THE SEXTON CREW

Reality is a Two-faced (CENSORED)!

2012-01-12T20:36:00.000-05:00

This morning, in the middle of home schooling these five kiddos, Tim hugged me and said, "Last night I was with a beautiful woman. She was wearing a silky, shimmery blue night gown and had on sexy makeup. You don't look anything like her. I think I may have accidentally cheated on you."

Ain't that the way life goes? Sometimes you get to be the hot mama with deep blue eye shadow and maroon-stained lips. But then the clock strikes midnight and you're just the pony-tailed girl in a sweatsuit and cotton undies. sigh. As I pondered this double-sided existence, I was reminded of the musical "Into the Woods". In our high school performance of it, Tim was "The Baker" and I was "Rapunzel" his estranged sister. Estranged meaning locked in a doorless tower. The play is an amazing intertwining of several classic fairy tales and is quite entertaining, especially if you see the one with the anatomically correct Big Bad Wolf costume. 'nuff said.

Anyway, there is a scene in the play in which the Baker's wife and Prince Charming rendezvous in the woods, after which his charm seems to run short and she's left pondering the void between a passionate love affair (an "And") and a mundane life in the bakery (the "Or").

"Why not both instead, there's the answer if you're clever;
Have a child for warmth, and a baker for bread, and a prince for...whatever!"

In the end, she realizes that the tension between the two realities is a necessary part of relationship. Or at least that's my interpretation of what she realizes. She also gets stomped on by a giant like the no-good-cheater she is but that's beside the point.

"Just remembering you've had an "and" when you're back to "or",
Makes the "or" mean more than it did before."

So, reality IS a two-faced (CENSORED)! No sense fighting it. See it for what it is and now... go have an "AND" with your hubby! Oh, and keep away from beanstalks. It's just best for everybody that way.

Halloween in Review

2011-11-01T12:46:00.000-04:00

Every year I acknowledge that there are many controversial opinions out there regarding Halloween. Every year I remind everyone that I am not offering judgement on your position nor accepting comments that judge ours. And this year is no different. Take it or leave it, here's how the 31st of October passed for the Sexton Crew:

I love the dressing up part. I usually love participating in the dressing up but this year it just didn't work out. I mostly love the challenge of outfitting my kiddos WITHOUT spending tons of money on pre-fab costuming. After a look around the house and a quick trip to the thrift store, we were rolling.

I found this strange item in the $1.29 bin at GoodWill. I had no idea what we would do with it but there were some obvious thoughts and soon enough...

one ginormous snake was crafted and became the centerpiece...

for Isaiah's "jungle explorer" costume.

Nathan loves and already has all things army so that's easy enough.

Mamoune got this snow queen dress last Christmas (75% off post-Halloween sale) so we simply added the Dollar store Christmas ornament earrings and then rubber banded the snowflake ornament to a gold headband for the crown. She was all glitz and glitter which made her quite happy! And that left the little people.

Bella Bo Peep required a $4.00 Princess costume from GW, one of Mamoune's old flower girl dresses worn underneath for "poof effect" and an infant hat stitched in half with ribbon to tie it on. We decided a four year old with a shepherd's staff could be dangerous for all involved but "lamby" made for a great prop. And lastly, all was right in the world because...

Sheriff Justus was on patrol. Take one cow patterned pillow that two pre-schoolers have pulled all the stuffing out of and give it three snips and some stitching and you've got a perfect "Sheriff Woody" vest. His sister's bandanna, a dollar store hat, and aluminum star and he was ready to round up some sugar-hyped outlaws.

I spent a total of $16.00 on five costumes. Not bad. So, costumes -success! Candy? Fail. Major fail. The rain was the first glitch. It seemed a complete waste to get all these guys dressed up and then layer them with rain coats and umbrellas. So, we joined some friends at the mall knowing it would be packed but at least it would be dry. Dry, crowded, and candy-less. Yep. It was a total disappointment. We walked around and sadly observed the "sorry, we ran out of candy" signs taped to countless store windows. By 7:30, our tally looked a bit like this:

3 hours making costumes

1 hour dressing kids in costumes

45 minutes driving to, unloading, parking, and getting into the mall

+ 1 hour walking around the mall

2 pieces of candy per child

1 spider ring

5 "this is stupid"

3 "when are we leaving?"

2 "what the heck do we do now?" parents

In some small way, we (Tim and Amie) were relieved. Every year they get bags of candy and they obsess to the point of conflict and we end up fighting and having to ration the candy before eventually just trashing it sometime around January 15th. No candy -no conflict. But the tiny part of us that understands our kid's excitement over all things chocolate and sugary felt bad for them. So... we left the mall, empty target bags in tow, and made a slight detour through the KrispyKreme drive-thru then headed home to watch "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" and stuff ourselves on glazed donuts.

With no masses of candy to idolize and therefore hopefully only one sugar-hype/crash related day of meltdowns and attitudes, I'm thinking we may have found our new Halloween tradition!

Faithfulness

2011-09-03T10:49:00.000-04:00

The following is a spoken word that I wrote about a year ago. At that time, Justus was in the hospital hooked up to all kinds of crazy contraptions and I was surviving on fumes of adrenaline and anxiety. I haven't posted it before this time because I was never sure I could handle the comments it may evoke. It is as honest, unfluffy, and straightforward as I've ever been. I'm still not sure I'm ready for how some of you may respond. But I have a friend who has found herself in the same dark place and I am posting it for her and for anyone else who has ever questioned God and are willing to admit it.

Doubt
Amie Sexton November 2010

If I stand here bare-boned in naked truth
I find that I'm asking where's the proof?
The apparent evidence lacking
has me back-tracking
to a place where doubt and skepticism take root.

What are the contradictions;
the implications?
Is it that or
is it simply a matter
of time, will, sovereignty
and other dimensions my eyes can’t see?

If I ask You to heal now and You don't
or You won't
are You less faithful for your hesitation?
Or do I judge You more faithful having endured the situation?
Dare I judge you at all?
Judge not lest judgement fall.

But what of this faith that moves mountains
or drives fountains up from rolling seas,
letting thousands cross on sandy ground
while I drown in my own sea of sand sinking quick?
Do tests of faith strengthen hope
or does hope deferred make the heart sick?

When Jesus prayed in dismay, "Let this cup pass from me"
was His obedience too great
or was His faith just too weak?
If I ask will I receive?
How can I believe, if I must submit
all the while admit that He answers as He pleases?
Or has He deceived us?

"Heresy!" cries the Pharisee.
You whose eyebrows are raised in disgrace
scowling face.
"How could she? Why would she
say such a thing?
As though God is obligated to explain."

But these questions in my mind
long to be satisfied
and even this temptation to deny
doesn't surprise or compromise
the love He bestows since
He already knows the anxiety that lies inside of me
as I strive to walk the Gospel in the midst of this reality:

That pain remains the same
and the rain is unchanged
falling on the just and the unjust
but must I be crazy
to think that maybe
I could access special favor
having put my trust in this Savior?

If a father knows how to give good gifts to his own
and when his child asks for bread will not give him a stone
How much more does our Father in heaven,
the Father of lights, know how to give us...

Wait.
How does God define "good"?

Good is good, right?
A word with a definition,
a meaning that creates expectation,
the anticipation of something...well...good.

But is a child dying,
parents crying, trying to understand
what's coming from His hand good?

A million people in an earthquake
that shakes and breaks and devastates
their lives already in a precarious state;
is that good?

Cars crash, thieves dash
down dark alleyways
to easy escapes;
Innocent falling prey
to scams and schemes
Wall Street exploiting dreams
with its greed;
A child's soul bleeds under the invasion
of a pedophiles' touch.
It's all too much.
And sooner or later, we all will die
So, why shouldn't I cry
"GOD, IS THIS GOOD?!"

I am still in the process of answering some of my own questions and maybe someday I'll share that post with you as well. But let's face it --most of them will remain unresolved because only God and the understanding that will come in His presence someday can offer a complete answer. As I shared with my precious, struggling friend: my faith may be a fragile, shaken thing at times but even when I question, doubt, curse, wander...He has never cast me away. And that may be the greatest evidence of His faithfulness after all.

Two of a Kind

2011-07-15T18:10:00.000-04:00

Eleven days ago, my parents pulled away from our house with camper trailing and THREE grand kids in tow. We were thankful for a chance to be a small family. The medium people have had a fun-filled, sugar-filled, entertainment-filled, doting grandparents-filled vacation from the 'hood. Tomorrow they return.

One would think that down-sizing from five children to two would be a breath of fresh air and a time of rest and relaxation. One would be wrong. We have learned these past two weeks that parenting two pre-schoolers is every bit as hard as parenting five kids all together. I should say RE-learned. We did it once before when the boys were 4 and 2 but WE were oh, so much younger then.

There have been moments we lament not having more one-on-one time with each of our kids. One-on-one time is hugely overrated. This leveling of kid to parent ratios has meant that the 75,000 touches, tugs, pulls, jumps, and pinches normally spread between six other people have been fielded by only two. The 642,984 requests for candy, apples, chocolate, water, orange juice, bicycles, toys, books, tv, attention to silliness, and general whining have also been divided fairly equally between the two of us. We are worn slap out.

Justus is climbing on my back right this minute making gun noises in my ear. I am his mom and I love him dearly. He is the most precious little man on the planet and his smile lights up my heart. Tomorrow night, I will pawn him off on his big brother and breathe a sigh of relief.

I have missed our three oldest but I honestly don't think the extent of how much I've missed them will sink in until I see them being shadowed relentlessly by their young, needy, active siblings. I will think to myself that was me last week and I will be thankful for a big family!

;-)

Home School Highlights

2011-03-18T12:31:00.002-04:00

I feel certain there is a manual that makes it irrefutably clear that mockery does horrible things to children and that parents who engage in such activity should prepare to pay mega bucks for therapy. Fortunately, there are blogs like this that our children could care less about and aren't likely to read until they are in their twenties at which point the damage is done so...

Mamoune had a spelling test the other day. The word was "were." She spelled it w-h-e-r-e. We corrected the mistake and discussed the difference between the two words in meaning and pronunciation. Rocket science? Nope. Just spelling. Her next step was to write a sentence using this word. She wrote:

Were are you going?

--which I read and promptly responded with: "Were are you from, girl? Suthern Haiti?" (deposit $25 into the therapy account now)

Later I shared this incident with Tim. He had a I Can Top That story for me.

Isaiah's spelling word that same day had been wants: w-a-n-t-s just to be clear. His sentence for this word?

Wants upon a time.

:-)

Lacking

2011-02-23T10:59:00.006-05:00

I've read the story of the "rich young ruler" (Matthew 19, Mark 10, Luke 18) many times and heard just as many sermons, devotions, or bible studies on this story. But at 5:30 this morning when a certain 2 year old's need for water could not possibly wait for sunrise -this is where my brain went and my pondering of it.

Here's a quick summary for any who are unfamiliar with this passage. Jesus is walking through town doing His thing when this rich dude approaches and says, "Hey you seem like a great guy. How can I get in on this?" Jesus takes a quick second to reference His own deity in a wonderfully sarcastic way that must have been accompanied by a mischievous grin before taking the question adding a healthy dose of reality, giving it a good shake and then dumping it back on the guys head. "You know the law." In other words...based on all your knowledge of Scripture shouldn't you already be "in on this"? The guy still doesn't get it so Jesus gets to the point, "You are lacking one thing. Sell your stuff, all of it, and give the money to the poor then follow me."

He doesn't head to the market. He doesn't run to the local soup kitchen. He doesn't follow Jesus. He leaves. Sad but still rich.

At this point in the sermon most pastors will take great care to point out that obviously Jesus didn't really mean for the man to sell all his possessions and we can quickly and confidently dismiss any such racical application. And while I take great issue with this statement I will not -because it is not necessary for this particular post- even harp on it. Though I could. Seriously. Like a fat-bellied-bare-bottomed-flying-cherub kind of harping. But I won't.

So, the typical focus of teaching is on this rich guy's idolatry problem. He loved his stuff too much. He wanted his stuff too much. He idolized his stuff. At which point, we would be encouraged to consider the idols in our hearts and surrender them accordingly. Not a bad plan. Not bad teaching.

Problem is Jesus never addressed it this way. "One thing you still lack..." Jesus did not accuse the rich guy of loving his stuff too much. He accused him of loving others too little. This man essentially claimed to have kept all the commandments from his youth but he lacked the willingness to help the poor. He lacked the neighbor love and compassion that Jesus lived daily -healing the broken and dying, touching the sick and diseased, and restoring community to the outcast. He wasn't merely too focused on loving his possessions, he was not focused enough on loving others.

"If I can speak with the tongues of men and angels but have not love I am a resounding gong and clanging cymbal." (1 Cor 13:1) "There is still one thing you lack..."

Okay, okay but whether he was lacking love for His neighbor or idolizing himself --isn't it basically the same thing?

Well, yes and no. If I look at my neighbors through the filter of what they appear to idolize I am tempted to pat myself on the back and strut around in a self-righteous garb. But twisting it the way Jesus did finds me on much more common ground with them. For example, I could say that my friend who's shack up with her boyfriend and knows she needs to change it but doesn't loves and depends on the guy too much. I don't have that idol. We are different. I'm not like her.

But what if I see that my friend hasn't changed the situation because she lacks trust in God to handle the fallout; because she's afraid and lacks courage? The stone I held poised for attack suddenly crumbles to a grain of sand. I know what it means to lack trust. To lack courage. To be afraid despite God's best promises. We are same. I'm a lot like her.

See the difference?

So, thanks to an early wake-up call and a fresh look at a familiar story, I know it will still be important and necessary to clear out some idols but it will be equally important to search myself for those things that are lacking.

Shout Out to Wake Forest WalMart

2011-01-07T17:15:00.006-05:00

I know, I know...

I've offered many less than rave reviews on this giant of all stuff marts. And yes, I typically avoid the chaos within its walls at all costs. But for today I am singing a different tune. Here's why.

Mamoune and I set out this afternoon to run a few errands. Bank -check. Pick up M's new glasses -check. Walmart -and that's where it all went south. To say that Mamoune has vision issues is an understatement. She has a seriously strong prescription and having been without glasses for an absurd amount of time ('nother story, 'nother time) we were warned that she may feel a little woozy for a day or two while her eyes adjusted.

After a few minutes of shopping, she mentioned that she felt a little dizzy. Not a plea for help. Not really even a complaint. Just a mention. No biggie. Another ten minutes in and she stops and drops her head with her hands resting on her knees. "I don't feel so good." she says. I go through the range of possibilities...are you still dizzy, do you need to throw up, need to poop, etc. We decide to head to check-out and to get her positioned on a nice bench near the ladies room.

I point her toward the desired location and she immediately takes two steps the wrong direction. I pulled her back and getting a good look at her face, I knew this wasn't going to end well. She was weaving side to side and not really locking eyes with me so I pulled her closer.

Now, as I confessed in a previous L150 post, I haven't been great at recognizing God in the moment but there was no missing Him this time. As I struggled to balance Mamoune in her stupor, one of the WalMart managers (I presume based on her gear) happened to be standing right beside us. She asked if I needed help or if I thought we should call 911. I was waffling and trying to process the situation when I felt Mamoune's legs give way. She was out like a light. At that very moment, I heard a familiar voice say "Everything okay?" There stood Alphonso James. One very large, very strong, WalMart employee Alphonso James. "She's passed out Dwight (his nickname) I can't hold her."

He scooped her up and at that moment I realized how precious it is to have someone who knows your child by name coming to your rescue. We made our way toward a seating area and he was talking to her all the way. "Mamoune, you with me? Wake up, girl." We got her to a chair and soon got her back into the land of the conscious. The manager had already called for EMS and they arrived shortly thereafter. A little bit of time, a finger prick to check blood sugar, and several vitals checks later and we determined that a light lunch, dizzy glasses, and some possible anemia had created the perfect storm. Once we knew there would be no need for an ambulance ride to the ER --the paramedics stood watch while the managers opened a register for me and checked me out in no time flat. This is also when I realized that a good friend we hadn't seen in a while was standing nearby and had been praying for us while waiting for a chance to check on us verbally. Meanwhile, Alphonso retrieved our van from the parking lot and drove it to the front door.

