Day 98: All That to Say, And More

I am painfully aware that I have not blogged in quite some time.  It isn't because I have nothing to say.  It's because I have so much to say, and I really can't say any of it.  And when I don't have the freedom to write about what is stuffed inside my head, it tends to get a bit stuffy in there!

I would love to tell you how things are going in adoption land, but that is all top secret information.  Well, it's not really top secret, but it's fairly confidential, so I cannot share anything with you at all, except to tell you that our system is really jacked up! Or maybe it's not and my idea of how things SHOULD work would be terrible.  But I would still love to take a shot at it!  I used to have a friend that would say to me, "If only they'd let you rule the world, Carol."  HA!  So true.

But, still, there are some great things happening here at Chez Jones.  It's only a few short months until Zack and Christina's wedding.  (Christina could probably tell you how many days.)  I have officially picked out a MOG dress (figure it out) and had it altered.  When I tried it on for the seamstress to alter it, she said, "I hope this won't sound weird, but this dress makes your butt look fabulous."  A little awkward, not gonna lie.  But still, kinda awesome.

Jacob is rowing Crew (I don't technically know how to say what he is doing, so I hope that is accurate!)  He competed in his first regatta this past weekend.  And in true Jones fashion, he won.  Oh yeah.  In a post from a year ago, I wrote about how we Joneses like to play games and how we pretty much dominate when we play.  Even when it's just a cake walk at a preschool!  So, of course, no one was surprised that Jacob's team won.  Except maybe Jacob's coach, and his team, and Jacob, and the other teams!  But seriously, so stinking cool!  And since Mike and I couldn't go, Zack drove for three hours to be our "family support" for Jacob. 

Mike and I recently went to Albany, Texas, to visit our good friends Allen and Doris Tarbutton.  Doris has been my prayer mentor since Zack was in 8th grade, so about 13 years now.  On our first day there, Allen came out with a cowboy hat on and said, "Would you like a hat?"  I laughed a little bit at that and then I noticed that he had also strapped on a sidearm.  Wait, What?  I get a hat and he gets a GUN?!!!!  Turns out, life on a Dude Ranch can be a little dangerous if you're not armed!  But nonetheless, it was a great time away.

And the girls?  They are growing like little sweet dandelion weeds!  And they experienced their first night of "trunk or treating" ever.  They might still be on a bit of a sugar high.  Someone who shall remain unnamed, Zack Jones, gave them cotton candy, and a sucker, and some smarties.  But hey, isn't that what big brothers are for? 

All that to say, there is a lot to say, and so much more.  But this is enough for one post.  Probably too much, truth be told.

Day 97: Happy Birthday Zack

Has it really been 27 years since I gave birth to you?  My how the time has flown.  I sit here typing thinking, "How is it possible that you have lived that many years already?"  I barely feel 27 myself!

I'm so grateful you are my son.  You have blessed me in more ways than I know how to write. 

Though the past few birthday blogs will show that I do have much to say about you!
As Far As Big Brothers
Twenty Five
Don't Tell Stupid Stories About Me

I feel like you are on the edge of the rest of your life.  That probably sounds silly, because I guess technically every day is the edge of the rest of our life. 

But here you are.  Your last birthday as a single man.  And I cannot help but feel like it is the last birthday I will have with you where you are just mine.   After this year, you won't be just "my son" you'll be someone's husband.  It reminds me of the verse in the Bible that says, " . . . a man shall leave his father and his mother and be forever connected to his wife." 

And THAT makes this birthday very, very special.  It's technically the last birthday of your childhood. 27 years ago, they placed your warm little face next to mine, and I remember that day like it was yesterday.  It is a memory forever branded into my brain. I would relive that day a million times over.  

But it's the days to come that I am the most excited to watch unfold.   

All that to say, Happy Birthday my sweet little boy.

Day 96: Who Is He? - Infinite

This is my second post in a series called "Who is He?"  As part of learning to hear the voice of God, I have been asking, "God, will you teach me something about you today."  And though I don't hear an answer everytime I ask, I have written down what I believe He has been teaching me.

"I am infinite.  And because I know in your humaness, you will try to define that, let me hlep you.  I have no beginning or end, either in time or dimension.

I cannot be measured or contained. 

I cannot be bound or confined.

There is no end to the depth of me.

And the same can be said of my grace for you, my patience for you, my forgiveness for you and most importantly of my love for you.

They are all infinite. 

I am infinite."

All that to say, I am so glad that He is.

Day 95: Again with the Toes

I was hesitant to post this because I just had a disastrous toe story a few weeks ago, and it makes me sound pampered . . . or cursed.

But I'll take the risk because my friend, Vicki, said, "You have to post that story."  And my soon to be daughter-in-law, Christina, said, "You have the worst luck with pedicures."  And my son, Zack, said "Where did you go to get your pedicure?  WALMART?  You don't have bad luck with pedicures.  That's like saying you have bad luck with haircuts but you get your haircuts at Fantastic Sams."  (Just for the record though, I have had some very good haircuts at Fantastic Sams . . .and some very good pedicures at Walmart) :) 

So, I thought I would tell you the story.

I went to Walmart to get a pedicure.  I've gone there many times and always loved it and my pedicures have lasted a really long time, so I went back.  I went on my lunch hour because it is never crowded mid-week and that means they take their time, which is always awesome.

Things were going really well during the pedicure.  My toes looked beautiful.   Then the lady asked me if I would like a manicure.  They were having a special for only $5!  (She also asked me if I wanted my eyebrows waxed . . . I tried not to read anything into that.)  Looking down at my fingernails, I realized a manicure was probably not a bad idea, so I said yes.

I should have been alarmed right away when the girl doing my manicure was suddenly surrounded by 3 people telling her (I'm assuming here b/c I don't actually speak the language they were speaking) HOW to perform the manicure.  During the process, she stepped on my freshly polished toenails!  Arghhh!

The lady who had originally done my pedicure, and who now was instructing the manicurist, looked down at my messed up nails and fussed at the girl doing my fingernails.  Then she walked over and got a little jar of fingernail polish remover and a paintbrush and brushed it on my messed up nail.  Fingernail polish remover ran everywhere, including onto my sandal that was on my foot.  Instantly, my foot stuck to my shoe b/c the polish remover was melting the waxy coating that was on my leather sandals!  I know this is hard to picture from the description, but picture 4 Nail Salon employees all bending over me, with horror on their faces, and me sitting in a rolling black office chair, with messed up toenails, and a sandal melting to my foot!

At that point, I had to move back to the pedicure chairs so they could PEEL my sandal off my foot and try to scrub (for 10 minutes!) the brown shoe dye off the bottom of my foot.  OUCH! 

After my toes were fixed (she messed up another one in the process of trying to fix the first one and peeling off my shoe) I went up to the man running the cash register.  He told me that would be $42!  "FORTY TWO DOLLARS," I said.  "For what? The mani-pedi special was $28!"  He said,"$28 for the mani-pedi and 14 for fixing two nails!"  For real, that's what he said.

I nicely explained that I was not going to pay them anything, but especially not 14 dollars for fixing two nails that THEY messed up.  AND they ruined my brand new leather sandal!  He told me he would deduct the cost of my sandals ($12) and that I would owe him $30 (which is still more than the actual cost of the mani-pedi!)

Again, I assured him I was not going to pay for the kind of service I had received, ruined sandals, glued foot that was rubbed raw, blah, blah, blah.

In the end, I prevailed and was able to walk away without paying.  =

All that to say, seriously . . . again with the toes . . .