Face-Lifts, Boots, and a Life Lesson

Hi all!  Welcome to the new blog!  Ok, ok, so it's the same old blog.  But I thought it was time for a face lift.  I stumbled upon another mom using plain old Blogger (instead of one of the more fancy sites for actual serious bloggers) and thought it was super pretty!  So I clicked on the link at the top and found myself at Shabby Blogs!  What a cute site!  The best part is, all of their backgrounds, headers, and other stuff that I don't even know what to do with is FREE!  I was amazed.  It took quite a bit of playing around (and googling for help) to get it just right, but I think I've worked out the kinks and I'm super happy with the result.  It's nice to have a blog that more accurately depicts my favorite things :-)  OH!  And did you notice the name change?!  Story time... 

So when I first set out to start the blog, it was as a way of keeping everyone up to date on things happening with our family.  Specifically, my pregnancy.  So I thought it would be cute to have a name like "Birth of a Mom" or "Becoming a Mom" or something like that.  Guess what?  Those were all taken.  So, due to a lack of other options, I decided on the less-cute-but-still-alliterated Heather's Household Happenings.  I never really liked it all that much, but it worked and it wasn't taken.  I guess all the other Heather's out there in blog-land didn't like it either!  So then I got a tablet (the closest thing to a smart phone I can have right now!) and thought it would be cool to be on Twitter.  And then I was stuck on another name.  I did what all modern folks would do when faced with such a tough decision - I asked my facbook friends for their suggestions.  And a good friend suggested MamaMcDee.  And I loved it!  And it wasn't even taken!  So I snatched that baby right up before the next McMama could.  

When I finally decided to give my lovely little bloggy a face lift, I thought I'd see about changing the name, too.  Lo and behold, MamaMcDee: NOT TAKEN!  And so my little blog space is now known as Mama McDee.  Which is great.  But everyone knows that a good blog has got to have a good tag line!  Luckily for me, this is only a small, mediocre blog so a short, mediocre tag line would suffice.  So I thought long and hard for a bit and came up with something I actually really like: Becoming Mom, Becoming Me.  Because that's generally what I write about.  This is my journey to becoming a mom - because let's face it, that journey's pretty much never over - and realizing the ever changing concept of 'me.'  Story time...

The Hubs said something to me a little while ago that made me mad think.  I've decided that I am really super in love with boots.  Like the suede kind with the toggles on the side and a little bit of fuzzy sticking out the top.  

Not Uggs.  But I guess to a man, they are close enough to be considered the same thing.  I got a pair in black last spring and then splurged for a pair in grey and brown when Kohls had them on sale for Black Friday.  And I'm so excited that now I have a pair of boots for every outfit.  I really do love them.  Anyway, when I brought them home, Hubs looked at me and said, "I thought you hated uggs.  We had actual conversations in college about how people on campus would walk around in uggs and you thought it was so stupid and you swore you would never be caught dead in a pair."  I tried to explain that these are not uggs.  First of all, they were about a quarter of the price, plus they are in colors that actually match my outfit, plus I don't walk around with just a shirt and leggings and uggs and then complain about being cold because my boots should be keeping me so warm, plus I don't use them as snow boots and then complain when the super-expensive suede is ruined by the wet snow.  Clearly they are not the same thing.  And he replied with, "Yes, they're pretty much the same thing.  That you swore you'd never wear.  You're just not the same girl that I married."  Now, he said it with a smile and a laugh that let me know he wasn't upset or disappointed in me or considering leaving me because I bought three pairs of boots (like I said, it was a really good sale).  But that still kind of haunted me for a while.  Two days later, I finally came up with the perfect come-back.  (Isn't that always how it goes?)  And so I sat him down and I said, "Hey, remember the other day when you gave me a lecture about how now I wear boots and I used to hate uggs (which I still would NOT wear and these are NOT the same thing) and then you said that I'm not the same girl you married?  Remember that?  Yeah, well, you're right.  I'm not the same girl you married.  Now I'm a mom and I drive a mini-van and I wear scarves and my favorite color is purple and I like to wear boots.  Deal with it."  And he laughed and said, "They're still the same thing as uggs."  Clearly I made my point.  

Anyway, it got me to thinking about how who we are is so fluid and constantly changing.  I'm not the same person I was five and a half years ago.  That would be awful!  So often, especially as teenagers, we're told to just be yourself and don't let anyone change you!  There's such an awful stigma on change.  But it can be so, so good!  As long as that change comes as a form of growth and not regression, there's nothing to fear or resist.  Change!  Do it!  It's awesome!  Allow yourself to become a slightly different person from day to day.  Drop old bad habits and start new good ones.  Try a different style of hair cut or a new accessory.  Wear a color that you thought you could never pull off.  Do something that challenges you physically, emotionally, spiritually.  I remember the person that I was in High School and College and I'm so glad that I've allowed myself the grace of change.  I used to be painfully shy.  Painfully.  No one who meets me now believes that.  I've branched out and opened up and allowed myself to grow into someone who is, dare I say, outgoing!  And I wear scarves and boots and bright colors because that's what I like.  And I try really hard not to care what other people think about how I look.  (Except when they ask me if I'm pregnant.  That one's hard to ignore.)  

So I guess what I've been trying to say is that this blog is changing.  Just like me!  It isn't just about the things that happen in my house.  Or my pregnancy.  (Because NO, I'm not pregnant.)  It's about my journey as I become a mom to my awesome toddler and as I become more genuinely myself.  Whatever that means :-)

Let it Snow!

So it's the day before Thanksgiving and we're all home on a snow day.  Gotta love the weather.  We tried to make the best of it by bundling up and heading out to play in the snow!  What toddler doesn't love that?!  So check out our fun adventures...

All bundled up and ready to play!

Haha, I guess the snowflakes tickled!

Snow bunnies!

