Another Day, Another Adventure

Grateful

2011-08-23T12:52:00.000-07:00

Remember when I mentioned some days are good and some days are bad? Well, sometimes a bad day can start simply by me hearing or seeing something that just sets me off. I may not even realize what happened until the next day and sometimes not at all. Not to say that I can blame all my issues on everyone else. It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. But you may have unintentionally sent me into a spiral of self pity, anger or sadness.

All I want is for everyone to walk on egg shells around me, is that so much to ask? LOL. No,really, in all seriousness, I do need a certain level of sensitivity right now. I have a broken heart, and it's tender, very tender. Just as you would handle someone with a broken bone with care, I need gentleness. This will take a little forethought, as most of the 'harsh handling' comes from things easily avoided.

There are some things I just can't handle right now. Complaining is a big one. Especially if you are pregnant. If that seems offensive, stop for a minute and think about it. Surely, you can understand why I'm just short of intolerant of this. It hurts. It sounds ungrateful. And it's not fair.

To hear someone complain about something so precious, something I have desired for years, and continue to desire, is incredibly painful. It's like a slap in the face. I'm not saying it's right, or that you aren't physically miserable, I'm just telling you how it feels to me.

When I was pregnant with my oldest son, we lived in Florida. I was sick, and I complained about it constantly. I had no idea that this 'all day morning sickness' would be so bad. A friend of ours, Matthew Tippins put me right in my place. He told me, very sweetly I might add, that I was complaining about something that many women would cut off their own right arm to have. He reminded me that I should be more grateful. He was right.

That short conversation made all the difference to me, and still does. I'm not saying I don't ever complain, or didn't ever gripe about being pregnant ever again. But I can tell you, it cut down my complaining a lot...and with nearly every complaint uttered since then, I am reminded that I have so much to be grateful for. Even now, as I sit here and write this, I am reminded that I DOhave much to be grateful for. And I am grateful. But I still miss my daughter, and I still have bad days, and still need gentleness.

It's amazing how something so brief, from over 13 years ago, can have such a profound effect on me today. God used Matt that day to teach me something. Matt will probably roll his eyes at that thought, as he isn't a believer. He probably just wanted me to quit bitching. But that doesn't matter, believe it or not, he still 'got used'.

Really, we can take what Matt said and apply it to everything. Everyone has something thatsomeone else wants. And everyone has something that can cause them pain when someone else is complaining out it. Some people gripe about their mother in-law while the gal nearby might miss her mother in-law because she died of cancer years before. This lady might complain about her husband working too late when that lady is praying for their husband to find a job, any job, so that they might not lose their house. One might spout off about their car not getting good gas mileage while another is just wishing they had a car that ran. I realize that these are real complaints, real life things that are bothering people. But before you let it pass your lips, think about those around you. Who might you hurt just by tossing out a little complaint? Does it sound ungrateful? And quit complaining about the heat, everyone knows it's hot!

This is for me right now too. What have I said that might have stabbed someone else right in the heart? I'm so torn up about losing my daughter, who I only got to hold for 6 ½ hours, perhaps I have hurt someone that didn't get to hold their daughter at all. And I'm so worried about not being able to conceive again that I may seem ungrateful for the children that I have been able to bare, which could be hurtful to the woman who has never been able to have any children. It's certainly is not my intent, and it's not yours to hurt myself or others, but it still happens, it still hurts.

Losing Ila hurts in so many ways, more than I can describe to you. It has also taught me many things, as well. Some things I never wanted to learn. And some things about gratefulness and gratitude. Some days I am grateful for everything, and some days I don't feel nice enough to be grateful about anything. Yet, every prayer of mine begins with 'thank you'.

Messy

2011-08-12T15:00:00.001-07:00

Today I just want to scream. I want to kick my feet, punch holes in walls and whack softballs so far into the east field that they can't be seen (and yes, I can do that ). I'm sad and mad and anxious and mean and impatient and ugly.

I know some are thinking “Wow, Bobbi is really having a hard time with this.” Well, no shit moron! My kid is DEAD, of course I'm having a hard time with this. Give me a break already, it's only been two months. I get out of bed every morning and I'm not thinking about driving off bridges so I think I'm okay. I'm allowed to be a mess. And I am one!

I think that some of you are shocked at the way I feel or how 'bad' I'm doing, but the truth is, how are you suppose to know how bad or good I'm 'suppose' to be doing or how I should be feeling? You don't. You can't. Unless your kid is dead. And then of course, you know I'm doing just as you would expect me too. I'm sure that some of the things you hear (or see) me say are shocking, or at least a bit surprising. I realize that most people don't throw all of the junk out for everyone to see like I have been. Some people are naturally quiet (I'm not), some naturally keep to themselves (I don't) and some just don't want everyone to see them vulnerable.

Because of this, this normal human behavior, the people that haven't dealt with this directly don't really have an accurate view of what this looks like. It sucks, that's what it looks like. Every day is different and I don't always know what to expect. Some days are fine, other days are reallllly hard. Some days just plain suck. Sometimes I'm on the edge of tears, and other times I am genuinely happy. None of this makes me crazy, none of this is me not dealing well with this. This is what it looks like. This is my life right now.

It's been suggested by a few that I see a counselor. I can take that two ways...one...people think I'm crazy....two...people love me and want to see me through this. I'm gonna go with the 'I'm loved' version. And I do feel loved, but I don't want to see a counselor. I don't want to cry to strangers. I'd rather talk to my friends and relate to the few I know that have lost a child. If you are uncomfortable with this, with me right now, then simply don't reply when I call/text/chat/email if you are afraid I might emotionally vomit in your lap. I don't think that will be a real problem, because I have figured out a majority of who is and who isn't comfortable around me or talking to me about specific things. That doesn't mean I don't love the rest of you, it just means I am leaning on those I know I can lean on right now.

Talking with other gals that are a part of this stupid club, I know I'm okay. Well, not okay...in the words of my dear friend Lydia “I'll never be okay with this”. But okay as in 'within normal parameters' for this situation. It sucks folks, it just plain sucks. It's ugly. It's where I am today.

I realize that I'm hard to please right now, and that might be very frustrating to my friends and family. Some days I want to get out of the house, other days I want to stay home. Sometimes I want to talk, other times I don't answer the phone. One day I will be mad about something thoughtless someone said, the next day I will have grace for their ignorance. Some days I want to be surrounded by people, and other days I want to be alone. Some days I cry out to my God, other days I don't. This is what it looks like. This is my life right now.

Anxiety

2011-08-08T15:45:00.000-07:00

Anxiety. That's the word of the week around here. Well, around me anyway. Yesterday marked 2 months since I held my girl. Two months, and the pain is still fresh. I would say this week was better than a couple weeks ago when I spent the days sobbing. But the better I mean is really better for others. I still hurt. I still hurt a lot. I'm still crying a lot. Some days quite a bit and some days a few tears. Tears aren't exactly how I would measure my level of well being. Right now I am battling my anxiety.

Sometimes I still don't want Stephen to go to sleep before me. Some days I still meet him for lunch just to be around him. I worry that the guys he works with will get tired of having me butt in, but I just need him right now. Sometimes I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach, then a tightness in my chest and my head feels like it might actually just pop right off. Anxiety. I know. Just toss back a Xanax and everything will be fine right? Or postponed..until the band-aid wears off. It comes and goes, it's not unbearable, but uncomfortable.

I never know what might send me into a fit of tears or a frustrated mess. My kids help. A lot. My oldest always has such perfect things to say when I need to hear them most. Well, they all do, but he's all grownupish. Sometimes they have no idea they just sent my maddness out the window.

The clutter in my house is getting to me in a big way. We always have clutter...I'm a terrible house keeper. But lately, not having just one room that is in order, has been driving me crazy....like get up and clean at 1am crazy. I have neglected everything for 2 months and now it's time to tackle it. I might be cleaning off the counter, find a card that someone sent and start crying. I might clean of a desk and NOT find a paper I need and get super angry. I just feel mean. I haven't been meeting friends for things because I just sit there and look like Polly Pissy Pants. I'm not good at putting on a happy face for the sake of everyone else.

Yesterday Daniel crawled up in my lap and started talking to me about Ila. He had a lot of questions and wanted to see her pictures again. He got a little sad and said “I almost makin tears Mom.” And when I did make tears he said “It's okay to cry, I think I gonna cry a little too”. Danny, who wanted a boy baby last time, told me he is ready for a baby sister and it's gonna take a long time again. For the little guys, our pregnancy with Ila was an eternity!! It's so hard to watch them hurt. I can't fix it for them. They lost someone too. And it doesn't matter that they never played with her or heard her cry. They loved her already and were her valiant protectors!

Harder

2011-08-03T21:44:00.000-07:00

When my mom called to tell me that my dad had passed away, I wasn't shocked. I was sad, but not surprised. I don't even remember a lot of tears right away. It was more like, okay, lets get through the funeral. When I was told that my brother was gone, I was in shock. It was like I was standing outside myself listening to the conversation happening. I nearly hit the floor. Literally, my husband had to catch me and lower me to the ground. It was like compounding grief, we hadn't even gotten to the meat of mourning my dad and here we were at it again.

The next week was just stupid. The crappiest Deja Vu ever. Picking out plots, looking at urns, writing the obituary. We were all such a mess. I never imagined that I would go through anything harder than that. Boy was I wrong.

As much as we hate to admit it, we expect that our parents will die before us. And siblings, well, somebody has to go first. But no one ever imagines that one of their kids could go before them. Parents aren't suppose to outlive their children. Period. Yet, the worlds first set of parents did that very thing, just as myself and many others are doing it now. And it REALLY sucks. It's just not fair.

When I first realized how much more I hurt over losing Ila, than I did my dad or brother, I was puzzled and felt a little guilty. How could I hurt so much more over losing someone that I never met outside my body than these two amazing men I loved my entire life? A parent's love for our children is so immense, so limitless, that nothing can compare to it.

The pain that comes with this, is at times, almost unbearable. Right up to the edge of just wanting to die! My heart is broken and nothing anyone can say or do will fix it. I know it will never be totally mended and I will never be the same. I know it will get easier and life will go on. But while I'm here, on this side of that promise, it hurts. Really bad. I realize now that's it's not how long you love someone, it's how deeply you love them.

It's Mean & Ugly

2011-08-03T21:42:00.000-07:00

I'm pissy today. Pissy about nothing, pissy about everything. Nothing set me off, nothing happened to start my bad mood today. It's just here. I'm not mad, I'm not sad, I'm just ugh. Ugh.

Laying down wishing for a nap this afternoon, I looked out the window, only for my view to be blocked by a big shelf decoration that says FAITH. Well it just made me pissy to. Faith in what? "SHOCK, GASP! Did she just say that?" Yep, she did. Faith that my kids will be safe? No. Faith that I will always have a home? No. Faith that we will all have our health? No. Faith that everything will be alright? Absolutely not.

Sure doesn't seem like faith guarantees any of those things. "But Bobbi, the bible says 'ask and it shall be given to you'"! And I have to respond "Well, go ahead. Ask, and it might not." Even Jesus was denied a request. It comes down to God's will. And often times, His will, isn't what we want. Often times, it just plain sucks. Yep, I just said that God's will sucks. Did you gasp again? Was it because I put into words something that everyone has thought and not expressed, or because your life is so perfect and God's will for you has always been a smooth and wonderful road without bumps, roadblocks or discomforts?

The faith I have, faith in God, is all I have. But it doesn't make life easy. It doesn't make me feel safe from the darkness of this world. In fact, it puts a big fat target right on your back. One that is unmistakable to the enemy. He makes life hard. He says mean things. “Well, Bobbi, you are just letting Satan steal your joy.” Whatever. I have no joy to be stolen at this very moment. I can't get back what is causing my pain, therefore, the joy that I”m missing at this moment isn't because it's currently being stolen. Go ahead, next time something terrible happens in your life, just rebuke, just pray, just have faith and I'm sure the whole situation will look like as beautiful as a field of wildflowers in no time.

I'm sure I sound bitter, angry, and mean. Maybe I'm all of those. So what. It's how I feel. You think less of me because of it? Does it make it any different that I said it out loud when God already knows what's being said in my heart? I know I'm being molded, reshaped, worked over through this and hopefully I come out better for it on the other side. So what. Still sucks. I still love my Jesus. He knows I'm not down with this, not happy about this at all. but I know He can take it and I know He loves me too.

It's Raw. It's Real.

2011-07-13T15:08:00.000-07:00

Lots of people are treating me as if they expect me to be back to normal but I'm a freaking WRECK! I want to know when I will feel better, when I won't hurt sooo much. I want these nice, easy answers..."In 2 more weeks you will be able to cook dinner for your family." "3 weeks and 4 days from now, you will no longer cry every day." “ In just 2 weeks, 6 days you will be able to walk into a group of people and not feel like throwing up.” I'm not functioning normally (and I think that's okay) but what am I supposed to do?? I don't wanna go on play dates, I don't wanna have sleepovers and I don't wanna clean my house. I killed my garden and my house is a wreck. We've eaten out every night since meals stopped coming because the thought of planning and then cooking dinner might as well be the same as building a new space rocket, that's how overwhelming it is.

I need help, but I don't know how to ask for it. I feel like everyone thinks I should be doing better and should be able to handle things but I can't! A few days ago, while I was at Walmart with Stephen to get some milk, he asked if I wanted him to cook out chicken for dinner and what I wanted to make to go with it. I seriously thought I would have a panic attack right then. I couldn't even think of two side items. I started to cry right there on the baking aisle. He was quick to comfort me and come up with another solution. Dinner seems to be my biggest obstacle. I know the house is a wreck, but it will still be a wreck when I am able to focus enough to clean it, it can wait. But I do have to feed my family every day. Thank God for dollar menus!

This last week has been way way way harder than the last few weeks. I don't know why. I didn't expect to hit a harder patch. I think that made it even worse, since I just thought I would continue to get a little better. I'm not. I feel like I'm going backwards. It's probably 'normal' but it sucks. I hate crying. It's always been something I consider pointless since it doesn't make me feel any better and leaves me with a headache. Even though I have shed tears every day, I haven't really CRIED much. Like sobbing. That's what I've been doing this last week. Feeling pain and SOBBING. I guess I need to do it. Still sucks, still hate it.

