Friday, December 11, 2009

I Remember...

I remember when the training wheels came off. I was so excited for her, and yet I was a little sad since that meant she was growing.

I remember when she met all of her favorite Princesses. It was definitely the highlight of her summer. I got live vicariously through her eyes.

I remember when she got baptized how blubbered like a baby marveled at how much she looked like an angel. And how pleased I was with her decision to be baptized.

I remember thinking how grown up she looked when she attended a concert at The Kennedy Center for a field trip.

But I was not ready for this.

Her first winter formal. She had an "amazing" time. I know it's just going to continue on and on. I will savor each moment with all three of my children. It may be cliche, but it really does go by fast.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Random Acts

Every week Mama Kat gives 5 writing prompts to choose from. I enjoy her challenges very much. They always give me pause to think. And this week is truly exceptional. Please see The Liz Logelin Foundation and Anissa Mayhew's Hope 4 Peyton.

Mama Kat and other sites(all listed on Mama's Losin It) are also holding auctions to benefit the sites listed above.

Writing prompt #4 asks to describe a time when a stranger helped you.

When I was a senior in high school, I didn't have a car like a lot of kids did. And if you didn't have a car you either road with friends who did, got carpooled, took the bus, or rode your bike. I was the latter.

School was just a little over 2 miles from home. I had traveled about 1/2 a mile and was getting ready to cross a busier intersection. It was a 4 way stop, which is sometimes easy enough, but that doesn't apply here. As most of us know, you must stand up on the pedals to gain momentum. Since I needed to cross quickly, I did just that. I was also holding on with one hand, as the other held my books and purse. Here is where it gets kind of fuzzy. I have no idea what happened. All I know is, thankfully, just after I got on the other side of the street I was flying through the air. I landed painfully on the right side of the bike. I specify the right, because it was my left leg that was broken. I don't know how long I laid there. The pain was excruciating. As I lay there writhing in pain, I tried to figure out what to do. As far as I could tell, I couldn't possibly move.

It was then that I realized just how close I was to my Home Teacher's house. In my church we have Home Teachers--men assigned to families within the church. Our Home Teacher at that time, was exceptional in his calling. He taught me how to drive, in addition to being my surrogate father for "Father-Daughter" activities at church. I was just two houses away from his house. Now if I could just figure out how to get there. I would crawl if I had to, and the rate of my pain I would. I knew he would be home, and awake. He worked nights, and it was about the time he would be getting home. He would help. Just as I had decided I was going to be crawling my way to his house, a Junior High student was passing by. I didn't know her, she didn't know me. I stopped her and started to explain just where my home teacher lived. She was ready willing and most importantly, able. She was just about ready to head over there, when a car pulled over just in front of where I had fallen--and couldn't get up!

A nice lady got out, sent the Junior High girl on her way, and pulled me up to my...foot. She had seen the whole thing. To this day, I wonder what it looked like. I must have flown. It was all under two minutes...if that... before she turned onto the street I was on. After she poured me into her car, she quickly hoisted my bike into the back and took me straight home. I don't remember telling her where I lived, tho I know I must have. She was a stranger. I just remember my mom taking off my shoe and looking at my leg. It was already bruising. She thanked the lady and then the lady was gone.

I can't tell you what she looked like. I can't tell you anything about her. She was my good Samaritan. So here is my chance to say thank you to her.

Dear Lady Who Stopped,

You didn't have to stop. You could have just gone onto work, or where ever you happened to be going. Instead, you followed your heart. You helped someone who couldn't help herself. I don't remember if I said thank you. I know my mom did. Not because I heard her say it, but because I know my mom. You didn't need to be reimbursed. You didn't want recognition. You just wanted to help. And you did. So, thank you very much.


Dear Anissa,

I don't know you. But I want you to know that my prayers and others are being said for you. You are a fighter. Every day is your victory. We are all rooting for you!

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

What Scares You?

What scares you? Is it the slasher movies? Ghost stories? Stories of women bearing Satan's spawn? Are you afraid to swim in the ocean? What movie has scarred you for life?

I pose this question because a couple of nights ago, I saw a movie that totally disturbed me the first time I saw it. It is called Dreamscape starring Dennis Quaid. In one of the dream sequences, Dennis Quaid's character is helping a young boy get away from the monster in his dream. Well the monster is a pretty scary thing, or at least at the time I thought it was. It was a snakeman. In my mind, I remembered it looking sooo real! Plus they were going down miles of rickety old wooden stairs. Now who hasn't has THAT dream!? And yet when I watched it, I was half laughing at myself and literally laughing at how completely fake the effects were. And the whole concept of the movie now seems preposterous.

Another movie that scarred me for life, was a movie called "The Hand." Okay I was too young to see this movie. For weeks I would take a flying leap from my door to my bed because I was convinced the hand was under my bed and that it was going to get me! To this day disembodied hands at Halloween are very creepy to me. I can't handle it. And those obnoxious bowls with the hands that spring to life and cackle when you reach in really freak me out. The only "hand" I can deal with is "Thing" from "The Addams Family." and that is just because Thing is a dismembered of their odd family.

