Confessions of a Snob. Yes, Really.

I loathe pretentiousness. I loathe it. 

It is an inexcusable quality in a person to over state one's own importance. I mean, I know we've all got pride issues, but for whatever reason, this one just gets me boiling.

Then, there's Pretentious's cousin, Snobby. Snobby is always ugly and reeks. 

And, that's me. 

Not about everything. Not about most things, I think. 

But, I confess it. I'm a Beach Snob. I've written about it before and evidently, I have not turned from my whiney ways. 

So, we were in that Gulf Coast season of Sprimmer. Still cool in the mornings and evenings, but warm enough during the day to get excited for the beach.

So, a couple of weeks ago, we decided to load up and give it another go on the Texas Gulf Coast. I can't tell you how many times we have heard, "Oh, y'all are from Florida? Don't go to Galveston." 

But, I'm desperate and stubborn. Stiff-necked, if you wanna go Old Testament. 

I was so hopeful! So excited! 

Until we drove up. Then I was a snob again. But, I'm a nice person, okay!? 

I love Jesus and people and cheering people on and I'm hospitable and welcoming. 

And, I'm sorry. I really am. This is not a sorry not sorry deal. 

I'm embarrassed that I had to fight back real, actual tears of sheer disappointment over it in front of my friends.

Now, I need to qualify this experience and say it was a super windy, chilly day. The sun I was hoping to get was overtaken by the need to wrap up in a towel. None of this is Surfside's fault. :) Spouse, Big Sister, and our friend all had a great time attempting to surf, despite the frigid water and choppy water. I was content to be discontent in the littered, caramel sand looking at the murky water, freezing. I will say, though, it was hilarious. We were giggling about the absurdity of our surroundings and my attitude. I knew it was bad enough to warrant being made fun of even then. Ridiculous.

I don't know how they did it. That water was about 64°.

I was really making a concerted effort to find all the positives in the situation, so I made the decision then to respond to any questions about our beach day with, "I really enjoyed hanging out with our friends!" That's good, right?

Not really. My people are smart, they would keep pressing about it and before I knew it words like "Ugh...brown sand...gross water...junk all in the sand...never again" were falling out of my mouth. 

I mean free falling. 

Just. like. that. I sound like a snob.

But, you know- being me and all- I was not going down like that. 

"Never again" lasted all of six days. I kid you not, the very next weekend I suggested we go right back. Cause Surfside and I WILL, at the very least, be courteous to one another.  We don't have to have share recipes and have a secret hand shake, but we will be polite, daggumit. 

I've seen the Instagrams. I know there are nice places!

Off we went. This time, we took Maverick.

I mean. Really.

There was a bit more sunshine and not as much wind. Yay! That water was, of course, still freezing, so I didn't get in it. The Little Sister and the Pup took a little nap. That was cute.

Spouse even got a little ride or seven.
Of course, the better the wave was, the less prepared I was to catch the shot.

Someone made the comment "poor Maverick's first trip to the beach is here", but he didn't seem to mind it a bit.

For the record, it wasn't me. One of the girls, I can't remember. 

Seriously, though, he was loving it.

Really.

That right there is an adorable view.

Exhausted.

We weren't down there for too long, but it was a win. I got a little bit of sunshine and I didn't once want to cry. 

It may take a bit before Galveston and I are far enough along in our relationship for a weekend getaway, but I can say that I would meet up for lunch again sometime. :) 

I think I'll bring a rake next time. Evidently, the seaweed has gotten to the point it would make a good Alfred Hitchcock movie. 

Alright. Go on. Chastise me, if you need to. 

OR, go ahead and confess your snobby bone.

This Is Not My Little Pony's World

{Source}

Bullying is never okay. Never. Ever. Let's get that straight from the get-go.

