Just Life Archives - Page 4 of 13

Pneumonia? Are You Serious?

Posted on June 5, 2012 by Hannah Davis

So, I have pneumonia. Which is dumb.

I had a fever for a few days and finally dragged myself into Urgent Care. With two kids in tow. You can imagine the fun.

I mean, I probably shouldn’t have even been driving with a fever that high. So I was only capable of mildly fussing at my small people as they sprawled all over the exam room floor (Yes, I know that’s disgusting. I felt disgusted inside, but I didn’t have the energy to figure out a solution.)

The doctor asked if I’d taken anything for my fever, which I hadn’t because I wanted him to see just how high it was.

“Can I give you some Ibuprofen, super high dose?” he asked. (Yes. Yes you can. It’s not like I’m enjoying this fever here.)

Then he told me about the meds he was going to give me for my pneumonia. He said they were a VERY high dosage, but he’d almost always seen them work up until now. He was sure that in the future, they wouldn’t work because the viruses would develop immunity to them. But for now they’d probably work. (That’s encouraging. I think.)

But if they don’t work in two days, I need to go to the ER. (Yay me!)

And then he gave me all the cautions about the meds. He said, “Now, don’t exercise while taking these.”

Even in my semi-delirious state, I laughed and assured him I wouldn’t be doing any exercising. Exercising? I’ve barely been out of bed for the past few days.

And Isaiah, who had already been talking the whole time the doctor talked, at that point said, “Yeah, my mommy doesn’t exercise.” (Thanks, Son.)

So, now I’m medicated and resting and staying hydrated, but not with anything dairy, because my super high-dosage pills don’t like dairy.

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Brain. Tired. Can’t. Write.

Posted on May 17, 2012 by Hannah Davis

I miss my blog.

I miss saying funnyish things. I miss writing snarky irony, and then toning it down a bit so I won’t shock you all.

But my brain is just too tired.

I mean, it turns out starting a church can keep you pretty busy. And then I’ve been doing some freelance writing. Where people pay me dollars to write words.

So all my brain energy has been spent on plotting and scheming for the Kingdom of God and selling my artistic soul for corporate materialism.

(Kidding. I’ve actually been writing for some really cool people. And I now know things about cranes and lawyers and veterinary medicine. Things that I never knew before.)

But I think someday I’ll write just for me again. You know, when life slows down…

See you in 10 years.

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Minivan of My Sorrow

Posted on March 21, 2012 by Hannah Davis

Oh minivan, I beseech you. Do not drive slowly. Do not go 24 in a 35 zone. Though you are rusty and painted an undesirable color, I’m sure you’re still able to drive at the same speed as the rest of us.

When the light is green, do not slow down at an intersection. It makes me almost hit you.

Do you creep through intersections in case another vehicle runs the red light? Because it is highly unlikely and you just make all the drivers behind you mad. Even if someone did run a red, slowing down probably won’t keep you from getting hit. You’ll just be smushed AND hated by the cars following you.

Besides, I can see by your numerous dents, that you have been hit many times before. I’m sure this is because you were enraging the drivers around you.

Slow minivan, you give all minivans a bad name. I see minivans and I think, “Don’t drive behind them. They will be slow.” What about the nice soccer mom, trying to get her kids to practice? You shame her, with your slow driving.

If I ever needed a minivan, I would not buy a minivan. Because minivans drive slow and I do not want to go slow.

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Purse Problems

Posted on March 13, 2012 by Hannah Davis

I’ve got an empty ache.

It’s restless, angsty feeling that keeps nagging.

I need a new purse.

I mean, I like my current purse. I do. But things about it are starting to bother me.

It slides off my shoulder at all the wrong moments (like while I’m holding a cup of coffee). And when it does bother to say on my shoulder, it’s just deep enough that my fingers don’t quite reach the bottom. The strap has a buckle on it that keeps catching my hair and pulling it, which I think is just mean. And as much as I love how big it is, I honestly can’t ever find anything. At all.

The problem is, I don’t know what kind of purse I want. So I can’t just go buy a new one. Because purses are very particular.

It has to be big, so that I can carry my kids’ McDonalds toys and extra packs of fruit snacks. And my husband’s keys. And water bottles. And my son’s DS and a notepad for Leah to draw in. So… big.

But it can’t be as big as the current one I have.

It needs just the right size pocket on the inside, to hold my cell phone (So I don’t lose it in the bottom with the pens and receipts and candy the kids collected at the St. Patrick’s parade). And another pocket to hold my keys, or I’ll lose them too.

