Maybe not, but here goes anyways –

I dropped three of the four girls –

Angelina, Juliana and Olivia

– off at daycare, successfully dressed in clean outfits that matched.

By “matched,” I mean each of their shirts matched their shorts.

Listen, I am not used to this whole “dressing kids” thing.

I am darn proud of myself when they arrive in clean clothes,

hair brushed, teeth brushed.

I just realized I forgot to make them brush their teeth yesterday morning.

Ooops?

– — –

Aviean spent the first part of the morning at the office with me.

I put her at my student worker’s desk and let her chill for a bit

while I worked until her dad, my cousin, came to get her from me.

I worked hard all day long, something I will do

for the next four to six weeks

as it is currently “busy season” at my job.

When I get stressed out, I play this song over and over again.

(Warning: if you listen to it, you’ll become addicted to it…)

– — –

I also play some Justin Bieber every once in awhile,

just to spice things up.

Yesterday, my student worker Lizy was there

(oh yes, she is the same Lizy of my college girls)

and her fiancé, Caleb, came to pick her up.

I turned on that Justin Bieber song I wrote about yesterday,

and showed them how the stage routine would work.

They both said it was a good routine that I had created.

Please, as if it is possible to have a bad routine set to Justin Bieber’s music.

– — –

I work on the top floor of an office building

in what I like to think of as the “sweet suite.”

Yesterday, while I was on a phone call, the wiring in my bra came loose

and began poking the fire out of me.

I couldn’t get off the phone call,

so I stepped into the office that adjoins mine

because I knew it was empty and the doors were shut.

I needed to do a little, um, “adjustment”

while staying on the call.

Unfortunately for me, I did not realize

until I had finished my “adjustment”

that directly outside of our windows was a young man

working on a platform raised right up to our third floor windows.

He just smiled and nodded his head.

I just looked horrified and ran back into my office.

– — –

Four things I thought of yesterday that I would enjoy doing in life:

1. learn to play the violin

2. learn to play the cello

3. be a teacher in a low-income public school

4. skip around a room whilst wearing a really pretty wedding dress

– — –

Ryan, the father of three of the five, called me yesterday morning

to report that he was at the ER with a kidney stone.

I said “Well, I’ve heard they hurt worse than childbirth.”

And he said “Dang girl, you aren’t kidding.”

One day I need to introduce you to Ryan.  You will crack up.

Ryan is hardcore.  He has as many tattoos

as I have hot pink velcro rollers.

If you looked at him, you would never guess he has three little girls

that he is raising on his own.

But I’ll tell you that story another day.

– — –

I don’t think I will ever actually learn to play the violin or cello.

I’m not very musical, even though I’d like to be.

(Unless you count my Justin Bieber dance routines.)

I’m not sure I’ll ever be a teacher, either,

though this fall I will take two more master’s classes towards that goal.

(I am not kidding, I am willingly re-enrolling myself in school, it’s going to be awesome.)

As for the wedding dress, it’s kind of hard to say.

If I don’t get married, I’m still going to have some kind of

celebration of singlehood event

that would allow me to wear a wedding dress.

That sounds creepy, now that I think about it.

Let me think about that plan for a bit

and get back to you on that one.

It’s a good thing I went to bed early last night, because I’ve been up since 5:02 a.m. when Aviean woke me because she wanted to have a little chat about puppy dogs, earrings and what I was like as a little girl.  Amazingly, all of my attempts to get her to fall back asleep failed, so I now find myself writing to you about Justin Bieber in this early morning hour while I’m still half asleep.

One of the things I like most and, alternately, least about my friend Cara is that she has this uncanny ability to remember random things I say during our late night phone conversations.  This would be fairly harmless in itself, but then Cara goes and puts them in her Facebook quote section.  My current claim to fame on her profile?

“Justin Bieber has tapped into my very being.” – Amy Beth

Now, here is the part of this post where I begin to defend myself and Justin-baby.

On my way to work one recent morning, I heard the radio announcer say that my one true love, Justin Bieber, is going to be performing a mere 30 miles from me this fall.  Instantly, I was plunged into the great debate: do I purchase tickets to see Justin Bieber live in concert or do I act my age and not attend what is possibly the greatest concert event of all time (other than the time I went to an Amy Grant concert and got to go on stage with her, but that’s a story for another time).

