Wednesday, August 26, 2009
So this year I turned 30. Kind of a bummer. The sound of twenty-something sounds youthful and so many cool experiences happened in those 10 years. I was still in college living in a dorm and finishing my first year book, graduated from college, moved to Houston, was girls minister at HFBC, went and planned many mission trips to Latvia, Nashville, and Houston, planned camps, retreats, sang at lots of different venues,...and most most importantly I got married and had my two boys. Seriously, the best 10 years of my life and God blessed me in abundance.
Now, I am 30 and the excitement has slowed down a little and monotony of everyday care of my boys is getting to me. I know that these 10 years will be totally different with all the experiences that comes with a family. However, I needed to mark it with an adventure, and that is just what I did. For the past few years, I have been wanting a nose piercing and Christine and I have planned on doing it together. It did not feel right until we went out of town to celebrate my 30th birthday in College Station beginning of August. It also marked a new revelation of freedom to me. It did not really matter what anyone else thought...I was doing because I wanted it. Not the twenty something Michelle.... but the thirty something Michelle who has FINALLY come terms with how God views me and not afraid of how people view me.
So, now that that spiel is over, here we go. I was a little hesitant at first because it is always fun to entertain an idea, but to actually do it....your stomach can do some summersaults. We found a incredibly clean piercing place that was more sterile than a hospital and it was actually affordable. He was the most reputable guy around town, had a nickname that I will have to sensor from this blog, was dressed in scrubs and I felt very confident that yes, my nose was going to get the best treatment from this perfectly manicured eyebrow dude. He explained to me that getting his eye brows waxed hurt worse than a piercing. I will have to disagree strongly on that one. Moving on, Christine decided to go first and that was my first mistake. When you get a piercing, do not give yourself time to think about it. I was sick to my stomach. Jill was kind enough to distract me by talking to me and Natalie found it fun to laugh at me. They proceeded to ask me in jest how my choir director was going to like my nose piercing on Sunday morning with my robe. We don't wear robes, but they guy who was having us fill paperwork out thought I was odd for sure.
I did not hear any yelping from Courageous Christine in the piercing room and she came out with her studded nostril like he was not big thing. So, I went in and of course asked a bazillion questions, and told him that I could faint and please do not let me stand up without his assistance, did I mention that I don't want this to go wrong? I was talking in circles because I was nervous. He was a very fine piercer, and talked me through it all. "Forcepts in the nostril.", "Poke through the nose", "Twist in the nose screw" and he was done. Phew! I will say that yes, it did hurt, and hurt even worse when my towel caught on it the next morning. UGH!
However, Christine and I did it and we love it. So, for those of you who think this is a mid-life crisis...you are dooming me to live till 60...so let's not go there.
A little nauseous...Jill was trying to distract.... (I am a dork..I know)
Christine being laid back as usual...He was about to mark her nose with a plastic wrapped sharpie. (Sterile I tell you!)
Okay...I admit I can be a little high strung...
Ah yes...the finished product....beautiful.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Ever since college I have realized that the world is small and everyone seems to be connected somehow. It all started when I moved from Dallas the summer after I graduated from college and started working at Houston's First Baptist. The youth minister that I worked for, John Durham, moved to Irving to be the pastor at First Irving. Then friends one by one started moving, for whatever reason, from Houston to Dallas and joining that church. At the same time, my roommates from college at Dallas Baptist and other college friends started going to First Irving and befriending each other. Janelle, Amanda, Amber, Melissa, Lauren, Kristin, just to name a few.
So moving forward and totally unrelated, when we moved out we started going to Houston Northwest and I befriended Stacie. After getting to know her, I realized that she knew a guy, Brandon, from Mansfield that was one of my brother's best friends from middle school. To make our world smaller, Brandon was marrying her sister-in law (her husband's sister). Eleven years ago I sang at Brandon's brothers wedding. Upon knowing that I sing at weddings, she suggested that I sing at Brandon's. Perfect!
A few weeks ago, I headed up to Dallas for a fun weekend. My old youth pastor, Larry, was officiating the wedding so I was excited to spend the weekend with him and his wife. Saturday morning came and Larry lost his voice completely. Stacie called me around 2 pm in the afternoon (the wedding was at 6) saying that they needed to find a new minister and if I knew anyone. Then it dawned on her that my brother could do it because he is a licensed minister. I called Matt and was like, "Hey, uh...how do I ask you this...uh.....you feel like doing a wedding" and he responded saying, "Uh...sure? I have never done that before, but uh...sure...anything for Brandon."
I was sweating bullets for both of us up until the time of the wedding. First of all, I could not trust the pianist as far as I could throw him, and for my brother obviously who was not acting stressed at all. I absorbed it all. The service started and Matt did incredible. He forgot to seat the guests and hey, for a first timer...if that is all that happened, that is awesome. In fact, the audience thought it was funny, since he made the aware that he was a fill-in at the last minute. I nearly cried my eyes out listening to my baby brother and his little sermonette was perfect and really the best I have heard in the many weddings that I have attended. I am surprised that I held it together to sing, but somehow we managed to pull it off.
So if you ever need to book us...we are available! :)
Saturday, August 15, 2009
I can hear it now, "You see this scar?....My brother gave it to me!" It started out as a beautiful morning and we met Shawna and the girls at the splash park in her neighborhood. The boys love this park and it is the perfect solution to having a water activity and not having to get both boys in the pool by myself. The kids were enjoying themselves and Shawna and I were having great conversations intermittedly between bathroom breaks and me running after Jack making sure his ear plugs were staying in his ears and not being used as chewing gum. I heard Jack cry and I ran over to where the boys were playing with a metal squirter gun. Keegan had accidently hit him with it, but Jack popped back up and played some more. This contraption is fun, but dangerous. You lift it up and water shoots out and then the kids it get bored with it and they let go, swinging it the other direction with lots of force. Not even ten minutes later I heard Jack squeal and saw blood gushing out of his face and down his chest. The water gun had swung and hit him again, but this time very hard. Fighting the nausea, I grabbed him and saw the inch long gash on his chin. Keegan went home with Shawna and I took Jack to the doctors office knowing full well that this was going to be an awful experience.
The doctor took one glance at it and said, "This is not going to be fun. The younger they are the harder it is." Enough said. I called Jonathan in for reinforcement. They pulled out this papoose looking thing to secure his arms and leg. He was terrified and his little blue eyes looked at me to rescue him. For a long 15 minutes, I stroked his head, sang to him, cried, tried not to look at what the doctor was doing, told the nurse that this was awful, and then it was over. Jack was released from his papoose and the sobs were so sad. He had a death grip on me and had no plans on letting go. I know this seems weird, but I loved that moment. For the next hour he was either laughing hysterically, or crying hysterically. Poor guy, rough morning.
Back to Keegan. I was very frusturated at him at the splash park and in my state of mind, I could not believe that he hit Jack again. I scolded him and then regretted it all day...he is just 3! I got him home for his nap and he cried himself to sleep saying, "I broke Jack's chin". I loved on him and told him I was sorry that I yelled at him because it was an accident, but at the same time he needed to obey mommy. Poor guy, rough morning too.
I am glad that I already got one experience under my belt with stitches, and I hope it will be my last!