Being Angry With God- A Walk to Remember

Ok, so in order to get a point across to my readers, I must first admit a weakness of mine. It will not, of course, surprise those who really know me: I am a sucker for chick flicks. Specifically, I turn into a blubbering fool at those movies where poor, pitiful, misunderstood young girls fall and are loved by tough, misunderstood boys. You know- movies like Pretty in Pink and Sixteen Candles. Or my most recent favorite: A Walk to Remember. (based on a best seller by Nicholas Sparks) Yes, it has become my most recent- hand me an entire roll of toilet paper because a kleenex won't do it- film. Specifically, I watched it every day that I was stuck in my bed sick this last week. That would be Sunday. And Monday. And Tuesday.




Now, I have to admit a few things, lest you've not seen this movie. First, Mandy Moore stars in it. Which means that yes, Mandy Moore sings in it too. And pouts in it. And is adorable as the preacher's daughter. But just in case being a poor, pitiful, misunderstood young lady isn't enough, Mandy Moore's character is also dying of leukemia in this movie. Oh yes, they've really spread it on thick. And I fall for it every time. And the leading man's name in Landon. OMG.. who wouldn't fall for a guy with a name like that?

Ok... so there really is a point to this.( Isn't there always?) My favorite scene in the movie is just shortly after she tells the new love of her life that she's dying (awww... too bad for him, huh?) Anyway, he of course, asks her why she didn't bother to tell him this before, as they were getting to know each other. She, clearly not expecting to fall head over heels for the dude, simply looked at him and said, "I do not want a reason to be angry with God." So, I'm not going to ruin the rest of the flick- you'll have to watch it yourself, but it did get me thinking.


Yesterday was my sister's birthday. She would have been 35. I miss her. Hmph. I hated her more than anything in the world sometimes, or what she'd done to our family anyway, yet I still miss her. And somewhere in the recesses of my deep dark brain, that quote came to me. And I've come to the conclusion that on a much different level, I have convinced myself not to allow these experiences to control my life because of that. Because I do not want a reason to be angry with God. Because there's not always someone to blame. Because sometimes things that happen just, well, just happen. I choose to believe in my God. And I choose not to blame him for the choices that my sister made, for her death, for the death of her daughter. For the life long affect it's had on my family. I choose not to blame him for the injustices brought to my body at such an early age. You know, the list could go on and on. Instead, I choose to be grateful for all that I have. For my beautiful children (I say this, because no matter what happens, I know that my next son will be beautiful in my eyes too!), for my loving husband, and for our family. I'm grateful that he allows me to have the common sense similar to that of a goose.. (OK, well, he may have fallen a bit short on that one, but we can't all be perfect, now can we?) I'm grateful for it all.


So, Amy, as always, I miss you and would give anything to stand by you at your majestic piano in the sky and sing while you play. I hope you had a happy birthday, wherever you are.

wimpy wimpy wimpy

I'm home sick today and it really makes me mad. It's a beautiful day and I don't even feel like going outside. What a wasted day. And whiny me, I can't stop worrying about the stupid fever that suddenly came out of no where and now is slowing increasing. I will be healthy at some point in this pregnancy so that I can enjoy it.

I'm grumpy. Poor pitiful me.

Whatever. There are those worse off and tomorrow's another day. woohoo.

Bigger and Better

Ok. So I'm not even going to waste time with my usual, "I'm not very good at these blogs..." line. Moving past that-
Well, I'm halfway through my pregnancy. All is going well and I'm feeling fine. Other than a torn ligament in my stomach, this has been a relatively quiet one. Of course, we caved in and told the whole world what we're having. Jacob was especially excited to find out that he's having a baby brother. That's right Izzy or Bella is really not an issue any longer, as our little one is well, a male! I was able to talk hubby into a different name. No disrespect to his grandfather, Frank, but I just couldn't name my child Frank. Instead, we're naming him James Robert. I think it has a nice ring to it, and as is consistent with our red neck roots, I think we'll call him JR. Who knows, maybe he'll end up making millions racing for the big BUD and we can all sit back high on the hog. *** Poof**** oops , sorry.. back to reality!
Speaking of reality, I don't think I ever mentioned that big brother (my new name for my first born son) was in fact, accepted to the private Christian school where we'd applied. He starts in August. I really have no idea how I didn't completely screw that up, but it could just be that big brother carried his own, and I really had very little to do with it. Anyway, he's in and we'll just see how long it takes him to get kicked out. That's, apparently what happened to hubby in his youth when attending a private Catholic school. He told one of the nuns where she could go. Considering that most nuns are celibate, I doubt that she actually did what he told her to, and in fact, it apparently offended her, as gave hubby the old heave-ho.
Big brother has been playing baseball this summer. It's a first for him, but he's doing great! I love watching him relate to the other kids on the team. It's not often that I get to see him interact with bigger groups of kids his age, so I get a kick out of it. In true Parker fashion, he got razzed yesterday for flirting with a little girl who was standing at third, which happened to be big brothers assigned base. He was making plans with her to meet after the game at the pool. We'd all yelled his name numerous times before he came back down out of his cloud. He actually blushed when the coach said "there's no time for girls in baseball little man!" It was great! They've decided that big brother works best as pitcher and on 3rd base. He seems to react quickly and retain the special instructions that each type of different hit brings with it. I can't even get the terminology of the game right. I keep saying "great home run!" and the 5 year olds promptly remind me that if they didn't hit it out of the field and are merely running home, it's just a run. Oh. OK... because that makes complete sense.

Well, my creative juices just aren't flowing this Sunday morning, so I apologize if this post has been a bit of a bore. On a daily basis, there seems so much going on, yet when I sit to write about it, it doesn't seem to be all that news-worthy, you know?