I should say nothing at all.

When we were dating, Big Hunk & I used to do this cheesy thing. If a song was playing on the radio that was either our song or was gushy enough to come in second, one of us would call the other and play it through the phone. Without speaking, without introduction. Many times did I pick up the phone to hear Savage Garden, Aaron Neville, or the occasional Shania Twain on the other end (for that latter one, I think he'll kill me for sharing).

But that was years ago. Now the hundreds of times we call one another each day are usually to vent about the kids (on my part) or everything else under the sun (his part).

So I didn't expect it tonight when I pick up the phone to hear Ronan Keating crooning over the hum of the car.

Man I love that song.

Funny thing though. The title of the song is called "When You Say Nothing At All". Do you think BH is trying to tell me something?

I love boxes so much I want to be a hobo.

Have I mentioned how much I adore moving?

Seriously. Like I could do this every 6 months and be the happiest woman on earth. Not just happy. Herbal Essences happy.

Oh yeah.

Give me a box and some tape, and let me go to town. I'll go through dusty stacks of paper that I haven't seen since the last time I moved (in this case, being 8 months). I'll find piles of kids' drawings that were created so long ago that I can't even tell which kid it was; let alone why I kept it.

I'll come across random cords that seem to have no home, yet put fear in my heart every time I think of just tossing 'em. And pieces to board games? Brother let me tell you, I LOVE finding those little colored pegs under cabinets and in corners. To games we no longer own. Puzzle pieces? Bring it on. Broken crayons. Marker-less lids that only make me wonder what piece of furniture it's counterpart is hiding in. Bleeding, lonely markers hiding in my couch.

Oh yes. I love moving.

And the sneezing. Because no matter how often I felt like I was cleaning, I clearly was flat-out delusional.

Home is where the stank is.

Thanks Mandy for being my only follower! Guess no one wants to follow a train-wreck. :p

I've been wanting to sit and blog for several days now, but it seems that first part ("sit") is pretty darn near impossible. I actually got slammed with a migraine last night. I even thought I was going to die on the way home. LOL Funny now. But we were on our way home from the kids' Awana and I was driving. I was developing a headache on the left side of my head (top) and the left side of my face started tingling. I know- a stroke, right? (I purposely kept using my left hand to make sure this wasn't the case.) Finally I felt like I couldn't focus on the road ahead of me and was getting lightheaded. I pulled over on the shoulder and asked Big Hunk to drive. I was scared. But I felt better after migraine medicine and some sleep.

Until today anyway. My migraine started to come back and I had to nip it in the bud with medicine and lots of prayers. I think it was the latter that did it. I haven't had a migraine in like 7 months (since the day before we left for vacation in June) but when they hit me, they hit hard. Nothing but sleep helps.

So, we're moving. I hate those words.

We moved into our house the first week of May. We LOVE this house. Truthfully, it's our dream home. If we were to choose a place to spend the rest of our lives, it would be here. It's a 5500 square foot fantasy. Everything we've ever wanted (and more). Pool and spa, playground for the kids, lots of room for them to run around outside. And then things we never dreamed of like a cute little playhouse for the kids out back and a media room with a huge screen and 2 plasmas above. We love this house.

But with a large house comes large rent. And though we've afforded it just fine since moving in, Big Hunk's business has slowed down dramatically the past few months and we need to make changes. Not to mention, our church is a good 20 minutes away and we are there at least 4 days a week and it's becoming quite a commute. And the kids' friends all live near our church. It's pretty much a no-brainer.

So we've been looking at houses for about a week. And looking. And my gracious, I think we've seen every house in Southern CA. I never dreamed we'd have to look at so many houses. For sure, this is the most houses we've looked at for any one move ever. The houses either have no yard or are all beat up (and I'm sorry but after the house we moved from 8 months ago, we refuse to live in a house without a decent backyard). Or, people are just out of their minds when they think up how much rent they want to charge! Seriously. I can see where the crack epidemic is coming from.

So last night we were discussing that we hadn't seen a house yet that really felt like it could be our home, and we contemplated staying if we didn't find anything. God truly opened doors for us to be in this house, so though it is large and in charge, He got us in here and we don't question His blessings. We just decided that we would keep looking, but if we didn't find a house that felt like home, we would stay here.

Well we had 3 appointments today. The first one, we loved. Gorgeous. And, with a pool. Which is really our biggest hope for a house. (After 8 months of having a pool and swimming whenever they want, we don't want our kids to forget all they've learned.) It's drastically smaller, at about 1800 square feet- perfect. And, in a great area.

The second house was a total dump and we didn't even stop. LOL We just called the agent and told him nevermind. That bad.

And the third... well. No pool and a good 10 years older than the first one, but about $500 less. And the owner rents it herself and seemed to really like us. She's a single mom and just wants someone to take care of it. Speaking of which, I think something died in there. The previous tenants just up and left unexpectedly a few days ago, leaving behind random belongings and a STENCH that goes on for miles. Tom pulled out an old bowl of food from the oven that was clearly the source of the smell. I wanted to puke. (On a positive note though, they left an almost complete set of china and the owner gave it to me. ;) )

So, we are praying. We are so sick of looking at houses. Every. Single. Day this week we have been out there looking at houses and we're worn out. We are just going to apply to both and put it in God's hands. If we get approved for the house we really want (the first one) it will be only by the grace of God.