Here's the topic of today's discussion:

Little 9 year-old Grayson takes a liking to My Little Pony and carries a MLP lunchbox to school. Then,  as expected (not saying right, just expected), he was picked on and bullied.
So, school officials saw the lunchbox as a distraction and asked him to discontinue using that lunchbox at school.
There are so many layers here.
I'm sure my southern, no-nonsense upbringing is rearing its head.

Mom is spot-on for backing her son. There are times when you just need to take things to a-whole-nother level just to show your kids you are on their team. In a few years, when he's fourteen and sure his momma is out to make his life miserable, she'll have this little episode in her back pocket to pull out. "'Member that time..."
Mom is also 100% correct in saying that it is "flawed logic" to say that "saying the lunchbox is a trigger for bullying is like saying a short skirt is a trigger for rape." Absolutely.

At the end of the day, I don't care if the boy wore a dadgum princess shirt to school, that doesn't give any one the right to put their hands on him. Ever.
Please, for the love of Tonka Trucks, let's not test this.

I can't completely blame administration, though. I don't know what steps the school administration had previously taken to curtail the bullying prior to asking Grayson not to bring the lunchbox to school. I would imagine the teachers and faculty really were looking out for his best interest. Let's just make this easy on everyone and skip the lunchbox. The teachers I know would have offered to buy him a new one to make his life less miserable! These are [likely] not mean-spirited people. Most teachers I know are just trying to go to work, make a living doing something they love and help raise up world-changers as best they can. I'm sure they never saw this hullabaloo coming. Still, he should not be punished for his lunchbox. Bullying should be dealt with to the fullest extent. Period.

Like I said, I don't know what steps the school administration took, but I'd like to know what was really the "distraction" here? The lunchbox or the bullying?

That said--I have two girls. No boys. Although, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have allowed my 9 year-old to take the lunchbox to school. I may have [theoretically] even used some very old school, non PC phrases to make my point about MLP being primarily for girls. I can't say for sure, but I feel like I would have nipped this jazz before it went this far. I can say for sure that Spouse would. I can't believe Mom didn't see this coming. This is on the tails of another North Carolina boy's attempted suicide for being bullied for almost the same thing! 

When Big Sister was headed to second grade, Nana got her a really cool pencil box that had a light-up star on it. Although her teacher requested a pencil box on the supply list, I knew that a light-up pencil box in second grade could be a distraction for little girls. She was in no danger of being bullied over this box, but I know how simple things become a distraction in elementary school. I made it clear to Big Sister that the box can't cause any problems and then her teacher said it was fine with her until it caused a problem. *Grin* It was never not fine. The pencil box survived second grade. The point is, as parents, we need to have the forethought that our kids won't have. Understand that it's not always about triggering bullies, it's about triggering distractions.
This was not the Sister's classroom. She needed to respect it as her teacher's classroom and her teacher doesn't need any distractions.
The school is not My Little Pony's World, nor is the real world, and kids need to know that.
Not everybody learns to be friendly at the end of the story.

Another story. One of my favorite man-children (he'll be fifteen in a few days) was into a lot of pink when he was a wee one. He liked the pink Teletubbie, the Pink Power Ranger, and had a pink GameBoy. He was about 4. It drove his daddy nuts. But, they let him do it and it was good parenting. Because they knew [hoped] he'd outgrow it. (Right, wrong, or indifferent, that's what we were all going for at the time.) He did and he's very masculine today. However, I know that I know that I know, that at 9 years-old, scar this child as it may, that he would NOT have taken a pink Teletubbie lunchbox to school! Again, I call that good parenting. Now, at fifteen, this kid could rock a pink anything. Cause Real Men Wear Pink, right? Incidentally, we inherited the Pink GameBoy later on. :)

Now, I have discussed Grayson's story with my girls. I am not, as I said, advocating bullying by any stretch of the imagination. The discussion with my girls was about loving people, period.

I do, however, think that this whole thing could have been avoided at the kitchen table at home. This comes down to parental discernment. And, I don't know, maybe it's a hill worth dying on for this mom.

