Confessions of a Compulsive Meddler Do-Gooder

When I graduated from high school I wanted to become a psychiatrist. Generally, I'm a person people feel safe sharing their secrets with, a never-met-a-stranger type, the kind who start conversations in the check-out line or the waiting room. Although sometimes naive and a little heavier on book smarts than common sense, I tend to be a problem solver by nature.

Sometimes my desire to fix things creates interesting results, like when other customers at Ross ask me questions. Since I'm the one picking up and rehanging clothes from off the floor while the actual employees sit by the dressing room and look disdainfully at shoppers who emerge from the dressing room for the third time without finding a pair of jeans that fit (a hypothetical situation, of course), it's an honest mistake.

Yesterday my fix-it tendencies combined with general lack of social inhibition almost got the best of me. I was in the parking lot at Wal-Mart when I saw a couple pull their cart, loaded with a brand new Sanyo TV, up to their car. First the man tried to load the TV in the back seat, but it was just too big. Then he tried the trunk. No dice. That's when I thought, "Wait! I can help!" My van, the 15-passenger model most often seen as church buses or cargo vans, can haul a sleeper sofa or a queen-size mattress, box springs, frame, and headboard.

At this point the man rips open the box and his wife starts pulling out the Styrofoam packing. Before you know it the TV has been loaded in the back seat, the box is left behind in the cart, and they drive away. That's when I started getting tickled thinking about my first impulse: that "I can fix it" moment. Can you just imagine me going up to these people saying, "I know you don't know me, but would you like me to load up your nice new TV--the one you just purchased with your tax refund--and transport it to your secluded home on the outskirts of town surrounded by woods and large barking dogs? Trust me. I'm here to help."

I think I need a keeper.

this time I'm serious

After just announcing my standing as "Unchallenged Winner of the Influential No Award Award," I received a comment tonight telling me that my recent post, The Greatest Job in the World, has been nominated for a Hot Stuff Award at GNMParents, and that voting closes this Thursday. Cool, huh?

I want to state for the record that my "Unchallenged Winner of the Influential No Award Award" was 100% poking fun at myself and not at the nominees and winners of any of the recent blogging contests. Some of those people are my dearest blogging buddies, whom I wouldn't offend for the world. Also, No Cool Story--who should receive some kind of award for most consistently creative use of Photoshop--wrote such a sweet post and went to the trouble of making those cute little buttons; I just had to have one. I admit that there was one afternoon where every blog I visited had a post announcing their nominations and I thought, "Gee, I'm obviously not doing very well at this blogging thing." Then I thought, "Hello! I'm a 40-year-old woman with 8 kids! What's with the 8th grade moment I'm having here?" and that was the end of it.

The reason I posted almost nothing last week was twofold: first, I was still sick (I actually went to a walk-in clinic Saturday, thinking I might have strep throat; I don't); second, I saw in my sitemeter that someone had come here after doing a blog search for teen@ge boy$ (I'm scrambling this as well as I can to avoid getting a hit for that one again). I linked recently to an article with parenting advice for moms of teen sons, although the title used the word "boys" instead of "sons." I didn't click on any links, but the other blogs that the person pulled up with those search terms sounded like every mother's worst nightmare. It so sickened and upset me that I actually had a moment where I wanted to delete this blog. I checked the time and saw that this "visitor" left as soon as he arrived--obviously my little mommy blog was not what he was interested in--but I couldn't shake that horrible feeling. Tonight I changed the title on the post.

Also, I've been doing a lot of soul searching lately. That post I'll write about my mother, while going through a box of Kleenex, is still on the horizon. She was one of those people who told you exactly what she thought in no.uncertain.terms (while I stood there cringing and thinking, "Did she really say that?"). You know what? Almost universally, that quality seems to be what people loved and miss the most about her: her honesty tempered with dry wit (for those who didn't know her--if I had to compare her to a blogger, I would choose Antique Mommy, hands down). I've been told that I'm very diplomatic, which is a nice way of saying I'm tactful; I am very much the peacemaker. The thing is, there's a lot of my mother lurking beneath the surface. I just keep a lid on it for the most part.

What does that mean in terms of this blog? Looking back over the last couple of weeks, I'd say I'm posting about the things that mean the most to me: motherhood, my mother, family roots, beloved family members. I'm also unapologetically sharing a little more about who I am and what I'm all about. I started this blog because I wanted my kids to be able to look back and see what their mom had to say, a sort of memory-keeper for the next generation. Up until today, my kids would have looked and said, "Oh, puleeze! It doesn't even mention that she listens to the B@ren@ked L@dies 24 HOURS A DAY!" [Maybe that's a slight exaggeration. I don't play them during school or when I'm asleep.]

