Poetry

I had my students working on sonnets the past few weeks, which they presented on the last day of school. Most were delightful. I figured I had better write one if I was making them do it, so here it is.

ODE TO A SONNET
Behold the beauty of a line that breaks
Across a poem spreading waves of words
That tell the thoughts of authors and which makes
Moments or a lifetime pierce like sharp swords
Of experience told. Just a few lines
Which are more lovely and more temperate
Leave an impression in one’s life which pines,
More! Shakespeare, Shelley, Browning aggregate;
To appellate a few poetic minds
Who shaped genre and imagination.
Read, think, love, weep, imbibe, digest those lines.
Sounds, letters, words, and space take shape, move in
And out of lives, marks left indelible
Crafted by authors incomparable.

X-mas

This is the time of year when people get up in arms about the removal of Christ from Christmas, suggest boycotts, get angry when employees of stores say "Happy Holidays!" (Most of them are just doing what their boss told them to do, they don't have a hidden agenda.) I have mixed feelings about the issue. Yes, it bothers me that in the name of inclusion, everything but a specifically Christian celebration is venerated in public. But then again, why are we surprised when, as the Scripture promises, the world hates us? America is not a Christian nation. The world is not a Christian world. Anything that is not Christian, that does not belong to Christ, belongs to Satan. I think that should inform our response. The AFA recently called for a boycott of GAP because of their commercial that has people chanting "Go Christmas, Go Hannukah, Go Kwanzaa..." and ends with something like "Merry dowhateveryouwannakah". They are a retailer. Their goal is to make money, and to be honest, I prefer mentioning everybody to the stupid "Happy Holidays!" or "Season's Greetings!" I don't plan on boycotting GAP for recognizing that not everybody is a Christian or celebrates Christmas. A better response, and one that would make more of a difference, would be to make sure, that wherever we shop this year, and all throughout the year, that we are kind and patient with the sales clerks. Don't huff about long lines or slow service. Smile big and wish them a Merry Christmas, after thanking them. The employees aren't going to notice/care/be affected by the absence of one more faceless consumer. What they will notice is someone treating them with respect and kindness. Self-righteous retreating from the world because not everything is to our liking is about the worst response. I bet Satan loves it when the AFA or groups like that succeed in getting Christians to run and hide instead of engaging in the world, like we are commanded to.

Books: free to a good home

If you would like any of these books, please let us know by this Friday. Otherwise they are going to a garage sale.

Words of Wisdom: A Journey Through Psalms and Proverbs (Tyndale Press)

Man of Destiny (A retelling of the Gospels) No author

Moses and Monotheism by Sigmund Freud

The Dead Sea Scriptures: An English Translation by Theodore Gasner

From Paradise to the Promised Land by T.D. Alexander

An Introduction to the Parables of Jesus by Robert Stein

Interpreting the Parables by Craig Blomberg

Poet and Peasant/Through Peasant Eyes by Kenneth Bailey

Teaching of the Epistle to the Hebrews by Geerhardus Vos

Encountering the Old Testament by Bill Arnold and Bryan Beyer

Westminster Confession of Faith, commentary by GI Williamson

An Introduction the New Testament (2 copies available)by Carson, Moo and Morris

A Biblical History of Israel by Provan, Long, and Longman

Ten Secrets for the Man in the Mirror by Patrick Morley

Scripture Twisting by James Sire

Caring Enough to Confront by David Augsburger

Debating Calvinism by Hunt and White

What Love is This? by David Hunt

The Soul of Science by Pearcey and Thaxton

When Science Meets Religion by Ian Barbour

The Spirit of the Disciplines by Dallas Willard

The Soul of the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by Gene Veith.

fashion-able?

I just got done flipping through the one fashion magazine I subscribe to. Every so often I have a crisis about my clothes, perpetuated by continuing to do things like flipping through fashion magazines. My personal style is a little younger than I actually am, and I prefer the "casual" end of the business casual dress code at work. But then I think I should be dressing more my age, whatever that means, and of course I want to look cute. But some things have changed. I feel entitled to keep my flabby post baby tummy as long as I want, skinny jeans be darned. There will never be a pair of pointy toe boots that don't make me look like a circus clown and/or cut off the circulation to my toes because my ginormous feet grew even bigger during pregnancy. One trend I will shun for sure: wearing 2 cardigans at once. Besides the fact that I live in Florida, where one is enough, it just looks like the sweater equivalent of putting on one of each of two different pairs of shoes to decide which to wear but forgetting to put the match on of whichever you ended up with.

Out of the mouths of babes...

This week (and last week, too) I've been overwhelmed, as does happen... with balancing work and motherhood, with concern for the trials of friends and loved ones, with lack of sleep, the ever-growing pile of "to be graded"... This morning I arrived at my tutoring job and before we got started, one of the girls told me she had finished her Bible memory work. I asked her to recite it for me, and this was the passage:

Isaiah 40:28-31
28 "Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.

29 He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.

30 Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;

31 but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint."

Amen and amen.

Motherhood: the great re-prioritizer.

About this time last year William and I were discussing when we were going to start trying to have kids. I was the hold-out, but after a lot of prayer and thought we talked and the conclusion was we would wait a year. Little did I know I was already pregnant. I was chalking up the exhaustion and the crazy to the fact that I was teaching 100 adolescents a week. Fast forward a year. I have a beautiful 3 month old son, and I’m teaching only about 70 adolescents a week. This year has been a huge learning process. Learning to trust God more deeply, learning to ask for help, learning to be a mother, and learning to be a mother who works outside the home part time.

Now that I have Edward, I am learning to let go of a lot of stressors I had before. I have always worked in jobs where my priority was other people’s kids, as a babysitter, teacher, youth group worker. Even though I’m still teaching, other people’s kids are not my priority. My child and my family is my priority. And I see now that it should have been that way before God gave us a baby. When I’m teaching, I give the best I can, which with the lack of sleep, isn’t always that great. When I’m at home, I give the best I can to my family, which with being exhausted from teaching on little to no sleep, isn’t always that great. But I’m not still giving my best to my job and putting my family second when I’m at home. My best is for my husband and son, not the stack of papers sitting next to me at the table. And that’s another blessing. My idea of a successful, accomplished day is very different from what it was last year. At the end of the day, the most important question is not “Am I all caught up on grading?” but “Did I serve my family?” If the answer to the latter isn’t “yes”, then it doesn’t matter how caught up I am at work, if the laundry is all done, or if the kitchen is clean. In this new responsibility I have a freedom I never knew before, which is to just let go.

CS Lewis

A couple weeks ago I had the privilege of attending a conference on CS Lewis, and the main speaker was his stepson, Douglas Gresham (the guy in my profile photo... one day Edward will appreciate having met him!) I haven't had time to post all the things I want to about what I heard and learned there. I don't know when I will... so I just wanted to throw some snippets out there that really stuck with me.

The first is from one of the other speakers, Jill Briscoe, a delightful elderly British lady who was a small girl in WWII. Her description of the gospel, as she heard it for the first time, was "God came down the stairs from heaven, put a baby on a bale of hay, and set the world on fire." This might be one of the most beautiful and powerful descriptions of the gospel I've ever heard. It will stick with me for the rest of my life. The incarnation changed everything. Another was her description of spiritual warfare and the reminder that Satan hates us, our families, our friends. Hates. Her encouragement was for us to use the spiritual weapons given to us to make Satan and his demons sorry they ever started this whole business. Both those things she said were such amazing reminders that we are at war. The Christian life is one of future peace, but of temporary violence. It's easy to get lulled into just wanting to be safe all the time and that is just what Satan wants.

In speaking of the nature of grief, Mr. Gresham put it beautifully that the grief we feel over earthly loss is a testament to how much we loved that person and what that person meant, and it's nothing to be ashamed of, and very often, it's all we have left of the person who has died. Another good reminder that "happy" isn't the only option for a Christian.

On a non-deep level, Mr. Gresham told us that his mother and stepfather had 2 Scrabble editions, and the way they played was that they combined the letters and boards and could use any word in any known language, real or fictional, as long as they could prove it existed. How awesome is that?