Let's hear it. What do y'all think?

To Be Known

One of the cool things about moving to a new place, is you get to meet so many new people. It's awesome to get to know people and hear their stories. And, it's fun to tell your story. There are many ways and angles in which to tell your story, too, depending on your audience, right? In our case, we may talk more about church or homeschooling, or we may talk about Spouse's job and all the Lord has done with that. We may include family background, our marriage stuff, ministries we've been a part of and get to hear the same from others. It's fun and exciting to find the common thread(s) between believers.

On the flip side, one of the less than cool things about moving to a new place, is you meet so many new people. You are constantly having to get to know new people and learn their stories. It's like we are all giving our resumes over and over. It may be your church ministry resume (student, college ministry), homeschool resume (The standard, "I loved our school, but we knew this was what the Lord wanted for our family."), the family resume (we love having people in our home, yadda yadda). In some ways, it feels like we have been doing this over and over for the past year and a half. 

It is what it is. It's part of moving. We knew it.
The Super Sanguine here welcomed it.

Until I was over it. After a while, I got tired of my own stories. Those that know me IRL just chuckled. No. I rarely tire of telling stories. I just mean I am tired of telling the same stories! 

I just want to be known. I don't mean in a Fifteen Minutes of Fame kind of way. I don't mean any kind of fame. I'm talking have my people who know what I'm about. You know, the hometown kind of known.
*Singing* Sometimes you wanna go, where everybody knows your name...*

{Image Credit: Cheers}

And, then. I am known more than that. The number of hairs on my head is known. The number of hairs  that are in the drain for my Spouse to clean out is known. The number of pounds I have gained is known. The number of minutes that number takes up in my head on any given day is known, too. The number of cells in my body is known, including the rogue ones. The work that I was sent here to do is known by the One who sent me here to do it.
All of it. Known to a known God.

You have searched me, Lord,

   and you know me.

² 

You know when I sit and when I rise;

    you perceive my thoughts from afar.

³ 

You discern my going out and my lying down;

    you are familiar with all my ways.

⁴ 

Before a word is on my tongue

    you, Lord, know it completely.

⁵ 

You hem me in behind and before,

    and you lay your hand upon me.

⁶ 

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,

    too lofty for me to attain.

Psalm 139:1-6

The girls and I have been memorizing Psalm 139 this year. We are way behind schedule, but I can't tell you how many times I've come back to it. There is so much goodness in this Psalm, but let's go with verse 1, "...you know me...my thoughts...my going out...a word on my tongue...". 

The God who created you knows you. He knows me.

That same God has given me a precious few who know me, too. They get me. I don't take for granted when new people come into my crazy and walk along side me in it. There are a few in particular here in H that have been total rockstars in how they have loved and spoken truth over me.

Tonight, at a women's Bible Study, I met someone new. We had each been told we needed to meet. So cute, right?! This sweet homeschooling family just moved here from Florida. My other friend, Christa, the new friend and I were all chatting about being the new girls at one time or another and giving our resumes and talking Jesus. 

You know the scene: three women in a parking lot after Bible Study. 

I was talking some sort of shenanigans when my Jesus who knows me gave me the sweetest of gift: Christa interjects in my story and explains to our knew friend, very cheeky, "Melissa has a hard time expressing herself..."

GAH!

Boom. Known.

I need to quit looking to be known and act like one who is known.

Touchdowns & Kisses

Floyd Casey Stadium. Photo credit: My Spouse!

Spouse and I recently learned of a Texas A&M football tradition that is way better than any drinking game you can learn on any number of typical college campuses.

Last weekend, we went to the Baylor University homecoming game with some of our closest, sweetest friends. Joe is a Baylor alumnus, so we all decided to meet up in Waco for the weekend's festivities. Baylor had scored maybe their second touchdown when Joe let us know their football tradition that they had carried on from our other friends and former pastor & wife, Michael & Liliana.

