My biggest blond moment -ever!

It was strange….these symptoms I was having the entire week of Christmas. I’d go to bed exhausted from working like a ninja-elf during the day and collapsing into bed after taking my nightly vitamins and acid reflux medicine. And then like clock work I’d wake up suddenly and all wide awakey at 1am ready to conquer the world. The first night I figured I’d fall back asleep but it didn’t happen. I tossed and turned until 5am. The next four nights the same thing happened but I could tell I wasn’t going to back to sleep. So I went downstairs and folded laundry, read books, prayed and wrapped presents. I wasn’t the slightest bit tired. It was just an overwhelming wide awake feeling of wanting to accomplish and get things done with a great ability to focus like I’ve never ever in my life experienced in the middle of the night.

This kept happening and I would go back to sleep around 6am and then get up at 8:00am feeling like Santa’s sleigh ran me over head first.

It was rather embarrassing to tell my 7o something (she’d kill me if I said it out loud) year old mother who was up visiting to excuse me while I went to take a nap during the day. The week of Christmas with family visiting is just not the time you want to start insomnia for the first time ever.

Just when I was about to conclude I was going full blown cray-cray it became crystal clear what was going on.

When I went to refill the weekly medicine containers I realized I had been taking our son’s ADD medicine every night before bed instead of my acid reflux medicine that looks almost identical. As soon as I realized it I yelled, “OH MY WORD!!!!” Sophie came running in and my Mom said, “What in the world?”

I explained what I had been doing all week long. After I overcame the sick feeling of needing the reach down my throat to remove all the wrong medicine I’d been taking I was able to laugh hysterically about it.   I can’t even describe the sense of relief I had. Thankfully I had not made the switch on both ends. Our son had not been taking my acid reflux medicine and he had been taking his ADD medicine during the day. Somehow I just put his medicine in both his and my medicine container. I think that’s the biggest blond moment of 2014 – possibly my entire life! I mean that’s just all around bad.

But it It gets worse.

Because I took a week’s worth of our son’s ADD medicine he ran out a week early. And then the pharmacy started asking questions when I asked for it to be refilled early. I was all like, “Uhhh yeah, well, I know it’s a little early but could we just still get it please?” Pharmacy boy is all, “Well, why are you out so early?” And I’m like trying to figure out what to say. Because confusing medicine for one day is understandable. But 5 whole days in a row? Really? Who does that? If I tell him what I did I’m either going to come across as an insane crazy lady or a street dealer. So what did I do? What any normal mature grown up would do. I hung up on the Doctor of Pharmacy pants. I was on hold and I panicked and I hung up. I am an adult and I hung up on another adult. Who does this?

So in my mind I quickly decided plan B would have to involve going the ole natural route for 5 days. My green tea, granola consuming friends would be oh so proud. Nothing red – not even red clothing. No sugar – including candy canes. No gluten, No caffeine, No nothing. Just nothing for 5 days because I was not going to rat myself out. But then I realized we’d never be able to pull that crazy off. We didn’t go natural. We went with left overs of a lower dose I had on hand. That I got off the street. Just Kidding. Another joke that’s not very funny. And it all worked out.

As far as getting back to a normal sleep schedule – 5 days of insomnia took about 10 days to get back into my normal rhythm of sleeping all night long. But I have never been so thankful for my full 8 hours of sleep. Not only that, I have a better understanding and sympathy for people who have insomnia.  I don’t wish it upon my worst enemy.

I gave some serious thought to the power of the medicine that our son is taking. It truly has an impact on the brain and mind – for sure it does! This can be a controversial subject and each parent has to decide what is best for their child who is struggling with the very real diagnosis of ADHD or ADD. We feel the best thing for our son is to medicate right now. It helps him tremendously. For others the natural route works and that’s awesome. Judging each other through the difficult waters of ADD is not what we need. But more like an understanding of each other.

So yeah, if I survived my biggest blond moment of the last 39 years (I like pretending I’m only 39) then I can do anything.



