Archive for June, 2008

  • Menu for June 30-July 6, 2008

    0

    Like the Weekly Menus?
    You can subscribe to them by RSS or by e-mail!

    Here’s what we’re eating this week:

    Monday
    Dinner: Tacos w/refried beans, guacamole, salsa, fresh cilantro; side of rice

    Tuesday
    Breakfast: Hot cereal with fresh berries
    Lunch: Tacos; side of rice
    Dinner: Arugula salad; baked sweet potato fries

    Wednesday
    Breakfast: Hot cereal with fresh berries
    Lunch: Arugula salad; baked sweet potato fries
    Dinner: Eggs w/garlic, roasted red peppers, spinach; bagels; fruit smoothie for dessert

    Thursday
    Breakfast: Hot cereal w/fresh berries
    Lunch: ALTs; chips and salsa; salad
    Dinner: Rice and beans; stir-fried spinach and kale w/hazelnuts

    Friday
    Breakfast: Hot cereal w/fresh berries and a fruit smoothie
    Lunch: Rice and beans; stir-fried spinach and kale w/hazelnuts
    Dinner: @Rob’s?

    Saturday
    Breakfast: Hot cereal w/fresh berries and a fruit smoothie
    Lunch: ALTs; chips and salsa, salad
    Dinner: Beet greens and honey walnuts;

    Sunday
    Breakfast: Hot cereal w/fresh berries and a fruit smoothie
    Lunch: Beet greens and honey walnuts;
    Dinner: Peanut butter sandwiches; salad

    I need something to go along with Thursday’s lunch and Friday’s dinner. Suggestions?

    Want more? Check out the Weekly Menus archive.

  • Lifestyle Changes

    0

    Josh and I have decided to try and make July a “buy nothing” month. Okay, so “nothing” is a little drastic sounding. Perhaps saying that we’re going to try and make July a “crap-buying-free” month would be more accurate. In an effort to save some money and stay within our newly tightened budget, we’re going to forgo our semi-frequent trips to the local coffee shops, our far-too-often trip to the local deli, and our simply out of control chocolate binges (okay, that last one is all mine).

    During July, Josh and I are also going to overhaul our eating habits. Generally speaking, we eat pretty well. We love fresh veggies and whole grains. We eat mainly organic foods and little processed crap. That being said, I, personally am addicted to sugar (see comment on chocolate binges in previous paragraph), and I would like not to be. Quite a few months ago, Josh met with a woman who is well-known for her knowledge on homeopathy and the like. She suggested he overhaul his diet and also ordered some homeopathic medicines for him. I, unfortunately, haven’t gotten to meet with her yet. My plan was to wait until Jude was done nursing, but by the looks of things, we will have moved out of the area long before he weans himself. Anyway, Josh and I are going to be cutting out white flour, sugar, caffeine, and alcohol for the next month or so. Oh, and we’re going to revamp our vegetarian efforts. Wish us luck. I know that giving up sugar is going to be the hardest part for me. We’ve almost cut white flour out of our diets entirely already, we don’t drink often as it stands now, and coffee? Well… giving up coffee might post a bit of a problem, but I think in the end we’ll both feel better.

    I’m really excited to be doing all of this. I want Jude to grow up eating a healthy, whole foods diet, and for that to happen, Josh and I need to be doing the same. I’ll be posting this week’s menu later today in case anyone is interested in what we’re going to be eating. Oh, and I also have some pictures from this weekend that I’ll be posting later, so come back and check out the super cuteness that is my son!

  • Crossover Blog #2:Discipline

    0

    This week, the Naked Redhead and I will be discussing disciplining children. I promised her I would be nicer this week, so I’ll try and keep the snark to a minimum.

    I want to preface this post by saying that I’m probably more of a newbie when it comes to discipline than Red is. I never babysat, and Jude is only 13 months old. All of my views on discipline stem from a couple of key factors:

    1. I believe that despite their small stature, children are people, too. They deserve just as much respect as their full-sized counterparts.
    2. I want my child to be an independent and free-thinker.

    So, where to begin?

    The root of the word “discipline” is “disciple,” and the meaning of “disciple” is to teach. So, when I think about how I’m going to discipline Jude, what I’m really thinking about is how I can best teach him about making good choices. When we love our children and form strong attachments with them, they will want to please us, their caregivers. Any misbehavior on their part is simply a mis-step, not a willful act of disobedience. When little ones act out, it is often because they are overtired or overstimulated, and during these times, they need us to understand the big feelings they’re feeling but are unable to articulate.

