Does anybody hear her?

This post was inspired by a couple of comments I received from a dear sister, "Corleone," on my last post. Here is a portion of her comment:

I know that the Bible speaks of a God of love and understanding...In 1 John, the Bible tells us that "God is love"..In Romans 5, it tells us that "while we were still sinners He died for us" -- that he loved us that much to die for us while we were sinners. Pslams tells us that "He puts our tears in a bottle"...It sounds wonderful; and i only wish I could believe and feel these promises the way you do. Knowing the verses; knowing the talk doesn't help the emptiness of your soul when its all for show and you feel empty and alone -- I hate the feeling like I'm the only one in church not getting god...I wonder is everyone faking?

It is clear by "Corleone's" post that she knows the Bible and she is in church. She is not some random person who stumbled upon my blog and has a bone to pick with "Christianity." (Lord knows I get a few of those from time to time) "Corleone" sits next to us in church, she sings with us, she prays with us, she laughs with us, and yet, she's dying inside. Dying to know if God is real. Dying to know if He keeps His promises. Dying to know if He is attentive to the suffering in the world. Dying to know if He has time for her problems in the midst of "bigger problems." Dying to know why some are so "blessed" and others are not. Dying to know if she's the only one who feels like she's wearing a mask, sometimes caught up in the "pretender game." Dying to know what it takes to "get God."

Can you help our sister? Do you have a word for her? I bet you do because truth be told, we've all been "Corleone" at some point. I know I have. For some reason, God prompted my heart to post this Casting Crowns video along with this post. I know you're busy today, but will you take a minute to play it? Grab a tissue and let's have ourselves a little church service here in Blogland, shall we?





At one point, I was the girl in this video. I know what it's like to wonder, "Does anybody hear her? Does anybody see? ...Under the shadow of our steeple, with all the lost and lonely people...searching for the hope that's tucked away in you and me." Oh, that our churches and our people would be mindful of the suffering that goes on in the hearts of those nearby...sometimes, in the pew right next to us. Give us eyes to see, Lord...beginning with me.

Thank you, Corleone, for your brave comments. And from the bottom of my heart, thank you for reminding me of the mission of my calling. Cry out to Him, Corleone. He is there. He hears you. He cares. I noticed in your comments that you use the phrase "your god" rather than "my God." What hinders you from calling Him "my God?" I ask you that with all sincerity, as I feel that answering that question is a critical step in "getting God."

I have fallen head-over-heels for a pair of designer jeans

What is it with me and jeans? Seriously. After my little mis-hap from last week with my painted-on jeans, I finally broke down and bought a new pair. I know, I know. The original plan was for me to drop a quick five-ish pounds, so the jeans in my closet would pass the virtue test once again. Last thing I want is to become the very woman I rant about in my hoochie-mama post. So, with the best of intentions, I headed out for the grocery store last week and stocked up on Lean Cuisine's. For extra credit, I put Dr. Oz's book, "You On A Diet" on my nightstand. It's been in the Amazon shrink wrap since I ordered it on a whim several months ago when he talked about it on Oprah. I have no intention of ever taking it out of the box--I mean seriously, who needs that kind of guilt?

So anyway, I was doing great. Toasted bagel for breakfast. Lean Cuisine for lunch. Eight almonds for a mid-afternoon snack. And whatever the family was having for dinner. No snacking after 6 p.m. This drill lasted for all of TWO DAYS. On DAY THREE, a charming little Girl Scout had the nerve to show up on my doorstep with her wagon full of Caramel Delights, Lemonades, Thin Mints, Peanut Butter Patties, and the new Cinna-Spins. And yes, I did the only thing a virtuous-woman-in-the-making knows to do. I extended my hand to the needy (Proverbs 31:20). It's the right thing to do. So, for the sake of helping the needy and contributing to a good cause, forget Lean Cuisine. That's when I decided to opt for bigger jeans. Or at least one pair to tide me over until I could polish off the box of Caramel Delights and start my diet...again. Seriously, have you had one of these things? I'm pretty sure when you get to Heaven, they'll be serving these babies on silver trays right when you walk through the Pearly Gates. With Starbucks. All you can eat. And no calories.

That evening, after eating dinner out with my daughter at La Madeleine's, we headed over to the T.J. Maxx next door. This has become a fun little bi-monthly tradition for us--bonding over two of our favorite activities. My daughter headed straight to the designer jean section and plucked a pair of "Joe's Jeans" (I don't expect you to know what this means unless you are under 30 or have a teenage daughter) off the rack. "Mom, these are in your size. You should try them on." All I saw was a cute pair of jeans with a drawstring waist. Minutes later, I am modeling them for my daughter in the dressing room and she offers this brief fashion commentary: "Those make you look cool...and skinny." That's all I needed to hear to voila, I was at the check-out. You can't pass up a pair of jeans that offers both "cool" and "skinny." I'd get a bank loan if need be. Forget that they are four inches too long and this Joe fella designed them to fit Gisele Bundchen and the eight other supermodels in the world. My daughter offered a simple solution: "just flip up the cuff." I had no idea being cool was this easy. And dangerous. This is where the story takes a drastic turn.

