Bitter People Suffer Most

It never ceases to surprise me how bitter people are so full of hate that they cannot stand to see anyone else have anything good or joyful in their lives. I don’t understand. If you are miserable and someone else is not, would you not rather find out what makes them happy rather than attempt to make them miserable as yourself?

It has been common knowledge for a long time that this blog is viewed by a large number of my husband’s enemies. I try not to allow this to effect what I write for I do not write for them, I write for myself.

When I send out an update to my blog to share these things with people, I normally send instructions on how to comment. Mainly because my friends and family need the added guidance. I find the enemies need no assistance, their hatred leads the way to bitter and hateful things. How bitter of a person do you have to be to try to rain on someone’s birthday joy? I have a list of people I believe would do such hateful things. And for some reason I find myself smiling. (Would all my prayer warrior friends please join me in praying for these people? We can see how they so desperately need it!)

The joy that I experience in life I try to pass on to others. It is a vunerablity I choose to take for the pleasure and growth of others. There are many rewards with this. Many comment back to me in emails that go unseen expressing how this has effected others. And I am pleased. God has been very, very good to me and I want to pass that on. I take no credit on how my life has turned. There is the obvious – you must give control over to God to allow Him to move and yet I have been recipient to so many blessings for doing so.

Who would have thought? Life is such an adventure! It is painful. It is challenging. It is fun! How beautiful of a world that is created for our enjoyment! How much fun and excitement there is for our chosen pleasure!

Right outside our kitchen window we have a wooden T with three birdfeeders, a finch sock, hummingbird feeder and a place to hold a corn cob. (it’s busy to say the least) The entired family gets great joy from watching the squirrels get up there and strip the corn from the cob, twist their little bodies around to pull seeds from the tiny air holes in the bird feeders and jump in alarm from the feeder to the nearby trees at the slightest sight of Love.

There are purple martins with such a beautiful song. Tiny sparrows come in small groups. Yesterday there were two sets of mourning doves. A gorgeous red headed wood pecker struts his stuff and my favorite, the yellow finches. They are so beautiful in their bright yellow feathers. Three at a time will hang from the finch sack. How gorgeous!

Recently we have found a family of chipmunks living nearby the feeder. The little guy Bubs has named “Chip” (original) comes bouncing down the sidewalk, pauses in the middle (like no one can see him), and scurries over to pick up the corn seed the squirrels have left behind. Then he scurries back down the sidewalk and bounces through the grass till he pops right back down his hole.

How adorable! I came around the corner the other day and he froze right there in front of me. Tail standing straight up in the air. I couldn’t help but laugh at his stance because it was so funny. Bubs has ran out the door a few times trying to catch him. Unfortunately, the cat brought one of the family to the doorstep last night as a present. Somehow just couldn’t congratulate her on such a catch.

I have found that the house surrounded in hostas. I love hostas. The place is covered in them. Bearded iris’. The bulbs the girls and I planted are beginning to sprout. Purple flowers dot all around shaded areas. All these flowers I swear were planted in years before just for me. Because God knew how much I would appreciate and enjoy them.

DoogBoog would say the same thing about the ball court. God knew how much she would enjoy such a thing so He had someone in years previous pour the concrete just for her. The driveway for B-Bug and Bubs. The trampoline for Dink and the hottub for all of us.

This is just home. Pull back and think of all the things that have been put into place surrounding? What about in your own life? Be you a bitter person, you won’t find too much that you call blessings. That’s truly a sad way to be.

Bitterness will eat you from the inside out. It robs your life of all joy. Your soul from all peace. It will remove friends from your life. Lead you down a destructive path and grow hatred in your heart. Bitter people show what they hold on the inside by the lines on their face, the acid that drips from their tongue and the life-killing unhappiness that follows them around like a bad stench.

“Their throats are open graves; their tongues pratice deceit. The poison of vipers is on their lips. Their mouths are full of cursing and bitterness.” Romans 3:14

“Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every from of malice.” Ephesians 4:31

One the flip side, Joy does just the opposite.

“A joyful heart is good medicine but a broken spirit dries the bones.” Proverb 17:22

“A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones.” Provers 14:30

“Be joyful always; pray continually;” 1 Thessalonians 5:16 & 17

Be joyful in hope; patient in affliction; and faithful in prayer.” Romans 12:12

Joy is so much different than happiness. Happiness is fleeting. It’s dependent on surrounding circumstances. Joy has it’s own lifeline. It is fed by something with much greater sustenance. It is not temporary. You can be joyful in a dreadful circumstance. True joy does not leave. It stays and gives life to the body! How marvelous!

As I mentioned. I have ideas as to who would write such a thing. You have now been given your attention. My suggestion, as is to my friends a family, hence how I knew who wrote it: If you are going to comment, leave an idea as to who sent it. Basically, if you think you are big enough stuff to write something like this, be big enough to actually sign it. Something I have rarely had a problem doing. As we say in my house: Step up buttercup.