And so, laying price wars, consumerism, and the annoyance of big box warehouse marts aside; when it counted the most the Walmart crew was on their toes. Maybe it was emergency training and protocol or maybe it was just good ol' fashioned customer service. Either way

-- THANK YOU WAKE FOREST WALMART--

and paramedics and firefighters and everyone who made haste and cleared the path for one frantic mama! And thank you God for putting friends (old and new) right where we needed them to be.

btw, Mamoune is feeling much better after a snack and some rest. She was pretty shaken up but I'm thinking the 11 year old embarrassment factor will be the longest part of her recovery. =)

Abundant Life

2010-12-24T12:13:00.010-05:00

"I have come that they may have life and that they may have it more abundantly." John 10:10

a·bun·dant
–adjective
1. present in great quantity; more than adequate; oversufficient: an abundant supply of water.
2. well supplied; abounding: a river abundant in salmon.
3. richly supplied: an abundant land.

Life more abundantly. Abundant life. I've been pondering this phrase for quite some time now. I don't think I want, really want, an abundant life. No. I don't think many of us want an abundant life and if I had to choose a substitute I would go with adequate. I want an adequate life. Adequate as in enough. I want enough money. I want enough time. Enough patience. Enough rest. Enough testing to still warrant my own sense of piety but with it enough faith to come out unshaken, unscarred.

But Jesus didn't offer an adequate life. In fact, the only thing adequate about Christ was his death and payment for my sin. It was enough. But everything else in the realm of following Him is wrapped up by this notion of abundance. And 2010 as much as...no, way more than...any other year shed a sometimes unflattering light on this abundant life.

This is not a life that follows a straight, manicured, well-illuminated path. It's more like the yellow brick road full of dark forests, deceptive poppy fields, and some downright terrifying flying monkeys--but made easier to traverse by the company of good friends.

Our joys this year have been abundant. Celebrating milestones like weddings and graduations. At times we have laughed so hard our sides hurt and are hearts have been full to overflowing. Abundant smiles.

Our sorrows this year have been abundant. Grieving the loss of thousands, hundreds of thousands, in a country so dear to us barely a year ago. Fearing for and grieving with our dearest friends and loved ones of those lost. Weeping over the loss of one precious, tiny life just a few short weeks ago. At times we have cried so hard our bodies ached and our hearts felt broken beyond repair. Abundant tears.

And to be perfectly honest, we've had more than enough, an abundance, of doubts and questioning. Times that our trust was so weak and our faith so shallow our own skepticism threatened to swallow us up. Abundant confusion.

Many of you have been good company. You've walked with us and helped us fight off those proverbial "lions, tigers, and bears" of uncertainty, fear, and spiritual attack. You've prayed for us, encouraged us, supported us. Abundant gratitude.

Looking back on the year, I see that all of this --ALL OF IT--is part of the abundant life that Christ gives; the storms and swells as much as the still moments. Even David's "quiet waters" were marked by "darkest valleys."

But I have this regret. That far too often I lost sight of the most important thing. The abundance of God's presence.

I don't want another year like 2010. Many of you may share this sentiment. I'd rather that no one face overwhelming natural disasters, that no one die a senseless and tragic death, that no one suffer injustice or abuse... the idealistic wish list could go on for days. And so mostly, I don't want another year of overlooking His abundant presence. His sufficient grace. His boundless mercy.

Whether 2011 is a frightful raging sea, a playful babbling brook, or deep still waters I want to (and may need occasional reminders to) remember, live in, and cling to the knowledge that God's love, my Savior's love, His very Spirit in me is adequate...sufficient...boundless....ABUNDANT!

Happy New Year!

Deep in the Heart of Texas

2010-12-03T14:52:00.002-05:00

If you've been following this blog or our ministry blog for any great length of time, then you already know our connection to and affection for Haiti. You are probably also familiar with a some of our favorite people on the planet --Troy and Tara Livesay and their crew.

Saturday morning, we will be boarding a plane headed for Texas to spend a few days with these people who claim to love us but have never managed to hit NC soil to prove it. It's all good though because we need to enjoy being the better people in at least one friendship and Troy and Tara provide ample opportunity. ;-)

As Tara mentioned here, Tim and Troy became instant bff's after finally meeting just last year despite the fact that most men of their age and station in life would go to great extremes to avoid such an effeminate reference. It works for them without being too creepy. Sort of. =)

Since we saw them last summer MUCH (understatement) has happened. Their adopted home country being ravaged by an earthquake and their displacement in the States being top of the list. And while we know that they know that we love them and have been praying for them --this trip is not about them; it's about us. :-) And we will feel better after getting to see, love on, and squeeze them in person.

Aside from all the excitement about our visit, I am also experiencing a level of apprehension over the flight(s) that await me. I don't love to fly. I've stated this fact many times. It has not changed. Tim LOVES to fly. He flew often as a child and enjoys it immensely. He loves planes, knows lots about them and loves the whole shebang. He will be comfortable sipping soda and listening to pod casts while munching down the complimentary trail mix. I will be practicing shallow breathing, clenching my fist, and trying not to look like I'm about to spew while chanting my flying mantra "I will NOT throw up in a paper bag!" He will at some point attempt to chat with me about some random bit and I will smile sweetly while shaking my head "no." No as in do not talk to me, do not touch me, and for heaven's sake do not interrupt the "I will NOT throw up in a paper bag" mantra. Okay, maybe that's all a slight exaggeration but still, I do not love flying.

Additionally, I do not love "advanced imaging technology." I am not looking forward to the new screening process of having my x-ray silhouette examined by some remote security agent. Though I choose to believe that said remote security agent is not looking forward to it either. I've read lots of articles, blogs, etc. about the controversy and I get why people are wary but seriously, is it necessary to assume that all TSA agents are perverted, x-cons and sex offenders who signed onto the job as soon as they heard the words "invasive pat-down"? Did TSA break protocol and seek out new employees by posting a classified ad for people to "feel up airline passengers?" I don't think so. I choose to believe the whole thing is uncomfortable for ALL parties involved and for that reason, I will be polite, compliant, and respectful although...

I am fighting the urge to write on my belly with a metallic marker: "I SEE YOU LOOKIN'!"

Stylin' and Profilin'

2010-11-26T14:40:00.005-05:00

A couple of days ago I enjoyed a nice hairstyling moment --with my middle son. Yes. Isaiah. The gargantuan child brushing my hair ever so carefully and securing it with a clip. Does that read as oddly to you as it feels in real life for me?

It's not that I don't consider cosmetology a worthy profession. I've seen Barber Shop for crying out loud. I know that this is a decent and respectable role for a strong, black man to pursue. And supposing my boy grows up to be a stylist for the stars, that will rock and my love and support for his accomplishments will be sincere...eventually...after some processing time and a small measure of unsuppressed snickering behind his back.

You see, ever since this precious boy was a mere 6 months old but being squeezed into 2T clothing, we have been banking on the notion that he would someday take the world by storm as a renowned athlete, use his prestige for God's glory, give back to his community, and well, maybe just maybe, set his folks up with a sweet little bungalow beach house on a private island in the tropics. =)

Superbowl ring? Sure.
NBA championship? Heck yeah.
2024 Olympics? You betcha!
Cover of Cosmopolitan? uh....gulp.

Maybe he can do both, I muse to myself as he palms my head before brushing the hair back out of my face. Yeah. And that way, when he flashes a "Hi Mom!" poster during the Superbowl and the camera pans my way for all of two seconds, I will be beaming with pride and sporting perfectly sculpted hair! A mom can dream, right?

Is there a counselor in the house?

2010-10-18T08:56:00.003-04:00

Life can be pretty crazy and I suppose we all have coping mechanisms of one sort or another -those little things we do to reboot, regroup, recharge, unwind, etc. For some of us, it's a glass of wine and dark chocolate (thank you Juli Bourden for reinforcing this one) but for three year olds it looks a little different.

I know of kids who have imaginary friends. Bella has never had one of these though she does go through occasional seasons of being her own imaginary friend named "Maddie." And her imagination sometimes confuses us -like when she says to Tim, "Daddy, you be the dad." It's typecasting, we know, but either way those drama days of high school really pay off. Tim totally rocks the "dad" role; very convincing.

But now Bella has taken coping to a new level. She's become a dog. Her name is Titan or Cooper (real names of real dogs) depending on her mood. She crawls on all fours. Kennels herself in an invisible crate which she insists must be locked lest she escape and she loves to do tricks. It got a little weird yesterday when we had company and she came crawling into the living room and said, "Mom, tell me to sit so I can get a treat." She continued to practice her obedience training as well as fetch. Fortunately, the company found it more cute than disturbing.

And it was... until this morning. She came into the bedroom first thing and already in character. Tongue hanging out, on her hands and knees, panting. I told her that I was really hoping to see Bella for a good morning hug and kiss. No change. So, then I suggested that "Titan" could go and find Bella and bring her back for some morning love. She headed out the door in search of ...herself. Tim shook his head. "I can't believe your playing along to convince our daughter not to be a dog." I didn't have much time to ponder it since Bella, er Titan, returned at that moment. Still crawling. "Where's Bella?" I asked. "She didn't want to come" came the reply.

I knew we'd have to pay for counseling at some point. I didn't expect any of them to crack so early. If she doesn't return to her human persona soon we will schedule her psych evaluation and I will need more dark chocolate. In the meantime, she is awfully cute and quite frankly, she's the best dog we've ever had! =)

Lemon Broccoli

2010-09-14T19:44:00.002-04:00

Oh, how quickly it can all go wrong! In the middle of cooking supper (read: cooking, chasing pre-schoolers in and out of the house, yelling at boys for wrestling like maniacs in the living room, monitoring neighbor children who are way too zealous about using the sharp knives to "help" me, and finishing up one young lady's science homework) I had a...well, what my grandma would've called a spell. Yep, I had a spell. I was suddenly hot, sweaty, nauseous with stomach cramps and a pulsing headache. No idea what prompted it (not counting the stress of the above mentioned chaos coupled with stifling heat as we try to save money on a/c).

I went down hard. An hour, a quickly cooled house, and two ibuprofen later, I woke up to my poor hubby trying to manage the hooligans and finish the dinner I had abandoned mid-prep. It was 7:15 pm. We don't usually eat that late. The domino effect. He had roasted the broccoli and cauliflower nicely but expressed concern that he hadn't put enough olive oil on it and it wasn't quite the way I make it. No biggie. He had also made a last minute decision to roast some chicken. So, we were waiting for that when Tim answered a phone call.

I decided to put on a pot of pasta to supplement in case the chicken wasn't ready until midnight. I reached up in the spice pantry for my sea salt and noticed a bright yellow can of "Lemon Scented Dusting Spray" (that's the super creative name for generic Pledge). I retrieved the can from the cabinet and handed it to Tim with what I thought would register as a what the heck is this doing in the spice cabinet? look. Turns out facial expressions do not translate nearly as well when one of you is on the phone and not really paying attention -justifiably so. Also turns out that the what the heck is this doing in the spice cabinet? look strongly resembles the here, maybe this will spice up the broccoli look. yup.

Oddly enough, I like lemon on broccoli. But I definitely prefer the fresh squeezed sort verses the "lemon scented" version with the poison control warning on its label. The broccoli was trashed. The little people ate cereal. And the rest of us scarfed down buttered pasta and piping hot chicken that will surely haunt us in our sleep tonight.

Anyone want to join us for dinner? We'll begin taking reservations soon. =)

A Single Square

2010-09-11T09:11:00.005-04:00

Question. What would you do for a single square of toilet paper?

Random, huh? But seriously think about it for one sec --what would you be willing to do?

If you happen to be sitting at your computer with a settled stomach and the (taken for granted) knowledge that there's a value pack of "big roll" tucked in the bathroom closet, cupboard, pantry; you probably can't imagine taking extreme action to secure a small sampling of quilted 2-ply. And that scratchy, generic, 1-ply stock offered at most public facilities???? Willing to go to great lengths to chafe yourself with that stuff? I doubt it.

Then again, we've all been there. The mall, the library, Walmart...you gotta go real bad, you plop down and aahhhhh, then glance over and "aw, snap!" Ah, well now that's a different story. Suddenly, toilet tissue, no matter how thin or stiff, is a prized possession. So much so that you will grab that sad little brown tube and start meticulously peeling off tiny pieces --the ones that stick to the glue -- and stacking them together into something resembling a cotton cosmetic pad that you can only hope has as much absorbency. You've done it, you know you have! =)

In some cultures none of this would be relevant. You'd just squat in the street and move on. But here in the good ol' US of A, we are a little more particular about our bums. (Though perhaps not particular enough by some standards. Check out this interview with the author of The Big Necessity: The Unmentionable World of Human Waste and Why It Matters for an interesting read.) We've traveled the path from pink and blue --Vagisil would like to express their sincere thanks--to quilted, to aloe infused, to recycled. Buffing our bottoms is big business.

By now, you're thinking, Amie, what the crap are you talking about? (couldn't resist that one) I'm talking about this...all joking aside:

Every other Thursday we volunteer at a local food pantry distribution at Faith Baptist Church. It is one of my favorite things. Overwhelming, heavy, leave feeling both glad to have helped and utterly helpless at the same time FAVORITE thing! The economy continues taking a toll and this is more than evident by the ever-increasing number of families coming for help. The need is great. There are families sitting in the worship center of the church who do not have a roll of toilet tissue in their home. This is not assumption, this is not some projection of common statistics, this is knowledge based on relationships built over months and months. Toilet paper. None.

If your first thought was "well, what have they done to squander their money away?" -shame on you. Please stop yourself now.

If your first (2nd, 3rd, 175th) thought was "whoa, what can I do?" I'm so glad you asked. =)

1. Be aware.
2. Be humbled not judgemental.
3. Be there.
4. Be generous.

Okay, so you've read this blog which means you've taken care of number one whether you meant to or not. Now you're accountable. See how I did that? ;-) About number three...if your church, community, local non-profit hosts a food pantry (and lots of you reading are FBC'ers so I know yours does...hint, hint.) please volunteer. Most have lots of options for service and even varying times available for different components of the ministry. And if you spend a night or two hanging out with the families, grandmas, grumpy old men, precious babies, I assure you that humbled thing will take care of itself. But if you can't be there in person then definitely be #4. I can only speak to our specific location but the warehouse is looking bare and could easily be replenished if we all, each, everyone, the whole of us added a few staple items to our grocery list each week.

I did a little research and there are lots of items that run under $1.00: white/brown rice, pasta, chicken noodle/ tomato soup (on sale .50 each @ Target), instant mashed potatoes, tuna, salmon (lunch packs), lots of canned vegetables, etc. etc. etc.

I hope you take this as I intended it. A reminder. It's not a guilt trip. It's really not. Now, if I said that I hope you think of the need for supplies at local food pantries every time you wipe your butt today THAT would be a guilt trip. But I won't say that. ;-)

Four No More!

2010-08-04T15:27:00.002-04:00

Last Wednesday Justus began running a fever in the late afternoon. We put him to bed and I tossed and turned all night anticipating his cries when the medicine wore off and his temperature climbed. It finally happened at FOUR in the morning. I got him up and slept the rest of the night (morning) on the couch feeling like I was snuggled up to a gargantuan baked potato.

Thursday and Friday my body tried to catch up on the sleep lost but unsuccessfully. ( I was mid-way through a digestive cleanse and my system was fighting against me.)

Saturday evening after church, Bella complained of a headache. Yep. Full-blown fever by bedtime. She crashed on the couch and we decided to leave her there so we wouldn't have to wake the other pre-schooler to care for her in the night. After one hour of sleep, she made her way into our bedroom. Tim vacated to the couch and again I was wrestling an oven-hot super-spud. She moved, turned, dug her feet into my back and legs ALL night. I alternated Tylenol and Ibuprofen, wrapped her feet and legs in a vinegar soaked cloth, held, rocked, and comforted her. At long last, she fell asleep. It was FOUR in the morning.

Sunday night, I tried to catch up.

We headed to bed around 10pm on Monday and I was out like a light. Then the phone rang. 11:45. I threw on my clothes and headed out to take my friend and her daughter to the Emergency Room. We waited and w-a-i-t-e-d. She was seen. Everything was fine. She was discharged. I dropped them off around the corner and quietly slipped back into the house. Tim met me at the door. I crawled back into the bed at...you guessed it - FOUR in the morning.

I'm still trying to catch up.