I wore these "cool" jeans to church on Sunday and felt oh-so-cool. Hubby had to stay after for a meeting and the little one went home with a friend. Paige and I picked up Schlotzsky's on the way home, which is further proof that I am well on my way to being the virtuous woman of Proverbs 31--just doing my part to "bring in food from afar." (Prov. 31:14) And then it happened. I was five feet from the front door of my house and my heel got caught in the cuff of my new, cool jeans. I won't go into detail on the extent of my injuries, but here is a summary of the damage: A slightly swollen left knee, a small cut on my upper lip, a bruised ego, a spilled purse, and two Schlotzsky's sandwiches smashed flat as pancakes. My daughter was sweet enough to offer help before texting her friends about it. She knew better than to take a picture. Or laugh...she had the decency to wait until I crawled into the foyer and cued her with my own laughter. I just couldn't help it when I saw the Schlotzsky's bag smashed flat on the porch and my shoes fifteen feet away from the scene of the accident.

And yes, I'm still milking it for all it's worth, around here. Last night, I called Hubby on my cell phone (I was upstairs writing and he was downstairs) and asked him to bring me a glass of milk and a couple of Caramel Delights. On the road to healing...

Reminder to self: Get new jeans hemmed.

Update to Clearasil post below

Yikes, I meant to include the information for contacting the company in the post below, but it won't allow me to add it since I posted it straight from YouTube.

After watching the Clearasil ad below, will you take a minute to let the company know what you think? Remember, there's power in numbers when parents unite and demand virtue!

Clearasil gets a make-over

Other than the fact that Clearasil is notorious for not clearing up acne, their new raunchy ad campaign is reason enough to zap the zit-zapper off our list.

What really infuriates me is that one of their racy ads just aired today during a Full House rerun on ABC's Family channel! (I have a sick one at home who still tunes in to this classic, on occasion. And let me just say that it was nice to see the Olsen twins without a cigarette, for a change.)

The ad above is one of three ads in Clearasil's new "may cause confidence" campaign. Another ad features a teen boy hitting on his friend's mother in the kitchen. Yet another ad, features a male student standing up at the beginning of class and telling his professor to feel free to "picture me naked." He then turns to a female student seated next to him and says, "You, too."

Seeing as though most teens are still on their parents' payroll, you would think that Clearasil would be mindful of offending those with the real purchasing power.

A new spin on rearranging that sock drawer

I am so mad at Amanda for coming up with this exciting post on her mama's blog. She was reminiscing about past "Titus 2" advice she has received and invited women to comment and share their best ever Titus advice (given or received). So, I'm mad because I have this book deadline breathing down my neck and I end up camped out on the comments page for a good 30 minutes reading all the great advice!

Okay, seriously--I could never be mad at sweet Amanda, but it got me thinking about a time when I attended a women's event many years ago. One of the speakers did a break-out session on what it was to be a "Titus 2/Godly wife." I came home from the event feeling like absolute pond scum (a mix of true conviction and some false guilt). I burst into tears to my husband, and began to detail a list of all the things I was supposed to be doing to meet "Titus 2/Godly wife" status. And I ended the sob-fest with, "And the speaker said that we should be organizing our husband's sock drawers according to color...and here our stupid socks are in a pile on the floor at the end of our bed! I'm such a horrible wife!"

To which my sweet husband quickly replied:

"Honey, forget about that advice. There's only one drawer I want you to worry about and that's your lingerie drawer."

Hah! And here we are a good 12ish years later from that event and our socks our still in a big ol' pile at the end of our bed...but my lingerie drawer is in good order! ☺

It appears I have a jeanetic flaw

Today's post borders on tmi (too much information) and therefore, is only for a select audience. Now, to find out if you qualify for the "select audience," I have a little quiz for you:

1. When filling out paper work, you mark which of the following choices below to precede your surname:

a) Mrs.
b) Mr.
c) Miss
d) Ms.

2. Let's say you drink a gallon of iced tea and nature calls. You proceed (quickly) to the nearest restroom facility and upon reaching the toilet, you:

a) take a seat
b) remain standing
c) neither, you are a camel

Okay, so if you marked "b" on one or more of the above questions, click off this page at once. Skidaddle. Vamoose. All three of you. Now, I happen to know a few men do visit this blog on occasion as they have confessed it to me in the past. Of course, as I mentioned in my last post, apparently my husband is not one of them, since he asked me how to get to my "blog thing" the other day. Now, don't misunderstand me. It's not that I don't appreciate your readership---I'm trying to protect you. Today's post is loaded with estrogen and written to garner a little sympathy from those who understand estrogen-related topics all too well. So ba-bye. Tell you what...here is a little going away gift.

Okay sisters, now for the jeanetic flaw. Later today, I have to leave my writing cave (aka: home) to venture into public. That said, my write-around-the-clock-to-meet-a-March-1st-deadline standard uniform of jammie pants and a sweatshirt just won't cut it, so this morning, I plucked my favorite pair of jeans off the shelf and went to put them on. I will not go into detail about the wrestling match that ensued, but suffice it to say that it ended with me doing 20 deep knee bends. That was after I laid flat on the bed and took a breath so deep, I'm pretty sure I cut off oxygen to my brain, which may explain any typos in this post or odd behavior hereafter. But alas, I got them zipped and buttoned. And the result? I think we refer to this as "painted-on jeans." Let's just say these babies are so tight you can see the date on a dime in my back pocket. And no, there will not be a picture with this post.

