tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41730952263314597422024-03-19T02:18:45.724-07:00Stuff Happens!Where kids are involved, stuff happens, it is inevitable! Though we don't always want to candidly share those events for fear of judgment, my intention is to shake things up and tell you what really happens . . .Angi Payne Suttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03161692365019930977noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4173095226331459742.post-67469868253939036242010-10-09T15:30:00.000-07:002010-10-09T16:27:33.878-07:00Silencing the Yappers!Seriously . . . I'm beginning to think eviction is definitely in our future. We are running out of excuses to give the neighbors for the behavior of our less than docile grandchildren. Can you be evicted for that? God, I hope not. . .<br /><br />There have been no recent posts, so too much has happened to catch everyone up to speed in one post but the short, short story is that we are currently raising four grandchildren and a pre-teen son of our own with yet another grandson who has a semi-permanent residence here. Thankfully, I now hold two jobs which keeps us all out of the house during weekdays but the early evenings and weekends are absolute hell on our neighbors. If there isn't a petition to rid the neighborhood of the Sutton Family Mini-destructo Team, honestly, there should be.<br /><br />Recent incidents have inspired me to take to the keyboard and let everyone know that 'stuff' is STILL happening here at the Sutton household. I know I must keep it condensed to just a few of their antics because you are busy people and the idea is to entertain you - not send you over the edge. Okay, you're right . . . it is my therapy. These posts are for me, an attempt to maintain my sanity more than anything else, they aren't really about you at all. Still, I hope they might be used as a tool to help you to remember - there is always someone who has it worse than you do!<br /><br />I think I've posted before about the lil' yappers that live at the house behind ours. Never mind that there is a six foot privacy fence between the houses. Their dogs still yap at everything and our grandsons are on a mission to silence them. No matter how many corner standings it may take.<br /><br />The dogs survived their recent shovel attack. No, we don't leave shovels lying around with these two on the loose but Pops' truck is full of a variety of weapons. I noticed yesterday that a six foot ladder lying low in the bed of the truck was somehow removed by the dynamic duo and so I've come to realize the shovel used in the recent yapper dog attack must have been easily removed. And I digress . . .<br /><br />These boys are so intent on silencing these little dogs' yapping that they will use any means necessary and suffer any consequence. Just a couple of days ago they took the mop from the kitchen and quickly found their way to the side fence (which is a four foot chain-link) and harpooned it toward the little guys. Our neighbor must be getting wise to them because this time, she kept the mop. They were furious!<br /><br />Yep! You guessed it. They tattled on the neighbor lady.<br /><br />"Pops! Pops! They neighbor lady kept Ninny's mop!" they cried. "Why was the mop outside boys?" "Because we threw it at the dogs, Pops." "Why did you throw it at the dogs?" "Because they wouldn't shut up!" "Get in the corner, right now! And later, we're going to apologize and get the mop back!"<br /><br />The corner it was and sure enough, after they apologized, she gave the mop back. Still, they didn't seem very upset about the whole ordeal. I think the corner time was worth it to them because at least the neighbor lady got into trouble and had to give the mop back. I might find all of this a bit more entertaining myself but I just recently learned that the neighbor lady - is an aunt to one of my bosses! Can you imagine the conversation in their house during the holidays! Oh, to be a fly on the wall! Or maybe not . . . ;)Angi Payne Suttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03161692365019930977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4173095226331459742.post-21345847528112567772009-07-15T11:12:00.000-07:002009-07-15T11:53:53.481-07:00I Love Me Some "Beesball!"In the Sutton household, there is baseball. We are baseball fans. Not the kind who paint our faces, slosh beer on people in the stadium and fight strangers if they disagree, but we do enjoy the game. Specifically, we are St. Louis Cardinals fans. We start early with the little ones and we train them up in the way they should go -baseball - so when they're old, like us they won't depart from it. . . . Okay. . .okay . . keep reading. I know that doesn't pertain to baseball, just kidding but truly we do love the game.<br /><br />Confession? I think I love it more than the rest of the family. Maybe Scott simply tolerates it the way he tolerates all my other quirks but he seems to enjoy it as well. If he didn't, he'd be a baseball widower for sure! <em>Sorry Honey!