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
Monday, October 31, 2011
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.
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.
Friday, October 28, 2011
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...
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...
Thursday, October 27, 2011
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."
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."
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
"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.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Weekend Wonders...
My weekend sports heroes were back in the swing of things this past weekend. I'm happy to report to you the heavy rain between Thursday and Friday did not damper their activities. I am even more happy to report to you that the first Saturday game wasn't until 12:15pm. Hallelujah! First weekend in well over 4 weeks that I have been able to sleep in. That's what I'm talking about! Of course, Bball Girl sauntering in at 8:30am to say "hello" and give me a sweet kiss wasn't a bad thing, but sure did prevent the sleep-in that I thought I would have.
With three kids on sports teams at the same time, we are bound to have some overlap. Most weekends, in fact, we have to be creative with who is going where, and with whom, and when. This weekend was extra crafty as all three games were closely connected in time. All of us were able to head out to Youngest's soccer game to watch a mini David Beckham / Pele / Speed Racer do his thing. Perhaps he was out of practice from missing two weeks of gaming, and perhaps that contributed to the slow start of the 1st half. But! By second half it was game on! Mr. Flash was ridiculous, actually. The team was down 5-0, with no hope of a comeback. But you know what friends? There is always hope. And for the Fireball soccer team, this weekend's hope was named Youngest. That fella scored 4 back to back goals all within 5 minutes of play time. The team finished with a 6-5 win!
Next it was divide and conquer. I took Bball Girl to her baseball game. Two hours...I should have brought a book. To be fair, it wasn't a boring game to watch. There was certainly some action, including miss thing catching a nice pop fly at 3rd and an almost second out at 3rd where she caught the ball from a teammate's throw and touched the base instead of tagging the runner. We have to work on the difference between a forced run and a stolen base. We're working on it.
Meanwhile, The Hub was at Soccer Chick's game. Thank God for texting capabilities. He and I literally kept each other updated by this wonderful technology. Turns out Soccer Chick scored a fantastic goal, although her team took a loss, 2-3. Since I didn't have the pleasure of being there, The Hub took it upon himself to act out the goal, using Bball Chick and Youngest as his opponents. He carefully placed them in position and used our kitchen to show me Soccer Chick's moves. Funny, I feel as if I was there in person after watching that.
It was a great weekend of sports games and simply beautiful fall weather. Wish you could have been there!
With three kids on sports teams at the same time, we are bound to have some overlap. Most weekends, in fact, we have to be creative with who is going where, and with whom, and when. This weekend was extra crafty as all three games were closely connected in time. All of us were able to head out to Youngest's soccer game to watch a mini David Beckham / Pele / Speed Racer do his thing. Perhaps he was out of practice from missing two weeks of gaming, and perhaps that contributed to the slow start of the 1st half. But! By second half it was game on! Mr. Flash was ridiculous, actually. The team was down 5-0, with no hope of a comeback. But you know what friends? There is always hope. And for the Fireball soccer team, this weekend's hope was named Youngest. That fella scored 4 back to back goals all within 5 minutes of play time. The team finished with a 6-5 win!
Next it was divide and conquer. I took Bball Girl to her baseball game. Two hours...I should have brought a book. To be fair, it wasn't a boring game to watch. There was certainly some action, including miss thing catching a nice pop fly at 3rd and an almost second out at 3rd where she caught the ball from a teammate's throw and touched the base instead of tagging the runner. We have to work on the difference between a forced run and a stolen base. We're working on it.
Meanwhile, The Hub was at Soccer Chick's game. Thank God for texting capabilities. He and I literally kept each other updated by this wonderful technology. Turns out Soccer Chick scored a fantastic goal, although her team took a loss, 2-3. Since I didn't have the pleasure of being there, The Hub took it upon himself to act out the goal, using Bball Chick and Youngest as his opponents. He carefully placed them in position and used our kitchen to show me Soccer Chick's moves. Funny, I feel as if I was there in person after watching that.
It was a great weekend of sports games and simply beautiful fall weather. Wish you could have been there!
Friday, October 14, 2011
Still Got It...
Making the hour trek home from work yesterday evening almost made me forget that the elementary school was hosting the "dine in" day at this precious place: http://sweetfrogyogurt.com/ All of their comrades who bullied their parents into attending would be benefiting their school by having the store donate 20% of proceeds back to the school. I am confident that this is all the whole school talked about on Thursday and they each plotted to surprise attack, wrangle and rope, and then drag their parents to the store on that very evening.
So as I walked in from that hour-long drive, the buzz in the air was palpable. Every morsel of homework was completed, reading was done, clothes were even picked out for the next day. Hmm, friends, I thought to myself, now what in the world has gotten into them. I didn't have to think too long before the barrage of "can we puh-leaseeeee go to Sweet Frog tonight? ALL of my friends will be there." Now, multiply that by 3 kids and you can see my warm welcome home.
