Showing posts with label misc.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label misc.. Show all posts

Saturday, June 11, 2016

Teaching Prudence to Girls

I'm catching up on news today and read three letters written in regard to the Stanford rape case--the victim's, the defendant's mother's, and the defendant's. In some ways, each letter appalled me. The victim's letter was outstanding. She knows how to show and not tell--something even successful authors sometimes fail to master--so that we the readers could feel as though we were right there with her, experiencing it as well. It was very powerful and I hope it's widely read, especially by men. Her suffering can't be fully comprehended by most of us, but we can come as close as possible through reading her words. She worked unselfishly in this case, enduring more pain through the trial to pursue justice, partially to give other women a voice and some validation. I salute her courage.

However, in trying to empower women and tell them they have worth, she failed in a most obvious way. What about..."You have worth. Take care of yourself in every way, including not consuming alcohol at coed parties. You are too valuable to feel you are entitled to drinking, just because it's a party and everyone is doing it, and you want to have fun."

The man who violated this woman is a criminal with no excuse. He should spend the six years in prison the prosecution tried to get. Not everyone is capable of such evil just because they are drunk. His actions were beyond horrible; he's morally bankrupt.

But in regard to all the women involved in these rapes I ask this: When are we as a society going to start advising women to avoid drinking at coed college or high school parties? Or with a man you can't absolutely trust? Isn't it obvious that this puts you at risk? Isn't it obvious that we live in a society where athletes are put on a pedestal, which appears to morally bankrupt them as they develop a sense of entitlement? Acknowledging this and warning girls is just smart, not sexist or victim-blaming. I don't blame the victim for the evil criminal mind of the predator. But how many girls' lives are going to be destroyed before we say publicly to girls--stay away from coed drinking parties? Why is this not okay to say, publicly? It's not politically correct and that is just tragic.

This, the victim's words: ...Again, you were not wrong for drinking. Sipping fireball is not your crime....Alcohol is not an excuse. Is it a factor? Yes. But alcohol was not the one who stripped me, fingered me, had my head dragging against the ground, with me almost fully naked. Having too much to drink was an amateur mistake that I admit to, but it is not criminal. Everyone in this room has had a night where they have regretted drinking too much, or knows someone close to them who has had a night where they have regretted drinking too much. Regretting drinking is not the same as regretting sexual assault. We were both drunk, the difference is I did not take off your pants and underwear, touch you inappropriately, and run away. That’s the difference.

She is right that there was a difference, but she doesn't go far enough to empower other girls to avoid her fate. "Having too much to drink was an amateur mistake that I admit to, but it is not criminal." Does this fully communicate to college girls and women about how dangerous alcohol use is in coed environments? Sadly, it doesn't, as inspiring as it may read.

If we want to empower girls, why not tell them they are worth too much to take such risks? For example, I don't put my girls in short shorts or short skirts because pedophiles exist and they are turned on by skin, and as an adult, I am supposed to accept that reality and protect my girls accordingly, at church, at the store and in my own yard and home. I am their protector and I take it very seriously, as I do the importance of teaching them to protect themselves. I know the world and I have to make decisions on their behalf, so they can remain children.

We shouldn't live in fear of criminals, but we should teach our children that they exist in all parts of society. Love yourself enough to exercise great care. Learn to survive in the society you do live in, not the one you wish you lived in. Evil boys and men exist and you'll find them in every college and at every party, and beyond.

Do my girls have a right to wear whatever they want? Yes. Should they assert that right? No. Wisdom says no. Do girls have a right to go to coed parties and drink? Yes. Should they assert that right? No. Wisdom says no. Whatever happened to raising girls with wisdom?

Don't misunderstand me. However much a girl drinks, or however much skin or curve she shows, she is still not responsible for someone else's criminal actions. And even a conservatively-dressed girl or women can be victimized, surely. Dressing appropriately is like sunscreen. It's a precaution not a guarantee. Never going out alone at night is a precaution, not a guarantee. But I will still preach the wisdom of both, over and over again.