After this, Ellie fell down and got snow on her mittens, which she thought was 'dirt' and was then convinced that she needed to wash her hands.  

Andy: "Do you want to build a snowman?"  Ellie: "No."

So we sat on the porch, out of the snow, for a little bit and took some selfies...

Cheesies!

Then she discovered that there was snow 'dirt' on the porch and it needed to be cleaned off and put back into the yard with the rest of the snow...

"Clean up, clean up!"

And then we discovered her true calling ... shoveling!  She didn't want to stop even though her mittens were wet and her hands were cold so it was time to come in...

And then we came inside and could NOT get the snow gear off fast enough.  Snuggles in the bathroom in front of the heater were followed by a nice nap.  Ok, there was quite a bit of screaming and kicking in there, but she got to the nap part eventually.  Hope you all are enjoying your winter weather and have a safe and fabulous Thanksgiving!

A Lesson in Painting

(Hold on to your hats, folks, this is gonna be a cute one...)

So Andy has been working diligently on sprucing up our laundry room - to my very particular specifications.  A coworker of his redid his kitchen and gave us his old cabinets for free, so Andy repainted and put new hardware on them.  He's mixed up the perfect color of teal for the walls and even moved around some of the appliances to make a more functional space.  Now it's time to paint the trim before we replace the awful linoleum on the floor with slightly less awful linoleum.  Hey, we've got like a $5 budget to work with over here.  Anyway, he thought that this would be a good time to teach Ellie to paint.  The walls are getting repainted anyway and the floor is getting ripped up, so it really didn't matter how messy she was about it.  So, I give you Painting with Daddy 101...

A little baby yoga while Daddy gets more paint on the brush.

She was really concerned about her toes being dirty.

This one was Daddy's idea.

And it only took a 30 minute bath to get all the paint off!  Maybe someday soon we'll try full-body finger-painting :-)

Update: my dad just reminded me of one of MY first painting lessons just a few years ago...

REVIEW: Goodnight Ark by Laura Sassi, illustrated by Jane Chapman

Next up on my Z Blog Squad Recommended Reading list is Goodnight Ark, by Laura Sassi, illustrated by Jane Chapman.

Ok, the only way I can describe this book is ADORABLE!  It's geared toward younger children, but with paper pages, I wouldn't leave your toddler alone with it.  Unless you've got a super well-behaved toddler.  In which case, please call me so your kid can give lessons to my kid.

But I digress.

Everything about this book just screams adorable-ness.  The story is a classic - Noah's Ark.  But author Laura Sassi puts a super-cute bedtime spin on it.  The storm scares the animals and they can't sleep.  So what do they do?  Crawl in bed with Noah, of course!  Two by two they all pile in until .... well you'll just have to read it and see what happens.  

And no, I have no idea where MRS. Noah is during this whole story.  But I don't think that detracts from it at all.  Maybe Noah snores, so she had her own bed.  Maybe she was seasick.  MAYBE she was up late blogging.  Who knows.

The illustrations in this book are cute as well.  Jane Chapman makes all the animals look realistic, yet cuddly at the same time.  Check it out...

Don't you just want to snuggle those tigers?!  The snakes even look friendly!  But they're not overly cartoon-y.  It's a pretty nice balance, I think.

We love this book.  It's rapidly becoming a bedtime favorite.  Every time an animal comes in to crawl in bed with Noah, we like to give Ellie a chance to try and name the animal.  She's good with Elephant (Ef-fent) and Tiger, but we're still working on those Quail.  I really like that she can learn about a Bible story (from a different perspective, which I always enjoy) and also have an opportunity to practice things like animal names and sounds.  Multi-tasking, I think they call that.

Ok, final verdict: I love this book and I really recommend it - especially if you have a little one who likes to read stories before bed.  We did remove the dust jacket from this hardback copy, just to make it easier to handle, but we do that with all dust jackets, so it's not a negative to me.

Disclaimer: Zondervan provided me with a free copy of this book for reviewing purposes, but all opinions are 100% mine.

Mean Mommy

So the other week, someone told me I was a "mean mommy," and I vented about it on facebook.  Here's what's been happening since then...

First of all, I'd like to say that it was wrong of me to call out the specific person who made the comment.  I specified the individual because I thought it was an important detail in the story - I thought it made more sense why it was so hurtful when it was clarified who made the comment as opposed to being a random stranger somewhere.  But I was wrong.  And I'm sorry.

Ok next, I feel like I need to explain why I posted that in the first place.  I wasn't trying to complain - I was trying to vent a frustration.  Someone said something that hit a nerve and hurt my feelings deeply.  And all I could do about it was to go to work.  All I wanted was for a hug and someone to reassure me that I'm NOT actually a mean mommy.  And I was mad.  I was mad that someone who should have been in my corner was not.  And I was scared.  I was scared that I was messing up at everything and my daughter was going to be ruined by it.  You know, all those normal mom emotions that you go through on a regular basis.  So I went onto facebook and just got my feelings out.  Some people may say that facebook isn't an appropriate place to do that, but I kind of tend to disagree.  

You see, social media is a tricky beast.  It's like the force - it can be used for evil or for good.  You see it all the time.  My pastor has even preached about the dangers of social media in the hands of young people who are not properly equipped to handle that kind of far-reaching power.  And yet.  There is such a tremendous potential for good.  You've seen it on a large scale with "Prayers for so-and-so" pages or pages to raise money and support for families who have lost everything in any number of different tragedies.  These are times when the world rises up in support - sometimes around total strangers - and at least for a little while, restores a little faith in humanity.  Now please don't get me wrong - I am NOT comparing myself to the people who desperately need prayers or financial support because of tragedies in their lives.  I'm just saying that they are evidence as to how the power of social media can be put to good use on a very large scale.

