I think I hurt my hip while wrestling!

Hurting, confused, frustrated, discouraged, all might be words to describe me today. I've been thrashing about trying to find that one thing that seems to be right. That place that I can go and just know with perfect peace that I'm in the right spot. I know people who have that place, allegedly anyway. I don't. I don't know what it would look like if I did and frankly I just might hate it once I found it. Maybe in some sadistic way I enjoy this feeling. Every time I think I might have found it, it gets yanked out from under me. I just know I hate the way life looks right now. Not everything in life. I have plenty about my life that I enjoy and that I'm thankful for. I wish I had some profound way to tie all this together but I don't. This just means that as much as I hate leaving things unresolved, that feeling is the truth right now and anything else would be a lie.

Viva Viagra!

Parenting a three year old is an interesting experience. Life takes on a serious dichotomy of cute and troubling. For instance, hearing my son Ian quote the commercial that says the difference is drinkability is pretty cute. I know some people might be troubled by that but I think it's funny. What is troubling is hearing him quote other commercials that he has heard and suddenly you have a three year old talking about having an erection. From cute to troubling in .3 seconds. I realize, it's not such a huge thing, he doesn't know what he is saying but even so, the teachers in the nursery at church sure will. :-) It definitely makes me conscious though because he hears and imitates everything. Pretty much anything he says at this point is an imitation of something he has heard someone else say or do. Not even just words but the way things are said. He watches Amanda and me fight, laugh, talk, criticise, love, hate, not talk, curse, sing or whatever. This is a giant load of pressure. I want to help shape him into who he is meant to be, not into some angry, foul human. The key there is help because somehow, in spite of me and all my screw ups, Ian and Gavyn are not in my hands. I have to somehow give them every day to someone who has no flaws and I'm thankful that I am trusting Him to shape them in all the ways that I can't. May Christ guide my hands and guard my tongue and may he protect them when I won't let him guide me.