This young woman will undoubtedly be stronger for what she has had to endure, but this pain is not what God intended for her life. It was avoidable and could have been avoided if in our politically correct society, we were honest with girls. Some men are predators, period. Living wisely is a virtue. Can we call prudence a virtue? Can we go back to teaching prudence as a regular part of parenting both girls and boys?

A whole other post needs to be written about teaching boys to respect women, but many other writers have already written it, including the victim in this case, who described the respect we are after pretty well, though with a secular flare. Whether or not a woman respects herself as thoroughly as she should, a boy should always be taught to respect all women.  While it's true that not all women are worthy of becoming our son's wife, they are all worthy of respect, earned or unearned. Every human being is created in the image of God, worthy of respect as His child.

The victim's mother's letter was disturbing because she spent most of it bragging about her son's achievements, as though they excused his actions, or as though they in and of themselves deserved to be given a chance. She appears to be a mother after the things of this world, mostly. She mentioned toward the end that she was proud of how her son treated the disabled, but that was all negated by how he treated the woman in question, who was disabled by alcohol.

It was a hollow, shallow letter, and seemingly one on which the judge put too much emphasis in making his decision. It made me want to weep for this mother, reading about how hollow her life is. She said they would never be happy again, as though it's only through achievement that we can gain happiness. This is a family without hope because they were without depth to begin with, not to mention without the One who is Hope. I hope her son doesn't commit suicide, but it's a possibility if they brought him up to value achievement and nothing more. Suicide is sometimes the result of mental illness, but it can also result from an upbringing that emphasized the things of this world, as opposed to the things of the soul.

Pray for the country and its young people, for they've been sold a bag of soiled goods from a country seeped in sin. We're failing them.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

A Stray Dog and a Prayer


They begged and pleaded, and we said no and no and no. We can't afford a dog right now. We can't afford a dog right now. We can't afford a dog right now.

You get the picture, yes? How this sounded week after week, as soon as they had opportunity to pet a dog somewhere? Or see a dog movie?

Finally, I changed my answer to their pleading, as I often do when they plead for something that costs money: Whatever you think you need, pray about it. If God agrees, he will provide it in time.

About 18 months ago, we adopted a dog who kept snapping at the kids, though not actually biting them. We gave it three months, before giving him back to the rescue operation, when a particular snapping scared us pretty badly.

The kids and I mourned the loss of the dog, but we knew rescue dogs often have serious issues. We couldn't afford a professional trainer, or risk a bite either, for that matter. We waited for God to drop a suitable dog in our laps, along with the funds for purchase. It was just too distracting for Peter to peruse dog sites constantly (obsessively). Many of the rescue fees were $200 per dog.

Fast forward about 12 months.



One of the neighbor kids found the little guy pictured above--a German Shepherd mix we presume--roaming the neighborhood. She kept it at her house, and posted lost dog ads on three different websites. She's had the dog a week, and she daily brought him over here for outdoor playtime in our fenced yard. My kids became attached to the dog's puppy-like energy and fetching antics, not to mention his loving ways. He marks his territory already, which I think occurs in male dogs six months and over, especially if they haven't been neutered (he hasn't been).

About this same time we learned that the neighbor girl's family is losing their house at the end of the month, and they still hadn't found a home for the dog. They already have one dog, and this new one doesn't take well to other dogs, though he doesn't seem to guard his resources (food or water or toys).

I thought of all the reasons keeping the dog here was a bad idea, especially since I didn't know how long he had been a stray or what issues he might have--though he seemed like a great, fun-loving, energetic dog, perfectly matching my children's energy levels. As well, German Shepherds make good therapy dogs. I watched closely out the window each day and noticed that the dog seemed to keep Peter's OCD at bay temporarily.

Finally, with everything considered, God spoke to my heart and He changed my no to a maybe...we might be able to see how it goes, if Daddy agrees. The Lord reminded me of the kids' sincere dog prayers. We had to assume that if God provided a free dog, he would also provide for his food and other bills.