3 lessons learned & random miscellany

Lesson #1: Don’t recycle bird nests for bird use


If you have ever wondered if you could trick a fallen baby bird by putting it into a nest that’s not it’s own just know it doesn’t work. The rescue attempt is a kind hearted move but the bird will fly out immediately and make a beak dive and injure it’s other wing. We have six bird nests that we’ve recovered from our ferns on the front porch. So we tried recycling them. Didn’t work. Yeah, just don’t try to be green when it comes to bird nests. Unless you want to use it as a candy dish and that’s just gross. I’m pretty sure that’s how people get the bird flu.


On a happier note we had a great time with church/school staff on July 4th cooking out and doing fireworks with the kids in the front yard. About the time a bottle rocket landed on a roof at the same time a policeman drove by we decided we should be done. But it was fun while it lasted.

Lesson #2: Save the bottle rockets for the beach or the country. Not the city limits.


This week Mitchell was at a lego robotics camp at our local community college. It was a lot of fun for him although he really enjoys building more than programming. This was a great experience for him.


While he was doing his lego thing Sophie and I had some special girl time. We got our nails done one day and walked our little downtown and got ice cream. It was a fun time together.


I found this adorable whicker basket in one of my favorite little shops called Mish Mosh. I’m thinking I may go back and get it if it’s not already sold. It would be so cute with long twigs coming out or some lighted stalks of something. But I’m being budget girl right now so I’m not spending money on things that aren’t needs. I don’t know though, sometimes you just need a whicker basket.


 Lesson #3: Don’t try to explain what a Mammogram is to your children. 

I was praying with someone over the phone this week who was about to have a mammogram and she was very anxious about it. We prayed and apparently I used the word “mammogram” enough times for our seven year old to ask me about it when I got off the phone. Ironically she was content to accept my simple answer of, “It’s a test that helps Doctors determine if you have cancer.”

But it was our teenage son that asked a million questions. What kind of test? How do they do the test? Where do they do the test? Have you had the test? Do men have the test? Is it a shot? I tried so very hard to avoid specific answers for whatever reason. Maybe because I just found it awkward? But finally I was pressed so hard with the questions that I just unloaded and gave the full description.

Mitchell’s eyes were are as wide as saucers and Sophie is belly aching with laughter. Mitchell is horrified at the thought and in pure shock. He asks if Sophie would ever have to have one and when I replied in the affirmative her laughing suddenly came to an abrupt halt. I told her she had to grow them first and then wait for like 25 years before she had to have one so she didn’t need to worry about it.

When Randy got home for dinner the kids revisit the mammogram conversation and start telling Randy, complete with sound effects and charade type gestures, what a mammogram is.  I’m pretty sure Randy was in about as much shock as the kids were because after 21 years of marriage this is one topic we’ve never really discussed.

I’m just hoping it doesn’t come up in church or school as a prayer request soon. I can just see my kids requesting prayer for all the 35 year old women and up that will have to endure a mammogram. Nice.

Alrighty then, that’s what we’ve learned the last two weeks. What about you? Learning anything practical you’d like to share with the rest of us?


Two nightmares in one day

The first nightmare involved spending close to two hours wearing a paper towel in the OBGYN’s office and I was not a happy camper. Grumpy and stomach growling I decided to drive through Chick-Filet on this perfectly sunny day. They are the only fast food restaurant that can successfully facilitate a triple wrapped line of cars at lunch time in just 10 minutes. I noticed there were people standing at all corners of the Chick-Filet with buckets collecting money. Sheriff’s Office raising money for Special Olympics. Then I heard someone on a loud speaker so I rolled down my window to see what all the commotion was. Next to the Chick-Filet cow was a man saying, “Get out of your car and dance for ten seconds with the cow and get free coupons.” But nobody was budging at the packed lunch hour.

Apparently I was smiling because the guy with the loud speaker points to me and says to me through the loud speaker, “You want to do it. I can tell you do.” I laughed and said, “Yeah I kinda do, but no way am I getting out of my car and dancing for 10 seconds with a cow.”

But the thought of a free chick-filet sandwich or a coke sounded pretty good. I also love to dance even though I have no rhythm. Annnnnd I’d never see these people again – hopefully. Oh please no.

