The Mastermind

Hey everybody! Sorry it's been a couple of days. The kids and I are in Nashville, TN, for the present, and really enjoying ourselves! It's so funny...sometimes when I come to Nashville, I can't wait to see everyone: old friends, extended family, people from my old church, etc., but sometimes when I come, I feel the strong need to hide out. This is one such trip. It is strange to me why I feel that way sometimes and at other times exactly the opposite. Curiouser and curiouser. Anyways, the kids, as always, are having a blast. And really I am too. Tonight, we're celebrating my 30th birthday...gasp, although really my birthday is coming up on Tuesday. Cheesecake Factory, here we come!

So, periodically I'm focusing blogs on specific people, and today is one of those days. I feel the need to tell you about Kenny, my husband. Maybe it's because I'm really missing him right now, but he's been on my mind loads, so I thought I'd write about him. Here goes:

Kenny and I are Myers Briggs freaks, so I'll start by saying he's a consumate INTJ. In psychobabble, that means Introverted, iNtuitive, Thinking, and Judging. All clear now? I thought not! The 'I' means he prefers to have a small, extremely close-knit group of friends than to be in a large crowd. It does NOT mean he's shy. The 'N' means he's a visionary. A brainstormer. However, he's borderline on this, so he dwells in 's' a lot too, which is being detail-oriented. The 'T' means that thoughts and facts guide his decisions more than emotions. The 'J' means he's more structured than spontaneous. He's NOT borderline on the 'J'! If you look up the 'INTJ' in "Please Understand Me II" (our collective favorite book), you'll find that the title for INTJ is "Mastermind." Oh, yeah! That's my husband! He's a Mastermind!! Basically, the Mastermind is a person who ought to be a military general. The world is a chessboard. He can contingency plan better than any other group on the planet. "If we do a, then here's what b will look like. However,if we do c, then here's what will happen." (But a hundred steps further...) Kenny can look at any system, be it industrial, mechanical, communicative, emotional, financial, whatever else, and immediately tell how to make it better and more efficient. If you own a business, you NEED my husband! (He's actually gainfully employed as a helicopter pilot, so that was not a plug for a job!) Kenny is a man who does not make wrong steps. He's a Midas. I'm astonished at how it seems that everything he does just turns to gold. He's just brilliant. Although he'd never want you to know that. (You can imagine what a pain this whole Midas-thing is when I'm trying to beat him at a board game.) This brings me to another thing about the 'Mastermind.' He's a reluctant leader. "Please Understand Me" says that the Mastermind will wait on the sidelines until all the other leaders prove to be inept, and then the Mastermind will come in and fix things. This is Kenny exactly. He does not crave being a leader. Quite the opposite. And this is why he is, in fact, a truly amazing leader. As his wife, I have had the privilege of watching person after person recognize that Kenny is special. Wherever he goes, whatever he does, he seems to end up in charge. His bosses can't help but notice how capable he is. He has a brilliant mind, and a well-controlled tongue. Sometimes, it can be intimidating to think what it is that Kenny really needs me for. He seems so well-rounded. And brilliant. But I think he needs my spontaneity. He needs my emotionalism, although he may have the inclination to eschew it every so often! He needs my ability to mix in a crowd. Also, his leadership style is a 'visionary', according to "Please Understand Me," and mine is a 'catalyst.' The best Visionary in the world might not actually DO anything without a Catalyst. But, together we CAN do anything we set our minds to! So, I'm grateful for my brilliant, humble, quick-thinking, chessboard-seeing, buff, handsome, football-loving, contingency-planning husband Kenny. And I'm grateful that he still needs me. I love you, honey. Talk to you all soon!

