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Champagne Taste on a Beer Budget

Five hands reached out to the center of the table and piled one on top of the other.  Kolby’s little arm had to stretch really far, but she got the tips of her fingers in as our family made our New Year’s pact.

“One, two, three…Yo Gabba Gabba,” we yelled out to seal our commitment. 

The crowd at CPK (California Pizza Kitchen) looked at our table in open curiosity.  Our family isn’t exactly a quiet bunch and tonight we were celebrating Kolby’s second birthday.

First, we went around the table and affirmed our little girl.  Kolby beamed over her mac-n-cheese and pizza.  Then we picked one New Year’s goal each and shared it with the table.  We finished up by picking one crucial action item we could each do in the next few months to turn our goal into a reality. 

Our conversation was sincere, tender and full of cheers and encouragement.

The family next to us glanced over at us occasionally.  Their boys were dressed in the height of surfer cool and the mom and dad had the “OC well groomed look” (i.e. hours at the mall, salon, dermatologist and gym).  Each child got their own meal and soda.  It was obvious their entertainment budget had more wiggle room than ours.

Our family was out to eat on a gift certificate received from a congregant as a Christmas present.  Each of us split a meal and we made our kids drink water.  I dressed baby Kolby in a birthday girl t-shirt, just to make sure the restaurant didn’t forget to give us our free ice cream sundae.

Just as they delivered Kolby’s monstrous sundae (amidst a loud and lusty rendition of “happy birthday”) and the five of us dug in –snarfing like wild dogs on the baby’s treat, I noticed the other family getting served individual desserts the size of Texas. 

I looked at my husband and chuckled, “You know you’re the financially strapped pastor’s family when…”

  • The waiter hates you because the bill is always couponed, meals are split, and they have to ID your kids to make sure they are twelve and under for the kids menu (the hair on my son’s lip and almost six-foot status might indicate an older teen-ok he’s thirteen)
  • The baby yells out “Amen” when the food arrives because she is hungry and doesn’t want to wait for prayers.
  •  The homeless guy in the parking lot is wearing an outfit you have in your closet because the same rich family in town gave you both their hand me downs.
  • You get excited when your kid loses a tooth with a cavity in it. What a saver!
  • You re-gift nice gifts you actually want.
  • You consider washing the birthday girl t-shirt and wearing it the next time you go out to get another free dessert.  (The two-year old won’t catch on for a while)

You also really know you’re the pastor’s family when the rich kids next to you look longingly over at your table and wish they could abandon their big sundae’s and fancy clothes to come and hang out with the big, noisy family where the mom has just spilled ice-cream all over the son’s pants as they try to share bites and snort hysterically.

And even though I don’t love always struggling and pinching pennies, I also know there are some things money simply can’t buy.

 

 

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Baby vs. Puppy -The Final Decision

After a good deal of prayer, looking for various signs from heaven, and crying out for fleece (and then more fleece because God can’t really be serious about this), I think Tim and I are going to go for the BIG TRY.

For a baby that is. And some poor dog out there is out of a doghouse now because we dissed him.

Basically “trying” means we are having necessary sex vs. the unnecessary sex we normally have.  This makes it much more official.

And since we want a boy child who will be a tall and a  stellar athlete I will be donning sports apparel and six inch heels for the “trying.”  (I’ve found it’s best to be specific with God)

I know some of you are thinking…seriously?  Raising four children seems rather excessive these days.  (It’s so Duggar)

I know.  I know.  Trust me…I know.  The pitter patter of little paws sounded so appealing.

And let’s be honest here.  I’m already overwhelmed.  As I write this, I have a huge baby snot stain on my nice work pants and some buttons on my shirt have gone astray.  I’m lucky if I pull a shower every other day and my makeup is haphazardly applied at stoplights.

I was so exhausted a few weeks ago I actually ate a nugget of baby poop thinking it was a cheerio. Let’s just say it was an unpleasant surprise.

We have a three bedroom home and it’s pretty darn full.  The only room left to put a baby in is the cabinet over the TV that I can’t reach.  Or maybe in the closet or the bathroom (oh wait…that’s daddy’s Man Cave).