While I would love to believe that these jeans perhaps, shrunk, I fear the more likely cause would be the mass amounts of Christmas goodies consumed over the holidays. Seriously, does my Publisher hate me? What's up with sending me a bucket of "Tennessee Tea Cakes" and a giant chocolate basket? I hear that diet books are hot sellers--are they hoping I'll write one? I'm pretty sure these extra pounds are punishment for hiding the peppermint bark from my children so I could have it all to myself. And have it, I do--it's sitting on my thighs as we speak, trapped in a denim prison.

Which brings me to my dilemma. I need to either a) get some new jeans or b) lose a quick 5 lbs. Now, you know I love to shop for new clothes, but somehow, shopping for new "bigger" clothes just isn't as exciting. And while I'm on the topic of blue jean shopping, am I the only one who plucks jeans from the rack in my size and after holding them up for a quick inspection of the backside, I confidently assure myself that any bottom that won't fit into that denim kangaroo pouch shouldn't be allowed to wear jeans? Of course, you know the rest of the story. Once you try to wrestle them on in the dressing room, you mouth to your reflection in the mirror, "Oh mah gosh."

One of the errands on my list today was stopping by the local LifeWay store. They always ask me for my phone number at the check out and then figure out that I'm that Vicki Courtney....the one who writes books--mind you, many with the word "virtue" in the title. And on that note, I better run. I have more deep knee bends to do before hitting the LifeWay store. But just in case my jeans don't stretch enough to put them in the virtue category, I do have a back-up plan. I'm giving them Lisa Whelchel's home # when they ask. ☺

A memorable weekend and a chapter closed

Good daddies go to cheer competitions!

Mirror, mirror...

The girls issue a challenge to the parents

Hah! Challenge met!

Challenge met, again!

Sometimes, she still...

...seems 10 years old

A great ending to this chapter

This past weekend, my daughter's Varsity Cheer squad competed in Galveston at a national cheer competition. Hubby and I were there to watch our daughter's last and final-ever cheer competition. Heavy sigh. Now, I know there are bunches of you out there who struggle to understand this obsession with cheerleading that is all too common in the southern states. And yes, just to catch you up to speed, cheerleading is now offically a sport. (Ahem, cough, cough, Paige's brothers). I'm a bit defensive when it comes to this topic because cheerleading was in fact, my sport. Yeah, and judging by the picture above, I've still got it... (Seriously, it's amazing what you'll do on a dare, even in your adult years). And yes, I was a tad sore this morning, in case you're wondering. And I noticed hubby was limping earlier, not to mention, he keeps arguing about "who got more air." While there, we were also able to enjoy the Aquarium at Moody Gardens, which I highly recommend if you ever make your way to Galveston.

Anyway, we went into the competition as the reigning 1st place champs from last year's competition, so the pressure was on. Not to mention, it would be the last competition for our senior girls, my own daughter included. For her sake, I wanted to end this chapter with a bang and that we did! They WON first place out of ten teams in their category! Woo-hoo!

What's weird is that it didn't hit me until right after she performed, that this was the last time she would ever compete. Blah. No more weekend trips with other fun cheer families. No more sitting in the stands and "cheering on the cheerleader." No more holding my breath while they throw my baby girl sky high. No more paying $70/couple to watch her perform twice for four minutes each time. (Okay, so maybe I won't miss the last two...) But alas, another chapter comes to a close.

I've gotten quite a few emails in the past from moms who have daughters who say they want to be a cheerleader when they grow up and wonder if it's possible to participate in competitive cheerleading and still love Jesus. I'm planning a post in the near future about my own experience/struggle and sometimes, love/hate relationship with the world of competitive cheerleading, so stay tuned. ☺


Update: I just had to share this. This post has been up a few hours and I was kinda talking smack to hubby a few minutes ago and reading him some of the comments coming in stating the obvious--I got more air! Here is his response: "Tell me--how do I get to your blog thing, again?" I don't know what's funnier: The fact that he's so competitive that he might pay a visit to argue the title or that he doesn't know how to get to my blog!

Alberto Vo5--Not your grandma's hairspray

Virtue alert: This ad ran in the October issue of Seventeen magazine. It was a two-page ad and the first picture (not shown) was of the same two teens looking kempt and composed as the elevator doors closed on the first floor. The photo above is of the second picture in the ad with the elevator doors opening on the tenth floor and the same two teens looking, well, not so kempt and composed. In case you can't read the caption, it says, “Product may require reapplication after vigorous activity.”

I paid a little visit to their website where they offer beauty tips on how to obtain "virtual hotness" and an invite to enter the "ultimate flirting championship tournament where the sexy win big." But, I must say, my favorite part was being greeted with a welcome banner at the top of the site that said, "Congratulations, hot stuff." Wow, I haven't been called that in awhile. I may go back a few more times for that perk alone. Call it a hunch, but I think they are trying to move away from their market demographic of perfectly coiffed grandma's.

What's next, Aqua Net?

The bribery (Part One)

Ho-hum. Where did I go wrong? My husband and I have done our best to raise our boys to be well-mannered Southern gentlemen. You know, the ones who much to the ire of feminists, race to open doors for women of all ages and allow them to pass through first, surrender their seats in waiting areas for women and children, keep an eye out for women and senior citizens who when traveling, struggle to get their bags in the overhead bin (a particularly ouchy topic for me after logging so many travel hours and being said woman), and so on. I think you get the picture.