models of inefficiency

Last October, when we found out I was pregnant, we had been searching for months for an affordable private health care plan that covered maternity. (They don't exist). Our last resort was that we were going to join Medi-Share. For me to join they required x-rays and a sign-off from a doctor that my scoliosis does not require any kind of ongoing treatment. We were just getting ready to see if my old orthopedist office had the records after all these years or get new x-rays when we found out I was pregnant, which means Medi-Share wouldn't cover me, and neither would any other insurance company. We tried all the government programs but we made too much money. (Those of you who also work at ICS will know how laughable that statement is.) So we paid for my pregnancy and birth out of pocket, with lots of prayer, love, and financial support from our community of friends and family. Before Edward was born, William, who is on Medi-Share, got all the info on how to add our son to his coverage. We couldn't add him til he was 21 days old and they don't cover retroactively, which was fine. William got the paperwork going and in as soon as they'd let us. He called to make sure they received it before we had Edward's 2 month checkup and that's when they told him they don't cover well-checks or immunizations. Apparently no-one thought this was pertinent information to divulge until after they had our money. While this was all going on, we had tried again for Medicaid since I'm now working part time and we're much closer to the poverty level than before. We were denied. The reason? We own our cars, payment free. We qualify only for medically needy, wherein we would have to pay our entire month's combined salary EACH MONTH before we get any help. We've applied for Kidcare, which is our last shot at getting our baby any kind of health coverage. We should find out soon if we get it or not. Our doctor told us we could go to the health department to get Edward's immunizations for free instead of paying out of pocket, so we tried that. The health department opens at 7:30. Last Friday we went at about 8:00 and they had filled their quota for the day and wouldn't give any more. There's a mad rush right now, the lady explained, because of back-to-school. So we got up at 6 on my day off to get there extra early this morning. We stood in line for an hour, slowly moving into the building. The workers were handing out the papers you have to fill out to get your shots, and right as it was our turn, the lady in charge announced that they were done for the day and we all had to leave. No matter that we were here on Friday, and they even recognized us, no matter that we'd been waiting for an hour, no matter that we needed a different shot than everybody else there. They give a certain number a day and that's it. This is government health care. This is not the solution to the problems we've been having. I was, to put it mildly, less than gracious upon being told I couldn't get my baby vaccinated today. Again. If this is the future of health care, then God help us. It didn't help my mood to see other families that had been waiting pack up in a brand new Escalade and a Lexus. Really? You drive an Escalade but you can't afford health care? Bull-something I won't say because my mom is reading.
If I wasn't working or if William and I weren't married or if we had debt on our cars we would have no medical bills. That is not an exaggeration; it's how government health care works. If I was getting my groceries and health care paid for by the government, why would I want to make enough money to get to where I am now, just barely making it each month and unable to get shots for my baby? Why? And the answer is not to expand government care so then we can all go stand in lines, hoping the government will be able to hand us what we need today. No one should have to do what I had to do this morning, and will have to do again until we luck out. I don't want that to be how all health care works. The government has created a broken system that perpetuates dependency, laziness and entitlement and now they are trying to fix it by making it an even bigger beast. I hate this but I don't have a solution. I just know that more of something that is crappy is not the right answer.

Isaiah 61

1 The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
2 to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,

3 and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.

4 They will rebuild the ancient ruins
and restore the places long devastated;
they will renew the ruined cities
that have been devastated for generations.

5 Aliens will shepherd your flocks;
foreigners will work your fields and vineyards.

6 And you will be called priests of the LORD,
you will be named ministers of our God.
You will feed on the wealth of nations,
and in their riches you will boast.

7 Instead of their shame
my people will receive a double portion,
and instead of disgrace
they will rejoice in their inheritance;
and so they will inherit a double portion in their land,
and everlasting joy will be theirs.

8 "For I, the LORD, love justice;
I hate robbery and iniquity.
In my faithfulness I will reward them
and make an everlasting covenant with them.

9 Their descendants will be known among the nations
and their offspring among the peoples.
All who see them will acknowledge
that they are a people the LORD has blessed."

10 I delight greatly in the LORD;
my soul rejoices in my God.
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness,
as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,
and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

11 For as the soil makes the sprout come up
and a garden causes seeds to grow,
so the Sovereign LORD will make righteousness and praise
spring up before all nations.


For Patti, who has everlasting joy now, and is brightening heaven with her smile.

The year of all good music

According to my husband, this year is 1996. Many times a song comes on the radio that we both move to turn up, and he will tell me it came out in 1996. It happened again yesterday when I heard The Verve Pipe twice: on the way to church and on the way home again. I remember their song "Freshmen" from 1997 but it must have come out the year prior. Our music discussions always lead to talking about what was going on in life at the time. Usually our conversations run something along these lines: (William): "I was in my second year of college in Wyoming playing rubgy!" (me): "I was in 8th grade struggling to pass Algebra!" or (William)"I was teaching in Jersey!" (me) "I was getting my driver's license!"

Ok maybe it's not quite that bad... but William is older enough than me to have always been a couple stages of life ahead of me until we met in seminary. Now it doesn't matter that we are from different generations, but to think how old (or in my case young) we were back in the day is kind of funny. We have very different ideas on a lot of things, culturally, politically, and on some peripheral theological issues. I don't know how much this has to do with the fact that he is from the 70's and I am from the 80's. (Which means he knows more 80's music than I do and I know early 90's til now, plus what my dad listened to, hence the Zeppelin.)But music is one of the areas in which we find enough common ground that we can find something we both like on the radio or on our itunes. (Confession: I don't know that I will ever love They Might be Giants as much as he does.)

Though there are a large amount of songs that are great that were made in '96, I don't know that it is the year of all good music. There must have been some stinkers in there. The local oldies station has an idiotic tagline that they operate on the assumption that all the good music is already made. While I think that most new pop songs are schlock, there are plenty of current bands and musicians that are awesome but get no mainstream attention. I posted a couple of these on my brother's facebook page, so I won't go on that tangent here. Mostly I'm wondering what everyone else's year of all good music is. And why?

Austen and the undead

This summer I've been reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. I loved it. But if you are inherently offended by zombies, occasional innuendo, violence, or the very idea of someone messing around with a classic of English literature, then this book is not for you.

It keeps the main plot of the original, the shenanigans and exploits of the Bennett family, dear Bingley and Darcy, the shadester Wickham, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and all the rest. It just assumes that zombies have overrun England and that the Bennett sisters are deadly warriors, trained in China to defeat the undead, and until they are married/if they get married, they are sworn to defend England til death. There's not actually much to add to that description without just reciting the book. The plot is basically the same so if you know the original, you know what happens, just not the particulars of this new imagining.

I found myself laughing out loud at several places. William is reading it now and he loves it, and he doesn't even like zombie stories.

I love Jane Austen. One of my prize possessions is an Austen collection I bought in England. I believe Colin Firth = Mr. Darcy and always will. And I think most rewrites or reimaginings fail. But this is a lark of a read, good for summer time.

Reunionized

No names are given in order to protect the innocent and the guilty.

My 10 year high school reunion was this past Saturday night. I was nervous all day like I haven't been since I was actually in high school. I had some great times and great friends then, but I was by no means a popular or socially accepted person. I was smart, played the wrong sports, didn't dress like everyone else, wasn't the right kind of pretty, and didn't talk much. When I did I was usually arguing about Calvinism. I was never asked to homecoming or prom or any other outing by a boy. I would go home and cry every day leading up to the event and then go with my girlfriends and have a better time than anybody else. But it still hurt to never be that girl who got to wait for her date to come get her for the high school formal (not a dance, because Baptists are ridiculous.) People always tried to encourage me that I shouldn't care what those people think anyway and I'm too good for them and blah blah. Truth is though, I did care and I did want them to like me.

The past 10 years have been good to me. I have gained confidence, I look good (if I do say so), I have a career and a family, I have amazing friends. I haven't thought about those high school people in years. 10 years, in fact, except for the few I have kept in touch with over the years through email and phone calls, and now facebook. On the way to the reunion I was, as mentioned, nervous. I told William stories of my time at TFA, of how the cliques worked, what the cool sports were, some of my more fun times, and some of the miserable times. As soon as we walked in to the restaurant, I was miserable as I looked around and saw very few people that I cared about seeing. To add to that rush of insecurity I hadn't felt since 1999, no one so much as said hi as I stood there in the doorway not wanting to step in further (and fighting the urge to turn right around and drag my husband with me to go home.) After a few awkward minutes I did see some friendly faces, so we talked a little and laughed at how weird this whole situation was. Then the people that were cooler than me in high school started being friendly. It was nice. But I also have latent feelings of knowing that we didn't talk then, so why should we talk now? It's not like we're going to be friends from now on.

Awhile later someone who had been a good friend in high school showed up and we shared the feeling of only being there mostly out of curiosity to see what has become of everyone. I have to say, on a very shallow note, that 10 years has been really good to some, and really rough on others. It was a very shallow victory indeed but it was still sinfully fun to see that some of the guys who were hot snot back then are now balding but otherwise haven't changed a bit (which is not a good thing.)

During dinner William and I sat with a couple guys that had been truly nice to me at my time in school and we ended up having a really great time. I will say that nothing helps along a conversation with people you haven't seen in 10 years than them taking full advantage of the bar. I myself enjoyed the best glass of shiraz I have ever had as I heard my friends' wild stories of what they've been up to all this time. As the night wound down and I was reaching my limit of how long I could stay away from my baby, I was sincerely sorry to have to leave so soon as I hugged people goodbye and slipped out the door I was so ready to run out of 3 hours before. It'll probably be another 10 years before I see them again, but now it will be something I look forward to.

Musings on Music

Why is music so important to us? Why do certain songs touch your soul, and others are repellent, but not universally?

Music is a powerful medium. One of the dumbest things I've ever heard, theologically speaking, is that music is evil because Satan was the minister of music in heaven and that's why we have to be so careful. (If none of you have heard this before... try going to a rabidly Southern Baptist private school for 7 years. Apologies to my Southern Baptist friends.)The proof text for this is an obscure verse in Ezekiel. But the context is Ezekiel pronouncing judgment on the King of Tyre, using metaphor to drive home just how far the King is going to fall. So there goes that argument. (Context, people!)

Like all things, God created music, but that still doesn't explain its power or ability to move us. Songs become our friends. When we share them with others, it's a personal risk. Sometimes the songs become marred because of who we share them with.

Songs can remind us of times in our lives, for good or bad. Hearing old N'Sync on the radio reminds me of high school/early college, especially "Bye Bye Bye." It's not like this song is a great piece of music that will last forever, or even that I like it, but I still oddly thrill when it's played at the dances I chaperone for my school. I remember the video, where the guys are marionettes and then Justin Timberlake gets chased by Dobermans. I can even do part of the dance. But I'd never say "Bye Bye Bye" is an all time favorite song.

An ex of mine introduced me to some good music. Pedro the Lion, Damien Jurado, Pete Yorn. For a long time after I dumped the loser (who hopefully will never be reading this!) I couldn't listen to them. I went so far as to throw the cd's out the window driving home one night from the boonies so I could crush them with my car. It was cathartic.