Now, I'm just hoping that this four thing comes in...threes. =)

Five is Two

2010-06-15T13:34:00.006-04:00

Two years ago today, a baby boy was born. We had NO IDEA he existed. And yet somehow through an emotionally confused maze of human choice, consequences for choices, God's sovereignty, grace, and the sometimes seeming insanity of His design --- that baby boy was ours. (click here and here for his introduction posts)

Lots of families have "oops" kids. (and yeah, I'm aware of the negative connotations behind that label and how most people try to avoid saying it in such terms or at least have sense to whisper it in the presence of said child...yada, yada.) Justus was our "oops" adoption. Just like those unexpected pregnancies, we hadn't planned on him and were not exactly prepared for him. Only difference being, we didn't have nine months to get used to the idea. We had six days. Six feverishly-insane-running-all-over-creation-to-file-appropriate-documents; buying-borrowing-and-begging-for-blue-baby-stuff; picking-out-boy-names-days. It was all very surreal, well, right up until the midnight feedings. It got real, REAL fast. ;-)

But even now, there are times that I look at this golden-toned, chunky-legged boy running through my house and think where did this kid come from? And I think of all the things that could have shaken down differently and kept us from getting that phone call from Amazing Grace Adoptions and I am struck by just what we could be missing: all the snot, poop, biting, fighting over toys...I'm kidding! I'm kidding! (I knew if I got to mushy and idealistic you would all be rolling your eyes by now. =)) Sure all those things came with him but we would also have missed the mischievous way he cuts his eyes, the way he talks to the chickens as though they've been anxiously waiting for him all day, and the sweetest, puckered up kisses on the planet to mention only a few.

And so the one who pushed us over the hump to number five is a whopping two year old and knowing how many more tantrums, spills, or diapers are left to endure... doesn't make me feel any less blessed!

Focus

2010-05-05T13:22:00.004-04:00

Sometimes when you're feeling overwhelmed by life, kids, ministry, circumstances, spiritual warfare, food poisoning, fatigue, or a number of other completely random things =), it helps to shift focus and consider the things that are simple, quiet, don't wake you from sleep in the middle of the night, don't wretch your insides, and are really beautiful just because they are! Here are some shots of the really beautiful things God is letting us enjoy around the Sexton/Launch 150 stomping grounds.

The Rose bushes are exploding with color.

This one just about makes me cry. Teri Gray gave me this plant 8 years ago for my birthday. We moved and left it behind. Last year, I asked permission from the current residents to dig it up and transplanted it to our front yard. Given my track record -I expected it to wither and die immediately. Not dead. Gorgeous!

Same plant -two types -two completely different shades of purple. God is so cool.

Even the garden is showing off!

Delicate Sugar Snap blooms

Cucumbers

Mulberries ripening overnight. Cobbler on the way!

And last but not least...there are always these lovely ladies. I never would've dreamed that sitting and staring at a bunch of chickens could be so therapeutic. It's quite impressive when those layers of feathers reflect a prism of color in a kiss of sunshine.

I am waxing poetic about yard fowl. sigh. Maybe I'm even more tired than I thought. Off to take a nap.

Peeps on Parade

2010-04-29T10:58:00.006-04:00

Pictures from the Arboretum. A family day favorite.

Mamma Jamma

Hoodlums =)

Okay, okay but Nathan actually requested this shot.

More of Nathan's photography skills.

Doing our part to propagate the Dandelions.

I'm sure the horticulturists appreciate our efforts.

Quickly growing boy/ quickly growing afro.

My favorite! (picture not kids ;-))

Future model. Always posing.

Tim Vs. The Arboretum

Miscellaneous Pictures

Mia and Mamoune

Nathan and his prize bunny at the annual Wright family Easter gathering.

Did I mention the modeling career?

Heaven help us.

Freshly shorn boy --not baby anymore-- just boy. sigh.

Man on the run.

Two sweet peas in a pod.

Out of the mouths of Babes

2010-03-23T19:20:00.002-04:00

People have asked me at various times since we moved here if we feel safe. I recently got this question from a good friend after mentioning that I'd gone out walking early that morning. I had to laugh. Truth was, I did get creeped out a bit...that is, when I got to the "nice/white" section of town and found that I was completely alone between empty, two-income homes and a construction site. If I'd been grabbed up, no one would've even heard me scream. Back here on my side of town, I got waves, smiles, and even a big hug from one our middle schoolers waiting at the bus stop. So, the way I see it --the scariest neighborhood is the one full of strangers with tightly-drawn blinds and manicured lawns. But it's not just me...

Sunday nights have become a sort of family worship time for us. Usually, we light a candle or two, sing along with Tim and his guitar, and then pray for families and situations in our community. This past weekend, we put the little people down for the night and then migrated to the front porch. It was quite dark as we huddled under blankets and sang and chatted. Having read the entire Little House series to our kids over the years, Tim mentioned that he felt a little like Pa with his fiddle at the close of the day. "This ain't the prairie." I chimed in. "Not the big woods either" he added. Then Mamoune said, "I'm glad it's not the big woods! If it was, I'd be scared to go outside in the dark."

Oftentimes, perception defines reality. But it's awfully fun when reality corrects our perception.

Open Letter to My Body

2010-03-13T14:47:00.002-05:00

Dear Body,

Why have you turned against me? For 35 (soon to be 36) years I have taken decent care of you. I don't smoke or drink heavily. I give you fresh air and sunshine while protecting you from the harshest rays. I typically avoid fatty, greasy foods and occasionally even eat a plate full of spinach salad. I nurture, clean, perfume, clothe, and care for you. And I got you a good man. Don't even get me started on what he does for you. Yet you betray me. Why?

An occasional virus is one thing but this has gotten out of hand. You let down your guard in January and that stupid virus took its toll on me. Then the coughing, and the coughing, and the coughing. Then strep; then a revisit from my ovarian cyst; and most recently a possible bout with my gall bladder. Did I mention the coughing? Seriously!? I thought you were my friend.

You've lost your stamina. You've lost your ability to endure stress. You've lost your quick recovery time. And what have you gained? Girth, my dear. Nothing but girth. Darn you.

What must I do to get you back on my side? What do you want from me? A nutritious, well-balanced diet? Regular exercise? sigh...you ask a lot. I suppose I'm willing to try. But just between me and you, I better see some evidence that it's working and quickly or all bets are off, sister!

Amie

Shower Scents

2010-03-02T18:17:00.002-05:00

I was getting ready to wash my hair when I noticed that I was low on shampoo and conditioner. Low as in, already added water to the bottle and squeezed out the last pitiful squirt of foam. So, having exhausted the meaning of frugality I looked under the bathroom sink where I have a stash of hair products that were bought by or for me while on sale. Problem is, I don't have any sets; only random, mix-matched bottles like Ocean Breeze, Crisp Green Apple, Freesia, etc. The dilemma. What do I want to smell like? I finally settled on "Fresh Mountain Strawberry" shampoo and "Cucumber Melon" conditioner.

Why Amie, what's that delightful fragrance you're wearing?

Fruit salad.

=)

Post Beach Report

2010-02-17T14:41:00.004-05:00

Oh, the beauty! Oh, the bliss! Oh, the bummer of it coming to an end. We had such an amazing time in Ocean Isle, and if you follow my facebook you should know that we stretched "Naked Friday" over several days. =)

As a mom of five there is something completely liberating about sitting in the bed with my hubby, munching chocolates, sipping a Mojito, and watching 80's music videos on television at 2 o'clock in the afternoon completely nude. I never once had to wonder if a little person was going to run into the room and a) steal my chocolates b) change the channel to another rerun of Hannah Montana or c) scream in horror and require years of therapy. Freedom! Divine freedom!

Here are some pictures and commentary from the trip (no, silly, not those pictures):

Last time it snowed at Ocean Isle was 10 years ago. Very cool timing!

Looked like the waves were coming from both directions.

Snowy seashells

Snow-beach bunnies.

Whimsy meets irony.

No tan lines for Tim!

Last year the sign said "Out for Business."

We didn't expect them to top that but they did.

Considered putting a new countdown clock here but that would just be too depressing. Perhaps it should become a bi-annual Ocean Isle retreat. hmmmm.

The Countdown Is On

2010-02-08T12:50:00.002-05:00

In exactly 97 hours, 35 minutes, and 16 seconds (yeah, I made up the seconds part) Tim and I will be heading to our Third Annual Ocean Isle Retreat Weekend! (2008 here and here, 2009 here, here, and here.)

Childcare is in place. The reservations were made MONTHS ago. A bottle of muscadine wine, a couple of good books, and only enough clothing necessary for short public appearances will be packed up by mid-week and ready to go.

If you hear the sound of tires peeling out of the driveway Friday afternoon...assume it's us! =)

Peeps on Parade

2010-02-03T14:13:00.004-05:00

Random Snow Pictures

Little people. Big world.

The only thing bigger than her attitude...

is her hair!

You've seen Elf? Snowball fights are serious business to Nathan.

She wouldn't dare!

Oh, and this one is a bonus.

We are relieved to know that if the budget ever gets too low,

Bella can totally work a Target bag!

Oh, Those Beautiful Stars

2010-01-22T14:17:00.002-05:00

Several people have contacted us with questions about adoption, especially pertaining to orphans in Haiti. I have pondered for several days how to handle these inquiries. And alas in my hesitance, I have found a scapegoat. In the link below, you will find well-written, clearly laid out, no punches pulled, essential information regarding adoption from Haiti (or any other country for that matter).

http://markmiller.blogspot.com/2010/01/truth-about-adopting-from-haiti.html

This article will help you understand the reality of the process of adoption. Thank you Mark Miller (whoever you are)! But in addition to the paperwork, waiting, red-tape, and so on; there are also many emotional issues that must be truthfully addressed. Let me begin...with a story.

Once upon a time there was a young man who'd left his father's home in the country to embark on his own fortune in the big city. After years of toiling and working his way up the proverbial ladder, he longed for simpler days and returned to his father's farm for a time of reflection.

Late one evening the two went for a stroll through the open pasture. The young man looked up into the wide expanse of the night's sky and was mesmerized by the brilliance of the moon and the abundance of stars that seemed close enough to touch.

He spoke in near breathless excitement, "Oh, Dad! Despite all of my accomplishments and all of my wealth, I have never felt so complete as I do right now while realizing my own insignificance beneath the beauty and magnificence of the heavens. Thank you for sharing this moment of wisdom with me!"

Sensitive to the emotion of his boy, the father sighed deeply and said, "I guess there's just one more thing for me to tell you, son...

You're standing in cow mess."

Adoption isn't all peaches and cream. And sometimes you have to get the stars out of your eyes to realize your knee-deep in ... you know what.

Adoption - international adoption - international adoption of a severely traumatized orphan could be the most difficult journey you will ever experience. We brought our Haitian daughter home at 4 1/2 years of age and the first three years of her life with us nearly destroyed us. She wasn't the lone survivor of a major earthquake. You could've considered her a "normal orphan" if there were such labels. But it was hard. And while we have no regrets and that difficult journey taught us so much about ourselves and about God and His unwavering love for us --we do not want to see anyone walk blindly into the adoption process. It is dangerous for the adoptive parents and for the children.

All this to say --if you have fallen in love with these precious Haitian children, praise God! Start the process and be ready for if/when the need for homes arises. But please, let's debunk the notion that the government will (or ever should) start lining these babies up at the airport and handing them out like a PetSmart adopt-a-thon.

Help Haiti

2010-01-21T14:29:00.004-05:00

If you've already donated to the Red Cross or some other major relief organization...okay. But YOU SHOULD ALL KNOW that the supplies, money, and resources being sent to Haiti via the "big" companies are NOT, NOT, NOT being shared with the smaller faith-based organizations that are already on the ground in Haiti.

Those supplies are only going to government operated hospitals and the like. Meanwhile, many Christian service organizations such as Heartline Ministries are having to drive 8 hours into the Dominican Republic in order to restock their fuel, food, and medical supplies. The US government does not care that NGO's like Heartline have been serving in Haiti for 25 years or that they have transformed their offices, classrooms, etc. into emergency clinics providing transportation and care for those in the poorest areas.

The bottom line is this: I cannot tell you what the $10 you texted to 90..whatever is accomplishing in Haiti. I'm sure it's good but still. If you give to any of the following ministries ALREADY sitting in the middle of the chaos and serving their butts off (without the support of the big relief agencies)...I can not only tell you but can show you the difference your money is making.

Please, please, give!

www.heartlineministries.org

www.worldwidevillage.org

www.realhopeforhaiti.org

Help Haiti T-shirt

Interlude of Humor

2010-01-19T22:48:00.002-05:00

I was lamenting to Tim how badly I need to exercise.

"I gotta do something. I'm having to fight just to get into my jeans."

He responded, "yeah, and that's after throwing up for a whole day. How many viruses does it take to get you into your jeans?"

Sneaky smile from him. Evil glare and shaking of the head from me.

The boy likes to live dangerously and well, he's just lucky that I like him so stinkin' much. Now, to stop lamenting and actually start moving. ugh.

=)

The Play by Play

2010-01-18T19:01:00.002-05:00

Because I'm sure you want to know:

11:00 pm -Tim throws up. Justus coughs in the background.

12:00 am -Amie throws up. Justus continues coughing and screams out for "dada."

12:30 am -Tim throws up. Amie drags herself to check on Justus. He is burning up with fever and can't breathe through his nose. I take him to the living room where Tim is still hovering over the trashcan. I try to syringe Justus' nose and give him medicine. He is crying and clingy so I take slow deep breaths hoping not to toss my cookies while soothing him back to sleep.

1:00 am -Justus goes back down.

1:30 am -Cookies tossed. Plus the added joy of workings below.

2:15 am -Tag. Tim is it.

2:45 am -Back to Amie. Tim calls from the living room sofa, "I'm sorry I can't help you."

3:15 am -Tim.

4:30 am -I agonize over the garbage can for what I hope will be the last time.

I didn't really think you wanted to know this. But it serves a purpose toward my point.

Most of you know that Haiti is dear to us. Our blog name "ourcrewinhaiti" gives a hint. And while God closed the door on our physical presence there...our hearts could not be anymore intertwined from this distance. The earthquake and the aftermath have become a gauge by which we measure almost every moment of life.

At somewhere around 11:53 pm as my heart rate was increasing and I was breaking with a pre-vomitous sweat, about the time I would normally be giving God the what-for --seriously, do we both have to throw up at the same time? Can't you cut us some slack? What kind of raw deal is this? --all I could think was "One of my best friends on the planet is stepping over dead bodies. This is nothing."

I dread the day that we turn on the evening news and Haiti is no longer the top story, if even in the top three. And yet I know there are those who have already said to themselves "man, I wish they'd put something else on for a change." Even this week, as I turn off the TV or walk away from the computer I think how unfair that I get to tune it out for a time and process what I've seen; unlike those who are in the middle of it with little to no reprieve.

I dread the day that churches stop caring, collecting, or donating. I'm already frustrated by how few churches seemed to interrupt business as usual to spend a significant time in corporate prayer for their brothers and sisters in Haiti.

I am fully aware that life must continue. My mission field was not destroyed by an earthquake and in fact, 26 of them showed up in my yard today. I couldn't be so annoyed by their cluelessness about the world beyond their square mile block that I stopped loving and teaching and ministering to them.

Life goes on. But it is my sincere hope that I be willing to endure a thousand stomach bugs and a thousand sleepless nights if it keeps my heart and prayers centered on those (in Haiti, in the persecuted church, in war-torn Iraq & Afghanistan, etc) who are encountering far worse.

Things Taken for Granted

2010-01-14T10:32:00.002-05:00

Last night Justus fell off of our dining room bench and his bottom teeth puncture through his lower lip. While wonderful friends, Melissa and Rhonda, soothed him and iced his mouth, I ran through the house grabbing shoes, jackets, insurance cards, etc. Melissa and I hopped in the van and drove SIX minutes down the street to a walk-in emergency clinic. I filled out three sheets of paper, he was called back, checked out, glued up, and we were back home in less than 45 minutes.

Heavy sigh.

In Haiti today, untold numbers will take in their last breath from beneath the rubble of their homes and business places. Others will endure another day of excruciating pain from open wounds which remain untreated. Infection will set in. And some precious mama will walk the streets with her injured child in her arms for hours desperately seeking someone...ANYONE who can help her.

This is a painful contrast.

"To whom much is given, from him much will be required." Luke 12.48

There are many places receiving donations for the destruction in Haiti. These are two that we know and trust who are right in the midst of the work and need help.

www.worldwidevillage.org
www.heartlineministries.org

Haiti Prayer Meeting Tonight

2010-01-13T11:38:00.001-05:00

We are inviting anyone in the Wake Forest area who is interested to join us for prayer for the country of Haiti at our house tonight at 8:30 pm. Like so many of you, we have connections to Haiti through friends, family, and mission teams, and we are devastated and hurting for the country of Haiti in the wake of yesterday's earthquake. Our friends in Haiti have asked us to pray fervently, as conditions in Port-au-Prince are indescribably difficult.

If you'd like to join us tonight but don't know where we live, please comment on this blog with contact information or call us at 919-815-6601.

