I Don't Really Do This Sort of Thing

If there’s one thing I absolutely CANNOT stand to discuss it’s that thing you do in the bathroom that requires more than one wipe. But I’m going to challenge myself to talk about it. (Oh GOD. What if I’m the only one that requires more than one wipe and I just totally embarrassed myself?) (Just got off the phone with Matt to confirm he also uses more than one wipe. In fact, he said that if you don’t then you’re DIRTY. So there.)

My dog Taylor and I have had a really rough week. Here’s the thing: I’m not an animal person. And I know that’s not a good thing to admit. I love my dog, but I don’t really feel affection toward other animals. It’s just not who I am. It’s the same as all those parents who say they’re not kid people, but they mostly like their own kids. I get it. But this week, Taylor and I had a major meltdown, and I really wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to look her in the face again.

She ate her own poop.

Last Thursday, Matt and I were sitting on the back porch, drinking wine, and playing cards. Taylor was outside with us. Everything was normal; it could have been any other night of the week, and we would have been doing the exact same thing.

“I think Skip-Bo is a good name for a kid.”

“It’s your turn, Nic.”

“Think about it… go to your room, Skip-Bo!”

“What’s Taylor eating?”

“Probably an apple.”

Matt got up to check on her while I sipped my wine.

“It’s poop! She was eating her poop!”

“SHIT.”

After reprimanding her, we continued our game. But we couldn’t concentrate; I mean, she kept breathing and coming near us like everything was cool. AND IT SO WAS NOT. I kept wondering where we went wrong. The past few days I had been moody (some might call it PMS), and I know I took it out on Taylor. Was this her attempt to get back at me? You know, 9 times out of 10 Matt is the one who gets the brunt of my moodiness, and he’s never eaten his own poop, TAYLOR. That would be grounds for separate beds. FOREVER.

We quickly wrapped up the game and I went inside to consult with Google while Matt gave Taylor a bath and brushed her teeth. Turns out most dogs eat their poop at some point or another, and it’s usually not a big deal unless it becomes habitual, which it hasn’t.

But this doesn’t mean I still wasn’t thoroughly disgusted by her. I gave her the cold shoulder for two solid days. As I was putting away the recycling one evening, Taylor came and sat by me at a distance. She looked sad, lonely, and apologetic. And then I felt terrible. I hugged her, apologized, and gave her a treat. Because, after all, everyone makes mistakes. Some just make you want to vomit – A LOT.

Friday Candy

My girl Amber is a poet. It's one reason why we're such close friends -- we both just love words. She was an English major also, and don't you know that all English majors have a bizarre, unexplainable bond to each other? It's the words, man. They build a chain connecting us all.

Ask any artist to call herself an artist, and she immediately tries to change the subject. But that's what friends are for; while Amber is trying to change the subject right now, I'm letting everyone know that she's an incredibly gifted poet. And you can check out one of her poems HERE.

A Stone to Remember

As a high school teacher, I dealt with a lot of teenagers who felt they were better than most and thus deserved more. I heard things like, "I like to park in two spots so cars are further away from my Audi," and "I showed up to class every day... why didn't I get an A?" All teachers have moments when they wouldn't mind slapping a kid around a bit because, really, who do they think they are?

When I started to notice that attitude in my students, I started to notice it elsewhere. Adults deal with it, too. (What?! SHOCKING.) We deserve more money, we deserve a bigger house, we deserve to have a day off, we deserve recognition. And while some of that might be true, is it right for us to demand it?

This has been a summer of lessons in entitlement for me. I started the summer by consistently saying, "This should happen to me because I deserve it." And, dammit, I meant it. But after a few weeks of carrying around that attitude, I began to really annoy myself. Because how does that attitude fit in with my faith? The gospel I read doesn't have Jesus telling others he deserves to have his feet washed because he's awesome. Jesus actually washes others feet because he's humble.

There is no room for compassion or gratefulness with an attitude of entitlement. Every time I find myself beginning to think I deserve something, which, let's face it - is often, I have to remind myself that there is no goodness that comes from such an attitude. And I think we'd all be better off with a bit more compassion and gratefulness.

A Twenty Dollar Misunderstanding

Matt's out of town right now, and I'm leaving town tomorrow, but he's coming back in a few days, so I did what any good wife would do: stocked up on frozen foods. While I was driving to the store, Matt called. I told him what I was doing, and he asked if I'd pick up some wine for him, just one or two. I thought this was a bit odd because Matt is much more likely to have a beer or a gin and tonic rather than a glass of wine while he's home alone. In fact, the image of Matt sitting at home alone watching tv with a bottle of wine is really making me grin right now.

I pulled into Trader Joe's, picked out two bottles of wine, grabbed some burritos and pizza, and went on with my day. When Matt called later, I mentioned that I got him his wine.

"Why did you buy me wine?"

"Well, you asked for it. Really, Matt, start remembering things!"

"No... I asked for limes, one or two."

"Oh. ... ... well, limes sure would have been cheaper for me to buy."

See? I knew he'd rather have a gin and tonic.