Justin Bieber is the boy I don’t want to like, but find myself inexplicably drawn towards (please note, that sentence could describe many of my previous dating relationships).  I cannot hold it in any longer.  I need to talk Justin; I need to let it flow from me like a river.

Does Justin look like a teenage girl?  Well, perhaps.  He does have rather girlish hair.  Does Justin sound like a teenage girl when he sings?  Well, perhaps.  He does have a rather girlish voice.  But does Justin know how to write song lyrics that touch the core of my heart?  Oh yes, YES HE DOES.

I offer the following lyrics for your observation:

“Are we an item?  Girl, quit playing.  ‘We’re just friends.’  What are you sayin’?” — from Baby

Obviously, Justin knows how to get to the very heart of the issue, quickly.  Instead of toying around with some girls’ emotion, he tells her that he either wants all or nothing.  What a man. Or, you know, a preteen boy.

“Tell me what you’re here for — them other guys?  I can see right through ya.” — from Eenie Meenie

Let me just go on the record as saying that this happens to be my favorite Justin Bieber song of the moment.  Not only can I sing the whole song from memory, but the other night, I choreographed an entire dance routine right there in my very kitchen while some of my college girls were at my house.  I think it is safe to say that, should they or I ever find ourselves as back-up dancers with Mr. Bieber, we will already know some killer dance moves.

Actually, I’m really tempted right now to make a video for you demonstrating the routine I choreographed because, listen, it is amazing.  I basically turned the song into a duet between Justin and a girl (I’m available to sing the girl part, if he was to need me).  They alternate parts, dance around each other, etc.  There’s a part in the routine where the lights would go out and then BAM!  Justin and I the girl singing with him have switched places and are out in the crowd singing!  On a platform above the crowd!   My hair the girl who is singing, her hair, it is blowing out behind her!  Justin’s long, girlish locks are flowing out behind him!  IT’S A MAGICAL MOMENT IN MUSIC HISTORY!

I’m going to get dressed for work now.

Today was so busy!

I should have gotten up earlier, I think.

It took me forever to wake Angelina, Juliana and Olivia up,

much less to get them ready for daycare.

I put on my make-up between dressing Juliana and Olivia

and almost left my cell phone laying in bed where I had left it the night before.

– — –

I got the girls inside the daycare

and even managed to remember to bring diapers with me.

(I was really proud of that, just so you know.)

I worked all day,

did my Bible study at my desk at lunch,

and then picked them up before the daycare closed.

I didn’t get everything finished before I left the office today,

so I took the girls to Chick-Fil-A for kid’s night.

After overseeing the consumption of chicken nuggets,

I ushered the girls into the indoor playground

so that I could buy myself a little time

to wrap up a couple of things on my laptop.

I felt so much guilt.

I could hardly concentrate on what I was doing,

because I was feeling so guilty about not spending time with them.

But I work extra hours and extra freelance writing projects

so that I can have money for diapers and flash cards.

I’m not complaining.

My current budget just doesn’t really allow for children,

so I have to work more to allow for the children in my life.

I love it, having the opportunity to do more work

to be able to do more for them.

So feeling guilty about working was driving me crazy.

Conflicted guilt, that’s what it was, I think.

– — –

Olivia endured three separate timeouts this evening.

I’m always afraid that I’ll spoil any of the five girls,

since I am “Amy Beth,” not their mother.

Sure, I want them to think I’m fun.

But fun isn’t all I’m meant to be in their little lives.

I’ve been happily pleased to find out that

I ended up with a little disciplinarian inside of me after all.

Not only am I the queen of timeouts,

but I’ve even been known to take away privileges every now and then.

– — –

Olivia’s crimes of the evening?  I know you’re wondering.

1. Attempting to escape my grip in the parking lot.

2. Throwing her chicken nugget on the floor.  On purpose.

3. Biting a child at daycare.  I know!

– — –

I read an interesting quote in my Bible study today at lunch.

“I have pouted against Him in my disobedience,

angry that I wasn’t experiencing Him

but not wanting to change my allegiances either.”

Ruth: Loss, Love and Legacy | Kelly Minter | pg. 17

– — –

I want to write more.

But I need to go make sure that four little girls

– Angelina, Aviean, Juliana and Olivia –

are still asleep in the other room.