We're still in the first 24 hours of possession, but we can all tell the dog--who appears to be between six months and a year old--has been housetrained and at least knows something of a dog crate, although the neighbor girl let him sleep on her bed, which spoiled him. Our pediatrician has long said "no pets in the bedrooms" because of allergies, so bedroom sleeping is not an option for us.

We're rusty with crate usage and forgot to lock its side door when we went to the dentist yesterday, and he got out of it, without damaging the house, thank goodness. And last night he whined in it for 45 minutes, before falling asleep (from midnight to 6:30, when my husband went to the kitchen). We're hoping for more sleep tonight. I believe he's old enough to sleep eight hours, once he acclimates here.

We plan to take him to a vet who does free microchip checks, to try to find an owner, before claiming him as ours. Taking him for frequent walks should also help us find an owner, if he lived in this neighborhood.

The neighbor girl was undisciplined with him and allowed mouthing during play, which we will have to train out of him if we want to keep him. It's mild, however. I told the kids not to do tug-of-war games that encourage mouthing.

We'll keep you posted. Needless to say, I've got some happy, grateful kids right now.

Do you have a dog? How did the crate training go at night, after the initial potty training? I've read three or four articles on it, but I still feel less than confident in it. That whining was hard to take last night, but I stood firm, knowing to give in was the worst thing I could do, and not having the luxury of time to acclimate him slowly. I couldn't let a stray dog have the run of the house or even the kitchen, nor did we have enough barricade items, since he jumps. He seemed like he had at least seen a crate before as he went in readily, but not sleeping in one ever, or at least for a time, was a problem.

We don't care for the name Pedro, which is what the neighbor girl gave him, but for training purposes we will keep it for now, and maybe even get used to it.



Monday, May 4, 2015

Raccoon Happenings

Who's cuter, Her Royal Highness Charlotte Elizabeth Diana, or little baby raccoon here? Just kidding...baby Charlotte is a gorgeous baby! Congratulations to my UK readers. The news is so often horrifying, and baby news was a welcome respite as we welcomed Charlotte.

Hubby and Momma Raccoon went a few more rounds this weekend. Peter got some good pictures during the "battle". This is one persistent raccoon!

Pictured above is one of her babies, left behind and discovered behind the shed door, shaking with fright. Hubby used a dustpan to scoop her up, then placed her in a storage box and set it at the corner of our yard, next to the fence Momma Raccoon uses to get in and out of our yard. Our hope was that Momma would hear the baby and come for it. Raccoons make a unique call, which is a cross between a bird and tree frog sound.

My own and several neighbor kids oohed and awed over baby, and all wanted to keep her and raise her, as you might expect. :) We had our hands full watching over the kids, making sure they didn't get their hands too close to the baby. It certainly made their Saturday very exciting, to say the least. All they had on their agenda together was baseball, prior to the baby's arrival on the scene.

Momma Raccoon did indeed come for her missing baby, but it took about five hours, during which baby raccoon burrowed in some insulation to keep warm and comforted. As soon as we spotted the Momma, we placed the box over the fence on its side, which almost scared her away. But then she heard her baby's tree-frog-like calls, noticed it in the box and quickly grabbed baby by mouth. Momma was so frightened at us watching her, that at first she didn't grab the baby correctly, and baby growled at her. Then, Momma adjusted her baby better, and took off down into the nearby gutter.

 



We thought that would be the end of it, so hubby did more construction on the shed Saturday afternoon and evening, intent on keeping the raccoon family out (but he left the greenhouse part of the shed intact). He also chopped some branches off the pear tree which Momma Raccoon climbs to get on our shed roof.

No sign of Momma on Sunday, but on Monday she came back, snooping around. She couldn't, or didn't try, jumping from the tree to the roof, so that was victory one. After circling the shed, she couldn't quickly find another way in, so victory number 2. If she gets desperate enough, she could do serious damage to the siding in other places, but we hope that doesn't happen. We made some noise and chased her away, in case her memory is too short.

Snooping around on Monday.

More snooping around on Monday.

