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Foul Mood Monday

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

I haven't told y'all a crazy Miss Vera story in a while.... Remember her?  My lady from the gym who thinks I wear see through pants?  She's also the one that told me she could see up my running skirt - because she said she looked  - and how she thinks I like people to look on up there and make their eyes  welcome in my privately skirted places.  To which I had just about HAD. IT. UP. TO. HERE. with that stuff, and had to report her to the official gym management,.... a.k.a, my strong yet sweet friend who spoke to her and told her she can't treat the instructors that way.  So she got mad and never came back to class (and/or my friend secretly threatened to break her knees if the harassment continued and she was forever banned from organized older adult activities.  We may never know.)

Well. We meet again, Miss Vera... this time in the hidden away bathroom up on the second floor where I found her painting her nails on the baby changing table.  So I greeted her politely... and she told me that I look different.  And I waited nervously to see what gory details she might add to that one, but she didn't.  She simply asked me if I still have that same husband.  

Yes, Miss Vera, I still have that same husband as far as I know, but I haven't checked in with him today to make sure.  She said she thought I might have a new one now.  Because apparently girls who wear see through pants to work tend to go through husbands fairly quickly where she comes from. 

And my alarm didn't go off this morning so we all over slept and woke to Foul Mood Monday.  Which lives right across the street from Foul Mouth Monday, just a hop skip and a jump away.   But luckily Fireman Dave got home on time and took the boys to school since we slept through the bus.  Reason #301 that I got married and try to hang onto my man, Miss Vera... for just those occasions when my kids miss the school bus and they're making me late for work. 

Y'all, I've been climbing a hill these last few days.  Maybe even devil's mountain.  I've worried about the kids getting too big to need me anymore which husband says will never be the case.  And I've been shown the truth that sometimes things just aren't as we want or expect.  Darn.  Darn it all.  

And here's the worst.  The I think weird thoughts a little bit each day award goes to  .... worrying far too much that the state of my abdominals may one day trespass across my bosom county line.  Or vice versa.  These are things I think about when I don't get enough sleep. 

And y'all, Foul Mood Monday followed right along behind Sad Sunday and I'm Mad at the World Saturday... And it's in those times exactly, that #1, I give thanks for my mid-life mood and memory supplement.  And #2, that I fall down on my knees and ask the amazing God of worried women to help me out a bit down here.  Which he typically does, but often times not on my schedule. 


So I'm thinking a lot about prayers right now.  Because I haven't been very good about that lately.  And I'm determined to get back on track there.  And I'm thinking about grace, which is doled out to me in bits and pieces each and every day if I just take time to look.  Grace often, lucky for me, shows itself in the glimpses of God's wonderful sense of humor that distract me from myself.  

Today?  I got a visit with Miss Vera to show me that there are those that are, indeed, crazier than me.  And I got a surprise look at a dancing teenager in his underwear that made me glad to be alive.  And glad that underwear is perfect for dancing in.  

And sometimes I just have to be thankful for the little reminders that it's all pretty okay... like homemade chocolate chip cookies when the world seems like it needs a little treat.

And that, my friends, is grace.    Big, yet small enough to be personal.  Quiet, but loud enough to yell, Look at me.  I'm a good thing

Grace is the gift of looking past ourselves when we can barely lift our eyes on our own.

Seriously, there's not an important thing on this list....

Thursday, April 23, 2015

First things first.... if this was a fashion blog,.....

I would #1 recommend to you that over a certain age, ladies, let's say 70 because I'm guessing that's how old the lady I saw today at the store had to have been who was my inspiration for this line of thought.  So fashion tip Thursday..... over a certain age, maybe we shouldn't wear a hot pink mini skirt with a leopard coat and a baseball cap that says SUPERMODEL. 

And while we're talking about it, you should just go ahead and clean out of your closet right now....right now.... anything with writing on the rear end.  Like bikini bottoms that say Enjoy the view. Or anything that says the word Baby.

Second category on the game show today... Random facts of my week for $20  


I took an inventory of the freezer and this is what I found.... a potato party.  How did this happen?  