So I got out of my car in my long tie dyed skirt and started busting the moves with a cow I was hoping I’d never see again. Meanwhile the loudspeaker guy is counting down from 10. When he gets to 1 I grab my cup of goodies and bolted to my car. I only had a few seconds before ordering so I had to see what my coupon was for.

I start looking at the coupons and NONE of them are for Chick-Filet! Not one blasted coupon is for Chick-Filet. Pet store coupons, Men’s clothing coupons, blah, blah, blah. What the world?

I did find some satisfaction in the fact that two other cars followed suit and started dancing with the cow too.

But still…..I danced for chick-filet coupons!

It gets worse……This is where the second nightmare unfolds.

Shortly after grabbing lunch on the run I ran into a store real quick and as I passed by a mirror what I saw scared me to death. I had on a long, thin brown and cream tie dyed skirt with no slip and you could see straight through my skirt. I mean straight through it. I tried so hard to forget that just an hour before I had been dancing in the noonday sunshine while practically mooning every car in the drive thru and inside customers on the other side of the glass windows. You can’t unsee that, people!

Horrifying experience.

See this is the real reason Baptists don’t dance. The few times they tried it totally bit them in the see through britches.


Risking silly for the sake of sanity

Sometimes you just have to get your silly on and act nine years old again. That’s what a friend and I did the other weekend. She’s walking a very difficult road right now but has somehow (only the grace of God) maintained the ability to laugh and keep her focus on Jesus. I admire her for running to Jesus when it would be so much easier to throw up her hands and give up. We went out for dinner and a movie and saw Saving Mr. Banks – such a great movie! All about Walt Disney and the process of buying the rights to Mary Poppins. It was so fabulous that we came out feeling very English and refined. So much so that we started talking in an English accent and didn’t let it go for a few hours. We dared ourselves to go to dinner talking like that the entire time. We fabricated a story, should anyone ask, that we were from England and our very rich Aunt passed away and were were in town for funeral arrangements in a city called Gray-ham (supposed to be pronounced Graham).  What we didn’t know was that we’d be at Chili’s for almost two hours. We stood in the crammed restaurant talking like full blown Brits and it started getting old by the 14 minute  mark but we couldn’t go back. Finally we were seated and our waiter asked us where we were from and we told him England. We asked for hot tea and scones but he warned us the tea wouldn’t be the same as in England and they didn’t have scones. At one point we asked him if there was an “at and t” store around because we had a cell phone issue. He looked at us funny and said, “Do you mean AT&T?” We had a hard time keeping the laughter in but we did.  It was exhausting trying to talk with a fake accent for that long! By the end of the night we had asked two random strangers to sing Happy Birthday (and they did) and went into T-mobile (still wearing English accents) asking for a rotary phone (which they did not have). Just plain stupid stuff. But we had fun and nobody got hurt. And no, we were not drinking. Laughter, it does a body good! Sometimes you just have to risk being silly for the sake of sanity.

Horrifying Handbag Shopping Experience

It was supposed to be a fabulous day of picking out my long awaited and saved up for handbag. And I mean a nice handbag. I’m the kind of handbag girl that changes out her purse twice a year. Spring/Summer bag and a Fall/Winter bag and that’s it. And usually it’s a cute but cheap bag by 9 West or something like that however I’ve had the bug lately to get a nice purse. That’s why I say “handbag” because if it’s more than $80 it becomes a handbag in my opinion. And I was ready with my Christmas and Birthday money saved up to make the plunge it get a nice handbag.

I had already picked out my Michael Kors handbag online but wanted to save the $12 in S/H so I drove to the mall to purchase it. And it goes with everything so I loved it.

But when I went to purchase it the lady says to me, “That’s not an every day bag you know.” I was like what do you mean? She explained that it doesn’t hold up well and really should only be used for special occasions. So that stopped me in my tracks. I had to pick out a new bag.

Two hours later this poor lady was still unlocking purse after purse for me to try on. I was stuck between a cross body UGG bag that I loved with all my heart but it was more money than I had in pocket. Finally to just get rid of me she offers me 10% off the bag that never goes on sale. She unlocked it a third time for me and I threw it over my shoulder and decided it looked too much like the Liz Claiborne bag my Mom used to carry in the 80’s. I wasn’t going to pay several hundred bucks to go old school all of a sudden. So we started venturing into the Coach bags which I’ve always sworn I would never carry because so many people do. But I found myself looking and liking their bags.

