one in a million

Monday night was the last night of women's fall Bible study. We went through Priscilla Shirer's study called One in a Million. It follows the Old Testament Israelites as they left Egypt, heading for the Promised Land and what happened to them on that journey. Of the two million original Jews who left Egypt, only two of them actually stepped foot in Canaan. Thus the one in a million statistic.

(I was talking to Debs about this study the other night and she said the title made her think of a song in Miss Congeniality. Remember? It's the song that's playing during the pageant opening when they're all dressed up like the Statue of Liberty and carrying around torches and cutouts of their states. Too funny!)

Back to Bible study. It's hard to know what to say about it, or to explain what it means to me. It comes out so trite. So trivial. So not what it is. So I'll show you this picture instead. At women's Bible study we watch the DVD lesson as a big group (I think there were about 60 of us this time around) and then we divide into small groups by age. Except for my big old Sponge Bob head nearly blocking Kim, I think we're pretty cute! Our Fearless Leader Carol is in the front row wearing the navy top.

This is my sixth Bible study with these women. (Please don't be impressed. This sinful heart needs all the Bible study it can get. I only tell you that to give you an idea of what we've been through together.) The group changes somewhat each time around. (We love new girls!) But Carol has been our leader since I arrived on the scene. I christened her Fearless Leader myself and if you knew what a handful our small group is, you'd know the title is dead on.

Very little small group time (if any) is spent on small talk. We get down to business. Partly because time is short. Mostly because we've realized we're all better off getting right to the tough stuff. The sin stuff. The God stuff. We laugh and cry. And laugh until we cry. Any pretenses are left at the door because when we acknowledge that none of us has it all together, it's a direct route to the only One who does. I'm telling you, any one of these girls could blackmail me for what I've divulged in small group. :)

I'm so thankful God's given me this group for this season of life. I respect each one of these women. They've encouraged me and challenged me. They've made me laugh until my sides nearly split.

Only two of the original Israelites entered the Promised Land together. Praise God 13 of us are entering ours. I wouldn't have wanted to get my feet sandy with anyone else.

"And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching."
Hebrews 10:24-25

mouse in our house

This weekend we found a mouse in our house.

She was dressed to the nines and on the prowl for something good to eat.

At one point I cornered her, but the squirmy thing escaped my grasp...

and traveled to another home in search of something tasty.

They lavished her with goodies, so she set up permanent residence.

The End.

a week of parties

Happy Halloween bloggers!


We've had a week full of Halloween related celebrations because, let's face it, who doesn't like a good excuse to dress up? Sunday night we had the annual youth bonfire and costume contest. Chica was a little bumble bee. Mom bought this costume for her after Halloween last year. I was an 80's rocker. My mom had this mullet wig that served as the inspiration.

One kid thought I was Hannah Montana. Poor Hannah. In his defense, 80's stuff is very "in" right now. I bought most of the accessories last minute at the mall. Another student asked if this was my real hair. In the words of Dwight Schrute, "False. This is not my real hair." I've never been a red head, and I've never rocked a mullet. (Not yet, anyway.)

A few days later Big Girl had two school parties. Costumes weren't allowed (I completely understand!) so Chica wore some festive play clothes, which were much more conducive to playing putt putt golf, bean bag toss and ping pong Plinko. You know your child's at the right institution of education when the best game in Price is Right history is at the fall party. One little girl screamed in excitement every time the ping pong ball bounced down the board.

Reesie came home with a bag full of goodies. I didn't have time to look in it, but another mother in the class did, because later that night she informed me she had removed the Kit-Kat bar and Reese's Cup from her son's treat bag. Guess which clueless mother contributed those?

Yep, I struck out on my first try at age appropriate candy donating. I did it wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Someday I'll be the mom who sends individual bags of Ritz crackers. That Supermom who gets the letter in the mail and knows exactly what to purchase when she goes to Kroger. That mom who wraps each package in festive baggies tied with curly ribbon and an attached spooky poem. This wasn't my year. Rookie.

Wednesday night was the church fall party. Reesie revived her bee costume.

This was one of her favorite games. Her Daddy showed her how to do it.

Check out that follow through!

She loved this game too. Pick an apple from the baby pool. Miss Carol even let her go twice because she was the only child in the room. We hurried out of there after Reesie tried to take a dip in the pool.

Here's the entire family at the bonfire. Chica dipped everything she ate in ketchup.

Tonight she'll be sporting an entirely new costume. We're celebrating Sarah's birthday, going to a few houses and of course, taking enough pictures to wallpaper our house. Here's hoping your child came home with contraband candy courtesy of a delinquent mother so you can swipe it for yourself!!

18 months

Our baby's 18 months, so you know what that means...return of the lamb!

I must say in six months, he's hardly aged at all. As for my baby, she's no longer a baby!!!