“The house of the wicked will be destroyed, but the tent of the upright will flourish.” Proverbs 14:9

H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y T O M E ! ! ! ! !

I am such a strange woman. (if you aren’t aware of this, it’s obvious you don’t know me) I like birthdays. I guess the fact that I keep being told I must be turning 30 helps. Hahahaha!

Yesterday I turned a bit more than 30. Came to work and the sun was shining. That’s always good. Had a good talk with a couple of friends. Work was slow. Got wished happy birthday all throughout the day. Even taken out to lunch. Yeah for me!

Even the one person I’m convinced hates me sent me an email with a cake wishing me happy birthday….maybe it’s just dislike….

So after the meeting at the strawberry festival where I learned some ‘interesting’ things about my fellow teammates….I came home. Turn down the street and here is this huge white sheet saying Happy Birthday Mom with all my kids’ hand prints on there in different colors….my face hurt from how big my smile was.

B-Bug comes running out the door to show it to me. Classic. I had the girls hold it up so I could get pictures of all the handprints. Then I made sure when the sheet was taken down that I got it and it wasn’t tossed out.

So I go in the garage with this big, fat, cheesy grin on my face to where my husband is cooking steaks for dinner. Oh and not just steaks. I had steak, crab legs, crab stuffed mushrooms and this brushetta with sun-dried tomatoes. Man was it good! I was a spoiled woman.

I meander into the house where on the kitchen table is the most beautiful bouquet of flowers. There were big red roses with tiny yellow rose buds. Purple flowers scattered through out. These purple flowers bloomed over the weekend and the tiny yellow rose buds began to open. The red roses are so beautiful and smell so good! I feel of rose petals on my face….they are so soft….

So after dinner and we are talking, the girls tell me to look under the spices. Under the spices??? For what? Just do it. Okay, so being the vertically challenged person in which I am, I have to get a stool. I’m looking, I’m looking…and there is this tiny slip of paper. Go to the shower? Find another one, look under your pillow. This took me all over the house. I have found more hiding spaces than ever in this house. Even in the microwave.

At one point I was to look in hubby’s pocket. It was so funny. Cause when I went to search his pockets, his chair fell backwards. Feet all up in the air. I think I was crying I was laughing so hard. Especially with the look on his face!!!

So I look and look and they are whispering. Finally it tells me to look behind the big plant in the kitchen. There is this huge box with this small one on top. I open them. One is all three Mummy movies. (big Brendan Frasier fan). The other, I can’t believe it.

I look at the box and he tells me, “It’s not what you think.” Okay, then he just used the box to pack the real present. Liar! Open it and there, inside, was a brand new laptop. Say it with me……..Vista. No, like this: Viiiiissssttaaaa….. I drove DoogBoog crazy with it. She would roll her eyes…..MOM!!!

I sat in shock. A laptop? A new laptop? For real? Is this really for me or for you and you gonna let me use it? Nope, for me. For real? I can’t believe …. I just can’t believe…I cried…..then I screamed . . . and screamed. . . and screamed . . . say it with me: V I I I S S S T T T A A A!!!

Oh, I geeked out! I got to install it. Yeah! Lightscribe. Multi-card reader. 160GB drive. A full Gig of RAM. Marvelous graphics. DVD RW (of course). Something called TV Recorder. It even has it’s own mini remote. WAY KOOL! I finally quit screaming and calmed down to high pitched giggling….oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah!

He’s looking at me….”Do you really enjoy that stuff that much? You really like it that much?” I’m trying to think of something that would mean the same to him. “Do you like your tools?” “I’d sleep with them if I could.” I pet the laptop, “This is my ‘tools’.” I can’t believe it! HA! Yeah for me! (I brought it into work for other’s to drive Vista if they want – one should share their blessings)

H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y T O M E ! ! ! ! !

Then: My son. My son, my son, my son…..

We knew it was gonna happen. We even mentioned it to the kids. Didn’t slow them down a bit.

DoogBoog has this place on the back of her bike for luggage, lunch, picnic basket, whatever….Bubs just figures it’s for his butt. We saw him earlier that day on Dink’s bike going down the road and we took bets as to whether he’d lose a toe or not.

We mentioned. If you have your brother on your bike, you need to make sure he has his shoes on because he’s going to get his foot caught. What do they do? Just like any other kids, ‘Sure. We will. Whatever…..”

So….as fate likes to step in a teach us lessons, she did.

I saw him plotted right on the back of the bike and as they are standing there, I see his little, tiny, baby foot going in and out of the spokes. I bang on the window and cause three heart attacks before I go running out the door with his shoes in hand. I’m telling her, “You have to be careful. You are going to get his foot caught in the spokes. He’s not old enough to know to keep them out. Please be careful and go slow. He is most definitely going to get them caught.”

