Loose ends.

I've never considered myself to be a fantastic writer. I wouldn't even say that excellent or distinguished describe my writing style. But (fanstastic writers probably don't start their sentences with but and and), I would say that the words in my head come out more intelligibly through my fingers than through my mouth most of the time. I'm okay with that. And, you know, the more I write, the better I speak. Weird.

I think an excellent writer (or even just a good one) would make sure to tie up any loose ends.
Oops.

In the first post of my story, I left y'all hanging with these words, "But being good betrayed me." Did I tell you how I was betrayed when I continued on? Nooooooo.

Then in my second post, I did the same thing and left you hangin' again! I guess I got caught up in the thrill of suspense.

I promise you that I will endeavor to tie up all my loose ends shortly. I will pull you away from that cliff and draw you to the warm fire where we can share some tea and be vulnerable. It only gets more vulnerable from here and I'm nervous about that. I hope I don't chicken out... ! I do want to be real and honest, but don't know how far or deep to go while it's out there for all to see in Blogtopia.

You will have to wait just a bit more as I will be missing-in-action for a couple weeks.
In the meantime, enjoy life and love and family!
I leave you with this picture to ponder...

Am I really letting my daughter take a picture of me while I'm in the Loo?

You be the judge.

~christa jean

Important Brain Cells Really Do Die After Having Children.

In particular, after having four children.

I thought I'd amuse you with a humorous little tale that proves this phenomenon to be astoundingly true! ;-D

It was the first decision that started it all.

There I was, parked next to the gas pump, when I tried to hand my debit card to gas station man. Gas station man looks at me incredulously and states, "No, you have to pay inside... is that okay?" Not sure why he asked me that, but here I am, now thinking "Is that okay... "

My thoughts start to justify why it would be okay for me to get out of the car to pay inside. "I only have 2 kids with me... we just came from the doctor... we could get a treat for enduring the doctor visit... I never get to go out with just this child (it was her and the baby)... I've never bought a treat for this child by herself... it is lunch time... a snack would stave off her hunger... "

I look at gas station man and say "Yeah, okay."

I lug the baby carrier into the convenience store, with child in tow and we browse the aisles looking for a healthy snack. HA! A healthy snack is not to be found in a convenience store, so I settle on mini Pringles and orange juice. Up to the cashier man we go.

As I begin to take out my debit card, it comes into my memory that for the past 3 months I have not been able to recall my PIN. This hasn't ever proved to be too much of an issue, because of checks or husband's card or cash. It definitely was an annoyance though, and I did not want to be annoyed, nor bothered by a trip into the bank ~ how inconvienent! I slip the card back into my wallet and take out my credit card, which requires no functioning memory to use. Cashier man looks at me incredulously and states, "We only take cash or debit."

My heart begins to palpitate a little more fiercely now as it begins to sink in that I may be in for some trouble. I step timidly up to the card reader and swipe my card, silently praying, pleading, begging the four digits to come forth from my fingers. I enter in the code and see the words, "Please re-enter PIN". I re-swipe my card, palms sweating as the line behind me of customers grows longer. Again the forboding words... and re-swipe card... I'm searching my brain, certain that there is a 4 and a 6 and an 8 in the code somewhere. I finally mumble to cashier man that I can't remember my PIN, help those behind me while I stand to the side trying to recall it. Cashier man huffs and cancels my purchase.

I'm standing to the side demurely, trying my darndest to figure out a way of escape! I can't call husband, he doesn't know my PIN. I can't call the bank, they will not disclose a PIN over the phone. I can't use the ATM, I need my PIN to do that! A scene from "Pee Wee's Big Adventure" comes to mind, you know the scene where Pee Wee has to work washing dishes because he couldn't pay up?

I'm starting to get agitated.

Cashier man says, "Are you ready?" I shuffle up to the counter, shoulders drooping and repeat the horrid scene from above. At this point, my darling little girl decides that she is really hungry and impatient and really wants the chips we are trying to buy. I quietly tell her we have to buy them first and that's what I'm doing dear... between gritted teeth. I step to the side again to allow the line behind me to disappear, with the intense wish that I could also disappear.

