You’re welcome, sweetie…

Last night was an ongoing vandal nightmare.

Singular vandal.  Just Sam. My hands are still shaking.  After several days at my parents’ lakehouse, he is what some would excuse as, “over-tired.”

If that is what I am feeling, he is in bad shape.  My head is pounding. My stomach is in knots, and I can’t quit crying.  Unlike Sam, I have yet to intentionally bang my head against the wall, cry so hard I vomit or wet myself… but it’s early.  I am keeping my options open.

tantrum 2

We will be here until Monday, assuming Nana and Papa don’t kick us to the curb.  I feel they are keeping their options open as well.

When 8 Amerines are the guests camping in your second story the pressure to be of minimal annoyance falls to Justin and me.  We are constantly begging “SHHHHH!” and harshly whispering, “PLEASE STOP!” And this isn’t just directed at the littles.  The giant vandals have been separated for weeks by military school; there are chases, pranks, and wrestling that must be worked out.

ceiling fan

Needless to say, my parents are continually dusted by falling sheet rock, and I think a ceiling fan or two are hanging by a cord.  They politely laugh and turn up the television.  I did notice that they are making huge red Xs on the calendar by the back door.  I try not to take it personally. They are probably just overtired.

My 5-year-old nephew, who I like to call “The George,” is brutally honest and says what everyone else is probably thinking. At one insane point with 15 of us at dinner he said, “Aunt Jami, those babies aren’t listening to you at all.  You should just stop talking now.”


And he is right. At this point, I am probably just adding to the noise.

But during my sleepless night last night, Sam had calmed for a bit I did a sleep exercise I learned a long time ago, giving thanks alphabetically. Simply put, you thank God for something from each letter of the alphabet. Sometimes I fall asleep, sometimes… I get a lot of Thanksgiving done.


But I rarely stop talking…

And maybe I am delirious, and maybe this will get me committed, but about the time I got to “P” and was thankful for my “Parke” cousins, and the arrival of new Parke baby soon, it occurred to me I was missing out on the communion of Thanksgiving – the reciprocating, “You’re welcome.”

The Father in Heaven that I am thankful to for His on-going goodness rarely gets a chance to respond.  And sure, a lot of times when I am bemoaning my troubles I wait for Him to lend a Word of hope, healing, or guidance. But, if I thank my earthly parents for putting up with the herd of buffalo they are housing, I stop talking long enough for them to say, “You’re welcome, sweetie.”

thank you cards

And I am sure the Author of All is grateful to hear our praises and thanks.  I believe He loves to hear from us. His Word dictates we should give thanks and praise in all things (1 Thess 5:18.)  But last night, in my delirium, I waited after each thanks and basked in the, “You’re welcome, sweetie.”

Q – “Thank you for this soft, warm quilt.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie…”


R – “Thank you for the gift of rain, that refreshes and renews.”

“You’re welcome; it’s My favorite too.”

S – “Sigh, thank you for Sam, and that I am here to comfort him. Please help us sleep.”

“You’re welcome… this too shall pass.”

T – “Thank you… I love you.”

“You’re welcome, I love you too.”

I pray today in the midst of your Thanks there is a moment where you hear the glorious whisper of Our Father in Heaven, He is glad for your thanks…He is eager to tell you, “You’re welcome, sweetie.” He patiently awaits communion with His working mamas – treading on the sacred ground of home.

Colossians 4:2 (NASB) “Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with an attitude of thanksgiving.”

Happy Thanksgiving! May your floors be sticky and your calling ordained.  Love, Jami

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retro thanksgiving 2It is time… you have to think of Thanks.

But, this year I am REALLY thinking about Thanks.

I wonder how I often I say it without a thought. I wonder how often I say it with an overflowing heart.



“Thanks!” (… I needed that breath mint.)

“Thanks!”(…for not arresting him, again.)

“Thanks!”(… I hate you.)

“Thanks!” (… I didn’t even realize I was a kid short?)


grocery shop 3

As I composed this in the HEB parking lot, I did so with malice in my heart. I have a pet peeve, and my stance on it will probably get me pummeled one day.  It has gotten me yelled at, and profanity lobbed at me.  But I continue to take my steady posture.

It brings out the snarky in me. It makes me take stock of the real Jami.

There is a Jami, with her screaming vandals and $300.00 in groceries, that will let you go in the checkout line in front of her because you have fewer items in your basket.  I want you to go ahead of me. I can hold off the vandals with a sucker from the display.

retro grocery


There is the Jami that let you have the last frozen, gluten-free pie crust.  I want you to have it.  I will ready one from scratch. It is the season to be generous, please, go ahead.

