The Crib {a tour of sorts}

(A Home Song, by Henry Van Dyke)

{that is my fireplace}

I read within a poet's book

A word that starred the page:

"Stone walls do not a prison make,

Nor iron bars a cage!"

Yes, that is true; and something more

You'll find, where'er you roam,

That marble floors and gilded walls

Can never make a home.

But every house where Love abides,

And Friendship is a guest,

Is surely home, and home sweet home

For there the heart can rest.

{because the house was clean and all the other Smith homes have gotten blog love but this one and, most importantly, because my generous sister invited me in to this home that she's invested time and money and love to create so I and others can find heart rest here}

{now if only she could get some pictures in all these frames... ;) }

{that's my job}

Smiths on a Thursday Night

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Stephanie comes down the stairs with a candle.

Luke: you need to hold that thing between your knees.

She shoots a look.

Luke: you're pregnant, you can't help it... it still stinks.

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Stephanie: you cannot use the same scrubber we use on the dishes to wash your boots

Luke: why not?

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Mom: ooohh, those are some fine arms on him (talking about the texas quaterback)

Stephanie: oh, yeah. i love a good pair of arms

Luke: (mocking her) where are the cheerleaders? i love a good pair of boobs.

Me: okay, five year olds.

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Luke: ima call Jimmy and make fun of him... "Jimmy! your quarterback is a woman."

Stephanie: talk about five year old

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Dad: he's gonna break away in a little bit

Sadie: ima break some wind in a little bit

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Sadie: Luke, that reeks more than your baby ever thought about reeking

Stephanine: Did you turn the fan on or anything

Luke: I'm sorry, y'all yelled "touchdown" and I came running

Dad: "light a candle, light the dark, light the world, light a heart or two"

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For the record, all of this is going on after our having returned from seeing Chipmunks: The Sqeakquel, wherein I was the youngest person involved in our party. We'll see most anything, folks. Also, don't hate, because it was actually very cute!

Care, Love, and Hope

Christmas started late for us this mornting. And while usually this wouldn't even be a thang given that I don't normally wake up until 10 antyway, I slept like an excited school child last night. 3, 5, 7, 9-- I saw them all on the clock last night because I was that ready for "Santa to come." And, of course, to share the day with my family.

For the first time ever I didn't run straight to the top of the stairs. Matter of a fact, I actually took a quite leisurely bath. And then cuddled with Emily and yelled downstairs to Mom who was tending to our "visitor" and then read out of Luke's pOliceman Bible:

The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of the shadow of death
a light has dawned.

You have enlarged the nation
and increased their joy;
they rejoice before you
as people rejoice at the harvest,
as men rejoice
when dividing the plunder.

For as in the day of Midian's defeat,
you have shattered
the yoke that burdens them,
the bar across their shoulders,
the rod of their oppressor.

Every warrior's boot used in battle
and every garment rolled in blood
will be destined for burning,
will be fuel for the fire.

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Of the increase of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David's throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the LORD Almighty
will accomplish this.

(Isaiah 9: 2-7)

Emily's response was, "I could see how people were disappointed Jesus was only a baby." Indeed, I see their point.

Still, disappointed, we are not. Missing from the early morning around our house was Dad. Because while I anxiously awaited celebrating Jesus, he was off acting like him. Emily and I both couldn't help but brag on our twitters as we chatted in the darkness of Luke and Steph's room about "our hero."

Dad is an attending, who only has to show up in the morning to "round" on his patients-- the residents give him all of the latest information on a bed patient and he comes up with a treatment plan for the next 24 hours. The other day one of his residents was talking about her Christmas morning plans, saying she would have to wake her little boy up at 5 in the morning to be able to open gifts before she would need to leave to do her obligatory pre-rounds. The residents have to be in earlier than attendings in order to get all of the news from the night crew and prepare their reports for rounds.

He could have said "suck it up." That was him at one point, too. Could have said "I've earned my right to stay home with my family."

Children's Hospital has a motto: "Fear not illness, this place of care, love and hope is for you."

And Dad opted to show care, love, and hope to his resident. Because instead of saying "that's not my job," he gladly offered to come in early and do morning reports for her, so she could do Christmas with her little boy-- not at 5 a.m. And this morning he hurried home as fast as he could so as to not put us out by having to wait on him. As. If. His being at the hospital, making himself a servant, having that for a dad is one of my gifts. It certainly wasn't keeping me from them.

"Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others." (Philippians 2: 1-4)

The view from the top didn't stop him from looking out from looking after the interests of one of his own. This Christmas, how glad I am that the same could be said of Jesus.

Not for Naught

I'm officially unpacked and settled in "my" room-- the one with the treadmill and stationary bike and mini-fridge and Dad's closet.

And a bunk bed.

But, sadly, there will be no Quasi-sibling to bunk with this Christmas (only a real one named Emily once she gets her self done with school!). Yesterday we found out that Mom and Dad's background checks are under a ginormous stack of unfinished paperwork downtown. If these were submitted in August and we still haven't gotten them back, then Luke and Steph's, which were filled out in November will be a while. Obviously, we can't have a little person up in here during that while.

All of this seems crazy since we thought we were on the fast track to foster care. Our super nice social worker Alice was rushing our home study so that we could have a child by Christmas. She wasn't allowed to even start a home study, technically, without the background checks being finished. So when she showed up and starting taking notes on our life and living situation, we just assumed everybody had been cleared. But now the home study is typed up and finished and there is no background clearance. This is frustrating because if there were anything on Mom and Dad's records, it would've affected their license to practice medicine. Luke became a police officer in July, which would not have happened without a thorough background check.

Speaking of Officer C. Luke Smith, he made one of the largest drug busts in Bryant's history Sunday morning. I know, I know, those of you not from around here are thinking that probably doesn't take much in a podunk little Arkansas town. That would have been a correct thought process back in the day when he made the biggest bust in Cammack Village, a city of maybe 4 square miles. But Bryant is a sizable city and sits on I-40-- a thoroughfare for moving drugs from Texas to Missouri. So no, this was not one of like four busts this year. Luke is just a really good cop.

http://www.todaysthv.com/video/default.aspx?bctid=57203500001

The kind who gets to be the worst part of a bad guys day. He confiscated more than 20 pounds of marijuana from this car basically because he has a good read on people (can you tell I'm proud?). According to his Captain, Luke was just "on top of his game." Somebody is seriously pissed that they don't have their estimated 30,000 dollar delivery. But such is life, Mr. Drug Dealer. Such is life.

And life, for us, goes on as normally as it does for the Smiths for now. I can't even say I'm not bummed that I wont get to meet our kid during this extended break when I could get to know said kid. After all, it was going to be my favorite Christmas present. But, as many of my friends reminded me when I sent the news out yesterday, this is all in God's timing. It has been from the beginning. Not just from the beginning of this process, but from the beginning of time itself. I can't compete with that. And I wouldn't want to. Even if it meant I could be making cookies with a 6 year old girl or singing a 6 month old to sleep or playing basketball with a 10 year old boy, I wouldn't really want my timing over God's.

So the hoping and the praying and filing and the interviewing and the shopping and the prepping has not been for naught. All of it is working towards a child getting a safe and loving home at some point. Until then, I continue to pray for whoever is coming our way, for whatever situation is happening now that will be sending him or her our way. That is not really something fun to think about, but it is certainly worth praying over. And, in the meantime, we can take the lock off of the attic door that leads to where I need to put my suitcases up. I am convinced the door is hiding Narnia the way they have upped the security around it. In reality, the lock is another measure that has not been for naught. Even the fire escape plan continues to serve a purpose.

And though I wont be getting what I thought would be my favorite present, the real gift for now is having the family and the means to host a kid in the first place. I'll soak up my time with them while I have this chance. And praise God for his timing.

In Which I Am Thankful For A Lot of Things

You might think that a week at home with no real responsibilities might lend itself to some great blogging by yours truly. It is true that I have had a title ready to go like everyday this week (I wish I could remember one now so that my title wasn't so... how you say... straightforward. But, then, you get what you get).

But our wireless internet has been out intermittently (hm-mm, and I've intermittently been playing the Sims and getting "caught up" on the DVR. And caught up with the family and friends, of course. How dare you accuse me of the wrong priorities?!) and even if it was working, by the time I got around to it? Let us just say it was bedtime. It's not like I had all the next day to sleep in. Oh yeah! I did (but 'cept for that one time when I set an alarm and it woke Emily up but I kept right on sleeping. That was unthoughtful of me...).

