Kathi P

All Mine

2012-01-24T16:34:00.000-08:00

London is all mine. Have you ever been given a sweet treat at Christmas time or for your birthday? A treat you tucked away in your pocket, and, later, stowed in your top dresser drawer to savor and eat slowly? A treat that was all yours? My aunt makes 4's every year. These hand-dipped caramels take days to make, and when you receive your box on Christmas day, you vow to make them last the entire year, only to succumb to their buttery temptation day after day until it's January 6th and your box is empty. London is like my box of 4's. She is all mine. Oftentimes I don't want to share her; I just want to take all of her hugs and kisses and lock them up for safe keeping. And I want her to last forever, until my hair turns grey & arms are no longer strong enough to hold her. I want to savor her life like my chocolates, not rushing one moment, but taking in the sweetness of it all. Today I prayed for a long life with my baby girl, but I know that any amount of time spent with her will never be enough.

A Breath

2012-01-18T21:54:00.000-08:00

It has been a hard week and I'm tired. It's the kind of tired that you feel in your bones. But it's also the kind of tired that makes life worth living. It's the cuddling in the middle of the night kind of tired. It's the sound of a rocking chair for countless hours kind of tired. It's the soft head in the crook of my elbow kind of tired. It's the small hands on my cheeks as we drift off to sleep kind of tired. It's the endless playing on great grandma's red quilt kind of tired. It's the singing If Your Happy and You Know It 10 times a day kind of tired. It's the holding baby girl while she naps because I can't bring myself to lay her down kind of tired

Someone once told me, "It's a breath. Before you know it, they are grown and going to college." My time with her is but a breath...I can sleep later.

Things they don't tell you about being a new mom...

2011-10-21T09:50:00.000-07:00

Childbirth truly is the worst pain you will ever feel. It's not something you can prepare for, and you lose all of your dignity in the process.

Childbirth is the most rewarding and incredible experience you will ever have. It is a miracle...there is no other word for it.

When I was in the hospital, every day felt like Christmas morning. I had this precious gift, London, waiting for me. The nurses took care of everything and I could just relax and enjoy my present....

Then they sent me home. You have to take a test to drive a car and become a US citizen, but they just let any idiot walk out of a hospital with a baby. I remember thinking, "I can't even figure out how to buckle her into the car seat. How am I going to raise her without all the nurses??"

The first month sucks. I wish there was more eloquent way to put it, but there's just not. You don't sleep, you don't have time to eat, you still look pregnant, you cry a lot and you have no idea what you are doing. I have heard women talk about bringing their babies home and staring into their eyes all day, contemplating how much they love them. They are liars. No one has time to stare or contemplate. You simply survive the war zone.

By about 3 months you might have time to contemplate your great love for your baby. I love holding London while she naps. I wish I could say that I always use that time to read, pray and think deep thoughts. But sometimes all I have the energy to do is watch Netflix. However, more often than not, I find myself gazing at London, taking in her features and thanking God for the miracle that is my baby girl.

Babies are a full time job. I consider my day successful when I am able to change out of my pajamas before Christian gets home.

London is a what Dr. Sears calls a "high-needs" baby. She doesn't like to be put down. She will out cry us every time. For the first two months, I would literally hold her all day long (thank the Lord for my Moby Wrap). Once, after a particularly hard day, I told my mom that I felt like a loser because I hadn't "done anything." Her reply was one I will never forget. She said, "I dont know why people think rocking a baby means you're not doing anything. Holding and rocking London is the most important thing you can do right now. She will only be a baby for the blink of an eye and then she will never be this small again. Hold her and rock her as much as you can, because someday you will wish you had just one day again to hold your baby."

Being a new mom is the hardest, craziest, most stressful, most emotional thing I have ever done...and there is nothing that I'd rather do.

London Scout Pimentel

2011-07-27T19:19:00.000-07:00

When God said that he would greatly increase labor pains because of Eve’s disobedience, He wasn’t kidding. However, now that London is here, I realize that the reward of a baby is the ONLY thing that would cause a woman to do something so unbearably painful. In one instant, I experienced that greatest pain and the greatest joy I have ever felt.

On Monday night, I started having regular contractions that were gaining strength by the minute. I didn’t sleep at all Monday night and went to the doctor’s office on Tuesday morning. My midwife said I was indeed in labor, but that it was progressing slowly. She told me to go home and keep an eye on it. There was a risk of prodromal labor (contractions that don’t help you progress at all—basically REALLY SLOW labor), but she thought I would be at the hospital that night to deliver. Well, lucky me, it ended up being prodromal labor. We went to the hospital that night around 9:00PM, only to find that I was still only 1cm dilated. Since I hadn’t slept in 24 hours, they gave me allergy medication to help me sleep and sent me home. However, the contractions continued to increase in strength and were 4 minutes apart, so at 3:00AM we went back to the hospital to be admitted. By the time the midwife showed up, I had been without sleep for 48 hours, so they gave me stronger medication to aide my sleep. I still had contractions, but was able to doze in between them for 2 hours.

Christian and I had decided to do an unmedicated birth, and in my naivety, I thought a few classes and some determination would make this whole labor thing a piece of cake. Boy was I wrong! I never thought I would be one of those women to yell and cry during labor (not sure why I thought that, because I am pretty dramatic). In fact, Christian and I would make fun of the women in the videos we saw during our labor class. I am here to tell you that I ate every snide comment that I made about those women. My mom, dad, and sister were in the room for the majority of the labor, and we could not have done it without them. I say “we” because Christian was as much a part of the labor as I was. I had back labor the entire time, so Christian would apply counter pressure to my back during contractions. My mom and dad took turns rubbing Christian’s back in between contractions so that he would be able to help me. It was truly a group effort! My poor dad probably cried more watching me labor than he did at my wedding….it was really sweet!

When I started the transition phase of labor, everyone but my sister and Christian went to the lobby to wait. At that point, I truly thought I could not continue. Shelby and Christian were amazing, and continuously encouraged me when I felt like giving up. At one point, I ended up writhing on the floor and crawling under the bed….to their credit, Shelby and Christian didn’t laugh at me once, even though I know it was hilarious to watch. You truly lose all dignity when you are in that much pain. I could care less about what people thought….I just wanted to do whatever it took to meet my baby girl!

Finally, after 45 ½ hours of labor, I started pushing. I pushed for 2 ½ hours, which took every ounce of strength that I had. I was literally praying out loud the entire time, asking Jesus to help me find the strength to push….I’m sure the nurses thought I was crazy! Shelby and Christian were incredible and stayed by my side to encourage me the entire time. About halfway through pushing, we were able to see the top of a head full of black hair. Knowing that my little one was so close gave me the strength to continue pushing. There was this poignant moment, at the very end, where I thought my body had given out….I literally had nothing left to give. I remember looking at Christian and asking, “Can I do this?” to which he replied, as he had so many times before, “Baby, I’m so proud of you. I know you can do this.” That was all I needed. At 10:44PM on 7.13.11, London Scout Pimentel entered the world weighing 7 lbs. 11 ounces. I can’t begin to describe what it was like to give birth to London and have them lay her on my chest. It was the most beautiful, spiritual, and joy-filled moment of my life. I thank God for trusting me with the life of my precious little girl.

Baby Central

2011-06-12T11:15:00.000-07:00

I watched the documentary "Babies" this week, and within the first 10 minutes, I was deeply convicted about how very spoiled we are here in the US. Women in Africa literally give their kids rocks and sticks to play with. That's it. They don't have diapers, and they certainly don't have cribs or swings, nor do they get "Parents" magazine each month. And you know what? Their kids are perfectly fine! My house, on the other hand, is officially baby central. We have it all....the swing, the bouncer, the cradle, the crib, the play mat, the jumper, the stroller, the car seat, and a million books and toys. Talk about a spoiled child...and she's not even here yet! Don't get me wrong....we are incredibly thankful for the blessings that God has given us and overwhelmed by the generosity of those around us. I am just reassessing how much of this stuff I really NEED. Of course I want it all, and I'm sure it will come in handy, but if I were stranded on a deserted island, I'm pretty sure that London would learn to sleep without a crib or a monitor or the book Baby Wise. In a way, it is extremely comforting. If she decided to make an appearance this week, everything would be just fine! All she really needs is two parents that love her. Everything else is just icing on the cake! That being said, we are extremely humbled by all the support we have been given by family and friends. It has allowed us to furnish a beautiful room for our precious baby girl, and we can't wait to watch her enjoy it!

London's First Trip!

2011-03-05T22:13:00.001-08:00

We just got back from our "babymoon"/conference in Cali. It was an absolute blast! We were headed to a conference called Catalyst in Orange County, so we decided to go a couple of days early and take London to Disneyland! The conference was amazing, and the park was magical as always, but the best part of the trip was shopping for and talking about our baby girl. Who knew that shopping for your unborn child could be more fun than a trip to Disneyland!?

I was a bit fearful that becoming a mom would mean no more freedom and fun. However, now I realize that everything is so much richer with London in tow. Even though we haven't officially met her yet, I am filled with joy thinking about our future adventures together. I can't wait to revisit childhood with London, to make lasting memories as a family, and to see the world through her eyes.

She got her first taste of loud music on our trip, and it was hilarious! During a Disney show, she kicked and squirmed every time the music got loud. I noticed her kicking again during Aladdin the musical, but by the end of the week she had grown used to it...she didn't kick much during worship time at the conference (which, by the way, was amazing...it you haven't heard John Mark McMillan or Gungor, go look them up right now). Maybe she just loves musicals like her parents. :)

Here are some of the things we bought her in Disneyland. I don't even like pink that much, but felt compelled to buy it for her! I just can't resist the girly stuff, even though I was really opposed to it before!

Next adventure with London: at trip to NYC to help Aunt Shelby with her bridal pics!

Meet Baby London!

2011-02-24T20:50:00.000-08:00

Baby P has been extremely active since week 17 of my pregnancy...kicking, punching, flipping. It has even kicked me awake a few times! In fact, one morning it wouldn't stop kicking until I got up and ate my leftover chinese food...at 6:00 in the morning! All that kicking had given me the impression that I had a little man-baby swimming around in there...a baby boy that took after his rather large daddy. However, at our ultrasound on Wednesday we were shocked to learn that we are HAVING A BABY GIRL!

We are so excited! We are officially in love with baby London (yes, her name is London, like the city where we honeymooned!). She is just so cute! She moved and kicked her little legs throughout the entire ultrasound. She is an active little girl and most certainly strong-willed like both of her parents!

Against my better judgement, I am posting some prego pics. My friend Wendi (who is due on the same day as me!), inspired me to do so. She looks so cute in her pictures!