Then there’s the fact that my husband works non-stop (three nights a week and six days a week) and he goes to seminary on his only day off- which leaves me completely hosed from a help perspective.  Of course I do have the older two minions, I mean children.

Crazy right?  So I’ve been asking for a sign.  And every sign that comes across my path is anti-dog.  Remember when Snoopy was trying to hook up with that cute little girl and then he realized he was a dog and the relationship was doomed (maybe because he was a canine and she was human) and everywhere they went there were signs that said “No Dogs Allowed.”  Yep –it’s like that.

I tried the throw open the Bible tactic to get a word from God on my Kindle.  This method lacks the “wow” factor of dramatically flinging open the scriptures, closing your eyes and dropping a finger down on a verse, but it was still effective.  I opened my Kindle, clicked on my Bible download and Psalms came up randomly.  I glanced down with intensity and bamm…a verse on how “God knits us together in our mother’s womb.”  Shut the front door!    Another baby reference. (Or maybe a knitting reference, but God knows I’m not crafty so it has to be about a baby –right?)

Then my husband Tim says he feels like God is saying to him, “Be fruitful and multiply.” Youza!  I’m thinking, “Are you sure he didn’t say –be fruitful and multiply our income?”

But my biggest objection is really not the enormous amount of work involved in having another munchkin, it’s the same fear I struggle with everyday –that I won’t be able to love everyone enough, or I’ll feel even more inadequate as a mother than I already do, and oh yeah –that I won’t have time to write or volunteer as a room parent and then there’s all the additional mommy guilt trips.

I guess I have to trust that with four rug-rats and the always lively Tim Keller I will probably have enough material for a full season of SNL and as for the rest, I’ll just have to leave it up to God. 

For those of you still not convinced –namely me, I will suggest to you that I do have three great kids and (because of or in spite their mother) they are tremendous little people.  They are giving, loving, talented and irreplaceable. (And the world really needs more good people and fewer jackwaggons, dang it!)

So…now that we got that settled, here comes the fun part –making the baby. 

(More bun in the oven jokes to tentatively follow pending the “trying” phase)

PS.  I was joking about wearing the six-inch heels. 

What new, risky and bold decisions are you making in the new year?

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Not So Dirty Words

My elegant and always beautiful mother got on my case today for being redundant (which is a plight worse than death to a connoisseur of words). Apparently I’ve been using the word “crap” too much as of late –which is sort of funny because it’s not even the word I want to use.

“Crap” is an interim word –my Nicorette alternative to the real bad word which got me into hot water with the religious right who think I should be excommunicated for swearing.

So, I’m in this wishy-washy wasteland of trying to clean up my potty mouth and it’s not a pretty place to be. There aren’t that many words to describe my angst and sometimes the perfect word is a bad word and all I have to replace it is –the stupid “C” word. Oh, man there it again.

I’ve therefore decided to do some alternative bad word research and compile the greatest list known to mankind. (Parents: This is a PG-13 Rated List for slightly disturbing animal references and words that sound bad but aren’t)

Sam’s Not So Bad Word List

  1. Cursed Monkey Parts
  2. “Fargin Bastiges” (from Johnny Dangerously)
  3. Jack Wagon (one of my personal favorites)
  4. Crike
  5. Shazbot
  6. Son of a Biscuit
  7. Jiminy Hee Haw
  8. Shut the Front Door!
  9. Cheese and Rice
  10. What the Fish?
  11. “F,” or “eff”
  12. Pickle you Kumquat
  13. You IceHole!
  14. Drat
  15. Nuts
  16. Fark
  17. Sufferin Sucatash (Bugs Bunny)
  18. Ai Caramba/ Ai Chihuahua
  19. Son of Batches
  20. Blasted Tarnation
  21. Putain
  22. Mofakka
  23. Peanut Butter Bone Head (my personal creation)
  24. Blankhole
  25. Motherblanker
  26. “Oh Kelly Clarkson” (from 40 Year-old Virgin)
  27. arugula
  28. “faaaaaaaaaa”
  29. Poop on a Stick
  30. “inbreeders”
  31. shiitake mushrooms
  32. Dag gum it
  33. Bugger
  34. Badwordbadwordbadword
  35. Poo
  36. Jiminy Crickets
  37. William Shatner
  38. Rat Bastard
  39. Abominable Puss-Bucket
  40. Duck Sticker
  41. Cockadoodie used by the malevolent Annie Wilkes as an alternative for cursing in Stephen King’s novel Misery
  42. Catastrophuck A situation (i.e. a poorly planned, under-manned, under-equipped, mismanaged war) that reaches a point of horrific disarray. — from “The Daily Show with Jon Stewart” (10/3/06)
  43. You “Lando” (meaning “sell out” from Empire Strikes Back)
  44. Jinkies (Scooby Doo)
  45. Leaf Licker (Land Before Time)
  46. Mary-Jane rotten-crotch – from R. Lee Ermey in Full Metal Jacket (my husband thinks this line is hilarious but it’s borderline gross)
  47. Uranus (love this!!!!)
  48. Nutsucker (a baby squirrel)
  49. Sugar Honey Iced Tea – from the movie Madagascar. An acronym of the dreaded “S” word.
  50. Wrinklies – refers to…well, umm, the lower man parts –from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, episode School Hard.

