Classic Gene & Andrea

One time when we were driving home from Ohio, we stopped at
McDonalds.  We ate our food, and I took
off for the restroom while the kids ran into the play place.  When I returned, there is Elena playing alone
while Brandt is standing at the door to the play area.  He was too scared to play.

It turns out that
there is a Ronald McDonald statue standing there and Brandt is too scared to
play because of it.  I had this little
flash in my brain about kids responding with empathy in certain situations, so
I gave it a shot.  “Oh he is such a nice
clown” and “Sometimes children get sick and their mommies can’t stay with them
in the hospital, so Ronald McDonald builds them houses beside the hospital so
they can stay close by”.  On and on I
ramble about the philanthropic practices of the good clown Ronald McDonald.

When I finally shut up, Gene said “Thanks.  I just got done telling him that the clown’s
not real and that he is just plastic like this chair.”

Brandt, who was thoroughly confused, kept saying things like:  “Is Ronald McDonald a chair?”  “He was dead but now he’s alive?”

It seems we often do stuff like this.  We cancel out each other’s teachable moments.  Instead of explaining it, we bought some
coffee and went home.

Real Time

Most times when I write, I don’t get it posted until at
least a couple weeks later.  So if you
are of the sensitive sort that can’t handle when some the statements I say
aren’t exactly true, like “yesterday I was talking to friends” actually it
wasn’t yesterday.  By the time it gets
posted it was like weeks ago.  It is the
way I roll.

Anyhow, for me to write about what I do day to day, is
really hard for me, I’m not sure why.  It
just seems dull, like everybody will fall asleep while I explain my fixation
for my daily coffee.

But today, my friends I am writing in Real Time.  Written and posted on the same day.

Should I tell people that I lost my camera? It’s true.  I lose cameras. I buy a new one.  I break it.
I buy another new one, and a child drops it into the bathtub.  This is my third camera in a year’s time.  This makes my husband very frustrated. Can you believe it?

Shall I tell people how first grade is kicking my butt?  Right now I want my little preschooler back,
who is sweet and helpful.  Why the snark?
Why the tears? Why the incessant whining for an ipod?  This week we (me and Elena) are this close
(imagine my fingers are pinched together) to having a crying melt-down every
single day.

Can I tell you of the many mishaps my husband’s family has been having?  In November my sister-in-law had a preemie
baby, born at 27 weeks.  My SIL nearly lost
her life as she hemorrhaged.  A tiny baby
boy was born, 2 lb 3oz, and finally this week little Jevon has finally come
home weighing a whopping five pounds.  I’m
not even being sarcastic by saying “whopping” because that’s how it feels to
me.  I can’t believe he has doubled his
birth weight!  I can’t believe the
miracle of life, and how these tiny babies can survive and develop even if you
wished they would have stayed in utero longer.

The day he gets released from the hospital the phone rings, and we hear the
story of Gene’s nephew who was on a mission trip to Haiti, and after arriving,
was robbed, and then shot in the stomach.
So the last few days it feels like I’m on the computer searching for
updates, wishing there was something we could help with.  And I am amazed that with the fallout of the
shooting, things “Just happened” that Chad’s life could be spared.

I will tell you that I am a person who lives and let’s live.  If someone near and dear to me is having a
hardship I am not the first one
knocking on their door with a covered casserole.  I value privacy, and am an introverted
loner.  I have been realizing though,
that this is not the best way to live.  I
felt like God calling several months ago, to do more reaching out to others
instead of shrinking back in fear.  Do
the awkward thing, and invite people over, offer to bring meals, and stretch
myself. By golly, though I didn’t mean for everyone in my family to start
having super-stressful lives.

And right this instant its 5:00 pm and I should be making supper, but I decided
pancakes and eggs will be good enough for tonight, and that I can afford to
keep on writing.  The kids are upstairs
running and yelling with their cousins who dropped by to play.  I am ignoring them.

My life is good, but now I’m in a little bit of a winter.   You
know when you list all the things you have going for you, and intellectually
you know you have it SO good? Yet, you still feel a little lost?  That’s me right now.  I’m looking forward to spring.

And now it is 7:00, the pancakes have been eaten, my husband is working late
tonight.   I’m settling down with Elena to watch The
Biggest Loser.  Clearly I am not so busy
feeding the hungry, needy people that I have no time to bond with my eldest
child over people’s “weight-loss journeys”. (most over-used phrase on the show)

And now it is 10:00 and the children are all soundly sleeping.

Good night.
And God bless.
Especially after you read this somewhat depressing play by play of my evening.