My first year of teaching middle school English I tried to introduce music as a form of story telling. The previous teacher was apparently rather, um, strict and traditional. There. That's a nice way to say it. (I never met the lady... just heard stories from the students.) When we study Pilgrim's Progress in 8th grade, I preface the unit by discussing the idea of a hero, both in the literary definition and what we view as heroic. To add depth to the understanding, I played "Superman" by Crash Test Dummies and thought I could start a discussion on why the song is so depressing, when it's so contrary to our ideas of heroes as these impervious, confident people. I had such lofty hopes as I shared this fantastic song with my young students. They all looked at me like I was weird.

I played "Shadow Stabbing" by Cake and asked the students to listen for the metaphor about writing. Another epic fail. I played "Only a Man" by Jonny Lang and "A Song Is Not a Business Plan" by Rocket Summer as examples of personal narratives. This was slightly more successful because I think by this time my students were used to my unconventional approach to teaching and were a little more comfortable with class discussion, which apparently was not allowed by the previous teacher. In 7th, when we discuss epic and lyrical poetry, I play "Deathbed" by Relient K, one of the most amazing songs to be written in the 21st century. I have the students listen for the repetition, the slight changes in the chorus, and the ultimate meaning of the song. This out of all the songs is the one I am most emotionally invested in. It's the only Christian song I have used, and it's the only one that made it into my second year of teaching. It's also the only song I have ever gotten a complaint about. Someone told me it was horrible and the message was not Christian and they couldn't believe I played it. I have to say, I was hurt. The song is a beautiful message of hope and the triumph we have over the misery of this world in Christ, expressed even when Matt Thiessen isn't singing and it's just the music. I open a part of myself to the students when I play this song for them.

In 8th grade this year I had the students take charge of the song-as-poetry aspect and had them bring in song lyrics. I didn't quite get to go where I wanted with this assignment because it's right when I got ill and spent some time in the ER and a lot of time at home recuperating. I was a little appalled with the vapidness of some of the songs that are really popular right now(Rihanna, Britney Spears) but one student impressed me by bringing in "Viva la Vida" by Coldplay. The idea was to analyze the lyrics in form, content, meaning, emotional impact, etc. but like I said, I didn't quite get to go there with them.

My students often ask me what my favorite band or favorite song is. I have such a hard time answering that. It needs so many qualifications. I could name a different band each time and I wouldn't be lying. It depends on the day, my mood, what I would choose to listen to that moment, all kinds of things.

My progression in taste in music is a pretty hilarious and sometimes sad journey, from Michael W. Smith and DCTalk to Snow Patrol and The Killers. I used to only listen to Christian radio. It's what my friends did. Then I started discovering Christian bands that they didn't really play on the radio. Dakoda Motor Company, Code of Ethics, a couple others. People told me they couldn't be Christian because they rocked too hard. That was my first inkling that most people's musical standards are 97% BS. Which is fine, just don't tell me that a band can't be Christian cuz you don't like it.

Then I got into MXPX and The Supertones. Someone told me they can't be Christian if you can't understand what they're saying. From there I got into Five Iron Frenzy, a brilliant and underrated ska band. As I got older and my friends were listening to Jaci Velasquez, I was discovering the wonderful world of Weezer, Green Day, Foo Fighters, and others. I was branching out by myself while those around me were rededicating their lives to Christ by committing to listening only to Christian music. I put my foot in my mouth one day in yearbook by loudly saying how stupid I thought that was, to be told later that the person I said it to had recently done just that.

My first concerts were the Christian ones. Michael W. Smith, Steven Curtis Chapman, DCTalk, Eric Champion. Out of Eden. My long suffering father would pack me and my silly friends in the van and drive us to Lakeland where we would eat at Steak and Shake before the show. He can't possibly have enjoyed all the music, which I realize now. Occasionally I bust out those CDs for fun and wonder what in the world I was thinking. In college I got to see MXPX, and the opening band was Good Charlotte. The next tour, to my chagrin, MXPX opened for Good Charlotte. I got to see The Mighty Mighty Bosstones once, which was more exciting in theory cuz the singer's voice is shot. At least I got to hear "The Rascal King" live. One of the last shows I got to go to was Delta Spirit and Matt Costa. Amazing voices, amazing musicians. Standing in a smoky, tiny bar scene downtown is quite a journey from the Lakeland days. But it's been a good journey.

Back to the issue of having a favorite. I don't know that this is even possible. Music is so broad. People that only listen to one genre and hold onto it like it's their sole definition as a person are missing out on so much. You can appreciate the brilliance of a song without necessarily liking it. Just because I recognize Mozart was a genius doesn't mean it's my favorite. My current song obsessions, which have lasted awhile ("Supermassive Black Hole" by Muse and "Give You Hell" by All-American Rejects) doesn't make them my favorite. In college I would have said my favorite band was MXPX. I still love them. They were my introduction to The Ramones through their cover of "The KKK Took My Baby Away." I started going backwards in time, listening to older punk, then back to Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and Queen. So, a favorite? Where does a person even start sifting to give that title to just one song?

William and I put together a playlist for Edward. We don't like most children's music. It's annoying, and the reason why little kids like it is circular. You play it for a kid cuz it's labeled as for kids, and if that's all you expose them too, of course that's what they'll like. So we're just not going to start with Barney Sings The Disney Channel's Most Saccharine Hits. We both put songs that we like on the list. It's as broad as both our tastes. There's Debussy, Bela Fleck, Louis Armstrong, REM, U2, Johnny Cash, Weezer, Soul Coughing, Dexy's Midnight Runners, Spin Doctors, and many others. Songs we love and we want our son to love, or at least appreciate. I don't want him to have a narrow perception of music, or to be like those people I knew that thought if it wasn't to their exact taste and arbitrary standard it was wrong, or in some cases, outright evil. It's a risk though. I don't want him to reject my music because it's rejecting a small part of me.

So what is it that makes us cry, smile, cringe, or turn the station when certain songs come on the radio? I know this entry went all over the place, but music is so interwoven into my life that it's reflective of my thoughts. I process by writing but I don't have an answer at the end of this... maybe I never will. But I'm going to enjoy listening while I try to figure it out.

40 weeks and counting

Today was my due date. I had a check-up; Edward is making progress! The latest from my doctor is that if I haven't given birth by Wednesday, I'm going in for a non-stress test and ultrasound. If everything is ok, I will schedule an inducement for later in the week. If anything is amiss, they will induce me right then. But he doesn't think I will make it til Wednesday. Inducing carries a higher risk for C-section, so of course the ideal would be to go into labor naturally, but the upshot is I will meet my son very soon, one way or another :)
To the many of you I know have been and are praying for me: thanks! And if I may ask it of you, please pray that I would go into labor naturally, and soon!

Rhubarb: reminiscence and a recipe

It’s odd, the objects or events that trigger the strongest memories. For me, it’s rhubarb. Every summer I look forward to the short season of good rhubarb. I love to eat it. My favorite is strawberry rhubarb pie. Every time I have ever bought rhubarb, a fellow customer or the check out person, or all of the above, see it in my cart, and say “OH! Rhubarb! What are you going to make? I love rhubarb!” My answer is usually “Pie,” always followed by “My Grandma taught me how to make it.” This, more than anything else that makes me think of her, makes me remember.

Several years ago I wanted to make my first strawberry rhubarb pie but hadn’t the first clue about how to make rhubarb, so I emailed my grandma. She sent me an easy recipe, which I made, and it’s now the touchstone for all my rhubarb dessert recipes. She passed a lot of things on to me, intellectually, materially, and emotionally, but this for some reason is a stand-out. It may be that the ones who ask me about it in the grocery store are all older, or it may be that I have her passion for trying new things, or that cooking is a love of mine and I like to think I also got that from her. Or all those things.

I spent many hours emailing with her even though she lived in town. It was fun. I think if she were alive she’d have a facebook. During my college and seminary years I’d go visit with her at her house. She’d scold me if I needed it, laugh with/at me, pump me for the latest gossip, we’d talk about movies, if I’d been on a trip lately I’d show her my pictures, then we’d get in her T-bird and go to lunch. As my mom’s mom, she’d give me a perspective on my parents I’d never thought of. When she was ailing in a rehab facility, we kept it up as best we could.

Florence Marvin died in March of 2005, one month before I turned 24 and got engaged, 7 months before I got married. Every life event, every trip I take, every good movie I see, is always tinged with the thought “but I can’t tell Grandma about it.”

So yesterday, when I bought rhubarb, the cashier asked me what I was going to make with my rhubarb. I told her my answer, “Strawberry rhubarb pie… my grandma taught me how to make it.” An elderly man was bagging my groceries and he told me how his mom and aunt LOVE rhubarb but I should have an extra slice for him because he doesn’t like it. Helping me out, we talked about how my baby is due on Friday, how it’s my first, and how excited my husband and I are.

Tomorrow my son is due to be born. Whether he will be “on time” remains to be seen. I wish so much that my grandma was here to meet her 5th great-grandchild. I think she’d like his name. I think she’d laugh at me for the amount of food I’ve been making and eating this week just because I’m bored. But most of all, I hope she’d be proud of me.

Here is her simple recipe:

Preheat oven to 350. Rinse, dry, and slice as much rhubarb as you’re making into bite size pieces. Put in a pan in a single layer. Sprinkle liberally with sugar. Bake until tender, checking after 10 minutes.