If you would like to track with our friends in Haiti who are searching for survivors and blogging/Twittering as often as possible, go to http://www.livesayhaiti.blogspot.com/.

Also, please become the answer to your prayers by giving to a reputable organization that is serving in Haiti. We personally support and recommend the Livesay family in Haiti (see blog address above) and Heartline Ministries (http://www.heartlineministries.org/), but there are many great ministries in Haiti that will all need help right now.

We look forward to praying with some of you tonight.

Just a Couple More

2009-12-22T20:48:00.003-05:00

This was Bella's "Sunday before Christmas" get up. Not something we typically splurge on but the whole outfit was a hand-me-down and she was quite a sight. Someone said that she looked like a life-sized American Girl doll.

You'd never guess she was packing diapers in that patent leather trimmed purse which SHE chose to match her shoes. What ever will I do when she become a teenager?!

Guess I'll throw her in solitary confinement with her big sis. =)

Annual Photo Shoot

2009-12-22T14:35:00.005-05:00

Our attempt at the notorious family picture was, well... let's just say that the girls showed up and rocked the scene. Mamoune's countless hours of ogling herself in the mirror as a vain 10 year old paid off BIG! I won't harp on her ever again. The boys? The boys were less impressive.

I'm afraid that the neurons traveling from the brain to the actual body parts are hitting a detour somewhere along the way. "Hey Diz, lean on this wall and look natural." Cue stiff awkwardness that cannot be measured in words. "Okay, I was hoping for 'natural' as in relaxed and cool. Not so much the combined look of a staggering drunk and someone bracing to be hit by a semi that you're giving me."

Still, despite our failure to capture the elusive "everyone look this way and smile" shot, we did salvage the day with a few sucessful pics. Enjoy and Merry Christmas from the Sexton Crew!

See the mischief behind those almond-shaped eyes?

Adorable little devil, isn't he?

He's not a fan of photo day.
(In case the forced expression didn't give it away.)

Might be my favorite shot ever.

If you can enlarge it, you will see the funniest little

smirks on their faces.

Despite what you might be thinking...

they were not lined up for the firing squad.

This may be the last you see of her until she's 30.

Thankful for this moment of unrigidness.

Did I mention putting her under lock and key. Yep.

The Brainiacs

2009-12-17T10:55:00.002-05:00

Spotlight on Mamoune:

In home school yesterday, we began a grammar unit on nouns. Mamoune and Nathan needed to identify abstract and concrete nouns. I carefully and slowly explained the difference and gave the instructions for their workbook page. "Understand?" I asked. "Yep" they answered. "Okay, go ahead and write your name at the top of the page and get started." (Yes, I know who they are and it seems like a futile step in a home school setting but I make them do it anyway!)

--7.3 seconds later--

Mamoune: Mom, I need help.

Me: Help with what? You haven't started yet.

Mamoune: um, I have no idea what I'm supposed to do.

Me: I just told you what to do!

Mamoune: I know, but I forgot 'cause I had to write my name.

Me: (Briefly staring in disbelief. Shifting to Tim for either a warning look to "let it go" or permission to mock my child mercilessly. Permission granted. Commenced to raucous laughter.)

And if that weren't enough to warrant spotlighting the superior intelligence of our eldest daughter, well, earlier the same day-

Tim and I were having a snuggly, slow morning and instead of getting up and releasing the kiddos from the nights sleep, we just took the lazy route and whistled for them. It took several shrill calls before Mamoune finally emerged. We knew she'd been awake for some time (she still lives on Haitian time and rises with the sun) and so we inquired:

Me: Where you been?

Mamoune: In my room.

Me: Whatcha doing?

Mamoune: Playing with my Barbies.

Me: Oh. You didn't hear us calling you?

Mamoune: (dead serious) No, 'cause they were all talking and stuff.

Cautious laughter on this one...

I think Mamoune knows it's all in fun but hey... I've seen Child's Play and frankly, I don't like the way Barbie looks at me.

Table Scraps

2009-12-11T11:55:00.002-05:00

I made homemade chicken noodle soup last night and Tim was trying to guess a "secret" ingredient. Nathan was confident that he had it all figured out and began reciting his version of the recipe:

"It's got noodles, half-n-half, carrots, celery, chicken breath, lime juice..."

Yeah, he didn't get much farther than that. I'll be glad to share the full recipe but I gotta warn you; getting those chickens to breathe on the soup pot ain't as easy as it sounds.

=)

Maybe It's Just Me

2009-12-10T19:35:00.002-05:00

Do you ever wish that Tylenol worked in the opposite way?

Instead of taking it when YOU have a headache, you simply administer it to the person(s) who are giving you a headache and voila!

"Good morning, my darling children. Line up for your daily dosing." ;-)

Maybe that's just me.

Chivalry is dead?

2009-12-05T08:41:00.003-05:00

Last night, after the kiddos went down, I was curled up in a tight ball on the end of the couch watching a UNC/PBS special on our "closest evolutionary relatives" -the Chimpanzee. Tim plopped down beside me. I wrapped my arms around myself and eyed the throw blanket which was all the way across the room. (no, it's really not a very big room- not the point) "I'm freezing" I said with a shiver. Almost instantly, Tim started peeling off his long-sleeved outer shirt and I thought oh my goodness,he is so sweet.

He freed his arm from the cuff and then... threw the shirt to the other end of the couch. huh? I started laughing and shared my unmet expectation with him. "Oops. Sorry 'bout that" he offered as he grabbed the shirt and wrapped it around me. Then, he walked over and got the throw blanket but accidentally smacked me in the eye while trying to cover me up. "Oops. Sorry 'bout that."

We managed to get through the early news broadcast and then headed to bed. When I came out of the bathroom, Tim was tucked neatly in on MY side of the bed. Not sure where this gesture was going, I asked what he doing. "I'm warming up your side of the bed. I figured I owed you one after botching the shirt deal." Oh my goodness, he is so sweet.

So, is chivalry dead? Nah. Maybe a little slow...but not dead. =)

Digging Out of a Hole

2009-12-03T14:16:00.005-05:00

A whole month since my last post. I'm pretty sure that's a new record in patheticness for me. I'll do my best to dig out of this hole I've been hiding in. I would, however, like to point out that I believe it is entirely Tim's fault. Something about him being here all the time has killed my creative flow. Feel free to forward your complaints directly to him. =)

Speaking of Tim --he decided we should take the "easy way out" with our nativity this year:

Not to worry. I took Isaiah's "action figures" out of the box and set them up as expected. We decided to harvest out turnip green crop before they got hit with a hard freeze. Here are the bundles we collected. They were lovingly transformed into six quart jars of greens ready for a winter meal.

Justus was quite taken by the Christmas tree that magically appeared when he woke up from his nap. He is not so taken by the "no touch" policy that is strictly enforced.

Testing, testing, testing.

And last but not least in our parade of photos. This is Tim after Bella gave him a makeover using her purple eyeshadow/lipstick/blush. Apparently, you can use this one product for any part you want to highlight.

I will do my best to update again sooner than later! Surely, I can't do any WORSE than this. (Let's hope.)

2009-11-08T19:16:00.006-05:00

Okay, so here's the real deal people. This blog is suffering. You know it and I know it. It's downright pathetic.

The problem is this: when you decide to be more accountable for your time, you end up, well, being more accountable for your time. yep. In the past, something funny, bizarre, or interesting happened in our lives and I willingly and happily blew off my children's care, supervision, education, and occasionally even their need to eat to share it with you. I was happy...you were happy...the kids were poorly attended, ignorant, and hungry but otherwise happy. ;-)

Now that Tim is here and we're back to homeschooling the medium-sized members of the crew while chasing down the wee partners in destruction and death-defying stunts, in addition to the neighborhood ministry, it's so much harder to blow hours on end staring at this computer. In some ways, this is a good thing. In other ways -it stinks. I don't get to keep you all up to date with the minutiae of daily life, I'm probably losing wonderful memories of the kids, having no written record of them now, and I rarely get to Skype with one of my best friends on the planet. (I love you, Chris!)

Maybe just maybe, some day I'll find a perfect balance for all of this but in the meantime I'll have to do the best I can and lean heavily upon the gracious and forgiving nature of my reading audience. =)

Here are a few moments that I've wanted to catch you up on:

Halloween Party 2009! We had a great time with lots of food, tons of candy (thanks to all who donated), crazy karaoke, and Monsters, Inc played on a big screen outside.

Melissa in her Pippi Longstockings costume.

Mamoune and Mia in their 80's punk get-ups.

And here's Tim is his ever so creative costume of himself. Party-pooper.

Yet, despite his lack of participation in our fall festivities, the boy built me an amazing potting bench out of a door and an old beam we dragged off the side of the road. Oh yes, skill and resourcefulness! It makes me proud.

And lastly for this long overdue post -a moment compliments of Bella. She's been potty-training herself for awhile now but was recently suffering from a back up in the system. While enjoying some quality time sitting in front of the toilet waiting for her "movement" this conversation ensued:

Me: Poor baby, I can hear the gas rumbling around in your tummy.

Bella: Dat's not gas. It's pwably the monkey in my tummy.

Me: uh, you have a monkey in your tummy?

Bella: yep.

Me: Okay, well what does he do in there?

Bella: Sometimes he eats my breakfast but he just had a snack so pwably he's doing nothing.

Goofy kid. But on the bright side, next time your feeling a little gassy, you can just blame it on the monkey in your tummy.

Aged to Perfection

2009-10-24T14:26:00.003-04:00

During homeschool yesterday, I was doodling on my dry erase board (not a very good example to the kids, I know). Nathan asked me draw him so I did:

It made him happy. Then I did this and we all got a good laugh. Now we know just how he'll look if he really takes after his father. =)

Going Green

2009-10-16T11:27:00.016-04:00

Tim here, making a cameo appearance on the blog:

Human beings got their start in a Garden, and the Bible's narrative tells the story of God's work to return us back to fellowship with Him in a new creation. There's a lot of theology in a garden, and maybe I'll write about that some day, but for now here are some pictures of what God's growing in our backyard:

I enjoyed this beautful head of broccoli in my salad today!

Looking forward to cabbage, and collard greens, too.

And turnips are on the way...

Compost: next year's fertilizer! Yum, yum...

We use the garden to supplement our food, teach us dependence on God, and teach the kids in the neighborhood about creation stewardship. The most annoying thing about the garden is when Mama Hazel (91 year-old who lives behind us) yells across the yard, "Amie's garden sure does look good!" (Amie has yet to pick and squash a cabbage worm between her fingers, which is the official initiation to green living).

Peeps on Parade

2009-10-07T10:51:00.004-04:00

I want, I want, I want!

(maybe he just wants his other shoe)

As big as he is, we're still hoping he grows into those teeth. ;-)

Cutie patootie

Chubby cheeks, luscious lips, and chocolate eyes.

He should qualify as a candy bar - sweet.

She was torn between posing for the picture

and watching for spiders.

I love this and it makes me sad at the same time.

Goofiness personified.

Movie of the Week King

2009-09-22T17:39:00.002-04:00

That was the exact title as it appeared in our little channel info box at the top of the screen. I kept thinking "King" what? The kids were just annoyed that whatever the title, it was preempting America's Funniest Home Videos. After they went to bed, I flipped back to that channel. I watched long enough this time to realize it was King Kong --the updated version. I was hooked.

You see, I remember the days when like "The Wizard of Oz" certain movies were only aired once or twice a year. King Kong was one of those special airings we were allowed to stay up and watch. Of course, the old black and white version was not nearly as gross as the newer one. Tim is forever traumatized by over sized, head-sucking, grub creatures.

I snuggled up to my sweet hubby and mused, "If I ever become the love object of an unnaturally huge gorilla, will you risk your life to save me?" He assures me he will. He's very good to me.

As the movie ended and the mighty Kong fell from his death perch atop the Empire State Building, I sighed, "At least I didn't cry this time." Tim shot me an incredulous look. It's true. I was a soft-hearted animal lover as a child. I knew that if some genetically altered beast attacked our small suburb, I alone would be capable of soothing the savage beast. I knew Ann Darrow's pain.

20 years later and five kids, I'm afraid to say that a love-sick monster roaming the streets and randomly throwing people to their deaths has less sentimental pull as it once did. I would more likely be one of the B-52 pilots than the ditsy, species-confused blond teetering off the edge of the tower. Call it cynicism, call it realism. Mostly, call it a relief to my husband who still can't believe I ever cried over such a stupid movie.

"How did he get to be so big anyway?" Tim asked.

"I think he was flushed down the toilet as a baby and lived off of radio-active waste in the sewers of New York city. Or maybe that was another stupid movie." =)

"And Justice for All"

2009-09-10T08:44:00.003-04:00

You're familiar with the adage "two wrongs don't make a right." We've said it to our kids and I believe it's true...mostly. But since none of my kids bother reading this blog I feel safe in admitting to you that, despite its truth; that second wrong---sometimes feels really right! For example...

I do my grocery shopping at the same place, at more or less the same time, with the same basic list every single week. Which means that I look at the prices of those same items every single week. I know when something goes up or down by even a few cents. I also, have a reasonable understanding of marketing. I get that the cheap, no-name brands are gonna be on the most annoying shelves while the high-priced Tommy Hilfiger's of pantry staples will be at eye-level and easily within reach. Whatever. I'm not opposed to squatting or stretching to meet my budget needs. However, I am against blatant false advertisement. It bugs me. It irritates me. It assaults my sense of "liberty and justice for all" dog-gone-it! And sometimes when you reach this level of indignation, you are tempted to take the law into your own hands; to commit another wrong. I know.

It. happened. to. me.

For weeks, months even, I've noticed that the particular establishment wherein I do my shopping, which shall remain nameless, at least until the heat is off; places various "sale" tags through out the store. Nothing wrong with that, you're thinking. Agreed. As I've shared with you, I buy recycled toilet paper (shiver). The particular brand that we use costs $2.78 for a "big roll-4 pack." It has been at that price for the duration of the time I've purchased it. Months. But suddenly, there is a colorful, attention-grabbing, sales tag sticking out of the shelf stocked with recycled toilet paper that reads: "WAS $2.98, NOW $2.78!! You save .20!" Huh?

As I walk up and down each aisle I see tags like this one. Gerber baby food jars have always been .68. I know, because I've been buying them for almost two uninterrupted years. They were never 88 cents! I am not saving 20 cents. All over the store, I find that I am surrounded by lies. BOLD FACE (type set) LIES!!! Shameless deception geared to manipulate the naive shopper into spending unnecessary money in the name of savings. Innocent, God-fearing people being taken advantage of by "the man!"

There is only one thing to do.

I look to my right. All clear. I look to my left. No witnesses. I consider looking up to discern the location of the nearest security camera. But it could be just above me which would offer a direct shot of my face; that never turns out well for those of us forced into the life of a criminal avenger. I reach into my purse and fish for a weapon. I withdraw...a #2 pencil. Drat! I was hoping for a ball-point pen. It'll have to do. With the speed and precision of a cobra, I scratch the words "NOT TRUE" on the sales tag. Oh yes, in all caps!

sigh. I think I made my point. And now that they know what they're up against, I expect coorporate headquarters will repent and resolve to only offer truth in advertising any day now.

Your welcome. =)

Insanity

2009-08-31T21:54:00.002-04:00

Tim requested that I post this. I had no intention of doing so. I am complying for his amusement. I've been reading a lot lately and that has a tendency to stir my inner writer. Problem is my inner-wanna-be-writer is sometimes sorely lacking in material. The following is an exact copy of a very embarrassing moment:

"I need to write. I'm not sure why. I don't know what there is to stay. Stay?! SAY! I certainly don't know why I am writing if I can't even spell. Silly. And yet I am compelled to sit here, pen and paper in hand, and dribble on in senseless words; which only further proves my point --I have nothing to write.

Strange though. It feels good to put the pen to the page. The motion of the letters and the flow of words is soothing. Weird. Maybe this is my therapy. Maybe I have something to say but don't know it yet. What if the pen figures out the message before I do? Goofy.

So far, I've manage half a page of absurdity and self-deprecation. Where is the therapy in that?

I think I am insane. Fortunately, I now have a written record of it."

I would just like to point out, that this was a brief moment of illogical, literary blabbering most likely brought on by stress and extreme fatigue. I am not crazy! Really. It's not like I hear voices inside my head or something whack-o like that.

What? Did you say something? Oh. Never mind.
=)

Maybe It's Just Me

2009-08-31T21:25:00.002-04:00

Recycled toilet paper.