Looking straight at Peter. She has a healthy fear and doesn't ever get too close to us, though she thinks nothing of coming into the yard when my kids are hosting neighbor kids for baseball. When we spot her, I send everyone home.


How was your weekend, friends? How's your new garden coming along? We're having a heat wave so Peter is putting our garden in slowly.

Friday, April 24, 2015

Raccoon is back!


This is broad daylight! Momma raccoon thought we would be stupid enough to leave the grill off the shed attic. My guess is that when the freezing nighttime temps returned, she wasn't content to live in someone's tree, or in the rain gutter (or someone else ran her out of their shed). She's climbed the tree and the roof twice trying to get the grill off while still keeping her baby in her mouth. We hadn't seen her since my husband scared her out last weekend with a chainsaw, and then boarded up the damage she caused in the siding.

She went running out at the sound of the chainsaw, then returned that night for her babies. Husband deliberately took the grill off and left it off so she would go back and retrieve her babies. I saw her take two babies out but I don't know how many there were in total (usually 1 to 6, born in March or April).

We've seen raccoons around here for a few years but never living on our property. They are somewhat used to people and like all the trash cans they can easily raid. Raccoons are capable of opening doors and jars, if you can believe it. Getting rid of her won't be so easy, with so many sheds and trash cans around.

In California all one had to do was call animal control, but here in Ohio there's no public service for wild animal removal, and typically it costs a few hundred dollars to trap one, and a few thousand to get them out of an attic, and you're not allowed to hurt them or do any poisoning or the like (not that we'd want to do that).

The kids and I are wondering if she's being so persistent because she may have already transferred one baby into the back door of the shed, before Peter noticed that it was opened and closed the door.


Have you ever had a raccoon in your yard? What worked for you?

Friday, December 21, 2012

Merry Christmas, 2012

My only Christmas purchase so far has been a turkey for Christmas dinner. Yes, that means I've successfully escaped the crowds.

But now, on our first real snow day of the year (we've only had a teaser snow thus far), we're off to buy ingredients for the rest of our dinner, and for cookies for our neighbors. The snow, while inconvenient for shopping, is a blessing. The countryside has been muddy and dreary with lots of rain. Mary and I prayed the Lord would dress it up in time for Christmas, and He answered yes!

We'll be buried in flour and sugar and butter for the next 24-36 hours as we prepare trays of cookies to go with the Jesus Storybook Bibles we're giving to neighbors. Please pray that hearts are prepared to receive this love offering...even those whose hearts may be hostile to the gospel?

I will be praying for you and yours as you gather together this Christmas. Those of us without many Christian relatives need extra prayers this season, as our hearts yearn to share the joy with loved ones. If you need specific prayer for your holiday get togethers, please make a comment. It won't be published but I will pray faithfully for you in the coming days.

Christmas can be so very beautiful as we celebrate the coming of our Savior, Jesus, the wondrous, saving gift God planned from the beginning of time. On a night in Bethlehem so long ago, the answer to our soul's wandering and sorrowing finally arrived. The answer to every tear, every heartbreak, every sin. I pray that the miracle of his coming sets your heart afire this season, and I pray that all who fellowship with you will be overtaken by the Holy Spirit, as they experience your awe in Him.

Christ the True Light

I want to say how much I've enjoyed your fellowship this year, dear readers. Thank you for your love, encouragement and prayers. You've been such a joy to me! I love you dearly.

The wireless card on my late-night, early-morning studying computer is dying and loading pages has become a tiresome affair. I hope to get that fixed and be back to publishing Bible studies soon.

Merry Christmas!

Saturday, December 15, 2012

The Things Kids Say

Last week's preschool AWANA verse involved the word follow, as it related to the disciples following Jesus. The teacher asked what it means to follow someone. No one answered, although I'm sure most were capable of explaining follow if they'd been willing.

Next, the teacher asked, "What does it mean to follow your teacher?"

Bobbie, our newest girl, raised her hand and answered, "It means you get lost."

