Six Years Ago

3:00 AM
I wake with a start. I am 9 months and 1 week pregnant with our second child, feeling big, bloated, and tired all of the time and wishing I would just have this baby already! And to make matters worse I think I may have just peed the bed!

3:10 AM
Wait. That’s not pee.

3:15 AM
I wake Pat to tell him I think my water broke.

Pat: (sleepily) Huh? Why don’t you wait a little while to make sure.

His head hits the pillow and he resumes snoring.

3:20 AM
I lie on the couch holding the phone and timing the contractions while I watch crappy television turned down low. 

5:15 AM
I finally call the doctor, who laughs when I tell him how long I let him sleep.

6:00 AM
Pat and I pull into my sister’s drive way.  He escorts a sleepy 8-year old Savannah through the rain inside the house.

6:20 AM
We arrive at the hospital.

11:56 AM
Sarah arrives.

Six years later we have our fairy princess.

 

Happy birthday, Sarah! 

101 in 1001: #69

As I’ve gotten older I’ve been trying to avoid the camera. Hence why my current Facebook profile pic is of my son and why all the photos of me on this sidebar are very old!

I don’t like the way I look on film – sometimes pasty, sometimes dull, sometimes frizzy-haired, and a lot of the time kinda bloated. It doesn’t make for a pretty picture.

But what I hate more than an unflattering picture are the disappointed looks and words from Savannah and my husband while I try to block the camera.  And even more than that, I hate not having pictures of myself with my husband and kids during this time. I’d like to be present in the scrapbook when I look back years down the line. I don’t want to be the one behind the lens, or worse, that person hiding behind a hand or a book or someone’s shoulder.

To cure this I wrote #69: “Take a self portrait once per month for 1001 days.“

Sounds easy enough.

I took my first pics sitting here in my office so I could check off my first month.  I felt silly, but it was painless.

But then I had to be a real go-getter (or smart ass if you prefer) and add another goal on my list:

“Post these pictures publically.”

Oh crap!

So here goes. The first photo for #69, taken in August 2013. Yes, it took me 3 weeks to get around to posting it publically. I’m cringing while I do this, but I’m determined to make it through this list.

 

What will be cool to watch (I hope) is seeing changes in these photos as I try to reach #27 (Getting down to my “happy weight” – if there is such a thing!), and #63 (Give myself a complete makeover.)

This should be interesting.

(Read more about the 101 in 1001 project here.)

#57

Since March 2011 I’ve been on a journey of sorts and ended up not quite where I thought I would.  I quit my job as a conference manager for a large nonprofit organization.  I was totally burnt out, stressed, and snapping at everyone at home and sometimes at work. It was time to decompress. 

(If you want a little history, you can read about my decision to leave here.)

Over the next 2 1/2 years I went from being a stay-at-home mom to a part-time church secretary, then a full-time volunteer manager and now I’m back to managing conferences.

Did I want to end where I started? Not exactly. I was expecting to make a pretty big change, and I obviously failed there. I do this conference planning thing well, though, and I’m getting paid for my knowledge and experience, which is nice. What’s not nice is having a boss that stays late often and comes in on her vacation days (as she did yesterday - all day), and this is after we talked about wanting to be with our kids more.  I thought we had the same priorities, but apparently not. 

But this time around I’ve decided to do something different.  Typically I focus on the vast amount of work I have or that this work doesn’t fire me up, and complain about the time my work takes away from my family. All of this is such an energy waster and I end up feeling tired most of the time, which doesn’t make me the greatest mom or wife. So I’ve started a project that I’ve seen around the web and decided to jump in.

101 in 1001

I have made a list of 101 things I want to accomplish in 1001 days.  That’s 2 years and 9 months. I’ve included things that involve my kids and my husband and things for myself that I’ve been wishing I had the time to do. My hope is this project or challenge will turn my focus on things other than work and put my energy back where it belongs…actually living life instead of complaining.

Many other blogs have published their entire lists. I’m not completely comfortable with that.  I’ve included some pretty personal things, so I’ve decided to share one at a time as I make my way through it. So stay tuned for some posts about my 101 list. 

#57 (hence the title of this post) is to blog more regularly - and I plan to accomplish that!

It occurred to me while writing this post that I could have gone through the bulk of a 101 list in the time since I left that original job. Who knows where I'd be!