What I think I'm trying to say is that I wasn't trying to complain, I was looking for support.  The kind of support that comes from other people who have been in these shoes of a mother of a precocious toddler and felt the fear and frustration that go along with that.  My facebook friends list is filled (mostly) with people who I actually consider to be friends and entirely with people that I know in real life.  When I post something, you can be assured that it is definitely something that I would say out loud.  I'm not any different online than I am in real life.  Facebook is like a big, digital reunion.  If we ever all found ourselves in the same room together, I'd still talk about my daughter a lot, both the good things and the frustrating things.  I'd talk about the wonderful things that my husband has done for me recently and also some of the ways that he drives me bonkers.  I'd tell you about the interesting things that happen at work and the fun things that we're going to do at church and I'd share some funny pictures and videos and quotes to make you think.  Anyway, my point is, that when something happens to bother me, I turn to my friends.  Just like pretty much everyone does.  It just so happens that most of my friends live in my computer.

And you know what happened?  It worked.  I was sad and frustrated and went to my friends and they totally delivered.  They reassured me, they commiserated with me, they encouraged me, they joked with me.  They did everything that you would hope friend would do.  And for that, I thank you.  Your support really did help me get through that day and you brought a smile to my face when all I wanted to do was cry.

But there was one friend who pushed me a little farther and saw a little deeper into my negativity.  We talked on the phone later that week and I had another good cry.  And, while not 100% of what she said was accurate to how I was really feeling, she did make me think.  A lot.  About my heart and my attitude in general.  And how I've just been feeling so worn out and emotionally tired lately.  It was a good talk.  She knows who she is and I hope she knows how grateful I am for her friendship and care.

So I've been thinking about this and God decided to get involved too.  Yesterday before church, someone said something hurtful to me again.  They didn't mean to be hurtful, but their comment really stung and stuck with me the whole morning.  They even apologized when they realized my feelings were hurt, and I laughed it off, but the pain didn't go away.  A lot of people said some very nice things to me yesterday (I sang a solo during the choir number), but on the way home, all I could think about was that hurtful comment.  And then I read this quote on my twitter... 

"If God forgives us, then we should forgive ourselves.  Otherwise, it is almost like we 

have set up ourselves as a higher tribunal than Him." 

(@CSLewisDaily)

That really stuck out to me.  I don't know if I've thought about it like that before.  So I retweeted it and put it up on my white board at work.  And then today I kept thinking about it (after really wanting to go on facebook and vent about this latest hurtful comment) and realized that it goes deeper than just that.  God doesn't just forgive me, he also forgives the people who hurt me.  If someone said something hurtful to my child, I would be furious.  Is that how God feels when someone hurts my feelings?  I would imagine so.  And yet He forgives them.  So why shouldn't I?  Why keep holding onto those hurtful words when He's already let them go.  If He doesn't hold that grudge, then why do I think I have a right to?  There's such a freedom in that thought.  It's not going to be easy to put into practice, but I think realization is the first step.

And then Ellie and I got home and I put her down for her nap (not without a fight, which left me feeling weary again) and I got to work on the next book reviews for Zondervan.  I sat down and cracked open a new devotional by Ann Voskamp (don't worry, the review will be coming soon) and the devotion that the book fell open to said this...

"Unless we make it a habit to give thanks, we habitually give our family grief.  

Unless we consistently speak praise, we consistently speak poison.  

Unless we are intentional about giving God glory throughout the day, 

our days unintentionally give way to grumbling." 

(One Thousand Gifts Devotional, pg. 133)

Aaaaaand that one hit me like a ton of bricks.  That's the second part of the problem I've been having.  When you give it an inch, the poison of negativity will take a mile.  You cannot let it in.  No matter what.  

"People can tame all kinds of animals, birds, reptiles, and fish, but no one can tame the tongue.  It is restless and evil, full of deadly poison.  Sometimes it praises our Lord and Father, and sometimes it curses those who have been made in the image of God.  And so blessing and cursing come pouring out of the same mouth.  Surely, my brothers and sisters, this is not right!"

(James 3:7-10, NLT)

So that's challenge number two for me today.  Two in one day.  That's a lot.  Gee thanks, God.  

Anyway.  All that to say that these are things that I'm going to be working on.  And I'm telling you, because I still think of social media as a giant support system.  And I'm hoping you'll help me stick to it.  

REVIEW: Love Letters from God by Glenys Nellist, illustrated by Sophie Allsopp

Ok, so this is a few days late on my goal of one review per week leading up to Christmas, but I think you'll find it was worth the wait.  The next title I had the privilege to review is Love Letters from God, which was written by Glenys Nellist and illustrated by Sophie Allsopp.

This book is phenomenal.  I can't say enough good things about it.  It's definitely not intended for a very young audience.  It says right on the front that it's a "lift-the-flap" book, which my Ellie loves.  But these aren't the kinds of flaps where animals peek out from behind bushes.  This is definitely geared toward an audience of at least age 6 and up.  This book contains 18 Bibles stories (9 old testament and 9 new) told in a brand new way.  The stories are written in a story-book style, reading almost like a fairy tale.  So not terribly different than a story Bible.  And somewhere on each page spread is a little section labelled "God's Wonderful Words to You" that shows the actual scripture that corresponds with the story.  That's nice to help connect the story to the actual Bible for older kids.

But then there are the flaps.  Oh, the flaps.

You open each one and inside is a letter, written from the perspective of God, telling about how He relates this story to YOU.  Never as a child do I remember learning that the Bible was for ME.  It was a book full of stories (and extra boring stuff) that would teach me how to be a good Christian, but never once did I think about putting MYSELF into the story.  These "love letter" flaps do just that.  Each one has a line that can be personalized with the child's name and sheds a whole new perspective on each story.  That's one of the reasons that I put the age so high - because while kids as young as 4 might like this book, I think older kids are the ones who will actually get the most out of it.  I also love the titles of the individual stories - calling the Crucifixion "The Saddest Story" and the Resurrection "The Happy Ending" is just so poetic to me.

