Confessions of a Driveaholoc

As yall know I commute to my offices in Lakeville and Duluth from my home in Sartell, Minnesota.  It's approximately 75 miles (2-2.5 hrs in traffic) to Lakeville and 150 miles (3-3.5 hrs in construction) to Duluth.  I'm past due for my 2nd oil change in the last 3 weeks  and my 2012 Chevy Silverado purchased at the end of June has 18955 miles on it to date------------point being, I drive a lot.  A lot of my driving is between 4 am and 7 am and the rest is in rush hour or after in the evening.  Thanks to Mr. President and his generous 'travel restoration' fund and the fact that the state of Minnesota knows it has exactly two and a half minutes between snow storms to get every single road fixed- I deal with a lot of summer construction and detours WILL most likely be the death of me. 

On the bright side- here are some helpful tidbits I'd like to share about being a driveaholic.

1.  Construction work takes a long time, and no one ever tells you what they're doing.  Two years of one-lane reroutes and not a single explanation.  The only thing they will go out of their way to explain is a "BUMP,"  which is almost always a rediculously small crack in the pavement that you will brace for but never actually experience, meanwhile there's not an orange marker to be found for the pothole that just caused you to spill a full hot cup of coffee on your khakis.  Here's an idea Minnesota: Skip the $600 sign you put up to mark the bump.  Skip the $600 wage you gave the guy in the reflective vest to go install the sign.  Use that $1200 and FIX THE DANG BUMP.

2.  A balloon with a hat on it will suffice for a second person so that you can use the carpool lane, or so the Wisconsin drivers believe.  I will run you over Wisonsin drivers.

3.  Speaking of out-of-staters: to all of you wonderful South Dakotans, I will say this.  Your license plate is very pretty, but if I see it going 68 in the fast lane for 50 miles straight I will sit on your pretty little bumper and give you the evil eye as long as I need to... so I would just go ahead an adjust your rear-view mirror if you don't like the evil eye.  Seriously- move over.  Some of us have places to be.

4.  Semis that drive the same speed side by side blocking traffic should just go ahead and remove the 'how am i driving' 1-800 number from the back of their trucks because I will call and answer that question.

5.  If you have a bumper sticker that says, "I race to win," don't drive a 96 dodge neon with your knees.  Please and thank you.

6.  Listen up guys, because this is very important.  I don't care about any previous success you've had with this in the past- YOU WILL NOT, I REPEAT NOT, GET ME ON A DATE WITH YOU BY HITTING ON ME IN TRAFFIC.  You won't get one anyway because I'm married, but what in the world happened to you this morning to make you think that when you got out of bed and put your seatbelt on in your car you were going to walk away from your commute with a girl?!  There are just too many things wrong with this.
A- You don't know me.  I could be a serial killer.  I could be married with 15 kids.  I could be from a different country.
B- Any self-respecting woman would be completely unimpressed with a guy that thinks a girl that knows absolutely nothing about him (except that he picks girls up in traffic) would go out on a date with him based on solely a pick up line and what he drives.  So if that's the kind of girl you want- be my guest hot-rod.
C-  You have ABSOLUTELY NOT A CLUE IN THE WORLD how big my butt is.  What if the lower half of my body has severe elephantitis and you've gone and asked me out based on my left arm and haircut?  Bad idea.
D-  "Hey baby you're hott do you want to meet me somewhere later" is a terrible pick-up line.  Terrible.

moving on...

7.  The middle finger seems to be the one and only response to being cut off, so be prepared to be flipped off often if you drive a lot.

8.  "I was just trying to escape my need for perfection and have a moment of rebellion" will not get you out of a ticket for not wearing your seat belt, even in a Cub Foods parking lot.

9.  Honking rarely scares white-tail deer, it mostly puts them into shock so they freeze while you're still going 77 mph straight at them.  I suggest swerving or flashing your brights.

It's all I got but hopefully it helps!  Drive safe yall!

