Brando 1, Callie 0

Okay, so I've been trying out some new recipes lately. All successful.

Kinda.

Okay, most of them successful.

I mean, I guess this one could be considered a success since I thought it was GREAT, but it's non-success lies in the disapproval it received from Brandon.

As a general rule, my husband eats the R O Y G (B I V) (These three count if you apply the rule to cotton candy, ice cream, or cotton candy ice cream.) colors, of the food color spectrum, of course with the added brown, white, and occasional black.

Well tonight we had manicotti, which consists of spinach, chicken, ricotta, mozzarella, and tomato sauce.

It's heavenly goodness in a noodly shell.

But Mr. Picky, to my surprise, scarfed down his shell and left the room. I thought, a little smug, oh, maybe he's getting more!

But he happily reentered with a bowl of cereal.

I thought, Oh hell no Hmmm...let me inquire as to why he is eating cereal.

I tried to force my best "innocently offended" face and said, "So...you didn't like it?"

I might of thrown a little chin quiver in there just for good measure.

He replied with all the superior grace of a gentleman , "Nah baby. I just like two month old stale cheerios."

Smirk...

Silence...

Wince.
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Out with the old, in with the new.

He has turned on me.

And quite frankly, I'm heartbroken. Our relationship just isn't what I thought it was.

I thought everything was fine, ya know. I mean, how do see you this kind of thing coming? Maybe I wasn't intuitive enough. I thought we were happy. We've been doing this for a long time now.

He was the object of my desire every morning. All night I dream of his strong, rich aroma and the warmth that envelopes around me when I finally get to enjoy him.

I need that feeling of security and contentment that he gives. I need to know he can be there for me, but lately...I've just been disappointed. He never gives me what I want. It's all about him.

I mean, I always put him first-no matter if kids were crying or the facebook needs checking. I give him sponge baths and sing his praises, and he gives me what? A mess all over the counter that I have to clean up first thing in the morning. An extra fifteen minutes until my needs are met. Well, I can't do it anymore. I won't. I will not settle for less than I deserve, and I deserve fulfillment.

I'm replacing him. It's going to be emotional, I know. But I can do this. I have to liberate myself or I'll stay in this unsatisfying relationship forever.

And I've already found a replacement. In wall-mart the other day I noticed him. He was tall and dark. I even checked out the back and all the necessary features were there. Will he bring me happiness? I think so.

Mmmm...Mr. Coffee...This is going to be a good thing. Pin It

Three year old wisdom

My children give me insight into my soul.

What's that? What do you mean a statement like that requires an explanation? Sigh. Oh fine, I'll indulge you.

I often ask Graysen to be her brother's keeper, and she rarely disappoints. She follows him around expectantly, eagerly waiting to be able to call him out on his wrongdoings.

So this afternoon as I was reluctantly happily making dinner, I called out to Graysen asking if Noah was being a bad boy. Her reply? "No, he's happy."

Curious response. So curious in fact, that I thought about it a lot of the afternoon.(Okay, I'm a stay at home mom...How much do I really have to do? Oh, bug off...) Anyway, I think my insightful little sprite is onto something that some adults haven't figured out.

She realizes that obedience brings happiness and disobedience brings sorrow. Poignant for a three year old... Is this epiphany material? Probably not. Is it stunningly convicting? I think so.

So I've already confessed in my previous blog that I haven't been a very good girl as of late. Well, I haven't been a very happy girl as of late either. And forgive me if I sound like a clincher in a Nicholas Sparks novel, but I'm convicted that the reason for my recent peril is my ineffectual dwelling upon the failures of the people around me to meet my needs.

Well... are their needs being met? I can't remember the last time I asked myself that question. I think... sometimes we have to give to receive...(I know, I just gagged too.)

But seriously, I am not serving the needs of my family. And more importantly, I am not being obedient to the Father. My disobedience has chained me to my sorrow, and instead of worrying about the chain, I bark and howl at everyone around me. I am not rejoicing in the Lord always, nor am I looking after the interest of others. I am just worried about how they are not fixing me.