To lessen the blow of how big she's become, I shall now document some parts of her 18 month old life as we know it.

Chica loves to help, so I've put her to work. Her favorite tasks are putting laundry in the dryer or basket, emptying the dishwasher and throwing trash in the garbage can. Sometimes she'll help me cook by stirring things or pushing the food processor button. She knows how to locate and fetch diapers, wipes and shoes. When it's time for a diaper change, she'll lay out her changing pad and lie down on her back.

She likes to brush her teeth and comb her hair. When I'm getting ready in the morning, I'll let her play with my makeup brushes. She's been known to swipe some make-up when I'm not looking. She loves to play outside and be anywhere but home. She can throw a ball about five feet away. When music's on she loves to clap and spin around. She likes purses and wallets and can dismantle both in thirty seconds. Every now and then I'll put her on the big girl potty, but she's never gone while on it. She climbs on everything.

She goes to bed around 7:30 P.M. and wakes up around 7:00 A.M. On school days she takes one nap, but on the weekends she'll take two. She eats all kinds of things. Besides turkey and ham lunch meat, she doesn't really like meat. Her favorite food is probably a peanut butter sandwich. When she eats bananas, she picks off the end and hands it to me.

Her verbal skills blow us away and she repeats almost everything we say. The other day I called to Dan in another room. For the next five minutes she walked around the house yelling, "Dan! Dan! Dan!" Here are some of the words she'll say on her own, without us prompting:
Mommy
Daddy
shoes
outside
this
cracker
I want
bye bye
God
stuck
movie
more
no
yes
help me
there
where
please
one
two
book
hot
bath
uh-oh
owie
She's still a Mama's girl, but she's a fearless, busy, wild woman. Her school teachers say she's quiet and perceptive and her nursery teachers say she comforts other babies when they're upset. She loves to tickle you and make you laugh. Sometimes she cracks herself up in the process. When we leave the office, she's Grand Marshall of her own farewell parade. She stops at each door, waves her arm, yells "bye-bye!" and blows a kiss. People tell us she's smart. Others say she's beautiful. And even though we're far away from family, she's lavished with love.

Before we go, our 18 month old daughter would like to wish her baby boy cousin a happy first birthday. We hope Big Sis will share some Muppin Cakes with the precious Birthday Boy!!!

nana's day

Attention bloggers!

Reesie has an important message for someone very special.

By the way, do you see that big, beautiful bow in my daughter's hair? That's all you bloggers! I took your advice and clipped that sucker into the rubber band of her ponytail. All thanks goes to you for your wisdom and Auntie Manda for paving the way. Glory, hallelujah and amen!

baby's got a new pair of shoes

That grin on Chica's face is there for a reason.

She's running around in a new (to her) pair of shoes!

When my sister was here a few weekends ago, I took her to a local children's consignment store. I spotted these pink Nike tennis shoes and I had to have them! I LOVE shopping for Big Girl. Buying second hand allows shopping sprees and ministry salaries to co-exist peacefully under the Hinton roof. The only problem is when we're out in public, it's hard to refrain from sharing my heck of a deal. For example...

Do you see that sweet little turtleneck my daughter's wearing? I bought it brand new, with the tags on for three dollars. THREE AMERICAN DOLLARS PEOPLE! *Ahem* Let this be a warning bloggers that if you see us out and about, it's best not to ask me how much I spent on Chica's Nike Shox. Most likely a cost breakdown of her entire outfit will ensue in a very non-inside voice. You've been warned.


On a different note, I have a hairy dilemma and would love your input. Since my daughter entered the world, it was apparent she'd inherited her mother's stick straight, fine locks. I prayed for her to get her Daddy's hair. I'm sorry Baby, I tried. For the past 18 months, her hair has grown with reckless abandon and nary a scissor has touched it.

And now my Baby is rocking a full blown mullet. To help you picture it, there's a layer of hair that hits the bottom of her ears and then there's a layer about three inches longer underneath. I'm contemplating taking her to a professional to get the bottom layer trimmed a little to blend better with the shorter layer. Make sense? (I know I probably lost all three of the male readers with that last sentence, but when it comes to business on the top and party in the back, that's a risk I'm willing to take.)

Of those I've asked, opinions are 50/50 , and I'm leaning towards cutting it. But I'm a sissy when it comes to any type of change.....so. That's where I am. Stuck between an 80's hairstyle and a hard place.

seasons

"Preach the Word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage—with great patience and careful instruction." 2 Timothy 4:2



"And at his appointed season he brought his word to light." Titus 1:3a


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I promised you pictures of rafting. Check out my valiant husband traversing the roaring rapids. (He's in the front on the far right.)

I guess it's only fair to show you my foolish self. I'm in the second row with the red paddle and mouth wide enough to swallow the entire river.