After dinner, what did we do? Head to Sweet Frog. What a night! Can you make a yogurt place into a nightclub scene, with dancing music, greeting of friends, a little shoulder-shaking and lots of laughter? Why, yes. Yes you can. Apparently all you have to do is invite an entire school to participate at one time.
When we arrived, the scene wasn't too bad. Maybe I can remember it as we brought the party with us? No sooner than we had made our way into the line that a ton, yes a ton, of people arrived and the line was out the door. This is a small shop, guys. There isn't a whole lot of room and certainly not many tables. With the party music jumping, we foot-shuffled our way through the yogurt dispensers and to the toppings. Somehow we were fortunate enough to get us a back corner seating arrangement. What a grab! We got to see all the action. And, boy, what action it was.
The kids weren't lying when they said all their friends would be there. We saw them with our own eyes. I don't think there were too many students missing. Did I mention that there was a tornado watch for our area last night? Or that as this line was wrapped out the door and down the sidewalk it was lightning and raining heavily? As Youngest would say, "it don't matta!"
Just to make sure my kids know that I still got it, I didn't mind sitting in that corner, shaking my groove thing. In the seat, of course. Its one thing to embarrass them. A complete other thing to embarrass myself. We had some Micheal Jackson old tunes flowing, some Beyonce going, and man, that place was popping. Youngest saw both his main squeezes. When his favorite-favorite arrived he spotted her before we did. Never have I seen a little blond-haired child's face turn red faster. And you know I'm not talking about Youngest. Let's just say they were happy to see each other. And with that Youngest was gone. Just like in the clubbin' days, see someone you know, and you are gone. Mingling, conversing, forgot all about the people you came with. That would be how Youngest left us. And Bball Girl took her clue to do the same thing. Only Soccer Chick graced us with her hang out time. She and her bff crew sat near us and provided plenty of entertainment. Every ten minutes or so we would see Youngest or Bball Girl's head pop up. Like good parents, we were then assured that they at least hadn't been swallowed alive by the crowd.
I can't imagine we were there for over and hour. It felt like days. Youngest had one favorite chick leave and then the other favorite arrived. "Just like his ole' dad used to be," remarked The Hub. "Make sure girl #2 doesn't arrive until girl #1 is safely gone." You know I am shaking my head now as I was shaking my head then. By the time we made it safely back home I promise it felt like we hadn't been in our house for days. Remember those days? Ever have those days? Too much fun in one sitting to feel like it was just one sitting. Whoever had the brilliant idea to coordinate this evening out, kudos to you! The kids had a blast and we had one more confirmation that we are still cool people. Yes, in a yogurt shop.
So as I walked in from that hour-long drive, the buzz in the air was palpable. Every morsel of homework was completed, reading was done, clothes were even picked out for the next day. Hmm, friends, I thought to myself, now what in the world has gotten into them. I didn't have to think too long before the barrage of "can we puh-leaseeeee go to Sweet Frog tonight? ALL of my friends will be there." Now, multiply that by 3 kids and you can see my warm welcome home.
After dinner, what did we do? Head to Sweet Frog. What a night! Can you make a yogurt place into a nightclub scene, with dancing music, greeting of friends, a little shoulder-shaking and lots of laughter? Why, yes. Yes you can. Apparently all you have to do is invite an entire school to participate at one time.
When we arrived, the scene wasn't too bad. Maybe I can remember it as we brought the party with us? No sooner than we had made our way into the line that a ton, yes a ton, of people arrived and the line was out the door. This is a small shop, guys. There isn't a whole lot of room and certainly not many tables. With the party music jumping, we foot-shuffled our way through the yogurt dispensers and to the toppings. Somehow we were fortunate enough to get us a back corner seating arrangement. What a grab! We got to see all the action. And, boy, what action it was.
The kids weren't lying when they said all their friends would be there. We saw them with our own eyes. I don't think there were too many students missing. Did I mention that there was a tornado watch for our area last night? Or that as this line was wrapped out the door and down the sidewalk it was lightning and raining heavily? As Youngest would say, "it don't matta!"
Just to make sure my kids know that I still got it, I didn't mind sitting in that corner, shaking my groove thing. In the seat, of course. Its one thing to embarrass them. A complete other thing to embarrass myself. We had some Micheal Jackson old tunes flowing, some Beyonce going, and man, that place was popping. Youngest saw both his main squeezes. When his favorite-favorite arrived he spotted her before we did. Never have I seen a little blond-haired child's face turn red faster. And you know I'm not talking about Youngest. Let's just say they were happy to see each other. And with that Youngest was gone. Just like in the clubbin' days, see someone you know, and you are gone. Mingling, conversing, forgot all about the people you came with. That would be how Youngest left us. And Bball Girl took her clue to do the same thing. Only Soccer Chick graced us with her hang out time. She and her bff crew sat near us and provided plenty of entertainment. Every ten minutes or so we would see Youngest or Bball Girl's head pop up. Like good parents, we were then assured that they at least hadn't been swallowed alive by the crowd.