If they are, there’s about to be a fifth girl in this house fast asleep.

Pretend parenting can wear you out.

The situation I found myself in last night

was one that comes around each July:

the company I work for was having their annual family picnic.

I was the girl from the third floor corner office without any, um, family to bring.

I needed a date, and stat.

– — –

The good news?  I found a date.

The even better news?  I found three dates.

But the best news?  You’ve met them before.

I’m convinced that Angelina has never met a water slide she didn’t love.

The same goes for Juliana, too.

But this one… well, this one wasn’t feeling the water slides.

Ryan and I have talked a lot about Olivia and water.

She doesn’t remember being underwater before her accident,

but she knows that the reason she was so sick was because of water.

He and I have talked a lot about how we don’t want her to fear water.

But, at the same time, I didn’t want to push her.

After a few reassurances that I would be at the end to catch her,

Olivia decided it was time to slip and slide.

We took a break from the games to enjoy a sno cone.

Angelina had mixed flavors.

Juliana had the blue flavor.

And Olivia had a mess.

I had the strawberry flavor, thank you so much for asking.

It is, after all, the summer of the strawberry in my little life.

We played for a good two hours last night.

I loved watching the girls shriek and scream.

I also loved whenever one of my old professors that I had in college

would come up to me, see the three girls at my feet and look confused.

Wait, isn’t she single?  And childless?  But she has three children?  At the family picnic?

For the religion professors, I just leaned in and said, very sweetly,

“Can you believe I was able to keep them a secret for so long?”

Nervous laughs, from each of ‘em.  Is she joking?  Surely she’s joking.

But when my old economics professor came up to me, I told him the truth.

He was, after all, kind enough to let me pass his class as a freshman.

– — –

My announcement that we had to head home for bedtime

was met with disapproval from each of the girls.

Olivia, however, chose to express hers without using words.

I slept through almost the entire night last night.

Maybe it is a sign that this week will be easier

than the weekend was?

I really hope so.

– — –

Can someone explain to me

what makes babies in white onesies

so darn cute?

Jackson’s mother and I went to high school together.

She was a couple of grades older than me

and, though she didn’t know it at the time, my hero.

She was the girl in youth group that I wanted to be,

though I can only remember us actually talking

one or two times during those high school years.

Now we text during the week.

One afternoon she sent me a text that said

she can’t wait to meet the man who’ll fall in love with me

not because I can write or take pictures or anything else

just because I’m me.

That text made me want to cry.

Of course, she also texts me to tell me I have

to give up my slight obsession with Justin Bieber.

Those texts make me want to cry, too.

Justin and I are forever, Christy.  You can’t separate a love like ours.

Anyway, here’s her baby.  He and I rolled around on the floor a few weeks ago.

Warning: do not view images if you currently have baby fever.

(Click any image to view in full size.)

To see more of baby Jackson on the farm, click here.

It’s Sunday night and I’m in the mood to write, maybe because I’ve been cut off from most of the world this weekend.  This weekend was long and, well, just long. I enjoy spending time by myself, but not while I’m sick — in induces all kinds of feelings I’d rather not experience.

I woke up in the dark hours of Friday morning in the middle of a panic attack.  I have no idea how it started while I was asleep; that’s never happened to me before.  By the time dawn came, I was in a lot of pain from my neck to my feet.  I got out of bed to start getting ready for work and found that I couldn’t really use my hands, feet or legs very well.  This is likely due to a change in some medicine I’m taking, which I’ll get to in a second.

I was in so much pain Friday night that I cried myself to sleep, so you can imagine my shock when I woke up Saturday morning feeling the best that I’ve felt in weeks.  I instantly sprang up out of bed and began doing all of the things that I’ve put off while I’ve felt bad.  It probably would have been smarter to have still rested during the time I felt good, but I couldn’t help it — feeling so much better made me want to cook and clean and be normal for a few hours.  Ryan had to work on Saturday morning and afternoon, so I had Angelina, Juliana and Olivia there with me, too.  It amazes me how much a part of my life those girls have become in only a few months.  A lot of people ask me how I manage to have them at my house when I’m not feeling well and it always makes me laugh at what the “old Amy Beth” would have thought of that question.  I remember asking one of my best friends, Ashley, what she did when she was sick but home with her two children.  She told me that mothers don’t get sick days and I remember this single girl being properly horrified.  I thought that, surely, she was exaggerating, but as it turns out, children still need to be fed and washed and clothed even if their mother — or in my case, their stand-in Amy Beth — is sick.

