Fire One!

It was bound to happen, and yesterday it did. Do we really expect to live quiet, destruction free lives with four boys around here? Certainly not. Years ago my husband told me that our boys were getting to an age when they will do some dumb stuff, because we never said specifically not to do that one dumb thing, or this one dumb thing. Not long after this conversation, my son is outside shooting his BB gun. He comes back in with a huge grin and looks very prideful. He says "Mom, you know that light, the one outside your bedroom? The one you never use. I shot it out!" Great, chalk that up to one of those dumb things that I failed to specifically mention not to do.

There are many more dumb things that they seem to do, even when they are specifically told not to. They may be told not to for a variety of reasons. Maybe because it's dangerous, maybe because it annoys me, maybe just 'cuz I said so.' Why do they push these limits? Perhaps it's rebellion, forgetfulness, or it could be that they didn't believe us when we said the pop will explode all over you if you open after it came flying through the air from one brother to another.

The first thing you teach about gun safetly is that you always assume it's loaded. So, why is it that my oldest son pulled the trigger of his BB gun while he was in the living room? He thought it wasn't loaded and he thought it was on safety! Well, it was loaded, and it was not on safety! Thankfully, the BB did not hit a child. We are even grateful that it didn't strike our ugly daddy cat. I am also thankful that when the BB shattered the front door, the glass stayed in place (until we were ready!) rather than burst right then and go all over the entryway.

So Fun!

We bought our son, Stephen (9), a Slingshot for his birthday last year. This is a waterslide, not the weapon, although we have those too! Our yard was flooded for most of last summer so we never got the chance to use it. A few days ago, the boys put the Little Tykes yellow slide in front of an air mattress and made their own waterslide/slip-n-slide. They wanted something to make the slide a little longer. I looked for another air mattress and then thought "Um, Duh! Get the Slingshot out of the attic!" After wrestling that huge box half way down the attic steps, I opted to risk damage to the product and avoid damage to my back, and tossed it the rest of the way to the ground. We both came out fine, thank you very much. The big boys had a great time! Daniel declined to participate and when I tried to assist him in sliding, he freaked and ran in the house! Maybe he remembers when he was only 1 and I slung him down the slip-n-slide at 100 mph, but he liked it then!

Today some of our friends came out to play with us. We had about a dozen kiddo's in line to take a ride on the Slingshot. The little ones all took a running go at it and just stopped once they landed on the slide! It took them a few tries to figure out how to get going. My friend Stef was helping her 3 year old by tossing him a bit. One time she was busy with baby so I told him I would toss him. I laid him across my arms like he was flying and gave him a good flingin.' Whoooosh! He was gone! He was so light that a little goes a long way! Next time it was his turn, Stef was ready to help him again and he said "I want her to do it!" as he pointed at me. I gave him another go and then started flinging some of the other little ones down the slide. I had so much fun! I think they did too!

Stef's daughter was by far the most fun to throw! She would lay across my arms and stiffen her legs. I grabbed her leg with my left hand and after throwing her on, I would follow through pushing her leg. This gave her added speed! She flew down that thing so fast she kept going clean off the other end! I was laughing so hard! She must have been having fun because she would get up and run back over to me. Stef was gathering kiddo's to leave while I was steadily tossing her daughter down the slide. She looked at me, as I was laughing like crazy, and said "Are you having more fun than the kids?" I may have been! It just cracked me up! As Stef headed to the car and kids were asking "One more time Mom?" I joined in. "One more time Mom!" I can't wait to throw around some more kiddo's!

"You Pitty!"

I found this in my email today. It was from when Stephen was barely 2.

Today I had the best day! My Stephen came and sat in front of me while we talked and swapped toys. Then he leaned over and put his hands on both my cheeks and rubbed and patted for a moment. Then he smiled and said "You pitty." I looked at him not sure if that's what he had said so I asked "You think I'm pretty?" He laughed and touched my cheeks again and said "Pitty." Then he got up into my lap, head on one leg, his legs hanging off the other side. He had one finger in his mouth bouncing his feet up and down while we tickled and laughed with each other. Then he held my face again and said "You bootyful." Again, I was amazed, as I didn't even know he knew that word, and said "You think Mom's beautiful?" He laughed, stuck that one finger back in his mouth, bounced his feet some more and said "Mom bootyful." What a wonderful day!

