Gluteus Minimus

Yesterday, I went to see our family doctor.  For the past few weeks I have been having pain in my right hip that worsens as I rotate my leg outward, and I had also discovered a weird growth on the inside of my right cheek, so I decided to have both checked out.  (Actually, I didn't decide; my husband insisted!)

Upon being escorted to the examination room, I learned that my doctor was training a physician's assistant from another state.  I was asked if I would consent to being the new guy's guinea pig, and I said, "Sure, why not..."  The new guy had a pretty good idea what was going on with my cheek and confirmed my initial internet diagnosis, but my hip was a different story.  I was asked if I would mind putting on a "gown", so he could examine my hip more thoroughly.  "Sure, why not..."  He left.  I donned the "gown".  He returned and examined.  Still stumped.  He stepped out to consult with my doctor.  Both returned.  Leg up. Leg down.  Bend.  Twist.  Turn.  Adduction.  Abduction.  Push. Pull.  Ruling out of possible sources of pain.  Joint?  No.  Tendon?  No.  Muscle?  Yes!  Which muscle?  More twisting, turning, bending...palpating...uhm...awkward.  (You'd think after birthing four children, nothing would be awkward, but...)

By the time they were done pushing, pulling, twisting, and palpating, I felt like a side of beef!  And the verdict...a pulled gluteus minimus.  Nice!  As if the palpation wasn't bad enough, they add insult to injury by telling me that I've basically pulled a muscle in my BUTT!   Well, not quite my butt, but it has the butt word, gluteus, in it!  "Why are you walking like that, Kelley?"  "Oh, I've injured my gluteus minimus."  "You mean you hurt your butt?"  "NO!  Oh, never mind...!"  No one is going to take the time to Google gluteus minimus and discover that it actually controls outward rotation of the thigh.  No!  They're just going to assume that I hurt my butt!  Oh, and my oral growth?  An infected spit gland. (Parotid gland, to be precise!)  The solutions?  No exercise for six to eight weeks while the gluteus minimus heals and an antibiotic (that will most likely cause gastric distress!) for the salivary gland.  Nice!  And that, dear friends, is why I don't like to go to the doctor!

It's a Date!

This morning, after a late night helping my sister correct papers for her second-grade class, I received an email from my husband entitled "Us".  Below are some excerpts from the email, shared with his permission, of course:

"I know you have been very busy...when you aren't sleep deprived and/or very busy, I would love to go out to dinner and maybe a movie...I love you and miss you."

Your husband,
Pablo

  

Although my husband and I are both "strong-willed", that's pretty much where our similarities end.  According to the book "The Five Love Languages", my "love language" is "acts of service", while my husband's is a combination of "quality time" and "words of affirmation".  This is somewhat unfortunate in a family of nine where time and attention are hot commodities, and more often than I care to admit, my husband has to compete for both, which should not be.  (Incidentally, people tend to express love in the way they desire to receive it, so while I'm running around frantically trying to serve people, he's telling  me he thinks I'm beautiful and hoping to spend time with me.  Tragic, huh?)

Because quality time is not my love language, I sometimes mistakenly assume that since my husband  is  currently home recuperating from knee surgery he's getting all the time that he needs.  We're occupying the same space, aren't we?  But that's not really quality time, especially when I'm busy, tired, and stressed.  My husband wants quality time, intentional face time--time away for just the two of us to talk, listen, and laugh--no kids, no dogs, no visitors, no phones.

So back to the email...  I love that my husband hasn't given up on pursuing quality time with me.  I love that he is being proactive.  I love that when subtle hints failed, he used an alternate means of communication to get his point across.  And I love that we're going on a DATE!

The Strong-Willed Family

In the interest of authenticity, I have decided to revert to this blog's original name "The Strong-Willed Family".  "Carpe Diem!" has been fun, and "seize the day" will always be an ideal that I aspire to, but the truth is that we are what we are, and in our case, that's strong-willed.

Back in the day when I was a new mom to my first  precious "strong-willed" child, a close friend observed that not only did I have a strong-willed child, I had a strong-willed family!  Sometimes the truth hurts, but now, almost two decades later,  I have learned that our greatest weaknesses can become our greatest strengths when yielded to Christ.  So welcome (again) to our strong-willed family!  We've come a long way, but we're still learning to yield, so fasten your seat belt; we may encounter some turbulence...  (And yes, I can be a bit fickle at times, especially when it comes to names!)

Photo Credit

Between the Photos

Last summer, photos from our extended family camp out sent two of my friends into temporary, minor depression.  Both friends remarked on how wonderful our family was and how much we seemed to enjoy each other's company.  I responded to both friends with a slightly sarcastic snort.  Now don't get me wrong--my family is truly wonderful, and we genuinely enjoy each other's company, but this particular camp out was not one of our best.  Five family members were missing, one was on crutches, and one needed a serious attitude adjustment!

It has been said that a picture is worth a thousand words, but life between the pictures may be worth even more.  Several months ago, I was in a funk, and I was wishing that my life looked more like the pictures--our pictures!  Then I realized that for every picture that makes it to Facebook or this blog, there are five or more that don't, and that that's where life, real life happens.  Real life is the over-exposed photos, the blurry  photos, the lopsided grins, the awkward food-in-your-mouth smiles, the ill-timed blinks, and the snapping-and-pointing-at-your-kids-when-you-should-be-smiling-at-the-camera moments.  

And what about those photos that just don't make the cut--the ones that have no future as a profile picture or blog feature?  Do we delete them?  Do we throw them away?  Typically, no.  But why?  Because life, just like those photos, is imperfect, but in spite of the imperfections, there is still beauty, wonder...value.  Life is not lived from perfect snapshot to perfect snapshot.  The tapestries of our lives are woven in part from the imperfect moments that we don't dare cast off, for without them, our stories are incomplete.  