Yesterday, I was writing away on the culture's attitudes about dating for my new book and feeling disturbed that many of our Christian youth have conformed to the culture's mindset. Now, let me just state that I am all for "hanging out in groups" in the middle and high school years. In fact, I encouraged it with my own children and we even added a gameroom onto our house to provide a safe "hang-out" place. I don't personally feel that our teens are ready to tackle the responsibility of being in a serious "dating" relationship that often ushers in physical temptations, emotional trauma (and drama), and so forth. And I have been fortunate that thus far, my kids have not given me much flack over it. My older two teens (19 1/2 and 17 1/2) did not "date" someone until late into their senior year of high school (a recent occurrence in our home for our daughter). At that point, my husband and I reasoned that it might not be a bad thing for them to enter this phase while still being under our roof. Anyway, I know this is a controversial topic and there are some Christian parents whose teens have "dated" at a younger age and Mom and Dad have done a fine job of drawing boundaries and being engaged in the process. And then there are other Christian parents who feel strongly that their kids should not date until they are like, 25-30, or ever for that matter. To each his own and the important thing is that we are looking to the Lord for guidance on what's best for our children, in particular. (Perhaps this topic would make a good post for another day.)

I share this background for the sake of revealing a downside to this "hang-out-with-your-friends" model that many Christian parents have endorsed in their homes (including myself). As I was researching for my book, I began to see evidence of a trend where dating is all but extinct on college campuses, having instead been replaced by "hanging-out" or "hooking-up." I have written on this in the past in my "Your Girl" book and grieved that many of our daughters will fail to experience the excitement of an old fashioned "date." You know the kind where the boy works up his nerve to call, drives over to pick-up his date, takes his date out to dinner/movie and actually picks up the tab, and then politely drops his date off at her doorstep with no expectation of anything further. I can dream, right? Which brings me to my story-at-hand. As I was was once again examining this trend, it dawned on me that I now have a college boy. And all of a sudden, I realized that I don't recall college boy mentioning one, single little date during his 1 and 1/2 years at Auburn. So, I picked up the phone and called college boy. Here, is a sampling of our conversation:

College boy: (seeing my # on his phone) "Hey, Mom."

Mom: "Hey, Son!"

College boy: "What's up?"

Mom: "Oh, I was just writing about something in my book that I find disturbing and I wanted to ask you something."

College boy: "Okay, shoot."

Mom: "So, is dating dead on college campuses?"

College boy: "Uh no, I don't think so."

Mom: "Really? Cuz I'm reading that most everyone just "hangs out" or "hooks up."

College boy: "Yeah, people pretty much do that."

Mom: "Okay, so let me ask you this: Have you been on any dates?"

College boy: "Uh, no, I guess not. (hemming and hawing ensues) "I mean, the thing to do, ya know, is just hang out."

Mom: "Hmmm....So, let me ask you this: Let's say you are hanging out with your "group" (darling group, by the way, of Jesus-loving kids) and you meet a girl in the "group" and you think, 'Wow, I might want to get to know her better.' So, what do you do?"

College boy: "Uh, well I had that happen with one girl, so I just texted her later to see if she wanted to 'hang-out' and just come over and watch The Office, or something."

Mom: (beginning to hyperventilate) "Wait a minute. Let me get this straight: You asked her to get in her car and drive over to your apartment to watch an episode of The Office? And then, at the end of the evening, she got into her car and drove her little self home (insert sarcastic tone, here)?"

College boy: "Yeah, pretty much."

Mom: (praying out loud) "Lord Jesus, where did I go wrong?" (to son): "And at what point in the process do you ask her out on a real-live date?"

College boy: "I don't know. Nobody really expects that."

Mom: (blood pressure rising) "What? Are you kidding me?" (Mom proceeds to launch into tirade where she grumbles about 'Christian girls letting Christian boys off the hook' and 'male chivalry being near extinction.' College boy responds by laughing.)

And so, how exactly did our conversation end? I can't even believe I'm about to confess this to you. I actually bribed my son and offered to foot the bill for a steak dinner for two if he would ask a girl out in the next two weeks. Stay tuned and I will post the outcome. (He knows this and laughed further, when I told him). When I hung up, it hit me that his Dad and I had somehow, failed to address the topic of when it's appropriate to "hang-out" and when it's appropriate to "ask someone out." Sigh.

What really disturbs me is that when I talk to Christian girls about this, they say it's a huge catch-22. If they raise the bar higher and "expect" a boy to "ask them out" to get to know them, often, the boy just moves on because there are plenty of girls who don't require such effort. Remember my own son's quote? "Nobody really expects that."

So, what do you think? Have Christian parents gotten so carried away with this whole "hang-out-in-groups" model that we lend to the problem when our kids carry it with them to their college years and beyond? Have we let our Christian boys off the hook by not expecting more of them? Do we go ahead and tell our daughters to "raise the bar" and wait for the rare boy whose mama raised him right (or bribed him with a steak dinner)? And if you happen to be the mother of the girl who my son asked to "hang-out" and come over and watch The Office, let me take this opportunity to apologize. And please, please, tell your daughter to politely decline should my son call and issue another "hang-out" invitation. Who knows, maybe he'll call with a better offer...

NOTE: If you read the comments, you will find some valuable insight regarding this topic from some of our Christian young women who find themselves "caught in the middle." Please consider forwarding this post onto Christian college and/or young single women you may know. I would love for them to weigh in and answer some of the questions I posed at the end of the post.