Entyway. All I'm saying is that the first thing I'm thankful for this season is that our internet has been out intermittently, since because of this Evelyn has mostly sat in the corner observing the life around her as opposed to consuming mine. Which is good, because in this event Dr. Mario was able to swoop in and consume my life. A much nobler undertaking to be sure.

I'm thankful for, dare I say it, Twilight. Sure, it's kept the lady friends of my family out on the back porch with the door shut so I could still function without disturbing them, but I am glad that they've had that retreat. I'm thankful that it's been something to bond us all (even though I have refused to read the books based on the principle that I will not read on break given the oxymoronic tendency of that sentence).

I'm thankful for grandparents visiting. Sometimes visits aren't the most convenient or stress-free or exciting but I was thinking this time around how cool it is to have these figures in my life who love the mess out of their family. So without considering it really, their presence might seem a nuisance or whatever. But if I ever needed anything, they'd be there. For any time I've distanced myself or acted uninterested or overtly blown them off, they still come back and want to know how I'm doing and where I'm headed. So once you consider it, the nuisance isn't really that at all. It's caring. I see a parallel with Jesus there that was unmistakeable this go 'round. Sometimes I get burdened by his presence when he brings the conviction I ask him for or I find his words stale or boring, a nuisance, because it's not how I talk or they aren't how I'm living and I feel like I have to metaphorically clean the house before I can have him in. I blow him off, I tell him I have other plans, I tune out his conversation. But he keeps coming back because that is love. And because Jesus Christ would do anything for me. I'm thankful for that this Thanksgiving. And I'm thankful to grandparents for being that very real parallel in my life.

I'm thankful for Insanity. Not.

I'm thankful for every single one of my dogs. And again, thanks to the flaky internet, there has been ample room for them in my lap. Well, for the little ones, anyway.

I'm thankful for work.

I'm thankful for co-workers.

I'm thankful for southern accents and "thank yous" and "have a great day" and "pleases" and genuine "how are yous" as I get when I'm on the register.

I'm thankful for teachers who still mean the world to me and for the opportunity to serve them. Katie and I got to take a smoothie bar out to Little Rock Christian the other day and I kept joking that it was a modern version of washing their feet like Jesus did the disciples in that we got to serve them on this day. Katie gave me a strange look. I maintain this theory.

I'm thankful for Dad's promotion. But not near as thankful for that as I am thankful for the way he practices medicine in general--genuinely caring for his patients, with patience (except for when they can't get it through their head that it is just a VIRUS!-- sometimes that's frustrating for him...) I am for sure thankful for the opportuntity to celebrate with the entire family (and an entire cow between us all!).

I'm thankful for my Mom's cookin'.

Oh, I'm just thankful for laughter and chill.

I'm thankful for a break. And though there is a certain pit in my stomach reserved only for thoughts of going back and completing assignments and courses (I wish I could just fill said pit with food as I have every other nook and cranny of the organ), I am thankful for school and the opportunity to learn. So as I digest all of this frickin' turkey (mostly just sweet potatoes, let us be real), I do my best to digest with a good attitude the responsibility I have to do these next two weeks well.

I'm thankful for Virginia. I'm thankful for Arkansas.

I'm thankful for Link and Arkie.

I'm thankful for all of the changes that have happened since this time last year to prove many a time my own inadequacy and God's own timing and providence.

I am so thankful for every single one of my friends (those for whom I will serve as a bridesmaid as well as for those who insist we won't be friends come that time. cough Katie Jones cough. I'm also thankful for the gross nasty peach bridesmaid dress I'll be wearing come Sheryl's wedding...)

I am thankful for my camera and the people I get to take pictures of.

I am thankful for board games and families of friends to keep me out until all hours whilst my own family frets over my whereabouts because they care.

I am thankful for a lot of things. Hence, the title.

Sorry for the boring list. I just felt like it should all be stated for the record. And it was a good exercise to combat what Natalie Grant dubbed the "post-Thanksgiving blahs" -- to pump me back up to "real" life come way too early in the morning.

Good and Great

After a very emotional last Saturday night, I had a perfectly giddy evening (... morning.) this past weekend.

It's *almost* like God knew what I needed.