    I think there is little to no value in using techniques such as “time out” to teach a child. Isolating a child who obviously needs more help (as shown by his/her acting out/misbehaving) is akin to saying “I don’t care, work it out by yourself.” Instead, I think that parents need to engage their children when they’ve misbehaved and let them know that they (they parents) understand the child’s struggles. Parents should help their children find words to describe how they’re feeling.

    I think there is absolutely zero value in spanking. None. Not even a little. When is it ever acceptable to hit someone just because they have done something wrong? I ripped on Red’s hair in last week’s crossover blog post. I called her a Republican. Despite all this, Red has yet to hit me in any way. Have we discussed the degree of nastiness in my post? Sure. Did I apologize for my one or two low blows? You bet. So, why treat our children differently? Using a violent act as a disciplinary tool only teaches our children that violence is acceptable. And simply stated, it is not.

    When parenting Jude, I do my best to say “no” as little as possible. In other words, I like to make my “nos” count. Instead of just saying “No, Jude. Don’t pull the cat’s tail,” I say to him, “Jude, pat the cat’s back. The cat likes it when you pat his back,” and I show him how to do it. Of course, I try to be at arm’s length at all times to stop him if he does get a good hold of one of the cats’ tails, but I think there’s much greater value in telling him what he can do instead of what he can’t. Additionally, if Jude is say, chewing on my cell phone and I would rather he not, I don’t tell him “No;” instead I ask him, “Can Mama have that?” and then take the phone from him and give him a toy to chew on in its place. I think a lot of the frustration kids feel is due to being told “No” all the time. So, as a parent, I want to try and say “Yes” as often as I can. If I’m tempted to say “No,” I want to really consider if the answer is truly “No” or if it’s really “Not now” or “Later.” Let’s say little Jessie wants a bowl of ice cream, but dinner is going to be ready in 15 minutes. Instead of saying “No,” you could say “We’re going to eat dinner shortly, but you can have some ice cream for dessert afterward.” If you don’t want Jessie to have ice cream at all, you can offer an alternative, maybe fruit salad as a sweet treat. Also, I’m hoping that by using the word “No” only when it really counts, I’ll be able to avoid having a toddler who answers “No” to every question asked of him.

    I dislike the use of contrived punishments for misbehavior. Personally, I think that natural and logical consequences should be utilized as teaching tools. For example, if your child hits another child and that child turns around and hits your child back, that’s a (sad) natural consequence. Or, if your household has a strict helmet-wearing rule and your child chooses to ride his/her bike without a helmet, a logical consequence would be not being able to ride his/her bike for a week. Using logical consequences teaches children to make good choices. Why ride your bike without a helmet if you know that you won’t be able to ride your bike for a while if you don’t? Natural and logical consequences can be utilized throughout a child’s entire life, whereas it’s hard to imagine sending a 14-year-old to the “naughty chair” for a time out.

    Finally, when teaching, or discipling, our children, it’s really important to have a good grasp on what kind of behavior is appropriate for each child’s developmental stage. When Jude was around five or six months old and I would be holding him while brushing my teeth, he would constantly pull on the shower curtain, often times shoving it in his mouth. The first two or three times I would tell him to stop and would remove the shower curtain from his hand. One day I finally asked myself, “Why not?” Really, what was the hurt of him pulling/chewing on the curtain. It was brightly colored and had a neat texture. Because of those two attributes, Jude took great delight in touching and gumming the shower curtain. Developmentally, he needed to touch the shower curtain… He was learning about the world through sight and touch (and taste!). So, I let him touch and slobber all over the curtain (and I still do!). I decided that that issue didn’t warrant using a “no.” See? I’m so much more laid back than you all thought I was!

    That’s this mom’s take on discipline. Check out why the Naked Redhead recently started packing Duct tape and rope on her shopping trips to Wal-Mart here.

    Want more? Check out the Crossover Blog archive!

  • Then and Now

    0

    Five years ago I did. not. want. children. There’s actually a rumor going around that I used to talk about putting babies in driers. It’s a lie! A lie, I tell you!

    Today, I have a son who brings me more joy than I ever thought possible. I try to imagine life without him, and I simply cannot.

