Sidewalk Prophets - The Words I Would Say

OUR NEW NORMAL

When I signed into my blog this morning, there was a notification in big black letters saying that my last entry was created on May 6, 2010. There is a reason for the 3 month gap in my blogging. Twelve days after my last blog was created, my father suffered a massive stroke. My mama left for work at 6:00am on Tuesday, May 18, 2010. My daddy fell out of bed at approximately 6:30am that very same day. After hitting his head on the bedside table and struggling to reach the telephone and the clock radio, he lied on the floor for 12 hours, until mother came home from work and found him semi-conscious. She called me and my brother, Jonathan, and we were flying the friendly skies on Delta Airlines within 2 hours of her call. We met her at the Mobile airport at 11:00pm. It was surreal. It was scary. We were hopeful, but not delusional. The situation was NOT GOOD. His stroke "killed" 60%-70% of the left side of his Cerebellum, leaving him paralyzed on his right side and unable to swallow.

This began our "New Normal". Daddy stayed in the Neuro ICU for several days, until he was ready to go to Rehab to try to reclaim the use of the right side of his body, including his right vision and hearing. They also planned to work on his swallow mechanisms. He began Rehab Treatment on May 28th, 2010.

After 4 weeks of vigorous exercises and lots of love and attention, daddy was "ready" to go home. We left the Rehab Hospital, and mother drove daddy and me home on June 25, 2010. He went to a new bedroom that had a hospital bed, and we worked 'round the clock setting up protocols and instructions for the home healthcare workers and his friends who had graciously volunteered to help him when mother could not be there. Then, on June 27, 2010, daddy's heart began to fail. He was transported back to the hospital where he stayed until July 2, 2010. On that afternoon, we brought him home once again. We all repeated the scurrying to get everything in order for him, and I was buying his prescriptions at 9:00 that night. He was tired, and we were terrified. The very next night, July 3, we knew that something was happening again...he was moaning and struggling to breathe. His home healthcare nurse advised us to call the ambulance that Sunday, July 4. After a couple of days in the hospital this time, it was evident that there isn't much more that can be done for daddy. We signed DNR orders, turned off his internal defibrillator, and called Hospice. He went home by ambulance on July 7, 2010. He wants to be in his home with his family. He doesn't want any life sustaining medications, and he is ready to join his parents and his Saviour in Heaven.

Now, I am here writing my first blog since May 6, 2010. At that time, my girls were beginning their last month as 5th and 6th grade students. Today, they are preparing to begin their 6th and 7th grade years. Time does fly, and no, it is not always because one is having fun. However, our summer has been eye-opening for everyone in my family and many who are involved with our situation. It has taught me patience. It has taught me that there is no such thing as too many "I love you's", and that I should cherish every opportunity that I have to be with my family.

I have set up a caring bridge page for my father, and I invite readers to visit it. A more in depth story is there. www.caringbridge.org/visit/petekyser
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Below is the entry that I posted on CB yesterday:

The beginning of August always brings changes to our household. Family vacations are over, and we hit the ground running to collect uniforms, shoes, and school supplies. We make the obligatory trip to the p​e​d​i​a​t​r​i​c​i​a​n​, the eye doctor, the o​r​t​h​o​d​o​n​t​i​s​t​, and the hair dresser. We clean, we organize, and we retrain our bodies to go to bed at a decent hour. These things happen every August in millions of households containing school-aged children all over our country. It also happens in the homes and lives of millions of teachers, school a​d​m​i​n​i​s​t​r​a​t​o​r​s​, pastors, and professors. For the past 31 Augusts, my mother's life has consisted of these events. On August 1, 2009, she was enamored by the children on her list. She lost sleep thinking about all of the wonderful things that they were going to learn together, and she and daddy went out to eat for their last "summer date" of the year. It was 11 days before their 42nd wedding anniversary, and if anyone asked her, she would have said that she loved her life...her husband, her family, her friends, her job...and that she was born to teach first and second graders. We have asked her to retire for several years, and she will not hear of it. She is a wife, a mother, a friend, an EDUCATOR.