On Sucky Things and Awesome People

Before we left for Arkansas, I had hoped to have an interview scheduled with a school to get rehired for this fall. Naturally, they scheduled the interviews while I was away. And of course I found this out during our layover the day we left Portland. (This is the point in which I give a bewildered look up to God and foolishly question his timing.) My options were to fly home five days early or have a phone interview. If I flew home early, I would miss visiting the Haines completely. If I had a phone interview, I felt my chances of getting the job would drop significantly.

I took the phone interview. I know that I want to always choose to invest in my relationships over investing in my career, status, and money (a lesson learned from my dad and Jesus). And wouldn’t this be the perfect time to say AND LOOK! I GOT THE JOB AFTER ALL! Only I didn’t.

But I can say that I don’t regret that phone interview at all. Sure, I might have gotten the job had I flown back earlier, but I’ll never know. The only thing I’d know is that I missed my sweet, sweet time with Amber and Seth and their three fantastically adorable boys. They are my soul family. When I met Seth eight years ago, he said I’d love his new wife. AND OH MY. If there were a way to bottle Amber up and keep her with me always, I would have done it a loooooooong time ago. She is one of the very best people in my life. And together, Amber and Seth are some of the greatest Jesus-loving people I’ve ever known. It is a huge treat to spend a week with them.

The day I found out I didn’t get the job could have been awful. I imagine if I were in Portland at the time, I would have simply stayed in bed eating chocolate covered pretzels until Matt got off work, in which I'd pretend I'd been productive, only the crumbs and chocolate stains would have given me away. It’s pretty impossible to stay sad with Isaac, Jude, and Ian, though. Those boys put some Jesus straight into my soul with their simple words, silly giggles, and cuddly hugs. Even the littlest people can have a big impact.

Overall, I had the best time with the Haines crew. We laughed a lot, we were honest and ourselves, we ate and drank well, we encouraged and prayed, and we lived fully. I think that’s the way Jesus wants it.

Why the Blob

So the blob was for our children's ministry at church. The early childhood kids are learning about creation this summer, and the blob is the "soup of nothingness," as The Message calls it. I actually find it pretty creepy to imagine this endless abyss that was the beginning, but the kids ate it up. They just loved the blob. As we taught them the story inside the blob, they just sat in awe. And that's why it's cool to watch a little kid learn about God -- they don't get wrapped up in the questioning and doubts and fears. They just take it as it is. It's refreshing to be around.

Matt and I are leaving this afternoon for Arkansas. Now that I've been away from N-dub for nearly three years, going back has become more nostalgic. I'm over my GETMEOUTOFHERENOW phase, and now it's just really fun and special for Matt and I to go back together. The first four years of our relationship took place in Arkansas. We're excited to see family again and catch up with old friends. And I'm getting the shakes just thinking about eating Chick-fil-a. Number one combo with a coke, please.

And next week, Matt is likely going somewhere for work so I'm staying with my favorite family for a few days. Everyone should be very jealous.

The Making of Something Awesome

Once upon a time, Matt and I sat bored on a weeknight. Sister had left town, the weather was sunny, and we needed something meaningful to do. So we made a BLOB. Naturally. So here's how it works:

First, you'll need at least 2 black plastic sheets, found in the drop cloth section at Home Depot. We went with 3.5 mil, and I believe it was 10x20. I'm not very good with dimensions; Matt later found this out as he struggled to explain just how big the BLOB would be when combined with two sheets and then folded in half -- I still don't get it. Frankly, it gives me the same kind of headache I get when I think of the word eternity. ANYHOODLE. You'll also need duct tape, trash bags, and a box fan.

Once you've got your supplies, open up the two black sheets side by side, long wise. Tape the two together! Follow Matt's lead:

Don't be alarmed; Matt is in fact wearing shorts.

So once you've taped the two sheets together, fold it in half -- like a hot dog. Now you're going to tape all around the edges. Seal it up like a ... uh... pita pocket? HOT POCKET!

Make sure the edges are lined up together.

And then tape away on the remaining three sides. Look at that teamwork!

So now the BLOB should be like a super sturdy slip 'n slide. You'll be tempted to turn on your sprinklers, and if it's hot enough, go for it. It was a cool 65 degrees for us, so no slip 'n slide. Sadly.

Time for the fan! If you have a large enough trash bag (50 gallon... do they make those?), it should slip right over the box fan. If you're like us, you'll need to lay down three 30 gallon trash bags and tape them together. Then, wrap it around the fan like a tube and tape away. I was too excited at this point to remember pictures. Use your imagination or just give up and pretend you were trying to make a slip 'n slide all along.

Using a box cutter (I didn't tell you to get one of those; quick, grab a knife! ), cut a small opening on one of the short sides of the BLOB. Slide the trash bag tube in about 2 inches and tape it to the BLOB.

If everything's good and taped, turn the fan on and watch it blow up. Run to the opposite end of the fan and with the box cutter make a slit about 3 feet long as an entry way. Voila!


Careful, though. The BLOB can attack.