The Brazilian Aardvark

I was talking to an old friend and a fellow blogger last night about some of the things that have been happening in the Helmer household and he urged me to keep writing so that I don't forget.  As for why I haven't been writing- I'm working five 16-hour days a week and basically spending my weekends recovering enough to bathe my lifeless body before Monday...I've fallen asleep in the shower twice in the last two weeks.  We are wrapping up our busy season and I moved into ownership in June so it has been insanely insane- but I am thankful to have a good job in this shifty economy.  Speaking of economy, I haven't taken much time to learn the campaigns this election year and yet I woke up this morning with one question in my mind-- Did Obama name Obamacare after himself or was it an aftershock from the republicans?  My ignorance in this campaign is wretched I know but I feel that knowing the answer to this question would say a lot about good ol' hope and change.  I should probably study up.

On to the State of the Helmer Address!  Here's what all yall you need to know------ Charlie Bryan sings NONSTOP and it is HILARIOUS.  I don't know where he learned to sing like he does but he gets this really high-pitched voice going and he takes himself very seriously.  He's committed to learning every action to every Blue's Clues tune and he sounds out most of the melody and echoes as he goes.  When he can't say the word- he goes into lip-sincing, which is equally adorable because the shapes he makes out with his mouth don't at all match little Steve Burns and his jazz hands...my little man is plain cut out for Japanese television.  If you don't know who Steve Burns is . . . you need to take a little walk outside, get yourself a frappacino with java chips, and throw your arms in the air and thank the Lord for this blessing.  I DO NOT LIKE STEVE BURNS.  First of all, Steve is not teaching children... he is depending on them to find his girl dog that looks like a boy.  Secondly, aside from his complete lack of self respect, he has some clinically serious hearing issues.  For example, when the little children yell, "The mail is here!"  and the purple mailbox pops out with his cute little Boston accent, Steve sings his mail song right on Que----HOWEVER--when the children yell, "There's a clue! There's a clue!" (which is the whole stinkin point of the show) Steve goes into a state of complete hearing loss.  "What's that?  My name is Sue?"  "No! A clue a clue!"  "A cow goes Moo??!"  "No!  A clue a clue!"  If I was one of those children I would kick him in the shins, walk off the set, and never look back.  When Charlie turns three- we are done with Blue's Clues...I'm afraid his intelligence will start regressing. 

As you know, Charlie loves animals...LOVES them.  He's had this little spaniel-looking dog since his first birthday and "Doggy" has been part of the family ever since.  About six months ago, I took Charlie garage-saling and his eye caught a playdoh-covered stuffed golden retriever.  "Puppy" has been part of the family ever since.  He's very creative when he names his dearest dogs.  These two sleep tucked in by his head every night, but that's not the end of it.  About a month ago, Andy and I decided we would take him to the Como Zoo in the twin cities thinking that since Charles loves animals he would enjoy seeing some big ones.  Wrong again.  We sat there trying our hardest to get him interested in the monkeys and giraffes and zebras and Charlie couldn't give two hoots or a holler.  We were feeling down about wasting the day when we cut through the gift shop on our way out.  The gift shop was like any other zoo shop- filled with adorable stuffed adorables from the great animal kingdom.  There were fluffy pandas, sweet little seals, soft lambs and we pulled a cute little koala for Charlie to hold, but Charlie wasn't interested in the Koala.  He ran fast as I've ever seen him move and dug out an animal from behind the dolphins.  When he pulled it out, I had to look away.  Andy looked at me and smiled.  After a second of smiling and staring at me he said, "Em.  We can't bring that home."  I just kept looking away.  When I was brave enough I looked back at my darling boy only to see him holding this animal like it was his brand new child.  He set it down on the ground on it's paws oh so gently and then picked it back up on his chest and patted its back.  I could hear him whispering, "Dis Baby, dis Chahyees Baby."  He was completely in love, and this admiration brought "love is blind" to another level of utter blindness. 
This animal was hideous.  I couldn't tell what it was, but it was partially striped, and it was mostly carrot-poop orange and normal-poop brown.  It had a pointy nose and short fat legs with wiry little claws. 
I'm here to tell you that after an extensive google search we have learned that "Baby" is none other than a true Brazilian Aardvark and "Baby" is now just as important as Doggy and Puppy in this family.  He is Charlie's baby and he protects him as I suppose the mommy Brazilian Aardvark would.  He took him gently to daycare one day where he tried to share his bundle of joy with Bradley, a three year old.  Bradley preceded to take Baby by the neck and shake him angrily like one of the alcoholic fathers from Friday Night Lights.  Bradley then dropped Baby to the ground and gave his best kick- Baby went flying across the room.  My poor Charlie dropped to his little knees, mouth gaping and tears flowing freely down his cheeks.  He sat there in shock until he could gather his strength enough to go check on Baby.  He picked him up, kissed his nose, and brought him back to me.  He placed Baby safely in my care and said with a lump in his throat, "Mommy, dis Baby.  Baby home." Then he turned slowly and walked away. 
My heart broke and I too felt deep sadness for what both my baby as well as Charlie's Baby had just experienced.  Baby is resting comfortably at home and the doctors have labeled him stable.  We hope for a clean bill of health by the end of the week.  Charlie hasn't left his side.
My boy's a lover, what can I say?

