How to Disappoint Your Child

La Petite Belle got in the vehicle today and said she had something to show me.

"Great," I said. "What is it?"

She pulled a trophy (for a year of being on Honor Roll) out of her backpack.

I say, "What?! You got a trophy today? I had no idea you were going to get a trophy, baby. If you would have told me, I would have been there."

La Petite Belle: "Yeah, I cried 'cause you weren't there."

(Insert heartbreak here.)

Me: "Oh, Baby, I'm so sorry. I would have been there. I didn't know. I'm so proud of you."

La Petite Belle: "It's OK, Mommy."

(Insert MORE heartbreak.)

I loved on this baby girl all afternoon. She loved on me.

How did I miss this?

I think my heart hurts more than hers.

It makes me think about my Heavenly Father and how I'm so not like the parent that He is. Oh, how I want to be. He never misses a thing. He's always there. He never disappoints.

I just imagine my child up at the front of the chapel, looking for me, and I'm not there. Then, she tears up and cries to her teacher, who tries to comfort her because her loser mom didn't show up.

(Insert EVEN MORE heartbreak.)

OK, I'm gonna go cry now.

I'm sorry, Baby Girl.

No turning back now.

Last night, we purchased our plane tickets to New York.

Hotel booked and paid for. Voila ... our room.

Now, time to gather up some spending money and decide which shows we'll see.

We're definitely doing this:

And I'm leaning towards this too:

It's the simple things that make me happy. I want to eat here:

And eat this: (Lombardi's, by the way)

And, do I dare: (Remember what happened to George?)

There are tons of other things we'll do, all the touristy stuff included ... museums, Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, fancy dining, shopping, ice skating, the TV shows we'll try to go to, the Christmas tree, etc.

But, the most wonderful part of this trip will occur on December 16th, 2009 at the top of the Empire State Building. My feelings are best expressed in this picture. Picture me as Sarah Jessica Parker and Beau as the guy and you've got it.

Yeah, I know we've got some working out to do. Just use your imagination.

Celebrating 15 years together and ready for 15 more. I love you, honey. Can't wait.

Criteria for my new gynecologist

Men, you might want to skip this one.

Unfortunately, I was informed a couple of months ago that my obgyn retired. I learned this in a letter a couple of weeks after my annual check-up. Could he have not told me then? I mean, you're looking at my most private parts, you can pretty much tell me anything.

The thought of having to find a new doctor in this field is not appealing to me. I just got settled in with my old doctor, and he'd been my doctor since before Beau and I got married (minus the six years we lived in Tulsa).

I decided I needed to have some criteria that my next possible doctor must meet.

Here goes:

#1 - You must not be young or good-looking. Too awkward.

#2 - You must not be older than 70. Too creepy and close to retirement.

#3 - You must not make eye contact with me during the breast exam. Again, awkward.

#4 - You must not make small talk when doing the breast or other exam. Same awkwardness.

#5 - Warm hands are a must. Dry, scaly hands are a must-not.

#6 - You must not have goofy, silly pictures on the ceiling. Seriously. This is not funny or amusing. Just do what you gotta do and do it quickly.

#7 - The stirrups may not be covered with furry tigers or any other animal for that matter.

#8 - And, just for your information, peeing in a cup .... HARD ... VERY HARD. Please don't ever ask me to do it again.

#9 - I must be comfortable talking with you about intimate details related to my most private parts. You are not allowed to giggle.

#10 - When I do tell you these intimate details, not only are you not allowed to giggle, but you also may not say, "Deal with it," or "You're just getting older. It's perfectly normal." And, while I'm at it EVERYTHING is not because of hormones. And, I am not perimenopausal. Puh-lease.

(Following video is PG-13. Hi-larious! Julia Louis-Dreyfuss is definitely my long-lost sister. I totally relate to her characters.)

Oh, and I know what you'll say, ... "Go to a woman." Yeah, I'm trying that. We'll see how that works out.

FYI: This post was formed in a one-hour-and-fifteen-minute dental procedure. My mouth was open the entire time and I had to pee. That has to be some form of torture somewhere. Painful in several ways. 

