How did that get there?

Here in Texas, we don't have seasons exactly.  That being said, once the temperature drops below 85 degrees for the first time, we flock to the stores for chilli fixin's.  On Sunday I made my second giant batch in three weeks.  

I employ the tactics of Wonderlynn and double the recipe, so I can freeze half.  In retrospect, it was obviously a bad decision to pour from a giant pot into a large bowl while wearing a long sleeved white shirt.  

I wasn't surprised, then, when it splattered all over me. 

 

I was surprised, however, when I started doing laundry and pulled the shirt to spray some Spray 'n Wash on it. 

 

How on earth did I get chilli in my armpit???

Photo Purge

I should be asleep right now. 

But I'm not, so I'll fill you in on what's been keeping me so exhausted of late.

The most obvious change is that school started.  

 

Padre continued a tradition for the 22nd (I think?  My math is fuzzy right now.) year by sending me flowers on the first day of school.  He's the best dad there is.  It's my favorite part of a new school year beginning, and I love to brag about how thoughtful he is every year as people ooh and aah over flowers and ask who sent them.  These ones were champs, and they lasted two weeks! 

This is the first year in as long as anyone can remember that my district has started school on a Monday.  Needless to say, we were practically comatose by Friday afternoon.  That would be the same Friday afternoon that I crashed into bed before dinnertime, undeterred by the sun shining through the bottom of my window.  Saturday morning I was energized and ready to tackle a bunch of projects, including the last patch of unpainted hallway above the stairs.  I had gotten most of it done before school began, including the part directly above the stairs.  That part involved some acrobatics and a very sturdy ladder, along with lots of prayer and a "does this look safe to you?" text to madre.  

There was one last spot I couldn't get to with the ladder, so I pulled a MacGyver and taped a paintbrush to the end of the roller extender rod.  It worked like a charm.  I did all the trim up to the ceiling without one miss!

 

I also began a project that I finally finished last night.  

When I moved into my house, I discovered this cute spice rack hanging on the inside of the pantry door.  

 

As you can see in the picture, though, not all spice jars fit upright on the shelves.  I wanted a better solution.  I talked to my friend Gina, mother of the world's cutest baby-who-turned-one-yesterday (That's safe to say right?  I think he's the only baby I know who had a birthday yesterday.) to see if she had some baby food jars I could take off her hands.

 

Some chalkboard paint, a handmade stencil, and a few hours later...

 

Big improvement!! Look how cute they are!!  Here's a closeup: 

 

I ended up picking a few of the spices I use the most frequently and put in a large order to spicebarn.com.  I am pretty much set for the next few years. 

This weekend marked something even more exciting and noteworthy than the beginning of school - the opening weekend of Aggie football season!  My Ags made their SEC debut at home against Florida.  ESPN came out to host College GameDay, and seemingly everyone in the world was at the game.  I went full SEC mode and wore boots and pearls to a friend's watch party.  

To really get in the spirit of beatin' the hell outta those gators, I called around until I found a retailer who sold alligator meat.

 

I watched the game at a friend's house with a few coworkers.  Our host's wife graciously left me detailed instructions and ingredients for frying up the gator tail, which took me all of halftime and the better part of the third quarter.

 

At some point during this preparation, one of the guys asked me if there was bone in the meat.  I responded by asking "Aren't alligators invertebrates?  I don't think they have bones."

This was met with a very loud and dismayed "YOU'RE A SCIENCE TEACHER!!!!" followed by a lot of laughter in my direction.  I haven't bothered to look this up.  I'm still trying to figure out whether alligator is considered seafood or land-food.  

 

Thankfully, I managed to cook up the two pounds of gator without burning down the house (as predicted by the host) and somehow without noticing that cute tea kettle directly behind the pan I used for frying.  

The verdict?  The boys said the gator was good.  I was underwhelmed.  It wasn't bad, but I definitely wouldn't spend $12.99 a pound on it again when I could spend that money on a nice steak instead.

I was left with a slight lingering insecurity about my science-teaching ability, though. 

Fast forward to Sunday afternoon.

I was at school setting up safety stations to teach the students about all the lab safety equipment this week.  One of the stations was the Eyewash Station.

Here's the thing.  All the eyewash stations I have seen in our safety material and resources look like this:

I do not have one of those in my room.  I didn't have one last year, either.  That being said, both rooms are super old.  Many changes have been made to how labs are set up since they were first built. I did have this little guy, shown below, in my room.  Trying to be a thorough teacher (and to rid myself of any doubt that this also qualifies as an eyewash station), I wanted to check it out.