And it has to not look like a mom-purse. I may be 30 and a mom, but I sure don’t have to advertise it with my purse.

It must be a color that goes with EVERYTHING. Because that whole, “match your purse to your outfit” thing? That doesn’t happen for me. I’m usually flying out of the house 5 minutes after I was supposed to have the kids at school. So changing bags to coordinate with my shoes isn’t a high priority.

It’s so hard, people. So hard to solve.

Hence, I’m left here longing for something, but not knowing what that something is. And until I discover it, I’ll just go on feeling angsty and unsettled.

If you work it, there’s probably a spiritual application right there. But really, I just want a new purse.

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The Skinny Mirror

Posted on January 19, 2012 by Hannah Davis

My friend came out of my bathroom one day and announced, “You have a skinny mirror.”

I was confused. Because it’s actually a really wide mirror. So she had to explain, “It makes you LOOK skinny.” And my friend seemed to think this was a good thing.

But it had me worried. Because I’d been looking in that mirror for a year and a half and feeling pretty good about myself.

I mean, yeah, some of my jeans were getting kind of tight. But I looked OK. So you can see how deceptive a skinny mirror is.

I decided to ignore my mirror and listen to my jeans. And then I pulled out a crazy thing called a scale. Boy, that guy doesn’t mince words.

My scale has me convinced to count my calories and my carbs and how much candy I eat. There is actually a piece and a half of cheesecake in my fridge. It’s been there ALL DAY and I haven’t eaten it. So I think things are going pretty well.

I just hope my scale starts saying nicer things to me, or I’m going back to my skinny mirror.

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The Santa Claus Conspiracy

Posted on December 19, 2011 by Hannah Davis

Once a week, I volunteer in my son’s 2nd grade class at school. Most of the time, the kids just read with me. However, once in a while they end up sharing their own stories.

Last week, one of the little girls told me she recently heard jingle bells. So she looked out of her mailbox slot and saw Santa and his reindeer flying. “Maybe,” she said, “he was practicing.”

But he did drop off some packages at her house on his practice run, and they are still there.

She explained that sometimes Santa lies a little bit and writes, “From Mom and Dad” on gifts, because he doesn’t want kids to think the packages are from him. But they really are.

I have never, ever heard this theory before and find it very intriguing. It’s not parents who try to convince their children to believe in Santa. Rather, it is Santa who wants children to believe in their parents. Interesting.

This smart little girl also firmly believes in the tooth fairy and has a plan to save up 3 teeth to trick the fairy out of $3 all at once.

(If you’re curious about why my kids think about Santa, read The Truth About Santa and Spider Man)

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Jesus, and What He Apparently Thinks About Social Media

Posted on December 15, 2011 by Hannah Davis

Last Sunday, Chris preached at a friend’s church about the God Who Came Near.

I feel like He came near to me today. In the line at the post office, while I was reading Twitter.

I mean, it wasn’t an earth-shattering moment. I didn’t fall on the floor, speaking in tongues. (Thank goodness. That would have been awkward.) It wasn’t even a specific tweet that caught my eye.

But somehow, as I read my twitter stream, I felt the Lord come near and grow my heart for Him. He stretched my understanding of His nature. By His grace, He allowed me to gain a deeper wonder for aspects of His character that my humanity isn’t inclined to “like.”

There are so many paradoxes in that experience. I wasn’t doing anything “Christian-y.” I was using social media, which isn’t considered spiritual. I was mailing a Christmas package, which could be viewed as commercialism. And Jesus met me.

And that’s so spiritual. Because Jesus wants to encounter our hearts in the mundane. He isn’t afraid of social media or the commercialization of Christmas. He’s so much bigger than that.

I kind of feel like we shouldn’t fight and kick and rail against “non-spiritual” aspects of life. Rather, embrace them as opportunities to meet with Jesus. You never know where He might show up. Maybe at the post office.

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Hannah Calls 911

Posted on November 30, 2011 by Hannah Davis

I’m not panicky, you know? I don’t worry about little stuff.

So when I call 911, I mean it. (Actually, I’ve never called before today. So.)

I was folding laundry and watching a movie and smelling smoke. And I just thought, “Gr. My neighbors are smoking something weird.”

But when I walked into my living room and could actually SEE smoke, I kind of realized that even they couldn’t smoke that much.

So I went downstairs to the foyer/laundry room that is on my neighbors’ level of the house. And the foyer was filled with smoke. This is where I panicked.

Did I call 911? No. I called my husband. Obviously.

And he told me to call 911.

The emergency lady was very nice and calm. She asked my address and my phone number and my name. And told me to get out of the house. OK, that part? Not so calm.