</em> Daughter Ashley gets it from her momma. We love Albert Pujols (we really do!) and well, I have a secret baseball crush on Yadier Molina. I know, I know - first of all, I'm married to the best husband a woman can have and secondly . . whose fav player is a catcher anyway? Hmm? Told you I was a bit quirky but it's the truth! The man of the hour as far as I'm concerned doesn't have to be the best hitter with the highest averages. He doesn't have to knock out lights or run like lightening. He simply has to be good at what he does, solid, consistent, with good follow through and be there when it counts. Isn't that what every woman wants? Isn't that what Yadi delivers? Of course it is . . .thus, my fav player is the catcher . . 'nuff said.<br /><br />So, last night, the All-stars game was played at St. Louis. Won't happen again probably as long as I'm alive, so it was an exciting time at our house. Nope, we didn't fight the hours of traffic and the tight security, shoulder to shoulder with thousands of people and paying way too much for tickets. We opted for the family pile in the family room, stuffing our faces with fast food and yelling so loud the neighbors probably thought we were fighting - but we didn't care. We had a good time. No, National League didn't win. AL got it again, but just barely . . .and I do mean barely. That's okay - get'em next year. Great players on either side, no bottom of the batting order on either side, huh? No poor outfielders or slackers far as I could see. . . and I know, we really needed that HR but you have to give credit where credit is due . . . Good Catch Crawford! I'm mean really . . . good catch (too bad it wasn't for the other side).<br /><br />Anyway, as I said, watching the game is family fun and a family pile. Kids everywhere with adults under them. Sometimes you wonder whether they are paying attention at all (the kids I mean) but I must say, Brody has come to love "Beesball" about as much as his Ninny. If you can't find us, we're off in the bedroom, faces glued to whoever is playing at the moment. Though he is fairly consistent about watching and has quite a wind up with the remote (<em>Oh, God, please don't let him throw it at the television!</em>) I've never really thought he gave that much attention to <em>who</em> was playing. After all, he's only two and a half.<br /><br />We always talk about the players, their hits, misses and home runs and of course our fav names pop up at least once every five minutes. So, last night as we were watching, I was doing my usual, attempting to get the babies to chant Yadi's name over and over when Brody who is leaned back on his haunches give me his famous all-teeth, cheesy grin and says "No, Ninny . . . Abut Peehoes!" Well, there ya have it! We all agree on baseball, our fav team and even what to eat while watching but as far as fav players . . . well, even the pint-sized fans have their own opinions! I'm jus' sayin' . . .Angi Payne Suttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03161692365019930977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4173095226331459742.post-86889283026566093132009-07-11T19:04:00.000-07:002009-07-11T20:04:29.303-07:00No Nap For Ninny!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPe5J0rZeQ2t4nOfMT46-iYUI9gxMCfX8ad7QTibvlbWAoElEuIFlIWiZxH5h0PxF5713fJWdCzM3UTVS12ZWNiBXyQh4-51Q35e-k-2pqDCGNXn46tigivH1_cRjmze9j2chGYNvAFTk/s1600-h/Poppyand.bmp"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357398188957676050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPe5J0rZeQ2t4nOfMT46-iYUI9gxMCfX8ad7QTibvlbWAoElEuIFlIWiZxH5h0PxF5713fJWdCzM3UTVS12ZWNiBXyQh4-51Q35e-k-2pqDCGNXn46tigivH1_cRjmze9j2chGYNvAFTk/s320/Poppyand.bmp" /></a> <div><div></div><div>So, today was nice. We had a family BBQ. We do that alot. Scott has a Traeger grill and looks for any excuse to fire her up. The occasion? It was for my baby brother. Some of you Jed, my "baby" brother who happens to be nearly 30 and 6 1/12 feet tall, but my baby brother nonetheless. </div><br /><div></div><div>The day began rainy so we decided to move everything inside at our house. The food was yummy, the conversation was great and it was nice to have everyone together, though in a really close, careful not to eat too much or we won't be able to slide past each other sort of way. I don't live in the biggest, fanciest house in town. Yeah, I know, that surprises you all but really, it's the truth. We had nearly 35 people and on short notice seating for about 10. And did I mention, I didn't clean the house? Oops! </div><div></div><div>Oh, well, I think we did fine. It was, as I said, a good time. Still, as with any function where the main goal is to stuff your face as full as you can as fast as you can, when it's over, well, that's good too. Time for a nap. Curl up next to the hubby 'cause we're old like that. That's what we old folks do right? Or not . . . </div><br /><div></div><div>Oh, no . . the grandkids came today. Well, Josh and Miley I mean. The others were already here. Josh and Mimi haven't been here for a few days though. They kind of wander in and out at will. You know, when they get tired of mom and dad or mom and dad get tired of them - they come to Ninny and Pops. They actually live about twenty miles away and were coming for the cookout today but guess what - come time to go home, I drive twenty miles to drop them off and they're not staying. "I no go home Ninny, I stay wi-choo! I go see Pops! I go to you house." Nearly fifteen minutes of persuasion didn't change his mind. He had