Now it's my Dan Dan (3) that thinks I'm beautiful, but only if my hair is down! Anytime I have a ponytail or have my hair in a clip, which is almost always, we wants it out. If I happen to be sitting at his level and he walks behind me, he will grab the ponytail holder and pull it all the way out. "I make you pitty Momma!" he says as he flings my hair around so that it's a lovely mess!

It's funny how each of the boys have had their own little hang ups. Randon could not stand it if I wore lipstick or fingernail polish. He would always say "That's not my Momma." Not that he thought it wasn't me, but that wasn't typical of his momma. Once, for our anniversary, I painted my nails red to match my outfit. Randon was upset about it. He wanted it off. It irritated him so much so that he got up late that night and was still talking about it. I got out the nail polish remover and he helped me take it off! I haven't worn nail polish since then!

Since I'm on the subject of my boys, I have to mention how grown up my Stephen is getting to be! You know, the one that was just a toddler three paragraphs ago, he's nine now, uhhgghhh! We have been meaning to sign him for camp for the last couple of weeks, but things just kept happening that got in the way. A few nights ago, I let him stay up and have a 'late night' with me. We talked and played a few video games together. I told him that we hadn't signed him up yet and that the spots might be gone. He astounded me with his answer. He said "That's okay Mom, if I don't get to go, there must be a reason that I need to be here. Like something important that I need to be here for." What? How old are you? I think I looked at him like he was Donald Duck or something. I just didn't expect that. Just to clarify, I asked "So your saying that if you don't get to go to camp, it's because God wants you to be here for some reason?" He nodded and replied "Yeah, there might be something more important for me to be here for." We finally got him signed up and he's on the waiting list. I told him that and he said "So, unless someone decides not to go, I won't go right?" I nodded. "Well, then I probably won't be going, because camp is fun and no one is going to want to cancel!" Even though he had every right to be frustrated or disappointed, he was cheerful.

I need it to work this way!

In every car that I have owned with electric windows there has been this little feature that rolls the window down all the way when you press the button twice or all the way down. That was a long sentence! Anyway, it's great because when you pull up at the drive-thru, you just punch the thing and down in goes. Or, if you car has 'personality,' like our Yukon, you use this feature to roll the window down so that you can reach outside and open your own door because the inside handle is broken...again. So why is this feature only on the way down?! I go through the drive-thru, the lady hands we three tacos and a large Dr. Pepper. As I drive away, I want a drink of my Dr. Pepper!! Driving round the curve, I am trying to de-paper a straw and stick it in the precut straw hole in the lid, while holding down the button to roll the window up! I have to do this quick so that none of the flying bugs get into my car! Why can't the button work the same way on the way up as it does on the way down! I need it work this way! Anyone else have any stupid issues like this!

Clothes of Yesterday

My mother has been asking me to take my brother and dad's stuff from her house for over a couple of months. I haven't been able to get there with a pickup, or empty van to do it. She hasn't had the opportunity to load it up in her truck and bring it to me. She lives in Enid, I in Edmond. She wants it out of her sight, it's too painful, and it's filling up half of her living room. On Mother's Day we went to see her and I grabbed a couple of bags that I could fit in the back of the Yukon and brought them home. It didn't occur to either one of us to throw everything in the back of my brother in laws pickup when we were all there and we were equipped with several able bodied teenagers. So I just got the couple that I grabbed on the way out that day. I put them in my garage. I don't know why I even wanted them, I am just not ready to have someone just take them.