I should mention that at this point I’m having a huge hot flash. I wore this thick turtleneck sweater because it was 6 degrees outside. I know better than to wear a sweater at all but I figured the 6 degree thing would be an exception. Nope, I was starting to sweat bullets. I had to take it off. So I did. And what I had under it was an apricot colored tshirt that doubles as a sleep shirt for me. I just wore it because the sweater was scratchy. So now I’m browsing Coach bags in a pajama top and brown sweatpants. Lovely.

I find a fabulous Coach bag and throw it over my shoulder admiring it when the lady grins and says, “Honey, you’ve got it backwards. You want the ‘coach’ to show.” I’m pretty sure it was in that moment she realized I wasn’t really a Coach or Michael Kors bag wearing chick. But that was okay because I was about to show the world I was going to be. I found the largest red handbag you’ve ever seen in your life. I told the lady I’d have to find stuff to fit in it and she said, “Well, then that eliminates that bag.” I said, “Oh no, I can put my study Bible in it and a bible study handbook along with my computer on days I take it places and I can throw in some of the kids toys. I’m buying it.” She runs to the stock room really fast in case I were to find something else while waiting like I did the other two times. Ya’ll I almost bought a cobalt blue bag for an every day bag. Who does that! She comes back and I tell her, “Hurry up and swipe my card. I’m just ready to get out of here and I know you’re ready to say buh-bye to me.” She hands me the largest Dillard’s bag they have and inside is my new snazzy red Coach bag that I will be packing every single day of my life for the next 30 years. At least that’s what I told myself to justify the purchase that cost close to our monthly grocery bill.

I grabbed the massive bag and ran upstairs to check out the kids sales. While I was there I found some great deals on stuff for Sophie but I noticed I had this unsettled feeling in my stomach. I kept looking at the bag that carried my handbag. It was HUGE. My hand was tired from carrying it and there wasn’t even anything in it yet. This was just wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. I could not pay that much for a handbag nor could I find enough earthly treasure to put in it nor could I see using solid red as my every day color.

So still wearing my pajama top with scratchy sweater and huge bag in hand I peer down to the first floor to see if the lady that spent her entire morning helping me was still there. Yes, I see her. I would have to wait and casually stalk her from the second floor until she left for lunch and then make a run for it. She finally leaves and I run down the escalator and throw my bag on the counter and say, “I’d like to return this handbag. It’s just not quite large enough.”

The lady looks at me and isn’t sure if she should laugh or not. I held a straight face and was hoping with all my might the lady who helped me would not show up on the scene. Thankfully she never did. It felt good to see the money go back on my credit card. And I practically ran out of that store. I knew I was saying my goodbyes to Dillard’s. I would never show my face in that store again. Ever. If I did I’d at least have to have matching pajama bottoms.

First day of school and a few interventions

The first day of school didn’t exactly get off to a great start yesterday. It started with this dreadfully wrong picture:

Our son attends a small Christian school and this is his first year attending class in the high school building instead of the elementary building. He said he was okay with it if we walked him to his class. So here we are – “the family” in tow walking across the parking lot and hallway amidst a bunch of high schoolers and middle schoolers with Mitchell. With every step it felt more wrong. I had this sick feeling in my stomach like we are screwing our kid up so bad. He is the only kid with his Mom and Dad and little sister following him to class. A flesh and blood family GPS. Mitchell makes it to his class and never looks back and we ran out of there realizing what an epic parental fail that was.

But we had a chance to redeem ourselves with walking our six year old to class. And walking your first grader to class is totally okay. She was sporting one of her new outfits which we had been saving just for school. She struts to the top of the stairs in her  purple leggings and colorful leopard print top and then falls into a heap of tears and starts clinging to me. Anxiety sets in and she can’t get control of herself. We pull her aside and talk to her. She’s afraid of first grade. Afraid of tests, afraid of quizzes. We’re like shocked this is coming out of our normally confident, school lovin’ little girl. We talked with her and assured her but it’s not helping. We leave her crying and that’s when I bolted in the Art room and had my own cry fest. Thankfully two friends came in and rescued me by praying for Sophie and me. What a gift. I was thankful for friendship in that moment.