Now I have no excuse mom, because I can use one of these fine descriptive words. The “C” word is OFFICIALLY retired!

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Crazy Last Minute Gift Ideas

Like all women, I sometimes struggle with last minute gift ideas for my husband, so I Googled “pastor’s gifts” for some inspiration.  I found this nifty web-site called My-Pastor.com which had some intriguing gift ideas for the spiritual man in your life and some AWESOME ones for his lovely wife!!!!

That is…if you live in the magical land of Spare Oom bordering the Forest of Narnia and you have a large pile of gold.

This may be the most bizarre list of gifts I’ve ever seen and I can only assume the lady who wrote this had to be a disgruntled pastor’s wife who seriously needed Calgon to take her away. 

(She seems to have forgotten Rule #1 of blogging…don’t process your emotions on the internet)

I made a few notes so you would have a real-life PW’s perspective.

Pay for an overnight getaway for your pastor and his wife… provide babysitting if necessary.  Right.  Ummm-Hawaii sounds pretty cool.  An ocean-view pad with a personal pool and Jacuzzi is how this pastor’s wife rolls.  Oh yeah, and I have three kids.  Make sure to lock down the internet for the older man-child and don’t let the tween out of the house with five of her friends and a case of toilet-paper after dark.  The toddler is pretty easy if you like to watch five episodes of Yo Gabba Gabba.

Offer to keep her kids overnight on a Friday night. (We’ll be at Casa Ranchera if you need us, I mean Bible Study)

Pay for dinner and a show for the couple…provide babysitting if necessary.  I am really looking forward to Mission Impossible III, thanks for watching my kids again.  The baby likes mac-n-cheese.

Show your pastor appreciation… when he’s discouraged she is too.  He likes Hawaii too.  I’ll invite him to join me.

Get a group of ladies together and go shopping at an outlet mall a day’s trip away…add a mall gift certificate to make this pastor’s wife gift even better.  CABAZON!  Oh yeah!

A Special Gift Basket (let’s focus on the chocolate here people.  Cheese is good too)

Fresh fruit and vegetables…especially if they are from your garden or farm.  Does anyone have a garden or a farm in Orange County, CA?  If you have a potted plant with basil, I’m giving you props.

A walk in your woods with her husband. (Woods?  What woods? We have Ortega Canyon but people get mauled by mountain lions there)

Fence in her back yard so she can let her small children play in safety (ask first).  That’s clever that they tell you to ask first, I mean crap, can you imagine coming home to a new fence some random church member put up?)

Call her when your horse has just delivered so she can see a newborn kick up its heels…don’t laugh…I once helped a farmer deliver a calf. It gives you a new perspective when you watch an animal living in pure joy! (Oh, golly I always wanted to see a horse deliver.  Ummm, sounds like watching an ORK being delivered. What a GIFT! By the way, anybody have a horse?)

Provide the down payment for her dream home. (Heck yeah!!!!!!!)  But, I must confess I am living in my little dream home.  So, you can just cut me a check to create a writing studio over the garage, or to send our posse of kids to college)

Find out what kind of things she enjoyed before she was in ministry. Make it happen for her again. The schedule of ministry and the expectations of church members often encourage a pastor’s wife to be more conservative in areas where she would sometimes rather let loose. Help her do that…even if you have to take her two hours away so no one else from the church sees. (Can you say Vegas baby?  Ladies…pack your bags now!)