1 week ago: 5 months

4 Months

I feel like a beached whale.

2011-01-17T16:31:00.000-08:00

OK, so I know I’m pregnant and all, but should I really look like I have a giant beer gut when I’m only 4 months along? Baby P is only 4 inches long and weighs 3.5 ounces, so is it really necessary for my belly to start at the middle of my rib cage (no lie) and go down to my thighs? A little girl at church told me the other night, “Wow, I can’t believe your stomach is already that big. My cousin is 4 months pregnant too and your are WAY bigger than her.” Awesome. By the time it’s all said and done, I guess Christian will just have to roll me around like a massive beach ball. OK, so maybe I’m being a bit dramatic…..I’m not THAT big. But I sure don’t feel like I look preggers. Instead, I look like I have a food baby.

On a more positive note, I just spent an awesome weekend with my college friends and their families. We talked a lot, played with babies, ate good food and laughed a ton! It was so much fun. Every year I spend with them makes me more thankful for the precious bond we share. They are amazing women. Watching my sweet friends be moms was such a blessing. It put things into perspective for me….even if I gain 200 pounds, it will be worth it, because I will get to have a precious little baby to love in the end!

Boy or Girl??? What do you think?

2011-01-08T20:36:00.000-08:00

According to this really reliable online quiz, I have a 65% chance of having a girl. Dad, Bob, and Paul think it's a girl. Here are the worst possible combinations of me and Christian in a girl:

1)Really pale skin with lots of dark body hair

2)Giant man-like bone structure and the propensity for dance

3)A love for sports involving fire arms and no hand-eye coordination

According to the wedding ring test, I am having a boy. Mom, Linda and Shelby (I think) think it's a boy. Here are the worst possible combinations of me and Christian in a boy:

1) Again, really pale skin with lots of dark body hair

2) Feminine physique and a manly set of vocal chords

3) Small and unathletic with a propensity for football

What do you think it will be?? We find out in 5 weeks!

We're having a baby....WHAT!?!

2011-01-07T10:20:00.000-08:00

So, right after Christian spun me around the room, both of us elated at the sight of the word “pregnant” on the little stick, I had this sinking realization that you can’t take this decision back. Ever. For the next 80 years I will be a mommy. WHAT?!? Yes, it is amazing and wonderful and thrilling beyond belief. But it is down right terrifying too. Christian and I, starting on July 11^th, will be the sole ones responsible for screwing this child up. For a perfectionist, the idea of messing up a HUMAN BEING is just about the worst thing ever. Way worse than getting a B on a grad school paper or gaining 10 pounds (which, by they way, I get to do….like 4 times over throughout the next few months). How in the world can we prepare for this? After trying to read 5 different books on pregnancy simultaneously, then giving up (because there was no flippin’ way I could process all the contradicting information), I decided to just let it go. There is no way I am going to be a perfect mom. My child will not be perfect, but then again, neither are his parents. And isn’t that what makes this life so interesting? The fact that we all have sob stories and baggage and funny childhood memories about family fights? I love the fact that God has kept me humble through my imperfection, and that I know what it means to suffer because of my mistakes. In the end, if I make a million mistakes (which I will), and my little one ends up loving Jesus in spite of that, or maybe because of that, then nothing else really matters. We’re imperfect. Jesus is perfect. What more is there?

Goodbye Grandpa

2010-01-06T21:34:00.000-08:00

Four and a half years ago my Grandpa Pick danced with me at my wedding. Tonight he is dancing in Heaven with the angels. He went home to be with the Lord tonight at 8:00. We will miss you grandpa. We will miss your stories, your artwork, your ability to find beauty in the smallest of things (like a dried up grapevine!), your love for animals, your whistling and your piano playing. You were one of a kind. Paint a pretty sunset for us while your up there. Love you.

unperfect

2009-09-20T14:02:00.000-07:00

When I was in the 2nd grade I cried because I got a 95 on a coloring assignment. When I went to plead my case to the teacher and beg for the additional 5 points, she refused to change my grade because, unlike the other students, I had not outlined my picture with marker. However, I held my ground and pointed out that I, unlike the other students, had taken the time to outline my picture with a darker shade of crayon, which, by the way, is much harder than outlining with marker, thank you very much. My perfectionism was a force to be reckoned with, and I was not going to back down. So my teacher, wise woman that she was, gave in and awarded me the 5 extra points.

I would like to tell you that I have since abandoned my young and stupid ways. That I no longer seek to be perfect and please others. But the truth is, the grip of perfection has only gotten tighter as I've gotten older. So tight that I was beginning to suffocate. And perfectionism's old friend, anxiety, had become a driving force in my life. By the way, did I mention that I feel anxious about the fact that I just started a sentence with "And." That is what I would call unperfect grammar. But I'm going to leave it there (just like I'm leaving the "But" at the beginning of this sentence), because I have decided to take delight in unperfect things.

I mean, who decided on standards of "perfection" anyway? When you really think about it, societal standards of perfection are often arbitrary and unfounded. The other day Christian and I went to a fairly nice restaurant and our waitress had sleeve tattoos. I loved it. I loved the fact that the manager at a nice restaurant would hire her, because, let's be honest, you don't see a lot of tatted up waiters working in classy restaurants. Despite the fact that tattoos are no longer as taboo as they once were, there is still a societal stigma of DANGER! associated with them. Christian and I had a 10 minute conversation with her about the artist who designed her tattoos. She was delightful. And did I mention that she was one of the best waitresses we had ever had? I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. Shame on me and my ridiculous standards.

So I am trying this new thing. I am finding beauty in the unperfect things. My sister told me a few weeks ago, "I have decided to eat breakfast every day, no matter what time I wake up.....whether it's 8:00AM or 8:00PM!" Why shouldn't she? If she likes breakfast, why not? That may seem like a no brainer to you, but in my sick mind, it was a revelation. I thought, 'You can just do that? Eat whatever you want when you want?' I know. Sick. But that's the small box I have been living in. Everything has rules. Everyone has a standard, and if you don't measure up to someone's standard, if you don't please everyone, then your world will fall apart. But guess what? I ate breakfast today at 1:30, and it was fabulous. I had Christian's mom over the other day when our house was a wreck, and she still loves me. I have started displaying my animal greeting cards like art in my house. Weird, yes. But I like it. I am going to learn to play the guitar. I will never be good at it, but I don't care. I'm going to do it because I like doing it. And I am writing this blog entry even though I'm not sure anyone will A) read it or B) like it. I had fun doing it, so why not?

Did I mention that "unperfect" is not a word?

It is now.

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear..." 1 John 4:18
"Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom." 2 Corinthians 3:17

2105 Howell Mountain Drive

2009-09-12T10:15:00.000-07:00

I am sick. I suffer from an illness called overcommitmentitis. I can't seem to just have one thing going on in my life. Once grad school ended, I didn't know what to do with my spare time, so we decided to build a house! That's right, Christian and I signed our lives over to KB Home Mortgage a few weeks ago and have begun plans for a new casa in Cedar Park. We are very excited! Although we are sad to leave the Austin city limits, we couldn't beat the price and we LOVE our new neighborhood. Our foundation is set to pour at the end of this week. Your prayers and suggestions for how to stay sane are welcome!

Our lot

Master Bathtub

Garage Door

Outside of house

Tile/Cabinets

Kitchen countertops, cabinets, and tile

Kitchen light fixture

Guest Bath

I want to be like her when I grow up...

2009-07-18T00:51:00.000-07:00

We just got back from a fabulous vacation in Vegas with my sister and her boyfriend....lots of sleeping in, eating, laying out by the pool and seeing shows (and, by the way, if you ever have a chance to see Cirque du Soleil BEATLES, you must! Pure creative genius.) It was just what we needed! By far, the best show we saw was a free one in the Nine Fine Irishmen Pub. The band, Sine Ri-Ra, was amazing, but even more amazing was their groupie who danced the ENTIRE time at the front. I want to be her when I'm old. I won't try to explain...you'll just have to see for yourself...

prayer request

2009-04-26T21:13:00.000-07:00

grad school ends in 11 days!!!! i will have my life back!!!! thank you, Lord, for seeing me through these past 2 years. if any of you are still reading this (i know i'm an inconsistent blogger), please pray that christian and i will make it through these next 11 days. it's going to be crazy!

Babies' Mommas

2009-02-11T19:08:00.001-08:00

I love babies. I have always loved babies. In fact, at a very early age I found myself constantly distracted in church by all the cute babies cooing in the auditorium. Even to this day, I will not hear a word of the sermon if a baby is sitting in the pew in front of me (just ask Christian). So you can imagine what a thrill it has been to watch my friends become parents. I have loved watching them go through pregnancy, and become more like Christ as they parent their little ones. There is nothing like getting to love the children of some of the people you love the most. What an honor and blessing it has been to learn from them as they seek to love their children like Jesus loves us. So, I just wanted to thank a few of them for their examples....

1) Amber, thank you for being one of the most Godly and intentional parents that I know. You are raising your boys to know the Lord, and your patience with them always amazes me. I adore Eli and Calvin, and I can't tell you what a blessing it has been to be a part of their lives. If I love them as much as I do now, I can't imagine how I will feel about my own children some day. Thank you for sharing them!

2)Debby, it is so apparent that you are absolutely in love with Joaquin. He is one of the happiest babies I have ever met, and I know that is because you have sacrificed so much to spend every minute you have with him. I deeply respect your choice to stay home with your little one. It is so obvious that he is number one to you! Thank you for sharing your little man with me....I have LOVED getting to cuddle him and love on him....I am living vicariously through you!

3) Lisa W., you always amaze me with your ability to stay calm in the midst of craziness. You juggle a booming business, two kids, and a husband, and you do it beautifully. You have two of the most beautiful children that I have ever seen, and I have loved watching their personalities blossom. I love the fact that you allow each of them to be exactly who they are; I love that you do "girly" things with Asia, even though you are a tomboy at heart!

4) Melissa, I am so thankful for the example you have been to me. Your relationship with Cole is incredible. I know that life has thrown you some curve balls, but you have never once let your difficulties affect your bond with your son. It is so obvious that he knows that he is loved by you; he can be his silly self, he can talk to you, he can play with you, he can learn with you and he can pray with you. You are raising an amazing son who knows the Lord, and I pray that God will bless me with one just like him!

5) Brooke, I love hearing stories about Joel. It is so obvious that you and Paul get a kick out of his silliness. I love that fact that every day at school (back in the day) you would have a story or a home video of Joel to share with me. You and Paul are both amazing servants of the Lord, and it is apparent that you are raising one just like you both! Joel has a great sense of humor and he never meets a stranger....just like both of you! I can't wait to meet new baby Mason! He (or She??) is a lucky little guy!