On August 1, 2010, she seemed tired. When she talked about the impending week, she struggled between her longing to be there and her deep need to be with daddy. She knows that she has 110% support of her a​d​m​i​n​i​s​t​r​a​t​i​o​n and faculty, and she knows that the parents of her students will understand when she is not at school or has to take an abbreviated day. She also knows that daddy won't be able to come meet her for lunch, or bring her cell phone to her, or take her out for a Mexican dinner on Friday nights. She is torn. She is broken. She is tired. Her 43rd wedding anniversary is in 11 days.

The irony in all of this is that regardless of her situation, she will be one of the best teachers her 1st and 2nd graders will ever have. She will hug them, and love them, and pray for them. She WILL TEACH THEM everything they are meant to learn from her, and more. She will do this from the strength that she finds from the Lord and the love and support that she shares with daddy. She may be broken, but her faith will help her put herself back together, and her students will NEVER see the brokenness. They will ONLY see the love and the light that she shines when she walks into their room.

I have run ragged since we arrived home from our family vacation. I have lain awake at night wondering how I am going to get everything done for the girls before Thursday's orientation. I have questioned decisions that we have made as parents. I have braced myself for Libba's Middle School Softball Try-Outs. I have gone to bed every night beside a perfectly healthy husband. I haven't had to meet with hospice nurses, hire sitters, spend nights in a separate bedroom with my Aunt sleeping in the guest room. I also haven't been able to call my daddy and talk to him about the latest Broadway show that is coming to Atlanta or ask him a question about the "check engine" light that came on in the van. I cry when the sky is clear because it is a beautiful day for flying. I hang the phone up too quickly if I call his house and his voice picks up on the answering service. I want to fly home, but I don't. I am torn. I am broken. I am tired. I just hope that I have half the faith that my mama does. "My help comes from the Lord, the maker of Heaven and Earth."

National Day of Prayer, May 6, 2010

Often, our prayer life consists of requests and deals. When we are short on cash or need a vacation, we talk to God a little more than when we have money left after the bills are paid or when we book the $7,000.00 Disney Vacation. When we have a migraine or one of our children is sick, we tend to strike deals with more enthusiasm than a realtor in the years 2008-2010. Unfortunately, we often think of prayer as a way out rather than a way in. It is "human nature" to forget that God is there to talk to at any time of day in any circumstance. Fortunately, a quality of his mercy and grace is that he is quick to take us in, no matter how far we stray. I pray daily. Most of the time, I pray alone or with my children. I also pray with my husband, but I find that we pray together more when we "need" something than when "life is good". As a unit, we forget that "life is good" because of our Lord, and we should talk to him together to thank and praise him, but also to ask for guidance, wisdom, and strength. We may not "need" material things, but we certainly need the other things. We are raising two pre-adolescent daughters, and this alone calls for lots of guidance, wisdom, and strength!

So, today, I pray for wisdom, guidance, and strength to get through my days, but I also pray prayers of gratitude. I thank God for my family. I praise Him for walking with us through all of the "hard times" and for his promise to walk with us, no matter how hard times get in our futures. I thank God for my health and the good health of those whom I love dearly. I thank Him for dying on His cross so that when our health fails, we can live eternally with Him. I thank Him for my friend Gina, whom I spoke with today about everyday things AND about her daughter's first birthday. I praise Him for bringing Gina and Peyton through some very scary times in the months and weeks before Peyton was born. I thank Him for giving me friends like Gina...and Christie...and Paula...and Stacie...and Deann...and my husband, Marc, among so many others.

Today is our National Day of Prayer, and I find comfort in knowing that we live in a country that can actually acknowledge a day of prayer without extreme governmental oppression. However, it saddens me that this day may rank right up there with Christmas and Easter, as far as the spirituality of many in our country. I openly admit that I tend to save my prayers for the "hard times", but I also know that it is prayer that gets me through each day, whether a horrible Monday or a fabulous Friday.

I try to spend my daily "quiet time" in my glider rocker. I usually have my Bible and notebook in my lap rather than a baby, these days, but the rocker reminds me of the huge evidence of God's will, grace, and mercy in my life. I also pray prayers of thanks as I run or walk the 2.2 mile course at the park. It keeps me going as I look up to the sky, whether it is blue or cloudy, and it is there that I feel closer to God than anywhere.