 Pay the monthly charges for a cell phone so she can stay in touch with friends and family. That’s $157.00 to be exact.

A corsage on a Sunday morning for no special reason except to say, “She’s special.”  (That sounds interesting-NOT)Babysit while she goes shopping. (Yessssss!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Drop off supper (call first).  If it’s before 6pm you don’t even need to call, because I never have my crap together before then anyway.

Buy a bag of groceries. (Not to be picky or anything, but I like ORGANIC)

Drop off a cup of her favorite cappuccino. (That’s an Americano from Starbucks with extra room and cream please)

 Get into the mindset that when you see special deals at stores such as “buy one get one free”, give the freebie to your pastor’s wife.  (Sweet!  Just don’t get the CVS diapers, because I bought a truckload on a special and they give my baby a rash)

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Bad Reindeer

My phone started buzzing last night with one text after the next.  It was vibrating so much it jumped off the table.  I grabbed it and laughed and started texting back.

Apparently, our reindeer have been getting busy.  And it wasn’t the first time today.  My husband came home and found them inappropriately coupling and moved them apart only to have Rudolph get all frustrated and as soon as we shut the door mount Clarice again.

What is in the water at the Keller house?  And, oh by the way, my husband Tim added that last line to my text to Staci.  I think it was a hint.

Just after we delicately removed the young buck and his gal for the second time of the evening and donned our winter caps, John Ramsay texted us. 

“Your reindeer are getting all crazy.”

Crap! Again?  Do they just wait for us to close the door and then start humping?

I guess next year we are going to have a herd of reindeer because Clarice is already showing signs of morning sickness.  Or maybe she’s just exhausted by her frisky buck?  (I can so relate)

 

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Ferris Keller

My husband has many unique attributes –some quirkier than others, but my favorite “Timism” has to be his distinct approach to making friends with everyone he meets.  Remember Ferris Bueller?  That’s what it’s like being married to this guy.  The world is just waiting to be Tim’s new friend.

Saturday, Tim and I (and our littlest girl Kolby) hit the mall to do some Christmas shopping.  But I made sure to lay down the ground rules before we left the house.

The rules were:

  1. No spending four hours debating over a single present.  That means we get in, we get out and we do not make dinner plans with our new best friend –the retail associate.
  2. No negotiating over prices in loud obnoxious voices.  This is the Mission Viejo Mall not the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul.
  3. No buying man purses.
  4. No strange behavior.

First we went to the Apple store, where in less than four minutes I had purchased a gift for my daughter that starts with an “i” and rhymes with mad.  (Sshhh!!!  Faith will be so excited). 

I knew exactly what I wanted and quickly made the purchase.  Just as I reached out to grab the receipt, Tim walks up with his new Apple BFF (some random retail dude) and I have to redo the order because I now have a $10 discount.  Then Tim and Apple guy start talking religion and technology and ten minutes later I excuse myself and head over to Pottery Barn.  I browse for a long time and then call him and leave a frantic text message to extricate him from the store.

Then we go and try on perfume at Nordstrom’s.  I find one I like and my husband debates eau de toilet vs. perfume with the lady –for another twenty minutes.  Once again I have to drag him out of the store because he has made a new “she-friend” and they have exchanged business cards.

Now we go to the hair kiosk and try on extensions and he makes another new friend with the hair lady.  I just love extensions because I have baby fine hair and sometimes, I wear them, and pretend I am a blond Kardashian.  Please don’t ask me if I have them on.  If my hair looks awesome just assume I do and if it looks stringy and like Rogaine would do me some good, you can assume I don’t.

Tim likes extensions too.  Sometimes he wears them and I pretend he is Fabio.

 

 

Then we go to every single kiosk in the mall to look for the perfect iPad cover for Faith and another one for Tim.  I bought him an iPad for his birthday in November and apparently he needs a different iPad cover for all the different ways you might ever want to use an iPad…like on a gondola in the Alps, preaching a sermon in Tuscany, or dancing in the Bahamas.  So there’s the mountain man iPad cover, pastor iPad cover, techno Ipad cover…and so on and so forth.