Join me! Click the link above or just Google "101 in 1001" and get some ideas for your own list. I have one friend doing this with me. I'd love to have more come along and share your experiences!

By the way, I just heard author Jack Canfield say, “101 is the spiritual number of completion.”

Very interesting.

The Start of a New Era

This morning was exciting in our home!

Savannah started high school....

with a smile!  I've never seen her smile like this on a school morning.

And Sarah started kindergarten....

with some nerves, understandably.  But still smiling as always.

Pace thinks he's in the clear....

but his time comes next week. 

I hope his teacher is ready for what's coming her way!

 

2013, The Year of. . .

As 2012 has approached it’s end, I’ve been reading some of my past journal entries. Not just from this year, but 2011, 2010, 2009…. all the way back to 2006, which isn’t hard since the current journal I use (you can take the word “use” very lightly), started in 2006.  As with so many aspects of my life, I started a journal (once again) and never truly committed to the process.

One of the sad – no, make that frustrating – realizations I had was that sooo many of my posts are basically the same reflections, desires, and goals.

I want to lose weight.

I want to become a freelance writer.

I want to organize my home more thoroughly.

I want, I want, I want and not much doing.

Somewhere around the 2009 entries I started to sigh….a lot.  I even rolled my eyes at myself somewhere in the 2011 section.

Many of us know the famous quote by the amazing writer Annie Dillard:

Right on, Annie. 

It’s the reason why I keep writing down the same goals year after year.  My days are spent procrastinating. 

I have one friend who has lit a fire in me, though.  Crystal and I have spent years’ worth of lunches at Corner Bakery sharing our grievances and wishes with each other, along with a pecan tart or a slice of cinnamon coffee cake, and we’ve both noted that we always say the same things.  This year, however, Crystal has taken that first step and is actually making one of her long-time dreams a reality.  She’s started a non-profit organization, Our Hair.

She hasn’t just taken the first step, she’s started climbing the staircase, step after step after step.  

I am so proud of her and inspired by her.  You can check out her Facebook page and learn more about Our Hair here.  They provide African American kids in foster care with hair and skin care products and also education on how to care for their hair and skin.  I can tell you working at a children’s shelter, we never get products that are geared directly toward the needs of African American children. This is a sorely needed organization.

So yesterday I began throwing out old notes, plans, and self-help books.  I know what to do, I just need to push myself and start walking up that staircase. I’m determined not to read the same journal entries again the next year. 

And with friends like Crystal, I think it’s a big possibility I could reach my goals or at least be on my way.  I just need to be more attentive to how I spend my days.

Maybe we should call this the year of being mindful.

The Bad Parenting Continues

Pat and I work really hard to be good role models for our kids.

Yes, we’re both struggling with weight issues right now, and we watch a little too much TV, and sit at the computer more than we should, and sometimes have silly spats in front of the young’uns.

Well, at least we watch what we say in front of them….

Sometimes….

Okay, we slip….frequently. I’ve written about that before, in the days before I took my long sabbatical from writing.

A couple of the highlights:
At a very young age, Savannah said the infamous “F” word when she dropped a crayon during a Christmas Eve service.

Sarah sweetly said “shit” a few times while walking around the living room. I guess she thought that’s what you do when you take a stroll.

And recently:
Pace’s vocabulary is quickly expanding after a late start, which has us relieved, excited, and a little ashamed.

One of his new phrases is “kicking ass!”

That’s. Great. Pace.

Did I mention he’s two?

*sigh*

There’s one incident that popped in my head today that gave me a really good laugh and prompted the writing of this post.

A little background - Pat isn’t too fond of other drivers on the road. When I say he’s not too fond, I mean there’s quite a bit of name calling and dirty looks being thrown around, and me holding down his arm before he teaches our kids what the middle finger can be used for. His favorite reaction is, “What a douchebag.”

I apologize now if I’ve offended anyone with that term.

And now on with the story…

So a couple weeks ago Pat was leaving the house and like a good family, we were all saying good-bye to him at the door. As he walked to the car, Savannah called out to him (with neighbors outside, I might add), “Watch out for the douchebags, Dad!” And shut the door. Pat said he could hear me inside saying,

“Savannah! Don’t say that!”

And her responding,

“What?? What did I say??”