___________________________________________________________________

Last night I was in the bathroom washing my face and brushing my teeth while Mary watched and talked with me. We had just finished a serving of Mary's 6th birthday cake, on which she'd requested sprinkles. (Yes, Beth also had a recent birthday, six days ago. They are now 4 and 6 years old!)

Anyhow, I mentioned to Mary that I don't think I'll put sprinkles on my birthday cake because I don't like the way they feel crunching between my teeth.

Mary responded, with a puzzled look, "Do you even have a birthday?"

____________________________________________________________________

A couple weeks ago the AWANA teacher asked the preschoolers, "What does it mean to please God? How do you please him in your home?"

Lily, the spunkiest preschooler, responded, "When my dad needs to give me a spanking, I bend right over and get my bottom ready." 

A few minutes later, Lily ran her fingers through her blond curls. "Oh, my hair! I can't do anything with it. It needs a shampoo."

Sunday, September 30, 2012

A Note to Readers

A note to my readers:

I've lately written about various neighbors to help illustrate God's teachings and God's heart and His work in my life. I think it's time to let you know that care is taken to preserve privacy. The stories are true and the situations represent actual life circumstances and brokenness, but enough is altered to protect privacy and prevent hurt feelings.

As well, I am careful not to reveal my location or our real names on this blog. As always, thank you for reading and for your encouraging comments.

Friday, November 18, 2011

Sorry For My Self-Righteousness

Sorry about the self-righteousness of the Christmas post. Even though I don't go on these Compassion trips, I still have some "re-entry" problems after them. It's hard to reconcile first-world values with pressing world need, but self-righteousness is never the answer. 

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Out Of My League

A good friend e-mailed me, asking if I wanted the contact information for her college friend, whose 3-year-old daughter has JRA.

I said yes, but I sat on the information for a while. Finally, today, I e-mailed her friend, asking about arthritis flares. What causes them? Can I prevent them?

The Internet couldn't help me with this question.

I'm shy. Did I ever mention that? Writing a complete stranger doesn't appeal to me. But neither does too little information.

Ask my husband. Information arms me. To a fault. He doesn't understand how anyone could love research. I never actually said I loved it, mind you. He declared that. And I admit it's true. I'm a research junky.

The reply was very quick. From a Blackberry. She was very outgoing, nice and gracious. She wrote a few paragraphs, then asked if I could call her...she'd love to help me figure out the JRA maze. Or was I on Facebook?

Oh, boy, I thought. She writes me from a Blackberry--I type this word as though I know what a Blackberry is, do you notice that--and asks me if I'm on Facebook.

I'm out of my league. In the second e-mail--still very gracious, interested, and out-going (Did I mention I'm shy?)--she said I could call her or text her.

Text her?

Do people actually have conversations on Facebook, or just post things? I didn't know it was like e-mail. Come to think of it, if it's like e-mail, then, well, what's wrong with just using e-mail? Why is e-mail out of vogue?

And isn't texting like e-mail? I've never done it, but isn't it just typing a message to someone? Who wants to type one-fingered, using keys so tiny, I can barely make contact with them, let alone see them with my forty-plus eyes? Why is this in vogue?

So, if texting is like e-mail, only harder, then...what's wrong with e-mail?

Don't even get me started on ipads, ipods, iphones, and Kindles (what's wrong with books? Is turning pages out of vogue?).

Did I leave any i-thing out? And are ipads and ipods actually phones? Or is the iphone the only phone?  If you have an ipod or ipad or Blackberry, do you still need a cell phone? Or are they out of vogue?

I clearly don't belong in this era.

To be continued....little one keeps waking up. My topic wasn't going to be technology, interestingly enough.




Wednesday, August 31, 2011

knees and blessings

Miss Beth's sprained knee is still swollen, though she seems to have full use of it most days. Pediatricians commonly tell worried parents that toddlers will stay off their injuries when necessary, unlike adults who try to push themselves. Well, she re-injured it on Monday, so I'd say that's not necessarily true. Though less swollen than the first forty-eight hours, there's still visible swelling and I'm concerned that the longer the fluid stays around, the more chance for infection in the joint. They'll eventually decide to insert a needle and drain the fluid if it stays around too long.

