a certain other girl, who back in her day, knew how to sulk like it was nobody's business. Talk about a major brat. Bball Girl and Youngest, on the other hand, are both still of the precious age where they didn't really care. They may have liked to have gone trick or treating and Youngest sure was running through the house talking about "Happy Halloween" but still, they were very excited to go to the Trunk Or Treat.

What we found was the event was not very well attended. The kids enjoyed the moon bounce and the table games but overall it just seemed like there weren't that many people there and once we ate and did the games the kids were bored. How many times can a kid visit the duck pond game? So what's a non-trick-or-treating family to do? We hopped in the car and headed to another one, of course! A church that sits behind my mother-in-law's house also hosts this annual event. If memory serves me correctly, I do believe we visited both these spots last year as well. This year we pulled my self-imposed home-bound mother in law with us. She did the full-on pout with a stuck out bottom lip. She didn't have any interest in leaving her warm house and trotting oh, 50 feet into her own backyard. This same woman got herself a plastic bag and visited each one of those trunks to collect candy for herself. Just as we predicted, she complained about being pulled out of her house but by the time she returned she couldn't stop raving about how much fun she had. Aren't we just like that, ya'll? We decide in advance what we will like and not like and then come to find that we are usually completely wrong. Speaks volumes about how pre-judge, doesn't it?

What I really have to confess is how each year when we attend these I always feel like we are getting dirty looks from the hosts. Especially when we do the trunk or treat part and you walk up to a car trunk with your kids in tow. Mind you, my kids are not in costumes, and people give these funny looks. I know they are thinking where are their costumes? Occasionally we have even hear people comment about them lacking costumes. I have to pause and think to myself, this is a church providing a Halloween alternative. Why would people look funny at us if we don't dress up? Don't they know the purpose of providing a Halloween alternative? There is also that inside part of me that wants to say, hey buddy! I'm a Christian. I'm not one of THEM. You know...the "thems." The non-Christians that churches are trying to reach through these events. But I don't say any of that, and they don't know any of that, so I smile and nod and slowly move on to the next trunk.

I think these events have become more of a "provide a safe place for trick or treating" rather than a "we don't participate in trick or treating" kind of event. There is a difference. Judging from the costumes of the workers, the bloody faces, scary masks, vampire teeth and fakes knives, I would say the reason to not celebrate Halloween has been lost in translation. Last night there was even a trunk/costume judging contest and the winner was Count Trunk-ula, coming complete with a full vampire costume, fog, a coffin next to the trunk and a lovely gentleman with bloody teeth. Nice. Personally, I would think the guy in the all black with the Scream mask and fake machete in his hand took the cake.

What's A Jesus Gal To Do...

This time of year there is a lot of debate in the Christian community about what a Christian should do, and not do, about Halloween. Way back when, in our pre-Jesus days, we celebrated Halloween. At that time in history we only had Oldest in our home and he was a young guy. I do seem to remember a certain suave Batman costume w/ a super-duper mask adorning his precious little face. I even have a picture of my sweet Soccer Chick as a little infant baby dressed in an adorable Pumpkin costume, alongside her brother who's face was covered in a scary mask. Nice going, Oldest. Good thing she wasn't old enough to know what she was looking at.

Hold on to your seats, my Christian friends, my kids didn't die from participation disease. They survived, without trauma or any lasting negative effects. But their parents became Christians, and that friends, is what changed things. As we grew, our perspective changed. Our senses were widened. It's kind of liking having a stopped up nose, and taking that powerful decongestant. Taking that first breathe to fill your lungs is liberating. Many of the steps on our Christian journey have been exactly like that.

Over our years as a family of faith we have grown to understand the origination of Halloween. And with that new sense of things, we made the family decision that we wouldn't celebrate this holiday the way the world tends to. Before we planted a community church we served as youth leaders at another church. Each year we planned a "Harvest Fest." Many things were familiar: face-painting, bobbing for apples, contests and games. Our rule was that a child can come in costume so long as it isn't anything that wouldn't be pleasing to God. What do you get out of that? Lots of cartoon characters, some Moses and a few angels.