Maybe my readership will dwindle to my cousin in NYC, my aunt who just got internet access, and my cousin in Texas, since these topics could have limited appeal. That's okay. You know what my greatest bloggy moments have been lately? My cousin emailed to say how she cried over my Where I'm From, and both my aunt (my mom's sister) and my Great-Aunt Mayme called to tell me how much they enjoyed and laughed about the Aunt Mayme post. Aunt Mayme even recalled another cooking story: tossing one of her homemade biscuits to someone and cutting their forehead.

Stick around if you're up for more about the glamorous world of motherhood and my crazy/sweet/funny family!

The Greatest Job in the World

I have what some might call a fancy education. I took six years to get a four-year degree, and also married and had my first child during that time. In the months leading up to graduation, friends, family, and professors asked what I planned to do with my education. I realized, however, that more than any job, I wanted another baby. Ten months after graduation I gave birth to my second son and never looked back.

While my education helped prepare me for eventually schooling my own children, I never imagined the joys and the heartache--the gamut of emotions from sheer terror to pure bliss--inherent in the greatest job in the world. Today, just an average day, I experienced several of those moments that define motherhood.

---

Every mother who has had both a toddler and a set of stairs knows that awful sound: the thud, followed by wailing. I heard it today and I ran across the house, scared of what I would find. Lily was lying at the bottom of the stairs, scared and hurt. I sat and held her until she stopped crying, while she marked my black shirt with iridescent trails of mucous, a visible badge of motherhood. Then she snuggled in close and popped her little thumb in her mouth, content. I know it won't always be so, but I was blessed with a moment when I was all she needed to make everything better.

---

Sabra, my 10-year-old daughter, had Keepers at Home today. Sabra loves Keepers, and I'm excited she has the opportunity to learn many skills that I do not possess. I try to learn along with her, but it's interesting sometimes. Rather than a domestic goddess, Keepers at Home seems to transform me into a domestic doofus.

Today was no different as we worked on our current project, sewing a tiered skirt. I was helping Sabra at my painfully slow pace while the other mothers and daughters seemed to fly through the steps. Then it hit me: Sabra doesn't seem to notice or care that I'm not as skilled as many of the other moms. She looks at me with the adoring eyes of a daughter toward her mother, confident that I can guide her. The blind devotion of a child is truly a sacred trust, and I was humbled and honored by it.

---

After a long afternoon of Keepers and band lessons, we headed for Moe's, where on Tuesday nights we can pay for 3 adults (hubby and I plus 15-year-old son) and feed the 6 that are 12-and-under for free. The kids always want quarters for the machines. My husband told me that our 5-year-old son, Clayton, had gotten a heart ring for his prize. When asked if he was going to give it to me for Valentine's Day, Clayton had said, "Maybe, or maybe Miss Fran." Miss Fran is our dear friend who is truly a Pied Piper. Our children adore her and I've told her that even when hers are grown and gone, my younger ones will still want to spend the night at her house.

While we ate, I noticed two ladies seated close to us who seemed to observe our clan. This is not uncommon for us; that many kids attract attention. I'm not a mind-reader, but it's obvious a lot of people don't understand why anyone would have such a large family, and their attitude is not always kind. As they left, one of the ladies leaned down and spoke in my ear: "Your family is adorable. Simply precious!" I'm sure I will never see her again, but her words will not soon be forgotten. As we were leaving, Clayton smiled his heart-melting smile, one any mother of a young son knows, and said, "Happy Valentine's Day," as he placed the ring in my hand.

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When I read Proverbs 31, describing that seemingly unattainable model of female perfection, the verse that always jumps out at me is #28: "Her children arise up, and call her blessed..." That's the one I want--the one I can't attain on my own, the one that has to be given to me, undeserving though I am (much like salvation). Today I was beheld as comforter; teacher; object of blind faith, love, and affection. Though I seek to bless my children's precious lives, the truth is that they bless me immeasurably. I thank God for entrusting us with their care and putting the desire within me for motherhood, the greatest job in the world.

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This post has been submitted for consideration in the Write-Away contest for February.

spaghetti, anyone?