Yes, Pat and I try really hard to be good role models.

We just forget sometimes.

High School Days

Last night I went to the open house for the local Arts Magnet High School with my oldest daughter Savannah.

*sigh*

High School….already.

It’s happening too fast.

But before I sink into a my baby’s growing up depression, I want to talk about how freaking cool this school is!

This is actually my alma mater. I graduated from there in 1988 and it was a cool school waaayyyy back then.  You know, in the old days.

May I name drop for a moment? I walked the halls with Erykah Badu, hung out between classes with jazz great Roy Hargrove, and did a few plays and parties with Elizabeth Mitchell who was in the TV series “Lost.”  Edie Brickell graduated the year before I arrived. Norah Jones came in a few years after me and her phenomenal success made the school close to impossible to get into.

Back in my day it was just a 2-story brick building with an addition in the back that included a state-of-the-art (for the 80’s) music department.

The school is on the same spot, but it’s now a 4-story modern, talent molding facility.

I seriously want to go back to high school. I’ll take on all the awkwardness and fear to be able to hang out here 5 days a week.

My favorite class, Playwriting, was tucked into a small, dark room in the back of the Auditorium. I filled several spirals for 4 years in that space. That class is now in a huge computer lab where each student has their own computer to type out the next Broadway play, or at least a 10-minute play to have produced in Showcase Theater on a cold Thursday night.

Honestly, I would go back for my teaching certificate if I was guaranteed a position at this specific school...but quite frankly I don't think I have enough talent and experience to teach these kids. They are exceptional.


And my girl is exceptional.  Make a note, Arts. 
(I'm showing my age.  I keep calling it "Arts" instead of "Booker T" as it's now known.)

Savannah was so excited. She kept looking all around her with this smile on her face. That smile I love so much.

Every once in a while she would look at me and whisper, “I really want to go here, Mom.”

Every time we turned a corner her smile would get brighter and I would think

Please let her go here.

Like mother, like daughter.

A Long Awaited Post

Not long ago I was talking to my teen daughter, Savannah, about the books she likes to read. I’m trying to get some Christmas ideas, you know. She said, “Your blog is my favorite thing to read. Why don’t you write on it anymore?”

Well, Savannah, Mommy has had a year-long stage of writer’s block.

Quite honestly, I just didn’t feel I had anything interesting to say anymore. I guess I felt stunted, static, bored. That’s not fun to write about.

But I’ve been thinking about Savannah’s words and how I hate that she seems let down a little that her mom stopped doing something she enjoyed.

I’ve been thinking about my love for writing and how much I long for it and miss it.

I remembered just how much I enjoyed being a part of an online community…a funny, insightful, and supportive community, and how I got to know some of my husband’s long distance, long-time friends through this blog.

I’m also in a different place now than I was a year ago, even 6 months ago. I’m working in a new job that has changed my outlook on things, both material & spiritual.

I’ve decided that I do have something to say. I’ll be writing about that new outlook and the recent experiences that have brought on these changes. Things that I want my kids to know.

Of course, I’ll still be sharing those embarrassing mommy moments. I don’t think my mother & aunt would let me get away without those. (And I think those are the posts that have made this blog Savannah’s favorite thing to read.)

So, thank you, Savannah, for being Mom’s #1 fan and for encouraging me to write again. This blog post is dedicated to you, Sweetie.

My Lunch Time

This is the month of Thanksgiving here in the states, so I feel it's only appropriate to state at least one thing I'm grateful for this month, so....

One of the things about my job for which I am so grateful is my lunch time.

Hmmmm....that doesn't sound too good, does it?

But, seriously, I can have some really great lunches because I'm close to some great places....

like home is just 10 or 15 minutes away, so Pat and the kids can come meet me whenever I (or they) want.

I'm also close to a park my kids play at sometimes. Although this creepy woman started hanging out there during lunch, too, so I've stopped going.

There's also some great eating places in the neighborhood, like one of the best burger joints, and a fantastic Thai restaurant, and a really good salad place when I'm feeling healthy.

But there's another place that I absolutely love, and it hit me a few days ago how lucky I am to work so close to this. I go there and sit on a park bench or a picnic table and read or try to do some writing,

and I have this to look at...

and this...

and this is one of the places I used to go to write when I was a teen and an early twenty-something and I wrote that sordid soap opera for years....

and now I work just 5 minutes from there.