People avoiding me makes me feel like a freak. My daughter is never going to undie and this event is never going to unhappen. I'm not sure how long they plan on avoiding me. I realize that people don't know what to say, and many fear saying the wrong things. If you have a lack of words, just say 'I'm sorry' or 'I love you'. I'd rather have you say something, unless you plan on saying something really dumb, like “Oh, my dog died last week so I know EXACTLY how you feel.” Your words are better to be said, not left unspoken. I have a friend that started posting a little heart on my FB page every few days. That spoke volumes to me. No words needed. Nothing you can say is going to take my pain away, but your words do have the power of life and CAN make me smile, make me feel loved and make me realize that you haven't forgotten about my Ila Claire.

When A Child Dies...

2011-07-08T00:56:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine shared this with me. I think it's great. I thought I would share it with you all...and I kinda added my thoughts at the end...

1. Never tell us that we are doing *it* wrong. *It* is unbearable and we are doing the best there is to do. Honest. If you would do things differently that is fine. But don't tell us. This is not your job or burden to bear and we DO have to do it and you don't.

2. Don't tell us that they are in a better place. We know heaven is nicer than here, but we like them here just fine and really...it feels like you are saying we are not good enough for our child to stay.

3. Please don't tell us ways to save them. We already want to and can't or couldn't.

4. Don't tell us that God *must* heal our child if we just have enough faith. Perfect healing is in heaven for us all and I have yet to meet a Christian who never died. If faith was all it takes to heal everyone NO one would ever die.

5. It hurts us to be told that losing a child to death by sickness or accident is the same a when your 94 year old grandmother died in her sleep 2 years ago. It isn't the same thing at all. We know you are in pain, but it is not the same thing. At all.

6. Please don't expect us to be back to normal in a month and it is a fallacy to say grieving takes a year. We will never be the same and it will take a long time to find our way again. We will never be *over it*.

7. Please help us. Life is so overwhelming that after the death it is hard to even think of HOW to cook a meal, let alone do it. And if our child has not died yet, please offer to help in any and every way possible. If you are far away, money helps us to buy help.

8. Let us cry. We are so sorry that it makes you uncomfortable, but it is a fact of our life now. Tears will come and it doesn't mean that it is bad to talk about our children, only that we are deeply grieving them.

9. It means a lot to us when you remember our child. Expecially later when it feels like everyone has forgotten.

10. Having another baby is not the answer to losing the one that died.

11. It is NOT easier, or harder, that we have other children. No one can replace the one that died.

12. Please don't watch us as though we are about to throw ourselves into the open grave. None of us likes to be thought of as a freak show. And please think of us as something other than the-lady-whose-kid-died. That is a hard definition to live with. But also please be gentle with us for quite a while. We can't handle rough treatment.

13. We may gain weight, or lose weight, or sleep more, or not sleep at all. We may be sad for a long time. It does not mean something wrong with us. It just means we are profoundly changed.

14. We will never be the same as you once knew us. Please don't expect us to be.

15. Remember that our families are hurting too.

16. We can't help you through our child's death. We recognize that it is hard for many people but please don't lean on us as we go through this. We can't hold you up. We have other people that we have to help already. Come and help hold us up instead please. Pretty please?

Warmly,

Corinne Kligmann

My little notes...

2. ==== A friend of mine that lost her two year old son years ago explained this to me and it is soooo true. My selfish stinginess wants my Ila right here, where I can hold her and love her! There's time for heaven later!

5. ==== Comparison of any kind just really isn't fair. Losing your 94 year old grandmother isn't the same as this, and neither is a miscarriage. I struggle with this a lot. I lost my baby, my daughter, but it somehow seems unfair to those that lost an 15 day old, an 11 month old, a 2 year old or a 17 year old, to call what I am going through 'losing a child.' I would never compare my loss to theirs. It still strikes me that I hurt sooooo much over a person that I only knew as a little bump that kicked me. That's part of what hurts so tremendously. I have no memories with her. Not once did I get to see her wiggle, hear her cry or watch her breathe. That hurts more than I can tell you. What I wouldn't give for just one brief moment to have a memory of her with me!

6. ==== This is something else I struggle with. I know people don't know how to act or what to say, but I promise you this, acting as if everything is the same, is not the answer. I got the first 'real' look at what my life could look like for a while when talking to another mom who went through this very thing, not something similar, but this very thing. She said something that hit me “You might just cry a lot this year. And maybe next year.” That's something I've been wanting to know. When will I not cry every day? When will I be able to cook dinner for my family? I want some text book answer so I know when things might be better, but there are no easy answers. Honestly, for me, it's been much harder this week than it has been for the few weeks before that. Perhaps I was just plugging through, trying to make it through the first month. I dunno. I just know that this week, I'm a mess. I'm not okay, I'm sad. Ask me how I'm doing and I will probably lie. I will say I'm fine or I'm okay. I'm lying. I'm so far from okay or fine. If you ask me in person, I will probably just cry and shrug my shoulders.

7. ==== I always enjoyed the meals after having a baby. You are busy nursing and learning all about each other. Grieving is so much harder. You don't remember to eat or to drink or even to sleep. Everything is a fog. I can't tell you how many days we didn't even eat until someone showed up with food for dinner. I'm still not eating. I don't usually eat until dinner unless I meet Stephen for lunch. It's not because I'm not hungry or I don't want to eat, I simply don't remember to do it. I still can't prepare a meal for my family. My kids are living on cereal and sandwiches. Seriously, if we have a hot meal, it's eaten out or it's leftovers that my mother in law sent home with us. I don't know why I can't function on basic levels like preparing a simple dinner, I just can't. I realize it sounds dumb. It sounds dumb to me. Every task is just so overwhelming!

8. ==== I feel like I am a burden to my friends and family. Who wants to sit and listen to someone cry. And cry. And cry. I hate it. I hate crying and I'm not quick to drop tears. If I cry in front of you, feel blessed that I felt comfortable enough and safe enough with you to let them go.

9. ==== I don't feel like anyone has forgotten....yet. But I do have people that are avoiding me and that hurts. Others are simply acting like nothing ever happened. If I run into you at the store, you don't have to say anything, but maybe a sad smile, or a rub my shoulder or something that just says “I know what happened.” To act like the entire thing never occurred not only pisses me off but it's disrespectful to my entire family, or at least I think it is. It also causes me to panic and think... “Oh crap, they don't know. I have to tell them before they ask me when I had the baby because I don't want them to feel bad.” Then I tell them only to hear “Oh ya, I heard.” I ran into a sweet daughter of a friend the other day. The first thing she said was “I heard about your baby and I'm so sorry.” It was such a HUGE blessing that she recognized my baby instead of ignoring her. It really is a big deal.

10. ==== No it isn't. I do want more babies, I wanted them before I lost Ila and I still do. I would like to get pregnant soon, but that isn't because I want to replace my baby girl, and it is important to me that people understand that. I want to get pregnant soon because I have fear about not getting pregnant again and for me, the sooner the better. It took so long last time that I'm fearful it will take a long time again. And I'm just impatient. Oh, and I'm not getting any younger. I don't like the phrase “Will you try again.” That makes it sound like we tried and we failed. I don't mind being asked if we will have more babies or if we plan on getting pregnant again.

11. ====I tend to disagree with this one just a little bit. For sure, no one is replaceable my anyone else, but I know that for me, having other people that depend on me, like my husband and children, is what makes me get up in the morning. If my mom didn't have 3 daughters and a shizbang of grandkids, I'm certain she would have drank special Kool-Aid after my brother died and ended it all. One gal that I met that lost her only child feels like her entire motherhood was stolen from her. So, to some, it does make it a little easier, or a least a little more important, that will stick around and get through this.

12. ==== I'm afraid to go places. Really. I'm afraid to be around others that know me. Especially groups. I don't know why it frightens me, but unless it's a small group of close friends, I almost want to vomit walking into a situation like that right now.

13. ==== I know I'm hard on myself and I guess I expect others to be hard on me too. I do have a great support system and fabulous friends that assure me I can be a mess. Losing weight surprised me. I'm a fat chick, tend to eat my feeling so when the scale was tipped the other day, I was really surprised! I wouldn't recommend grief as a weight loss method, but hey, I guess I'll take it! Sleep doesn't come easy for me and in the morning I'm soooo tired from not sleeping for most of the night.

B.

Why I'm Afraid of the Dark...

2011-07-08T00:45:00.000-07:00

Why I'm afraid of the dark....ok, I'm not really afraid of the dark, but nighttime now brings a new set of thoughts and feelings. When the day settles down and my distractions are few, my mind has time to roll over things that hurt. There is time to go over what happened, remember Ila's sweet face, and miss her so intensely that I usually cry.

If Stephen falls asleep to long before me, I almost panic. I hate being alone. I can do nothing but pray and rebuke the devourer. If I don't, I get attacked. It sucks. I toss and turn for ages. Sometimes, if sleep won't come, I get up. But still, I don't want to be alone. Its at that time when some lucky soul that happens to be online gets all of my emotional vomit in their lap. It's when I really need a listening ear and encouraging words.

In addition to the heartache, I also have a headache. I've had one everyday since i gave birth. At first I figured it was from dehydration and crying, and it probably was, but since now I don't spend the entire day crying and I do remember to drink water, my guess is that it's hormonal. I wake up each day with a light headache but it usually goes away, or it's minimal enough that I don't notice it while going about my day. Evening hits and I start to feel it. It gets gradually worse all evening and by bedtime it's terrible. The longer I stay up, the worse it gets, and it's hard to go to sleep because I have a headache and I'm thinking about my baby girl.

One Month

2011-07-08T00:38:00.000-07:00

Today, July 2nd, marks one day since I had my little girl. I expected it to be a hard day. Don't get me wrong, it was hard, but it was not as hard as I expected. The morning was difficult. We got up and started to get ready to go to Enid. The day kind of loomed ahead of me. I knew it would be hard, and it was as if it was already planned out for me, like the weather man saying "and today folks, we have a 100% chance of sadness with a huge possibility of tears".

We ventured out of town and the clock in the van seemed much larger than it really is. As the minutes clicked by I recalled what was happening to me at that same moment a month ago. As the hour of Ila's birth neared, my stomach knotted up. I don't know why the minutes mattered any more than the day itself.

Just as we got everyone into my mother in law's house the tears started to come. I didn't really hide so much as go out of the way a bit to avoid making everyone else sad. My sweet husband 'found' me and loved on me. He's such a great comfort. This last month I haven't wanted to be away from him at all.

We left the boys at Grandma's house and headed out to prepare the lake house for the upcoming holiday. I scrubbed and cleaned all day while Stephen and his dad took care of the outdoor work. It was nice to spend the day helping someone else. I thought of Ila often but didn't spend my day in a puddle, which was what I anticipated after the last couple days being so hard. So many friends offered me such comfort and a needed release just by listening to me talk ( or type ).

As we finished our days work and headed back into town, I started to get that knotted feeling again. We had planned to go out to the cemetery with the boys to show them where she is buried and place a pretty pink pinwheel we picked out. The closer we got, the sicker I felt. I honestly thought I might throw up, literally this time! I sent a text to a few prayer warrior friends of mine and asked them to pray for me. I'm not one to go to cemeteries and put out flowers and such. But for some reason, it was important to me to go there today.

Just how most things turn out, it was different than I expected. When we first arrived I kind of stalled a little at the van while half the family ran on ahead. When I made my way over to my family, I wasn't crying or throwing up. I was kind of a numb feeling for a bit. When Stephen and I started talking is when my tears started to pour out. I love him so much and I'm sad for him too, he also, lost his lil' cupcake.

We talk about our baby, our boys and had a sweet moment reflecting on a special aspect of her name. While gathering up our troops we meander through the cemetery and little Stephen talks to me about a couple of headstones. He questions one that has two names but one name only has one date. I told him it was a husband/wife plot but the wife was still alive. He seemed completely baffled by that and really made a face when I said Meme's headstone was already there. We drove over to where my Dad, grandma and brother are buried to show him. As soon as Danny jumps out of the car he points at my dads headstone, not even knowing it's his Papa's, and yells "I call that motorcycle!!!" It lightened the mood in a perfect way.

Tonight I am grateful that I got to tuck my boys into bed, sing Jesus Loves Me, kiss my husband and remember my daughter. Tonight, with a peace that only God can provide, I will sleep. Today was a good day.

6 years, 4 weeks and 2 days

2010-04-08T22:27:00.000-07:00

What a dumb day! You would think getting your braces off would be a good day, albeit a bit painful. Not so in this case. In fact, it was one of the worst 'good' days I've had. It reminded me very much of my 16th birthday, another of those days that was suppose to be great but ended up sucking big time.

Slide backwards a few years...ok almost 1/2 my life ago... Sweet 16, something to get excited about eh? My oldest sister, Ronda, bought me roses and balloons and had them delivered to the school. My other sister, Renda, came to town to take me after school to get my license. Lunch time rolls around and I run out to the parking lot to discover that both of my lunch buddies have abandoned me. My boy friend thought I was going with my best friend and my best friend, Kenda, thought I was going with my boyfriend.

Nice. Alone, on my birthday, my 16th birthday, carrying around a bunch of roses and balloons. I go to the office to call my sister to tell her that I'm not staying at school the rest of the day and ask her to please come get me now! I then walk out to the parking lot lovingly dubbed "BFE" where Kenda's Granny Wagon is parked. (Sidebar - It may have seemed like an old station wagon but we LOVED the Granny Wagon! It was awesome! And nobody could do the Washington 'Dip' better than Kenda in the Granny Wagon!) All my stuff was LOCKED inside the Granny Wagon. All my stuff, my purse, my books, my backpack. We lived like a block away from each other, it's not like I couldn't have just got everything from her after school. But that isn't the point!

I see that the little flip window was open and try to stick my arm in to unlock the door, no good. My arm is way to short. The vice principal is driving through the lot about that time and I am sure I'm about to get in trouble for trying to break into a car. When he gets out I just started to explain that all my crap is in the car and I'm locked out and everyone left me for lunch...all while on the brink of tears. So, like any good principal, he helped me break into the Granny Wagon. He never asked if it was my car...and I never said it wasn't. So after several near melt downs my sister shows up, I get my crap and we are off. I wish that today had been that good of a day...

I don't do mornings. I just don't. I hate being up early, and early to me is before 9:30 and even then, I'm not happy about my sleep being over. Today I had to get up and take Stephen to work since we are a one van family right now. I get back home just in time to get everyone ready since I have an appointment at 10:20 to get my braces off! Yippee!

9:35 - All kids dressed, all kids loaded into the van...wait, there is one missing... why is the oldest not here... He's getting the dog hooked up on his chain, but then here he comes with the dog collar in hand and the dog close behind him. "I was looking at some birds and I tripped and spilled his dog food and it was too far from his chain for me to hook him up..I tried to drag him over to it, but he slipped out of his collar."