Allow me to introduce you to a friend of mine...

Wow! Two posts in one day--this might be a record for me. I have been writing from sun-up to sun-down to get this manuscript in by March 1st, and blogging has been such a welcome reprieve when I don't think I can type another word! Trust me, I have NO social life right now, so you are it, my friends! I cannot wait until I have more time (ahem, that would be March 2nd and beyond) to visit some of the wonderful blogs you ladies have in blog-o-sphere. Goodness, after glancing over some of them, it appears many of YOU need to be writing books!

Anyway, I'm rambling. My purpose for this post is to introduce you to my friend AND the worship leader for the 2008 You and Your Girl events. Woo-hoo! Let's give it up for Lindsey Kane! (Btw, she has no idea I am doing this--I lifted these pics straight from her Facebook album!)

If you have not had an opportunity to hear Lindsey's music, oh my, you must check it out. Lindsey is relevant to both moms and girls of all ages, which makes her a perfect choice for this event. We served together at several events last year and I just fell in love with her and her heart for the Lord. She is such a fine role model for our girls. And she is a nutcase--in a good way, of course! Check back in the weeks to come--we are cooking up a little video surprise to promote our up and coming events! First stop, April 19th in Fredericksburg, VA!

Have you ever done a DVD Bible study?

If so, I could really use your help! I have a meeting coming up next month with my publisher (LifeWay) to discuss "ideas" for the DVD portion of the "5 Conversations You Must Have With Your Daughter" Bible study. (Note: This is an adaptation of the book I am currently writing. The book will release in September, '08 and then a 6-8 week Bible study curriculum with member book and DVD sessions for group study will follow in April, '09.) I am supposed to come to this meeting ready to brainstorm about possible location, set-up, creative programming elements, etc...for the DVD sessions. I will be teaching the sessions (each will be 15-20ish minutes long) and the target audience for this study will be moms of girls (not the girls). The goal is to provide a study that will spur moms on to have some necessary conversations with their daughters. My "Your Girl" study was geared to a more narrow audience of moms of teen girls, while this one is geared to moms of girls ranging in age from 0-18. I love the thought that moms of little girls, tween girls, and teen girls would all be together, lending support to one another. (Titus 2:4 in action!)

So, if you have ever participated in a women's DVD-type Bible study, put your thinking cap on and send me your awesome ideas! The last DVD study I did (Your Girl), was just little ol' me in front of a green screen talking away to my "fake audience" and two male camera men. Sigh. I have to tell you, it was mighty hard not seeing any reassuring faces of real-live moms/women. So, I'm kind of thinking a live audience would be good, this go round. But, one thing to factor into the equation is that it's mighty hard to draw a really big crowd for these tapings since the audience has to commit to two days in a row for several hours/day. That is, unless you're that Beth Moore gal and I'm pretty sure she could talk about nothing more than hair care tips and fill an entire arena with ten minutes notice! (Let me know if you hear she's gonna do that--I'm so there!)

So, what are you picturing? Is it in a church or a more informal setting? (Your living room perhaps?!!) I was also kind of picturing some outtakes of moms and girls (all ages) sprinkled throughout, candidly sharing their own struggles pertaining to the topics discussed each session. But, that's as far as I've gotten in the brain-storming process. Since many of you are part of the audience we are aiming to reach, what would you like to see?

Water with lemon, anyone?

This post is inspired by fellow blogger buddy, "Crownlaiddown" who suggested in her comment on my last post that I share more about "setting aside (money) for such a dream" (our lake house). Now, what's funny about her suggestion is that I had just told my hubby over a dinner date last night that I was going to blog from time to time about some of his money-saving frugalities that have become a way of life in our home. Key word here: "his." For quite some time now, I have joked (half seriously), that my sweet husband is the one who needs to be writing the books. He has done an amazing job at leading our family and I just can't brag on him enough.

He would be embarrassed if he knew I was posting his bio for all to see, but let me give you a brief rundown on him. He has taught Sunday School (adult dept.) for the past 20 years and currently serves on our Church Council. He led a men's group several years ago that started at IHOP with 3-4 men (who asked to be mentored). They eventually outgrew their booth and moved into a banquet room with 16+ men. The group today has morphed into a "Journey to Manhood" group of 50-70 men who meet weekly at our church. Most importantly, Keith has actively discipled both our boys over the years with age-appropriate material that aids in training them to be future godly husbands and fathers, as well as responsible members of society. As I write this, he is tucking in our 14 year-old and taking him through a Josh McDowell book on Christian worldview. Perhaps in future posts, I will list the materials/books/resources he has used with our boys and share in more detail other ways he has trained our children (finances, chores, life skills, etc...) Which also begs the question: What in the world am I contributing to this family?! I can't even get the Yorkies potty-trained!

And for the record, his "frugalities" used to really get under my skin in the earlier years of our marriage and cause many a spar in our home. I would get frustrated when my friends would get new cars, boats, bigger houses, stuff for their kids, you-fill-in-the-blank, and I would harass him about his unwillingness to charge more than we could pay off at the end of the month. "But honey, evreeeeeeeeeyone does it!" Bless his heart--I have been such a challenge. He calls our marriage "the great adventure" and praise the Lord, he smiles when he says it. I share this to give you hope that after twenty years of marriage, we are still as different as night and day, but we've learned the art of "meeting in the middle." Which means he doesn't harass me about my affinity for Starbucks Grande Vanilla Lattes. Or my love affair with shoes. Or my long-standing highlight appointments. Or an occasional manicure. Yeah, you get the picture.