So here's to all the imperfect snapshot and everyday moments that make us laugh and make us cry--the moments and snapshots we cherish, because they are worth far more than a thousand words! (And don't let the pictures fool ya--we're pretty much like everyone else!)

Darth Vader

Meet Darth Vader, Sam's new rooster. Sam "discovered" him while doing chores out at the "Big Farm" while Grandpa was away at the state basketball tournament. Darth Vader appears to be a Jersey Giant, and although Sam is terrified of roosters, he was clearly impressed by his size.

I had thought it a bit early for Sam to be identifying and collecting phallic symbols, but perhaps not. After all, Kody has firearms, Ansen has a Mustang, Jesse has the biggest, coolest headphones ever, so why not a rooster for Sam? Besides, Sam cannot yet afford a lifted, diesel 4x4 complete with brush guard, winch, and rubber scrotum hanging from the hitch. (Is it just me, or does anyone else secretly desire to emasculate one of those trucks?)  I digress...

Darth was hatched and raised in a closed coop, so he is currently in quarantine getting acquainted with three of the four basic elements--earth, water, and air.  (No fire yet, but if he turns out to be aggressive, he may become acquainted with the stew pot!)

I imagine that going from a closed coop to the open air must be like dropping acid for a chicken (not that I would know!), but if Darth manages to survive the transition without experiencing a complete psychotic breakdown, I think he will make a fine addition to the flock. In fact, the "ladies" are already suitably impressed!

Favorite Phrases

I have recently begun a list of favorite phrases--phrases that make me smile, phrases that hit the mark, phrases that are just too good not to incorporate into my personal lexicon.

The first phrase to make the list was time optimist. I first heard this phrase during a conversation with a friend in which we were lamenting our mutual inability to manage time.  I had stated that I am the queen of the last minute task (like throwing in a load of laundry at the exact moment that we should be heading out the door), to which she replied, "I, too, am a time optimist!", and I fell in love--deeply, instantly, irrevocably in love! 

The second phrase to make the lexicon was rage accumulation.  This phrase was stumbled upon as a result of  Favorite Uncle's attempt to construct a comment to one of my blog posts using Google Translator.  Upon receiving his comment (in German), I plugged it into Babel Fish for deciphering.  (I do not speak German--a little Spanish, a little Amharic, a little Japanese, but no German).  Babel Fish spit out a poorly constructed sentence that made absolutely NO sense, but it did contained the precious gem of a phrase "rage accumulation".  Apparently, Favorite Uncle had been trying to incorporate the German equivalent of the word "tantrum" into his comment, but upon translation from German back to English, "tantrum" evolved into "rage accumulation".  AMAZING!

The third phrase of note actually came from a blog that I follow (OMSH) and identifies a concept that I had not been able to get my family to grasp...until now.  The author was writing about a particularly lovely Saturday morning which included sit-and-stare time.  Sit-and-stare time...YES...YES, YES, YES!  Finally, someone who understands me! I NEED sit-and-stare time.  It is crucial to my sanity as as a stay-at-home mother of seven!  I need it!  Do you hear me?  NEED IT!  Please, if you love me, just let me sit and stare!

Photo Credit

No More Mugs!

I went thrift store shopping this weekend with some of my favorite people in the whole world and had a marvelous time. I even found a few treasures (a Nike windbreaker, 10 pieces of matching crystal stemware, 4 complimentary pieces of crystal stemware, an Italian leather pocketbook), but what struck me the most about this particular round of thrifting was the abundance of glassware, coffee mugs in particular, and I got to thinking. What if, in an effort to conserve resources, we (they?) said no to the creation and manufacture of new, non-consumable goods, particularly coffee mugs?  I'm sure that someone has a ridiculously complex answer to this question that involves the economy, the stock market, and supply and demand, but does the world really need more coffee mugs? I think not.

What started as a good-natured, anti-stuff rant with my brother-in-law may actually have some merit.  Why do we (they?) continue to allow the production of coffee mugs?  Go to any thrift store in any town in any state of this union, and you will find more coffee mugs than you can shake a stick at (whatever that means...).  If you need a coffee mug for your office, for your classroom, as a gift, or just because GO TO A THRIFT STORE!  You will most likely pay less than $1 (more lattes for you!), and you will not be contributing to the manufacture of the detritus that ultimately ends up in the donation box.

I know that we are just talking about coffee mugs here, but let's take a look at the bigger picture.  Why do we (they?) keep manufacturing stuff--stuff that ends up in the trash heaps and thrift stores of the world?  You have a mug.  Why do you need a new mug?  You have a purse?  Why do you need a new purse.  You have a (__________).  Why do you need a new (__________).  People lament about the deplorable state of the environment, but they are unwilling to curb their consumerism.  I propose that, while saving the environment is a noble pursuit, perhaps we should be more concerned with saving ourselves from our insatiable desire for more, newer, bigger, "better"...

One of the things that I love the most about thrift store shopping is that I never really know what I "need", but God does, and on every thrift store outing, I find that He has tucked away little things just for me--abandoned things, forgotten things, things that no one else wants...except for me.  My thrift store finds are among my most cherished possession.  They are tangible reminders that while others are casting of the old in favor of the new, God is gleaning on my behalf and storing up treasures for me in the most unexpected places.

Now I want you to understand that I am not entirely opposed to the purchase of newly minted items, but I feel a deeper sense of satisfaction when I acquire something that has been "gently used", and when it comes to glassware, especially coffee mugs, I implore you for the sake of all that makes sense, please, please, please GO TO A THRIFT STORE!