A Thunderous God with a Still Small Voice

Let me tell You!  This week I have been ridiculously busy.  We had hail hit in three different cities in my state which means I spent more time on a roof than I did in my bed.  Charlie has been acting like he's stinkin Paris Hilton- how DARE I place his juice cup on the cork coaster instead of the ceramic one!  And on top of this, my husband left town to be with some friends in Iowa for five days (which he never does so I'm happy for him.......really....I am :) . So you see God, this is why I didn't get to my devotions every day this week!  Sometimes, I find that I get too comfy with the Almighty Creator of the universe.     I dangerously mistake his new mercies every morning for a man in the sky with selective Alzheimer's.  I treat him like I treat my boss, like He doesn't really know what's going on or that I'm screening His calls.  I think to myself, Jesus is loving, He is kind and understanding, He is such an intimate Friend that sometimes, a lot of times, I forget how BIG God is.

I play piano and sing for the worship team at church and we had our weekly practice the other night- the songs were great, but I found myself going through the motions and praying that our ending prayer would finish quicker than it was.  Sue, my dear friend and fellow worship leader, was praying for the other leader and for my week.  Sue's gift is compassion, unfortunately mine is not.  But I really do want to work on that....really....I do.
Anyway, I come home and decided to try and nail down a few tricky parts on one of the songs with more accidentals than normal notes and I come up with a beautiful melody line that I think would make a great new song.  Normally when I get distracted like this, it's at least worth it as I can write very quickly and the lyrics come to me as the melody does.  The lyrics started coming, but the hypocrisy tasted like blueberries dipped in horseradish coming out of my mouth.  "All that I am, All that I want to be, is to know you more Jesus, to live so the world will see."  I couldn't put my finger on the problem, so I wrote it off as bad creativity and called it a night.