So I went to the store and the lady at the grocery deli and I played a game of food choice charades  - all about which salad Kristi wants to buy.  Because it turns out that this particular store likes to hang onto their food dangerously longer than what the health department would normally allow.  And with her manager standing close, she was afraid to speak up with words to save my life as I tried to buy the week old potato salad.  However, since we gals stick together through thick or thin and especially in attempts to avoid food poisoning, we made a game out of it.  So I would point at something and she nodded no.  I pointed again and again with more no, don't eat that unless you want to die, head nods, and finally settled on a nice veggie pasta that was made fresh by this sweet lady today.  It was the only one she could vouch for.  And I think we are all in agreement that I should never shop at this store again.

Then I met and had the best visit with the parking lot attendant at a Rangers baseball game who loved my flowy white top.  Which was maybe unexpected attire for a baseball game, but so in touch with my inner Kristi that I just had to wear it along with some fancy shoes.  So she and I talked about my shirt and how we both love to shop at SteinMart for all things beautiful.  Then we talked about our kids and we were fast friends in about 4 minutes.

And yesterday it was like a voice from Heaven when husband invited me to go to the old town square in McKinney for some antique and ladies boutique shopping.  Which made me remember that we just watched the old Invasion of the Body Snatchers movie where the alien pod people suck out your life when you sleep and grow a new alien pod body that looks just like you.  I may have to check husband over a little closer later to make sure he's for real, but it got me a shopping trip and a good lunch no matter.   

And all was going well till we were half way there and in mid discussion I discovered that he didn't turn in kid 3's course selection sheet for his upcoming first year of middle school.  To which I may or may not have completely turned on him and temporarily become the scary she-devil that hides deep within me for when someone messes with my kids.

But some fresh air and a this adorable new hat later and all was forgiven and he felt safe to be in the car with me on the ride home......

And we stopped by to see our 4 month old baby niece and I got spit up on for the first time in a long time.  It was a good day. 

And finally, here's the temporary set up for my living room.... it has become our new teen party room/music studio as we added a drum set to our list of instruments.  And all the hard work I spent trying to decide if my buffet table should be black or white has all kinda' gone out the window because it's so darn loud in there that no one wants to stay for long anyway.  We're trying to come to an agreement we can all live with on allowable times of music sets and decibel level.  

And I wasn't at all going to mention this one... but a girl's gotta speak up for what's right....  I made what I thought was a sincere observation to someone the other day, but apparently what was heard was Here, take this nail gun and shoot it into your eye.  Because the response I got was not even close to appropriate or even bordering that particular continent.  

But I needed that reminder nonetheless... for several reasons.  Sometimes people are just quick to assume the worst and I find that sad in almost every case.  But I've done the very same thing more times than should be allowed.  Haven't we all?   

But I think an even bigger given than any other when misunderstandings happen is that sometimes words that are spoken are only as good as the willingness and ability of the receiver to listen and hear.  And that can really just change with the wind.  A lesson in reality. 

So that's it for now.... hope you've had a good week.  




Here is one of my all time fave clips from I love Lucy where little Ricky learns to play the drums.  So true.  
 

So here is a list of things, odd but true, that you may not know about me....

Wednesday, April 15, 2015


I've been reading a book by an author that I am now in love with, and maybe always have been but didn't know it.  Her name is Anne Lamott and she may be the wisest woman walking this earth.  And for a second I thought she might be my twin separated at birth, except that she's about a decade or 2 older than me.  But y'all, we are that much alike.  She has the same dark sense of humor, the same hopeful yet harsh edged look on life brought onto us by years of being put upon by, well, life.  She curses more than I do, granted.  And she's a little over the top political in nature and I'm really a level zero to none in that regard.... but in everything else we are basically the same person.  And the more reading of Anne's book that I do, I'm toying with the idea of us possibly even being Siamese twins formerly joined together at the brain, heart and fast talking mouth. 

Her book appears to be a collection of life stories - much like here on the blog.  Where each little story is really a day in the life of..... A day in the life of Kristi, I guess, though the title of the blog is really a tribute to my kids.  Because they are the best pieces of me that I could ever leave behind on this earth when I'm done.

And reading Anne's tell-all stories made me realize that I, too, tell all my stories here... but yet there are plenty of things I haven't told you about me.  And for my kids who will someday find this, read it, and possibly weep, this is for you.... to know me in an all new and different way than you knew me as mom.  Because I am, after all, deep and multifaceted.  Much like a diamond. 