The Fall

So, the other day was going well. Seriously. Until. Let me preface this by saying that Archie (our two, nearly three-year-old) is in the throws of potty training. It's been sort of hit or miss, but lately we've had more hits than misses, for which I'm exceedingly grateful. However, after said hits, it sometimes takes a while to get the undies back on. He hasn't figured out how to do this himself, and to be honest, I'm not always aware he's even 'gone potty', so it may take me a while to realize he's in his birthday suit (his favorite outfit!) The other day was just that sort of day. Busy. So, I was in Abby's room helping her tidy up (a continual need for her room), and I'm sitting on the floor helping her stuff clothes into her already full dresser. Archie and Kale were playing on her bed, and I wasn't really paying close attention to them. Focusing on Abby, yeah? I decided that I needed to check on the boys, so I sat up on my knees to peer over the bed at them. As I rise, I realize that Archie is standing on the bed. (This is all in slo-mo.) As I rise further, I realize that he must have gone potty, because he's completely, 100% naked from the waist down. Finally, as I reach full sitting-on-the-knees status, I realize that he's falling. Towards me. It happened in a flash. Before I could react...you guessed it. I had a naked two-year-old sitting square on my face. AAAAHHHHHGHHHGHGHGHH!! And more AAAAGHGHGHHGHHHHHHHHHH!! What did I learn? First, that it's probably best not to let kids play on the bed, especially naked. Second, that underwear is a priority. Period. Talk to you soon!

Part Dieux

As Kenny and I lay in bed last night, tucked in and happy as clams, we thought we were settled down for a peaceful evening of slumber. It sounded so nice! At first, we didn't notice anything was wrong. Suddenly, Kenny JUMPED out of bed yelling, "Not again! No!!!" What?! You may have guessed it. It was Flyzilla, returning to challenge us to a duel. A fight to the death. He soared at my head, his wings all abuzz, and dive-bombed my lamp. Kenny, in graceful fighting motions, was swooping around the room with a towel (why, exactly don't we keep the flyswatter in there?) trying to get an exact GPS coordinate on Flyzilla's location. It was a tense moment. And then another. For several minutes (okay, maybe seconds), we saw no sign of our attacker. Then, out of nowhere, there he was! (On MY side, of course. Go figure.) Just as Kenny raised he towel for the death blow, Flyzilla magically replicated. In unison, we screamed, "There are two of them!!! Aahghhgh!" (That's a direct quote.) They performed a perfect 'kiss off' (pilot lingo for when you, on signal, turn a fast 180 degrees from each other, thereby going in exactly opposite directions.) It was a perfect diversionary tactic! We didn't know which fly to follow! Flyzilla, props to you! However, 'Zilla 2' was less experienced than 'Zilla 1', and he came back around. Kenny got him with one fell swoop! Suddenly angered by his compatriot's demise, Zilla 1 came in for the kill. It all happened in a blur. Kenny struck. Zilla 1 struck. Both went down to the ground. Well, not really. Kenny stayed on his feet. And the truth about Zilla 1 is, he simply disappeared. We couldn't find him anywhere, nor could we hear any buzzing. This legendary night may soon appear in books with titles such as, "10 Greatest Disappearances in History", or "Greatest Insect Feats of All Time!" Only time will tell what became of Flyzilla. Perhaps he has moved to a more worthy battle line. We wish him our best.

Marsha, Marsha, Marsha!!

So, I had this awesome dream last night about one of my good friends, Marsha. Kenny and I met Marsha and her husband Jeremy when we lived in North Carolina. At our last Marine Corps Birthday Ball (we didn't know it was our last...incidentally, you should ALL get a marine to take you to the ball...they are so fun!!) we were eating our dinner happily, when Kenny pipes up, "Hey Angie! Do you see that navy guy over there? He went to Harding!" What?! Now, you must understand that we lived in a town in NC that was essentially without a church of Christ. In fact, the only strong contingents of christians were Baptists and Episcopalians. (Did I even spell that right?) So, to meet another church of Christ-er, let alone one from Harding, is pretty remarkable! Of course, I got way excited. Going to church an hour away from home means that during the week you don't have a lot of spiritual friends around you. That gets a little lonely. Oh, you can go out with friends, and I frequently did, but it sometimes felt like there was a part of me they didn't get. I don't like that feeling. So, to see Harding people held very exciting potential!! We went up to Jeremy, who introduced me to Marsha, and the rest is history! Now, you should know that Marsha is my alter ego. Seriously! She's my Tawanda! (Or whatever that lady's name was in Fried Green Tomatoes.) When I need to up my confidence level, get a little sassy, or learn to be bold, I go to Marsha! She's a red-headed spitfire, in the best sort of way! She's a pep talk, another pep talk, a bear hug, and an "I-got-your-back-so-let's-fight-'em!" all rolled into one. She's what I'm lacking when I sometimes need it most. She's a strong, beautiful woman, and I'm so grateful she's my friend! So, in my dream, we were giggling and throwing brown and red ceramic plates down a flight of stares...I'm not sure why...and then we were doing summersaults down the stairs. Ouch! But we were having so much fun!! I woke up feeling like I had had a brain massage because I got to spend a couple of hours with my friend Marsha. Then I had the let-down of realizing that it wasn't real. So, I think I'll call Marsha now...