In spite of being sick, I just had to get out and go to church yesterday. We ordained two of my favorite men in the world (from my favorite families) as deacons. They are so special to us that they were both pallbearers at my mother's funeral. I just tried not to get too close to or breathe on anyone. My make-up was lovely; since my cold has moved into both eyes, leaving them glued together in the morning and swollen and red during the day, I was afraid to apply make-up in the usual way, not wanting to contaminate and have to throw away a perfectly good tube of mascara. If there's one thing I learned from my mother it was this: even if you feel like hell, you put yourself together the best you can. Work with what you've got, honey! So I applied eye make-up and mascara with my fingers (you're not going to find make-up tips for this anywhere since no one in their right mind would recommend it), put on my glasses (don't want to have to toss a pair of contacts, either), and thoroughly washed all my make-up brushes. I stayed home sick today, but I'm awfully glad I was there yesterday.

On the way home, my seven-year-old daughter (currently sporting an absence of front teeth) asked me a question I hear quite often, "Mommy, what do you want me to draw?"

I mentally riffled through my usual suggestions, but a girl can only draw so many butterflies, flowers, and babies. My eyes turned to the monstrosity of metal and concrete overhead, and I said, "Spaghetti junction."

Dead silence from the back seat, and then, "Uh..., could I just draw spaghetti?"

I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up

Okay, so maybe the title is a slight exaggeration, but I really like it, so there it is...

I was in Blockbuster the day before Thanksgiving, and by pure coincidence found myself in front of the fitness DVD's. I say "by coincidence" to point out that I didn't enter the store with any good intentions about getting in shape. When I was flipping through them I came across the DVD on the left, The Lotte Berk Method: muscle eats fat, which claims "healthy toned muscles will burn calories 24 hours a day - even when you are at rest!" I tell my husband that I wish I didn't require rest, that I have enough projects going at any given time to occupy me 24 hours a day, so this whole "muscles that work in your sleep" idea really appealed to me. I bought it.

[I should mention at this point that I don't tend to have weight problems, which unfortunately means I don't tend to exercise; however, I'm currently 7-8 pounds over my norm and I really don't like it. Doing something about it is a different story.]

The video is only 30 minutes long, and Lily and I just watched it the first time. It seemed fairly innocuous: no irritating music, and the instructors were pleasant and encouraging. The next morning I began.

"In 10 days you'll feel the results, in 20 days you'll see the results."
Day 1: Exhaustion. There were times when my legs were absolutely shaking from fatigue. When I was finished I slid straight into a hot bath to soak. My husband had gone jogging and I was afraid that I might collapse in the shower if I tried to stand (hence the name of this post) and there wouldn't be anyone there to rescue me.

Day 2: Fear. Arm work doesn't bother me - I've been toting babies for years - but the leg exercises were very difficult for me. The humdinger is something called knee dancing. I am convinced that at some point during this season of 24, Jack Bauer will hold a gun to someone's head and force them to knee dance in order to extract a confession.

Day 3: Stubbornness. I am nothing if not stubborn, and I was angry about that whole fear thing on the previous day. With stubbornness comes determination, which is exactly what I needed.

I'll confess that I did the workout for 5 days, but didn't integrate it into our schedule once we got back into school. I started doing it again after Christmas, and I've hit 21 days now (26 if you count those first 5). They have managed to take a small number of exercises, interspersed with serious stretching, and achieve maximum effectiveness in a short amount of time. I think it would be impossible to do this workout and not see and feel results, unless you were already in good shape. I'm sure I must look just like the picture on the video case now. I can't take a picture and find out since I don't have any of those little tiny pink shorts and I'd catch a cold in this weather just taking the picture. Maybe it's best this way. I know I'm stronger and more flexible, though.

If you're interested, you can get more information about the complete set of beginner videos through their website. Enjoy!

Tuesday, during which I learn that Monday most certainly was an anomaly

Do you ever have posts which for whatever reason go unpublished? Maybe they were never finished, maybe blogger wouldn't cooperate and upload your pictures and then you forgot to go back and publish later, whatever. I have a handful of those stray drafts floating through my Edit Posts folder, like this one, for instance, which was nothing more than a title. It started as a follow-up to this post, which I was afraid might leave you with the erroneous notion that I really had my act together, whether for real or in my own imagination. It was a halcyon day (now how many good opportunities do you get to use a word like that?), but almost as soon as I hit "Publish" God showed me that while that sort of day was possible, it wasn't probable. The next 24-hours were completely insane.

You know what I noticed? On the day when things were practically-perfect-in-every-way (Mary Poppinsesque, if you will), I didn't pray, "Lord, we're covering a whole lot of math today, but could you help us do a little more?" or "Lord, help me make this fun read-aloud just a little better." I thanked Him, but I didn't feel the need of Him the same way I did the next day, the day when everything that could go wrong did. The day that, as a friend so aptly noted, I was flying by the seat of my pants. And I realized that in a way I sort of like those days, the days when I know He's there lifting me over every hurdle (and believe me, there are plenty at times).

