What if...

Give four feisty girls (and one handsome boy!) a little music, a little freedom, and a master bathroom that's been transformed into a "Rock Stars Only" dressing room, and this is what you get...

Burdened by the fragrant aroma of freshly baked goods? (coconut cupcakes for example!)

A simple, inexpensive way to remedy this problem: extend microwave time on a bag of popcorn just to the point of a small fire, paying careful attention as not to reach raging inferno. Open the charred bag, allowing odious smoke to fill the house, and wha-lah, problem solved...no more annoying home baked goodness.

Stay tuned for more helpful how tos!

The coconut cupcakes are in the oven; the coconut extract is still sitting in a puddle on the counter top, where the tiny bottle tumped over (btw, is "tumped over" in anyone else's vocabulary?).

I would say it smells like a birthday 'round here, but actually, it smells more like I'm baking in the sun, than baking in my oven! Mmmm, birthday and beach, what a perfect combo.

Happy Birthday, Lily-girl!

I would apologize for being such a blog-slacker, but an apology might imply an attempt to do better in weeks to come, and that's doubtful. But this week is Lily's birthday week, with 3/26 being the big day. But I want to celebrate her all week, so to start off, here are 7 things I'd like you to know about my soon to be 7 year old.

Lily is exactly what you'd expect if you put David and I in a blender, which creates a bit of a walking, talking contradiction. She's very easy going but often moody, social and outgoing, but doesn't like to be the center of attention...the list of "this but that" is never ending. She's hard to peg, and I really love that about her.

Lily was 8 lb, 7 oz at birth, which is considered a big baby, but then became the most petite little "pee-mite" as her Grandmama Wissy would say, barely tipping the scale to 19 pounds on her first birthday.

Lily is an amazing big sister. She walks Luke to class everyday, and that's just one of many kind things she does on his behalf.

Lily is my Easter baby, which is how I chose her name. The year she was born, Easter fell on 3/30. She was due 4/1, born 3/26. You can imagine how many Easter lilies, stuffed bunnies, and frilly dresses filled my hospital room upon her arrival.

Lily and I share a middle name, Michelle.

Lily loves dogs. Especially her own "baby," as she calls our boxer KC. But she also has a deep affection for our neighbors' golden retriever puppy, Cooper, and my parents' dog, Penny. Lily loves all dogs, but I hear more about those three dogs than I do friends at school.

Lily is very generous, and truly has a heart of gold. This morning when I told her I'd bring a treat from Dunkin' Donuts (her fave!) to her class on Thursday, her first response was, "Could you grab my teachers a cup of coffee? They love coffee." And recently when her Aunt Brenda sent a bundle of pencils, she immediately began dividing them out to share with others without a moments thought about keeping them all to herself. Hmmmm, makes me wonder if gifts is her love language.

With a Gaelic name and a household that's 50% redheaded, you might think March 17th would yield a dinner of Shepherd's pie and Guinness...but you'd be wrong. To celebrate the not-quite-sure-what-it's-for-anyway holiday (no offense St. Patrick), we all donned our "pinch me not" green and dined on spinach salad, creamed spinach, green eggs and ham, lime jello jigglers, pistachio pudding parfaits, and Sprite. Hardly Irish, but certainly fun!

David was a great sport. Gotta love a guy that eats that for dinner one night, and cold cereal the next, without so much of a hint of disappointment. Thanks, D. I'm lucky...and you're charming. ;)

Why is it that for my yearly female check-up, I plan days in advance, making sure I have nicely pedicured feet with freshly painted toe nails, cleanly shaven legs (all the way up, all the way down), and my finest undergarments, even though the gyno doc never even sees them... BUT when visiting a specialist today, when I should have known I'd have to strip down, I somehow forgot to shave, had chipped toe nail polish, and just happened to be wearing black socks, leaving a layer of linty debris on my feet and toes, as if I had given up washing my feet for Lent. In the moments before the tech came in, I stood there in my paper shorts (very cool BTW, never been given a pair of those!), staring down at my ashy legs, needing a shave and a tan, and my linty, toe-jam looking feet, and debated using the antibac gel or Lysol cleaning wipes I'd spotted on the counter to at least get rid of the top layer of winter scaliness and black sock fluff. However, I opted not to try that, certain that although it would give my legs a more moisturized look, the strong scent would give me away in no time. And I'd rather be seen ashy and linty than caught slathering my legs with antibac gel or Lysol wipes, 'cause that'd just be weird.

Fortunately, both the ultrasound tech and nurse were very kind and understanding. We all got a good laugh out of my sincere apology to the gentleman applying the ultrasound jelly to my legs for the black stubble he was forced to encounter. I was worried he may snag his latex glove. I truly valued the way they both reassured me they have seen far worse, and that's always a comfort.

My shining moment was when they asked to photograph my legs and feet. Yes, please, immortalize this moment! Sure, they told me it was so the doctor (who was out today) could see a picture of my AVM, but I'm not so sure those pics won't end up as the "before" pictures on some low budget product ad. Maybe an ad for no-chip nail polish top coat, or "end severe winter dryness" specialty cream, or better yet, a hair removal tool. If they snapped a pic of my heel area, I'm sure I could at least be a "before" Ped-Egg model.

On the up side, by the time I left, having had blue jelly rubbed all over my legs from top to bottom, I was no longer ashy...just a little sticky.

**BTW, this appointment was primarily to establish a relationship with a specialist I may need in the future to address the life long vascular anomalies I have (think blue ear)...just wanted to make sure I didn't worry anyone. You should be more concerned about my apparent lack of up-keep than my health!