Later that morning Sophie’s teacher sent me a text saying she was doing great. I was relieved even though Randy and I  knew she would be fine. At the end of the day I got in the carpool line – the wrong spot of course but got that worked out soon enough – and picked up the kids.  So we get home and they sit on the couch and they tell me all about their day. It was a great first day for both of them even though we forgot a few minor things like a PENCIL BOX with scissors, glue, pencils and rulers in it. But who needs that kind of stuff  for school, right?

Okay, so then I open Sophie’s folder at 5:00pm and I see it.

I see the note.

A genuinely sweet & short little note reminding us of the dress code.

And before you think it’s just a small petty thing let me set you straight. We’re not talking we missed it by forgetting a belt. Oh no, we missed it big time. Like her entire outfit was a violation of the dress code which was clearly laid out in the handbook…….that I thought I had read for my devotions one day this summer. Apparently not. I missed that big ole section where they state clearly students need to wear a collared shirt,  solid or striped tops and solid bottoms mainly khaki, navy or denim. So here I am finally understanding that literally everything we bought her was out of dress code. She didn’t even have one collared shirt to wear.   We have a “swap shop” at our school with tons of collared shirts and dress code clothes for $1.oo. Did I know about it? Oh yes, I sure did. I browsed though it looking for a logo shirt for chapel days but I totally dismissed all the color polo shirts thinking, ” Sophie hates feeling confined with shirts I could never get her to wear a collared shirt.” The dress code for K5 is just normal play clothes and so I was stuck in K5 mode I guess? Come on, throw me a bone. It was totally my fault though.

So this is where another friend provides an intervention for me. So sweet. She was near an Old Navy and offers to pick up some uniform stuff for Sophie. She takes pictures and sends them to me so I can not only see what the dress code looks like but I can choose what I want. Meanwhile Sophie and I are running around town looking for anything with a collar on it or with belt loops. We finally find a few things and between my friend bringing back belts and some denim shorts we are now rockin’ the school dress code!

And really people, I should know better, my son has attended this school for three years not to mention I’m married to the Spiritual Director of the school.

But hey….if we didn’t have screw up moments like these then our friends would be bored to tears.

Potty Mouth Pinocchio

My Mother- in- Law is so sweet and she stayed at our house and kept Mitchell and Sophie while we house hunted for two days. She took Mitchell to school, Sophie to ballet, helped with homework, etc. What a relief to know our kids were well taken care of while we were gone. We were so excited to come home and see everyone. After “Grandma” left and we were catching up with Mitchell he said, “I had a yellow day at school” (meaning he got in trouble). I asked him why and he said, “Mom, I said Jack-azz and that’s a cuss word, but I didn’t know it was a cuss word.” I said, “ Well, how did you use the word?” You know, just in case he was talking about a stubborn donkey pulling a plow. I had to give him the benefit of the doubt for a half second. Okay, so maybe it was more like denial. He said, “I drew a picture of a turkey and then held it up and said ‘does that look like a jack azz?’” After he was ratted out by another student (and I’m glad he was) he asked his teacher what a jack azz was.  As he was telling me all this I was thinking to myself: Do I really correct him on how to say it right? Do I just let him think that’s how you say it or what?

Something about correcting my son on how to say jack ass right felt very wrong. But rest assure I did explain that it was inappropriate to say and why.  I was sure this encounter with Mitchell’s first cuss word was the product of “public school” but when I asked him where he had heard that word before he said, “It’s on Pinocchio.” We just bought the movie for Sophie recently thinking it was a good old classic. I remember watching the movie and cringing at that part but was hoping neither of them would pick up on it but obviously I was wrong! And of course this would happen on the one day, out of the entire first semester, that his Grandmother picks him up from school. I guess it could be worse, though. It could have waited to come out on his first day of ChristianSchool in a few weeks!

