Rizzerd

I NEVER thought I'd have a lizard in my house. At least not in the 'pet' capacity. But, parenting is all about surprising yourself. This isn't the story of how the lizard came to reside in my house - that's a story that only Cole and I find interesting. This post is just because I find myself amazed at how a reptile can so endear himself to naysayers. Chad and I had serious reservations about having the lizard in our home. Two other pets and a 3-year-old seemed like an insurmountable number of death traps for a new tiny, soft-sided, scurrying animal. But Cole won with his research, good grades, respectful attitude, and long eyelashes (those eyelashes are going to be the death of me).

Right from the pet store, we knew this little guy was going to be funny. When we walked over to him, he started scratching at the cage like a crazy person in a padded cell. I've read all about bearded dragons and I know this behavior is common, but until you've seen it in action - and especially seen it while watching other bearded dragons just sit like lumps on their basking rocks, you can't imagine how cute it is.

Because he's a lizard, he has a constant look of curiosity. He's always tilting his head when you move and running toward the movement in the room to check it out. He doesn't hide or cower at all. When we brought him home, we looked like the other bearded dragons at the pet store; climbing all over one another to get a better look at him. There the 6 of us were, admiring and pointing out the obvious to the room. "Look, he just jumped from that branch to that other branch!" "Oh, see how he tilts his head every time we talk?" And my favorite; Cade's continuous use of the sentence, "I unna hold de rizzerd! I unna hold de rizzerd!"

Even watching him eat live crickets is the highlight of our family time. We wait until he's caught one and we all say, "Om nom nom nom" and then laugh like we are all stand up comics.

I've been the the pet store no less than 6 times since we bought the lizard looking for easier ways to feed him, and better ways to make sure he's warm or cool, or humid enough. I'm not at all sure Cole is any more excited than Chad and I about the new pet. In fact, whenever Cole takes Bumbledore (that's his name) out of his terrarium, Chad magically appears and pretty much takes over.

It's official, we are a lizard household. Here are some pictures of Bumbledore, the Bearded Dragon.


Here's his sexy picture:

Highways with God

I think I could start all of my posts with "My life is loud." It's a good place to start. It sets the mood quickly without a lot of words. I hear lots of talk about how busy we all are as a culture, though, so maybe your life is loud, too. Even my inner life is loud. When the kids are asleep, I still have thoughts, fears, worries, dreams, and to do lists running through my mind like a freight train. I never slow down because my life is always ahead of me and I'm running to keep up.

Because my life is so loud, I have an unenforced 'no music' law in my truck. No one agrees on music choices and playing music can actually create noise instead of melody. It's rare when we are all sing the same song without someone complaining. If we sing songs Cade knows (Itsy Bitsy Spider), Pearce is rolling his eyes. If we sing songs that Pearce likes (Bruno Mars), Cade is yelling, "It's too loud (translation: Iss too roud!)!

We normally skip the music in the car and just talk over each other.

It's because of this I enjoy road trips on my own so much. I plug in my iPod and play my favorite songs. It's in this time alone that God usually finds me. I'm vegging out - zoning on the highway and a song will come on. Because it's on my iPod, it's always a song I'm familiar with, but for some reason, it hits me anew.

And I'm helpless to what happens next. The song will speak to me. I mean, REALLY speak to me. Right where I am in my life. One of the funny musings I've discovered about these moments is how quickly it happens. I'm just sitting there singing and the words will disappear in my throat. A gurgle comes out instead. Water literally bursts forth from my eyes. My nose abruptly stops up and starts running at the same time.

I'm suddenly hyper-aware of the people driving in the lanes next to me, but I'm too afraid to make eye contact with them because I'm really leaking. From my eyes and nose. Why is the Kleenex box on the floorboard!?!?!? Gargh!!!!

I should change the song, compose myself, and slow a little so the people to my left and right will be far ahead of the sobbing, silently singing stranger. But I don't. I turn it up, I listen more deeply, soak in the moisture from the air around me in order to create even more tears.

Then, there is a peace. A knowledge that God is with me in the song and in my heart - and even leaking out of my eyes. I am emptied of all the noise and then filled with peace and sometimes revelation. I am grateful for those moments of restoration - regardless of what the drivers around me think. And regardless of an almost guaranteed lack of available Kleenex.