6) Jenny, I can't begin to tell you how excited I am for you and Chris. You were made to be a mommy, and I am amazed at the Lord's faithfulness. I have loved hearing about your prayers for baby T. and reading your blog as you write about the gift of pregnancy. You are too cute! You and Chris are going to be incredible parents; you passion for the Lord paired with your passion to experience life to its fullest will make the Thompson household an amazing place to grow up.

7) Ashley! I am thrilled for you and David! God's timing is so perfect, and I can't wait to hear all about your new career as a mom. From the moment I met you, I knew that your creativity and love for family would make you an amazing mom. I have watched you love on Zach's kids, and it is obvious that God has uniquely gifted you to be a parent. Christian and I will be praying for your little red-headed (hopefully!) peanut!

Desert Song

2009-01-26T12:43:00.000-08:00

"All of my life, in every season, you are still God, I have a reason to sing...."

-from Desert Song by Hillsong United

Christian and I are both in our last semester of graduate school, and we are faced with many choices about our future. We are no different from many people our age....we are wandering through the desert of life, wishing that God would speak to us, like he did Moses, and tell us exactly what to do. However, I am daily working to embrace the conviction I have had in the past weeks: it doesn't matter. No matter what our future holds, the fact remains that we are blessed right here, right now, and, in every season, God's love is enough.

Two things happened this weekend, which both humbled me and further convicted me of this truth. A cab picked me up bright and early at 5:15 AM on Friday morning to take me to the airport. My cab driver, a slight man with a dark, wrinkled face and kind eyes, told me about his humble beginnings. At the young age of 16, a family friend drove him from Mexico to Austin, and he was left to fend for himself, with $1.oo in his pocket. He spoke no English, had no friends, and certainly had no means of getting either of those things. God must have been looking out for this man, because the very first person he approached not only gave him a job, but also paid for him to learn English. He ended up working for this "stranger" for 20 years, and he eventually married an Austinite and raised 3 children with her. Don't tell me that God didn't plan that.

Even more touching than this man's story was a story that I heard at Stream in the Desert this weekend. A highly successful family from Rowanda was forced to flee to America, barely escaping death. Do you think that that was in their plans? To drag their five children to a foreign country? To give up a high paying job to become a custodian at a hospital? To leave behind their friends and family, only to find that those most precious to them had been slaughtered? God forgive me for not being content with the life you have given me. I am blessed beyond measure.

So things may not work out the way that we plan them. So what. If I'm really honest with myself, it is simply my own pride and desire to impress the world that drives my desire to see my plans come to fruition. I have to know....I HAVE TO know....that God has a purpose for my life that far exceeds the one I have for myself. Lord help us all remember that in every season, regardless of circumstances, you are worthy of honor and praise.

Mini the Van

2008-10-20T20:35:00.000-07:00

(1992 Dodge Caravan--Not the actual Skidmore mini, but it will do)

My earliest memories of car rides include a white mini van with gray interior. However, my mom's life really started when she traded in the white and gray mini for a white and gold wonder wagon. That's right. The egg shell white paint of our new van was beautifully accented with gold hubcaps and a matching gold pin stripe. Shelby and I would frequently leave school and walk half way up the big hill to meet our pimped out ride and it's owner (my mom). We never missed our ride because there was a small rock stuck in the front right tire that would announce the coming of the skidmore mini.....CLACK..CLACK..CLACK.......just in case we couldn't spot the gleam off of the hubcaps.

The white and gold goodness on wheels carted us around for many years, only to meet a tragic end. It happened in the parking lot of my dad's office. Shelby was singing a tune with great gusto, and as part of her grand finale, she grabbed the handle of mini and passionately slid her door open.....right off the track...and onto the ground. I remember looking at Shelby with disbelief, but this was quickly followed by a solid minute of laughter. Mini was injured and we needed to act quickly. Luckily, my mom had a couple of bungee chords in the trunk, which she skillfully used to secure mini's door to the middle bucket seat. Mom was bound and determined to save mini...so determined that she ordered Shelby and I to sit in the bucket seat DIRECTLY NEXT TO the hanging door. We were instructed to HOLD ON to the door TIGHT as we puttered down the highway at a painfully low speed. Never mind the fact that a speed bump would have resulted in our certain death. We were committed to our hooptie.

Mini was repaired, but, sadly, the parking lot incident was the beginning of the end. Here's to you mini. Thank you for serving us in style for so many years.

"You could bring your instruments..."

2008-10-12T16:55:00.000-07:00

Allison and Randy Fuller came to visit us this weekend. Randy, being the wonderful husband that he is, surprised Al with a trip to Austin for her 26th B-day. I have to say, I have never been someone's birthday present before, and I felt so honored! The weekend was filled with good conversations, good food, and LOTS of laughter. We talked, went shopping, watched the OU game, ate at our favorite Austin restaurants (The Omlettry, Frank and Angies, Santa Rita), had table-top smores at Halceon, jammed on the guitar and piano (well, at least Randy did), and worshipped at Austin Stone Church. I told Allison that I felt like it was my birthday because I had so much fun. It's not very often that you find a friend who finds joy in all of the same things as you! As my mom told Allison, we are "heart friends," and I couldn't agree more! I am so thankful for the Fullers; every time I am with them, I am encouraged and challenged in my faith. Thank you, Randy and Al, for your commitment to Christ; you are a wonderful example to me and Christian, and we are so thankful for your friendship. Thank you, also, for your appreciation of awkward comments. Christian and Randy deserve some kind of special award for marrying me and Allison! God has blessed me and Christian with wonderful friends, and I look forward to many more memories with the Fullers!

Palin Mania!

2008-09-04T21:04:00.000-07:00

I consider myself a moderate when it comes to politics. In fact, I am ashamed to say that I have never voted...I frankly never cared enough to get off the couch and stand in line. During this election period, I once again found myself on the fence. I was a voucher-hatin', baby lovin', anti-universal health care gal with a passion for social justice. Like I said...a moderate. HOWEVER, I recently fell off the fence and into the Alaskan wilderness. That's right. A small town mayor from the "Last Frontier" has won my heart. She's a mother of five (including a special needs child) who made her debut in "politics" as a member of the PTA...you've gotta love a hockey mom who cares about education reform. Yes, I admit that I shed a tear when listening to her acceptance speech; women have come a long way in the 88 years since we earned the right to vote. Thank you, Mrs. Palin, for inspiring me to care again.

Lakehouse '08!

2008-08-01T20:55:00.001-07:00

I am so thankful for the friends that God has blessed me with! It was a perfect weekend.

Walk it out, Shelbs!

2008-07-14T19:41:00.000-07:00

My little sister is in Africa right now being Jesus to kids. I miss her dearly, but I am so proud of her desire to do God's work. She told me that she has been teaching the kids to dance and they love it! Please pray for her as she continues to serve and love others.

I was missing her today and thought that I would post this video in honor of her. It has no significant spiritual meaning, but Shelby and I both think it is sick (in a good way). Seriously hilarious...you must watch!

Check out what my kids are doing (it's working now)....

2008-05-09T13:01:00.000-07:00

World On Fire

2008-04-08T20:39:00.000-07:00

My amazing eighth grade students have each set up blogs in an effort to review and comment on different humanitarian efforts going on in the world today. They have examined Kiva, One is Greater Than None, Data, and Invisible Children. If you have a chance, you should check out the work that these organizations are doing....it's pretty incredible. On Monday, we all watched the video "World On Fire" (see below), which rocked my world the first time I saw it. Apparently, it did the same for several of my students. Here are a few of the things that they wrote:

"i didnt now that some people around the world didnt have money, education, and homes. when i get older i promise to help and give lots of money to help people get shelters and homes."
-Drew

"One more thing is that $3,500 is being used for a production superviser instead of schooling and support for 70 children of war in Sierra Keone. So all I'm saying is that you help out down there or whatever over there, they need our help and support, it wouldn't hurt to send money or stuff like that, that includes clothes, so please help the people in those countries, please."
-Deidre

"America is spending way too much money that we don't "need". Yes we may "want" it but we don't really "need" it. It won't kill anyone if you don't spend that much money on a music video, but but it will if you don't get food, medicine,or that kind of stuff."
-Jen

"My personal reaction, is that is pretty sad, that other parts in the world are poor, and peoples ignorance is what keeps them from helping them. I think that people should think twice, before they actually do something that is not going to help the world."
-Mau

"I think that it was really thoughtful of her to do this and it is helping the african people a lot, and this video has inspired me to want to start saveing up money to give, because the video really makes me want to make a diference now."
-Gabby

Wow. If these kids are our future, then it's looking pretty bright. Blinding, even.

In honor of my masters report

2008-04-04T12:23:00.001-07:00

This is a dolphin.

2008-01-31T21:25:00.000-08:00

Ode to Procrastination

2008-01-24T20:18:00.000-08:00

I planned to write this long ago
But decided I should wait
Lesson plans and grad homework
Were loading up my plate
I'd rush from work, go to my class
And then go home at night
Lesson plans still in my bag
I had time for TV, right?
I can multitask, no prob
Computer on my lap
Do a little research here
Oh, wow, I need a nap
30 minutes should do the trick
It's only half past eight
After all, I'll work much better
When I'm out of this tired state
Man this couch is comfy
Half an hour just ain't enough
I can get up early
And do that other stuff...
-Kathrine Pimentel

Christmas Break!

2008-01-06T20:58:00.000-08:00

WOW! We had a great break here at the Pimentel Casa. We started it off by going to visit Christian's family in Cleveland, TX. It was complete with a hay ride, four-wheeling, counting cows (you think I'm kidding), presents, and great conversations about the Lord. I am so thankful to be a part of such a wonderful family.

After our brief stint in East Texas, we came home and spent Christmas eve and day with Christian's immediate family. I loved getting to cook with Linda and laugh with the Pimentels. What a blessing they are to me...I always feel right at home with them.

We then traveled to the Skidmore abode and did a mini-Skidmore family Christmas before joining the rest of the Skidmores in Plano. I love being with Mom, Dad, Shelbs, and Christian. I am so thankful that we have all developed deep friendships with one another. We have so much fun together!

Our time in Plano was great, as always; it's so good to be able to catch up with our boy cousins, Greg, David and John, once a year. I am so proud of what each of them are doing with their lives. I also loved visiting with Don, Kathy, Emily and Grandmama. I am thankful that we are all still able to get together each year!