It is good to give thanks to the Lord,
to sing praises to your name, O Most High;

—Psalm 92:1

Enter his gates with thanksgiving,and his courts with praise!Give thanks to him; bless his name!—Psalm 100:

"The LORD is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in Him" - Nahum 1:7

Blessings

"The LORD is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in Him" - Nahum 1:7
NATIONAL DAY OF PRAYER THIS THURSDAY, MAY 6th!

The message above was emailed to me on Monday morning from my girls' principal. I have waited YEARS to be able to actually say that out loud and put it in writing, and now it is our reality. We are not wealthy, and we certainly have had struggles in many areas of our lives, but we are blessed to be able to send our girls to a school that is based on Christian principals and bathed in open prayer daily. Prayer is the cornerstone of our lives. We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us (Phillipians 4:13).

More to come.....carpool calls........

No Words

It is so true that life changes in an instant. We relish the fun instant changes...marriage proposal, job offer, positive pregnancy test...but we try not to think about the scary and sad ones. I was going about my own business this weekend out on a quick errand with my feverish daughter who had irritably proclaimed that she just wanted to get out of the house (I didn't know our house was so uncomfortable), when I got a blank text from a good friend. She is always doing something hilarious just to make me smile, so I giggled to myself and shoved my phone back in my pocket as I continued to fight the unruly mob at the Joanne's Fabric Store's Daffodil Dash, aka: 99cent pattern sale. Suddenly, my phone beeped again, and the text read, "Karen's husband died". This time I didn't giggle, I gasped loud enough to cause people in the mob to turn to me quickly, some even dropping their cherished patterns. I was in shock. I was dismayed. I felt completely helpless. My 36 year old friend had sent her 40 year old husband out to mow the grass, and he never came back inside. They have 3 small children, daughters: ages 6,4,2. I stayed home from church this morning with my sick kiddoes, but she was there. She went to praise the Lord and soak up His word while surrounding herself with friends and well-wishers and taking her daughters to a safe place--Sunday School.

Jeremiah 29:11, "...For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to
prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Out of the Mouths of 21st Century Babes

Libba and I played hookey on Tuesday to go to the orthodontist, and we really enjoyed some quality mommy-daughter time. I was thrilled to have a chance to have some meaningful conversations with my youngest daughter, just me and her. Because of a radio commercial reminding listeners that our taxes were due in just a couple of days, our chit chat started going in that direction. Of course, I was thinking, "This is great, Libba is finally old enough to understand some of the technical details of "the American way". Very shortly, she let me know exactly how much she really understood. She asked, "What does the government do with the taxes that everyone pays in April?" When I quickly replied, "The money is used to keep all of the states running", she stated, "Oh, I thought the people who have jobs paid the government so that people who don't have jobs can get paid and support their families".

The Best

From the moment that we discover we are going to have a precious little baby, thoughts bombard us. We ponder the gender, we try to guess the hair color, we attempt to will the unborn child's baby blues to stay the color of a Spring morning sky. Of course, there are also deeper thoughts...Will I nurse? Will I insist that my husband help out with the late night crib parties? Will I stay home to raise the baby? Will I enlist help, and continue with my own career? Will I be able to give our baby THE BEST of everything? At first thought, "the best" brings to mind a large house, private schooling, an Ethan Allen bedroom suit, perhaps a Mercedes Mini Van; but when one looks deeper into "the best", words like nutrition, spirituality, protection are brought to the surface.

We base our boundaries and expectations on different things. We do some things the way that our parents did them, and we do some things the exact opposite way. We set expectations based on what was or was not expected of us as well as the way our own child learns and responds to us. We set boundaries for our children based on common sense and common knowledge of the great and not so great aspects of our communities While we grieve for parents who suffer unforeseen tragedies, we also learn from them so that we can hopefully prevent any further tragedies.