So, that said, here are a few money saving tips dear to my hubby's heart:

*Never order soft drinks at restaurants. (Seriously, unless it's your birthday, you ain't gettin' a stinkin' softdrink in this family!) Keith even taught our kids to make lemonade back when they were in booster chairs and now at age 14, 17, and 19, they have the drill down! Waiter: "What can I get you to drink, hon?" My kids: "Uh, I'll take water with lemon." Recipe: Glass of water, 1-2 sweet-n-low's, 2-3 lemon wedges, and ta-dum, lemonade) Savings for a family of five: $10/per meal.

*Take a sack lunch to work. Keith has done this for the last 20 years and figured it is a savings of about $160-200/month or better yet, approximately $43,000 over the last 20 years.

*Buy used cars with low mileage vs. brand new. Currently, 3 of our 4 cars are paid off and have over 100k miles on them. Savings over 20 years from buying pre-owned cars vs. the same make/model new edition: Over $50,000.

*Keep driving your cars long after they're paid off. Years ago, Keith even drove one of our cars (Nissan Stanza) to his law firm with the side mirror duct-taped on (I accidentally backed into it with my car). He proudly parked it right next to his coworkers' fancy cars. When they teased him about it, he would just smile and say, "The nicest car you can drive, is the one you own." Savings over 20 years from driving our cars approximately 24-36 mos. after they're paid off minus repairs and maintenance: somewhere in the range of $40,000.

Keith's fairly simple equation for when you get your paycheck:

1. Pay God first. (10% or more tithe)
2. Pay yourself next. (suggested 10% or more into savings)
3. With what's left, don't spend more than you make. (We have one credit card and we pay it off every month)

And let me add that I know of plenty marriages where the wife is the frugal one and takes charge of the finances. It's great if both parties possess the frugal gene (yes, I'm convinced you're either born with it or not), but all you need is one in each family and the other one lending support. Now, I would love to know what you do to cut corners. I'm not so sure I'll show the list to Keith, but I know there are plenty of others who would appreciate the wisdom!

A “simply” delightful day

I am attempting to upload this post from the front lawn of my lake house and I swear, if you could see me, you would never stop laughing. I am truly a desperate woman. Remember my New Year’s resolution that boiled down to a quest for simplicity? Well, one of the things I love about coming out to this lake house (an hour drive from home) is that it falls into the simplicity category. We scrimped and saved for years to buy it and the bottom line is that when we did, there was no money left over for much of anything to put in it. And truth be told, I like it that way. No phone, no clutter, no junk mail piles, no pantry full of food, no bathroom cabinets filled with toiletry items you’ve accumulated over the years, very few pieces of furniture to dust, little in general to upkeep, and best of all, no Internet.

Well, except for an occasional spotty connection from my front lawn, which is where I am right now. To find it, I must slowly traverse my front yard with my laptop extended out in front of me, aiming it at each of my neighbor’s homes until I get one little bar of a signal. I figure it’s kind of like borrowing a cup of sugar, except I’m not about to go door-to-door and say, “Hi, I’m your wacky new neighbor and would it be okay if I park myself in your living room for a few minutes and borrow your Internet signal?” Not happening. Of course, it could be argued that I look pretty foolish right now, but let’s not go there. The second I get one bar of connectivity, I’ll stop breathing, balance on one leg, and flap my arms like a goose if I have to in order to upload this post. So, if you are in fact reading this post, we have my neighbors to thank—I'm just not sure which ones.

I had to leave my house this morning at 6:40 am to get here in time to meet a flooring crew because we are getting stained concrete floors downstairs. We incurred flood damage during the infamous Marble Falls flood that made national news back in June. Our house is on Lake LBJ which is normally a constant level lake. However, it rained something like 18 inches in six hours and even though the lake did rise (almost high enough to carry off our boat from the lift), the damage we got was from rain filling up the gutters so fast. It poured rainwater back into the walls of the house and destroyed the edges of our downstairs carpet—-which was just a year-old. Not that I'm wasting any tears over it. I didn’t really want carpet downstairs in the first place, since it’s a lake house and lake houses tend to get wet. When we bought the house a couple years ago, it had nasty blue shag carpet and we replaced it with a cheap, low-grade carpet. I wanted something simpler and easy to care for like Pergo or stone floors, but simpler at the time, was not cheaper and cheaper just so happens to be hubby’s favorite word. Not that I’m complaining—were it not for his penny-pinching ways over the last 20 years, we wouldn’t have this house. ☺

And speaking of simpler, things are just simpler around here in Kingsland, Texas. I wonder if the folks who live here full-time appreciate that. After I let the crew in, I went down the road to Sweet Things Bakery and picked up a box of apple fritters and cinnamon rolls made fresh from scratch. Whenever I go in there, I see the same familiar kind faces and they always call me “honey” and “sweetie” when taking my order. I love that. Once back home, I gave the box of goodies to the crew and took one-half of an apple fritter for myself and went upstairs to write. It was all I could do to resist taking a whole apple fritter. You wouldn’t believe how good these things are. And seriously, if I succumbed and took one, I may as well take another and just tape one to each of my thighs. Same effect.