That's just one of the things I'm grateful for -

a beautiful respite in my day.

NaNoWriMo - It's a No Go!

This year I decided to join Nanowrimo

a.k.a. National Novel Writing Month: "Thirty days and nights of literary abandon!"

Since it started on November 1st I have...

Cleaned the house

Baked a cake

Baked muffins

Organized my files

Written so many blogs I actually have a backlog

Offered to work as much overtime as needed

Walked the dog so much she now refuses to go out

Redecorated the house

Knitted a scarf

Started exercising again

Joined Procrastinator's Anonymous

And I've written exactly 2248 words out of the 25,005 words I'm supposed to have written on my novel.

I don't feel like I'm getting anything done.

Tribute

Yesterday my husband was hit with some sad news.

One of his music heroes - who had turned into a friend - passed away yesterday.

This is my own little tribute to that friend.

My husband Pat moved from his home state of Utah to Texas in 1991 to pursue his dream of playing guitar. Once he arrived in Texas he discovered the blues: Muddy Waters, Freddie King, Howling Wolf...and then there was Stevie Ray Vaughan. A guitarist who kicked the blues up to a whole new level.

Not long after arriving, Pat formed a band and began touring, which eventually led to a high profile gig (in the blues world anyway). He played in several countries and all across the states, meeting many people he admired, even B.B. King. I think that's the only man who's ever brought Pat to tears - until yesterday, that is.

Another musician Pat met was Doyle Bramhall, the songwriter and inspiration for many of Stevie Ray Vaughan's hits. Pat met Doyle through Chris Hunter, Doyle's step-son, who played drums in the same band with Pat. Pat and Doyle talked, hung out, and played together. Pat gained great respect for Doyle pretty quickly. He was mega talented, and unlike so many successful entertainers, carried himself with no conceit. Pat always prided himself that Doyle (the man who partnered with Stevie Ray Vaughan) loved his guitar playing. Pat played on one of Doyle's cd's not long after they met.

I wasn't able to spend much time with Doyle, I only had a handful of times with him, but there is one memory that immediately came to mind when Pat told me the news yesterday. About seven years ago, Doyle and his wife Barbara were visiting in town. With a 5-year-old Savannah in tow, we met up with them at a local Starbucks to give them some baby clothes to take back to Chris for his little girl. After a brief conversation they invited us to lunch. They were hungry for Tex-Mex (and who isn't in Texas??), so we took them to our favorite haunt. Doyle was so friendly, and spoke easily with our little Savannah, and had me crying with laughter as he told past stories from the road. That lunch led to a full day together: all five of us driving around the city, talking, laughing, and sharing stories and food. Both Doyle and Barbara left a lasting impression on me and I was always happy to see them when they came to town.

I'll forever be grateful to Doyle for the compliments and confidence he gave my husband,

for the way he welcomed me,

for the way he talked with Savannah,

and for the music he gave us.

RIP, Doyle.

Sound the Alarm!

Like many moms, I constantly compare my parenting skills to others.

I try to emulate their patience, and then I snap at Sarah when she won't quit pulling on my shirt over...and over....and over.

I work so hard to be more attentive to my kids, and then I shush them when I'm watching Modern Family.

I try to be more health conscious to keep their bodies growing strong instead of wide, and then I stop at the nearest drive-thru and order burgers and fries.

One thing all moms do, though, is have days when you think you're going to absolutely lose it!

The other day while I was cooking dinner and getting tomato sauce all over my favorite white shirt, Savannah kept coming in asking for various snacks, Sarah was hanging on to the back of my shirt like she loves to do, Pace was crying at my feet wanting to be held, and telemarketers wouldn't stop ringing my phone.

I had a sudden urge for a glass of wine...a piece of chocolate...something that would give me a quick respite.

Then I remembered an article I read in a parenting magazine about the rise in the number of women who have become addicted to prescription pills.

Is it bad that I wanted to search for that article so I could get some tips on which pills work best???

The Pros and Cons of My Career Change

In March of this year, after much deliberation, I left my full-time job at an organization where I had grown, gained more and more responsibility, and actually surprised myself numerous times with my ability over the past ten years. You can read about my pain-staking decision here.