I hop out of the van, have Stephen fetch some ham, and head back to Duke's chain. After untangling it from the pole I use the ham to get him close to the collar, but he's fast and dodges in and out to quickly. After a few more tries we get him recollared and hooked to his chain. In house, wash hands, out of house, back in van, on way.

We arrive at Stef's house to unload all the kids that are staying with her. Randon is going with me since he has a consult appointment since his teeth are just like mine were, jacked up. After the dog fiasco, we are running late so I run kids in and run back out and we are off. All is well. We had to go the south office for this appointment so it is quite a drive. We get there only 5 minutes late, doing good. We get back to the room fairly quickly and I take my seat in the exam chair. Everyone is amazed that I am FINALLY getting these suckers off. Doc comes in and starts snapping off those brackets. The force it took to get them off, I am surprised that kids break them off so often. It doesn't really hurt much, just like the pressure when they change my wires and not as bad as when they would pull those power chains so tight I think my teeth might shatter.

Then he gets out his little drill with the sandpaper style head on it and starts grinding away the glue spots on my teeth. Not so bad....except the assisting, Heidi, is squirting water in my mouth too and the limited suction is causing me to feel like I'm drowning. Every now and again when I start to gag and sputter, they pause and get the lake out of my mouth. Now...they get to my front teeth, and they are sensitive. That drill and cold water was more than I bargained for. I was white knuckling the mirror they had given me to hold in one hand and the exam chair with the other. I even made some noise a few times that I needed a second. They would just keep on going with no reprieve until I started thrashing my feet a little bit or pulling my head back! Not fun! If you have ever had a cavity and then taken a big drink of ice cold water and it hit that cavity and it sent you to the roof...it was like that, only on several teeth at one time and I couldn't just warm my mouth back up or make it stop in any way! NO BUENO!!

My heart rate is through the roof and I'm actually getting nauseous and shaky over all this. I must say, I'm a touch chic, and I've been through hell and back with my teeth, jaw and face over the past 7 years and I can handle a LOT of dental pain. Not saying this to brag, just to express the magnitude of the disaster of today considering all that I have been through with dental work, oral surgery, oral surgery, orthodontics, oral surgery, oral surgery and more orthodontics. After more grinding of glue, drowning on water and being sent to the roof, we are done. Oh, Happy Day, the braces are off and my teeth are smooth and I'm not even sore. I know they will ache a little in the days to come, but usually I leave that place feeling like I want a chocolate shake for dinner (eaten with a spoon since even sucking through a straw hurts like crazy).

We then have to do my impressions, which I have done twice before, and already knew they weren't fun and make you want to gag. Two lower, two upper. No biggie. Done. Pick up retainers in a couple hours. Got it, can do!

Now it's Randon's turn for his consult. They had already done his x-rays while I was being drilled to death by the glue getter. Doc takes a look, tells me what's going, no surprises, let's do it. His impressions didn't go as well as mine. He screams, he cries, he kicks, he pukes. Twice. A quick visit with Sami, a sweet, quiet young gal who is an expert on the financial end of this mess, 600 bucks later and a contract for a few thousand more we are done. Again. Praise God, lets go eat.

Randon picks Chick-Fil-A for lunch and we go in, sit down and enjoy a nice lunch together recalling some of the horror we had just experienced together that has surely bonded us for life while causing him years of therapy and me years of Xanax use. With still a little time to kill before we have to pick up my retainers (which will be quick in, quick out) we decide to run to Michael's which is only about ten miles away according to my husband. We head out in the direction he sends us only to end up NOT where he told us we would. Then he argues with me about where I am and where I am not. Whatever, I get there....way after I expected to, run in, don't have what I want, run out and head back to the torture chamber, I mean the orthodontics office.

We run in and sit. And sit. And sit. I finally approach the counter to remind the front desk gal, Anna that I have to go all the way back to Edmond to relieve my sitter of the 7 kids she has and her shift was up hours ago. Normally I would be thrilled to wait there for an hour if need be since I'm usually childless and can read a magazine and never once have to say something like "Will you please not shove your brother's finger up his nose....or your nose." They got me back quickly so I know we are on the home stretch. Lets try these suckers on, adjust to fit and head home. Or not.

Kim comes in with these mouth pieces for me that look like I'm in the corner prepping to fight Rocky. She asks me to try them on. I get the bottom one on no problem, the top doesn't fit so well. It's down fairly low in my mouth. I know they want me to wear these all the time and that is just laughable considering I sounded like I had an entire Snickers bar stuck to the roof of my mouth. Doc comes in and takes a look. Oh, no, that isn't all the way on...so he jams it up over my teeth while I try not to die. Once in, the retainer itself didn't hurt. My left molars did since they were the only teeth making any contact with each other when I bit down. I always love it when they say "Bite down. (pause) Bite down all the way on your back teeth." I freaking am, but only a couple of them touch each other okay!

Doc sits up the chair and suggests I practice taking them in a out a few times before hitting the road. Sure, no problem. Bottom one out, back in, back out, back in. Tada! I'm a pro! Now for the top. Umm, this isn't working, it's not coming out...at all. "You will probably have to use your fingernails to pull down on both sides to get it down." Doc says. Uh huh, yea, um, no. Not moving. My nails are like paper and bend and shred at the slightest use so there is no way these weak babies are getting this new super glued layer of nightmare plastic off my teeth. Clearly, it will have to stay on forever. Kim comes in again and says she will help me get it off. She takes a crack at it and it's still on. I'm certain it's now permanent, or I will want it to be after they start trying to pry it off.

Kim disappears for a minute and comes back donning this little pink plastic thingy with a hook at one end. She tried to hook it on the retainer and pull down. Again with the white knuckling! After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably more like a year or so, it's about 1/2 way off. Randon is visibly concerned and comes to my side to hold my hand. As Kim starts to tug on it again I start to grip whatever is near as my teeth feel like they are being pulled from my mouth. I push Randon's hand away after I realize I am digging my nails into his wrist and grab onto the arm rest. It literally felt like 3 or 4 of my teeth were being torn from their sockets as the retainer was being pulled down. There were tears in the corners of my eyes and my heart was beating like crazy. I could feel my blood pressure rise and my hands start to shake.

With all that I have had done to my face, there have only been three times I have wanted to scream, cry or kick someone. Once was when a young guy at the orthodontics office was replacing a wire and was jamming the end into the flesh at the back of my mouth so deep I almost kicked him. I guess he stopped when my mouth pooled with blood. The second was during a follow up to one of my oral surgeries where a shunt was placed in my cheek to drain infection from a previous surgery into my mouth (yes, it was a gross as it sounds). My doc was unavailable so some torturous fellow filled in and squeezed my face so hard with some pointy tweezers that he bruised my cheek. I almost kicked him too, really...I was thrashing pretty good. I swear he enjoyed it.

Kim had to stick the retainer remover in a few different spots to get the retainer off of my teeth and out of my mouth. Each place it was put felt like it was being stabbed with needles since my gums were swollen and sensitive. After it was finally off, I laid in the exam chair, flustered and depleted while texting my husband about the horrifying experience. It's a good thing he wasn't there, he wouldn't have been very nice with me in pain, even when it wasn't anyone's fault.

Kim worked on the retainer and came back and tried again. Similar experience as before but with a little less tugging, while knuckling and tears. She goes back yet another time to work on the retainers. Finally this time I don't want to run screaming from the place when I put them on. Taking them off still hurts like crazy, but it's doable without screaming or striking anyone. In other words, it's safe to come into the bathroom while I'm doing it, but don't ask me for anything because the answer is still "OOooowww!!"

Completely wiped out both physically and emotionally, Randon and I drag our defeated selves to the van and drive back to Stef's with very minimal exchange of words. We get back to Stef's and wonder into the house. Kids are mostly outside but a they venture in a couple at a time and view my new look, a look some of them have never seen before since it hadn't existed during their lifetime. After apologizing profusely for being extremely late and messing up Stef's date with Eli, I decided to load up the kids and head out. Problem number 1, shoes. Everyone has taken off their shoes in different places and only one kid could locate and put his one without assistance from everyone around! After what seemed like forever, the kids are shoed and shoved out the door. I run back in to grab the keys but can't find them anywere.

Stef and I, along with the oldest kids start hunting down the keys. We look under the table, all through my purse (three times) and all over the kitchen before finding them....in the van. Locked. In. The. Van. As this sinks in I flip the switch and start with the psycho mommy voice and try to retain some semblance of control over the situation, kids and myself. Some are looking better than others. Micah pulls up just in time to enjoy the near miss of a psycho mommy melt down. He finds a wire hanger and he and Stef attemp to break into my van while I head for the medicine cabinet for something that might help me to not scream bloody murder and run down the street waving my arms around like a maniac.

Finally, the car thieving couple get the deed done and we are in the car...with the keys. I load up 4 children so we can pick up Daddy from work, then Landon from work, then Lynley from Grandma's to take Landon home, and Lynley to our house.

Since I hadn't gone grocery shopping yet our options for dinner were chicken and nothing. So Lynley and Aven go to the store to get some side dishes for our dinner while I lay down in my bed and shut the door. I feel straight to sleep. I know it wasn't long, since the store isn't very far, but that little bit of time, that brief check out of reality, did wonders for the rest of the night. My blood pressure my still have been a little up...but I was able to calmly enjoy some grilled chicken and shells and cheese with my family.

I wish I had some grand ending to this terrible story but I don't. I've been told so many times over the past 6 years, 4 weeks and 2 days "Oh you will be so glad you did it when it's all over." I've been told countless times between visits to the oral surgeon (to have my lips peeled back, gums sliced open and bones chiseled and spread apart, teeth removed, shunts put in and shunts taken out) "Oh, it's not that bad and it won't be forever." And I've heard it said many times as I go back and forth to the orthodontist (to have brackets put on, expanders put in, removed, retainers in, retainers out, bands here, spacers there, buttons here, power chains there, springs here, hooks there) "It will be all worth it when it's over!"

Well guess what all of you people who have said "You will be glad you did it, "It won't last forever or "It will be worth it when it's done." It's over, it didn't last forever, it's done and you know what? I wish I had never done any of this. It was not worth it, it was a terrible experience I would never wish to repeat and I would wipe it from my history of experiences if I could. Perhaps it's just easy for me to sit here and type this since I'm no longer in the place I was in before we began this journy. That place where I couldn't open my mouth wide enough to get in a Hershey's Kiss. If I had to visit there again I might reconsider...I do love a Hershey's kiss......Nah, there's always chocolate shakes!

So many Questions...

2009-07-12T00:14:00.000-07:00

Some things I just don't understand.....

Why there is a kid sleeping in the closet..(it is a big closet..but it's still a closet!)
Why Aven thinks he should get up and eat everything in site at 2am
Why are Daddy Long Legs everywhere at my house..in the sink, on the house plants, all over everything outside
Why Labrador retrievers are dumb for so long

There are soooooo many things I don't understand...but that are the few plaguing me tonight!

Silly Putty......The Scourge of Fabrics Everywhere

2008-07-20T02:16:00.000-07:00

This evening my husband and I tucked our children into bed and left them in the care of my sis in law while we ventured out to spend some quality time together doing laundry! Yes, laundry. Our dryer is broken, so we went into town to use the dryers at the apt complex that my sister manages. When we arrived home we found our sweet three year old cuddled on the couch with his cousin Miranda.

While we were putting things away a teary eyed Miranda came in with her baby doll, covered in green silly putty. History....this doll.....Lucy, has been Miranda's baby doll since she was one year old. Her daddy got it for her on a quick trip to the store and brought it to her during a short hospital stay she endured. This doll has been through 9 years of some serious loving. She is faded and worn, but is still and always will be a treasure. The silly putty came from another of our nieces birthday party this afternoon.

When I saw the doll, I tried to remain calm, for Miranda's sake. Stephen tossed the doll in the freezer and then we pulled off the excess putty. Most came off, but there was still a large stained area where there wasn't really any to remove, but the color and tiny bits remained. I hopped online and found a fix. Alcohol. And of course, I'm out. But I do have some alcohol prep wipes! I fetched the box of those and went to work on the face, neck and chest of Lucy. Within minutes she was looking great and smelling like she had just come from outpatient surgery. The Westfamily Surgical Center got 5 stars from Miranda, Tracy and Lucy!

Miranda's tears were gone and she was ready to go back to bed. Then she found more silly putty. Only this time, it was in Daniel's hair. A very large, mostly irremovable chunk of green silly putty was smashed into the back of his beautiful hair. After a tug or two it became apparent that alcohol wasn't to play a part in this surgery...we had to go straight for the razor. Okay, not a razor really, but the clippers anyway. No guard either, we couldn't get one under the mess. Daniel was not happy as Daddy held him and I preformed the first cut. It came off rather quickly, with only three or four quick snips but lots of yelling and some flailing about.

Luckily, Daniel's curls had been cut off several months ago. Had this happened to Aven, who still has curls, I would not have been able to just shave off his hair all the way to the skin! It wasn't ideal with Dan Dan either, but at least his hair is mostly short to began with. Now we will just have a story to tell about why he has a bald spot. Surely we can come up with some interesting stories like he had a grey spot so we cut it out instead of dyeing it, or he chronically rubs that spot until the hair falls out or he wanted to go bald but when he felt the bare shavers he changed his mind. I could draw on some stitches and we could pretend that one of his brothers helped him sustain an injury that required a shaved head and some local anesthetic. Of course there are many more....any ideas?

Year In Review - Blood Sweat and Tears

2008-07-19T00:10:00.000-07:00

Rain, Rain....Go Away!

If you live in Oklahoma and recall anything about summer 07, you will recall the rain. That's pretty much all it did that summer, rain. And then it rained some more. After that, it rained again.

We live on about 5 acres, and I love every inch of it. I love to hold events at my house to enjoy this space. When our homeschool group halted it's summer meetings, I offered to hold, not meeting, but get togethers at my home each month. This way, we could still take a break from the meeting style setting, but still enjoy the fellowship of each other. Just days before our first gathering was scheduled, it was raining...go figure. Our yard was so soggy that we had to cancel the get together. I was not happy about it. But there was always next month!

The soggy mess continued and for days we couldn't open our garage door because of all the water rushing by it. There is no ditch or drain out near the road by our house. Water and more water runs into one of our fields from I don't even know how many acres to our west. All of this water then runs down and pools beside the driveway. After it levels with the driveway, it runs back up towards the garage, fills the cement driveway in front of the garage, travels down the sidewalk and out across the front yard. As if this isn't enough, while the rain is coming down, it can't make this journey fast enough so the water also spills over the driveway from the 'pond' and takes out across the front yard from another direction. After running through the yard and taking a significant amount of dirt with it, it spills down under the fence...where erosion has removed several feet of earth and there it forms a creek. Behind the mini barn thing and out into the south east field and its on its way towards the lake.