Yesterday morning she started with a limp again, and I considered taking her back to the ER, but after the stiffening subsided and the limp stopped, I changed my mind.

In an attempt to keep her off of it, we are trying to run extra errands and keep her in a stroller or carseat. Since I sold a little more curriculum, we went to a thrift store yesterday to gather fall/winter things for Miss Mary, who only had two pairs of pants to start the season. I hate getting myself into a one-to-wash-one-to-wear laundry situation. That never works around here.

In other news, my Peter--regular readers might recall--prays every summer for a praying mantis. Around this time they are full grown and more visible. Once again, the Lord provided, as you'll see below. 

Running into the house, Peter yells, "I caught a praying mantis!  Jesus told me to look in this one bush and at first I said to myself there was nothing there. Then I decided to look and I found a female mantis! Maybe we'll get an egg sac!" 

All these clothes are like new, though I'm not sure the pictures show that.



A Talbots jumper for church

pink Gap chenille pullover

Children's Place layering sweater in red

Old Navy fushia stripped hoodie

red Esprit sweatshirt

Simple shirt dress from Walmart, new

Cherokee jeans, look brand new though the picture makes them look old

new Arizona jeans with diamond jewels on pockets

A pair of new jeans for Peter and new navy cords for Paul (not pictured)






Always love finding book treasures at the thrift store! I'm sure there were more classics, but with four kids along, I could only look briefly.

Can you tell she wasn't thrilled about a picture just then? I'm mourning the loss of my sweet girl! While she still cuddles lovingly, there is much more attitude and whining over minor things. A stage I hope? She will be five in December.


Wednesday, August 24, 2011

elevate it, he says



Does the hospital bracelet in the background, and the swollen toddler knee give you some hint about my morning?

A sprain, not a break. Elevate it, says the ER Doc. And put on Barney. Then he winks at me, knowing full well toddlers don't stand for elevation or bedrest.

Pray for a quick recovery, with no complications?  Thank you! I'm grateful it's not worse, and praying no infection develops in the joint, which can happen with trauma.

Miss Beth fell in the driveway in the late afternoon yesterday, and it was no big deal.....

....Until this morning, when she woke up limping, sporting a fat knee. Her doctor said to take her to the ER.

By the time the ibuprofen kicked in and the doctor came in to see us--one hour, four children, small examining room, ugh!--Miss Beth was all ready to prance around the examining room like a fashion model, smiling like a little flirt the whole while.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

about those blog click stats

Just wanted to add something about blog statistics. I mentioned that only two people clicked on Kristin's Kenya story. I should add, for your comfort, that I don't know who clicks on what (and I wouldn't want to)--nor does any other blog author, unless they have some sophisticated equipment needed for crime solving, or whatever. I know little to nothing about technology.

Google blog stats show number of clicks, I assume, so blog authors will know what interests readers. Most stats seem to be designed for business blogs, or those containing advertisements or products. As such most of them are of little use to me. Interesting sometimes, but not very useful. And I write a knee-jerk, emotional kind of blog, so what people want to read doesn't usually figure in.

 I rarely have time to click on links, myself. When I sit down to read something during the day (or stand, as is often the case), I've usually got five minutes to spare. After the kids go to bed, I know that clicking on links means I probably won't get my dishes done, or my last laundry load shuffled. Dangerous.

So I know, first hand, why few moms click on links.


Another Random Topic

If I ever write a book before I die, I'm in trouble.  Publishers require you to push your own book nowadays, using blogs, Facebook and Twitter.  I'm so not a business woman.  I would abhor having to do this. Writing for magazines seems so much more appealing.

It'd be interesting to know whether self-promotion really works.  Ann Voskamp works very hard to push her book, while The Pioneer Woman, who has three books out, says very little on her blog about them, especially after publication release.  And yet both women are on the New York Times Bestseller lists for their genres.

Both women give generously to charity, so any self-promotion they do benefits the less fortunate. I find no fault in it.