 

You can't see it in the picture, but there's a little lever on the back that you would pull.  My thought process included the assumption that the eyewash station wouldn't work unless the sink was running. 

That assumption, like most, was incorrect.

As soon as I pulled the lever, water began gushing everywhere.

As I laughed at myself, I was reminded that I need to show a little (read: a lot) more patience with my 11 and 12 year old students.  That being said, I do need to avoid catastrophes whenever possible.  As a result, this: 

 

was quickly updated for my students as this:

 

Love, 

Murphy & Me

Back to the Grind

Sorry for my extended absence.  

School started last Monday, and it is wiping me out.  

Last night I went to bed before midnight for the fourth time in seven days.  

Such bedtimes have included: 9:30 pm (last night), 7:30 pm (last Thursday night), and... wait for it... 6:45 pm (last Friday, after sleeping ten hours the night prior). 

That's right.  I skipped dinner and went to sleep earlier than most restaurants call an end to happy hour.  And I'd do it again in a heartbeat.  

All that to say, it might be a bit before I can stay awake long enough to type something of real substance.  In the meantime, feel free to send caffeine my way.  

Speechless

School starts tomorrow. 

I should be thinking about the last few things I need to get done before then.

Actually, I should be sleeping. 

Instead, I'm thinking about this handsome little man: 

 

That's him on his first day of school recently.

Last week he celebrated his fourth birthday.

Who is he exactly?  I'm going to let my precious friend Megan tell you.  Megan and I were roommates our sophomore year in college.  By the grace of God and the persistence of a few other friends of ours who are better at staying in touch with people than Meg and I are, we have continued to be friends, even though we live in different hemispheres.  

Since January of 2011, Megan has been living in Zambia working for Family Legacy.  Our other former roommate Katy has worked for them for several years as well, and after quite a few trips back and forth, she joined Megan as a resident of Zambia at the beginning of this summer.  

Even though they are so far away and seven hours ahead, the wonders of technology have enabled us to keep in touch... as much as, if not more than, we did while they were living in the United States.  Just yesterday, I got to face time with Katy for a full hour!  

Okay, enough background.  The following is Megan's blogpost about the boy pictured above.  With her permission, I copied and pasted it directly onto mine, but you can read it also on her blog here.

"I have an amazing story to tell you about a little boy. He turned 4 years old this week. He is a sweet, smart, and precious boy who is already displaying the Lord's glory.

When he was about a year and 6 months old, he was admitted into the hospital because of severe malnutrition.  Feeling the weight of taking care of him, his biological mother decided to abandon him at a hospital in Lusaka.  His father called the hospital a few weeks later to see what happened to his son.  By this time, he was sent to a local orphanage in Lusaka.  The father left his phone number, but nothing else.  His dad phoned rarely to check on him, but never intended to step in and take on full responsibility.  The orphanage was able to care for him more than his family ever could.  He was being fed 3 times a day and had housemothers who watched over him day and night.  Overtime, all his friends and the housemothers knew him as a joyful boy—even though his circumstances did not seem joyful.  Although he lived in an orphanage and was taken care of, he didn't have the one-on-one parenting, love, and support he should have had by his birth parents.  He stayed in the orphanage for almost 2 years. During this time, not one family member visited him.

I had the pleasure of meeting this sweet boy when I visited an orphanage one weekend in January. He was the happiest one of them all.  He ran and played with a huge smile on his face.  His personality and demeanor was intriguing. Even his house moms testified to his happy nature.  Although this little boy spent almost 4 years of his life without a mom and dad who truly cared for his well being, his Heavenly Father never left him.  His Heavenly Father already had a plan for him, and boy is it an amazing plan.  His Father not only has never forsaken him, but he has already destined an earthly mother to step in and care with ALL of her heart for him.

And that mother is me.

The Lord started speaking to me about becoming a mom in November of 2011.  I had 2 dreams about a little boy, I didn’t know who he was, but I knew that I was his mom.  I remember waking up both times and feeling a weight from the Lord. After my second dream, I asked the Lord to clarify if the dream was from him. In the next 3 days, I was without a doubt certain that he was calling me to motherhood--to adopt a little boy.  Now, you can only imagine the thoughts running through my mind.  I'm single. I live in Africa.  I work to educate orphans, not take on full care for them. How am I going to do this alone? When will I know that I've found my son? Is he already born? But the Lord is faithful.  Over time, he answered different parts of my anxiety and worry in a gentle way.  He even gave me a name to pray over: Elijah. Although I was staying obedient and waiting patiently, I went through many doubts of whether this is actually what the Lord was calling me to do.

