Wonders Never Cease

My Littlest Boy

2011-08-24T17:18:00.002-04:00

It's hard to believe that it was 3 years ago when I sat to post of my nervousness as my oldest started Kindergarten. Now, I'm writing of my youngest, only 2 years old and how quickly my baby is growing.

Just yesterday, for the second time this year, we took James to the emergency room because he was in respiratory distress. The first time this happened, he was actually turning blue. This time it wasn't quite so drastic, but I will, nonetheless, never get used to the helpless feeling that comes with thinking my child's life is.. um.. well... temporary.

But I digress...

That evening, sitting beside James' bed before his breathing became a real issue, I determined that I should try to relieve his coughing by administering a breathing treatment. James has asthma, so this sometimes helps. Anyway, I lifted him out of his bed, put the mask over his mouth and nose and sat in the floor with him as he breathed in the pharmacological remedy. Understand that not a word was passed between us during this process. It was 2am, and all was quiet in the house. When the breathing treatment was over though, I switched off the nebulizer, and James said so quietly, "Thank you, Mommy."

It was hard to lay him back down after that.

My two year old.

By 5:30am, James' breathing was rough (thanks to a bad case of croup and agitated asthma.) So we decided that waiting for the doctor's office to open wasn't an option and took him to Children's Hospital. As I carried him through the early morning chill of downtown Knoxville (the parking lot is on the other side of the building from the emergency room entrance), I paused to wait for passing cars before crossing the road. James, improving with the cool air, lifted his head, took in his surroundings, and said very matter -of- factly, "You better be careful Mommy. There are many cars out here."

My two year old.

Today, I stayed home with James, and fresh off of a dose of steroids, he is not only eating me out of house and home, but I've now dubbed him the Tazmanian Devil! He has been all over the place dancing, laughing.. oh and eating! This is my sick child! So it really should have come as no surprise when I heard him screaming and ran to find that he had toppled head first into his rather large toy box. I pulled him out by the ankles and cradled him as though a new born.

My two year old.

A short while later, James was returning a remote control truck downstairs to his playroom. It's the kind where the vehicle is attached to the remote console with a long wire (you know, so it's not really .. um.. remote). Anyway, I stopped James to help rearrange his armload, concerned that the wire would trip him up on the way down. Once everything was adjusted to my satisfaction, I said "Are you sure you've got it? I can help you. I'm worried you might trip, James." By that time, he was already half way down the stairs. He paused, turned his head ever so slightly toward me, and said,

"It's OK, Mom. I won't trip. I love you!"

My two year old.

I guess my whole point to this long diatribe is that this week, my 2 year old, my precious baby, has been such a little man. Maybe I'm just really tired from lack of sleep over the last two nights or maybe it's just because I can't have any more babies that I'm so nostalgic. That I can so easily picture him headed for college, turning to me saying, "It's OK, Mom. I'll be fine. I love you!" And I wonder where the time goes. I wonder how, in this short 2 years, he knows so much. How he feels so much. I wonder if, on that late summer day when he heads off on his own, I'll remember moments like these. I sure hope so. Because I don't ever want to forget what it was like when he was, well...

My two year old.!

Just Another Day

2010-07-07T21:33:00.004-04:00

Every year on my birthday I say how it's just another day, then I squeal in delight when the next person wishes me felicitations. This morning I awoke to a wall full of well wishes from friends I haven't seen in years (yes, I really did check FB first thing this morning!), but I can honestly say that each one made me stop, smile, recall a memory with them, and appreciate that they took a moment out of their day to wish me well. At work, my colleagues offered cards and cake and even garnished my workspace with balloons. My oldest son, who is visiting my parents, called to wish me a happy day. My husband and I shared our favorite Chinese dinner together (even though all of the fortune cookies were clearly meant for him!) It has all been so extraordinary and has meant more this year than any other.

So, back to my original point- "just another day". Now, I love birthdays. I think that there should be celebration and lots of excess. But I've never (well, not as an adult anyway) really gotten caught up in the age game. I am the age I am, and it's .. well.. just another day.

Until this year.

This year, I am a year older.

This year, I have learned for 365 days.

This year, I've been a daughter, wife, mom and friend to those I love for 52 weeks.

And this year, I have, once again, taken it all for granted.

As many of you know, I am currently undergoing tests to determine whether or not I have lymphoma. I am waiting for the results of those tests as we speak.

Lymphoma...

I keep saying it over and over as though to become comfortable with the word will help me come closer to a possible reality.

Lymphoma.

While I know that confirmation of this illness is not a death sentence, I am still frightened by the what-ifs. (bear with me.. there really is a point to all of this.)

What if it is lymphoma?

More importantly, what if it's not?

Will I sigh after receiving the news?

Will I tell the nurse 'thank you' and just turn back to the monitor, where I spend 8 hours every day and simply move on with relief?

Or will I stop what I'm doing and say a prayer, thanking God for all that I have. Will I remember what I learned during this brief moment of fear?

To trust in the Lord more.

To love with more passion.

To work harder.

To be a better friend to those who have invested so much in me.

To hold my husband and children every day- remembering that there is no promise of tomorrow.

No.

This year, my 36th year on this Earth, I will not take it for granted.

Because it is not just another day.

It is my day and I have cherished every moment!

2009-10-12T22:09:00.002-04:00

I have a letter. It's an old letter, and it's one that I haven't looked at for a very long time, but it hides in the pages of Ecclesiastes 3:1-7. It changed a man's life. Because of it, I changed a man's life.

When I first received the letter, I didn't know what to do with it. I read it, and reread it. Ultimately, when all was said and done, I put it in my desk and moved on with my life, but not before letting it persuade me to take actions against another. You want to know what the letter said, but I won't tell you. It is private. I am not trying to be cryptic, but I will simply say that it was heartfelt and tearful, and I believed it. I believed in the power that I felt when I read it and I let it define me in that moment as someone who would not tolerate an injustice against her.

As I got older, I would run across it now and again and for reasons I cannot explain, I kept it. I aged. It aged, yet that old letter still moved me. Its meaning changed for me over the years and as I got older, I realized that the power I felt at that time I first received it was misplaced. The drama of the moment led me to take actions that now seem so unnecessary. In other words, I realized that I had been wrong. I had made a decision that seemed so simple at the time, but was in fact complicated beyond even my own understanding.

So, as I got older and wiser, I decided that the old letter needed a new home. I placed it in my bible, in the book of Ecclesiastes. Here, on the pages of my old bible, it reads,

To everything there is a season, and
a time to every purpose under heaven:

A time to be born, and
a time to die;
a time to plant, and
a time to pluck up
that which is planted;

A time to kill, and
a time to heal;
a time to break down, and
a time to build up;

A time to weep, and
a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and
a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones, and
a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and
a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and
a time to lose;
a time to keep, and
a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and
a time to sow;
a time to keep silence, and
a time to speak;

A time to love, and
a time to hate;
a time of war; and
a time of peace.

Understand that I placed my old letter there for a reason. This was before the days of MySpace and Facebook. Before you could just IM an old "friend". In my heart I hoped that there would be a time when I would be able to face the man who never even knew that the letter existed. The man who never knew what really drove me to do the things that I did. I believed that I would have the chance to ask for forgiveness and to help heal wounds that I had dug deep. So I placed the letter there. And I waited.