Today, while the kids were playing in the sandbox, I saw one of the bags and decide to look through it. It was clothes of my brothers. My brother dressed one of three ways, really snazzy with very nice clothes, tshirts and holey jeans for work, or sweats and tshirts for comfort near bedtime. I pulled out several nice jeans, Fubu and Levi and a few nice shirts like Tommy and Adidas. It was much harder than I had anticipated. Not as difficult as the autopsy report, but tough just the same. I lost my breath, felt dizzy and sick and even started seeing spots as the pressure in my head mounted. I couldn't even cry, I could barely breathe. Then I found this raggedy old Budweiser tshirt (grey, my favorite color) that was splattered with glue stains. At this, I melted and started to sob. Danny, as well as my father, were both carpet layers or 'floor technicians' and used alot of carpet glue. It was just a standard hallmark of either of them. Finding that stain on someone else's clothes, you would wonder what that funny color and texture is.
I realized how easily people can question God's goodness in such times. How easy it could be for the enemy to get a foothold in especially when you want to ask "Why?". I set in my driveway, clutching this old shirt and through tears and pain and joy I cried out to the Lord "Thank You Jesus! Thank You! Twelve People, that's why!" I am certain that if minions of the evil one were around, they were angry, or at the very least perplexed! (See earlier post called The Best Part!!!!!!!!!! below ).

I do have to part with these clothes and the rest of stuff that will following from both my dad and brother's belongings. But I don't have to part with all of it, and I don't have to do it today. I don't want to toss it in a donation dumpster to be sold really cheap. I don't want it ebayed for top dollar either. I want to keep a few things, maybe a few more. I dunno... but what's left, I think I want to give it to someone that really needs it. Not wants but really needs it. Because that's what my brother would do. He literally gave the shirt off his back before. And his coat too. My sisters and I were talking about Danny and we each realized that when we would see him, he would always have stuff to give us. One day he started to tell me about some of this stuff. "Oh I got a great deal on these shirts for your boys so I grabbed em!" or "Devin gets a discount and bought this really cheap so if will use it, you can have it!" So now, I want to share that giving spirit with his clothes. It seems so silly, but if you've been through it, you know it's not so silly, it's important, as least for me. So I do want to part with this clothes, but when I am ready.

A Little Game I Like To Call....SHAVE THE CAT!!!

Have you ever shaved a cat? I mean a real, live, unmedicated feline? Well, I have!! And, it's not all it's cracked up to be. What I really mean is that it's not really as exciting as one might think.

You see, we have this cat, okay we have four cats (two are babies, so cute!!) but anyway, this one cat, he's the daddy cat. His name is Jacket and he is black and white. Jacket is a long haired, rag doll cat, which means he's really floppy when you pick him up. He's also a mess!!!! Since we live on a fairly large lot, he takes advantage of it. He reigns as far as he's concerned, at least when Rocky (the raccoon) isn't visiting. Jacket runs through the fields, he rolls in the grass, he climbs tall trees and eats june bugs. I am very grateful for the june bug eating. Now if only I can train him to get the crickets..... Oh, okay, back to shaving the cat. Jacket needs his tick and flea medicine put on his back, but he's got a TON of hair. He's shedding right now, so he's getting these little matted balls of loose hair and burs. It's just gross. And he looks awful. So I get this idea....let's shave him!! Not like bald, but really close, so we can see if he has any ticks, get them off, get his tube of tick and flea stuff on. I have my hubby's pair of electric head shavers, problem solved right?! Wrong. My husband will just die when he reads this (sorry Honey!).

So we trap the poor, not so defenseless cat and prepare for the worst. I figured there would be a lot of hissing and kicking and scratching going on. I was prepared to snatch him by the nape of the neck and go to town. With a 1/2" guard on the shavers I turn it on. Nothing happens. Crap, they are broke. Just a bit of noise, no movement. I run back inside, grab the oil and head back out to the 'scene.' Of course I'm doing this outside, this cat is very hairy! Pop off the oil bottle cap and tada...no oil. Dry as a bone. Great. My best friend happens to be on the phone with me and tells me that when she ran out, she used vegetable oil. I have some of that!! What do ya know, as soon as the oil meet the blades they zinged to life! Now, back to the cat.