Embarrassing Moments

Oh, just a few embarrassing moments to report this week……like when I found out Mitchell prayed out loud in Sunday School that his dog wouldn’t eat her poop. And what about Sophie going around the church Sunday night begging people to be her nursery worker so she wouldn’t have to stay in the service. Or how about yesterday when we’re at the Toy Store and I’m on one side of the store with Mitchell and come back to check in on Sophie only to find her stripped down to her skivies trying on dress up clothes. And we just aren’t even going to talk about how Mitchell brought up the fact that he had a chigger bite on his hmm hmm to the nurse and how when I did the how-dare-you-whisper-through-clenched-teeth talk to him after she left the doctor then came in for further questioning and examination!!!!! These are just a few of my most embarrassing things for this week.

And what about you? Did you have any embarrassing moments that could make me feel the slightest bit better?

My most embarrassing moment – on video

I will tell you in this space what I told our church two years ago as Randy and I faced the congregational interrogation while we were candidating for the Sr. Pastor position. A church member asked if I sang or played the piano. My response was this:

The most musical part of my entire self is my name. Melody. That’s as good as it gets when it comes to me being musical. I don’t play the piano or sing in the choir. I might could cut a rug but I didn’t exactly see that happening anytime soon. Ha! And I’m really actually kidding anyways. I’m no dancer. Although I do dance……… when nobody’s looking. Anyways, back to the point….

For years I faked singing alto in our church’s youth choir. I wasn’t even sure what “alto” meant but evidently I was one. See, I had to fake it because I was in love with a certain someone who was a pastor’s son and he was going to Bible college to get trained so he could be a pastor and everyone in their right mind knows that you can’t be a pastor’s wife unless you sing and play the piano. So I had to at least pretend like I could sing. And so I did.

That certain someone who is now my husband, Randy, never really had a clue about this until we were talking about marriage. I told him everything about not singing, playing the piano – all of it. I was sort of clinched up tight and had my eyes closed ready for the, “See ya later sistah! Nice knowin’ ya but I gotta have a woman with a set of mighty fine vocals in order to be in ministry.” But that didn’t happen. He was so okay with it. We talked it through and it was such a satisfying and sweet conversation. He just wanted me to be me. Awwww….that is so stinkin’ sweet! I’m about to get all mushy here. Pull yourself together, Melody.

Okay, I’m back.

Anyways……all this singing talk to say this: I still don’t sing in the choir or play the piano. Only once, in second grade, did I ever sing a solo and I’m pretty sure the entire thing was off key. And I’ve never considered having to sing in public for any reason and just the thought of having to sing in public has the potential of throwing this pastor’s wife into a holy schmoly panic attack.

And yet, this very thing happened to me on December 3rd!

My all time most embarrassing moment to date. I was called on to sing in front of 300 people. Into the live microphone. Eleven times over.

You can’t even imagine the fear struck pain I was in walking up on stage. I looked over at Randy and said, “This is my worst nightmare.” Randy shook his head in full awareness of my pain. Mitchell quickly assured me it was no nightmare and that I had to get up there. Sophie was cheering me on and I was planning my funeral because I knew I was about to die right there in front of all our church peoples. Randy ended up getting called on as well for “nine ladies dancing” and so we both made fools of ourselves, together. How romantic.

So here it is: the height and depth, or death, of my vocal career.  It was the intermission of a concert at our church. Twelve people were called do the Twelve days of Christmas and I was “two turtle doves” so I got to sing it twelve times into the mic!!!! Awwww……I’m dying all over again just thinking about it.  I’m on the end in the black and sing “two turtle doves” and Randy is in a black shirt on the other end.

(okay, so I can’t insert the video for some reason. If you’re dying to see my lack of musical abilities you can look it up on you tube: downeast boys 12 days of Christmas Community Baptist)

My husband called me at home a few days after this happened and said, “Get ready for your phone to ring. Someone put it up on Youtube and classes at the school are watching it.” And so the four of us sat down to watch this video together for the first time. We laughed so hard as a family. We had to watch several times because we were laughing and couldn’t hear it all. So looking back on it…….it really was funny and fun. But I wish to never ever ever do it again.

Have you ever been called on to do something embarrassing in front of people? Go ahead….dig it up from the depths of your past… will be therapeutic to share.