Nevertheless, I hope publishers do away with the self-promotion requirement.  Not every author is also a savvy business person. Why not just ask them to picture the book on their blog, and provide a link for buying?

On a whim one day, I looked into submitting guest posts to (in)courage (a wonderful site, by the way). I found that you have to list your Twitter account, probably so they can see how many followers you have.

Is that what our society's been reduced to?  How many followers we have?

Insert eye roll here.









Wednesday, June 22, 2011

pick-your-own farms

I included this as a post script on my strawberry farm post, but for feed reader people, I am including it here again.  To find a U-pick farm near you, check this website.

Friday, April 29, 2011

a blackout

Before retiring last night I knew there was a flood warning for our area, going into the early morning.  When the power went out around 5:30 AM, I awoke with a start--noticing immediately the silent, jet black room.  The Hepa-filter fans running in two rooms make low levels roars and without them, the sudden silence was striking.

My nursing toddler barely flinched, continuing her sleepy, half-hearted sucking.  Compared to the howling gusts outside--the strength of which I'd never before experienced--I found her nursing sounds quite soothing.

My first thought?

I wished I'd checked the online weather forecast before retiring, because these winds could easily progress to tornado-like strength?  I'd woken to more earthquakes than I can count in my lifetime--being a Southern California native--but howling winds up to 60 - 70 miles per hour were entirely new, even for a fourteen-year high-desert dweller.

My second thought?

Oh yeah, we don't have a basement! (Something I'm usually happy about--I find that damp smell nauseating.)  Should I wake everyone--including husband who'd just come home from work at 4:00 AM--or assume we're all goners anyway, and try to go back to sleep?

My third thought?

If Peter wakes and notices the blackout and high winds, he'll freak out (tornadoes are one of his worst fears).

My fourth thought?

Oh boy, he's awake!  Here we go.

Peter immediately got a flashlight from the closet in his bedroom, and proceeded to tell both parents, "There's a blackout and we're going to die!"


Momma whispers, trying not to wake the nursing toddler:  "No, Peter. We're not going to die.  It's just a windy storm and the power will come on shortly. They have people working on it.  Quiet down or you'll wake everyone!"


I had folded and sorted clean clothes for Goodwill, relatives, and our drawers until 2:00 AM, eager to get the spring clothing switch done.  I then had insomnia until roughly 2:30 AM, so I'd clocked little sleep.

Peter's paranoia, I knew, wasn't going to calm--we were up for the day, like it or not.

The good news is that the baby went back to sleep for awhile, with Daddy. The bad news is that Peter woke his brother Paul, who is a night person (like the rest of the family minus Peter).  Paul usually rises at 8:00 AM, Mary around 7:35 AM,  Momma and Beth around 7: 45 AM (this late just since daylight savings) and Peter, the lone man out, around 6: 45 AM, most mornings.  Daddy often sleeps until 9:00 AM, depending on his schedule the night before.  This morning he hoped to sleep until 10:30 AM, as Wednesday night is his heaviest work night.

Peter calmed after natural light entered the house, but he and his brother made so much noise, as they roamed the house, watching and reacting to the high winds, that poor Mary was awake far earlier than her body wanted. She then came in for an earlier-than-normal cuddle, waking her little sister.

Momma made do with no electricity, by making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for breakfast, and reading as many picture books as her fatigued body could handle, with the little natural light available during stormy skies.  This calmed the troops for a while, and the power finally came back on around 9: 30 AM--with everything in the fridge and freezer surviving the blackout.

We were a tired bunch today!

Through the Lord's grace we made it through the day, with nary a ripple. And strangely enough, we never got a drop of rain during the night or day, despite the darkened skies.  They changed the flood warning to a high-wind warning.

We got though this unscathed, but so many others did not!

Please pray for this blogger's large family, who lost their home to a tornado on Wednesday? Her story, including that she just had a baby, warrants much prayer.  Her church has set up a tornado fund to help her, as well as her family and church friend, Mrs. Lee--a mother of thirteen, who lost both her husband and her home to the tornado.