*Spoiler Alert* 

The very last page of the book is super special.  There's an invitation - and yes, it's that kind of an invitation.

But it feels so right for it to be there.  It makes so much sense in the context of the letters in the book.  And then there is a space for the child to write their own love letter to God.  It's just such a great way to bring the book to an end.  Because the Resurrection really isn't the ending, although it is quite happy.  There's more to do and really finishes up bringing the child INTO the story and makes it their own.

OH and I almost forgot to mention the amazing illustrations!  They are gorgeous!  Honestly, there are so many layers and textures and tiny interesting details - I could look at them all day.  

Ok, enough gushing.  Final verdict: I LOVE THIS BOOK.  I've been telling people at church that we seriously need to give one to every child that walks in our front doors.  Because it will change the way they think about the Bible.  And it just might do the same for their parents that read it with them.  That's how good it is.  You really can't even appreciate it unless you see it in person.  Seriously - get it for your elementary-aged child or grandchild for Christmas.  You will not regret it.

Disclaimer: Zondervan provided me with a free copy of this book for reviewing purposes, but all opinions are 100% mine.

REVIEW: Pirates on the Farm by Denette Fretz, illustrated by Gene Baretta

I have a PILE of amazing books from Zondervan that I am so excited to review because they're all awesome!  I'm going to try to do one a week in preparation for Christmas!  First up is Pirates on the Farm, by Denette Fretz and illustrated by Gene Baretta.

Let me start off by saying that this book is FANTASTIC.  Before I tell you why, let me make it clear that this book is WAY out of Ellie's age range.  There's a fair amount of text on each paper page.  Hopefully she will soon be able to be trusted with paper page books, but still not quite yet.  And she's still too little to 'get' the moral of the story.  I'd say ages 4 and up will appreciate this story.  I won't put a top age on that because even I liked it and I'm 27 and a half.

Now, what makes it so great?  Oh, just everything.  I love the premise of the book - a group of pirates decides to retire and move to the country, next door to a down-to-earth farm family.  The kids struggle with how to 'love their neighbor' when their neighbors are so odd.  The story is silly, without resorting to childish or inappropriate humor.  The illustrations are vibrant and beautiful, but perfectly reflect the story's silliness without looking like a child or amateur drew them.  And the author does a fantastic job of driving the biblical point home without beating you over the head with scripture.

Check out the illustrations and my two other favorite 'features' of this book...

The bottom left image is found at the beginning of the book.  A cast of characters.  Like the maps at the beginning of Lord of the Rings or Chronicles of Narnia, I love this addition because it really helps you connect with the story a lot faster.  The author doesn't have to take extra time explaining who is who in the pictures when there's a map right in the beginning!  It's also helpful for parents to be able to answer the inevitable toddler questions.

The bottom right image is found at the end of the book.  It's a letter from the author to the parents.  She tells about her inspiration for writing the book AND empathy for the parents on how to teach these tough subjects to your kids.  If nothing else, it just makes you feel good and it was incredibly thoughtful of the author to include.  This book was clearly written with both the children AND the parents in mind and that's part of what makes it so refreshing.  I think the right pastor (*cough*dad*cough*) could preach a sermon using this book and pull it off quite well.  Yes, it's that good.

Ok, final verdict: I love this book.  I can't wait to share it with Ellie when she's old enough to care.  Right now, she likes looking at the pictures, but I don't trust her with the pages, so we put it on the special shelf.  But I can't recommend this book more highly.  It's adorable and silly and teaches such a fantastic message that you cannot overemphasize - love your neighbor!

Disclaimer: Zondervan provided me with a free copy of this book for reviewing purposes.  All opinions are 100% mine.

FYI: BOYS HATE TO SING!

So, in case you didn't know this, in addition to being a mommy-wife-secretary-blogger-taste tester (a what?), I also teach private music lessons (all piano students right now) two nights a week.

 I currently have 10 students and they are some of the best and most hilarious kids you'll ever meet.  And just last week, I FINALLY upgraded to having 2 boys!  One is in second grade and one is in third.  Last night, I had this conversation with one of them....

Me: Ok, so I want you to sing the note names along with me...

Boy: NO!

M: Let me guess, you don't like to sing?

B: NO I HATE SINGING!

M: Yeah, I hear that from a lot of boys and I've never been able to figure out why.  Why do you hate singing so much?

B: I DON'T KNOW I JUST DO!

M: Well that's not a good enough reason, so you're going to have to sing this with me...

B: NO!  I HATE SINGING!  I JUST DON'T WANT TO TELL YOU WHY!

M: Ok... I've always just been really curious why boys don't like to sing, are you sure you won't tell me?

B: NO!  IT'S A SECRET!

M: Ok, then you don't have to tell me.  And you don't have to sing.  Just SAY the note names in the correct rhythm.

B: I'M NOT TELLING YOU!  

M: That's ok, you don't have to.

B: IT'S JUST THAT IT'S A WORD THAT EVERYONE KNOWS EXCEPT FOR MAYBE BABIES.  SO LIKE PEOPLE WHO CAN'T TALK.  BUT EVERYONE ELSE KNOWS IT.

M: Ok, I officially have no idea what you're talking about.

B: I HATE SINGING!  BUT I CAN'T SAY THE WORD WHY!

M: Ok, that's fine, you don't HAVE to sing this, just say the right notes in the right rhythm with me.

B: Oh, ok then.  G-A-B-B-...

To protect his identity (since he was obviously crazy sensitive about this issue), I'm not going to tell you if it was the second or the third grader.  But does anyone have ANY idea what the heck he was talking about?  I told Andy about it and he was just as confused as I was.  But then again he was in special choir as a kid, so maybe he was left out of the secret word that everyone knows but no one can say that makes boys hate singing.

Never a dull moment around here!

Also, you might want to check on how many times you say 'ok' in the same conversation.  Wow.