    Five years ago I told a cousin of mine that if I ever “ended up pregnant” that I wanted the doctor to knock me out and cut that baby from my belly.

    Today, I am an advocate for natural childbirth. Though I did not succeed at birthing Jude at home, I did make it through a 31-hour labor drug-free.

    Five years ago I wanted to own a home, buy a new car, and work a lucrative job doing something (anything at all… I just wanted to make lots o’ money).

    Today, I want to live in a one-bedroom apartment, sell my car, and be a stay at home mom (you know what they say, “Mo’ money, mo’ problems.”).

    Five years ago I was afraid to enter a church because I was sure that crossing the threshold would cause my living-in-sin, pre-marital-sex-having, curse-word-saying, never-going-to-church self to spontaneously burst into flames.

    Today, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I am, in fact, a (YOUTH!) minister’s wife. Also, chances are one day I’ll be fully-ordained pastor’s wife. *Covers ears* LA LA LA! I CAN’T HEAR YOU!

    Five years ago I rocked out to the Alkaline Trio while driving in the car.

    Today, I belt out the lyrics to each and every song on each and every Veggie Tales CD we own. Oh, and I guess it goes without saying that I actually own Veggie Tales CDs. No joke.

    So, people of the internet, how does the you of five years ago compare to the you of the here and now?

    Posting may be a bit light this weekend due to traveling, but don’t despair! Tomorrow’s crossover blog post with the Naked Redhead is ready to go. Check back tomorrow to see how a mom’s view of discipline differs from a non-mom’s!

  • The Fifth Pile

    1

    I am dedicated to simplifying my life. As a testament to this, I recently emailed all of my family and friends with a list of items Josh and I have decided to sell. I’m also planning to have a yard sale to try and get rid of even more stuff. When I shop, I try to consciously consider whether or not each item is truly needed (not just waned) before placing it in my shopping cart. (Note: Chocolate is a necessity. Always.) Also, Josh and I also go through our wardrobe at regular intervals and donate items we no longer wear.

    Because I am a realist, when trying to determine which of my clothes to donate, I divide the items into five categories (read: piles on my bedroom floor).

    1. Keep-this pile is home to the clothes I am currently wearing.
    2. Toss-these items are too ratty to even donate. They either get thrown away or cut up into rags.
    3. Offer to friends/family-if I come across an item I think a friend or family member would really like, I offer it to them before putting it in the donate pile.
    4. Donate-these are clothes items that for one reason or another, I just don’t wear anymore. I like to package these up and take them to FreeSpace as a way of recycling them.
    5. “Never Going to Fit in Again. Ever. (Seriously, never.)”-this pile is comprised of clothing from my skinnier, pre-baby days (pre-marriage, even). While I never expect to actually be able to wear these clothes again, I am unable to get rid of them because they are my beloved. Some notable items from The Fifth Pile are my yellow dress, my stupid pants (read: capris) from Old Navy, my jean skirt, and my Gap trousers.

    Ladies and gentlemen of the internet, today I write to you with a great joy in my heart. Today, after realizing I had no clean pants to wear, I discovered that I once again fit into my jean skirt. Hallelujah! The Skirt is risen indeed! Praise the Lord for breastfeeding-induced weight loss, because He knows I’m sure as hell not partaking in any actual exercise. And also, I love chocolate.

    Also joining in the Resurrection are my yellow dress, my black skirt, and my Gap trousers.

  • Regrouping and Recharging

    0

    Josh didn’t get home from the mission trip he was leading until around 9:30pm Saturday. On the up side, he brought pizza home with him. On the down side, he woke Jude up when he got home. Normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal; I would just nurse him for a bit, and he would resume sleeping. Saturday night was different. Maybe it was the excitement of seeing his Papa after having not seen him for four days, or maybe it was because Josh and I really wanted to watch a few episodes of The Office before turning in, or maybe it was because Josh brought home the LOUDEST PIZZA BOX EVER, but whatever the reason, Jude just wouldn’t go back to sleep. I would let him down to play for a bit (dumb move? maybe), and he would inevitably come back after a few minutes crying and signing “milk.” I think this went on until around 11pm or midnight. It’s a bit of a blur right now. Whatever time we actually ended up going to sleep is irrelevant, however, because Jude had what might have been his worst night ever sleeping. (Or, the worst night he’s had in at least two months… one or the other.)