To an almost 12 year old who has been given an opportunity to join her fellow middle school students and the Senior class of her school in a community outreach program, "the best" is defined as being able to participate...on a Friday night....at the Mall...in groups of 2-3 students... with the Principal in the same building, but not necessarily WITH her...meeting at the food court for supper at a set time. The operative words in this scenario are "an almost 12 year old".
All she understands is that her friends are going, and the Seniors are "good responsible kids" (which 99.9% of them are)...that they are actually doing something to positively influence our community. What she DOESN'T understand is that on most Friday nights, the Mall is busting at the seams with shoppers, diners, and movie-goers. In some places, it is harder to maneuver through the crowd than it is to go through security at Hartsfield-Jackson Airport at 6am on a Monday morning. All she knows is that Mom and Dad are over-protective, not that Mom and Dad only want "the best" for her.

Like many girls, I have wanted to be a Mommy since I named my first babydoll Mindy. Like many girls, I made sure that my husband wanted children well before our 6th date. Like so many, I planned my graduate studies so that I would be finished by the time my 2nd child was scheduled to arrive. I can honestly say that I began planning for my adult life when I was almost 12. I was in the 6th grade. That was when nothing could hurt me, I could do anything, and my mother was a pain in my rear. I am sure that on at least two (hundred) occasions, I proclaimed, "Well, I will NEVER tell my daughter that she can't go". That was my definition of "the best". Twenty six (and 1/2) years later, I am telling my daughter that she can't go. This is my NEW definition of "the best". Why did I change my mind? 'because I'm her MOM.

Stepping Out on a Needle and a Stitch!

This is not actually my work, but I do have this pattern, as it is one of my all-time faves! It criss crosses in the back, and I love to trim the diaper cover with ruffles on the backside! This is an awesome spring/summer outfit!


I grew up in the Deep South, and if I didn't know better, I would believe that I was born wearing a smocked bishop dress. My mother learned to sew from my Great-Grandmother and my Grandmother, and I was their "dress up doll". I loved every minute of it, and I have always coveted their talents. My lack of sewing talent as a teen/young adult was not due to their lack of trying. Adolescence was mostly to blame. Anytime you you put 2 grown women in a sewing room with a left-handed 13 year-old, the apron is bound to turn out with a few abnormalities.

Anyway, several years ago, I needed some curtains. Marc looked at me endearingly and simply stated, "Well, you better call your mama and learn to sew". I didn't call mama, but I did call a friend to ask to borrow her machine. Several days and 3 broken sewing needles later, my girls had new curtains hanging in their bedrooms. Ask anyone who lives with me or who has stayed with me for an extended period of time, the machine is always threaded, I always have at least 2 projects going at once, and my girls have made me pinky promise that I will not smock them anymore dresses or make them anything else with a Peter Pan Collar.

Luckily for me, I am acquainted with several babies who don't seem to mind the collars, monograms, and smocking. Luckily for me, the greatest heirloom supply shop in the south is still in business in Mobile, and she has a WEBSITE!!! Luckily for me, I am not an adolescent anymore, and my mama's hints and tips really work! Luckily for me, I have figured out how to turn a "right handed" pattern upside down and backwards and produce adorable dresses, bubbles, etc.

Luckily for you......I am ready to actually sell my creations!! Luckily for you.....I will customize, right down to the buttons and snaps!

Check out the photos of two basic patterns. These usually take a week to make, shopping to delivery. Prices are: $20.00/garment, newborn -9 mos. $35.00/garment, sizes 12 mos.-2T. $45.00, 3T-6 years. $55.00 7-16 years.

I will post photos and details of all patterns available. This is a work in progress, so keep checking back!

***Keep in mind that the photos below are for reference only. ****







This is only a sample. It is NOT my work. I pulled it from the PBJKIDS scrapbook. I do have this pattern, and it can be made to your specifications.
This is NOT my work, but I do have the patten, and I can make this to your specifications.