I can't imagine we were there for over and hour. It felt like days. Youngest had one favorite chick leave and then the other favorite arrived. "Just like his ole' dad used to be," remarked The Hub. "Make sure girl #2 doesn't arrive until girl #1 is safely gone." You know I am shaking my head now as I was shaking my head then. By the time we made it safely back home I promise it felt like we hadn't been in our house for days. Remember those days? Ever have those days? Too much fun in one sitting to feel like it was just one sitting. Whoever had the brilliant idea to coordinate this evening out, kudos to you! The kids had a blast and we had one more confirmation that we are still cool people. Yes, in a yogurt shop.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Value The Valuables...
Nope, not talking about the jewelry, the car OR the house. Those things for sure have value, but this morning I am reflecting on those intangibles. You know the saying, "you always want what you can't have." One of those catchy sayings people love to throw at you when you are sounding ungrateful or pouty. Hate to break it to you, my dear readers, but it is SO true. Sadness. For example, I would LOVE to have a thick head of waving, flowing hair. It will not happen. One look at my genetic line and I slink down into my destiny of reality. If I could channel Beyonce's locks, man, life would be grand. Or perhaps I could covet some hollywood-type body. I could have the legs of Rihanna, tall and lean. I could have the looks of Eva Longoria, and I already added Beyonce's hair. Okay, so that is one wierd looking combo, but you get my drift.
See, but those thoughts just entertain me. I know that stuff won't happen. So, I don't put much time or energy into fantasizing about what I don't have. And I try real hard to be very grateful for what I do have. That includes The Hub. What a guy, gush, gush. He's very well-known for his catchy sayings, repetitive jokes and Lord, don't let him get a-hold of something he can't let go of. He will wear it into the ground. Sometimes it is a catchy 80's or 90's tune from way back when we were teenagers. He teaches it to the kids, lets them see a video of it on Youtube, and goodness, the whole house is singing it for two weeks. The man had me singing Will Smith's "Summertime," my awful rendition of it anyway, for a month! Why did it linger so? Well, because there's humor in my version and one things the Copelands do is spend time laughing.
Another of The Hub's predictable actions is his morning wake up call. Daily he bursts into the kids' rooms singing some song that is from now. When I say "burst" I don't mean any piece of him comes in quietly. It might be Justin Bieber, maybe some Selena Gomez, likely some Miranda Carsgrove. Whatever his song of choice is, he comes in loudly and a deaf person couldn't ignore him. Drives the kids crazy! They like to usher him out of their door, slam and lock that bad boy and he will stand there singing from the hallway. It has become a source of great joy for him. For them...not so much. I told them to slap him on the forehead like it's his snooze button. Maybe that will buy them some time. Picture 7am, the sun isn't even up yet, and The Hub is breaking down some pop song of today. You already know it is embarrassing when your parents try to sing anything that is from your generation, period.
Knowing how much the kids dread this wake up call, it was amusing to each of them when he overslept. Talk about a snooze button. They got up quietly with their perfect little mama giving them light, sweet little soft shakes, "wake up honey pie." A stark contrast to their dad's version. I'm also exaggerating the delivery of mine, but for blogging sake, it works. Nonetheless, The Hub missed his cue yesterday. Almost immediately after getting out of bed Bball Girl let him know he missed it. Funny enough, they complain, they whine, they beg him, in fact, to please STOP singing, and yet the one day it was missing they missed it. How about that...
As they prepared for bed last evening, I was surprised and amused to hear Soccer Chick affectionately ask her daddy what song he would be singing the next morning. Girlfriend was really wanting to make sure The Hub didn't miss a 2nd day in a row. Isn't that just the way? We stomp our feet, pout and fuss over what is going on in our lives TODAY, but Lord, let God change some things up and we want to go back to the way it was. Be careful what you ask for. Those things you wish God would get rid of might just be the valuables you need God to keep the same. Might be a bickering relationship, school or that job that you can't take another day of. But let tomorrow bring something completely different, and that job, person or school enrollment is now more, and we will be begging God to bring it back. The lesson for us is to be wise before we have to learn the hard way. Who wants to have something "annoying" all of a sudden come up missing and then we are turning left and right trying to figure out what happened. Value those valuables now while you have them. They might drive you crazy, but imagine a life without them. Quiet and lacking. Who wouldn't rather have some noise in their life over having no noise at all?
See, but those thoughts just entertain me. I know that stuff won't happen. So, I don't put much time or energy into fantasizing about what I don't have. And I try real hard to be very grateful for what I do have. That includes The Hub. What a guy, gush, gush. He's very well-known for his catchy sayings, repetitive jokes and Lord, don't let him get a-hold of something he can't let go of. He will wear it into the ground. Sometimes it is a catchy 80's or 90's tune from way back when we were teenagers. He teaches it to the kids, lets them see a video of it on Youtube, and goodness, the whole house is singing it for two weeks. The man had me singing Will Smith's "Summertime," my awful rendition of it anyway, for a month! Why did it linger so? Well, because there's humor in my version and one things the Copelands do is spend time laughing.