Subpoena

(This is the ridiculous second chapter in my on-going stolen wallet saga.  If you haven't already, read this post first...)

So the other Wednesday I had choir practice, just like every Wednesday.  On my way out, I checked my phone to find I had a voicemail.  I figured it was Andy, calling to ask me to come home quickly to help put Ellie to bed.  Not out of the ordinary.  But it wasn't Andy.  

It was a strange voice that I didn't recognize.  Sounded like an older man.  Trying to deliver a subpoena to me.  Needs to set up a time to meet.  So I called him back and tried to arrange a time that I would be home that he could come to my house.  He was very hard to understand.  I still couldn't understand his name, but caught the word Constable.  Is that even still a thing in the US?   He seemed ticked off that he'd have to drive to the next town over to deliver this piece of paper.  So I finally gave up and just told him when and where I'd be at work and that seemed to make him happier.  He said he'd be there the next day.

And then I went to walmart and bought ice cream and cheetos.  I'm not even joking.

I cried on the way home.  And I'm not even really sure why.

That night, I couldn't sleep.  I had nightmares that the person who had called was not who he said he was.  That he was the wallet-thief and he had set up this meeting to get me back for getting him arrested.  Or that he had called to find out when I'd be out of the house so he could come and rob me further or do horrible things to my family.  This wasn't even a violent crime.  I have no idea why my brain freaked out so badly.

The next day, I waited on the edge of my chair for the doorbell to ring.  Around 11:30, the custodians left for the day.  Around 1:00 the Pastor left for a visit.  Now I was alone in the building.  Just me and my wild imagination and tendency toward anxiety attacks.  Yeah, that's a recipe for a highly productive afternoon at work.  Finally the doorbell rang.  And, sure enough, it was an older man with a gun.  And a badge.  The badge means he's safe, right?  So I said a quick prayer and answered the door.  Yep, it was the Constable.  Still didn't catch his last name, but it hardly matters anymore.  He handed me the subpoena and then was on his merry way to deliver the next one.

That was easy.

It said I had to appear at the preliminary hearing to testify on behalf of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania in their case against the man who stole my wallet.  The hearing was scheduled for the following Tuesday at 2 pm.  Who gives 4 days notice for a hearing in the middle of the work day?!  I've got a job and a toddler to take care of.  And then you're going to have the Constable tell me that if I don't show for the hearing, I can be arrested?!  Ugh.  I can kind of see why people dislike the justice system in general.  So I made a quick call to Andy to ask him to take off work on Tuesday afternoon.  Called my mom to see if she could keep Ellie a little later than usual.  Left a note for the boss to say I'd need to leave early that day.  Ok, done.  Everything's taken care of.  Now all that's left is to wait around and try and figure out what to say at this hearing.

And more importantly, I had to figure out what to wear.

Seriously, I've watched enough cop and lawyer shows (Law & Order or Judging Amy, anyone??) to know that it matters what witnesses wear.  Judges care, lawyers care, everyone cares.  It matters.  So that was the next object of my freaking out.  What do I wear.  I put out a plea for advice on facebook and got mixed results.  Jeans are fine.  Wear a skirt.  Closed toed shoes.  Be comfortable.  Be confident.  (My sincere thanks to all who bothered to answer my silly question - I really did appreciate your advice!)  I was still confused and unsure.  So at church on Sunday, I asked a friend who is a paralegal and her husband is a lawyer.  I figure she's been to hearings before and would certainly know.  Evidently, since it was just a preliminary hearing at a district magistrate, work clothes would be fine.  So Monday night, I laid out my clothes - a little dressier than usual for work, but nothing I haven't worn there before.  

Tuesday morning, I changed my clothes no less than 8 times.  I wound up wearing the one I had picked on Monday.  Went to work and tried to focus.  Didn't really work.  1:30 finally rolled around and Andy got there to go over with me.

Have I ever mentioned how wonderful he is?

We got there and signed in and were immediately greeted by the outstanding officer who worked my case.  He took us back into a room and I met a second officer.  We were told that this wallet-guy was caught by this second officer for the same type of offense in this town.  And by State Police stationed a few towns over.  And in another county.  In his words, "This guy's in a world of trouble."  

He had been in custody since they picked him up in July.  

So he was *not* going to be coming to my work or my home or anywhere near me.

That should have made me feel better.  Or at least silly for freaking out.  But it didn't, really.

The officer briefly told me about what the preliminary hearing is for.  I'm going to lay out the details here so that maybe it can be helpful to someone else who doesn't know what to expect.  The preliminary hearing is just to determine whether or not the police have sufficient evidence to send this person to trial.  The police have to show the judge what evidence they have, including statements from victims and/or witnesses.  Then it would be up to the judge to decide if the case goes to the DA for prosecution or if they need more evidence.   Or the defendant can 'waive' their right to a preliminary hearing, which is not the same as confessing, but just says that they agree that there's enough evidence to go to trial.

We went into the 'courtroom', which was basically just a big conference room full of chairs with a big desk at the front.  And we waited.  The defendant's attorney came in and introduced himself.  A public defender.  Part of me sarcastically wondered why he hadn't saved any of his hard-stolen money to afford a better lawyer.  And then the door opened, and they brought in the wallet-guy.

I'll never forget it.  

He wore the orange jumpsuit and shackles, just like every cop show you've ever seen.  I guess sometimes they are pretty accurate.  The shackles jingled when he shuffled across the floor.  He had to cross in front of us to get to his seat.  He seemed really tall.  He didn't hold his head down, like you would expect.  He looked out at us, one by one.  First the older lady in the corner.  Then the gentleman behind me.  And then me.  I tried to keep my face even and expressionless, but if you've ever met me you know that it probably didn't work.  My face is an open book.  So I'm sure he saw how scared I was.  But I also hope he saw how sad I was.  For him, for us, for the whole thing.  He wore a face of stone.  Not mean.  Not sad.  Not scared.  Not anything.  Just blank.

