my pet peeve. obviously shared.

 I would marry the man who drew this, because I'd know, he might not be good at washing dishes, he may not be good at folding laundry, he might even make messes that I'd have to clean up, but at least I'd know that he'd never misuse the apostrophe. (and yes, I'm that much of a nerd).

why i never wear a wristwatch...

alternatively I would call this: the way we view time.

newsflash..

Carleigh, Lana and I went to the mall on Saturday.

This was the first time I'd been to the mall in ages. We all forgot our troubles for the afternoon and floated in and out of the stores. Carleigh pretended she didn't have three children at home, I pretended I had money, and Lana...well Lana bought the best army leggings I've ever seen....for those times when she's hiding in the bush.

But the shocking part of our trip was the realization that American Eagle is now selling these for the "nevernudes" in your family...

(Carleigh actually made that joke in the store, and the guy that was greeting us stared at us blankly...if you are staring at this post blankly, then you have also missed out on the greatest show ever: Arrested Development)

While we were commenting on the shortness, I made a naive statement that obviously young girls must be wearing these with leggings underneath, cause there's no way their mothers are letting them out of the house with just these.

And then I turned around, and met mother-daughter who proved me wrong.

Evidently the new style is the shortest shorts you can ever wear, paired with boots. I think we need to stop this fashion trend. As I realized what was going on, I started seeing it everywhere I went...and I started feeling sad.

Young girls all over North America are trying to look older than they are. Trying to look like the girls in the magazines. Like "the girls that boys want". Except it's really all a lie. And the boys that want girls like that don't want them for more than a one-time-use.

I know that these types of new "fads" have always sort of irked me...but I haven't been able to put my finger on it...until I read an amazing book this year.



"Half the Sky" by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn, tells the stories of women in Cambodia, India, and Thailand who represent women all over the world facing oppression. These women are sold into modern day slavery = the sex trade. They are young girls when it starts, and often find it hard to escape...because it is the only life they've known (and often their lives are threatened when they DO try to escape).

I highly recommend this book.

I want mothers and fathers all over the world to read it.

I want them to tell their daughters that there is a reason we shouldn't be wanting to wear short shorts and it goes deeper than our looks. It's about our value and worth. It's about our intellect and our ability to provide for our families in ways that men can't. It's about showing off our brains more than our butts.

I want them to tell their sons about the type of girls that they should go after and care for, and that women are to be honoured...not used.

Here's to one less pair of nevernude shortie shorts.

Ten out of Tenn - today's favourite strangers

You simply have to check it out...

Here is their website:

http://www.10outoftenn.com/#/artists

These are my new favourite strangers - Ten out of Tenn - just look at them, wouldn't you want to be their friend?

They sing together.

They travel together.

They raise money for hurting relatives together.

I like it.

I hope you do too.

And for your listening pleasure...this one's especially my favourite right now:

pseudo momma update...

Tonight, while Carleigh was trying to get sweet Janie-pie to bed (who no longer is sweet Janie-pie at bed time), I was chilling with Charlee and Bo in their room (Gary's away on business this week). Bo was snuggled in his bed, eating "chipees" and I was reading Charlee a delightful story of Clifford the Big Red Dog...saving the world, essentially...Charlee picked it out especially because, as she said, "it's such a nice story".

We finished the book and I told Char it was time to go to sleep (I was practically falling asleep on her bed). She turned to me, pulled my face in close, and whispered in my ear:

"Kaleen, if you go to work, and then go poo, and then have a shower, I'll give you a BIG surprise."

Well, seeing as that could be plausible, I wanted to know what the surprise was.

Her response: "A big...big...big....chocolate COOKIE!"

She then proceeded to tell me how eating big chocolate cookies would make me big and strong.

I told her it actually would just make me big.

Then she told me she was starving. So I asked her what kind of snack she wanted (this is a typical nightly routine)...and what do you think she asked for?

Her: "A big...big...big...chocolate COOKIE!"
Me: "We don't have any cookies, Char"
Her: "Yes we do!"
Me; "No, we actually don't"
Her: "Yes, we actually do"
Me: "How about a banana instead"
Her: "Ok."

Some days I mope a little bit about the fact that I'm single.