Cashier man gruffly calls for me again and I slouch up to the counter again. Repeat horrid scene again. Step to the side again.

At this point, I have no choice left but to cry. Yup, right there in the convenience store. I am sniffling, the whole works. I walk up to the counter again and try one last time. Nope. I look up at mean cashier man and say through my tears, "I'm sorry, I just don't know what to do." He pauses and says, "Well, I can charge it on your credit card but it will cost you an extra two dollars."

An extra two dollars? AN EXTRA TWO DOLLARS????!!!!!! I WILL pay an extra two dollars to save my dignity, if there is any left by now!

I didn't actually say that.

I rip the credit card out of my wallet, sign the receipt, and practically run out of the store. And can you guess what I did next?

I drove straightway to the bank.

Whew! It makes me laugh now, aheeheeheeheehuhuhooooohmyhead!

Anyhoooo...

Here are some super cute pics of my tiny man. Today we celebrated his 3 month unbirthday!

Such a happy boy!

What a dapper fellow!

That mark on his lip is called a "capillary hemangioma".

It is supposed to fade by the time he is one. Here's hoping!

I love watching him sleep. He is especially cute when I swaddle him.

His swaddle is light green and it makes him look like a wriggling caterpillar with a human baby head!

This sister loves to hold him and even learned to change his diaper!

He has a love affair with his hands. He talks to them affectionately every day.

Kissable!

~christa jean

Choices

If you've been following my story, you'll see that I like to be slightly dramatic...
I like words, and I like 'em strong and to the point.

These are my thoughts about "my story". What's funny is that in a couple years, I'll probably look back at my choices and see something totally different. Our stories are like that, constantly changing.
Now back to it!

The thing about being good is that it comes with an element of pride attached to it. At least, for me it did. When we think of pride, we think of arrogance, self-centeredness, conceitedness.
Miriam-Webster's even defines it as: "a reasonable or justifiable self-respect".
And that's where I found myself... justified.

I thought that I had made mostly right choices in life.
I worked hard at school.
I was choosy about who my close friends were, they had to be good too.
I chose to join an intense Christian discipleship program after I graduated high school.
I waited for the right husband.
My husband-to-be and I waited til marriage to "get physical" (cue 80's dance tune).

I would like to interject here that, up to that last point, I really do believe I was trying to follow what I thought to be God's plan for my life. And I don't want you to think that I despise those choices now... especially the waiting for the right husband part. I am so blessed in that area, but I will save those thoughts for another post.

So, I respected myself and my choices and took pride in the fact that mine was a good life.

Now, there is another face of pride that is not talked much about. If pride is truly about self at the center, it stands to reason that a low self-esteem would also be an aspect of pride. In my opinion (or experience), pride can think too much of oneself or too little of oneself. I tended to swing back and forth between the two extremes constantly.

I was driven inside by the feeling that I always needed to do a little better, be a little more spiritual, strive a little harder toward perfection. It was the perpetual (and tormenting) thought that there was something just beyond my reach that I could reach if I only tried a little harder. And so I tried harder. Good things seemed to come my way when I strove (aside from the angst inside) and thus, I would celebrate my achievements.

Augustine's definition of pride is this: "The love of one's own excellence."

I was excelling. I was seemingly happy.
But there was trouble a-brewin' just under the surface.

until next time...
~christa jean

Betrayal.

I was good.
I was good at being good.
Good became my god.

At some point, early on in my childhood, I became addicted.
I liked the attention I received when I was good. I craved it. I strove to be better so I could get more accolades. I was the epitomy of the "Good Christian Girl".

Sure, I wasn't all good all the time. I still fought with my sisters, to the chagrin of my parents! I cheated on homework once or twice. I lied. I tried a smoke. I kissed a boy. But all in all, I wasn't that bad.
I thought I just had a really strong guilty conscience that kept me out of trouble. I think now, looking back, I just had to be good. Being good kept me in my parents' smiles. Being good kept me as teacher's pet. Being good kept me out of hell.