When he was finally seated, the judge came in.  He wasn't wearing a robe.  I was kind of bummed about that.  I guess District Magistrates don't get robes.  He wasn't even wearing a suit.  Just a striped shirt and tie.  Made me feel better about my khakis.  We still had to stand up when he came in.  He was seated and the defending attorney said that they wanted to waive.  

And then we were dismissed.

Just like that it was over.  Well, sort of.  My police officer friend told me that now the case will go to the DA's office and they might try to work out a plea deal with him.  If they do, great and it'll be over.  If they don't, then the case will go to trial.  Which means I'll get another subpoena and will probably actually have to testify.

But we'll worry about that if and when I get another call from Constable Whats-his-name with another subpoena for me.  For now, this is the last chapter in the stolen wallet saga.  And for that, I couldn't be happier.

I'm still surprised at how much this stupid little crime affected me.  I mean, this happened the end of May and here it is, middle of September, and I'm still a little freaking out about it.  I don't say this to get you to feel bad for me.  I'll be fine.

But some people won't.

Some people have much, much bigger, more depraved, violent crimes committed against them.  And they survive.  And go to trial.  And testify.  And some even manage to do so with such an appearance of grace and dignity.  Teenage girls go to court and testify against the boys who raped them.  And I freaked out about what to wear.  

Not sure what to do about that, but it seems like something important to realize and acknowledge.  No matter how small, it's never easy to be the victim of a crime.  I'll gladly testify to that.

Pinned it... Chicken & Dumplings

For the next installment of Pinned It, I bring you, Slow Cooker Chicken & Dumplings!  Fall is right around the corner and I love me a good hearty soup to warm with in the evenings.  But with work, teaching lessons, and a toddler I don't have a whole lot of time to whip everything up from scratch.  So a while ago, I stumbled upon this gem of a pin...

Mmm, looks tasty, doesn't it??  I've made this a couple of times now, and it is getting better and better each time.  I like the pin itself because of its utter simplicity.  No huge long story before you get to the recipe, no pictures of every. single. step.  I mean, pictures of difficult steps can be helpful, but sometimes it gets to be too much and it actually makes it harder to follow because you're constantly scrolling.  Anyway... this one is compact enough that I can display the ingredient list and all the instructions at the same time on my tablet to sit on the counter next to me while I'm cooking.  Makes it SO convenient.  Also, should have bought the tablet a LONG time ago.  But that's another story...

I followed this recipe pretty closely, with 2 adjustments.  First, I didn't us canned Cream of Chicken soup.  I hate the stuff.  I found a recipe on pinterest (where else?!) for a Cream of Something soup mix to replace all those Cream-of-Something soups in recipes.  So I use one recipe of that instead of one can.  Also, I put in some peeled, cubed potatoes to make it more like the "Slippery Chicken Pot Pie" that we love so dearly in this neck of the woods.  Basically, it's chicken & dumplings with potatoes it in.  The potatoes make it so much better.  They were always my favorite part growing up.

Now here's the thing - I'm not a huge fan of how these 'dumplings' turn out.  Maybe it's because I'm used to the homemade 'noodles' from our chicken pot pie.  But those take a LOT of work.  The biscuits are SO much easier.  But they're too thick that they wind up gooey inside.  So I'm working on a method of cutting them length-wise as well as into pie-shaped pieces.  I haven't perfected it yet, but like I said, it's getting closer.

Overall though, we really like this recipe.  I personally think it comes of a bit saltier than I prefer - definitely more salty than a homemade version would.  Probably due to the bouillon in the Cream-of-Something soup (which still has a heck of a lot less sodium than a store-bough cream soup).  Hubby doesn't seem to mind, but he grew up putting salt on EVERYTHING, while I grew up putting salt on practically nothing.  So our tastes differ there.

Final Verdict: it's taking some refining but we do enjoy this one on occasion.  I don't get asked to make it on a weekly basis, but it satisfies my pot-pie craving in the dead of winter, so that's good enough for me!

REVIEW: Noah and the Mighty Ark by Rhonda Gowler Greene, Illustrated by Margaret Spengler

Another book that I have the pleasure of reviewing for Zonderkidz is Noah and the Mighty Ark by Rhonda Gowler Greene, illustrated by Margaret Spengler.

This book is a sweet, rhyming retelling of the ever-popular Noah's Ark story.  It doesn't vary much from the actual Biblical account, aside from leaving out the less entertaining bits like the dimensions of the ark itself.  Each phrase is written in a rhyme, making it a little more fun to read and more fun for kids to hear.  I'd say it's appropriate for kids of all ages, but with the paper pages, it's best to keep out of the hands of kids who are still rough with books, like my 19 month old.

The illustrations are ... odd.  Let me explain.  They are huge, full-page illustrations that are vibrant and cartoon-ish.  They seem like they should be fantastic.  However, they're fuzzy.  Blurry.  Ever-so-slightly out of focus.  It seems to be on purpose and not a printing error, as the text printed on each page is crisp and clear.  Looking at this illustrations for too long actually almost gives me a headache, as I feel like my contact prescription needs to be adjusted!  Here's an example of the full page illustrations and then a closeup of the clear text with the out-of-focus illustration...

I don't understand why they would do this to such vibrant, entertaining pictures.  Maybe they think that kids enjoy a softened look?  Maybe they think it looks more like stuffed animals?  I have no clue.  But I really can't read this one too often because of it.  Ellie doesn't seem to mind, though.  I have neutral feelings about this book, overall.  It's really cute and I like the rhyming aspect of the story and the big, bright colors of the pictures.  However, the out-of-focus aspect bothers me.  I can neither recommend or (what's the opposite of recommend???) not recommend this book.

Disclaimer: Zondervan provided me with a free copy of this book for reviewing purposes.