When we moved into this house, I decided this place needed a name. Between Scissortail Landing and Deer Run, Deer Run stuck. On the phone with my husband one afternoon, letting him know the extent of this particular day's flooding, I said "Well, I was thinking of changing the name from Deer Run to A River Runs Through It." Once, Stephen called to say he was on his way home and I told him that at the bend of the driveway, it was likely that he would have to abandon car and swim for it. Other days I told him to stop by Academy and pick up a canoe so that he could get to the house! While those are obviously just exaggerations, our family thrives on the humor that comes out of all situations. Not everyone would appreciate the way we see some things as just plain laughable.

It was beyond wet. No shoe could survive a trip to the van, even it was parked in the closest spot. There was no way you could park in the yard to shorten the trip, it was so soggy the van would have been our new yard flamingo, but more expensive and less vibrant. On days that the rain didn't pour down from the sky all day long, we were never dry. Our pond remained filled and we had three ducks. Really, we had three ducks that came here every day that we had water to swim in. The kids enjoyed to 'pond' too and they had a great time chasing those ducks around. We also had our very first time witness of wildlife love in action. "Oh honey, that duck isn't hurting her (on our porch)!"

Many a days did I stand on the porch watching the water rushing by wondering if it would overtake us. It was so close on a few occasions. Had the water reached the top of the porch, it would have been right in the house, as the porch is tilted. Had the water reached the house, it would have been in my living room, as it is sunken.

When we investigated the flooding in the garage, it was, well, wet. Really wet. We rented a giant dumpster and our LifeGroup came over and helped us clean up the soggy mess. As we sifted through the moldy puddles and soaked boxes, we realized the water went much further into the garage then we thought it did. In some places the water went all the way up the back wall. The dumpster was filled with damaged stuff from our garage. Lots of it was junk. I mean before the flood! After it, nearly everything was junk! It was certainly a way to lighten our load and for the most part I was okay with it. When we found things that were special I was upset. I had to throw away moldy photographs and lots of artwork that my children had made when they were very young. A box of my oldest sons stuffed animals got ruined and he did not take it lightly when we had to chunk his things in the trash.

Large black stains marked the floor in each place a moldy box was pulled up. I learned that nothing should ever be stuck in a cardboard box. Even though the water was only a few inches high, the cardboard just soaks up the water and ruins everything inside. We tossed yearbooks, birthday cards and momentos of all kinds. We lost clothes and Christmas stuff, computer parts and more. As I think back about it, it saddens me remember what we had to throw out, but I remember that they are just things and my memories do not require tangible items in order for me to enjoy them. That was a lesson that I know will benefit me forever, as it has come in very handy during the past year.

It's amazing how, so many times, we can see God's hand all over our messes that are so much more than just messes. Did that make any sense? I mean, being able to look back and see His purpose for our mess. The Lord gave us humor to deal with lots of soggy, smelly, ruined shoes. He reminded us that we have our memories as we sifted through garbage bound keepsakes. He gave us ducks to enjoy while our house was all but floating away. He even gave us a rainbow to remind us He has all things under control.

Year In Review : Blood, Sweat and Tears

2008-07-12T22:19:00.000-07:00

July may seem like an odd time to do a review of the last year. It's actually going to be a little more than a year, as our 'adventure' started in June. For us, the last year has been a roller coaster ride of ups and downs, giving and receiving, highs and lows, openings and closings, laughter and tears, openness and withdrawl, joys and sorrows.

At church this weekend, during a sermon on loss, this verse reminded me of what I had already written in the paragraph above.
Ecclesiastes 3 A Time for Everything
1 There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
2 a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
6 a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8 a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

June 2 - Stephen and I had been talking about opening up a church in Enid for quite some time. We had lots of great excuses like "Oh, we are expecting." or "We have a baby." or "Our van isn't reliable." and a host of others. We went to church to hear the last week of a series called Fearless. This particular sermon was on 'facing your Goliath." The gentleman that spoke talked about how is most recent Goliath was the sermon itself, as it was the first one he had ever given. During service Stephen leaned over to me and said "Enid is my Goliath." I acknowledged his statement and continued to listen to the sermon.

As we were getting up to leave, Stephen said "We are going to Enid next weekend." I replied with something really clever like "You mean, like the one seven days from now?" Uh, huh. I asked several questions on the way towards the exit, which takes quite a while when you sit in the front row. He didn't know the answer to most of them, but he knew we were going, and that's all he needed to know right then.

The following week we packed up our van, hauled our family and a bunch of stuff to Enid to set up church in the American Legion. Since we had zero advertising, we put on church for our mommies! We did a couple of weeks of 'dry runs' before we even made some fliers. One afternoon after packing things back up, we went to lunch at one of our local favorite restaurants. My husband had previously worked for the owner and I suggest that he ask if we could put out some fliers. He did, and we left a small stack of fliers there. Those were the only ones that we ever put out. From that small stack of fliers, an amazing transformation occurred!

A gentleman picked one up and excitedly called his coworker and friend and read it to him. The gentleman he called was Marshall Billingslea. Marshall made a bunch of phone calls, tracked us down at home and talked to Stephen about what we were doing in Enid. The Billingslea family came to our rented room at the American Legion the following week and instantly became an intricate part of Anew Church. A year and two moves later, the church has grown so much!

There is so much more to come in this 'Year In Review.' I hope you will visit again to read about everything from puppies and kittens to injuries and surgeries. We will also cover flood, fire, fungus, famine, foliage, flood (yes, twice) and funerals. We will cover the good, the bad and the ugly.

What is your favorite memory of your past year?

The Retriever.....He Retrieves!

2008-07-02T11:56:00.000-07:00

We have a new puppy. His name is Duke. Duke is an adorable

yellow lab. Duke is quite possibly the cutest puppy ever. This morning, he and I played for a long time before the kiddo's ever got up. We bought him a store full of toys, and we had to get him the miniature tennis balls.

I started tossing his little ball across the living room and say "Get the ball Duke, get the ball!" and he would get it! Then I would say "Bring it to Momma!" and most of the time, be brought it back to me! First of all, I have never taught a dog anything, so if it does something for me, then it must be instinct!

We've had Duke for less than a week and fell in love with him immediately. He rides in the car with us, sleeps peacefully in his crate (most of the time) and hasn't been to terrible with accidents considering his age. He's almost 8 weeks.

The boys want him to sleep with them (on their top bunks!) so bad they can't stand it. Aven loves to play with him. He runs and giggles as Duke chases after him. When the puppy sniffs Aven's toes, he belly laughs so hard he can hardly breathe! It's hysterical!

We think Duke's favorite new family member is the teddy bear that he gave his heart to. Well, that wasn't exactly his heart he gave to it, but he 'loves' it just the same! Our last dog was female so we didn't have to deal with the male 'instinct' and I'm not liking it at all. While he hasn't 'enjoyed' anything but the bear, I can just see him jumping visitors legs in the future! I know he is bound to do it in front of the boys very soon. At least we had kittens recently so we have covered a little on the subject of animal mating. Maybe it will encourage them to keep all their stuffed toys off the floor! That's one way to get their room clean I guess.

You Are Gonna Think I'm Crazy

2008-07-02T02:52:00.000-07:00

I'm just warnin' ya now! If you are not a follower of Christ, you are going to write me off as a loon in a few minutes. If you are a Christ follower you may still think I am a little off my rocker. I read a couple of blogs lately that I thought were wonderful! Not only full of truth, but awesome in imagery. A dear friend of mine has been going through a lot lately with some painful health problems. I gave her a link to these blogs because I thought they might speak to her in a similar way. Little did I know that it would turn around into her ministering to me in a huge way with her incredible faith while she is in 'deep water' (more on this below).

The first one I read was by Cindy Beall called I Think I’ve Figured Out Grace. In that post, she quotes a book of Max Lucado called Grip of Grace. "If God did nothing more than save us from hell, could anyone complain?" Wow, that just smacked me right in the face. It's very true, if we get nothing from the Lord but a free trip to Heaven, isn't that worth celebrating? When talking to my friend about her situation and His Grace, I brought up the song "Your Grace Is Enough." It means more to me now, just reading what I already knew, put to me in a different way. We are but a blip on a screen here on earth, but His grace for our eternity, now that is huge!

The second is called The Deep Water by Kim Heinecke . It's hard to figure out where to start with how this post effected me. I read it, it was beautiful. I really enjoyed it, I shared it. And that was it right? Yeah, no. If you've spent much time with me or read some of my previous post like Frequent Oblivion, then you know I am much of the time unaware of so many things. I don't read situations well, I don't see things coming and I don't anticipate what others see as the obvious. I don't think I'm dense, I just more time in the here and now than trying to figure out the symbolism behind things. I tend to believe that things are the way they seem and that what people say is what they mean. Too bad that's not always true. This is why God has to knock me clean off my chair sometimes to get my attention to something that he has put in front of me ten times in less obvious manners. It's not deliberate disobedience, just me going about my way, taking life in like at face value and not seeing somethings. Sometimes I just need giant billboards telling me what to do. I do not have the gift of discernment like my son.

A week ago last Friday night I got ready to meet my sister at WalMart for a midnight shopping trip. I hop in my van and pull down the driveway. The radio is on KLOVE and I can't remember what song was ending. I thought to myself how much I had been thinking about Your Grace Is Enough and how cool it would be if it were to be the next song. Guess what? No, but really, out of all the songs that KLOVE plays, there is only one that I needed to hear. Only one that I wanted to hear. Only one that He wanted to play for me. Your radio on the same station may have been playing a totally different tune. I don't believe in coincidence, but providence. That may sound silly to some, but for me, it's just how it is.

As I pull out of the driveway and as Your Grace is Enough fills up my van, I am moved to tears. I can't say that I am going through horrible trials, I'm not homeless. I'm not hungry. I'm not alone. I'm not poor. I'm not sick. My kids are healthy. My husband is wonderful. My home is filled with 'stuff.' I have a big yard. I have a car. We are 'fat' rich. My husband has a car. We have electricity and water and money to pay our bills. Sometimes we are placed in situations where it's very easy believe that His grace is all we need. Other times, when things are going wonderfully, it's easy to forget about how big the gift of His grace really is. Maybe you're not guilty of taking His greatest gift for granted, by I know I have been. Have you?

The Lord spoke to my spirit as I drove down the road. Less than a 1/2 mile from home, I was to pull over. I pulled over into a little drive that I never knew excited. Mind you, it was midnight, so pitch black out where I live. In front of me was a small field, full of foliage. There was a clearing and in the middle stood a tree. I heard the Lord tell me to get out of the car and I sat there and argued with Him for the second half of the song. "But if I get out, I won't be able to hear the song." And I added, "Why do I need to get out of the car?" and He replied (not audibly) "Because I said so." Okay, point taken, getting out of the car... I got out of the car and again felt the Lord speak to my spirit to enter the clearing and walk around the tree. I responded with "WHAT?"

In my head, I instantly played 20 different scenarios of what could happen to me should I go for a stroll around this tree, in the middle of a dark field, in the middle of the country, in the middle of the night. Looking out at the tree I start to hype myself up. I can do this. The clearing looks fairly clear of large limbs, critters, or dead bodies. The grass appears to be about calf high. I can do this.

I walk off of the pavement and into the field. Thankfully, the lights of my van were shinning outward, giving me some light to see by. About four or five steps forward and the grass is up to my thighs and then almost to my waist. My heart is pounding, as what I saw was not what not what this was. Had I known from the beginning that the grass was so deep, I would likely not have entered the field. For a brief moment, I glanced to my right. The picture was a beautiful image of the trees with light shinning up through them from behind me. Looking back at my destination, I realized that I was at the furthest point from my van and I felt panic creeping up on me.

It then occurred to me that if I was at the half way point then, I was half way back to the van. Now the light it shinning on me and I have to look down at the grass and weeds in my path so not to be blinded by the light. I remember saying, out loud, "This crazy, why am I doing this?" and then I started to laugh and said "Because you told me to. Because you told me to. Because you told me to." My dad once got in trouble in school and had to right a several hundred word paper on why he had to right the paper. He filled up several sheets with "Because you told me to. Because you told me to. Because you told me to." I guess I am my father's daughter!

Now I am back at the van, brushing off some of the leaves and twigs that came with me. After I am sure that there are no ticks crawling up my pant legs, I get back in the van. I back out and again, head towards WalMart. I start to think about the significance of my trip around the tree. As I mentioned before, I am not always good at reading between the lines. I think about my best friend Dawn. She's very intuitive and insightful and she's knows her way all over the OKC metro area! I always like to take her with me when I'm heading into unfamiliar territory. I don't need a Tom Tom, I have something better, my Dawn Dawn. As I am thinking about the person who helps me with directions, I realize I am missing my turn. I quickly switch lanes and take my turn. Rolling my eyes at myself, I realize that I didn't miss my turn, I took an earlier one...one that will take me to WalMart just the same, but not the way I had planned. I did get to WalMart and to shop with my sister. We made a silly balloon "Mermaid Queen" and had a good time visiting. I didn't share this story with her then, as I am sure she would have raised an eyebrow at me.

I know that there is 'more than meets the eye' in this story. I want to hear your insightfullness. I want to hear your 'between the lines' comments. What in this story reminds you of a scripture or story in the bible? Have you had similar experiences? Has God had you do things that seemed silly or something you didn't understand? Please share. Comment here, or if it's long, blog about it and comment here to leave me your link.

Sweet Words

2008-06-30T11:13:00.001-07:00

My Dan Dan is an amazingly sweet little boy. He loves to lay in my lap and love on me and let me hug him. He even lets me hold him close and snuggle him like a baby. This is great because my 'baby' is in the "I can walk now, so don't even think about holding me like a baby" stage.

This morning Danny wanted a shirt on so we venture into my closet to grab him an outfit. We are perched on my bed together and I get him all dressed. He tackles me and I wrestle him into my lap where he lays down. We snuggle and talk for a few minutes. Then he sweetly puts his hand on his heart and moves him head in this way that suggests what is about to say is very important and sincere. He smiles at me and says "Mom" -dramatic pause- "This my shirt."

Uh Huh.

Here we go with Vertigo!

2008-06-24T22:44:00.000-07:00

Boy did I wake up dizzy yesterday! It's a shame that the world doesn't just stop when mommies are down. Knowing that, I gathered my dizzy self up, and prepared to take on the day! With the room spinning in all directions, I managed to dress not only myself but also my youngest two children. Driving was not so bad, walking was another story all together. I had to run into the store to buy some cat litter, not optional, cat litter is something you NEVER want to run low on!