New Years was spent with the Dishmans and the Holmes at the lake house. We are so grateful for the frienships of these two couples. They are like family to us...we always have so much fun together. We loved laughing, singing, playing games, and investigating a fire (ask me about it later) with them!

We ended our Christmas break on a perfect note! Christian took me to San Diego for my birthday and it was an absolute blast! We stayed downtown in the Gaslamp Quarter, ate some great food, went to the zoo, experienced the magic of Disneyland, and enjoyed Coronado Island. Christian is so good about doing sweet things for me; he is a great hubby! Here are some pics of our trip.

At the "Hotel Del" for brunch

Disneyland! At the "French Quarter"

At Disneyland in line for "Peter Pan's Flight"

At Disneyland outside of "It's a Small World"

Having brunch at the Crown Room at the Del

Point Loma in the distance--outside the Del

On Harbour Island enjoying the view!

At the San Diego Zoo with the camels

By the lighthouse at Point Loma--a peninsula off the coast of San Diego

Point Loma--beautiful!

What an awesome trip!

I'm thankful for...

2007-12-12T21:18:00.001-08:00

Spending time with friends in Nashville! (Nice pose Jamie.)

My beautiful cuz and her beautiful new marriage!

The silly boys in my life!

I'm also thankful for...

2007-12-12T20:50:00.000-08:00

Spending time with the Fullerton sisters at Homecoming. I love this family!
Seeing my sister LOVE life as a Squig.
Dressing up for Halloween and passing out candy with my hubby!
Having friends come visit! We had a blast with B&B and W&W (see Wendi's blog for pics)!
Spending time with family for Paul's birthday. I am obsessed with Bubba, his pug!

Half My Sandwich

2007-11-04T17:37:00.000-08:00

Seven year old Ricky towered over his kindergarten classmates. His nose was always runny, his glasses were always slightly crooked and his voice was always a tad too loud. I did my best to stay away from Ricky. Quite frankly, he scared me; I was convinced that if his snot got on me, I would literally die. I was able to avoid him on the playground...it's amazing how fast you can run when you're scared for your life. I was able to avoid him in the classroom. And lunch was no problem because, unless you wanted to get cooties or commit social suicide, you didn't sit with the opposite sex while eating. In fact, the mother of all punishments was assigned boy/girl seating during lunch. Our class had managed to avoid the named torture all year, but our luck was bound to run out...and it did. And guess which boy sat right next to me?

There's not much you can do to avoid a person who's sitting smack dab next to you at a lunch table. I did my best to balance on the far left side of my circular plastic seat, while eyeing Ricky suspiciously. If I could make it through the next 20 minutes without touching him, I just might live to see my own children. Ricky was known for stealing food from other people. I knew this, so it came as no surprise to me when he unabashedly reached over and grabbed a chip off of another kid's plate. I, however, was ready. There was no way I was going to let Ricky's snotty fingers touch my food. I clutched the handle of my pink purse tightly (yes, I carried a purse) and took aim. As expected, Ricky turned around and leaned toward my lunch sack. Apparently the term "personal space" didn't exist in his vocabulary, because he plowed right through mine in his quest for my food. Without hesitation, I reared back and swung my "weapon" at his back, nailing him right between the shoulder blades. Quite pleased with my defense tactics, I prepared to strike again. Suddenly, a loud voice yelled, "STOP THAT RIGHT NOW." 'That's right!' I thought, convinced that the lunch lady was yelling at Ricky. I glanced up with a "can you BELIVE him?!?" look on my face, only to be met with a firm reprimand. "We DO NOT hit people with our purses." I could feel the heat immediately rise up my neck, bleed into my face and press behind my eyes. She was getting onto me? I wasn't the one stealing food! I wasn't the one with crooked glasses and a snotty nose! I was simply defending what was rightfully mine! "I...I was just," but before I could finish my sentence, the lunch lady snatched up my lunch sack and motioned for me to follow her. I sat by myself at the front of the lunch room for the rest of the period. I couldn't eat a bite through my tears, which started out at tears of embarrassment but quickly turned to tears of shame. Ricky had no friends, and I knew it. Even at the young age of 6, I knew that I had hurt Ricky. The pain caused by my pink purse went strait from his back and into his heart. How could I have been so cruel?

To this day, I feel guilt over the pain I caused this boy. He was ignored, teased, and rejected day in and day out. I had a chance to show love to a fellow classmate and I blew it. But you know what the real tragedy is? I didn't really learn my lesson. Sure, I have learned how to be friendly the friendless. To smile kindly at those in need. But how often do I really go out of my way to love the Rickys in the world? How often do I stop and invite the woman on the corner to go have coffee with me or eat dinner at my house? It's a tough question that I ask myself often. It's a constant battle between compassion and comfort. Between approaching and avoiding. Between sacrifice and selfishness. Between Jesus and myself. You know what's funny? I don't even remember what I was eating the day I hit Ricky with my purse, but I do remember the look on Ricky's face, and I can' help but wonder, how would Ricky have looked at me had I offered him half my sandwich?

Somebody Loved

2007-10-07T20:11:00.000-07:00

Three nights a week I have class until 7:30, which leaves Tuesday nights and weekends for time with Christian. More often than not, we spend our time sitting side by side doing HW, or traveling various places on the weekends. Needless to say, my time with my sweet husband is precious to me.

The other day, I was driving home from class, stressing about the fact that I had no plans for dinner. I called Christian and he told me sandwiches were fine (for the 3rd time that week). Running on 5 hours of sleep, eye make-up rubbed off, with hair pulled back in a messy bun, I all but stumbled into the house via the garage door, and called out a meek, "Hey baby."

Before I had time to notice the dimmed lights, Christian appeared before me, sporting a nice dress shirt and a hint of my favorite cologne. "Hi baby!" he smiled. As we embraced, I noticed the glow of candles around us. I ventured forward into the living room and found both a clean house and a beautifully prepared meal of beef tenderloin, fresh corn and grilled asparagus.

"What is this?" I said in disbelief.

To which Christian replied, "Dinner."

Overcome with emotion, I asked, "Why did you do this?"

"Because you’re my sweetie," Christian beamed.

Surprise, surprise, I started crying. Although he was reluctant to admit it, he got a little misty too (and he will probably kill me for writing this on my blog).

I am so thankful to have a partner like Christian. I say partner, and not husband, because the definition of partner (according to dictionary.com) is "one of a pair or a team." This year, Christian has truly taught me what it means to be part of a team. I am so blessed by his help, friendship, kindness, encouragement, leadership, service and love. I know I've written a lot about him on here, but I just can't help it! With that said, I'll leave you with a Pam and Jim love montage to one of my favorite songs, "Somebody Loved" by the Weepies.

Dwight Schrute is my BFF

2007-09-30T15:45:00.001-07:00

Well, the start to school has been a whirlwind, complete with no sleep, lots of reading, energetic students, a wedding, and a funeral. My cousin Chelsea got married two weeks ago, and her wedding was a blast! It was at the Plantation House, and, as usual, Norris and Luanna were unbelievably gracious and fun. Seeing family was wonderful, and the best part was that Lucus and Chelsea are a perfect match. The weekend of Chelsea's wedding, my Great-grandmother passed away at the age of 103. Don't be alarmed....she didn't pass away at the wedding! She was in Amarillo with hospice, and they told us she went peacefully. It was very bitter sweet. It was time for her to go home, but we will miss all her stories and antics (which I blogged about not too long ago). We love our Grandma Dell. Which brings me to Dwight....

A funny transition, you might think, but my journey to the funeral in Amarillo allowed me a quick stop in Abilene. You'll never guess who I met...Dwight Schrute himself. Actually, it was just Shelby dressed up for bid night as Dwight, but it may as well have been the real thing, because she was equally as hilarious as our favorite "Assistant to the Regional Manager." Here's a pic of me and "Dwight."

It was so much fun to get to spend the weekend with Shelbs. After Bid Night, Christian, Shelby and I drove to Amarillo on Sat. morning for the funeral. Usually I would be sad, but in this case, I was very relieved....Grandma Dell had been in so much pain. It was fun to get to visit in the car for 10 hours (5 up and 5 back)....I never get tired of being around my sissy. I also got to see her cute house and spend time with her sweet roomies. I am so glad that Shelbs is back at ACU, but I must say, I really really miss her. I can't wait until next year when she'll be back in Austin! It's such a blessing to have a sister that I would be best friends with even if we weren't related. I could go on and on, but I'll spare you. Instead, enjoy a little time with Dwight....

Everything

2007-09-09T06:59:00.000-07:00

A good friend, Debby Mata, shared this video with me and I was very touched by it. So often I forget that my purpose here on earth is to walk with Jesus and be moved by Him. It's so easy to be lured in by the fleeting pleasures of this life, and my heart is overcome with sadness that so many live each day without being moved by Christ. However, sadness without action is nothing. If I do not become intentional about letting myself be continually moved by God, how can I expect to show others how to be moved?

If you have a moment, watch this. It may seem a little corny at first, but I found it well worth my time.

Thank you, Jesus, for your forgiveness and grace, without which I would never have experienced the fullness of life with you.

Everything by Lifhouse

Find Me HereSpeak To Me
I want to feel you
I need to hear you
You are the light
That's leading me
To the place where
I find peace again.
You are the strength, that keeps me walking.
You are the hope, that keeps me trusting.
You are the light to my soul.
You are my purpose...you're everything.
How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?
You calm the storms, and you give me rest.
You hold me in your hands, you won't let me fall.
You steal my heart, and you take my breath away.
Would you take me in?
Take me deeper now?
How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?
And how can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?
Cause you're all I want,
You're all I need
You're everything,everything
You're all I want your all I need
You're everything, everything.
You're all I want you're all I need.
You're everything, everything
You're all I want you're all I need, you're everything, everything.
And How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?
How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?

Seasons

2007-08-26T12:05:00.000-07:00

(Above: Melissa, Brooke, and me at our Totally 80's Holiday party last year at school)

When I was 3 years old, I had a best friend named Robbie. We would play in the mud together, watch Mr. Boogedy together under my mom's giant red blue and white hand-sewn quilt, eat goldfish together and even occasionally take baths together (shhhhh...don't tell!) Robbie and his family moved a few years later, but my devastation soon resided when my preschool pal Lauren came into my life. She was as ornery as I was, and we spent our time plotting our escapes or hiding from Miss Penny under the pews in the silent auditorium. Since my run-away days, there have been a slew of best friends come and go in and out of my life for different reasons. I would name them all, but it would take too long and you wouldn't know most of them anyway. The point is that friends change with the seasons of life; some come and go; others fade in, out and back in again; still others are a constant fixture; however, all serve a purpose.

