When one sibling is at piano practice and the other is out with Daddy, what's a kid to do to do to pass the time?

Make a silly youtube video with Mommy, of course!

Here's a kid who thoroughly enjoys having me in his presence. He hasn't followed the "Mom, don't kiss me/hug me/dance in front of my friends" fad that's going around.

Do they not understand that I am fed by embarrassment? Do they not understand that I've been spending well over a decade trying to embarrass Mr Hunter, much to my own foolish appearance? The best is yet to come, my darlings! ;)

Watch! You won't be sorry!


UPDATE: Now Girl Bunny and Boy Lyon want their time in the spotlight! Who-da thought being in a video with a little editing and some funky background music could be so fun? Apparently they didn't think so. Remember, I'm the embarrassment? Well, apparently, not any more. That is, until I get them on camera...hee hee. Hugs? Kisses? Some dancing and singing?

Oh, you bet!
My friend moved here to the great state of Texas many, many moons ago. A few weeks later she asked a bunch of us ladies a somewhat personal question and then said, "Remember, this is a judgement-free zone". I remember looking around at my friends with a relief, for this new gal removed the pressure to try to act perfect, or to attempt to give the perfect answer to her question, when she knew that we all knew that we weren't. 

I knew that this was a gal that I was going to like.

I have realized something lately. That the older I get, the more I find how imperfect I am and while I come to God with these imperfections, and state every last one of them to Him, even though I'm clearly aware that He already knows, the more I embrace my flaws, my "sins", my imperfections, my "mess ups"; the more I embrace other people who are in such diverse, different worlds than mine. And the more I don't give a damn as to what their "sins" are when they confess one or two to me.

(source, thank you!)

I was once told that when you come to love yourself, you will find it much easier to love others.

And after I heard that, I heard it several more times. 

Until I finally understood it. Now I don't hear it anymore.

I'm not saying that I completely love myself, or that I'm sin-free (ha--that's a laugh). I understand that the natural man is prone to sin. Regardless of what degree of "sin" that it is. And just because we are prone to sin does not justify the act of sinning. It helps us see that we can be downright stupid at times and that we can understand that and be forgiven if we wholeheartedly promise to try our best to never do it again.

Sin = enter your own definition.
I will not be telling you what I believe is right or wrong, or what is or isn't a sin. As I'm no judge. I'm just a person trying to do the best I can and trying to be as Christlike as I can. Drinking beer, for me, is a sin. But I don't believe that it's labeled a sin for everyone (and I will never judge you for doing it. Ever). 
See what I mean? So interpret the word "sin" as you will.

I also know too that if we were to lay our "sins" out on the table for all to see that by the end of this experiment we would all end up friendless. Because we would one, be ashamed of ourselves; and two, be disgusted with our neighbor.

The only people who needs to know our struggles, our imperfections, is the One who atoned for them and the One who sent His Son to atone for them. 

But sometimes, our imperfections come out.

Sometimes they are harder to hide than others. 

And yet people point the finger of blame because while they may be stronger than OUR sin/s, they have a closet ransacked with their own they are trying to ignore. And putting emphasis on our problems helps them, for a brief moment, forget theirs. 

Why do we do this?

Why do we find joy in other's pain?

And why do we hide our own pain?

Do we not understand that when we place so much energy into hiding our imperfections that we are actually doing more bad than embracing them and freeing them from within our soul? When we embrace them and free them, the likelihood of them returning is slim to none! Because they no longer have power over us to attract them back into our lives!

If we put as much energy into the great things about us and not so much into hiding the "bad", or what people may have had you thinking is "bad", how much more fulfilled do you think life would be?

When you lay down at night, do you honestly think your Maker wants you hating yourself for your imperfections? YOUR MAKER. Think of a person you love the most. More than anyone else. How would you feel if you knew he/she spent the quiet hours of their life shaming themselves, when you want nothing more than for them to see themselves through YOUR eyes?

How do you think God feels when he sees us doing this? 
You know he made every last part of you, including your strengths and weaknesses. You are His work of art. His masterpiece. Yes, YOU are a masterpiece!

Look, God knows we aren't perfect. God knows we have moments of weakness, or moments when we act heartless without thinking. He understands. He wants us to come to Him and say, "I know I did wrong, help me?" and promise to honestly TRY to make ourselves better.