To make my pie I make the rhubarb, let it cool, slice fresh strawberries into a pie crust, top with rhubarb, then add more strawberries. Sometimes I leave it at that. Sometimes I add cool whip and/or strawberry glaze. Today I added cinnamon to the rhubarb before baking. It’s gonna be good.

The latest on Sophia: please pray.

Hello,

Everything with Sophia is relatively the same, which is good. However, we just want to ask that everyone pray for her feeding.

They are giving her bolis feeds, which is through her feeding tube, instead of being on a continuous drip. She gets a larger amount of food in a shorter amount of time, around every three hours, just like when a normal baby would eat. This is the final step to conquer before trying feeding by mouth.

At first, she was handling the bolis feeds well, but when they increased the amount of food she was eating she began to spit up a few times and has become very fussy during and around the times of her feeds. They slowed down her feeds, meaning, instead of getting 60cc's over a 45 minute time period, she gets the same amount over a 2hour time period. They hoped she would tolerate this, but today she spit up again. She only spits up a very small amount, and it could just be normal baby spit up, but the alarming thing is that she seems to be gaging a bit and this could be a sign of reflux. Also, it is hard to see her be fussy for long periods of time.

Please pray that she will be able to tolerate her bolis feeds. We are really hoping she will be able to tolerate these feeds so that she can move on to mouth feeding. They cancelled her GI test, which determines if she is a "safe Feeder" by mouth, because she has to show she can tolerate bolis feeds first. It is just hard because she has progressed so much and we had hoped that she would be able to come home this week. Of course, we have not given up hope, and she does have a very suck on her pacifier, which is a good sign for mouth feeding, but if she can't tolerate bolis feeds then we won't really get to test out mouth feeding.

We are gratful no matter what that she has improved overall, and even if we have to wait a bit longer and she has to come home with a g-tube instead of feeding by mouth, we will be happy. But of course we pray for the best, and we pray that the doctors and nurses will have great wisdom in the decisions they make and that she will tolerate these bolis feeds.

Sophia needs to tolerate her feeds for 24 hours at least before they can move to the next step so please think of her over these next few days.

Also, she has an echo scheduled for tomorrow to look at her heart. Please pray that we continue to see less regurgitation, or even that her heart is totally healed.

Thank you so much for weathering these ups and downs with us.

Love,
Samuel, Benita, and Sophia

Chalk one up for Jesus...?

I would like to preface this entry by saying that I know it will tick some of you off. And I’m sorry. Kind of. I’m still working out why this bothers me so much and maybe by the end of my entry I’ll know the answer… feedback is welcome.

A couple weeks ago I watched somewhat disinterestedly as 2 very different styles of singers waited to find out which of them was the next American Idol. I liked both Adam and Kris, along with several other contestants, and didn’t care who won as long as it wasn’t Gokey. Leading up to the finale, all the articles I read in entertainment magazines or online were drawing the final showdown as if it would be between Adam and Gokey, and staging it as Gay America vs. Bible Thumpers. Apparently there are pictures online of Adam kissing boys… who knows, I didn’t look. Because I don’t care. And Danny Gokey was a music minister or something. I read one article that was incredibly pretentious about how Adam should come out of the closet and win the culture war for the gay community and how all their hopes and dreams are pinned on him winning American Idol and he’s doing such a disservice by not owning the fact that he’s gay. And if he didn’t come out, then even if he was the next American Idol, those bigoted Bible thumpers WIN. And if you’re gay, and not voting for Adam, then you are betraying all your gay friends, even if you like the other guy’s singing voice better. Danny got voted out, to my delight, during the semi finals and it was Adam vs. Kris. After Kris won, I found out that Kris was a Christian too. I had no idea until someone I know was horrified that a friend of mine and I liked Adam Lambert, when the other guy was a Christian and that’s who I should have been supporting, just because he was a Christian. Now the other side (my team, if you will) was putting this in terms of this being a victory for Christianity in America. I read an interview with Kris post-win asking him about this cultural war and how it affected him and Adam. His response was to point out that it’s stupid to act like they can’t be friends or genuinely happy for each other. They’re both going to have recording contracts and make lots of money.

So here’s the deal. I get that it’s exciting when fellow Christians meet with some level of success. But it’s really stupid for either side to act like this is some kind of reflection of the moral state of America, or that somehow Jesus is more in control because a Christian won a singing contest. Or that it’s a failure for gay rights that Adam didn’t come out publicly OR win the show. I think that both sides are misguided for thinking that a vote for their guy was somehow doing something to take a stand for their side. Does either side really think that the gay community ISN’T involved in the entertainment industry already? Do gays not have the right to live in peace since Adam lost? Was Jesus really up in heaven sweating the outcome of this season’s American Idol? I think so many people want to think that Kris winning is somehow a moral victory for Christianity because by voting they had a part in it, without actually having to take a stand. It’s lazy and it feels good. They just get to sit in their living room, call Adam a queer, and feel like they’re standing up for the Kingdom by not voting for him. It’s much easier than actually getting to know someone who is desperately lost, learning the balance between loving a sinner and hating their sin, respecting their right as an American to do pretty much whatever they want, while holding fast to the fact that as a creation of God, they should not do whatever they want (and neither should we.) I hope Adam and Kris are both successful. They’re both talented. They both worked hard. While homosexuality is very clearly a condemned behavior scripturally, loving your enemies is very clearly commanded. I hate to even use that word, but both sides have drawn those lines over a stupid TV show. So, if you were anti Adam because he may or may not have kissed a boy… pray for him. Do something. Let’s not be like the world, pretending like voting on a reality show means anything.

The Magic of Old

With the Magic not stinking it up this year, there are a lot of fans with renewed interest in them. I was just talking to a friend about that. I went to some games last year and I'll always say I'm a Magic fan, but it hasn't been as exciting as it has been this year. It feels a little bandwagonish but it's not. Then I got to talking with my husband about how the NBA has changed. Yeah there were superstars back in the day but it was still about the team.

I've been going to Magic games since our coach was Matt Guokas, and our line up was guys like Terry Catledge, Dennis Scott, Jeff Turner, Scott Skiles, and Nick Anderson. Winning a game by any margin was an accomplishment. But it was still fun. I would eat Skittles and cheer my little heart out for those guys. Stuff would come out and get the crowd pumped, the Fat Guy would run around the O-rena with his signs, drenched in sweat and team spirit. Those were the days.

Then we got Shaq. Championship hopes were real... but he didn't get a ring and he left. Then we got Anfernee Hardaway. Same deal. Tracey McGrady. Same deal.

Back then, when I was munching Skittles and watching my beloved Magic lose pretty much every game, the atmosphere was different in the NBA. The superstars were heroes, not tatted up thugs. Larry Bird and the Celtics, Michael Jordan and the Bulls, Karl Malone and the Jazz, David Robinson and the Spurs, Charles Barkley and the Suns. The key there is "and the." That seems to be lacking these days. Take the Bulls. You took away Michael Jordan, you still had Scottie Pippen, Horace Grant, Steve Kerr (who used to be with us and stunk, then went to Chicago and was amazing.) You had a TEAM worth watching.

Today, we have, for instance, LeBron James. Kobe Bryant. Not "and the Cavs" or "and the Lakers." Just the one guy, trying to get his championship ring and being a brat if they don't get it. Take away LeBron, what do you have? Floppy haired whiney guys and thugs. (Ok, Mo isn't terrible, but still...) But look at the Magic. Take away Dwight Howard, and what do you have? Pietrus. Turkoglu. Lewis. A TEAM worth watching and supporting. So whether they win big or blow it, next season should find me in the stands, eating Skittles and cheering for my guys. See you there.

oh baby

I just read that since I'm 37 weeks my baby could come any day now. Last week someone told me that stress can bring on labor, just in time for me to collect and try to grade 94 research papers. William is praying that at my doctor's appointment today we will find that I'm dilated; my boss is praying that I won't go until June 2, 2:00 when our last teacher workday is done. As long as the research papers are graded I'm up for anything. Everybody has an opinion on when I'm gonna pop. Sometimes it's like being in a fishbowl but it's been fun. My only other goal before Edward makes his debut is to blog about the overwhelming love and support we have had, even from people we don't know.

In all the baby talk I've found myself discussing things I never thought I would with others, though sometimes I remind myself to draw a line. Case in point: last week I had my check up in the morning and went back to work in the afternoon. Everyone who saw me asked how it went. My question in my head in response was always, "well that depends how much you really want to know about my cervix." So there we go. I have another doctor appointment this afternoon. I'll keep you posted.

poetry in motion

I am currently having my 7th and 8th graders working on some of my favorite assignments for them in poetry. The seventh graders are entering the wonderful world of modern poetry through e. e. cummings, studying “next to of course god america i.” In groups they are coming up with arguments on the side that the poem is pro-America and pro-war and then the flip side, that it is anti-America and anti-war. The next step is a debate. They don’t know what side they are arguing til the day of. Last year it was one of the most memorable and engaging classes we had all year, which is much to the credit of the caliber of student I am privileged to teach. I’m excited for it again this year. My 8th graders just studied Langston Hughes’ “Theme for English B.” We talked about his life, how this poem is autobiographical, and what it means to define oneself. Today, they are actually dealing with that question on paper. Last year I got some amazing papers in terms of honesty, thoughtfulness, and fair dealing with the question. I have read some of this year’s answers already and am equally impressed. One irony is that some of the students are asking each other to help define themselves. Telling, I think. That most of these students are willing to deal thoughtfully with such a hard question in middle school is, to me, hope for the future. I hope they don’t lose the willingness to be introspective and honest, and I hope that other people challenge them to rise to what I know they are capable of.

e.e. cummings

"next to of course god america i
love you land of the pilgrims' and so forth oh
say can you see by the dawn's early my
country tis of centuries come and go
and are no more what of it we should worry
in every language even deafanddumb
thy sons acclaim your glorious name by gorry
by jingo by gee by gosh by gum
why talk of beauty what could be more beaut-
iful than these heroic happy dead
who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter
they did not stop to think they died instead
then shall the voice of liberty be mute?"