decided. He was going home with Ninny. </div><br /><div></div><div>Was I surprised? Of course not. Were you? Of course not. Not if you are one who has seen a grandchild at work. Something about the mop-headed, grimy-faced little curtain climbers that you simply cannot say no to. I knew it was going down that way. I planned to put up a good fight. I had a good argument. Am I a bad Ninny? No, it's just that tomorrow is Sunday, I'm married to the pastor, I need to be in service not manning the Nursery which seems to be where I log most of my church hours these days. No, I cannot take the children tonight. They need to go home tonight. I'll get them Monday. Monday is good right? Not much goes on on Mondays - good day for grandkids to come and stay. </div><br /><div></div><div>Okay, whatever, not happening. Why do I try? So, as I write . . . </div><br /><div></div><div>They are running crazy around the house. They want pizza, they want wah-wah, they want left over cheesecake! Now that should settle them down just fine, don't you think? They have taken turns trying to poke each other's eyes out and Miley, the pint-sized girlie, girl of the bunch is in most instances, the aggressor! They are fighting over the remote and turning over the kitchen chair and yes, peeing in my floor! What is it about this potty-training thing? Do I need to get puppy pads or WHAT! I swear I'm gonna super-glue those diapers on if they don't stop that! Or would it be better just to chain them in the back yard? I don't know, I'll have to ask the grandparenting experts about that one . . . . </div><br /><div></div><div>Anyway . . at the end of the day, those babies really do bring us joy and we really are pleased to have them here - even when it means missing a much coveted ate too much this afternoon nap. As much as we all sometimes annoy each other we really are a happy little group. At the end of the day, like a pile of puppies we curl up on the couch, in the chair or wherever. Though I really did want that nap this afternoon, I guess I'll have plenty of time for sleeping when they're grown. Right now, I think I'll join the puppy pile in the pic above . . . I'm jus' sayin' . . . </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div></div>Angi Payne Suttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03161692365019930977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4173095226331459742.post-89638647497923048002009-07-10T07:39:00.000-07:002009-07-10T13:22:07.962-07:00Naked DS Bandit . . With Bad Eyesight!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJeX8aSvY1i0JDebEd_3nC2Dj891avU0WK5tPMYVpY4njT73Q8I-ZlQA-EuPA1WtAP9GQ0Z3a8K8B5CWLclidTeuCExCjBLZwcCEOHe38EAn1S1am2LR_bQ5Qj4RB_i5ZqBU8ZhLlrbiQ/s1600-h/B-Man+DS.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356929373396826194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJeX8aSvY1i0JDebEd_3nC2Dj891avU0WK5tPMYVpY4njT73Q8I-ZlQA-EuPA1WtAP9GQ0Z3a8K8B5CWLclidTeuCExCjBLZwcCEOHe38EAn1S1am2LR_bQ5Qj4RB_i5ZqBU8ZhLlrbiQ/s320/B-Man+DS.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#330000;">Roughly twelve hours from my last post and I find fodder for the baby fans of the world! </span></div><br /><br /><p align="justify"><span style="color:#330000;">B-man is smack in the middle of potty training. Early or late training? I don't care - I'm the grandma - I just want him to stop peeing on my bedroom wall! But, that is not the subject this morning. I made note of that, to say this; naked butts under three at our house is not an odd thing. In fact, the majority of my pictures must be carefully cropped so as not to show toooo much flesh (too many crazies in the world, ya know).</span></p><br /><p align="justify"><span style="color:#330000;">B-man has his morning routine already set. He scales the prison wall we like to call a crib, finds his way to MY bathroom, climbs to the bathroom counter, sits in my sink, finds a toothbrush, usually NOT his own and brushes his teeth. After that, he climbs down, sheds his nighttime diaper and climbs onto the potty. I only wish I could show you a picture of THAT! Anyone ever seen a cat who uses a real toilet? Well, I have and Brody reminds me of that cat! It's crazy! But right now, anytime the urine goes into the toilet, however it gets there, I'm a proud grandma. This though, also not today's subject. . . </span></p><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#330000;">After his morning routine, he joined me in the family room. Me on my computer, him on the couch. He had managed to steal his Uncle D's Nintendo DS (he KNOWS he's not supposed to touch the thing) and was playing away! I guess he decided the screen was too small and but he soon found exactly what he needed; one of Ninny's pairs of reading glasses. </span></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#330000;">So, as I looked over my shoulder this morning, my eyes beheld a completely naked grandson, wearing reading glasses, playing a stolen Nintendo DS. Thanks to my relatively new iPhone, I snapped a cute little pic I thought I'd share with you . . . naked bottom excluded. Do you think he's headed for a life of crime or just a nudist colony? I'm jus' sayin' . . . </span></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div>Angi Payne Suttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03161692365019930977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4173095226331459742.post-22175458639112314542009-07-09T19:41:00.001-07:002009-07-09T20:05:35.461-07:00Knee-Hi Computer Tech<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBV7xNKyAjPzAAwyZbAH2-WOvfSlu2L8ZuNMMSRygT9XncJAkWWId9PVDj8Xv0a7BGw0we_lN-gR6icDDToSG_7IWn9JF_VbnLR23_Tjs_5u3ppSZQ6hMWfwHG6RzxpK2IMumUAJn59IA/s1600-h/IPHONE-JUNE29+018.