Oh, and get this. When I got here this morning, I discovered that they had drained the lake down about five or so feet. Apparently, they do this every few years so folks can have work done on their lifts if need be. I have pictures but no way to load them so I may post them later. It’s weird seeing our boat lift with no water under it and just a trickle of a stream in the cove. I also discovered four duck eggs under our paddleboat that’s propped against the lift. I posted about some duck eggs I found in our ivy bed this past summer, but they mysteriously disappeared a couple weeks later. I wonder if it’s too late for ducklings? Any of my blogging country friends know?

Anyway, I love this place…and better yet, the slow pace. This evening, I’m going to keep writing and then drive into Marble Falls (about ten miles away) for a real treat at Bluebonnet Café: chicken fried steak, buttery corn-on-the-cob, fried okra, and homemade coconut cream pie for dessert. And guess what? I’m going to recognize my waitress and she’s going to call me “sweetie.” I can almost guarantee it. I love small towns. So, here’s to Kingsland and all the other small towns in the US who know what it is to live the simple life. And if you’re from one, remember this post the next time you get frustrated because there’s not a Super Walmart down the road.

A new reality show: Starring...your child?

As some of you may know, I have authored a book called "Logged On and Tuned Out: A non-techie's guide to parenting a tech-savvy generation." That said, very little surprises me when it comes to new technology...until now, that is. Monday morning, I dropped my college boy off at the airport to return to college, 800+ miles away. Like a good mom, I checked in to make sure he made each leg of his flight and spoke to him off and on while he made the two hour drive back to campus. By my calculations, Ryan was due to arrive at his apartment between 6-6:30 p.m. At about ten minutes after six, my youngest son who had been IMing with Ryan's roommate, Lee, came downstairs and said, "Mom, log onto your Facebook and go to Lee's page." Lee is a fine Christian young man (and a preacher's boy) who is extremely progressive when it comes to technology. Upon going to his page (I am only able to do this because we are Facebook friends), I discovered that he added an application that allows live, streaming video to be broadcast straight to his page. Let me break this down for you in lingo that is easier to understand: Lee has the ability to broadcast his own reality show whenever he chooses, starring Lee and whomever happens to pass by his laptop when his internal webcam is activated. I know, scary thought with far-reaching implications for those who may choose to use it for evil. Let this post serve as yet another wake-up call to parents with tweens and teens that we must be diligent in staying tuned into our kids' logged on lives.

When I joined the viewing audience on Lee's "show," I was in the company of five other viewers. Lee was explaining to his viewing audience that Ryan was due to walk through the door in about ten minutes and the plan was to welcome him home by shooting him with a new airsoft gun he received for Christmas. Now, let me just stop and interject that if you don't have (or have not at some point had) teenage boys, it might be hard for you to relate to this rest of this story. Lee continued to chat back and forth with his audience as he aimed his laptop webcam at the front door. When my younger son informed him that I was also watching, he began to beg me (on camera) not to call Ryan and disclose the plan. Concerned that Ryan was not wearing safety goggles, I agreed provided that Lee would shoot only at his ankles. (Again, unless you have teen boys, the logic behind that last statement might be a bit hard to understand, but please withhold judgment.)

Minutes later, my boy entered his apartment to a welcome spray of airsoft pellets. Within seconds, the battle was over and Lee informed Ryan that he was "live on the webcam" and his Mom was even watching. My poor, defenseless lad staggered over to the laptop and proceeded to show me a welp on his arm. "Mom, look at what Lee did to me. Can you believe this?" He was smiling through his pain and all I could do is shake my head back and forth in utter amazement. Utter amazement that this sort of technology exists and the implications thereof. Utter amazement that a mother could see her precious boy on live camera over 800 miles away in his natural habitat. Utter amazement (and a bit of joy) that he still needs good ol' Mom to tend to his wounds. And finally, utter amazement that boys like this are our future. They will grow up (soon?) to be responsible members of society, loving husbands, and doting fathers. And on that note, I think I'll go pack up Ryan's plastic athletic cup from his baseball days and send it his way just to be on the safe side. I want grandkids, someday. ☺

Hot off the press...

NEW YORK, NY--(Marketwire - January 8, 2008) - Nearly 750,000 teen girls get pregnant in the U.S. each year. To address this crisis, Seventeen magazine partnered with The Candie's Foundation, whose mission is to educate America's youth about the devastating consequences of teen pregnancy, to survey 500 girls ages 13-18 on why teen girls are getting pregnant and how to prevent it.

Some of the surprising results featured in the February 2008 issue (on newsstands January 8) include:

-- Nearly 50% of teen girls think it might be possible they'll become
pregnant in the next 5 years.
-- 70% of teen girls say if guys played more of a role in using birth
control, it would help prevent unplanned pregnancy.
-- 67% of teen girls have friends who are or became pregnant as
teenagers.
-- 2 out of 3 teen girls are more worried about STDs than an unplanned
pregnancy.

"Sex and sexuality is confusing when you're a teen," says Seventeen Editor in Chief Ann Shoket. "It's our mission to give girls the information to make the smartest decisions so they can protect their bodies and their dreams for the future."

Neil Cole, Founder, The Candie's Foundation, stated, "It is unacceptable that approximately 750,000 teenagers will have babies this year in the U.S. Teens need to know and understand that pregnancy has incredibly devastating consequences. The Candie's Foundation, with the help of Seventeen Magazine, will inform America's youth about this epidemic."