Another of The Hub's predictable actions is his morning wake up call. Daily he bursts into the kids' rooms singing some song that is from now. When I say "burst" I don't mean any piece of him comes in quietly. It might be Justin Bieber, maybe some Selena Gomez, likely some Miranda Carsgrove. Whatever his song of choice is, he comes in loudly and a deaf person couldn't ignore him. Drives the kids crazy! They like to usher him out of their door, slam and lock that bad boy and he will stand there singing from the hallway. It has become a source of great joy for him. For them...not so much. I told them to slap him on the forehead like it's his snooze button. Maybe that will buy them some time. Picture 7am, the sun isn't even up yet, and The Hub is breaking down some pop song of today. You already know it is embarrassing when your parents try to sing anything that is from your generation, period.
Knowing how much the kids dread this wake up call, it was amusing to each of them when he overslept. Talk about a snooze button. They got up quietly with their perfect little mama giving them light, sweet little soft shakes, "wake up honey pie." A stark contrast to their dad's version. I'm also exaggerating the delivery of mine, but for blogging sake, it works. Nonetheless, The Hub missed his cue yesterday. Almost immediately after getting out of bed Bball Girl let him know he missed it. Funny enough, they complain, they whine, they beg him, in fact, to please STOP singing, and yet the one day it was missing they missed it. How about that...
As they prepared for bed last evening, I was surprised and amused to hear Soccer Chick affectionately ask her daddy what song he would be singing the next morning. Girlfriend was really wanting to make sure The Hub didn't miss a 2nd day in a row. Isn't that just the way? We stomp our feet, pout and fuss over what is going on in our lives TODAY, but Lord, let God change some things up and we want to go back to the way it was. Be careful what you ask for. Those things you wish God would get rid of might just be the valuables you need God to keep the same. Might be a bickering relationship, school or that job that you can't take another day of. But let tomorrow bring something completely different, and that job, person or school enrollment is now more, and we will be begging God to bring it back. The lesson for us is to be wise before we have to learn the hard way. Who wants to have something "annoying" all of a sudden come up missing and then we are turning left and right trying to figure out what happened. Value those valuables now while you have them. They might drive you crazy, but imagine a life without them. Quiet and lacking. Who wouldn't rather have some noise in their life over having no noise at all?
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Tim Tebow'd Up...
A few posts back I blogged about my favorite sport to watch: football. I mentioned some players that I liked in discussing my dilemma over not having a favorite "team" to align myself to. In light of recent media coverage I have realized that I left out my very favorite player, Tim Tebow. In my defense, I was working off memory (which we know is damaged from overload of kid-business) from the previous day (and night's) football game-watching. That said, I want to divert my attention and yours back to Senor Tim.The Hub pointed out to me that last week the Broncos replaced their starting quarterback with their back up, Mr. Tebow, mid-game, bringing the Broncos from a huge deficit to almost winning the game. And so, with that my man Tim comes back into the limelight. I first heard of Tim for his college performance on the field and as he got drafted to the NFL, I became a fan. Any person who is vocal about his faith, using the platform God has granted him wins my heart, hands down.
Let me tell you about Tim...He's not afraid to life out loud for Jesus. Raised as a Christian, this boy's mama and his papa taught him well. Missionaries and, at the time of his mother's pregnancy with Tim, pastors, his parents were faced with the doctor-recommended choice of an abortion in light of pregnancy complications and the likelihood of Tim's birth defects, if not being stillborn. Despite the report given by medical professionals, his parents, people of great faith, believed the report of the Lord. That's a reason to praise the Lord right there. They prayed, and decided the Lord had a plan. A special plan. His name is Tim.
Mr. Tim, ranked among the top quarterbacks in the nation as a high school student, he went on to have a fabulous college football performance, and was a top pick in the NFL draft of 2010. And this is where Tim and I meet. Well, in my mind, we've met. I'm drinking the Tim juice, friends. I stand as a fan, especially in light of his scripture notations on his face each game, and his impressive "GB2" motto (God Bless + Go Broncos). I'm not a Broncos fan, but friends, I am so excited that God has opened the door for Tim to shine. He's been faithfully waiting in the wings for his opportunity to get out on that field, and next game for the Broncos, Tim is the starting quarterback.
Never be ashamed to shine for God. He's going to give some amazing platforms and if we speak of Him in hushed, private tones, or only inside the church doors, are we really doing our job representing Him? For Tim's bold, brave faith, I am a true fan. My prayer as a parent is that whatever platform God gives my talented children, they use that platform just as Tim has. He has a story to tell and he is telling it. This week I joked on my facebook status that I was buying a Lions jersey, and jumping on their bandwagon of fans since they are having such an incredible comeback story. Did you know they haven't been 5-0 since the 1950's? Who doesn't love the underdog story? Go Lions!!! That said, I might just have to don a Broncos jersey. I wish their team colors weren't quite so awful. Who willing wants to wear bright orange? I may not be able to convince myself to wear the colors, but I'm for sure preparing to watch, and root loudly for, Tim Tebow. Check him out... http://www.timtebow.com/
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Lie...Sometimes
As a parent, you know you have permission to live by that "do as I say, not as I do" rule. If you didn't know, now you know. I give you that permission. There are moments in life when being the example just doesn't work. I get those moments. Often.
