white friday

The growing concept of "Black Friday" disgusts me. Before I explain, I should give a bit of background information.

About 5 years ago, our household budget was tight because we had our second child and Andy's job kept being cut back. I dove wholeheartedly into frugal mode. Super saving and frugality became my idol. I thrived upon getting things at extremely low prices or better---for free. I became heavily involved in the couponing world and stockpiling. We are -still- living off of the stockpile of nonperishables.

I hate that there are folks who cannot spend Thanksgiving with their loved ones because they have to work because of Black Friday. The only solace might be for folks who need cash might get overtime pay for working on a holiday. I hate that folks fore-go time with family for the sake of things! Maybe you are getting in line to save on a Christmas present for a child....if you do this every year I wonder if the child remembers the many great gifts (long after they are broken, outdated and gone) or will he remember that every Thanksgiving his grandma and mom were absent because they were camping out in line. If you, or grandma, or the child were gone tomorrow, would the good deal matter more than time with that person?

Do we really need the latest $99 kids toy or laptop deal or camera? Will the older version not do? I decided the Friday after Thanksgiving would be a "white Friday" for me. I loaded up the car with the products of my cleaning efforts and made trips to the dump, Goodwill and a used book store. (I must say I am disappointed that used books have practically no resell value. I took 3 boxes of books and they only wanted 10 of the books.)

Since I have been cooped up in the house as my youngest is recovering, I have decided to "clean out a few closets." Of course, whenever I clean out a closet I end up with a HUGE depressing mess. It looks like the closet threw up all over the room! I let tons of stuff go in the year after Andy died. Parts of the house could have been featured on a hoarder reality show. I want to be rid of the clutter but I dread the process of going through stuff.However, I can't just box it up and throw it all out. As I have been going through boxes and stuff, I have made some discoveries...

-a $20 bill
-a Swiss Army knife my dad gave my youngest when he was first born(I put it away for safe keeping and then couldn't find it for years.)
-Andy had TONS of gaming books
-coathangers multiply
-I have way too much junk!

currently listening to:
boys arguing and making up again

dinner: (last night)
beef stroganoff, glazed carrots, pumpkin ice cream w/ snickerdoodles --thanks, "Binty!"

currently reading:
the silver chair
the undistracted widow
miss minimalist
Isaiah

today grateful for:
my boys
God
sunshine
Goodwill
our home
provision from God

gifts and gratitude

a link to a great free app.....blessings

"Holy Communion, Batman!"

I have been sort of house bound for the last few days, as my youngest recovers from a surgical procedure. My youngest is energetic...to put it politely. During this recovery, my motherly task has been trying to keep him occupied as about every 30 minutes, he announces, "I'm bored"...and to keep him from busting his stitches wide open. Yesterday, he decided to use the inclined pillow, that has become our family "sick" trophy, as a ramp of sorts. He used it like a skateboarder might, except he has no board...he just runs up it and the leaps into the air.

Since I had to take some sick days in order to attend to my son, I thought I might get to catch up on my sleep. Ha, ha, ha...NOT! There has been something to break up my sleep every night, so far. Tonight, I have not been feeling well. After catching up on some book reading, I turned to catching up on my blog reading. A post, "I think I messed up with my kids" on the "The Worst Preacher's Wife Ever," was a great distraction and reminded me of a story of my oldest son's first communion experience.

It was a Sunday morning in December when my son was either 3 or 4 years old. The annual nativity story was being acted out at our church during the morning service. So all the children, including the youngest preschoolers were in attendance. As the actors moved into their places, I pointed out his friends' parents who were playing Mary and Joseph. When I pointed out the baby in the mother's arms, saying, "Look there's Grant's little brother," my son retorted, "Nu-uh, that's JESUS!"

After the performance, communion was being served. My son clasped his hands together and pleaded very loudly, "Please, please, please can I have some of the snack?" The missionary seated in front of us, turned, smiled and chuckled. In my feeble attempt to get him to lower his voice and sit down, I explained that this was not a snack, but communion. Further explaining that communion is something we do to remember how Jesus died for us. His expression turned to one of horror as he yelled out even louder than before, "Jesus died?!" It took me a second to realize he thought Grant's little brother---whom he firmly believed was Jesus, was now dead.

currently listening to:
silence

dinner: (last night)
casserole

currently reading:
the silver chair
the undistracted widow
Isaiah

today grateful for:
my boys
memories
medicine
technology & bloggers

the big one-O

Tomorrow my first born turns 10. The time seems to be flying by. I look back at pictures from when he was little and I try to remember those exact moments in time. We have so many incredible memories. Sometimes it feels like grief has stolen precious moments from us. Still, I treasure so many of the moments I enjoy with him...snuggling on the couch in the evening reading from one of the Chronicles of Narnia books(he always begs me not to stop-to read just a bit more)...watching him encourage and teach his brother...when he runs to show me his latest Lego creation...when he laughs out loud and tells me a funny part of one of his Diary of a Wimpy Kid or Big Nate books...when he says "I need to tell you something" and he as he approaches my ear, he kisses me on the cheek instead.

This week, besides his birthday, I was reminded he is growing up because we had our first in-depth installment of sex ed talks. With the Penn State scandal so prevalent in the news, we hear the word, "sex" at least a couple of times a day. So he asked about sex. I inquired trying to find out how much he knew. I found out a bit of misinformation he had heard from his peers and attempted to clarify with a bit of truth and God's Truth. As I gave him some basic anatomy information, he covered his ears (while still listening) and said, "This is so gross." I wonder how these talks go when given by a father?

My heart's desire is for him to grow up, be full of joy, know and live out God's plan for his life...but there is this tiny portion of my heart that wants to keep my little boy, alittle boy forever. When I was a kid, I thought if you sprayed lots of hairspray on a baby kitten or dog you could keep them little. I guess that is why we have scrapbooks.

currently listening to:
boys' AM banter

dinner: (last night)
bbq, slaw, mac and cheese (at kids bereavement mtg)

currently reading:
the voyage of the dawn treader
the undistracted widow
Lamentations

today grateful for:
my boys
memories