So here is the dilemma we all theorize about: “If your house were on fire, what would you grab?” I don’t have to guess. I know.

1.) Both laptops
2.) The iPad
3.) My purse
4.) The external hard drive (full of family pictures)
5.) Mee-Mee and the ‘Lankies (my kids’ lovies)

Oh. And the dog. I grabbed the dog.

I put my basket full of the important things in life (except the dog) in the back of the Jeep. That way if the “fire” turned out to be something silly, I wouldn’t be embarrassed by having my treasured possessions unnecessarily clutched to my chest.

And then I knocked on my downstairs neighbors’ door. Just to see if maybe they WERE smoking something. No answer. Which kind of freaked me out with visions of them dying from smoke inhalation in there.

The fire department arrived about this time. Two big fire trucks, complete with sirens. And there were firemen crawling all over the place. Firemen in my laundry room. Firemen in my house. Firemen in my neighbors’ house (they didn’t answer the door to me, but they sure did for the fireman!). Firemen in the crawl space under the house.

And do you know what the firemen determined? The washing machine’s motor burnt out.

They said, “Whoever was doing laundry in here, I think it’s done.” Yes. I had the fire department out to tell me that my laundry was finished.

But they were super nice. They didn’t think I was an idiot. The guys that had arrived first told another fireman that the room had been filled with smoke when they came (meaning I wasn’t crazy). And they assured me that it was better safe than sorry. And that it could have caught the laundry on fire and then moved on to the wall (again, I wasn’t crazy).

They did, however, laugh at me for taking a picture of them. But hey. You don’t have the fire department out every day.

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Crazy Clothes

Posted on November 17, 2011 by Hannah Davis

Do you ever buy crazy clothes? Obviously crazy is different for everyone, but I think we have all purchased something that stretched us in the fashion area. Whether that item ever gets worn or not says a lot about our character. (I have no idea what it says, but I’m sure it’s significant.)

So I had a thrift store find that was hanging in my closet for awhile. I loved it. But that blouse was not boring. I couldn’t wear it and expect to blend into the crowd. And sometimes, I like to not stand out like a sore thumb.

But we had a pretty fall day, which was just what the shirt needed for an outing. I put it on and it really was great. And it really was not subtle. I was a little hesitant.

When I brought the kids home from school, Leah took one look at my blouse and exclaimed, “Mommy! Your shirt is beautiful!

And somehow, I found that comforting. It’s not that Leah has great fashion sense, because she is convinced that sparkly red shoes match everything. And that a flowered skirt should definitely be paired with a top striped in purple poodles.

But you know, sometimes you just need an encouraging word. You need someone to take your side, even when you’re a bit crazy. You need a friend who tells you, “go for it!”

And my Leah is great at that. She never hesitates to encourage. I can learn a lot from that girl.

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Blame It On Homeschool

Posted on November 8, 2011 by Hannah Davis

I’ve come to this point in my life where I need something to blame.

I mean, I’m almost 30, so I can’t blame my issues on the fact that I’m young. I can’t say, “Oh, I’m just a kid, so I don’t know how things are done.” People just aren’t buying it anymore.

And I can’t blame it on lack of awareness of the culture. You know, like, “Oh, we just moved here, so I had no idea.” Because we’ve moved like a bajillion times, and really every place is the same. They all want you to pay taxes and get your car registered and that stuff.

I can’t blame it on my kids. I can’t use the excuse, “Oh, I’m not going to make it. You know, with little kids, it’s just so hard.” My kids are both in school and they don’t really tie me down much.

So yes. I need something new to blame. And I’ve got a great one.

I’ll blame it on being homeschooled!

I was “schooled at home” from Kindergarten through my senior year of high school. So you know I’m a total FREAK of nature. I might as well cash in on that. For real.

Whenever I can’t pull it together, from now on I’m going to explain, “Oh sorry. I was homeschooled, you know.” If I have an etiquette faux pas, I’ll say, “I was homeschooled, so I wasn’t sure what was appropriate in this instance.” When I can’t remember what year the Revolutionary War was or how many States are in the Union, I’ll just blurt out, “Homeschooler, right here!”

I could even use it for stuff that’s non-homeschool related, because most of the adult population was not homeschooled. They have no idea the reason I’m unable to light a pilot light has NOTHING to do with my elementary education.

It will take a little bit for me to settle into this new excuse pattern, because most homeschooled kids spend their formative years trying to NOT act like a “homeschooler.” So to boldly blurt the secret out at every opportunity is going to be foreign to me. But I think I can adapt. I learned how to do that in homeschool.

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