I don't really do pain well.

About three weeks ago, I had an unfortunate incident and ended up hurting my back. I was down and out for a few days, but got some pain pills and a good massage and was starting to bounce back pretty well. Then, BAM, literally. I was in a car accident last week, interestingly enough, after leaving a massage appointment. I wasn't seriously hurt, but apparently my back was jarred or something. Since then, I have been in almost constant pain. Not stabbing through the heart pain where you can't breathe it hurts so bad (think: labor), but a constant, dull, throbbing pain. I think I'd almost rather have a few days of bad pain than 2 weeks of constant pain. My back pain has become the unwelcome companion to my days. It follows me around while I try to work. It makes it's presence known when I sit in a chair for more than about 10 minutes. It impolitely taps me on the shoulder when I stand for more than 10 minutes. It kicks me in the shins every time I wake up in the morning and roll out of bed like my 86 year old grandmother might.

Here's what constant pain does to me. It makes me terribly crabby. It also frustrates me to the point of tears. Physically, I guess I'm tough enough to take it, but mentally, I'm starting to come unglued. I don't like that I'm unable to perform my daily routine without pain. I spend my days dreaming not of warm sunny beaches and frozen drinks, but of ice packs and heating pads. I count the number of hours until I can go home, take a Vicodan, and lay down. I'm becoming a terrible wife and mother because I have no patience for anything except pain relievers. And all this makes me terribly, terribly sad. I'm sorry to anyone I am neglecting or snapping at. I wish I could change this behavior. I want to. I just don't do pain very well, I guess.

Is it worth the effort?

A while back, I somehow stumbled on a blog written by an extremely talented woman named Rita Ahrens. Since then, I've been reading religiously. The other day, she posted about her daughter and a ballet recital. I'll let you read the full version for yourself, but it contained one of the best lines I've heard in a while.

Mommy," she said. "Will I ever be a big ballerina like that?"

I didn't know the answer to that question. Will she stay with it? Will her flat feet bring her down? Will she be good at it?

So I told her what I've learned in 35 years. "Baby," I said, "it depends on whether you'll think it's worth the effort."

True that. And so it goes for almost everything. Is it worth the effort? Maybe this is one of those great truths in life. When you find the thing(s) that are worth the effort, maybe you've discovered your secret of life. As Curly told us in City Slickers, the secret of life is 1 thing. And you have to decide what that one thing is.

What's yours?

So how cute is this?

Just a sampling of our beach vacation folks. I've been too busy unpacking, trying to put out work fires and getting t-boned by cars to post much more. I have a ton of super cute shots though. I'll try to get it together soon.

Made me giggle.

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

That's it. It just made me smile this morning, so I thought I'd share. I had several white cats growing up, though no fluffy ones. I named them, so creatively, Cotton and Candy.

Graduation!

Due to my aching back, I have been kind of lax in getting the graduation pictures up. But, here they are! (Extra special thanks to Vicodan for helping me get out of bed today.)

Joshua, Jeremiah, Jonathan and Justin

Luke, Jeremiah, and Hanna

Jeremiah and his 1st teacher, Rebekah Haught. Rebekah, you are sorely missed!

Teacher number 2, Carol Morgan. Thank you Carol, for making the transition a success.

And here is Jeremiah and Hanna. Jeremiah spent the entire year being in love with Hanna. I personally think he made a pretty good choice.

There you have it folks. Jeremiah survived kindergarten. He learned to read, he learned to write his name in cursive, and he learned that God is with you in whatever you do. What more do you need?

We are more than conquerors

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. -Romans 8:37

Congratulations MVCA kindergartners! May your walk with Christ be joyous and your life be rich and full of the spirit.

I cried today.

And some of you may be thinking, so what? But, here's a fact you may not know about me: I am not a crier. I used to be. I used to cry, as they say, "at the drop of a hat". I was not shy about expressing my emotions. I would cry when I was happy, I would cry when I was sad, I would cry when I was angry, and I would cry because I couldn't find my shoes.

But somewhere along the line, the tears dried up. This happened for a lot of reasons, I guess. I stopped crying because big girls don't cry. I stopped crying because it didn't do any good anyway. I stopped crying because I didn't want to appear weak. I stopped crying because I was afraid that if I did cry, the fragile house of cards upon which I perched would collapse. But most of all, I knew that if I started crying, I wouldn't be able to stop.

I hope I wasn't right.