I'll close this with my favorite verse from the hymn "God Moves in a Mysterious Way":

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Resolved

I know the word resolution gets overused at this time of year and even holds a somewhat negative connotation for many: decisions made with good intentions, abandoned too soon, subsequently leading to disappointment. I, however, love this time of year and the fact that even acting on those worthy impulses for a limited time shows me what we are capable of doing, with a little resolve.

I have done my workout video for 12 days. [I'm supposed to "feel a difference after 10 days and see a difference after 20."] I did it for 5 days after Thanksgiving, but didn't really keep up with it after we got back into school. I am NOT a morning person - no sirree! - but I got myself up early this morning, did my workout, read my Bible and my Intellectual Devotional (in that order), and ate breakfast, all before the kids got out of bed, AND I was in full make-up 35 minutes before our official school start time of 9:00 a.m. [I told you I wasn't a morning person; with an earlier start time we would have been doomed to failure years ago.] And did I mention that I even squeezed in a quick post, too?

Our schooling went well today. I watched math videos with four different kids; had a good Russian lesson with one; finished a book about Nathan Hale with another; discussed Eratosthenes with another; and even had a fabulous and funny read-aloud session from the Book of Virtues on the couch.

To top it all off, I made the Party Potato Skins that Barb posted this weekend for supper, and they were everything that I'd imagined and then some.

Any mix of these things on an ordinary day would be amazing, but altogether on one day they are nothing short of extraordinary.

Yes, this first day of school in 2007 may be an anomaly, but it shows me what can be done and gives me a little hope for what we can accomplish in any given day, with a little resolve and a whole lot of grace.

Blessings to you and yours!

Modesty Doesn't Become Him

I was in our bedroom last night, surrounded by wrapping paper, tape, scissors, and yarn, listening to my old albums on that fabulous new record player my daddy gave me for Christmas. The album de jour was the J. Geils Band Freeze Frame. [For the record (pun intended), if this album was not an important part of your 80s experience, then you simply didn't inhabit the same 80s that I did.] I flipped to side 2, which started with "Flamethrower," and I immediately remembered performing a drill team routine to it in the 11th grade. If you were a member of a drill team or cheerleading squad, you have probably experienced the phenomenon which happened to me: although that was over half my lifetime ago, I remembered some of the basic moves of the routine, and began performing them in a manner which would have caused much pain to my former drill team sponsor.

At this point, Hubby Dearest comments, "I remember watching you performing to this song at a basketball game. Didn't I tell you about that?" [We attended rival high schools and didn't meet until May of my senior year. The performance in question would have occurred during the winter of my junior year.]

"Yes, but I thought you must have been mistaken."

"You were on the left hand side, right?"

"My left or your left?"

"Mine."

After a little more discussion, I realized that as amazing as it sounded, he had in fact been watching me. One of his best friends had been with him and had been watching another one of the girls, whom he remembered by name.

"Except he didn't marry her," he said.

And then with a look of what can only be described as smug male pride, nodded and said, "I guess we know who the better man was," and managed to make me feel like he still thinks I'm a catch.

A Movie and a Meeting

Bryan and I went to see Facing the Giants on our anniversary Wednesday night. The night before, I was in line at Chick-fil-a and the manager, a dad in our music program, was saying it was one of the best movies he'd ever seen. He told a group of teens to go see it, and if they didn't like it to come back and he'd pay for their tickets. He said, "Whatever you're doing tomorrow night, cancel it and go see this movie."

I was disappointed at first because the film quality and acting were mediocre; however, what the movie lacks in polish, it compensates for in sincerity. It was filmed in Albany, GA, and appears to have been very much a community effort. My impression was not that some Hollywood types sat down and said, "Let's see if we can make a movie that the Christians will pay to see," but real people made a movie that they believed in.

I thought it was interesting that the movie received a PG rating "for some thematic elements" - in other words, it was a little too evangelical for the ratings board. What this movie gives you is a look at the transformation that occurs in a man who hits rock bottom and then looks up - way up - and dedicates his life and the high school football team he coaches to God's glory. I cried off and on all through it.

We'll be at a big church meeting all weekend. The kids are so excited - they've been asking if they can get dressed all day. I love big church meetings, even though I know I'll have a bad case of PAMS next week (Amber, you introduced me to that acronym). My cousin Lynn also put up a nice post this week about singing. I can't wait for tonight - there's nothing like Friday night at an annual meeting, when everyone is fresh and fired up for some good preaching. I'm also looking forward to spending the weekend with my dearest friends, my church sisters. Have a blessed weekend!

