Little Debbi

My daughter, Abigail, is a mini-me. If her big blue eyes and wild hair don't give her away, talk to her for two minutes. She has my sense of humor, my smile, my sarcasm (not even cute in an eight-year-old). She is, as my husband calls her, a "Little Debbi."

Her sense of style is one of the areas that she takes after me. Often, she will come out of her room ready for church, and I will get the "are you going to let her wear that?" look from Hubby. The answer is, if it's modest and clean, yes. Absolutely.

I am a mom who picks her fights, and this is not one of them. So, her skirt is polka dotted and her shirt is striped. In eternity will it really matter? What? Is God going to give us wings that match what we wore to church the last Sunday before we died? I don't think so. As the Bible says, God looks on the heart. With Abby, I hope he sees a kind, selfless person who desires to please Him.

Another area that Abby is following in my footsteps is her dealings with boys. That became apparent today. She twisted the stem off her apple, "A, B, C, - I got C, Mom. Who's that?" After we kicked around a couple names, I suggested Corey. Her response, "I don't think he'll want to marry me. I beat him up the last time I saw him." Ah, that's my girl.

So, in a few years, she will be chasing the boys - or they her - and making sure her outfits match. Until then, I am going to enjoy the stripedy, polka-dotty tomboy. It will be over way to soon.

Mean English

Ah, the joys of the English language. We have two kinds of people in our church. It's a small church, so I know this. The first group has a strong grasp of proper English and like to flaunt it. The second group couldn't care less if they tried.

This has led to many interesting, and sometimes a little heated, discussions during fellowship times. I have come to the conclusion that it is our pastor's fault. He doesn't like us to argue over doctrinal issues - you know, pre- wrath or post-wrath rapture, which version of the Bible, etc. (Is that right, Bear?) So, our church has chosen English. My Lands.

The biggest argument seems to be the use of "me" and "I." Bill was always saying "Me and Brian went to work this morning." or "Me and Jenny went on a date." Then his friend, Allen, would say, "Jenny, why are you being so mean?" (Mean Jenny . . . - get it?) This went on for months. Made me so mad, I would have to leave the room everytime it came up. SO WHAT? Bill can't talk. He's honest, he's doesn't beat his wife and none of his kids are in jail. Hey, that's good enough for me.

Anyway, Bill has caved. He now says, "Jenny and I. . ." Which is nice, but if Allen is in earshot, Bill continues, "Did you hear that Allen - Jenny and I?" And Allen smiles like he's some kind of great English professor. Personally, I think the big bully should be ashamed of himself.

So, Allen is out of town, and a bunch of us got together for New Years Eve. While playing a game, someone asked, "Who is the judge?" To which Jenny (yes, Bill's date) responded - "Me - well, I." So the discussion began. When you say the word by itself is it "me" or "I?" Blah Blah Blah Yadda Yadda. Finally, they decided it was "I." Bill asked, "So, when is it 'me'?" I answered, "When Allen and Jenny aren't in the room."

Spelling is another problem with which some people could use help. My husband and I have a running joke about this because he is one of those people. I have learned to help him when he asks and let it go when he doesn't. Know what? If he writes "Twienty dollers" on a check, the bank still cashes it for twenty dollars.

So, last night, a young lady who has recently started courting was reading her love's e-mail. She turned to her parents and my husband and I and said, "He spelled write w-r-i-g-h-t." As we talked about that for a minute, she said it was okay. I gave her a little advice. "If you think you are going to want to correct his spelling later, correct it now, so he knows what he is getting into. Don't let him do it wrong now, then try to change him after you're married." I don't know what she decided to do - probably not to correct him, because she makes mistakes, too.

So, in conclusion, English and I get along. But people who are picky about it scare me. That's when Me-an English part comapny.

I'm Officially Old!!!

Growing up, I always heard people say, "The older you get the faster time goes," and "It seems like just yesterday we were ringing in last year!" The last two years, I got it!! Holy Cow! I swear it should still be the middle of 2005. That was the first year that I really felt like time flew. Where did that year go? I wasn't even that busy.

Needless to say, 2006 was worse. I now have a son in the two digits age, and a daughter who thinks she can choose her style better than I can. All of my children are old enough to teach younger children the proper way to say certain words, and they are bold enough to try. Last year, I had a year to plan a one month vacation to PA. Now, I have less than three months. I need to start packing!

I am dreading how fast 2007 will go. If it's anything like I anticipate, look for me on January 3, 2008. See you way too soon.