A year ago I found myself in a new season, and the Lord, in his great love for me, provided two new best friends. He placed me on a team at school with two amazing women who have both served a different, yet equally beautiful, purpose in my life.

Brooke is a woman of faith. Fun, goofy, compassionate, encouraging, and extremely intentional about her walk with Jesus, she ministers to me daily and shows me what it means to trust in the Lord and follow His vision. She has taught me the concept of ministering to kids out of the overflow of one's heart. I know that each day when I go to school, I will be able to share both struggles and celebrations with someone who truly cares. We have laughed together, cried together, prayed together and vented together (you know how middle school is...it can be an emotional rollercoaster). I am truly thankful for her friendship!

Melissa has an amazing heart for the Lord. She puts others needs first at all times, and seeks to love, encourage, and accommodate people right where they're at. She is a woman full of sacrifice, making sure to provide for all the needs of her precious son, Cole, while still finding the time to listen to and share with me (and boy have we shared...everything from prayer needs to...well..we'll just leave it at that). She has taught me what it means to enjoy the blessings of life, both big and small. I know that every day when I go to school, Melissa will make me laugh; I never knew that such a tiny person could have such a large personality! What a blessing she is to me!

Thank you, Brooke and Melissa, for making this a precious season in my life!

G-Maw

2007-08-15T08:58:00.000-07:00

My Great-grandmother on my mom's side is 103 years old. Up until this last year, she still walked, talked, and made every effort to make us laugh. She's a spunky little thing, that's for sure. She was recently admitted to the hospital for congestive heart failure and spent a 5 day stint there. For a woman who has never been sick (you think I'm kidding), this was not only painful, but terrifying. Bless her little heart. When we went in to see her after a night spent alone in ICU, she was fightin' mad. She told us, "I have never, never, never been so mistreated in my life! I didn't know whether to kill them (the nurses) or kill myself!" She also told us, "I didn't know whether I was a-foot or a-horses back!" Don't ask me what that means...I just know it means she was not happy. I got to the hospital on a Saturday, but my mom and dad had been there a few days. The only thing that seemed to make her happy was coffee and candy. My mom would give her chocolate kisses, and the minute she finished one, she would shout, "more candy!" She also wanted hot coffee...really hot. At one point, it apparently wasn't hot enough for her, so she shouted, "I want HOT COFFEE. H-O-T C-O-F-F-E-E. How hard can it be?!" She was a teacher for 30 years, and she certainly hasn't forgotten how to spell. Even on her death bed she hasn't lost her fire! Grandma Dell is at home now, being assisted by hospice. I know that she will go home to be with the Lord soon, but I'm not sad. She has lived a long, full life, and has paradise waiting for her...a place where she'll be able to entertain the angels with her whit, sing and dance again, and read to her hearts content (she loved to read). I am grateful to have known this woman of faith, and know that she will live on through the stories she has passed down to her close to 30 great-grandchildren. What a woman! I love you to pieces Grandma Dell.

Sometimes good things come in big packages too...

2007-08-07T20:32:00.000-07:00

Well, it's said that a picture is worth a thousand words, but in this case, I just can't resist the temptation to pair this pic with a little story....

Today when I got home from class, Christian greeted me with a hug, shortly after a failed attempt to scare me. While stooping to hug me, my huge husband looked around him and suddenly died laughing. This is not an abnormal occurance for Christian, and I, of course, started laughing too, although I had no idea why. He then proceeded to squeeze my shoulders, while hunched over, eyes level with mine and say, "You are such a little person! Is this what it's like to be short?!" I just laughed and then watched him walk around our entire house, hunkered over to match my height, laughing and saying, "You can't see anything! You are so little!" Now those of you who know me, know that I'm not "little." I'm simply a 5' 5" average height gal. However, I guess when you're 6'4", just about anything is little to you. I love being married to this man. He finds joy in the simplest of things because he has a heart that is as big as he is. I love the fact that at any given moment, something will strike Christian as funny, and he will be doubled over in stiches. It's almost impossible not to be happy when you're around him; being the fatalist that I tend to be at times, I can see exactly why it is that God paired me with this man. He has made me a better, more joyous person. Thank you Lord for being involved in my life; without You, I would have never know Christian.....or how funny being 5'5" is.

100 things

2007-08-01T19:44:00.000-07:00

Ashley tagged me...so here it goes...100 things about me:

1. my husband christian is my favorite person in the world
2. he also makes me laugh harder than anyone i know (with alli and my sister being close seconds)
3. shelby, my sissy, would be my bff even if we weren't sisters. she gets me.
4. i love my family...we fight but make up really fast.
5. i love the color pink
6. i love hillsong united praise music...i sing it really loud in my car
7. God is my first love
8. i like to write
9. i love reading...especially anything fracine rivers
10. i love hanging out with the youth group at church
11. i am loving grad school
12. i love analyzing people and problems...especially my own
13. i think we could all use a little therapy
14. i have been described as slightly "dramatic"
15. i tried out for every play in middle school, but never got a part until 8th grade...it was a main part, so i guess it was worth the wait and torture of being a drama nerd
16. i was named "Miss Mustang" my 8th grade year....it sounds really cool, but it was an award given by the teachers
17. i like to make 100's, and i am slightly obsessed with school
18. i really wish i was sydney bristow from alias. i have a slight same-sex crush on jennifer garner
19. i get stressed when the house isn't clean, but i am really messy. kind of a conflict of interest.
20. i love the show TAPS...it's a ghost hunter show and i watch it even though it gives me nightmares
21. i love love love LOST. there is nothing better that watching it with the fam on a wed. night after church
22. i did a triathlon this year. it was so rewarding!
23. i have asthma and christian laughs at me when i take my inhaler
24. i love to dance and trained in ballet, tap, jaz and modern for about 16 years
25. i hate cats
26. the only reason i would like a cat is if it killed a bird...i hate those even more
27. my dad hates birds too
28. my friends are like my sisters. i am so blessed!
29. i love banana republic and shoes
30. i love pilates
31. i love shopping
32. i like babies, but only for about 30 minutes at a time
33. i love austin and everything about it
34. i love music...i wish i had an endless amount to spend on itunes
35. i like to travel and would love to live overseas
36. i was fat when i was little. fat + good student= nerdy
37. my mom thought i was cool
38. my parents also think everything shelby and i do is hilarious
40. mom's adoration + parent's obsession with you = false confidence
41. false confidence + 4th grade choir try outs = big disappointment
42. i'm proud of my above equation
43. i love teaching middle schoolers
44. i especially love dancing and singing in front of them until they say, "oh my gosh mrs. pimentel! stop!"
45. i really like the idea of watches, but i can never seem to keep up with them. i have lost every one i ever bought.
46. i love the movie "never been kissed." josie grossy is my hero.
47. i love to make up songs and sing them to christian
48. i like to make up dances too
49. christian makes up dances too and his are much better than mine
50. i love the spirit of the Lord; my heart overflows with love for Him
51. i wish i could see into the future and know when we're suppose to have kids
52. i want kids, but i really like being selfish right now
53. i love eating
54. if i could eat one thing for the rest of my life and not get fat, i would choose chile's chocolate molten cake
55. i love love love saved by the bell
56. i can sing just about every song from that show (oh arnie boy, any hot fudge sunday songs, all the bayside cheers, glee club songs, i'm so excited....)
56. in high school 5 of us used to do "lunch bunch" and after we ate, we would come back to campus, sit in the car and sing really loud to a cheesy 95.5 song. i guess you had to be there.
57. i am a terrible driver, but if i got graded on effort, i would get an A
58. i am easily distracted
59. i can't do anything else when i'm on the phone
60. i hate putting up laundry
61. i love beth moore bible studies
62. i have ibs
63. my mom installed track lighting in our house without telling us while we were at work. "suprise!!!!"
64. my wedding was over the top, but i loved it
65. christian loved it too....especially the fact that i had 12 bridesmaids
66. i hate math, and i think that teachers are lying when they say that you will use calculus or even algebra in real life
67. biggest trouble i ever got in at school: a referral for truency for going off campus for lunch as a junior
68. biggest trouble i ever got in at home: got caught making out big time with my boyfriend by my dad
69. biggest fight i ever got in with my sister: we fought in hs over who would get to sleep with the dog. my mom (our "mediator") physically sat on shelby and pulled our little chihuahua away from her
70. i love the beach, but hate wearing a bathing suit
71. top trip of all time: my honeymoon to london and paris
72. a very close second: trip to the bahamas with my bffs my senior year of college
73. i love the theatre, especially shows with dancing
74. i love the show "so you think you can dance" and think that shelby should try out for it
75. i love to sing songs really loud at home and pretend i am on broadway....christian just LOVES it
76. i have peed in my pants while laughing multiple times, including a few times in hs and college
77. i like to run with my new pink ipod shuffle
78. i like very large candles
79. i like movies of all kinds, especially really sappy ones
80. my garage is so WT right now....just piles and piles of stuff
81. one of the best memories from college: morning bible studies
82. another great memory: dressing up all the time and dancing around our house
83. ROW was the best roomie tradition ever
84. our house had a fake dog named pedro in college
85. my friends in hs made up this language call "L language" in hs. this is how you say hello in it: "hel-lel"
86. i can't give toasts at weddings without crying
87. i like water, but i don't drink enough of it
88. i like camping, but nobody in my immediate family does. they prefer nice hotels. what is wrong with them!?!
89. christian likes to camp too, but we have never actually been
90. i think smoking in pubic is so rude
91. best part of being an officer on the dance team in high school: huge white sequin cowgirl hat...no lie
92. i love massages
93. i sweat excessively under my arms...try teaching middle school sometime without moving your arms...it's really hard...i'm pretty good at it
94. i know parts of the ending dance from the movie "romy and michelle's hs reunion." i can show you sometime if you want.
95. i want a pet pig named allouicious
96. i am a terrible speller
97. christian tells me that i often talk in my sleep
98. i love little cutie dogs
99. i read all my blogs to christian before i post them...he is really ready for me to be finished with this one
100. this was fun

i tag my dad and chez

I Prefer Half Full

2007-07-25T14:11:00.000-07:00

Wow. There have been some major changes in our life this summer. I started grad school and, although I love it, let me tell you, I now remember why I couldn't wait to graduate.They are restructuring the youth ministry at Westover, which means bringing in a new person...total stranger...to work with Christian. Wendi and Wade, two of our best friends, are moving to Dallas. And Shelby, my best friend in the world (and sister, by the way) is going back to ACU this year. For those of you who know me, and who have read my previous blog on change, you know that the "c word" is not a very easy one for me to say...or do for that matter.