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356662170449910258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBV7xNKyAjPzAAwyZbAH2-WOvfSlu2L8ZuNMMSRygT9XncJAkWWId9PVDj8Xv0a7BGw0we_lN-gR6icDDToSG_7IWn9JF_VbnLR23_Tjs_5u3ppSZQ6hMWfwHG6RzxpK2IMumUAJn59IA/s320/IPHONE-JUNE29+018.JPG" /></a><br /><div>Okay! Here we go! </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>How long did it take for the grands to give me new material? Well, only a few minutes after the sun rose but I'm going to pick a special one tonight. I am typing only because I've spent a painstaking hour and a half replacing the keys on my laptop keyboard. Sound like fun? Well, it isn't.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Which one? The two year old. Brody. He's cute as a angel, cupid has nothing on him but he is a rowdy little imp. I know better than to leave a computer in a room that isn't filled with adults at all times, yet I did it anyway. Go figure. Brain lapse I guess. I've got some paperwork spread out in a corner of my living room (make shift office), which is not where I normally place my computer, except that I recently got my wireless router working and thus, I am more mobile. A good thing right? Apparently not tonight. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Did he crawl up to the computer and not so gently pluck 10+ keys from the keyboard? Yes he did. He caught everyone otherwise occupied. Grandparents, a set of parents, an uncle and a cousin in the house and not one person discovered his evil plot to destroy my only means of communication with the outside world until well after his hot little fingerprints had cooled! </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>My laptop, more affectionately nicknamed by my daughter "my favorite child" is very near and dear to my heart. I could sooner go without food than without my computer. I'm sorry. I'm looking for a 12 Step program but until then, some things simply are what they are . . . </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Okay, I know you're wondering, did I yell? No . . I couldn't. Ever been too distraught to yell? Well, I was but I did run through a series of teeth-clenched, <em>Oh, no. Oh, no. No, I know you didn't. Oh my God! I know you didn't</em>s and even though I didn't yell at him, I think he got the picture. Ninny was a little miffed!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>What makes a two year old crawl up into a chair in the corner and say "I sorry, Ninny, I sorry," and then come back an hour into your computer reconstruction surgery and lean over the back of the sofa and say "I nice, Ninny. I nice"? Only the realization that he's willfully done something horribly wrong. He's two and a half years old and nothing will convince me that he didn't absolutely know Ninny was NOT going to be happy when she discovered his work, yet he did it anyway. Why? I'm guessing because he could . . . and because he knew, the minute those big blue eyes and shiny white baby teethed smile flashed my way, I would turn to mush. . .</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Okay, so maybe I didn't turn to mush instantaneously but now that he's in his little bed with his pj's on and those big blue eyes shut for a few hours of battery recharging . . . I'm about as mushy as I can get. . . I'm jus' sayin'. </div>Angi Payne Suttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03161692365019930977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4173095226331459742.post-42999675113267127992009-07-08T13:18:00.000-07:002009-07-08T13:52:16.218-07:00Shop-Vac Shenanigans!I am convinced that I would be a millionaire if only I knew the right person to contact regarding a reality tv contract. There are times I look at what goes on around me and I think to myself - you can't make this stuff up! The kids are running wild, the house is a mess and all is utter chaos!<br /><br />Oh, I know. You've heard that before. Maybe even seen it if you've popped in on a friend when she wasn't expecting you but you haven't seen anything yet, I promise . . .at least not the way we do it at our house.<br /><br />Case point. The other day I walked into my family room and as usual, the shop-vac was sitting in the middle of the floor where my two and three year old grandsons were "wapuming". All good, I'm used to the noise and the dirt that remains after they've cleaned. As a matter of fact, I'm accustomed to them dumping what was already in the vacuum out onto the semi-clean floor. It's how they help Ninny clean.<br /><br />But today? Today is different. I entered the room to find my shop-vac lid off and two little boys, pants down, pointed and aimed to pee in the machine! No, I'm not kidding! Yes, I did yell out! "No, No, No, No! Stop! Don't Do it!" Okay, so, the good news is . . .they stopped. Usually, when I yell, they don't.