It's been 13 years and I have been blessed (dare I say, blessed) by the invention of Facebook, where I have had the opportunity to speak with the man whose life I changed so many years ago. We have talked. I have cried. He has asked why? I have explained about the letter and I have given answers as best I know how. He has given forgiveness without condition.

Someday, I'll take that old letter out of my bible and put it away. For now though, I choose to leave it there, adding my own page to depict a new chapter of my life. This time the letter being written comes from me. The life that it's changed is mine.

Thank you for your forgiveness R.

Respect

2009-08-15T22:10:00.003-04:00

Well, I've decided to write another blog that will, in all likelihood, offend at least one of you.

Let me first start by saying how happy I was to see that my last blog initiated the discussion that it did. I appreciate all of the feedback that I received from my friends. I especially appreciate those of you who responded specifically to my dilemma of how to address the topic with my 6 year old. I will say only that I took the advice given by one of you and the conversation was a good one. My son was surprisingly open to the concept presented to him, and ultimately reminded me that what is important is that Christ died for our sins so that we can live.

So, to my point of this post. While I was pleased to see what a wonderful conversation is possible on this world of Facebook, I was very disappointed to see how quickly it could turn into something laden with off topic banter and disrespect. Keep in mind that I love to learn, so I actually enjoyed the tidbits of information that, while not really helping with my situation, were none-the-less peaking my interest. I did not however, appreciate that my friends were disrespected and called insolent names for simply expressing their opinion of my situation and offering insight through other knowledge. Whether or not that knowledge was always correct, is really irrelevant. No one knows everything. To correct misinformation is a simple action. To insult someone in process of doing so is unnecessary and immature. And it is especially my opinion that to do so through a social networking tool such as Facebook, to someone you know nothing about, shows not your greater knowledge, but your ignorance.

Let me lay it out like this: I choose my "friends" on Facebook very carefully. I like to believe that all of them are either true friends or good acquaintances. In other words, I care about their feelings. I care about whether they have a good day or bad day, whether their children and families are happy and healthy and whether they believe that I treat them with respect that they deserve. Why is this important in the scheme of this blog? Simply put, while I believe that my "friends" deserve respect from me, I in turn believe that if you are writing to them or in response to them on my Facebook page, that you should treat them with that same respect. Anything else, is not only disrespectful to them, but also to me. I take it personally. It is personal. Please understand that.

Dale Carnegie once said, "Any fool can criticize, condemn, and complain but it takes character and self control to be understanding and forgiving."

'Nuf said.

A Personal Perrogative

2009-08-07T21:40:00.004-04:00

Well, now I've seen it all. Perhaps I'm making a big deal out of nothing, but I saw something today that just didn't set well with me. Maybe you've seen it. I have to warn you that not everyone will agree with my view on this. Anyway:

So there it is. I was in the Food City parking lot, running in to quickly pick up some comfort food for my youngest when I passed a Suburban with this decal posted in the middle of the rear window. I had exactly 16 minutes to make it inside, complete my purchase, run back to the car and drive to my eldest son's daycare, which is at best 10 minutes away. I took 3 minutes of that very narrow window of time to stand perfectly still, staring at this decal. I turned away, took two steps, then stepped back and just stood and stared. I guess I was making sure that it really did mean what I originally thought it meant.

Yes, no doubt. I definitely understood the message.

In the next moment I wondered if my 6 year old would have been able to read it. I believe he would. And I believe in that moment of excellence in education, my 6 year old would have been absolutely and utterly confused. "You mean Jesus had his body pierced?"

ME: Well, yes, actually.
SON: What part?
ME: What?
SON: What part?
ME: Um..
SON: I mean was his tongue pierced? Or his ears? Did he have one of those thingies in his nose?

I have taught my son, when asked why someone has a ball sticking out of their tongue, a gauge hanging through their ear, or a stud in their nose, that people make different choices in life. And that when he's older, the choice will be his. I chose to pierce my ears he would point out. Could he? Again, I teach that it is a personal choice. I explain the process one must go through to have a piercing. Understand, whether or not you believe that piercing your tongue is attractive, or whether you think a belly button ring is the sexiest thing on earth, the point remains- how in the world can you even remotely begin to compare this to putting a nail into a man's hand with the sole purpose of inflicting pain and ultimately death?

Now let me say that I fully believe in freedom of speech. I do of course believe that there are times some idiots should really shut their mouths, but I still think they have the right to spew their stupidity if they so desire. I also believe in the freedom of expressing one's religious beliefs. I, too believe that Christ died on the cross for my sins. I believe that his pain was excruciating. I have taught my son how and why this all occurred, and I have watched his anguish year after year as he takes it all in at the reenactment of the crucifixion that is so magnificently portrayed at The Living Christmas Tree. Never once have I tried to explain why Christ suffered through the pain of being nailed to a cross by comparing it to mutilating one's body with piercings.

In my mind there is simply no comparison and while I think it's fantastic to see the life of Christ alive now more than ever, I do not agree with this slogan campaign and was grateful that for this afternoon at least, I do not have to explain to my child why someone is rejoicing over Christ's "body piercing". I do not have to clarify that he doesn't have a nose ring, earrings, or ear gauges.

My husband points out that perhaps I'm missing the message or that I'm doing a poor job of expressing what really bothered me the most about this slogan. Listen, I got the point of the slogan. I just don't like having to explain to my youngster why body piercing as he knows it is being compared to the crucifixion of Christ. But then again, the decal on a Suburban, stuck to the back window, in the Food City parking lot has my family talking about the crucifixion of Christ.

Hmmm.
God works in mysterious ways.

I still don't like the decal.

To Cheat or Not to Cheat- That is the question!

2009-07-01T11:04:00.004-04:00

B, Hope you don't mind that I copied my comment from your blog!
(Her blog can be found at http://www.boakyewaaglover.com/ . What you read below is my response to an "interview" that she posted where she asked one of her friends for his opinion about cheating) Men should take note!

B- I am fascinated by your blog. My first visit here, and I am moved to leave this comment: Cheating is a choice. Period. It is not something that your body does without your mind’s permission. To cheat, your mind makes a choice. It’s obvious that at this stage in his life anyway, Kweku has made that choice. Relationships take work. Constant upkeep. Women want awareness from their loved ones; notice and validation that their emotions and needs are seen and matter. Even the fact that these needs aren’t necessarily met or that their significant other doesn’t agree with them isn’t as important as that they’re recognized. When, in the rat race of today’s society, we begin to move so quickly in our lives, we fail to be aware of those people we love, we risk the loss of them. We risk that they look elsewhere for that awareness- for that one person who doesn’t take them for granted. Then, the choice is ours. It is my true belief that if you keep that awareness in your relationship or marriage and work to maintain that respect and communication, neither of you will ever want for more. Women should always remember this. It’s what each and every one of us deserve.

Happy Birthday, Moose

2009-06-03T00:00:00.003-04:00

Clara Ortega once wrote, "To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other's hearts. We share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys. We live outside the touch of time."

Today is my sister's birthday. She would be 36.
I turn 35 this summer. But in my mind, Amy is still 10 and I'm 9, and we're rollerskating down the driveway, singing the latest McDonald's jingle, laughing like there's no tomorrow.

In my mind, Amy is 13 and I am 12. Amy is playing the piano, singing alto, and I'm singing soprano. Our voices blend perfectly. We're on stage, performing at our school talent contest. We're happy. In my mind.