I’m dying here because all the stupid cases look the same but my sweetie has to check out every single freaking one before he can make a decision.  Then we run into our friend Dan and now we have a shopping posse.

Dan joins us as we head into Brookstone and my husband decides to climb into the massage chair.  The whole store gets a play by-play account as Tim’ calves, arms and derriere are massaged by the a-ma-zing chair.  Tim tries to negotiate with the young girls on the price and asks them very loudly to knock off $1000 off the large price tag.  They laugh and think he’s cute and weird and I crawl into a hole…and die again.

We head to lunch at Nordstrom’s café and have a lovely meal with Kolby and Dan and then inevitably, we go to the man purse store –Tim’s favorite place at the mall. 

And I’m sucked in to his excitement because he’s like a little kid amped up on Lucky Charms and he’s so excited to try all the bags on and find just the right one to fit his new iPad and make him look like James Bond. 

Kolby found one too.

We have a new name for the man purse.  It’s now called a holster and if you call it a murse Tim will pull out his gun and he might have to shoot you if you mock him. 

And I buy him a new holster because I am sucked into the vortex of Tim Keller and his exuberance.  And this man is so stinking energetic and adorable and friendly, he’s like Lassie and you just can’t help yourself from loving him because he’s contagious and absolutely priceless.

And that’s probably why he has over a thousand friends on Facebook and it’s why I go to bed every night with a smile on my face (though he might tell you it’s for another reason).

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Awkward Reindeer Games

Merry Christmas!

It’s been a whirlwind weekend despite my less than stellar health.  Tim and I frolicked and made enough Christmas cheer that my teenage son actually asked us, “so are you guys (like) partiers now?”

“No, son this is called the Christmas Season when normally boring parents don Santa Hats, red cocktail dresses, and sweater vests with snowmen.  It’s the time of year when we designate drivers, eat too much and try out new cocktails like “cake batter martinis.”

Some of the highlights of this festive weekend include:

  • Friday Cocktail Party: My husband approached an ongoing conversation and randomly overheard a woman describing a frisky sex game she plays with her husband…just then the host interrupted and introduced my husband to her as “Pastor Tim.”  Poor, poor woman… strangely enough, she avoided us the rest of the evening.
  • Me hacking up a lung at every event.  I coughed so much I have ripped abs.  I’m not kidding.  Forget seven minute abs –try bronchitis or the emu flu or whatever the heck I have. (And yes I’m heading to the doctor today because it feels like an elephant sat on my chest)
  • Attending my office Christmas party at the Cellar in Fullerton.  The Cellar is located at the site of the original Hotel California which is surprisingly haunted…pretty cool huh?  Personally I don’t believe in ghosts, but somehow my entire meal and my chocolate soufflé disappeared?  (darn ghost)
  • Decorating the awesome nine foot Christmas tree on Saturday morning with the family (that a very cool young man gave to us as a gift).  So fun!!!!  And little Kolby has only demolished three treasured ornaments that I hand-painted from 1980.  (Daddy forgot the three foot high toddler tree rule)

 

  • Waiting in line outside for Faith’s recital with no coats for thirty minutes in the freezing cold.  I told Kyle to go to the car and find something warm –a jacket, a blanket, anything so we wouldn’t turn into popsicles.  Unfortunately we were driving my husband’s car, so I didn’t know what he would find.  Kyle sheepishly came back with a stained and pitted undershirt of Tim’s he found in his gym bag that I was forced to use to wrap up baby Kolby to keep her warm.  I could see all the people around me curiously staring.  Yep that’s me-the woman who gives her toddler a crappy and stinky old t-shirt as a blankie. 

 

 

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Just Cracking Up Over Here

Check out my awesome boa!
 
I am having one of those icky-sicky days where I sound like a barking seal and feel like snotty slug.  But sometimes we have to buck up and get through these crap days.  I find that laughing is always the best medicine.
So, I decided to share some of my favorite silly finds of the day so you can share in my folly (or misery if you have no sense of humor).
How about some cat humor?
 

Source: popurls.com via Samantha on Pinterest

 

 

I’m on pins and needles waiting for him to say “boo!”

 

I think I saw a lady on Balboa Island with this little guy.  He was in a stroller.