Almost.

Oh, okay. He did. Does. Straight up, all the time, looking out for this wayfarer. Which, in and of itself makes for a giddy evening. Throw in a few long time, long-been-far-away friends and everything is upped to elation. Belly laughter, even.

And on top of this, I get great news from Virginia on two fronts. An exciting announcement that I'm not sure I can share yet about the BCM as well as the i-dont-even-have-words-for-the-excitement call from Katie Jones that I do, in fact, have a for real roommate for next year. I mean, I had to get over the whole "omg now I have to share a room again?!?" disappointment, first ;) THAT was a joke. The two of us don't share, we fuse. And boy do we have a lot to talk about. But right now it's 12:45 and what sort of roommate starts talking loud past midnight?

There are actually so many people who have a phone call from me past due. I could make a list right here, but I wont. Still, I felt like I should acknowledge that fact. It's just that I had an amazing weekend tucked away in Dallas, bonding with some incredible women. Not the least of which being my mother. I can't wait to be in Fredericksburg bonding with some more of you amazing folks, but I only had a concentrated amount of time to live it up with the Gerlachs. And now an even more limited amount of time to cherish the people I love here at home.

I can't even believe it's time to leave.

Even more unbelievable is how prepared I feel to go. The most prepared I've ever felt, I think.

Not really ready. But surprisingly ready.

Got it? Me neither.

Part of the preparedness may have something to with the fact that I bought out the entire kitchen section of Ross: Dress for Less, with side items from the shoe and clothing departments. Mom came home in May with stories of this store, but y'all, Ross is amazing. The mere thought of my new orange mixing bowls makes me want to go whip up something straight out of a Julia Child cookbook.

Which reminds me. There is a moment in the movie when Julia and her sister are getting ready for a big fancy event. They are extremely tall, just plain big built women. So they get all beautified and are standing in front of the mirror observing themselves. Julia says, in an impressed tone, "pretty good." After pausing for a second she follows up with a "not great, but good." And the sisters laugh it off. It's quite a charming little snippet. Honestly something I think about myself a lot here recently. Not just in the looks department, though certainly there. A lot in the service/discipleship realm as well. I have loved this summer. But there are some areas that have been good and I am staring an opportunity to make them great in the face.

That opportunity, of course, being this semester. And by "make them great" I do mean "be made great." Because it hasn't been and won't be me doing the great.

I am ready to regularly exercise again. Not because I think I look bad, but because my body feels bad. I get out of breath on a stair case, I can hardly get half a mile on the treadmill before I have to start walking. Very slowly. AKA crawling. It's not cool. Like literally. It has been so hot and that, friends, does not make a girl want to run. But the um, we'll call them dimples, in my skin that have resurfaced since May are beginning to provide the motivation. I really don't mean to be vain here. I realize that it is a privilege I take for granted to even be able to function properly and run in the first place. That I have the physical and emotional means to get in shape is a gift. My desire to hit the gym has nothing to do with being the prettiest girl at the ball. But it has a lot to do with that as long as I have the means and ability to live healthily, I want to be a good steward of what I'm given.

I am ready to serve in avenues I have previously only thought about. Thinking has only gotten me so far in the past couple of years. I look forward to the doing. At fairview. At Micah. At the BCM. At the VBMB. It may sound stupid, but honestly a cute (that may be pushing it) little (again debatable) 1998 clunker/answer to prayer is going to make this happen. I cannot even begin to tell you how life changing a vehicle will be to me. Told you it would sound stupid. But hopefully my life wont be the only one changed. It is my honest prayer that Arkie be a vessel for me to work for, help, and learn from others. Cheesy as it sounds, my horizon has broadened. And whereas before I knew of needs, I feel like I have 10 times the means to meet needs. And meet people. Good will be great.

I mentioned last weekend that Mom brought up Psalm 86 after she came across it during a quiet time. Well, she did something with it. She pulled out every single quality of God mentioned in the passage and typed it out on a little note card. At the top it reads, "Because the I AM has been, I CAN be." (seriously, where does the woman come up with this stuff? ... right.) It's quite the lengthy list, as can be expected. To me they are the things that make the difference between good and great.

Because the I AM has been, I can be...

