Freaking Freakin.

I am thankful for the friendships God has provided me with over the years. I lived a nomadic lifestyle as a kid. My dad was in the Air Force for 20 years, and as we moved from state to state, country to country, I can see how the Lord gave me companions along the way. I've lived in the Memphis area for 12+ years (except for one year away at Hell University), and I couldn't be more grateful for the people God has strategically placed around me.

But...

I am finding myself feeling bitter about the friendships He has taken away. Bitter toward God, toward my dad's job, toward circumstances, toward choices that have been made. My brain says God is in control, and He moves people away from each other because He has better things in store for the both of them. But my heart doesn't want to hear that right now - it just doesn't take away the pain of absence.

I often find myself missing childhood friends that God moved me away from and more recent friends that God moved away from me. I am bitter/angry that I didn't get to grow up with the same group of kids my whole childhood. I am resentful that we weren't able to keep in touch, that we didn't share high school football games or college all-nighters, that we weren't at each others' weddings, that we'll never play with each others' kids.

With today's technology I can look up any old friend I choose and attempt to reconnect. But should I? Those friendships have faded to surface level "What are you doing these days?" conversations. We don't really know each other anymore. So often times touching base via Facebook or email just reopens my wounds, I think.

And what about the spiritual side of these lost friendships? Maybe God moved us apart because the relationship wasn't meant to continue. But, maybe God allowed technology to advance to this point so the relationships could continue. Maybe He still wants us to love each other deeply, with the love of Christ, despite the miles that separate us. Can we, really?

I am struggling with the answers to these questions in regards to several different long-distance friendships. I want God to tell me to pursue them, to try to rekindle the closeness that once was. I don't want Him to say cut it off and let it go. I am "asking" Him what to do, but I am afraid to hear His answers.

18 Months and Counting...

My daughter was born 18 months ago today. I can't believe she's been "out and about" for that long, but, at the same time, it is hard to remember life B.L. (Before Lexi).

Today Elian and I took Lexi for her check up. She's been sick all week with her first runny nose, cough, and chest congestion. Yesterday and today she's added diarrhea to the mix, just to keep things interesting. She hasn't had a fever, so we were able to go ahead and take her to get her vaccines.

Our last visit to the doctor was 3 months ago, and Lexi was petrified from the moment we got called back to the moment we returned safely to the parking lot. I was hoping the time that's passed would've erased Lexi's fears of the doctor, but that was not the case. In fact, I think her fears have somehow increased.

When the nurse called her name, Lexi clung to my neck for dear life and never willingly let go the whole time we were there (approx. 45 mins.) The first thing they do at every check up is ask me to take Lexi's clothes off so they can weigh her. As I began to do this, Lexi burst into hysterics. She carried on like this when the nurse measured her height and her head circumference, while the doctor sat in the furthest corner of the room and just talked to us, while he tried to listen to her heart and lungs, while he looked in her ears and throat, while he attempted but failed to check her eyes, and while he checked her hips. I had to peel Lexi off of me to make her face the doctor, but she managed to keep a handful of my neck skin clenched in her fist. Ouch. And of course the 3 shots she received didn't make her feel any better about the situation.

WARNING: This paragraph is only interesting to mothers of toddlers. Lexi has grown 2 inches in the past 3 months (for a grand total of 32.5 inches) and is in the 60th percentile for height. Her weight was 22 lbs, 13 ounces when she was 15 months old. Today it was 24 lbs, 4 ounces, which is 50th percentile. The nurse asked if Lexi is saying 4-10 words. She says at least 30, so I am guessing she is pretty verbal for her age.

The next check up isn't until Lexi is two. Maybe she will forget the horrors of the people who wear scrubs by then.

What Happpens When You Google "Barack Obama Antichrist"?

The search engine returns 497,000 links in .07 seconds.

This is ridiculous.

Two days ago I received yet another forward from a frazzled evangelical christian claiming that Barack Obama is the Antichrist. This particular email even went as far as saying that the Book of Revelation says the Antichrist will be in his 40s and a Muslim. Of course, the email didn't give the chapter and verses for the references.