Our community church rents space for services. That leaves us with nowhere to have our own Halloween alternative type thing so over the years we've resorted to finding other local churches sponsoring their own. Our own house rule has been the no costume-buying or dressing-up-in, but this year is also the first year in recent years that the kids have asked for costumes. Since their interest level is up this year, it has me thinking through what is okay, and not okay. The honest answer is each Christian home needs to do what is comfortable for them. Like I said, my kids didn't die from participation when they were little. They wouldn't die if I let them do the typical Trick or Treating now.

For our family, the bigger message IS the bigger message. Understanding the evil roots of this pagan holiday means that we as Christians have to make a decisive stand. You know what they say: stand for something or fall for anything. Our kids are welcome to dress in a costume if they like. So long as it isn't anything scary or evil looking. Nothing that they would be afraid to be facing Jesus in. Soccer Chick put together a nerd costume for her friend's party. Funniest part wasn't the outfit but how she felt it was such a HUGE stretch for her to be such a thing!

What we won't do is the door-to-door trick or treating. Did you know a lot of churches do Trunk or Treats? Congregants line their cars up w/ buckets of candy in their trunks. Lots of kids come in costumes to those. Most of them are appropriate; sometimes you see the bloody faces and scary masks and wonder if their parents knew where they were sending them and why. The more important thing for our family is to send the right message. Just because everyone else does something doesn't mean we have to do it. We don't have to be the odd people either. What we have to do is think through our activities. Does it make sense to do this? What does God think of this? The purpose of the Halloween alternative is to provide an evening of fun without "celebrating" the occasion.

Truth is, all of us are in different places in our spiritual walk with God. Those of us who are Christians against this holiday, let's not be so hard on those folks who celebrate it. A Christian dressed in a costume shouldn't cause us to question his or her salvation. For those of us who can't imagine why Christians are being so silly about something so harmless, let's understand that for a Christian, what God thinks of them and their behavior is very important. Respect for differences is the main idea. Have a good time. Find something fun to do. But most of all, make a wise decision about what you are doing. Be safe, friends! And if you're local to the Western part of Fairfax, we'll be here: http://www.epiphany-herndon.org/news

Surprise, Surprise...The Past Is Before Your Eyes

Imagine my surprise when I logged onto to Facebook this weekend and found a new friend request waiting my approval. My surprise wasn't the actual request, I do gain new friends from time to time. My utter shock was who it was from.

You know how Facebook has that section off to the right where people you might possibly know and want to connect with show up? A few weeks back I saw someone from my past. A girl I went to high school with, thankfully for a short period of time. Let me just give you my sob story straight up. I pretty much hated high school. I was picked on a lot, had a small circle of friends and had my self-esteem beaten to a pulp. One of the sad, pitiful things that would happen is I would change my walk-through-the-school route to avoid confrontations with some of these girls. In my 14 year old mind, they were out to get me. As an adult, I can't imagine trying to compensate now the way I did then, should I face such ugliness. But at the time, I tried everything I could to avoid these girls. It never seemed to work. They were everywhere. Like insects that could detect when I was coming. They'd sniff me out and next thing you know they would be hot on my heels taunting me with dumb words and provoking comments.

I could say I'm a lover, not a fighter. I don't know how much of the "lover" part is true, but the "not a fighter" is definitely accurate. So when this one particular girl, who seemed to have made it her life's quest to make my life miserable, caught up with me one day, I was fuming inside as she followed me down the halls. Problem was I didn't really have a course of action to get her to leave me alone. Do you know that more than half of the problem children face when they are bullied is their own bruised self-confidence? I can speak from personal testimony. If I felt more confident and self-assured, and carried myself that way, there is no way that I would have come across as easy to push around and dying to be tortured. But, as it was, that apparently was the label smacked across my forehead, "bother me...PLEASE." You would think, as much as girls picked on me, that I was begging for it. Well, this one day as this girl miraculously shows up behind me, saying God knows what in my ear, I recall having a moment of insanity and turning around and throwing my textbooks at her. Did I even hit her with them? Gosh, who knows. I probably missed altogether.