In my mind, Amy is 15 and I am 14. Amy is much larger than me. But we laugh. She calls me Mouse. I call her Moose. She's still beautiful. In my mind.

In my mind, time has not touched us. Amy is not really gone, and today will just be the day we always dreamed of. Today we'll be grown women, spending our days together, watching our children play. She's happy. She's beautiful. And in my mind, she always will be.

Happy Birthday, Moose. I love you.

My Boys

2009-04-08T22:50:00.005-04:00

Well, I simply couldn't pass up the chance to put these two pics side by side. The left is Jacob, almost 6 years ago. The right is James, 2 months ago. Aren't they beautiful?
It's amazing how far they've come in such a short time. Jacob is about to "graduate" from Kindergarten! It seems like just yesterday that I wrote the blog, scared out of my wits that he had an interview with the principal! And James is already 6 months old; I can't believe it!
Things have been so busy- Jacob started baseball season, though it feels like his heart's just not in it this year. He had a bad experience in the fall season, and I think it's scared him off a bit. Rob is also an assistant coach on the team. Even though school's not out yet, they have 2 or more games every week. Then they usually have another game on Saturday. Fun fun!

James' MRI is scheduled for next Friday. Please pray for us. I have all the confidence in the world that it will all work itself out- no matter what the doctors find, but I still have to admit that every now and then, out of the blue, I just lose myself in a bout of tears. I can't stop it.

Work has been, well, an experience all its own. I won't go into details, but let's just say it's been a rough road lately, and it really just feels like I can't get anything right. I must say, though, that our team really works well together, and I'm lucky to have the job that I do.

So, reading this, can you tell that my heart's not in my post? I really did just want to post the two pictures- I get such a kick looking at them side by side and thought that you might too. Enjoy!

As I'm signing off, the news is reporting that another local soldier has been killed in Iraq. So, I'll just take this opportunity to say thanks to those of you who serve our country every day. Thank you for keeping us and our country safe. To mothers and fathers, thank you for loaning out your loved ones so that we can all sleep a little better at night. On the Country Music Awards a few nights ago, an injured soldier said, "You don't have to support the war, just support the warrior." I couldn't agree more.

The Beginning of the End

2009-03-18T21:21:00.001-04:00

Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending. ~Author Unknown

A Warm Monday

2009-03-09T12:51:00.013-04:00

Wow. It's beautiful outside. And I love it! I really don't have much at all to write about- it's a Monday. So I'll do exactly as JMS' blog title suggests and randomly ramble. (thanks for letting me borrow that, JMS!)

I spent last night, late into the night, catching up with old friends on Facebook. We all talked about (and made fun of) many of our antics of days long ago.

One friend, whom I've not seen for well over 20 years, has a 14 year old. I said, "My gosh. Are we that old?" Ha. I don't feel that old. Another friend, who I hurt every time I had the chance back in college, accepted my own apologies, but then spent forever rehashing his own stories of mistreating those he was with. He really worried about it too.

But you know what, if there's one thing I believe it's that I love my life. And if anything had changed- any one thing had been done differently in my life- I might not have any of what I do today. That means good and bad. The traumatic experiences contributed as much as, if not more to the life I have today and I wouldn't trade it for anything!

Two movies come to mind, and if you've not seen them, you should check them out. Both are based on the premise that if one thing changed, there would be a chain reaction like non other and every detail would likely change. Both are rather old: Sliding Doors and Frequency. Neither are worthy of award nominations, but they both really get you to stop and think.

Here's how I see it:

Maybe you were mean to people. Maybe you played with their emotions, maybe you just downright mistreated them. You know, they probably remember you. Chance are, they weren't scarred for life, but I bet they remember you. So take a minute to find them and apologize. You don't have to rock their world, just let them know that now, today, you remember too. And you're sorry. Not that you would change it if you could, but just that you're sorry. And I'm sure, even after all this time, they'll thank you for it.

Oh and on a side note- if you're reading this Jon, it's March. And I know it's March. And what it means to you. I just wanted you to know I remembered.

Now, on to bigger and brighter- here are a few recent pics. Just last Saturday, I took my little ones to JMS' birthday celebration for her youngest. What a time they had! Thanks for the invite!

The Kindness of Strangers

2009-03-04T19:16:00.003-05:00

I'm writing today because someone was kind to me. The sad thing is that I'm writing because this type of kindness is so rare that I believe it deserves to be recognized. So, humor me, and read my short little story:
I drive a Chrysler Town and Country Mini Van. I got new tires for the van not so very long ago, but I noticed recently (and by recently, I mean over the last 6 weeks) that my back left tire wasn't holding air. I mean, it wasn't going flat, but it was clearly not holding air quite like it should. So, for the past 5 weeks, about once a week, I've been driving to the local grocery/gas station, who has air for free (I know, what a novel idea, huh? Free Air) and airing my tire. Over the last week though, I've had to air my tire ever other day. And then today, the air that I had just put in last night was clearly gone by mid-day. Now, my tire looks flat. So, my husband called around and got what sounded like a good quote for a tire from a well known shop (umm... twist my arm... Firestone- where we bought the original tires). And the guy says $68. Good price, huh? Yeah. I called the guy back and asked him to specify the price of the tire after they charged to place it on my vehicle. New price- $102.00 before tax. Nice. They close at 8pm, and he advised that if I hurry over right then (5:50pm), they might be able to fit me in. The guy was pleasant, but unfazed by the fact that I was a lone woman with 2 children, who would have to sit for an unknown amount of time waiting for them to "fit me in". So, with my infant son and my 6 year old son in my car, I headed toward said care repair place, ticked that they get so much for a hmm.... tire.

On the way, I remembered a little place 2 streets from my house, where I had received excellent service many years before (and for a reasonable price). They had recently changed management, and I've not had the opportunity to experience their new service. They are a mom and pop shop, independently owned and 1/4 the size of the big shops. I pulled in their parking lot just as the clock on my radio changed from 5:59pm to 6pm. I saw that the sign on their door showed closing time to be 6pm, but the phone number was just so large on the side of the building that I decided to call and check on the price of a tire anyway- just in case I could air up and come back the next day.
The man that answered (yes, they really did answer at closing time) was very pleasant. I apologized for calling at closing time, but explained that I was in the parking lot, my tire was quite flat and that I was hoping he would quote me a new tire. Instead, with no hesitation he offered to come out to the parking lot and look at the tire. Once there, he said, "Why don't you let us just take it back real quick and take a look - just see what we can do." Of course I agreed. By then, my husband had arrived from work, and I unloaded the children into his truck. The gentlemen (and I purposefully used that term, as they were, in fact, true gentlemen) pulled my car back, having opened a bay that was closed for the day. A mechanic, who had already packed up for the day and was on his way out the door, sat on the ground and determined that there was a screw embedded in my tire. The head of the screw had long since disappeared (no doubt from weeks of my driving on it..) but he was still able (and willing) to take it out and plug it. All without complaint. All without grunting, groaning, or grimace. All for $10.

It could have been $100 for all I cared. I would have paid it. They did me a favor and never once acted like they were doing so. And when I asked for a business card, because, I said "With the service you've given me, I'd like to bring some more business your way (my hubby needs new tires)." He said, thank you ma'am. I really appreciate that." And he meant it. As though I'd done him a favor- at 6:30pm on a Wednesday night.