Recently, I made the very tough decision to lie to my child. I know, I know, you are just shaking your heads left and right. You might even stand high on your beautifully decorated soapbox and tell me this is the all-time parenting no-no. I would agree with you. Is there room for me on your soapbox? Because I will stand there with you. But, like all things that sound good in theory and look differently in application, I made a choice. I told Youngest his game was cancelled. Friends, sadly it was not.
It was a busy weekend, such as we have repeatedly during the fall and spring sports seasons. Each of our precious gems had a game and although not back to back, they were consecutive. That weekend was going to find mama driving literally from one field, directly to the next field, in the rain...and the cold, for a span of about 6 hours. Perhaps if any of those elements in the equation were taken out of the picture, the result would have been different. But, it wasn't so. After shivering under a blanket not meant for rain and mud at a dragged-on baseball game for Bball Girl, I made the mom-professional, executive decision to tell Youngest his game was (gulp) cancelled due to rain. "No sweetie," I gushed, "the fields are just too wet..."
Now, before you go condemning me for the ultimate mom-sin, realize that I was juggling three and did I mention it was cold? I'm certain I painted an accurate picture for you. Cold. Rainy. Wet. Nasty. Not the kind of day I prefer to sacrifice my comfort level in. As the baseball game neared an end and Youngest was jumping up and down literally in front of my eyeballs, I took a deep breathe and said "Sorry buddy. You're game was cancelled." I just couldn't imagine sitting through another hour of this weather. And, I rationalized, surely I will get home to my warm house and find an email in my inbox confirming my decision.
You know that lying is a sin and you know that I am not advising you to commit any sin, big or small. Sometimes, you just gotta do what you gotta do. Or better said, sometimes we just do what we think we gotta do. Youngest is clearly not old enough to care if the game was canceled or not and within 10 minutes of getting home and zooming into relaxation mode, his thoughts were on other things. Didn't I do him a favor?
Isn't that how we rationalize our behavior? A lie, is a lie, for sure. Yet, when we find ourselves in these tough spots (I mean, come on, who really thinks I should have continued to freeze my face off?) how do we balance the choice and decide we're going for the lie? Probably, we rely most heavily on how is this decision going to affect me. That's what I did. It was about me and my cold butt and freezing toes, not to mention muddy blanket. Usually, our everyday common "white" lies are the same. We examine how is this lie, or telling the truth, is going to affect me.
Sunday, our pastor preached the second part in his sermon series, "Slaying the Giants." This week we discussed the giant of "self". Whew, child. This is a sermon that is hard for most of us to swallow whole. Self? Man, self is usually of the utmost importance. Self guides our decisions, keeps us protected, shields us from our enemies. But wait...isn't that God's exact job description? If self is in control aren't we in fact, not allowing God to do His job? If we could put self in the right perspective, perhaps we wouldn't lie, sometimes. Actually, perhaps we might even let God see us through what we are trying to avoid. Would I have survived an additional hour and half in the cold? Yup, for sure. Did I, mySELF, want to? Nope, for sure. Did I turn to The Hub to get him to co-sign with me? Yes, sir. Did he do it? He sure did. Is God trying to show us that sometimes what is the best decision for us is not what we want but exactly what we DON'T want? Absolutely.
Recently, I made the very tough decision to lie to my child. I know, I know, you are just shaking your heads left and right. You might even stand high on your beautifully decorated soapbox and tell me this is the all-time parenting no-no. I would agree with you. Is there room for me on your soapbox? Because I will stand there with you. But, like all things that sound good in theory and look differently in application, I made a choice. I told Youngest his game was cancelled. Friends, sadly it was not.
It was a busy weekend, such as we have repeatedly during the fall and spring sports seasons. Each of our precious gems had a game and although not back to back, they were consecutive. That weekend was going to find mama driving literally from one field, directly to the next field, in the rain...and the cold, for a span of about 6 hours. Perhaps if any of those elements in the equation were taken out of the picture, the result would have been different. But, it wasn't so. After shivering under a blanket not meant for rain and mud at a dragged-on baseball game for Bball Girl, I made the mom-professional, executive decision to tell Youngest his game was (gulp) cancelled due to rain. "No sweetie," I gushed, "the fields are just too wet..."