Then I'm reminded that if I wasn't single, I wouldn't be offered chocolate cookies for going poo and having a shower.

Well, unless I find the right guy.

two-toned blue.

This was my first car:

Ok...granted, this is a 84 Plymouth Horizon, and my first car was a 81 Dodge Omni (basically the exact same car). It was two tone blue (dark on the bottom, light on top), and was the exact same age as me (a fact I was proud of). And it wasn't really mine...it was technically my dad's.

But...it was the first car that I drove by myself.

This week, this topic has come up three times with three different people asking: "Do you remember the first time you drove your car by yourself?"

I do. Like it was yesterday. In actuality, it was 12 years ago (I think to this week, even). I remember my mom and I coming home from my drivers' test (in her 1992 Ford Escort, which was the "good car" by comparison to the Omni). I remember her handing me the keys to the Omni, and me, driving to Comox to go see Vanessa...alone, no parent gripping the door handle and stomping the imaginary brake on the floor.

I remember glancing at the passenger seat, as I was driving, thinking, "am I really allowed to do this on my own now?"...and then....the overwhelming sense of:

YES!

and...

I'M DOING IT!

The funny thing is, it almost killed me to get the stupid license in the first place. Not because I couldn't, or wasn't a good driver, or didn't have the time...

...but because I was scared.

My mom talked me into writing my learner's test. We sat in the car for what felt like 20 minutes, as I looked over the exam booklet, telling her, "I don't think I'm ready, I don't think I know it all yet!" She was doing the mom thing, where she knew I just needed to get in there and do it, but I hadn't clued in yet. And so, gently, she urged me to get out of the car and just write the thing. And sure enough...I passed.

Then there was the road test. I re-booked it once, after being convinced that "I wasn't ready". And then, the morning of the exam, I actually thought about re-booking it again. But it was too late. And sure enough...I passed.

So here I am, 12 years later, and the driving thing is behind me. But what is before me?

Grad school.

I start July 5th. It took me 8 months and 5 professors saying "when are you going to grad school?" to get me to sign up for the dang thing. And it wasn't because I'm not capable, or because I don't have the means, or because I don't have the time...in fact, this IS the perfect time in my life to do it...

...but I'm facing that fear again.

I think God gave me the image of that June afternoon, in my Dodge Omni, window open, music blaring, glancing at the passenger seat, as a reminder. A reminder that I can do it.

I just have to get my butt in that door.

A good lunch is an important thing.

Charlee, age 3 and 11/12ths, met me at the top of the stairs this morning. She was dressed in pants, a shirt, some sort of short sleeved sweater thing, new sketcher sneakers and backpack...filled with who knows what.

It was shortly after 8, and undoubtedly she'd already been up for 2 hours.

She was ready for action.

Her: "Are you going to work Kaleen?"
Me: "yes, sweetie, I'm going to work"
Her: "Can I come with you?"
Me: "no, sweetie, you can't come with me"

She toddled off while I said good morning to Carleigh and we chatted about tonight's plans.

She returned, with one raw egg, inside of the largest ziploc bags we have.

Her: "Kaleen! I made your lunch!"
Me: "You shouldn't have."
Carleigh: "Good luck with that one..."

I was able to sneakily place said lunch back into the fridge without Charlee noticing while she busily added one drawing, and one "card" that she'd made into the mix. Gifts for work.

She did ask me, though, as I walked out the door, if I had packed the egg into my lunch bag.

I lied.

Really?

Instead of taking my coffee break today, I'm blogging.

I'm in the middle of doing research for a short-term missions seminar that we want to put on in the fall. This involves a lot of reading, including books from the 90s (which you wouldn't think was so long ago, but in this case, it is).

Some of these books offer great tidbits and speak to the philosophy behind doing short-term missions well.

Others...well....

Today I read about how in order to utilize space in your suitcase, it is best to take the toilet paper that you are packing (really?) and drive over the rolls (carefully, mind you) with your car, in order to flatten them.

Yes, that's right.

There's a whole paragraph devoted to this.

Let's put aside the fact that most people aren't packing a roll of toilet paper these days...

...and you have to wonder about the strength of the guy who can't simply flatten the roll with his hands. He requires his car.

Odd.

Back to work!