Peacetime

Not sure if all families would call dinnertime, "Peacetime", but tonight, in our house, it was.

We began by reading a variety of several mealtime prayers. We've had goal of adopting one for our family. One which would be displayed on the wall in the kitchen to be recited in unison at all meals. We found one tonight that we all loved and are working on memorizing it together.

"Lord Jesus Christ
You blessed us with five loaves and two fish
Bless this food we share
Place Your peace in our hearts
and your love in our lives. Amen."

After dinner we began reading My First Message and then used clay to artistically portray something that God first created. I made a sun. George, a whale. Harper, a fish. Zane. Zane. Zane. Well, it was a big ball of clay with two eyes and a pencil sticking out the bottom. First he said is was a "circle tree". We're not quite sure, but, well, that's not the point, right? The point was that we all enjoyed a peaceful dinnertime, devotion, and some hand's on creativity around the table.

When asked the question, "If you could create something, what would you make?" Harper answered "A mechanical dog. So it would always do what I say."

And when asked what we are most thankful for with regards to God's creation? Zane, of course, answered "Lions".

And Harper's answer?

"Life."

Peacetime accomplished.

Validation, Recommendations, and Rejuvination

I didn't have to teach this morning.

I awoke, gave the children breakfast, drank my coffee, got Harper and Zane out the door and then enjoyed the quietness of a house all to myself. ALL TO MYSELF!

I colored my hair (I have no problem admitting this), got on the elliptical, took a shower, watched Oprah until the President interrupted the broadcast with his bumbling attempts at public speaking (but I listened), had some more coffee, filled a Mary Kay order, and am now, sitting down to write.

The morning was MINE!

This morning I awoke feeling VALIDATED. I do indeed have a maternal gut that I can trust. I do indeed know my child quite intimately. I am indeed an advocate for my precious daughter. My research was not in vain. My discovery that she has behaviors which communicate anxiety and adhd have been validated by Dr. Jha, who through this process of evaluation has been warm, friendly, informed, professional, caring, and complimentary . . . apparently, according to her, I am a good "historian" of Harper. Well, come on, the cord may be cut, but that invisible connection is still attached!

This morning I awoke with RECOMMENDATIONS for Harper. On Monday, we will be discussing medication, further therapy for the anxiety, and academic testing as we continue driving down this unfamiliar road, of which I'm having a bit of an easier time navigating.

This morning I awoke with a feeling of REJUVINATION. As a person who thinks in black and white (with, admittedly, a lot of emotion and drama sprinkled in), having a plan and direction gives me a feeling of freedom. Through this process, I have poured my efforts and energy into Harper and Zane. I have grown to crave time with them. At the same time, however, I have done so at the detriment of my personal health. Eating whatever is around, no exercise, paralyzing myself in front of the TV so that I don't have to think. This morning, in contrast, I took care of myself. It felt nice.

Spring.

Sure, once again, the weather report is calling for snow tonight.

But, through the snow, I see green sprouts of Spring in our home's climate.

The sprouts are tiny. But they are PRESENT and they will GROW.

"So let us know. Let us press on to know the Lord. His going forth is as certain as the dawn. And He will come to us like the rain. Like the SPRING rain, watering the Earth." (Hosea 6:3 NAS)

So let us press on to know the Lord.

A Swift Kick In the Snowpants

I reread my blog from last night, and while it is an honest portrayal of how I'm currently feeling, I realized that it communicated someone void of hope. I, on the waaaay other hand, am NOT void of hope. This is where things take a dramatic turn with regards to how I choose to respond and handle the difficulties of life. For I may wallow for a moment, but then due to my faith, I get up. Time and time again. I just get up. Sometimes that's all you can do. Stand up. At least I can do that. God can then move me forward. He did that today.

Read on.

As a believer in God, I do NOT for a moment believe that He has abandoned walking with us through this season. I haven't once questioned Him about why Harper is the way she is. (I'm not saying it isn't ok to question, I'm just saying that I haven't.) While my writings may sound as if I am depleted all all the hope within me, the truth is, I am not. The feelings of fatigue and frustration are most definitely present, but the TRUTH of God's presence is the anchor onto which I cling.

Today, I got a swift butt-kickin'.

She doesn't realized that she gave me a swift butt-kickin', but indeed, Kim Klamm did indeed do just that.

