Category Archives: Funnies

Abundance Messes

I had the pleasure of laughing until my face hurt yesterday at the tale of some little boys, a new kitchen faucet that spins 360 degrees, and a pregnant mom hustling around getting ready for a doctor appt.  It’s not my story to tell, but after I could breathe again, she asked me what it really looks like when my crazy people do crazy things.  She thought, “Danielle would probably laugh and snap a picture.”

On my best days, yes, that is what I do; and I have plenty of pictures. But for every captioned picture, I’ve probably had another mess that I handled with frustration, tears, and self-pity.  So, I gave her a few thoughts about eyes of faith that look to wield weakness into strength, told her that we try to discipline for the disobedience, not for the mess, but I really just wanted to read her a blog post that I read a few weeks ago, that has been a great help to me:  The Oxen Are In by the Rachel Jankovic.  If you’re struggling with the mess in your home and your people who are making it, read it.  I couldn’t say it better myself.


Mayhem, Thy Name is Jack


In the last week Jack has:

Painted himself with whiteout, including his tongue which warranted a call to poison control. (I didn’t even know we had whiteout).

Painted himself with pink nail polish. (I did know we had that in abundance).

Painted the wall with the same pink nail polish.

Painted himself with craft paint and fabric dye.

I think he thinks he’s some sort of warrior…

He has:

Gorged himself on tooth paste while relaxing in the bathroom sink.

Mistaken his baby sister’s face for a drum.

Mistaken his older sister’s bottom for a pastry.

Made a china plate into a frisbee from the kitchen counter.

Stolen the sprinkles from the sprinkle jar.  (Who me? Yes you. You’re stuck and you’ve left a trail, Hansel.)

And lest you think I haven’t tried to contain him, he has:

Tipped himself over in his high chair.

Scaled every gate.

Masterminded  every lock on every door in the house.

My eyes see a mess, faith sees creativity. My eyes see chaos , faith sees ambition.  My eyes see exhaustion, faith sees zeal. My eyes see sin, faith sees repentance.  May the Lord give me more faith.

Kid Comics


An oldie but a goodie.

Kids really do say the darnedest things.  At least they do in this house.  Since I’m always being admonished to write them down, I figure I might as well start sharing the laughs with you.  Hope you enjoy these little snippets of some silly Spencers:

1. “Does Pastor Kevin live at church?” – Lucy

2. 3 little girls’ ear piercing shrieks: “DADDY’S HOME!!!”  (Silence) Kate: “Oh, never mind, it’s just the mail people.”

3. ” Lord, thank you that we keep finding money.” – Kate

4.”Lord, help people to believe in you. (And not in a way that’s like, oh sure, just add him to the pot)” -Maggie

5. Lucy:  “Mom, do you ever dream that Lucy Talitha is wearing a beautiful dress with sandwiches and chocolate milk?”
Me: “No.  Do you?”  Lucy (dreamily): “Yeah.”

6. “Haha!  My bottom keeps burping!” -Lucy

Elephants Might Not Forget, But Pregnant Women Do“…research has shown that pregnant women actually do just as well in cognitive tests as women who aren’t pregnant… Interestingly, in a different study, pregnant women rated themselves as having performed worse than they would have before pregnancy, even though they tested just as well as a group that wasn’t pregnant. So if you think you’re flakier than usual while you’re pregnant, it may just be your perception.” – from an article on

I suppose I might be able to get a decent score on the ACT (MIGHT); but I don’t know how else to define paying at the drive-thru window then driving away without stopping to pick up the food, other than “flakier than usual.”   Or how about the 10 times a day that I walk into a room for a purpose, then spin around wondering why I just huffed and puffed up the stairs.  I find kitchen utensils in the bathroom (that one may be the kids) and open diet coke cans in closets.  Research might not be able to explain why I can’t remember what I was going to write about today, but I’ll claim pregnancy brain anyway 🙂

Dutch Men Experience Labor Contractions

Two things I knew nothing about until my adulthood:  Having babies and Dutch people.  I am now well acquainted with both.  Which may be why I think this little video is so absolutely hilarious (especially after about the 4.5 min mark):

Babies Come Out One Way or Another

Warning: This post will probably be of little interest to some maybe even gross (I’ve lost my ability to assess that category from a normal perspective).  But some of you may find it helpful and it’s on my mind, so take it or leave it.