As I walk through the store I realize that I looked like I had a 6 pk for lunch when I should have had a V-8. I almost fell twice and talking on the phone added a whole new dimension of dizziness to the game. When you are pushing a little one in a cart, you need your hands to push and keep little guy happy, so what do you do if you don't have your blue tooth? You put the phone up to your ear and tilt your head sideways to hold the phone with your shoulder. Or, if you feel like you just got off a Gravitron ride at the fair, you don't. Because when you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side, the room starts to rocket around in circles while you look for something without wheels to hold on to. Then people start to look at you like you are drunk and you wonder if they are going to follow you out to your car and jot down your tag number.

After my trip into the store, I cancelled all scheduled errands and headed home. Thankfully my oldest three boys were with my sis in law. I knew that my head needed to visit my pillow in order for my world to be righted, so to speak. Getting home, I stumble into the house urging Aven to follow me. He meanders his way to the door, still making an ugly face at me for not carrying him from the car to the house. Oh, forgive me, sweet, selfish little one, for not wanting to smack your beautiful head on the door jam as I fall into the house while it spins around.

I put Aven to bed for his nap, and headed to my room for one of my own. Getting on the bed and rearranging the pillows proved to be much more difficult than expected. As I laid on my bed, the room picked up speed. Suddenly I remembered a trick that a life long friend of mine let me in on. She once told me this for when you come home completely smashed and try to hit the sack. She said when you start to feel that "Stop the room, I wanna get off!" feeling, that there is away to keep the room from spinning....put one leg off the bed, touching the floor. Not being a drinker myself, I had never used this tidbit of info, until yesterday. Already in bed and on my back, I did not dare rearrange myself and send the room into a faster spin. Instead of my leg, I reached out and grabbed a nightstand with one hand and it helped! The room slowed significantly and I was able to nap!

Today was much better, still a bit dizzy, but I can talk and walk like a sober person and my room is no longer spinning. Now, I just gotta clean up all this laundry that was tossed on the floor by centrifugal force.

Wooo Hoooo!

2008-06-15T03:21:00.000-07:00

I am so excited! My sister in law and my niece have arrived from California! I am so glad that they are here. Since last time we saw each other wasn't exactly fun, I have been looking forward to June for quite some time. My family and I picked Tracie and Miranda up at the airport last night.

While I have been looking forward to them coming, I have also been a bit nervous. Why? You ask.... well, I have NOT been looking forward to when they leave. I have been almost fearful of their arrival because I know it will put them closer to the flight back home. They haven't purchased their tickets home yet. Tracie plans to stay about a month. I plan for her to stay about 2. I mean really, what is more important that chillin' out all summer with me?! I would really prefer to have them just move here permanently but they live with Tracie's grandpa, who is certain he can just not make it without her!

For Father's Day we are taking them to Enid so that Miranda can visit the grave sites of her dad and Papa. Then we will go to a big family picnic and visit with lots of relatives we don't see very often. It will be nice to see everyone for a holiday instead of a funeral. I hope that everyone has a wonderful Father's Day!

Prime Rhyme Time

2008-06-11T21:40:00.000-07:00

My husband is again away
For what seems like all day
It's been all work and no play
But what can I really say

He pays all the bills
So we could get new wheels
I get the deals
And make all the meals

While he's away, we miss him
I can't wait to kiss him ; )
While giving the yard a trim
I got whacked with a limb

I also got a poison rash
It happened in a windy flash
Mowing and avoiding trash
And trees to avoid a crash

Little Stephen was on the back
Helping me stay on track
It was getting dark, time to hit the sack
Mowing job looked like it was done by a hack

While he was hanging on the rear
He looked out and spotted a deer
It lingered by us very near
With the noisy mower, it had no fear

Maybe it was deaf or something
Or perhaps afraid of nearly nothing
But a joy to mowing it did bring
More beautiful than this linguistic string

The other day I saw a snake
That will make my best friend shake
But probably not scare her son Jake
Oh, it was out in a field for goodness sake!

We do, after all, live out by the lake
And quite a walk you'd have to take
To kill it with a shovel, not a rake
And snake skin nothing you could make

For a snake it was rather small
And it certainly wasn't tall
Towards the fence it did crawl
I think it wore diamonds, as I recall...

So now Dawn is probably sweating bullets
And it may even seem she's developed Tourette's
She thought we should get a bunch of pullets
Will she again darken my doorstep with her silhouette?

That last one was rather hard
Talking about our crazy barnyard
Easier to rhyme with a word like card
And throw in a gross word like 'lard'

Lard is gross, you have to admit
Make me eat it and I'll throw a fit
I'd much rather eat a banana split
Then I will happily eat every bit

After all, I do like sweets
I'm all about the chocolate treats!
My husband, he prefers BBQ meats
But all in all, we like GOOD EATS!

We didn't get this size by eating light
Some foods are just a pure delight
Others foods are just 'alright'
Maybe we should start a diet tonight...(yeah right!)

I think it's time to go to bed
If I can sleep when I lay down my head
And snuggle up under my comfy bed spread
I may lie awake waiting for that man I wed.

Though it may sound like some old cliche
I don't sleep well when he's away
That is much to my dismay
So I will spend some time with God and pray

No One Knows Like His Nose Knows!

2008-06-04T01:38:00.000-07:00

Right on the nose! That's where the cup landed when it slipped out of my hand with Aven underneath me eagerly awaiting a cup of milk. Thankfully it was empty. Even so, we had a little bloody nose to deal with. It did seem to bleed for quite a while, but not a terribly large amount.

Next come boogers. I hate boogers. I cannot stand for boogers to be peeking out of my kids noses. I attack! Aven hates it and usually flails about anytime I wipe his nose. After having a bloody nose, he had lots of little bloody boogers. I had to be very gentle about removing any boogers so that I did not restart the flow.

Several days later he and I were playing together in the kitchen. I toss him up in the air and then swing him down to the ground. I notice a dark shadow up his nose, same side that was bloody days earlier. I saw what I suspected was the last of the 'bloody boogers.' I so wanted to get it out! It wasn't really peeking out, so I left it alone not wanting to start the whole process over again.

Fast forward two days to Memorial Day. It was almost an instant replay of the playtime days earlier. I tossed him up over my head and then gave him a ride down to the floor and laid him on the rug. He was laughing and when he tilted his head back while I tickled him, I saw it! It was not a bloody booger, it was something blue! "STEPHEN!" I yelled to my husband. "I need you!" Click on the picture and when you see it full size you can see the little blue thing!

I grabbed the tweezers and we held him down to investigate. It appeared that he had shoved a broken off tip of a crayon up his right nostril. I tried to retrieve it without victory. I called my best friend and asked if she could keep the other three kiddo's while we visited the emergency room. When I told my husband we could take them to her house he said "Uh, I don't want to go to the emergency room. I'll stay here with the boys!" My sweet husband is a big hypochondriac. Don't worry, he knows it. He admits it. I called my best friend, Dawn, back, explained and asked if she would go. Thankfully, she accepted. We don't get to spend a lot of time together, so we take what we can get!

Being Memorial Day, the waiting room at the ER was full of folks who had injured themselves in a variety of ways. There was also lots of sick folks around. It's a good thing my husband didn't go with me. If he had, he would certainly have left there with a broken ankle, heart condition, badly cut hand, and the stomach flu. He may have also contracted all sorts of lovely diseases from the germy waiting room. The wait was long. Very long. Like the hour that we sat there, one, possibly two people where taken back. My sweet friend got on the horn and found a minor emergency center that was open. This was during the day and most of them don't open until evening.

Dawn wheeled Aven in his stroller out to the car why I waited to check out with the triage nurse. She told me that the first thing they would have me try when they took us back, would be for me to try and dislodge it. She said that when I get out to the car I should hold the empty nostril shut and blow forcefully into his mouth. Wha?!!! I ask if I could hurt him doing that and she assured me that all would be fine. As I walked through the parking lot toward my car, I hollered at Dawn not to buckle Aven in yet.

I opened the back door of the Yukon and stood the little guy up back there. Dawn stood behind me and held his arms down while I held one nostril shut and blew into his mouth. It did a great job of making him very angry and not so great a job at dislodging anything but a few boogers. I decided to try again, this time with a little more umph. I gave it another go and this time I dislodged not the little blue thing, but lots of snot and boogers! I had some of the most disgusting tasting stuff in my mouth! I was trying not to gag! Since this attempt failed, we headed to the minor emergency center.

I told Dawn on the way that I though maybe someone who didn't love him as much as I did would be able to get it out with tweezers. My husband called for an update and said that he thought someone that wouldn't be as gentle could probably get it out! Great minds think alike!

We only had to wait about half an hour before we were taken back to see the doc. He came in and said "What do we have here? Something up the nose huh?" I laid him down on the table and the ole' doc had that sucker out in less than 10 seconds. He held up the blue thingy and said "Well, it's not a crayon. Whatever it is, it doesn't belong up there" and with that he tossed it in the trash can! Aaaaahhhh, I needed that! As soon as the doc finished talking, he and the nurse walked out. Before I could say anything, Dawn has digging in the trash to find the blue thingy. Luckily it landed on top, in one of those papers that they tear off the bed after each patient. Unable to identify it, I slathered it with the antimicrobial wash from the wall dispenser and promptly shoved it my purse.

Aven fell asleep on the way home. I probably would have too! When we got home and I pulled out my little napkin wrapped blue thingy to ask the family for their help figuring out what it was. I didn't have it out for 3 seconds before Randon looked over and said "Oh, that's a part from my boat." A couple of weeks ago, I let Randon paint and assemble one of those little woodworking kits from the craft store. Evidently the little smoke stack will slide right up your nose and the boat looks just as good without it's smoke stack.

What I learned from this:
1. That little warning on boxes that read "Not For Children Under Three" isn't just for choking hazards.
2. The cup that caused the bloody nose likely caused it because there was a foreign object up there already. Even good moms fail to notice what would seem like the obvious!
3. You can have something up your nose for almost a week without anyone noticing and with minimal whining.
4. People do stupid things on Memorial Day, avoid hospitals.
5. Painted wood will lose some of it's paint if smothered in snot for a time.
6. Babies do not like tweezers anywhere near their faces.
7. It takes a lot of force to blow snot and boogers out of someones face and onto your own.
8. Snot, boogers, tears and saliva taste really nasty together, and probably separately as well.
9. When you are 19 months old, Live and Learn does not really apply. Aven still attempts to shove something up his nose almost daily.
10. You can shove about 5 pieces of macaroni and cheese up your nose in the time it takes your mom to hand your brothers their dinner plates.

Castle On A Cloud

2008-06-02T01:15:00.000-07:00

Try to imagine falling asleep as visiting your very own Castle on a Cloud. You can see it in the distance and you are drifting nearer and nearer. My castle is gray. The comfiest of colors! A gray t-shirt and pair of sweats just makes me want to curl up on the couch with my kids and some books. Then there would have to be some pink somewhere, so my castle has bright pink flags atop each tower. Lets make it have pink curtains flowing out of any open windows too. My two favorite colors complimenting each other perfectly in my very own sanctuary of rejuvenation!

Sometimes my castle sees to float in the wrong direction, or I'm floating in the wrong direction. Either way, I want to get to my castle and I can't seem to get there! Sometimes I can get to it, but I can't get in! My castle has become this seemingly impenetrable fortress. As I struggle to infiltrate, the army of wakefulness taunts me. Thoughts, worries, to do lists, memories, questions and images are all part of this army. It's a powerful army and sometimes for hours it will push me back, and keep me away from my castle.

For a time, I was only allowed a visit to my castle every other night. After a while, I stopped trying to gain access on my 'No Sleep Nights.' I had become convinced that my castle was to far away. Then, on my 'Sleep Nights,' I would clamor to my castle! The army is unable to fight 36 hours of exhaustion catapulting it's way over the castle walls, landing deep inside.

After an evening of fellowship and prayer with some girlfriends, I regained my Draw Bridge Opener and was welcomed into my beautiful gray and pink castle every night. The army was held at bay and my sleep was restored.

Then I faltered. I stopped praying for it, because I was already getting it. Why keep asking for sleep when I already had it. Cuz it didn't occur to me to think that I was given access to my castle because I was asking for it! I know He has purpose in my castle free nights. Maybe it's so I will spend more time with Him, undistracted. Perhaps it's to remind me that all things are possible if I rely on Him and sometimes we need help just climbing up to a Castle on a Cloud.

Fire One!

2008-05-25T10:42:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-05-22T23:24:00.000-07:00

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!"

2008-05-20T23:38:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-05-19T23:19:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-18T19:32:00.001-07:00

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!!!

2008-05-16T20:09:00.000-07:00

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!"

2008-05-09T21:06:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-05T00:07:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-04T16:26:00.000-07:00

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?

2008-05-01T00:04:00.000-07:00

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.

The Best Part!!!!!!!!!!

2008-04-30T08:40:00.000-07:00

I can't believe that I left this out! I wasn't that I really left it out, I just changed gears before getting to this. During my dad's service I didn't sit up front with my family. I used the excuse that Stephen needed my help in the back with the computer and sound stuff. Truly, I didn't want to sit up there on the front row on display for everyone. My mom was taken care of, my brother was at her side and her husband on the other. I also had the worlds best best friend and her husband come back and stay with us in the bar area (the building was previously a night club). I needed the comfort of their presence and someone else needed some seats. The music was wonderful and I worshipped! With my arms lifted high and my spirit comforted I prayed. "If just one person comes to you through this, it's all worth it." I prayed that so many times during that first week. Then my brother died. One of the first thoughts I had after 'coming to' was "That's not what I meant! That's not what I meant!" But His ways are higher than my ways. My brother's memorial service was long and beautiful. I didn't spend this service the same. I did 'hide' in the bar area with my husband and best friend. But instead of spending it with my arms outstretched, I spent it comforting my little warrior Randon. We had a special bond with his Uncle Dan and his Papa and he had been having a hard time with all this loss. I did continue the prayer for him to reach just one person. One person, and it would all be worth it!We had the services at the same church were we had my father's. Anew Church in Enid is a network church of LifeChurch.tv ( http://www.anewchurchenid.com/). We opened that church last summer. My brother laid the carpet. Anyway, during his service, the pastor of the church, Marshal Billingslea played a song, announced the eulogy and then did a short mini-sermon after the eulogy and video were over. He gave an alter call and 12, yes twelve, count them, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 people came to Christ! I was with my son at this time and didn't find this out for a couple of hours. I was so excited I could burst. My sister and her husband were also thrilled! Stephen and Jimmy talked about how some people wouldn't have liked the long message at the end but how it was all worth if if just one came to know Him, but there were 12! This wondrous news brought me tears of joy! How the death of someone I love so much could bring others into eternity with Him is amazing. I'm not saying the sting of death is gone, but it sure makes it easier to take it.