He spoke. And drank rapidly a glass of water


THEME FOR ENGLISH B

By Langston Hughes

The instructor said,
Go home and write
a page tonight.
And let that page come out of you---
Then, it will be true.
I wonder if it's that simple?
I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem.
I went to school there, then Durham, then here
to this college on the hill above Harlem.
I am the only colored student in my class.
The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem
through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas,
Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y,
the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator
up to my room, sit down, and write this page:
It's not easy to know what is true for you or me
at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I'm what
I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you:
hear you, hear me---we two---you, me, talk on this page.
(I hear New York too.) Me---who?
Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.
I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.
I like a pipe for a Christmas present,
or records---Bessie, bop, or Bach.
I guess being colored doesn't make me NOT like
the same things other folks like who are other races.
So will my page be colored that I write?
Being me, it will not be white.
But it will be
a part of you, instructor.
You are white---
yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.
That's American.
Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
But we are, that's true!
As I learn from you,
I guess you learn from me---
although you're older---and white---
and somewhat more free.

This is my page for English B.

Cultural comment...

I just watched a clip of Susan Boyle singing on Britain's Got Talent. She's the new internet sensation... her voice is fantastic, to apparently everybody's surprise. Why is it surprising? Because she's 47 and plain looking. You don't have to be beautiful to be talented? I NEVER KNEW!

Why do they call it "Good"?

"As Jesus started on his way, a man ran up to him and fell on his knees before him. 'Good teacher,' he asked, 'what must I do to inherit eternal life?'
'Why do you call me good?' Jesus answered. 'No one is good—except God alone. You know the commandments: 'Do not murder, do not commit adultery, do not steal, do not give false testimony, do not defraud, honor your father and mother.'" Mark 10:17-19 The man goes on to claim that he has kept all these laws, a notion Jesus quickly dismantles.

Today is Good Friday, which seems somewhat ironically named. It is the day Christians all over the world especially remember the day our Savior was spit upon, beaten brutally, mocked, abandoned by His friends, made to carry a heavy beam on His open wounds, crowned with thorns, and nailed to a cross. So far, so... good? The sun turned black. The earth shook. Graves opened. Truly this was the Son of God.

Why is it good? Someone asked me that a few years ago and I have to admit my answer was lame. I said it was because of the death and resurrection being the Good News for all people. Which it undoubtedly is, but the epiphany I just had was that that is barely the whole story. Jesus' death wasn't about me. It was about God.

In Bible study last night, one of the questions was about the definition of the word "transgression" and what that means in terms of God's law, and its implications for us. The word as used in the Scripture means to cross a boundary. Take a quick journey with me back to the beginning of the redemptive history found in the Bible... God created Adam and Eve and gave them one rule. One boundary. "Don't eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil... the day you eat of it you will surely die." We know the drill. Eve ate. Adam ate. God kept His promise. Death entered the world... humankind was not good anymore. But with judgment, there was hope. God provided for their shame by killing an animal, the first death we see in the Bible, which shows both God's deep love for His people but also the gravity of sin. The only thing that can cover sin and its ramifications is death. Adam and Eve couldn't do it themselves; it was done for them by God. In that same part of Genesis, God administers curses but also the promise of great victory in Jesus.

"And I will put enmity
between you and the woman,
and between your offspring and hers;
he will crush your head,
and you will strike his heel."

The rest of the Old Testament shows the vicious cycle humanity has been in ever since: sin, judgment, sacrifice. Rinse and repeat. The hopelessness of humankind without God's provision. God's covenant with Israel, with the promises of blessings for obedience and curses for disobedience. God's patience as Israel whored themselves with other gods over and over. We also see God's promise to Abraham, but the way this covenant went down looks a little different. In Genesis 15 God reminds Abraham of His promises to make Abraham a great nation, with descendants too numerous to count. As assurance, God had Abraham cut animals in half, and then God Himself passed through the middle while Abraham watched. In that time, covenants were made in this way but both parties passed between the pieces to signify that if they broke the deal, then let that same fate happen to them. God took this on all by Himself. God is the one who does the work, not Abraham. God proves in His law that we can in no way keep it. We can't earn God's favor. No one is good except God alone.

That brings us to the New Testament.

"An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.'" Luke 2:9-11

Simple verses we hear all the time at Christmas, but frought with deep theological significance. The response of these shepherds in the field when faced with the glory of God was not "Oh look at the pretty angel!" It was abject terror. Any time God shows His glory to people in the Bible it is the same response. God's holiness compared to our sin shows us what we know deep down. We're toast. But again, with judgment comes hope. The angel tells them not to be afraid but gives them the reason why they don't have to fear God's holiness anymore. Christ the Lord, the Savior, has been born.

Jesus, fully God and fully man, born to live in perfect obedience where we can not. All those laws in the OT? Fulfilled. The law given in the NT, to love the Lord your God with all your heart, and your neighbor as yourself? Done. But the perfect obedience of Christ by itself doesn't save. There is still a problem. The wages of sin is death. God is just. His justice demands death to pay for our transgressions, just like in the Garden of Eden. That has not changed. God did not abrogate Himself. He is a God of love, but also of justice and of wrath. Jesus lived a perfect life, then underwent judgment. His crime, as posted above His head on the cross? Being the King of the Jews. The King of Abraham's people, the children of promise. God promised to take the punishment of any covenant breaking on Himself. God didn't break any rules. Yet all the wrath owed to all believers, throughout time and throughout the earth, was poured out by God onto His only Son our Lord. It's easy to flippantly say that Jesus died for my sins. Yeah He did. He died for my sins, but it wasn't just a simple death. It was taking God's anger in my place. And Adam's place. And Eve's place. And Moses' place. And David's place. And Abraham's place. And your place. How many believers have their been in the thousands of years humanity has been stumbling blindly around this earth?

Christ lived a perfect life and He died. But that is not enough either.

"Or don't you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. If we have been united with him like this in his death, we will certainly also be united with him in his resurrection. For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be done away with,that we should no longer be slaves to sin— because anyone who has died has been freed from sin. Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him. The death he died, he died to sin once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God." Romans 6:3-10

Two days from now we remember Easter, the day Christ rose victorious over sin and death. We are baptized into His death. It's not fair, but it's just as if we have already received the death we are owed for our sin. We died with Christ, and we live with Christ. We no longer need to shrink in terror from God's holiness. It's the best news we could hear. It's truly good news. But it's not about us. In the first passage, Jesus points out some significant things: The young man is tragically misguided if he thinks he's good enough for God. Jesus is Himself God, and no one is good but God. Good Friday is about God's goodness. Where does that leave us? How do we respond to that? Here are some questions from the Westminster Shorter Catechism.

Q. 84. What doth every sin deserve?
A. Every sin deserveth God’s wrath and curse, both in this life, and that which is to come.

Q. 85. What doth God require of us, that we may escape his wrath and curse, due to us for sin?
A. To escape the wrath and curse of God, due to us for sin, God requireth of us faith in Jesus Christ, repentance unto life, with the diligent use of all the outward means whereby Christ communicateth to us the benefits of redemption.

Q. 86. What is faith in Jesus Christ?
A. Faith in Jesus Christ is a saving grace, whereby we receive and rest upon him alone for salvation, as he is offered to us in the gospel.

Q. 87. What is repentance unto life?
A. Repentance unto life is a saving grace, whereby a sinner, out of a true sense of his sin, and apprehension of the mercy of God in Christ, doth, with grief and hatred of his sin, turn from it unto God, with full purpose of, and endeavor after, new obedience.


May this Easter season bring rest. Rest in Him alone. Let us forget our own goodness. It doesn't exist anyway. But let us all be refreshed in that knowledge, because otherwise we would have received the punishment Christ took. Let us strive after new obedience, today, and always, that we may prove our high calling to the world and as we look forward to heaven together. Amen.

a hymn for holy week

This is not a traditional Easter hymn by any means, but it has great application for why the incarnation and resurrection matter. It's one of my favorite hymns of all time, based on my favorite Psalm, and was written by Martin Luther. This is a slightly more modern version of his original hymn.

From depths of woe I raise to Thee
The voice of lamentation;
Lord, turn a gracious ear to me
And hear my supplication;
If Thou iniquities dost mark,
Our secret sins and misdeeds dark,
O who shall stand before Thee?

To wash away the crimson stain,
Grace, grace alone availeth;
Our works, alas! are all in vain;
In much the best life faileth:
No man can glory in Thy sight,
All must alike confess Thy might,
And live alone by mercy.

Therefore my trust is in the Lord,
And not in mine own merit;
On Him my soul shall rest, His Word
Upholds my fainting spirit:
His promised mercy is my fort,
My comfort, and my sweet support;
I wait for it with patience.

What though I wait the livelong night,
And till the dawn appeareth,
My heart still trusteth in His might;
It doubteth not nor feareth:
Do thus, O ye of Israel's seed,
Ye of the Spirit born indeed;
And wait till God appeareth.

Though great our sins and sore our woes,
His grace much more aboundeth;
His helping love no limit knows,
Our utmost need it soundeth.
Our Shepherd good and true is He,
Who will at last His Israel free.
From all their sin and sorrow

A field guide to teachers

Teach"er\, n. 1. One who teaches or instructs; one whose business or occupation is to instruct others; an instructor; a tutor.