Victim

So, I think it's about time to tell this story.

I was the victim of a crime.

Wow, that felt weird to type.  Let's start back at the beginning...

So I work as the secretary at our church.  I'm there every morning.  Our church is pretty great.  Well, we like it.  It drives us crazy sometimes and every so often we get disheartened and think maybe we should just leave and find somewhere else that's going to be more supportive of new ideas and have more children's programs and a more lively young adult ministry to feed all of us better.  And then we remember that if we think there should be more of this or that, then WE should be the ones to fix it, not just abandon ship and leave this family to rot.  And so we stay, and work, and become encouraged again that there is hope for this little congregation.  And one of the things this church does well is open its doors to those in need.  We partner with a local special needs school to provide a place for lifeskills training for their students.  Every Thursday, this group of students comes in and gets hands-on experience with cleaning, interacting with the employees here, and they even go grocery shopping and use our kitchen to cook their own lunch.  They are a fantastic group of kids and teachers that really brighten up the week.  I always miss them over the summer break.  

Unfortunately, we're located fairly downtown in a medium sized town with increasing problems with drugs and homelessness.  There's a great place in town where people can go for assistance, but there are always those who just 'work the system' and come around asking all the churches for money.  Some of them are truly in need and some are just looking for money.  My heart is torn about this issue.  Because everyone who comes around asking for money does have a need that is very real to them.  Whether or not the rest of society sees it as a legitimate need is another thing altogether.  Anyway.  We have a policy of keeping our doors locked at all times.  We have a female pastor and female secretary (that's me!) and elderly custodians that are only there 2 days a week or so.  Basically, none of us want strangers wandering through our building.  And it happens when the doors are unlocked.  A lot.  So if the doors could just stay locked all the time, we'd be good to go.  But a lot of people have keys.  A lot.  And most of them just don't understand either how or why to lock the door behind them, even when they're inside the building.  And despite all the education we've been trying to do, the problem persists.

SO... combine all of these facts into the perfect storm.  A Thursday in May, the group of students was here, and the elderly custodian left the back door unlocked.  Now, we all work in a church.  Where the doors are supposed to be locked.  So I had been a little lax with securing my personal belongings.  Meaning that I left my purse sit on my desk.  I spend most of the working day in my office anyway.  But on this particular Thursday, the pastor called me into her office for a meeting that was only supposed to take 5 minutes.  Because the students were there, and I know that sometimes the teachers need to borrow a post-it or a pen, I left my office door open.  You can see where this is going, can't you?  The closed-door meeting with the pastor lasted 45 minutes instead of 5.  Her door doesn't have a window in it - for privacy.  And by the time we got done, it was time for me to head home.  I hopped in the car and drove straight home, but was starving.  So I stopped at the gas station down the street from my house to grab a snack.  I reached in my purse and - yep - my wallet wasn't there.  I picked up my phone (which WAS in my purse, go figure) and called the pastor and had her look around my office.  No wallet.  So then I told her that I knew for a fact that it was in there when I got to work that morning and reluctantly asked her to call the teacher of the special-needs students, fearing that one of them had taken it.  I hate to admit it, but that was my first thought.  I decided not to call the police or the credit card companies because if one of those kids had it, then they weren't going to do anything with it anyway.

So I go home, without my snack, and sit and wait for the pastor to call me back.  She doesn't.  So I tried calling her and get no response.  I even resorted to calling her cell phone.  Nothing.  Now I'm getting worried.  And then my phone rings.  It's the credit card company fraud alert department.  There's been some questionable activity on my card and they want to know if I can verify it.  Well no, I can't.  I didn't go to that pizza place, or that gas station, OR that spa (of all places).  Cancel the card.  Cancel everything.  My wallet was not lost or taken by mistake, it was stolen.  Along with 2 other items from my purse that looked like they could have held money or other valuables.  So now I'm panicking.  I called Andy to try and let him know that all of our cards are cancelled and can't get ahold of him.  He's out in the field and his cell phone battery is dead.  Now I'm panicking and furious.  And Ellie's awake and screaming and I'm still trying to cancel cards.  So I call my mom and have her come over to entertain Ellie while I try desperately to get all the cards cancelled even though I'm not the primary person on the account and no, I can't get ahold of him, and no I don't know my driver's license number because that was stolen too.  Eventually I have to drive to my actual bank branch to close that card because I can't verify my identity over the phone.  I cried the entire time I was there.  The ladies were really nice.

Eventually Andy got home and everything was finished being cancelled.  After they emptied out my personal checking account that I use solely for managing the finances for the music studio.  They went to an ATM.  Which means they had my PIN.  No, it wasn't written on my card and no, it wasn't something that was easy to guess.  Then I had to file the police report.  The officer was super nice.  A blessing, actually.  Christian man, very encouraging, and very empathetic to the situation.  And then we had to pick up all the pieces.  

I ended up writing a bunch of bad checks the week after the incident because the bank told me that the ATM charge didn't 'post', but then it did and wasn't fixed so my account was empty and I wrote checks without knowing that.  So when I got my new card in the mail, I figured I'd check my online account balance before activating it.  It was negative over $300.  I nearly threw up.  It took weeks of careful monitoring and visits to the bank, but I think it's all straightened out now.  I had to buy a new license and still haven't replaced the cute purple 31 wristlet that matched my diaper bag.  

But I'm pretty much over it.  

It's been over two months and everything's totally cool now.  People at church have finally stopped asking me if I've 'found' my wallet (um no, I didn't lose it) and they've been better about the door locking policy.  Life is pretty much back to normal.

Then this past Friday I got a letter in the mail from the District Attorney.  I nearly threw up.  Evidently, they got the guy.  And he's been charged.  Identity theft.  Theft by unlawful taking.  Credit Card fraud.  Well, great.  Right?  I mean, that's what he did, so it's great that he's being charged with it.  Good job, Mr. Policeman.  You got him.