On May 15th, I saw this picture of the sweet boy from the orphanage I visited in January.  When I looked at the picture, the Lord said, “Megan, this is what Elijah looks like.”  I was confused, because I wasn’t sure if the Lord was actually telling me that my Elijah will look similar or if this boy was actually Elijah.  I didn't say anything to anyone yet, but a few hours later, my roommate brought her computer to me with that exact same picture and said the exact same phrase, "Megs, this is what Elijah looks like." That’s when I felt this could possibly be my son.

The next day, I went to visit him. The Lord instantly connected my heart to my son.  He IS the boy I’ve been praying for. When I saw him, held him, played with him, and looked in his eye, I knew that it was my Elijah. Although that was not his birth name, the Lord placed it on my heart to change it too Elijah.  I’m very excited and humbled that the Lord has chosen me step in and care for this sweet boy!

The process of adoption in Zambia is a long and hard road.  It’s not easy.  There are many steps and tiny details that are not laid out specifically on paper.  This makes it very hard to get the right paperwork with the right documentation to finalize everything.  For example, it took me 3 months to finalize paperwork just for fostering him.  But, as I’ve said, the Lord is faithful.  He has walked ahead of me each step of the way.

On August 7^th, Elijah came home with me, and yesterday my sweet son turned 4 years old.  He is such a joyful and clever boy.  He is strong, content, nervous, scared, excited, but is now being loved the way God intended for him to be loved.  He is going to be a powerful man of God—he IS anointed. He has already begun praying and speaking with authority, like a pastor would. J Although the road ahead of me is long, bendy, and bumpy at times, I know it’s the straight and narrow path the Lord is calling me too. 

I am truly blessed that the Lord would not only call me to provide a home and a family for Elijah, but, to also work for Family Legacy, a ministry who provides support and families for hundreds of orphans within their home country. As of now, I’m taking one day at a time.  I don’t know what the future holds, but I intend to stay in Zambia as long as the Lord calls us here.

Malachi 4:6 is the verse the Lord has given me for Elijah:

“Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the great and awesome day of the LORD comes.  And he will turn the hearts of fathers to their children and the hearts of children to their fathers.”

Even in the small amount of time I’ve known my son, I’ve seen this verse displayed in his life. He will be the man of God he is called to be, in Jesus’ name.

Eli's Coming Home!!

Wrapped up after his first bath time at home! First car ride! Off to Pre-School! My Little Aggie! Mommy and Eli!

Precious Baby Boy, I see SO much of Jesus in you already.
You are home."

 

 

 I cannot even begin to express my excitement for Megan and Elijah.  For those of you who know me, though, perhaps you will understand just how overjoyed I am when I tell you that I start weeping every single time I look at a picture of this mother and son together.  I am so proud of my friend for taking a gigantic leap of faith and trusting in God's provision for her.  I eagerly look forward to the day when I get to meet Eli and wrap him up in a big hug!

If you are interested in contributing to Megan and Elijah with financial support,  you can click here to make a one-time donation or set up recurring monthly support.  You can also support Katy by clicking here.

Trust Me on This One

 

Never try to sharpen a kitchen knife before you drink your first cup of coffee.

Love, 

Murphy & Me

You Can't Make This Stuff Up

I was DELIGHTED to have a visitor today!

Padre had to travel to San Antonio for work, so he decided to make the trek up north to see me tonight.  We went to see the movie I have been eagerly anticipating for months now...

 

(Apologies for the tiny picture - I didn't realize it would be so small, and I'm too lazy to find a larger one.)  It was fantastic.  I hope they make a 3rd one. 

Before I get to the funniest part of my afternoon/evening, I need to share a tidbit from last night.  I had a few friends over for dinner and to watch the Rangers game.  We've been trying to make it happen all summer, and finally everyone's schedule worked out.  This picture is also not great, but I wanted to document for Poppy + Goola that I got to use all the bright and cheery serving ware they sent me!  

 

One of the friends had yet to see my house, so I was giving her the full tour.  She must have told me eight times at least that I need a pet.

I'm sure anyone reading this knows me well enough to know that I do not, in fact, need a pet. 

I'm not pet people.

"Even just a hamster or a fish."  "Ooh!  Or a bird." 

No.  I'm not pet people.

Okay, we're sufficiently informed.  Fast forward to this afternoon.

When I got home from work, Padre was waiting for me in his car out front.  I went out to meet him and saw a small-ish dog running near us in the street.  I looked around for who he/she/it might belong to but so nobody.  It had tags on, so I decided to call the owner and put the dog in my backyard until he/she/it was claimed in order to prevent he/she/it from getting hit by a car.  One phone call and a few minutes later, "Fred" came with a leash to retrieve Cookie from my backyard.  