Hmmm, I wonder if they will own up to the fact that they have contributed to the problem by printing their fair share of hook-up themed articles, encouraging girls to exercise their sexual freedom as part of the warped "girl power" movement. Anyone want to join me in predicting what advice they will give girls who find out they are pregnant, so they can "protect their dreams for the future?" I think the stats that caught me most off guard were that "67% of teen girls have friends who are or became pregnant as teenagers" and that "nearly 50% of teen girls think it might be possible they'll become pregnant in the next 5 years."

As part of my research for my book, "5 Conversations You Must Have With Your Daughter," I camped out for a few days on www.afterabortion.com and read the heart-wrenching comments posted by women of all ages who opted for abortion. I DO NOT recommend that you go there if you have an abortion in your past and have not yet experienced the healing grace of Christ. However, I shared some of the tearful comments submitted by teenage girls with my own daughter (age 17) and mentioned that should she ever have a friend who confides that she is pregnant (likely has already), to please, please route her to the site if she is considering abortion...or better yet, send her to me.

I can almost guarantee that Seventeen magazine will only give out information related to birth control or abortion access providers in the article and we won't hear a peep from them about the sadness and depression commonly experienced after abortion...oftentimes, surfacing years down the road. If they are truly concerned with the well-being of the young ladies they reach, they need to print a sampling of the comments from the afterabortion.com site and address some of the reasons behind many of the regrets expressed (not being knowledgeable at the time about fetal development, the possibility of Post Abortion Stress Disorder, triggery events where the pain surfaces unexpectedly, the likelihood that they will forever think about the child they "might-have, could-have, should-have" had, especially around the due date, etc...). The site is not faith-based and would provide their readers with much-needed information that will better aid them in making a fully-informed choice.

But, I won't hold my breath.... Has anyone seen the article? Do I need to retract my prediction?!

Back to the real world...

I just returned from a family ski trip in Santa Fe, New Mexico and wanted to touch base in between laundry loads. We had a blast! It had been four years since our last ski trip and I was pleasantly surprised that my post-forty body remembered what to do. I love to ski fast, but I had somehow imagined that I was past that and would now join the ranks of the slow and cautious. That is, until my youngest made some snarky comment when we got off the first lift about "mom being old and not able to keep up." Suddenly, I was overtaken by some sort of strange and mysterious adrenaline surge and morphed into a wannabe professional downhill Nordic skier. After flying past said child on numerous occasions and even spraying him with snow a few times as part of his tortuous punishment, I felt that justice had been served. It was especially rewarding to hear one of the other kids say, "Was that your mom?" to my son as I swooshed past at a speed that should not be allowed if you are over forty and your only source of exercise is walking to the mailbox each day. Of course, the whole way down I was praying that my quivering knees would not give way and provide my kids with enough ammo to taunt me for my remaining years. The things we have to do to earn a little respect.

Let me just say that I am so thankful that my kids are older and we are past the point where they throw tantrums in the snow at ski school and scream "I hate my parents for making me come to this stupid place!" (Paige, age six), cry over boots that are too tight (all three kids on every trip), and announce they need to go to the potty exactly two minutes after you finish the 30 minute drill to suit them up. I couldn't help but stifle a grin when walking past those cute little munchkins bundled up tightly in their ski suits while Mom and Dad stood nearby looking like they had been chewing on aluminum foil. It was during those years that my husband and I adopted the saying, "The family that skis together, hates each other." Memories all the same, I suppose.

And for the record, I have decided that ski boots are from the devil and I wouldn't be a bit surprised if everyone is issued a pair in Hell and forced to wear them fulltime. If that's not incentive to get saved, I don't know what is. If you ask me, there is no better feeling than taking those things off at the end of the day and putting on your cushy, warm after-ski boots. It ranks right up there in the same category as Sunday afternoon naps or having someone say you don't look old enough to have a child in college. The pleasure is unforgettable.

When all was said and done, I ended up skiing two of the three days and spent the third day shopping in Santa Fe. Fortunately, I was out of the eye of my own children as I hobbled from store to store, checking my watch every half hour to see if enough time had passed to justify a couple more Advil. I'm pretty sure the kids don't read my blog, so as far as they know, Mom just wanted to stay behind and shop for the sake of shopping. Of course, you and I know the real truth. I was so sore on day three that my only option would have been spending the day in the lodge, drinking round after round of hot cocoa. Of course for pride's sake, I would have limped out to the snow and strapped on my skis every so often in an effort to fool the kids and keep my ski-balla-mom image in tact.

Truly, we had an amazing time and now it's back to the real world. Within 12 hours of returning, Keith was back in the office and I was scrambling to help pack up Ryan for his flight back to college this morning. School starts tomorrow for all three kids and a March 1st book deadline is breathing down my neck. And on that note, it's back to writing.

Enjoy the pics and for extra credit, can you identify the celebrity we spotted in Santa Fe while shopping? He entered a shop we were in and one of the girls on our trip who joined us that day (also pictured with said star) recognized him. When she told me the name of his group, I seriously thought it was one of those fancy cookware/home decor stores where rich people register when they're getting married. Guess I don't listen to much Country music. (There's a hint!) Here's one more hint: Boot Scootin' Boogie