Professional development?

I posted in a Thursday Thirteen that I can't do without my Bissell Steam cleaner. What I didn't realize, is that my life is turning into "I can't do without my Bissell Steam Cleaner on a daily basis." My aunt called me a couple of weeks ago and asked if she could hire me to steam clean her carpets. Her last carpet cleaning experience was so bad that she contacted the Better Business Bureau, and she didn't want a repeat experience. I went to her house the last two Sunday afternoons after church. We had nice visits, and I drank lots of Coke and cleaned the carpet.

Yesterday morning Felicity got sick after breakfast (poor thing!), and I spent my morning steam cleaning our bedroom carpet and my nursing glider/rocker. She slept most of the day, and I thought it was over. This afternoon she was sitting on my lap in front of the computer and threw up all over her, me, the carpet, desk, curtains, . . .everything! Once again, I've spent a chunk of my day cleaning carpet (and even curtains).

I've got some personal projects in the works, which I have to squeeze into what little time is available. My last two posts were written on my husband's laptop while driving to church. I told Bryan recently that I would love to take one of those "professional development" days that public school teachers get. I honestly don't know what they do, but it sounds like a good time to go to a seminar or workshop, get continuing education credits, or just sit around with other teachers and discuss teaching strategies. I would spend a guilt-free day educating me, not the other people running around my house.

It has occurred to me that my "professional development" seems to fall under the category of carpet cleaning. After all, I've now been paid to steam clean carpets, which makes me a professional, doesn't it? *Sigh* I think maybe I'm losing it...

Friday Night Football

My husband and I did the whole jock/cheerleader scene in school; he was a quarterback, and I was a cheerleader, albeit for rival schools. Homeschool high school football is taking off with a vengeance, but we live too far from the closest team’s home field for it to be a viable option for Hayden, considering all of the practices and the number of people involved when we go anywhere. This summer, however, he was invited to join the marching band that plays at the games. It seems they had one more bass drum than drummer, so Hayden now plays a gorgeous red metallic Pearl drum for the North Georgia Falcons Homeschool football team.

Friday night’s homecoming game was their first night to march. We all went, and the whole family had a blast. One thing I love about homeschooling is that it’s about whole families, without the age-segregated mentality that’s so easy to pick up in the public schools. I’m not trying to slam public schoolers, it’s just easy to develop that mindset when so much of your life is age-segregated. I am a product of the public schools and it took me years to get over the fact that I am a year older than my husband. Anyhoo, (coming in from left field)…

The halftime program was a blast! The band did a Blues Brothers take-off complete with dark sunglasses. I think it was more enjoyable for me since I have no band experience, and therefore there wasn’t any part of my brain critiquing the playing or performance. I’m fascinated by things Christian does on the clarinet and he’s only been playing for three weeks. I would have analyzed the heck out of a cheerleading squad. I was so proud of Hayden out there with his big impressive drum (I always think of the Beatles – did Ringo Starr play a set of Pearl drums?), and I didn’t realize how much I had missed Friday night football games.

The Cheering Section

Do you have people in your life that act as your personal cheerleaders, encouraging and uplifting you when you need it most?

One of those people in my life is my cousin, Laura. I received a card in the mail from her today with pictures she took from the trip to Arkansas for our grandmother's funeral. The front of the card had the following message:

In my dream, the
angel shrugged &
said, If we fail
this time, it will be
a failure of imagination

& then she placed the
world gently in the palm
of my hand.

What a perfect message for me now! I attended a three-day conference this weekend for CAPPA (Childbirth and Postpartum Professionals Association). One of the last sessions dealt with not giving up on our goals, dividing most endeavors into three "zones": the A Zone (Starting), the B Zone (Struggling), and the C Zone (Succeeding). Our tendency is to want to give up during the B Zone - the difficult part, where all the tough lessons are learned. I'm in a major B Zone right now; I'm in the process of getting certified as a childbirth educator, and I'm in the middle of learning some difficult computer programs, which I need in order to accomplish some other goals. I'm working through roadblocks in both areas. I would really love to just cut to the chase: hold that CBE (childbirth educator) certification; be the master of my (computer) domain, designing web sites with ease (and I have two waiting for me). Oh, I can just taste it . . .