Just the other day I did something heartless. I was at the store, looking for an item that I couldn't find and someone came up to me and said, "Hi, how are you?" To which I responded quietly, "I'm good, thanks". I said it kindly, not warmly as I was in concentration mode and didn't want to be bothered. This person walks off, comes back up to me and says again, "Hi, how are you?" To which I say louder and curtly while burning my eyes into theirs to make sure they're hearing me, "I'm GOOD, THANKS." 
I would have been better off saying, "Will you just shut up and leave me alone?" by the look on this person's face. I had clearly upset this person. Their eyes saddened. Their demeanor fizzled. I could swear I saw this person's heart breaking before me. And I, irritatingly walked away. Only to feel piss poor afterwards. I hoped to run into the person again to apologize, but couldn't find them. 
"I'm a bword." I vented to myself. "It's freakin' 7:30 in the morning and I probably ruined their whole day. What kind of person am I? How dare I act that way? I am an advocate of cheering people up, brightening their day, giving warm smiles and kind words. And I did none. of. that. Ladee, you are a loser."

While that may be a mere "sin", I was sorry. Deeply sorry. And I prayed hard for forgiveness. 

But what if I were to hold onto that "sin"? What would happen? I can only imagine myself forcefully trying to be overly nice to everyone, even at the expense of my energy, so I would never let anyone believe that I'm a mean-ol' woman. I would spend the dark hours of night in anxiety, thinking about how I affected that person's day...when I may not have affected it as bad as I assumed I did. The look on that person's face I still see vividly, but I know it would only haunt me in greater detail. I could very well try to hide from anyone at the store so that I don't accidentally do it again and potentially be even meaner...as all my energy is being spent on hiding how mean I am.

I guess what I'm trying to say is this: We all sin. Don't act like you don't and that you're perfect enough to cast stones at your neighbor because their weaknesses are different than yours. What if the tables were turned and your neighbor knew your secrets? Would you want them casting their stones of perfection at you because they don't sin like you do?

I didn't think so.

Also, don't hold on to your sins. There was a Man that came to this Earth to atone for them! He paved a way that you could give Him your sins and to explain to Him all your weaknesses, and through His love He'll make everything better! As long as you are TRYING, He is fighting with you, easing your burdens, removing your guilt. Making you stronger.

That's it: TRY. 

TRY not to sin. TRY to love yourself. And you'll find that loving other's regardless of the way they live easier and more rewarding than you could ever imagine. 

All we need is love. Love is the strongest, most powerful gift you can give anyone. It heals, it brings understanding, it changes lives.

Today was my Boy Dolphyn's parent/teacher conference.

It started snowing this morning around 7am. I remember thinking, "I wonder how the roads will be come 1 o'clock when I need to drive to the school." I shook it off...this is Texas ya know, the weather could very well reach 70, regardless as to what The Weather Channel says, with how unstable it is here.

It continued to snow. All day.

12:30 rolls around and I hop in the car, figuring I would need to drive carefully and I'd rather be oober early to the school than late. I say a quick prayer: "God, help me drive on these streets, help me make it to the school safely for this conference."

And I proceed to drive....

...only to come to a slow spin as I turn the corner. It's frightening when breaking does nothing. Thank God my neighbor's car was not parked in front of her house. I would've ran into it.

I pull out of the middle of the street, park, and say another, more detailed prayer: "God, please help the tires to have traction on these roads. Please bring my angels to help keep me safe, to shield me and to help the car function properly. Please bring me to the school and back safely, with no problems....."

This is when I think, "I could reschedule. The teacher will understand."

I debate myself with, "But I need to not fear a slick road. I need to get over that."

Before I allowed my thoughts to carry on, I end my prayer with, "And if You feel I shouldn't go, let me know."

So I CRAWL down the street, take the turn like a boss and wait at the stop before pulling out onto roads that seemed to be in far better shape than my 'hood.

I'm seeing the answers to my prayers unfolding before me until a neighbor slowly pulls into the neighborhood and hits me.

A lovely fender bender.

No one is hurt, she is apologetic, and I am realizing that it was God's telling me to reschedule...and God's allowing of this accident to tell me I needed to stay home.

I call Mr Hunter to come down and assess the damage. I'm assuming we'd need a new rear fender. I didn't dare look. I didn't want to come off like I was going to find as much damage as possible in front of the person who regretfully hit me. Neither is my 1997 Jeep Grand Cherokee anything to shout about and cry over if it got hit with the issues it already has (read: NO HEAT, transmission issues, wants to die at idle).