Last night, some of my friends wanted to go see a movie and, still feeling great, I decided to meet up with them after Ryan picked the girls up from my house.  I was almost giddy during our dinner together because I felt so normal. I’ve had trouble with nausea this past week, so Saturday night was the first time in days I felt well enough to eat a regular meal.

While we were in the theater, I started to get sick.  I made it through the movie but, by the time I got home, I was almost in tears because I felt so bad and was completely by myself.  And, well, that’s where I find myself tonight.

If I had to choose one of the strongest negative themes I have to deal with in my life, it would definitely be feelings of abandonment.  I don’t write about it too much because there isn’t a lot I can say on the subject without potentially hurting other people if I told my own story.  But, without going into specifics, I can easily say that from about the age five until now, I’ve had more experiences with what has felt like abandonment to me than I care to admit.  I can vividly remember being a child and fearing abandonment — even though I didn’t know what word to use to describe the very thing I feared.

A few months ago, I decided to do the popular “Ruth: Loss, Legacy and Love” Bible study by Kelly Minter.  Originally, I was going to do it in conjunction with a popular blog that was featuring the study, but almost as soon as I began reading the first section, I realized that I had two problems on my hands: first, I didn’t want to list my responses on a public site and, secondly, it was going to take me a long time to work through this Bible study because, for perhaps the first time in my adult life, I was going to address my fear of abandonment.

I’m doing the study with a friend of mine who has faced significant abandonment issues of her own and, the other night in my living room, we found that we could barely go a page in the book before one of us was crying in response to some deep hurt the study had uncovered.  If you want to find someone who probably felt abandoned by every human in her life and by her God, too, you don’t have to look further than Ruth.

Everyone responds to abandonment differently; to be honest, I myself respond to it differently depending on what day of the week it is.  Sometimes I’m clingy; other times I isolate.  If there’s someone available to cling to, I’ll normally grab on tightly in hopes that they’ll stay with me.  If no one is available, I immediately isolate myself in some twisted effort to brace myself for the realization that I am, in essence, on my own.  Two very different responses to one incredible pain: the feeling of being left by oneself.

Being single can be an easy segue to abandonment; being single and chronically ill further complicates matters.  I’m in a phase of life where I’m battling chemical depression, the loss of part of my hair, frequent pain in my muscular system, etc. while my doctor tries to figure out why my body can’t retain a vital nutrient it needs to work.  I’m taking 10,000 mg daily of something that most of you only need 200 mg of daily and, according to my last blood work, it still isn’t working to fix the problem.  I’m almost crying just typing that because I don’t know how to explain how frustrating this is, especially trying to do it without the type of support system I thought I would have when I first found out about all of this.  There is no way to describe the hurt that comes with feeling like you’re not important to someone, even when you’re sick.  For years now, I’ve struggled with trying to measure my worth based on what worth others assign to me.  If I use that system today when it comes to some of the relationships in my life, I would come up with a disappointingly low response.  I wish I could say that I no longer use that system to measure my worth, but the truth is that, sometimes late at night when I’m willing myself to fall asleep, I pull out that old measuring rod and find myself lacking.

I don’t have a neat bow to tie onto this post, probably because I’m still in the middle of whatever lesson this is that I’m learning.  I suspect that, if I learn my lesson well, I’ll come out of this with a deeper understanding that I need to rely on God, not man and that, even if man does abandon me, God does not.

Maybe I’ll be writing that post a few months from now?  I hope so.

Just in case you’re tempted

to think too highly of me after reading about our Christmas in July,

I wanted to make sure you all noticed what the girls were wearing

when they came out of my bedroom that morning:

That’s right.

One is wearing her outfit from the day before.

Another is wearing a ballerina leotard.

And another is wearing her swimsuit.

– — –

Perhaps it is time for me to invest in some little girl pajamas, no?

Last Friday night, when I put all five girls –

MacKenzie, Angelina, Aviean, Juliana and Olivia

– down to sleep, they thought it was a regular Friday night.

Little did they know that,

when they woke up the next morning,

Christmas would be waiting in the kitchen.