Most often found in the traditional construct of a school, teachers can come from any variety of background. Some students fear them in their natural habitat but this is most often unnecessary. In most cases, a productive and peaceful coexistence is desired by both parties and is perfectly achievable when the student follows certain educational, ethical, and proprietary guidelines.

EDUCATIONAL ADVICE

1. When a teacher has spent hours total in class explaining an assignment, giving examples, taking questions, and given the student weeks to do said assignment, the student is advised against saying to the teacher on the day before it is due, or the day it is due, any statement similar to the following: “I didn’t understand what we were supposed to do.”

2. When a teacher has given lesson plans well in advance, a separate sheet with due date reminders for a particular assignment, and reminded students in advance, the student is advised against saying to the teacher any statement similar to the following: “I didn’t know it was due today.”

3. Other phrases to avoid: “I didn’t know it was supposed to be typed.” “I don’t have it, is that ok?” “Can I turn it in tomorrow?” “My printer broke last night so I couldn’t do it” “I was busy this weekend and couldn’t do my assignment.”

Failure to follow these guidelines can lead to the following adverse affects on the teacher: irritation/annoyance, anger, an odd color change in the face area, shortness of breath, and/or apoplexy. In turn, the teacher may turn momentarily hostile to the student. If this situation should happen to you, apologize sincerely and back away slowly.

ETHICAL ADVICE

1. When a teacher has warned against any particular sources or methods in garnering research, they usually have good reason. A student can ask why, but don’t argue about it.

2. If this situation occurs, the student may think he/she is being clever by trying it anyway. When a teacher is crossed in this manner in their natural habitat, this often leads to dire consequences for the student, including, but not limited to, a suffering grade, the lack of respect from the teacher, and a trip to the appropriate authority’s lair/office.

3. If the student should happen to decide that they are going to plagiarize or cheat in some other way, he/she should not act surprised when the teacher catches it. Teachers are highly attuned creatures when it comes to authenticity of work. If you should find yourself in this situation, the worst possible reaction you could have is denial. Follow these steps: confess, apologize, and volunteer yourself for a trip to the appropriate authority’s lair/office. (The teacher will send the student there anyway; it’s better for the student’s well-being if they don’t make the teacher say it.)

4. The student should remember that in this case “an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure.” The teacher is much, much savvier than the student. The student will get caught.

PROPRIETARY ADVICE

1. When approaching a teacher in his or her natural habitat, do not disrupt them in any of the following circumstances: they are striding purposefully down the hall, they have their head bent over papers or computer before school hours, or they are talking to another student/teacher/parent already.

2. If it is an appropriate time to approach a teacher, meaning they are not clearly occupied with other tasks or people, the student is advised to make sure he/she is not about to ask the teacher the following: any questions pertaining to topics already discussed, a question that another student just asked, or a question that has been answered on a hand-out of directions that the student has had in their possession for several days.

3. When the student sees a teacher at any time, the student is advised to make eye contact and offer an appropriate greeting. These can include, but are not limited to, a smile, the words “Good morning”, “How are you doing,” “Can I carry that” and/or “Let me get the door for you.”

4. When the student is leaving a classroom, the student is advised to say the following: “Thank you.”

Failure to follow these simple guidelines may lead the teacher to garner the irreparable impression that the student is a tool. Also, in using the guidelines, the student must be sincere. Teachers are well-adapted to smelling bull. “Bull” includes, but is not limited to, the following: Greetings in an unnaturally high voice, insincere compliments, smiles that drop as soon as the student thinks the teacher isn’t looking anymore and/or eye-rolling when the student thinks the teacher isn’t looking anymore.

CLOSING ADVICE

Students are also advised that in this technological day and age, they need to remember that if they are facebook friends with their teachers, then the teachers can see everything they are saying about school. Teachers are more adaptable to cultural changes than most students give them credit for. If the student wishes to successfully navigate through the teachers’ natural habitat, he/she must remember to work hard, be polite, and not ask dim questions. If the student fails to follow these guidelines and find himself in trouble, he shouldn’t panic. Just remember that sincerity goes a long way, as does chocolate, compliments, and the simple words “I’m sorry.”

DC days 3 and 4 part 2

Then we went to the Portrait Gallery. It wasn’t what I was expecting. I thought it was going to be all portraits of famous people throughout history and that it was going to be all paintings. I don’t have a reason for thinking that; it’s just what I got into my head. It wasn’t like that at all for the first few exhibits. Some were random photos of ordinary people, many of which I did not “get”. There were also big black and whites of celebrities, but they were all previously published or taken originally for magazines. I wasn’t sure what the appeal was there either. “Oh look, a giant photo of a famous person’s face!” Then we got to the historical portraits. There were paintings of influential theologians, politicians, philosophers, inventors, movers and shakers. These, I liked. But I hit my wall shortly after the discovery of the interesting part of the museum and I couldn’t do anything else.

We started off Sunday by going to the 9/11 memorial at the Pentagon. It’s right by where the plane crashed into the building. The memorial is a sea of what look kind of like angled benches that are reminiscent of airplane wings. I’m curious to find out now who designed it and what the significance is of the shape they chose. Even though there is no color in the memorial, it reminded me of a garden. The ground is gravel, the cement wings are coming out of the ground, and there are trees but they were all budless and bloomless and gray-brown. Each bench is in a line with others, radiating from a plaque with a year on it. Some benches point toward the Pentagon building, and some point away from the building. A guard explained the significance of all of it to us. The year is when the person whose name is on the bench was born. If the name was on the end of the bench facing the Pentagon, they were on the plane. If the name was facing out, they were in the Pentagon. Under each bench is a little pool. If the person had family on the plane, the other family member’s names were on a plaque on the bottom of the little pool. Each member has their own memorial bench in line with the year they were born. I walked around the plaques, looking for the year I was born. The years jump from 1990 to 1979. An entire generation was spared death in that particular attack.

Someone had put a flower on one of the benches. It was a striking dark orange color; the only color in the place. I took pictures but they don’t capture how beautiful it made the whole memorial… just the one flower. Looking at the Pentagon, you can see where the plane hit because the new section of the wall is clean. It’s distinctly lighter than the sections on either side. Even that is a memorial, to me. It was symbolic of the will to go on, the determination of America to carry on as normal, as well as the loss of that day, and the refusal of the people in the Pentagon to be cowed.

We saw the Jefferson and Lincoln memorials after that. It was a ton of walking. It’s a long way between the two, so we got glimpses of other memorials in between. Even with the giganticness of the statues, I think Lincoln’s is much more human than Jefferson’s. The way Abe is sitting communicates that yes he accomplished major things, and here he is enthroned for our memory and admiration, but then you look closely. He has one hand clenched in a fist, one hand open. One foot is firmly planted, and the other is sticking out, like he was thinking about slouching down for a minute. He’s just a man, after all, but with the right skills at the right time to change the country.

Sunday night I just hung out at the hotel while William went on a night tour with most of our group. The few of us left had a good time getting caught up on who did what during the day. I wish we could stay longer in DC. There’s so much to see… and I’ll see it next year.

DC days 3 and 4 part 1

Saturday we started the day off by going to the American History museum. They had so many exhibits, just like all the museums here, that my little group barely scratched the surface before we’d had enough of the crowds and moved on. What we did get to see was pretty cool. We went through a technology exhibit, mostly dedicated to Thomas Edison. (Who was a thug, but no one ever mentions that part.) It was interesting to see the development of electricity and see the change in efficiency and size over time. There were all kinds of light bulbs, circuits, an electric marshmallow toaster, an early model vacuum cleaner, electric socks, and vintage signs touting the value of whatever new products were out. One of the things that stood out the most to me was how the ads were drawn along traditional/stereotypical gender lines. An ad for a softer-light casting light bulb was all about how the woman of the house doesn’t want harsh light, but harsh doesn’t mean dim, and how homier and softer this light bulb would make the home.

We also saw Julia Child’s kitchen. It was a really small exhibit and very crowded. Her cooking videos were playing, tidbits about her life and contributions were posted around the room, and you could look into the kitchen area but not go in. We also saw a war exhibit. It was so packed we decided to go in the exit and work our way backwards so we didn’t have to wait to get in. It was actually a neat way to do it, working back from what I in my short life have experienced in the news and from people I knew who served in the war, to wars that I know only what I have read in history books. The exhibit started with information on the current war against terror, with information on the 9/11 attacks and pieces of steel bars from the towers. The section on Vietnam was a curious commentary on how much television began to play a part in foreign affairs. There wasn’t a mention of media bias or anything like that, of course. There were plenty of pictures of the anti-war movement and anti-war propaganda posters. The contrast between this and the WWII section was stark. The pro-war, pro-America propaganda was so overblown some of it was inadvertently funny. However, both exhibits were such reminders that people in general are much more influenced by propaganda materials than they even know, or would ever care to admit. Repetition of message is a powerful tool in getting people to follow what you want them to. Hitler knew it. Roosevelt knew it. Hope and change!