I already told you I was not an experienced fighter. And boy did she know that too. No sooner than I made my first move, she got the green light she was looking for. Friends, don't laugh. You should know I am laughing as I write this. Next thing I know I am on the ground with the bottom of a white Reebok Classic shoe coming towards my face. I hope I had enough sense to try to block that. You know fights happen fast, so as quickly as it started, it was stopped. I remember a teacher or two breaking it up and ushering us down the hall. Now you know for a kid there is a twisted sense of pride when you have been in a fist fight. Almost like, hey I am here, hear me roar! Well, there was no roaring going on with this bout. In fact, if I even wanted to feel a pinch of pride for at least doing something, there was a teacher who ruined it for me. As we arrived in the office he told the administrator about the fight, stating something to the affect of hardly being able to call it a fight; I took some pretty bad licks. What must that scene have looked like for a bystander. I am shaking my head just thinking about it. Clearly, I never forgot the situation, or the interpretation by the teacher.

Needless to say, we both got suspended. Mine brought no pride and plenty of humiliation. If you can't even walk away from a fight feeling like you had a fight rather than a beat-down, there ain't nothing to sing about. Friends, I didn't grow up having a relationship with God. Didn't know Jesus, and sure didn't know anything about prayer. Yet, in the middle of that school year, when this girl and her family up and moved to New York I felt like shouting in the hallway! Hallelujah, there is a God! I remember thinking thank you God for removing this girl from my life.

Imagine my thoughts when I saw this same girl's face over there on the left side of my facebook as someone I might now want to connect with. I might even have said "yeah right" directly to my computer screen. And then imagine my surprise when I see the girl has friend requested me. Is she crazy? She must be crazy. As I told The Hub of this turn of events, BBall Girl pipes up "maybe she wants to say sorry." People, you know you are not over something if a little poke about it evokes some drawn-back, tight lips and a snarl of an answer, "NO. She. Does. Not." Alright, so I'm hardly over it. She made my life miserable. What joy and satisfaction she got from persecuting me, I do not know. What would make a 9th grader act so immature, I couldn't guess. Did she know what damage she was doing to a young girl? Likely not. She was not alone. She wasn't my only bully. And there are millions more like her today. I wish I thought even one of my kids was on either side of this situation. I would be all over it like white on rice.

You want to know if I accepted the friend request. Up until this very moment I have not responded. As a Christian I feel that denying it says something about me that I don't want to say. As a human being, I don't want to be friends with this person. Besides, I knew her for a few months between September and whenever the Lord plucked her out of CHS that year. We were hardly acquaintances, much less friends. So, what to do, what to do. I'm leaving this one as a cliffhanger. As if I needed the prompting from God, He spoke directly to me yesterday in church. That sweet ole' pastor preached a message entitled "Pressing Past Your Pain." Talked up one wall and down another about how we have to get healing from those past troubles, so we can move on in victory with Jesus. Ahem. Alright, alright, I can take a hint.

Secret "Rights"...

Listen, if you have a strong-willed person in your family you know that certain adjustments are made to accommodate. There are the unspoken rules, where, according to that person, they are always right, and everyone else is probably always going to be wrong. Let me tell you, The Hub is a guy like that. He is driven, successful, focused and smart. He is also the one in the house that gets the "always right" award. Or maybe it's the "I always think I am right" award. So, the rest of us compensate for that by having our own unspoken rule. Basically, we have agreed without formally agreeing, that he is never to be right. That is our secret "right."

Recently, our household has been on a re-focused, re-energized kick to be more efficient with things. Money, naturally, but also with our resources, with our time and energy as well. God has graced us with so much. What good are we doing if we aren't using them in a manner that is pleasing to Him? Part of this new efficiency journey resulted in a minor spat between The Hub and me as he announced no one in the house would be going to the grocery store and buying anything without a list from now on. A what!?! He must be kidding, I thought. I work off lists at my job, I keep up with three separate calendars (I mean, duh. How else does a mom do it all?), I manage the finances and so on. I ain't afraid of no list. But when The Hub said those words, all I heard was "I am right, and you will have to admit it."

Since the family and I have this rule that we can't ever willingly acknowledge The Hub as being right, I wasn't about to go down easy with this new house rule. "I do not shop with a list," I said in my most haughty of voices. Who does he think I am? As I recall, there might have even been some fuming going on. This dude must be crazy. Was this really about the list? Or about giving The Hub some ingenuity praise? Eh, tomatOES, TomAtoes, in the end it was about giving up a sacred cardinal rule: acknowledge that The Hub is right.