The foot she used was the Word of God. I can't say it hurt. But it did sting a bit and managed to propel me forward and knock a bit more sense into me.

Her text today: Psalm 139. I have to admit, there are certain scriptures that I tend to ignore because they seem so overused, over taught, and over dramatized. This is one of them. "Oh, I am so fearfully and wonderfully made!"

Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all about a zillion times.However, today, I realized that I am not treating Harper or speaking about her as if I believe she is a unique design crafted by God - she is the work of His hands. God sees all of us as unique designs in which there are no mistakes. And while I do feel a great pride in both of my children, I don't think I've been communicating how beautiful I see Harper to be. Her Artist crafted such a brilliant, creative, enthusiastic, engaging, curious, thoughtful, empathetic, person when He formed her, and I would be well to share that with her. She is not a work of art for which I can take credit. God knit both of my treasures and has entrusted me to love and nuture and protect these precious pieces with His leading and His guiding and His strength.

I marvel when I look at her.I want her to marvel in who God has made her to be. What is Harper's perspective of herself?

I wonder if I've been secretly hoping that Harper's design would change. And it is this thought that triggers the question: Whose design for Harper am I desiring?

Mine. The facade of a socially well adjusted child who is competely adaptable in all situations and enjoys and excells in academic, physical, and creative extra-curricular activities. I could go on an on, but quite frankly (butt kick), I'm describing (butt kick) a robot (butt kick).

I do love her the way she is. Forgive me for being "that" Mom, but I have a really cool kid. My inner drive is based on a desire that she will learn to love herself and build confidence (not vanity) about who she is, and who she will become. It is the outer drive, the application of this inner drive, that I need to flesh out.

So, know that while I struggle, my deepest desire is that she would truly know her Artist and that she is, indeed, a work of art. And while God may be needing to do some restorations right now, she is still a rare, unique, one of a kind design.

Priceless.

Needing An Emotional Thaw

Okay, so if you've been keeping up with my blog, you already know that we're struggling to find a diagnosis and treatment for Harper. And while we are very assured that there is something going on in that head of hers for which she needs help, today, I tested her a bit. I wanted to experiment with pushing her buttons.

I know, I know, this sounds so mean. Just wait.

Feeling compelled to find out whether some of her behaviors at home are due to, as we so eloquently put it, "that tricky brain" or whether she's just being a cleverly disobedient 7 year old, I decided to challenged her every time she whined, told me no, refused to comply, or said she was tired.

I didn't yell. I didn't shout. I did speak firmly and held my ground.

I sent her to her room to calm down every time she countered me. And it's not like I was asking her to do anything out of the ordinary.

What I found is that she just didn't want to do what I asked and actually used the line, "Mom! Why won't you support me in this!" (a reference to "tricky brain") out of frustration when I wouldn't cave.

I told her that I was very supportive of helping her. Please! Of ALL people, God knows I'm all about helping her. I also told her that her ability to obey the rules of our home (i.e. homework before electronics, dirty clothes to the hamper, pajamas before TV time, bedtime after books) has NOTHING to do with "tricky brain".

Chicago winters are long.

I feel like our home has been stuck in "winter" for awhile now. We are in a blizzard of emotion and activity. Even wonderful fellowship events like dinner with the Klamm's are windy and cold and icy and unpredictable for me as I never know how Harper will interact with other kids (they have 8. 7 of which were home that night), when I will have to step in, if I should even step in, how to explain her stomping around saying she wants to leave and never come back, or the frequent "I'm bored" comments. I'm constantly on guard that a snowball or avalanche is headed my way. I actually admitted to George that as amazing as I really think Harper is, I just want her to get along with people and play normally with other kids. It always seems like such a chore.

Like shoveling snow.

You get it done, and then, turn around to get hit by another storm.

My head is a constant blizzard. I can't shovel fast enough. The sting of the cold is leaving me numb.

"Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone" Colossians 4:6 (New International Version)

What do you do in the winter when you find you are running out of salt?

We're expecting another 6-9 inches tomorrow night.

Flight ADHD Now Boarding

I am cutting and pasting a recent email sent to me by my sister which describes, so perfectly, an accurate description of ADHD.

Why?

Because we have a very deep crevasse of a hunch, that this is indeed what is contributing to Harper's frustrations and anxiety.