I rarely comment on politics, though I do always vote. I feel like the average citizen is given so much conflicting information, both from the candidates themselves and from the media, that it is nearly impossible to get an accurate idea of what the candidates believe. Even when we are told that Candidate A voted against pro-life legislation 100 times, for example, we can't be sure if they voted against the bill because they are pro-choice or because they are pro-life except in the cases when the mother's life is in danger and the legislation being voted on didn't protect that situation. All we are told by Candidate B is that Candidate A is pro-abortion. "Facts" are hardly ever what they seem, leading me to be pretty cynical about politics... with one exception.

When people start trying to use the Bible to push their agendas, I sit up straight and listen closely. The email "quoting" Revelation made me do just that. I became angry because someone who loves Christ sent me (and MANY others) this email. They didn't open their Bibles to see if Revelation actually said something about the Antichrist being in his 40s and a Muslim; they allowed their emotions toward Obama's liberal morality to take over, clicked "Forward", and sent this garbage to everyone they know.

To make sure I wasn't missing some Biblical description of the Antichrist that did point to Obama, I emailed a pastor friend of mine. He had this to say:

"I know of no passage in Scripture that says anything that would give us any way of identifying the Antichrist except what is in Revelation 13 and 17-18. We’re not told his nationality, his age, what he will say in terms of [claiming to be a Christian or not]...but that he will set himself up as God in the temple in Jerusalem, will defeat “Babylon” in battle before the end comes, will himself be defeated in a climactic battle with Jesus (Rev. 19). It is possible that he would pretend to be a Christian because he is self-deceived or to deceive others. According to Daniel 9 he will be instrumental in brokering a peace between Israel and her neighbors that allows Israel to rebuild the temple."

Not only is it completely wrong biblical interpretation to start calling Obama the Antichrist, it is the most anti-Christ behavior we Christians can display. I am ashamed of the way some of my brothers and sisters in Christ are promoting hate and dissension toward this man that desperately needs to encounter the love of Christ.

Don't get me wrong, there are PLENTY of biblical reasons to not vote for Obama. His morality just simply does not line up with God's, and, in several cases, is the opposite of what the Bible teaches. But to place Obama on par with Satan himself does nothing but teach unbelievers that Jesus and his followers hate. They hate what they are afraid of, they hate those who don't think just like them on every issue, they hate without bothering to understand the situation first. And that is the last thing Jesus wants to be known for.

"Whoever does not love does not know God because God is love." 1 John 4:8

"Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold, but he who stands firm to the end will be saved." Matthew 24:12-13

Time Out

Time out is the most commonly practiced form of disciplining young children. Our doctor recommends starting it at 18 months; I've read that is the youngest you should start it, and some sources say don't even bother until they are 2 or 3 because they won't be able to logically connect the misbehavior with the time out until then.

We started time out with Lexi at 16 months. Not because she is a bad child (she's not), but because she was fond of screaming at the top of her lungs for no apparent reason at least 20 times a day. When ignoring her didn't work, and giving into her wasn't an option, we resorted to time out.

Six weeks later we no longer have the random screaming. Score one for time outs.

Disciplining Lexi is quite entertaining. I never know how much she understands or what she's retaining from these time outs. I often hear her passing the 1 minute punishment babbling to herself or "counting" the stairs. When the minute is up, I go to her, get down on her level, make her look me in the eye, and calmly explain why she was in time out in about two sentences. She looks at me the whole time, but I can tell she is thinking about what toy she's going to play with when I let her go. One time I told her not to do such-and-such again. She looked at me with big blue eyes and serious face and pointed to her palm, which is the sign for again. Another time I told her not to do such-and-such anymore. With the same stern face she did the sign for more. I guess I can be encouraged that she is listening, even if she isn't processing the main idea of our talks.