The kids will think I have sold out, they will say mom "oh, no!" Perhaps, but for some strange reason, I decide to concede to his plan. The next time we went to the store I had my refrigerator list and made a big deal out of keeping it my pocket. I do believe The Hub even asked me where it was. "Ugh. Don't worry. I have it." I pouted. You have to understand, this guy has a strong opinion about anything. Scratch that. Strong opinion about everything. So while that is a joy to embrace, we have to keep our guard up and not let him get too many advances in the house. It just keeps the balance, you know? This silly old list thing just seemed like a sure victory for me. I have a great memory, I think... Okay, so brain cells dying from multiple pregnancies didn't regrow as I had hoped, and short-term memory loss is a real thing, but still. Still. I don't need no stinkin' list, I thought, with a foot-stomp for good measure.

Yet, there I was. In the grocery store with my list. The Hub happily pushing my basket, embracing his bright idea. Was he humming a joy of giddiness? We got only the things on the list and spent only the money we anticipated spending and I do think I smelled the pungent smell of gloating at the check out line. But a graceful man is he, so he delightfully waited until we reached the car to open his trap. "See, I told you this was a great idea." Big, big smile plastered across his face.

So here I write, victory was out of my grasp on this one. He was right. Okay, it's a secret "right" because I haven't decided to go public with it yet. I mean, really. If I tell him how great that idea was, how much sense it makes to be prepared, how logical it is to be specific about what you are doing and avoid frivolousness, why, the man's head might just explode. So I'm doing him a favor, no? Yeah, that's it. I'm helping him. And I am keeping the balance (and sanity) of our home. Good job, Mom. He should be thanking me.

True, we all want our children to take on our best characteristics and use them for good. This morning when Youngest described to me the exact way his toast should be "decorated fancy," with stripes of jelly and butter, I must admit I had a flash-forward. He stood hovering, "yea, mom like that. Oh, that's too much. More on that side." My goodness, the boy is his father's son. He knows what he wants, how he wants it and is not afraid to tell you so. And he is the Youngest. That means when all the others (the ones that bring the balance) are grown up and gone it will be me, The Hub and Youngest. Oh. My. Goodness. What have I gotten myself into...

All In A Week's Work...

I hesitate to share this blog post with you, friends. I would hate for you to think for even a moment that I am bragging, boasting or soliciting your sympathies. Now that we have that disclaimer out of the way, I wanted to give you a one-week glance into the Copelands' life. Strap on your seat belt; it'sa do-sey.

Sunday - awesome worship service...I think. I was in Children's Church delighting those sweet souls with my presence and charming state of being. You know in a small church there is a whole lot of that; everyone chipping in and helping out. Translation: the Pastor's wife was working Children's Church. Do I need to remind you of my disclaimer above? During my stint (relax, I'm kidding!) I did make a mental reminder to myself that I want to get a tambourine for those Sundays when I am in worship service. Make a joyful noise, right? I'm putting it on my Christmas list. Our small little piece of heaven-on-earth has not yet been graced with live singers and musicians. So, the more noise I can make "joyfully" the better and trust me, no one there wants me to sing. They ought to be lining up to buy me that tambourine.

Monday - naturally, a work day for both The Hub and me. Both full-time employees, we're up early, the kids are bustling about. Let me just say The Hub has recently graduated to an office manager, meaning office hours for him. As a realtor, he's reveled over the years in his ability to work from home, sleep-in if he wants, and flexibility. Let's just say a morning person he is not. I'm proud of him, friends. He's done a great job getting out of the door on time. Don't be mistaken, we are still all sittng at the table with breakfast done when he is getting into the shower, but still...we leave the house on time. So Monday brings, getting dressed, brush teeth, put your shoes on, you know how that goes. Thankfully I got smart awhile ago and braid my two girls' hair so that it lasts for about two weeks at a time. I can't tell you how intense it was trying to do two heads of hair EACH morning. Can you say "crazy?" By the time we get out the door each day we are thinking we should declare the army's slogan, having done more by 6am then some folks do all day. After a full day of work, Soccer Chick has soccer practice. Then there's dinner, homework, showers, oh my.