While ADHD is quickly passed off as a behavioral disorder where the kid is merely jumping all over and can't sit still (and, yes, this IS a component), the following reveals a side to ADHD which gets dismissed all too easily:Comprehension and ADHD are linked.

Think of it this way...people usually say that kids with ADHD are very distractible and inattentive. That's actually inaccurate. What they are is hyper-attentive, which means that they are attentive to everything around them, not being able to filter out that which is not relevant for the task at hand.

So a kid with ADHD while trying to do his work is attentive to the pencil sharpener noise, to another kid moving his chair, to the door opening and closing, to the itchiness of his shirt tag against his skin, to his hunger pains, to random thoughts that the work brings to mind. All these things come to the forefront of these kids' minds vying for equal attention. Kids without ADHD may hear/see/feel/think these same things, but are able to file away the random distraction or thought, set it to the side, in order to focus on what they're supposed to. For the child with ADHD, that filter is not there, or has not been "turned on".

So, absolutely, Harper could be "reading"/parroting the words out loud, but not comprehending the story, its details, etc because that tiny, little, amazing brain of hers is going a 100 miles a minute recording and responding to everything around her.

As of yet, we don't know for sure that ADHD is the culprit, but as we document all that has happened with Harper over the past few years, we seem to continually land here.I honestly never thought we'd be on this flight, but we're coming in for a landing, and once we do, we need to find luggage claim and retrieve the right help for my little girl with the travelling mind.

Let's just hope we can find our luggage and get moving!

Comprehension

George has begun reading "The Last Trail" by Zane Grey to the kids. Harper is only somewhat enthused.

Zane, however?

Well, this morning, he picked up the book and said, "In the beginning of this book the Indians ate all the food in the camp."

And, sure enough, this does happen in chapter one.

The most interesting point of all this, however, is that George read this chapter over two weeks ago.

Way to retain little man!Just call him Zane: our little Clif Note.

Artist In Residence

A rocket, wizard, corn (far left).

A crane.

How Much Louder Does She Have To Scream It?

"I don't feel like myself. I am a superhero that can't fly."

Harper's latest eye-opening comment about herself.

Answers, please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Arrr, Ye Water Park Be That Way!

Why I be speakin' like a buccaneer?

I be so glad ye asked. On our water filled adventure this weekend, we had th' pleasant surprise o' sharin' th' hotel wi' a Science Fiction convention.

Now, if ye`ve nereseen "Trekkies", I highly suggest ye do, as this will provide a pretty darn clist picture o' what we experienced durin' our overnight trip. Aye, thar be Starfleet officers. But, e'en more prevelant, be th' buccanneers. Lot`s an' lot`s o' buccanneers. Lot`s o' puffy shirts, synched shirts an' britches, stuffed birds an' monkey`s atop shoulders, an' goblets.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Ok, I'm done.Yes, we shared our weekend with Capricon, a Science Fiction convention held in Chicago every year. Clearly, a theme which centered on pirates, sea dogs, swabbie's, seafarin' hearties, or whatever you prefer to call 'em, provided the attendee's with some great motivation for their costumes.Yes. That's right! I said costumes!

When we first arrived to check in we noticed pirates in the lobby. Lot's of pirates. We then noticed the signs for the convention. As the day went on there were Starfleet officers, fairies, and, yes, even a Viking Princess.This provided quite a show for the kids. Every 5 seconds Zane was saying, "Hey there's another pirate!"

I think the most interesting exchange came while Harper was pretending to do some karate in the lobby. A boy, around 8 or 9, came over to her really excited and goes,"Cool! Want to see some real avatar moves?"He then proceeds to show us real avatar moves.We both didn't know what an avatar was.From the look she shot me, if this had been Harper on a date with some guy and if I were the friend that calls at an agreed upon time to "check in" in order to provide an "out", I would have most definitely received the "Oh, no! Do you need me to come get you?" response from her and then she would have apologetically excused herself and fled home.

This same boy crawled over to Zane roaring like a lion. ZANE HAS A HUGE FEAR OF LIONS. When he told the kid to "get away from me", the boy, very sweetly, put his hand on Zane's leg and said, "It's ok. I'm a human."

I did try to make a bit of joke while taking a photo of a vulcan."Ok, try not to show any emotion!""I never do" was the response.

I was very impressed with the Starfleet Officer who changed into Indiana Jones later in the evening. I hope he won something for his effort.