Shortly after that, Padre requested a tour of the house and wanted to see the garage.  I opened my garage door so I could put some boxes in the recycling bin when... whadyaknow... up runs Cookie.  

It had only been about thirty minutes and the dog had managed to successfully escape again and make his/her/its way back to my house.  

This time I wasn't as hospitable.  Padre sent me inside so I could close the garage door while he distracted the dog.  

We talked for a bit longer before heading to the movie theater.  A few hours later, we got back, hugged goodbye, and he headed out front to his car.  He immediately started cackling with laughter and shouted "You can't make this stuff up!!!!"  

I caught only the slightest glimpse of Cookie sprinting toward me before I turned, slammed the door shut, locked it, and yelled goodbye one last time to my dad.

Adventures in Babysitting

Full disclosure:  I started this post last Wednesday.  I am just now completing it.

Babysitting has evolved greatly since I was a young'n.

First of all, I babysat for the very first time when I was 12.  I remember it clearly.  It was a snow day.  Later on, my Aunt Kris took me to the movies.  I can't remember if we saw Dear God or That Thing You Do!, but it was one of those.  Who trusts a 12 year old to babysit their small children?!?!  Now, I was a pretty responsible 12 year old.  You might be thinking it doesn't sound too insane to let a 12 year old watch some school-aged children.  These kids were 3 years old and an infant!

Secondly, back in the day babysitting consisted of the following: parents would pick me up on Friday or Saturday in the early evening, order a pizza and head off.  We would eat dinner, pop in a VHS from Blockbuster or turn on the newest Disney Channel Original Movie and settle in for a few hours of entertainment before brushing teeth and going to bed.  I thought it was the greatest gig because, let's be honest, I'd probably be eating pizza and watching a movie anyway if I had stayed home.  I could get paid for this?!

Nowadays, it's a whole different story. 

I babysit for several families, and most of them prefer that their children don't watch television.  The lazy side of me thought this was crazy at first, but it actually ends up being pretty fun.  Instead of just sitting there on our tail ends, we play games, read stories, go outside, etc.  For whatever reason, almost all the kids I babysit are boys.  I love this because I am much more competent at building Lego towers, laughing at farts, and tossing a football or baseball around than I am at pretend tea parties and dress up.  (Please don't interpret this as some massive generalization about gender stereotypes in young children.  The one girl I babysit just happens to be extremely fond of tea parties and dress up.)  And all of the kids I babysit, regardless of age or gender, are crazy smart.  Because of this, I sometimes rely on their information too much.  Like the time over spring break when I got tricked into walking "down the street" to the park and had to call my roommate an hour later when I was a mile and a half away from the kids' apartment with a 2 and 4 year old, no snacks, no water, and no willpower left to walk back.  (Amanda was a superhero that day for picking us up!)

That same day, the 2 year old pooped on me.  Not just pooped in his diaper while in my lap.  We're talking a leaky diaper and my learning that sometimes adults do, in fact, need to prepare a change of clothes for themselves in addition to a change of clothes for the small children.  

Yesterday, a different 2 year old hit me in the face and gave me a bloody nose.  

Not every day is a fun adventure.  

Today, though,was a rockstar day in the world of childcare.  I started out by packing up some supplies to bring over to my first set of kids for the day so we could do the craft I promised them the week before.  I had seen this cute craft on pinterest where you pour mix tempera paint and bubbles, and blow really big bubbles into a pie tray.  Then you can place a piece of paper on top and it will catch all the paint from the bubbles and make cool designs and stuff.

It was a flop.

Nothing showed up on the paper at all.



Before you even tell me - yes, I did mix the paint in with the bubbles too.  I just did so after taking the picture. 

I improvised. 



 

See those nice clean feet?

I did.  And these ones too.  And I saw a lightbulb go off in my brain as I remembered another stinkin pinterest craft idea.

  

Then I got to work setting up for our new attempt.

 

 

Then I explained to the boys that as soon as they were finished, I would pick them up and dump them immediately in the bathtub.  They were not allowed to let their wet painted feet touch a thing until they were in the tub. 

  

I thought my clean up plan was foolproof, but I was proven incorrect.  I ended up scrubbing footprints from the concrete balcony and the tub.  

  

The next step was to let the paint dry.



When all were dry, we busted out some markers and transformed our feet portraits into pictures of mountains,  angry creatures, and firetrucks.

Then, not being completely fulfilled with my morning of craftiness, I continued in the spirit of hands and feet while watching another child the same day.