For the most part, I think time out has to be done 257 times per infraction before she will "get it" at this age. It took six weeks to figure out screaming = punishment... We've been working on not touching the dishwasher or TV for...at least 3 weeks. It is slow going at this age because toddlers have short little memories and they are incredibly impulsive (self-control has to be learned). But I know consistency is key. And at least she makes me smile through it.

Words

Lexi is adding to her vocabulary at a record pace these days. I've read that when you are 18 months old (which Lexi will be on the 30th) you are acquiring the ability to understand one new word every 90 minutes, or some crazy fast rate like that. And 18 months is the age your pace piques at. Never again will Lexi acquire language with such ease.

I'd say her list of words/sounds include: up, uh-oh, help, apple, elbow, Elmo, nana (for banana), pa (for Grandpa), mama, dada, poop, moo, a form of meow, a form of moon, deedee (for baby, which counts as a word because she consistently calls babies deedees), a form of Kyle, a form of door, wall, ball, bowl, ham, shh, a form of shoe, a form of roll, a form of toe, eye, and knee.

What's more impressive is how many words and concepts she understands. She has managed to learn complex concepts like breathe and non-literal commands like walk on your hands - i.e. on all fours.





That is all.

3.5 hrs

On Wednesday I took Lexi to the eye doctor. You may remember we were concerned a couple months ago that sometimes one of her eyes will focus on an object while the other eye turns outward slightly. We went to a super genius specialist, Dr. Meyer, who looked at the physical structures of her eyes and said they looked great. Then we were referred to a pediatric ophthalmologist, Dr. Flynn, who tested her vision, and said there were no signs of near or far sightedness - i.e. - no need for glasses. Both doctors wanted to check her again 2 months later, which is now, just to make sure she hasn't gone from great to worse. I declined the recheck with Dr. Flynn because I haven't noticed anything getting worse. (By the way, her symptoms haven't gotten better either.) I was going to cancel our recheck with the super genius doctor too, but the nurse guilted me into keeping the appointment by saying the super genius can see things parents can't.

So Wednesday we showed up at Dr. Meyer's office for our 10:15 AM appointment. We signed in and I told the desk person that Dr. Meyer had told us to just come right back when we got there, the recheck would only take a couple of minutes. The receptionist acted like that was reasonable and put a star by our name.

We sat down in a cushy waiting room with about 20 other people. Note: when a waiting room has leather recliners, an HD flat screen TV, and several patients sound asleep in their recliners, assume you will be waiting awhile. Lexi entertained the older patients with her cuteness, ate a banana, watched the Price Is Right wheel spin, and played with another baby. About 45 minutes later, we were called back.

We answered some preliminary questions with a nurse, and then we were ushered to waiting room #2. Note: when a doctor's office has multiple waiting rooms, all of which have unhappy looking people in them, assume you will be waiting awhile. The second waiting room had about 5 people in it who were waiting for their dilating drops to kick in, so the room was darkened. Lexi didn't mind. She explored every chair, every magazine, and some more snacks in her bag. We took a potty break and invented some new toys with a Styrofoam cup, a sugar packet, and a plastic coffee stirrer. About 45 minutes later, a nurse took us to the room where we would be seen by the doctor.

As we entered the exam room, the nurse said, "It will still be awhile, but I thought you'd be more comfortable in here." Note: when a nurse says it will still be awhile, assume you will be waiting FOREVER. Lexi explored the bed, the various instruments, all the cabinets, and then decided she wanted to go on a walk around the building. I consented and we began to wander, entertaining the waiting patients that lined the hallways. By about noon I was contemplating the fact that neither Lexi nor I had anything to eat for lunch. She had been snacking on Goldfish and Teddy Grahams all morning, but I foresaw her wanting an actual meal any minute. I called Elian, who works just around the corner, and asked him to bring us Arby's. By 12:30 we were eating our lunch. Elian asked the nurse if Dr. Meyer was even in the office yet. I was puzzled by this question. I was more puzzled by her answer, "No, he should be in within the next half hour."