Evidently, Michael & Liliana kiss each time their team scores at a football game.
We adopted this little tradition faster than you can say, "Gig Em!".

<<I realize in Bear Country, they say "Sic Em Bears!" and I did. Happily. But, I learned that this sweet little kissy tradition came from Aggie Nation. My friends lived in Austin for several years, and apparently caught this vision and brought it to Plant City, Florida! I love it. The point is the "game", not the origin.

So, "Whoop!" or "Gig Em!" or "Sic Em" Whichever! This is a great Tex-tradition! >>

This sweet couple just took a cool college tradition and turned it into a marriage game.

Husbands & Wives, this is brilliant on so many levels.

It's fun. Football games & sporting events in general are fun. Little traditions like this just add to it. Marriage is not a burden to us, my Spouse is not a burden. We enjoy being together and an appropriate little smooch just expresses it. Listen. You can High-Five anybody, even strangers on the row behind you, but kissing at every 'score' (See what I did there?) takes that celebration to a whole 'nother level with your spouse! (That last prepositional phrase is there for a reason, Kids.) (I have a lot of younger readers.) (I'm not saying all kisses have to happen within marriage, but it wouldn't hurt.)

It's unifying. I hope that's a real word. There's not red squiggly underneath it, so I'm going with it. During that whole game, Debra and I were chatting away and solving all the world's problems. But, when Baylor scored, we turned and kissed our husbands! Heyyyy! It was just a little trigger to bring our attention back to our men for just a brief second. Don't you know they loved that junk!?

It edifies marriage. Our culture is not pro marriage. As Christians, we have to be counter-cultural in every way we can, and this accomplishes that in a non-confrontational way. As much as depends on you, be pro marriage! (You do not have to be married to be pro marriage.)

It's a good example. My kids watch our marriage intently. If we've done nothing else right, these girls see that their parents are into each other. Being affectionate (appropriately) in front of the kids is healthy. Then, lock the door.

It honors God. I just have to believe that God is thrilled every time Michael & Liliana share a little marital moment at football games. He designed marriage. He created us for physical intimacy and He created us to enjoy life. When all these things come together, the Lord smiles. I just know it.

Incidentally, the final score was 71-7, Baylor. That's a good start to this newly adopted tradition.

Do you have any fun little traditions like this?

Climb to the 'summit' of Enchanted Rock? Kissies!

PS- Listen. I'm pretty sure I just made up that every time a husband and wife share a kiss, a pegasus gets its wings. Do you really want to be responsible for wingless pegasi (also made up) running around?

Straight Talk About The Talk- Part 1

Today, I had the opportunity to speak to a group of parents at my church about talking to their kids about their sexual purity. Naturally, it led to the updating and reposting of this blog from last summer. In true Melissa fashion, I added a lot, leading me to break it up into installments. It looks like there will be 4. Unless I add more. :)

In the least self-promoting way, because I believe in the message, I hope these become the most shared posts of all the Spouseisms posts.
Preparing our kids for a fulfilling, monogamous marriage is the ultimate Spouseism. :)

______________________________________________________________

Parents, Pre-Parents, Educators,

Let's talk about sex. :) (My blog hits just went from 5 to 10 just like that!)

It's time for a little straight talk about The Talk. 

It has to be done. And, as the 'Rents, you are the ones to do it. This business of expecting the I promise, there is no need to worry yourself to the point of hives, nor is there cause to bury your head in the proverbial sand! You can do this! There is, however, cause for you to take seriously the need to talk early and talk often with your kids about sex and the importance of saving all sexual activity until marriage.

Talk to God - Pray. Pray for your child's purity. Pray for what your child is exposed to outside of your presence. Pray that those you entrust with your kids would protect them from exposure to harmful media images. Pray that he would be blind to images that are preying on him. Pray for your child to see herself the way God sees her, a precious gift, purposed in this world to change the world. Pray for your child's future spouse. A really smart momma told me that she always prayed that her children's hearts would be asleep until God had the person to wake it up. Is that precious?!
Pray for these things with your child/teen. 