MacKenzie’s response was my favorite:

“Did we sleep six months?”

I got them little gifts, mainly things I needed for them here.

Stuffed animals for the little girls to sleep with when they spend the night,

workbooks and flash cards for everyone.

I hadn’t been feeling good,

so the idea of dragging out all of my Christmas decorations made me shiver.

Instead, I got out the tree and decided that the ornaments would be little gifts.

Flash cards, for example.  Not your typical gift,

but, by goodness, these girls are going to learn while they’re at my house.

Instead of garland, I hung candy necklaces on the branches.

I added some Pop Rocks, mainly because I loved them as a child.

There were even some elephant puppets peeking out, too!

And, of course, a few ring pops balanced on the branches.

I mean, every girl needs a little bling, bling you know.

I had breakfast on the table,

miniature cinnamon rolls and strawberries…

with some chocolate chip waffles…

and little biscuits in cupcake holders.

The girls were surprised, giddy and thrilled.

Christmas in July!

Can you imagine?

Once everyone had their food,

it was time for a Christmas morning picnic on the kitchen floor.

In other words, I don’t have enough chairs at my kitchen table

to feed all of them at once, so I had to get creative.

After we ate breakfast, each girl got to open one gift.

And then it was time to make gingerbread houses!

Once we had finished that messy little task,

I took the girls to the front porch for a little outside fun.

Since we couldn’t exactly throw snowballs in July,

we threw the next best thing: water balloons!

Once we had finished with our water balloons,

we had some frozen lemonade out of mason jars.

Frozen because it was “Christmas;” lemonade because it was July.

And then each girl got a little ice cream pail of her own,

with candy canes instead of spoons!

Candy canes because it was “Christmas;” ice cream because it was July.

After our fun on the porch,

I made all five of them hop in the tub so I could get them clean.

Once we were dry and dressed,

it was time to talk about the meaning of Christmas

and then open a few more gifts, too.

I think I enjoyed myself as much as the girls did,

even though it took me until 2 a.m. to get everything set-up after they had fallen asleep.

And, well, there was the mess after they all left, too.

Worth every last dirty dish to see a child –

or five!

– on “Christmas” morning.

Can you guess…

what I’m going to write about…

tomorrow

by looking at the clue

found in Olivia’s ice cream bucket?

Hint: it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…

– — –

But as for tonight –

strawberries and bananas for dinner

+

studying the book of Ruth with my college girl, Cassidy

+

washing the sheets on my bed

…

all in an effort to turn my bad day around.

– — –

It is 8:53 p.m. and I am now going to go to bed.

Sometimes, when a day is sour, it’s best to just wake up to a new day.

– — –

Okay, wait, I feel guilty for complaining about my day.

(If this is how I write my blog posts, can you even fathom how random my diary entries are?)

I was going to make a list of things I’m grateful for –

puppies, my car, strawberries (it is the summer of the strawberry, after all)

– but I think I’m just going to go to bed instead.

I am extremely tempted to continue writing lines that would rhyme with the word “instead.”

Like, led.  Or, Fred.  Or, said.

It’s time for bed.

See you in the morning for pictures

that will make you feel like you ate a spoonful of sugar for breakfast.

These five girls, they are just that sweet.

Oh, making a campfire in my driveway

wasn’t the only thing we did while I had the girls for two weeks.

Can you say cupcakes?!?

Before you make fun of me for dressing them alike,

you should know that they all love it.

I realize that I have about one year of them loving it left,

so I’m making good use of my time.

After cupcakes, we met up with one of my college girls, Lizy…

and her fiancé Caleb…

at the Children’s Creative Discovery Museum downtown!

My favorite part of the museum is the area where you can

put on scrubs and pretend to be a nurse or even a doctor, if so you desire.

Of course, I also love the room full of water, too.

They have an area of the museum that is devoted to art.

And an area for finding dinosaur bones, too.

We climbed…

and wore wellies in the water room…

and even played on the roof of the building, too!

If that wasn’t enough, we even recorded a song in the music lab.

Almost every single day,

I think of something new that I want to teach the girls.

One thing I know for sure

is that I want them to have an appreciation of the arts.

I want them to play in rooms full of water

and make sculptures out of clay

and be exposed to creativity at their young ages.

I’ve got a long way to go in bringing that to all five of their lives.

But I think we’re off to a good start.