    Sunday morning, Jude was up bright and early, which I guess wasn’t a bad thing since I had to straighten up for the open house that was scheduled for later that day. I don’t know what I was thinking all week while Josh was gone. I pretty much let the housekeeping slide for four days because, hey, it’s hard to clean while trying to keep my son happy. I thought I would have time to pick up the place on Saturday after Josh got home, but since he got home so late, that plan didn’t come to fruition. So, on Sunday morning I found myself exactly where I had been the four days prior: I was alone with an unhappy baby, I needed to clean, and the house was a bit of a mess. Oh, the only difference was that now I only had about three hours in which to take care of it all.

    Jude and I got out of the house nearly on time and met Josh at one of his churches. From there we went to lunch, then to Josh’s other church, then shopping, and finally home. Jude was spent. He went to sleep at 5:30pm and didn’t get up (other than to nurse a few times) until 7:30am on Monday.

    Those were fourteen hours of sweet, sweet bliss…

    But still, on Monday morning, I didn’t feel well-rested. I dragged myself up and out of bed and went to work. I came home for lunch and then went back to work. After work we grabbed dinner and went shopping, and finally, at around 8:30pm, we arrived home. Jude was kind of off all day. His nose was runny, and Josh and I think he’s teething. He went to sleep around 9:30 last night, and was up at around 6:20am today. I’m aiming to start bedtime tonight around 7pm. He seems to go to sleep more easily, and sleep later into the morning, when I put him to bed early.

    I hope that explains my two-day writing hiatus. I’m still exhausted today, but I’m hoping to write and post at least once more later this afternoon. My friend Jessica asked to hear about the one time I was confronted about NIP. Look for that story next week.

    Now, it’s time for lunch. Josh and Jude are napping, so I’m thinking I might actually be able to enjoy my food for the first time in more than 13 months! Woo!

  • Letter to Jude: Month 13

    1

    Dear Jude,

    Today you turned 13 months old. Hooray! Congratulations! You’re officially into your second year of life. How does it feel?

    STA73400

    Shortly after you turned one year old, you started walking. Now that you’ve pretty much mastered that walking thing, it is no longer good enough for you. Since you can, you simply MUST run. A nice stroll down the hallway is no longer an option; you sprint whenever possible. You still fall an awful lot, but it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. You love being mobile. You love moving around. You love chasing the cats.

    You and I seem to have come to an agreements of sorts. For the first part of this month, there was much whining and fussing on your part and much frustration and anger on my part. You’ve let up on the whining and fussing, and I’ve let go of (most of) the frustration and (all of) the anger. We’ve spent seven days together, one-on-one, this month. They were some of the best days we’ve had, I think. We spent a lot of the time napping together, but we also went on a walk with our friend Joanie, read a fair number of books, sang silly songs, and shared our meals at the dining room table. I didn’t get much cleaning done during these seven days, but honestly, I don’t care! We had so much fun together… I wouldn’t trade that for anything in this world. Not even a spotless house.

    You have started giving the BEST. HUGS. EVER. lately. I don’t know what I did to make me rank up there with the cats, but baby, thanks! I love it when we’re playing in your room and you come barreling at me, arms wide open. Most of the time you fall into me, hugging me and holding onto me for more than a few seconds each time. It’s pure heaven… even better than chocolate.

    You went swimming for the first time earlier this month, and though you were apprehensive at first, I really do think you enjoyed yourself. Your Papa is looking forward to teaching you to swim. I’m looking forward to relaxing pool-side.

    As each month goes by, you become more and more vocal. I guess that’s what babies do, but I’m constantly blown away by how much you have to say. In addition to talking, you’ve really gotten the hang of clapping this past month. Previously, you would awkwardly put your hands not quite together when Papa or I would urge you to “clap, clap, clap.” Now… well, now you’re an expert at clapping. There’s no hesitation in your eyes anymore; there’s no worry that your hands might miss each other and send you spinning around from the force of your effort. Now when you want to clap, you bring your hands together in rapid succession, each time knowing with certainty that each hand will meet it’s mark.

    Although I had hoped that you would live on breastmilk alone for at least the first 10 or so years of your life (hey! Mama LOVES her D cup!), you’ve recently started eating a ton of solid food each day. Unfortunately, I haven’t found the time to make your baby food, so most of what you’ve been eating has come from a jar. I’m sorry, Jude. I really wanted to say that I cooked for you right from the very beginning. However, after thirteen months, I think you and I both know that Mama isn’t Little Susie Homemaker. At least the jarred stuff is all organic! That’s something. Right?