And actually, the post started out as why I like to visit the gynecologist more than the dentist, but too many suggestive parallels that some may not have found too humorous, even though I did. (wink)

Did my daughter just call me fat and "old school"?

La Petite Belle and I were looking through her scrapbooks and pictures yesterday.

We looked at her ultrasound pictures.

We looked at her newborn pictures.

We looked at the picture of K Belle looking at her for the first time, when she said, "She doesn't have curly hair."

We looked at her bath pictures to which La Petite Belle said, "Why did you put those in there? I had such a big, fat belly."

We looked at the pictures of me holding her after her birth to which she said, "No offense, Mommy, but you don't look so good and your clothes are so old school. Look at how big your tummy is."

I said, "Umm ... excuse me. I just gave birth to you. I pushed for 2 hours to get your 7-pound body out of my body. I was tired. Sorry, I didn't look that great."

In fact, we got to see a lot of was how huge I was after I had La Petite Belle. Ginormous. For the entire first two years of her life, I was overweight. 

It's funny because, at that time, I didn't see myself as that overweight, but I was. I was 3-4 sizes bigger than I am now. What a difference those few sizes make. (And, in my defense, I had a whole year of thyroid issues that are too lengthy to get into, but suffice it to say, doctors scared me to death. The word, "cancer," was even thrown out at one point. Geez. Thank God for His total and complete healing and a healthy thyroid.)

I'm still constantly fighting this weight thing.

It's an everyday battle that I will never give up.

Will I be an exercise freak? No.

Will I eat ice cream? Yes.

The truth is that we all know what to do to keep our bodies healthy.

It all comes down to the choices we make.

There are days that I honestly don't care and there are days that I want to beat myself up over eating a bite-size Twix bar (Honestly, bite-size is just a tease. You're just going to eat more if they're bite-size, so you might as well just get the whole candy bar.)

But, I will not give up. Ever.

I'm hoping to finally be at my goal weight and be in the best shape ever before I'm 40. We'll see how that goes.

And, no, I will not post pictures. I'm thinking of actually burning them.

Contentment

Being satisfied with my situation ...

with my possessions ...

with my status ...

with my life ...

with who I've become and who I am at the moment (all of me ... body, mind, and soul).

This is hard for me.

Very hard.

Even harder after I read this quote by A.W. Tozer ...

“God may allow His servant to succeed when He has disciplined him to a point where he does not need to succeed to be happy. The man who is elated by success and is cast down by failure is still a carnal man. At best his fruit will have a worm in it.”

I am this carnal person.

Consumed with myself and my desires, no matter how hard I try not to be ... my flesh is always here to remind me how worthless I am and how much I need to be better ...

A better wife ...

A better mommy ...

A better friend ...

A better person.

I struggle so much with trying to be better that I forget to be content with who and where I am.

I will begin to thank God daily for who He has created me to be and not strive to be something else. 

I will begin to thank God for the healthy body I have and not complain about the way I look.

I will begin to thank God for what He's delivered me from and not sabotage my future by dwelling on the past.

I will begin to thank God for the work He is continually doing in me and stop saying, "I suck."

I will pray for contentment in all things.

That quote ... can't get past it ... "The man who is elated by success and is cast down by failure is still a carnal man." Gosh. Harsh. But, when you think about it ... so true.

Contentment ... in all times, success or failure ... good times or bad ... in ALL TIMES.

Yeah, I'm at the Beach.

Hence not having anything relevant to say ...

Hence the bullet points ...

* Did I mention I cut bangs? Nothing like being original. I mean, no one's getting bangs cut right now, right? Actually, I look the same.

* I did attempt to run on the beach this morning, but had to default to the bike path on the road, while dodging seagulls and pelicans (all trying to peck my eyeballs out like they did in Hitchcock's "The Birds").

* In addition, I did run after eating an entire box of Milk Duds and burger and fries. Totally appropriate.

* All day, the two songs I couldn't get out of my head were: "Hotel California" and "If You Like Pina Coladas." Weird. Which then made me think of the whole backward-masking thing. Remember that? Isn't "Hotel California" evil or something?

* Standing outside, looking at the beach, and the wide expanse of sky, made me realize how small I really am (in reference to God, not in general).