We also watched a little movie about the wars. It showed clips from the more recent ones, and artistic renderings of the older ones, with voice-overs from actual survivors, including John McCain, veterans’ family members, or readings of letters and famous quotes from the wars, starting with the American Revolution. William referred to this the rest of the day as the “crying movie” since Carrie, Joy, and I were all bawling by the time it was over. To be reminded of the reality of the storming of Normandy, to see the crosses marking our soldiers in cemeteries all over the world, and to think of all the families who never saw their father/husband/brother/son/friend again, was overwhelming.
Once we left the museum, we hopped on the Metro to Chinatown for lunch. The food was great; the service was terrible. Not much else to say about that :)

Washington, DC 2009 Day 1 and 2 continued

After that most of us went into the House chamber. It wasn’t in session but it was still awesome to go in there. Looking down where the “action” is was impressive by itself, but then a police guard came in to answer questions and tell us all about the symbolism and rituals of the place. Surrounding the upper walls are a series of reliefs of the faces of lawmakers that influenced the founding of US law. Only 2 of them are Americans: James Mason and Thomas Jefferson. All the faces are looking to the side, leading toward where the Speaker of the House stands, except for one. Moses is facing straight forward, looking directly at the Speaker’s podium. It made me wonder if any of the reps ever look up at his face and ponder the significance of being duty bound to protect the people in terms of God’s law. I’m gonna guess no. Our police guard, Carmen, explained that the Speaker stands at the top, and that if ever the President comes in to talk, he stands on the second tier, and he can’t come into the Chamber unless he is specifically invited. She also told us that, from our perspective looking down, the Democrats sit on the left and the Republicans on the right, and it is because the Democrats’ political party is older. If the President enters, he has to walk up the center aisle to approach the podium. He can’t show favoritism symbolically by entering from his party’s side of the room. Besides the symbolism, the guard told us quite a few other intriguing bits. As she quizzed the students on who was our current Speaker of the House, and one of the boys answered correctly that it was Nancy Pelosi, one of the moms asked if there was an exciting vibe in the room when Pelosi first took the podium as speaker. The guide’s answer was “I don’t like her. But she got a standing ovation.” Our group assured her that we don’t like her either, and Carmen went on to explain why she doesn’t like her. Carmen told us that she likes to say good morning and greet all the Representatives she sees, and when she greets Nancy Pelosi, Nancy keeps her head down and ignores her like she’s not there, and Carmen has zero respect for that. I thought that was very telling, and also, I’m pretty sure that I’d do everything I could to make sure that the people who are in charge of my protection and taking a bullet for me if necessary didn’t think I was a jerk. She told us about Cynthia McKinney, the rep. who attacked a police officer, and how stupid she thought it was that McKinney tried to make it about race, when it was about the officer doing his job. Each rep. has an id card; all they have to do is pull it out and show it. The officers can’t just take your word for it, especially if they don’t recognize you. Carmen also told us of the procedural issues. When there are debates, each side gets 30 minutes. There are rules of conduct: you can’t go overtime, you can’t cuss, you can’t yell, and if you do you’ll get brought up on ethics charges. She also hilariously told us that when the representatives refer to “my friend across the aisle” was they really mean is “you ***hole.”. She was so genial, as were several of the guards, but they are always on duty, as shown when a member of our group yelled rather loudly. Her hand immediately went to her gun, and every empty entry way was instantly filled with a guard, hand on gun. Their reaction time and control over the situation was incredible. After the Capitol, the group got to do whatever they wanted the rest of the day. Several of us meandered to a café by the Sculpture Garden for a snack and sitting break. Everyone except William and me went on to do other things. We walked around looking at the statues, most of which were just weird and pointless, before heading back to the hotel.

To be seen today: US History Museum, China Town, Portrait Gallery.

Washington, DC 2009 Day 1 and 2

We arrived in DC around 11 AM Thursday morning and checked in, settled in, took our laptops and waited in the lobby for everyone else to arrive. Getting to greet everyone felt like a reunion even though we all just saw each other on Tuesday at school. The excitement was a good tone to start the trip. After everyone arrived, I went to swim, which was GREAT. I did several laps and then floated around; it was the first time in weeks my back hasn’t hurt. At 7:00 the group of 70 kids and parents gathered in our conference room for dinner and announcements. The students quickly dispersed after dinner but the grown-ups lingered for awhile. It is so refreshing to have grown-up talk after spending all day every day teaching adolescents. (Love ‘em, but it’s nice to talk to adults.)

Friday morning was our Capitol building tour. The tour was supposed to start at 9:40, so we got on the Metro at 8:15. Part of my responsibilities as a group leader is to make sure my group understands the Metro. William led the way down to the platform while I waited for my group to pass, reminding everyone to stand on the right side of the escalator so the commuters could rush down the left. Getting 24 people unfamiliar with the Metro system to stay together and then get on the right train is a little like herding cats. After the first stop, we somehow ended up with a couple people from another of our school’s group. How they ended up with us, we don’t know. However, all 70 people made it without major incident to the front of the Capitol. Then the fun really began. Joy, our intrepid leader, set off to try to find where we were supposed to be. We knew we were supposed to enter through the new visitor center, but there is absolutely no signage anywhere indicating the entrance. Turns out, it’s after a twisty sidewalk on the backside of the Capitol, down some stairs, still with no signs. Then we went through security: no food, no drinks, no liquids of any kind, and no pointy objects. Many people had packed water and snacks for the entire day and had to throw them away, some had antibacterial spray, and William had to chuck his money clip because it has a blade. After getting everyone through security, we had to go down another flight of steps, and then Joy and William got in line to check in and get our tour going. Time: 9:43. Tour: cancelled. The boy at the front desk offered our group 8 tickets for the 1:30 tour to make up for it. Fortunately, a supervisor came over and told us we could get in the 10:10 and distributed our stickers for it. Except for the part where they didn’t give us enough so Joy couldn’t go on the tour, the supervisor handled it well. But seriously, why would the cancel a tour of 70 people? Surely there is a better system of handling groups that have been in the building for 30 minutes, just not able to get downstairs to check in. Either that or they could put some flippin’ signs up so tour groups will actually know how to get to the visitor center without having to wander around the perimeter of the place. At about 10:40, our tour finally started. After being handled fairly incompetently by the visitor center staff, a couple workers had the audacity to bark at us to hurry up and get into the movie room that starts the tour. Really? We have to stand there for an hour because you are inefficient and incompetent, and then you’re going to yell at us? Yeah, no. The movie was interesting, at least. Then we went into another big room to stand in another line, where some of our group got shunted off to join some other people, and most of us got in another line, where a random Japanese couple was somehow among our number. Our tour guide, Ron, was fantastic. He made up for the annoyance of the morning. He was enthusiastic, extremely knowledgeable, and addressed the students directly instead of the adults, which I appreciated. He explained the apotheosis of Washing, the painting in the rotunda, pointing out the Greek gods and goddesses imparting wisdom to the US leaders. He told us all about the painting and statues, where they came from, and the controversies around what statue and of whom went where in the building. He demonstrated the whisper room, which even though I’ve heard it several times, never gets old. Although the tour was short, it was super informative. Then we ate lunch in the new café, and it was delicious, albeit overpriced.

Watchmen: a commentary

Disclaimer: Because of the graphic violence and the profusion of nekkidness in this movie, I can not in good conscience recommend it to anyone. So please don't take my critique as an endorsement. It's rated "R" for good cause. But, the violence and nudity weren't pointless. Just gratuitous.

"Who's Watching the Watchmen?" This question is graffitied on the wall in a city that has rebelled against the idea of vigilantes/costumed superheroes. The movie follows the lives of a small band of washed-up vigilantes, some trying to live normal lives, some clinging to their crime-fighting ways. After the murder of one of their own, the movie then proceeds to flash back and forth from the characters' past back to the movie's present day. The main character is a masked man named Rorschach. He hates the filth that the people of the city live in. He's one of the few that still clings to the past, even though their way of fighting crime has been outlawed. He is convinced that someone is coming after the old masked heroes and he is going to get to the bottom of it. Along the way, we find out his disturbing past. He was abused as a child, his mother was a whore, and now his sole purpose in life is to punish evildoers. He hates fornicators, thieves, and murderers. He is the most ethically consistent character in that he acts, always, according to his own moral code. One of the most disturbing scenes in the movie is when we see his character on the night he, in his own words, loses his human identity and solely becomes Rorschach, the crime fighter. He tracks down a child molester/kidnapper/killer, kills the man's dogs, and then brutally kills the man. This scene, though I had to look away, was really thought provoking. How many of us have thought at some point that jail time or a quick painless execution is too good for those evil people that hurt children? It's just a worse kind of evil to hurt the most vulnerable, and that is what disgusts Rorschach. The man begs Rorschach to take him to jail, but Rorschach then bludgeons him to death, and even after death, continues to beat him brutally. This raised a lot of questions to me. Yes, the man got what he deserved, but who gets to decide what justice looks like? Is Rorschach any better than that man now? Do people still have to submit to a flawed system of justice? Was it right for Rorschach to do that? Usually in movies we cheer when the bad guy gets theirs. In this movie I couldn't even look at the screen.
Later on, one of the female characters, Silk Spectre, has left her superhero boyfriend that she was living with and shacks up with another old superhero. After this new couple goes out on a vigilante spree for old times' sake, they get it on in their aircraft. I think this scene could have been shorter and definitely didn't need all the nudity to get the point across, but there was still a point. They are literally hovering above the city, separated from the people below that they have set themselves above figuratively. Yet, they are acting just as debauched as the people they quickly and gleefully punish. What makes them better? What gives them the right to take the law into their own hands? Who's watching the Watchmen?
In another twisty plot point, another character has averted nuclear war and mass world destruction by obliterating a city of millions and making it look like one of the Watchmen did it. The world puts aside their conflicts to unite against this new threat. More questions: was world peace worth the cost? What gave this character the right to make that decision? Even if it was the only way to avoid nuclear war, was it worth murdering all those people and framing someone else for it? Do the ends ever justify the means? Would it have been ok if the government had done it?
This movie wasn't the stereotypical comic book movie, with clear-cut good guys and bad guys, and instead shows a realistic, gritty, depressing, and graphic idea of what would happen if people really decided to live like this. Hardly any of the Watchmen have what we think of as superpowers. They're just strong, fast, and brave/arrogant. This movie had me marveling at how restrained our society is, considering how evil we all really are. The movie shows the need for morality, for social norms, for authority, but it all begs the question, what gives ANYONE, government, vigilante, cop... the right to exact justice? What is justice? God gives the job of punishing society's evildoers to the government. But what happens when most people don't believe in God, and that there's really no reason the government should get to make those decisions? I haven't read the graphic novel and I don't know much about the author, but the movie, at least, was prophetic. Without God, there is no real justice. When men try on their own to govern themselves, they become just as bad as the people they set themselves over. In that sense, this is the most realistic comic book movie I've ever seen, and that is scary.