    STA73427

    Thank you for another outstanding month, Baboo. I can’t wait to see what next month has in store for us!

    Love,
    mama

  • Crossover Blog #1: Breastfeeding in Public

    5

    I swear this wasn’t my idea for a topic. Actually, when Red and I first talked about doing some inter-blogging between our sites, I briefly considered suggesting NIP (nursing in public) as a topic but then thought, “Well, we surely have the same views, so that won’t make for a good discussion. Plus, is this even worth writing about? Isn’t it a non-issue?” and let it drop. I was wrong. Apparently we don’t have the same views on this topic, and apparently it isn’t a non-issue. Or, in other words, it’s an “issue.” So, let’s discuss.

    Before I jump into talking about breastfeeding in public, I think it makes sense to talking about plain old breastfeeding (that which occurs within the confines of one’s own dwelling, for instance). Babies are born to breastfeed. Breast milk has been touted as being “best,” and it is-nothing comes close to supplying your child with the nutrients, antibodies, comfort, and super-yummy taste as breast milk does-but more than that, it’s normal. It’s the default. Humans are mammals, and thus, make milk for their offspring.

    Okay. Enough about that. I could write pages and pages about the benefits of breastfeeding, but that isn’t what this post is supposed to be about. I’m supposed to be writing about the controversy that is breastfeeding in public. Oh the horror! A baby eating!

    I think the best way for me to go about writing on this topic is to address some of the, ahem, concerns people have about mothers nursing in public. First, there’s this urban legend that nursing mothers tend to “whip it out” when breastfeeding their children. I wish Snopes would write an entry on this because honestly people, NURSING MOMS DON’T WHIP IT OUT! Well, I’ll qualify that. Early on in a breastfeeding relationship, new moms might find it easier to breastfeed her child without a shirt on. Sometimes it’s hard to see if the baby’s latch is good when you’re trying to maneuver a shirt out of your way. By the time mom is ready to be out and about for any real length of time, chances are she has a good handle on nursing and can do it without feeling the need to charge admission to the show.

    Second, and this goes hand-in-hand with my first point, people sometimes claim that breastfeeding is offensive/disgusting/gross/obscene/whatever asinine adjective you would like to use and that it should be done in private (if at all… again, icky!), or if it HAS to be done in public, a blanket should be placed over the baby and mother as not draw attention to the fact that the child is eating. From a breast. A few things about this line of thinking: Breastfeeding is normal. Any issue that *you* have with it is simply that-your issue. It’s not mine or my child’s or that mother’s over there. There is no such thing as the right not to be offended. If you don’t like looking at something, be it the ass crack of your friendly neighborhood plumber, the muffin top of high school girl walking down the street, or the mother breastfeeding her child, the simple solution is to look away. Personally, big, red, curly afros offend me, but I still visit the Naked Redhead whenever I drive through the lovely state of OH, and I somehow manage to resist handing her a paper bag for her head each and every time. Which brings me to another thing… Uhm, draping a big old blanket over half your body and your baby’s is a sure-fire way to draw attention to the horrible, sinful act that is occurring. Nothing screams “HEY LOOK AT ME!” more than an awkwardly placed blanket with little baby legs sticking out from one end. For me, especially early on, you couldn’t even tell when I was nursing Jude. Usually it looked like I was carrying him as he slept. I suspect it’s like that for most mother/child combos.

    People often make the mistake of, uhm, suggesting, that mothers breastfeed their babies out of the public eye. In a bathroom, for instance. I don’t know if I can address this disgusting idea without flying off the handle, but I’ll try…

    No.

    I’ll let it go at that. I’m sure my intelligent readers don’t need me to spell out how horribly insulting it is to suggest to a mother that she feed her child in a germ/poop/piss-ridden bathroom. Thinking about it, I wonder if the “Why don’t you feed your baby in the bathroom?” response is another urban legend. I mean, people don’t really say that to nursing moms, do they? I mean, no one would think to take a nice juicy steak into a bathroom stall and chow down, so they certainly wouldn’t try and encourage a mother to breastfeed her child in one, right? RIGHT?