Well it's 12:30am and we have Friday school tomorrow at church. I need to get to bed! Even though my Gilmore Girls DVD is queued and ready to go...

My hilarious hunk.

How is it possible to be so incredibly sick of my blog layout merely days after changing it? Blech.

I only have a moment, but I needed to share this. Well, I even need to share why I only have a moment, but that will have to wait til I have another moment.

I've already been instructed to NOT share this on my blog, but I've never been too good at following directions. Especially when it is so stinking funny.

Yesterday while I was gone all day with the munchkins, Big Hunk was at home killing time, watching movies. He, being the good little Christian boy, watched Joseph King of Dreams and Prince of Egypt. A grown man watching cartoons is not the funny part.

So I'm not sure if what follows is a result of the movies (you know, the image of the wheat bowing to Joseph, that's just not something you see everyday) or our pastor last night talking animatedly about the Rapture. But this is what you get with my husband.

Apparently he had a funky dream last night. In his dream, he was in a restroom at a urinal, and another man was next to him. There were 3 urinals in all. All of a sudden, two of the urinals disappeared. Big Hunk starts exclaiming "Is this the Rapture?? My urinal just disappeared!" He stares at the wall before him, vividly seeing the empty space and pipes protruding from the wall.But he and the man next to him (whom I'm hoping had the sense to zip his pants by this point) start fighting over whose urinal disappeared. BH swears it's his, the other swears no, it's his. I guess anyone whose urinal raptured (I'm thinking women were just out of luck in this dream) had to take a bus somewhere else (maybe the urinal lost and found?) But because he's stuck here in the restroom fighting with another man about whose urinal really disappeared, he can't get on that bus and find out for sure. He tried to find me and the kids, but we were nowhere to be found.


So as Big Hunk is driving this morning, reflecting on this dream, he starts getting worried. (This just makes me chuckle.) He is wondering to himself if he is doing something wrong because his urinal might not have gotten raptured. I guess at this point a little reality-check was in order and he had to remind himself that it was only a dream, and his urinal is still there. ;)

Moonlight.

I wish I could capture the moon tonight on camera.

A few minutes ago while I was downstairs locking up, I caught a glimpse out the window of how incredibly bright our yard lit up. So once up in our room, I went out on our balcony. There are just some moments in your life that you can't even put the beauty into words.

As I stood there, looking into the sky at the moon and stars, I felt so close to God. Yet as I looked around at all the houses and lights that surround our home, I was reminded how small I really am. (Even though I don't always feel that small, but this isn't a post about my diet.) It's just so unfathomable, this constant contradiction in our lives.

God created the heavens and the earth. He created the amazing planets. He created life. Life that astounds even the wisest men, every day.

And God created me. He created the tiniest little beings that, to the outside world, seem to have no significance at all. And yet He cares about every one of us.

The God that created those same stars I was just gazing upon, created me.

Now I know I am not stumbling upon any new form of thought here. It just never fails to astonish me.

Even in the moments I feel so small, so unimportant, so uncared for- the Creator of the universe will always be the God who created me. My problems don't change that. Even my doubts don't change that. I will always be a creation of the God Most High.

I need to view myself as His creation a little more often. I'm not saying I need to have more pride because there is definitely enough of that in this world. But I need to be satisfied with His work. A work in progress for sure! ;) But His work, nonetheless. One day, not long from now, He will lift me into Heaven and His work in me will be completed.

Photography

I am unsure that I'll ever know the full potential of my camera. But I love it. The poor thing probably curses the day it was placed in the hands of a cotton-headed ninnymuggins like me.

This is my beautiful daughter, in the light of today's sunset. She's so pretty.



Bubba playing wiffle ball in the street with Daddy and his big brother. One of the first photos I took with this camera, and I really like it. Mostly, because it's in focus.


I absolutely love this photo, and I wish it had been in focus! Truth be told, I took about 10 of the same type of shot and they were all too dark and blurry. I'm getting there, but I still love her pose in this one. I think the skull pj's really make the difference.


Ikey's homemade cookies she decorated all by herself.


One of my favorite shots of our nearby mountains. If you take note of the palm tree to the right you can see blotches. That's because it was taken out of my filthy windshield.


Upset, clearly.


I think I've taken about 3700 pictures of our mountains this winter. This was just a few days after Christmas, right after I got the camera. Just around the corner from my house. As of today, the snow is almost completely melted. But I never ever get sick of seeing these mountains out my windows.


I can see millions of things I would change in these photos, but I can only learn gradually. I would have never dreamed how very many settings and adjustments there are with these cameras. It makes me feel smart trying to learn though. ;)

My grandma.