So, if you ever find yourself at 4724 Western Avenue in Knoxville, TN (865)558-6911, stop and say hello. Because if more people ran their businesses like Automotive Tire and Service, maybe our economy wouldn't be hurting quite as badly as it is.

2009-02-17T23:21:00.001-05:00

My dearest Jacob,
You turned 6 years old today. I am so proud of you, and all that you are. I'm proud of all that you're yet to be.
I remember the day you were born as though it were yesterday. Your Daddy looked at me and said, with tears in his eyes, "how is it possible to love someone so much, who we've never known at all?" How indeed. And today, as you turn yet another year older, I ask myself how it's possible to love you any more today, than I did yesterday. Yet I do. You simply fill my heart with all that is good.
Tonight we sat at your favorite restaurant and laughed. And again I thought of when you were born. I looked in your eyes then and tried to imagine you as a little boy, then, as a grown man. Tonight you looked at me with those eyes and smiled. Without a single word, you smiled and hugged me. Then you said, "Thanks, Mom."
I looked at our family, sitting at the table. There was Daddy, Little Brother James, and you.
I sighed contently and thought, "How blessed am I?"
And I just looked back at you, hugged you and said, "No, Jacob. Thank you."

So, my boy, in the years ahead, when the hustle and bustle of life has you down, I hope you can take these words and be reminded of how very much you are loved. Remember Son, that when God gave you to me, my life changed forever. I became a mom that day. Not just any mom; your mom. And that may very well have been the best day of my life.

Happy Birthday, Jacob. I love you.

Bad choices and oversensitivity

2009-01-28T08:27:00.002-05:00

Well.. I'm not oblivious to the fact that I've made some bad choices in my lifetime. Plain and simple. No excuses, not even any regrets really, just basic bad choices. Sometimes my choices weren't really that bad, but the ramifications from them were. When I feel as though my closest friends judge me for those decisions I've made, I go on the defensive.

Many who know me will tell you that I'm overly sensitive. And I guess, for all that makes sense in the world, that I am. But I value me as a person. I like who I am for the most part and all that I've become. So, today, when someone said that I was "f...'d up", yeah, I was more than a little upset. Yeah, I took it personally. Partly because at the time I was sharing something of mine that I consider to be somewhat private and close to me (this blog) and partly because it was just plain rude and insensitive. It was not said in a joking manner, and while I was told it should be considered sarcasm, well, I can just do without that kind of sarcasm, thank you.

Here's what it all comes down to, and I'm realizing it just as I type. Trust me. Trust in me. Trust in my common sense. Trust in my choices. And don't judge me. I get a little sensitive when you do that.

Rain

2009-01-27T16:41:00.002-05:00

It's raining outside. Again. Don't get me wrong; there's nothing wrong with rain. I'm just tired of the rain. It's the end of January and I just want a fabulous snow!

Just today, I was telling an old friend of mine how much I miss the snow in New Hampshire. I lived there for 15 years, and I swear I think they cancelled school fewer times than I can count on both hands. Really. Now, I won't go into how frustrating it is here in Tennessee that as soon as the weatherman hints at snow or ice, the schools are cancelled. Really. No Joke. The schools are cancelled (sometimes the night before) and the grocery stores are wiped clean of bottled water, bread and milk. I've never seen anything like it before. But I won't go into that. It really stinks though, I'll tell you. When we lived in New Hampshire, there could be a whiteout, a nor' east er, whatever, and we still stood on the corner and waited for the school bus. All without a coat or hat on because it wasn't cool to wear a hat or coat in sub degree weather. So we didn't.

Ahh... those were the days.

I remember in college- as soon as it turned 49.5 degrees everyone on campus donned their shorts. Darn! It was warm, right? Now, here in Tennessee, they actually cancel schools because it's too cold. Oops. I'm not going into that. But they do! But I'm not going into that.

So back to my original point. I miss the snow. I miss the excitement and mind numbing adrenaline rush that comes with driving the back roads of Amherst, NH, knowing that just below the 2 inches of white covered road, lies a thich sheet of ice. I miss pulling huge icecicles off the sides of buildings (no offense to the woman who just got hit by one in Massachusettes). I miss watching little dogs disappear into the front yard that no longer exsists, only to become one with the foot of snow that is now covering them. And I miss the peace. Yes, I said peace. I miss going out, in the small town that wasn't a city, where it was quiet even if you had neighbors, and just watching the snow fall and listening to the silence. The cold crisp silence.

I can't do that here.

But I won't go into that.

Sick Babies

2009-01-23T16:10:00.005-05:00

Ok. I can't believe I'm about to do this, but I'm going to write a blog about why it's such a pain that my child looks like this. Yup. That's right. Complaining about my happy child. See the picture? That's James- on RSV. My sick child. This is what he looks like.

It was the same for my older Son. Happy as can be. This photo was taken the morning after we took a trip to the ER because his RSV was so bad. Part of me wants to thank God that I'm so blessed to have truly happy children. The other part of me just wishes that every once in a while, they would act like they're sick when they're sick. Why? Why in the world could I wish such a thing you ask? Well, first, because when they really are sick, I frequently have no idea. Really. I've always assumed that if my child is a limp noodle and has a fever, he's sick. And along the same lines, if they look like the above photo, they're happy and healthy. Wrong. My oldest son had frequent severe ear infections, and never once had a fever or cried from the pain of it. It was by chance that I found them out!

So, here I am with my sick baby laughing and smiling. Lucky aren't I? Well, sure, except that I can't get him to settle down and rest in a way I think it critical to his recuperation. Just last night, at 11pm, he had no interest in sleeping, and instead, lay with me on my bed, laughing and playing with us. At that moment, I started to stop and complain about how tired I was and how I wish he'd just settle down and rest. He needs his rest. Then he smiled at me, just like he did in this photo, only at me and the world stopped for a moment and it didn't matter that it was 11. It didn't matter that he was sick. At that moment, all he was- was mine. And me? I stopped complaining and thanked God for my little bundle of joy.

Really, God?

2009-01-19T13:25:00.004-05:00

OK. Now I'm not one who questions God. If you don't already know that about me, you should. I just don't question him or his motives. I just accept. Period. But today, I looked toward the heavens and asked, "Really, God? Are we really doing this today? Really?"
James has RSV.
Yes.
Really.
So, after receiving the fabulous diagnosis, I walked out of the doctor's office and took a deep breath. I must say though, that I believe my older son was the test run. He too had RSV at about this age. While I didn't quite panic back then, I was still nervous and anxious about what the diagnosis would mean. Luckily because I'm anal retentive and think that for the $15 co-pay, I should take my kids to see the doctor if anything seems off, neither of them needed the breathing treatments or hospitalization. With James though, because I had said practice run, I'm much more calm and comfortable.
Oh.
I see.
RSV huh?
Well, that's nice.
Okee Dokee.. yes well, you have a nice day too.
(I'm sure the doctor either thinks that I am absolutely out of my mind or that I'm just some awful, terrible mother who doesn't give two hoots about my son. Neither of which is actually the case. OK. Well, I'm not a terrible mother anyway...)

I would be remiss if I didn't mention that my friend, JMS and I were at work this morning (prior to James' appointment) and she handed me her Ipod. She had recorded (hmm.. is that the correct terminology or am I dating myself?) a song by Depeche Mode. It's called Blasphemous Rumors and the line in it says:
"I don't want to start any blasphemous rumours but I think that God's got a sick sense of humor and when I die I expect to find Him laughing" Now, mind you, I don't really think that God's up there laughing at my misfortune, but one cannot ignore the irony of the moment.