* My feet lived up to their task today as "the prop." As you can see, they are screaming for some type of compensation.

* Random unflattering picture of guy in background with his dog (really it's my friend, Tiffany's husband, Rhett). He's fasting and he's not usually mysterious, but he can't talk about it.

* Beau's neck

* I ate one of the best steaks ever last night made by Tiffany's dad ... ingredients: steaks, olive oil, salt & pepper. He says, "The secret's in the heat." Two words: cast-iron skillet.

* After cooking with his Le Creuset pots, I surely want one. Maybe two.

* Four-hour drive today back home. Boo.

My true acting ability has yet to be discovered.

Yes, I work in the field of church media.

We make lots of videos, or should I say I only give my opinion (that's the extent of my part in the creative process) and the others create them.

But, there is one part that I do play ... the prop.

I feel a little like Slim from "A Bug's Life." My feelings can be best expressed in the first minute of this next video from Slim himself. 

I, too, am always cast as ...

the hands opening the greeting card

the married hand

the baking hand

the feet stepping on the scale

the lady singing in the shower

the shoulder of an adulteress

the voice

and now, this week, I'm the feet on the beach.

One day, someone will truly appreciate real talent when they see it.

Here's a sampling of my work. May I present "lady singing in the shower" ... and you may recognize "man shaving & singing in mirror."

Told you ... amazingly pure talent.

I've been called worse.

The one thing I detest about this time of year is the fair.

At the end of every school year, the local university stadium parking lot is turned into the Cajun Heartland State Fair.

Hate. It.

I have actually not been in about 5 years.

The years I went before were only out of the possible guilt of being a bad mommy for not ever taking my kids to experience the fair.

I'm so over that.

We drove by the area that is being prepared for this event recently and the girls always talk about how they want to go. I would try to not drive near the area and pretend that this type of thing doesn't exist, but it just happens to be the road we must take to get the girls to school.

I have obviously influenced K Belle. When La Petite Belle asked about going again this year, I didn't even have to respond. K Belle said, "We don't go because of the germs." I pipe in, "and the filth, and the disease, and the grossness."

For those of you who still think I'm being a bad mother, just know we frequent amusement parks ... REAL amusement parks ... as in Disney World, Dolly Wood, Six Flags, but not fairs. If I'm going to dish out $100 or more in one night, I'd rather enjoy my experience and not have to feel like I need a shower after.

So, when the girls were with my mom this past weekend, and they were talking about the fair, and my mother was saying we should go, La Petite Belle tells my mother that I won't take them because of the germs.

My mom then proceeds to tell them I'm a germaphobe. 

As La Petite Belle is relaying this story back to me, she says that Nana called me a "germaholic." So, there it is.

We won't be going to the fair not only because I'm a "germaholic," but because

A - yes, the germs ... disease ... filth ... dirtiness of rides ... swine flu ain't nothin' compared to some of the stuff you can get there

B - the ridiculous cost of tickets to ride spinning bears

C - the harassment from carnies

D - the rigged games that you never win

E - the Dollar Store prizes that you never win

F - the inappropriate behavior of most of the people that attend the fair

G - the nausea and bloating you receive after eating funnel cakes, roasted corn, candy apples, cotton candy, and giant corn dogs (although this would probably be the only reason I would go to the fair)

H - the variety of food that can be put on a stick

I - no one really needs an airbrushed t-shirt with a dolphin or Garfield on it

J - no one really needs a temporary tattoo of a snake or the saying "One Hot Mama"

K - the ride where I almost crushed my children and traumatized La Petite Belle

L - still not sure about carnies and if they're the best influence on my children

Call me a germaholic. I don't care. But, we will not be going to the fair. (Yes, that was a rhyme.)

I hate to be such a downer lately, but ...

I can't think of much else right now, but the events that occurred last week that affected so many. With the passing of our dear friend, Bryan, came another tragedy the next night when another friend, Mitch, was also killed in a car accident. Two young men, who were not only husbands, but fathers and friends ... how could this be?

During these times, we all question God. Why? Why does this happen?

I keep thinking about that old Billy Joel song, "Only the Good Die Young." How appropriate!

There are so many thoughts that run through my head when tragedies like this happen.