Rain, rain, go away!

No cutesy song, no rhymes, please, just go away. Or at least bring some impressive thunder and lightning...make the electricity go off so I can find some candles and complain about the inconvenience even though I really think it's kind of fun...until bedtime, then I need my fan. But at least a good storm brings a little excitement. This however, this rainy system that's been plaguing us since Friday, it's just dribble. Like being drooled on, constantly, for days. I'm tired of being drooled on. I need some sun.

I asked Lily and Luke if they were hearing any words on the bus that they knew were ugly words; I thought having an open conversation may take the mystery and allure out of the ugly language that I'm certain slips from the mouth of the bigger kids on the bus from time to time.


Luke stayed quiet, but a sly grin quickly formed on Lily's lips as she cautiously said, Yes...the s-word...shut up. Luke then chimed in to relay a story about a time a big kid used the s-word to him, his excitable tone of voice indicated he was appalled at the boy's use of such language. Shut up, whew, dodged a bullet on that one, but not for long. And the f-word, Lily hesitantly added a few moments later. Big gulp. I looked across the room to see David's eyes enlarge to the size of the dinner plate he was loading into the dishwasher. Okay. Tell me the word. Fart. Whew, that is indeed an ugly word in our house, but I dodged more than a bullet there, I dodged a bomb...the f-bomb. Anything else, Lil? Well, I think damp maybe a bad word too.

Sarah, Emely...this is my daughter, Lily. Would it be okay if she joined you on the slide?

Sure! Yeah!

And off they went.

A few minutes later, I watched them run back by, all grinning ear to ear. Not long after that, Lily returned to get a sip of her drink, and after scanning the noisy room said, "I can't find my friends." So I helped her find them, quickly. After all, these days are fleeting, and I don't want her to miss a second of these easy, breezy friendships. These are the slide together, enjoy the same TV shows, sit by each other in class, first name basis is good enough kind of friends. Sure, they are immature relationships, lacking the depth and intimacy that will be the hallmark of her adult friendships, but boy, are they easy. And sometimes, there's just something to be said for ease.

One day, when her investments of time and emotion are greater, as she makes herself vulnerable, she'll learn the beautiful paradox found in the complex simplicity of having grown up girlfriends. Surely, as she learns the hard lessons of flawed humans building relationships, a time will come when I'll long to rewind to the day when her Daddy, little brother, and I were the only ones trusted with her heart. But I'll know then what I know now, which is, I would never want her to miss the joys of having wonderful, Godly friends. Though the friends that burrow a place deep in her heart are the ones who have the power to break it, they are also the ones who'll know just how to mend it when her man says something stupid, when her fat jeans are too tight, or when her dream job turns into a nightmare. She will have friends that she can laugh with until she cries, that recognize the break in her voice when she's trying not to cry, and that hold her hand when she can't help but cry.

And these women, these friends, be they many or few, are somewhere in the world right now. Little girls, making friends with ease on playgrounds and in classrooms. Little girls who are best friends today, then fussing tomorrow, then best friends again, as they awkwardly navigate the waters of developing friendships. And though I've prayed for her to love the Lord, prioritize her education, follow her dreams, find a Godly husband...I have never prayed for her grown up girlfriends. Girlfriends who will enter her life early, or may be in it already; and ones who will come later in life, just when she needs them. The friends that will carry her through life's ups and downs in ways that I can not. The friends who will support her, encourage her, correct her, and pray for her...the ones she'll call when she knows I'll overreact, or thinks I just don't understand.

So tonight, Lord, those little girls are on my mind. I do not know who they are, but You do. I pray for her discernment and wisdom when choosing friends, her tenderness and compassion when relating to friends, and her strength and integrity when protecting her friendships. Lord, help me set an example of how to be a friend, the kind of friend You desire sisters in Christ to be. A trustworthy friend, a generous friend, an intuitive friend, a patient friend, a prayerful friend, an encouraging friend. Lord, please bless my girl with a lifetime full of gut-busting, cheeks-hurting, mascara-running, laughter-filled moments with these friends. May her grown up friendships hold more tears of joy than tears of pain, and may those relationships last well beyond the years when she begins to pray for her own little girl's future friendships.

Tomorrow's two hour delay for school is the icing on my snow day cake. (And I think the icing is my favorite part!) Doesn't require an alarm clock, doesn't require a make up day. It's the best of both worlds. Kids to school by 9:30, get myself to work by 9:45...sounds so good to me! Wish every day was on a two hour delay.

For the second time this year, I have spent a little time in the grocery store the day before an expected snow. Busy, very busy, but that's expected, so I just take it in stride. But both times, I've run into the same annoying situation... customers complaining about the people who rush to the grocery store for staples the night before a storm. I know I should just keep moving, without wasting an ounce of energy being annoyed at these people, but I actually find myself stalling on the same aisle, pretending to sort through my coupons or check out the best deals, when in reality I'm imagining how good it would feel to yell out, "Hello, POT?!? It's me, Kettle. You're BLACK!" or maybe just a simple,"Then why the heck are YOU HERE!?!" I mean, seriously, am I supposed to believe they just happened by the grocery store and put that milk, bread, and water in their carts just because? The fact that I'm in the grocery store does not mean I'm panicked about the snow, it means I'm so darned spoiled by the convenience of living right by a grocery store that I tend to let that last drop of milk pour or that last slice of bread toast, before I think to replenish...which could create a bit of an inconvenience if I don't prepare a little. So word to the wise, don't stand and complain about the amount of people who head to the grocery store when the storm is approaching while YOU are standing in the grocery store as a storm is approaching!