But now I have to be involved.  I have to fill out all this paperwork for the D.A. and the judge to review before sentencing.  I have to list all of my losses.  Ok, that's not too hard.  I have to fill out a paper stating whether or not I agree that he could be granted probation instead of jail time.  Ok, I think I can figure that out.  But then I have to fill out a Victim Statement.

A Victim Statement.  

I guess that means I'm a victim.  The letter even starts with "We're very sorry that you were the victim of a crime."  I never identified myself as that before.  I never even thought of it as a crime.  How stupid is that?  I've just been calling it "the incident" or "that time my wallet was stolen," but never a crime.  It just didn't seem like that big of a deal.  But now I have to write this statement telling all about how the crime has impacted me and how I go about my daily life.  And the worst part?  They're going to read it.  And it will actually matter.  

So what do I say??  

I have no idea.  I mean, yeah it sucked.  But it's not like I was injured or have been harassed or physically threatened.  I'm fine.  Yes, I'm more careful about where I put my purse in my office.  Yes, I shut my (always locked) office door whenever I step out.  Yes, I jump a little every time I hear someone walking through the building and I know I should be alone.  But none of those things are a big deal.  I'm just getting on with life. 

So what do I say??

Dear Judge, 

I'm fine.  Do whatever you want to the guy.  

Love, Heather.

Dear Judge, 

Life sucked for a little bit there.  And 31 retired that print.  Can I have $30 to buy a new wallet?  And the new license cost me $27.50.  And I had a $25 Kohls gift card in there that was a birthday gift that I never got to use.  And a $5 Panera gift card that I was saving for one of those days when you just really need a giant cinnamon roll (which, ironically, was the very day my wallet was stolen).  And $5 cash.   

Love, Heather.

Dear Judge,

I lost sleep just trying to figure out how to fill out this paperwork.  Figure out how much that's worth and then give me that.

Love, Heather.

Dear Judge,

I'm a Christian and Jesus said to forgive those who wrong you.  So I don't want anything from the guy.

Love, Heather

Dear Judge,

My whole church family has been impacted by this crime.  We're all victims.  We're all shocked and unnerved that someone would walk into a place of worship and take something that they would have been given if they had only asked.  Help this man with whatever problem he has and please tell him that church starts at 10 am on Sunday.  

Love, Heather

Seriously.  What do I say??  I only have 28 days left to figure it out.  I wonder if lost sleep accrues interest?

All of June

So I know it's literally the middle of July, but summer has been really busy for us this year.  So here's what we did for the entire month of June...

First we celebrated our 5th Anniversary!  Here's a picture taken on the day of our first date...

We were so cute, even before our first 'official' date!

A little back story... We were both working at a summer camp up in the mountains and the week beforehand, it rained like crazy.  Really crazy.  And the creek was really really high.  So a few of us got this crazy idea to take an old mattress and raft down the creek.  We did get permission to do it, but had to wait until the weekend, when there were no campers around.  Well by then the creek had gone down significantly and the rafting didn't really work.  On our way past the maintenance building, we saw this old kayak just sitting around, so we grabbed it for some more creek fun.  Andy and his college buddy turned camp counselor Micah were the ones rafting and good friend Jackie and I were walking along laughing at them the whole time.  This was Saturday afternoon and our date was schedule for supper time, so I was avoiding getting wet/creek-y so that I could just change clothes and be ready to go.  Well somehow Mr. Andy convinced me to climb in the kayak to float around the water hole.  That's when Jackie snapped that adorable picture (THANKS, JACKIE!!).  And then, he flipped it.  See the arm back behind me?  Yep, he just pulled and flipped it right over.  I barely had time to hold my breath.  And I was soaked head to toe.  So I had to go straight back to my room and completely shower, re-dress, re-do my hair and everything.  Which made me about an hour late for our date.  But it was HIS fault.  I just wanted to clear all that up.  So that was 8 years ago.  

And then 5 years ago we did this...

This was right after Pastor John introduced us as 'Mr. & Mrs. McDonald'

Awww, how sweet, right?  And to celebrate 5 years of marriage bliss and 8 years of dating, I finally climbed back in a kayak with Mr. Andy.  I was understandably nervous.  But we paddled around for an hour and stayed in the kayak the whole time.  I won't say we stayed dry, because it's surprising how wet you get just from paddle splashes, but he did NOT flip me this time.  So here are some pictures from our anniversary trip to the lake...

Got in without flipping - that's a good start!

Photobomb Tree

Dude that tree is almost falling over! 

Pretty lake, even though it was cloudy and cool all day.

Mandatory feet in kayak photo.

Big rocks - Photobomb Andy's paddle

A sailboat!

On our way back to the dock and we're still dry!  

Back on land and still [mostly] dry!  Yay us!

Then we had a nice little picnic.

And went for a nice little hike.

And stopped here for ice cream on the way home.

Haven't had one of these in years!  It was just as good as I remember!

Best ice cream ever!  And a wonderful way to celebrate 5 fabulous years!

So then, the next day, we celebrated Father's Day with both of our dads at the same time.  If you couldn't tell from our luxury anniversary celebration, we're not really rolling in the dough right now.  So for Father's Day we had both dads over for a cookout and pool party.  And my mom came too because why would we make her stay home alone?!  That's terrible!  So here's our fun pictures from that...

Playing Ball with Pappy

My new favorite picture

Happy Daddy's Day!

Warming up with Gramma

Hanging out with Grampy

And then it was time for VBS to consume my life for the rest of the month.  Literally.  It only lasted 3 days, but was a super awesome time that was worth all the work.  And it ended like this...

We only had 16 kids instead of the 30 I was hoping for, but they ALL came for church on Sunday and stayed for lunch afterward just so that they could hit me in the face with almost 20 pies. 

Totally worth it.