Mr. Helpful

So, last night was Parents' Night Out at church...three cheers for free babysitting!!! Yeah!! It started at 5:30 (which I didn't realize until 5:15) and ran all the way until 9:00. Well, Kenny was on days yesterday. (He has a very interesting and complex schedule. When he's on days, it's a 12 hour shift starting at 6:30 am. If he's on nights, he starts at 6:30 pm.) Since he was on days, I knew he couldn't meet me until about 7:30 pm. But, I thought, "That's okay! I'll go have dinner and coffee at my favorite spot in Searcy...Midnight Oil!!" I took a book (Anne of Avonlea...go ahead...laugh!) with me to read. I've been watching the series on PBS (yeah, with all my free time, ha ha!), and it occurred to me that I really should actually read the books. So, I go in and order a Don Pepperon (if you use your imagination even a little you might guess that this is basically pepperoni and melted cheese on a bagel. Supper of champions.) and a blackberry Italian soda. All was well. For a spell. I sat contentedly reading about Anne and her jersey cow and the Avonlea Village Improvement Society (I TOTALLY think Searcy should have a Village Improvement Society!) Life was bliss. For a few shining moments. After Anne fixed the problem with the jersey cow, I decided it was time for coffee and dessert. Kenny still had about 30 minutes to drive, so I thought that should be just about perfect. It was about 7:10. I go to order. I get a short decaf mocha and a beautiful piece of spoon cake (a cake I've been trying to duplicate for years, without much success. Ergo, I order it any time I can.) In walks an old friend, Rich O'Connell. With his 3rd son, Ben, who is 13 months old. He was so cute!! (Ben, not Rich.) Rich explains Ben's been crying at a restaurant down the street, so he walked with him down to Midnight Oil. (Overachiever! :^) So I hold Ben and pat him on the back, which promptly caused him to throw up...I was like, "Um, I think I figured out your problem..." It was good to see those two, throw up and all. So, by then my mocha and spoon cake were ready. Yum! I sit down with them and call Kenny. He's nearly there!! Yeah! We talk for a few minutes, and I eat about half of the cake. I can't choke down another bite! So, I save it for my honey. Good wife. Score. At 7:30, Kenny's about 10 minutes out. I offer to go ahead and order for him. He's excited about that prospect. I head up to the counter, about to do a great thing for my husband. THINK AGAIN. I'm up there explaining the menu to him, when Mr. Helpful behind the counter pipes in, "Um, we don't serve sandwiches after 7:00." At first, I thought he was joking. Kenny's driven a whole hour in a car that's got only sketchy ac after having worked a 12 hour+ shift, and now he can't get a meal at the place I've waited for him for 2 hours? I kind of grinned at Mr. Helpful. Mr. Helpful grinned back. I said, "Really, please. Come on. It's a sandwich." "No, all the stuff is put away. I simply cannot make you a sandwich." The girl behind the counter pipes in, "She's been here a really long time. Why don't you help her?" "No, I can't do that. Everything's put away. Besides, I did that once and got in trouble." I couldn't believe my ears. I turned around and walked back to my table in a dazed silence. Kenny was driving also in a dazed silence. We were in a collective dazed silence. Really I wanted to tell Mr. Helpful, who was a Harding student, I'm sure, "Clearly you're not a business student. Because if you were a business student, you would know that it is far better to make a customer completely happy with a very slight bend of the rules (especially a rule which is not in place for safety or health concerns), than to tick off a customer (especially one who blogs) in order to get out of 5-minutes' work. Your boss, when I tell him, and I WILL tell him, will be most unpleased with your un-businesslike decision. Way to go. You know, don't change your major...business doesn't suit you." So, these were the possibly mean thoughts floating around in my head. I heard a little voice speaking to me (very quietly) that perhaps I shouldn't say them. Something about my being a christian. I'm not sure. However, I yielded to said voice, asked for a to-go box for my half-eaten cake, and hurried out of there. I'd like to say I won't be back for a while, but I'm pretty sure that's not true. However, I'm NOT tipping Mr. Helpful. Ever. Unless the little voice talks to me again. So, Kenny went through the drive-through at Arby's where he was promptly given the wrong sandwich, and we had an imperfectly perfect evening, which we finished up with a long talk on a swing at Harding's Campus (which I pointed out to Kenny that he need not fear since he's already got the ole' ball and chain. If you went to Harding you'll understand.) So anyways, if you happen to be in Searcy, hungry, and you go to the best coffee shop ever, aka Midnight Oil, make sure you're there early...the food doesn't stay out for long!