The waterpark was great, the room was great, the meals were great, not answering the cell phone or having a computer was great, the time with the kids fantastic, and getting away, even if just for one night, was completely necessary.And, yes, I must admit, the costumed guests did provide great entertainment for our overnight winter getaway.

A good time be had by all.

Especially th' gentleman an' ladies o' fortunes.

Be Prepared

A whale.
A mountain.
A mountain turning into an octopus.
Corn.

All drawings that my son has made this week. Drawings that actually DID resemble the actual objects themselves.

Maybe he can draw a charged camera battery.Maybe the drawing of the charged camera battery will look so real that we can actually place it next to my camera which will then miraculously be able to actually TAKE A PHOTO OF HIS DRAWINGS!

Or, maybe I just need to get rid of the magnadoodle and buy my kid some paper.

And charge my camera battery.

Side note:Why, during what is supposed to be naptime, does it sound like Zane is actually DRIVING HIS CRIB ACROSS THE ROOM?

Yeah, I'd better go.

Friday Night's Pre-dinner Entertainment

George's pre-dinner entertainment:

Battling rush hour traffic to take Scout to the vet for her check up.

Getting to the vet, only to find that Scout had thrown up in her crate.

Getting Scout's bedding out of the crate and shaking it off in the parking lot in an attempt to clean it.

Cleaning up Scout.

Cleaning up after Scout again when she pooped in the waiting room.

Battling rush hour traffic to get back home.

Stopping by Pita Inn to pick up an order.

Realizing that Zane had had a blow out while waiting for the order.

Getting home to find that Scout had thrown up in her crate for the second time.

Giving Scout a bath.

Giving the crate a bath.

He sounded great as I spoke with him on the phone about all this. How? "I'm CHOOSING joy" was his response.

And then, making it all worth it . . . we enjoyed a wonderful dinner together and then spent the remainder of the evening watching the kids sit and sift through all the scrapbooks I'd made and all the photo's of us prior to children. The time together was priceless, their comments were so very sweet ("When did I see Santa?" "That's me, Harper!" "I look just like YOU!") ("Mom! I'm so cute!" "Yes, Zane." "Mom, I'm not going back in your tummy." "No, Zane.") and thus, the evening, just seemed to fall into place.Although I'd already had a stellar evening.

Joline's pre-dinner entertainment:

Taking Harper shopping for clothes with the gift card from Uncle Chuck.

Picking shirts off the rack only to be told, "Mom, that is soooooo yesterday!" Thank you Hannah Montana.

Realizing, that my daughter has really distinct and funky tastes. I was FLOORED by what she chose to try on: bold patterns, leggings, very trendy designs. Um, who are you?

Watching Harper's face LIGHT UP when she looked at herself in the mirror in clothes other than jeans and a long sleeve tee. "Mom! I really like this. It goes great with my hair!"

Watching her try on the coolest dress, (an asian design which she just loved on the rack) only to comment on the arms . . . "I look like an Emporer. I like it, but not the sleeves. Look! I'm an emporer." I mean, who says this?

"Apparently, this will not work."

"Apparently, this will!"

Learning that my daughter is a fun shopping partner.

Watching Harper's confidence soar as she really looked at herself.

The conversation following our shopping outing:

"Harper, it's not the clothes that make you cool."

"It isn't?"

"No. There's nothing wrong with wanting to find clothes that kind of match your personality and make you feel like yourself. But, it's not as important as . . . well, look at your world map. What makes you cool is that God made this entire world and universe and loves YOU!"

"Really?" Pause. "It's weird."

"What's weird?"

"I don't think I'm great. My brain tells me that I can't do anything."

"Well, that's not God talking." This moved into a conversation about different kinds of doctors. One's who fix broken bones, one's who fix ears, and noses, and throats, and, even . . . thoughts inside our heads.

And then, at dinner, we talked about our personalities. When I asked Harper what my personality was, she answered with, "You are like the most famous singer! And, don't forget. There's also the Mary Kay." (She also added that I was famous like Ben Stiller. Huh?)

She then defined her personality as being good at handwriting and reading.

Hmmm . . . defining ourselves by what we wear and what we do. Now, isn't that a blog for another day?

Anyway, I had an incredible bonding evening with my daughter.

While George got to clean up a lot of waste.