I have some major encouragers in my life. I tell Crew Mom that in the big game of life, she's my head cheerleader. Melissa wants me to build her a website; what a vote of confidence is that! My cousin, Queen Shenaynay, assures me that I am not crazy or alone, the two of us just exhibit some characteristics more typical of the males in our family. I have some friends, both personal and bloggity, who encourage me beyond measure with the comments with which they grace me. Do you have any idea how much you bless when you take the time to leave a comment, when you pray for a (sometimes) total stranger because their need has touched you? Just imagine yourself with a basketful of rose petals which you scatter along your way. Nice, huh? I've had email correspondence with a fellow blogger who brainstorms ideas for helping me with my problems, even though we've never met and she has personal worries of her own. Wow.

I am going to try not to be guilty of too much drive-by blogging - you know, read a post and keep moving without commenting. I do that way too often, or as Felicity would say, I do that "a much." That is my favorite kid phrase of the moment. Instead of a lot of something, Felicity refers to it as "a much," as in, "I want a much of ice cream," or this morning when she first used her potty seat and said she "went a muchy much!" Gotta love it! Blessings to you today!

My Classy Kids

I planned a curriculum shopping trip today to pick up some odds and ends we need. My older kids had music lessons this afternoon, so the plan was to take the younger ones with me to a local homeschool supply company with a large warehouse and play area. After dropping off the older kids and starting on our way, Chloe tells me that she forgot her shoes. At the end of my huge spiel on never leaving home without them, Clayton admits he doesn't have any, either. Home was twenty minutes in the opposite direction, so that wasn't an option if I hoped to buy the books.

Since it's already September, I thought maybe it would be a good time to go ahead and buy their fall tennis shoes (that's sneakers, for you northerners). When we got to Ross, I discovered that Felicity didn't have any shoes, either! She was asleep when we left the house, but I had been assured that her shoes were with us. It is completely against my my standards of what is socially acceptable to take three (actually four, if you count Lily) barefooted kids to any public place other than the pool. I had hoped to cram all of them into a shopping cart, but Ross's carts aren't that big. Instead, two rode in the cart and two walked.

With the absence of a "No shirt, no shoes, no service" sign (do they save those for restaurants?), we entered the store. My goal was to get in and out, with as few people as possible gaping at all those bare feet. The kids asked if they were getting new flip-flops. I told them summer was almost over and we would get new tennis shoes. It was then that they reminded me they already had new ones. Let me interject that I am an incredibly frugal person, the kind who would never buy an unneeded item (like a second pair of tennis shoes) unless it was practically being given away.

At this point, Felicity squealed, "I just farted!" with all the delight of a child who is potty-training and becoming very aware of this sort of thing. This is a word which you will never hear me use; I even had trouble typing it. By then, I was just wishing the floor would open up and swallow me and my barefooted, redneck-acting kids.

We emerged with socks, panties for Felicity (her announcement made me remember she needed more), a much-needed new backpack for Chloe for co-op classes, and a couple of Christmas present ideas; at least the trip wasn't completely in vain. After we got everyone in the car, I made a call to Bryan and realized the book store closed in ten minutes. I guess this means we get to try it again. Maybe next time they'll remember their shoes...

My Word Cloud

I would like to thank Brenda at Rocking Chairs and Rainbows for directing me to this neat idea. It pulls random words from your blog to create this word cloud for you. Go here to try it yourself! 

Pictures from the trip

I've got some serious blogging to do when I settle back in from being gone last week for my grandmother's funeral. For now, I want to share some pictures from our trip. Some dear friends, Jo and Dempsey, of my cousin Blake's are raising a fawn. Dempsey accidentally clipped it with a lawn mower in late June when it was very small (this is out in the country, where you can accidentally hit a deer while mowing!). They took it to a vet and its little leg was put in a cast. The cast has been removed, but they're still raising this cute little fella, feeding him a mixture of goat's milk, baby cereal, and fresh fruit. Here Lily and I are feeding him a piece of cantaloupe. He and Lily were quite fascinated with each other. Although Jo and Dempsey are prepared for it, I know they're going to be devastated when their baby is ready to return to the wild. My cousin, Laura, and I took an unbelievable number of pictures of Lily in her car seat. Since she put in over 1600 miles on the road last week, that's a lot of car seat time. This is a picture of Lily with her new buddy, Kissed, a present from Laura. They say you've got to kiss a lot of frogs...
This picture is of my sister, Jamie, Daddy, and me.
It may be odd to include a picture of my grandmother's casket, but I thought it was so beautiful. She loved pink - even had pink carpet in her living room when I was a kid - so she would have loved those flowers.