As I start to put the shavers on Jacket, he wiggles, but does not freak out like I expected. The shavers however, are terrified of this mess and experience performance anxiety. I raked the shavers over the fur and it would grab some. My son would grab if off and I would do another rake. My son said it was like 'mowing the cat.' Indeed it was, but it was like the mower was on the highest setting and only giving the 'yard' a trim, or a thinning. Jacket seemed to think that he was getting groomed with a vibrating brush. For the most part, he lay back and let me thin out his mangy mop.

After about 20 to 30 minutes of not really shaving the cat, my back was killing me. So we decided to go for the tail and call it a day. Jacket was not about to stand for this vibrating brush thing to go after his tail. So when he donned his claws and hissed at us both, we honored his wishes and let him go. Having been 'injured' (sliced my mad cat claw) by a cat about 10 years ago during a 'bath' fiasco, I give up easy! The shavers cleaned up nicely and appear to have never touched the cat. So if my husband doesn't read this blog, and none of my children tattle, he will never know. Yeah, like that will happen!

Far from bald, or even spikey haired, he looks good! No more mats, save his tail and no more burs. He doesn't even look like he was shaved. He just looks like he was given a nice brushing. I don't think the story would be the same if we were trying to shave a cat that wasn't used to being tortured by toddlers. So if you choose to shave your cat, well, good luck.

"Bobbi, Grief is Messy!"

That is what one sweet friend of mine reminded me today. It is messy, and while my house is frequently messy, I don't like my emotions to be. It seems as though I don't have to be rock for my mom every minute and I am trying to allow myself to grieve. I fight crying all the time. I don't want to do it. It makes my head hurt, my eyes red and it makes me feel vulnerable. I certainly don't like to cry around real, live people!!

Yesterday my sister in law received the autopsy report and she scanned it in and emailed it to me. I had to read it word for word, cover to cover. Oh, my, was it ever painful! The only moments I have had that hard were when I was told he was dead. Not the planning, not the funeral, not even the days after. But going through the autopsy was hard. I didn't expect that. When my sister called me to tell me that Tracie received it, I started to tremble. I had shaky hands like I hadn't eaten all day or something. I hadn't even seen it yet. Then I found it in my email and read it, reread it and looked up several words that I didn't have a clue what they meant.

What the funny thing (funny odd, not funny haha) is that the results were exactly what I expected. There weren't any surprises. So why then did it hit me like a ton of bricks flying through the air? I cried with my husband and finally found sleep. Today has not been a stroll in the park. Lots to do with Baskets of Blessings ( http://www.letsgetup.org/). I ran in and out of town 3 times, and one of those times I went up and down my driveway 3 times to run back in the house 3 times to get stuff I forgot, 3 times! I think I may have been preoccupied...!

We went to a birthday party and everyone asked me if I was okay. I asked my husband if I just an open book or what and he said that when something is weighing on my heart that I lack a certain Bobbi-ness that people are used to. What? Okay, so everyone asked me if I was okay, and I really just couldn't even slap on a smile and lie. One of the girls even asked me if I needed to cry and I said "Yes!" Or maybe I just nodded my head, I don't know, I was to busy crying!

My sister called while we were at the party and she told me about calling our sister in law. I told her that I hadn't called her, because I just couldn't. She did talk to her and Tracie said that when she received the report she called the medical examiner because she had some questions. Renda relayed that the M.E. told her that of the two drugs in his system, alprazolam (Xanax) and methadone, neither of them were of lethal doses. They were only fatal because they were together. This was worse than ripping the scab off of a wound, it was more like pouring salt into it. I started to cry all over again. Why does all of this bother me more than seeing him dead or holding his ashes? All I can gather is that it's done now. There isn't anything more to anticipate. Nothing more to deal with, no papers to sign or plots to choose. It's final and it sucks. The enemy is trying to pull that "If only" crap with me. I refuse to fall for it. Danny was meant to go, when he went. I prayed a prayer, many prayers during worship and through lots of tears, prayers of thanks that the Lord took him when he did. The last months and weeks of his life had caused so much pain for everyone around him, and mostly for him. A good friend of mine told me about losing her brother. She said that he was not an over comer and it was as if the Lord finally said "That's enough son, stop this nonsense and come home." That is exactly how I feel about this. The details of the amounts of drugs are just details from the enemy to promote guilt and questioning. Our pastor has said before that 'the devil is in the details' and I know he's right.