There is the Jami, who helps the lady in motorized scooter reach the jar of Nutella on the top shelf. Truly, what human wouldn’t help out another human in need of Nutella?

And then there is this Jami. Typing a blog post on thankfulness, in her car.  She opened a bag of Oreos to placate the vandals.  She turned on “Monsters Inc.” to amuse them. And she did all of it so you can’t have her parking space.

grocery shop 2

You heard me.

You are an able bodied man.  I am in the 20th place in the back 40 of this enormous grocery store parking lot. And yes, I saw you sitting there while I unloaded groceries.  I saw your irritated impatience as I wrestled my screaming babies.  And yes, I am parked on an incline and yes, I was using one foot to keep my overloaded basket from rolling away.  I am a master of multi-tasking.  And I can hurry when I need to, but I won’t hurry for you.


Your music is too loud.  Your truck is too tall.  You’re blocking traffic three cars deep, waiting for me to finish that which I desperately want to be over; Thanksgiving feast shopping with these two angry, sticky, crying toddlers. And I will not accommodate you. Park somewhere else.


I am thankful that you are not the boss of me.  I am thankful I married a gentleman.  I am thankful the Oreos were in plain sight.  I am thankful the shopping is all done.  I am thankful there are people at home to unload these groceries for me.


I am thankful I thought to grab a diet coke at checkout, I am über thankful my diet coke is a little frozen, I love the icy part floating on top.  Bonus.  I am most thankful that the person sitting behind you for the last ten minutes will have this parking space.  And I am thankful you will not.


This morning, while shaving my legs, I did that thing with a new razor where you cut all the flesh off your ankle, and you can actually see the bone?  I fashioned a tourniquet out of one of my mom’s guest towels; I bled all the way through it. This occurrence is something I know most women reading this will cringe at the memory of.

retro shaveIt is one of womenhood’s more painful rites of passage. It takes months to heal.  I think women want to acknowledge the pain associated with this type of shaving injury. We all bear the scar.  You can’t get through efficient hair removal in this lifetime without once scalping your ankle bone. I don’t know if there is a major artery on the ankle bone, but it bleeds like you amputated your foot.  And it will ruin the bath mat, and it will dictate which shoes I wear for the next three weeks. I am 44 years old; I have to have done this to my ankle at least a dozen times in my life, do I even have hair follicles on my ankle any longer? Surely I can just not shave there ever again? But, I do. And it hurts.

You know, I didn’t know when or where I would appropriately fit this excruciating shaving topic into a blog, and then you sir, sat and waited for my parking spot.  You were rude. You were arrogant. You are a bonehead.


May your floors be sticky and your calling ordained! Love, Jami

Give thanks in everything!” 1Thessalonians 5:18



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Wheel of Wisdom 

Re-blogging this today. Thankful for great husband and that I don’t always have to have the right answers!  Source: Wheel of Wisdom 

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Wheel of Wisdom 

Re-blogging this today. Thankful for great husband and that I don’t always have to have the right answers!


My dear husband can do almost anything. He is a brilliant mind. He sees things no one else sees. He once repaired a busted radiator hose on the side of the road with a zip tie and a rubber boot. The recipient of this MacGyver auto repair swears he drove it another 100 miles before he had it professionally restored.


Oddly enough Justin loves to watch Antique Road Show. He can guess the price of antiques to within tenths of a cent. It’s an odd superpower that is the only thing that makes the Antique Road Show a tolerable form of entertainment. A Russian tea cup from 1819 with a chip in the handle? Justin will matter of factly say, $3967.22. And then the announcer will say “$3967.23, because of the chip.”tea cup


Cow herding, business owner, hand cut French fry chef, plow boy, Antique Road Show champion, diaper changing…

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Dear Weight Watchers,

Hey, guys! Listen, Y’all are awesome. Talk about having your cake and eating it too. You can have cake! This is nice. It’s a lovely touch. I recently signed up, again, and I have high hopes.  I left the last time because I was afraid of that orange monster. I have actual monsters that taunt me with their last chicken nugget and French fries so that just scared me for other reasons. And also, I tend to be a quitter.

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And I am ashamed that I need to whine about this, the size of my butt truly is a first world issue that should be easily resolved with some self-control. Americanized Jesus and I chatter about it often. I am readily ashamed.

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Here’s the thing. I currently have six kids, ranging in age from 20 years to 20 months. I was scrolling through your activities and the points for activities, and I think you are really missing the mark on points expenditures. I am not a scientist, and I know you have used scientists in lab coats in your commercials in the past, but I think you’d do well to add these to the points calculator.  It would speak volumes to mom consumers that need to lose a few pounds.