I'm looking at old photos on my hard drive. This is the last picture ever taken of my grandma (12/26/06), three days before she died. Looking at the photo now I feel horrible, because that must be exactly how she felt. But at the time, not knowing she only had a couple days left, it was just humorous.

Is that wrong?

I can't help but smile because despite the horribly jaundiced skin and the passed out grandma, I just see this goofy cat that wouldn't leave the woman alone. Every morning when she woke up, my grandma wanted me to wheel her out to the comfy chair by the fireplace. No TV, no music. Just quiet. I think she just didn't want to be alone.

And so, my stupid cat Oliver crawled up on her lap. It's not like she argued! LOL I doubt she even noticed.

This was also the last day she was really coherent. Before the pain took over, before she took her last breath. I think she was so much more worn out than she let on. She just never wanted to be a bother to us, even though I would have done anything for her.

Telling the future.

I seriously just cannot get back into the swing of things. Granted today is only Monday and we are only about 6 hours back into our regularly scheduled program, but goodness gracious. Mike has whined no less than 33.5 times about having to start back up with school (after a 2 week break that seemed to last forever, thank the good Lord above) and it doesn't help that their cousin just flew in today after being gone for a month with his dad (this nephew and his mama are living with us right now; she works for Big Hunk). I just don't have the heart to rip my boy away from his fun and make him do spelling words! ;) I keep saying "10 more minutes" and I think he's caught on that Mommy has no intention of backing it up. After 2 weeks of relaxing, sleeping in (and going to bed late), seemingly nonstop TV and video games and virtually NO schedule at all, we are thrown back into weekly Bible studies, Awana and Friday school all at once. Calgon, take me away.

So the Hunk got me a camera for Christmas. Oh my gracious, I am in love. It's a Nikon D60 and despite my complete and utter lack of knowledge for this fabulous piece of machinery, I can't put it down. (Which, funny side note... BH asked me the other night if I had read the manual because he knew I was having trouble. I responded with "Yes, I read the whole thing, but half of it is in another language" with all honesty. Or at least intended honesty (does that count?). Because when I just picked it up 10 minutes ago- you know, instead of doing schoolwork- I realized that NONE of the book is in another language, and I just skipped half the book for nothing.

I am learning a lot though by checking out photography blogs, my favorite being Pioneer Woman. I swear she's my favorite person on the planet. Her site is where I get most my recipes, learn SO much about photography (a lot of it being before I even got my camera) and learn that I really do want a ranch in Oklahoma. Which is kinda funny, because that's about as far as you can get from the beach that I love so much.

Anyway, I'm learning. I am just 110% completely in love with photography. I always have been in fact, I just never had the camera to do anything right. Something cute: I distinctly remember when I was about 7 years old, someone asking me what I wanted to be when I grew up. It could have been my mom asking, or a friend, I really don't remember. I just remember answering "a photographer". It didn't matter at the time that I didn't have a camera (and wasn't allowed to touch my mom's), and I don't even know how I knew what a photographer was at the time. Did I mention I'm a prophetess? ;)

A new one.

Happy New Year's! It is now 3:21pm (hehe cool!) and I am still in my Guitar Hero pajamas. Glasses are still on as the contacts continue to rest in their solution, and no, I still have not brushed my teeth. Sorry for sharing that.

But it's been such a cool day. In fact, all of us are still in our pj's (though mine are the only ones with guitars and crazy looking skeletons with cross tattoos and wings) and we have done NOTHING productive since we woke up. I take that back. Because we played Rock Band as a family and nothing is more productive than belting out Courtney Love while your son plays guitar and your husband beats the crap out of the drums. Family bonding right there, folks. The daughter? She wasn't part of our bonding. She was playing Webkinz on the computer, but she had fun. I also watched a movie (The Flying Scotsman) with my hubby, though we could understand only about 70% of the words thanks to funky accents.

I'm not usually one to make New Year's resolutions. Mostly because all my resolutions seem to be made every single day in various areas in which I'm lacking at that time: parenting, organization, etc. Of course there's the obligatory diet and workout regimen that starts sometime around January 1st. That will never change. But I also read on Greg Sponberg's blog today a rather novel approach (via Dr. Bill Thrasher). Devoting time in the month of January to prayer and really seeking God as to His direction for the upcoming year. Giving Him our firstfruits of the year, because the year is His anyway. Seeking His will in our plans and "to-do" list when everyday we are given belongs to Him in every way.

So in addition to stepping up my healthy eating (and by "stepping up" I mean throwing out the evil sugar cookies I made last night and completely changing every eating habit I have right now) and creating a workout schedule for myself, I will devote this time to God. Seeking Him before I go on with my "resolutions". Because that's all our resolutions are about anyway: self. I want my year to be about Him.

I'm going through a lot of changes recently. I've been spending a lot less time online, and more in the kitchen (my favorite place). Spending less time reading about friends and more time being with friends. And closing doors that have been hanging open far past their time. Making decisions that are best for my family and worrying less about how other people view me. Living more in the moments I'm given, rather than planning the ones I'm not promised.