That night I'm comfortably sound asleep, the kind of asleep where the house burns around you and you go peacefully and warmly into heaven, when all the sudden the loudest noise I've ever heard shot me out of my bed and landed me beside it on my knees completely terrified.  My first thought was that the cement factory across the frontage road had somehow exploded and the mushroom cloud (from cement??? I was apparently very tired) would come barreling through the windows at any moment.  Once my thoughts collected, I realized it was thunder.  I did not know thunder could be this loud, and the stranger thing was that there was no lightning flashes or rain I could hear after the crash.  My second thought, following the impending mushroom cloud, was that someone needed my attention.  Here I was on my knees, in sheer terror of simply a sound, a sound in the sky made by my God.  How BIG this God was!  He could wake an entire county with one collision of clouds like it was nothing!  We Stearns County folks can barely get our tornado sirens to go off when there's a twister...I know this because with the last round of storms I ran from wide open window to wide open window begging my husband to turn down his comedy so I could hear the siren I thought I was hearing over the wind.  The radio broadcaster had said we needed to be "weather alert," which was a phrase I VERY quickly adopted into my panicked vocabulary for the evening (one of the great lakes deterred any twisters where I grew up, so naturally every time there's a warning, Charlie and I go on lockdown)..  "Um, Andy, I'd love to stir the taters, buuuut I can't dear; I'm trying to be 'weather alert!'"  "Charlie get away from the porch, that's not very 'weather alert!'" "Andy, you be 'weather alert' at the front door and I'll go upstairs and be 'weather alert' by our bedroom window."  Charlie couldn't resist his new window knocking habit so he found himself in 'weather alert' timeout in the safe room.  Needless to say by the storm's passing, my collected husband made me swear on the burnt taters that I would never use those two words again.   Back to the other night, I started thinking about how although God sometimes talks to us when we're willing to hear with a still small voice, or with subtle convictions through His Spirit, that does not make Him any smaller than He is.  He is still our creator, He is still the Just Judge sitting on His throne loving us little screw-ups simply because that's who He is.  I turned in my Bible, still hovering on my floor, to Job 37. "At this also my heart trembles and leaps out of its place.  Keep listening to the thunder of his voice and the rumbling that comes from his mouth.  Under the whole heaven He lets it go, and His lightning to the corners of the earth.  After it His voice roars; He thunders with His majestic voice, and He does not restrain the lightnings when His voice is heard.  God thunders wondrously with His voice; He does great things that we cannot comprehend. He loads the thick cloud with moisture; the clouds scatter His lightning.  They turn around and around by His guidance, to accomplish all that He commands them on the face of the habitable world.  Whether for correction or for His land or for love, He causes it to happen.  Hear this, O Job; stop and consider the wondrous works of God.  God is clothed with awesome majesty.  The Almighty- we cannot find Him; He is great in power; justice and abundant righteousness He will not violate.  Therefore men fear Him; He does not regard any who are wise in their own heart."  Wow.  For God to be God, He is as Just and Righteous as He is Loving and Merciful.  "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge."  

I have been profoundly convicted by this, and yet I'm comforted at the same time.  My Savior is the kind of Savior that will answer my 'help- me- find- my- keys- prayer' twice a week, and He is also a God that hates my sin as much as he hated the sin of the man who dared try and catch the ark of the covenant when he knew he wasn't to touch it.   I'm now praying that I never forget how Big He is, and that I remember to keep reverence and fear a priority lest I be woken again with thunder or worse.  

COLD HARD TRUTH- it's not about you!

I've talked about my husband and my son, a little about my childhood, but I want to talk seriously about the most important thing to me, and if you're on your way to heaven, it is to you as well.  Don't stop reading- I'm not crazy.  "Jesus Freak"  "Bible Thumper"  Yes and yes, but not crazy.  Let me tell you a story.  Once upon a time, we didn't all get here by two self created specks of dust colliding.  We were created by God, an all powerful God of Love.  God created the heavens and the earth and on the earth he placed Adam and then Eve.  Adam and Eve were created in God's image and they were perfection until they broke the one and only rule they were given (Charlie knows a thing or two about this :).  Since God was Holy and perfect their relationship was broken and the human race was condemned to death.  God is a good and just judge and all good judges have to punish the wrong.  However, because, "God loved the world so much, He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes on Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." John 3:16  Our crimes against the Holy God (sin) still had to be paid for, but instead of letting us pay for it ourselves God sent His perfect Son to come take that payment for us through his death on the cross.  Jesus Christ gave His life and bore our punishment so that we may be made right with God should we choose to accept His gift.  "I am the way the truth and the life, no man comes to the Father but by me," Jesus says in John 14:6.  It's not about religion, it's not about a set of rules, it's not about what your past looks like or your good vs. bad works.  Here's the cold hard truth- it's not about You at all!  We live in a society that looks for any excuse to get rid of this message.  It's not tolerant, it doesn't support evolution, mainstream media and pop culture abhor it.  Let me ask you something, if you haven't already put your trust in Christ what are you missing?  You know you're missing something.  God placed a desire for Him in everyone, and it can only be fulfilled with Him.  We try to fill the hole with material success, with friends, with relationships, with temporary joy that ultimately ends in disappointment.  None of that is satisfying because none of that is eternal, and we are eternal beings!  We have hearts and souls and a natural drive to love and be loved!  I could go on and on, but what I want you to know is this- God sees, knows, and understands your heart....He made you!  He knows your darkest thoughts and yet He still loved you enough to send His Son to pay your penalty over 2000 years ago.  All you need to do is accept that His gift is what it is and you too will experience the way, the truth, and the life.  Real, true, everlasting, life.