Tuesday - repeat of our first workday of the week, and substitute Soccer Chick for Bball Girl and her baseball practice that evening. Same dinner routine, some more homework (have you a child in Fairfax County? You feel my pain), and definitely showers, oh my.

Wednesday - we do it again, only this time, to spice things up, we add some Bible Study in the mix. This is hosted by us, in our home. There's dinner and somewhere previous to this night a lesson was planned for the adults and one for the kids. It's a joy and a pleasure, but definitely hosting is a lot of work, week after week. And we still have the same routine of homework, showers and more, oh my.

Thursday - Soccer Chick is at it again. Repeat of her evening practice and repeat of our workdays and evening routines. And sometimes, just for fun, Bball Girl might have a makeup baseball game to keep us on our toes.

Friday - My God. We've made it to Friday. Usually this is a relaxing evening. Maybe some Chantilly Charger football, maybe not. Usually the girls have some sort of friend-action in the works. This always seems to feel like my time to exhale.

And then there's Saturdays. Those are chock-full of sports games and kid activities. This week we added even more to our weekly festivities. We added a teacher conference to resolve a mini-crisis (Go Copelands!), and to support our little man in his adjustment to kindergarten. This also happened to be a week that my daytime job required me to travel one hour in classic Northern VA traffic for a 20-mile distance to a satellite office. Let me not forget to factor in the remote assistance and checking-up-on of our Oldest as he's 3 hours away at college. Somewhere in there The Hub prepares for a Sunday sermon, and also somewhere in there we all manage to keep everything flowing. It's a busy life, but we wouldn't have it any other way. That's the truth.

Why is it so? For one thing, we get these unexpected little gifts from God, called "rain." Rain means, practice cancelled, game is a n0-go. Those are what I like to call mini-breathers. I'll also tell you that our life works because of God as the center and love as the binding agent. To use the recent words of Jennifer Lopez, as she recovered from her recent emotional breakdown on stage, I'll state "there's love...and then there's love." The latter being in reference to her connection with her children. God's gift to us; they love us "more than the sky," according to Youngest. Who couldn't overflow with love for a kid who suffers a bump after horseplaying with his overgrown sister, and says "I need an ice pack for the ramp on the back of my head."

"L" Factor

Many of you might be interested in the new show "X Factor." I am one of those interested persons. I got into American Idol early on, and then the love interest faded for me. With this new show, I have found it has all the wow and pizazz of American Idol and also lots of bells and whistles, twists and turns, that make it different. The kids and I have enjoyed watching as the season winds down and the contestants get weeded out.

What really amazes me is who some of the finalists are. Some of them I just don't get what the buzz is all about. This guy would be one of them:

Dexter Haygood. Early on I pondered how he got through each stage. He has a sad story, for sure. It definitely saddened me to see he is homeless, living out of his car, has struggled with alcohol and drug problems in the past and just wants to be a rock and roll singer. But, as I watched him perform I just didn't get the potential. Apparently judge Nicole does.

So here we are last night watching X Factor as it broadcasts live and it's Dexter's turn to perform. I do not know what happened on my TV screen. It was strange, outdated and unmoving. Yet, when it came time for judging and letting go, judge Nicole fretted about who to dismiss from the competition. Seriously?

Let me tell you that Miss Bball Girl also has made decisions early on. She decided right away that she liked him. When I asked why, she replied that he is homeless, living in his care and that is just not right. So, with that background information on him she was instantly sold that he deserved to be a winner. And as a fan, Bball Girl hasn't tolerate any of my criticism of his performances. While we awaited judge Nicole's decision I glance over at my girl and her fingers are literally crossed in hopes that this guy will win. Seriously?

If you watched you know that he got cut. He was "shocked," he said. And my girl? Devastated. She cried. Huge crocodile tears. Over Dexter Haygood's loss. I asked that sweet thing why she was so upset. Somehow through blubbering tears she managed to convey that he will have to go back to his car and will have no food, no job. He's pulling his clothes out of his trunk, mom!" she wailed. Wow. Oh, this girl, if anything SHE is the "L" Factor. Being that her actual name starts with L, she has got that "it" factor, what all of us human beings need. Pure, unbridled compassion. I would say she is destined to be a CEO of a world peace organization, but she is a hands-on, living-in-the-jungle, changing-the-world kind of girl. Seriously.