Some things just shouldn't be marketed as recycled. I know it doesn't mean what it sounds like it means; just the same, it conjures up certain images of, well, someone else having already taken care of business using the roll of paper now hanging in my bathroom. It's disturbing. But what's more disturbing? Knowing that I paid an extra 78 cents for the recycled stuff. 78 cents more to torture myself with images of double dipped tp. scowl.

I repeat: some things shouldn't be marketed as recycled. But maybe it's just me. =)

The Tell Tale Truth of Toddlers and Tantrums

2009-08-20T06:09:00.004-04:00

Tim was drawing out an observation about Justus for our older three to ponder. Basically noting the fact that not long ago, he was a happy baby who only fussed when he needed something -food, drink, a diaper change. But now Justus is driven by a much greater force...want. And because of this wanting, he can be one fussy baby.

His new thing (besides trying to walk backwards- hugely entertaining) is to come running toward me, arms straight up, crying, "uh...uh...uh." Desperation in every step. I grab him up into my arms and immediately those chubby little hands stretch out for something else. "I want you! I want you! I want you! I want something else!" It seems for a moment that his greatest longing is to be wrapped up in the tender embrace of a loving parent. Turns out the spoon on the counter top is just as satisfying. And even though I try to snuggle, and squeeze, and kiss him; he's way over it and ready to climb down with his spoon and conquer the world. sigh.

And there lies the "tell tale heart." The part where God uses my own child against me.

How many times have I done this to my Abba Daddy?

"I want you, God! I want you, God! I want you, God! Oooh, that's shiny. I want that!"

From desperate to distracted in two seconds flat. And maybe God is saying, "Okay, I can give you that but first let's just look at each other and giggle. Nuzzle in and let me love on you for just a minute." But I'm already twisting and squirming and doing the limp fish so I can slide out of His lap and out to conquer the world. sigh.

I imagine God saying, "I love that kid, but she can be one fussy baby."

The Brainiacs

2009-08-09T13:55:00.002-04:00

I am adding this new segment to our regularly featured posts. It will consist of quotes by some of the smartest kids we know. ;-)

You will probably see a lot from this self-declared Queen of Common Sense:

Mamoune: Nine million is like...more than a hundred!

Her third grade teacher should be very proud. We are.

Out of the Mouths of...

2009-08-06T19:46:00.002-04:00

the elderly??

We've heard many interesting reactions to the racial make-up of our family; but THIS ONE may be my all-time favorite.

A few weeks ago we joined our friends (the Wright family) for a family luau and met even more family members than we'd met at the previous Easter gathering. Aunt Lucy and I were side by side in the service line; she handed out plates and I served the chicken and mac-n-cheese. We made small talk and laughed about various things. She seemed as content to have me there as I felt in being there. I had no idea what she was thinking.

The next week Melissa filled me in. Some of the family were talking the day over and we came up in the conversation. Aunt Lucy turned to Melissa's mom and said, "You reckon he ever got mad when she kept having them black babies?"

Oh, how I howled! Just call me Gomer. Tim is quite a man to tolerate this harlot of a woman stepping out on him FIVE times. Too funny.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

2009-08-05T12:29:00.002-04:00

Saturday mornings is traditionally throw down in the living room and watch kids TV day. (Nevermind that our refusal to get cable has doomed us to watch the same three Hannah Montanna episodes over and over. shrug)

This weekend Nathan took great care in preparing his pallet. In fact, he used all of his bedding AND his brothers bedding to make it as fluffy as possible. As he settled back on the 6-8 pillows he had confiscated from around the house, he sighed "Aaah. Mom, look at what I made just for me."

"Wow. That's so very selfless of you." I replied suspiciously. "Aren't those Izzy's blankets?"

"Yeah, but nobody else helped me. It's like that story in the Bible about the chicken."

Quizzical looks from both parents.

"The one where she does all the work and doesn't let anyone eat..."

We busted out laughing. "Nathan! You doof. The Little Red Hen is not in the Bible."

"Well, it's probably in the Catholic Bible!"

Good heavens! I may not get to blog for awhile...I'll be brushing up on the Apocrypha.

=)

Aged to Perfection

2009-07-27T13:48:00.003-04:00

Just a quick follow-up to the previous post on aging. Tim was riding the kids around on his back one day last week when Nathan said, "Come on, Bella! Climb up on the donkey."

Tim looked up and said woefully, "Remember when I was a horse?"

I snickered and adjusted my ice pack. Apparently, even imagination cannot fend of O.L.D.

=)

Wouldn't It Work Better If...

2009-07-21T10:31:00.004-04:00

we could all grow old gracefully.

After church Sunday, Bella and I were going to race Tim to the van. I took three half-running steps when I heard a pop and felt a crazy pain in my right calf. I stopped abruptly and clenched my leg. "Okay Mommy?" Bella asked with genuine concern. "I don't know. Something just popped." I wasn't really explaining it to her as much as I was just trying to process it out loud. I thought I would "walk it off" but the slightest pressure sent a direct message: "Houston, we have a problem."

I tore my calf muscle. Fortunately, we were headed to a surprise birthday party where our friend (and physical therapist!) to a look-see at it. Tim stayed home yesterday to man the fort while I followed a regiment of RICE (which I now know means rest, ice, compress, elevate). Today, I am feeling much better. Still hobbling but not nearly as much pain.

Yesterday afternoon I was perched on my sick bed -the couch- with my leg propped up eating a late lunch. As I lifted the spoon to my mouth a pain shot through my fingers and into my forearm. I dropped the spoon with a gasp. Shook my hand out and tried again. "Ouch!" I said while again losing my grip on the spoon.

Tim looked at me with dismay. "What now?"

"I don't know. It hurts to hold the spoon." And with a great pout: " I think I'm falling apart."

Normally at this point in the conversation Tim would say something wonderfully compassionate like "yeah, I think you have that um, oh, what is it? Oh yeah, O.L.D." But he didn't use that one on me this time. Instead, he asked, "What have you been doing lately, baby?"

"Nothing!" I replied emphatically.

He shook his head in feigned sympathy. "Well, maybe you should start doing something. Doing nothing is killing you."

I should've seen it coming. Goof.

In contrast, Bella comes to me regularly and gently pats my leg. "It's popping, Mama?" Today, she brought my ice pack and with a look of intense warning said, "It's bery, bery cold." At least someone will love me even when I'm O.L.D. =)

Table Scraps

2009-07-19T18:37:00.002-04:00

After the funeral of our friend Ty, we were having dinner and talking over life and death. Isaiah declared with much irritation, "Man, black people always have to die." We couldn't exactly argue with him --especially when we were somewhat amused by his indignation over the issue. Tim said, "Well, yeah, Ty was black so...that's too bad for you." I chuckled under my breath. (While I can't stand children who torture each other, I consider it our parental obligation to torture the children. =))

Tim took it a bit further. "You know, Isaiah, I ate dinner with Tyrone several times and now I'm eating with you. That probably means you're going to die someday."

"Aw, man." Isaiah bemoaned.

"And Ty was a musician. You like music, don't you Diz?"

The mouth hung open. Poor kid. He was practically standing at death's door when Mamoune had all she could stand of our nonsense and dropped this pearl of wisdom.

"Good grief, Isaiah. They're just irritating you. Everybody has to die in their lifetime."

Nothing gets past that girl.

And don't worry -Ty would totally approve of us using his passing to torment our kids.

In the Loop

2009-07-04T17:20:00.002-04:00

After much praying, processing, and planning...

You are invited to check out our NEW ministry blog

www.launch150.blogspot.com

Another Sexton blog? Good grief!! I hear you. But I think you'll understand when you see it. God is stretching us in new and exciting ways and maybe, just maybe you'll want to be a part of it. Click the link and let us know what you think. (Didn't mean for that to rhyme -cheesy.)

Ready to "launch?"

Photos from Haiti

2009-07-01T11:28:00.009-04:00

Troy and Tara: missionaries extraordinaire!

One of my favorite shots. Truly Haiti -people everywhere.

Heartline Women's Program

The uncommon art of breastfeeding.

Becoming more common thanks to Heartline Ministries.

Upper/Middle class housing

Low-Lower class housing

The difference between the haves and the have nots is stark.

See the woman smiling in the left corner?

Beautiful tension.

Tension

2009-06-27T22:10:00.002-04:00

We are home. At this point, we are processing much. The best I can offer you are some examples of contrasting emotions we have and continue to experience:

We were sad to leave the crew and I nearly melted down after fighting off nausea the duration of both flights (Atlanta to Miami and then Miami to Port-au-Prince).

BUT we were so excited to see our friends Troy and Tara, and Paige, and the little people!

We were overwhelmed by a visit to the Missionaries of Charity ministry which was filled to overflowing with children suffering greatly from illness and starvation. Amazing and greatly needed work being done there.

BUT I was so struck by the work of Beth McHoul and Heartline ministry as I watched the women's class where boobs were being whipped out everywhere by moms who've learned the importance of breastfeeding and now have firm, even plump little brown-eyed babies! Amazing and greatly needed work being done there!

We enjoyed every minute of our time with the Livesay Crew and love laughing, crying, and praying (while laughing and crying) with them. So refreshing.

BUT it was hard to leave and I miss them so much already.

We were glad to be reunited with our crew who were quite successfully spoiled by their grandparents.

BUT like many of you, we were devastated by the news that we have lost a wonderful friend, Tyrone, and will miss him so much.

And tomorrow, I am anxious to spend time with one of my favorite couples.

BUT I am heartbroken that they will leave from here to move far to the Midwest and I will miss them so much, too.

ugh. In a book I've been reading lately titled "The Beautiful Mess" the author talks about the clashing of this fallen world and the Kingdom of God. He refers to it as beautiful tension. Like two weather fronts coming together in a frightening but awesome display of thunder and lightning. The beauty is in all of these relationships and what each of them means and has meant to us. The tension comes in the distance, the separation, the ending of a life on this earth.

Yeah, we are still processing.

Done and Done

2009-06-17T20:59:00.002-04:00

Believe it or not the final segment in the saga of Tim and Amie's dating life has been posted. And not a moment too soon.

We head out tomorrow for Atlanta and then Haiti. We will arrive back from Port-au-Prince the day before our 15th Wedding Anniversary. I don't know if we'll be able to con a date night out of the grandparents since they will be weary to the bone by that time but we'll see what we can work out.

Regardless, I have really enjoyed sharing our story with all of you. Remembering where you come from and how God has faithfully brought you through is good for the soul! And despite how disgustingly mushy it is...I must say that it makes me fall for my man all over again. Thanks for reading!!

See you all in 10 days, if I don't manage an update while we are away.

Peeps on Parade

2009-06-15T08:42:00.004-04:00

Photos below but first, here's an update on life with the Crew.

Last week was full of fun and visits from friends. We got to hang with Jena -back from Uganda. Yeah! We also, put her to work kid-sitting at the doctor's office while Tim and I picked up our anti-Malaria meds.

We got to catch up with our friend Heather (formerly known at Faith as "Cammie") and meet her beau, Eric. We had long and mutually encouraging conversations. Well, the mutual part is a bit of an assumption. =) Eric made quite an impression! Especially when he let Justus dive head first out of his lap to the floor. We will certainly never forget you Eric. We'll think of you often while working through our son's developmental delays. Only kidding!

Speaking of Justus ---these past two weeks have been HUGE for him (besides the head injury, ha!). First, he is a walking maniac. Second, he is officially a member of the Sexton family. We received his final decree of adoption on Thursday. AND lastly, he is a whopping 1 year old today. To see how this love lump entered the scene, read here and here and here.

And finally, I am packing like a wild woman. We will leave on Thursday for Atlanta where our parents will become contestants on a new reality show called "Extreme Grandparenting." Not really, but they will think they are on Survivor by the end of the week. Tim and I will fly out on Friday to spend six days with our favorite missionaries in Haiti! If you don't know much about them -read their blog here and you will soon see why we love them so.

As you can see, it's been a busy couple of weeks and will continue to be a busy few weeks. Pray for patience in the midst of chaos, for safety while traveling, and for grandkids to go easy on their elders. Here are the photos as promised:

Heather, Eric, and the crew!

(notice Eric is NOT holding the baby-we ain't stupid. ;-))

An awesome couple!!! Aside from the fact that they make us feel really old.

A big box for a big one year old.

What could it be guys?

No matter. It all ends up in the same place.

psst...another post has been added to the brain dump. Click here to check it out.

Getting Paid

2009-06-10T14:00:00.002-04:00

I never dreamed that I could get paid to blog. Nor would I have imagined that the currency of choice would be chocolate but...true to her word, Mrs. Sarah came through with the goods. Yummy! I'm thinking of having a t-shirt made that says "Will blog for food!" I'm not too proud.

To show my gratitude and lest anyone think that I would milk the situation for more than my fair share of chocolatey goodness, I am adding another post to the story. Almost done!

ps. We have had computer issues for a week or so, which is partly to blame for the lack of activity on this blog. But I have lots of fun stuff to share and hope to get it updated soon.

Sweet Motivation

2009-06-02T11:43:00.003-04:00

Well, I started out last year with the goal of writing "Tim and Amie's Love Story" and finishing it by our anniversary. June 25th marks our anniversary AND my being exactly one year over deadline. oops. Truth be told, I may never have finished the story if not for a certain level of bribery offered in the comments of the previous post. Sarah McNeil has dangled a carrot in front of my face...a CHOCOLATE carrot, that is. And like a faithful mule, I am plodding along after it. =)

A new post has been added to the story at Amie's Literary Brain Dump and the last (or last couple) of posts are well on the way. It'll be finished by our anniversary this year for sure.

Thanks for the sweet nudge, Sarah!

If you're new to the brain dump site and haven't read the previous entries, click here to start at the beginning and then click "previous posts" and read from the bottom post up.

Confessions of a non-Scholar

2009-05-24T13:34:00.003-04:00

I'm still bouncing our Sunday School discussions off of you. Hope you don't mind.

"Now it came to pass, afterward, that He went through every city and village, preaching and bringing the glad tidings of the kingdom of God." Luke 8:1

Glad tidings. Good news. Gospel. Good news of salvation? hmmm. Yes and no. The good news of "the kingdom of God." What the heck does that mean?

Average 21st century evangelical Christians tend to focus the gospel we share (at least theoretically if not in practice) on what we have been saved from. And I'm willing to admit that's a big deal. Sin, guilt, death, hell, eternal separation from God ---a huge deal in regards to life after death.

But most of us, God willing, have 75 or so years of life before death which begs the question: what are we saved to? I think the verse above (and the preceding chapters of Luke) tells us --the good news of the kingdom of God.

You already know by the title of this post that I am no scholar. I have no seminary education, but according to my understanding and some help from Luke and the Holy Spirit (I don't think they had seminary educations either so take it for what it's worth ;-)), the kingdom of God seemed to look something like lepers, prostitutes, and demoniacs being touched, loved, and restored; the rich selling what they have to give to the poor who are no longer outcasts; and systems that perpetuate neglect, abuse, oppression, and hierarchy in the name of religious piety and arrogance being challenged by justice, community, equality, and freedom in the name of and imitation of Jesus.

Not much has changed. We still have our cast offs -addicts, homeless, immigrants. We still have the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer. We still have greed, systemic poverty, and corruption. While Jesus walked the earth, He lived the kingdom of God. Exampled it for us in every relationship. And His devoted followers did likewise. What about us?

Do we know what we've been saved from? Praise God! Do we know what we've been saved to? If Scripture clearly defines it --will we follow?

"Why do you call me Lord, Lord and not do the things which I say?" (Luke 6:46)

Peeps on Parade

2009-05-20T13:29:00.004-04:00

Mamoune gets the first frame for two reasons.

1. Her birthday was Sunday and I failed to post it.

Here she is with freshly permed birthday hair.

2. Because she is responsible for the next group of pictures featuring Isabella

wearing some... unconventional fashion creations .

The Gypsy-Pirate Wench Look

When you just can't decide between wandering aimlessly

and walking the plank. OR...

The red-carpet ready and slightly risque crocheted dress.

(Granny -do you recognize your blanket?)

Oh look! The paparazzi. Muah...love you all...muah!

You thought that was revealing. Here's some serious flesh for you:

And last but not least today; here we are on our Mother's Day date.

It was peaceful. We were alone. We were happy.

We have really big foreheads. shrug.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

2009-05-14T12:16:00.003-04:00

Mamoune has been dealing with a bit of a bullying situation on the school bus. Actually, it's been an off-and- on, year-long ordeal but Monday was the worst incident thus far. (For all of you who watched Oprah's special on kids who are bullied and commit suicide -don't panic! We are taking care of the problem and the school Principal is working with us to do so.)