A couple months ago I took a part-time position as the Office Administrator for a local church. Yes, that means I’m the church secretary, but my official title is “Office Administrator,” and I’m sticking with it.

Over the last few days I've been thinking about the good, the bad, and damned-near ugly that has come from my career change. I guess you could say I've been trying to verify that I made a good decision. Here's what I've come up with so far:

Pros
1) No more traveling! I felt so guilty leaving Pat home with three kids each time I traveled and my trips were getting ready to increase. It also didn't help my guilty conscience to have a three-year-old screaming, "Don't go, Mommy!" when I walked out the door.

2) Less stress. I’m no longer receiving threatening e-mails from my Senior Vice President, which means I no longer grind my teeth (or plot someone's demise) in my sleep.

3) Less time at work and more time at home. I work four days a week, I'm able to sleep in a little later, I must close up the office for an hour lunch each day, and I get out of work before rush hour hits. These are my dream hours!

4) No make-or-break decisions. I don't sweat over the big, suffocating, eye-twitching, budget-making or breaking decisions anymore. That is someone else's job now.

Cons
1) No more full-time pay or benefits. Bye-bye, new boots and low co-pay! "Honey, I know you like to climb on the table, dive on to the couch, and then roll off on to the floor all while sucking on a lollipop and holding scissors, but Mommy really needs you to stay healthy right now. She needs a new pair of shoes."

2) No more traveling, which means no more free five-star meals or facials, or massages. If there's going to be any spoiling, I'll have to do it myself. However, see Con #1.

3) Being called a “Church Secretary.” Yes, I know that’s what I am, but for some reason it drives me up the wall when someone calls me the church secretary. See image above.

4) I have to watch my language. I’m the church secretary, you know. And, man, is that hard! Especially when I want to cuss someone out or throw this dinosaur of a computer out the window.

Overall, though, I have to say that I'm really glad I made the decision to leave and I stuck with it. My bank balance may be smaller, and I may not have all the little perks that I did before, but at least I sleep well at night, don't dread the mornings, and have more time to hang out with my kiddos....which is the best PRO of all!

Extra Credit

Today's post is once again for Mama Kat's Pretty Much World Famous Writing Workshop.

Today I decided to combine two of the writing prompts into one blog: (1) elaborate on one of the 22 things I've done (#11), and (2) write a blog with eight lines. I get extra credit for this, right?

And now...

The Story of the Deaf Guy in Eight Lines

I worked in a hot tourist attraction selling t-shirts in the West End

A magician's shop that employed some cute guys who possessed the sleight of hand was right next door.

One day one of those cute guys brought over a new, even cuter guy who could not hear or speak.

This new, cuter guy kept looking and smiling in my direction and I thought, I need to learn sign language and fast!

So I bought a book and studied day and night

One of the magician’s who noticed me flirting with the new guy pulled me aside and whispered, “You can’t go out with him – he’s been charged with sexually assaulting a minor!”

Unfortunately, it turned out to be true and my fascination with him vanished like Copperfield’s assistant.

A good thing came out of all this, though, when a deaf couple came in to my store a few months later and I was able to communicate with them!

The Last Trick-or-Treat

Last night was a fairly traditional Halloween for us: a dinner of mummy dogs and chips followed by trick-or-treating and lots of candy eating. Although we opted to skip the scary movie and watched "Castle" instead. Savannah & I have grown to love that show!

For the last couple of years, my sweet, soft-spoken Savannah has taken to scary costumes. This year she was a blood-sucking zombie basketball player.

Sarah wanted to be Rapunzel, but, alas, we were unable to find the long, flowing hair for our fair maiden. She finally agreed to be a fairy princess.

Pace, still not quite able to communicate, had absolutely NO say in his costume.

Yeah!

Oops! I mean, maybe next year, little guy.

He went as the head coach of the Dallas Cowboys.

His costume turned out to be the hit of the evening, and all I did was add a headset to a Cowboys outfit already hanging in his closet. Touchdown!

But the event of the evening that really woke me up was at one of the last houses we visited. Pace and I were slowly making our way up the path when Savannah and Sarah raced by us.

“Trick or treat!” they both proclaimed.

Pace and I waddled up (I swear, Pace walks like an old penguin.) as Sarah received her candy. The lady looked up at me and said, “Where did your older one go?” I looked around to find Savannah standing on the sidewalk with her dad.