I can't handle it when people say, "We all have our time," or "It was just his time."

I don't believe that.

I know that the Bible says that there is an appointed time for every man to die. And I know that our deaths are not a surprise to God.

However, my God is a good God, who wants the best for His children. My God doesn't want children to grow up fatherless and wives to have to struggle to make a good life for their children without their husbands. My God wants His children to live a long, blessed life. 

Do I believe that everything is supposed to be easy and happy in this life? No.

But, if God's desire for us is good, and He never changes, then He wants us blessed and not suffering.

I believe it is through the fallen world that we live in that these events occur. 

Sometimes, we must suffer due to the choices, decisions, and even mistakes of others. And, sometimes, we make our own choices, decisions, and mistakes.

I think about David and how he pleaded with God for his son not to die. God told David through Nathan that the son Bathsheba was carrying would die because of the sins that David had committed and attempted to cover up.

David pleaded. David fasted. David spent nights lying on the ground ... waiting on God's response ... praying and hoping for mercy.

On the seventh day, the child died.

There is always a consequence to our actions. Sometimes the consequences affect not only us, but others. Our heart goes out to David, of course, over the loss of his child, and the guilt he must have felt. But, what about Bathsheba, and even more, what about that innocent baby. Consequences affect the innocent too.

An elderly man loses control of a vehicle and an innocent man is dead. 

Another man loses control of his own vehicle through unknown circumstances and he is dead.

Both events affect loads of other people.

Here's the greatest thing that separates David from the rest of us.

Guess what he did after he found out his son died, even knowing it was his own fault? He got up from the ground. He washed, put on lotion (really?), changed his clothes, went to the house of the Lord and worshiped. Then, after he worshiped, he went home and ate.

His servants were a little stunned by his reaction and asked why he was acting this way. They said, "while the child was alive, you fasted and wept, but now that the child is dead, you get up and eat."

2 Samuel 12:22 He answered, "While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept. I thought, 'Who knows? The LORD may be gracious to me and let the child live.' 23 But now that he is dead, why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him, but he will not return to me."

He worshiped.

That's all we can do right now. Just worship. We can't understand. Just worship.

I also think about the fact that God works everything for our good.

David's good was that God gave him another son, Solomon, who the Bible said, the Lord loved.

I don't know what good can come out of this situation, but God's Word is true, and I trust Him.

And, since you've made it through this incredibly long post, I vow to not post on death or dying for the rest of the week.

One Second

That's all it takes for your life to be changed. To be taken from here into eternity.

In one second ...

a woman became a widow and single mom,

two sons & a daughter became fatherless, 

hopes and dreams were shattered,

a godly man is gone.

That's all it takes ... one second ... from this life to the next. Be ready.

Not only our church, but our community, lost a great man yesterday.

We are sad. Mourning. Praying for his wife and three children.

Bryan Martin ... I just spoke with you in the hall at church this weekend. There you were with a smile on your face, as always. To think, I won't see you again this weekend is beyond belief. You encouraged me to sing, even when I wasn't singing or didn't want to. Your kind words meant a lot. You will be greatly missed.

This video shows Bryan singing in his family's accordion shop. As you can see, he was one-of-a- kind and never met a stranger.

Please pray for the Martin family during their time of grief and mourning.

And please make sure to make every second of this life count before your last second is up.

The Night a Stupid Reality Show Made Me Cry

I obviously had deeper feelings toward Danny Gokey than I thought.

Of course, all these boys can sing. Really sing.

But, if any one of them should have stayed, it should have been Danny.

I'd be OK with either one of the other ones going, especially eye-liner boy (even though he does have some incredible pipes on him).

I fast-forwarded through all the talking, commercials, hometown visits, African children's choir, and Katy Perry. Just get to the results already.

My jaw literally dropped when Ryan announced he was going home.

Seeing his good-bye video made me cry.

And, then my stupid DVR shut off just as he was starting to sing the last song, so I have no idea if the judges said anything to him or not.

If you don't watch American Idol, Sarah, here's just a taste of his massive amount of talent.

Danny, I will miss you. And I will buy your record. (Record? Who buys records? Showing your age, Mama Belle.)