Now, before you go condemning me for the ultimate mom-sin, realize that I was juggling three and did I mention it was cold? I'm certain I painted an accurate picture for you. Cold. Rainy. Wet. Nasty. Not the kind of day I prefer to sacrifice my comfort level in. As the baseball game neared an end and Youngest was jumping up and down literally in front of my eyeballs, I took a deep breathe and said "Sorry buddy. You're game was cancelled." I just couldn't imagine sitting through another hour of this weather. And, I rationalized, surely I will get home to my warm house and find an email in my inbox confirming my decision.
You know that lying is a sin and you know that I am not advising you to commit any sin, big or small. Sometimes, you just gotta do what you gotta do. Or better said, sometimes we just do what we think we gotta do. Youngest is clearly not old enough to care if the game was canceled or not and within 10 minutes of getting home and zooming into relaxation mode, his thoughts were on other things. Didn't I do him a favor?
Isn't that how we rationalize our behavior? A lie, is a lie, for sure. Yet, when we find ourselves in these tough spots (I mean, come on, who really thinks I should have continued to freeze my face off?) how do we balance the choice and decide we're going for the lie? Probably, we rely most heavily on how is this decision going to affect me. That's what I did. It was about me and my cold butt and freezing toes, not to mention muddy blanket. Usually, our everyday common "white" lies are the same. We examine how is this lie, or telling the truth, is going to affect me.
Sunday, our pastor preached the second part in his sermon series, "Slaying the Giants." This week we discussed the giant of "self". Whew, child. This is a sermon that is hard for most of us to swallow whole. Self? Man, self is usually of the utmost importance. Self guides our decisions, keeps us protected, shields us from our enemies. But wait...isn't that God's exact job description? If self is in control aren't we in fact, not allowing God to do His job? If we could put self in the right perspective, perhaps we wouldn't lie, sometimes. Actually, perhaps we might even let God see us through what we are trying to avoid. Would I have survived an additional hour and half in the cold? Yup, for sure. Did I, mySELF, want to? Nope, for sure. Did I turn to The Hub to get him to co-sign with me? Yes, sir. Did he do it? He sure did. Is God trying to show us that sometimes what is the best decision for us is not what we want but exactly what we DON'T want? Absolutely.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Use Time, Do Something...
My faithful readers, you know that with four children, all actively involved in sports, there is very little free time in our home. Even with Oldest gone off to college, we have three on sports teams, three enrolled in school with related activities and requirements and two full time jobs to work between the Hub and myself. So, simply stated: we're busy. On those precious, rare weekends when there is an interruption to the Saturday sports schedule, I do a virtual leap of joy. As I prepare our home calendar and see that weekend approaching, a delightful little smile creeps across the corners of my mouth. Yay, for Columbus Day weekend!
This particular holiday weekend my darling older sister came with her girls for a visit. It was a delightful time and she gets huge kudos for taking the plunge and making the drive. I, on the other hand, never seem to make time to drive out of town anywhere. I know that big sister of mine has a crazy, busy schedule too, so I have to say, I'm so pleased she makes time to come visit me every few months or so. She's a good girl.
This happy little weekend I had been invited by my lovely evangelist-friend Rev. Lois Bright, to attend the Women's Day Conference at her church. This little delightful place: http://www.montclairtab.org. Now seeing as how this church is about 45 minutes away from my house, and it was a holiday weekend approaching, I wasn't 100% sure this was a trip I wanted to make. I have blogged to you consistently about my early-morning Saturdays and I still have yet to see one this Fall season where I got to set that alarm for later than 7am. Not a complaint, just an accurate stat. I prayed about whether I wanted to give up my holiday Saturday. No sports games, no activities...not even invited to any kid birthday parties. This particular Saturday would be a freebie. You know those are rare. And then there's always the chance that you will regret attending an event such as this. The speaker could be bad, the food could be tasteless and the atmosphere could be godless. You just never know, when it's not your home church or an environment you are familiar with, you are running the risk of regretting your long-distance travels to attend. Been there, done that.
Yet, knowing my friend, one of the guest speakers, I knew she wouldn't disappoint. I knew her sermon would be on point and I would enjoy listening to her, if nothing else. So I gathered up some of our church lady friends and we committed to going. Boy, what a decision we made. It was a delightful day. Shout out to the Montclair Tabernacle Church of God folks. What a delightful day. The sessions were tremendous. The speakers for the sessions get my applause (hooray, Jomarie!) and I happily confess, I learned things I can use. The morning and afternoon speaker (this lovely lady: http://www.sharonglasgow.com, and my friend Rev. Lois Bright) were fabulous. I mean, fabulous. They provided wisdom, an on-time message from God and encouragement much needed. This was a Saturday much worth the sacrificial drive down to Dumfries.
Just as God designed it, when we get poured into, we are to pour out to others. God poured into these lovely ladies, they shared their gifts and talents with us, and I'm pouring out to you to encourage you to make a sacrificial decision, sometimes. I could have stayed home on Saturday, slept in and been alright with that decision. But I am oh-so glad I didn't. Sometimes life presents you those "maybe" situations where you can convince yourself you just need to rest. Pray about it. Perhaps God has a blessing for you that you can't even get an inkling of an idea about until you try it. If I had my way I wouldn't drive 45 minutes to attend an all-day women's event on an otherwise peaceful and relaxing day.