I DID make this little suit. I am addicted to these for this Spring! They are so cute and versatile. They can be worn with a onsie or as shown. This bubble suit features a lined bodice, buttons on the shoulders and snaps in the crotch. It is accented with ruffles across the behind in a fuschia gingham and white piping on the leg openings. My pattern is 0-24 months.
I DID make these for my girls this Christmas. Notice there are no collars, ribbons, or smocking! This is the jumper view of a very versatile pattern, available in sizes 7-16. This view features a scalloped bodice, lined with coordinating gingham and attached to the skirt with ruffle trim. There are NO buttons, zippers, or snaps, and it slips easily over the head and hangs loose but not baggy. The pattern features approx. 10 variations, and some include sleeves, long or short. It can be "dressed up" for a special occasion or all the way "down" for a school picture! It can also be worn as a sundress. I can make it reversible, and it is monogrammable. "Fine accents", such as lace, inserts, entredeux, and ribbon, can always be added for extra charge.

THIS is ALSO MY WORK. This is the Bonnie Blue "Bailey" pattern. I purchased the pattern from PBJKIDS, and it ranges in size from infant thru 6, I believe. It features a hidden buttton placket in the back, which results in a nice pleat. This material was also purchased from PBJKIDS, and it is great to sew on!! However, any cotton material will work. As stated in the jumper description, this one can be dressed up or down. I will post a photo of the pattern and of the back of the dress asap.

The Definition of Family Time

Ordinarily, when people ask me if I spend a lot of time with my husband and daughters, I reply, "I spend every single waking moment with at least one of them. Marc often comes home after he drives carpool, and we spend an hour or so together, and we are always going to some event with our girls in the evenings." However, this past week, aka Spring Break, has shown me that the everyday activities are not always true time together, simply because they are "everyday", and the "everyday" junk is still there. Marc and I spend time together in the mornings, but he is still getting ready for work, taking out the garbage, teleworking from his Blackberry. I am still feeding, changing, and taking care of the twins while throwing something in the Crock-Pot and doing a load of laundry. We take Libba to Softball practices, games, and AWANA; and we take Maggie to the barn and to her friends' houses. Once in awhile, Maggie and I will run away to the mall to shop while Libba is at AWANA. Yes, I tuck them in and say prayers every night, and Marc always visits both of their rooms to kiss them on the foreheads before coming to bed for the night, but we are still making lunches, paying bills, walking the dog, mowing the grass...the "everyday" stuff of life.

Our adventure began as we all piled in the mini-van to drive half way to Naples to surprise Grandma Pat and Grandpa Chuck. It was 7:45 pm, and the downtown connector was still a parking lot, so we all let out the typical Atlanta sigh as we settled into our seats to make our way south. The radio was boring, and Marc can't telework and drive, so we actually talked! We guessed what the grandparents would do when they realized that they weren't really meeting Aunt Karen for the Good Friday Fish Supper. We talked about baseball, birthdays, and stuff. I reminded everyone that the Publix Greenbag Cooler must go everywhere with us, as the Easter Bunny said it would melt otherwise.

The weekend was wonderful. Grandma didn't have a heart attack when she saw us, but she thinks that is what we are trying to accomplish since we tend to surprise her at least once every couple of years. The girls played with their cousins, and we saw some good friends. Marc golfed, I shopped, and we spent lots of time together. There was no "everyday" associated with our time. We went swimming, sometimes twice per day. That would NEVER happen "everyday" at home. We went to Easter Mass with Grandpa and Andrea. That is definitely not "everyday" for our girls. They had lots of questions, but they enjoyed seeing how other Christians worship. Maggie played with baby Emma, and we couldn't stop talking about "our" twins. Libba pitched with Uncle Lou, who played baseball in college. Marc and I stayed up late together, and we didn't telework, take out our garbage, pay bills, or cook crock pot meals. I will admit that I had to do some laundry...it is my nemesis. The Easter Bunny's goodies made it to the Easter Baskets without melting.