One Minute & 30 Seconds of Me (with Beau as a Bonus)

About The 30-Day Shred ...

KFC ... You're dead to me!

Yes, I printed out my coupon for a FREE grilled chicken dinner, including 2 sides from KFC.

I even encouraged my friends to go and print them out.

It was on.

We headed out for a quick lunch last week at our local KFC.

We parked.

We got out of the truck and a man who had just walked out of the establishment said, "They have no sides. Just chicken. And, they're not taking the coupon."

I went on a little rampage and told my friend to get the corporate number so that we could call and complain. Of course, no number on the door. I vowed to call when I got back to work.

How dare they offer this coupon and run out of food?

There was quite a bit of scandal associated with said coupon. If you haven't heard about it, go here. It's a riot. As in, people actually rioted at KFCs to get their chicken.

Now, PETA is quite upset with Oprah for offering this coupon. She was their person of the year or something like that for all the shows she's done on animal cruelty.

Apparently, KFC is quite cruel in their raising and killing of the chickens we all eat.

Now, listen, I can count on one hand the number of times in my life I have eaten at a KFC. We have Popeye's down here. There really is no comparison. However, fried chicken and I don't get along. So, we don't eat it very often.

Back to KFC ... I thought BIG DEAL ... so they're cruel in their killing of the chickens. Does it really matter? They're going to die one way or another. And, seriously, they're chickens. Does it really matter?

Then, I watched this video that made me a little sick to my stomach. 

I probably will not eat at another KFC ever again, unless maybe, I'm on a long road trip, starving to death, and there are no other restaurants for another 500 miles.

I am not a vegetarian or advocating being a vegetarian, but I am a human being who is appalled at the treatment of these chickens. Really appalled.

Will I still eat chicken? Yes. But, if I know that this is going on at this particular establishment, I cannot in good conscience eat there. I would think that the slamming of chickens against the wall, the cutting off of their beaks, and the like wouldn't please God.

I just can't eat there.

And, if I would find out another restaurant was doing the same thing, I would have to withhold my money from them too. 

And I think to myself ... "What a Wonderful World."

That was the background music to my Mother's Day.

It was truly a wonderful day. Why can't every day be like Mother's Day?

#1 - Church

#2 - Two rolls of sushi shared with family while opening presents

#3 - Presents which included, VISA gift card to use toward New York trip, One-hour massage, and local coffeehouse gift card ... PERFECT!

#4 - Lunch at Japanese steakhouse with sassy Japanese chef named, Jay, and lady at opposite side of grill who had too many Bloody Marys and talked way too much

Jay in all his glory

Proud of the fact that K Belle & La Petite Belle caught rice in their mouths on first try (I have taught them well.)

La Petite Belle eyeing grill for fear of flying knives and flames

#5 - Visiting my mom & giving her some great gifts

#6 - Cheesecake at my parent's house

#7 - Watching Beau help my dad with a technology issue (this is a standard visiting activity)

#8 - Watching girls play outside ... playing outside is the best (said with my best Nacho Libre voice).

#9 - Not-so-great movie at home with Beau, but great snacks that made up for it

#10 - Lots of cuddlin' from the hubby

Like I said ... wonderful day! Hope you were blessed too.

What would Beethoven's mom have done?

Last night was eventful.

Actually, it all started in the early afternoon when La Petite Belle had to stay after school for her first detention ever. "Why?," you ask. Let's just say she learned a new word from another wholesome preacher's kid. She then repeated this word she had heard for the first time at this Christian school and was given a detention for profanity. The word ... I know you're wondering ... think of a cruder way to say donkey and you got it. It's so ironic the things kids learn at a Christian school from preacher's kids.

After picking La Petite Belle up from this first-ever detention, which, by the way, she was appalled that she had to serve, we rushed home to get ready for K Belle's piano recital.

The entire time we're rushing all I'm thinking about is about when am I going to do Day 4 of The Shred. When will I have 20 extra minutes?

Anyway, we all shower and get dressed up because I think it's a rule that if you have any type of recital, you have to go to dinner with your family after.

We leave.

We get to the recital.

K Belle says, "Mom, I forgot my music in my piano bag at home."