<br /><br />So, it was a good day but I'm not always so fortunate. Okay, truthfully, I'm rarely so fortunate. I have five grandchildren, two of which live with me, two others who are always with me and one which I rarely see. Yep! You guessed it. She's the good one!<br /><br />Sometimes the stuff they do is simply too cute. Sometimes it makes me want to run screaming into the night, pulling my hair out. <em>Stuff happens</em> so much that I often post on my Facebook, MySpace, etc. accounts just to share the crazy things they do but then I realized. Some things can't be explained fully in 140 characters or less - so I find myself here.<br /><br />Whether it is as I hope, entertainment and support for those who share my plight or simply therapy for a stressed out Ninny, hopefully you will see or hear something that will make you chuckle or at least sigh in relief that you are not alone! Thanks for stopping in!Angi Payne Suttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03161692365019930977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4173095226331459742.post-8520113248182987642007-09-14T10:15:00.000-07:002007-09-14T10:17:00.727-07:00It’s a crazy world we live in, isn’t it? I am a 40 year old mother but I’m raising a grand child as well. Married to the pastor of a local church who also has a day job, I stay at home. I rear the children, do part time secretarial work at our church and make my very best attempt to write – something, anything every day. <br /><br />Finally it is quiet again during my days; fairly quiet anyway. Having just come off a six month stint of foster parenting my newest grandson, spending the summer entertaining him and my eight year old son and five year old grand daughter, I have finally gotten them settled into school and the youngest with momma. I now have a little more time to think. <br /><br />The trouble is that there are so many things to think about. If you followed my brain waves you could only do so by moving from place to place at the speed of light. That is if you intended to keep up with them. Don’t understand? I’m not surprised. But that is exactly what I mean! <br /><br />Just a little while ago, I was looking in the cabinets to plan this week’s grocery list. While I was looking over the meager supply I was mentally and emotionally preoccupied with my grown daughters. (Which, if you have grown children, you understand why we are financially stable enough for me to be an at-home mom yet our cabinets hold a meager supply.) <br /><br />Both of my girls have families. Yet, both are financially unable to care for those families. A lack of work ethic, not enough birth control and drug addiction all play a part in their delicate situations. Yes, I said drug addiction. You won’t find me as one of those parents attempting to cover up the reality in my family. The only thing more embarrassing than addiction taking control of a child is an enabling parent trying to cover it up. (Thus far I believe the better part of my family to be in a partial denial – so if you see them – don’t mention this. . .)<br />No seriously. As I was checking my cabinets and thinking about what to make for dinner, I was also thinking about drug addiction and enabling. At the same time I was wondering what kind of casserole I could top off with the small pieces left in the chip bag I was asking myself how many more times am I going to help my grown child out with food, bills, etc. before I come to the end of myself. Am I an enabler?<br /><br />Is that not the craziest thing?! Well, that is what led me here. To find both answers I sat down in front of this skinny flat book like thing on my desk that connects me to the outside world. Truthfully, I can find the answer to my recipe question with relative ease and as for general information regarding my enabling personality and activities? That type of information is easily found on the World Wide Web. As for whether or not I am an enabler – we probably both know the answer to that as well, but I’m working on that and in the mean time, I want to take a minute to say to those of you who have similar or even worse situations . . . We can find general information here, on the computer, support from friends or colleagues, or even other family members, but let’s remember not to leave God out of the equation. <br /><br />Though alternatives to the 12 Step Program are being offered in order to leave God OUT of it – I still believe HE is where we must begin - whether we are the addicted or we are addicted to the addicted, God and His principle for our lives are the answer. <br /><br />Be encouraged in the Lord! There is hope and help for my baby and yours! I will be praying for you . . . please pray for us! God Bless!<br /><br />2 Samuel 22:7 <br />In my distress I called upon the Lord, and cried to my God: and He did hear my voice out of His temple, and my cry did enter into His ears.Angi Payne Suttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03161692365019930977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4173095226331459742.post-27809297072151467142007-08-29T21:05:00.000-07:002007-08-29T21:17:44.877-07:00It is eleven twelve pm on August 29th, 2007. I am sitting at a friends computer so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. Tomorrow, I go home. I have been here for several days. My friend and I have worked together, talked together, relaxed together, shopped together, etc. The day I left for this trip, I had lunch with a minister friend of mine - like a grown up woman - all by myself. To most of you that tidbit of information is not important, but there are of few of you out there with envy in your hearts. Oh yes, I know you're out there.