But being good betrayed me.

stay tuned...
~christa jean

True Love

The moment I heard this song, I was riveted.
The words washed over me and moved my soul.
I couldn't find a good version of it on Playlist, but here is a live performance of it. This dude can sing!
I've printed the lyrics below, because the words are so full of power and truth.

"Come close, listen to the story

About a love more faithful than the morning

The Father gave His only Son just to save us

The earth was shaking in the dark

All creation felt the Father's Broken Heart

Tears were filling Heaven's Eyes

The day that True Love died, the day that True Love died

When blood and water hit the ground

Walls we couldn't move came crashing down

We were free and made alive

The day that True Love died, The day that True Love died

Search your heart you know you can't deny it

Come on, lose your life just so you can find it

The Father gave His only Son just to save us

The Earth was shaking in the dark

All creation felt The Father's broken heart

Tears were filling Heaven's Eyes

The day that True Love died, the day that True Love died

When blood and water hit the ground

Walls we couldn't move came crashing down

We were free and made alive

The day that True Love died, The day that True Love died

Now, Jesus is alive

Jesus is alive

Jesus is alive

Jesus is alive

Jesus is alive

Oh, He is alive

He rose again

When blood and water hit the ground

Walls we couldn't move came crashing down

We were free and made alive

The day that True Love died, The day that True Love died

Come close listen to the story."

It truly is THE best story.

My favourite line is, "Walls we couldn't move came crashing down".

I tried for so long to move those walls on my own, to work out my own salvation... but instead of finding what I was looking for, I became my own Saviour. And then the walls of pride and self-righteousness were built up around me. They sheltered me for a while until I realized that they had become my prison.

Thank God, "Pride goes before a fall" because I fell and those walls crumbled. I would not have chosen the way that my pride was broken, but I am so glad today for it. I am not that person anymore.

It was His pleasure to set me free!

More to come on this subject...

~christa jean

Poo Poo Chronicles UPDATE!

If you remember me blubbering back in January about this, then you'll be happy to hear of our progress... and I'm sure you've just been dying to know, haven't you?!

We have now been accident free (during the day) for almost a week!!! Joy now tells us when she has to go potty. She got to pick out her very own pack of panties from the store and she was very thrilled.

What really worked? Probably a combination of things. Hubby and I totally tag-teamed to get her to the toilet all.day.long. Then we did dorky things like sing and dance crazily after she would go in the toilet. Can you picture us singing "Happy Poo Poo to you... " blowing out candles, and clapping our hands loudly in the bathroom daily? Yeah, that's what we did. And it worked.

So, now you know.

~christa jean

Eye Poppin' Goodness!

Come along with me on a journey to Germany for some delectable breakfast fare...
Okay, we won't really be leaving my kitchen for this one. But I just had to share with you a favourite recipe of ours ~ Pop Eye Pancakes!

Here are the ingredients:

1 stick of butter (I prefer unsalted)

2 eggs

1/2 cup flour

1/4 cup milk

pinch of salt

lemon wedges

dusting sugar

(Do you see that I'm using organic flour, but nothing else organic? Go figure.)

Pre-heat your oven.

Divide butter into pans.

I used a 9x13 and two pie pans, which always give the best results.

Place pans in oven to melt the butter.

Mmm, tastes like buttah!

Whip the 2 eggs in the blender to fluff 'em, then add the milk and salt and flour.
Whip it, Whip it good!
Or, be lazy like me and make your toddler do it by hand in her princess p.j.s.
See? She even has flour on her cheek!
Note: I whip up a seperate batch for each pan and I double the recipe for the 9x13 pan.

Pour batter into hot, buttery pan!
Place in oven for about 20 minutes. Often mine are done early.

Oooh! See them pop!

Note to self: the metal pie tin does not work well.

Squeeze lemon all around, dust with sugar and voila!

These are hard to describe... so buttery... crispy edges... melt in your mouth goodness.
Scrumptiousness perfected!

Serve with bacon and fruit and you'll have happy faces smiling back at you.
~ christa jean ~
p.s. do tell me if you try these!