But, so did I. Kind of. Although mine wasn't as messy and didn't really smell or make me want to gag and wash my hands a million times.

We're parents. We clean waste. With the help of God we attempt to clean the waste the best we can, whether that be diapers, dogs, or . . . the demeaning thoughts that seem to stack up in my daughter's head that tell her that she's not able to do anything well.

I did share with her that sometimes, I don't get it right as a Mom.

Harper: "Mom, mom, mom. That is so, so, so, not right!"

Zane: "Yeah, Mom. You have to believe." You too, kiddo's.

Believe.

A Literary Adventure

The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane
by Kate DiCamillo illustrated by Bagram Ibatoulline


Once, in a house on Egypt Street, there lived a china rabbit named Edward Tulane. The rabbit was very pleased with himself, and for good reason: he was owned by a girl named Abilene, who treated him with the utmost care and adored him completely.

And then, one day, he was lost.

And then, one day, we finished the book. It was lovely. Zane was entranced and asked me everyday if we were going to read about Edward Tulane. Harper would exclaim, "One more chapter!" after each one ended. Reading this book has been a joy.

And the literary analysis of the piece? Eye opening indeed. In discussing it over a chocolate cupcake, I asked Harper what Edward had found on his journey. "Love" she said simply. And truely this book speaks both to learning about the beauty of love as well as the heartache of love. Sometimes, George and I tell the kids that we love them so much it hurts. This is what Edward learns.

Then she adds, "It was kind of like that other story. You know, the movie we saw where the two teenagers and the kid travel to that place where there wasn't any love."

What?

Oh! "A Wrinkle in Time?" (which we watched back in December, which scared her a bit and thus we skipped some parts, and which seemed to go right over that little head of hers.)

"Yeah! That one!"

After that comment, I bent down, looked straight in her eyes and said, "Little girl, don't you doubt yourself. You are so bright. You know so many beautiful things. You fascinate me!"

Lest we forget about Zane's literary analysis . . .

"Zane, what did your learn from Edward Tulane?"

"Um, Tru-dog?"

Oh, snap.

Speaking of Zane . . . he attempted to repeat something I said today. Something he heard while up in his crib apparently NOT napping. Something that wasn't all together . . . um, glowing. See, we got the house cleaned today. Looks great. Smells great. And then, I hear this awful sound from the living room. And then the smell hits me. Scout had diarrhea. On the new clean carpet. Just two hours after having my house cleaned! In a phone called to George, I shared that Scout had crapped on the rug.

And then, Zane, shared the news with Harper after school.

"Harper, Scout cracked on the rug."

She didn't understand, so I quickly corrected.

"No, Zane, Scout pooped on the rug."

"Oh, right."

Oh snap.

Departures

I voted tonight.

Democratic ballot.

So did George.

This is a first.

Does this make me an ObamaMama?

What do we do with my Dad's elephant tie that is hanging in the closet?

Ebay?

Nudge, Nudge

How must I show responsibility in my family?
Does my lack of acting responsibly affect those in my family?
Does God call me to model responsibility?

My need to reflect upon this word and my relationship with responsibility is due, in part, to a situation that occured this morning when Zane woke up. Out of the crib he climbed and immediately turned and yelled in my face, "Mommy! Clean up my room!"

Um, I don't think so.

However, as much as I wanted to tell him to put a lid on it, I secretly wondered if I had somehow played a role in his behavior. After all, my room is a complete mess most of the time, and yet, I am always asking my children to clean up. And it's not as if I have assigned specific chores for Zane (other than helping to put the toys away downstairs), nor have I had the mental or physical fortitude to tackle the idea of family chores over the past few months. The mere thought of implementing a new "plan" or "routine" just fatigues me.

And yet, this does him no good. It does no good to say "Clean up!" when I'm not modeling the behavior myself, and it does no good to avoid putting some schedule in place to help facilitate a daily habit of responsibilities for all the members of this family.

Matthew 25:21 says
“The master was full of praise. ‘Well done, my good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in handling this small amount, so now I will give you many more responsibilities. Let’s celebrate together! (NLT)

While I've not worked all of this out in my head or heart yet, I do know that one of the ways I feel compelled to pray for my family is in the area of our faithfulness in handling "small amounts" (or "few things" in the NIV, NAS). God has given us so many wonderful "small amounts" and He's given us the tools to use them wisely. Have we?