Andrew

I met my husband when I was fifteen years old at a Bible camp in southern Minnesota.  He was sixteen at the time and he was "THE" boy at summer camp.  Tall, tan, muscles everywhere, gorgeous smile.  At the time I had two very close friends- Liz and Jenna.  Liz and Jenna were beautiful and popular and every boy they came in contact with melted at the two of them.  Little bit of background on Liz and Jenna:  They stole the camp counselor's video camera every evening and taped themselves going to the bathroom and eating Little Debbie's in their sleeping bags and titled their adventures, "Live with Liz and Jenna!"  Not once......but every single summer they did this.  And every year they got funnier....and prettier....and togetherER.  Inseparable.  I'm sure you don't sense any jealousy there at all. :)
Anyway.
Andy was their type of guy and they were his type of girl, but God had another plan.  His plan was me, and I'm so glad He saw it through!  I'll never understand what my husband saw in me when I was fifteen. I closely resembled a twelve year old that might very well never hit puberty.  At 5'4'' , 85 lbs, and covered head to toe in freckles, I was hardly worthy to run the lights for the "Live with Liz and Jenna" show... but here we are!
Looooooooong story short- Andy and I wrote letters and emailed just about every day for two and a half years and then went to the same Bible College in central Iowa.  Yep, Iowa.  Two years later Andy proposed on the steps of the state capitol building, (yes Iowa has buildings) and we were married the following summer. I was nineteen and Andrew was twenty.  I've learned many hard lessons throughout our 7 years together, but God has continually shown me how to grow in my love for Andrew through my love for Him, and let me tell ya....it's worth it.  If you know Andy or I, you know we are both firstborn, headstrong, stubborn, fight to the death, competitive even if it's Tennis and neither of us could give a frog's nostril about Tennis, type people.  The ability to sleep in a trunk 6 months pregnant because I refused to give in to an argument about lumpy mashed potatoes can be debilitating to a marriage, but God has shown me the beauty in bringing two driven, crazy intense people together as well.  More about lessons later.

I'm only twenty-one and I can't pretend to give advice or counsel marriage after not quite three years of it, but I will promise without going into detail that my little three year old marriage has seen more than some lifetimes do, and I sincerely pray that the things I've learned and am learning will speak to someone out there who might be struggling with similar obstacles.

I'm reading this post and realizing that I'm writing in circles, and this type of disorganization normally drives me nuts, but think about it- this is a blog.  What in sam hill is a BLOG?  It's a weird word, and an even stranger concept. Ask my Granddaddy from Hurricane, Mississippi if he ever 'blogged' when he was young and he'd say, "No ma'am.  But I near reckon I prolly shot one er two of them in the crick."  Granddaddy shot everything in the crick.  Everything that was shot was shot in the crick. More about the crick later.

Points to be made here- God has a plan and He doesn't care how pretty you are, and for goodness gracious don't stand too close to the crick.

Charles

When I learned I was having a son, I was overjoyed.  My husband and his mother are very close and I assumed my relationship with my son would be as close knit as every other "mama's boy" I've come across.  My son is NOT a mama's boy.  You've heard people say, "Oh she looks just like her mother's baby pictures!"  My son not only looks like my husband's baby pictures but he also very much resembles the adult version.  Head to toe, he is a miniature version of Andrew.... I was quite simply an incubator, the woman that would bring father and son face to face, never to part.  As the two basically gaze into each other's eyes sun-up to sun-down I often use this fact to help them remember I am here.  I absolutely love when people refer to families with only sons as having the mother be the "princess, or queen of the family" or something equally lovely.  I don't know who they know.  I am no princess, but rather the humble maid to King 1 and King 2.  Sometimes I feel like I should be jealous of King 1 and King 2's relationship, and once and a while I feel a slight twinge of envy, but for the most part I am thankful that my husband is the father he is.  God knew I needed a husband that can get along fine by himself with my son from time to time; God's plan for me so far has kept me quite busy.