Thank you Jesus, It was all worth it.

Snood

2008-04-29T19:07:00.000-07:00

Have you ever played Snood? It is such a fun little shareware game! My husband told me about it, and then had to download it for me. It is a mindless clicking game that will steal away several minutes of your computer time, but it's fun! Good thing about the shareware version - There are only a few levels for each difficulty setting. Otherwise, who knows when I would walk away from the pc! http://www.womgames.com/index.php Don't say I didn't warn you!

I went to the moon today...

2008-04-28T20:38:00.000-07:00

What an adventure we had today! Danny disappeared for a moment, and I found him perched on the swing in the front yard. He requested that I join him, so I did. Suddenly, we were off to outer space! Swinging, I mean flying high above the earth until we landed on the moon. DanDan gave me a space helmet and space suit and we left the safety of our ship to explore the moon. Almost instantly we found a moon rover! It was bright red, with 4 wheels and 4X4 on the side. Sadly, there was room for only one. Danny jumped into the driver seat and we were off! The pic to the left is of Aven in the moon rover. We found a black and white Moon Cat (below and right) and we chased it in our mommy powered moon rover all over the moon! We also ran into a Moon Randon and it chased us! It was discovered none to soon that the Moon Randon was a friendly creature and did not wish to harm or capture us. About that time the mommy powered moon rover ran out of gas, and we all three headed back to our swing, I mean ship. The Moon Randon came back with us on our rocket ship. After a safe landing back on earth we took off the cumbersome spacesuits and relaxed. We must now head to bed, as we are jet lagged!

Frequent Oblivion

2008-04-26T18:37:00.001-07:00

I am frequently oblivious to the work God is going in my life. My phone number for example. The number we have had for the past 2 + years has been a huge part of our life. It once belonged to Mercy Ministries, an outreach that is run by the church we attend. At one time, we would receive up to 40 phone calls a day asking for various forms of assistance. Some we could help, some we could not. This phone number, which was not coincidence, but providence, opened up new areas of ministry for us and took us places we never dreamed we would go. Nor would we have chosen to go.

For many months now, my sweet and wonderful husband has wanted to change our number. Not because of the continued calls, but to go to a new type of service that offered significant savings. This new service (Skype) does not yet have the capability to allow you to take your number with you when you leave your current provider. I was resistant. What about the calls? What about the people!? My husband told me it was the Lord that brought us the people, and even without the phone number, he could continue to do so.

It is just amazing how completely oblivious I can be sometimes. Right about the time of our family losses (see below), the calls just dropped off. There were almost none. Not even one per day. During this season, God removed what took up a lot of our time and emotional energy. I didn't even notice it at first. Granted, I was dealing with other things and my mind was not wondering why the phone wasn't ringing. It wasn't until after the 'dust had settled' so to speak, that I realized that we were no longer receiving calls. It wasn't until a few days ago that I realized what the Lord had done for us. It was a 'duh' moment. I sometimes take for granted the things that He orchestrates. I sometimes fail to give Him the glory for the things that happen to me. It is simply looked at as everyday life rather than the awesomeness that it really is. He is never absent but sometimes it is required of me to 'be still and know that He is God" and that he is right there, laying out everything before me, just as it should be. Thank you, Sweet Jesus, for all of your awesomeness in my life.

A Knights Tale

2008-04-26T17:48:00.000-07:00

I found myself in a battle of epic proportions. Two mighty warriors, boasting three swords between them, came after me. I did my best to fend them off. The smaller one attacked first. I knocked one of his weapons free from his grasp effortlessly. He clung tight to the other, for he would not be defeated so easily. He refused to go down with out a fight. And then I was wounded in the back by the second assailant. While my weapon wielding shoulder ached in pain, I flung around to face him. Ah ha! The sword of the smaller one lay just ahead of me. I now had two swords, surely I would come forth a winner. With a warrior behind me and another in front, I began to fight. I swung my swords against one, then turned to face in other. This went on for what seemed like hours, though I know it was only moments. The second one retreated! Perhaps victory is mine! I shall give chase and conquer him in his village! As I lung ever so gracefully forward he straightens. "Mom, Pirates don't skip!" he says. Oh. I thought we were knights.

Tagged Game

2008-04-22T01:44:00.000-07:00

Here are the rules:
1. The rules of the game get posted at the beginning.
2. Each player answers the questions about themselves.
3. At the end of the post, the player tags 5 people and posts their name, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they've been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

What was I doing 10 years ago: Ten years ago I had been married one whole day, so you can guess what I was doing! Oh, it was a Tuesday so I went to work! You and your dirty mind!

Five Snacks I enjoy: In a perfect, non weight-gaining world:
1. Starbucks-grande-mocha-frappicino with lots of whip cream.
2. Starbucks Cranberry Orange Muffin (must be accompanied by number 1, while number 1 is okay on it's own or with a treat!
3. I Hate Chocolate (a delicious brownie treat I make)
4. M&M's and a glass of water
5. McDonalds sausage, egg and cheese biscuit with a md Dr. Pepper.

In the real world:
1. My husband is awesome and amazing.
2. I have the best, best friend ever.
3. I'm an internet junkie who is techo-spoiled along with techo-challenged.
4. I love movies, some shoot-em-up games and balloons.
5. I don’t like getting up early.

Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
1. Secretly meet other people’s financial needs.
2. Be super thrilled that my husband could be home with us everyday...okay 6 days a week!
3. Travel in a huge travel trailor around the country and reach people for Jesus.
4. Open more network churches
5. Invest for our future generations to have wealth too.
Oh, and get a maid for sure, that one doesn't even count 'cuz it's a given!

Five jobs that I have had:
1. Mom
2. Wife
3. Cook
4. Teacher
5. Maid
Oh wait, those are five jobs that I currently have...here are five I had:
1. Childcare provider
2. Vacation Sales Agent for Delta Vacations, AAA Vacations and Marriott Vacations
3. Shift manager for Popcorn Poppers Express
4. Movie theater (where I met my husband) concession, door and film.
5. Snow Cone Stand (hey I was like 14!)

Three of my habits:
1. Clicking "update" as I walk by the computer to check email.
2. Collecting crap. I'm always bringing more junk home that we don't need.
3. Clamping my jaw. Even after my surgeries, it's sometimes really painful.

Five place I have lived:1
. Enid, Oklahoma (18 years)
2. Bartlesville, Oklahoma (1 year)
3. Ft. Lauderdale, Florida (1 year)
4. Enid, Oklahoma ( 1 year)
5. Edmond, Oklahoma (8 years)

What do you want others to get from your blog: A giggle or two. Selfishly, I think it's mostly for me. I love to write and it's kinda nice having a place to put it rather than just writing for no reason. I guess it would be nice to know if anyone is reading it or laughing at it. Of course right now, it's not been too funny.

Who are you going to tag:
I don't know...

Grounded?

2008-04-21T23:31:00.000-07:00

My crazy mother is at it again. Last week she called me at about 10:30 at night. My husband answered. He walked in with the phone and said "She's right here." With a questioning look he handed me the phone and mouthed "She sounds mad!" He waited for my reaction. This is how that conversation went...
"Bobbi Lynn?! Where are you?!" Mom says very sternly.
"I'm at home." I reply.
"NO YOUR NOT!! I"M HERE AND YOU ARE NOT HERE !" she hollars at me. "You were suppose to be home at 9:30!"
"Okay" was all I could whisper.
"When are you going to be here?"
"I'll be home in a little bit."
"You'd better be!"
"Okay."
"You're grounded!"
"Okay."
"I'm going to bed, you wake me up when you get here so I know you're home."
"Okay."
"I mean it Bobbi Lynn! You better get your ass home!"
"Okay, I'll be there soon."
"Bye."
"Bye."
I looked at my husband and said "Well, I'm grounded." and he laughed. I told him the half of the conversation that he didn't hear. Then he expressed his concern. It's one thing to go through all this with Dad and Danny with their recent passing but we just leaped back about 13 years, give or take a couple. I've been married for ten years yesterday! So now that we've again established the instability of my mother's fragile psyche, let me tell you about another of our interesting conversations....
Late evening, night before last, I'm snuggled up on the couch with my husband for some grown up tv time, a commodity at our house. My cell phone rings and it's my mom. I know she's probably asleepawake. I answer and she says "Bobbi, what exit is your street? I think I'm almost to your house."
"What?!" I shriek as I bound off the couch, "Where are you?!" I motion to my husband to call in the calvary. He gets on the horn to reach my sisters so we can plan our next move. She has driven to the store while awakeasleep before. The though of my mother, in la-la land, tooling about the countryside in her pick up is terrifying! She tells me she is not sure where she is but she thinks she's almost here. "Are you on I35?" I ask. "I don't know." is all that she can tell me. A few times she tried to get off the phone with me and I start to panic. "NO MOM!!! DON"T HANG UP!" I yell at her. "Put your shoes on!" I mouth to Stephen. He throws up his arms and says "Where am I gonna go?" "I don't know!" I mouth back.

I asked her to tell me what was around her, trees, houses, lights, what?! She never really gives us an answer that is of much help but there was something about no houses around. My sister is trying to locate her husband and I'm looking up neighbors phone numbers on the computer. I wondering if she ever made it out of Enid. "Mom, look for a sign for me. Tell me what the next sign says. I might be just a number and that's okay, I just need you to read me the next sign you see." She agrees but them says she doesn't see any signs. I'm getting a little freaked. All these things running through my head like her driving until she runs out of gas, thumbing a ride, ending up in a ditch.... okay "Mom, I need to know where you are!" My voice must have sounded stressed because she started getting nervous too. "I don't know! I think I'm lost! I'm scared Bobbi!" she whimpers. I realize that I have to maintain my composure so that she doesn't get to stressed.

Again I try to get her to tell me about what is around her or read me a sign. She asks me to hold on while she turns a corner. "READ THE STREET SIGN!!" I scream before she puts the phone down. So we have concluded that she's not on an interstate and not in a neighborhood. Great, we've got her pinpointed now. She says that she doesn't see a street sign and an image creeps into my head of Mom, on some backwoods dirt road without signs, low on gas and possible not dressed. She tells me that the truck stalled and put the phone down for a few seconds. She tells me she got it back started and I hear it, but it's louder this time. So now, my possible undressed, completely nutty mother is on some dirt road without signs, low on gas and is out of her car! I ask her to get back in the truck and she does. It's still loud so I ask her to roll up the window and she does. It still seems louder than it did before but whatever. I've got to find her!

I try again to coax any information out of her that might be useful. Ronda is on her way to Mom's house to find her husband so they go 'hunting.' This conversation has gone on for over 10 minutes and my heart was pounding the entire time. "Mom." I say very calmly, "I have to know where you are. Tell me about the road you are on. Does it have two lanes, does it have four?" She switches gears without any warning and throws me for a loop "What are you talking about roads and lanes for? I'm mowing the backyard." WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now I have no idea what is going on! "MOM! Turn off the mower and go inside." My husband flips around and looks at me with his forehead wrinkled up. "I can't! I have to get this mowed of Cliff is going to be mad!" she whimpers again. "You don't have to mow it now Mom, we'll mow it tomorrow." Stephen, again on the phone with the calvary relays the info and says "They mowed the yard today!" "Well, she's mowing it again!" I tell him.

"MOM!! TURN OFF THE MOWER!" I say in a voice that you should never use to talk to your parents with. "Okay" she complies. "GO IN THE HOUSE!" As she walks to what I hope is her house and not some farmers on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, I hear the phone ringing. Stephen is calling it from his cell! What a smart guy! I confirm that she in fact in her house and she closes his phone. He's still on the house phone with my sister who asks if we should still have Ronda go over there. I don't know! I ask mom to please lie down and she does. She's not going to go to bed, just take a nap. Fine with me! I ask her to stay lied down until Ronda gets there is she says "Please No! Don't let Ronda come over here! I don't want to talk to Ronda!" Okay, so she's upset with Ronda about something. "Alright, well you lay down or I'm gonna have Ronda come over there!" I get off the phone with her, leaving her on the couch of her 'nap.'

A few minutes later Ronda calls with the update. She arrived at mother's house where she finds our mother in the back of the pickup, wearing only a t-shirt and undies. When she sees Ronda, she starts to yell and cuss and tells her to get the F out of there and all kinds of other lovely things. I don't know at what point Mom 'came to' but when I was on the phone with Ronda, Mom was sitting across from her with no recollection of what just happened. I can hear her in the background and I tell Ronda "She's not awake!" "Bobbi," Ronda says in her calm authoritative voice "I'm sitting right her talking to her and she is awake." "I'm awake!" Mom says in the background. Her voice still sounds different, like it does when she's asleepawake. I get off the phone and Ronda comes home. Mom calls me back a bit later. She kind of remembers Ronda being there, but not why and nothing before that. I tell her what happened and she apologizes up and down. Ahh, it's not her fault she's nuts. She tells me about her stressful evening and it doesn't suprise me. She has her worse episodes after stressing about something. Her and Cliff had a fight about his son coming to stay with them for a while. I guess it was pretty ugly and he stormed off to sleep in the semi that was parked down the road. We talked for another 1/2 hour and then both decided it was time for bed. For real this time.

We didn't catch each other to talk to her yesterday but we talk again today. She starts to tell me about the fight her and Cliff had... I remind her that we talked that night and she has no memory of it. She doesn't remember Ronda. She doesn't remember being in the bed of the pickup half naked. She doesn't remember our phone conversation. She certainly doesn't remember mowing the backyard in the middle of the night. I bet the neighbors do.

I'm trying....

2008-04-03T22:04:00.000-07:00

So many days have went by without me blogging a single word. Life has been overwhelming and I haven't found the time. I don't know whether to start where I left off or start where I am now, so I may skip around! I'm trying... Also, I know that this subject isn't the most fun to rehash, but it's kinda necessary for me. Like therapy, only cheaper. I don't even know if anyone reads this stuff, but just in case there was my disclaimer!

My sister in law, Tracie and my niece Miranda flew in to OKC and my sister picked them up. It was so wonderful to see them again, even though the circumstances where awful. They stayed with us and while here, Miranda reminded her mom that my house was they last place they were all together as a family. They had visited OK during early summer. It was still very surreal for them both, since they didn't see him everyday, but very much so for Miranda. Tracie was insistent on viewing the body even though my mom and Landon (their son) were against it. My husband and I supported Tracie in her decision, as she was his wife. I just realized that names might be really confusing right about now. My dad's name - Landon, my brother - Danny, Danny's son - Landon, my son - Danny. Not to mention the Ronda, Renda, Randa, Landon, Miranda, Bryanna, Randon thing we got going! Say that three times fast!