As an adult, the movies that scare me now are the ones that are more real. The ones that mess with your mind and make you think, "Could that really happen?" The kind that make you jump at your own shadow. For instance, "Mr. Brooks" starring Kevin Costner. It's a very different role for him. It is rated R, but I chose to watch it. He plays a philanthropist who just so happens to be a killer. And it is creepy. It's almost like Ted Bundy. He was very real and very well thought of in his community. And he was a rapist and a killer. Check that movie out--The Deliberate Stranger--starring Mark Harmon. It was a long time before I could look at him and not think of Ted Bundy.

So what scares you? Do you like to be scared? I love a good scary movie. Forget the slasher types. I am not into blood and guts. I want the type that will mess with my head for days. As for The Hand and Dreamscape, I dare say they are good for freaking out a young mind, but not much beyond that.

PS Thanks to all you well wishers! I am finally feeling better!

My Family Knows

*****We interrupt your regularly scheduled blog for an important announcement*****

Dear Jerk-Behind-Me,

You can honk your horn until the cows come home. You can lean on it to your hearts content. I really don't give a flip! But no matter how long or how many times you honk that horn, I can not go to the other side of the street if there are cars there that are not moving! Okay, so you can't see over the top of my big old van. I get that. But I am not some dumb redneck picking their nose either. And I am not on the phone. And I am not drifting off to never land. Don't you think I would go if I could. My kid is getting wet too! Sheesh. I hope when you are in a similar situation that the person behind you is far more understanding than you were. But then, you are in a little runt car so anyone could easily see over the top or simply tip you over.

Yours Truly
The "Moron" in the Van

****We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog, without further interruption****

I suffer from chronic migraines. I have been dealing with them since I was eight. I can remember describing it as, "it feels like the whole world is sitting on my head." Can you imagine a child of eight dealing with something so horrible. I can remember, quit vividly taking naps in the dark in my room. My mom took me to the doctor to see what she could do for me. My doctor was soo very cool. He didn't dismiss my mother and her concerns for her baby. He listened and accepted the symptoms for what they were. Real. Sadly, he informed us that wasn't much he could do for me due my age at the time. Just to give me aspirin...YEP! Aspirin, you know before we figured out it was no-no. And have me lay down and rest. Kind of hard to keep a hyper child quiet. I ought to know with three in my life! But when they are sick, they seem to slow down a little.

Migraines and headaches are very different, and if you have never suffered a migraine I am sorry, but there is no comparison. A headache is the pits. It hurts, it makes you cranky and yes you want to lay down so you can sleep it off. A migraine is a whole different animal. For starters, light and sound hurt.
I mean it literally feels like someone is driving a stake into your already pounding head with. every. single. sound. They vary in intensity too. Sometimes I can function, but usually I need to lay down with a cold compress.

This is where my family comes in. My husband and my children all understand what it means when "Mommy has a headache." They know to do their best to play quieter. They know to turn the sound down on the TV and the computer. Kristin will stroke my hair and ask me how I am. Rich will let me sleep for as long as I need. It sucks having to deal with these rotten things, and it's even worse that my family has to deal with me them too. But I am blessed that they are so loving and understanding when I need it most. This thought occurred to me over the weekend as I dealt with--still am actually--the migraine that will eventually kill you. Emily was watching heaven knows what on TV and I asked her to please turn it down. She said, "Do you have a headache?" Sad but true. But she obliged and I thanked her for being so kind.

There is no known cause for migraines, therefore there is no known cure. There are a great deal of medications out there. I have Frova. If you suffer these terrible things please talk to your doctor and torture yourself no more!

Sunday, December 6, 2009

A New Me

When I was 17, I had my wisdom teeth removed...surgically. I had the worst recovery imaginable. I had the dry all four areas. A spot on my chin remained numb for six months. I couldn't chew food for about a month. My mom made me shakes. Aren't mom's great!? As a result of my liquid diet, I lost 25 pounds. I was looking good. Hey when you are seventeen you are allowed to be a little self-centered. I also got the grand notion to dye my hair. Why? Who knows. I thought it would be fun I guess. I chose to dye it red. Why red? Why not. It was fun. It turned out very nice and looked natural, surprisingly. I also received a lot of male attention. Again, at 17 one tends to eat that up. I tried many times over the years to duplicate the red result and never have been successful.

I have also gone blond(er) which is the normal color I choose. The last time I colored my hair we lived in VA. I don't even think Ryan was born yet. I went blond(er) and it was nice, fun and looked pretty. Then of course, the roots start showing. Not wanting to mess with touch ups, I chose to redye my hair but to its original state. Before you imagine the worst, relax. This is not one of those tales. It turned an auburn color. It was pretty. Nothing like the 17 year old version, but still pretty.

Present day. I have been thinking about it for a long time. But why mess with perfection? Okay so my hair is far from perfect, but I will say its color is not any one color. It has blond, brown, and red. Depending on what I wear depends on what naturally shows. In the summer months the blond comes out. But I'm bored and restless. I can't afford to have a pro do it, so I did it myself. I chose a mere shade lighter than my hair is. The pictures, don't really show the difference--it's subtle. Really what it did was brighten it. I like it. What do you think?


The picture doesn't do it justice. And for some weird reason, my eyes look blue in this photo. They are green. Oh, and the kids haven't noticed. Haha. It is subtle.