I’ll start off by stating the obvious: Bedtime.  I am about 99% sure the energies required to get pajamas on the toddlers, which is like putting socks on a rooster, are the equivalent of a bag of Milanos.  So, free Milanos if you just bathed, dressed, brushed teeth & hair, read no less than three books, prayed, got one more drink of water, one more kiss, and had to paddle some bottoms and knock some heads together.



Now, according to my calculations this is where you are really dropping the ball. The following errands with young children should be among your points expenditures:

Dentist, pediatrician, haircuts, pharmacy, bank, taking lunch and forgotten items to a kid at their school, assemblies and other school programs, library toddler time, the post office, and I can’t believe you missed this one…

The grocery store.   The caloric expenditure of grocery shopping has nothing on a Zumbathon. And can we talk about Walmart?  With toddlers? On a Saturday? Why are you not giving us points for this?  If it is merely an oversight I can understand, but this seems like you are not paying attention to the needs of your customers.tantrum

The Vet?  Have you ever taken a sick chicken to the vet?  With four crying children?  Children literally screaming, “My chicken! Please save my chicken? Jesus! Spare our chicken, take me instead!” This should have an assigned points value.  Otherwise, you just aren’t hearing the needs of your subscribers.




mom and gymAnd granted, you give out points for working out at the gym, but what about just getting to the gym.  By the time, I get the babies in the car, out of the car, and into the gym nursery?  I need something to get me onto the elliptical.  I feel like you are miscalculating this in aggressive form, frankly it seems a little malicious.



And what about church?  Have you even considered this?  From the time I get my pantyhose on, which is a major feat in and of itself, six people dressed and out the door, through a sermon and Sunday school, and back out of my pantyhose – this is basically the equivalent of an Iron Man competition. And I do not see this in the activities section? And I have looked. I missed an entire sermon scrolling to find this so that I could have a margarita with my Sunday lunch.  This is a double whammy; it cost me physically and spiritually.  You don’t want to be responsible for this bad ju-ju, just fork over the free margarita, I have earned it.mar


teen having tantrum

And, I am more than willing to be the guinea pig for a body bug to figure out the expenditures for shoe shopping with a 13-year-old girl.  This is something we need credit for. One time while shoe shopping with my tween, mall security was called.  I was put in mall jail.  Mall.  Jail.  Really?  I think this warrants a point or two, don’t you?

And speaking of teen girls, a bad break up?  Points. We have earned them.

I won’t get into dance recitals, play rehearsals, or sporting events.  Common sense denotes you guys are already working on this…

Oil change, tire rotation, and all other auto related events where mom is trapped in Pep Boys waiting room?  Work with me… and we all win.


You recommend cooking low point dinners?  Ok, what do I get in return? I have no less than three people screaming at me. I have a kid on each hip, and I am fighting with a 17-year-old man-child about how you say spaghetti squash tastes just like real spaghetti?  This doesn’t warrant a ZERO point glass of wine?
crying-womanAnd I think crying uncontrollably in my car should count for something… A point for every ten minutes maybe?  Or maybe we could earn some donuts?  Something? Throw us a pastry or snickers here. At the core of the points system, is the human psyche to win or lose points.  If I am this hysterical, I need something in return.

sleepAND!  What about trying to keep a toddler awake on a drive home? One time, driving home from the post office, I pulled at hamstring attempting to keep the babies awake!  This should count for something. Potty training? Moms of multiples?  Two story home-owners?  You have housework but, that has nothing on laundry for eight people in a two-story home, with three toddlers, while crying? (Me, not them.)  It’s just not enough to count that as “daily routine.”


Also, I think you should include another expenditure section for teachers, nurses, and missionaries.  I can’t speak to their calculations, but I feel certain there’s a caloric deficit being heartily ignored.

If you could go ahead and approve the above list right away and get back to me, I should be a size four by Christmas.

Y’all are doing a great job. I am sure these were just slight oversights by your scientists.  Let me know if you need any moms to answer any questions for you!  God bless you in your good works!

*results not typical please see your physician for prescription Xanax before attempting any changes to your diet or exercise regime and have any number of children. Also, consider throwing away your scale and accepting failure as an excellent option.

May your floors be sticky and your calling ordained. Love, Jami

Commit to the LORD whatever you do, and HE will establish your plans.  Proverbs 16:34

Reading this.. again.

click to see on Amazon

Click to see on Amazon

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