Internally, I went into a rage. I know Dr. Meyer is a super genius, he invented Lasik surgery, afterall, but this man had at least 50 patients waiting on him to come to work. I am not exaggerating. At least 50 people, with their eyes dilated, sitting in dark hallways and waiting rooms, twiddling their thumbs, and probably 20 more people sitting in the initial waiting room, and this man isn't even at work yet?! What's more, I later found out this is his normal daily schedule. The man that schedules appointments said Dr. Meyer usually arrives between 11:30 AM and 1:30 PM, and he'll stay until he sees the last patient, which has been as late as 9:30 PM. Make no mistake, the scheduler was not happy about his boss' disrespect for everyone else's time. And neither was I.

He finally got to work at 1:30 PM, and we were out the door by 2 PM. For a 10:15 AM appointment. Feel my anger?

The positives include Lexi's eyes have not gotten any worse, and she is being monitored by quite possibly the best eye doctor on the planet. However, he wants to recheck her in 6 months.

I am already dreading the wait.

Rest

This morning I woke up before Lexi, something that hasn't happened since...before Lexi. I had a few minutes to myself before I heard my sweet girl let out a scream and start calling "Mama! Mama!" in a panicked voice. I darted into her room, scooped her up and held her close. I think she had had a bad dream. She held onto me for dear life and rested her head on my shoulder. I held her tight to let her know it was ok. She wasn't budging, so I sat down in the rocking chair in her room and just held her. The minutes passed, her frantic breathing slowed, and her death grip on my neck loosened. I thought she may have gone back to sleep until she started gently teething on my shoulder and patting the back of my neck with her tiny hand. She just wanted to be held and to enjoy the security of Mama. For 20 minutes she never moved; resting so calmly in my embrace. We haven't had that long of a cuddle since she was a much less active baby, many months ago.

As I held her, I prayed over her and began to think. To say that the Lord has taught me much about the Father heart of God via Lexi is an understatement. This morning He illustrated what He means when He tells us to rest in Him.

In Matthew 11, Jesus says, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." In Psalm 116, the writer says, "Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the Lord has been good to you."

I am a geek, so I looked up the Greek definitions for "rest" in the Matthew verses. The first "rest" is defined as: to cause or permit one to cease from any movement or labour in order to recover and collect his strength; to give rest, refresh, to give one's self rest, take rest; to keep quiet, of calm and patient expectation. The second "rest" is: intermission, cessation of any motion, business or labour; rest, recreation.

Lexi was resting in these ways - no movement, quiet, calm, to recover from her dream, and to collect strength from Mama.

This begs the question; do I ever rest to this degree in my Father's arms? Try it - you feel yourself being filled up with His love and the stress of life melts away.

Burning Hairband

When Elian and I got married, we got a toaster oven. He already had a toaster, but I convinced him we needed a toaster oven. That was nearly 4 years ago. I use our toaster oven for all my toasting needs. Elian only uses the toaster oven for his small oven needs; he still uses the toaster for his toasting needs.

I don't know why, you'll have to ask him.

Anyway, Elian only feels the need to toast about once a year. The other 364 days of the year the toaster just sits on our counter collecting dust and taking up space.

Tonight Elian decided to engage in his annual toasting. He put his bread in, smelled something funny, let the bread continue to cook, and waited for the bread to pop up as toast. I came downstairs and immediately smelled something was wrong. I began to investigate and noticed my husband had made toast in the toaster.

Kelly: "Something smells weird."
Elian: "I know. I used the toaster. There must be something in there burning."
Kelly: "It doesn't smell like food. It smells like rubber."

My husband pushed the toast button down again. Apparently he thought this would help us decipher what was behind the unpleasant odor. I peered in the toaster and saw a rubber band. Upon further inspection I concluded it was one of my hair bands. I verbalized my find, and told Elian to stop the toasting.

I have no idea how my hair band got in the toaster (or when, for that matter), but I blame Lexi. Not because she is tall enough to reach the toaster (she's not), but because she was already in bed and couldn't defend herself.

Dang kids.