But friends, I can not lie to you. I would do it again if I could. Nothing can take away the encouragement and fellowship we experienced. If I had decided not to go I wouldn't have received the spiritual food that filled my little old heart to overflowing. Find and take advantage of those opportunities to be blessed! Your blessing will in turn allow you to bless someone else. And if each one of us, receives our full cup and turns around and pours it out to someone else who needs it, whew, child...what a wonderful world this would be.
This particular holiday weekend my darling older sister came with her girls for a visit. It was a delightful time and she gets huge kudos for taking the plunge and making the drive. I, on the other hand, never seem to make time to drive out of town anywhere. I know that big sister of mine has a crazy, busy schedule too, so I have to say, I'm so pleased she makes time to come visit me every few months or so. She's a good girl.
This happy little weekend I had been invited by my lovely evangelist-friend Rev. Lois Bright, to attend the Women's Day Conference at her church. This little delightful place: http://www.montclairtab.org. Now seeing as how this church is about 45 minutes away from my house, and it was a holiday weekend approaching, I wasn't 100% sure this was a trip I wanted to make. I have blogged to you consistently about my early-morning Saturdays and I still have yet to see one this Fall season where I got to set that alarm for later than 7am. Not a complaint, just an accurate stat. I prayed about whether I wanted to give up my holiday Saturday. No sports games, no activities...not even invited to any kid birthday parties. This particular Saturday would be a freebie. You know those are rare. And then there's always the chance that you will regret attending an event such as this. The speaker could be bad, the food could be tasteless and the atmosphere could be godless. You just never know, when it's not your home church or an environment you are familiar with, you are running the risk of regretting your long-distance travels to attend. Been there, done that.
Yet, knowing my friend, one of the guest speakers, I knew she wouldn't disappoint. I knew her sermon would be on point and I would enjoy listening to her, if nothing else. So I gathered up some of our church lady friends and we committed to going. Boy, what a decision we made. It was a delightful day. Shout out to the Montclair Tabernacle Church of God folks. What a delightful day. The sessions were tremendous. The speakers for the sessions get my applause (hooray, Jomarie!) and I happily confess, I learned things I can use. The morning and afternoon speaker (this lovely lady: http://www.sharonglasgow.com, and my friend Rev. Lois Bright) were fabulous. I mean, fabulous. They provided wisdom, an on-time message from God and encouragement much needed. This was a Saturday much worth the sacrificial drive down to Dumfries.
Just as God designed it, when we get poured into, we are to pour out to others. God poured into these lovely ladies, they shared their gifts and talents with us, and I'm pouring out to you to encourage you to make a sacrificial decision, sometimes. I could have stayed home on Saturday, slept in and been alright with that decision. But I am oh-so glad I didn't. Sometimes life presents you those "maybe" situations where you can convince yourself you just need to rest. Pray about it. Perhaps God has a blessing for you that you can't even get an inkling of an idea about until you try it. If I had my way I wouldn't drive 45 minutes to attend an all-day women's event on an otherwise peaceful and relaxing day.
But friends, I can not lie to you. I would do it again if I could. Nothing can take away the encouragement and fellowship we experienced. If I had decided not to go I wouldn't have received the spiritual food that filled my little old heart to overflowing. Find and take advantage of those opportunities to be blessed! Your blessing will in turn allow you to bless someone else. And if each one of us, receives our full cup and turns around and pours it out to someone else who needs it, whew, child...what a wonderful world this would be.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Team Searching...
I'm not here to rag on The Hub. I'm going to tattle that he watched football for no less than 7 hours straight yesterday. But I don't mean it as a bad thing. I'm actually kind of in awe. The man does not like TV shows, occasionally watches the news and doesn't have a "sit still" personality. So to watch game after game, after game yesterday is actually quite impressive. We're a football-loving family so Soccer Chick and I dropped in on a few parts of each of the games. And then we moved on. But with all that football in the house, it left me reflecting on my thoughts of the game.
Our family went to the Chantilly High football game this past Friday. Watched them stomp all over Edison High's poor team. 70-29. You read that right, 70. As in seventy! At some point in this killing Bball Girl asked me who we knew on this team we were cheering so loudly for. Um. No one. All our son's friends have graduated and this really is a squad we don't know. After she said that I kind of realized it is much more fun to watch a game when you know someone playing, or at least when you know OF someone playing.
Fast forward to Sunday evening, I watched a bit of the Packers and Broncos game. I watched highlights of the Eagles and 49ers game (they lost to them?) and I watched some of the Lions and Cowboys game (the Lions told me to tell you "roarrrrrrr"). As I watched each of these games I realized, once again, sadly, I do not have a "team." Almost everyone has a "team". Almost everyone has an NFL jersey and announces their loyalty to their football city of choice. But, then there's me. I don't have a team. I have been saying I am going to get one for quite some time now. But, how exactly, does one develop this incredible loyalty. Have you seen actual fans at actual football games? If you don't get ridiculous with your fan-game, you got no game at all.