- a guardian of life

- trustworthy

- merciful

- joyful

- kind

- forgiving

- abounding in love to all who call my name

- a listener

- part of the answer

- great

- a doer of marvelous deeds

- taught/a teacher

- truth

- a deliverer/delivered

- compassionate

- gracious

- slow to anger

- faithful

- strong

- good

- helpful

- comforting

- encouraging

I'm just ready for God to do great things. Surely I look around and see that He already has. The new is just especially exciting.

What's for Dinter?

Around this house (it has spread to many houses, actually, I'm afraid) we put a lot of unnecessary t's in words. I might be the worst out of everyone.

The most common insertion of the "t" has to be in the word dinner.

So now you know I haven't made some major typo in my title.

Sometimes if I say "dinner" I correct myself and say "dinter." It's that bad.

Anyway, once a week I'm responsible for making dinner. Correction. I'm responsible for dinner. Making it is optional, depending on whether or not I want to spend money to take everyone out (I usually don't). This week I did two meals, so I'm petitioning to clep out of next week. I'm sure Trudy will pull some sort of "well I cooked hundreds of meals with no help, so I don't owe you a dern thing" argument. It will most likely work. So look forward to "What's for Dinter: 2nd

edition" next week.

My first exquisite meal was a feast of egg,

bacon ("how bout some... bacon!" name that movie),

tomato, turkey, pepperoni, and 2 kinds of fine cheeses (cheddar and pepper jack).

Otherwise known as the omelette.

I should mention that all of my meals are for now excruciatingly boring given that this Smith household is back on phase 1 of the South Beach Diet (boo!) So it's all sorts of meat and like 1 1/2 carbs a day for at least 2 weeks (woot.).

Okay so an omelette is and omelette is an omelette. Seen one seen 'em all.

But tonight I made what I call "Chicken FredVegas." It is chicken breast

wrapped up in turkey

then wrapped in bacon

and baked up in some cream of chicken.

Usually it has rice. Refer to the diet outlined above. 1 1/2 carbs a day hardly leaves room for some rice. Instead I served the meat with black beans

and a chopped salad with pecans.

Don't I sound fancy.

I even listened to La Vie En Rose as I cooked. That's high society.

Or as Mary Beth (who I finally got to talk to today) would say, "privileged."

The ability to up and go to the grocery, bring food home and prepare it for five hungry mouths. Yeah, I'd call that a privilege.

Just call me Sadie Homemaker. But 'cept for don't.

Real Life

Check out the newlyweds:

no, not them (although, aren't they cute?).

I'm speaking of my parents.

And by "newly," I do mean 29 years ago. So 29yearsagoweds. That just didn't sound as good. Mom kept saying yesterday "I'm getting married at 3!" and I would keep replying "29 years ago." Then I asked her if it felt like 29 years. She pondered my question for what seemed like 29 years, I'm sure picturing some pretty good as well as some pretty low moments. Remember the concrete? That was probably in the replay running through her head. The answer? Yes and no.

I think she was just too excited to be getting married (at 3 p.m.) to come up with a better answer ;)

There is something so blessed, sacred, fabulous, comforting, inspiring, honest and real about having a mom and dad who would do it all over again, 29 years and a whole lot of crap later. Maybe not for free, but they'd do it again (that is not only an extremely clever sentence, but also a quote from House Guest, and therefore I cannot take credit for it... just when I had people thinking I was a decent writer).

We have a saying that comes up a lot around here-- "that's real life."

For example, this...

... is real life.

Oh, I like this game (and now I've gone back over a good majority of the 13,000 pictures on my iPhoto to find so true to life moments).

First, a picture of mom drinking a smoothie last weekend to the last drop. That's real life. I promised to never make this picture public... it's real life that I did anyway.

Stepping in a mud pile during a senior picture photo session... real life.

Sam mid-bite in the midst of a typically female-dominated discussion.

Josh strolling through a grocery store, already eating something he has no intention of paying for.

Like when you're stressed out about final papers and decide "what the heck, I need a break, it'll be good to be with the girls for a day, chillin' at a baseball game" but then Jill's car breaks down.

Or you're just trying to get a decent picture of some older BCM leadership and this is what happens.