So here is a list of things, odd but true, that you may not know about me....

1.  I am mostly, but not completely, vegetarian.  I think the modern term for someone like myself is selectarian, which offends the tried and true vegetarians of the world.  So in simple terms, I am not offended by meat or offended by your love of meat.  You go ahead and eat all you want.  I, however, just don't love it like most people do.  I would say that 8 out of 10 meals for me, sometimes more sometimes less, are a no meat experience.  Why?  I have no idea, but I've eaten this way most of my life.  And I just like most non-meaty things better.  But I am, at the same time, a firm believer that in the toughest times of life that a good hamburger and a chocolate malt go a long way toward improving my outlook on matters.

2.  Continuing on the topic of food and all things wonderful in that category... I believe the cinnamon pop tart to be the world's best ever food discovery.  Serve it warm, serve it cold, sneak in the kitchen in the middle of the night when you can't sleep and help yourself to a convenient foil wrapped treat.  You'll be doing yourself a favor.  

3.  I am freakishly allergic to a more than my fair share of things... some things I can't even identify.  Like that time at the Boy Scout pot luck where something made my face swell to the size of Texas.  And my lips, alone, were the state capital.  I can also trigger a migraine by walking through a mall or large department store full of clothes with chemical fabric dyes.  And y'all, I will run away from the perfume ladies at Neiman's like I'm being chased by a well dressed, fragrant zombie.

4.  I met my husband when we were tweens/teens.  Though the word tween didn't even exist then.  Very much like the word selectarian.  He was 11, I was 13.  And at the ripe old age of relationship experienced,  I am seriously beginning to doubt the strength of his young devotion to me as he has always claimed.  ......Cue the story of the waitress at the Waffle House that he admired enough to leave a substantial sized tip when he was a young adult, maybe hoping to buy himself more than a waffle, and I have doubts about my imprint on his young life. However, something worked as intended in God's crazy plan.... because after years of knowing each other and not being a couple, he is the one sitting on my couch in there watching a scary zombie show with our kids.  It's a funny and strange world when things like that happen, as well as when I use the word zombie twice in one post.

5. Once when I was a baby I had a fever of 107.  No kidding.  I was an infant, on a road trip through Arkansas with the family, and was frying like a fish right there in the backseat.  So the doctors packed my little body in ice and this is how I ended up.  I like to think about how I may have turned out had my brain not been altered by history that day long ago.  I could've been a genius.  However, I did manage to help Kid 1 with an algebraic dilemma of graphing totally useless number inequalities last  night....... and he thinks I am THE. BEST. MOM. EVER.   For now anyway.  Till I'm no use to him anymore and/or we run out of food.  Anyway, I even got a mumbled I love you, and that made me ever thankful that I listened in math class back in 8th grade.

6.  I was, as a child, once forced to play the role of Mrs. Noah in a church play and I forgot my words from stage fright.  However, I have matured and grown into my own skin and now blossom when given a headset microphone and front and center stage at work.   I also think I would make a great Las Vegas showgirl.  

7.  I have never smoked a cigarette in my life, ... or smoked anything for that matter.  My husband says I am a freak of nature and that I must have been locked in a dungeon.  Nevertheless, the only pollution in these lungs is from dirty Dallas air and paint fumes from various home improvement projects.  

8.  I sleep with the covers completely over my head with only a small hole open for my nose.  Because I am afraid of something touching me - mostly bugs.  

So that's the tell-all for today.  I couldn't bring myself to make it to a well rounded list of 10.  And of course, it's my own version and thoughts of me... yours may differ.   Please be kind if you comment.....

And I think we are who we are, no matter the color we paint ourselves... bright and sunny yellow? Dark and dismal gray?  But underneath it all is still a person - made in God's image and all that, but still a whole lot like a machine missing one or two very important parts.  And who we are can be seen more in how we are, than in what we say we are.  You may quote me on that.

I had the opportunity this week to witness feelings and words in action.  People defending what they believe is right and standing up against a perceived wrong.  And at the same time, the flip side of the story, ... where the battle lines were drawn?  The other side felt like they were doing the same.  It was interesting to watch. 