One last bit of irony- because of the RSV, I have to wait a week before I can lay Little Bit on his tummy to sleep. He'll be exactly 4 months old. Hmph. Maybe this is just God's way of giving me a week to get used to the idea! Hehe.. See, who's laughing now?

JMS, Babies, and my addiction to Facebook

2009-01-17T20:11:00.002-05:00

Ok. Well, once again I'm posting because one of my best friends, JMS, prodded me. In reality, she's just nagged me enough to where I feel guilty for not posting since October. So as always, for you JMS, I post!

First, I must say that I love being a mom. Plain and simple. I always knew I wanted to have children, but that was just it. I wanted to have children. I never said, "ahh.. I really want to be a mom when I grow up." But as much as I love having children, I absolutely love being a mom. (Did I already say that?) And you know what, I think I'm a pretty good mom. And I'm a better mom just because my husband is such a good dad. Together our kids are loved. They are happy. They are beautiful. Oh and they're alive. We've kept them alive! Yeah!!! Sorry.. Seriously, I cannot imagine my life without my family, and I thank God every day for it.

Now, one to my newest past time: Facebook. I have to start last year, when I first signed up to My Space. I thought it was wonderful that I could hook up with old friends. And it was. But there weren't many there. Then, a few months ago, I got this idea to try Facebook. It's kind of like HD television and DVR. I wonder how in the world I ever lived without it. As much as I'd like to say I'm joking, I'm sort of not. My husband has now accepted the fact that I'm addicted to it, and that on occasion, I might look up from the computer to pay him some attention! (NO, not really!) I have a few points to make related to my FB addiction, so bear with me- this may be a long post. (You asked for it JMS!)

I couldn't believe it when I first signed on and there were so many names from the past there! I now have over 100 "friends". Some (less than 10) are from my now life. People I see and talk to every day. The rest are people that knew from way back when. A portion of them are from my previous years in New Hampshire. Some are from nearly 20 years ago, when I lived in Ohio. Truly, I've not seen or talked to these people in 20 years. I have to admit that my feelings about some of these "friends" are mixed. Several of the friends are people who I hung with when we were kids and just lost touch with as we grew older. Others were not. Honestly put, some of these people were just plain mean to me 20 years ago. (yes, you know who you are.) And now, they "talk" to me as though those days never existed. As though they never made fun of me. As though they never told me to get lost, pulled my hair or called me names. I remember it all. Part of me is just fascinated to see how much these people have changed. To see that, for the most part, we are now all on a level playing field. And sometimes I think that I'm just sickly attracted to the idea that they don't make fun of me any more. Either way, I'm a grown adult who thinks that there's good in all of us. Even the ones who were mean to me when we were children. And I've also grown to believe that we lose too many loved ones in our lives; life is too short not to try and make new friends when we can.

So on to my second point. If you know me well enough to read this, then you probably know that my 3 month old is going through some medical issues. For reasons unknown to me, I felt very comfortable posting information regarding Little Bit's situation on Facebook. I have been overwhelmed by the response. It has been amazing. When my children were born, my husband and I asked how is it possible to love someone so much who we don't yet know? I feel similar with regard to my Facebook "friends". They may not know me anymore, but that hasn't stopped them from being so very supportive. I have received emails and posts from so many of them- even those who weren't nice to me back then. It's given me such hope for things. I mean, really, these people don't know me. But they care. I feel that. They really do care. They have put me and my child in their prayers. Those who know me today know how I feel- "everything happens for a reason." If nothing else, I believe that Facebook has brought me to a place where I can settle with my past and find extra strength for my future.

So if you're reading this, and you're one of the many who have shown me this kind support- thank you.
Thanks for being my "friend".

Live your best life

2008-10-29T09:48:00.005-04:00

It isn't very often that a person's life is changed in mid stream. That something incidental will be seen or heard, and just by being, has a profound effect on the life of another. I've always believed that everything happens for a reason, and yesterday two things happened that just really changed my life. I'm not really sure exactly how just yet, I just know that it's changed.
Let me back up a bit. Yesterday, I was at home with my son, who is now almost 4 weeks old. He's perfect. Gaining weight and smiling at things other than gas, he really is the picture of perfection in my eyes. Yet my husband and I continue to complain that he won't sleep enough at night. ha.
So on a whim, while feeding Little Brother, I watched Oprah. Really, I had nothing better to do. And it has changed my life. I won't go into detail just yet, except to say that when it was over, both my husband and I were in tears, and realizing how selfish we'd been in our recent complaints of sleepless nights. If only we'd known.... I've attached the link at the bottom of this entry,titled 99 Balloons. After you've read this (and only after you've read it), please take a moment to watch the video that has turned me into this blubbering sap.
So, as yesterday progressed, I put all of my new found emotion into the back of my mind, and then, later, I read my friend Gs blog. Now mind you, I read her blog every day. I live, in a sense, to read Gs heartfelt ramblings about her latest Friday nights, or about DD, the man she'll never learn to stop loving. I live vicariously through her. But on this particular day, there was no talk of stupid men or rants about her latest work day. No, yesterday, she wrote merely of 12 things that make her smile. She spoke of taking a moment to realize what really is important in life and appreciating it for what it is. I knew then that I would make this entry. I hope that you understand.
I cannot tell you why I feel the way I do about all of this. Maybe you'll get it, maybe you won't. Either way, know that when I saw 99 Balloons, I wanted more for myself. I felt shameful for my selfishness and joy at my blessings.
Don't watch this video at work. It's the best advise I can give you. If you still insist on doing so, just know that I warned you. It is full of love, hope and selflessness. When the mother in this video was asked how she lived every day, she replied, "I said to myself- today's not the day to be sad. I can be sad another day. Today, I'm just going to be happy with what is. Maybe tomorrow I'll be sad, but not today."
So, there you have it. Take a moment to watch this. Then spend a moment and take stock in your life. Then live it the best that you can.

99 Balloons- click here

My Cup Runneth Over: Another Big Day!

2008-10-09T23:28:00.013-04:00

Well, at my dear friend's prodding (yes JMS, I'm referring to you!) I'm sitting to post about the birth of my son, who I'll call Little brother. He was finally gifted to us on Thursday, October 2nd at 9:06am. He weighed in at 9lbs, 6oz and 19.5 inches long. Needless to say, Big Brother is in awe of him, and is um, well... let's just say... very helpful. Mostly, he's just proud to be Big Brother!
The birthing process was fine. I had a C-section that was mostly uneventful. I'd take it any day over the process I endured when having Big Brother. This time, aside from having some difficulty with the epidural (they weren't able to "find the space"- twice).. they ended up giving me a spinal block- twice, which caused me to vomit violently during the entire procedure- it was a little bit of heaven. Little brother had a minor setback after birth, and had some bad white cells - they call them "bands"- that caused him not to eat well and to drop down to 8lbs 4 oz in only 3 days. To alleviate risk of too great a loss, they tubed him, and fed him through the tube in his nose for the first few days.