As I have pondered who should be my team of choice, I have come up with the following reasons to like one team over another. First, I like Michael Oher. 
I'm ready to sign up as a Baltimore Raven. Why do I like him? Well, I love the underdog. I could watch the movie Blindside many, many times. I love the story of the one who came from nothing and battled to be something. So like a great groupie, once the movie came out, I feel in love with the idea of Michael Oher's life story. I want his adopted mom's story to be my story. If I was a rich woman I would adopt all those children who need love, stability and support. Yet, I couldn't tell you the name of one other player on that team. There's a Flacco, I think? For the official record, I did catch a few minutes of my boy Michael doing his thing yesterday.
I'm ready to sign up as a Baltimore Raven. Why do I like him? Well, I love the underdog. I could watch the movie Blindside many, many times. I love the story of the one who came from nothing and battled to be something. So like a great groupie, once the movie came out, I feel in love with the idea of Michael Oher's life story. I want his adopted mom's story to be my story. If I was a rich woman I would adopt all those children who need love, stability and support. Yet, I couldn't tell you the name of one other player on that team. There's a Flacco, I think? For the official record, I did catch a few minutes of my boy Michael doing his thing yesterday.Second, I like Aaron Rodgers. 
To combat your thoughts of my groupie-ness, I don't like him because he won the Superbowl this year. Although, confession: I never heard of him before that. Laugh with me. So, al
right,
To combat your thoughts of my groupie-ness, I don't like him because he won the Superbowl this year. Although, confession: I never heard of him before that. Laugh with me. So, al
right, 
that's how he became a somebody to me, but I like him. I like the way he plays, his after game interviews, the way he interacts with his team. I love his championship belt move after each touchdown, and the way he does that dive into the crowd when he runs a touch down in.
Th
ird, I like Michael Vick. This sort of goes towards the underdog story, and no, there is no pun intended there. I feel bad for him. I am that person who, like my mother, will say everyone has a good heart. Right ma? I think that putting massive amounts of money in the hands of young people without proper guidance is a recipe for disaster. Mike's tragic decisions with dogfighting weren't surprising. Sad, but not shocking. Yet to me, he stands out as someone trying very hard to redeem himself. And let's face it, the man is incredibly talented. Try as I might, to sign on as an Eagles fan, I'm having difficulty doing it. Perhaps if they were playing better these last few games it would be easier. But hey, I guess that statement alone shows I am not a true fan. True fans will fight someone over speaking badly over their team, even if their team is down in the dumps in performance. I'll keep looking for my team.
ird, I like Michael Vick. This sort of goes towards the underdog story, and no, there is no pun intended there. I feel bad for him. I am that person who, like my mother, will say everyone has a good heart. Right ma? I think that putting massive amounts of money in the hands of young people without proper guidance is a recipe for disaster. Mike's tragic decisions with dogfighting weren't surprising. Sad, but not shocking. Yet to me, he stands out as someone trying very hard to redeem himself. And let's face it, the man is incredibly talented. Try as I might, to sign on as an Eagles fan, I'm having difficulty doing it. Perhaps if they were playing better these last few games it would be easier. But hey, I guess that statement alone shows I am not a true fan. True fans will fight someone over speaking badly over their team, even if their team is down in the dumps in performance. I'll keep looking for my team.Fourth, and finally, I can tell you who I don't like. I'm not a fan of Romo. He, and his cowboys, can go on home. I'm not a fan of Rothlisberger, although Soccer Chick is a die-hard Steelers fan (how did she do that exactly???). And anything Manning rubs me the wrong way.
So what are my choices, friends? Eagles, Ravens, Packers and definitely not Cowboys or Steelers. Well, that's funny to me. Because we're supposed to grab ahold of a team and declare our unwavering loyalty, but these guys switch teams all the time. Why can't we? Why can't I like a guy instead of a whole team? I mean, if your favorite player leaves a team, you still like the team, right? Strangeness. My head was spinning yesterday listening to Oldest and the Hub talk about who used to play for them, but now plays for them, and soon will play for the other thems. My goodness, who can keep up? I think I might be better suited to sit on the sidelines of nobody. I think I'm safer being a fan of individual players, rather than swearing my face-paint to one specific color code. I'm fascinated by people and personalities. I'm making my judgments of an entire team based on the behavior of a few players I like and don't like. Makes complete sense to me. But then, I'm the one with no team to swear my allegiance to. Everyone else has one.
Still haven't quite figured out how people do that exactly. At what point in life is your team determined? Puzzling. I certainly missed my window of opportunity during my youth. I can't say I knew what downs and pass interference was until Oldest was in high school. Sad, I know. It's confession I told you. Appreciate my honesty, and understand that I'm working towards a goal here. One day...have a "team".
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