Bonus: It changes your relationship. Really. They see into your heart and truly believe that you don't want what's good for them, you want what God has for them.

Talk Early - With the Littles, use correct anatomical terms. Penis and vagina are not dirty words. Honestly, it's cute to hear a toddler say vagina. Mine said "sagina" and it was the best! You need to be comfortable saying these words and so do your children.
I explained it to my girls this way: pee-pee/penis or pee-pee/vagina are similar to sofa and couch. They mean the same thing. I gave several examples: chair/recliner, bike/bicycle...you get the idea. Children are not squeamish about saying a word like 'vagina' until they learn to be. Really, it's not a big deal--head, shoulders, knees, toes, penis. It's all about learning their 2000 'fearfully and wonderfully made' parts!

Talk Often - Talking about sex with your child is not a one-time deal. Use teachable moments. Media gives us plenty! Here's the deal, your kids WILL get a sex education. They can get it from NBC, government school, a Kardashian (Lord forbid it), the cool cousin, church, or YOU. I can not say this to enough Mommas: The first person to talk to your child about sex is the expert--Be the expert! 

I'm not saying oversaturate your kid with inappropriate sexual conversation, I'm just saying don't let the moments pass you by and don't wait for some special dinner. Just be casual. Never let 'em see you sweat.
You end up repeating some things and that's okay. Each time, new areas of conversation will come up. And, more details will come up. Don't wait for them to ask questions. By the time the questions come, they've been brewing. Stay ahead of 'em if you can.

I'd love to hear your stories and ideas. Let's help each other out here!
Do you use correct anatomical words in your house? Is this a subject area that causes you angst?

Upcoming Installments: Talk Privacy, Purity, Marriage, Goals, Consequences, Media. :)

Good Work: Under Construction!

He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete 

it until the day of Christ Jesus. Philippians 1:6

Fact: He started it, but He's not done. :)
(Tell me you read that in Dwight Shrute's voice.)

This week is sort of an anniversary for me. Eight years since I had this little "cancer episode".

The BackStory: 
In Spring of 2005, it was discovered that I had a nodule on my thyroid gland. By the Lord's direction, we tested and tested and two surgeries later my thyroid gland was removed, along with the cancer that was growing on it. With some RAI (radioactive iodine) treatment and whole lot of prayers, the cancer was gone and I was free to go about my life with a Spouse, a four-year old, and a two-year old.

That was the year of the cancer, but also the year of the headache. And, I mean THE headache. All year. 11 months of one solid headache. I remember walking around the outlet mall one day with my praying, cooking, and cleaning friends and I said, "Hey, Y'all. Stop. I think my head isn't hurting!" I had to focus for a second because I wanted to be sure!

Let me tell you something, that was not an awesome time. But, it was. I got a front row seat to the show called "The Body of Christ Takes Care of Its Own". My people prayed incessantly and specifically. The headache was keeping me from sleeping, so my friends, Kay & Stephanie, called one another and prayed for me one night over the phone without my knowing. I slept. Jesus. My people showed up.  Spouse and my very best sister friend on this planet were the first faces I remember when I woke up from both surgeries. Meals came floating in to my house for three solid months. I sometimes watched as my laundry was folded, floors vacuumed, and dishes were put away. It was so weird, but I was grateful. And, when I was feeling good, they just showed up. I was going to be recovering on Easter, so my friends came for an Easter Egg Hunt at my house on a Thursday. A sweet young couple who had gone through a great deal of medical bills in the past dropped off $400. No joke. Young couple with two young boys at home. Not wealthy grandparent-types, either. Amazing. Only God compels that kind of sacrifice for your sister. My girls' birthdays were made great. A week after one of the surgeries, I tied a little scarf on and we had dinner with Cinderella & Prince Charming at Disney. Magical. It was something not easily forgotten when your people show up for you that way.