After spending great time with our extended family, we loaded up the minivan once more, and we took off for some time with just the four of us. We froze the Publix Greenbag and a huge bottle of Smart Water, in hopes of getting the Easter Bunny's goodies safely back to Buford. Busch Gardens will never be the same! It was wonderful! We rode roller coasters over and over again. On several occasions, we allowed the girls to ride without us as we waited at the bottom, and I wasn't scared. I was sad that they were old enough to not be attached to us at all times. I was glad that they they weren't in the double stroller and that I didn't have to participate in the "mommy swap" ride program, but I mourned the fact that they really didn't need me. However, we spent all day and night together, laughing, joking, playing, and loving. Marc and I didn't see one fight between sisters, and Maggie didn't roll her eyes at me all day! The Easter Bunny's goodies survived after spending the entire day inside the Publix Greenbag Cooler
inside the hot minivan!

We arrived home from Florida on Wednesday. Marc went straight to the Braves vs Cubs game, and I went straight to the laundry room. The trip was worth the laundry, though.

Friday morning, we woke at 5:45 so that we could be on the road to Thomson by 7am. Our mission of the day was three-fold. First, we were going to visit my grandparents (Florence-88 years old; George--92 years old) at their home on our family farm. While I talk with them on the telephone weekly, we had not seen them in about a year, so the time was very special to all of us. Secondly, we were meeting with a photographer for a family photo shoot. As we had hoped, the sky was clear and blue, the pasture was cut, and the horses behaved. The Dogwoods, Wisteria, Azaleas, and Camelias were in bloom, and it was a perfect day. Far from "everyday", for sure. The final mission of the day was to have a portrait made of MawMaw and PawPaw with my family as a gift to my mother. They are the anchors of our family. They taught my Mother how to live everyday with what she has, not without what she wants. They raised her in the Word and in the Church, and MawMaw prayed for the man who would someday marry my Mother. When my Mother married, she and my father lived everyday with what they had, and they worked for what they wanted. My grandparents were their mentors and their friends. When they started their own family, my parents raised us as they were raised, and my grandmother was my mentor, my seamstress, my friend. My grandfather was my fishing buddy who taught me how to ride a bike, read to me from his Catholic Bible, let me light his pipe after dinner, but never let me see the fear and anguish that he felt inside from his years in the South Pacific during WWII. We went on long walks in the Spring Hill gulley, and he never showed favoritism between my brother and me. As a young adult, my grandparents were always "there" for Marc and me, and they love us unconditionally. Because of what they have taught us, verbally as well as through example, we raise our children to live everyday with what they have and work towards the things (they think) that they want. They have shown us the rewards of living simply and living for the Lord. They have shown us how to live "everyday" and how to make the most of the rare days that don't fit that definition. They have shown us how to be married for 67+ years.

We arrived at 9:30am, and we arrived home at 9:40pm. We enjoyed twelve hours of family time, and I didn't cook or wash anything. Libba didn't pitch one ball. Maggie didn't take one lesson. Marc watched The Masters with a master. I copied some recipes and told my grandmother how beautiful she is and that she is not old.

I was with my family for 9 days. I spent every waking moment with them. I didn't have to scold anyone. I didn't have to cook. I didn't drive to softball practice or riding lessons. I took as many photos as humanly possible. I gave lots of kisses and hugs. I spent my time loving them.

Reflections....