“Anyone who says trick-or-treat gets a piece of candy. Would you give her this?” the neighbor said placing a candy bar in my hand. I took it to Savannah and asked why she left.

“I’m just too old for this, Mom.”

And that was that.

I now have a kid that’s too old to trick-or-treat. Wait…I need to stretch out my creaky knees and put on my reading glasses. The words have suddenly grown blurry.

So the plan for next year is Savannah will stay home and pass out candy while the “kids” go trick-or-treating.

She’s growing up, folks, and I can’t stop it.

A Few Things I've Done

I’ve taken the leap!

I’ve decided to try my first writing prompt for Mama Kat’s Almost World Famous Writing Workshop.

Luckily, this prompt doesn’t get me shaking as much as others, so it may be the perfect start.

One side note before I start: this list will be edited since both my mother and my daughter read my blog.

Without further ado….

22 Things I’ve Done in My Life

1. Hid in the bushes of my school in Kindergarten when my mom was late picking me up.  I was afraid I would be kidnapped.

2. Almost kidnapped in third grade walking home from school.  (I guess I had given up on Mom in my mature years).  A van pulled up beside me and a man got out and started walking toward me.  I took off running down our alley and a bamboo shoot went up my thumb nail while I frantically tried to open our gate.  I heard the van door shut and speed off.

3. Learned to drive on the back roads in the Piney Woods of East Texas at the tender age of 11.  And, yes, I drove my aunt around town for many years before I received my license at 18…but you didn’t hear that from me!

4. Wrote a secret, on-going soap opera throughout middle school and high school.  I even had set and costume design planned out the entire time.

5. Went to a fantastic high school.  I attended the Arts Magnet high school in downtown Dallas.  We didn’t dance on the tables like they did in “Fame,” but I did walk the halls with Erica Badu, get stoned with jazz-great Roy Hargrove, and acted in a play with Elizabeth Mitchell from “Lost” and “V.”  I loved high school!

6. Had a mad man at my front door.  He was trying to get in the house with a knife.  I was 15 and terrified.  Thank God for neighbors and the cops!

7. Belly laughed many times with my best friend through high school and my twenties.  We actually recorded ourselves one night and then played it back.  We ended up on the floor laughing at ourselves laughing.   Does that even make sense?  At one point it became completely silent; we were laughing so hard we couldn't get any sound out, only gasps for breath - both on the tape and while we were listening.  I love it when you can laugh yourself into silence! 

8. Fell into the fountain still wearing my maid of honor dress after my sister’s wedding.  Yes, alcohol was involved.

9. “Acted” in the Video of the Year for 1989.  I was in Don Henley’s “The End of the Innocence” video, which was filmed in the Dallas area.  My one, solitary scene was filmed at Union Station downtown.  In case you’re dying of curiosity, here’s a link to the video on Yahoo! Music.  You know you wanna see it!  That’s me as The Bride at 3:47.  I was 19, skinny, and had high aspirations of making it big. *sigh*

10. Had my hair butchered onstage by an “internationally known hairstylist.”  Yeah-right.  Internationally known for crap!  I will say that my own hair stylist managed to turn it into something really cute, but it was the shortest I had ever been.     

11. Learned sign language so I could date a cute deaf guy.  Turned out he was a pedophile.  That pretty much sums up my pre-Pat dating life.

12. Started my period on my wedding day. *sigh*

13. Been on David Letterman.  Not as a guest, though  Pat and I scored free tickets to be in the audience.  When we watched the show that night, there we were when the camera scanned the audience:  I was laughing and Pat shot his arms up in the air to be seen.  It worked!

14. Watched my husband play for thousands at Jazz Fest in New Orleans several times.  I got that old-time, pre-marriage butterfly feeling watching the crowd go nuts after his guitar solos.

15. Met Clint Eastwood at the Monterey Jazz Festival.  He was there to interview a woman Pat played in a band with.  Mr. Eastwood was so gracious and made sure I was included in the conversation. 

16. Performed with my husband twice a week for the last three years. 

17. Stayed at two “haunted” hotels and managed to scare the crap out of myself both times.  (A story may be coming on Halloween.  Mwah!)

18. Took a leap of faith and left a torturous work environment without knowing I had a net to catch me.  It was exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time.