The recital starts in 10 minutes. No time to go home & back.

I say, "Oh, well. You'll just have to play your pieces without." (I know she has at least one of them memorized.)

And, you know what this child does? Plays them perfectly. No music. Perfect.

Even Jesus stopped and listened.

We were proud of our little musical genius. Music or no music, she did great.
Nana & Poppee were proud too.

Then, out to dinner at Carrabba's.

Still thinking about when that 20 minutes of The Shred is going to happen.
I did eat a salad. Add a cup of soup. And some bread. OK, it wasn't that healthy.

However, I did The Shred at 9:21 p.m. on a full stomach. Day 4 complete.

What makes a good mom anyway?

You know, we always feel like failures as moms. Or maybe it's just me.

The constant fussing and nagging.

The wanting to be alone.

The fast-food or cereal dinners.

The underwear-less drawers.

The punishing.

The having to teach responsibility and consequences.

The giving them too much sugar.

The wishing you read and sang to the second one just as much as the first.

The scrapbooks that sit waiting to be finished.

The not being cool and so out of touch with what's in.

The always being exhausted.

The wishing they would always be open and honest with us.

The fear.

And all the guilt that ensues because of these.

It's makes us just want to give up. It's a whole lot easier to just let them do what they want, isn't it? No fussing or punishments or hard stuff and the like.

Well, that's exactly what we should do.

Just give up.

Not in the way you're thinking.

Just give it up to God. They're His to begin with.

I'm tired of stressing about what kind of parenting job I'm doing when really it should be so simple.

You know the Scripture ...

"Teach a child in the way he should go and when he grows old he will not depart form it." Proverbs 22:6

That's all we can do. Teach them. Pray for them. Love them.

And, NEWS FLASH ... we will never be perfect moms, no matter how hard we try.

The best things we can give our kids is allowing them to see our humanness. When we allow ourselves to not be perfect, they know it's OK to not be perfect.

I pray for opportunities to speak into my girls' lives. Open windows to their souls. Tender moments alone. Treasured conversations.

Those are the things I long for.

I'll take those any day before perfection.

I'm OK with my girls going one day without underwear if you're OK with it. (Please tell me you know me well enough to know that I would never do such a horrendous thing. That would be a horrible-mother thing to do. See ... still not OK with it.)

Oh ... Happy Mother's Day. (That's what this post started out as ... a tribute, but turned into a slap-in-the-face. Oops.)

A Few Things ...

Finished Day 2 of the Shred. Don't think it's any easier. Actually, it's harder. Muscles tight. Sore. Hurting.

Lesson learned: Just because it's Cinco de Mayo does not give anyone the right to eat Mexican food all day long, both lunch and dinner, especially when that person has not one ounce of Mexican blood running through her veins. 

But, it did inspire said person to want to make this for Bible study. (Are you allowed to make anything with the word "margarita" in the title for a Bible study?)

My friend, Carlie, is hosting a local Mother's Day giveaway. It involves cupcakes (here we go with more cakes). Cupcakes that are not only delicious, but beautiful. So beautiful, you might not want to eat them. Or maybe not. (If you're doing the shred, the cupcakes just give you more energy ... so it's OK.) Did I say it was only local? Yeah, it is. Even if you're not local, check out her cakes. Does anyone local read my blog? Hmm ...

Ordered this dress in green. If something looks good on a 6-foot model does not mean it will look good on your 5-foot-1/4-inch frame, (let's just say 5'3") short stuff. Have Stacey and Clinton taught me nothing? Short people cannot wear big, billowy, long dresses and must not wear long shirts that hide their crotch. Deal with it.

This Thursday, May 7th is National Day of Prayer. People all over America will gather and pray for our nation. You can go to this site, tangle.com, a family-friendly and faith-based video sharing site, and submit prayers online on tangle’s Prayer Wall. There are already over 100,000 prayers submitted ... personal prayers for healing, prayers for our nations, prayers for families, and lots more. 

I got an award from H-Mama, whose hubby is actual real friends with my hubby. Weird. Found this out through blogging, not actually meeting. One day we'll meet though. Go visit her. She's cool.

And, why would I not get an award? I'm a recording artist, you know.