    Finally, I would like to say a word about discretion. In regards to breastfeeding, I really find “discretion,” and its derivatives, to be a dirty word. I hate, hate, HATE hearing that mothers should be discreet when nursing in front of other people. Why, you ask? Simply because discretion is subjective. If I’m wearing a nursing tank top with a shirt layered over it, I can breastfeed Jude and not show more than one square inch of boob, and really, you would only see that skin if you were sitting on top of me looking for it. Because I don’t show much skin, I often get “Oh, you’re so discreet when you nurse!” (insert looks of joy), and I rarely get hassled (though I was, once. Let me know if you would like to hear that story.). *sigh* It shouldn’t matter how much skin I show or how much any mother shows. What this all boils down to is this: when you see a mother nursing in public, you’re simply witnessing a mother feeding her child. That’s it. No more. No less. If it offends you, look away. If you see a mom breastfeeding and the baby pops off and serves you up an eye-full of nipple, realize that you see more boobage each time you walk past Victoria’s Secret, and let it go.

    This topic should be tabled. I can’t for the life of me understand the controversy here. Even more, I can’t believe that Red doesn’t have my back. But then again, she’s a closet Republican.

    Check out what the bat-shit crazy Naked Redhead has to say on the topic here.

    Want more? Check out the Crossover Blog archive!

  • Up Close and Personal with the Naked Redhead

    1

    The Naked Redhead and I are gearing up for the first of our weekly crossover blogging exchanges. This week we’re going to have a nice, polite discussion on the topic of breastfeeding in public (and if that doesn’t work, we’ll resort to name calling). I will be writing from the “mom” perspective, and Red will be writing from the “out of her fucking mind, bat-shit crazy, non-mom” perspective. (I can say that with authority because I know her views on the topic, and they’re certifiably insane… oop! So much for a polite discussion!)

    I’ve known Red for about seven years. We met at work and continued our friendship even though I left that hellish place in the middle of the night with little to no notice. When my husband (then boyfriend) and I got together, I thought he would really enjoying hanging out with her then-husband. (I prefer “then-husband to ex-husband. What do you think?) They boys hit it off, and thus began our long friendship. Red and I would talk about knitting and cooking and how to best service our husbands, and the boys would talk about God and theology.

    I’m kidding!

    Kind of.
    Anyway, it’s been an honor getting to know this fantastic girl, and I’m really looking forward to this joint endeavor. She is one of my best friends, and there is no one I would rather do this with.

    And, I look forward to making her cry.

  • Breaking and Entering

    2

    Josh left for Boston early this afternoon, so this morning was filled with last-minute prep, remembering forgotten items, and many muttered-under-the-breath curses. We got out of the house (nearly) on time, and I made it to work with seconds to spare.

    Since Josh had to leave town before my first shift finished this morning, we recruited our friend Stacy to babysit Jude while I worked. Stacy and Jude had a nice morning together. They played at the park, Jude napped for a (very short) bit, and he was really pleasant all around. Hoping to capitalize on Jude’s pleasant-ness, I hauled ass home as soon as he and Stacy got back to the office. Honestly, I THREW MONEY at the girl and high-tailed it out of there, praying that my oh-so-overtired son would make it home without having a total meltdown. He did fine, by the way.

    Once home, I grabbed all my stuff (baby, notebook, cooler lunch bag, other needless shit) and hurried to the door because by that time, I only had a little over an hour to eat, nurse the boy, and let him sleep before I had to head back to work. As I approached the front door of my house, I realized that Jake Gyllenhaal, I mean, my friend Phil had my house key in Honduras with him and that in my haste to get home, I forgot to get Josh’s keys from Stacy.

    I was locked out. And did I mention I only had a little over an hour to eat, feed my son, and lay him down for a nap? By this point I was very unhappy and hungry. And tired. And I did not want to have to try and break into my house, but I didn’t have any other choice, did I, people of the internet? No, I did not. So, I grabbed my hoodie from the back of my car, wrapped it around my hand, and punched straight through the window at the front of my house. BAM! CRASH! OUCH!

    That or I asked the neighbor to hold Jude while I opened the window at the front of the house, climbed through the window and over my couch, and unlocked the front door. One or the other. You pick.

    You know, I was really happy to be able to get into my house with minimal hassle, but HELLO! I BROKE INTO MY HOUSE WITH MINIMAL HASSLE! If that isn’t cause for a round of “God Is Bigger,” I don’t know what is.

Page 1 of 3123»