As I was driving home after the party I began to think about Danny's life and his death. There was a time last year when we worried about him and cancer. I told him I would let someone saw me in half to save him. I thought about all the people in my life that I am willing to die for. Then I thought about if I would trade my life for Danny's. A bigger picture started to be painted in me as I drove on. The Lord asked me 'What would make a bigger difference for the Kingdom?' I thought about that. My life, his life, his death. It became clear all over again that his death was for a higher purpose. I have never led anyone to Christ personally. But at my brother's funeral, 12 people came into the Family of God! When I talked about this to my husband he said "It's so much bigger when you think of the differences that we may make in someones life, and the difference he made for their eternity." He's so wise! I knew I married him for more than his amazing smile! I heard a song the other day and instantly fell in love with it. It's my new theme song. Something Heavenly by Sanctus Real ( http://youtube.com/watch?v=ZZayut9i45M

All in all, this still stinks. Grieving is messy and I don't know how to do it. I just know I can't do it without Him. Thank you all for your prayers and loving words. I can't tell you what it means to me that so many people ask me how I am, not out of obligation, but out of love. And they really mean it, they don't want me to say 'Fine' with a fake smile, they want me to be honest and get messy if I need to. Thank you guys!

A Midnight Birth

Our little black lady cat, Midnight, came to be 'with kitties.' We were expecting them this weekend. Yes, I actually looked up a feline gestational calendar and had it pinpointed within 48 hours or the big event. Leaving for the conference this Friday morning, I knew I would be gone when she had the kittens. This troubled me, because I had 'doula-ed' our last momma cat when she had her babies. She actually woke me up in the night to be with her while she labored. I'm not even kidding. So, I told my husband to watch her closely. To go and love on her and give her comfort and be with her if she went into labor. He looked at me like I had green hair.

I spoke to Stephen just as we arrived back in town. He told me that Midnight had her kittens, but they were dead. He looked outside today and there was a kitten on the porch, and another in their crate. Certain that there were more than two, he set off to look for them. He didn't find any. We figured that the opossum or coons may have taken to them and carried the tiny ones off. I was disheartened. I prayed for life for our baby kitties! I wanted my children to be able to see the tiny, helpless creatures grow into playful bundles of fur!

As I neared home, I had all but forgotten the kitty situation. I was strangely 'okay' about it. I greeted my family and shortly we went outside to play. My husband began to tell me about finding the kittens and how he searched in vain for others. He said "I thought I heard them, so I listened and followed the sound into the woods, but it was just birds." Just as he finished that sentence we heard a little call. Was it a bird? Was it a lost kitty? I started to run for the woods when Stephen yelled "Watch out where you step! There might be one on the ground." He yelled at the perfect moment. I halted where I was and it was the perfect place. We heard it again and then several more times. The tiny sound came from beside me in a lawn mower bag. The kind that attaches to the lawn mower for grass to shoot into. It was laying beside the garage. I knelt down and looked inside and there, snuggled up together were two solid black baby kitties!! They were alive and well! I eagerly scooped them up and made a bowl out of my shirt. They were silenced at once, even though I was not their milk filled mother.

After taking them inside, we made a cozy hole for Momma Midnight and her two little raven beauties. Daddy Jacket is none to happy that his lady and babies are inside while he is alone on the porch. Don't worry about him though, Midnight goes out to cuddle with him every few hours to get a quick break from the kiddos.

The Elect Lady

And Her Holy Discontent - (Part I)

That was the title of the women's conference that I just returned from. It was at Brookhill Ranch in Hot Springs Arkansas. It was an amazing time of prayer, worship and hearing from the Lord.