As far as the treatment, it wasn't much more than a little drama, really, and I was never scared. February to May and it was over. Surgeries were not great, but it wasn't terrible. The worst part was the radiation. I took a Radioactive Iodine pill that resulted in 5 days of isolation from everybody. I mean everyone. The nurses only came in my room once a day, wearing a lead vest and pointing a Geiger counter at me. Seriously. It was crazy. I was crazy. I had taken my trusty Beth Moore Bible Study materials with me, declaring it was going to be "Me, Beth, and Jesus." Whatever. I think I did one day of my Fruit of the Spirit Study. I was stir crazy. SANGUINE girl was alone. Isolated. Not really feeling well. I could see a Target outside my room window. Sigh. And, it was the weekend of the Runaway Bride from Georgia. Y'all remember her!? Lord, I'm sorry I didn't do my study, but I was nothing less than obsessed with that bride. She was the cutest thing. I did eventually complete all my homework. :)

Honestly, though, it was all pretty quick. I consider myself and my family on the receiving end of the gifts of early detection and a good life.

Gifts given by the One who gives perfect gifts for His own name's sake. Jesus.

The NowStory:
Follow up treatment includes taking a synthetic thyroid hormone every day and getting my TSH checked every 90 days. My TSH had been pretty stable for several years, but in November and every test since then my Thyroid has been off in one way or another. And, I have felt it. Suffice it to say I was livin' in a fog: there was not enough sleep to be had, inability to make a decision (me. no opinion. that's all.), just foggy. I'll not even mention the rest of the physical stuff, but to say there has been some physical stuff. Evidently, moving can be a major life stressor that can discombobulate your endocrine system. Yay. That's what I need. Discombobulation.

Then, about 2 weeks ago, my doc changed my Synthroid dosage. It was actually a little too high and as of 4 or 5 days ago, I am feeling brand new! Puh-raise the Lord! Seriously! I can make decisions all by myself! I have gone a good week without crying! *Happy Zumba Dance here.*

<<<<Note: I have mentioned before that silence on the part of this blogger is typically not a good sign. It's been a month since the last post, but I noticed today that I have 5 drafts. Fog brain couldn't even finish a post. Well, I'm over it. Brace yourselves. <--- That may be a little unnecessary hype, but I'm excited! >>>>

Also, since my doctors had different ideas about body scans and whatnot, I haven't had one since May 2005 (Hush. I know.)---well, now it's time. This week I begin to prepare for the scan on Friday. I will have an appointment of some sort each day of the week and stop taking the Synthroid. I am getting an injection called Thyrogen that allowed me to stay on the Synthroid longer and avoid the Low Iodine Diet (Which I unknowingly did for 4 days. Boo.) I've already had an ultrasound, which showed no thyroid tissue and I am not concerned in the least about this scan. Not a bit. Jesus peace.
My biggest concern was feeling better and I am. Now, I don't know how I will feel after 5 days off the medicine, but it sure is a lot better than the original 3 weeks off the medicine. :)

Here's the schedule, cause apparently, I can make decisions but have no boundaries:
Monday, Tuesday: Thyrogen injections. Wednesday: Radioactive Iodine pill (Not as high of a dosage as last time, so no isolation.) Thursday: Blood draw. Friday: Scan.

So, here I sit in a little camper while my family sleeps giving you, my five faithful readers, the longest status update in the history of Facebook. (I say "five" because I learned my friend Ricky reads. I used to say "four".) Those of you who get upset about mundane FB posts may never read my blog again! Ha! I am tempted to comment how boring this is must be for you, but I won't.
The God of the Universe began a work- a good work- and His work is never boring. With Jesus, it's a ride!

Thank y'all for being so patient with me and coming back to this little space on the interwebs.
I love it and I love you.
It is the coolest thing to me that you read this jazz.