Omega Rules!

I'm headed back to Harding (my school!) in the fall to go to nursing school. Okay, so I may not be the most meticulous person around, and I may not have a great urgency towards details, but I've got a really good bedside manner, and I'm decent in an emergency. So, I'm HOPING that I can study really hard to learn all the detailed "meticulosity", and then can just be good at the other stuff later. I've noticed that there is a certain contingent of moms at Harding. You can see them a mile away. They seem to be all alone, carrying a lot of books, and in a hurry. Oh, and they generally don't look 19. (Except I do. In my mind.) So, anyways, I'm a connector at heart. It's what I do. I love to connect people to other people. I love to hook someone up with just the right person...an employer and employee, for example. I love to know tons of people, and I love to visit everyone I know when I travel. I'm just a connector. It's one of my few real talents. (Kenny's talented at everything else, so we have our bases covered!) So, now I'm on a mission! I am going to connect all the single, solitary non-19-looking moms together! We're taking over campus! I was just saying this morning (at swimming lessons) that we should form a social club of our own...we could have jerseys with "O" on them for "Old Fogies!) and if we went greek it could be Omega. But what to call it? Another mom and I were pondering what it should be called, when Kale piped in, "I know! I know! Call it 'Omega Rules!'" We got a good chuckle out of that. That's my Kale...always helpful! So, come take some classes and join the hottest new thing on campus! We may not look like spring chickens, we may not know that latest boy band, and we may not have great gossip or even cool jewelry, but I'll tell you one thing:
OMEGA RULES!!

The Great Rembleski

So, today my old college suitemate, Erin, came over for a visit. This was significant because we: a. haven't seen each other or spoken to each other since freshman year, and, b. she lives in Oregon. I was a little apprehensive...I HATE smalltalk, and I was a little afraid that all we'd have to talk about was smalltalk. So, I was nervous when I went to answer the door. She swept in, and we exchanged the usual pleasantries in the usual ways. I introduced her to the kids, who were SO excited to have the tedium of daily life mitigated by a total stranger, and then we sat at the kitchen table for what was to become a 3-hour conversation. She told me about the last 11 years of her life, and I filled her in on mine. What different paths we have had! The funny thing, though, is that though we've taken different paths, we've walked the same road. She married a great, godly man named Adam. They were, at one point, on a church-planting team, but since felt called to do other things. (Incidentally, we are very close to the parents of one of the other couples on the team.) They moved to Oregon, on faith, with only a small job possibility on the horizon. Well, that job worked out, and they are working hard in a church that needed, well, fresh fire. Erin has always been a spark...I know she and Adam will be amazing with that congregation. I say we've walked the same road because for both of us, it's been a sojourn of self-discovery. We both have learned a lot about what it means to be a dynamic christian. What it means to really love the people around you. The pain that happens when you fall short in those areas. We've both missed people we love and have made many strong relationships along the way. Erin (whose last name used to be Rembleski) and I weren't especially close in college. I thought she was way too cool to want to be good friends! She thought I was dating a freak (she was right), and didn't feel much in common with me, probably. It was such a blessing to sit with her and really form, I think, the beginning of our friendship. We had a common history, but now we have a common bond. Thick water, anyone? I'm grateful for my old (and new) friend Erin, and the journey that God has sent us both on. God is good.