The funeral home set up a private viewing so only people that were told about it would know. Well, private or not, my brother had about a million friends and many of them showed up at the funeral home to see him. Tracie held Miranda and told her "This is going to be hard" but she knew that it wasn't even real for her yet and this was necessary. The two of them went in first and I could hear Miranda sobbing from the hallway. It was heart wrenching. I had just lost my dad, but she is just a child (10), now having to grow up without her dad. Her dad that was her most awesome everything before the drugs made him an idiot and still most of the time after.

My wonderful husband stayed home with me for two weeks plus a couple days during all of this. He did a wonderful video for my father and then again for my brother. I wrote the eulogy for both my dad and brother and I really wanted to read them but I didn't have the guts to do it. I'm not a public speaker, and I figured I would break down if reading it in person. We had the pastor read Dad's. I really felt pushed to do Danny's, but I was still very nervous so, we prerecorded it!

Most people have regrets when they lose someone and this time it's no different. Mom wishes she'd have done something. Ronda wishes the time they spent together the day before would have been different. Jimmy wishes the councilor would have called back earlier. You see, Danny asked for help the day before he died. He wanted to go to rehab. My brother in law spent hours trying to locate and set up a space for him. I don't really have many 'I wish' things. I wish I would have got to visit my dad before he died. I hadn't been able to make the trip with four kids to see him since he'd moved from the hospital in December. Of course, I wish they hadn't died.

My brother and I were very close for most of my life. When he came down from Colorado to visit he would go to Enid. I almost always dropped whatever I was up to and hauled myself and kids to Enid to see him. Tracie told me a few years ago that it really meant alot to him that I always came to see him when he came to Oklahoma. That means alot, I didn't know it was as important to him to see us and it was for us to see him. Even with his flaws, he was my big brother and he rocked! The only two 'vacations' we have ever taken were to Colorado to stay with Danny and Tracie. I didn't spend very much time with Danny after he came back to Enid the last time. I don't regret that. He was not the same Danny, he was the drugs. Anyone having experience with drug addicts can tell you how it totally changes a person. I prefer to cherish the times I spent with Danny, rather than the encounters with the drugs.

I don't know how long this process is 'supose' to take, but I still get upset almost every day. The first two weeks, I barely had time to cry. The next several weeks, I refused to cry. During an evening with friends I told them that I wasn't dealing with things. I said "I wouldn't say I'm in denial, I mean, I know their dead. I'm just not dealing with it." A sweet friend looked me in the eye and said "That's denial Bobbi." Oh. Two nights in a row, I have lay awake in bed, tears streaming even though I am so tired I could sleep for a week. So while I have stopped refusing to cry, it's far from over.

My Poor Mother...

2008-03-14T05:22:00.000-07:00

I wrote this earlier this month and never got a chance to come back and finish and then post it...

My mom has a bad habit of sleepwalking. It happens more when she is stressed about something and during this past year, it has revolved around my brother quite a bit. His drug use has stressed her to the max and she has worried an incredible amount. Whenever she sleepwalks, she calls me. No, really! I can't say that she does it every time, but I would say she certainly does it most of the time. Her husband is a truck driver so he is gone frequently and then worries himself sick about what his crazy wife might be doing at 3 a.m. Most of the time she is out in the backyard feeding the dogs, just got done feeding the dogs or is on her way to go feed the stupid overfed dogs!

I have figured out several tricks to get her inside and back in bed. My mother is a feisty red head who takes no bull from anyone and lets her opinion be known in no uncertain terms. During her 'episodes' she is quite the opposite. She is very compliant, totally non combative but still gets her feelings hurt easily. A little over a month ago, just before our 'funeral month' began, we had a very interesting night with her. I talked to her not once, but three times over the course of two hours. Two hours that were very eventful. I get the call, and if it's after 9, I know she's what I call asleepawake. Each time I talk to her I get her back in bed and hope for the best. I don't find out the extent of the evening until morning. We were actually in Enid that day so I was able to get the story in person. I ask "Mom, did you know you called me last night?" "I did?!" she says and then smiles... Evidently she called my step brother looking for me sometime after midnight. He knew something was up by how she sounded so he called his dad who then called her back. He tried to get her to go back to bed too. Mom said that before she went to bed (the first time) that she had 4 cigarettes. She smoked one and knew that the other 3 would last her through the morning so that she wouldn't have to go get more until around lunch. Well, it didn't surprise me at all the she smoked while shes busy feeding dogs in the dark of night, why not! But then she tells me that when she woke up (for real) in the morning she had two brand new, full packs of cigarettes!!!!! She actually went to the store and wrote a check and she doesn't remember a thing! We don't know if she got dressed or decided she might as well go out in her t-shirt and undies. I said "Maybe you should go to the quick shop and see if they remember you coming in and ask about your visit." She says "Maybe I'll never go there again!"

This is certainly funny and definitely alarming for obvious reasons. After the death of both my father and brother things got worse. One evening her husband calls all of us girls because he can't get my mom back in the house. She was in the back yard trying to get the gas can because she needed to take my brother some gas. Normally she will 'mind' me and go back in the house and ultimately back to bed. This time she was not only 'not nice' she cussed at me and tossed the phone down. Cliff was having a hard time trying to physically take her back in the house. I lied all over the place saying that it was taken care of. I told her that Adrian, my brother's best friend since childhood, had got gas and was on his way to where Danny was. This seemed to be the answer. As long as someone was taking care of it, she was okay.

Last Tuesday (March 11) I talked to her for hours. We talked off and on all day long. We talked while the boys played, we talked during yard work, we talked while I drove into town. My sisters had asked me a few different time where Grandma was (meaning her remains). I told them that the last thing I knew was that Mom wasn't ready to deal with it and she was still at the funeral home. I said "That was nearly 15 years ago and surely they 'clean house' once in a while, so who knows where she is." Well, while talking with my mom all day I asked her about Grandma. She told me that she was in California with Grandpa. She said that her asked had been scattered over the top of Grandpa's grave. Okay, I found Grandma! I talked to her until my phone was dead.When I got back home after running some errands I called her back. She sounded very tired even though it was early evening. Talking to my son I say "Danny, would you hand me that?" and she says "How is he doing?" My eyebrows went up wondering if she was asleepawake. I told her he was fine, without any details as to what Danny it might be. Then she asked if we were having a good visit. I told her we were and she asked me to have him call her later. This was very alarming for several reasons. It was the first time I had ever caused her to 'wake up' when I called her. She may have already been asleepawake, but I don't think so, she would likely have already called me. I got off the phone very quickly in hopes that she would go back to sleep, real sleep. Then she could really wake up. It was alarming because, again, she was assuming that my brother was alive and well. I have not and will never try to explain the truth to her while she is asleepawake. It would be like reliving the news for her, like it was the first time all over again.

What an eventful day this was turning out to be. My sister Renda called me and is very excited about something. "Guess what!!!? "Ronda found Grandma!" I perked up, thinking it odd that we both did that on the same day. "So did I!" I could almost hear Renda's forehead wrinkle up. "You did? How did you find her?" she asked. "I've been on the phone with mom all day and I asked her about it." I filled her in on what Mom told me and then she says "Oh, Bobbi, Ronda found her at the funeral home! She called there today and they went to look for her. Then they called her back and said "Yeah, she's here, in a FedEx box. We'll leave her in the office if you wanna come by and see her." I'm thinking 'see her? she what? the FedEx box, whoopteedoo!' Renda asked "Do you think we should tell Mom?" "I'll do it." I say. "I've been talking to her all day, when she calls me back I'll tell her." So we then have to discuss what is to be done with Grandma. There is a fourth plot beside my brother that Mom almost bought. Renda thinks that would be best for Mom, because she could go to all the grave sites at one time and Grandma would be here instead of California.

Ronda was having a difficult time dealing with Grandma. Not the grief from 15 years ago, but the fact that she was in a box in a storage closet for 15 years. She went on about it being disrespectful and how sad it was. Personally, I think it was more of an emotional displacement, meaning she was more upset about Dad and Danny, but focusing on Grandma. I was so not upset about the ashes being in a box, in a closet or tossed to the wind. I just don't care what you do with my body once I'm gone. I will be so overjoyed to meet my heavenly father that what happens to my earthly body is of no concern to me. But I want my friends to wear pink at my funeral!

Ring Ring, OH CRAP! IT'S MOM!!! I look at Stephen and ask "Are you sure I should tell her know?" He lifts his eyebrows and shrugs. I'm sure he's thinking "This could be bad and I don't want to be blamed for it!" So she's really awake and barely into our conversation I tell her "I have something to tell you and it's going to upset you. It's okay, no one's hurt, but you are going to be upset." I tell her everything that happened between the phone calls from my sisters and the funeral home and my mom starts to get hysterical and say "Oh my God, this is a nightmare!" She said it at least ten times. "No, it's not Mom! A nightmare would be if they cremated her and we didn't want that or they buried her and we wanted her cremated, or they spread her over Grandpa and we wanted her here. Those things are permanent and this isn't! This is easily fixable." She tells me they were suppose to send her to California. I asked her who was suppose to take care of things there and she didn't know. I really think that her intent was for that to happen but she never followed through with it because she just 'couldn't deal with it' at the time and then later she assumed it was done. Grandma fell through the cracks. "What do we do, Bobbi?!" she starts to ask still in semi-hysterics. "What do you want to do Mom, do you want to send her to California or bury her in the fourth plot here?" "I don't know, someone just tell me what to do!" she kept saying. I told her that Renda and I agreed that we should bury her here in the fourth plot and that one of us would take care of it tomorrow. I get her settled down and we talk about happier things and get completely off the subject of death and burials and FedEx boxes. We get off the phone on good notes and I assume the day is done.....I was wrong...

A few hours later my mom calls again. This time it's late and my heart starts to pound. I know before I answer that she is asleepawake. Reluctantly, I answer the phone "Hello?" "Bobbi, it's Mom. Your Dad and Danny are broke down on the side of the road with a flat tire and they need a ride. They are somewhere on May. Is that right? May?" "Yeah, May." I interject "I can go get them." Thoughts running through my head of my mother driving not just to the quick shop, but to Oklahoma city are terrifying! "Oh could you?" she asked. "I was gonna go and get them, but it's such a long drive. I would have to go all the way there and then all the way home and it would be nearly morning when we got back." "No Mom, I'll go take care of it, don't worry." Then she adds "Can they stay the night at your house? I can meet you half way tomorrow." I continue to assure her that everything is fine, I will pick them up, they will stay at my house and she and I will meet half way to Enid tomorrow for her to pick them up. And then just before we are getting off the phone so that I can 'go get them' she adds "Have them call me when they get there so I know they are okay." Crap. I can drive to Key West or Idaho, or for that matter I can fly to London to pick up, take gas to or visit my dead dad and brother, but I cannot, in any way produce them for a phone call that I know she will wait up for.

Sure enough, a little while later she calls back to check on them. Well, you and I both know they aren't broke down, they don't need to be picked up and they ain't at my house so what do I do? I lie some more. Good 'ole Adrian to the rescue! If they are with him, then they can't be at my house to talk to Mom on the phone! I tell her that Adrian has already picked them up and that he is taking them to his house and that we would work the rest out in the morning. She was satisfied with that and told me she was going to bed and to call her tomorrow. I let out a sigh of relief knowing that she really was going to bed, for real this time.

I didn't sleep soundly. I tossed and turned and finally got up. I watched my brother's memorial video and cried for a while. Then I went to bed and feel asleep.