Thirteen Things I Can't Do Without

Thirteen Things I Can't Do Without 1. My boyfriend. Yes, I'm happily married, but I have a four-year-old boyfriend. I just love it when he leans in and whispers, "I love you, Mama!" 2. My Bissell Steam Cleaner. Do you know what happens when your dog gets into chocolate in the Easter baskets (after not learning her lesson from the Halloween candy)? It isn't pretty, and you'll need a steam cleaner. By the way, dogs and chocolate are not, well, compatible... (let's just leave it at that). 3. Gummy Bears! 4. Ladies' Nights Out with my church sisters - the BEST (both them and the nights out)! 5. Baby snuggles. Can anything be better than a sleeping baby snuggled against your chest? I think not. 6. DSL. I might even sacrifice the gummy bears to keep the DSL, but I hope it never comes to that. 7. My digital camera. 8. My blog - I'm addicted! 9. My Bloglines account. I was so excited this morning to see that most of my good buddies had blogged something new for me to read (Michelle, Trina, where are you? Trina's only, well, buying a house this week, so Michelle I guess that leaves you - get with it, girl!) 10. My family. My aunt told me this morning that my grandmother isn't expected to make it through the week. It's one of those situations where it will really be a blessing for her to pass on; even though the circumstances will be sad, it will be a joy to spend time with my family. 11. My pastor, my church, and my Lord. Although I can't imagine my pastor reading my blog (he really has much more important things to do), he took the time to call me yesterday and talk about a blog discussion I've read and had questions concerning. How cool is that? 12. "Popcorn and Cereal" Sunday nights. This has been our Sunday night menu for the past few months. We usually eat a big meal at lunch, and this gives me a break from cooking. The kids LOVE it! 13. My hubby's patience. I don't think I'm a particularly easy woman to live with. I keep the clothes clean, but seldom ironed; supper is almost always late, my honey-do list is usually ridiculously long; I'm obsessed with learning new things on the computer, which can be time consuming; I'm in my own little world much of the time. I love you, Bun! (One day I'm going to manage to get him to post a comment.)

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A Full Day

My grandmother has been in a nursing home for a while. Sometimes she's doing well, sometimes not so well. Lately, however, has been worse and hospice was called in last week. The nursing home is about an hour and a half drive, and I knew there would be a good chance Grandmother wouldn't know me, but I decided Monday night that I really needed to go, especially since it could be the last time I saw her alive. I called my sister to see if she could meet me. Although I didn't want to take all of the kids with me (and possibly turn it into a stressful circus), I thought it would be important for the older three to go. Unfortunately, the younger ones really don't remember Grandmother outside of the nursing home. First thing this morning I asked my sweet retired neighbors if the younger three (minus the baby, Lily) could stay with them. They took kids and car seats, and sent us on our way.

I made lots of phone calls during the hour and a half drive. I told my dad that we had removed the back seats from the van and would drive by his house after the nursing home, to pick up a couch we left in his basement last summer. I spoke with my sister multiple times with updates about our the traffic situation along our way. I called Rob, a friend who is one of my dad's neighbors, to see if he could help us load the couch. I called my dad again and invited him to invite us to lunch (smooth, aren't I?), and also chatted with my pal, Karen, who I had hoped could join us for lunch.

I didn't know what to expect with Grandmother, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that she was sitting up in her wheelchair instead of in bed. She opened her eyes sometimes when we spoke to her, and even moved her mouth and tried to say something once. She visibly reacted when Lily would make baby sounds. I held Lily in front of her, her youngest granddaughter, whom she'll never really know. I told her how much I loved her, and I reminisced about the past: her bizarre looking dog, Pugsley; Granddad's dog, Gabby (Gabslab!); how my cousin, Blake, and I loved to pretend we had broken arms and Grandmother would use towels to tie them in homemade slings; a built-in hamper in my grandparents' home that we used for hide-and-seek.

I may not visit with Grandmother again this side of heaven, but I'm thankful for the time that my kids, my sister, and I shared with her today. My dad accepted my invitation and took us all to lunch, and even our friend, Rob, rearranged his schedule and went, too. I made it home in time to get everyone situated before I left for the second night's class in the childbirth education series I'm observing as part of the childbirth educator certification process. Afterward, I installed a mega piece of software which was kindly given to me today. I can hardly wait to play with it, but I'm saving it for tomorrow when I'm awake enough to know what I'm doing. Yes, it was a very full day...

Things I Learned Today

Here are some things I either learned or rediscovered today:

• A foot which has been in a cast for three weeks, even a two year old foot, has some serious foot odor.
• My four-year-old, Clayton, at times displays masterful comedic timing; his only problem is that when he discovers a line that gets a laugh, he tends to overuse it. Today's one liner was: "This calls for celery!" Apparently this is from a cartoon he watches sometimes, Wonder Pets.
• It is great fun to cruise down the highway belting out Earth, Wind, & Fire's Greatest Hits in falsetto, while grooving in your seat. Expect strange looks and comments from your kids, though.
• If they accidentally give you one more Frosty at Wendy's than you ordered (even if you do actually pay for it), it isn't in your best interests to eat two of them.
• Wendy's now has vanilla Frosties, too.
• At least two of my kids pronounce vanilla as "banilla."