We were talking with her over dinner about how and when to protect yourself. Our advice was first, to try and avoid the conflict. Ignore the girl. At the very least, don't get into a name-calling, put down, word battle. And secondly, if the other student makes any move to touch her physically she has two options. 1. Look for the way out and get away from her. If the girl has cornered her then 2. hit her ONE time HARD enough to make a way out and then, get away from her.

If you know anything of Mamoune from this blog, you know that she is strong as an ox. She clearly has the lean, muscular, can-carry-three-times-my-body-weight-on-my-head, Haitian genes. So, we were completely perplexed by her hesitation to stand up to this bully. At one point I challenged her with this:

Amie: Mamoune, you have tried to stand up in my face. You've been so mad at me and Daddy for things that you did wrong and yet you aren't mad enough to stand up to this girl when she is wrong. What the heck?

Mamoune: I'm not afraid of you.

Amie: (eyebrow lifted) I can change that, you know?!

Mamoune: No. It's just that (get ready parents; this is one of the phrases you dream of hearing your child say) you guys are loving mean but she is hating mean.

Amie: (needing to finish the conversation but wanted to a gospel shuffle around the kitchen singing the Hallelujah chorus) So, you know that we aren't really going to kill you even when you bow up at us but you don't know that she won't. Is that what you're saying?

Mamoune: Yes.

That's certainly understandable. Now, for any of you who may be lamenting over my poor daughter's misfortune or inwardly chiding: that's what they get for putting her in public school. Pipe down! Because this is the BEST part of the story.

Apparently, coming up against a seemingly impenetrable force of blatant sin and the difference between love and hate makes a young lady ponder things. Monday night before going to sleep, Mamoune was thinking. Thinking about her life. Thinking about her owns sins. And thinking that she needed somebody to take care of both. Luckily, we just happen to know a Guy who is into forgiving sins and giving life. So, without any "repeat after me" from her parents; Mamoune prayed in her own words and gave her life to Jesus, her sins to Jesus, and even her enemy to Jesus.

Yeah public school!!!??? Nah. Yeah bully!!!??? Nope. Yeah God!!!??? Yes. For "working all things together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose."

Table Scraps

2009-05-11T14:45:00.003-04:00

Now, the juices are flowing again. whew!

I am notorious for using the words "shut up." Naturally, the children have picked it up and along with neighbor kiddos use it in abundance. Recently, Tim declared that "we will not be a 'shut up' family!" This was directed mostly to me. I tried to explain my position. I agreed that it shouldn't be over used but there are certain times when the kids are fighting or yammering on at each other about such nonsense, nothing else seems to fit.

Tim wasn't buying it. He shot me down with a look and I threw my hands up in surrender. Not even five minutes later, the two oldest engaged in a classic battle of "did not -did too -did not -did too." The decibel level inched higher with each round. I submitted, bit my tongue, and offered Tim a "what now?" look. He began with great confidence. "Since you two have so much to say to each other, I will turn this into a positive situation (a smug look in my direction) by having each of you say something that you like about the other." crickets. "Who's going to go first?" A tumble weed rolled across the kitchen floor.

"Nathan, you have nothing nice to say about your sister?" The reply was firm. "No!"

"Mamoune, can you think of anything that you like about your brother? Another wall. "No."

"Well, if you cannot say one single nice thing to each other then...then...you should probably both just...just...shut...up!"

AHHHHH! Sweet freedom! Sing with me: "My chains are gone, I've been set free..." Oh, how I laughed. The fact that he tried so stinkin' hard makes me love him. The fact that he gave up makes me love him even more!

Bullet Points to the Rescue

2009-05-11T13:34:00.003-04:00

Blogging is one of those things that moves in cycles. As you may have noticed, I have been on a cycle of nothingness. I open the account. I hit "new post." I stare blankly at the page. I sign out. Unfortunately, there is no tracker for blog attempts which means you aren't even aware of my feeble and wasted, good intentions. All you know is that the little marker in the corner still said "April 29, 2009" -- a week and 1/2 real time. Forty years blog time.

Today, I am going to try to bullet point my way out of this slump. It will give you a picture of the past couple of weeks and give me the freedom to move past those events and on to fresh topics of blogdom. Here's hoping. =)

We applied for passports for the three older kids. (No, we are not fleeing the country.) The boys' came back with no problem. Mamoune, however, needs further documentation that she made a lawful entry into the United States. Apparently, a Permanent Resident Visa issued by the Department of Homeland Security doesn't settle the issue. Crazy.

This past Friday, I took two 13 year old girls from the neighborhood out to celebrate their recent birthdays. We had a fun time and talked about EVERYTHING you can imagine. I only hope they learned as much as I did. ;-)

In about two weeks we will begin an in-house Wednesday night Bible study for twelve kids. (1st-4th grade) We'll be studying black heroes of the Christian faith and a couple of the moms have agreed to help out with crafts and such. We are very excited about this!

Addendum: The book that we are using for this study is by Dave & Neta Jackson. It is called Heroes in Black History (True Stories From the Lives of Christian Heroes) Each story is broken into four parts -an intro followed by three narratives. Each narrative has a scripture reference for some character trait exemplified by that person and three discussion questions. I could see it as a bedtime devotional, dinner conversation starter, short or long-term bible study. The set up makes it very versatile. We plan to do one historical figure per week and the children will choose one of the three verses to memorize for the next week's class. Also, there will be a craft time and I am mulling over ideas for a group project that will span the twelve week course: a freedom quilt or something along those lines. Anyway, the book alone is worth checking out!

The kids crafted delightful homemade Mother's Day cards for me. The fact that they fought the whole time they worked only added to the sentiment. But the real present was a date night with my hubby! (Thanks to the Rego family) Nothing says "Happy Mother's Day" like pawning your kids off on someone else for four hours.

More Sad News

2009-04-29T08:28:00.003-04:00

I'm sorry that the blog hasn't been such a fun place here lately, but I need to ask you for your prayer support again.

My friend Melissa (the family we spent Easter Sunday with) lost her 13 year old nephew last night in a four wheeling accident. They are a very close family and I know you can all understand the devastation they are experiencing. Please pray for his parents, his two sisters, and for all these aunts, uncles, and cousins.

This past Sunday, we read the story in Luke of the widow who lost her only son. Jesus was passing by as the funeral procession made it's way down the street and Luke tells us that when Jesus saw her, "He had compassion on her." I pray that this family would feel the compassion of Christ in the midst of their hurting.

Wouldn't It Work Better If...

2009-04-23T09:58:00.003-04:00

we could all be super heroes. Maybe just for a day. Selfishly, I must admit that if I were a super hero (I would call myself "Scarlett Flame" btw. Is that already taken? =) ) I would not use my powers to right the corrupt systems of the world nor to save the innocent in dark alleys. I would not even rescue a kitten from a tree. I told you I was being selfish. On any other day, I would gladly do those things. But today...I need super hero powers to tackle my own house.

There's a moment when you realize that there is more to do in 1400 square feet of space than is humanly possible in only 12 hours. Of course, it doesn't help that you use up one of those hours to blog about how you can't get anything done. shrug. Without super hero status it is a "one bite at a time" elephant sized project. The problem with eating an elephant one bite at a time is that from certain angles, the little bites can't be seen and it still looks like one honkin' elephant sitting there.

Nonetheless I, the Scarlett Flame, am going to attempt to eat an entire elephant today. I'll let you know how it turns out.

Oh, and ---does anyone have a red body suit I can borrow? ;-)

In the News

2009-04-21T09:03:00.002-04:00

There was a girl (17) whom we met shortly after moving into our neighborhood two years ago. Her name was Gabby and she would walk through our area while visiting a friend a few blocks over. She was popular with all the kids because she would often share candy with them and always stopped to chat if anyone was outside playing. She talked with the kids as though their stories were the most important thing she'd heard all day. She seemed very sweet, sincere, and was always smiling. We saw less and less of her as the two years passed.

She was shot to death on Sunday by her boyfriend. Here is a link to the news story. They refer to her as a woman which is hard for me to swallow. I know that 19 year olds would argue with me but when you are talking about the end of a life, nineteen hardly seems grown. Our kids were sad to hear what happened and a few of the kids who've known her longer have taken the news very hard. Please pray for them as they process it. Please pray for the Reece family. They are grieving in a way I cannot even imagine, and never hope to. But our God knows exactly how they feel. Pray that He will be very real to them in this time.

Also, pray that the guy responsible will be caught. As of this morning, he is still on the run.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

2009-04-20T10:23:00.002-04:00

Last week, the three youngest and I had to run a few errands, one of which was spending a gift card at the mall. We grabbed some lunch in the food court and headed up the stairs to the store of said card. Halfway there, I looked down and noticed that a bit of food was stuck to my shirt.

"Oh, I had food on my boob." Isaiah gave me a sideways glance. I brushed it off but it left a small grease spot behind. "Aw man, now I have a spot on right on my boob. Isaiah, why didn't you tell me I had food on my boob?"

Isaiah threw both hands up as though creating a protective shield around his head and said, "Mom! Will you quit saying that?! You are freaking me out!"

Oops. Note to self. Do not say boob in front of Isaiah.

WHAT?! I'm freaking you out, too? ugh. Note to self. Do not say boob on the blog. oops.

;-)

Sarcasm

2009-04-16T15:13:00.002-04:00

Ode to Sarcasm

by Amie Sexton

Sarcasm, sarcasm, thou art a wicked friend
For what pleases in the beginning, surely bites me in the end.

You bring me great joy when good friends are near
The smiling faces of ones I hold dear
But in the public domain where the audience may swell
I fear you don’t translate yourself very well.

To attempt to restrain you, I once measured my words
Hoping not to confuse the ones who have heard
And I began to take literally the words others spoke
Till alas, someone muttered “Man, she can’t take a joke.”

So, you see that you’ve left me in a straight betwixt two
To embrace or replace thee, what shall I do?
Yet, even now I admit that in this very prose
I have used you again to make my point, I suppose.

Oh sarcasm, sarcasm, thou art a wicked friend

For what pleases in the beginning, surely bites me in the end.

Anonymous

2009-04-14T09:02:00.002-04:00

I published this comment under the previous Easter post despite the fact that I'm not at all a fan of "anonymous" opinions. It seems a bit unfair when our names, faces, and personalities are out there for public scrutiny (by our own choosing) but others can offer a critique of us without returning the favor. But whatever. I'm reprinting the comment here so that I can answer it openly and thoroughly.

Anonymous said:

I find it kind of sad the way that you represent the community you live in. I assume people who know you know that you're joking around. But I'm sure there are lots of people out there who read your blog regularly who don't know you and aren't able to contextualize your observations. I'm one of those people.

I always felt that part of the reason you decided to become part of this community was to help dispel myths about lower income neighborhoods. I feel that often when you talk about your neighbors you're simply perpetuating these stereotypes, and it saddens me.

I've read your blog for some time now, and I've actually wanted to raise this in response to a few posts, and i decided today i wanted to share this.

I hope you won't take this as a slam, but rather as something to reflect on.
jzr

JZR:

Let me start by saying that I don't take it as a slam. There are no ALL CAPS or over used !!!! It is much too thoughtfully written to be taken as an all out assault. So, thanks for that. Honestly, I am more confused by it than anything else. I did reflect -quite literally- I scanned back through a good year's worth of posts; and while I'm willing to admit a heavy bias, I don't see it.

Even more confusing was the connection to the post under which you penned your thoughts. The entire point of the previous post was how misguided and untrue my sons fears and concerns were. The opposite of what I understand your accusation to be.

I'm not sure which stereotypes you believe I have perpetuated. In fact, I had to go all the back to November of last year to find another post in which I specifically mentioned any person or situation directly relating to the neighborhood.

We moved into this neighborhood to love people. I suppose there are "myths" surrounding low income areas but there are also realities. I could have not shared the story of Willie in an effort to dispel the myth of alcoholism in the 'hood but... Willie exists. Alcoholism exists. What would you have me do? Does my recounting of Willie's story have a sarcastic edge? Sure. Perhaps you would offer a more sober-minded response to having a man stand in your living room and ask you (or your wife) to unzip his pants. Consider yourself the bigger person. I figured I had three options in this situation: be scared of it, be angry at it, or laugh about it. I chose laughing. I choose laughing.

I'm guessing (feel free to correct me) that you were put off by my asking if it was smart for my friend to bring white people to her party. Well, here's how that breaks down for me. Most white people would not have asked that question (out loud) for one of two reasons --

1) Fear. If I acknowledge our racial difference it may cause tension. That's not the kind of relationship I have with my friend, Melissa. Or any other friends for that matter. I did not have to be afraid of damaging the relationship by stating the obvious.

2) Arrogance. (unintentional, but still) Of course I don't have to ask if I'd be welcomed at the party. As a white American I am welcomed virtually anywhere I go. I'm not and never have been obligated to consider acceptance as a factor. The same is not true for African Americans. My willingness to ask (even within humor) acknowledges that they have the right to exclude me. I'm grateful that they didn't.

We love our neighborhood. We love our neighbors. We are surrounded by amazing, hard-working, loving, and giving people. There are also addictions, abuses, and sin. To deny either would be to misrepresent our community. To withhold love from any would be to misrepresent our God. The best we hope to do is to serve both wholeheartedly and honestly.

If we have screwed it up by your account -you are always welcome to come and help us out.

Peeps on Parade

2009-04-13T13:20:00.003-04:00

Peeps as in kids not the sugar coated, little Easter treats (which I am not fond of btw -feels like your eating a marshmallow that was dropped in sand, blech).

Happy Easter Everyone! You'll be happy to know that we survived. Whew! You mean you weren't worried about us? Well, that's okay. Nathan was worried enough for the both of you. Allow me to explain.

We were invited by friends down the street to join them for a big family barbecue/Easter celebration at the park in Raleigh. In jest I said, "Are you sure your family won't be wondering why in the world you invited white people to the party?" We laughed. We moved on. Didn't think much else about it. UNTIL...sometime Friday when Nathan said, "We shouldn't go because everybody might look at us weird since we're the only white people that'll be there."

We took a brief moment to remind him that, well, first of all, he's NOT white. And if need be, he could just slide in next to any of the black women and no one would ever have to know he was with us. =)

Nathan has a gift. It is a wicked gift. The gift of hyper-imaginative paranoia. After mulling this situation over in his head for two more days, the child was more or less convinced that as soon as we stepped in the park area a full blown, gangster style, race war would break out --an entire park full of black people against me and Tim. Ay-ay-ay.

After continuous assurance that they were not inviting us only to kill us and that if Miss Melissa wanted Mommy dead she could just shoot me at the bus stop any morning of the week; we made our way to the gathering. And...

Nathan had a GREAT time!!! They all did. Sure, there were a few odd glances as people tried to place us but Melissa was quick to introduce us as friends and before long "Big Man" was giving Tim the secrets to homemade Tequila. Ha! Life is never dull. Here are some pictures of the fun.

Little Tots egg race.

The bigger kids egg race. Nathan came in third.

Luckily, the prize for third place was a "We will not kill your parents today" ribbon. ;-)

Mamoune shaking her stuff for the hula hoop contest.

Tim volunteered to start a "bald head" contest and we figured he was a shoo-in until one of Melissa's sisters threatened to take her wig off. Oh, and Bella made off like a bandit. The girl ate no less than four cupcakes. Every time I turned around she had another one from somewhere. She was awfully sluggish as I tried to get her out of bed this morning. She gave a whispery "yes" when I asked if she had a "sugar hangover." My, they do start early these days.

Maybe It's Just Me

2009-04-01T08:25:00.002-04:00

...or in this case Tim.

We recently had a discussion about "lol" as seen on blogs, facebook, in chat rooms, etc. Here is his take:

Tim: LOL? Really? Is that an lol? I mean maybe it's a COL -chuckle out loud but an lol? I just don't get how often people use that. It takes a lot to make me laugh out loud. (I didn't bother mentioning ROFLOL's because I knew that would only fan the flame ;-)) I think most of the lol's should really be labeled as what they are: a "WAAH."

Me: A waah?

Tim: Yeah, a Weak Attempt At Humor. waah.

That made both of us lol.

The un-Missionary Memoirs

2009-03-25T12:54:00.004-04:00

Through the months of March and April we are hosting Friday night movies at our house for the neighborhood gang (uh, gang of kids that is -maybe next year we'll start entertaining the other gangs :-/). It's been going great with anywhere from 17 to 22 kids each week crammed into the living room. We watch a fun movie and then have a discussion about biblical principles that can be drawn from the movies. We've covered peer pressure, perseverance, using your talents for God's glory, and obedience thus far.