He was simply beautiful- is still. Of course, now he's 16 days old. He looks just like his father. I love it! It's taken a bit of adjustment at home. The C-section does take a little more out of me than I expected- even more than I actually feel at times. But at the end of the day, I feel it in a big way and find that I simply cannot function. Hubby has been good to take a day off from work here or there. He took the first week off, but after his return from work, he's been here as needed. I'm so blessed in that sense. I'm fully aware of all the women out there who have little to no support from their spouses at all. It really just doesn't occur to them to care enough to help out their wives. Me, I'm the lucky one. My husband will stay up all night and then go to work for a normal day, just so he can "help out" as much as possible. I really am fortunate. And I'm ashamed to say that sometimes I've had no choice but to take him up on his offer and selfishly sleep through the night while he suffers through another sleepless night. I keep thinking that I'll wake up tomorrow and feel 100%. I have a sinking suspicion that it's going to take longer than I'm willing to admit to get back up to par. Oh well.. enough about me.
Having a 2nd child is definitely an experience. And it's one that I wouldn't trade for anything in the world. I keep looking at them thinking "the kids. I'm now a mother of the kids". I have to continuously remind myself that if referring to "my son" I now have to specify which son I'm speaking of! How great is that? I couldn't ask for anything more. One of my favorite lines from the movie Hope Floats, comes to mind: "MY CUP RUNNETH OVER"
What more could I possibly ask for in life?

The Day Has Arrived!

2008-08-14T12:54:00.010-04:00

Big Brother started Kindergarten today! I'm so very proud of him! He's very excited and seemed right at home. For me, it's a huge step; for him simply another day, another new adventure. I managed not to cry, but was sure I would throw up from the turmoil occurring in my stomach (and not some caused by Little Bit.) Really though, Hubby and I dropped Big Brother off this morning and aside from it being earlier than he was used to, he was bright eyed and just taking it all in. As we drove in the parking lot, he said, "See Mom, there's the school." Then he grinned really big and said, "Myyyy school." He feels like such a big boy, and I just know he'll do great.

It's been a busy week, and my brain isn't all together, as you can tell by this disconnected post. I'm going now, but didn't want to pass up the opportunity to say how proud I am of my new Kindergartener!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CJ!!!!

2008-07-31T18:38:00.002-04:00

Today's my best friend's birthday! I haven't got the first clue how hold she is, nor does it really matter in our relationship. She has blessed my life for over 10 years now and I cannot imagine life without her. For those of you who don't know, I first met CJ when I was dating her brother. When that didn't work out (thanks to CJ herself, and a few choice words) I was lucky enough to have her there. She needed me, I needed her. Each of us showed the other how to live. Now, over 10 years later, we live over 1,000 miles apart, and don't even see each other every year. But I know she's there. She knows I'm here. And as each of us have grown over the years, we've remained the truest of friends.
So Cindy, this post is dedicated to you- the strongest, most faithful and true woman I know. Thank you for being all that you have been to me. I thank God for you. Happy Birthday, friend!

My Baby and Kindergarten

2008-07-30T18:09:00.006-04:00

My son starts Kindergarten in 2 weeks. OK... let me re-word that. My heart says, "my baby starts Kindergarten in two weeks." (yes, that's him- 5 years ago!) I cannot believe it! And boy am I in for a shocker. I was finally provided the supplies list. OH YES.. the supplies list. Now, may I remind you that Big Brother will be attending a private school. Interpreted: Big Brother will be going to a school where I am paying a large monthly fee for him to go. OK. So.. The large monthly fee doesn't cover the price of things like Kleenex, wet wipes or hand sanitizer. (because God knows how we ever got along without hand sanitizer in the classroom!) Hmph. We also get to purchase poster board, pens, pencils and other things in mass qty so that the class can share. Hmph. Now I don't want you to think that I'm not empathetic to the plight of the teachers. I'm not. And I certainly don't expect them to foot the bill for this type of thing. But I do expect the school to pay for basic necessities! I half expect the next, updated list of required sundries to include toilet paper and bottled water. Oh, I shouldn't complain about all of this. I'm excited to think that Big Brother is going to be getting a good, quality education. I can't wait to see him excel. And I really do think he's going to do great!

Little Brother is coming along nicely. I'm finally in my 29th week and I started gaining my first bit of weight. I am now at 10 lbs. He kicks right on time every day and I'm beginning to think that his nightly routine lulls me to sleep! Physically, I'm feeling pretty good now-a-days. Mentally, I'm a wreck. It's nice though to be able to blame all emotional swings right now on hormones. Mostly, I'm fully aware of my mood at any given time, I'm just sick of stupid people.
We finished Big Brother's new bedroom last week, and he's now the proud owner of a Chicago Cubs room. He loves it and has adjusted fabulously. I really don't give him enough credit, and am always worried that every little bit of change is going to be some huge adjustment. He continues to prove me wrong- you'd think I'd learn! Now we need to get started on the nursery and I'll feel like just about everything is falling into place...

From my favorite contemporary poet: Javan

2008-07-24T20:35:00.002-04:00

Sometimes we have something

Without truly knowing

What we have

Sometimes we hold something

without knowing completely

What we hold

sometimes we are given something

Without fully appreciating

What we are given

But that knowledge usually comes

When we realize

What we have lost

Time

2008-07-21T14:04:00.003-04:00

I know it's really sad when I take so long between blogs that I have to do a password request just to remember how to get in and update the blog! Ha... can't help it, just can't make it the priority that so many others do!
Well, I'm in my third trimester. That's hard to believe! This pregnancy hasn't been quite so pleasant as the first, but I can't say that I mind. It's all worth it. And has me thinking that maybe a third isn't such a bad thing. My God, I think I'm addicted to pregnancy! Seriously, you know- some people love the rush from a good tattoo, me, I just need a kid or two, and I'll be pacified.
I'm in an odd mood today. Happy, yet volatile. Does that make sense? In other words, I'm in a great mood, but I just dare you to make me mad!
My parents, who have been on a cross country road trip for the last two months have arrived home and I couldn't be happier. I'm so glad that they seem to have had the time of their lives, but I can't help but selfishly be relieved and elated that they're back home safe and sound. Now they live 50 miles away, and while I don't see them all the time, and still talked to them on cell phone every day- even when they're in Wyoming and Nebraska and New Mexico. But there's just something comforting in knowing that they're home. That if I did just want to stop and go to them, they're there. I live for that. And I know that it won't always be the case, but for now, I'll take advantage of it. (I'm reading over this, by the way, thinking "what it the world is that? a fragmented sentence?) Sorry to all of you fellow English majors- I'm not changing it!

I miss blogging. I'll be back for more later!

Being Angry With God- A Walk to Remember

2008-06-04T12:21:00.005-04:00

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

2008-06-02T13:20:00.003-04:00

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

2008-06-01T09:13:00.003-04:00

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?

Stupid People

2008-02-26T11:45:00.004-05:00

OK, so if you know anything about me, you know that one of my greatest pet peeves is stupid people. I have always said that stupid people just make me mad. The stupid things that stupid people do make me mad. So, can you tell that said stupid person has just really ... yeah.. you know.
My girlfriend Neena, used to have a sign on her desk that said "refuse to be stupid". I loved that sign. It reminded me every day that I have a choice as to whether or not to be stupid at any given time.