But I shared this with a friend during the week, ...You have handled yourself with polite grace that is a testament to both your character and your faith.  This week has been for us all, an opportunity to let our worst selves show.  But you have done a great job at keeping a thoughtful silence till the right words come.  How appreciated this is.

And I would like to think that someday, no matter how I choose to describe myself, that when all is said and done, people will have seen in me a person of character, faith, and strength.  A person that had a story to tell on every page of my life.


If you would like to follow along, good news!  You can... Follow on Bloglovin to get every post sent directly to your email box.  You can even do it anonymously..... and I'm okay with that as long as you're not a crazy stalker or in any other way scary. 

Because Mom was making him go to church to feel sadness about Easter

Sunday, April 5, 2015

Thursday night I dragged the kids with me to our church's Maundy Thursday service.  Which is kinda' like Good Friday, but on the night before, and really depressing.  Which it's meant to be.  

Maundy Thursday.  Maundy meaning covenant - or new covenant - which Jesus told the disciples about that last night as they ate together.  He tells them that things will soon change, that one of them will do a very bad thing and do it three times, and that he will be leaving.  Then they all head to the garden to pray, but the disciples fall asleep  - and the events of the evening take a violent turn toward the cross.  Which by then is in the early hours of Friday, Good Friday....

The Maundy Thursday service is a service of darkness, to set the stage for the darkness to come as well as the darkness of that night.  And it's a service of silence to respect the events that happened and give ourselves time to actually be still and think. 

But kids 1 and 2 didn't want to and they talked a lot.  Which made me squeeze kid 1's arm several times and then let out a giant loud snap of the fingers to get their attention.  To which kid 1 says that my snapping was much louder and more of a distraction to the world than their talking.  The wisdom of a 14 year old. 

And kid 3 was mad because as we were getting dressed for church a friend came by and asked him if he would like to go see a movie.  Of course a brand new movie that every friend on the planet was going to see - except for him - because Mom was making him go to church to feel sadness about Easter. 

Which really sounds bad when I say it like that.  Because now that I think about it, I'm not sure my kids are ready to walk through the darkness of the events of Jesus' last moments, any deeper than a basic knowledge anyway.  I didn't when I was a kid.  I didn't till very recently when I needed to understand a little deeper about what Easter really means.  Because we all know by this stage in life, that in any regard, we can't fully appreciate the goodness of the light till we've seen what the dark has to offer.  Am I right?

And growing up, Easter was new dresses and shoes and a giant meal and Easter egg hunts with my cousins.  And I understood that it always happened on Sunday.  And I knew it was about Jesus from the Sunday School hour through big church time, but that's about it. 

And after Thursday night I'm a little confused about what I want my kids to understand right now.  I want them to look forward to the traditions of worship -  to plant the seeds of worship in them.  I want to take their picture outside the church with the flower covered cross.  I want them to wear their best, and feel the joy of being surrounded by people excited to declare that He is risen.  I want them to see that every seat is filled with people ready to praise the risen Christ.  

Maybe the goodness of Easter is plenty for now.  Life will surely introduce the rest. 


post script.... 

The Maundy Thursday service continued on a dark and downward turn for me and kid 3.  Who was still mad about not seeing a movie with friends and instead being made to sit in a dark sanctuary and listen to dramatic readings.  So afterwards he threw a fit large enough for me to point the car toward husband's fire station and put him out on the the driveway.  With strict instructions to find his father and that I would be back when I no longer want to bang my head on a wall.   And it worked because absence makes the heart grow fonder.  Even an absence of 20 minutes where we can all regroup and fall in love again.  It's a good thing.  

And Easter was a fire station shift for husband, so we had our fun the day before as we often do on fire department schedule.  And for the second year in a row, candy in eggs wasn't a large enough draw to make big kids hunt around a public park for them.... but cash was.  And we had to shoo away several little kids who found delight in hunting down our cash filled eggs as fast as we could hide them....because y'all, money talks.  And each kid is now $15 richer for the experience of making mama happy for another year.  I told husband that if the boys are ever cash poor as adults, they'll probably come home and ask me if they can go on an Easter egg hunt like old times.   

And the boys and I made it to the 11:00 worship where we saw daddy on the fire engine responding to an elderly woman in distress at our church on this Lord's day.  So we were kinda' together after all, for a bit.   

He is Risen.  He is Risen, indeed.      
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