Our Sunday School class has helped us to provide popcorn and lemonade for the kids. One couple bought us a Whirley Pop (thanks Lesters!!) so we can pop it up in bulk. Bella has become a real pro at finding the leftover popcorn stuffed in the couch and on the floor. Most of the time we catch her before she eats it but...you know. As long as she finds it before Justus does, we're doing okay.

The kids have responded really well to the devotions and several are asking deeper questions about the gospel so that's very cool! This week is Over the Hedge and we'll get to talk about honesty, community, family, and serving others verses using them. Speaking of community and family, we may have emphasized this a little too well...

While Tim and I both feel that our quiver is full and have no intentions of adding to the tribe again (read here for Tim's fool-proof plan); it seems that despite the fact that we are no longer adopting children, children continue to adopt us. I found these written in the fronts of two different bible study books:

Clearly, we need to work with ALL our sons and "derters" on their spelling. Too bad we can't claim them on our taxes. ;-)

Peeps on Parade

2009-03-25T12:50:00.003-04:00

Bella Pan (and her shadow)

Out of the Mouths of Babes

2009-03-18T12:44:00.003-04:00

This one is dedicated to all the moms out there!

After a week of extra kids, Tim being gone for two -12 hour days, and a movie night with the neighborhood crew, I decided that we were having leftovers from a sandwich platter for dinner last Saturday night. I pulled out the goods. It was all there -bread, lettuce, meat, onions, cheese, etc. I was exhausted. I started fixing a sandwich. MY sandwich.

Isaiah paused near me while playing with his brother and sister in their wonderful, carefree way and said, "Don't put onions on my sandwich, Mom!"

Time stopped.

I took in a slow, calming breath and replied, "That won't be a problem since I'm not making your sandwich."

He responded with complete incredulity, "Well, who's sandwich are you making?"

You saw Terminator. Remember how we could see the world through his laser eye and all the information was being uploaded into the system to determine who gets, well, terminated? uh-huh. I whipped my head around, pinning Isaiah to the spot with my eyes, and I am almost positive that the words "Target Locked" flashed across the back of my retina. He slowly and sheepishly moved away.

I took MY sandwich, sat on the couch, and commenced to eat. Tim walked in from the bedroom and said, "Does any body else get to eat or just you?" You know what happened next, right?

Previous Target Deleted. New Target Data Uploaded. Target Locked.

=)

Peeps on Parade

2009-03-12T14:56:00.006-04:00

It's more like PEEP on parade...Mamma Jamma, that is.

Today was the First in Fitness county wide competition and as I mentioned before, Mamoune was representing her school in the pull-up event. She looked great. She did her best. She pulled with everything she had but came up short in the end. For some reason my computer refuses to rotate video so, here she is in action (albeit sideways):

The girl who won did twenty-six pull-ups. Twenty six?! Yeah, let's just say that if this had been the Olympics, we would've called for an on the spot urine check. That ain't no Flintstone vitamin her mamma's been giving her every morning. Oh, don't worry. We aren't teaching our kids to be sore losers. Suspicious but not sore. ;-)

We are very proud of her for trying and as Tim said, "A yellow ribbon, a red t-shirt, and half a day off from school is not too bad."

Out of the Mouths of Babes

2009-03-11T08:56:00.002-04:00

I had to take Nathan to the Emergency Room at about 4:30 Monday morning. (He was having stomach pain -x-rays were clear and he's much better now. Apparently it was just an inflammation.)

They gave him an adult sized gown which bothered him greatly because he was not only forced to don the wonderful open back side but the v-neck hung down almost to his naval. He was feeling quite exposed all around. We managed to tie it up as best we could and I assured him that it was what ALL the cool patients were wearing these days.

He looked down at the gown and said, "Mom! There's a pocket!?" It wasn't really a question as much as it was a puzzled statement. I busted out laughing. I don't know how, in all of our trips to the ER/surgery I had missed it. The gown has a pocket. I told him that maybe the pocket was a place to keep your "smokes" while you wait for your test results. He didn't buy it.

In the end, we decided it was some one's idea of making you feel like your wearing a real shirt and not just a square cloth with arm holes. I said, "Nathan, don't you feel better knowing that even though your butt is hanging out the back you have a lovely pocket?" He gave me the one-arched eyebrow look.

Apparently not.

Peeps on Parade

2009-03-09T12:15:00.005-04:00

I know it's blurry but I still love this picture of my silly girls.

You just want to bite those cheeks, don't you?

Loving the spring weather! (Grandparents: notice the curls. =))

The kids were racing across the yard. Nathan just couldn't win for two main reasons:

1. He was too busy hamming it up for the camera.

(Very funny picture if you can click on it and blow it up to full size.)

Reason 2. The girl is a machine. Look at that form.

P.S. Mamoune will be representing her grade (girls) in the pull-up event for a county wide fitness competition. She's so excited and we're pretty dang proud of her!

Bella wasn't much for running but she had a seriously determined walk!

Isaiah managed to avoid a picture this go round. But not for long.

Confessions of a non-Scholar

2009-03-04T10:58:00.003-05:00

We've been studying Luke in Sunday School for several months now. It's a great time of digging deep into the story of Christ. Today, I decided to transfer my notes into a journal and it's amazing how you can see something new every time you look at the Word.

Here are some of my thoughts about Zacharias and Elizabeth:

Chapter 1, verse 6 says, "And they were both righteous before God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless."

Righteous. Blameless. This is the way God saw them.

But verse 7 shows us how the world viewed them. "But they had no child, because Elizabeth was barren, and they were both well advanced in years." Old and dried up. It was assumed, back in the day, that childlessness was the result of God's judgement. Clearly, this was not the case. And yet even this blameless, righteous guy, standing face to face with an angel, came up short on faith.

So, Gabriel gives him news about a baby. Zacharias more or less says, "Prove it." Gabriel says, "You asked for it." And Zacharias is silenced until the birth of his son. He finishes up his priestly duties and heads home. Still mute. At some point he has relations with his wife Elizabeth -which as a side note is probably very appealing to most men: sex without the obligation of conversation. ;-) She conceives a child.

Here's the part that jumped off the page to me today (yes, I'm finally getting to the point) -- In verse 25 Elizabeth says, "Thus the Lord has dealt with me, in the days when He looked on me, to take away my reproach among people."

Stage notes: Spotlight opens on Liz at center stage and... cue the music.

"It's all about me: Elizabeth
And all this is for me, to take away my reproach
It's not about God and his desire to save all humanity from their sinful state..."

Yeah, I quit before I had to rhyme something with reproach. Anyway, I really don't think she got it. Okay, I'll cut her some slack -does God ever have multiple purposes? Sure. Does His big picture include smaller, individual blessing? Yeah, yeah. Was her husband in a position to articulate helpful information? Not exactly.

Still, her focus was as narrow as it could possibly be. Oh, one more: Do I do the exact same thing? Absolutely.

Jump ahead to verse 41.

"And it happened, when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, that the babe leaped in her womb; and Elizabeth (important words) was filled with the Holy Spirit."

Thanks to the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth's eyes are opened and she understands that she is part of something much bigger than just public opinion regarding barren women.

And so my personal application is a prayer that when I am tempted to narrow my focus and make it all about me, the Holy Spirit will open my eyes and give me a greater vision and a more clear picture of my part in God's plan.

Table Scraps

2009-02-26T13:10:00.003-05:00

A while back we were having a family discussion around the unfortunate reality that we are all sinners; that we all mess up sometimes; and that believe it or not, parents need Jesus just like kids do.

I tried to break it down for them:

"Our parents screwed us up the way they thought was best. And we are screwing you up the way we think is best. And someday, you will have your own kids and..."

"We can screw them up however we want to!" Mamoune interjected enthusiastically.

"Now, you've got it!"

I fought back the urge to hoist Justus up in the air and sing "Circle of Life." sigh. The baton has been passed.

=)

Seriously

2009-02-23T10:02:00.003-05:00

About thirty minutes after the two oldest headed off for school, Isaiah noticed Nathan's lunch box still in the fridge. I emailed his teacher immediately, hoping to stave off a melt down. (He's my easily stressed over the small stuff kid) Just moments later, the phone rang and it was Nathan. I assured him that I would bring it to the school.

"Will you bring it to my classroom?"

"I'll probably just drop it off at the office since I'll have the other kids in the car, buddy."

"Oh. (disappointment) Well, how many minutes will it take so I can come back up here."

For heaven's sake. "Nathan, I will bring it to your class, okay?"

"Okay, good. Thanks Mom. See you in a few minutes."

I figured he just needed a minute of reassuring love from his mom and I could comply. So, after feeding the little people, we bundled everyone up and loaded into the van. I parked as close to the front as possible and threatened Isaiah with wrath of biblical proportions if he opened the door for any reason short of the van catching fire.

I signed in and tore through the halls of the school at record pace. When I reached Nathan's class, his teacher said "There you go, Nathan. You'll get to eat lunch now." He looked up at me from his desk (just three feet from the door) and stared. I stared back.

"Just put it in that basket by the door." he said. I looked around and pointed. "Yeah, just put it in there." I did. I waited. He smiled. A "thanks but why are you still standing there" smile.

I whispered, "Nathan, could I see you for a second?" He looked confused by this request. I tried to force my eyes to stay open and not disappear into evil slits. "Nathan, could you please come here for a moment?"

He climbed from his chair and met me in the hallway where he gave me a tentative hug AFTER scoping the hall for any onlookers. Seriously?!

And that was that. The boy who insisted on my physical presence even at the risk of his own siblings safety barely gave me a second look. Goofball!

Beach Report (The Final Installment)

2009-02-20T16:12:00.004-05:00

Let's just say that with scenery as beautiful as this:

And a man as adorable as this:

There was lots and lots of this:

Insert four oldest children screeching, "EEEWWWWW!"

Which is why we don't take them with us. Well, part of the reason. ;-)

Beach Report (Second Installation)

2009-02-20T14:58:00.004-05:00

Aside from the unexpected, there was the purely silly. While relaxing on the beach, I challenged Tim to see who could dig into the sand and find the largest shell. Then we decided to see if we could tunnel over to each other. (Remember building tunnels in the sandbox as a kid?) We shared a brief romantic moment as our hands met in the sand. awww. Then, we moved on to separate projects. Tim took great care in fashioning a sand castle he believed resembled some ancient ruin.

I chose a more modern inspiration and incorporated my shell competition hole into a true masterpiece. La toilette.

On the way home, we stopped at nearby "Sharky's" where we thought the kids would enjoy seeing their fin-phobic mom cozy up to this replica. These are the images that I have nightmares about.

So, now you've seen the unexpected and the goofy but the thing we spent most of our time doing...well...

Beach Report (First Installation)

2009-02-20T11:43:00.005-05:00

I promised a steamy report on our trip to Ocean Isle and here it is for the millions of you (or just Tara and Shari) who've been anxiously waiting.

The goal was simple: Good conversation and plenty of it; good food and plenty of it; good lovin' and plenty of it. In two words --MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! It was a great weekend. Great! Really, really great! =) We enjoyed everything we set out to enjoy though there were a few little surprises. For example...

This was the last bullet point on our google map. Just around the bend and we would be barefoot on the sand. It was the first of our "what the heck?" moments. Somehow we missed the detour. Twice. But soon enough we found our way around the construction and were back on track. Then there was this...

I was in the room MOST of the time while Tim made phone reservations. I never heard him ask for the room with the honkin' mirror. But there it was. It was a "what the heck?" and a "well, alrighty then" moment at the same time. You work with what you got, right? ;-) Now, this fellow -he was definitely NOT part of the package.

We decided to drive into Calabash for some food and shopping. Just a mile or so from the hotel, this guy was sprawled out on the bank of a golf course pond. What the heck? We couldn't figure out if he was real or not from a distance, but another family had walked around to photograph him. I watched carefully to see just how close the man got and he was clearly minding his distance which confirmed that this was not just someones idea of whimsical statuary.

Turns out there were two of them soaking up what little heat they could on a cold and overcast day. The other family told us that there was also a third -the biggest one -who was no where to be seen. The guy said that they were pretty reluctant to move since it was so cold and we could "get almost right up to him." We told him we'd pray about that. I was terrified. Next to my so-called irrational fear of sharks is a close second --the fear of alligators and crocodiles. Pretty much any creature that kills by biting, shredding, or ripping away flesh -not on my list of faves. And yet, when Tim asked, "you wanna walk over there?" I found myself saying, "yeah, kinda."

We got out of the van and I proceeded to circle the pond at the widest possible point. Tim mocked me but I was satisfied knowing that if anything came up out of the water, I had a six foot lead. We got within twenty, twenty-five feet of him which was close enough. As I was poised to snap the pictures, I felt it best to give Tim a warning: "If you jump at me right now, I will crap my pants and that will be the end of this day. Seriously. You just need to know." Tim laughed and said, "Well, you just need to know that if he comes after you -I'd like to say that I'm man enough to throw myself between the two of you but seriously, I will leave you standing there and run screaming like a girl all the way back to the van."

Knowing where each one stood, I proceeded to photograph with shaking hands, and one eye scanning for signs of the unseen third gator. Insane! But totally cool.

Counting Down

2009-02-10T14:08:00.003-05:00

It looks like our annual trip to Ocean Isle is going to happen. I won't reveal the identities of our hopeful house/kid keepers just yet. I would hate to leave an obvious trail in the event that they have to cancel on us AND their lifeless bodies happen to be recovered in the same day. ;-)

But barring such an odd coincidence, we will be beach bound this weekend! Woot-woot! We are very excited about this time together. The kids are sick of our insensitive gloating. Isaiah made a scathing accusation on behalf of himself and his siblings: "You guys are just trying to get rid of us!"

"Aw, honey" I responded with exaggerated sympathy. "We are not trying to get rid of you...we are trying to get away from you."

You see the difference, don't you? I know. We'll be paying for another year of counseling. shrug.

Since I have much planning, packing, and organizing to do and since I have been struggling to keep the blog clipping along at a steady pace lately; I've decided to create some standard postings. They're just titles, really, that will help me sort life's little moments as they happen and hopefully, keep you updated more frequently.

Blogs are by nature selfish. You write with the assumption that anybody out there gives a poo-shoo what you think. So, you tell me...is there anything you want to hear my opinion about? Some topic that you would like for me to rant or rave over? I would ask if there are things you do NOT want me to share but I think the simple answer there is --don't want to know-don't read it. Of course, I will take into consideration my Uncle Eddie's distaste for human waste stories. =)

Here is the list of headers so far and a brief description of what to expect when you see it in the title. You'll recognize a few of them from this past week.

Wouldn't It Work Better If...
The questioning of things that seem, irrational, illogical, or just plain dumb

Maybe It's Just Me
Thoughts on controversial people, situations, and current events

Table Scraps (formerly Tidbits from the Table)
Encouraging, endearing, or insane bits from our dinner conversations

Out of the Mouths of Babes
Short stories and quotes from the kiddos

Peeps on Parade
Photos or videos of the kids (makes the grandparents happy!)

Confessions of a non-Scholar
My (sometimes peculiar) observations from Scripture and personal applications

The un-Missionary Memoirs
Updates and encounters from the hood

Let me know what you think? I won't plan on blogging again until after our trip and naturally, I'll lead off with a steamy post recapping our romantic get-away. I know you're all dying for that!

Post your likes, dislikes, thoughts, or criticisms below and I'll see you all next week!!

Maybe It's Just Me

2009-02-09T11:15:00.002-05:00

Did you watch the Grammy's last night? Tim and I watched an hour or so of it before turning in. There were a lot of interesting performances; some really good, some well, just interesting.

But the one I want to comment on is the combination of the Jonas Brothers and Stevie Wonder. I praise God that I don't yet have a teenage daughter which gives me the complete freedom to mock and assault the Jonas Brothers without invoking tears from any family members. I've never been fond of them. Never. Maybe they are upstanding young men with great moral fortitude. That's nice. But I still don't really enjoy them as performers. First of all, I don't for the life of me know when super skinny jeans and scarf wearing, fluffy-headed, metro-sexual boys who, from the back, could be mistaken for anorexic girls, became the new ideal teen heart throb.

Oh, wait a minute. I have to admit that in my day we had some doozies. Poison, Bon Jovi, The Cure come to mind. I distinctly remember my dad saying, "Why are those boys wearing makeup?" Regardless, I just think the Jonas brothers are curiously effeminate given the mass of young girls swooning over them. But that's not even what bothered me about last night's show. I was hanging in there for the sake of the amazing and iconic Stevie Wonder. It was the moment that one of those Jonas boys called out from across the stage, "Come on, Stevie!" that I lost what little regard I had for them. It irritated me. Seriously. "Stevie?"