(Head cocked to the left)

(Head cocked to the right)

(Just wish I was recording an album and not a voice-over for baby dedications. Oh well, a girl can dream and pretend.)

It's only 20 minutes.

That was my thought yesterday when I opened up my package that included this:

Seriously ... 20 minutes? What's that going to do?

I mean ... I'm in pretty good health. I can run for 45 minutes. I can get through an hour of kick-boxing and aerobics.

20 minutes is gonna be nothin' for me.

So, I decided I would run yesterday before my workout. (I made up my mind as I ran that I would continue to run my 3-4 times a week in addition to doing the 30-Day Shred.) I ran 1 1/2 miles, took a short break to put on dinner, and then started the DVD.

So, the DVD is 20 minutes a day for 30 days.

Ya'll ... it was 20 minutes of work ... hard work. And I was on Level 1. I've still got to get up to Level 2 & 3.

Those 20 minutes felt like an eternity.

If you want a workout that will push you hard and feel 20 minutes of pain, get this.

My favorite lines from the DVD:

(while doing jumping jacks) "There are no modifications for jumping jacks. If 400-pound people can do jumping jacks, so can you." (Well said.)

(while doing butt-kickers) "She is literally kicking her own a**."

(using other girl in DVD as example for sit-ups) "Look at your abs. I would do anything to get abs like yours." (Umm ... HELLO, Jillian ... have you seen your abs?)

"There are no breaks." (She basically said if you want to see results in just 20 minutes a day, it will be intense, and no breaks.)

And, when she says NO BREAKS, she means NO BREAKS ... (warning: there's some not-so-nice words in this video)

And definitely don't ever quit.

I'll keep you posted on the 30-Day progress.

History

No matter what we do in life, we will always have to deal with history ...

history of how events and circumstances have affected our lives,

history of what others have done that have affected us,

history of what we have done.

We can say, "Oh, that's history," and sweep it under the rug like it doesn't mean anything to us.

But, history actually shapes who we are today, so it must be discovered and understood.

We must understand why.

The whys of life kill me. I can't let them go. I've got to have answers. I hate that about myself. The sweeping under the rug sounds a lot more appealing and then, nothing ever hurts or means anything. Just live life superficially. That's easier, right? Wrong.

How can a person go 20 years of their life feeling nothing, only to have gut-wrenching hurts appear after those years? You know the kinda hurt that makes you want to vomit?

History. You must know it. You must understand it. You must deal with it. And, most importantly, you must grow and learn from it.

History will never go away, whether we've ripped up or burned the book. History is etched in our mind forever.

It should be an interesting Saturday.

Instead of sleeping until 8:00 or maybe even 9:00 a.m., I'll be up at 5:30, setting up tables for the massive garage sale we're having AGAIN. (We had one last year and I thought I would not be doing it again for a very long time, but I just accumulated a lot more stuff. Remember, I made $400? I could use that for New York.)

I will be frustrated because there will be people here, ready to shop, when I open up my garage doors, even though it starts at 7:00 a.m. Really, people ... it's not that great. You can wait that extra hour. This isn't WalMart the day after Thanksgiving.

I will be haggling with some lady over paying 25 cents for a JELL-O jelly bean mold.

I will be watching as La Petite Belle cons all shoppers into buying cookies and lemonade.

I will watch as some lady tries to stick her big size-10 foot into my size-7 shoes and thinks they fit as her heel hangs off the back. Am I going to tell her they're too small? Nope.

I will be drinking lots of coffee and eating the traditional powdered donuts (only bought on special occasions). Who doesn't love a good powdered donut?

I will be doing some laughing and eye-rolling with my friends, Carlie & Tiffany, who each have their fair share of stuff to sell. It's massive, ya'll. This is just a picture of half of the garage. We can barely walk in it.

I will start to feel tired and gross at about noon.

I will be counting my earnings by 1:00 p.m. ... then trying to figure out a definite plan of action for Beau and I to not spend the money on something else (hoping we make enough to purchase our plane tickets) ... of course, minus the money I've already spent at my own garage sale ... how dumb. But, look what I got from Carlie.

I will be napping by 2:00 p.m.