On the other hand...I have a renewed passion for ministry outside of church. Being in graduate school has opened my eyes to the world's need for the Lord; there are so many hurting people out there. I used to feel guilty that I hadn't sold all my belongings and moved to Africa to be a missionary. Now I realize that there are people all around me who are hungry for the word of God.

On the other hand...I am so proud of my husband for the way he is handling the change...prayerfully and with an optimism that I wish I had. His bottom line: love the kids like Jesus does. We have grown close in a way that only difficulty can inspire. Christian, you continually minister to me.

On the other hand...Wendi and Wade have an amazing opportunity to begin preparing financially for their future with kids. Wendi wants to stay home with them someday...I truly admire her for that. They will be greatly missed, but for good reason. They have loved people and invested in them whole-heartedly during their 2 years here. What an example you are to us!

On the other hand...Shelby finally gets to return "home" to her ACU family. I am so proud of her for putting aside her career aspirations for one year to solidify her relationship with the Lord and with all her Godly friends. I am excited for her to relish in the blessing of friendship...it is so worth it. I will really miss her (especially because she keeps me "on the daddy ticket"...j/k...sorta), but I am full of joy at the same time.

On the other hand...Change is hard, but I have to remind myself that God loves me and knows exactly what I need. Lord, you are so faithful. Thank you for being in control.

Because Wendi Said So

2007-07-07T09:37:00.000-07:00

So, I’m going to deviate a little from the blog plan because I had a special request from Wendi. Here it goes…..

Things I would describe as “sick-nasty”

1. birds
2. meat in general, unless I have carefully inspected it (those of you who know me, know what I mean)
3. cellulite
4. fruit flies in my kitchen
5. finding unwanted items in my fast food
6. baby throw up (I guess that I’ll eventually have to get over that)
7. muffin and little bit (my dogs) in their later years…ask me about it some time
8. touching the bathroom door handle at a gas station right after you’ve washed your hands
9. cleaning out my fridge
10. cleaning out the drain…especially one that’s not your own (I’ve done it)
11. sweating profusely under your arms
12. trying to take the cat I just ran over to the vet (I did that…it died)
13. trying on bathing suits
14. IBS
15. face lifts on old men

Things I would describe as “awww cutie”

1. Christian and his unrelenting desire to make me laugh
2. squeezing Shelby’s (my sister) cute little face
3. family dance at Joanna’s wedding
4. my dog Isabell
5. my 4-year-old cousin Frankie playing with his hamster, Hammy
6. the L-language
7. my mom dressing up on Halloween by herself to answer the door
8. dancing with my dad
9. seeing my friends kiss their husbands on their wedding days
10. most babies
11. laughing with friends
12. my grandparents
13. puppies
14. bad pictures
15. the ending dance scene in “Romi and Michelle’s High School Reunion”

Can I Get a Witness?!?

2007-05-28T16:48:00.000-07:00

"Kathrine, I am the teacher and you are the student. Please remember that."

-Mrs. Kunkle, Kathrine's Kindergarten teacher

I guess that being bossy comes with the territory of being the oldest child. However, if you are especially lucky, you are born with a strong will too, so that no matter what people tell you, you are either A) right or B) really right. I was one such child, with the added bonus of perfectionism and a strong desire to please. Case and point: My second grade teacher gave me a 95 on a coloring assignment. Being the strong willed, bossy perfectionist I was, I took it upon myself to march up to her and inform her that she must have made some kind of grading error on my paper. There was absolutely no way that MY exquisite coloring job deserved anything less than a 100. I pointed out to her that while other students may have outlined the jungle animals in marker, I took the time to outline the jungle animals in a darker, corresponding shade of colored pencil (which was MUCH MORE difficult, of course). I then went home and cried because I was afraid I had hurt her feelings (enter my desire to please).

In light of that, I would like to publicly apologize to all those teachers out there who I drove crazy with my intense perfectionism. I never knew how hard your job was until I became a teacher myself. All you teachers out there.....can I get a witness?!? Teaching is tough. It's full of early mornings and late nights, last minute ideas that succeed and carefully planned lessons that fail. It's enforcing rules and cutting some slack (but not so much slack that you are no longer enforcing rules). It's making mistakes and being forgiven. It's grading papers and defending your grades. It's mediating and listening. It's giving second chances and "laying the smack down." It's singing and dancing and crying and praying. It's apologizing. It's moments of bliss and moments when you feel like you've been punched in the stomach. It's being silly. It's being serious. It's knowing when to walk away, while never being able to "leave it at work." It's pleading, coaxing, and encouraging. It's putting band aids on fingers and on hearts. It's letting yourself be ministered to by the love of a child. It's balance, balance, balance. It's self-control, self-control, self-control. It's patience, patience, patience. And when it's all said and done, it's rewarding beyond anything I ever expected. It's 50 students who I will always love. It's being pulled up to the front of the room by your students to be showered with compliments. It's 50 students who took the time to share their hearts with me and my co-workers. It's packing up, walking out, and closing the door to a classroom where your life was changed for the better.

To my students: I am so thankful for you. I will always treasure my relationships with every one of you.

-Mrs. P

Sisterhood

2007-04-08T19:55:00.000-07:00

Allie

I have this picture in my mind of Allie and I sitting in her silver Honda. It’s 95 degrees outside, but the air isn’t on because Allie doesn’t notice the beads of sweat beginning to gather on my forehead. I don’t either, for that matter, because I am so busy dramatically giving an account of a story, which, at the time, is either the funniest, most annoying, most infuriating, or most unbelievable thing that has ever happened to me. I reach up to brush a piece of hair out of my eyes, and catch a whiff of the salty, spicy, greasy goodness lingering on my skin from our recent trip to Taco Bueno. “I should be writing a paper,” I think, then quickly push the thought aside to make room for the juicy story Allie is about to spill. 20 minutes pass, then 30, and before we know it, we have been sitting in front of my little one story college house for close to an hour. The engine is running, but we don’t care….saving gas and being responsible take a back seat to our conversation. Allie can always tell when I need sympathy. She understands me like no other person I know, so I revel in her presence and soak up the encouragement she offers to me freely. I’m always right in Allie’s car. Always justified. Always sympathized with. Some people might say that saving gas is important. That doing homework in a timely fashion should be a priority. That honesty is the best policy, so telling your friend that she is overreacting is the sign of a true friendship. Not Allie. She listens. She supports. She prioritizes. She laughs with me. She understands that there is more to life that doing things the “right” way. She is deeply committed to the things she loves, and her loyalty gives me a great sense of security. She will never abandon me, just as she will never abandon one of her stories (no matter how long it is), or never abandon her love of Taco Bueno (no matter what she finds in her burrito). She is loyal to the end. Loyal to her friends, to her family, and to her God. I love riding shotgun in Allie’s car….especially when we’re not riding anywhere at all!

Ashley

It’s the end of a beautiful Wednesday in Abilene. There is a slight breeze and a whisper of a cloud or two in the blue March sky. Ashley and I are sitting on our blue jean couch in the living room of our house on Morrow. I will always love that house. Soft light is pouring in through our partially covered windows, and the small pond flickers at us, still and silent, through the backdoor. We keep saying the same thing in different ways. “I should go to church tonight,” I offer half-heartedly, hoping that her response will deter me from “the right” decision. “Yeah, she replies. We should probably go.” This goes on for a few minutes, until we sheepishly smile at each and she laughingly says, “I don’t really want to go!” Relieved, I laugh, “Me neither!” Instead of engaging in worship, we opt for some therapeutic fellowship, and rush outside to pull weeds from the front flower bed. The ground is soft, but not soft enough, so we drag the hose over and flood the dark soil. With excitement fit for a 3 year old helping her grandpa in the garden, we eagerly reach our pristine white hands into the muddy soil and begin pull. We talk about life. About past hurts. About future wishes. We laugh and comment way too many times about how “therapeutic” pulling weeds is. There is a sense of accomplishment we feel, and I can’t help but think that with every weed we tug from the ground, we are also pulling tiny weeds out of our own lives.

Ashley is rational, yet sympathetic of my emotions (which is not always an easy undertaking). She is honest, yet understanding and I know that I can always count on her for the truth. She is great at pulling the weeds out of me that I can’t quite bring myself to get. What an amazing blessing it was to live with a Godly friend who not only loved me for who I was, but who also loved me enough to help me weed out my problems. Ashley, thank you for using your tools of rational insight to help me garden my life. Thanks to you, some of the most beautiful flowers in my life bloomed our senior year. (And by the way, Ash, I know that you are laughing at the corniness of this whole extended metaphor…and the fact that I just used the words “extended metaphor.”) Love you.

Brittnie

I nuzzle my head into the foreign pillow beneath me, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Good morning,” Brittnie sings from the counterpart to my cozy twin bead. She is, of course, not nearly as fatigued as I am, which stirs in me both encouragement and envy. Britt is, by nature, a morning person. And when I say morning, I mean like middle-of-the-night morning. I, on the other hand, prefer to go to bed in the middle of the night.

Clothes in hand, we make the journey from the tiny Brazilian loft upstairs to a humid peach-tiled bathroom, only to find that Brittnie’s toothbrush has been moved from the sink to the shower. Mystified, we talk in hushed tones as we stifle our giggles. “What the hec?” she laughs with a smile on her face, knowing that she has no choice but to use the now communal toothbrush.

After our dental adventure, we move to the comforts of the downstairs kitchen, ready for the day. Indecision greets us, as we marvel at the spread: bananas, bread, cheese, figs, coffee, juice. What to eat? Throwing caution to the wind, we decide to try it all. After all, what happens in Brazil stays in Brazil. When else will we be able to eat like this?!? Our precious host mother tries in vain to explain where everything is. We don’t speak a word of Portuguese, and our host family not a word of English (save the raps of M&M frequently recited in the car by their oldest son). However, Brittnie’s sweet smile reassures everyone, reminding us that it is the language of Christ’s love that matters most, and we joyfully share in the meal together.

I love it when Britt smiles. Her smile is not only reassuring. It is genuine, comforting, and joyful. Her smile is what got me through that trip. When feelings were hurt while decorating the church, I glanced at her, and she smiled. When we made fools of ourselves while playing soccer with the neighborhood kids, I motioned to her from across the court, and she smiled. When we missed our flight home and had to spend the night in the Sao Palo airport, I turned to her through teary eyes, and she smiled. Even sharing her toothbrush with an unknown foreigner brought a smile to her face! I love that a smile is her first response in life. What an incredible example you are to all of us, Britt. You are quick to listen, slow to anger and even quicker to smile. Thank you for approaching life with the joy of Christ and for being someone I can always count on to uplift me in times of trouble. I smile just thinking about you!