But there was NOTHING. No dings, no scratches, no paint smears.

The lady's car was a little worse for wear, but not by much. "I had just got this car out of the shop today, too!" she exclaimed.

I had Mr Hunter drive the car home, now that I'm permanently scarred for life. ;)

But I found the tender mercies of the Lord today. I found that the Lord didn't want me on the road. Maybe I'm the world's worst driver and he stopped me from hurting myself and anyone else that may be in my way. Maybe he wanted to make sure His children would be safe if one spun out of control on a patch of ice and me being on the road would hinder that.

Maybe He just had something better in mind. Maybe I shouldn't question it.

Sometimes we don't know why God allows things to happen. But as I grow older and strive to keep a solid connection with my God and Lord and the Holy Ghost, I have found just how often we are taken care of. Those little coincidences are never mere coincidences. "Oh, I'm glad I thought of that!" or "What a coincidence that I got this job just as I was laid off from my other job!" or "What a coincidence that I needed something and someone had it!" or "How nice that it's overcast today as I'm working outside in this heat."

Nope, those are God and his angels saying, "Hey you! I love you! I've got your back. I'll keep watch over you. Don't let those hard times bother you, you're in my care! I will make it better. You do your best and I will do the rest. You're mine to care for and I will."
Five days ago I heard the devastating news that my good friend passed away in her sleep.

She was 37.

She has 4 kids and one amazing, sweet husband.

This passing was completely, 100% unexpected.

This was a woman who I thought would live to be in her 100's; old, cranky, healthy as a horse and sharp as a tack.

I never would have guessed this would be a woman that God decided he needed a little earlier than what my crystal ball was predicting. 

And I wonder if she agreed as she was taken home to her Maker. 

This was a gal who loved everyone fiercely, and she loved her children even more. As her husband quoted her at her funeral, "I don't want to raise average kids to send out to the world, I want to raise the best."

And so she did. She was 5 feet tall and tough, but all in the name of love.

What I loved too was that she never once worried what others thought of her. She was too busy making the world a better place, raising her kids to be the stellar children that they have become in the short time she has been with them, serving others and finding humor and happiness all in between.

I. Loved. This. Girl. 

She used to live behind me, our homes shared the same alley. How I loved that she was right there. The knowledge in that brought peace to my heart. She was such a brave, courageous woman that though I was 950 miles from my family and felt the vulnerability of that, her friendship was enough for me to feel safe in this new state, full of new people and ridiculously stupid drivers (like the time when she mentioned how ridiculous it was that people stopped a whole car-length behind other cars at the intersection or how they would stop several feet before the intersection line--she turned that into a story so funny I nearly cried). She and I would laugh the day away. There was always something to talk about, something to laugh about, something to smile about.

She gave the best stories. She could turn a generic story about running to the store to get some milk into a laugh-fest, adding details of humorous things only she had the knack to pick up on. 

She once told me the story about her older sister's worthless boyfriend, how he treated her sister terribly and somehow, she found a way to get us all laughing in the end. Every story had humor.

After finding of her passing I cried. Tears would fill my eyes and before I had enough in them to make them cascade down my face, I would instantly be reminded of a funny story or experience that had her in it. My tears of sadness turned into tears of laughter. And this carried on to the next day. 

I wished that for just a few minutes, that would be allowed to mourn, to let it all out, to cry it away.

And then I got a very distinct impression. I felt it was my friend giving me these funny memories, these moments we shared with loud laughter. I then understood that my friend was telling me that she didn't want to be remembered through tears of sorrow, but through the good times, through the humor. 

And once I embraced that, I decided that I would honor that request.

I firmly believe that just because someone dies it does not mean that they are forever no longer in existence. Just because my friend is not here, inside her physical body, she still lives! She's still here! 

A couple times I heard her laughter during these past few days. No one has the laughter she does. Hers is unique. It's loud, heartfelt, popping, and contagious.

I hope to hear it more. I hope to view the world more as she did. So much I learned from her in the six years I have known her. How I wish I would have told her before she passed how much of that I have taken with me and how much it has changed me for the better.

I quote her all the time. I wonder if I ever told her that.

I find humor and happiness in all things. She inspired that in me. "Life is too short," I would say, "to be serious". And I see that she was the prime example of my own words.