As I reflect on my life, there are many special moments that I remember, and there are many that I am looking forward to. As I have said, I firmly believe that experiences are much more valuable than possessions. Yes, I am rebuking the possession that I cannot live without...my minivan....along with my cat, my handbags and luggage, even my Mac! These things are the "fluff" in my life, not the hard core center that drives me to live each day to the fullest. The memory that comes to mind today, that forever altered my perception of family, birth, and all things sibling, is the arrival of my baby brother on April 1, 1976. Believe me when I say that he was NO April fools joke! He came into our world mid-morning, the day that he was due, and he tried his hardest to make his debut in the back of my mama's Maverick as my daddy sped down Spring Hill Avenue, often crushing the Azaleas as he had to cut traffic by driving down the median! I was 4 1/2 years old, STANDING UP in the front seat, wearing an orange and yellow flowered bubble suit, covering my ears and screaming to the top of my lungs. I think I received at least 2 pops on the legs during the 5 mile ride of my life! As soon as Jonathan was born and home with us, my life turned upside down. My daddy had a son. From that point on, I had to sit in the backseat of his Cessna when we took our routine Saturday morning flights around the southeastern coast of the United States. From that point on, I had a real person to play school with...and give lots of demerits to. From that point on, I was supposed to be the big sister, the mentor, the example. Over the years, we had fun, and we had fights. We loved each other, and we hated each other. Our father became gravely ill when we were young. Jonathan was 11 when the heart attack occurred high above Birmingham in the Cessna. He was the co-pilot, and I was at my friend's house (thank God). Dad coded, and Jonathan landed the plane. For the next three months, we didn't know whether dad was going to live or die. It was in those three months that we grew up FAST! After that summer, I was still the mentor and the example, but Jonathan was the one who helped me. He helped me cope, and he helped me get through Algebra 2. Our father was healed by the grace of God, but upon his healing our Paternal Grandmother was diagnosed with end stage Liver and Pancreatic Cancer. Again, Jonathan helped me cope, and he helped me get through Chemistry 2, along with my ACTs, SATs, and AP exams. Our grandmother passed away in September, 1989. I was a Senior, and he was in 8th grade. I was the "wise" one. He was the "smart" one. Over the next several years, I went to college, and he went to high school. We graduated on the same weekend, and I moved back home, but he moved to Boot Camp...then to Europe...He served our country in ways that many can never fathom. We both married and started our families, and our parents are still alive and well. They have taught us how to live for His Glory, and through example, they have shown us how to raise a family. My brother came into my life on a day of practical jokes and little white lies. We don't "celebrate" that part of April 1 in our family. We celebrate him. We celebrate the experiences that made us who we are.

"It's not about getting through the storm. It's about learning to dance in the rain."

All In A Day....

I have lots more to say, but (as usual), I don't have lots of time, so I am referencing some passages that I will come back to later. A friend of a friend recently lost her 2 year old daughter to a terrible form of Cancer. Their amazing faith through their daughter's brief, yet painful struggle has brought them to a point that even now, just three weeks since they suffered such a terrible loss, they are rallying troops worldwide to fight this cancerous monster. Their strength is found through scripture, and their hope is found on their knees, with family and friends surrounding them. Here are a few scriptures that have helped them. They can also help all of us....

For Hope and Comfort: 1 Peter 1:3-9; Revelation 7

Other passages: Matthew 19:14...Jesus says "bring the children to me..."
Psalm 147:2-3

Hug your children.....spend time with them, not money on things for them....you will remember the experiences, not the Webkinz and IPods!

What's greater than a 12 year old choosing her first pair of high healed sandals? Witnessing the look on her face as she walks down the shoe aisle to test them as if she is on a runway! Like I said, it's about the experiences!!

Has Psychology Just Gone Too Far?

Early this morning, Stay at Home Moms (I shall refer to us as sahms from this point forward) all across the country, and in many other parts of the free world, watched the television--and rewound their Tivos several times until they were sure that they had heard the statements correctly--in complete SHOCK AND AWE. No, they were not witnessing a terror attack or someone being attacked by marine life. They were watching the promo for today's Dr. Phil show. The topic of the day was described in a way similar to this: "Tune in at 5pm et to see why most sahms have 20-40 hours per week of undiscovered free time"!
Well, obviously it didn't take long for this to filter through the FB statuses of many of my friends, thus stirring up a great deal of heated discussions. One friend of a friend stated that perhaps the great Dr. P will be analyzing our sleeping patterns, because she very rarely experiences "free time" unless she is sleeping. To that, here is my response, "

I don't even get that much sleep every week! My challenge to the people who own this theory is to trade places with me (sahm) for one day. MY leisure time comes while driving my minivan. I have to have my eyes off of the children and on the road; I cannot answer the cell, for fear of an accident; I have to have both hands on the wheel, thus I ... See Morecannot open drinks, check homework, build a geography project, read the monthly required novel (that I already read when I was in Middle School). I cannot swat legs or point fingers. It is sheer bliss....That is why I believe that those who get the most routine and consistent leisure time are commuters in Atlanta or other large metro cities. Their commutes yield AT LEAST 1 hour per day of vehicular solitude. The said vehicles are usually NOT mini vans, but nice, goldfish-free shiny sedans that do not feature The Wiggles, Hannah, Jonas, Justin Bieber, or any other "cute boy singer" of the week on their sound systems. SO, whoever says that moms have "free time" needs to head to the closest carpool line, sport "of the week" practice, piano lesson, ballet or gymnastic class to get some real-world definitions of LEISURE TIME....The last time that I took a bubble bath, I was accompanied by at least one child, one cat, and several cell calls and texts, only to get out of the tub to be greeted by 16 emails, all from people wanting something from me..the day before, of course."