I've come to the conclusion that perhaps we can not get out of this overwhelming pit where we are constantly trying to play catch up in our home because we are indeed NOT being faithful in the small amounts that God asks us to tend to every day. This doesn't mean that I am leaning towards a legalistic or rigid plan of attack. I am leaning towards finding the CELEBRATION that God speak of in this verse. Where's the party????? How do we develop a spirit of sanctuary and celebration in our home?

I believe, that until we dig out (as right now the small amounts are in piles all over the place) and actually handle and take responsibility for the small daily things, we will not experience a CELEBRATION. And for sure, we won't be given any larger responsibilities that could benefit our family.

This is just the beginning of a prayerful thought process based upon some nudgings I've been getting from the Lord.

Ah, I love a good nudge. Don't you?

So Why the Pink Biz?

While nobody has actually come right out and asked me this question, I know that many a family/friend have wondered about this new venture. So let me address a few questions:

Are you still coaching actors?

Are you still teaching parent/child music?

Can you really make money selling Mary Kay?

I first began selling Mary Kay because I needed to bring in an extra couple hundred dollars a month. I was already using the product, and have always been into skin care and cosmetics. So, for those reasons alone, the business was a good match. I knew that I needed to find part time work that would allow me to stay home with my kids, rather than leaving them with a sitter after school on a daily basis. One of my dreams, and this could still happen one day, would be to stay home and write all day - but to date, noone has come forward to say, "Hey! Here's $50. Blog today!"

Due to some shifts in our family life, and namely the conviction that I was spending the best hours of my children's day (outside of school) away from them while I coached other children for auditions, I knew that I needed to make a change. So, to answer question number one:

No, coaching is not my mainstay any longer. In all honesty, I have retained 5 clients. Five out of 20 or so. But, that is all.

To answer question number two: I am still teaching parent/child music classes at one location, and thanks to Mary Kay, will be adding a pink electric guitar sound to the mix.

The interesting part of all of this is how surprised I am by the way Mary Kay has captured my interest and my heart. It is truely a business designed to empower women. Mary Kay empowers us to build personal businesses, but not with a "Good luck with all that" approach. They provide the tools we need to succeed: great products, training, conferences, encouragement, friendships, ideas, recognition. And yet, ultimately, I can either CHOOSE to work or CHOOSE not to work. I don't have to attend trainings. I don't have to educate myself on the products. I don't have to call my customers for follow up or contact potential new customers for appointments.

The choice is mine.

I must realize, however, that if I don't show up for work, nothing gets done.
I have noone else to blame. I must take ownership. I haven't felt this way since leaving the world of auditioning and performing, where I had to put forth my best effort to get that next job. Noone could get the gig for me then. The same is true here. I am personally responsible.

I think all women need to experience an entrepreneurial venture. I hear so many say, "Oh, I could never do that." It's so easy to put oneself down, isn't it?
Harper wrote me a card the other day which read, "Mary Kay rocks and it believes. It's a party, y'all!" Does she see that Mom is feeling motivated in this new venture and has begun to experience a bit of a resurge of energy by tackling something new? Or does she merely see that Mom is now home after school, cooks creative meals, eats dinner with the family and runs a great "Bedtime Cafe" before bed, complete with snacks and books? What is it about Mary Kay that "rocks" in my daugher's opinion? Honestly, I think it's that Mom is HERE!

So, while I began this business with the hopes of just making a few extra hundred a month, and yes, I have made money by just selling the product (question number 3), I have now turned a corner and am committed to embracing this business further. I want to build a team. I want to train others. I want to continue building a business that I run on my schedule, in my home, with my family by my side.

Mary Kay is so much more than just skin care and cosmetics. I now see this after my 6month run. And while it is not rocket science, don't be fooled by the pink. It does take an effort to run this business.

And what of any value doesn't take effort?

Gigios Pizza. God's Chosen Slice?

I don't want to forget one of my favorite Zane moments . . . and will, if I don't post it. This actually happened back in December. Right around Christmas.

Sitting in Gigio's, our pizza joint of choice, Zane notices a man enter. A large man. A large man with a long beard. A large man with a long, white, beard.

"Dad! Look! . . .

(wait for it)

IT'S GOD!"

See! Who needs stuffed pizza when Gigio's serves up a great New York slice?