Quote of the day, courtesy of my husband.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you look really white trash! It's cute!"

I guess I kind of did, in my Pink Floyd T, jean shorts, baby belly, and ridiculous, unbrushed hair that had a quasi-mullet thing going on. My hair is now brushed but the rest of the outfit is the same. Good thing I'm not going out in public.

The week from h-e-double-hockey-sticks

Hey friends
This has been a pretty drama-filled week in the Eggleston house, and I know some have heard bits and pieces, and some have heard that worse has been happening than actually has, so I wanted to give everyone the scoop.
I woke up in the wee hours Monday morning throwing up, and by Monday night it hadn't stopped, so at about 9:30 I went to the ER. They sent me straight up to the maternity floor, where I was strapped to monitors for me and for Edward. I was having contractions, though I couldn't feel them, which of course concerned the nurse. She then gave me 2 bags of IV fluids and some anti nausea meds and drew lots of blood. The meds didn't really do anything, but the IV fluid was WONDERFUL. It made my arm cold and it felt refreshing. After that I started to feel human again and the contractions settled down. We went home by way of Walgreens to pick up an anti-nausea scrip, which worked wonders. We got home at 5 AM Tuesday morning. William and I were both exhausted and slept the day away. William subbed for me Wednesday and I rested some more.
Yesterday I was on my home from picking up an antibiotic prescription when I got a voicemail from my doctor. He said he didn't like my bloodwork at all and I needed to pack a bag and head to labor and delivery immediately. I can't even put into words how terrified I was. All I could do was pray "God, don't let anything happen to my baby. Protect my baby." Over and over. I called William at work, scaring the high school secretary to death I'm sure because I was very close to slipping off the edge of hysteria. He called my mom to come get me, he got a ride to the hospital from another teacher (thanks again, Shelly!), and my dad talked me through packing my bag to give me something to focus on. Joy prayed with me on the phone, and a little while later, I was on my way with my mom to Labor and Delivery at Florida Hospital. When I got there, William, Shelly, my dad and I think every doctor on the floor was there to greet me. After a little more hysterical crying from me, Dr. Cacciatore (which gave me something else to think about b/c it made me think of chicken) explained that some of my lab work was abnormal and they were going to run some more tests and please don't cry! Nurse Gwen took me into a room and once again I was strapped to monitors. These also showed I was having contractions, but the nurse said it could have been brought on by the stress of getting a voice mail like I got. I still didn't feel them. I've learned in all of this that my son is already a rascal. He wouldn't be still enough for them to get a good heart rate measurement, and in fact, he would punch the monitor and move away. Dr. C and Nurse Gwen made me feel much calmer, and then I had to give more blood while they checked various things. The test that my regular doctor didn't like was that my liver functions were elevated. This can be a sign of preeclempsia and other bad things, but praise God, it turned out I don't have those things. My blood pressure is low and everything is where it is supposed to be at this point. (I won't go too TMI on you there. I'll just say getting those things checked is NOT FUN.) I'm not in imminent danger of early labor or anything. Because it was none of the bad stuff that caused my abnormal liver test, it may be just because of all the throwing up and tylenol of this week. I have another test next week to confirm that everything is still ok.
So that's the scoop!
I want to thank everyone for the calls, support, meals, and mostly, for all the prayer. Even in the midst of all the misery, it's been a blessing to see the love of God's people poured out on me, William, and Edward.

gl-ew-cose

At my doctor's appointment today I went ahead and took my diabetes screening test. You have to chug this disgusting orange-flavored syrupy substance in 5 minutes, then wait around an hour, then get blood drawn. Both techs that were doing the test on me were male. I was ready to yell at both of them for asking me, "doesn't it taste just like flat orange soda?" If orange soda tasted like crap, maybe. I think that men technicians should not be allowed to comment on anything pregnant women have to do in the lab. Because THEY HAVE NO IDEA. YOU chug it and then tell me it's just like flat soda.
Grr.

Coraline: a book review, and a review of the movie review.

Last weekend I read the book Coraline by Neil Gaiman. It is a fantastic book. (I just showed my cards, didn't I?) Anyway, it has been made into a movie, which I have not yet seen but plan to.

The story centers around a girl named Coraline who has moved into a new home with her parents, who both work out of their house. They don't have time to play with Coraline because they are working. Because of that, Coraline takes to exploring her house, meeting her eccentric neighbors, and she uncovers a door to nowhere. One night she is able to enter the door and it leads to her Other House with her Other Parents. They will give her everything she wants: food, attention, and affection. All Coraline needs to do is give up her eyes and sew buttons on instead. Seeing through this, she leaves and goes back home. Then she finds her parents are missing. She knows that the Other Mother has taken them and must decide if she is going to rescue them. There are several admirable qualities portrayed in this story. Coraline struggles with the fact that bravery means doing something you are scared to do but know is right, and she wants to be brave. She remembers a time when her father saved her from wasps by letting them sting him while she ran, and realizes there is nothing else to do but risk the same. Coraline sees through the fakeness of the Other Mother and knows that her parents do what they have to do for her. She also knows that getting everything she wants isn't what is right. What better message than a girl recognizing her parents' unconditional love, the value of hard work, and the value of frugality and patience, all leading her to be brave?

I read a review of the movie on a Christian website. Mostly it talked about how it was too scary for kids. I totally agree with that because it is a terrifying premise. But it doesn't devalue the story. It also criticized the harsh language. Apparently someone says "rat crap" and "cripes". Since rats play an actual part of the story, that isn't surprising. It is also violent. I think the reviewer is assuming that because it is animated, it is for children. It is not for children, but that doesn't mean that the whole movie should be tossed. I think the review is focused on the wrong elements. It's not dealing with the purpose of the story or the true bravery and love Coraline shows for her parents. This same site criticized Twilight, a movie about a vampire family, for being about.... gasp! VAMPIRES! It's such a surface criticism, throwing out all the positives because of a shallow and lazy morality.

I hope to see the movie soon. From what I've read and seen it seems like it's pretty faithful. I'll just have to plug my ears when they say "rat crap."

Random things no one tells you about being pregnant

I’m sitting here watching AI with my swollen legs up, hoping they might return to normal size, and pondering the things they don’t tell you in the “Pregnancy is a glowing land of marshmallows and butterflies!!!” books. (Not all are like that, to be fair. I really like a book a friend gave me called Your Pregnancy Week by Week.) Here are some of them.

There is no waiting around or putting others first when you have to go to the bathroom, eat, or sit down.

It is really hard to shave your legs when you can no longer bend at the waist.

Learning to sleep on your side is not as easy as the books make it sound if you aren’t already a side sleeper.

Nothing will ever taste as good as whatever you are currently craving.

That whole thing about how you can keep up your workout with whatever you were doing before? LIES! No one feels like exerting more energy on purpose after a long day at work.

There is no telling what will make you start crying or laughing hysterically at inappropriate times. You will also fly off the handle at the drop of a hat.


You will forget important things all the time. (I left my purse at the bookstore today… fortunately I remembered as soon as we got in the car and ran/waddled back in as quick as I could and it was right where I left it…)


People will feel a strange freedom to tell you bizarre/scary/TMI birthing/baby stories ALL THE TIME.


Target and Old Navy, hands down, have the most affordable maternity clothes around.

a quick vent...

I just wrote a 20 question quiz for my 6th graders... then Word froze, I had to shut it down, and it DID NOT retrieve my document, don't worry. So I had to rewrite it by brain, which is now rebelling against anything other than eating dinner and watching tv. I am officially done with work for the evening, and I'm going to go drown my sorrow in chips and salsa. And hope my swollen ankles magically go away.

I hate the Orlando Sentinel.

Below is an email I just sent to the customer service department and the editor of the Sentinel. Enjoy.

Dear sir/madam:
I am writing to you because I have been receiving so many phone calls from the subscription department it borders on harassment. I have been receiving these calls off and on for months. Every time, I decline. Last week, Monday evening around 7, I received another phone call asking if I wanted to subscribe for a special offer. I angrily told the salesperson that no, I didn't, I say no every time, and I want to be taken off the phone call list. I have received a phone call from the subscription department every single day since then but have been ignoring them. I answered the phone call from the department this morning, and when cheerfully offered a subscription for a special offer, I told that salesperson no, that I've already said no, and I have already asked to be taken off the call list, so to stop calling me, and I hung up. Please be assured that these sales practices are not effective. Because of these calls, I will never subscribe to the Sentinel, and I plan on telling as many people as I can about these rude, obtrusive phone calls and intrusive sales practices. Take my phone number, [ ], off of your call lists. You will never have my business.

Sincerely,
Jessica Eggleston