I am happiest when I get what I want am being obedient to my Creator. I must have the attention span of a goldfish to have to remind myself of that so often...but what joy comes from remembering that my Savior was perfectly obedient! He suffered my death because He knew I couldn't do it. Wow. Hallelujah, what a Savior.

"To see the Law by Christ fulfilled,
To hear His pardoning voice,
Changes a slave into a child
And duty into choice."


I promise my next entry will be light and fun and not at all thought provoking. Pin It

Thanks anyway

I think you should know, I'm a whiner. I often feel sorry for myself. True story. I do.

As a young mom and housewife, I often feel like I spend all my time working effortlessly to do things for my family that no one appreciates. And unlike some people, I take no pleasure in martyrdom. It's unrewarding. And I take little pride in being self-sacrificing unless someone is there to see it and reward me with a cookie...there, I said it.

Now, lately I've been feeling extra sorry for myself due to an overall increase in the stress level at the Morgan house. Tension is high and there is little room for praise and adoration for mommy, which is no good, seeing as how I need those things. And I have felt like an annoyance to my husband and a tyrant to my kids. And I want to believe that I don't deserve to feel that way, but the truth is...

I am chief of sinners. I hate being submissive. I am a tyrant to my kids. I completely lack self-control, and I hate being selfless, even when it's absolutely necessary. And no, I'm not just being self-deprecating. There are things I do like about myself-probably too many for me to NOT be considered a little vain, but in a stroke of grace I realize that I too often find myself complacent in my sin. And I'm saddened at my measly attempts to justify myself and feel self-righteous. What am I thinking? I'm saddened that my family has to live with me this way most of the time and I'm grateful that they love me, even in this messy state that I'm in.

Thanks guys.

And at the risk of seeming a little melodramatic...

The past five years have been filled to the brim with laughter, tears, hard work, laziness, selfishness, self-sacrifice, loneliness, companionship, snuggles, conversations to be proud of, and conversations that are best stored in the repressed memory section of your brain. In all these, Brandon, I love you. And I'm grateful for you.

I poorly suffice to give you the thanks you deserve for putting up with me in my radiantly sinful glory. I'm so thankful to be the girl next to you in family photos, and I'm proud of you for your hard work and obvious sacrifice. This home is the happy, comfortable place that it is because of your passion for the gospel and understanding of grace and sufficiency in Christ.

Thank you so much for being the strong leader that I absolutely require, but never deserve. Pin It

Funny, funny.

Tonight Graysen told her first joke.

She watches Dora the explorer(which I'm not proud of), and she often pretends that she is Dora. So tonight we went out to eat, and while waiting for our food to arrive we "played" Dora. Graysen was Dora(the heroine), as usual. Noah was Boots(the sidekick), as usual. Brandon was Benny(the cow), as usual. And mommy was to be Swiper the Fox(the swiping villian), as usual.

So quickly upon commencement of the game, I swiped her napkin. This required that she yell out "Swiper no swiping, swiper no swiping!", at which point I return the napkin and reply, "Aw man, aw man!". This is a careful reenactment, seeing as she gets mad if you don't correctly portray the character. So it's funny and we laugh. Then Dad decides to do the Swiping(under the name Benny of course- theres no breaking character allowed), and he swipes the napkin. The rest follows the normal formula.

Now Boots(Noah) has been doing his own thing...eating his own napking(which Dave Gardner would say is southern for napkin, beating on the table, that sort of thing. But as Graysen turns to laugh at Daddy, he spies that the napkin has been left unguarded and swipes it quickly out from in front of her. To this Graysen looks at us and giggles, then replies, "Swiper, no Swiping!" And bursts into a fit of laughter...she realized for the fist time that she could be funny.

If you don't know anything about the Morgan family, I'll tell you this. Original sentences are a scarcity. Most Morgan dialogue consists of snippets from movies, books or old tv shows. Entire conversations can take place without anyone using "normal" dialogue. It's really odd, and apparently, it's genetic. Pin It