All that being said, it won't come as a surprise to anyone to know that I didn't have a chance to sit down to watch this episode. I haven't had 20-40 hours a week of free time since I was a tween.

This Is Why.....And How

My love- hate relationship with "the computer" was more "hate" than "love" in the beginning. I am from one of the last generations that can honestly say, "I didn't have a computer in my dorm room"; "I got my first home computer as a wedding gift, and it was cool to hear the little AOL voice announce, 'you've got mail', but since we had to pay for the internet by the minute or something crazy like that, I only got to hear that cool voice once or twice a day"; and finally, the most popular line in our tween-ravaged household..."I bought my first cell phone when I was 27, and it was as big as our cordless landline!" All this being said, I was one of the last teachers at my former school to completely give up her hard copy, spiral bound gradebook, and I have NEVER EVER learned how to use Quicken or file taxes online. However, having tweenagers who actually use lap-tops at school and who looked totally bumfuzzled when Santa brought the obligatory red and blue Webster's Dictionary one Christmas...they wearily announced that the "real dictionary" is Dictionary.com, and it is alot easier to use than this million page book...along with the evolution of social networking from Facebook to Twitter and everything in between, I have grown to love the ease that cyberspace and technology affords us, now that we are in the 21st Century (and now that I have finally come to terms with that fact). I would say that I have "become my Mama" when relating to my children, but that is not entirely accurate. When I asked her a question she could not answer, she encouraged me to go to the library and research it. When my girls ask me a question that I cannot answer, or at least don't want them to find the answer without a little sweat, I say, "Just Google it"! Now, back to the networking thing...Facebook...we all know that it is as addictive as a Diet Coke and a Frat Boy who has beautiful eyes but can't dance nearly as well as he thinks he can. However, unlike most addictions, you don't have to be "predisposed" to a Facebook addiction, and once you sign on, you will find lots of old friends and find yourself telling your 88 year- old grandmother that she needs a facebook page! Now, I love my MawMaw, and she is smart enough to create a page, but she isn't who has brought me to this blog. My beautiful, funny, free-spirited, smart, talented, and ( did I mention beautiful?) ageless sorority sister has encouraged me to start blogging. Now, before she told me that she was sure that I would have lots of great ideas and stories to share, I truly thought that blogs were pretty vain things, unless you are sharing an event (life-changing or otherwise) with family and friends, trying to sell something, or posting tutorials, or something like that. THEN I read her "Musings of a Mommy of 2"....thinking that it would be about her 2 kiddoes......She is writing about SHOES! She loves shoes, she loves to shop for shoes, and everyone who has ever known her knows that she is tall, slender, and LOOKS BEAUTIFUL in any shoes...even slippers! To top it off, her blog is entertaining! That is when it hit me....the definition of BLOG is "WEB LOG".....so I can "log" things in an entertaining way without feeling like I am writing down my deepest, darkest thoughts, secrets, and underwear colors for people to read, as if I truly believe they care! I can "log" things that will make people think...laugh...cry....pray....and maybe even buy a pair of shoes. Wait, Gina loves shoes. She calls them "Tranny Shoes". I love bags...purses, wallets to match, duffels, makeup bags, pretty much any bag that can tote something. A monogrammed bag will really send me into orbit, too! I lovingly call myself a Bag Whore. Yes, I am aware that is not a "lady like" term, but come on (Mama, MawMaw)...I am referring to myself....not my once sorority sister, lifelong friend, who has introduced me to Blogging...as if I don't have anything else to do...like take my daughter to her softball game. She has pictures in 45 minutes, and she is snoring on my chaise, still wearing her school uniform.....