I appreciate the Grammy's efforts to bring together generations of musicians, however, I think that a bunch of mid-pubescent newcomers should have been required to address him as Mr. Wonder.

But...maybe it's just me. =)

Wouldn't it work better if...

2009-02-02T11:14:00.002-05:00

WARNING: The following post has no literary, spiritual, or educational value whatsoever! It is simply the ranting of a psychotic housewife.

Have you seen the Clorox 2 commercial where the guy in the Clorox van pulls up to a soccer field? He basically tells the kids --you're shirts are dingy, throw them into the wash and let's brighten them up.

The kids run over stripping off their jerseys and tossing them into the washing machine that is built into THE SIDE OF THE VAN (important to note the location). He holds up two detergent lids and says something about using your favorite laundry liquid and a capful of Clorox 2. He then proceeds to dump both of the detergents STRAIGHT down. So, I'm just thinking:

Wouldn't it work better if...he actually poured the Clorox into the washing machine? I have no doubt that his shoes are clean and bright but those soccer shirts -I don't think so.

I would love to see a nice spoof in which the soccer moms, having had their laundering skills insulted, rush the van, push it over in the street, and then stuff the little laundry dude into his own washing machine.

Oops

2009-01-28T13:05:00.005-05:00

It occurred to me that I completely blew by Bella's birthday without posting. Guess that's what happens when you have too many kids to keep up with. We did celebrate her second birthday on January 13th. Much to the chagrin of the older children, we decided that she didn't really care if we went out to a restaurant and that a cake and song were plenty at this age. Here are a few pic's and you can read more about her adoption story here and here.

Snow Bunnies

2009-01-22T09:10:00.004-05:00

I love this snowsuit from the back

- reminds me of A Christmas Story

Mamoune and Jayla

Big Snow = Big (fake) Smile

Happy MLK Day!

2009-01-19T15:44:00.002-05:00

Tim took the day off and we are having a black history movie marathon! Actually, the kids were getting stir crazy so they are on a two hour intermission to run off some energy.

Here's the line up:

Glory Road
Pride
Keep the Faith, Baby
Remember the Titans
Antwone Fisher (not for the kids)
Crash (also, not for the kids)

Basically, I tried to pick PG movies that paint a picture of life during the height of the Civil Rights movement; movies that highlight the power of reconciliation, equality, and the lives of those who endured injustice on many different levels. We have lots of discussion about how life would have been different for all of us just 30-40 years ago; how we wouldn't have been able to sit in the same restaurant together much less in the same home as a family (and friends -a couple of the neighborhood crew joined us.) And on the eve of the inauguration celebration, it's very moving to see how far we've come while still knowing how far we have to go.

I remember a time when I was very young that someone made this statement in front of me, regarding MLK Day, "Just another dead nigger." (you have no idea how painful and unnatural it is to write that.) Even as a child I felt personally injured by what I had heard. It stung my heart but I had neither the words nor the understanding to articulate why. I have both now. And I believe it was because the Holy Spirit in me knew the truth; that the Civil Rights Movement, the equality of all men, the just treatment of every person was not the brain child of Martin Luther King, Jr., or Adam Clayton Powell, or Malcolm X, or Abraham Lincoln for that matter. They were all just mere men whose faults can be easily pointed out and used to discredit their passions by those who desire to do so. It was, however; it is the heart of a humble carpenter who gave His life as the ransom for ALL people --and in Him there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female.

I could write a mini-series but I won't...

today.

Have a great night!

About Time

2009-01-15T15:38:00.002-05:00

For any one who vaguely remembers the little story that I started on the literary brain dump, well, I'm finally back at it. Two new posts are up and ready. Maybe someday soon we'll finally get these two characters married and loaded up with a bunch of kids or something fun like that. =)

Thanks for reading.

Sacrifice and Provision

2009-01-11T21:37:00.002-05:00

For about four years now, Tim has engaged in the practice of naming our year. Not the year that has just passed but the year to come; sort of declaring that this is what we think this year will be about for us. It's been so amazing to look back each time and see how the name he chose was in a sense prophetic. Let me give you some examples:

2006 was "The Year of the Faithful Witness." This was the year that Tim determined to faithfully share the gospel at the Spirit's prompting. He picked up random hitch hiker's, helped stranded motorists, and invited people into our home that made me, well, a little less than comfortable. It was also the year that I learned to trust my husband more and how to express concern without questioning God's direction.

2007 was "The Year of Radical Obedience." This was the year that we believe God called us to leave the country and serve as missionaries in Haiti. It was the year that we sold our house, got rid of our dog, and yard-saled away most of our belongings. It was also the year that the mission door closed, the adoption door re-opened, and we crammed six people into an 800 square foot barn for three months. Though we admittedly missed plenty of God's directions and were probably losers in a myriad of ways, we tried hard to obey. And He certainly held us to the "radical" part.

2008 was "The Year of No Regrets." We wanted to look back at this year and know that we hadn't missed any (at least the obvious) opportunities to serve God and others. It was our first full year living in the 'hood and the year that we began our summer season of Friday night hot dog parties for anyone in our community who would join us. It was the year that we "birthed" a new Sunday School class and found that God sent us just the people we needed to jump start our neighborhood ministry. And it was the year that slowly but surely and with the help of many friends, we started seeing kids from our area come to church every week. Again, we are not prideful or stupid enough to pretend that any year has been perfect but there aren't a lot of regrets for this past year in retrospect.

And so, that leads us to 2009. Oddly enough it was I who felt impressed to name this new year. But for several weeks I squelched it because I didn't really like the name God gave me. By now, I've looked back enough to know that He gives us these ideals and then actually holds us to it. So, I fought hard. And then He spoke it to me again through Tim and I knew it was time to submit. ugh. 2009 - "The Year of Ridiculous Sacrifice." See what I mean?

And sure enough, we are only 11 days into the year and so far, I've spent the better part of a week with an extra kid in the house to help out a single mom who works nights, attempted to befriend and counsel a teenage girl who's been kicked out of multiple homes, and shared the gospel with her boyfriend -an admitted gang member, who is also a drug user and has been in jail upward of four times. The most recent stint ending just two weeks ago. You guys know me, and I'm not about to lie or sugarcoat the facts. These "sacrifices" have been hard at best, and downright scary at worst. And I'm afraid we've only scratched the surface. BUT...and this is a BIG BUT...

this is where the provision comes in. And already in this short amount of time God has proven Himself faithful. One of our frustrations with the work we're doing in the neighborhood has been trying to provide transportation for all the kids who want to come to church with us. (yeah, it's a good problem but a problem just the same) We have such wonderful class mates who've gotten to know and love these children just like we have, who invest much time and energy into helping with this issue. But ultimately, we are out-numbered. There are at times more kids than seats available.

We felt very weighed down by the potential of having to tell any of "our" kids that they couldn't go to church because we didn't have a spot for them. This very weekend, as Tim did the job of making calls to try and scrounge up rides and was met with many obstacles (legitimate ones); we hit a wall emotionally. And we finally did what perhaps we should have done way back when- we prayed. We told God that we had kids who wanted to go to church and while we would continue to use families to help us build relationships into the lives of these children, when it came right down to it we just needed a way to get them there. This was on Saturday.

Sunday after church, I passed a friend of ours in the hall and he said, "Hey, tell Tim to give me a call when he has a chance." Okay. Didn't think much of it. This friend, however, happens to own a Suburban that we have on occasion borrowed to carry kiddos to church. We ate lunch and I passed the message on to Tim and added as a bit of a joke "what if he's gonna offer us his Suburban." We had already been looking on craigslist for mini-vans, passenger vans, limos, hearses, pretty much anything that could be crammed with younguns. Tim stopped right there and prayed a quick gosh, Lord that would be cool but whatever...kind of prayer. He called. Left a message.

When the guy called a short time later he basically said, "God told me that I'm supposed to give you our Suburban." I didn't hear him say it. I was in the living room and Tim was in the bedroom. But when I heard Tim's voice crack as he replied through tears, "Man, you have no idea how amazing your timing is." I knew. By the time he hung up the phone we were both sobbing. I don't know what caught me more; the reminder of how much God loves us or the reality that He loves these kids even more than we do.

And so, if this is to be The Year of Ridiculous Sacrifice, I have to ask myself-- how could I offer any less to such an amazing God?

More Pictures!

2009-01-11T15:13:00.005-05:00

The Many Phases of Waiting

brought to you by Isabella Sexton

Phase 1: Annoyance

Phase 2: Temporary Resolve

Phase 3: Boredom

Phase 4: Despair

Phase 5: Who can I kill?

And now...

The Many Phases of Happiness

brought to you by Justus Sexton

Phase 1: I'm pleasant.

Phase 2: I'm happy.

Phase 3: I'm very happy.

Phase 4: I crack myself up.

Phase 6: I'm so happy I can't control myself!

Pictures

2009-01-11T14:53:00.003-05:00

Okay, there have been lots of "kodak moments" the past couple of weeks and I've decided to dump 'em all on you at once and get it over with. Afterward, I'll try to get back to posting something of substance. =)

Where's WaldoBella?

Tim's birthday was on Jan. 5th. After dinner that night, he mused about not having a birthday cake. I decided to work with what I had and give him a special treat on the spur of the moment.

This was my first attempt: a small mountain of white chocolate morsels and a matchstick.

He was unimpressed.

I went for plan B. A snickers bar. He said it looked like poop with a candle stuck in it. And yet, however distasteful he found it to look...

He didn't even share one slice of it with me. shrug.

Milestones for Justus

2009-01-07T08:26:00.004-05:00

Over the Christmas/New Year Holiday, Justus accomplished many things:

Gained a new appreciation for gifts.

Came face to face with a ferocious beast. ;-)

Still managed to get plenty of naps.

Started eating solid foods.

First bite...not so sure.

Second bite...a pro!

It's A Wrap

2009-01-05T12:05:00.003-05:00

While this is officially my end of the year-stories and pictures from Christmas-summary of 2008 post; I MUST begin by saying on this 5th day of January 2009 ---

Happy Birthday Timothy!

I love you so much! You are my favorite person on the planet. Long hugs, slobbery kisses, and other mushy things that gross out our children (and blog readers) to you on your special day. "Special" meaning eight hours of work, five needy children, a disheveled wife, and lots of homework awaiting your return. woot! Don't worry, babe, we'll save up our partying for Ocean Isle!

Advertisement: Speaking of our second annual trip to Ocean Isle - we are now accepting offers for child care between February 13th and 16th. We have five lovely and well-behaved (oh, wait you've been reading this blog -drat) well, lovely anyway; children who will make a delightful temporary addition to any home. No reasonable offers will be refused. ;-)

Back to the 2008 wrap up. We had a wonderful trip to Atlanta to visit family. Tim and I managed to coerce the grandparents into a lunch date (for us not them) and I squeezed in a couple of shopping trips with my sister sans children which were a highlight of the trip. Overall though, I would have to say that one of our favorite moments came via Isaiah.

Tim's parents took the crew out to dinner at Ruby Tuesday's. My kids have never been ones to order from the children's menu. No. It's just not enough food. They have adult-sized appetites and so they want adult-sized food. I tried to sway them toward the mini-burgers that come four to a serving, thinking that would at least be easier to handle but Isaiah was having none of that. He wanted the big burger. And he got it. When they brought out the plates, Isaiah couldn't contain himself --"That's the biggest hamburger I've ever seen!!" he exclaimed.

The waitress was amused by his excitement and was telling another waitress about him when the visiting district manager overheard the conversation. "Let's show him a REALLY big burger!" she suggested. So, as we finished our meal and Izzy put away the last bites of his already big burger; out comes the waitresses with a platter just for him -the Colossal Burger.

I was already voicing my protest when she said, "Don't worry. It's on the house." Basically, they just wanted to see his face light up when he got a look at that burger and it did! He was in heaven. Naturally, I did not have my camera but we got a picture of him with his monster burger the next day at lunch.

So, to the waitresses and manager at the Ruby Tuesday's in Peachtree City, GA -you made the boy's night! Thank you!

One More Treat

2008-12-25T15:06:00.004-05:00

We think he's the smartest baby in the world. And no, it's not up for debate. ;-)

Christmas Wishes

2008-12-24T22:12:00.004-05:00

My gift to you is to finally update the header photo to include all of my kiddos. I know this was bugging some of you. ;-) Thank you so much for tracking with us through another year. We can't wait to see what 2009 will hold.

A Very Merry Christmas to all of you!

from the Sexton Crew

Lessons from the Little Ones

2008-12-18T15:35:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, I handed Bella her sippy cup. She made her way through the kitchen and stopped abruptly at the oven door. With a keen eye she sized up the small girl staring back at her. Then gripping her cup with both arms and turning her body slightly she said, "Mine. Mine! MINE!!" Apparently satisfied that the other curly haired girl was no real threat, she moseyed away. I shook my head and thought "What a silly girl standing there screaming selfishly at her own image." And then the Holy Spirit whispered into my conscience "oh yeah, she's the silly one." The Holy Spirit is very sarcastic when he speaks to me.

So, I was forced to evaluate myself. How many times have I, having been made in God's image (some days it's a more accurate reflection than others) clamped my hands (or heart) around some object or desire then stared up at Him saying, "Mine. Mine! MINE!!!"? Too often. Much too often. And even here in the season of giving, how many of us will cling to the things we somehow think we are entitled to: our family traditions, finding the perfect gift, the money that we could give to Lottie Moon OR we could buy another Santa sweater for Aunt Gertrude. Never mind that she has one for every year since 1982.

If God is the giver of every good and perfect gift, and He is; and if it all belongs to Him to begin with, and it does; and if we are supposed to be the reflection of His image, and we are...then maybe this Christmas we can relax our grip, open our hands (and hearts) and say, "Yours. Yours. Yours!"

Filler

2008-12-16T12:21:00.003-05:00

I decided that since I am having trouble with new literary creations I would offer you something old for me but maybe new to you. This is my own version of "The Night Before Christmas." It's been done a million different ways and I couldn't resist giving it the Sexton twist. Hope you enjoy it! (may not be suitable for children)

Twas the night before Christmas and the kids were all down,
A small dose of Benedryl would help them sleep sound.
And I in my “draws” and Ma in sexy lingerie
Were about to get busy by the old Christmas tree.

When out on the porch there arose such a racket,
I sprang to my feet and I threw on my jacket.
Away to the door I ran like no other
And opened to find standing there…my mother?!

“Merry Christmas” she said with a voice full of cheer.
My wife grabbed her robe quickly covering her rear.
Then marching in like a nightmarish parade,
Next my dad and my sister with a fruitcake –home made.

There were aunts and uncles and cousins galore.
They just kept on streaming right into the door.
My wife and I stood there in helpless dismay.
We were sure they weren’t coming until Christmas Day.

Soon the house was a-buzz, nearly bursting it’s seems
And our children were roused from their drug-induced dreams.
My wife gave a sigh and a sympathetic pat;
But I thought to myself, “I ain’t goin’ out like that!”

I knew what must be done to get over this slump.
There were pallets to make and air mattresses to pump.
I took off like a flash, whizzing by their heads
And before they knew it, all were snug in their beds;

Which stretched wall to wall, covering the floor.
And then right on cue, Grandpa started to snore.
I jumped into my shoes; took my wife by the hand;
Grabbed the keys to the car and out the front door we ran.

And I yelled through the window as we drove out of sight

"Merry Christmas to all, and a hotel room for the night!"

Disclaimer: Any resemblance to our actual family members is purely coincidental. To my knowledge, my sister-in-law does not make homemade fruit cakes. No offense intended toward anyone. Just meant for fun.

Mind Mush

2008-12-15T12:24:00.002-05:00

I feel like I spend as much time apologizing to all of you for my failure to blog as I spend actually blogging. It's becoming a habit. Slackerness, that is. But please understand, it isn't because I don't want to blog. I'm just dealing with inner turmoil over what to blog. I have all of these really heavy issues that seem to be plaguing me lately (well, more so than usual) -poverty, racial reconciliation, justice, etc. I start to write about any one of them and they become so big and so multi-faceted that I get overwhelmed and give up. I consider writing something light hearted and funny but the deep and overwhelming stuff keeps popping up in my brain. And for some inexplicable reason, the kids haven't even done anything goofy enough to write about. shrug. I got nothing!

So, here it is. A pathetic post to offer pathetic excuses for the lack of posts and to warn you that this pathetic streak may be far from over. You could say a prayer that I'll be able to collect my swarming thoughts and maybe even organize them into something of value.

Thanks!