19. Lost a baby in utero.

20. Gave birth to three extraordinary people who have changed my life for the better.

21. Gave birth to one of those three extraordinary people without drugs.  Believe me, I wanted the drugs!  She just came too fast.

22. Married a man that actually gets me (most of the time), allows me to be really immature and goofy (and frankly dives right on in there with me), and has learned to work around my many moods (and there are a lot).  Oh yes!  And we make beautiful music together. *blush*

Savannah's First Concert

Two tickets to see Taylor Swift in concert...

$225




Cost to park at Cowboys Stadium....

$35



Cost to see Savannah's face when Taylor Swift steps onstage....

Priceless!


It was a very good girl's night out!

Eleven Years

On this day eleven years ago, early in the morning, I was driving to east Texas with Savannah, then 20 months old, in the backseat. My sister Valarie had called a few minutes after six to tell me our father had died after a hard battle with bone cancer.

We knew it was inevitable he would be gone soon, I just wasn't ready for it to be that soon. I had just left his house 36 hours before. He had suddenly seemed to be getting a second wind. Wanting to eat and laugh, trying to get up from his bed, a hospital bed placed in his den so he could be with his family. We now know that was the surge of energy terminally ill patients get before they die. It can last for one hour, two days, or two weeks. I wish I would have known.

Today, eleven years later - hard to believe - I still find myself grieving. All day I've been quick to grow angry, cry, or feel overwhelmed. Dustin Hoffman once said you never get over the loss of a parent. I couldn't agree more. It seems strange that my three kids will never know their Grandpa Ralph and just how much he would have loved them.....does love them.

But as the day draws to an end, I want to remember the good things,

not the drive I had to take that morning,

or selecting his casket,

or walking away from the gravesite.


I want to remember his hugs.

How he smelled of saw dust and sweat when he came in from his workshop.

How he ate his fries with a fork.

And hearing him say, "Pass the sugar, Sugar."

Grandma's Front Porch

Last March I took a leap of faith.

(You can read about my decision to leap here.)

I left my job...

a secure job...

a well-paying job...

a job with benefits...

a job with a HELL of a lot of stress and leadership that made everyone's life difficult.

For too long I was gritting my teeth, tired all the time, quick to lose my temper, and very hard to live with. I felt I was getting a nudge from something greater than me to leave - that there was another path waiting. So after a lot of discussion with Pat I turned in my notice.

I was on cloud nine for weeks, but after time passed and no yellow brick road or sparkly red shoes magically appeared, and a mystical voice didn't whisper sweet anything in my ear, I began to doubt my decision and the tension crept back in to my jaw, shoulders, and home.

Savannah was due to go to my mother's for a visit at the beginning of the summer. We typically meet my mom half way instead of taking the entire 3-hour drive, but this time I decided to make the whole trek. As we drove down the narrow country road leading to her house, trees forming a thick canopy over the car, it all seemed so familiar to me. A place of love, family, and home.

My mom now lives with her sister, my Aunt Peggy, in the house they grew up in, the house my grandfather built in 1931. It's the place I visited every summer and many holidays. It's where my grandmother, aka G-ma, rubbed my back until I fell asleep; it's where my mud bakery spanned the vast front yard complete with mud pies, mud cakes, and mud cookies, and where I snapped fresh peas and peeled potatoes from G-ma's garden as I sat next to her on the porch. Despite the memories I hold, I don't believe I ever fully appreciated the comfort this place provided until this recent trip.

I was in need of calm; something to get my mind to stop. I was sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, the same one G-ma sat in for many years, when I heard thunder in the distance. Not long after a soft rain began to fall. A breeze blew in with the rain and eased the Texas heat. I could feel the coolness brush my face and listened to the rain drops softy land on the trees and grass. and I felt my body sink down into the rocking chair as it released the stress. I laid my head back and enjoyed the moment; a much needed moment to gain a little peace of mind. A moment that I now refer to when I feel my jaw tense up, my "safe harbor" as author David Trottier calls it.

I go to my safe harbor, my grandmother's front porch, and bring all of my senses with me, and just let go...if just for a moment.

What about you? What's your safe harbor?

Fourteen

This was me fourteen years ago today...



It's been quite a roller coaster.

A ride with

anticipation

laughs

screams

and relief.

And I don't want to get off.

Happy Anniversary, Pat!

I love you!