What I am genuinely concerned about on a daily basis is the way Charlie entertains himself.  When it comes to playing, Charlie is a very different little boy.  For instance I took him to play at a common play zone for kids at our mall.  Once his shoes were off, Charlie took about 30 seconds to survey his grand surroundings.  There were logs to jump on, a big rubber truck to slide down, and play tents and lilly pads to play in.  Kids were everywhere playing with the obstacles and racing around tagging one another.  Not Charlie though.  Charlie looks back at me and smiles and I look forward to seeing how he interacts with the other kids.  What happened next is the what makes me wonder about what kind of TV Charlie sneaks out of his crib to watch.  Charlie runs to the nearest child, who happens to be a little Korean girl, grabs her arm and licks it from wrist to elbow.  The Korean girl is too stunned to move for about 4 full minutes.  My little blondie then releases the poor girl's arm and retreats to the corner of the play zone (tripping several times over people's shadows).  He brought his nose to the corner of the matted walls and screamed, "Doggy!"  As he finished his scream he brought his little gray sock to his ear like it was  a phone. With one swift movement Charlie looked back at the Korean girl and smiled brightly, and then turned back to the corner and began laughing hysterically at whoever was on the other end of his imaginary sock phone.  Other moms started watching and pointing and I slowly began to think, "Hmm.......this might not be normal."   What's so great about normal though?

Once upon a time....

Hello, today I decided to start a blog.  Why?  Because I like to talk, I have a crazy life, I get an occasional laugh out of my daily life stories (mostly having to do with my funny little toddler), and God teaches me many wonderful things I'd like to share with others that may benefit!

Here's a little background that will help understand what's behind some of the things I share on here.  I'm twenty one years old with a three year old marriage and a beautiful twenty one month old product of my marriage.  Don't ask what I do for a living because the first two answers that come to mind are, "i don't know" and "um what don't i do?"  I've never cared for that question. Don't get me wrong I understand why we as a society ask it- it helps us understand each other, or classify what category we belong in: stay at home mommy, part time book-store worker, career woman.  I've just never felt comfortable answering this question with confidence... I'm a natural born people pleaser, but I'm coming along.

Moving on- I met my husband at a Bible camp when we were teenagers, we wrote letters and emails for two years without cell phones as we lived about 6 hours apart.  Eventually, we ended up at the same Bible College in Iowa and were engaged and married two years later.  He is wonderful, and yet still a man.  More about Andrew later.  Four months after we were married I found I was pregnant with our son Charlie.  Most mothers would spout something poetic and touching like, "Charlie is the light of our lives, he is what brought us together and taught us what true love is."  While that mush makes me grimace from cliche it is true, but how I would BEST describe Charlie Bryan is, "extremely clumsy, very sticky, really hungry, and ridiculously hilarious." Up until two weeks ago, Charlie addressed me only as, "DOGGY."  This says something about my son, but more than that it says something about my husband.  Everything a child knows, he is taught.  When my husband jokingly taught my son to call me "DOGGY," what he didn't realize is that Children are less easily 'untaught' something.  I have been doggy for nearly a year.  More about Charlie later.

As for the "what do i do" question- here goes.  I am a daughter of the Almighty God of Heaven, a wife to a delightfully sarcastic ESPN loving full time college student, a mother to a heaven-sent little goblin, a traveling financial rep for a contracting company, and a songwriting- guitar and piano playing-Steven Curtis Chapman stalking-striving musician.  So there ya have it, the beauty of the "where do you see yourself in five years?" question for me is that I don't have the slightest clue.  Maybe I'll be a missionary in Tibet.  Maybe I'll be on stage opening for some amazing gospel or country singer.  Maybe I'll be pregnant with my fourth child.  Maybe I'll still be on roofs telling folks how bad their hail damage is and how much their insurance policy will cover.  I don't know and that's okay, there's nothing wrong with a story still being written and an author just along for the ride.  God is good, and He is who my life belongs to.  He is who my troubles rest on, and my uncertainty finds rest in His peace.  He is my song.

So this is beginning, hopefully someone out there will read my words and be changed in some way.  We all have stories to tell, and mine happens to be full of hard and meaningful lessons and sprinkled with lighthearted moments throughout its pages.