 

Little offbeat humor here…for weird moms like me who know Goodnight Moon by heart.

 

I totally relate!  I’m a July baby.  It stinks man! And because I’m close to the 4th of July, people always give me sparklers as a gift.  What’s up with that?

Source: imgur.com via Samantha on Pinterest

 

Baby Charlie Brown…I love it!  All he needs is a crappy ornament!

 

This is so twisted and sick it’s kinda funny! He looks like a young Dexter.

I hope I made you grin! 

Much love…Sam

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Putting the “Fun” Back into Dysfunction

Normally by this time of year I’d be up to my ears in Christmas cheer, volunteering, filling bags of gifts for kids of felons, and helping to clothe and feed the homeless. But this December, due to a demanding writing schedule I’ve been a bit lax in my elvish duties. I’ve watched instead of engaged.

So in a guilt ridden effort to do at least one noble deed for the greater good, I want to acknowledge those that have stepped up to the plate.

Take my ex-husband “Uncle Brent” for instance. (For more details of this twisted relationship see the Dysfunctional Family, and “NO” I am not from Arkansas or Appalachia or mountainous communities where we marry our brothers).

A few weeks ago Uncle Brent mentioned he and his wife “Auntie Lauren” wanted to serve the homeless. I just happened to have a flier from church with a list of all the “do good” activities I planned to do but put off (no judgment please).

But Brent actually followed through and took my two older kids (Kyle and Faith) last Saturday to serve in downtown Santa Ana. My son Kyle filled me in on their adventure. He told me the leader of the group –Randy, asked Brent if he knew how to pray. Brent replied “yes.” So Randy informed Brent that he was now in charge of praying for the whole group before they tended to the poor. (No pressure!)

Now this might not sound like a big deal to most of you –but it’s kind of a big deal to my son, to me and maybe to Brent too. He hasn’t been super involved in church in a long time –since our divorce, actually (eight years ago), and in a roundabout twisted way, it felt sort of redemptive.

I never wanted to be the reason someone turned away from God but in all the mess of the divorce, I clung to the church in my (victim mentality) righteousness and Brent moved away in his (bad-guy) shame.

The truth is there should be room for both of us and God makes no distinction between the prodigal son and the older brother who played by all the rules.

It took me a long time to embrace forgiveness and understand true mercy, to let go of my anger, move towards healing and learn to love my ex-husband like a real brother. Fortunately the benefits of extending grace have far outweighed the excruciating refinement of my crusty character.

I can honestly say I enjoy co-parenting my son and daughter with Uncle Brent and Aunt Lauren. I know all of you divorced parents out there are like, “Really?” Yes! Really. I pinky swear.

I love watching my husband and ex-husband hang Christmas lights together and bumble around on the boom, seeing little Kolby squeal with delight when Auntie Lauren comes over, and I am overwhelmed with emotion when I hear my boy telling me about his dad leading a group of humble servants in prayer and service to the poor and needy.

And to me…this is what it’s all about.

To seek justice, love mercy and walk humbly with God.

(Oh yeah…and TO FORGIVE. Even when it’s hard)

From the Keller’s to Uncle Brent and Aunt Lauren…we love you and Merry Christmas.

Samantha, Tim, Kyle Adams, Faith Adams, and Kolby Keller

If you would like to jump on board this Christmas and help out the poor in the South Orange County area, here is a list of service opportunities through Mariners Mission Viejo Church.

Spread the Love by serving this year! And if you sign up, let me know and I’ll join you.

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The Awful Ornament and the Charlie Brown Hussy Part II

I got my invitation to the ornament exchange!  Sooooo excited Keri took pity on me and was kind enough to let me try again after last years blunder.

(See The Awful Ornament and the Charlie Brown Hussy)

I thought it was smart of her to clarify what type of ornament to bring this year!

Subtle but direct!
 
So, I’ve been trying to come up with an appropriate offering to the exchange.  Here’s a few ideas…
 
Baby's First Angst
 
Or maybe this one?
 
Hot Diggity Dog
 
How about this lovely?
 
 
Or my personal favorite…
Emu cutie!
 
I can’t wait for the big night!
 
Suggestions welcome!

 

 
 
 
 
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