<br /><br />Why is it significant that I ate lunch, then traveled alone, doing grown up things? I am a grandmother. Not just any ole grandmother, but I am a grandmother with small children in the house. Though I have an eight year old of my own, I am also raising a grand daughter. Recently, I returned a grand son to his mother. Rather, the court system has. Long story, more on that later. Anyway, times are few and far between that I get to make a bathroom trip alone, much less take a trip or have a lunch date. I have been confined to my house for what seems like decades, but they opened the gate recently and I ventured outside. I like it. And guess what? The world hasn't come to an end. My family has survived and so have I. Matter of fact, I think they like me better.<br /><br />Though my situation seems to getting better, there are those out there with situations that seem to have no end in sight. Are you one of those people? If you are, I would love to hear from you. Now that I may once again be able to resume my writing career, I am interested in hearing your story. Please send me a hello or email me at <a href="mailto:aksutton40@gmail.com">aksutton40@gmail.com</a>. In the mean time - don't give up. What you are doing is worth it. It's not for the big kids anyway, right? It's for the grands - and they are definitely grand. Don't you think? Let me know.Angi Payne Suttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03161692365019930977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4173095226331459742.post-5929570196101412102007-08-16T07:28:00.000-07:002007-08-16T08:16:00.965-07:00School started today! Praise the Lord! Sure, it has it's drawbacks. No quiet mornings while everyone is sleeping because they stayed up too late the night before, but welcome are the long quiet days! Now maybe I will get to some writing and finish those late lessons.<br /><br />It is always difficult at first around our house though. My grand daughter started kindergarten this morning. She was full of excitement as she anticipated going to school, but when she actually arrived and grandma was leaving, it was quite a different story. Her tears came instantly and mine came as I drove away from the school.<br /><br />My son began the 3rd grade this morning with a full understanding of what was going to happen, but still cried about it last night. He simply would rather be with me all day. The funny thing is that being with me constitutes sitting in his room, playing his Nintendo DS, watching his tv and only coming out long enough to inform me he wants chicken nuggets, pizza, or hamburgers and tea. Other than an occasional cinnamon roll or pancake for breakfast that IS his diet. He likes things the way he likes them. Don't we all. Creatures of habit - good or bad. We like it like it has always been. We want to do what we've always done. It's comfortable and easy.<br /><br />I am definitely a creature of habit. I recently went on a 21 day fast. I've never fasted that long before, but I felt it was spiritual ground I needed to take. Going in, I was honest with God. <em>"I don't think I can do this, but out of obedience, I'll try."</em> The truth is, I like stuffing my face with whatever I want, whenever I want and when I am under stress, I like it even more. Like others, I like things the way I like them. <br /><br />Most of us do not like to be pushed out of that comfort zone we have nestled into, but most often, the best things in life lie just outside. <br /><br />Miracles began to happen and the Spirit of God began to move mightily as I moved through that 21 days of fasting and my personal discomfort became a small thing in comparison. Did I know that that would happen as I contemplated such a long fast? No, I did not and I would not have if I had not forged ahead into uncharted territory.<br /><br />It is the same with my 3rd grader and my kindergarten bound grand daughter. They will experience wonderful things they never dreamed possible, but only after they endure the hardship of their first days and weeks in a strange new place with strange new people. <br /><br />My first inclination is to save them from their discomfort. Bring them home, homeschool them until their fifty and forget about the outside world forever - but that would harm them - not help them. It would squelch who God designed them to be, just as hiding in our comfort zone does to us. Our first inclination is to run from the new things God places in front of us, but in a word of advice - don't. Many times God has shown himself faithful but not until I have demonstrated a willingness to step out beyond what I knew to be solid ground. A challenge to you. Try it, just once, just a little, and see what will happen . . . you won't be sorry!<br /><br />Be blessed!Angi Payne Suttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03161692365019930977noreply@blogger.com1