I’m actually considering (gulp) going without an epidural, on purpose this time.  Last time the anesthesiologist was delayed; and by the time she arrived I couldn’t hold still long enough for her to stick a needle in my spine.  She only needed “3 minutes,” that’s when Chris looked at my face and the 3 sterile kits I’d already knocked on the floor, and asserted for me that it was not going to happen.  To make matters worse, Jack turned out to be sunny-side-up, which increased the length and intensity of my labor significantly.  I really thought I was going to die.  The nurse was nice enough to lie and told me that everyone says that.

After it was all over, and I was still alive, the little twist I didn’t anticipate was that I only took a few Motrin afterward and felt back to normal very quickly.  My blood pressure didn’t plummet and I ate a cheeseburger while I was still in the delivery room.  I’ve been induced, had a spontaneous preemie, a c-section, a vbac, and gone completely without drugs (though unanticipated).  In my limited, yet diverse experiences, I have to say the recovery was by far the best with the drug free labor.  All this history to explain why I’ve been peeking around on the web to learn if there really are any helpful tips to coping with the curse besides the blessed gift of the epidural.

While I have run across a few helpful tidbits, I’m mostly impressed by the passionate defensiveness of Mommy’s right to her birth plan.  To be honest, it gives me the giggles.  I picture women pulling up to the hospital drive-thru with their order, “I’ll take a 2 hour latent phase with a Popsicle, an epidural while contractions are slightly painful but 5 minutes apart, I’d like some soothing music just before it’s time to push, oh and no tearing because I’ve been massaging for 5 weeks, and last I’d like to keep my placenta for the scrapbook.”

Obviously I’m exaggerating (and amusing myself).  I really don’t have a problem with planning ahead and imagining an ideal.  The problem I see, from personal experience, is that unprioritized ideals can quickly become idols.  And idols will rob you of joy and purpose.  Unlike McDonald’s, if you’re order doesn’t come out how you wanted, you can’t take it back.  The joy of having the baby is not primarily to have a wonderful birthing experience.  It is the privilege of raising another human being to glorify God and enjoy him forever.  As surely as that baby will come out, that baby will depend on you for life, authority, love, and learning until death parts you.  It seems to me that planning for the greater task at hand would be a better use of our time and energy and in the end a far more fruitful endeavor.

Abundance Overload

Pastor Ben mentioned this scene tonight in his sermon to illustrate the abundance God has planned for us in Christ (minus the grumpy boss).  I got the giggles in church just thinking about it.  Hope your next few days are this stuffed with blessing 🙂

Days Like This

Crocheting turned Ninja training camp…

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A Salla Story

A Salla Story
by Beppie Spencer (age 3)

Once upon a time there lived 3 little penguins.  Then there was a shark floating in the water and tried to eat them, but a fish  cameand fighted with the shark and tried to eat the penguins, but they got away.

Then a nice polar bear helped them cross the sticky river.  He likes sticky.  An alligator ate their boat.  So they couldn’t live on the boat anymore and they had to build another one.  But first they had to go across a bubble gum river.  There were some sticky fishes in it and sticky sharks in it and sticky alligators in it.

They heard a little girl say “Help! Help!”  Then there was a princess named, Me.  The princess saved the little girl with a rope and then went across the sticky sticks.  And then the sticky bubble gum.   And then my story’s over.

No Hope This Time

Proving she is out of touch with reality, Beppie again looking over my shoulder while I look for Kipper on amazon instant video on my “lamptomp”: “Mommy! That’s you when you’re a mermaid”