Jamie

My stomach was in knots as I paced the floor of my dorm room. Things hadn’t exactly worked out the way I had planned. Junior year was supposed to be the year of “firsts.” First year to live off campus, first year to live in a house, first year to have multiple roomies. Yet somehow my plans had fallen through. Little did I know that God had bigger plans for me….plans that did not involve the words “off campus,” “house,” or “roomies.” When I finally mustered up the courage to journey to second floor Sikes, I timidly approached Jamie’s room, silently praying that she would say yes. I can’t exactly remember how the conversation went, but what I do remember is that “James,” as I have come to affectionately call her, was not only accepting of the idea, but excited. And thus began the saga of James and Kathi, University Park Apartments residents.

Although the space was small, it had big personality, and we made the most of our less than perfect circumstances. Yes, my clothes were permanently piled on the end of my bed; and, yes, the giant floral arrangements from Brian filled up our entire dining room table/kitchen counter. However, I would not trade that year for anything in the world. I would not trade the plant that would not die. I would not trade the “raiding” wars with our favorite Family Guy-obsessed neighbors. I would not trade taking giant horse pills and sniffling together on the couch. I would not trade the grub costumes, handmade birthday gifts, and various other crafts that so often filled our entire living room floor. I would not trade the ridiculously embarrassing “5 minute video,” or the prank calls. I wouldn’t trade these moments because they were spent with Jamie. My silly, yet serious, supportive, yet straightforward, saint of a roomie. I would not trade her for a thousand years in a house off campus with a thousand girly roomies. She was the answer to a prayer that I didn’t know I was praying, and I will always be thankful that God placed me in that little apartment with a girl whose laugh and love for life could fill the entire complex.

Jenny

Never make a decision based on a boy, unless you are married to him. To all you girls out there reading this (because I’m sure there are SO many), heed my advice. My senior year, I got into two schools. A&M and Abilene Christian. A difficult decision, you might think. But for me, the choice had already been made before I ever even opened the envelope from A&M. I would go to ACU, of course. Why? Because my boyfriend at the time was already there. Now, I did not make my decision based solely on him, but he did make up about 50% of the reasons for going.

So, with high hopes I arrived at ACU, only to find that if you spend all your time with your boyfriend, you can’t make friends. Funny how that works. The girls on my hall were great, but I craved the deep relationships I had left behind in Austin. And no amount of late night movies, or acting silly with a video camera could replace my need for depth.

Then, as if she knew what I was thinking, Jenny walked into my room one night. She lived down the hall, and I had decided that she was one of the funniest, if not THE funniest girl I had ever met. I prepared myself to be goofy, but she suddenly surprised me; with sheer sincerity, Jenny asked for my prayers and advice, leading me to partake in one of the most memorable conversations of my life. I can’t explain the joy that filled my heart after our encounter that night; I needed that honest moment so badly, and I will never forget the precious vulnerability that Jenny modeled to me.

Over the next couple of years, Jenny and I lost touch, but God was gracious enough to bring us back together again at the end of our Junior year. Not only that, but God truly blessed me when he allowed me to live with Jenny the following year. I can honestly say that I am a better person for having lived with Jenny “Fullerton.” Her humble and honest approach to life allowed her to be my confidant, and I will always treasure our late-night conversations about life. Yes, we tended to be a little dramatic at times, but it was so fulfilling to have a friend who truly understood where I was coming from; she really believed in me. Jenny makes everyone she encounters feel like they matter, and I was no exception. Thank you, Jenny, for providing me with constant support and encouragement, even to this day.

Wendi

The summer between my Freshman and Sophomore in college was a summer of….well….serious stomach issues. It was one of the most difficult times in my life, but also one in which I grew a great deal. Freshman year had just short of sucked, and I wasn’t crazy about the idea of going back and kissing up to a bunch of upperclassmen who could potentially let me into their sorority. However, the idea of having friends was extremely appealing, even if it meant I had to “buy them.” Thank goodness for my obsessive nature, because despite how detrimental it tended be to my health (and the health of those around me), it certainly got me to pray a lot. I prayed and prayed and prayed. I prayed for school, for club, for roommate issues, but mostly I prayed for friends. There was one other time in my life that I had desperately cried out to the Lord for companionship: 6th grade. It had worked then, and I was desperately hoping it would now.

The summer ended, and I returned to school in nervous anticipation. Walking up the scuffed rubber steps of Sikes Hall, I rounded the corner on the second floor and headed up to my “new” 3rd floor room. Little did I know that the room I casually passed on the second floor would really end up being my “home.” I don’t know exactly how it happened, but like God always does, he answered my plea by placing an unexpected, yet familiar friend in my path. Thus, Wendi and I began our friendship.

I loved bounding down the stairs, hanging a left and quickly knocking on her large grey door before entering. There she would sit on her pastel montage of a bedspread, pants tucked into her socks, twirling away at her hair. You see, God did not only provide a friend when he brought Wendi into my life; He also provided an accountability partner. We spent hours that year sitting on her bed, talking, crying and praying together. Sharing my heart with her came so easily, but I soon found out that Wendi tended to bring that out in people. She is a true example of Christ: understanding, truthful, loving, and trustworthy. To this day, one of the first people I call to ask for prayers from, to share joys with or to simply laugh with is Wendi. She is a more amazing answer to prayer than I could have ever imagined, and I thank my God for placing her in my life.

Performance of a Lifetime

2007-02-01T15:59:00.000-08:00

Blake T. He asked me out in the 6th grade after the first two girls turned him down. As a slightly awkward and extremely naïve 6th grader, I didn’t realize that A) there were better options out there and B) that I could say “no” if I wanted to. We went out for 3 days, which was some kind of a record for him (and for me, as he was my first official boyfriend, if you can call it that). I called him on day three, after some coaxing from my slightly cooler friend, and dumped him. He responded as any “normal” 6th grade boy would: he had his friend call me the “b” word. No, not beautiful. I’ll let you guess. Shortly after this incident, I fell madly in love with Casey McCoy, who, in turn, fell madly in love with my best friend. I was lucky enough to be made privy of this crushing news while on a middle school retreat. My awkwardness reached it’s peak upon my discovery of the news: as I was attempting to flirt with the object of my affection by taking a football away from him, he let me down easy by screaming, “What are you doing?! Get off of me!” Talk about a crush.

I’m sure that many of you have stories similar to the one above. As a middle school teacher, I have become quite accustomed to preteen angst. It’s not unusual for students to run out of my room in tears over a break up, or for me to find notes proclaiming the “hotness” of a particular boy. “She told her that she was mad at me,” or “He paid him to ask her out,” or “She’s mad at me because I said something, and it wasn’t even mean,” or “He won’t stop asking girls out,” are not uncommon phrases heard in a middle school. There is one phrase, however, that I never dreamed I would hear, until today.

“Caitlyn Kirby has Leukemia.” The words sounded unreal, as if they were resonating through a long tunnel. Caitlyn Kirby. Pictures of red curly hair flashed in my mind. Of smiles too big for such a small face. Of freckles scattered under shining 12-year-old eyes. I thought of her singing silly camp songs while washing dishes during KP, clearly audible above all the others. Memories of her many unsolicited cheerleading performances sprang to life, and I remembered her love for the stage, whether it was a stage at a competition or simply a self-created stage at the front of our church classroom. “Caitlyn is not a sick girl. She is healthy. She is full of life.” But the voice on the other end of the phone disagreed with my thoughts. The reality overcame me, and I found it hard to swallow. Suddenly, the mountain of papers on my desk was no longer a dyer situation. Suddenly “preteen angst” had a new meaning.

God tells us that He will not let us be tried beyond what we can bear. For me, my “bearable load” during middle school was at full capacity with heartbreak. Caitlyn’s load, on the other hand, would seem unbearable to most grown adults. Debbie Benaglio told the Kirbys today at the hospital that, “God knew from day one that this was going to happen.” No, He did not cause it, but, yes, he did know that vibrant little Caitlyn would have quite a load to bear at quite a young age. He knew. He knew that with His help, she would be able to handle it. What an amazing compliment from the Father above. He has allowed Caitlyn to bear this burden because he knows that she can do it. I have watched her perform in camp skits, and I have watched her perform cheers, but now I have the great privilege of watching as she stars in the most important role of her life: faithful daughter of the King. Thank you, Caitlyn, for showing us what it means to rejoice in your suffering. You truly are a shining star of God's stage.

“And God is faithful: He will not let you be tried beyond what you can bear.”
1 Corinthians 10:13

Trendsetter

2007-01-14T22:40:00.001-08:00

There is a mural of school pictures that graces the wall adjacent to the garage in my parents’ house. The pictures are arranged in a circle, displaying the overdone bangs, oversized sweatshirts, and massive bows of my elementary school years, quickly followed by the multi-colored braces, loud vests and awkwardly grown out bangs of my middle school years and ending on the more bearable note of the butterfly clips, newly straightened teeth and hot rolled hair of my high school years. Among this short photographic history of 90's fashion, hangs a picture lovingly deemed "sheepdog girl" by my husband. If you have ever seen sheep dogs before, you know that their one distinguishing feature is the thick mop of overgrown hair, which masks their tiny black eyes. Seriously, who decided on proper dog hair cut etiquette? I mean, whoever made these decisions, in addition to loathing poodles, must have greatly underestimated the importance of a sheep dog’s eyesight. That being said, you can probably guess where the nick-name came from. As I alluded to above, the aquanetted bangs of elementary school were a big no-no by the time I was headed for middle school. I did not have much fashion sense, but I did know enough to know that bangs were on their way out by the time I reached 5th grade. Thus began my attempt to grow them out. A few months into it, I decided it wasn’t going well, so what did I do? Cut them? Clip them to the side? No, no. I was much too fashionable for that. I got a perm. I only had two friends, and, sadly, they were more fashion-challenged than me. So, when asked their opinion, they thought a perm seemed like a perfectly good solution. Having greatly underestimated the need for MY eyesight, while having greatly overestimated the beauty of a perm, I turned out looking very much like the afore mentioned sheep dog.