And isn't my attitude just like the rest of the world? Lacking compassion or vision to see this man as a winner? Just like us humans, sometimes, unable to see the value and potential in others. So, as her uncompassionate, jaded mother, I sit there like "Are you kidding me? This guy should win a five million dollar prize? Look at him?" Don't get me wrong, when she fell apart I comforted her, hugged her and tried to explain to her that he will be fine. I believe he will. "He's been on TV, people have seen him," I try to convince her. "He can get work now." Someone will pay that guy to sing somewhere. I tried to reassure her that he won't be living out of his car anymore, but she wasn't having it. Was down right insistent that this was a tragedy.

That thing that the world is largely missing, an honest desire to see suffering end, is her natural state of being. She hurts when people hurt. I wish I could bottle and sell that! Seriously.

Make Fun of Me!

After fourteen years of marriage, and seven years of dating, one thing I have learned is that my husband, the delightful Hub, takes great pleasure in making fun of me. That's right, clowns me. Believe it or not, it is very endearing. And don't you fret, he doesn't reserve that constant joy for just me; there aren't too many people close to him that don't get to be a part of his fun.

One of his favorite areas of target is anything to do with the way I was raised. You know, things like making a gift list so you can properly write thank you notes, actually writing thank you notes, opening one present at a time on Christmas, pickle and swiss cheese sandwiches (don't ask), letter pancakes (not sure you want to ask about this one either!), and the list goes on. There seems to be an endless field of funny stuff. Since we've known each other since I was 15 and he was 18, we have grown up together. This translates to my life being material for his stand-up comedy.

This weekend I added more material to his répertoire. Youngest and I gutted a pumpkin. Yes, this too was an annual tradition in my home growing up. Who doesn't do that? The Hub apparently. There were no pumpkins gutted for him.

So Youngest and I took care of that bad boy. Youngest wasn't too keen on all the gooey mess that exists in there, and was quite puzzled trying to figure out how it got inside when there is no opening. We pulled out all the pumpkin seeds and I told him we would be roasting them. "For what?" he wondered. Well, duh! To eat. Who doesn't do that? We cleaned them, dried them and baked them. I found this wonderful recipe here: http://allrecipes.com/recipe/roasted-pumpkin-seeds/detail.aspx We had a wonderful time melting some butter, adding a pinch of salt. I did say a pinch, but not sure Youngest's skill set includes a "pinch" of anything. We had a great time.

And then The Hub came in. Wondering what in the world we were doing, we explained we were roasting seeds. Friends, I wish you could have seen the eyes a'rollin and the sideways glance looking at us like we were crazy. "Where do they do that at?" is what I'm sure he was thinking. Nevertheless, we would not be deterred. We roasted them for about 40 minutes and when they were finished, we sampled. Everyone except Bball Girl. She's a funny one. She said they smelled funny and they didn't look quite right. This is one time advertising doesn't lie. Our pumpkin seeds looks just like the ones on the recipe. In my gung-ho-ness I even forgot to turn them while baking, like the recipe told me to. Yet, they were a beautiful golden-brown, sweet from the butter and the salt was, um...not lacking.

As we are scooping up handfuls of them, crunching away, I wondered why we only bought one pumpkin. The Hub decides to sample them. It became immediately clear that this fella would clown me and my kid-friendly activity WHILE he eats the seeds. The man has no shame. Now I ask you, where do they do that at? No matter. It's all in good fun and if The Hub didn't tease and make fun of us we would know something is wrong. Everyone should have that person in their life that brings joy and happiness and knows how to have a good time. You can't have The Hub but I hope you have, or find, someone like him. Maybe that someone is you! Learn to love, live and most of all, ENJOY life. The Lord knows we have been through some serious roller coasters over the past few years, but we have never stopped laughing. And we have never lost our joy. Even if it comes with the price tag of being clowned.

Have you ever tried roasted pumpkin seeds? Do it! So simple, and such a delightful treat. What a fun way to spend a few moments with the kiddos. And they taste amazing. Youngest reflected, "wouldn't it be wonderful if we could make a pumpkin pie from all that inside orange-y stuff?" Listen buddy, don't push it.