Strange Decisions

2008-03-04T00:37:00.001-08:00

After leaving he funeral home we visited the same florist to pick out an arrangement for the urn. I helped pick it out this time in hopes that it would help get the job done faster. The week before I had told them I didn't care anything about what flowers they picked. It just seems so pointless. "Save your money when I die. No need to send flowers, I don't care, I'm dead." That was kind of my resounding theme as far as "When I die I want ...blah, blah,". Ronda saw a pretty casket with roses on the sides and roses embroidered on the inside top. She said "Oh, this is beautiful! I want this when I die." "Ronda," I replied, "That's an old lady casket!" She smiled and said "Well when they put me in it, I wanna be an old lady!" To that my response was "Pick whatever is cheap for me. I don't care, I'm dead.
Unlike the week before, we had to also visit the cemetery. Mom and Cliff, her new husband had picked two together for her and dad. Now, to normal people that has to sound just completely bizarre. First, since my mom and dad were together most of my life, Cliff will probably always be her 'new' husband. He is awesome and loves her so much. Cliff's wife passed away from cancer several years ago. They have two plots together and he will be buried next to her. That leaves my mom out in the cold, so for old times sake, she and my dad decided to still be buried next to each other....they were divorced. Tell me that not just weird! Okay, so there aren't two plots next to Cliff and Shirley...but there are some over and down a bit. That's what mom picked for her and Dad. They were in the middle of digging when the funeral home called about Danny's death and asked them to halt burial. We saw were they had to fill in the hole! They offered us two together and one up and over, but my response to that was "What else do ya got?" Near the end of the 'garden' that Cliff will be buried in there were three plots together. Two were cremation plots and one full burial. Cremation plots are just small plots, typically on an end or curve where they want to use the land, but can't fit a casket. Did you know when someone is cremated, instead of remains, they have cremains? I thought that was a cool word, kinda creepy, but cool anyway. As we are looking at the plots I said, "Okay, we want my dad here on the end, the middle one for my mom and then Danny right here." The cemetery guy says "Well traditionally, the husband is in the middle and the wife is on the right, (or left, I don't remember!) and the child is on the other side." I laughed out loud. Ronda said "Well that's good, because then if mom decides not to be cremated she can have the full burial plot." So I pour out a big dose of family reality when I chime in with "First of all, we aren't a traditional family and if I know my mother, she's gonna want to be in the middle. I guarantee you she will still want to be cremated, she always has." Done deal, Dad, Mom, Danny.
Back at Mom's house we still have to get a picture for the paper and then pictures for the slide show. She was worked up when we go there and just handed us a picture that a friend had just given us of Danny. Ronda wanted to get his wedding picture off the wall but she wasn't having it. "Take this one!" We looked at, and each other and I had to say "MOM! He's loaded in this picture! His eyes are half closed!" To prevent her from throwing anything at me, we took the picture. Later someone found another one and we took it down and used it. Mom didn't even notice the switch! She just didn't want to deal with at that time.
(skip this part to avoid graphic details)
My sisters and I went to see my brother's on/off girlfriend, Devon. Because of Danny's drug use, he had abandoned his family in Colorado but was not divorced. He still talked to his wife and still loved her. Not everyone is a Devon fan because of the situation. Was she the best thing that ever happened to Danny, no. Did she ever give me a reason to dislike her, no. It's a difficult situation. I love and adore my sister in law Tracie, who hates Devon and it's totally understandable. It's really uncomfortable riding this fence. We get to Devon's friends house and she lets us in to see her. When we walk in, she is sitting on the couch hunched over, rocking and crying. She stands up and I hug her and we just start to cry together. I feel so much pain for her. I just lost my brother and it hurts, but knowing that she had to go through finding him dead seems like a terrible nightmare. I know she was very nervous about us coming over there. Even though she didn't say it, I knew she was afraid that we would blame her. She start to tell us the events that culminated in Danny's death. Late the night before he came to her apartment, pretty loaded, but this wasn't out of the norm, especially for the last week. She said she asked him what he had taken but he said he was tired. He always said that! He would nod off mid sentence, but always because he was 'tired.' Nothing she described seemed out of the norm, no red flags that she 'should have' done something different than what she did. Sometime in the wee hours he got up and went out the back door and started vomiting, happens sometimes when you are very stressed from losing a parent or from loading your body with poison and more poison. He dropped a pill on his way out or in, and Devon pocketed it so he wouldn't take it. Danny always refused to lie down when he was 'just tired.' My dad was similar but he explained it as not wanting to go 'sleep off' a good high, or low I guess. Danny didn't seem to have that reasoning, just something he always did. He would pass out sitting up, and Devon, Mom and some friends had realized that you just leave him sitting, just leaned back a bit. So when Danny started to 'nod,' Devon propped him up on the couch so he wouldn't fall. Around 3 or 3:30 she woke up and heard him making some ugly breathing noises but had no idea that this was the 'death rattle' that is frequently heard in these situations. I do not hold her responsible for anything and I have no animosity towards her. There was no way that she could have known what was happening. She woke around 7 and noticed a silence. She went into the living room and saw him, not breathing and with foam covering his mouth. She ran over and started to scream his name and shake him. He was cold and already had signs of lividity and rigor. Devon's 12 year old son witnessed everything. She called 911 and they arrived within 2 minutes. She started calling my mom and my mom wasn't answering. She didn't leave details on the answering machine but just kept saying "Peggy, You have to call me back, now!" Mom called her back and Devon said "Danny won't wake up, he won't wake up!" and my mom screamed "Call 911!" "I did." Devon told her, "they are already here." My mom jumped in the pickup and flew over there. When Devon saw my mom running up to the door she motioned to a police officer and he went to stop her. He said "Danny went to sleep last night and he didn't wake up." My mom turned around and bent her knees and screamed "OH F***!" When Devon described this to us, I pictured exactly the posture that my mom would have had. Devon was shaking and could hardly get through the story. She was stuttering and bawling. During this I was getting shaky and felt like I could fall down. I held on to Devon, not only to love on her, but at that moment it was also so that I had a grasp on something to keep me upright. She had given the pill she had found to the police.
(resume reading for those that skipped)
Devon was widowed several years ago. Her late husband died of a drug overdose. Just knowing that, you can imagine the terrible pain she is living and reliving. The difference is, this time, she was there and saw everything. My sisters and I loved on her and kept telling her that if she needed anything to please call one of us. Renda kept telling her, "We don't mean, just this week or next, we mean 6 months from now, or longer." Her best friend, with whom she was staying with started to cry. She said it was nothing like this when her husband died. The family treated her like garbage and overstepped her decisions and it was a horrible ordeal. After his death they wanted nothing to do with her. "She wasn't even married to Danny and you guys are being so nice to her" she said. Jesus, the love of Jesus, that's what it is. We all told he how sorry we were that she had to go through that. She started to cry and say 'I should have' and I stopped her. I turned her towards me and looked into her eyes and said "I just read this scripture for my dad's service and it's the same now. The Lord knew when we would die before we were ever born. Devon, this IS NOT YOUR FAULT! There is nothing you could have done." She hugged me and thanked us all.
Again at my mother's house, which was packed all day with family and friends, we had to go through and get pictures. It was less fun this time. Partially because with added events in the day, we didn't have as much time. Partially because it was my brother and not my dad, young and not old, and a sad repeat of the previous week. (I should note here that at 57, my dad was NOT old, but compared to 36, well you get the idea). After seeming dad's video, several friends brought us photographs which was wonderful! Danny's video was going to be longer! We discussed songs and several people told us that Danny wanted "Crossroads" played as his funeral. Ronda had several picked out for hers as well. I don't remember if Renda picked out any for herself or not. I said "I don't care, I'm dead" and my sisters both rolled their eyes! We talked with mom, who was doing much better at this time, about the plots we picked at the cemetery. Ronda starts to tell her.. "The guys said that traditionally the husband is in the middle and the wife..." and mom interjects... "BULL SHIT, I'm getting the middle!" a sideways glance at Renda and we can't contain our laughter!

Week Repeat

2008-02-28T22:51:00.000-08:00

Monday the 18th, just 3 days after my brothers 36th birthday.... Again, I am awakened in the night, plagued by a strange and uncomfortable wakefulness that I cannot shake. After about an hour and a half I stop tossing and jolting and finally find the peaceful sleep I was in when I heard a knock on our bedroom window. Not sure of what I had heard, I shove my husband awake and ask "Did someone just knock on our window?" and then there it was again. Sure that something terrible had happened to my mother, I bolted across the bedroom and pulled the blinds apart. My brother in law stood there saying "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, you gotta let me in." Stephen headed down the hall and I grabbed my baby boy and took off after him. He let my brother in law and his daughter in. It was apparent that they had both been crying. Knowing that a hard blow was coming my brother in law choked up. "I can't!" he said and turned away. My niece, between sobs told us that "They found Danny." The unbelievableness of it was there, like a cloud, choking out reality. "What?" was all I could muster. "They said he went to sleep and didn't wake up." "Where?" "At Devon's" "Devon found a pill, she gave it to the police" "Mom went there, but it was too late." "Renda is going to Enid if you want to ride with us." Bits and pieces of information were flying around the room like ping pong balls. It seemed like they were only there for a few seconds. Before they even got out of the driveway, a flood of emotions exploded. My knees started to shake and I could feel my legs giving away. Stephen was there, catching me, lowering me with the baby in my arms, to the ground. I had not even begun to mourn my dad. I mean really mourn him. I remember thinking I would call Dawn, my best friend, and then realized that I had just called her. She came out to be with us, a strange repeat of the previous Monday. This began what was the most bizarre deja vu filled week of my life. Someone called my sister Ronda and she went to mom immediately. She walked in and mom pointed at her and screamed "IT'S NOT TRUE! IT'S NOT TRUE! IT'S NOT TRUE!" I don't know how, but Mom had managed to drive home from Devon's house.
I don't know how much time passed before Renda, Jimmy and Danny's son Landon came back to pick me up. On the drive to Enid I started to write a second obituary. I hadn't been in the car 2 minutes before the "If Onlys" started. "If only the counselor would have called 10 minutes earlier." "If only we could have gotten him help." "STOP!" I yelled at everyone. With scripture reguarding this fresh in my mind I told them "The enemy is going to try and use this against all of us. The bible says 'your days are written, before one of them began' so it doesn't matter what anyone did or didn't do or could have done. It wouldn't change the outcome of this story." I'm not sure everyone believed it, but it stopped the exchange for the time being.
Ronda called us as we were driving into Enid and asked us to meet her at my dad's apartment. Once there, seeing all of his things and his clothes, I broke down. I grabbed his jackets and pleaded with my sisters not to give Dad's things to our cousin Larry. "I don't care where they go, just don't give them to him!"
Arriving at my mother's house, we found cars lining the streets. Many of my brothers friends were gathered in the front yard. Walking into the house, there was so many people that there was no were to sit, yet an old silence floated around. I saw my mother in her corner chair and went to her. I kneeled down and with my head in her lap and cried, I cried and cried. I stayed there until my legs were numb.
Knowing we had to start working on funeral arrangements, again, my sisters and I headed to the funeral home. My mother maintained the "I don't want to deal with this now" motto, so we plugged on. Someone had the foresight to call the cemetery and halt the burial of Dad's ashes. Sitting in the office, giving data for yet another death certificate I look up and say to the guy "You know, you are a nice guy, and I like you, but I don't want to spend anymore time with you." Everyone agreed!
One week prior, on our way into the room to choose an urn, the gentleman turned around and said "Now there are caskets in here, just so you aren't freaked out." A second trip into said room didn't warrant this warning. As he unlocked the door, I turned to my sisters and say "Now, just so you know, there are caskets in here." The comical release provided by my slightly inappropriate humor were vital to the upkeep or our mental faculties during this time. It may seem out of line to someone outside of my family, but to us, it was necessary and welcomed.

Rough Week

2008-02-27T23:28:00.000-08:00

What a difficult and incredible couple of weeks we have had. My poor mother...
Monday, Feb 11th around 5:45 I started an uncomfortable wakefulness that would not leave me. At 6, My Randon came and crawled into my bed. He is a lone sleeper and this is a rarity. The phone began to ring and I knew the news was bad. My mother told me that my father had passed away. While he had been sick, it wasn't totally expected. It wasn't entirely unexpected either. My sister, Ronda, had visited him on Thursday and he talked he ear off and was doing well. My mom and brother visited on Sunday and he stayed 'asleep' (unresponsive) during the entire visit. Sunday morning before their visit, he wasn't feeling great and told his favorite nurse "I'm done." Shortly thereafter he went unresponsive until he past at 6 am on Monday. My sister, Renda, was called within minutes of his death, and the chain of calls went quickly thereafter. My sister Renda and I went to Enid to be with our family.

My brother and mother were both very visable affected. No one wanted to decide anything. Even my bossy big sister just kept saying "I don't know, what do you think?" Being shoved into the uncomfortable position of desicion makers, Renda and I both went into a cloud of 'get it done.' This mode seemed to stay with us all week. I don't recall either of us breaking down, or crying more than a few tears. There were many times that I felt judged by others because I wasn't a mere puddle of grief. At times, I felt like saying "Don't belittle my pain because I'm not bawling, it's still here and it's still real!" My father's sense of humor was given to my brother and I. During the mess of decisions, I inadvertantly became the 'slightly inappropriate' humorist my father would have been. My mother, who for the most part lacks a sense of humor, seemed to appreciate the lightheartedness in a such a sad sitation.

That first night, Renda, Mom and I sat and went through her massive trunks of pictures. She has talked about doing that very thing for the past year, but time didn't lend itself for that. Renda and I each had our pile of pictures to steal. Mom spotted Renda's and said "You're not taking those!" (that's the feisty red head we know and love!) and Renda replied "Now Mom, you've been good all day, don't start this now!" I was a little more descrete and laid mine in the dining room near other pictures. She spotted those and said "Are those the ones you are trying to steal?" My smile gave me away. Amazingly she came off of the ones both of us wanted! We had a wonderful end to a very sad day.

We opted to have the service at Anew Church, the network LifeChurch.tv that we opened last year. It was fitting because my father 'didn't do church' for over 40 years and when we went with us to LifeChurch.tv, he came back with us and even got to meet Pastor Craig. I wanted to do the eulogy at my dad's service, but I was terrified. I have never spoke in front of so many people, at least not by myself. So, I wrote it, but declined to deliver it. My husband created an awesome slide show of my dad with over 200 pictures and the most fitting songs ever. Having never planned a memorial service, I was nervous about it running smoothly. When my best friend and her husband arrived at the church and sat on the back row, I joined them. I actually 'hid' there for a time. So many questions and decisions had been directed at me, I just wanted to escape them for a time. It wasn't a long time before I was spotted and called on again.

The service ran perfectly. Several people told me it was wonderful and many said it was 'just what your dad would have wanted.' I found out this week that my brother told my sister Ronda, "That's exactly what I want." I desparately wanted to stamp of approval from my mother. When I talked to her later that night I finally got the nerve to ask her what she thought. She said "It was great! I would have only changed one thing." I held my breath and waited for the list of things that I did wrong. She said "There was one picture, of your dad in a highchair when he was a baby that I wanted in there, but I couldn't find it." SCORE! Not my fault!

Cry Baby, Cry Baby

2008-02-05T23:11:00.000-08:00

I wrote this about my number two...but I am finding it familiar with number four... teething is tough!

Cry baby cry baby
What's a mom to do?
Have ten more I guess
And move into a shoe!

Daddy will never go for that!
Mommy would be a nut!
She's on her way there anyhow
'Cuz the baby's mouth won't shut!

Echoing through the hallway,
Up and down the stairs.
He thinks the world is falling apart
And acts like no one cares.

Mom tries and tries to rock him
And help him fall asleep.
She tries to help him shut his eyes
And not to make a peep.

Nothing seems to be working.
Mom has tried a dozen times!
Just give her some tequila
And a few fat fresh green limes!

Then all the noise around her
Will fade and become quit dim..
'Cuz when she finishes her drink,
The room begins to spin.

Then nighty night will greet her
And all will seem okay
Till the morning wakes her
And on the floor she lays.

Her head will begin throbbing
And sun will be to bright.
She'll want to crawl into bed
And then turn off the light!

Sounds like to much a pain...
So, I'll take another route.
I'll listen to this baby boy
Scream and hollar and shout!

Even though it's quite annoying
And it hurts my ears a bit,
I will try and try to help him
And hope that he will quit.

Even though he's noisy
I still do love him so
He needs me now,
I hear him, so I have to go.

Fire

2007-10-23T21:58:00.000-07:00

Fire. Have you every actually felt fire on your skin? Other than the occasional "How close can you get to the candle?" game played as a stupid kid/teen, I have not felt fire. Until now. I would describe it to you as the flesh being melted off my feet by an unbelievable force full of extreme torment. I suck in my breath in ragged spurts as the pain rips into spaces between my toes that I was unaware even contained nerve endings. It's a crippling pain that continues to raise my blood pressure until I am certain a stroke will kill me. The agony this fire brings is not one I would wish on anyone, except perhaps enemies during times of war, or the guy that cut me off on my way out of Starbucks yesterday. The pain is getting worse, I am sure I will black out at any moment. If I don't live through this, tell my children I love them and if they ever get Athletes Foot, forget this hokey, backwoods, fire water crap! Go for the drugs man! Don't dump apple cider vinegar on your precious piggies!