My sister Shelby, on the other hand, assembles outfits like Harry Connick Jr. plays the piano. Smoothly, effortlessly, perfectly. A trendsetter from day one, she had traded in mary janes for ankle high stiletto boots and striped stirrup pants for black pleated skirts by age 8. My sheep dog bangs dulled in comparison to her light, feathery bob, and my blue-jean button-up shirt couldn’t hold a candle to her blue-jean sunflower hat. I often wondered why I couldn’t pull things off like she did. To this day, I will still watch her strut into a room and say to myself, “now, why didn’t I think of that?” However, I don’t think it was her actual clothes that I envied throughout our growing-up years. Instead, it was her sheer determination to “pull it off.” She is a woman who knows what she wants. A woman of confidence. A woman of passion. Her decisions are made with purpose and clear intent, and I don’t just mean decisions regarding clothes.

Shelby started off her dancing career with a bang, starring in Mrs. Trish’s Care Bear ballet piece with 15 other 3 year olds. And although she was busy admiring her pink sequined tutu for the majority of the dance, she managed to maintain perfect turn out and stage presence. From that moment on, Shelby was destined to be a star of the stage, which is why it came as no surprise when she was chosen as our high school dance team’s Major. But even more impressive than her winning the title, was her incredible display of leadership among her peers that year. Yes, she followed her passion and confidence on her journey to success, but what made her a leader to be followed was her purpose. Above all, above trendsetter, above performer, above leader, Shelby is a child of the King. Her passion for the Lord instills in her a confidence that drives her in her purpose to lead others to Christ. She not only clothes herself in the fashions of this world, but, more importantly, clothes herself in the armor of God. She is a passionate warrior of Christ, and that is a trend worth setting.

Shelbs, I feel honored to follow all the trends you set (except maybe for the ankle high stiletto boots). Love you, sissy.

Keep the Change

2006-12-18T15:28:00.000-08:00

There is a certain amount of irrational behavior that occurs in girls starting at about age 11. Notice that I did not say, "from age 11-24," or, "from age 11-38," because I'm pretty sure that once a woman has passed the threshold of irrational behavior, they can never go back. This is not to say that every woman is irrational all the time. However, I think it would be safe to say that occasional estrogen induced irrationality is not an uncommon occurrence starting from about middle school on. My first "irrational experience" occurred when I was 11. My dad has just sold his company and my mom had been given the dreaded job of telling me that we were moving. Now, to understand my reaction, you must know that I hated change with a passion, which was evidenced by the “101 Dalmatians” decals stuck to the wall of my pre-teen room.

"We can't move!" I screamed. “We have lived in that house my entire life! All my friends are there!" I don't particularly remember my mom's reaction, but I do remember grabbing the door handle and threatening to jump out of our white and gold mini-van. It was my first try at an ultimatum. Mom says we're not moving, and she keeps her little girl. Mom says we are moving, and I jump out of a moving vehicle. Makes perfect sense, right? Needless to say, I did not jump out, but not because my ultimatum worked. Apparently you can still use child safety locks on pre-teens, even though they are not children and have it all figured out.

We moved. I hated my life for about 6 months, and then I began to realize that my parents really did know a thing or two about making good decisions. However, even though the course of my life was greatly improved by this change, I still find myself, at the age of 24, driving by the house I grew up in. You can't blame me, though, because I come by this change phobia quite naturally. You see, my Dad doesn't like change either. In fact, he had a similar reaction when his parents moved into a new house after he had graduated from college. He said to his mom, "you're selling my house!?!" OK, so it was no where near my reaction, but he was still upset. It’s not that we don’t like moving onto new and better things; I think it’s just that we treasure each moment of life and respect the fact that every experience has made us who we are. We don’t ever want to forget where we came from.

My dad has come a long way since his days of High School Band President (yes, that's right...President of the Band-Joes). And even though he has achieved a tremendous amount in the eyes of the world since his humble beginnings in Lubbock, TX, he has never forgotten where he came from. He still likes to eat fried squash and meatloaf. He’ll always cheer for the Red Raiders and eat too many funnel cakes and hotdogs at basketball games. He’ll always shine his own shoes and bargain with the salesman on any major purchase. He’ll always listen to ELO, the Beatles and Elton John way too loud in the car and have a deep respect for a good marching band. He'll always part his hair on the left and tuck in all his shirts...even t-shirts. He’ll always love baseball and Nolan Ryan. In fact, the only thing that’s changed about my dad in the area of sports in the past 35 years is his love for the Cowboys (but I think he will always secretly love them). He’ll always take the time to tell people he’s proud of them and to give of his time and money. He’ll always put his family first. He’ll always love the Lord and seek Him with all his heart, and he’ll do that not because he dislikes change, but because he feels the need to cling to his convictions.

We serve an unchanging God, one who is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. However, we also serve a God who desires change. Ironic, isn’t it? A never-changing, change-orchestrating God. So, how does a man, who has a deep dislike of change, worship this life-changing God? Trust. He trusts the Lord completely. Unlike my 11-year-old self, my dad trusts that the Lord works for the good of those who love him. And that faith in the Lord, that unchanging, unrelenting faith, has changed him forever.

Merging

2006-12-14T22:12:00.000-08:00

From the moment Allie Kelly and I got kicked out of Drivers Ed class in the 9th grade, I knew that driving was not going to be my strong point. That incident (which is another story for another time, and really not that interesting) was soon followed by a thrilling experience that took place behind the wheel of a car traveling down highway 183 during rush hour. Did I mention I tried to “merge” going 30 mph….hence the use of the word “thrilling.” Merge. I knew that you merged when you drove. I could even use it in a sentence. But actually doing it was a completely different thing. Not to mention, it was my second time ever behind the wheel of a car, and I had the added bonus of car accidents running in my family (also another story for another time, but much more interesting). However, I did have the advantage of a very encouraging teacher. As she was yelling at me to “merge,” she also was kind enough to ask me, “do you see all those cars moving? They’re swerving because they’re trying to get away from YOU!” This word of encouragement, of course, did wonders for my driving at the moment and for my future confidence as an operator of a large killing machine.

As scary as it was, I received my official Diver’s License on my 16th birthday, accompanied by a forest green Jeep with gold stripes. Yes, I said gold. And I looked hot in all the pics my mom took of me sitting on the hood of my new jeep in front of my local branch of DPS. Eventually I learned to merge, so that cars no longer had to swerve out of my path, and 3 accidents and 1 ticket later, I had become what you would call an “experienced driver.”

Merging. When witnessed from afar, it appears rather simple, but it’s not that easy is it? You not only have to plan ahead, but you have to step out on faith, even if it is a small amount of faith, and hope that some random stranger will let you in.

Christian and I were talking tonight about truly knowing people. I mean, do you ever really know a person? Do you think that Adolph Hitler’s mistress ever thought him capable of mass genocide when he was simply Adolph the painter? In truth, entering into a relationship with someone is much like merging. You not only have to step out on faith, but you have to hope and pray that the other person will be willing to let you in (and that he or she will not be a complete psychopath). And then there’s the planning thing. But in my opinion, God is much better at that than me. I am eternally grateful to the Maker that, in His graciousness, he changed the plans I had for my life and allowed me to merge with such an incredible man of God. No, merging for us was not easy, nor was it done perfectly, but there are not words to adequately describe the pure joy of being let so deeply into another’s life. To be headed down a new road that you know has much greater purpose and possibility than your road before is an amazing, yet humbling feeling. Thank you, Christian, for letting me in, for leading me down a more beautiful path, and for putting faith in our Maker. You are, and always will be, the best merge I ever made.

Barnabas

2006-12-14T22:07:00.000-08:00

There are very few people in the world who have the ability to make others feel the way that Jenny Thompson does. You are my Barnabas. Thanks for reading my blog, Fuller-than-yo-mama. More on her later....

World War III

2006-12-11T20:07:00.000-08:00

I like to joke and tell people that if they missed WWIII, it's because they didn't live in the Skidmore household from approximately 1998-2001 (which just happens to be the exact years I attended high school. Complete coincidence.) Some people would call our family dramatic. I prefer the term passionate. Shelby was not being dramatic when she climbed on the roof and threatened to kill herself if I didn't let her sleep with the dog. She was simply very passionate about the fact the Isabell needed a good nights rest. And I was not being dramatic when I ran to my room crying on Valentine's Day because the card my father gave me took 2 lines to say, “Happy Valentine's Day, sweetie. I love you,” while the card he gave my sister took 8 lines to say the exact same thing. I was simply passionate about the fact that the love (and lines) needed to be equally distributed among siblings. If there was a game called “Passion,” and my family played, my dad would briefly regret his third place victory (while claiming he had "nothing to prove" by wining a game), Shelby and I would be yelling/crying over who got second place, and my mom would, without a doubt, be singing “I won, I won, I really really won” in a mock opera voice. My mom is many things, but what makes her “Millie” is her passion. And I don’t mean drama. I mean passion. Just today, she took my great aunt coffee (as she does every day), made Christmas gifts for all her niece’s teachers, took her sister dinner, ran errands for Shelby, helped me make 20 Christmas gifts for my colleagues at work, and took me and Christian out to eat. If that doesn’t take passion, I don’t know what does. And I didn’t even tell you about her plans for tomorrow. She is an endless supply of selfless energy, and, unlike OPEC’s, hers is completely free. It doesn’t cost a thing. I guess what I’m trying to say is that she loves like Christ loves: without any catches, expectations or ulterior motives. She loves because Christ loved her first. Now that’s worth being dramatic about.

Late Bloomer

2006-12-10T12:52:00.000-08:00

I am a late person. If an event starts at 7:00, you can almost guarantee that I will fail to make my entrance until 10 past. I send out Christmas cards around New Years, I still don't have a wedding album, it took me 4 months to change my name after getting married (and 3 months to replace the new driver's license I lost one week later), and even as we speak I am setting up this thing called a "blog," which most of my friends have had for at least a year now. My justification for this "thorn in my side" (and in my husband's side as well): humility. This little imperfection (among many others) keeps me humble. It also makes me who I am. Isn't it true that so often our greatest imperfections are the flip side to that coin which bears our greatest strengths? I have yet to find out what the flip side of my "imperfection coin" is, but I'm sure I'll figure it out one day....when I get around to it.

All that to say, I am blessed by the little idiosyncrasies of the people I come into contact with each day. I am blessed by their imperfections. I am blessed by their strengths. I am blessed because the Lord has beautifully crafted them to be just the way they are; He has gifted them in ways he did not necessarily gift me, and I want to not only admire their gifts from afar, but relish in them. Seek to learn from them. Mirror them.

So here's the plan. Each time I blog, I am going to highlight a particular person whom I admire. They may be a close friend or family member. They may be a child in my class. Or they may just be an acquaintance or stranger I speak to in line at HEB. You have blessed my life with your gifts, and I want to share that with the world (or maybe just the 8-10 people who actually read this).