My sweet friend Christa just had baby number 10 a month and a half ago. She wasn't able to go on this trip so she gave her spot to me! She then got a full scholarship for another friend of ours, Dawn. I knew that it would be an awesome trip, great learning experience and something I would remember forever. Knowing that, you would think I would be more receptive to what the Lord was trying to tell me. Nah, I guess I am not as quick a learner as I thought.

We hadn't been there long when I had my first big Ah Ha moment. The leaders granddaughter, a young mom named Lynley spoke to us briefly about how our dissatisfaction can become bondage. She talked about how for her it was her house and the duties that came with it. Umm, I can check that box! That is me! My house has been in disarray for so long that it has become normal. I hate that it is this way. Yet, it continues to be this way. Uhhh, Duh! Fix it!

Lynley talked about doing dishes and other chores and that it's not just 'doing dishes.' It's serving your family and making your home a comforting, loving place that people WANT to be! I want that! And I can have that! I am now committed to making my house a comforting, loving place that people WANT to be. But it's bigger than that. I can't really explain it. A burden has been lifted even though I have yet to conquer 'the mess.' Will it be easy? Probably not. But most things worth doing aren't a cake walk. Besides, I like brownies better anyhow.

Ummm... What Will They Wear?

I'm going on a retreat this weekend... and I'm a little nervous about being away from home. I'm not worried about sleeping in a strange bed in a strange place with a bunch of what could turn out to be strange women. I'm not worried that my husband can't handle it, he is a Mighty Warrior and it will be a great Warrior Weekend for him and our four boys. I'm not worried about what they will eat. The oldest two can make everyone food, the third child who is three, will not go hungry. He has no problem hopping up on the cabinet and making his own peanut butter sandwich. I'm not sure why he makes less of a mess than the older two but I digress... The baby, now he is a scavenger so he'll eat the trail that the other boys leave behind, or he'll eat the cat food. Either way, he will not starve.

I AM worried about what my family will put on themselves to cover their bodies! Nearly every stitch of cloth in this house is clean. That is something to cheer for because I can't remember if that has EVER happened in our house. But, the clothes are not put away. There are no less than 7 FULL loads of clean laundry in my room, still in their buckets. It's not that I hate folding laundry, though I do, it's just that I've been busy cleaning out closets and getting rid of a TON of stuff. So I do have somewhat of an excuse. Now, I can spend several minutes (per child, okay per person!) digging through these buckets to find everyone a decent, only semi wrinkled outfit that is at least adequate for a brief public appearance. I can't say that my husband can or will do that! What will they wear? Will they wear the same clothes for the three days I will be gone or just swap shirts with each other and call it good?

As I expressed my heartfelt concern to my best friend (who is also going and is worried about much more important stuff like how she will do for a 6 hour car ride, what if we sleep in a unairconditioned screen cabin, what if there are lots of bugs, what the heck will be do without kids for three days...) and she laughed. Yep, she laughed at me. Then she said "Bobbi, they are boys! All they need is some underwear. They ain't gonna leave the house all weekend! If their underwear get dirty, they will flip them inside out and be good for another day or so." So now, I'm not only worried about their inability to find clothing, I'm also disgusted at the prospect of inside out, dirty underwear wandering around my house getting germs everywhere. Granted, I know it was just a joke, but it was alarming none the less, I do have boys after all.

I then expressed my heartfelt concern to my husband and he laughed. Yep, he laughed too. Is this funny to anyone else? I didn't think so! Then he said "Honey, don't worry about that. We will probably be in our underwear all weekend. We won't be going anywhere!" Did my husband and my best friend discuss my psychosis or is the reality that my family will really be home and undressed for 60+ hours? Then he proceeds to calm my fears by telling me that he and the boys may just build a bonfire in the front yard, roast marshmallows and skewer the nearest pig to smoke. Oh, I feel much better now! 5 nearly naked pale face warriors running around with pointy sticks, loaded up on sugar. This is why Xanax was created friends, and I may need some when I come home to something that resembles Lord of The Flies! Surely, they will remain at least partially clothed, fed on sandwiches and frozen pizzas and warmed by the heater not a fire. But just in case, you'd better keep your livestock locked up.