So, clearly my hormones are working overtime today, because I know that what has aggravated me really is not that big of a deal. I value my time. I like to think that I use my time wisely and when something is set in place on a regular basis- in a company calendar, then tell me why that should suddenly, one day, be disregarded? It just so happened that I had a scheduled appointment during my scheduled lunch hour, and someone that I work with (we can't both be gone at the same time) just up and decided they'd be going to lunch at that time. Period. Point closed. Without any consideration that the sudden change in the norm might actually affect someone. Hmph. See. I can read this and know that it's not a big deal. I think what really rubbed me the wrong way is that the person just doesn't care. Suddenly I'm the meanie for thinking that there's a problem with it in the first place and asking that in the future, she tell me if she'd like to change my plans for me.

ahhh.... somehow all of this hateful writing isn't helping me any. I smiled and said to keep her plans, that I would change mine, so now, I'm not only a hormonal pregnant woman, but I'm also a hungry woman.

And everyone knows not to mess with a hungry pregnant woman.

'Belle or Izzy. Izzy or 'Belle

2008-02-21T13:28:00.005-05:00

It just occurred to me that I started a list of things that have been going on in my life lately and never made it past the first item. Leave it to me to ramble so much that I never actually get to the point. (See, here I go again.)
OK, so, point 2. I'm pregnant. Of course, most of you who are reading this already know that. I'm in my 7th week and still haven't been for an ultrasound. With Jake, I had them as early as 4 weeks, so not having had one yet is driving me up a wall. All in good time. I've been so, so fortunate that I'm having very few symptoms. I'm not nauseous at all. I'm moderately tired. I am already starting to round in the middle. ( I like to say that my two rolls are just connecting.) I don't mind that so much, except that I've been working so hard over the last few months to try and lose weight that I suddenly feel like I'm the walking marshmallow man from the GhostBuster's movie. I'm hoping that good old Mother Nature decides she's had enough of winter, because my pants are about ready to pop at the waist, so I, being the tight-wad that I am, really don't want to have to buy winter pants just in time for summer to come around.
Oh. and then there are my boobs. (Believe me. I tried 15 different ways to write that without actually coming out and saying it, but there really is no way to say that without just spitting it out.) So- Boobs. Yes, they definitely know that I'm pregnant. If I'd listened to them, they'd have known a month ago. Unfortunately, because I have had a child previously, they know it about 10 inches lower than where they knew it last time. Really!! Oh well... Ahh... to be a mommy.
Now, to the title of the blog. As those who know me already know, we have one son. While I would be delighted with any happy, healthy child, I would love to have a little girl. If we do have a girl, we'd like to name her Isabella Grace. (I wanted Isabella Rose but hubby thinks that sounds too old.) I think my husband is leaning toward Frank Robert if it's a boy. Or James Robert, but I'm not sure. We are going to find out, but are not going to let anyone else know until the baby is born. Fun for us. And I figure it will be fun for you too, trying to bribe it out of me with promises of Mellow Mushroom Pizza (bacon w/xtra-cheese), Chocolate covered cherries and fresh, cold cantaloupe on a bed of cottage cheese. (Now that's not a hint as to my favorite things, with which one might be able to find out the gender of our child, merely a what-if list of things I happen to like!) Hehe.
Really, we're excited about this and can't wait for Jacob to have the opportunity to show what a wonderful brother he'll be. We haven't told him yet- that will be in a week or so after the ultrasound that the assurance that everything's OK so far, but I'll keep you posted!!
In the mean time, do tell. Would you call a child named Isabella "Belle" or "Izzy"?

Scolding from JS

2008-02-20T15:49:00.005-05:00

So I opened my email account yesterday to find a gentle but stern reminder from JS that while she enjoys reading about Walker and the sewer fog, it's time to move on. OK, OK, I get it. I'm really, really, really bad at keeping up with my blog. But so much has been going on. HM. Where to start.

OK, first and perhaps most important- my baby (he'll always be my baby) turned 5 years old this weekend. I think I'm in denial. This past week, I turned in an application for him to attend a private school this coming year. It's funny. My child has depended on us, his parents, since the day he was born, to live- to stay alive. And while this has seemed like a somewhat monumental responsibility, it is one that I have managed to comfortably endure. I mean, it really doesn't make me too uncomfortable. But handing over an application to someone I don't know, thinking that what I wrote or didn't write might make the difference.. ugh. Well, let's just say I was holding my breath. And then, as if that weren't enough, the very pleasant lady behind the calendar advised me that the next step was to schedule a time for my child to meet with the principal. Now mind you, this is quite a popular school and I am amazed and pleased that the principal meets with each and every child that applies to go there. Jacob will surely impress her with his mind. I was smiling at the thought of it. That was until she said that we would also need to schedule a time for me and my husband to come in for our interview too. WHAT? Oh my. That's it. My kid doesn't stand a chance now.
Seriously. We're talking about the principal of a private christian school interviewing me. ME. The one who told her niece "you know. Mary. Jesus' wife." Yeash. I said it. In a moment of absolute and utter stupidity I said it. Yes. I know that Mary is not Jesus' wife. Thank God I didn't say it to Jacob, or I'm sure he'd educate her on that experience.
As you can probably tell just by reading this, I'm not coping with the idea of making it or breaking it for my kid. Someone keeps telling me though, that it's all in God's plan and that if that's where Jake's meant to be then it's where he'll be. I believe that too, I do. But I also believe that it still won't stop me from making a complete fool of myself in front of this lady.
Oh well. I'll smile pretty and make nice, hope that my husband doesn't tell the poor woman that he's really a Catholic, and just pray that Jake will save us all!

Walker Texas Ranger

2008-01-24T20:39:00.000-05:00

So, right now, I'm sitting in my parent's living room, watching my father's all-time favorite he man show. You guessed it- Walker, Texas Ranger. Wow. He's just so sexy. Um no, no. No, he's really not. There's nothing sexy about that. Not even the massive belt buckle and the days before botox could make that man sexy. This particular episode has the Ranger in a coma and therefor incapacitated, so they're spending the entire episode looking back on all the spectacular saves that said he man accomplished. Right now he's back 20 years and kung fooing 10 villains all at once, while all of the police officers watch in utter amazement. Fade in the sewer fog. Yes, I said sewer fog. He sticks his chest out, grabs hold of his belt buckle and walks away through the sewer fog. Now, that's sexy. I mean radiating hot, stinky (thanks to the sewer fog) sexiness.

Oh my God. Until I saw this, I actually thought that the Hallmark channel, with all of it's mushy mushy movies was amongst my favorites. Hmmm... not so much. There's something about a 120 lb man wearing a hat that's bigger than he is that just turns me off. Yet, I continue to look up from typing this post, just on the off chance that I might miss something. OH MY GOD... he man just kissed a lady. eeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww all the romance of a snail sliding across the sidewalk.

No seriously, I'm just kidding. (not really, but it's the only bridge I could think of to progress into some other, less stimulating conversation.) OH MY... you guessed it!! although this time my OMG is thanks to the woman that just walked into the picture with a hairdo bigger than any of the cowboy hats! And bigger even still was the cellphone that the bad guy was using to call.. oh, I don't know, maybe the hairstylist.

My dad, to whom I am reading this post aloud, is taking it personally that I am making fun of Walker Texas Ranger. He quickly reminds me that my hair used to be that big too. Did he really send me to college so that I could make fun of Walker? My husband, quick to suck up whenever the opportunity presents itself, concurs that I should not make fun of the fuzzy faced ranger. So Mr. Ranger, I am sorry for making fun of you. You really are the only man I know that can kung fu an entire room of big burly men and not even blink!