I spoke it into existence.

We knew it was going to happen. We knew it. I even said, it is going to happen. Sure enough. Here comes B-Bug with him in her arms and him screaming. I can see the torn flesh. The purple color. I grab him and go into the bathroom with Dad following. Here comes DoogBoog in bawling. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. Tell him I didn’t mean to hurt him.” Didn’t we say this was coming?

Where’s his shoe??? They bring it in. It’s cut. (Whew! Glad we put them on!) Looking at his foot…okay, there is the torn skin, bruising, swelling….why is it white? Like paper white?

I’m not kidding…why is it white? That bothered me. So I’m feeling around on my own foot in the same spot. What could be damaged from spokes? Well, there is the tendon, the top of the heel bone could be grabbed…why is it white?

So we take him to the ER to make Mom feel better. (Dad said he was okay with that, lol) I kid you not, I’m in the back of the van with him to calm down my hurt baby boy and he falls asleep before we travel the 3 miles to get there.

Take him back, lay his sleeping body on the bed. They clean it, wrap it and explain the ‘white’ question. (which I might add was the same thing Dad had been trying to explain to me this whole time – and we say they don’t listen to us…..) When flesh experiences blunt, force, trama, it stops the circulation. Thus it turns white till the blood returns. So he’s not ‘killed’ that part of his foot. I’m good… breathing again…

Dad mentions that he’s going to think Spider Man wrapped his foot in webbing. You know what these people do? They go back and find some red and blue wrapping the same colors as Spider Man and wrap his foot in that. How cool was that? He loved it. (and he left his bandages alone too!)

Take some xrays…and….he’s good. Nothing broken. Need to follow up. Hopefully won’t need skin graphs. We’re all good!

Take him home where he played it up! Limping, “I can’t walk. I broke foot.” Riiiight. 5 minutes later he’s running down the driveway after his sisters screaming. I get nudged and told to look outside, he’s got his bicycle at the end of the driveway riding it down full speed. I shake my head and grab my camera….my boy…..

That Boy!!!

"I got glasses!"

My boy! What am I gonna do with him? He’s such a card. Stops my heart constantly. Drives me batty and melts me like butta.

There’s nothing he won’t get into, he won’t attempt, dismantle, try to fix. He believes that since ‘you’ did it, he can too. And don’t tell him no! God love him. You can see him trying to be good (when he really is trying to be good) but there’s this overwhelming ‘he’-force that just won’t let him do it.

"I got strong muscles! Feel my muscles Mommy! I strong!"

Last night. I come home from work and he’s out on the trampoline with his sisters. He doesn’t weigh a speck so when they jump he’s on all fours bouncing around uncontrollably.

Call him in for dinner and you have to fight to get him to the table. He throws back his head and howls….he doesn’t want to eat, he wants to play. (insert Mike Warnke’s ‘I must play……’) He sits down and holds his hands out for prayer. Then he looks around the table….God bless Mommy, and Sissy, and ‘Aungin’, and Sissy, and Daddy, and Love, (the cat), and fishes, and Mommy, and Sissy, and Aungin, and AMEN!

He’s ready to eat! GET ME TACO! NOW! PUT THIS ON IT! NOW!!! He doesn’t want any 3yr old friendly taco, he wants it like yours. With the hot sauce. And the sour cream. And the tomatoes. Then he promptly looks at it, licks his lips, slurps, and takes a bite right out the middle of it. Funny stuff!

Bubby and B-Bug going down the driveway. He's telling her to let go. She's trying to keep him from killing himself.

He’s got my wagon for gardening. Pushes it up past the van, up the steep driveway…lays on it and yells the whole way down where he crashes into the brick wall. His face was hilarious! Turns around, does it again. Two black feet hanging off the sides….

After dinner we all go out on the trampoline. I have never been so afraid in all my days! All my girls up jumping around, I’m bouncing like a Mexican jumping bean….then they decide to play duck, duck, goose. The boy is an animal!

Duck….duck….duuuuuck…..pauses to smile at me, GOOSE! “Common Mommy! Goose! Chase me!” Every try to chase a three year old on steroids? You know, the first three rounds of this, I did good. The next 2 I was glad I work out. The next three I was like – someone knock me off this trampoline so I have a good reason to crash on the couch. Please. Anyone…?

The girls had so much fun….when I had to tackle them I just jumped across everyone’s heads to tackle. (saves time) Made homemade icecream that was oooooooh sooo gooood. (wish you had some dontcha?)

Now. If he’d just quit sneaking in my bed at night and shoving those tiny toes in past my ribs, past the organs, and out the other side, I’d do much better!