Or when Lindsey does something crazy

Like when Mesha is trying to yell at Jordan (our manager) for scheduling her on a Tuesday ("when he KNOWS she can't do Tuesdays, what would possess him to do that, is this sabotage because she will NOT have any of it, WHAT is his issue for doing this to her... etc") and he's sitting there checking facebook.

Or when someone comes running, asking Deirge where they can find this or that in the CCM kitchen and she goes off on her social duties (only to find that they are out of "this or that"... bummer). That's real life.

When all 3 Smith girls are getting ready in one bathroom, running late. Real life.

When the ladies of Willard 112 decide to go back on a spontinuity (i know that's not the word, take it up with my Rooms) kick and dye Noelle's hair and then she starts doing inappropriate things behind my back (or butt). Real life.

Claire making this face while Katie Titus hides behind a stool and Cole looks like he has no idea what the heck is going on.

Emily and her better half (because sometimes it's like they might as well be married) gettin' their hands dirty in ministry.

Deirge laughing uncontrollably at something Dina had said. Dina laughing because Deirdre is laughing, unaware that all of this laughter is, indeed, at her expense. But laughter all the same, I suppose.

Ashley instructing Gillian on the art of cooking decorating. And then her OCD-ness kicking in, providing for a speed of about one decorated cookie per hour. It's just her being thorough. It is also, you may have guessed, real life.

The Creepster showing up and engaged in some sort of physical battle with Noel. Typical. And real life.

Sometimes you're keeping a 7 week old baby and don't have a crib, so you use a laundry basket instead. Maybe not the most vogue option, but real life.

I was getting to a point before all of this. Hopefully you've picked up on the pattern. Sometimes stuff doesn't go as planned. Other times, people act in direct accordance with their personalities and that is humorous. The idea behind "that's real life" is that most of the time, good or bad, you have to roll with it. And if you can't find the good in a situation-- the humor, the growth, the purpose-- you're just going to go crazy.

Especially when real life turns to crap. Then it'd really take some integrity to find a purpose in carrying on. I mean a lot of the time you can just laugh real life off. But then there are just completely humorless situations and to work through it? That is real.

When it comes to marriage these days, divorce seems like the real life option. It's increasingly becoming the norm, while happy marriages set up shop in fairy tales and feel good stories. Marriage is idealistic. Divorce, reality.

In observing my parents I'm learning that marriage is so not ideal (again, a quote from a movie-- Bride Wars, of course). It is real. It takes work and compromise and arguing and a bunch of frayed nerves. That's the inevitable. Not divorce... it's evitable. Are there situations for it? Yes. Is it something for a child of divorced parents to be ashamed of? No. Do kids of divorcees feel a lot of shame? I think so. I often feel guilty that I can't empathize with these people. Because I feel like I can't possibly know what they're going through. To them, I have the ideal situation going on here-- parents in love 29 years later. But to me? This is real life. We've got the ups and downs and in-betweens. The hurt feelings, the tears, the laughter, the struggles. It doesn't feel ideal-- it feels real.

I can't say that I don't feel blessed, though, that one of my first memories is of my parents sitting me down and promising me they would never get a divorce. How could they be sure? They couldn't know then what would happen in the future, right? Aren't there extenuating circumstances? For other people, yes, I believe there are. All kinds of things can go wrong. Cheating, homosexuality, abuse, just crap in general. The crap they couldn't promise away. But the cheating, homosexuality, and abuse, for my parents, was then and there, always and forever, ruled out. Black and white, it would not happen. And based on everything I observed about them back then, I believed them. Up to this day, I believe them. Because they said so. And because they promised more than to each other, more than for the sake of their kids.

It's not that they weren't going to let real life affect their marriage. It's that their marriage has been real life. A marriage that has been prayed over, for, about, through, in. For better or for worse.

I was being nosy and found this verse that mom sort of assigned to their marriage: "O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name together." -Psalm 34:3

So it has been their intent all along to prioritize in this order: 1) God 2) Each other 3) Kids 4) Work. It hasn't always worked out that way in every situation. But it is working.

And I praise the Lord for it. And for 29 years.

But mostly, for making Himself a part of real life.

I'll bring it back to the actual newlyweds now. One day about a year ago Luke said to Stephanie (to insult her, I might add, rude) "you're acting like my mom." She sharply responded, "well, you're acting like your dad." But clever Luke came back-- "well it's worked for them!"

Yes it has.