I found that being a strong, courageous woman is a trait I should never shun from being, something I should never apologize for. Being stubborn too, I have found, is not a trait I should ignore or be embarrassed about. This woman was strong, this woman was stubborn as hell, but all in the name of love and in the name of honoring her children and keeping her family safe. She didn't care what other's thought of her, she knew what was best for her family. And what she was was the best mother and wife that family could have asked for. 

How many times do people come into our lives, touch our lives for the better and we never tell them? Too many times. 

Pam, I hope you're reading this. I hope you know how much I keep you close to my heart. I hope you know that I know you are not far and that I know you have checked in on me, just as you would do with all your friends and family. 

You are the perfect example of loving, mother hen. 

And a life-changing friend. Your work has not ended, but just began. And I know you, you'll dive in head-first protecting, comforting, healing, guiding, all with that unconditional love you have and finding humor in everything to go tell those on the other side. 

If only I could hear those stories. 

God bless you, my friend. And thank you, for blessing my life.
My friend Jane, wrote this:

I think DYT has taken a beautiful system and made it accidentally a tool of judgment. (...) What happens is we want to say "I AM" and "YOU ARE" definitely this type. And if you're wrong, then you're fooling yourself. Don't you see it? And thus self-judgment and judgment of others. 

And it had me thinking.

Why? Because I am guilty of this. Have I been upfront and told my friends that I thought their Typing was wrong? I hope not. Sure, I find frustration when a friend is beating a dead horse over something we all already know is her Type and yet she won't listen or is continuously wanting confirmation on a Type.

Does it really matter if we know what our Type is?

For me, and for some I know, yes.

But for others?

I don't think so. Or maybe the better answer is: Not yet.

I'm part of a Facebook group that houses a kaleidoscope of women. All of different ages, all from different parts of the world, all with their own, unique story.

And I have found that knowing your Type does not come easily as I thought, and as a lot of others believe. A friend's recent posting has had me feeling somber and turning inward, knowing that I needed to write and praying as to what I should.

Time and again we fail to understand that if we walked a mile in our friends' shoes, that we would see life and ourselves differently. Maybe knowing who we are isn't so "black and white" or an eye-opening experience.

While I can't always state a person's dominant, I am pretty fair at knowing what their two strongest energies are. And there are several instances where I talk to my friends, who are dead set at claiming a certain Type and here I wanna yell, "No, you're not a 3! You're a 2/4 or 4/2!" and yet what I'm not seeing is why they claim that type. What if Dad was an abusive Type 4 and Mom, an avoiding, beat down Type 2, who didn't know how or even appear to TRY to protect her children?

What if someone believes that being a certain Type meant being safe? What if it meant that all people would love them if they were that Type? Or, what if being a certain Type provided protection to a very wounded inner child?

Can you see now, why someone would want to claim anything other than those Types that may appear to harm, even if that is their true nature? We condition ourselves at a young age to learn what is good, what is bad, and how the hell to survive, even if those conditions we placed in our minds are distorted. They are nevertheless, TRUTHS to us. And yet, we tell them they are wrong, as though they are stupid and we are know-it-all Yodas.

Maybe what is most important in our life is happiness. That's it: Happiness.

Does it matter if you claim Type 2 today, embrace it and love yourself for it and in a few years realize that you are actually a Type 1?

Does that matter at all?

No!

What matters most is that you love yourself. What matters most is that you can heal from any past wounds and move forward, knowing that you are doing the best you can do, embracing all aspects of yourself; the good and the bad.

If we are forced to believe that we are a Type that we are not ready to accept, I fear we will regress and only turn inward, avoiding any and all aspect of that Type, which in turn will lead us to a life of pain.

I tell ya, had I not spent years of learning self love, having read a handful of books about self help, and experiencing trials that I know only the Good Lord gave to me as He was seeing my need for self knowledge and betterment, I would have wrongly typed myself by the time Carol Tuttle's book had reached my hands.

So when a friend says, "I'm a Type 2" when clearly they are a Type 4/1, do them a favor and congratulate them. And unless they ask for your opinion, don't give it. We do not know the paths our friends are leading. We do not know the darkness they are trying to escape from. We can't see the path they labored through to get to where they are.

Help them love themselves, all of themselves. That's better than telling them what they are and what they aren't.