Seriously though Ranger, lay off the botox!

2006-07-12T12:55:00.001-04:00

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Well, I've come to accept that there's no way that I can be quite as dedicated to this blog as JMS is, but hey, I figure I'll keep it up as best I can!Speaking of JMS, I have been remiss in thanking JMS for acknowledging my birthday. I realize with each passing day how very lucky I am to have met her. There are some mornings, when passing J in the hallway at work, when she looks at me, says "hey, how's it going?" All I have to do is look at her (sometimes adding my version of a grunt) and she responds, "yeah.. me too.." or "aww.. I'm sorry.." Either way, no matter what she says, I always feel validated in how I'm feeling at that moment. I think that I could whine, "well, my feet hurt, I gotta pee, my favorite dog died, there's a swarm of bees up my pants" and she'd respond in a way that leaves me walking away thinking... "ahh.. isn't it nice to know someone cares?"Ok , so that brings me to my real point (because, don't I always have one?)One of my other very best friends once told me that all a woman wants is to know that her feelings- no matter how rational- have been validated. In plain English, whether anyone really does or not, we just want to know that they care enough to listen to us and make us feel important at that moment. Note to all men listening- this does not mean "mm.. uuhh.. huh. ** burp* snort*.. huhuh... oh.. what honey? did you say bees in your pants" nopee... not working! I've determined that having the art of validation is a born talent and not something that can be learned. You either care how people feel, or you don't. Period.I have another friend (wow.. did you catch that, I'm up to 3 friends now?!) who could care less when it really matters, but then expects kudos for trying to act like he cares later. Now why is that supposed to be of benefit to anyone? Again, either you care or you don't.Unfortunately for me, Somewhere in the last 4 years, I've lost the ability to fake it! SSSSOOOOO>... to the real point behind all of this, the nicest part of my life right now is that I don't have to fake- in fact probably couldn't get away with it- if I tried. JMS just knows me the way I am, and for who I am - no questions asked. She just takes it - or me- for what it is.So, my dear friend JMS, this message is directed specifically to you:Thank you for the gift of unconditional friendship the you offer to me everyday. You asked me what special gift you could give me for my birthday. You gave me the best present you could ever give me, and you never even knew it!

2006-06-27T12:55:00.001-04:00

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Old and self pitiful!
Well, it's been so long since I posted I figured I owed it to myself to sit back down and go to it. my Kiddo (as Jenn would so aptly put it) is sick and hubby (again, to borrow from Jen) is irritated by it all. (Meaning moody child and mourning wife). But seeing everyone else in such a mood is making me quite happy! Sick in some kind of way, is it not? Yup... me myself and I will be the big 32 in less than 2 weeks, and I'm more excited over it than anyone else.I can't seem to get anyone to be as excited over my day as I am!At first, I thought, maybe a bar-b-q at my house. But then, I had an epiphany, as it occurred to me that I would then be the one entertaining and cleaning a house to make it presentable, and why in God's name would I want to do that? So then I thought maybe a night out with just a few friends. Hmm... nope.. too quiet. (I think maybe I'm afraid of too much quiet this year).I think it all comes back to the fact that I'm alive. I spent my last birthday putting someone in the ground who wasn't and darn it, I want to FEEL alive- even if it's just for that one night! Why doesn't anyone seem to give a rat's patootee? Because, Kay, you're wallowing in your own selfishness, you're in an adult world now, where people work on their birthdays and are lucky if just one person remembers.OK.. so here's the thing. I love birthdays. Anyone's birthday. I always have. And usually, I get extreme pleasure by celebrating for them. Planning their day, seeing their smiling face- knowing that one person cared enough. Never before have I wanted it for myself. This year I do, and well... I think I'll be sitting at home, sipping the iced tea in my big leather easy chair, with my kiddo in my lap, watching my neighbor's pirated version of CARS for the 50th time. And in the end, I'll probably love every minute of it and never remember that there was no party!

2006-06-05T12:45:00.000-04:00

Monday, June 05, 2006

Time to Ponder
One thing you'll learn about me, as you read my daily thoughts, is that the more emotionally driven they are, the longer they take me to spit out. Really. I guess that the thoughts exhaust me to a level where I just don't want to take any time to express them out loud. So what is it this time?My sister's birthday was Saturday. Or it would have been anyway. She was born on June 3, 1973. She would have been 33. I hadn't spoken to her in 6 years.She died just last year on June 25 (see, being the manically emotional woman that I am, I'll stew on all of this for 3 weeks. ) Amy, my sister, brought our family more hard times than you'd ever see on the Facts of Life, Beverly Hills 90210, or Law and Order combined. She used and sold drugs, prostituted herself, and left her precious daughter for my family to raise as an infant. She once stole money from me on Christmas, (and subsequently spent it). She caused physical pain to both me and my parents and she watched a neighbor die on her kitchen of a drug overdose.But she was still my sister.I still remember a day when she was unaffected. I've always thought back to those days in an attempt to make the choices she made somehow easier to accept. Knowing that she might someday make different choices....With her death came the reality that she'll never make those choices. Her life will never be any easier. And those who know nothing but the pain she caused us cannot fathom why her death doesn't bring us some kind of peace. Why, every time we relive the good memories, we hurt inside with a pain that we find so hard to put into words that others can understand.Why, after all these years, we'd give anything just to be able to wish her a Happy Birthday.And we'd give even more to see her live it.Happy Birthday, Amy. We loved you even when.

2006-06-01T12:44:00.000-04:00

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Overwhelmed and going crazy
Wow. So this whole blog thing is overwhelming to me, but absolutely has me mezmorized. To realize that anyone has as many thoughts that they can put down is surprising to me. I mean really. I have barely enough time in the course of a day to pee, where does one find enough time to actually sit down and put thought to key? The answer is found in the fact that it really is just random ramble and that putting that kind of thought process down takes very little time at all. My son, who is now three understands this concept perfectly. The one of random ramble I mean. In the course of 3 minutes tonight, I found out that "I don't wanna pee. You brought me cookies mommy? Tyrone hit my face with a big toy and it hurt and I cried and now he's not my friend. I want to be that when I grow up (referring to the proverbial spelling bee champ, who's spelling a word that I didn't ever imagine exsisted.) I gave the fish part of my chocolate chip cookie. I turned the bamboo plant over. Hey, can I have a drink of dat coke?" Ok, so it was more like 1 minute. But it still made me take stock in my life and laugh hysterically at how magical that 1 minute really is, coming from the mouth of a babe. That he can even process all of that in one minute should be verification of his genious status.That my husband then looks up from his computer, not having heard a word and says , "huh?" is a testament to his adult lack of adventure.See, here's my point. The blogs simply take us back to our childhood. They make it OK to ramble on about whatever's on our mind, assuming that it's important to someone other than us, but oblivious to the fact that it really probably isn't. Somehow though, as an adult, it's a feeling of freedom that I've not experienced for a very long time.So that's it for me. My son did pee, ate only one of the cookies that I brought him, giggled when I kissed the Tyrone-induced booboo on his face, screamed everytime the speller said "T". The fish tank has been cleaned for the 3rd time this week (my fish look like they're stoned), the bamboo plant turned upright, and the caffeine riddled coca-cola has settled itself into my son's bloodstream- just as my husband is taking him to bed.ahh... life is good.