Moving Day

Yesterday was one of those days that will eventually happen to most of us as parents. The day when you realize that your child is really out on his/her own, and probably won't be living at home anymore. Jacob started college last August, so he hasn't officially lived at home in almost a year (for anyone who doesn't know him or hasn't seen him in a while, he's the nut in the middle). He's spent the beginning of the summer in an apartment with other kids from school, but that wasn't a permanent arrangement; he was "saving a place" there for a kid who was home for the summer and would be back for the fall. Yesterday, however, he and three friends moved into a house smack in the middle of downtown. They have a really good arrangement - a four bedroom/two bath house with a wooded backyard. It is an older house, but has been fairly well-maintained; the kitchen has new hardwood flooring and a new refrigerator, and the other appliances look practically new. It has just been repainted and the carpets look new or at least recently cleaned.

Jacob spent the night here Monday night. Now that he no longer lives at home, he is like a celebrity. His visits generate the same kind of enthusiasm at our house as a Beatles' concert during the British Invasion. He was glad to be home, but really anxious to show us the house. Bryan, Lily, and I were the only ones who made the trip to deliver him and his belongings; we had to take all but one of the bench seats out of the van in order to fit his bed, desk, and the rest of his stuff (gotta love the capacity, if not the gas mileage, of that fifteen-passenger van!). He has his own bedroom with a sleigh bed on loan from our cousin, Laura. His housemates are boys who have been his friends for years. They are obviously beyond thrilled about starting this new chapter in their lives.

I do have one very special prayer request: The house is 1.75 miles from the train station that Jacob will take when going to work (shift manager at Caribou Coffee - no more Waffle House!), etc. He has a bike and is in very good shape, however, I am concerned for his physical safety. Although it is in the shadow of buildings housing some of the world's largest corporations, it looks like it could be a fairly treacherous 1.75 miles, especially at night. I asked his friends with cars not to let him ride his bike home from the train station after dark, but to please drive down and pick him up. They jokingly said they wouldn't let him ride his bike - he could walk. I'm just hoping they aren't all so young and invincible that they don't take the dangers seriously; they buried a friend less than a month ago. As a mom, that' something I just can't shake: that reminder of how everything can change in just a moment's time. Please say a prayer for my baby, which he'll always be, even if he is twenty years old. 

Thirteen Ways I Am Blessed Beyond Measure

Thirteen Ways I Am Blessed Beyond Measure 1. The face above is what greets me each morning. 2. I have a daughter who invites me to tea parties and likes to sit and draw with me. 3. I have a son who asks me to go outside and play catch with him and doesn't say I throw like a girl (because I don't). 4. I have another son who is a fellow geek wannabe and likes to stay up late and discuss HTML, and other interesting stuff. 5. The Lord, in his infinite mercy, has entrusted us with 8 amazing children who enrich my life more than I could ever describe. 6. I have wonderful neighbors who look out for me and my kids. You can't say enough about good neighbors. 7. I have a husband who changes diapers, gives baths, puts the kids to bed, and can fix just about anything. Oh, and he looks at me like he did when he met me at 18 years old, after 22 years together and birthing 8 of his children. 8. I am blessed with a very special church family. The women are sisters in Christ, sisters of the heart, and my very best friends, supporters, and encouragers. 9. I have always had a close-knit family - parents, grandparents, sister, aunts, cousins - who love me, my husband, and my children. I have strong roots in the church and priceless family treasures, such as my great grandmother's hand-sewn quilts. 10. I live in the day of heating and air-conditioning, automobiles, refrigeration, washers and dryers, Krispy Kreme doughnuts, and cosmetics. 11. I am American by birth, and Southern by the grace of God. 12. I have a Lord and Savior who gave his life for me and loves me unconditionally. Because of this, I live a life of joy, purpose, with the hope of reuniting with my loved ones in heaven. 13. I have my own bathroom (well, I share it with my husband). This is something I truly appreciate! Links to other Thursday Thirteens! (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!) 1. armywife 2. Lil Duck Duck 3. Kimmy 4. Kailani 5. Raggedy 6. Carmen 7. barbara 8. gail 9. stacy 10. sherri 11. nancy 12. minthegap

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants